#put themselves back together with the help of family and friends
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beanarie · 3 days ago
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21 hours
i just kept rolling around the moment from my last fic when tommy said "i turn into the unabomber when i get scared, just ask hen and howie" and i wondered, what could possibly be scarier than thinking he might lose buck right after getting him back. (tw: panic attacks)
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Hen's feelings on Tommy Kinard are... malleable. He was trash when they met, and for a solid few months after that. They remained on the same crew, struggling and bleeding and getting each other out of scrapes. That built a measure of trust. After Gerrard and the worst of his minions vanished, he changed. Became almost sweet. He and Chimney, who had always been okay, hit it off like a house on, you know. Hen liked this new version of her teammate, who seemed to be finding his feet after losing some seriously bad influences. She enjoyed their group hangouts. Maybe a year after his transfer to Air Ops, her friend Casey shared that Tommy was gay and out to his new unit, which, good for him.
She never forgot the asshole who helped make her feel like she would never belong, but he got smaller over time, easily overtaken by whoever Tommy felt like showing her.
The call today was going fine until it all went to hell, another unwelcome similarity to the night Buck got struck by lightning. The victims were alert and on their feet, ambulating on their own power right ahead of him, when he saw the heavy mahogany shelving unit lose its moorings and shoved the family out of the way just in time. That of course put him right in its path.
For a long, terrible minute while he was pinned she and Chim thought they didn't have a pulse. But it was there. They found it eventually. And he made it to the hospital without crashing.
Having heard a little about Buck's efforts to rekindle their relationship (along with his feeble arguments that they were strictly platonic), Hen isn't shocked when Tommy shows up at the waiting room. But she wasn't expecting the asshole.
Chimney eyes her, asking if she's seeing what he is. They recognize this man. The linebacker set of the shoulders, the distancing lift to his chin. Bobby asks him if he wants coffee, and he simply wrinkles his nose.
He's pissed. Maybe he blames them for letting Buck get hurt.
"Enough," Eddie says, flinging himself out of the chair. "We're taking a walk."
"Don't speak for me," Tommy spits out.
"Now," he growls.
Surprisingly, Tommy goes, but Hen isn't sure that's a good thing. Eddie has a history of making problems worse with his fists. Chim is on the phone with Maddie, figuring out the logistics of two scared parents who can't be in two places at the same time. He's no help. Hen considers asking Bobby if they're gonna let Buck's sort of ex and his best friend lay each other out while he's in emergency surgery. But he's never really up for mediating nonsense when one of them is badly hurt, especially not when it's Buck.
The surgeon comes out and speaks for a moment. Hen now has a compelling reason to intervene. She turns a corner and soon finds them. Eddie leaning in, glaring, while Tommy cuts him off and stalks away a few paces.
"You're not even trying," Eddie says tightly.
"Shut up." Tommy whirls back the way he came, breathing hard.
"Three things. Chim's baby could do it and he can't even sit up by himself."
"One day, Eddie. One. Are you fucking kidding me?"
Hen blinks. Tommy sounds like he's holding back tears.
"Tommy, man, come on. If you pass out and end up in the bed right next to Buck, he'll 100 percent blame me. Get it together."
The dots connect themselves. The pacing. The irregular breathing. Eddie prompting him to list three things. Tommy is having a panic attack.
"Guys?" Hen says. Tommy's head snaps up. Their eyes meet and if she wasn't already sure, this would do it. That isn't anger. That's pure terror. "Surgery went well. They're wheeling Buck into recovery. They said someone can go be with him when they bring him around."
"Tommy's going," Eddie announces. "If he can remember how to breathe."
Tommy has a hand on his own chest. "Dickhead."
"Hen, can you walk him over?" Eddie raises one shaking hand. "I need to sit for a minute."
Tommy's eyes widen. "Shit, Eddie, I didn't even ask." Tommy comes close to invading Eddie's space, stopping only when Eddie holds him off.
Eddie gives him a half-smile. "I'm fine, Tom. The rest of us are all fine. It's just an adrenaline dump. I'm gonna call my kid and let him bitch about organic chemistry and the school musical until my heart stops pounding." He squeezes Tommy's shoulder and gives him a shove. "Go on."
All the way down the hall, Tommy mutters to himself, trying to do what Eddie asked and regulate his breathing, but it doesn't seem to be working.
"What happened yesterday?" Hen asks curiously, stuck on his earlier comment.
He's so surprised his lungs stutter to a complete stop. He looks down at her, blinking hard, and he shakes himself. "We agreed to try again," he says.
"Damn," she blurts out, and almost apologizes before he lets out a humorless little laugh.
"I know!"
She doesn't tell him how it felt to watch her son coding not two weeks after they got her daughter back. She's not sure how to say this is just their lives, that the only reason they get through it is because they have each other. He's spent enough time observing them.
They've reached the recovery room. Tommy cracks his neck and straightens his spine. "Hen?" he asks, tentatively, pausing with one hand on the double doors. "Do you need to go home? Karen-"
"Isn't expecting anything but updates from me until morning," Hen says. This isn't a regular day.
He nods. "Can you stick around? Some of these doctors suck at communicating and- and I want to make sure I'm ready for whatever he's gonna need."
So maybe he has figured it out. "No problem, Tommy. I'll be right here."
"Thank you." He takes a deep breath and pushes the doors open. Through the split second sliver before they swing shut again, she catches a glimpse of Buck on the gurney, his face mottled with purple from the books that flew off the top shelf (an encyclopedia, like they used to keep in the '90s). He looks terrible. When he wakes up for real, he's gonna feel even worse. But she's pretty sure he'll be just fine.
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awakeagainstmywill · 8 months ago
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If Lord of the Rings and Dune had a love child. And that child grew up to become its own independent person.
That's Wheel of Time.
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barbarastreisandof · 1 year ago
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Blocking out her name and picture to protect her from harassment, but this is a Palestinian journalist reporting out of Gaza who I've personally had contact with through Twitter.
Money and aid is not getting through. Crowdfunding is not helpful. Ordering things is not helpful. Buying keffiyehs that say the money goes to Gaza is not helpful.
Gaza is a concentration camp - nothing is getting in or out that Israel does not approve of and right now Israel wants people dead or dying.
Most of social media, and tumblr is no exception, skews toward "taking action" being things that put you at zero risk and only ask for money or bits of time, or sometimes just doing nothing and calling it a boycott. "Call your rep!" "Buy this thing!" "Share this link!"
The reality is that you get out what you put in and if it was easy and low risk and comfortable for you to do it, then that is the level of impact it is having - low, comfortable to ignore, and flimsy.
Palestine, Gaza and increasingly the West Bank, NEEDS real help and the reality is we do not have the power as individuals to give it.
We DO have the power to band together and influence things collectively and the best way to do that is to loudly unequivocally express our anger and clarity of purpose.
So that does mean calling reps and being polite and firm and brief and giving your real address because otherwise they can't confirm you're a constituent and they'll ignore you. "Hello, my name is ______ and I am calling as a constituent to demand representative/senator _______ support aid to Gaza and to call for an end to support for all support to Israel."
It is important that your support for Gaza include opposition to Israel - there is no supporting Gaza while supporting Israel, it genuinely is one or the other.
Tear down pro-Israel posters. Tear down those fake kidnapped propaganda posters. Show up to rallies and marches where you can and if you can't, find out who's organizing them and get in touch to offer your support and help. Talk to family and friends. LEARN! Read up on these things and teach yourself history so you can better advocate and push back on propaganda.
Be willing to have people not like you. Losing friends over this is, and I don't mean to be cold here, nothing. It doesn't matter. Fuck em. If advocating against genocide costs you friendships and gets people calling you antisemitic, fuck em, good riddance. Privately process the loss of those relationships if they really matter to you, but publicly don't give it air because this is not a time to be focused on the feelings of people who cannot bring themselves to oppose ethnic cleansing.
The culture is shifting, support for Palestine is growing and it NEEDS to continue and we have the power to make sure it does.
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tsukiflwr · 2 months ago
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ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 .ᐟ THINGS ENHA DO THAT MAKES YOU SECOUND-GUESS YOUR 'FRIENDSHIP'
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𝓅airing ∿ hyung line! enha x f!reader ᰔ 𝒽eadcanons ; fluff, friends to lovers, 𝓌: none that I know of 𐙚 𝓌c 1682 ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. i did not intend for these to be so long ﹒ ꒰ 𝓁ibrary ꒱ + 𝓂aknae ver
LEE HEESEUNG ∿ being touchy
you were used to heeseung’s touch. the way he would rest his hand on your lower back to alert you of his presence, the lingering hugs where his hands would hold your waist, how he would wrap his arm around your shoulders whenever the two of you stood or sat next to each other, his fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes on your shoulder as he talked and laughed with your friends. 
and the little things like reaching over to put on your seatbelt for you, holding your hand while crossing the road or following the sidewalk rule, pressing his chest back up against your chest as he helped you reach for things on a higher shelf . . . they didn't seem so little to you anymore. 
the lingering hugs lasted longer, his arm that used to rest on your shoulders moved to your waist to hold you closer instead. He would play with your fingers when you guys would binge watch shows in the living room, he would rest his hand on your thigh whenever he sat next to you, playing with the hem of your top. His fingers would linger on your face to softly caress your skin whenever he would tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. 
he didn’t touch his other friends like how he touched you, he certainly didn't pull them to sit on his lap when he played video games like he did with you. Or how he would cuddle you on the couch as you watched movies, his fingers absentmindedly caressing your sides while he placed soft kisses on your cheek, forehead or temple. Yeah, he definitely didn't do that with his other friends . . . 
you knew that he was aware of how it was affecting you, and you also knew that he enjoyed every minute of it. giving you that innocent teasing smile when he felt your heartbeat faster against his chest, or when he notices that flustered smile on your lips. deep down you knew the reason why he touched and looked at you like that – and he knew it too. 
PARK JAY ∿ spoiling you
you noticed jay’s habit of buying things for you very early in your friendship. whenever the two of you went out to get food he always made sure to pay the bill, quickly grabbing it before you could even see the amount, waving off your protests with a sweet smile. even when you were the one to make the plans he always found a way to pay first. when you had brought it up to him he just gave you that smirk as he said “Is it so bad that I want to treat you?” 
when the two of you went shopping together, he always paid attention to the things your eyes would linger on but decided not to get it because it cost too much, sneaking the items in his basket to buy them for you, along with things he just wanted to get for you. he didn't even bother to ever look at the price tag, knowing that it was going to be worth it seeing that smile on your face. 
he would bring you home items from when he went on trips with his friends/family, he would come up with excuses like ‘i thought of you when i saw it’ or ‘it's just a little gift‘ and one that never failed to make you a flustered mess was ‘I saw it and knew you would look pretty in it’ he had to know he was making you feel things when he said things like that . . . 
you noticed how jay would always playfully complain about buying things for his other friends, saying that they could get it themselves, but with you he did it without a second thought. you weren't the only one to notice that. your fellow shared friends had noticed it too, and of course they had to tease jay about it. but he wouldn't let it bother him, he’d continue to spoil you, buying you anything that reminded him of you. 
you’d wake up to a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers outside your door every week, and almost every time you went to collect your packages there were always extra one’s, always with a sweet little note from jay ‘thinking on you’ ‘wear this tonight, i'm taking you out’ the gifts soon turned more romantic, domestic if you really think about it. but your relationship with him really changed once he gifted you that beautiful silver necklace with the letter ‘J’. 
he loved watching you absentmindedly fidget with the necklace as you happily talked with your friends, or how you would always admire how pretty it looked decorating your neck. he loved to softly tug on the chain to gain your attention, or to use it to pull you closer to him. he didn't care who the two of you were with, he’d stop in the middle of a conversation to reach towards your neck and gently pull the necklace that slipped under your top, adjusting it so the ‘J’ could be seen by everyone . . . you both knew he was irrevocably claiming you as his. 
SIM JAKE ∿ never corrects it when people assume your his girlfriend
you and jake have always been close, ever since the two of you met as young children – both of you were ‘forced’ to come along with your moms to a nice lunch between old friends. the two of you sat at the table, talking quietly and giggling as you raced each other to finish the mazes on the children's menus that were given. your mothers both smiling at the friendship blooming between the two of you. jake would refuse to admit it now, but his young self-did shed a few tears when he had to leave, not wanting to be away from his ‘pwetty friend’ 
as the years went on you only got closer with jake, he was your person . . . and you were his. but not only did he get closer to you emotionally, but also physically. and it was something that everyone noticed, the two of you grew up together hearing the hushed whispers of your moms giggling about how they would be in-laws in the future. So the topic of you two being together was something you were used to. 
it was a popular misconception – that the two of you were together. anyone would think you were – with how close, touchy, and the way you guys looked at each other. And jake ever the polite, would say “oh – no we're just friends”. . .  but jake found it unnecessary to correct the misconception as his feelings for you grew stronger. 
he liked to see the flustered smile decorate your lips whenever someone mistakenly called you, his girlfriend. he found it adorable how shy and awkward you would get, stumbling over your words. he also really loved that moment of bliss where he could fantasize that the two of you were together – that you were actually his girlfriend. that him taking you to that cafe you loved wasn't just a friendly outing but instead a date. 
you didn't know how to bring it up to him, that you noticed how he stopped correcting people, that he would always pull you closer to him when it happened. or how you noticed that big grin would always form on his lips after. that bliss you felt in that moment would quickly turn into confusion as your mind raced with thoughts on why he didn't correct them. 
was it because he was just polite, that he didn't want to make the person uncomfortable by correcting them? – you really hoped that it wasn't just because he was polite. You wanted it to be because he wanted you too – that you weren't the only one to have those silly little fantasies of the two of you together . . . 
PARK SUNGHOON ∿ being protective and possessive
one thing you admired about Sunghoon was how protective he was, to his family, to his friends, to you . . . with years of being best friends with him you didn't know why suddenly started to get so flustered whenever he got protective of you. maybe it was because his protectiveness was almost always accompanied with his possessiveness, and God was it hot . . . 
he always follows the sidewalk rule with you and walks you back safely to your car / apartment etc., he never sits with his back to the door when you are out at a restaurant, all he wants is you to be safe. at parties he always had his arm around your waist, giving his best intimidating look to any guy who tried to come up to you, and if you were at the party without him, he always made sure to check on you through the night, staying up despite the tiredness just in case you called for a ride home. 
he wasn't just protective of your physical but also your mental, he knew you better than anyone else so he could easily see whenever you were overwhelmed or going through something. he’d pull you somewhere quiet, he was there to listen to you talk about what's bothering you and giving you the best advice he could, and if you weren't in the mood to talk, he would do his best to distract you from your negative thoughts.
he sees your ex at a party? he's making sure he doesn’t come and bother you and get your mind all messed up after months of you getting better . . . he was very sensitive with you, especially if someone brought you up, he's always quick to shut down anything that's not appropriate. 
everyone always assumed that the two of you were together, he was always so touchy with you in public, he had a habit of scaring off guys who had taken a liking to you, he never shot down the rumors of you together, only making them stronger . . . at this point the only two who didn't know you were dating where the two of you 
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ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. HEHE ITS FINALLY DONE !! it honestly felt like I’ve been working on this for weeks (i have oops) the maknae version will be released tomorrow !! I now have a taglist, so please comment or send an ask in my inbox if you would like to be added (please specify what taglist you would like to be added too !!) @leehansdoll is the account I will tagging you with <3 ꒰ nav ꒱
which member was your favorite?
likes, reblogs, comments and feedback are heavily encouraged !
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beejunos · 7 months ago
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UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader
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Summary: As Alastor's shadow starts to act strangely, hidden feelings are brought to light.
This wonderful story was written from @lustylita's wonderful idea! The story is completely theirs; I just had the pleasure of putting it into words. Their original post can be found here.
Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, hidden feelings, angst
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The last couple of weeks have been very strange to you. 
Well, stranger than the hotel usually was. 
Over the past few weeks, you have helped your best friend, Charlie, with her little passion project. The Hazbin Hotel - your only chance at redemption! 
While you couldn't say that you inherently believed in her dream, you would have been a poor friend if you hadn't tried to help her—emphasis on tried. Growing up within Hell's elite, where someone always handed you everything on gold platters, didn't foster any usable skills that could help run a severely understaffed hotel. The very thought of having to clean your own room had almost immobilised you.
Did you really need to vacuum the walls and the ceilings every week? How did the cleaning staff back at your parents' manor even do it? The manor was huge! 
Thankfully, you had not been forced to clean for long because shortly after Charlie had opened the hotel for business, an unwanted guest had come knocking at the door. Alastor and his somewhat reluctant companies, except for Niffty, who seemed to thrive in the chaos, quickly made themselves at home in the hotel. 
The same night they arrived, you and Vaggie had sat Charlie down in their room and begged the princess not to let the radio demon stay. After all, the tales of his deeds had even reached your family's manor in the Envy ring of Hell. But Charlie had been persistent, saying that maybe by staying in the hotel, she could change his ways. You loved your friend; you really did, but sometimes you wanted to shake some sense into her violently. 
There was nothing you could do about the radio demon and how he just took over many of the work duties you had at the hotel. Waltzing in as if he owned the hotel, he had taken one look at your work and deemed it unsatisfactory. 
"No, no, let me do it, doll!" he would say condescendingly, making rage lick up your spine, "We would want this to be done well for Charlie, now, wouldn't we?" 
You had lost count of all the times you fantasised about grabbing a chair and introducing it to his face. 
He made you feel incompetent, and worst of all, he was right. Most of the work you had done that he had redone was of better quality, more detailed, and better planned. If you had been a weaker demon, you would have given up, apologised to Charlie and gone home to your parents, but so, if the heavens would be your witnesses, you were going to crush that smug little bastard of a sinner! 
And so began your imaginary battle with Alastor about who could be the best executive producer. If you had asked Alastor, he would not have had any clues about what you were doing, only that it finally seemed like you were taking your job seriously. That said, he still did not like you. You were a spoiled little demon brat who had never worked a hard day in your life, and worst of all, you were sloppy with your work. 
But time kept ticking. The days passed, the hotel was filled with new residents, and somehow, you and Alastor were able to work together. Nevertheless, you only managed to do it by never being near each other, which worked wonderfully for you because the man could actually be quite okay when he was silent and on the other side of the room.  
You could have continued to live like this for as long as Alastor decided to live in the hotel. There was just this teeny tiny thing that perplexed you. 
Alastor's shadow liked to be around you. 
It had begun quite innocently with the shadow coming over to you one night when you were sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with yesterday's newspaper in your lap since you had started to do the crossword puzzle on the back of the paper. You had been staring at the same clue for what felt like an hour, and you just couldn't figure it out. Out of nowhere, a shadowy finger had tapped on the clue to get your attention, and when you looked up, two empty holes for eyes had looked back at you with the biggest twisted grin full of teeth you had ever seen. 
"Fuck! Don't do that!" you whispered forcefully, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet that finally had fallen over the hotel lobby. "What do you want?" 
Prepared to be bothered any second now by the radio demon, you got even more confused when the shadow started doing pantomimes. Why in the seven Hells was it swimming across the wall?
You looked on as the shadow began to swim back to you, tapped on the clue and started to swim again.
"Swimming? But it has nothing to do with activities! It is something about effort," you said as the shadow returned to you. Since it could not speak, the shadow just started to nod its head and tapped on the clue again. 
"Is it a word derived from the word swimming?" you asked hesitantly as the shadow continued to nod. 
You turned back to the clue before you—a word for no effort needed and swimming.
"Swimmingly?" you asked the shadow, who gave you an even bigger sinister smile and nodded again before it disappeared up the stairs. Again, you were left in the lobby with only the crackling fire as a company, looking over at the stairs after the strange entity that was Alastor's shadow.
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The next couple of weeks just grew more and more strange with every day. Out of nowhere, Alastor's shadow started to just interact with you. It began as innocent waves to you behind Alastors back, and at first, you wouldn't wave back, but when you saw how sad the shadow got if you didn't return its greeting, you started to wave back to it. On a few occasions, Alastor had caught you in the act, which quickly prompted you to swat the air around you as if you were trying to get rid of a fly.
When the waves weren't enough for the shadow, it started to appear around you, helping you in various ways. Once, it even helped you find some important paper you needed for your job that you were convinced Alastor had hidden from you. 
It turned out that Alastor's shadow was much more pleasant company than its physical part, and you often welcomed the shadow's help with your crosswords during the evenings.
However, you were again thrown for a loop when the shadowed behaviour started to change. It began to interact with you even more, seeking you out during the day and staying for long periods at a time, just hanging around you or observing what you were doing. 
One day, it had even brought you a blueberry muffin from the bakery you liked across town. You had no idea how it had even done that. For all you knew, shadows were not physical things and could not interact with the physical world. However, you were promptly proven wrong when Alastor's shadow took your own shadow's hand and pulled you down the hallway to show you the roses that had started to bloom outside of the hotel. 
It was a paradox, a mystery that intrigued you. Alastor's shadow, a creature of darkness, was surprisingly sweet, charming, and, at times, downright romantic. How could such a lovely thing be attached to such a vile being?
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It had been like any other day. Alastor's shadow had found you in your office early in the morning, going through all the paperwork that needed to get done that day. In its shadowy hand, it held one blueberry muffin and your favourite coffee mug with a sleepy bear on it, along with the text Bearly Awaken written underneath. 
The coffee had been divine because, somewhere, the shadow had learned to make a cup of coffee exactly how you wanted it.
You continued with your day in the presence of Alastor's shadow, walking together down the corridor, through the lobby, and out the front door as you chatted with the shadow. You had gotten quite good at interpreting its pantomimes and overexaggerated emotions and often found yourself laughing at any antics the shadow pulled. 
It followed you all day as you walked around the city, picking up the materials Charlie needed for her next exercise with the hotel residents. The shadow even helped you pick out the colours for the ribbons and paints. 
At one point, the shadow's long finger had brushed against yours. It had been a cold sensation, almost like being touched by mist, but that had not mattered to you as you blushed before looking away. Missing how the shadow practically folded in on itself when it saw your reaction. 
Was it possible to date a shadow and not the being it was attached to? 
The sun was setting when you and Alastor's shadow got back to the hotel. The lobby was almost empty except for Husk, who was polishing martini glasses by the bar. As soon as he saw the two of you enter the hotel, Husk leapt over the bar and rushed over to you. 
"I don't know where the fuck the two of you have been, but you need to leave now before he finds out that your back," Husk whispered to you as he gripped your arm to turn you around towards the door. 
"And you!" he said towards the shadow, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"  
The shadow made a high-pitched whine as it stepped closer to you. You were about to ask Husk what he had meant when a loud voice boomed inside the hotel.
"Where are you?"
Husk's hand tightened around your arm as he started to pull you towards the door. You followed after him, paralysed by action, as a stone of fear got stuck in your throat. The shadow looked at you, then back at the stairs and then back at you again with anxious eyes. 
Loud steps could be heard from the hallway above the staircase, and Alastor's shadow began to be dragged towards the stairs as if by an invincible force. It desperately dug its claws into the ground, and the shadow let out a wailing scream as it looked at you with big, pleading eyes. 
Alastor was calling his shadow back to him. 
The shadow continued to fight the force of its master's call, leaving deep claw marks on the floor, and, as if a gunshot had been fired at the room, the force wholly let go of the shadow. The shadow rushed back to you, where it clung to your body like a second skin. 
"Get back here, you disgraceful thing!" Alastor could be heard shouting as a massive hand gripped the hallway doorframe and pulled itself forward. It was the hand of Alastor's most demonic form. 
Beside you, Husk had begun to shake as his claws dug into your skin.
"You need to run. Now!" he tried to push you towards the door, but it was too late. From around the corner, Alastor stepped from the dark into the light, but as he stepped forward, he shrank in size. Still, he looked terrifying. 
His eyes were a deep red with volume controllers as irises, hiding any emotions he may have had. His antlers had grown in size, sharp and imposing, making the sinner look almost regal as he sauntered down the stairs. 
"Thank you, Husker." he said, his voice dripping in venom, "I can take over now." 
Husk was about to protest loudly when he disappeared in a puff of red smoke, and you were left alone with the enraged sinner. 
"What do you think you are doing?" Alastor snarled as you started to shake where you were standing. A small whine could be heard beside your neck as the shadow clung closer to you.  
"I don't know..."
"I'm not talking to you!" Alastor's look silenced you but confused you for a second before you saw his eyes drop down to your neck, where the shadow hid. 
"Come back here and stop resisting," Alastor snarled again and stepped towards you. The shadow gave away a low whine as it clung closer to your body, and you realised it didn't want to return. In a fit of temporary insanity, you placed a protective hand over the arms of the shadow around you and stepped away from the sinner.
"No!"  
"What do you mean no? It's my shadow," asked Alastor as he looked back at you in confused rage.
"He doesn't want to be with you anymore," you snapped and turned your nose up. You stepped to the side to walk around the sinner, effectively walking away with his shadow, but as you walked past Alastor, his hand shot out, and he tried to grab your arm. But you were faster; with your other hand, you slept Alastors hand away from you and the shadow.
"Will you stop it! Don't you understand that we want nothing to do with you, so just leave us alone!" 
With determined steps, you started walking over to the staircase to get as far away from the deer demon as possible. However, you didn't get far until you felt the shadow clung even more to you as it let out a pitiful sob. Its head had fallen over your shoulder as it looked up at you with longing eyes—a gaze it shouldn't be giving you since you had just saved it from its cruel master.
"What's the matter?" you asked it as you tried to caress its cheek, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw something that you never thought you would see. 
Without a smile and ears hanging low against his head, Alastor looked at you with the same miserable longing that the shadow looked at you with. And that's when you remember something your mother used to say to you when you were a child, a long time ago. 
Our deepest desires, our most precious wishes and longings, hide in our shadows. Everything we want follows us within our shadows as the weights of our souls.  
You wanted to kick yourself for being so foolish, for not understanding until now. Maybe a small part of you had always known, but it had been easy to ignore in your imaginary rivalry with the sinner. But a shadow never lies. Even the ones who can think and act on their own. They will always mirror their owner's heart's wishes and act upon them when the host won't take charge of getting what they desire. 
"You're in love with me," you whispered. It was not a question but a statement—a statement that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity but not long enough. 
“How? What? When?” you asked, desperate for answers.
Alastor walked hesitantly towards you, looked you deep into your eyes and did something you never thought he would do. He kissed your cheek. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm lips softly touched your cheek, and when he pulled away, you could still feel their presence against your skin. As if you were branded by their sweet touch. 
"Come now," was the last thing he said to his shadow as he walked around you and back up the stairs. Alastor's shadow made a melancholic chirping noise before it let go of you and followed its master.
You were left alone in the big hotel lobby. Wishing that it was your lips Alastor had kissed and not your cheek.
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PART 2.
I really hope it lived up to the expectations, but I loved writing it! It got a lot more angsty than I first intended...
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celestialtarot11 · 7 days ago
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Future Spouse PAC—
Hi friends! Highly requested—a future pick a spouse reading. I appreciate all of you for being here <3 please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow! Your presence means the world. It’s also 11:11 as I type this so for anyone who needs this here you go.
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Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! Hope all is well in your world. For you I see a lot of prominence in your future spouse. They are physically well dressed, put together and appear luxurious. They can invest in quality brands and wear clothing that makes them feel good. I’m seeing someone wear a long tail coat and it emphasizes their height, because it’s slender and yet angular. This person has a great sense of fashion! I heard fashion icon. Some people may look to your future spouse for inspiration, and I heard designer. So perhaps they work closely with others in a artistic sense! They could be a Leo, Taurus or Capricorn. This is also someone who is generous with their energy and resources so if someone needs help they will offer it! Humble, has humility and carries themselves well. I have a feeling this is someone slightly older than you! They could have a pet as well, maybe a parrot for someone or a budgie. Cute! But back to their generosity I feel they give back to their community a lot, and may donate, raise funds for charity! There’s this soothing angelicness to them which people are drawn to, and their smile is also soft and beautiful! It’s something you’ll really like! I also see boyish rugged features for those who are interested in men. And for women I see chubby cheeks, fuller lips and lighter eyes! Your person can be on the taller side :) As for their hobbies may include hiking, skiing, camping! They may go with family as well. They could also be into religious studies like studying different religions, cultures and traditions. They may not necessarily be religious, but study the bible or Quran for example. They just love to learn. Thank you pile 1 for being here! Means a lot to me. Hope you like comment and reblog <3
Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Haha for you I got a very elusive slippery energy from your future spouse. I feel as though in their younger years they were really hot. They were a know it all. They were charming, devious and funny. And they still are! They’ve certainly still got it going. I do feel as though when you meet them you might pick up on those traits from their past and stay away—but this person has identified that they want a deeper commitment here with you. They have grown a lot and instead of chasing cat and mouse, they are confident in attracting the right person. They don’t want games anymore, I’m hearing they don’t have time for it. So your person could be very busy and on the go often, like traveling to other states or places for work. It requires them to constantly be moving. I feel as though there is an element of long distance here but not necessarily forever! They can be foreign, as well. Different culture, values, traditions. But I think this’ll draw them in even more to you and vice versa. I feel this person has worked their way up to developing self respect and esteem, so they may be a bit intimidating at first. I see honey blonde hair, fair to tan skin, and tall figure. They can have toned figures and look as if they work out. They may be into sports of some kind that challenges their body. They need to get that energy out, i feel as though they’re like electricity, constantly sparking and looking to connect to a source. They can be scattered and flighty because their job is demanding of them, but they mean well. They’re funny, confident, boisterous, and charming! Very smooth with their word so expect them to charm your pants off ;) They may have black hair and keep it neatly trimmed! For men I see a neat beard and it isn’t long, it’s not a stubble either. It defines their face very well and I feel they have intense eyes. For women I see brown hair, thinner lips and green eyes! Or just lighter eyes in general. I feel they’re known as muscle mommy 😭 because their body is toned. Thank you pile 2 for being here! Any likes comments and reblogs are appreciated.
Pile 3: Okay right away pile 3 Electric by Alina Baraz began to play! Lol hope your day has been well. I feel as though this person is intense, stern and firm at first. I heard CEO. What kind of wattpad love story is this? Lmfao im hooked. Anyway, this person could have a higher position in your job and I do feel how you meet is they help you out. They may offer you a position, or talk to you, and somehow it slips out that you’re struggling. Im seeing two people meet for coffee in the lounge room and hitting it off, and its unexpected. I feel you two may expect a purely professional relationship but no—this is something deeper. There’s this feeling of intimacy and closeness with you two, like you two saw each other a long time ago and now you’re meeting again. Very familiar and comforting. Feels like 4h synastry! I love that. I do feel as though your future spouse is a provider and doesn’t mind if you want to take the reigns in bed too ;) they are skilled I should mention. I also feel they are someone who tries to understand what their emotions are and what its telling them. So you can help them, maybe you understand emotional processing better and can guide them. They’ll guide you through the material world and offer insights, and help you feel stable financially. I almost feel as though you’re the spiritual one and they are in touch with the material realm. So they are stunned when they hear of your spiritual journey and not only that but attracted. They feel tempted by what they don’t understand. Speaking of temptation—theres a lot. Psychologically it’s tempting to fall into old patterns and I feel as though this connection is helping you release that, but also intimately the temptation is there! Very strong. “Darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea.” I keep hearing that from the song and it describes the depth of your connection when you two meet. I also hear, “touch me, your electric baby.” So you two will definitely feel it. Its unmistakable! A little work romance never hurt anyone LOL that’s what I heard. Someone is saying it like a hushed whisper so I feel ya’ll will physically get closer to talk to one another—it’s an unconscious action yet so intimate. There’s a lot of unspoken tension here between you two. Anyways pile 3 enjoy <3 I hope this helped you! And please don’t forget to like comment and reblog to share the love.
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cressidagrey · 1 month ago
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Stars all aligned - Chapter 13
Summary:
If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.
They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.
Warning:
I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)
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The morning sunlight was streaming in through the open balcony windows, the scents of roses and honey filling the space. 
It was a lovely day.
And Feyre hated every fucking minute of it.
She couldn’t help herself.
Every since she had found out the full truth…had found out about what happened to Zarah… She couldn’t put it into words.
Devastated wasn’t enough, wasn’t even close to enough…
Her chest ached, her hands clenched at her sides. She was still…reeling.
From the looks of it, she thought bitterly as she caught sight of Elain sitting across her, clenching her hands…she wasn’t the only one. 
Even Nesta… unruffled Nesta, normally always straight backed say there, her shoulders caving in.
The only one who didn’t seem to understand what was going on at all was Nyx, who was happily playing with a couple of wooden blocks and that was it. 
“Why did you never tell me?“ Feyre demanded weakly. “Why did you never tell me about…“
“The affair?“ Elain asked softly.
“It wasn’t an affair!” Feyre snapped. It wasn’t. It had been rape. Plain and simple. Zahra had been raped. For 6 years. Dozens if not hundreds of times.
Elain flinched at her words, her eyes flinching away.
Nesta, meanwhile, just continued to stare off into the distance, her face a mask of cool nonchalance, but Feyre could tell…could see the hurt and pain behind her calm mask. 
Feyre swallowed back the lump in her throat, trying to control her emotions.
“Why?” she repeated, her voice softer this time. Why hadn’t they never told her about what had happened. Why had she been blinded to this all this time? Why had she never noticed anything?
It was just another failure on her part. Another failure to be a good sister, friend…just an all around failure.
Her hands balled themselves into fists, a hot flush of frustration and anger rising up within her. Silence settled over the space, only broken by the sound of birds and the occasional rustle of leaves from the gardens, of Nyx playing happily with his blocks…
But it wasn’t comfortable silence, it was cold and tense.
Feyre didn’t know what to say, what to think.
The realization, the weight of what she had never known, settled around her like a shroud. “Because I didn’t want you to get the idea that sleeping with a married man was something you should do too. Isaac Hale was bad enough,” Nesta said, her voice flat. 
Feyre clenched her jaw, her teeth grinding together. She fought back the urge to retort back with something equally sharp, but she knew it wouldn’t help right now. Instead she took a deep breath, her voice shaking.
“Zahra wasn’t sleeping with a married man, it was rape.” she whispered, her stomach churning with emotion.
Her hands trembled slightly, her palms sweaty. She felt sick. Sick to her stomach at the thought of what her sister had gone through.
She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of what she hadn’t known about…what had happened right before her eyes and she hadn’t…known. 
She had not…
Not one word from Zahra. Not one time where Feyre had thought something was amiss. That something was wrong…
She should have seen it. Should have realised that Zahra wore long sleeves even while cooking, even in the summer. Did she want to know what she had hidden beneath these dresses. Had it been bruises? Had it been something worse? 
Feyre should have realised that sometimes Zahra had slept on the cold wood floor and not shared the bed with her sisters… Not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she probably hasn’t been able to stand the thought of another person touching her.
All of those tiny things she hadn’t even noticed…all of those signs Feyre had missed.
All of the times that Feyre hadn’t done anything. Hadn’t helped. Hadn’t protected her. She should have been there for Zahra. Should have been there as a friend, as a confidant, as a sister. She should have been the one to notice. To step in. 
Feyre should have…seen it then.
But she hasn’t.
Feyre hasn’t seen it then.
Feyre hasn’t stepped in when she had returned to her family, when they were wealthy again and Zahra was a maid, working for her own family, her own father. Feyre should have…she should have done something against that…but she hadn’t. She hadn’t done anything. 
She should have done something once her sisters had been turned Fae… after the war…and not simply…not simply ignored Zahra because suddenly Elain and Nesta wanted to spend time with her…
She shouldn’t have simply accepted their behaviour towards Zahra either.
Feyre should have made sure everyone was fine. That her entire family was doing okay.Instead she had been so wrapped up in herself and her relationship with Rhys, in new motherhood, in everything but what was right before her nose. .
She had been so goddamn oblivious.
And Zahra…poor Zahra had…had been carrying this horrible secret with her. All alone for so god damned long all the while nobody cared or noticed.
Feyre had been a shitty sister, a shitty friend.
And now her guilt was going to eat her alive.
Feyre swallowed, the bitter taste of guilt and regret filling her mouth.
She had been so selfish. So selfish to not notice…to not see
And Azriel…he had been so furious. 
His voice like cold death. Vicious in his protection of his mate. She couldn’t get over that.
“I just can’t see it,” Elain said suddenly. “Azriel and Zahra.”
Elain’s voice snapped Feyre out of her reverie, and she glanced over. Elain had a look of utter bewilderment on her face, as she spoke softly, as if unable to piece the puzzle together within her head. “I just can’t picture them together,” she repeated, her tone reflecting the disbelief she was feeling. “They…just… don’t seem like they'd be a good fit,'' Elain continued, her brow furrowed.
She was the picture of confusion, unable to wrap her mind around the match. 
The comment made Feyre bristle, a rush of protectiveness surging up inside her.
"They are a great fit," she responded firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. 
They were. Both content to exist in the quiet, both with a sharp bting humour that only came out sometimes…
They were a good fit. If there was any male that Feyre trusted with her sister after that revelation it was Azriel. 
“And I don’t want to hear how he deserves better,” Feyre snapped at Nesta. “Zahra is our sister,” she stressed. Their sister. 
Regardless of the circumstances of her birthday. She was still their sister. 
Nesta seemingly flinched at that. “She is.” Nesta’s voice was flat as she said that and Feyre was so surprised that she could just stare at her eldest sister as Nesta lifted a pair of grey eyes to look at her. “What, do you wish for me to disagree?” Nesta asked her with a sigh. “Gwyn nearly bit off my head, Emerie is so furious that she had a screaming fit and Cassian doesn’t even talk to me anymore.”
“I…I didn't say…that," Feyre sputtered, taken aback by the words from her sister.But seeing the look on her face…she was more than stunned. Seeing her sister like this…it hurt. It made her chest ache with a dull pain.
“He doesnt talk?” Elain asked surprised.
Nesta looked away, her gaze fluttering to somewhere in the distance. "He…hasn't really said anything," she admitted in a voice that was so small and soft, Feyre had to strain to hear it. She was twisting her hands together in her lap, a strange vulnerability to her eyes as she spoke. She looked…wary, as if afraid of what Feyre might say or do in response.
“He’s furious with me. But also doesn’t want me to fix it,” Nesta spat out suddenly.
"What?" Feyre asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her eyes locked onto Nesta’s, watching as a flurry of emotions played across her face. There was anger, yes. But there was also pain. Sorrow. Despair. Remorse. Guilt. All of it swirling together in a confusing storm of emotion. 
Feyre’s heart ached at the sight, her chest tightening in response to the turmoil she was witnessing. She wanted to help, to comfort, to offer some sort of solace in this moment of pain. But she didn’t know what to do. 
“I just want to apologise,“ Elain whispered. Didn’t they all? Elain looked down at her hands as she spoke, her voice soft and filled with regret. "But how can I? I…I don’t even know what to say," she admitted, swallowing hard. Her hands curled into small fists, as if the act of speaking the words aloud was physically painful. 
“And we can’t even get to her, can’t even see her, because Azriel is controlling all access to her!” Nesta snapped.
“Not controlling. Protecting,” Feyre corrected her sister gently, though she shared her frustration.
Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, an underlying sense of understanding.
She knew that Azriel was doing everything in his power to protect Zahra, to keep her safe. She understood that drive, the protective instinct that was driving Azriel now. Feyre herself would move mountains to protect those she loved. She understood Azriel’s need to do the same for his mate. 
But…was this really the best for Zahra? To cut her off from her sisters?
Her chest ached as she considered the question, and she couldn’t help but feel that Azriel was going too far.
He was doing these things out of love and protectiveness, she could see that, but in doing so, he was creating an even bigger divide between Zahra and her sisters.
He was isolating her, and it wasn't right. 
She knew Azriel had a temper, and that he could be fiercely overprotective when it came to those he cared about. But this…this was too much.
It wasn’t good for anyone. 
Feyre looked between Elain and Nesta, her heart twinging in sympathy.
She could see the pain in both of their eyes, the hurt.
And she couldn’t help…she couldn’t help but remember a time where she herself had been locked away. Out of love. Out of protectivness…
And now, Feyre couldn't help but wonder if Azriel was now becoming the "Tamlin" in this scenario. 
She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to believe that Azriel would turn into something like that.But she couldn't deny the signs.
Azriel was acting out of love, certainly, but that didn't mean that what he was doing was right.
It needed to stop. And it needed to stop soon. 
She let out a deep sigh, reaching to grasp for each of her sister’s hands.
"We need to talk to him," she said finally, her voice firm. She glanced between them both, her expression resolute. "We can’t let this continue. It’s not good for anyone involved. Especially not for Zahra."
She squeezed both of their hands, hoping that they would understand.
She wasn’t going to let her sisters and her…her friend, suffer because of Azriel’s overprotective nature. 
“And how do you want to do that?” Elain asked. “Please remember that your own mate wants us to give her time,” Elain said sharply. “Our options are limited. We have no idea where Rosehall even is!” 
True. 
The other option was tryin to talk to Azriel using her daemati powers, but somehow she doubted that that would go over well either…
"Do you think Mor would tell you where Rosehall is?" Nesta asked Feyre.
Feyre paused at that, her brow furrowing slightly. She hadn't even considered asking Mor, but maybe that was a good idea. It was worth a try, at least.
"I don’t know," she muttered. "But it’s worth asking, I suppose?"
But all of that didn’t even…it didn’t really get to the crux of that matter either. 
“Why did she never say?” Feyre asked weakly. “I get that she never told you. You hate her!” she spat out. “But I don’t!” 
“We don’t hate her!” Elain said immediately. “It’s just…”
“Every time I looked at Zahra the only thing I could think about is how utterly useless our father was,” Nesta spat out. “But that’s my problem and not hers and I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have let it out on her…”
"And yet you did!!" Feyre exclaimed, frustration boiling over within her. “You hated her and treated her…" She trailed off, her voice catching on the words. "You treated her worse than dirt, Nesta," she gritted out, her eyes flashing with anger. 
“We all did,” Elain said softly, her voice trembling.
Feyre looked over at her, and her heart ached at the sight of the two of them.
Nesta and Elain were both strong and fierce women, but at this moment, they looked so…broken.
Feyre wanted to say something, to comfort them both, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she bit her lip, her heart a mess of conflicting emotions.
Guilt, regret, anger, hurt. It all raged within her. 
She wished she could go back in time, and do something different. But she couldn't. All they could do was…move forward.
And the first step…the first step was to get through to Azriel. Somehow. Some way.She just hoped that she could manage it.  She let out a small breath, looking between her sisters.
"Let's go talk to Mor," she said finally, her voice quiet yet determined.
She knew it was going to be a difficult conversation, but it was necessary. They needed to do this. For themselves, for each other. And for Zahra. 
****
Azalea was curled up against Azriel’s chest, scarred hands carefully holding the sleepy baby. Her eyelids were fluttering, her tiny hands grasping at her Father's shirt while her head lolled on his chest.
Azriel was murmuring softly to her, the words too low for Zahra to understand. But the sound of his voice was enough to keep the girl blissfully asleep, her chest rising and falling peacefully.
Azriel's hand was curled protectively around the tiny form in his arms, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her back in an attempt to soothe the girl.
She had been fighting sleep, refusing to give in to exhaustion despite the long and tiring day. But now...Now she was succumbing to the pull of sleep, her little eyelids drifting closed more and more with every passing second. Azriel's fingers continued their gentle ministrations, his touch careful and loving as he worked to coax the baby into a deep sleep.
His own exhaustion was beginning to show on his face, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper than usual. But he kept his eyes fixed on the small, vulnerable form he was holding, refusing to look away, as if afraid that she might disappear if he were to blink.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Azalea's eyes fluttered closed completely, her small body relaxing fully in her father's arms.
Azriel let out a soft breath, his fingers stilling in their movements as he watched the tiny girl's breathing even out. She was finally asleep, her tiny face softened in complete peace and contentment. 
Azriel carefully adjusted his grip, making sure to keep the baby tucked snugly against his chest, close to his heart. His hand gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from the girl's face, his touch reverent. 
He tilted his head down slightly, his lips gently kissing the top of the baby's head.
Zahra could see the love in his eyes, the affection practically pouring off of him in waves. “Come to bed,” she whispered softly. Azriel looked up, smiling at her.
Azalea was placed reverently on the bed next to Zahra, where she had carefully rolled up a few blankets to protect the baby from the wall, the bed was pushed against.
Zahra would take the middle, with Azalea to her left and Azriel to her right… 
Azalea stirred as Azriel laid her down carefully,  a small noise of protest escaping her lips. But as soon as she was settled against Zahra, she immediately curled into the touch, her small hands grasping at her nightgown.
It was like the baby was drawn to her, instinctively seeking out the comfort of her presence even in sleep, and Zahra pressed a kiss to the dark curls that covered her head, pulling a small fur trimmed blanket over her, fussing with it.  
“Where can you get these?” She asked Azriel softly as he slipped into bed behind her, schooching closer until he could pull her in his arms. Azriel hummed as he tucked himself against her back, pressing his chest firmly against her. His arms curled around her waist, pulling her in close.
"The blankets?" he mumbled quietly, his breath warm on her neck. “I think my mother made them, with some flannel and furs of some rabbitsI hunted for dinner once.” He took a moment to press a soft kiss to the side of her neck, his lips lingering on her skin. “I’ll go hunt some more rabbits tomorrow,” he told her simply.
“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra protested.
He let out a soft snort, his arms tightening around her just a fraction.
"I know I don't need to," he murmured, his tone soft and amused. "But I want to," he added, his voice becoming more serious. “My girls won’t get cold on my watch.” 
My girls. 
Something in her chest warmed at these words. My girls. 
Azriel pressed another kiss to her neck before burying his face into the crook of her shoulder, his lips brushing against her skin.  “Besides, it’s a point of pride for e very Illyrian male to provide for his wife and children,” Azriel said softly. “Probably the one time I agree with something they do,” he murmured with some sarcasm. 
Wife.
The word landed in her mind like a bell rung.
Wife.
The way he said the word, the quiet possessiveness in his voice, sent a shiver down her spine.
She could feel his chest pressing against her back, the heat of it seeping through her shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
Zahra let out a shaky breath, her heart stuttering inside her chest. "Wife," she repeated quietly, testing the word on her tongue. 
“Or mate,” Azriel said softly. “Either is fine with me. Whatever you prefer.”
She exhaled shakily. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be a proper mate,” she whispered quietly. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to stand the thought of offering him food and triggering the Mating Frenzy. Wasn’t sure if the thought of him, with all his inhibitions bared wasn’t going to terrify her. She never wanted to be terrified of Azriel. She never had been either…but the thought of that it was…she wasn’t sure if she could do that. But she could… “But I could be your wife.”
Azriel's arms tightened around her at her words, his body shifting to press even closer against her. She could feel him nuzzling his face into the crook of her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin.
"No such thing as a 'proper mate'," he murmured quietly, his voice low and reassuring. "You are my mate. Regardless if we ever go through a mating frenzy or not," he added, his lips finding the soft spot behind her ear. She shivered slightly as his lips grazed her skin, his touch setting her nerves on fire.
Her heart skipped a beat at his words, the possessiveness in his tone making her breath hitch. “We should get married. You know…only to make sure that Azalea isn’t a bastard,” she told him, biting her lips. Not a bastard like both of the. 
Azriel let out a low chuckle, his arms tightening around her just a fraction."That's the only reason, huh?" he teased, his voice low and amused.
His lips found her neck again, pressing a trail of kisses against her skin.“I love you,” he whispered into her skin.
The simple words made her shiver, her breath catching in her throat.
His lips continued their path up her neck, warm and soft against her skin. She could feel the heat of his body pressing against her back, the warmth of his chest against her back.  His mouth made it to her jawline, his lips brushing against the skin there affectionately. She could feel his breaths against her neck, every exhale sending a fresh wave of heat over her skin and setting her heart a-flutter.
"I love you," he repeated quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I love you and I want to marry you." 
His lips found hers as he tugged her face around. The kiss was gentle, soft and unhurried.
There was no urgency to it, no desperation or force. Just his lips against hers, tasting her slowly, drinking her in.  This and just this…she could do this.
Nothing in this kiss reminded her off before. Nothing hurt, nothing even threatened to hurt and she let him kiss her lazily a until they both had their fill, before she leaned back into the pillows, one enormous wing coming over to cover her and Azalea as well, still curled against her side.Azriel's arm wrapped around her, his body shifting closer until he was pressed flush against her side.
His wing spread over the three of them, creating a makeshift shelter and a comfortable warmth.
He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his breath soft against her skin as he placed a soft kiss behind her ears. The weight of his body was reassuring, a comfort that settled her.
His wing was curled around them both, the shadows dancing like flickering stars across the darkness as his shadows wrapped themselves around them both.
She could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against hers, his body warm and solid, offering comfort and security. His arm was curled around her waist, holding her close, while his other hand began to gently brush her hair.
The motion was soothing, his touch gentle and rhythmic as he combed his fingers through the strands. 
“Is there a priestess around Rosehall?” She asked him softly.
Azriel let out a soft hum, his hand stilling in her hair as he considered the question.
"There is," he answered quietly, his lips brushing against the side of her neck. "Why?" 
“If we do this…” she said softly, “let’s just do it here. Let’s just do it, just for the two of us and nobody else.”
Azriel's lips curled into a soft smile as she spoke, his arm tightening around her waist.
"Just the two of us?" he asked, his voice soft and full of affection."Are you sure?"
His mouth found her neck again, his lips tracing a slow path up. “Maybe your mother and Azalea,” she said softly. “But nobody else.”
He chuckled against her skin, the sound so low and soft she could feel the vibrations of it against her spine.
"You want my mother there?" he asked, his voice still tinged with laughter. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck again, his lips brushing against her pulse point. “And I suppose Azalea can be our flower girl,” he murmured into her skin, amusement in his voice. “But if you want it like that…we’ll do it,” Azriel agreed softly. “I hate big parties, you know that.”
“Just us,” she repeated.
“Just us,” Azriel said softly. “We’ll go see a priestess tomorrow.”
She smiled at him, craning her head to press another kiss against his lips.Azriel hummed against her mouth, returning the kiss with equal affection.
His hand slid back up to sift through her hair again, his fingers carding through the strands in a way that sent pleasurable tingles down her spine.
His wing shifted, curling more closely around them, enveloping them in its darkness. “Sleep now, sunshine” he told her seriously.
And so she did.
With Azriel's body pressed to hers, his arms circled around her waist, his wing draped over her and Azalea and his lips against her neck, she let herself drift into sleep easily.
The sound of Azriel's quiet, steady breaths in her ear was like a lullaby, soothing and familiar. 
“Are you sure you don’t at least want some kind of celebration?!” Esmeray demanded the next morning, while Zarah was wrangling Azalea to eat her porridge and Azriel and asked his mother where to find the Priestess of Rosehall for an impromptu wedding ceremony.
"I don't want any big celebration," Zahra repeated firmly, balancing a wriggling Azalea on her lap as the baby tried to grab at her spoon. She couldn't help but smile as the girl squealed. "We just want a simple ceremony," she insisted, carefully feeding Azalea before the baby could send porridge flying from her mouth.  “Just us, Azalea and you,” she told Esmeray. “I don’t want to deal with planning a big wedding and neither does Azriel. 
Esmeray huffed, a look of mock-annoyance crossing her face. "My little boy, having a small wedding?" she teased, her voice laced with sarcasm. “I did not see that coming at all.  It’s so unlike him.”
Zahra couldn’t help but laugh. "We prefer it that way," she assured Esmeray. "We just want something simple and intimate. No fuss. Something just for us.”
Esmeray sighed. “It sounds lovely,” she assured Zahra. “But don’t even think you are get out of buying the poor girl a ring, Azriel!”
Azriel let out a soft laugh at his mother's comment. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed leisurely across his chest.
"Of course I'm going to get her a ring," he assured his mother with an amused smile. "I wouldn't dream of not getting her something," he added, his voice soft and affectionate.
He pushed off of the doorframe, striding towards them lazily and sitting down beside Zahra. His wing came out to wrap around them, its shadows playing over Azalea's hair. Azalea squealed, her eyes wide as she tried to swat at the shadows moving about. Zahra couldn't help but laugh at her daughter's antics.
She leaned her head back against Azriel's chest, relishing the comfort of his presence. "Besides," Azriel added, his arm coming around Zahra's shoulders and tugging her closer. "I think she deserves a nice, big, shiny diamond for putting up with me. Don’t you?" 
Esmeray chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course. Something large and sparkling is definitely what's in order," she agreed, glancing at Zahra with a warm smile. 
“Don’t you dare,” Zahra said drily. “I want a simple gold band.“
"Oh come on, honey," Esmeray coaxed, her voice full of mirth.”How about an emerald at least? It would match your eyes!”
“I don’t even wear any jewellery half the time,” Zahra said with a snort. “Azriel can save his money. A gold band more than suffices for me,” she promised him. As long as he was the one giving it to her…
Azriel's smirk softened at her words, his eyes softening.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
"Alright, a simple gold band it is," he conceded, though there was still a hint of teasing in his voice.  "Your wish is my command," he murmured against her skin.
His hand slid down to grasp her own, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss against the back of her knuckles. 
“Come on Zahra, we’ll figure out a dress, Esmeray said with a smile. “If you would have given me more than a few hours of time, I would have made you one but alas,” Esmeray clucked her tongue….we’ll need to see what I can scrounge up that is fit for a bride.“
Zahra let out a huff of laughter, allowing Esmeray to tug her out of her chair and away from Azriel.  
A heavy woolem cream coloured dress ended up being her choice, something she had worn numerous times before. Azriel came upon them in the bedroom, watching from the doorway as Esmeray fussed over her, and at least insisted of putting a couple of poor long suffering wildflowers in her hair. 
He leant against the frame, arms crossed, wings casually held out behind him, a slight smile on his face. “Ready?“ he asked her.
“Do you have your coat?” Esmeray demanded from her son. “I won’t have you get out of providing a bride gift either!“
A bride gift? 
She had no idea what Esmeray was talking about but Azriel did. 
Azriel's smile widened into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"I do have my coat, mother," he replied, his voice amused. “And I’ll get Zahra a bride gift, don’t you worry.”
She had no idea what that was about. Azriel's smirk widened further into a grin as he pushed away from the door frame, striding into the room to join them.
He wrapped an arm around Zahra's waist, tugging her gently against his side.
“It’s illyrian tradition that I gift you a coat at the wedding made from furs of an animal I hunted,” he explained softly. Well, that explained that. "You look beautiful," he murmured into her ear.  
“Thank you,” she whispered right back. Azriel's hand held onto her, his presence reassuring as Esmeray finished fussing over the dress.
She finally got to see Rosehall proper. A bustling little hamlet filled with busy work and laughing children…
Azriel led her down the narrow cobblestone streets, his hand still holding hers loosely. The hamlet was indeed bustling, filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation, the chatter of children and the smells of cooking food. As they walked, people glanced up and waved, some giving them curious looks, but mostly smiles. 
Azriel gave nods of greeting in return, while Esmeray greeted them by name.  He kept his wing curled behind her, shadows swirling lazily about them. 
Azalea, perched on her Zahra’s hip, was wide-eyed and curious, taking in the sights and sounds of the hamlet with unabashed fascination. She wriggled in her mother's arms, her tiny hands reaching for everything and everyone within grasp.
Azriel chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, his hand coming up to ruffle her hair affectionately. "Someone's eager to explore," he commented with a smile, glancing down at her. 
Azalea babbled something incoherent in response, her focus on the surrounding hamlet, her small fingers flexing as if trying to reach out and touch things.
Zahra smiled down at her, her own eyes scanning the surrounding scenery. “Who can blame her?” Zahra answered softly. “She’ll like it at home, I think.”
Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at them both. "Of course she will," he agreed, his voice affectionate.
His hand gave her own another slight squeezed, his wing shifting to wrap a little more firmly around them both as they continued down the street. 
She wasn’t quite sure what to expect of an Illyrian priestess. Was it going to be similar to the blue robes priestesses at the House of Wind?
They arrived at the temple a few minutes later, a simple structure of stone and wood that looked to be well-maintained, despite its rustic nature. There were no blue robes, but instead a young woman speaking in a language Zahra did not understand at all. Illyrian.
“You’ll need to teach me,” she told Azriel quietly as they waited for a moment. “Azalea will need to learn.”
Azriel glanced down at her with a small smile, his eyes soft. “I will,” he promised her, his hand reaching down to squeeze her own.
The young woman turned back to them then, her eyes flickering between the both of them.
“Are you ready?” she asked in a lilting tone.
Azriel gave a nod. He turned to Zahra and Azalea, his gaze meeting her own.
“Are you?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching up to brush back a strand of her hair. Zahra met his gaze, her fingers curling around his own. She swallowed back the flutter in her stomach, glancing back at Azalea, who was still busy looking about the temple with wide eyes.
“Yes.”
That one word was all she could manage in that moment.
Azriel gave a small nod, his smile soft and warm. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, his gaze flickering back to the priestess.
The young woman led them towards the center of the temple, a small but sacred-looking area.The inside was simple, but there was an air of reverence, a feeling of something sacred about the space. 
It wasn’t like a human wedding at all. But then Zahra had never thought that she would get to have this at all either.
And as she looked at Azriel…suddenly it was so easy.
She handed Azalea to Esmeray, while the baby looked on wide eyed and slipped her hands in Azriel‘s scarred once, feeling at home at once.
She didn’t care what blessings the priestess did, didn’t care if they were High Fae or Illyrian, all she cared about was that they bound her to him.
Azriel's hands clasped around her own, his palms warm and calloused against hers.
The sound of the priestess’ voice was a low melody, the words spoken in Illyrian and so foreign to Zahra’s ears. But she didn’t need to understand the words, not with the way Azriel was gazing at her. t was the look in his eyes, the way his hands held her own, like he would never let her go.
His gaze was soft, his eyes filled with an affection that made her feel weak at the knees.
She could lose herself in those eyes. The blessing continued, the priestess’ voice a steady cadence. Azriel’s eyes never left her own, his expression soft as they continued to hold each other's hands, their fingers laced together tightly. 
She did finally figure out for what he needed the coat.
Because when he ceremony neared its end, he pulled it from his own shoulders and clasped it around hers, heavy and warm. As Azriel settled the heavy leather over her shoulders, she immediately felt an added layer of warmth settle over her skin.
The coat was like a solid weight, a reminder and a promise. The scent of cedar and mist immediately teased her senses and she inhaled deeply, the familiar and comforting smell settling over her. His hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment, gently adjusting the garment before coming up to her chin, gently tilting up her face to meet his gaze.
She met his eyes, noting the affection in them, the possessiveness. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. She barely heard the final words of the ceremony as she was lost in that intense gaze of his.
The sound of the priestess’ voice seemed far away, her own heartbeat a steady, quick thrum in her ears.
Azriel's hands continued to cup her face, his fingers warm against her skin. The feeling of his hands against her, the way he held her so carefully and gently as though she was something precious and fragile, sent another flutter through her chest.
His gaze roamed over her face, as if drinking in the sight of her, his expression a mixture of awe and affection. And the he kissed her. A soft warm press of his lips a faint hers.
As his lips met hers, the flutter in her chest grew stronger, a warm feeling spreading throughout her body. She could faintly hear the sound of clapping around them, but she was lost in the feel of him.
His mouth pressed against hers, his hands gentle on her face. 
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dont-look-its-embarrassing · 2 months ago
Text
To Be Seen
Azriel x Reader
This is my first ever one-shot or fanfiction type writing on here, so be patient with me bc it will be FAR from perfect or good.
This is purely self-indulgent bc again, I'm new at this and just wanted to write an insert or y/n type little blurb.
Summary; Being the best friend of Feyre when she was human, you regretfully got roped in and turned with her sisters as a tool for manipulation by Hybern. As the sister's find it hard to settle in claiming the attention of the two other bats, you attempt to make Feyre's and the inner court's life easier by flying under the radar and figuring it out on your own. However, are you really as unnoticed as you hope or is a certain shadowsinger entrapped by your caring and soft nature as his heart battles his mind for the third sister or you.
Warnings: None really, mentions of PTSD and anxiety, loneliness and self-help, slow-burn, slight angst with a fluffy ending, reader just wants to be seen but feels like she can't ask
Word count: 2,389
Pt2
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The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you sat in the drawing room in the house of wind. The gentle crackle of the fire Infront of you allowed your body to sit comfortably within the rather cold season and the book you were just reading sat loose in your lap. You haven't gotten used to your enhanced hearing yet as your now longer and thicker hair gently fell from where you had tucked it behind your ear.
"Y/n?" Your best friend's voice echoed into the room as her footsteps followed. A soft smile spread across your features as she came in, confirmed you where there, and plopped down ungraciously on the couch next to you. "Thank the mother you are here."
Her features where stressed, the worry written all over her face as she took your form in.
"What's going on?" You ask, hopeful to help.
Feyre let out a sigh as she let her eyes wonder to the fire Infront of the both of you.
"Nothing. Everything. I don't know, it seems that everything I do to try and help Nesta and Elaine seems to only make things worse." She rung her hands, a trait she picked up back in the human lands when she was nervous or upset. "It just never seems enough to make them comfortable or to try and apologize for everything that happened."
Your best friend's eyes slightly widened as she took her gaze from the flames.
"How are you? Are you doing okay?" The genuine care and concern oozing off of the female Infront of you reminded you of why you cared so much about your friend in the first place. When she was taken, you had searched high and low for her in hopes to get her back only to have her return happy and healthy with a loving man, or male, doting on her every need. You were ecstatic, and expressed yourself as so, even if it was with fae beings. When you and her sisters were taken, that happiness was put on hold to make sure that you are all where comfortable. Feyre's self-sacrificing nature did always drive you mad, even now when she was so close to being truly happy.
"I'm okay Feyre." She shot you a look, trying to dig deeper and call the bluff you made. "Seriously, I'm here with you and in an amazing place that I could only dream of with great people."
"A lot happened Y/n. A lot happened to Elaine and Nesta, but a lot happened to you." She was right, and it was weird for you to be so put together when the worlds of the other two were falling to pieces. With your more emotional and strong relationship with Feyre, you had been held captive with her sisters yes, but you also took the brunt of interrogation that the wicked king deemed necessary to gain any information of her court. You had put yourself in that position, you knew how awful she would feel about her familial blood being brutalized in such a way, so you took the heat. But, in the end, her sisters still took the change harder and refused to accept their new life, making everyone on edge and overexerting themselves to help.
With one look at your best friend's-tired eyes, you knew that she couldn't handle another burden. More like she shouldn't have to handle another burden.
The word tasted sour on your tongue.
Burden.
Shaking your head a small gentle smile graced your face, and you forced your features to emulate that same energy.
"I'm okay Feyre, really. Aside from some cool new power thing that I haven't figured out, I'm fine. " The breath she released could only register as relief in your mind as she met your smile.
"Okay, and we will definitely start working on that when we are all settled here." Her reassurance did little to reassure that it would be investigated. Again, with the two sisters gaining war altering abilities, your random energy (that had yet to manifest) would be put on the back burner until everyone else was settled. Again, the slight dismissal ached, but you understood the need for others to take precedence.
Giving a little nod, you two sit in silence for a bit just listening to the crackling of the fire and enjoying each other's presence. That is, until a wince rippled across your friends face and she slowly rose.
"I'm sorry, I have to go. I think Elaine is out and not talking to Lucien and it's a mess-"
"It's fine Feyre, go make sure they are okay." You assure with the same smile. Giving one last 'thank you, I love you' she was gone like the wind that howled outside the windows. The silence that followed her exit had the ringing in your ears become a bit to unbearable. Removing yourself from the couch, you travel down to your room and grab a quick change of footwear.
Today would be a good day to explore the town, or at least good enough to get your mind out of the dark slump of trying to acclimate to its' new body and abilities.
Making your way towards the door, a small flicker of shadow catches your eye.
"Hello?" You call. You know that Rhys is most likely with Feyre and Azriel is also probably there because of Elaine, so you dismiss it quickly after a moment, chalking it up to just a trick of the light.
Opening the door, the slight chill on the wind has a shiver run through you, but the sun quickly chased it away. Breathing a sigh, you look at the vastness of the stairs below you.
No time like the present.
Taking one step at a time and avid breaks when needed, you would rather not admit to yourself just how much time that trek took. However, upon reaching the bottom, the satisfaction that filled you outweighed the journey. Walking down the streets of Velaris, the bustling normality of the people filled you with ease. As your heels clicked against the stones below, your gaze just missed the little shadow that trailed behind your body.
Taking in the colors and vibrant people, the ease and happiness that covered their faces had the ache in your gut grow more and more. Your mind wandered to if you would ever be that happy and mundane. With everything that had happened so far, the familiar life in the human forest (although had its struggles) seemed like an ideal. It was the lack of routine, lack of knowledge, the newly sprouted life, the misplacement, all of it plus more. You didn't notice your breathing gain more weight and take longer to fill your lungs than it did at the house. You also didn't notice the little skitter of the shadow that had followed you as it raced away towards some unseen location. The heat in your body seemed to increase as the sight of a simple family loving and walking together entered your mind.
Would anyone love you like this?
You couldn't think.
Ducking into a nearby ally, the overhead sheets and covering allowed it to be shaded and darker than the streets 20 feet away. Even then, the darkness of the ally seemed to illuminate with your presence there. However, it wasn't the light, it was the lack of grasp of oxygen you could inhale and the strenuous shaking your body couldn't stop. The tears that fell without your knowledge burned their tracks into your skin and sizzled as they hit the ground. Your body gave way to the spasms that took ahold of you as your mind raced. Burring your head into your knees, you attempted to shut the world out and let your mind slow but to no avail. You wished the darkness of the alley would swallow you whole, allow the sun and light to escape you being seen just this once.
Almost as if your prayers where in fact answered, the light surrounding you died as the darkness of the ally surrounded you. Picking your head up to view what cloud or magical being answered your plea, your eyes were met with those of hazel crouching Infront of you.
"Azriel?" You hadn't met this male for more than a couple days ago. He was nice, offering to go with you places or chat every so often. You had a couple nightly talks with him where you shared some stories between the two of you. Nothing out of the ordinary though, you felt safe around him when he was near. Confusion washed your features and for a moment your brain stopped running in circles and focused on why the male might be in front of you in this very unfortunate situation.
"You're okay." His large hands had gently pried your head from between your own. He Slowly, as if not to spook you further, reached for your hands and took them in his own. As twisted as it sounded, the morbid scarring that littered his skin grounded you further and pulled you back to this moment and out of that forsaken cell and cold water. "Focus on me, breathe."
The ease of your breath returned as the seeming dark cloud that surrounded you peeled back revealing that same dampened alleyway. However, the slight char on the walls and burns on the ground was distinct enough to question. Looking around, more of those marks surrounded you but faded as it got further from you. Opening your mouth to ask, a quick look from the male had you hesitant as he shook his head.
"One thing at a time sunshine." You nod, ignoring the small butterfly that hatched in your stomach at the nickname, but the pain in your head from the little outburst brought you back to reality. Bringing your hand up to caress the muscle between your eyes, Azriel scanned you from head to toe checking for any other possible injuries. "Let's get you back to the house, okay? Have Madja take a look at you and maybe give you something to help process."
Although the beginning of his statement was directed at you, for an answer, the second part was mumbled more to himself.
"Okay." The short response was all you could get past your lips as he sent you a small smile and opened his arms.
Looking at him questionably, he held back a chuckle.
"Have you never flown?" Shaking your head, no, you had never flown before. Winnowed? Yes, but never in the arms of one of the three males residing in the same house at you. The aspect of Azriel being your first had a little flush cover your cheeks. He approached you carefully, scanning your eyes for any aversion to being touched or space invaded. If you didn't just have a literally breakdown in the middle of Velaris, you could've sworn there was a deeper emotion residing in his eyes.
Guilt?
Worry?
Longing?
You couldn't place it and decided not to keep the process waiting. Taking a step towards him, he kept his arms spread out to accompany your space against his.
"Wrap your arms around me." His voice was lowered with your closer proximity. Slowly you brought your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. He waited until you settled there before moving to hoist you up into his arms and walk slightly out of the alley to give his wings more room to take flight.
While doing so, you couldn't help but settle into his warmth as it felt nice against our colder frame. With all the adrenaline wearing off, you were left shivering.
"Make sure to hold on." He noted, which was all the notice you got before suddenly you two were no longer on the ground. Tightening your grip instinctually, you shut your eyes as you could practically feel the male smile at your nature.
"How did you get down there anyway?" With the loud wind it was hard to hear, but again due to the lack of space between the two of you his voice rang clear.
"I walked."
"Down those?" Without realizing the easygoing atmosphere he created, you had peered open your eyes to look down at the stairs you both were currently soaring over. Only a brief look however as you still had some human tendencies and did have a slight aversion to heights.
"Yeah." You nodded and went to shut your eyes once more to finish out the flight, but as you did you caught sight of a new look on the spymaster's face.
Pride.
Landing as softly as possible, Madja was already there waiting for the two of you to arrive. Without thinking, you blamed it on the spymaster's shadows (but grateful they were there). Feyre also stood to the side of her, worry wringing her hands again and you let out a sigh of defeat.
Stumbling out of Azriel's arms, he steadied you, giving a once over before his high lady had shot him an inquiring look. She looked at you shortly after.
"You are never to lie to me again Y/n, you hear?" Her chastising voice was filled with love and worry all the same.
But before you could open your mouth to respond with a thousand reasons why you might, a certain male beat you too it.
"Don't go too hard on her, admittedly we have all been a bit busy to check in." You both glanced back at the male in question as his shadows wrapped around him in song. He has said it was so to promise his attention to fix the problem, which warmed your core.
"She will be okay Feyre." Meeting eye contact with him, he had sent you a small nod of his head and smile before disappearing into the dark.
Your best friend looked at you in question, but a deeper thought was spinning in her head. However, the little throat clear of the healer nearby jumpstarted the next 24 hours of care and therapy from your best friend and the best healers in Prythian. The whole endeavor couldn't tear your thoughts to a certain inner court male and the way his arms felt around you.
Maybe you would be okay.
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lacroixwh0r3 · 1 year ago
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Blow My Load
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DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: For the last two year, you and Joel have been secretly hooking up behind your fathers back. One night when your dad goes out on a date, you and Joel spend the night together and Joel gets carried away.
Warnings: SMUT!! DUB CON, petnames (pretty tame ones), doggystyle, oral sex (f recieving), PiV, creampie, crying, pregnancy mention, abortion mentioned at the end, overstimulation, Joel is a little bit of an asshole in this (I am so sorry), age gap (Joel is 40 and reader is around 25), (aged up) Sarah mentioned, no outbreak
Song inspo (Feel free to listen if you want): Blow my load by Tyler, The Creator
A/N: Enjoy! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333
"Oh, baby," Joel moans as he breaks the kiss between you two. You look down at his lips, which are now bright red and slightly plumped. His tongue quickly licks off the mix of both of your spits from his bottom lip. His hands were still holding your head in place as he looked at you. "I wanna cum in that tight little pussy so bad, darlin."
Normally, the two of you would have to be quiet, but because your dad had decided last minute to go on a date, it was just you and Joel in the house. Or you might even go over to Joel's house, which was five minutes away, if Sarah wasn't home, but tonight the young girl was at the house with three of her friends having a sleepover doing, lord knows, what. Joel was adamant about staying over to watch the four girls, but you quickly reminded him that they're 18 years old and could easily take care of themselves. You were also going to be home alone, and you wanted him all to yourself.
As soon as your dad pulled out of the driveway, you and Joel ran to your bedroom and stripped out of your clothing.
You couldn't help but let out a whimper. "Joel, you know you can't do that." You tell him as you bring your hands up to grip his wrist. You weren't on birth control, and Joel wasn't a big fan of condoms. When the two of you did have sex together, Joel would usually pull out at the very last second, which would lead to you giving him a lecture as you both came down from the intense orgasm you both had.
Sure, it was hot when Joel did it, but you would rather not have to tell your dad that you were pregnant with his best friend's baby, and you didn't want Joel to tell Sarah that he had gotten the girl she looked up to the most pregnant.
"I know, darlin', I know, but imagine how fuckin' good it must feel." Joel whispered to you as he groans out. He brings his head close to yours again. You could feel his lips ghosting over yours.
"I'm fucking you until you can't think straight, begging me to dump my warm load deep into your pussy." Joel says before he sticks his tongue out again, only this time his tongue strokes against my top lip. You felt a strong pull in your stomach as your pussy clenched around nothing, causing you to push your hips into Joel's. "Maybe even put a baby in there." He says it lightly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, but somehow you still heard it but didn't comment on it.
You couldn't help but think about earlier, when Joel had lifted your dress up and ate you out on your family's couch in the living room while your dad ran to the store to restock on beer and some food for dinner. The way he sat down on the floor as he wrapped his large hands around your ankles to keep your legs from closing or falling off the couch Or the way he slurped, licked, and sucked on your clit to the point you almost wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.
You parted your lips to allow Joel's tongue to invade your mouth. Joel cocks his head to the side a bit and sucks on your tongue before letting it go and French kissing you. You can feel it as the drool slides down your chin, getting onto his beard. You feel Joel's hands release your face and move down your neck, stopping at your breast. He fondles them and thumbs your nipples. They were painfully hard now.
You wanted nothing more than for Joel to fuck you senselessly until you couldn't think of anything but him. Joel always turned you on when he talked to you like this, but you were ovulating right now, and his words weren't helping.
You pull away from the kiss. "Fuck me, Joel," You mutter against his lips. "I want you to fuck me hard, daddy."
"Yeah, you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Get on the bed so Daddy can fuck you," He says sternly. "I want you face down, ass up, darlin'." You immediately get to the edge of the bed, just as Joel told you to, with your feet hanging off.
You can feel Joel close behind you in between your legs as he reaches over your naked body and grabs the pillow near your head. "Get on your hands for me real quick," He tells you. Again, you do what he says, and he stuffs the pillow underneath your stomach. "Good girl, now lay back down on your chest." He tells you once more. You lay back down and realized that your hips were now elevated, allowing Joel to easily access your pussy.
"Oh, look at you, so fuckin' sexy with your ass in the air, just ready for me to fuck you," He teases you. "You want me to fuck that pretty pussy, doll?" Joel asked. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing. Begging for your hole to be fucked
"Mmmhm." You whimper at Joel as you nuzzle your face into the soft sheets beneath you. However, your response did not satisfy him because he spanked your ass with his large hand. Your head pops off the bed, causing you to look back at him over your shoulder.
"Say it." Joel demanded it from you. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."
"I've wanted you since you got here, baby. I've been so fucking wet for that big cock." You whimpered as you wiggled your ass in the air, causing him to strike your ass again.
"Oh, I know you want my cock, honey. You want me to fuck my cum into you? Hmm?" He spanked you multiple times. You let out soft whines as you shook my head.
"Hmm? What's that, baby? You want me to cum in you?" He not-so-jokingly asked:
"I mean it, Joel. You can't cum inside of me or I'm gonna kill you, old man." You give him a pointed look over your shoulder, causing him to raise his hand in defense with his eyebrows raised. You meant it jokingly, but also not jokingly.
"I promise I won't, baby." He tells you.
"Mmhm, now I want you to fuck me, Joel." You demand him. His left hand grips your waist as the other wraps around his cock as he strokes it, getting ready to slide it into you. You feel him rub his cock against your clit as he gathers the arousal that seeps out of your hole. You moan out his name as he hisses.
Joel then points the head of his cock at your pussy and slowly slides inside. Letting out a deep groan as he does so. "Oh f-fuck, baby," He shudders. Your toes had curled up in pleasure as you dropped your head onto the sheets. "Pussy so fucking tight and warm... I might just have to cum in this pussy and make you a momma, huh?" He questions you as he slowly begins to push in and out of you. Joel felt the flutter after he said that.
"Oh, you liked that, baby?" Joel teases you. His slow strokes began to form a hard, fast pounding. "Tell me."
"I am going to fu-Oh fuck me-I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Joel!" You moan out to him as he continues his furious strokes. His balls slapped against your clit as he pushed your waist into the pillow beneath you. "Y-you have to fucking pull out," You plead with Joel. You knew that he wasn't listening as he continued to pound his cock in and out of you.
"You promised me!" You squeal out. Joel only grunted in reply and spanked your ass with full force as his left hand gripped your hips.
Somehow, Joel's thrust had only gotten faster. You could hear your headboard hitting against your wall and the sound of my ass slapping against Joel's hips. It was all too much. Your knees began to burn from the friction, your hips began to grow sore as he tightened his grip on them, and with each hit to your ass, there was a sharp sting that lingered. That's when you knew that both you and Joel were close to orgasming.
"Oh, J-Joel, baby, please!" Suddenly, it hit you. You were cumming so hard that you didn't know what to do with yourself. The combined feeling of Joel's heavy balls slapping against your clit and his cock rubbing the spot deep within you was overpowering, causing tears to form.
You grabbed the pillow that sat near your head and brought it close to your face. You bite down on the pillow as your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out loud moans into it.
"Oh my fucking god, baby..." Joel strains out his sexy, deep voice. He spanks you again as you cum around his cock and rub your ass cheek to soothe the pain. "Come on, sweet girl, tell me who's making you feel good." His strokes had begun to slow down now.
You release the pillow from between your teeth. You were so far gone from your ongoing orgasm that you couldn't even form words. Goosebumps had formed around your whole body as you shaked and quivered.
You feel him bring his hand up and smack your ass hard again, causing your body to jerk in response. "Tell me, girl! Who's makin' you cum this hard?" Joel grits his teeth as he slowly thrusts into you.
"It's you, Daddy!" You moan out to him as you reach your arm around you to grab onto his fingers on your waist. Joel moans and slowly picks up the pace of his thrust. You could feel his balls tighten against your clit, letting you know that he was nearly cumming. You look over your shoulder at him.
"That's fuckin' right, daddy is fucking you." He fucks himself into you. "O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' cum soon, my sweet girl." Joel continues to hold onto your hand while his other hand lazily spanks your ass some more. You watch as his head falls back and his eyes close. You feel yourself close to another orgasm as well, but you can't help but worry that Joel isn't going to pull out on time.
"J-Joel," You moan to him as you grip the sheets on the bed. "You have to pull out; I'm ovulating, and you're gonna get me pregnant if you don't." You tried to tell him so that he could pull out. However, this only seemed to turn him on more. His cock strained in you all while he continued to stroke against the spot inside of you. You released his hand, slipped it between the pillow, and onto your clit. You rubbed your clit fast as he fucked you.
Joel looked like he had been transported to heaven. He looked down at you with both hands on your hips, gripping them hard. It hurt, but you didn't care.
"Oh, baby, I love you so fuckin' much," he whimpered as he looked into your eyes. "I'm so sorry," He says, looking down at his cock going in and out of your pussy. The sight of your juices covering his cock made his body go stiff. That's when you knew he wasn't going to pull out.
"I can't stop; I need to fuckin' cum in this tight pussy right now."
"Joel! No, pull out now." You told him as you tried to move your body away from his, but his grip was too tight around you. "You promised me, Joel!" You moaned loudly.
You weren't sure how many times you had orgasmed today, but you knew that you were cumming again. Joel moans as he feels you tighten around him. His cock begins to spurt his warm cum into your womb. You were so overstimulated that your eyes leaked tears and your ears rang loudly as your cunt welcomed Joel's cum and fluttered around his cock. Over the ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel whimpering out soft appologies as he continued to cum.
With his cock still inside you as you leaked out cum from your pussy, he laid his warm body on top of your back. His chest was damp with sweat from pounding into you. You could feel his warm breath by your ear as he took a minute to gather himself together. He still felt your walls fluttering around him. "It's okay, babydoll. I got you," He whispered gently as he stroked your bare side. You couldn't speak or think; all you could do was shiver underneath his body, even though you were far from cold.
Moments later, Joel pushes up from the bed and slowly pulls his cock from you with a slight hiss and groan. Joel bends down to get a look at your cum-filled pussy with his hands resting on your ass. "Oh doll, look at that pretty pussy," He whispers as he strokes his thumb against your sore ass. "I'll be back, okay, baby?" You let out a soft hum, letting him know he heard you.
When he went to the bathroom to clean you off and get something to clean you off, he didn't hear you burst into tears. When he came back, you were now sitting in the middle of the bed, crying with your head in your hands.
He rushes into the room, places the water bottle and towel on the bed, and embraces you. You couldn't help but cry harder as you cried into his neck. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." He apologized as he kissed and rubbed your head. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I don't even know what I was thinking."
You continued to cry for a few more moments before speaking up. "Joel, what if you did get me pregnant? What are we going to tell my dad and Sarah?" You look up at him with worry. He could tell you were stressed over this and couldn't help but feel his heart pull in his chest. Joel honestly didn't know what came over him during sex.
"Doll," He grabs your hand from your lap and gives it a quick kiss. "If you do get pregnant and you decide that you want to get rid of it, I will be there along the way, but if you want to keep it, then I will be sure to take care of you and the baby no matter what." Joel says it truthfully.
You stroked his hand with your thumb. "Joel, I'm not getting rid of it, but we're gonna be so fucked when my dad finds out his best friend of four years has been boning his daughter for the last two years and got her pregnant..." You say this to him as you look down at his hand in yours. "He'll fucking probably end up kicking me out and then kicking your ass."
"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that darlin'; you're always welcomed at my house." With his other hand, he holds your head and kisses the crown of your head. "As for him kicking my ass, that ain't happening, sweetheart," He says sternly, as if he is sure. You let out a snort as you laughed.
"Oh really?" You back away from him to get a look at the cocky look on his face. He just looks down at your face with admiration.
"I'm certain, darlin'," He tells you, causing you to let out a loud giggle. That beautiful giggle overwhelmed Joel with love. He knew he loved you before, and he always made sure that you knew he loved you, but he knew right there that there would be another compared to you. You were it for him.
After your giggles had died down, you noticed that he was looking at you with a sparkling look in his eyes. "What?" You asked him softly as you played with his fingers.
"You know I love you, right?" He asked you. You felt yourself beginning to get shy. The both of you always told each other how much you loved each other, but something about this was different.
"Of course I know, Joel. Do you know I love you more, though?" You lean over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. You then pull back to take a look at his face. The way his hard eyes softened when he looked at you made you weak in the knees. "So fuckin' handsome!" Joel's cheeks turned a soft pink color.
"And you're the most beautiful thing on earth," He whispers to you. "You're mine forever; don't ever forget it, darlin'." You wish this moment could last forever.
You released his hands from yours and brought them to your stomach. "I can't believe we might be having a baby, Joel," You whispered as you stroked your stomach. You could see you and Joel sharing a child together and even getting married whenever the time is right. He puts his hand over yours as well and rubs his thumb against your hand.
"You want me to cum in you again so we know we're successful, baby?" He suggested it with a smug tone. The soft look on your face immediately dropped and was replaced with a blank one instead.
"You're such a dirty old man," You tell him. "But yes, I do." You give him a quick peck on the lips before laying back down on the bed.
================================================
A/N: I kinda hate this, but its been on my mind and I wanted to write.
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cutielando · 5 months ago
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i literally love the idea of a reader that LOVES haircare and one day carlos decides to take a shower w her and she teaches him how to use the products
hair routine | c.s.
my masterlist
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Everyone knew the magic that Carlos' hair held.
The fans, the F1 reporters, his family, your friends; there was nobody who knew Carlos that wasn't absolutely enamored with his hair.
You were one of those people, if not the biggest fan of his hair.
Ever since the two of you got together, your hands would always be tangling themselves in the strands of his hair, enjoying the softness of his locks and the volume it always had.
Carlos was slightly amused whenever you would lay down next to him and your hands would unconsciously gravitate towards his hair, enjoying the attention to his head. Especially the free head scratches he got at the same time.
However, you were quite annoyed at your boyfriend because he wouldn't let you use some products to maintain it.
You had so many hair masks which would help his hair be ever healthier than it already was, give it even more volume and make it even softer, yet he always denied you the satisfaction of using them on him.
"Mi amor, my hair is completely fine the way it is. I don't want any products to damage my perfectly healthy hair" he would always say.
To be honest, you didn't believe him for a second. He was just embarrassed of using feminine products in order to keep his hair soft and stylish.
Men.
However, you weren't letting it go so easily.
You were determined to get him to finally let you use your products on his hair, whether he liked it or not.
But, as it turns out, you didn't have to do much, because he came to you with the proposal all by himself.
It happened when he came back from dinner with the Ferrari team following the Spanish Grand Prix.
You had decided to stay behind at home and have a night to yourself, take a very long and fruitful shower and just enjoy a quiet night in.
Just as you were shampooing your hair, you heard the bathroom door open and Carlos' voice fill the air.
"Mi amor" he called out, leaning back against the counter.
You stuck your head out the shower and smiled at him before returning back to your shampoo routine.
"Hi, love. How was dinner?" you called out, hearing him shuffling outside the shower door but paying him no mind.
"It was good, talked a little bit about our pace and everything" he said, stripping of his clothes before stepping into the shower with you.
You leaned back against him as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind him, enjoying his calming presence.
Carlos planted open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, but started coughing and spitting when he realized you were full of shampoo.
"You're such a dork sometimes" you said while laughing, stepping under the water jet to wash everything off.
Carlos glared at you but couldn't get mad, seeing you being completely at ease while taking such good care of yourself and your body.
He eyed you as you picked up bottle after bottle, putting all kinds of different colored liquids in your hair.
"What do you use all of those for?" he asked after you take the 4th bottle in your hand and squirt some liquid into your palm.
"They're all different hair masks that help keep my hair roots healthy and the texture of my hair soft" you explained, giving him a smile before getting back to work.
Carlos stood there and thought about it for a moment. Admittedly, your hair was always so soft and smelled so nice, and you had been bugging him for ages to let you take care of his hair.
And to be honest, he just needed to be dotted on after the disappointing result of his home race and the awkward dinner he had just sat through.
"Do you think you could teach me how to use those on my hair?" he asked, making you pause your actions and turn to look at him with a wide smile and sparkling eyes.
"You're really going to let me do it?" you cooed, looking up at him with the most adorable puppy eyes you could muster.
He sighed, but smiled once he realized just how excited he had made you about such a little thing.
And when he nodded, he could only sit there in silence while you explained a whole routine for him, carefully telling him about all the advantages of keeping his hair clean and healthy.
But he wouldn't have it any other way.
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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 11 months ago
Text
Kinkmas (11)- The Grinch Who Stole Her Heart
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Wanda X Reader 18+
Summary: When a certain witch discovers your hate for Christmas, she can't help but try her best into convincing you to love the festive season.
Word Count: 10.8k 
Warnings/Tags: Friends to Lovers, Slow burn, Fluff, Domestic Avengers, Christmas Fluff, Flirting, Crushes, Mutual Pining, Christmas Decorating, Gingerbread houses, Ice Skating, Snowball Fights, Soft Smut, First time, Inexperienced Wanda/Experienced Reader, Fingering, Praise, Confessions, Aftercare 
Kinkmas Masterlist
---
Gentle chatter and a tranquil, festive atmosphere wrapped around the common room of the compound like a warm, cosy blanket, most of the team bunched up on various sofas with snacks ready in hand, waiting for Wanda to finally press the play button to start Home Alone on the big screen.
The witch, however, was not ready to start the movie, her eyes flickering over the content and excited faces of the team, searching for one individual in particular.
You.
Where were you?
"Where's Y/n?" Wanda asked, puzzled, the soft murmur in the room going quiet, curious and confused gazes meeting one another at the brunette's question, apprehensive to tell the truth.
Natasha carefully placed down the bowl of popcorn that was in her lap, inadvertently stopping Clint from stealing more of the treat which made him grumble a little, the redhead looking between the rest of the team, not wanting to dampen the young woman's mood.
It had become abundantly clear over the last few days and since the start of December that Wanda was in love with the idea of Christmas and all the festive traditions, the team having tried their best to keep you away from her, despite the witch subconsciously seeking you out, her mind unable to explain why her heart would flutter in your presence, her mood always being lifted by you.
"Y/n isn't a 'fan' of Christmas," Natasha cautiously phrases her words, not wanting to ruin the mood that was so gratefully appreciated in the room, the uplifted mood of Christmas enabling the mighty Avengers to have some time to relax and spend together as a family.
"What?" Wanda's tone signalling her confusion at how someone could possibly not like Christmas, her head tilting in her usual manner, Pietro speeding from the sofa to stand with his sister, seemingly just as baffled.
"How can she not be a fan of Christmas?" Pietro adds, just as obsessed with the festive season as his sister, his love for it being driven by the sheer amount of food and presents though.
"She just..." Natasha trails off, thinking how to explain your lack of jolliness, her eyes flickering to Clint for a little help. The archer simply shrugs, her leg kicking back at his shin for his lack of usefulness, a small yelp escaping him as he grabs the popcorn bowl, deciding that the food would be a sufficient apology from her.
"She hates it," Tony bluntly puts it, everyone's head turning from the sofas to the billionaire in the kitchen, fixing himself a ridiculously large hot chocolate in the beautifully decorated kitchen, annoyance written across Steve and Natasha's face as they wanted to keep it a peaceful evening.
"She doesn't 'hate' it," Steve tries to reason, his blue eyes flickering towards Sam and Bucky who are disinterested in what's going on, most likely bickering between themselves over who gets more room on the sofa.
"Oh come on Capsicle," Tony teases, Steve's cheeks darkening at the nickname the man uses for him, mumbling under his breath an 'oh god' at the billionaire's mischievous tone. "She hates it. End of. We've all tried to get her to like it but she just refuses to enjoy the Christmas spirit," he says whilst placing his steaming mug down, flopping onto his section of the sofa and asking Friday to lower the lights, wanting to watch the film now. "Now, are we going to watch the film or not?" He asks, clearly not bothered by your absence.
"Not all of us have tried," Wanda says after a moment, tossing the remote to Natasha, hoping she'd somehow keep the boys in check, knowing the chaos the entire team could cause without her magic there to stop objects flying across the room. "Start the film without me," Wanda calls out, walking out of the room, determined to find your room and figure out a way to persuade you into falling in love with the magical season.
Despite not figuring out a plan, the brunette knocks on your door with purpose, waiting outside for you to open up, various thoughts flooding through her mind as she impatiently plays with the rings on her fingers.
Eventually, you open your bedroom door, your brow raising at her current outfit, a smug smirk creeping onto your lips. The Christmas themed pyjamas amused you as you let your eyes wander down the various festive items decorating the fabric, the red and green chequered pants slightly too long for her as they pooled around her ankles, the fluffy socks further entertaining you as you stood in a simple, thin shirt and joggers, a stark contrast to her holiday themed get up.
"What-"
"Why do you hate Christmas?" she asks, enticing green eyes gazing into yours curiously, your eyes widening at her forward question, a soft chuckle escaping you, Wanda unable to stop the swarm of butterflies in her stomach at the sound.
"Why do you love Christmas?" You counter, leaning against the door frame as you see various emotions flicker across her face, your features softening at her adorably annoyed state.
"Why do I love Christmas?" She repeats almost shocked, still baffled at the whole ordeal, "It's just magical," her tone laced with the love she has for the time of year. "It's a time to spend with family, to give gifts, to have fun with silly traditions," she lists, watching closely to your reactions as your soft expression remains uninterested.
"Just seems like a lot of effort to me," you casually say, her brows furrowing at your words, mouth parting and closing, unsure of what to say. "Is that all you wanted to ask? I'm currently in the middle of a mission report," your tone is annoyingly soft and calm, determination brewing in Wanda to show you how amazing Christmas was but still unsure how.
"No, I..." she trails off for a moment, tilting her head marginally to the side as she thinks hard about how to convince you. "Do you really hate it?" She asks, tone trying her best to hide the disappointment that filled her, your smile softening, body pushing yourself off the frame of the door to look at her properly, still amused at her clothing.
"It's just not for me, Wanda," your tone apologetic as you gathered how much she loved the season, your heart clenching a little at the despondent look that took over her face, wishing you could ensure a smile was always on her lips, only ever wanting her to be happy.
"Ok," she whispers, slowly nodding at your words and turning around to retreat to where the rest of the team was, a sudden idea entering her mind as she hears you shutting the door. "Give me one week," her tone desperate and rushed as your hand halted, opening the door with a confused look, laughing softly as she quickly walked back over to the door, fluffy socks sliding a little on the smooth floor.
"What?" your tone matches the curiosity engraved on your face, smile widening at the glint of hope in her eyes.
"Give me one week to show you how magical Christmas is," she explains further, her enchanting green eyes almost putting you under a spell, part of you contemplating giving into her despite your dislike for everything about December 25th. Your face shows your conflicted state, Wanda taking your delayed response as a win, her nose scrunching up in a way that has your heart beating wildly in your chest, an inexplicable onrush of affection flowing through you. "Please?" she adds, excitement creeping into he tone as you sigh out heavily, unable to resist the soft spot you had for her, a smile gracing your features.
"One week," you begrudgingly say, a smile still present on your face though as her lips stretch into a wide grin, joy filling her as various ideas flood through her mind, ready to warm you up to the season.
***
"I'm not so sure you're trying to convince me," you mutter, lifting the heavy box of decorations and trudging your way towards her room, "I feel like you're just using me for slave labour," you grumble, peaking over the box to watch your step, bumping into the corner of the door frame before dropping the box onto the floor, a rattle of baubles filling the room.
"If you stopped complaining and acting like the grinch this would be a whole lot easier," she teases, crouching down and opening the box, looking up at you with a small smirk that has you rolling your eyes, happiness taking over your chest as you follow her command.
"The grinch is an icon," you mumble, flickering your gaze away from the aesthetic decorations in the box and into her alluring green, finding them far more interesting than the shiny plastic objects.
"Yeah? And why is that?" Her tone is playful and cheerful, eliciting an involuntary smile from you as you struggle to maintain your composure near her, the crush you thought you had gotten over seeming to resurface, her brow raising expectantly as she waits for you to continue.
"He lives in a mountain with his dog, away from people, sounds like heaven to me," your tone slightly sarcastic, earning a soft laughter from her, her eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. Her gaze drifts away from you as her own heart starts to beat wildly in her chest at being able to spend time with you, her lips pulling up into a shy smile. "And he's green," you add, a humorous grin taking over your face, cracking her composure.
A giggle leaves her lips at your tone, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tries to stifle her laugh, her eyes meeting yours with an amused glimmer in them, your smile widening as warmth floods through you in a tender manner.
"What's so special about the colour green?" She manages to ask when she stops laughing, entertained by your words, reluctantly turning her back away from you as she moves towards the tree in her room with a bundle of lights, beckoning you over as she untangles them, wanting your help to decorate her room as she hadn't had time to do it yet.
It's the colour of your eyes is what you initially think of saying, a small blush appearing on your cheeks as you rethink an answer, grateful she wasn't looking at you as you thought it, her head soon looking back over her shoulder as you don't answer.
"I don't know," you unconvincingly respond, shoulders shrugging, "It's just a cool colour." Wanda chuckles, clearly not believing your vague answer as she looks at your form over her shoulder, playfully shaking her head before continuing to wrap the lights around the pine tree while you gradually make your way over to her, your attention flickering over to her desk.
"Oh my god," you laugh out, admiring the framed photograph of Wanda and Pietro dressed up for Halloween in Sokovia, chuckling at their ridiculous outfits. "Pietro looks like Fury with that eye patch," you snicker out, Wanda rushing over to you and sliding the photo out of your hands, embarrassed by her toothy grin in it, a smile still on her face as she hears your genuine laugh, her gaze moving to the photo of her and her brother that she always loved.
"He wanted to be his own version of a pirate," she explains with a nostalgic tone, placing down the photo while you just admire her features, getting lost in thought again, the feelings you tried to bury trying their best to take over you as you simply smile at her softly, a tender expression taking over her face at your enamoured gaze.
"I bet he was just as annoying as a child as he is now," you tease, making her laugh again, your heart melting at being able to hear the sound again, the brunette placing an ornament in your hand to stop you procrastinating, sensing your attempt at stalling her plans.
"Even more," she jokes, her fingers brushing over yours softly, the touch engraved in your memory as they pull away from you, Wanda snapping you out of your thoughts as she continues. "Now come on, we have a tree to decorate," her tone adding excitement to it as you let out a displeased grumble, still smiling at her though.
Maybe, just maybe, the next week wasn't going to be as bad as you thought.
***
"I hope you know I'm only here because you promised me food," you mumble whilst your hand supports your head as you sit at the kitchen island, eyes wandering around the various decorations littered around the room then towards the woman in front of you, observing how she rolls out the gingerbread.
A soft, genuine smile takes over her face in amusement, her gaze lifting to meet your form watching her attentively, chuckling softly as she continues to measure out the dimensions for the house she intended on making, a playful and teasing expression taking over her angelic features.
"Is that so?" she asks, slicing through the dough she's rolled to create the walls of the house, your eyes trained on the deft way her fingers move, gaze lifting to watch her concentrate, in awe of her working. You knew Wanda loved to cook and bake, but to watch her properly, almost intimately, made you truly appreciate her love for the hobby.
"Yep," you say while popping the 'p', smiling at the way she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, a streak of powdered sugar visible against her skin, your teeth biting down on your lip to stop yourself from laughing at her cute state.
"Well if someone wants to eat they have to help," her tone reprimanding you for not helping her at all so far.
"I've helped," you say, pretending to take offence as she uses her magic to softly push you off the stool at the kitchen island, a small groan leaving you as you eventually wander around the kitchen to stand next to her. "Does moral support not mean anything anymore?" you mutter as she hands you a spoon, your fake mood crumbling away at the way she peers up at you with a raised brow, the streak of sugar making you smile.
"What?" she laughs out when you end up staring at her forehead too long, a nervous expression on her face as you grab a cloth from the countertop and delicately wipe away the mess on her skin, her cheeks a similar colour to her magic as she tries to control her emotions, a shy smile taking over her features as you meet her gaze with an affectionate look.
"There's my contribution," you joke, tossing the cloth back onto the countertop as Wanda sees the small smear of powdered sugar on the fabric, the wave of embarrassment never coming as you continue to smile at her, her head shaking at your antics.
"You're not getting out of it that easy," she chuckles out, setting up the bowl for you to make the icing in, handing you everything you'd need before checking on the gingerbread that was in the oven, making sure everything was going to plan.
After you've made the icing and the dough is baked to perfection as well as having cooled down, Wanda starts to put together the house with your help, deciding to ask Friday to help encourage the festive spirit by getting them to play the witch's Christmas playlist, an amused glint present in your eyes as you picture her listening to the music on her own, most likely dancing to each tune.
Your fingers carefully hold the wall of gingerbread, Wanda delicately piping the icing along the edges to help stabilise the structure, the smell of the freshly made treat making your mouth yearn to taste the delicious flavours, the other woman humming the tune to the song that was playing as you assembled the house together. Quicker than you expected, you had the house made and just in need of decorating, your gaze now on Wanda who softly sang the lyrics to 'Last Christmas', a mischievous smile taking over your face.
As if sensing your gaze on her, she met your admiring stare, her smile stretching that little bit wider as she lifts the spoon from the icing bowl, using it as a microphone as she keeps her enchanting eyes on you.
"Tell me, baby, do you recognise me?" she sings, her voice angelic as you can't help but watch in awe as she subtly dances near you, walking behind your body and enticing you to follow her. "Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me," her gentle voice sounding around the room, blessing your ears as she sings the iconic song, "'Happy Christmas', I wrapped it up and sent it, with a note saying 'I love you' I meant it, now I know what a fool I've been." Her words further lure you into being amazed by her, your body turning once again to follow her movements, her body next to yours as she places the bowls she's just collected on the countertop, her eyes lifting up to meet your enamoured gaze, "But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again." Your breath hitches at the way her eyes subconsciously drift to your lips before flickering back up, the soft, loving glint evident in her eyes as the gaze lingers, her only breaking the gaze when the desire to kiss you becomes too strong.
"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart but the very next day-"
"You sold it on ebay," you interrupt, a teasing smile on your lips as you steal the piping bag from her, a laugh spilling from her lips at your immature behaviour. "This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to Marks and Spencers," her hand lightly slaps your arm as you 'ruined' the chorus for her, her smile almost reaching her ears though at the pure joy you managed to fill her with, your arms raising in surrender as you see wisps of magic flicker at her fingers, knowing how she could torture you with ticklish sensations like she did a couple days ago when decorating the tree. "Ok, ok," you laugh out in surrender as the red tendrils brush over your skin, "Tesco extra instead of Marks and Spencers?"
She simply smacks you lightly once again on the shoulder, her hand lingering against your body before pulling back, rolling her eyes at your amused and smug smile, cheekily squeezing a little of the icing onto your finger to taste it.
"Mhmm delicious," you softly moan at the sweet treat, exaggerating your love for the simple food you made, Wanda stealing the bag back from you and pointing it at you like it was a weapon.
"Stop eating all the decorations," she mutters, using her magic to push away the bowl full of sprinkles, laughing softly at the way your hand misses and hits the table, a small pout forming on your lips.
"Fine," you grumble as she hands you the piping bag back, letting you have full reign on decorating the gingerbread house, something she'd inevitably regret.
***
A couple hours later you're sprawled out against the sofa, a bowl of the broken gingerbread house in your lap as you tilt your head to look at Wanda, once again admiring her features while she was fully immersed in whatever was playing on the tv.
Your eyes focus on each delicate feature of her face, trailing over the slight dust of pink on her cheeks, a few strands of brunette locks framing her face perfectly and the gentle slope of her nose before spending a little more time admiring her plump lips and eventually settling on her mesmerising eyes. Your heart clenched a little at her beauty, your gaze eventually being torn away from her as you knew you shouldn't think of her as more of a friend, to get lost in fantasy of what it would feel like to be with her all over again as you remember the pain of pushing it all down.
The soft giggle that left her lips immediately knocked you out of your thoughts, the smile that seemed ever present near her emerging once again as you raised your brow at her when you met her gaze, her nose scrunching in that captivating manner as red wisps form at the tips of her fingers once again.
"I thought we were going to share the gingerbread," She teases lightly, using her magic to steal a piece from you, your hand wrapping protectively around your bowl of treats.
"Woah, this is mine Maximoff," you defensively say, using her surname playfully, addicted to the taste of the icing you used to cover most of the crisp gingerbread, the aim of your decorations to give you a sugar overload. "I decorated it," you mumble, squinting your eyes at her when she floats over a larger piece from the bowl in faux annoyance, your hands placing the bowl down as there way no way you'd be able to stop her magic, your eyes watching with interest how the red tendrils delicately flow through the air.
"And I made it," she counters, biting into the corner of the roof, a pleased noise escaping her at the taste of it, the festive spirit further consuming her as the taste brings back many memories of past Christmases, a nostalgic look taking over her face momentarily.
"I thought you were trying to convince me to like Christmas," you joke as you lean back against the sofa, eyes trained on her as she raises her brow at your relaxed manner, continuing to eat her piece of gingerbread.
"I am, is it working?" She asks, smiling at you hopefully, her enthralling green solely focused on you making it hard to think straight and come up with your usual sarcastic remark. You pause for a moment, Wanda's head tilting in curiosity as you remain silent, a small blush forming on your cheeks as you gather yourself together.
"It would be if I got to eat all the gingerbread," you tease eventually, switching your gaze to something other than her alluring beauty, eyes landing on the various sweets stuck on the white icing.
"Is it actually working though?" She asks again, voice holding a more serious and intrigued tone compared to her joking tone, her green containing a hint of nerves as she really hoped it was.
Your mouth opens and closes to respond, unsure of what to say. If you were being honest, you didn't love the festive season any more, you simply enjoyed the last three days because you were with her.
"It hasn't changed my opinion on Christmas," you say softly, her face dropping a little making you continue, "But, I have had so much fun over the last few days, I... I've really enjoyed spending time with you," you fix her mood instantly, a blush taking over her face this time, her gaze flickering away from you, teeth biting down softly on her lower lip to try and contain her smile.
"Yeah?" she murmurs out a little timidly, gathering the courage to meet your softening gaze once more, the two of you smiling at each other, unaware of the swirling emotions in both of you. "Well still I've got four more days to fix that," she says, tone determined and adamant that she would persuade you, your smile growing that little bit wider at her confidence, part of you hoping she was right just to see that smile on her face.
***
"I'm not so sure about this Wanda," your voice a little shaky as your fingers grip the edge of the wall as tightly as possible, the ice skates you were wearing sliding on the ice in a manner than unnerved you, your eyes lifting to find Wanda only to see her skating off skilfully, turning back to you with a teasing look.
"Come on, I promise it's fun," she calls back, swarms of people brushing past you, further adding to your nerves as you hated how unstable you felt, her green eyes meeting yours through the crowd, sensing how uncomfortable you felt.
You watched a little embarrassed as she effortlessly skated over to you, the sound of screaming children nearby and the scratching of ice being blocked out as she comes closer to you, a different kind of anxiety flowing through you at her little smirk.
"Is the infamous Y/n, world hero and Avenger, scared of ice skating?" she teases softly, your eyes rolling at her comment. Just because you were an Avenger didn't mean you enjoyed activities like this.
"No..." you trailed off, your foot slipping slightly, Wanda watching how your body immediately tensed, knuckles bleeding white at your grip on the edge of the wall, her hand moving to your lower back to keep you stable, wanting to make sure you were alright. "Maybe just a little," you confess quietly, hoping she wouldn't find it a problem, her smile turning a little sympathetic. "It's scary ok? Steve got stuck in ice for like seventy plus years in it so it must be very dangerous," you explain, a genuine laugh slipping past her lips at your reasoning.
"It was only sixty six years," she corrects, your head shaking a little at her words, your mind processing where her hand was, a wave of butterflies taking over your body as your fingers adjust their grip on the cold edge.
"Do you trust me?" Her voice a gentle whisper, your mind focussing on her, only her as she looks at you as if you were the only thing going on in the ice rink, your head nodding as you couldn't muster any words to leave your mouth, far too nervous to not embarrass yourself any further.
Her hands gently clasp yours, her fingers intimately interlocking with yours, her soft gaze meeting your hesitant one, her feet guiding her backwards as she slides across the ice, pulling you carefully with her.
"Bend your knees a little," she instructs, trying to guide you into the best position so you wouldn't fall. You try to listen to her but the feeling of her impossibly soft hands in yours makes all common sense leave your mind, your body just about listening to her instructions. "Don't lean too far forwards if you don't want to fall," she playfully whispers, keeping you close to her as she can tell it's keeping you calm, her intoxicating perfume reaching your senses and further drowning you in the thought of her. "That's it," she praises softly, a small smile reaching your lips as you skate slightly on your own, still tightly gripping onto her, not that she minded.
The two of you did a few laps around the ring, your grip on her gradually decreasing as your confidence grew, the two of you stopping by a wall to relax for a moment, your cheeks and noses tinted pink from the cold room, smiles engraved on both of your faces.
Your smile widens when you see a child fall over, a snicker leaving your lips as you can't help it, Wanda playfully pushing you at your reaction, reprimanding your behaviour as the mother briefly looks over towards you two in annoyance, her child's face pulling into distress. Panic flashes across your face as you slip a little, your arm shooting out to wrap around hers, pulling yourself into her body, flush against her, making both of your blushes darken a little, her arm wrapping around you to keep you upright.
"Don't," you mumble when you feel her laugh against you, your body melting against hers as she keeps you stable and secure, her body also helping you keep warm.
"Don't what? Tease you?" She chuckles out, your head turning to meet her amused and mischievous gaze, breath hitching a little as you underestimated the space between you, your lips mere inches away from hers, both of your gazes drifting down to one another's mouths.
The heat that washes over you when her slightly darkened green meet yours causes you to straighten your back, pulling yourself further away from her face, your hand hesitantly reaching further down her arm to her fingers, interlocking them once again to try and keep your thoughts on anything but the longing to feel her lips on yours, a brief moment of courage washing through you when she doesn't pull back.
"I won't tease you," she whispers out once she's gotten control over her pounding heart, her cheeks still tinted pink as she smiles at your hand holding hers, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand, grateful for you being braver than her and initiating something. "But that doesn't mean I won't tell Nat," a soft laugh leaves you as you meet her eyes once more, sensing the mirth in them as she imagined the various ways the Russian would torment you.
"I'm never going to hear the end of it," you mumble, her nose scrunching at your tone, the action making you think it was worth any amount of teasing comments that Natasha could throw at you, the warmth that wrapped around your heart at her expression worth anything in the world as she drags you away from the wall again, skating with you, hand in hand.
***
A relentless pounding at your door has you reluctantly rolling out of bed, in dire need of a nap after the new workout Natasha wanted to try with you, your body ready to sink into your soft mattress and relax for just a little bit.
"You better have some more gingerbread," you mutter as you hear Wanda call your name through the door, your hand turning your door handle and opening, revealing the woman who consumed all your thoughts. "What-" A thick winter coat was thrown at you, your body not expecting the item making you take a step back, your eyes widening at Wanda in confusion as you properly took a hold of the clothing item, the coat a contrast to your oversized shirt and joggers.
"Do you wanna build a snowman?" she sings in a teasing voice, a groan leaving your lips at the movie reference, a tired sigh leaving your lips.
"I just wanna sleep," you whine out as she simply walks into your room as you turn away, smiling at the way you still comply to her question, searching through your wardrobe for a thick jumper and pants, not wanting to freeze in the cold as snowflakes gracefully spilled from the sky, the grass surrounding the compound drowning in the white blanket of snow.
"You can sleep later," her tone amused at the way you shake your head at her, amazed at the way she has you wrapped around her finger as you shrug on the coat she tossed you, turning your head and sending a pointed look.
"This better be worth it," you mumble, her body coming closer to yours and fixing your hood as it was sticking out weird, her cold fingers brushing the back of your neck causing you to wake up a little more.
"Spending time with me is always worth it," she whispers, recalling how you confessed to her how you enjoyed being with her, a smile creeping onto your lips as you chuckle at her words, her eyes peering up into yours as you let her fix your outfit, unable to stop the warmth bubbling inside you.
"That is true," you murmur ever so softly, her smile widening as she lets her hands drift to your shoulders to smooth the coat out, growing in confidence near you after being together for the last four days constantly. "But sleep is pretty amazing too," you mumble, earning her signature nose scrunch, your heart beating that little bit faster at the enamoured look in her eyes.
"Come on," she sighs out, walking behind you and pushing you towards the door, struggling a little as you use your strength to keep you planted.
"Save me bed! She's trying to kidnap me," you call out dramatically, chuckling as she uses her magic to push you out of the door, you calling out of your bed once more, earning another string of laughter from her as she leads you out of the compound, walking side by side with you, letting your bodies brush.
A chill takes over your body as you trudge your way through the snow that's piling up, the sound of satisfying crunches and nearby birds filling the air as you let Wanda lead you to the best place to build her desired snowman. You watch with an affectionate gaze at her thick gloves and the scarf that's wrapped so tightly around her neck, the bobble hat that she stole from you moving with each step she takes, her head looking her shoulder at you, her smile almost reaching her ears.
You follow her until she stops, deciding this was the best location to build it, her eyes looking back at the compound and ensuring you'd be able to see it from the large window in the common room, unaware of the redhead and archer sitting peacefully together, curious as to what you two were doing, a glint of realisation flickering across Natasha's face.
Unable to stop yourself, you give into the temptation of crouching down in the snow, grabbing a handful of it and moulding it into the shape of a large snowball, trying to perfect the shape to make it easier to throw.
"Hey Wanda?" You call out innocently, lining up your shot as you wait for her to turn around, her eyes glimmering with joy before widening, unable to move out of the way as the snow crashes against her body, exploding into various fragments of white dust, a gasp leaving her lips.
You can't help but laugh wholeheartedly at her reaction, an uncontrollable laughter escaping you as happiness consumes you entirely, shock present on her face to begin with before revenge takes over, taking advantage of your distracted state and grabbing a handful of snow, ready to throw it back at you.
Your laughter is interrupted when she headshots you with the snowball, disbelief evident on your face as her smile grows smug, a dangerous chuckle leaving you making her smile slowly fade, mischief evident on your face. At your expression, Wanda starts to run, laughter spilling from her lips as she gets a head start, your legs swiftly moving to catch up with her.
"Oh no you don't," you call out, your smile engraved on your face as you chase after, using your abilities to help you catch up to her. You can't stop the genuine laughter that escapes you as you dodge the snowballs her magic throws at you blindly, your body gradually catching up to her, inching closer as the two of you trample through the snow like idiots, not caring about anything else in the world but one another. Eventually, your arm wraps around her middle, pulling her closer to your body as you grab a load of snow with your other hand, intending on dropping it on her head, your plan not working as you both go tumbling in the snow, laughter still sounding around the two of you. "Gotcha," you chuckle out as you land on top of her, her hands holding onto your shoulders as your body is flush against hers, your hand cupping the back of her head protectively and the other bracing your body above hers.
Her breath gently fans across your face as you both pant a little from the sudden running, your eyes getting lost in hers as she smiles up at you angelically, your gaze eventually drifting across her features, still stunned by her beauty. Your gaze settles on her lips, watching how she subtly wets her lower lip before her teeth gently bite down on it, your eyes flickering up to her softening green, building up to ask her the question you've wanted to for ages.
"Can.... Can I kiss you?" your voice a barely audible whisper, the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage deafening in your ears as you await a response, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering vigorously.
"Took you long enough to ask," she murmurs playfully, having heard your thoughts about her eyes all those days ago, piecing together that you may have felt the same way about her as she did towards you.
Her fingers fisted against the hem of your coat and pulled you down into her body, claiming your lips in the way you both longed for. You kissed her tenderly, her lips pressing over yours just as affectionately, the cold tip of her nose brushing against yours as you got lost in the moment together. Your eyes fluttered shut to savour the feeling of her mouth, how gentle and soft it was as you weren't guaranteed another chance, another kiss, so you forced your racing thoughts to stop for a moment as your lips moved against hers lovingly, wanting to engrave the feeling into your mind forever. The kiss was shy and timid, your lips remaining together for mere seconds, but the intimacy of it made your head spin with the thought of her. The thought of her body pressed against yours, her mouth pressed against yours, forehead leaning against yours and arms pulling you impossibly closer, it was all too much. You were utterly mesmerised by her. Everything just felt so pure, sogenuine, so... intimate that it made you sigh gently into her mouth, pulling back with nothing but love evident in your eyes as she matched your tender gaze, just as obsessed with you as you were her.
"I told you this would be worth it," she whispers against you, her lips gently brushing yours, enticing you into gently claiming hers once more, smiling into her mouth.
"It really was," you murmur lovingly against her, her head hiding against your shoulder as she can't stop the wide smile appearing on her face, her nose scrunching up once more as you melt against her body, joy coursing through you at what just happened.
She kissed you.
You actually just kissed her.
A wave of giddiness overtook you as you grinned at her when she pulled back from your body, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes as her hands left your body, your mind paying no attention to it as she looked at you in that adoring manner, consuming your thoughts.
What you didn't expect was to feel snow hitting the back of your head, an adorable laugh leaving her at her playful actions, disbelief evident on your face. The feeling of betrayal immediately left you at the heavenly noise that spills delicately from her, your head shaking to remove the snow in your hair as she cups your cheek, guiding you back down for an apologetic kiss, the two of you unable to stop smiling.
Another individual who couldn't stop smiling was Natasha who watched the scene unfold through the window with Clint, glad that you finally acted on your crush and helped her win the bet with the archer. He grumbled as he reached for his wallet, searching for the desired note as a sigh of relief left the redhead when you started to walk hand in hand through the snow, finding somewhere else to finally build the snowman.
***
Humming to yourself, you found yourself in Wanda's room again, this time sprawled out of her bed, waiting for the witch to return with the snacks for the movie night she planned for you. It was going to be a Christmas marathon, starting with Home Alone one and two, then onto the Grinch so Wanda could tease you about your 'icon' and then finally Elf as she was sure you'd be asleep by then, having discovered how much you loved to lay in bed yesterday when you fell asleep during the first attempt at the marathon, much to her amusement. This time, however, she planned to keep you awake with food and potentially a cuddle as the two of you swiftly discovered how much you both craved physical touch, even if it was something small like holding hands, a smile growing on her lips as she enters the room, remembering the various instances of you subtly reaching for her hand and interlocking your fingers.
A soft chuckle leaves her lips at the way your head raises off the bed at the sound of the door shutting, your eyes growing curious when you see the bowl in her hands, instantly perking up and eager to know what she brought. When your eyes saw the popcorn in the bowl, your smile widened, moving around on her bed so that your back was against the pillow at the headboard, arm raising to welcome her body against your side, the other woman complying to your silent request.
The feeling of her body snuggling against yours caused a grin to break out on your face, your heart unable to comprehend the sheer joy you felt over the last few days, grateful for her making such an impact on your life.
"You're incredible," you murmur softly when she places the bowl into your lap, your lips pressing to her temple, the art of being affectionate with one another natural to you both.
"Are you only saying that because I brought food?" she teases, carefully picking up a piece of the sweet and salty treat and placing it into her mouth, her head tilting to rest against your shoulder as she uses her magic to bring the remote closer to you both, her hand effortlessly grabbing it and starting the first film of the night.
"No, I'm saying that because you are the most amazing and beautiful woman I know," you whisper against her hair, earning a blush at your charming words. "Who just happens to always bring me food," you add teasingly, earning a playful pinch to your side, a small yelp leaving you.
"Shhh, just watch the film Detka," she murmurs, your smile widening at the endearment, not commenting on it as she shuffles her body closer to you, her fingers playing with whatever part of your shirt she can reach as the two of you delve into the world of Christmas cinema, content with being one another.
As the film plays on, without even realising it, your hand rests on her thigh, tracing idle patterns against the thin fabric of her pyjama pants, Wanda's cheeks a similar colour to her festive clothing as her thoughts go down a sinful route. She can't help the warmth that pools between her thighs at your actions, your hand high up on her thigh as your toned body presses into her, her mind replaying the image of you working out earlier, the way your body effortlessly showed signs of strength and stamina, her eyes having a hard time from tearing away from your hands, watching as your veins showed slightly, further adding to the arousal that started to build within her as she got lost in thought.
Hesitantly, she tilted her head to rest at the crook of your neck, her lips softly pressing a kiss there as she knew you weren't paying attention to the film, your thoughts growing louder as you replay all your memories with the brunette, the overwhelming amount of happiness and love you felt allowing the witch to hear them. To try and gain your attention, she pressed another kiss to your neck, your breath hitching at the action as your hand freezes at her thigh, her lips burning against your skin as your body grows warmer at her suggestive move.
"Detka," she sighs out, her breath fanning across your skin as she pulls back from your neck, her green eyes meeting yours, desire but also nervousness shimmering them.
"Yes?" you whisper out, gaze subconsciously drifting to her lips, remembering how addictive they are, your own eyes darkening as your gaze lingers, unable to look at anything else.
"I don't think either of us are watching the film," her voice is barely audible as she murmurs the words, tilting her head slightly, the action causing her lips to inch closer to yours, the movement subtly seductive as you wait for her to make the move, sensing a bit of indecision from her.
"I don't think we are," your tone lowering a little, patiently waiting for her, not wanting her to do anything she'd regret.
"I wonder what else we could possibly do..." she trails off, smiling a little shyly, biting down on her lower lip and fuck, you don't think you've ever felt so hot before, the sight of her intoxicating, making it impossible to think straight.
"I have no idea," you whisper back with a small smirk, tilting your head down so that your lips were brushing over hers gently, not applying enough pressure to give her what she wanted, your eyes watching how hers flutter shut, awaiting your mouth. "What do you suggest?"
"I think... I think we should kiss," she rasps out, moving her body so that she was facing you properly, your brow raising a little at her words as your smile grows, fingers moving to brush back a few stray strands of her hair back, eventually letting your hand rest on her cheek, cupping her jaw and bringing her a little closer.
Your eyes flicker over all of her features, admiring them all while waiting for her to lower her face, the brunette only doing so marginally, mirroring your actions and wanting to memorise every inch of your beauty.
It feels like you're waiting an eternity until she lowers her face even more, her lips barely putting any pressure on yours as they briefly brush over them. Your eyes flutter close when you feel her hands cup your jaw, waiting for her to kiss you, to crash her lips to yours, to do anything at this point as you just wait, wait and wait.
When she feels like she's admired you enough and savoured the moment, she kisses you. She kisses you softly and tentatively to begin with as you explore each other's mouths, her actions soon growing a little more confident as the kiss grows hungrier, Wanda seemingly starved of you. It's intimate, it's desperate, it's passionate. It's everything you dreamed it to be.
You can't do anything but give into her relentless mouth, hand clutching at her sweater to ground yourself as all you can think of is her lips moving against yours, her body pressed up against yours, her soft fingers threading through your hair, just her.
A soft moan leaves her when you guide her to straddle your lap, heat immediately taking over her body, your touch burning into her skin as arousal pools between her legs at the feeling of your body pressed against hers, strong arms wrapping around her, a sensual sigh escaping you as when she pulls back from the kiss, eyes darkening with desire as you peer up into the green, a shameless smile on your lips.
"I think we should do that again," you tease, leaning in for another kiss as she smiles against you, her confidence growing with every kiss, every peck in between laboured breaths as her hands move to your shoulders momentarily, gliding them down your back in a seductive way, a groan leaving you at the way her fingers press into the toned muscle satisfyingly.
Experimentally, you slide your tongue into her mouth, a sinful moan escaping her as she welcomes your advances, your hands toying with the hem of her jumper, not sure how far she wanted to go as your mouths move lewdly together, her back arching a little to press her body further against yours.
"Am I going too fast?" Your voice a gentle whisper as you pull back from the kiss, sensing a little bit of nerves from her, eyes gauging her reaction as your fingers had slipped beneath her clothing, feeling the warmth and softness of her bare skin, her cheeks flushing a deep red as she meets your enamoured gaze, not wanting to pressure her.
"No I just-" she cuts herself off, feeling a little embarrassed as your hands slide out of her jumper, snaking around her waist and pulling her closer to rest against your body, bringing her in for a soft embrace that she appreciates. "I never done this before," she confesses, a soft smile appearing on your lips as you guide her head back so you can meet her timid green, "I want to but I just... don't know what I'm doing."
"Do you trust me?" you ask, mimicking her words from the ice skating, your fingers raising to brush back another stray strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear affectionately as she nods. "I'll take care of you, I promise," you whisper, kissing her lips with nothing but love, conveying how gentle you'd be with her. "We can stop at any time," you reassure her, not wanting her to think she's committed to having sex with you, "Just tell me to stop and we stop. I don't care what's happening, all I want is for you to feel safe and comfortable with me." She smiles shyly at your words, tilting her head to kiss you once again, grateful for how caring and considerate you were. "We'll go at your pace, ok?"
"Ok," she murmurs back, smiling into another tender kiss as you do as you said, letting her control the way her lips move against yours, slowly building the hunger back up.
"Tell me what you want," you sigh out against her lips, feeling her hips subtly rock against your lap without her even realising it, your teeth softly nipping at her lower lip, earning a small moan as she flutters her eyes back open, meeting your patient gaze.
"I want...I just want you," she whispers, holding the intimate gaze before leaning back in, kissing you with a new sense of urgency, a small moan leaving you at her words. Your lips pull into a small smile as she slides her tongue hesitantly into your mouth, the kiss turning messy and causing a wave of arousal to flood through, Wanda's mind spinning at the intoxicating way you make her feel.
"You have me," your tone laced with love as she rests her forehead against yours, lips lingering open against one another, simply relishing in the intimacy. "Show me what you want from me," you encourage, sliding your hands from around her lower back to hers, letting her take a hold of your hands to guide them where she wants them, your lips parting from hers to pepper kisses along her jaw softly, her head lolling to the side to welcome your addictive touch.
She simply holds your hands for a moment, deciding what she wants from you, her mind freezing momentarily at the way your teeth scrape against her sensitive skin, a pleasant shiver running down her back as she curses lowly in Sokovian, the sultry sound causing a throb between your thighs.
When she's ready, she squeezes your hands softly, guiding them down her body to the hem of her sweater, hoping you understand her silent request. Your fingers slide under tentatively, feeling the way her stomach tenses and relaxes at your touch, the skin impossibly soft and enticing, your mind reminding you to wait for her as you caress the skin you can reach.
"Please," she murmurs out, one of her hands moving to your hair, threading her fingers through your silky locks and softly pulling you away from her neck, her lips pressing to yours with a hint of desperation as she grinds her hips with a little more purpose now, a wave of pleasure coursing through her.
"Off?" you mutter against her lips questioningly, her nodding into a sensual kiss as your lips meet gently, her sighing into your mouth as your hands grip the hem of her sweater, slowly, teasingly, pulling it off her body.
Her hands move off you to help you pull the item of clothing off, your gaze remaining on her face as she turns shy again, waiting for another nod before letting your gaze drift down her body, your breath hitching at her sheer beauty.
Her body is sculpted to perfection, crafted by Aphrodite herself to create the most beautiful woman you'd ever lay your eyes on, her delicate and smooth skin enticing your eyes all over her exposed body, her curves luring your hands to caress them softly, eyes flickering back up to hers, nothing but admiration and love in them.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" you whisper into a passionate kiss, her nerves immediately dissipating at the sheer honesty lacing your tone, another blush creeping onto her face at how amazed you were by her. "Any idea what you do to me?" you continue, wrapping your arms around her body and pulling her closer to hers, her bra covered chest flush against your body as she moans into your mouth, her body begging for more, needing you to touch her lower.
"Please Y/n," she sighs into your mouth, your hands creeping up her body and resting just under her bra, fingers brushing over the skin, causing goosebumps to rise. "I need you," her tone conveying how desperate she was, your worshipping touch only driving her towards madness, her body viewing them as teasing.
"Where do you need me, love?" the endearment spilling from your lips naturally, a wave of arousal flowing through her at your slightly husky voice, your lips parting from hers once more to kiss down her neck, sucking partly before moving to kiss her shoulder and collarbones, waiting for an answer.
"Here," she sighs out softly, her fingers wrapping around one of your wrists and guiding it down to meet the waistband of her pyjama pants, your head instantly leaving her body to look at her properly, the green in her eyes usually filled with love completely replaced by desire and hunger.
"Are you sure?" Your voice is full of care as your hand remains where she guided you, gazing into hers as your heart beats wildly in your chest, still stunned a little by the sight of her on top of you, the heat between your thighs incessant.
"Yes," her voice a mere whisper as she kisses you softly, deciding she wouldn't want anyone else to be her first, always having loved you without even realising it.
"Remember we can stop whenever you need to," you murmur before claiming her lips with a newfound purpose, wanting to give her everything she wants, fingers carefully sliding under her waistband.
"Fuck," she whispers out, voice a little shaky as her hands move to your back once again, clutching onto your t-shirt as your fingers brush against her core through her soaked panties, a groan leaving you at how wet she was for you. She was this desperate for you.
You move the pad of your finger against the wet fabric, teasingly sliding it up and down her core, earning a small, desperate moan from her into your mouth, her teeth biting down on your lower lip impatiently as you continue to work her body up, her hips bucking against your hand at the slightest of touches.
"Can I-"
"Please," she practically whimpers out, your lips tugging up into a smirk whilst your free hand glides up and down her back soothingly, your fingers slowly sliding under the waistband of her panties, a sensual sigh escaping her when you finally make contact with her core. "Detka," she pants out against your lips as you swallow the desperate noises that leave her lips as your finger swipes through the abundance of arousal that's pooled between her thighs, coating your digit as you explore her wet sex.
Pulling back from the kiss, your eyes observe every single reaction to your touch she offered you, drinking it up like an intoxicating substance as your finger spreads her slick around her, moving to circle her clit gently to begin with, slowly building in confidence as your touch grows firmer, intending to bring her as much as possible.
"You're so pretty like this," you mumble, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, teeth scraping the soft skin again to drive her mad, your finger sliding up and down her soaking folds before settling on teasing her entrance, a whine leaving her at your enamoured tone and taunting actions.
"Detka," she sighs out, tone conveying the sheer desperation she feels for you, needing you to bring her towards her release, her body needing your touch to satisfy her.
"Shhh, I'll take care of you," you murmur, tilting your head away from her neck to let your lips brush against her compelling ones, her breath fanning across your face as her lips part, your finger slowly sliding into her, your eyes in awe of her blissed out expression. "Tell me what feels good," you encourage, slowly curling your finger inside her beautifully, a moan spilling from her lips directly into your mouth as you claim her lips softly, slowly letting your lips slot over hers, her mind hazy with all the pleasure and heat flowing through her.
"Shit, there, right there," she groans as you curl your finger against her weak spot, the palm of your hand brushing against her clit as she rocks her hips against you, fingers gripping your shirt tightly.
"Yeah?" you husk out and the slight cockiness to your tone has her mind spinning even more with arousal, delirium taking over her as she moans against you once more, your name falling from her lips like a small chant as you thrust your finger in her a little faster, pleasure bubbling through her. "What if I do this?" your voice a teasing whisper, your thumb moving to brush over her clit, a choked moan escaping her as you move it in languid circles, doubling the pleasure fogging her mind.
"Y/n," she pants against you, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smirk at her desperate tone, the way her walls clench and spasm around you, her thighs tensing around your body as her hips buck harder when you time your movements right, a sudden wave of pleasure flowing through her. "Fuck," she sighs out sensually, parting your mouths as she's struggling to reciprocate the kiss, too busy focussing on the way you effortlessly slide in another finger, stretching her out perfectly.
"You're doing so well for me," you whisper, mouth moving to the shell of her ear and tone dropping, a slight rasp added to your voice further arouse her. One of her hands shoot up into your hair, messily tangling it into your locks as moans escape her, her hips trying to move a little faster and push her towards her nearing release, fingers gripping tightly making a dull pain wash over you, the action making you groan as the idea of how lost in pleasure she must be goes straight between your thighs.
"Detka," she sighs out, desperation and a hint of embarrassment lacing her tone, too nervous to ask you for what she wants as her hips indicate how close she is, your fingers still steadily thrusting into her and thumb occasionally brushing her clit, hips bucking harder against you. You immediately understand what she's asking for as she gently tugs your head back, lips pressing against yours passionately as she holds you close, back arching further into your body as she sighs into your mouth, a small whine escaping her as she teeters on the edge of her release.
"I've got you," you murmur gently, your free hand moving up her body and to her face, cupping her cheek intimately and deepening the kiss, a moan leaving her at the sheer amount of love you pour into the embrace. "Let go for me," you mumble between kisses, her eyes squeezed shut as pleasure threatens to take over her.
"Y/n," she whispers out sinfully for a final time, body tensing against yours while your mouths refuse to part, muffling the desperate sounds leaving her lips while pleasure wracks through her body. Her legs tense around your body once more, her hands adamant on keeping you close as she keeps your head against hers, foreheads resting against one another as you slow the kisses down, pecking her lips in between laboured breaths. Your fingers slowed inside her, letting her walls clench and spasm around you as she rode out the last waves of her release, her body eventually relaxing in your lap and melting against your comforting body.
Your gentle breath caressed her lips as she eventually opened your eyes, timidly smiling at you and claiming your lips once more in an innocent manner, her adorable expression causing you to reciprocate the action as your free hand moves to glide up and down her back soothingly, fingers pulling out of her when she was ready.
"I'm so proud of you," you whisper with nothing but honesty and care in your words, her cheeks blushing at the way you tenderly gaze at her, her fingers moving to fix your ruffled hair. She smiles at you softly as she tucks a few strands behind your ear, your lips meeting her cheek lovingly as she just wants to bask in the intimate moment for a little longer, the two of you simply locked in a lovers embrace as your arm snakes around her middle.
Many soft words and gentle whispers later, you had managed to convince her into going to the bathroom to get cleaned up, not wanting her to be uncomfortable later and also wash your hands quickly, the brunette blushing at the cocky smirk on your lips as she watches you, proud of yourself for being able to make her feel good and most importantly loved and safe. You let her find herself a new pair of underwear and some new pyjama pants, opting for the pair she first came to you in before searching for a new shirt to wear.
Once she had opted for an old shirt with her favourite sitcom on it, you offered her your hoodie you took off earlier, the jumper being an oversized fit which you knew she loved, Wanda taking it with a wide smile, unable to stop the butterflies in her stomach at how caring you were. She let her nose rest against the collar of it, able to smell your perfume on it as you wrapped your arms around her waist from behind, dramatically falling onto the bed with her in your arms, eliciting an even bigger smile from her and a nose scrunch.
She turned around in your arms so she was facing you as you pulled her body impossibly closer, smiling fondly at the sight of her in your clothes, her leg sliding in between yours to find a more comfortable position to cuddle in as your fingers drew idle patterns against her back.
"Thank you for being so gentle," she whispers a little shyly, your gaze softening more somehow as she moves her fingers to play with the baby hairs at the back of your neck.
"I'll always be gentle with you," you murmur, kissing her temple and letting your lips linger for a minute, building the courage to say what you wanted to. "Thank you for the last week, I've really enjoyed spending time with you," you say, still trying to get to the three words you wanted to confess, her smile growing a little wider at your soft tone.
"Have I convinced you to love Christmas?" she asks curiously, the intimate gaze prolonged as you once again get lost in her eyes, smiling tenderly at her, thinking of how to phrase your words.
"I don't quite love Christmas yet," you whisper out, your words still giving her hope. "But, I...I know I love you," you confess, your heart beating wildly in your chest for the few seconds she doesn't reply, the way her nose scrunches once again in that adorable manner easing the worry of rejection.
"I love you too," she whispers back with fondness lacing her tone, her lips meeting yours once again for an intimate kiss as you can't help but grin into the kiss, a teasing comment finding its way to your lips.
"More than Christmas?" you whisper, earning a soft laugh from her as she moves her face to hide at the crook of your neck, your skin so warm and comfortable, lulling her into a relaxed state.
"More than Christmas," she chuckles out, wrapping her arms around your middle securely, your arms mirroring the action as your lips press a final kiss to the top of her head, the witch amazed at how you, a grinch, managed to steal her heart. 
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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 5 months ago
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Just a concept, Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Gn!reader X Platonic!Batfam, also wrote a one shot about this
Synopsis: Batman becomes obsessed with a spouse and kids that he never had.
Pairing: Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Reader; Batman X Reader; Platonic Batfam X Batparent!Reader; Yandere!Batman X Platonic!Batfam; Batman X Platonic!Batfam
Tw: English is not my first language; mentions of Alfred being dead; I'm quite new on the fandom so there might be some mistakes about facts of the original comics, but this is a fanfic so whatever; this piece is more focused on Bruce and the batfam while still mentioning reader; stalker and delusional Bruce.
Word count: 1,4k
Requested? No.
General masterlist
Yandere!Batman who is very VERY, extremely, lonely, touch starved and grim. He’s also very unlucky apparently.
He never even met Dick. Sure, he heard about what happened to The Flying Graysons, investigated it even, but he's only seem him on pictures, videos or in passing, but he wasn’t there that night, he never talked to him, or maybe he did while stopping him from killing Zuko, either way, never adopted him, our boy went straight to orphanage and was adopted shortly after by a normal and loving family.
Actually this universe’s Bruce never met nor connected with ANY of his children, all he had was Alfred, and yet… Something happened and…
Safe to say it's been long, never ending harsh years.
The only thing this Bruce knows is pain, loneliness and misery. Don’t talk to him about Alfred. Maybe he can't even look at pictures. When he realized he couldn’t remember his voice anymore… He WON’T watch videos or listen to audio of him. Yes, Alfred being gone was one more trauma to the list of traumas he will carry on his tense and burdened shoulders for the rest of his helpless existence.
This Bruce is a loser, closer to madness than any version of Bruce (aside from Batman who laughs). His Gotham is nearing it’s doom. He didn't join the Justice League because of his level of emotional masochism, pride and lack of will to get back on his feet. He is so used to suffering he thinks it's possible to die if he doesn't have such bitter companion. Safe to say, he is depressed. And hyperfocused on saving a city he’s been working in for decades, too blind by his grieving to see that he is not doing the right things. There is no social projects on Wayne Enterprises or Wayne Foundation to help people, he neglected the company decades ago. He is almost becoming Michael Keaton’s Batman in The Flash.
Somehow, one day he is sent to another universe. It can be through some disaster like Crisis in Infinite Earths, or some villain who wanted different variants of heros to fight amongst themselves to death, doesn't really matter here, what’s important is that he (after years of being a hermit on his cave) interacts with people, more specifically, he interacts with himself.
Or definitely a lucky version of himself. Maybe the luckiest. He is jealous.
During the whole event they interact and imagine how he felt when he found out that this other Batman has an Alfred. And he is so successful that he is a billionaire who uses his money to help Gotham get better (or as good as we know Gotham can get). Oh, and he has a spouse. And children. Plural. So many he lost count. And pets. Two dogs, one cat, a cow (?), a turkey (a what now?) and a fREAKING DRAGON BAT (WHAT THA FUCK IS EVEN THAT????!?!?????!).
He is also more put together (looks like he showers and doesn't skip meals). And less temperamental.
Okay…
Bruce is confused. When he comes back to his universe, with a spark of hope in his heart, he does his research. He could start actually making effort on his company and thus helping Gotham, maybe even be good enough as a vigilant that he could join the Justice League and make some friends (even if the other Bruce was just as stoic, he was the only one who could see on his micro expressions while talking about them how fond he was of his colleagues, and how much he thrusts them, even with his trust issues).
He could find those damn kids and adopt them. Find the one who somehow managed to make him open up enough for a relationship.
(He could also just work on his company, philanthropism, do some therapy, make some new organic connections or whatever).
He is VERY disappointed to find out that some of those so called kids and are already adults, have lived their whole lives without him, maybe some have been arrested or even dead, they have their whole lives and families that have NOTHING to do with him. Some don't even exist (the only explanation for not a single clue in months of research). And his partner, Reader, is either living their own life that doesn't allow space for him or also dead. He lost his timing. He is old and lost his timing. He is alone. He shouldn't have hoped so much that he got blind by the improbability of the small chance. The other Batman did mention that his family started growing decades ago.
He just lost another family. This one he never got to have. He wishes he never knew about them.
He hyperfocused on them for months for nothing (hey, It was hard to find info on the ones that don't live a very civilian legal life, like Cassandra, or the ones that never even existed, like Damian, or the ones that are dead — again maybe Cassandra, or perhaps Jason. Maybe Jason joined a gang just for survival or something like that, life on the streets is harsh, and he is not very lucky. And I’m not even being specific on what could have happened to every single one of the batfam. Also Tim is probably a CEO right now). No connection and family will come from all of that. Especially because he is greedy, starved, he doesn't want bits and pieces, he wants it ALL. He wants that other Bruce's life.
Yandere!Batman is born. He drowns and gets drunk on the pit of his own madness and he can’t get out of it. Doesn't want to.
He could… He could get rid of the people on their lives, brainwash them and make them a happy family. They aren’t vigilantes, they don't have his abilities, they don't have his intellect, it won't be hard.
Of course, Batman doesn't kill, but this Batman is looking for a change.
But they aren't what lucky-billionaire-put-together Bruce had.
Don't get me wrong. He is not just petty and jealous, nor resents Bruce for his privileges and better decisions, or whatever.
Okay, maybe a little. Why? Just why ones life was perfect (hello? Didn't you hear the part where he told you his own problems? Not even about the DEAD RESURRECTED CRIME LORD SON?) while the others had to draw the short stick?
But majorly he is just desperate, foaming at the mouth for a happy ending, and projected all of that on that poor random bat.
Now, enough brooding, back to solutions.
He could clone them.
Could work. Not exactly easy but he could just hack onto Luthor archives until he found how he cloned Superman and made that Superboy, Superman, or whatever he goes by now.
Again, not the same as the original ones. The ones he craves. The ones he wants.
Alfred is screaming in his grave about how Bruce, please, needs to realize that no one will fill the expectations he puts on them, not even the “original ones”.
Another hard, but better fitted solution is to… Simply… Find a way to go to that other universe, or one similar enough, stalk and study their whole lives until he can perfectly replicate “lucky” Bruce’s persona, and just… Get rid of him and take his place. Hello Alfred, hello honey, hello kids, daddy’s home.
Looks like he finally got luck on his side, maybe the sun will rise tomorrow.
Yandere!Bruce won't just brush aside that he is rusty and definitely not a better Batman then the other one, but he's got time. He will developt patience. But can he learn enough to trick his perfect vigilant kids though? Is he seriously thinking straight? I mean, the batkids are dope though. They learned from the best. As a proud (wannabe) father he knows they will be better than him one day, perhaps already are.
How much of watching their lives, everything that he craves, can he take until he snaps? How much of watching Bruce's interactions with them can he take? He swears he won't take them for granted when he has them, he will take care of them, protect them, be a family, be happy.
Can he really keep his distance?
Looks like another supervillain just arrived in Gotham for the batfamily to battle against, he is quite persistent though.
Like, comment and reblog 🥰
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marichive · 1 year ago
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100 INDULGENT TROPES
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A collection of one hundred tropes of varying nature. Spiritual successor to my previous An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme. Some of these pair well together and can easily be sent in various combinations. Some are also highly suggestive in nature. Engage appropriately.
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one muse steps protectively in front of the other
one muse tends to the other’s injury
one muse is not acting like themselves and the other has to snap them out of it
one muse kisses the other during an argument
one muse pins the other to a wall
one muse kisses the other on their hand or wrist
one muse kisses the other on their neck or shoulder
one muse helps the other put on a necklace or tie
our muses aren’t supposed to be together but keep meeting anyway (on purpose or by accident)
our muses have a secret relationship
one muse takes a blow meant for the the other
one muse fights away enemies attacking the the other
one muse asks the other for their favor / a token before battle or a tourney
our muses share a night together believing it might be their last
our muses are in an arranged marriage / betrothal
our muses willingly marry for political reasons
our muses get married for love
our muses get married in a spur-of-the-moment decision
one muse has taken the other captive
our muses are in love but one thinks they aren’t good enough for the other
our muses are forced to ally for a common goal
our muses are enemies or former enemies but have started to fall for each other
our muses claim to hate each other but there is palpable tension between the two
our muses are trying to manipulate each other
one muse is trying to manipulate the other
our muses have feelings for each other but have conflicting loyalties
our muses are friends but have started to fall for each other
our muses are childhood friends that have been slowly falling for each other over the years
one muse has been in love with the other for a long time but is afraid their feelings are not reciprocated
one muse is in love with the other but they are in a relationship with or engaged to another person
our muses engage in a courtly romance
one muse is a knight in service to the the other’s family
one muse seeks comfort from a loveless marriage with the other, their lover
one muse traces the other’s scars
one muse kisses the other in a moment of heightened emotion
one muse confides in the other in a vulnerable moment
our muses are in love but circumstances prevent them from being together
our muses are exes who discover lingering feelings after reuniting
one muse confesses love to another after that person is injured
one muse confesses love to another because they believe they may die soon
our muses must share a bed
one muse lifts the other’s chin to look them in the eye
one muse places a hand at the back of the other’s neck to pull them extremely close
our muses have been hooking up, no strings attached
our muses have been hooking up, but one or both has developed deeper feelings
our muses are exes that hook up against their better judgement
one muse presumes the other is dead but is shocked when they show up alive again
one muse betrays their long held loyalties in order to save the other’s life from their own allies
our muses fake a relationship but have no actual interest in each other
our muses fake a relationship but start to genuinely fall for each other
one muse is known for their hard exterior and softens only in the other’s presence
one muse is the other’s weakness, something an enemy is trying to exploit
our muses are stuck somewhere together and must occupy their time
one muse has feelings for the other but has not acted on them due to their association with another character (a sibling / relative / ex / etc. ) or an organization
one muse is scared to act on feelings for the other due to poor experiences with love in the past
one muse is oblivious to the other’s feelings for them
one muse acts oblivious to the other’s feelings for them but really they are aware
one muse has unrequited feelings for the other
our muses are co-workers engaging in a hidden romance
one muse reveals one of their darkest secrets to the other
one muse comforts the other during an emotional breakdown
one muse calms the other from an intense rage
one muse’s family forbids them from seeing the other
our muses are in love but their friends / family do not support their relationship
one muse seeks redemption for past actions and comes to the other to atone
our muses regularly exchange letters
our muses move in together
our muses adopt a pet together
our muses have a child together
our muses adopt a child together
one muse discovers they are pregnant by accident
our muses have been set up by mutual friends
our muses have been set up by a matchmaker
our muses are in love with each other but are in denial
one muse is the other’s bodyguard / protector
one muse is royalty while the other is a commoner / rogue / societal outcast
one muse kisses the other for a bet
one muse relentlessly flirts with the other
our muses kiss for the first time ever
one muse wins a date with the other at an event
our muses dance together for the first time
one muse brushes their fingers through the other’s hair
one muse drunkenly confesses something to the other
our muses drunkenly hook up and wake up next to each other
our muses are roommates
our muses are partners in crime
one muse is a supernatural creature who falls for the other, who is a mortal
our muses are supernatural creatures from opposite clans or species that are historically hostile to each other
one muses is under a spell / in the middle of a monstrous transformation but somehow recognizes the other and refrains from harming them
our muses cuddle for warmth
our muses run away together
one muse wears piece of clothing or jewelry that belongs to the other
our muses bathe together
our muses cook together
our muses cuddle in bed
one muse serenades the other
one muse holds a weapon to the other as a threat
one muse physically lifts the other up
one muse protectively wraps an arm around the other
meet cute !
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago
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hi!! could you maybe write for being the younger sibling of dipper and mabel? maybe the reader is like, 9/10 y.o i wonder what they're sibling relationships would be as well as they're relationship with stan and ford
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They say a bond between twins is a bond unlike any other, but didn’t mean that dipper or Mabel cared about you any less then they did each other, you were their baby sibling and they were always going to have your back no matter what.
Dipper would be the protective older brother who’s sometimes come across as strict and would often forbid you from joining him and Mabel on monster hunts, stating that you were too young to be doing something as dangerous as hunting monsters.
You’d naturally respond with the fact that technically he and Mabel were also too young to be going head on into monster hunting too, so thereby making the statement redundant and him look like a hypocrite. To which Dipper would agree with you on but still would tell you it was too dangerous for you, he only wants to keep you safe but you had too much of a stubborn spirit to be easily swayed into staying put.
Mabel on the other hand was the chill sibling who’d let you join in the monster hunting any day because she didn’t want you feeling left out. After all it was kinda a family thing to hunt the unknown of gravity falls at this point, so she didn’t see why you shouldn’t come along with her and Dipper because as long as you had the journal with you, you were fine.
You tend to argue with dipper more than Mabel but that’s because dipper tended to take himself too seriously as your older brother while Mabel doesn’t take herself seriously enough. So whenever you and dipper did argue, Mabel tended to be the peace keeper between the two of you or use Waddles as a distraction from your arguing to come together.
Despite all this you, Dipper and Mabel were loyal and faithful to one another that there wasn’t anything any of you wouldn’t do for the other.
Dipper would give up everything to keep you and Mabel safe as he knew you and her would do the same and you did on multiple occasions, saving each other’s lives and so on. You all headed into the unknown together, never once thinking of leaving the other behind because if one of you were to go down, the other two would rush to your side and pick you back up.
You helped dipper decode stuff and listen to him drone on about Wendy from time to time while playing dungeons, dungeons and emore dungeons with him and Grunkle Ford.
You’d help Mabel bedazzle everything in sight and spend time with her, Candy and Grenda on the odd occasion of doing karaoke with her and grunkle Stan whenever the occasion calls for a bit of fun.
You were best friends with Dipper and Mabel as much as you were siblings and that was the best kind of relationship you had.
Also if Mabel had waddles then you have a pet raccoon or maybe an axolotl like Ford once did.
If dipper was similar to Ford
And if Mabel was similar to Stanley
Then you were the perfect balance of both of them. Stubborn and sometimes silly like Stan but curious and observant like Ford.
Stan and Ford could clearly see bits and pieces of themselves in you like they could with Dipper and Mabel, with the only difference being that you weren’t a twin nor had a twin but that didn’t stop either Grunkle from wanting to spend time with you.
They had to play rock, paper, scissors against one another to see who’d get to spend time with you first, only for Stan to come out the victor.
Stan would teach you how to box first and foremost so that if anyone tried anything with you, they’d get decked in the face from a vicious right hook. He just wants you to be able to protect yourself even if you were only 9/10 it didn’t make a difference to him really.
Teaches you on how to con people out of their money, lie effortlessly and make quick get aways or even how to get out of handcuffs without trying. Did he once give you a fishing hat with your name stitched on it for the soul purpose of taking you fishing with him when Dipper was with Ford and Mabel was with Candy and Grenda? Yes, he wanted something only you and him could do together that was just yours and his.
Cuz it was either that or commit arson and or property damage to other competitors.
Now with Ford he’ll probably have you be outside with him and documenting strange looking mushrooms and or flowers that you’d come across. It sounds boring but it’s quite fun if you came across fairies and the like, however the moment Ford sees that you were about to fall into a Fae trap, he’s picking you up and getting you as far away from it as he could.
Just like Stan, Ford wanted something that was just for you and him, sure he and Dipper go monster hunting, and he and Mabel dressed up as witches once, but he wanted something he could do with just you.
You’d bond over the fact that you both had/have a pet axolotl.
You and Ford probably took a break from your joint documenting to make flower crowns for one another while having a small picnic in the woods. It was peaceful and relaxing to you but Ford was keeping an eye out to make sure nothing would disturb your little picnic, while looking as menacingly as he could with a cute flower crown on his head.
If you both found a flower that was never seen before, you can bet your ass that Ford is naming it after you, no questions asked.
Stan and Ford are just as protective of you as they are the twins and they can and will step in between you and whoever is making you uncomfortable, all the while keeping you safely behind them as Stan whips out his brass knuckles and Ford shows off the gun on his hip in a silent threat.
Nobody messes with their family and they’ll make sure that message is loud and clear.
Bonus; Bill would probably try to manipulate you into thinking that neither dipper, Mabel, Stan or Ford cared about you cuz twins will look out for each other always but you were the spare sibling that gets forgotten, Insisting Stan and Ford’s brother as reason as to why but you knew your family better then a sentient one eyed triangle did and know that your family would always come through for you time and time again.
And they have and they always will no matter what.
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marauroon · 7 months ago
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hello !!! can i request a right person, wrong time with siri? maybe they broke up because of the war... and the reason is because siri doesn't want to put the reader into danger and then they meet again, all grown up and they still have feelings for each other and Siri has to grovel to win reader back again? And it ends with a happy ending (please) (Siri was the one who broke the relationship and reader was really hurt) it's very long yet vauge 😅
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A CALL TO ARMS — S.BLACK
sirius black was the love of your life, and you were his. but sometimes higher priorities—and deep-seeded anxiety—can get in the way. but the invisible string of fate always brings people back together.
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cw — fem!reader, details of the first wizard of war, reader and sirius have a messy and complicated relationship, harsh arguments, character death mentions, happy ending
sirius black x reader || hurt/comfort || 6.2k || requests open!!
a/n — let’s just pretend sirius doesn’t get avada’d like three weeks after this fic ends
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The war put a strain on everybody. Some people had to leave their families to join the fight, some had to hide away to protect themselves from the Death Eaters.
Some didn’t have a family, anyone to worry about them coming home at the end of the day.
They threw themselves into it the hardest.
Then there was you and Sirius, a pair of outcasts who found solitude in each other. A pair who paid no greater devotion than protecting the people that you cared about from the ravages of Voldemort’s uprising.
You were barely eighteen when you both joined the Order, fresh out of Hogwarts and straight into the line of fire after the group had been offered a spot in Voldemort’s army and refused, leaving every one of you with a target on your back.
By the time you were twenty it almost seemed fruitless, with James and Lily being sent into hiding to protect them and their son under Dumbledore’s direct orders under fear for their continued safety and a Fidelius Charm placed over them to keep them safe. Sirius denied being their secret keeper with the explanation of it being too obvious a choice. What a mistake that was.
Then order members started dying.
And it all began to fall apart.
The brass framed picture in the entrance of the Black family home offered Sirius no empathy as he escaped the bitterness that October was serving him, the laughing faces of his friends and self-proclaimed family only serving to make his already dwindling morale dampen further.
Twenty-two people in the picture. And how many remained? Fourteen. In the span of five months.
It was Dorcus and Marlene that really did him over, and he could barely so much as glance in the direction of their hopeful smiles without feeling like he was going to throw up.
The trudging of his feet up the wooden stairs was proof enough of his arrival for any present members of the Order to hear, too fatigued and all together bleak at the continued state he was living in to announce his presence verbally.
“Sirius, sweetheart, you’re home thank goodness,” Not even the warmth of your arms around him or the relief in your voice as you pulled his head into your shoulder could satiate him anymore.
You shouldn’t have to be relieved that he walked through the door.
You shouldn’t have to hug him like it’s your final goodbye every time he leaves.
Every time you leave.
You didn’t deserve that. And neither did he.
“Godric you’re freezing, come and sit down,” You pull Sirius into his childhood bedroom with all of the care of a feather floating on a pool of water, squeezing his hands in yours like you’re trying to transfer your own heat to him.
He follows you with no real resistance, though he doesn’t make any move by himself, and you have to push his shoulders down to get him to sit in front of the lit fireplace that would hopefully quell the chill echoing across his skin.
You help him remove his coat with a sigh, dark frown lines marking your features as you take a seat beside him and rest the side of your head against his shoulder, your hand gently tracing over his to capture his palm in your own. He doesn’t return the small squeeze of your fingers.
You can’t blame him for being so dismal, the situation was something that nobody could make it through without a gargantuan crack in their emotional shield, but seeing Sirius display his almost funereal sentiment so fervently without so much as a hint of a mask was devastating.
Displaying even the tiniest glimmer of hopefulness was what allowed the Order to survive for so long, and Sirius couldn’t even muster that.
“Harry said his first word today,” You try to keep the conversation positive, ignore the downfall of everything around you and keep focusing on the small wins. “Dada of course, apparently Lily was pretty miffed,” You punctuate your sentence with a small laugh, although it’s more pathetic than genuine and even you can tell you’re doing a horrible job of trying to uplift Sirius’ spirit.
“They sent over a picture, Remus has it if you’d like to see—”
“Just stop.” Sirius shakes his head sharply, pulling his hand from yours and standing with his back to you.
“Sirius—”
“I don’t know why you keep trying to pretend that everything’s okay, it’s not. Our friends are dying and you’re acting like its completely fine.” There’s more malice in his voice than he’s intending, and logically you know that he doesn’t really mean to get so angry at you. It wasn’t you that was the problem, it was the world in which you were living.
But logic can often times get overridden by other facets.
“I am trying to stop anyone else from dying.” Your words are more desperate than harsh, and they’re not laced in anger like Sirius’ are, but they carry just the same amount of conviction. “If we lose hope then we may as well just hand ourselves over…”
There’s a stuttered exhale as you trail off, and Sirius swears he hears your voice crack as you try to take his hand in yours again. “I can’t bear to see you like this…”
“You should leave the Order.”
You’re almost not sure you heard him.
“What?”
“You don’t belong here, you’re not fit for this,” He sounds almost resigned, and his shoulders drop just enough that you’re not sure he really believes what he’s saying. “You should leave before you get hurt.”
There’s a moment where all you can really do is let out a breath of astonishment, and then there’s an overwhelming need to defend yourself against Sirius’ accusation. “I am perfectly fit for this, Dumbledore agreed that—”
“Well I don’t agree with it!” He cuts you off harshly, turning around so that you can see the anguish that’s drenching his features. “People are dying, our friends are dying, and you are on the goddamn list of whose next.”
He takes your upper arms in his hand and shakes you like it’s going to make you see his point, practically shouting at you as he desperately tries to get you to see his point of view. “You are a brilliant witch, and you are in so much danger that it makes me want to rip my heart out so I don’t have to worry about you any more—”
His rant doesn’t stop once his hands halt, and they stay gripped uncomfortably tight around your biceps to the point where you’re sure it’ll bruise. “Dorcus died because she was brilliant, Marlene died because her father was a muggle, you are like the two of them wrapped up in a package practically serving yourself up to the Death Eaters every time you step out of this goddamn house and I cannot take it anymore.”
Sirius practically pants as his yelling comes to a halt, and he almost immediately regrets getting riled up as he sees the reflection of the fireplace in your glassed over eyes.
“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t live like this anymore.” His hands move from your arms to cup the sides of your face, and you flinch at the contact like you’re afraid he’s going to hurt you.
It breaks Sirius’ heart.
“The Order is falling apart love… I don’t want you to be here when it collapses,”
You pull his hands from your face with yours at his wrists, shaking your head as you blink through clouds of tears. “I’m not leaving the Order, Sirius. You really think I would abandon my friends like that? My family? You?”
“Then I’ll make one of the hard choices for you,” Sirius lets his hands fall to his sides on your prompting, taking a step back from you to hide them in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m breaking up with you.”
“What—” There’s nothing but absolute betrayal written across your face, and Sirius almost breaks down immediately. “Sirius—”
“If you want to stay here and watch shit hit the fan then be my guest, but I will not put myself through watching your downfall.” He doesn’t give you the courtesy of replying before opening and slamming the door behind him as he leaves, but you’re not sure you’d be able to articulate anything even if he did, your only response being the start of a sob that echoes off of the empty walls and back into your ears to amplify your own anguish.
You move your belongings out of his room that same evening, taking refuge under Remus’ open arms as you cried yourself into an uneasy slumber, so emotionally exhausted that you could barely formulate any sense of coherency.
Lily and James died two days later.
The news hit you like a truck when Dumbledore relayed it to you, and whilst most of the Order were left in a blanket of shock, Sirius took off in a rage before he could even finish his sentence.
It was enough for you to push the grief aside to not cost you any more.
“Sirius wait—” You weave your way through the others and past Dumbledore to rush after him, the first words either of you had spoken in the other’s direction since the argument. “Where on earth do you think you’re going the Death Eaters might still be there—”
“I hope they are.” Sirius’ tone drips with venom as he pulls his motorcycle helmet from the coat rack at the front door, and you just barely catch his wrist before he has the chance to leave.
“You’re going on a suicide mission—”
“They murdered my brother, I have nothing to lose.” He again leaves the conversation with a slammed door, and you don’t know whether the possibility of his death or the fact that he’d seemingly accepted it hurt you more.
He had nothing to lose.
It was the biggest insult he could’ve possibly left you with.
And it’s all he did leave you with.
For twelve years.
You grieved the loss of Sirius like you did James and Lily, like he too had entered into an early grave of which he would never return. Azkaban may as well have been.
You were angry at first, disgustingly loathing the thought of what those twelve poor muggles had to endure as their final moments. You were less empathetic towards Peter’s fate, although your grief for him was replaced with a deep-seeded betrayal that sunk into your muscles all the same.
Then it settled into an uneven weight in the bottom of your chest, something that you carried with you from that point onward.
You moved out of England soon after, with nothing but a silent vow to Remus that if Voldemort were to ever return, that you’d be there, a final standing against the allegiance that stole your life from you.
You couldn’t stay there anymore, every street of London reminded you of him, of them, of all the people that you lost and how the prime years of your young adulthood were unceremoniously ripped from you under the false belief that you could actually make a difference.
As weeks turned into months, and then into years, there were days that passed where you didn’t think of what happened, of how your previous life had fallen apart and left you as a shell of yourself, and eventually, you managed to pick up the pieces and live your life like it hadn’t happened.
Apart from a single shard of your heart that had lodged itself at 12 Grimmauld Place, underneath the black silk sheets you and Sirius once shared.
You were thirty three when a letter from R.J.Lupin was sent through the letterbox of your house, and it was like those twelve years of growth and acceptance disappeared in an instant.
‘I hope this letter finds you well, I know I promised to contact you only for something of the upmost urgence regarding the resurgence of you know who, but I believe this is appropriately important.
Wormtail is alive. He was the one who caused those muggles to die without reason. Which leaves no question of Padfoot’s innocence.
I don’t know if you have kept up with the wizarding news, but he escaped from Azkaban, and is in a safe and secure location known only by the Order.
I understand if this news is too much for you to digest, but he has asked me personally for your consideration in returning to the place where everything began.
Yours sincerely,
R.J.Lupin’
The aftermath of your reading was a mess of shallow breaths and an elevated heart rate.
Panic.
You hadn’t felt so horrible since the day that James and Lily had died, the day one of your closest friends betrayed you and the love of your life was taken away presumably to never be seen again.
And now he was just out there? You were just adjusting to living without him, and now he was being thrust back into your life by his own doing.
He threw you away right before your house of cards toppled, and now he was trying to worm his way back into your life?
It took you almost three weeks of staring at the sheet of parchment before you made a decision, and it ended with the letter going up in flames and you watching on with a sunken expression, no tears left to cry over the man who’d ruined you.
All of those months where you’d pondered, where you’d asked yourself over and over again what might’ve happened if you’d have just not spoken to Sirius that day, if you’d just let him rest like he’d obviously wanted rather than try pathetically to lift his mood.
If it might’ve meant he would regard you as something to live for and stop him from blindly running off to avenge James and Lily without a second thought.
All of it went straight down the drain. Because you could have him back if you wanted. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to go back and see him again because the minute his name invaded your mind all you could think about was that god awful argument and it’s aftermath.
And it ripped you apart every single time.
“She’s not coming Pads…” Remus’ hand on Sirius’ shoulder was almost apprehensive as he gave it a soft squeeze.
It was almost three months of having to watch Sirius treat the front door like it was his lifeline, his head turning at the smallest creak of the wood in the fruitless hope that when it opened you would be on the other side.
“I know…” Sirius lets out a small, pathetic laugh as he rakes his fingers through his hair, his facade of indifference threatening to break with every breath he took. “Can’t blame me for trying though right?” His voice betrays his devastation, tone wavering and quiet, cracking when he tries to push it to sound more convicting.
“Pads…”
“I’m fine,” Sirius shakes his head with a dismissive hand, clearing his throat and blinking away the starts of tears from the corners of his eyes. “I’m gonna go get some sleep, gonna need all I can get if we’re gonna fight these sons of bitches hey?” Sirius nudges Remus with his elbow as he plays a characature of his former self, although it’s poorly executed at best.
“Yeah…” Remus consciously suppresses a sympathetic sigh that tries to escape his mouth, pressing his lips together. “Goodnight Pads,”
“G’night Moony,”
There’s eighteen months of radio silence before another letter is slotted through your door, and you have half the mind to burn it on sight when the familiar red seal is left face up on your patio tiling, but the handwriting on the back wasn’t Remus’, and it was definitely not Sirius’ either.
The scrawl of your address was almost unmistakably Dumbledore’s, and you were left in an emotional state of uneven limbo as you debated why he of all people would be personally sending you a letter.
Logically, you already knew the reason, but your brain chose to ignore that logic as you ripped the envelope open, only for that denial to be thrown right back at your face once the seal of the Order inked itself into the folded parchment.
You didn’t even need to read the letter to know what was inside it.
Three words.
Invitatio ad arma.
A call to arms.
You barely remember packing your bags, leaving the sense of normalcy you’d built over the past fourteen years to throw yourself back into the line of fire and more devastatingly, right back to Sirius Black.
The train ride to England almost felt like a fever dream, your body left in a state of dissociation where you couldn’t discern whether your actions were real or just a part of some vivid nightmare that you couldn’t wake from no matter how much you tossed and turned.
And by the time you reached the front door of number 12 Grimmauld Place it felt like you were right back where you started, just barely twenty one thrust into a war that could leave you in your grave at any unfortunate minute.
It felt almost foreign to you as you entered, the hallways that once proved to be your substitute home reduced to unfamiliar sights covered in dust and peeling wallpaper. There was no brass lamps to warm the sight, no picture of your closest friends on the wall, not even the mirror that had been hung beside the door had survived, reduced to a half shattered mess that hadn’t been replaced under higher priorities.
“Oh—” The slightly surprised sentiment draws you away from your almost depressing nostalgia, drawn instead towards an almost perfect capture of teenage James Potter, down to the slanted circular glasses sat over his nose bridge.
It’s enough for you to genuinely consider for a second that you’d actually stepped back in time, right into your graduation year when you were all so young and full of hope.
But it couldn’t be James. As much as your heart desperately wished it was.
“You’re another member of the original Order of the Phoenix right?” The boy takes a few steps towards you, wonder still lingering in his eyes despite the film of knowledge that cloud them. Knowledge of just how unfortunately dark the world actually is. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m—”
”Harry…” Your interruption is barely more than a breath of air as you take in the sight of one of your closest friend’s child, a child that he never got to see grow into an almost perfect replica of himself. “You look just like your father…”
There’s a mix of shock and a small amount of sadness in his expression at your statement, and it’s enough for the glimpses of Lily to shine through in his demeanour. “Thank you,”
It’s enough for your eyes to well with tears, and you blink them away with a small clearing of your throat to regain your composure in front of the boy. He didn’t need to see you cry over the fact that he looked like one of your dead friends with the personality of another. That wasn’t fair.
“It’s nice to finally meet you Harry, properly,” You extend your hand almost hesitantly as you introduce yourself, and he takes it graciously in his own with a small sympathetic smile. Being proxy comforted by a teenager, how pathetic.
“It’s nice to meet you too, my parents have good friends,” You give the boy a small nod with a small, sad smile, and he mirrors it himself in turn.
“I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve any of this,” You let your hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly in a terrible attempt at consoling the sadness riddling his expression. “You’re just a boy Harry,”
“I know,” He gives a small sigh and a more confident smile, sympathy lingering in the creases of his cheeks in a perfectly Lily fashion. “I’m sorry for your loss too, I know they probably meant a great deal to you,”
“They still do, that’s why I’m here,”
“Thank you,” He sounds more confident in his thanks this time, more determined, and the remnants of his parents continue to show on full display as his focus returns to the reason you’d arrived here in the first place. “We’re about to sit down for dinner, join us?”
“I’ll be there shortly,” You give Harry a small nod and another small squeeze of his shoulder before excusing yourself up the stairs to leave your belongings.
“Good evening everyone,” Your voice is taught and awkwardly flat as you push open the door to the dining room, and you stand there with your hands wrung together behind your back as your eyes flicker over the room.
There are so many people that the table is almost entirely too crowded, and a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces in your presence, although those who do recognise you leave their seats almost immediately to greet you properly.
“It’s good to see you,” Remus reaches you first, wrapping you in a secure hug that you happily return with your own.
“It’s good to see you too, Remus, it’s been too long,”
“Welcome back, we need all of the human shields we can get,” Mad Eye’s reuinionative statement is much less heart felt, but you give him a small laugh and a “Thank you,” nonetheless.
Then there was Sirius. Stood at his chair, not daring to walk into your little bubble under fear of whatever consequences that might come from it.
He looked almost as you remembered him, but he was leaner, more gaunt, his hair more unruly and his skin even more paper-white than the almost impossibly pale complexion of his teenage years.
He was still Sirius, but he was different, and it took less than half a second of eye contact for him to realise that you were different too.
“Welcome back,” His voice is hesitant, almost catching in his throat as his brain catches up to the fact that you’re stood in front of him, less than ten feet away after all of those years he’d spent desperately dreaming of what it would feel like to have you in his arms again.
Now you were here. And you were a stranger.
“Thank you,”
Dinner progresses pretty much how you expected, a mix of awkwardly introducing yourself to the Order’s new members and horrifically failing at avoiding eye contact with Sirius from across the table.
Then the topic of interest moves to the Order’s plans, and things seem to spin into a downwards spiral all too quickly.
“We don’t have enough members to reliably be able to pull this off,” The argument was entirely valid from a logical standpoint, a weakness that quite a few of the Order seemed to have choice opinions about.
“Yeah well we’re not getting any new members are we?” Sirius leans back in his chair exasperatedly. “With the way Fudge is portraying Dumbledore and the lack of official credibility, we’re on our own here, there’s no use in waiting around,”
“I’m inclined to agree, we all know you know who isn’t going to waste any time,
“It’s reckless,” You shake your head with furrowed eyebrows. “We not ready to face something like that head on.”
“We’re never going to be ready,” Sirius shakes his head with a sigh. “We have to take action before he has the chance to build himself back to where he was all those years ago.”
“Sirius is right, we need to do something,” Sirius gestures towards Harry’s response like it’s the final nail in the coffin against your reasoning.
“Harry, sweetheart, I appreciate your enthusiasm but you don’t know the extent of what we’re dealing with,” Your voice is as gentle as it is assertive, not wanting to put him down too much but also wanting to make sure he understood the true extent of what was going on.
“He killed my friend in front of me—”
“And he’s killed dozens of ours,” You shake your head softly but firmly. “Jumping in without a plan is only going to make things worse, trust me.”
He seems more than a little shot down, but he gives you a small nod of understanding nonetheless as he backs down from his standing.
Sirius doesn’t pay you the same mind.
“So you’re suggesting we just wait in hiding for what, forever? We need to act,”
“The last time you ‘acted’, Sirius, you spent twelve years in Azkaban for it.” Your rebuttal holds none of the softness that was present when you were talking to Harry, and you can see it eroding the calcified shield behind Sirius’s eyes.
“That wasn’t my fault,” Sirius presses his teeth together to keep himself from raising his voice, his back straightening alongside his defensiveness. “At least I’m trying to do something, if you don’t want to contribute maybe you shouldn’t be a part of the Order at all,”
“I will not have this argument with you again Sirius!” His chastation seems to finally get under your skin as you rise yourself from your chair with your hands on the dining table, ignorantly ignoring the uncomfortable gazes of everyone else present as you’re forced back into that evening fourteen years go all over again.
“Okay, I think it’s time we called it a night,” Remus, seemingly the only normally functioning person at the table, rises from his chair slowly, taking your shoulders in his hands to guide you away from the group and calm you down.
“Yes right you are Remus,” Molly stands up with a nod that’s almost too enthusiastic clasping her hands together. “Off to bed, all of you,”
You can practically hear the lingering exasperation in Remus’ breathing as he leads you up the stairs and into the room he was staying in, and the second he shut the door behind you you knew what you were in for.
“You need to speak to him.”
“I know,”
“Properly.”
“I know,”
You’re sure the sigh you let out echoes across the house’s first floor, and it’s enough for Remus’ eyes to shift into displaying a concerning amount of sympathy in your direction.
“He misses you, you know,” Remus takes a seat on the edge of his bed with a soft sigh. “He said the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that got him through Azkaban,”
“Yeah well he wouldn’t’ve gone there in the first place if he hadn’t’ve been such a hot-headed twat,” You wouldn’t lie that Remus’ statement didn’t hit you a little where it hurt, but the lingering anger towards Sirius’ situation was clearly still more forefront in your mind.
“It’s a carried trait in all of us ’m‘fraid,” Remus tilts his head knowingly, and you have half the mind to roll your eyes at the clear implication of what he’s saying.
But he isn’t wrong, not really.
“You know where to find him,”
There’s a small moment of silence, then a sigh. “Do I have to?”
“The longer you wait the worse it’ll be,”
Sometimes you hate how logical Remus can be.
With another sigh and a loll of your head, you reluctantly stuff your hands in your pockets and turn towards the bedroom door, muttering a soft—and only half genuine—“thanks,” in his direction as you leave.
The wooden door that barricaded you from the former love of your life felt more like steel than anything else. Tall, dark, and intimidating to the point where you couldn’t even consciously lift your hand to knock against it under the blood rushing behind your ears from how fast your heart was pounding in your ribcage.
It really shouldn’t be so scary, you’d spent weeks, months in that room when you’d originally joined the Order, yet now it felt entirely foreign to you.
Maybe it was the fact that the wood was slowly rotting away with how unkept it was. Maybe it was the knowledge of what—who—was on the other side of it. Or maybe, your mind was just so completely and utterly fucked that the idea of confronting the consequences of your own actions was more nerve-wracking than the idea of standing face to face in a death match with Voldemort himself.
You stand there staring dumbly at the door for almost two minutes, and when it opens your eyes widen like it’s a new form of magic that you’d never encountered.
Sirius halts halfway out the door, arm stretched straight with the doorknob still in hand as his face seems to go through an insurmountable number of emotions in the half-second it takes for him to realise you’re there.
You don’t say anything as you make eye-contact, head immediately ducking downward and stepping aside so that he can leave without you blocking his path, but he just stays there, staring at you like you had been the door, and it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the second.
You clear your throat with a feigned cough, pursing your lips together with a muttered “excuse me,” as you turn around to leave, but Sirius catches your wrist in his hand before you even manage to take the first step.
“Wait—” He loosens his grasp almost immediately after he feels a resistance, but his eyes convey just how determined he was to keep you where you were. “Let’s talk, please?”
There’s a hint of desperation in his tone, and you almost crumble on that alone, but you manage to maintain your composure with a small shake of your head and a gentle pull of your wrist from his hand. “I don’t think it’s worth it Sirius, not anymore,”
“Don’t say that, we can fix this,” Sirius mirrors your head shake with his own. “You just need to talk to me,”
“I tried talking to you Sirius, and look where it got us,” You gesture between the two of you with exasperation in your tone.
There’s a small pause where the two of you share and almost identical mask of composure over your agony.
“It just wasn’t meant to be, that’s it,”
“That’s not true,” Sirius shakes his head again, more confidently this time, and his inky black curls bounce against his shoulders like they’re trying to torment you with the memories of your fingers raking through them. “We can fix this, us, we just have to try,”
“I don’t want to argue with you anymore,” You lower your gaze away from his so you don’t have to see the heartbreak in his irises. “Especially not over this…”
“Then don’t, let’s work this out properly, like adults,” He reaches out his hand cautiously towards yours, and you flinch away as your fingers make contact. “Please,”
“Sirius…”
“I’m sorry.” Sirius lets out a heavy, pathetic breath as he retreats his hand to run it through his hair. “I am so sorry. I made the biggest mistake of my life and it cost me the person that I love more than life and I have suffered the consequences of it every day for the last fourteen years.”
Sirius lets his hands fall to his side with a start, voice beginning to tremble under the strain of his emotions as he desperately tries to voice everything that he’d bottled up over the last decade and a half before you leave him to rot in his own depression again. “I spent every hour in Azkaban imagining what it would be like to see you again, to hear your voice, to hold you and tell you that you’re the one thing in this goddamn hell that we live in that actually makes anything worth fighting for,”
The breaths between his words are shallow and weak, and your expression starts to blur as his eyes glass over with the beginnings of tears. “I love you so much, and I’m so— sorry that you had to live through everything I forced on you and I just—“ He takes a sharp, stuttering breath in. “—I need you to know that I will spend the rest of my life devoted to you, to correcting what I’ve done even if you don’t so much as spare me a glance,”
He’s not sure when the tears started running over his eyelids, but he can feel them fall in drops to dapple the ivory skin of his fingers. “And if I die tomorrow, I’ll take whatever punishment hell has to give me so that you can rest easy,”
The end of his rant is echoed by laboured breathing and a horrific attempt at muffling a sob that leaves his throat, bouncing off the walls of the hallway to settle into your muscles as you stand stationary in an astonished silence.
You’re not sure what to say. You’re not sure there’s anything you can say. How on earth are you supposed to respond to something like that? Something so desperate and raw and real?
Sirius Black, after fourteen years of radio silence, still loved you like you’d never parted.
“Sirius…”
And you’d be absolutely damned if you weren’t the same.
“I forgive you…”
It’s like a tsunami of relief ravages Sirius’ body at your words, barely a whisper escaping your mouth but invading his ear canals like a nuclear explosion, and it’s enough for that sliver of composure remaining to erode under the waves of his tears until he’s sobbing into his hands, hunched over with trembling shoulders as he lets everything go all at once.
“I’m so sorry—“
His final apology is doused in so much heartbreak it might as well rip your heart right out of your chest, and your at his side almost immediately, gently pulling his hand from his face to pull his head into your shoulder with a soft shush of consolation.
He clings to you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to, tears damping the shoulder of your shirt and his arms wrapped so tightly around your torso you’re not sure he intends to ever let go. You’re not sure you’d complain if he didn’t.
That familiar musky scent of cigarettes and faux leather hits your nose once he’s close enough, and that’s where you break too, silent tears streaming down your face as you bury your nose in his hair.
You’re eternally grateful that everyone on this floor of the house is already asleep, either that or just polite enough not to interrupt the two of you out in the hallway, because the state the both of you were in was definitely not meant to be seen by other people.
A desolate, broken side to the two of you only trusted in the company of the other.
“Stay with me tonight, please…” His plea is barely more than a mutter against your shoulder, and you’re sure he wouldn’t even have to ask to know what your answer would be.
And so you find yourself back where you started, tangled up underneath the silky black sheets of Sirius’ bed in the warmth of his embrace, that tiny shard of your heart finally recovered and back in it’s rightful place.
Right where you belong.
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tesscourtes · 4 months ago
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saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)
it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?
oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.
Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.
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I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.
Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.
Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.
With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?
I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!
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