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alexawynters · 10 months ago

Text

Scarlet Whispers pt. 8

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Smuttttttt. Horribly written smut.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-7 here

Chapter Eight

Translations: котёнок - Kitten; malyshka - baby; lyubov - love; dorogoya - darling; I probably missed some… I should have probably been doing this the entire time, no? Eh… My b.

A/N: Its uhhh.. My first time writing smut for the public so uh… be gentle pls? Lol. Lemme know how it went. Writing dialog and smut makes me cringe haha. This was also written while I was in the hospital. Is it bad that the 5 day stay was almost a vacation compared to life? Haha, living the dreeeaammm. Someone pls hit me with their car or something so I can go back and have 0 responsibilities for another week. Promise I won’t sue 😛

Once again, edited while floaty. Apparently that’s the only time I can get the motivation to open my laptop. In my defense, I’m currently in the middle of a move and starting a new job so pls forgive my laziness. I’m a tad overwhelmed. It’s finnnne.

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During your time at the aquarium with Wanda, you hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. Logically, you knew it was around dinner time because you both had just eaten, but you didn't realize until you both entered the dimly lit cottage that it was so dark outside. Despite the long day you’d had, you weren't ready to go to bed just yet. Body thrumming with an unfamiliar energy, and you could tell it stemmed from Wanda's hand still holding onto your waist. Now that you were home, it would be socially acceptable for her to let you go, but instead, she chose to linger.

Never one to enjoy having others in your personal space, regardless of if you were touch starved, you were thrilled to discover that you didn't mind the witch being so close to you. In fact, the mere thought of being separated from her made your stomach roil with anxiety. Looking at the redhead next to you as you traversed the hallway towards your room for the evening, a new kind of craving overcame you. This one was different from the hunger you had experienced just before dinner, and you realized that you couldn't get enough of the witch’s touch and presence.

Reaching your shared room Wanda finally moves to separate from you, and as she heads opposite from you, her hand falling away, you make a split-second decision. Well. Decision was being generous. More accurately you allowed your impulses to take over, unable to think logically - you couldn’t let Wanda get too far. Not that there was anywhere for her to go in a bedroom you both shared, but your brain wasn’t exactly running on all cylinders at this time.

“Wait!”

You don’t know what, or even if you were thinking, knowing only that in the scant few feet the witch was away from you, your whole world felt like it was collapsing. A lightly calloused hand shot out as you turned to grab her hand again, and in your exuberance, you accidentally ended up yanking the woman towards you. In an unexpected feat of grace surprising both of you, you managed to catch Wanda. Despite her velocity, you were able to use her momentum, spinning both of you. A small jolt of pain wracked through your bones as your back landed harshly against the smooth wall, with Wanda safely in your arms. Chests heaved for air, both of you having fully expected to collide, ending up in a heap on the floor.

After the initial surprise wore off, both women giggled, though neither made a move to separate. “What is it, Y/N?” the older woman asked. Amusement colored her gaze, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. You were still learning new facial expressions to this day.

“I-” You started then stopped, trying to assemble your thoughts and determine just how vulnerable you were willing to be. “Thank you, Wanda. For today. For… everything. This was..” you trailed off, unable to find the words. “Everything.”

You hoped Wanda would understand what you meant by that even if you yourself weren’t quite sure just yet. What you were sure of is that you wanted to return to Wanda at least a fraction of the care and devotion she had shown you in all this time. You knew you didn’t want her to walk away, heart aching at the concept. What you didn’t know was what you wanted to do next, you hadn’t exactly gotten that far, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of being apart from her.

The redhead’s gaze softened at your words. “You don’t need to thank me, lyubov. You deserve so much, and I just want you to be happy.”

The words “with me” went unspoken, though she was dying to let them out. Instead, well-manicured hands lifted the tips of her fingers to gently push some fallen strands of your hair from your face, as she studied you curiously. A feeling you both were on the precipice of something settled firmly within the witch’s chest. Wanda was fairly confident she knew exactly what that something was, but she wouldn’t plunge you into anything you weren’t yet ready to fall into.

Though certain in her assumptions, Wanda was unable to clearly read your surface thoughts. A jumbled mass of emotions, each thought no more than fleeting before another took its place, your mind was a whirlwind. The next steps had to be taken by you, and if you weren’t up for that yet, the redhead was content with where you both were at this moment.

A palpable tension filled the air, conveying an unspoken awareness that something transformative was about to occur. Anticipation lingered in the atmosphere, creating a delicate blend of nervousness and excitement. There was an understated, magnetic attraction that drew you closer to Wanda. Completely unaware as you were, enthralled by the alluring softness of her lips which stoked a longing within you to know if they felt as velvety as they appeared, you were unconsciously learning forward.

It was a moment of breathless expectation, where time seemed to stretch. The world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the beauty of the impending inevitability. Eyes finally connecting with Wanda’s, a silent, mutual understanding was shared, and in that moment, you made a decision.

”May I…?” your voice a husky tremor, thick with emotion.

Never had Wanda found you more endearing than in that moment. Your innocent consideration that you would need to ask her permission after everything. As if she hadn't been waiting for this very moment for so long. As if this wasn’t what she had been waiting for since first discovering the Darkhold, and all the possibilities of a multiverse.

“Please, Y/N.” The witch’s reply was all but a breathy whisper.

As your lips and hers finally connected in a gentle, exploratory kiss, an electric current seemed to pass through their bodies, igniting a fire within your souls. It was a moment of pure magic, a culmination of all the emotions and desires that had been building between you both. Breaths mingled, blending together in a perfect harmony of passion and longing.

The softness of the kiss spoke volumes, revealing a depth of connection that you were certain words could never fully capture. A tender exchange, filled with a delicate balance of vulnerability and trust. Each touch, each movement of Wanda’s lips against yours, was deliberate, as if she was savoring every precious moment of this newfound intimacy with you.

With every passing second, the world around faded away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a bubble of pure bliss. Time seemed to stand still as you explored this uncharted territory together. A feeling as if something inside, you hadn’t known had been missing, was now perfectly slotted into place. Home.

When it came to kissing you, Wanda marveled at the stark contrasts between your Avenger variant, and you. While your other variant was self-assured, often taking command of a kiss with practiced skill, you, on the other hand, were gentle and tentative. It was evident that you were willing to let Wanda take the lead, which she found incredibly empowering, almost addictive. She knew she should probably take this first kiss slowly for you, however, your submissiveness was simply too delicious for her to pass up such an opportunity.

Long, slender fingers came to rest just under your jaw, firmly holding you close, Wanda using her body to press you harder against the wall, as if trying to merge your two bodies into one. A gasp escaped you at the length of the witch’s body pressed so intimately against you. Wanda, ever opportunistic, took advantage of your open mouth to deepen the kiss, her lithe tongue swiping softly at the seam of your lips in askance.

You couldn’t even fathom a moment where you would ever deny Wanda this request, opening your mouth to grant her the access she desired. Her skillful tongue sensually slid against yours, eliciting a barely suppressed whimper from you. With a little coaxing Wanda was able to entice your tongues to engage in a seductive dance, leaving you breathless and heady.

Eventually, the kiss broke, leaving both of you craving more. It had opened the door to a world of possibilities, and in that moment, everything changed. The bond between the pair of you had deepened more than you could know, and more than Wanda had hoped for. Despite initial reservations, your heart knew then you would follow Wanda anywhere, irrevocably tied to the witch forever. There was no one you wanted or trusted more.

While trying to catch your breath, no words were spoken. Taking this moment, your intrusive thoughts began creeping in because of course they were. Desperately you hoped the woman wouldn’t view the kiss as a mistake, praying that you measured up to your superhero counterpart. That you were truly what she had been looking for all this time, even if you weren’t anything special.

You would do anything to have her lips on yours again, and briefly a thought occurred to you that this woman could murder you, and you would probably thank her for the privilege. Therapy, maybe you should ask Wanda if she could get you in to see a therapist, because that wasn’t concerning at all.

It wasn't in you to feel ashamed just then though, not when the very thought resonated in your soul. Gods, was this what you had been missing your entire life? And it had been right under your nose, for ages you had been unknowingly depriving yourself, hellbent on self-sabotage.

As you finally caught your breath, the witch gazed at you hungrily, causing a shiver to race down your spine.

"What do you want, detka?" Wanda asked, voice sultry. She tilted her head as if curious, but in reality, she was relishing in your disheveled appearance, eyes raking over your blown pupils, and kiss-swollen lips. So responsive for her, and this was only a kiss. Your first kiss with her, to be specific. Wanting to completely ruin you, it took every ounce of self-restraint for Wanda to wait for your answer instead.

Chest heaving, your brain struggled to pull together enough brain cells in order to provide her with an answer. When you finally spoke, your voice had a throaty quality you had never heard before.

”You. I want you.”

Green eyes, the color of jade, sparkled in such delight they could have practically illuminated the room with their vibrant glow. As you stared into her mesmerizing gaze, you got lost in her presence. Your mind was a myriad of thoughts, unable to focus on anything else. Every word she spoke, every movement she made, had a profound impact on you. As if the witch had cast a spell over you, weaving her magic effortlessly, and you willingly succumbed to her enchantment, eager to be under her captivating influence.

A mischievous smile played upon her lips, adding an air of mystery to her already enchanting demeanor. The grin hinted at the hidden depths within her, the playful intentions that lied just beneath the surface. So, as Wanda’s mischievous smile lingered, you couldn't help but be drawn further into her web of enchantment, willingly surrendering yourself to the metaphorical spell she had cast.

"Oh, lyubov, will you let me ruin you?" she asked teasingly, her voice filled with impishness and a hint of excitement.

Swallowing nervously, you felt desire building deep within you. Your experiences in this matter were limited, but you trusted the former avenger all the same. Still, you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever Wanda had in store for you would likely test your limits, even if you had no idea what those were yet. Eagerly, you nodded, ready to throw yourself headlong into this unknown, trusting the witch implicitly.

The moment her silky lips met yours once again, a hunger ignited within her, surprising both of you with its intensity and passion. Wanda pulled you close, her fingers curled in your hair, keeping you in place as she plundered your mouth. You could do little but let her lead the way, trying not to embarrass yourself with how much she was turning you on. Her sharp teeth tugged on your lower lip before biting down hard enough to draw blood. A pitiful whine was barely restrained by you as Wanda lapped at the new wound she had caused.

Deciding to test your boundaries during the kiss, the redhead gently wrapped her other hand around your throat. Not tight enough to cut off your oxygen supply, but the pressure did restrict some of the blood flow to your brain, leaving you in a deliciously foggy haze. A breathy moan escaped you, which Wanda eagerly swallowed as you gladly ceded control of the kiss to her. Pride out the window, you were no longer capable of trying to withhold any sounds she could draw from you. Wanda found it delightful that so far you were proving to be the perfect little котёнок for her. The redhead eagerly anticipated discovering what other surprises you had in store for her.

The other hand not on your neck moved from your hair down to the first button of your shirt and hesitated. “Is this okay, Y/N?” She asked, voice surprisingly soft for someone who currently had one of their hands wrapped around your neck.

Sluggish thoughts hazy with lust, you nodded with what would have probably counted as an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. Having someone as gorgeous as Wanda in front of you, asking for your consent, you found you couldn’t be bothered by your eagerness. You were a simp, and you were fine with that. Anything to get more of Wanda touching you.

The former Avenger grinned, finding you utterly adorable. She was charmed by how needy you were for her. Unable to help but revel in the power dynamics between you, relishing the opportunity to challenge your blissed-out mind and watch as you struggled to comply with her demands. It was a delightful game for Wanda, and she was going to have fun training you.

Before she could continue though, the witch wanted you to be absolutely sure. Regardless of how long she had waited for you, if you weren’t truly ready, Wanda didn’t want to push you. She wanted all of you, everything you had to give, but if you still weren’t ready, weren’t sure, she could wait. Wanda would wait forever if she had to.

“Lyubov moya, if you want me to stop at any point, just say the word, and I’ll stop immediately, okay? Full stop, I promise, and I won’t be upset with you.” she insisted, voice thick with longing as her nose grazed gently across yours in a reassuring manner.

Even now, Wanda was always putting your safety and happiness as her top priority, endearing her evermore to you. How could you have ever doubted that this woman had anything but your best interests at heart? The purest of intentions?

Knowing it was a bit over dramatic, while you appreciated her reassurances, if the witch didn’t do something in the next few seconds, you felt like you might combust. Releasing a needy whine, you hoped to convey your desperation to Wanda who only chuckled at your behavior.

“Relax, malyshka, I’ll take good care of you, I promise. But first, I need you to use your words, darling.” The hand on your throat easing its grip a little, allowing more blood to your brain, giving you back some of your intellectual capacity.

With Wanda’s body covering yours, you petulantly ground against her in the hopes of achieving any sort of friction, causing her lips to quirk upwards in an amused smirk. You weren’t going to get out of this until she had confirmation of your understanding, and if she happened to tease you into a petulant, writing mess in the process, well, that was just the cherry on top.

Giving in, you let out a keening whimper. “I understand Wands, please. Just touch me. Please!”

A wolfish grin overtook Wanda’s face at your begging. Green eyes locked with yours, and she could see the desire and longing in your eyes, mirroring her own. The way you looked at her, with a mixture of vulnerability and trust, made her heart flutter with a sense of joy and fulfillment. You were willing to surrender yourself to her guidance, to allow her to take the lead and shape you into the person she knew you could become. That kind of implicit trust and faith you had in her shot her arousal through the roof.

With each passing moment, Wanda's excitement grew, knowing that she had the opportunity to train and mold you into her perfect little котёнок. She relished the thought of all the fun games that lay ahead, confident in her ability to guide you towards your full potential. Your willingness to submit to her desires fueled her passion, making her all the more determined to own you completely. This power was the ultimate high, and she didn’t think she could ever get enough of it.

Her hand moved from your throat to wrap around your waist with a firm yet gentle grasp, pulling you closer to her in an undeniable display of ownership. The touch of her hand on your hip sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you that you had never experienced before. It was a possessiveness that transcended the boundaries of mere desire, a possessiveness that spoke volumes about the depth of her emotions for you.

Far from being suffocating, her dominance was a testament to the strength of your bond. A tangible manifestation of the passion that burned between the two of you, it was a flame that only grew stronger with each passing moment. Her assertive touch was a declaration, a proclamation of her utter devotion and fierce protectiveness towards you.

In that instant, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. A sensation that both thrilled and comforted you, it was a magnetic pull that drew you closer to her with each passing second. Feeling as if you were the center of her universe, the focus of her unfaltering attention, and you visibly preened under her attentiveness. Your hands which were clenching the bottom of her shirt held fast, unwilling to let her move more than a few inches away.

Now that she had your consent and had subtly established your place with her, Wanda's svelte hands returned to the task of unbuttoning your shirt. Unable to resist the allure of your lips for long, she passionately kissed you once again. As your lips moved against each other with a sensual rhythm, Wanda swiftly unbuttoned your shirt. Before you knew it, your shirt was completely undone, revealing your torso to her exploring hands. A shiver ran through your body as her slightly cool palm pressed against your abdomen for the very first time, the gravity of her body pressing you further into the wall. While you had felt her touch on your skin before, it had never been this intimate, this exhilarating.

As her hand glided over your bare skin, heat coursed through your body, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. The flames within you steadily stoked by every caress. Your breath hitched as her touch lingered, tracing delicate patterns along your abdomen.

Growing desperate you deepened the kiss. Your hands instinctively reach for her, moving from the hem of her shirt to tangle in her hair as you pull her closer. The magnitude of the moment was almost too much, feeling the desire consuming you from within.

Wanda's lips slid against yours with a fervent hunger. Her roving hands continued their journey, tracing every curve and contour of your torso with an almost reverent touch, sending pleasure coursing through your body. As your lips moved in perfect synchrony, heightening your senses, it left you yearning for more. The room was filled with a heady mix of desire and anticipation, as you both gave in to the draw of the moment..

Lost in the haze of passion, you couldn't help but give yourself completely to Wanda's touch. The way she explored every inch of your body with a delicate yet possessive hand left you breathless, craving more of her commanding aura. It was a dance of pleasure and surrender, a symphony of sensations that left you craving her touch like a drug. You had never needed anyone or anything as much as you needed Wanda to continue doing whatever she wanted to you.

As the kiss broke, both of you gasped for air. Wanda, still breathing heavily, leaned back to take in the sight of your newly revealed skin, her eyes darkening with want. Though never having been confident in your own body, often choosing to cover up, to hide in your self-consciousness, the way Wanda was looking at you now though left no doubt she liked what she saw. Yet still your insecurities plagued you, especially now that you were no longer covered up and there was nothing for you to hide behind.

The witch didn’t need to read your mind to know where your thoughts were going. The expression on your face, the way you tried to curl in on yourself made it plain. Voice thick with desire, Wanda needed to reassure you. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Don’t ever let yourself believe otherwise.”

Though you didn’t truly believe her words, her tone and the way she held you like she couldn’t get enough was almost capable of convincing you in and of itself. You decided then that throwing yourself into this was the fastest way to get out of your head. Throwing caution to the wind, you slammed your lips against Wanda’s again, desperate for more of her.

Impatient, you couldn't resist the urge to guide Wanda's hands lower, craving for her to touch you more. Deft fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, sending a surge of pleasure shooting through you, and tearing a quiet gasp from your mouth. Your body responded eagerly to her every caress, arching into her hands, silently begging for more. Emboldened by your response, Wanda's touch grew daring, her kisses to your neck pressing harder leaving red welts that would purple over by tomorrow. Her marks on you would tell all who you belonged to. Her fingers began exploring your body with a newfound confidence. The touch was both gentle and possessive, leaving you with the utter clarity that she wanted to mark every inch of you as her own, even the parts of you no one else would ever see.

The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, heavy with desire. Feeling the urgency building within you, your body pressed closer to Wanda's, seeking to ease some of the pressure within. Her touch was all at once overwhelming yet not enough.

Determined to elicit every delicious sound she could from you, one of Wanda's hands finally moved to your breast. Gently she cupped it while her thumb teased you by gliding around your areola, avoiding your hardened bud. She took great enjoyment in your whimpers and gasps as she teased you. If she had it her way, she would keep you like this, never giving you quite what you wanted. Wanda would ease you into that eventually though. For now, this was enough.

Eventually she had mercy on you, letting her thumb lightly graze across your nipple. A deep, throaty groan emanated from within you, your hips bucking against hers, unbidden. Taking the opportunity you had presented her with, Wanda slotted her knee between your thighs, applying firm pressure just where you needed it most. You whispered an exhaled curse as your head slumped forward onto the older woman’s shoulder. Your grip on her tightened, the urge to just rut against Wanda’s leg nearly overpowering what little was left of your rational mind.

Wanda could feel the subtle grinding of your hips against her leg, and she encouraged it, pressing harder each time you arched towards her. The witch grasped your hips firmly, helping to set your rhythm as you desperately sought more friction between the apex of your thighs.

For someone who hadn't even taken off their pants yet, you were surprisingly worked up, but you were far too focused on chasing your high to be overly concerned about it. Sensing how close you were, Wanda pulled away from you, calling forth a keening whine from you. The older woman chuckled softly at your desperation. Her raspy voice next to your ear made you shudder.

"Patience, dorogoya, I don't want you to come just yet unless it's in my mouth or on my fingers."

Wholly unprepared for her words as you were, they almost single-handedly threatened to ruin the witch’s plans as you nearly came on the spot. Wanda was aware that you had likely never edged before, and while she should have shown some mercy, she found no enjoyment in that prospect. Her intention was to have you so drunk for her to the point where you would become a helpless, trembling wreck, willing to do anything she desired just to reach that peak. Then, she planned to repeatedly push you off that ledge so many times that you would be a boneless, quivering mess for her by the time she was done with you.

As her words hung in the air, you felt a mixture of anticipation and hesitation. This was a new territory for you, one that you weren't entirely sure of what you were getting into. But as you looked into Wanda's eyes, filled with desire and a touch of mischief, you couldn't deny your feelings. You wanted to experience everything she was willing to show you, to give yourself fully and trust in her to guide you through this journey of pleasure.

With a deep breath, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "I trust you, Wanda."

A smug smile played on Wanda's lips as she gently held your cheek. "Good," she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction. "I promise you won't regret it. Now, let’s take this to the bed.” She didn’t want your first time together to be rutting up against a wall.

Wanda grasped your hand, leading you the remainder of the distance to your shared bed. Once there the witch assisted you in removing the remnants of your clothes, gently pushing you backwards onto the bed. Before joining you, she took a moment to admire your naked body, as you looked up at her with a combination of desire and excitement. You were uncertain of her intentions, but the fact that you were willing to trust her filled Wanda's heart with joy.

With a gaze that could only be described as ravenous, she studied you and quietly uttered a curse. "Fucking exquisite" she husked, hoping to drive home her words from earlier.

Squirming under her intense gaze, you blushed deeply at her compliment. No one had ever called you that before, not in your entire life. The longer you laid there, alone under her scrutiny, the greater your need for Wanda grew. Before you could ask her to rejoin you, she was already removing her own clothes with purpose. You waited with bated breath, as Wanda revealed her body which you swore could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Honestly, you thought it was a little unfair for someone to look so perfect. You felt absolutely privileged to be in this moment with her, that she had chosen you of all people to witness her glory. No one you had ever seen, in person or even on tv could compare. Wanda was a goddess, and you wanted to worship at her altar.

The redhead knew she was an attractive woman, but your loud thoughts were giving her quite the ego boost. She had you right where she wanted you, but Wanda would be damned if she allowed your self-deprecation to continue. There was not a single doubt in her mind that you were equally deserving to be here with her.

“Your thoughts are loud, malyshka.” She almost giggled at how red your face turned when she called you out, reminding you of her powers, and your gaze dropped.

“While I’m flattered, darling, you need to know.” Wanda said with certainty as she began crawling up the bed towards you. Once she had crawled up the length of your body, the witch trailed her fingertips along your thigh, and up your torso to your face. Curling a graceful finger under your chin, she tilted your face upwards until you made eye contact.

“You are stunning, lyubov moya. There is no one else I would want to be here with right now. Not in the entire multiverse, believe me, I’ve looked. No one but you. Can you trust me on that, Y/N?”

Green eyes searched Y/E/C for any sign of lingering insecurity. With the witch looking at you so earnestly, your doubts faded into the background. They would likely never be completely silent, but in this moment, those thoughts were just white noise. Speaking was currently too difficult for you so instead you simply nodded at her words.

No longer able to hear your uncertainty as loudly, Wanda felt you were ready to continue. “Good, but just to make sure, I’m going to show you.”

Before you could ask what she meant, Wanda kissed you again. Her hand, which was previously under your chin, caressed down your chest and cupped your breast. She gave it a gentle squeeze, causing a soft sound to escape your throat.

As Wanda's touch re-ignited the flicker of pleasure within you, her lips and tongue traced a path of heated kisses down your neck, leaving a hot trail of saliva behind. Her skilled hand continued to explore your body, evoking an oeuvre of gasps and moans. Eventually, her lips settled on one of the places you desired the most, enveloping your nipple.

Once Wanda's lips closed around your hardened bud, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. Her tongue teased and circled the sensitive bud, sending ecstasy pulsating through your veins. While Wanda continued to lavish attention on your aching nipple, her other hand trailed down your body, caressing and exploring every inch of your skin. The combination of her skilled touch and the intense pleasure coursing through your body made it difficult to think or focus on anything else.

Her hand continued its exploration, gliding over your skin with a feather-light touch. Every brush of her fingertips, each flick of her tongue against you sent your arousal to new heights. Your senses were completely consumed by her, the world around you fading once again into a distant blur.

Completely at Wanda's mercy, you found yourself basking in her every touch and caress. The pleasure she was bestowing upon you was the best high you had ever felt, addictive and irresistible. Your mind was filled with a primal need, a craving for more of the pleasure that only she could provide.

Wanda switched breasts, moving to lavish attention on the other one ensuring it didn't feel neglected. Her hand continued to tease your flesh, raising goosebumps to form on your skin.

Unable to sit still, your own hands came up to tangle themselves in the redhead’s hair. Head held firmly in place by you, Wanda's hand slid lower, exploring the wetness that had pooled between your thighs. Svelte fingers teased your entrance, and you gasped as the anticipation nearly undid you. Back arched, begging for more, you whispered a “please!”

Helpless to deny your plea, Wanda's fingers dipped inside you, your slick allowing them to slide in with ease. You moaned lowly as she began to move her fingers in a slow, deliberate rhythm, curling and stroking against your most sensitive spots. The pleasure built within you, radiating through your body like an electric current.

Your hands tightened in her hair, pulling her closer to you as your hips instinctively rocked against her hand, seeking deeper pleasure. Wanda matched your movements, her pace increasing, driving you closer to the edge. Her lips found yours once again, swallowing your moans as the pleasure consumed you.

The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the wet, almost obscene sound of her fingers moving inside you, and the symphony of your pleasure. Each stroke of her fingers sent you spiraling further into this rapturous euphoria, your body trembling with desire.

Lost in the carnality of the moment, you could feel the heat building within you, the pressure mounting until you were teetering on the edge. Sensing your imminent release, Wanda's fingers quickened their pace, driving you towards oblivion. Moans growing louder, they mingled with the sound of your ragged breaths.

“Are you gonna come for me baby?” She asked, voice dripping sweetly with lust, not letting up the pace even a little. The woman knew what she was doing to you, and couldn’t resist drawing it out just a bit.

Beneath her, you squirmed and bucked in place, desperation eeking off you in waves. You hadn’t exactly had many partners to begin with, and you had certainly never been especially vocal with any of them. Wanda couldn't have you being all shy on her now though. She wanted to hear each and every sound she could possibly draw out of you as proof of how good she was making you feel, her fingers hitting that special spot deep inside of you that had always been just out of your own reach.

“Now dorogaya, use your words. Are you going to be a good girl and come for me? If you can’t answer me then I guess I should stop.” Wanda slowed her pace and you all but wailed your frustration.

“Yes, yes I’m going to come. I’m so close, Wands, please don’t stop!”

Truthfully that should have been enough for her but sadistically she wanted to push your boundaries further still. She smirked at your pleas.

“I won’t stop, Y/N, but you can’t come until I give you permission.”

You didn’t think you had ever been on such a precipice of euphoria before. It was right there if only Wanda would let you. Part of you wanted to ignore what she said and let yourself go, but the part of you that yearned to be good for her won out in the end.

You begged pitifully. “Please Wanda, please let me come! I’ll be your good girl, please, just let me come!” You would say anything the woman wanted as long as she would let you finally finish.

It was positively sinful how your submission made Wanda feel. She wanted to experience you like this every day for the rest of your lives. The tremor of your voice as you begged, how quickly and completely you accepted her commands, it was positively sublime.

“Well when you beg so prettily for me, how can I resist? Be a good girl, Y/N - come for me.” Her fingers curled deliciously, mercilessly hitting your new favorite spot.

With Wanda’s permission, the world shattered around you as your orgasm crashed over. Your body convulsed with exquisite hedonism, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Wanda's name were the only words from your mouth as you rode the high, your orgasm careening over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

For Wanda, feeling your wet heat tighten around her fingers, practically refusing to allow her to pull back to even help you through your peak, was so perfect. You didn’t know it, but it was enough to make Wanda topple over the edge alongside you, her head dropping to the crook of your neck while she whispered sweet nothings in your ear, struggling to bring you gently down from your high.

As the aftershocks of your release subsided, Wanda gently withdrew her fingers, her touch lingering for a moment before she pressed a soft kiss to your lips. She held you close, her presence a comforting anchor as you came down from the heights of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling of emptiness after being so joyously full.

Breathless and sated, you nestled into her embrace, feeling a profound sense of contentment and connection. And as you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt that this was just the beginning of something beautiful between you both. You had made the decision to trust Wanda with your body, heart, and soul, and in this moment, everything felt so right.

Wanting to return the favor, and make Wanda feel as good as you did, but as you tried to shift in her embrace, the former avenger simply held you tighter. Feeling rejected, you wilted in her arms. Perhaps you had already failed to live up to her expectations, so much so that she didn’t even want you to touch her. How heartbreaking to have failed so soon, to never get the chance to prove yourself.

Voice soft, Wanda alleviates your fears. “Not tonight, darling. Tonight was all about you. Rest with me for a little while, detka, I just want to hold you. May I do that, Y/N?”

Murmuring a quiet assent, you settled into the comfort Wanda provided. You both laid there, basking in the intimacy you both had just shared, feeling content and happy. It wasn’t long until your eyes began to droop, signifying you were about to nod off.

Sensing how close you were to sleep, the witch gently roused you. She giggled at your grumblings for the disruption but insisted you both needed to clean up. Shaking your head, you whined as you tried to hold her in place with you, unwilling to let her go for any reason. Wanda had to actively restrain herself from cooing at your adorable stubbornness.

“Come on now, it’ll be just a few minutes and then we can go back to sleep, okay darling?”

Petulantly you shook your head, and Wanda full on belly laughed, holding you tightly to her while she did so. Her laughter was infectious, and you couldn’t help but chuckle as well, knowing you were being a bit ridiculous.

Eventually, both of you calmed down, and Wanda pulled away from your embrace, mentioning that she would be right back. You let her go, but you pouted the entire time she was in the bathroom. After a few moments, you could hear the sink running, and then the witch returned to you with a warm, damp washcloth in her hand. With an unprecedented level of care, Wanda cleaned between your legs, removing any trace of the night's activities, while being mindful not to overstimulate you.

“There we go, detka. All clean. Let me just throw this in the sink, and we can go to sleep.”

Doing exactly as she had said, Wanda quickly returned, swiftly maneuvering her way into the cozy bed beside you. With a few gentle movements, she skillfully arranged the soft sheets to envelop both of you, creating a warm and comfortable cocoon.

Once she was finished setting up the sheets, you wasted no time in crawling back into her arms, burying your face into the divot where her neck and shoulder met. You felt like you had been through the wringer, but in the best way. When she had gotten up to clean you both, with her no longer being in your arms, your emotions had run all over the place. Now all you wanted was to be as physically close to the redhead as possible, to reassure yourself that she wasn’t abandoning you after such a vulnerable act.

Wanda was not at all opposed. Quite thrilled in fact, and as she held you, one hand came to gingerly trace random shapes along the side of your face, whispering nonsensical words of love and solace. Pillowy lips placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

As you drifted off to sleep, feeling safer and happier than in your entire life, you heard Wanda whisper in her native tongue. You were curious, but too far gone to ask her what she meant.

“я так люблю тебя, дорогая. (I love you so much, darling.) I promise I will always keep you safe, and I will never let you go.”

A/N 2: ... Why do I have a higher word count for a chapter with smut than any other chapter? .... Reasons. We're going with "reasons". So uhhh... yay? nay? Yeet myself off a cliff? Also if anyone wants to be added to the taglist just lemme know in the comments.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader #yandere!Wanda #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

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bladiegfs · 1 year ago

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Hello! can you write Jing Yuan and Sampo with a s/o who wants to do his make up but turns out to be a make out session? thank u!!

here you go!!

gorgeous

➵ warning(s) applicable: none

➵ wc: 808

➵ they were simply meant to help you practice your skills, but you were far too gorgeous with that focused, determined look… how could they resist you?

Jing Yuan 'so kindly' volunteered to help you. So here you were, face close to his as you put a brush to his face.

“Stop moving so much,” You click your tongue. “Or I’ll mess this up.”

“I’m not moving.”

“You just did. You moved your mouth,” You reply.

Jing Yuan laughs. When your narrow your eyes in mock irritation, he laughs even harder.

You chide him, “It’s not that funny.”

“I don’t think it’s funny, I think you’re being cute.”

“Cute?” You raise an eyebrow. “If this is your attempt at making me forgive you for moving around, it’s not working.”

“I’m not trying to butter you up. I’m telling the truth.”

“Sure. Now, close that mouth. I’ll add a little gloss.”

Jing Yuan nods. You turn to take the tube from the assembly of supplies you’ve put atop Jing Yuan’s desk. You then open it and trace along Jing Yuan’s lips, holding your breath for absolutely no reason.

When you finish and look up at Jing Yuan, he’s already looking at you. Almost a complete turn-around from your demeanor mere moments go, you quietly say, “There. Done.”

For a moment, you two only look at each other, waiting for someone to move, for something to happen.

And he does the first move, gently taking your chin in his fingers, and tilting your head before pulling you into a soft kiss.

Jing Yuan pulls away from the kiss far too soon. Just as you were about to speak, Jing Yuan sloppily wipes his lips with the back of his hand, leaving a shiny trail of lip gloss on his cheek. He then urgently pulls you into another kiss, cupping your cheeks with his hands.

Getting all too aware of the way your breathing starts to get shallow over time, Jing Yuan pulls away. Pretty, Jing Yuan thought, licking his lips. You both stay quiet, gazing at each other with dazed looks, still catching your breath.

Suddenly, a knock. A familiar youthful voice speaks from behind the wooden door, “General! General! You’re late for our scheduled sparring again!”

You give Jing Yuan a look. You whisper, “You were supposed to be somewhere.”

The knocking grows even more persistent. “General!”

Jing Yuan sheepishly laughs. Then, he calls out, “A moment.”

Then, Jing Yuan presses a quick kiss on your lips. “I’ll gladly be your practice dummy next time again, okay?”

Sampo was crafty and you know that. He has a way to get what he wants; he makes use of his charm, some properly placed words here and there, throws in a smile for good measure, and before everyone else knows it, they’ve done exactly what Sampo wanted.

And right now, he has you on his lap as you focus on lining his eyes. The cap of the liquid liner was between your teeth as you narrowed your eyes in complete focus on the task at hand.

The shit-eating grin he’s obviously holding back doesn’t help… or those hands he’s got on your waist.

“Sampo,” You firmly say, the name muffled in your mouth due to your teeth biting down on the cap.

“Yes?”

Taking the cap out of your mouth and snapping it back on the liner, you say, “You’re not good at hiding your ulterior motives from me, you know that?”

“What ulterior motives? No such thing!”

Unamused, you raise an eyebrow. “Easily agreeing to me doing this when you’re usually in a rush?”

In a mock dramatic tone, replies, “Is obliging suddenly suspicious now?”

You decide to get straight to the point. “It sure is when you pull me in to sit here. You just want a kiss.”

And Sampo doesn’t even try to deny it. He simply gives you a smile and says, “Oh? Seems like I was caught, after all!”

You give him an unamused look. Still, you rest your arms on his shoulder and you lean closer.

“Just one,” You warned. “So you can reflect on your actions.”

Sampo only hums happily in reply. Another victory for him, you think. He’s damn lucky you can’t resist kissing that stupid mouth on his face.

You press a kiss on his lips. His hold on your waist tightens— and like habit, your free hand travels to his hair, playing with dark strands as you move. You could feel him smile into your kiss. Then, your other hand lets go of the liner in your grip and both your hands hold onto him as he deepens the kiss with a tilt of his head.

When your breathing turns labored, he pulls away with a triumphant smile.

You huff in pretend annoyance, mind still hazy from the kisses you exchanged. “I told you… just one kiss.”

“But it was just one kiss, like you said,” He reminds you with a cocky look. “That was just one.”

#maddie's corner!#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #! ballad

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luvwich · 4 months ago

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wip whenevers

i was tagged by @ghostoffuturespast to share some work in progress! there's a lot of work and not much progress to speak of but here's a run-down of everything in active development

shanghai 57

some cp77 characters for the this story i've been piecing together. that's regina jones and an OC of mine, mariano torralba / tiyo nano, in their wild youth! (their middle age is wild but their youth was, too)

the fic is mostly-outlined and i'm in that stage of trying to catch a vibe on character voice, setting, all that good and extremely difficult stuff

hypercritical season 3

elsewhere in that universe i've been plotting this nameless post-canon fic that continues mike and vania's story from where crescent&redwood left off.

i will put my cards on the table, a lot of this one is motivated by me wanting to continue their "dynamic" with johnny, lol. (throuple airhorn) (i reveal my cards with a flourish and nobody is surprised, because i have posted excerpts of this before and because it's me)

but i'm also really grooving on the quasi-solarpunk setting where we last found them, and wallowing in the angst V feels after her decision to do the surgery and fuck people over.

Amidst a five-by-two grid of other structures, V's was the last greenhouse on the left. It was a ramshackle assembly: panes of reclaimed plexi-glass bound together with scrap metal and thick cords of hope. A dinky little thing that seemed always on the verge of failing. Though one or two bad storms had jeopardized its integrity, it was still here. She smiled over a shoulder at it as she plodded over the darkening ground toward dinner.

sometimes i do weird shit like use graphviz to plot out what i think the emergent themes of a thing are. i don't know if this helps me in any way but it's fun. the nonsense i'll go through just because i want a blorbo threesome i stg. pointing and laughing at myself.

royal blue

i'm writing a follow-up chapter to that fucking bummer one-shot i wrote about valerie and river a little while back. i can't leave them miserable like that!

breached (smutty collab)

i worked with @streetkid-named-desire on a one-shot with their OCs VG and batsheva and it turned out really cute :3 lookin for beta readers rn!

V's interface dribbled into the emptiness, everything but the maze and mouse thinning out into wavering lines. He could feel what she was doing through his avatar. The sensation wasn't quite the same as when he was in realspace, but it sizzled through his nerves like the aftershock of a dream. Somewhere in the netrunning chair's hardware, bits and bytes were scrambling to make sense of the feeling of Bea's wet, beautiful mouth dancing over his cock. The result was an exhilarating, electric connection that felt like neither life nor the Net.

bg3 bros helping bros

last but not least this is most likely the next thing i'll actually publish, and it's A Bit Different for me! i was possessed by the idea of Rugan and Gale having a hush-hush no-homo encounter a while ago and reeled off some lil bits for the fabulous Zhentil Keep discord. for whatever reason (probably because i have 80 other things to work on!!) i picked this up again over the weekend.

Now, Gale wasn't the slightest bit wrong. It was a nice cock, and anyone who espied it had the right, nay, the duty to say as much. But how'd he manage a glimpse from so many paces away, at the edge of moondark at that? Perhaps he'd deployed some perverted hocus-pocus in order to steal a look at the Zhentarim serpent.

i have some kind folks beta-ing this, and i really need a title. it's the first thing i've written for bg3! i was trying to ship rugan with my tav but this scene has gripped me and i kind of love him with gale more now?? it happens

#my writing #wip whenever #lw

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nutcrawler · 1 month ago

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X-Men 2024, or, what the fuck should I read this year?

As someone that wasted the last week catching up on all current X-titles, here's the long short on which books are nice

Uncanny X-Men

The first one I read because it has my boy Kurt, with Rogue, Gambit, and Wolverine, traveling a bit and hanging out in Louisiana until the plot comes to get them with 4 new younger mutants being hunted.

Exceptional X-Men

This is the slice of life book. Kitty Pryde is a bartender in Chicago, while she balances trying not to fuck up her wlw dates twice in a row with rescuing every baby mutant that she crosses paths with. Pretty gay, I like it, it has good writing.

Adjectiveless X-Men, aka X-Men

The Scott Summers Show, I would actually recommend this one above Uncanny, as it seems to be the "true" book the x-events are moving around. Scott & Co. living in Alaska, Beast is back and trying to cure Magneto, Glob and Quentin are here too. If you are only gonna keep up with one book, this one wouldn't be a bad pick.

NYX

Or, the Young Mutants Pride book. The Kamala Khan/Laura Kinney book. Pretty focused on the "community" aspect of mutants, issue #3 has a scene that really highlights this with regards to where you belong, what you hide, etc. So pretty gay like Exceptional, a Morlock even mentions scalie fetishists. I don't really like X-23 but she's good with Kamala in this book.

X-Factor

Reality show mutants with a side of "you can't work for our oppressors." Leans pretty comedic when not focusing on mutant oppression and the question of integration. Oh yeah btw all these books are wearing their politics on the sleeves, some more than others though.

X-Force

Forge made a device that tells him where shit is gonna hit the fan, and he's assembled a team to keep shit together, and if they do their job right, nobody will know. Clearly building to something, so the action focus is a little dull for me, but the couple writing between Captain Britain and Askani is nice. Forge is hiding something because he refuses to take off his psi-shield.

Sentinels

The edgy book, people dressed like sentinels and hunting down mutants. The letters page at the end of issue #1 was explicit about how they are pulling the energy of Robocop and Starship Troopers, so if you like fascy tacti-cool stuff, this is the one. Not hating btw I love Verhoeven, I saw some posts on 4chan about how this book is triggering the libs but that's just cope.

The solo focused books:

Dazzler

Mutant and proud, and on tour! That's it, there's only been one issue. Includes an entire mutant pride song called Out and Proud. Didn't particularly enjoy this one.

Storm

Wanting to begin her political career, but starts with the harsh truth that a local nuclear disaster was the fault of a mutant instead of negligent engineers. She also gave herself a megadose of rads and has hours to live. Also only 1 issue out right now, but decent.

Phoenix

Jean Grey, space cop (except she helps people). Has a very strong "actions and consequences" theme. Phoenix's history is constantly brought up Jean works to rehabilitate her reputation. Also some kind of fatherhood theme going on, Jean inadvertently gets an alien girl's dad killed which is slowly working its way around to be a problem for Jean again; Jean also run's into her father in law, who brings her to some Asgardian zombies, it's a whole thing. Not too bad imo, but as the "cosmic book" it's kinda all over the place.

Wolverine

Absolutely unhinged, my boy Kurt gets shot in the fucking face first issue. But it was to motivate Logan to be a good boy, so seal of approval.

oh there is also From the Ashes Infinity Comic that is p good, a sort of anthology where every 3-4 issues is a different story, I actually really liked it despite the Infinity Comic format

So that's the first 6 months of post-Krakoa, p good so far, will keep reading for sure.

Mystique #1 comes out in a few days which I'm kinda hype for, she finally got married to Destiny last year so Marvel's premier lesbian couple is thriving.

So long true believers, and remember:

#marvel #comics #marvel comics #x-men #x-men comics #review #x-comics

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nicholsroy · 1 year ago

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November updates & December goals

Blog | Monthly updates

It's nearly December (which, side note, is wild - does it feel to anyone else like this year, in particular, just flew by?), a time where things tend to slow to a near-halt in terms of productivity as we prepare for various winter holidays. In terms of the personal writing schedule I maintain in my head, however, it feels a bit like things are busier than ever. Without further ado, updates and follow-up on November's goals are as follows:

November updates

NaNoWriMo: Absolutely blew this out of the water like a boss.

Nah, I'm totally kidding. I'd be lying if I said I was upset about this, though, because I "failed" for the best possible reason - I regained my full motivation for putting together LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE's final manuscript, and have been fully focused on that for about the last 10-15 days. That being said, I did count all new words from scene editing toward the NaNoWriMo goal. Here's my (approximate) breakdown:

Warmups/drabbles: ~1,098

THE DOTTED LINE reoutline: 2,036

SUPERNOVA zero draft: 6,700

LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE scene editing: ~3,000

I extend my encouragement and congrats to everyone else who took part, regardless of whether or not you "won". As an old curmudgeon who's participated in the challenge most years since 2008 (won five times, excluding one Camp NaNoWriMo win), my philosophy about this and similar challenges is basically: even if you don't "win," you've probably written more words this month than you would have otherwise. I know I did.

Query preparations:

I still can't believe I'm seeing this low of a chapter/WC discrepancy for this novel.

Goals for the final version of the manuscript, other than line editing/playing around with prose, fixing plot holes/inconsistencies, addressing beta comments, and fact-checking, include making the novel more marketable/more of a "typical" thriller in any way I can that doesn't affect the overall story. This has included things like restructuring the novel to make it "truly" dual timeline (ie. chapters now alternate consistently between THEN and NOW segments across both Acts), choosing strategic areas to end chapters and to split the Acts and main story arcs, and limiting individual chapters to 5,000 words maximum. This has resulted in more and shorter chapters, but it's also, weirdly enough, allowed me to more easily incorporate content about core story messages and themes, address some kind of unfinished/potentially unsatisfying plot threads, and develop parts of Gabriel's story that were previously lacking without completely obliterating the word count. I am very excited about this, especially because some of the aforementioned plot elements have been major headaches for years!

With the new structure, I've set myself a WC goal of 50,000 words per Act (bringing the total to 100,000 words). My actual goal is 110,000 words for the novel, but I want to try to leave myself as much wiggle room as possible for whatever new scenes/partial scenes/bridging scenes I need to add to close gaps with the dual timeline structure.

After this process is finished, I'll need to do a final readthrough for consistency, and then it's capital-D Done (until an agent asks me to edit it again, anyway)!

In terms of preparations for the actual querying process, I added one agent to my query list this month (and am considering adding a second).

Reading: I'm now 10 books (83%) into my reading goal for 2023!

Read this month:

The Keeper by Jessica Moor

December goals

Currently, my only writing priorities for December are:

To finish the line edit and re-assembly of LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE, Act I;

Get at least a good chunk into the line edit and re-assembly of Act II;

Finish my query letter (finally).

I may also participate in another NYC Midnight challenge this month (a 250-word flash story this time), but this will depend on a few different factors.

I will also read at least two books in order to finish my 2023 reading challenge. These will most likely be A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara and Angels Before Man by Rafael Nicolás, unless something else comes up prior to the end of the month.

#update #blog #writeblr

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mi4012mariaperera · 3 months ago

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Set Design (pt. 7)

31/08/2024

Hi everyone! I'm back again with another set-related post. So, the thing is, we got good feedback from Dinendri for our nighttime shots. However, the daytime shots weren't that impressive. The background looked cartoony. So, we decided to make some changes to our background and give the daytime shots another try!

Unfortunately, when we came back to uni after our break, we discovered that our set was broken. Someone had messed around with it and dropped it TOT. But that wasn't going to demotivate us from taking those daytime shots. We have to get it done one way or another!

Luckily for our group, I'm glad that Ayodya, Shiza, and I had the motivation to work towards taking our broken set and bringing it back to life!

Here are some work-in-progress photos of us fixing the set on Thursday! (29/08/2024) :-

We headed over to Print-mart to get some printouts of a clear sky and some rural-style buildings to fit the Khandwa setting. We also had to get some mounting tape to stick on the pillars firmly onto the background and also for the building stand.

And just in case someone tried to mess with our set again.... we decided to leave a little note ;)

(We couldn't write it in Tamil :( )

Final work in progress (30/08/2024) :-

Even though we didn't have lectures yesterday, we decided to come to uni to assemble the set and take the photos for our story boards!

(Also happy to report that our note was effective :D)

Here's a picture of Ayodya, Shiza, and me assembling the set: -

The assembled set ready for lighting and pictures:-

Here's our work in progress photos for takings pictures of the set:-

For lighting, we actually used a 'warm light' (From the storage room) and a 'white light' (an emergency lantern I brought). Nishitha helped us set up the yellow light. We used the White light to add some additional lighting to important areas that were being shadowed.

Shiza was our official photographer for all the set pictures: including our storyboard pictures.

Before I conclude this post, I would like to give a huge shoutout to Indusara (Gangubai group) for helping us carry the lights from the 6th floor all the way up to the 9th.

A special shout out to Thameena (Se7en group) for helping us with carrying lights, setting up the lights for certain shots and also for holding the background boards.

And of course, the loudest shoutout to my amazing teammates Ayodya and Shiza for having the same dedication and motivation as I had to pick up the broken pieces of our set and make it into a much better daytime setting.

At first, the 3 of us felt demotivated and upset after looking at the broken set. But we didn't let our optimism meter run out. We planned everything out well and overall, I believe we did a good job. I'm glad they had the determination to fix the set because I know I wouldn't have been able to do it on my own.

Thank you, guys! <3

That's all for this post! I will post some of the best pictures from our set shoot in my next post. Stay tuned for further updates :D

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tamiveldura · 7 months ago

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I'm autistic and have ADHD, and I'm a chronic illness spoonie, and I'm here to tell you that A System is your friend. You don't have to write every day. You don't even have to write once a week. But you do need a system or routine that you can activate when it's Project Time.

I have been writing to-deadline for about 6 years now. I have never missed a deadline, but a few of those first ones were skin-of-the-teeth and I've been perfecting my systems ever since so that never happens again. I can't handle the stress.

The deadline is not a healthy motivator. Though my ADHD peeps will agree that it is effective. I've spent the last 6 years figuring out how to avoid Crunch Time.

The answer is a system.

I do not write every day. I do not track wordcount. I tried both of those and they don't work for me. (Maybe they work for you. Try it, but try other things too. Don't force it.)

Your system will be unique to you. But you'll figure it out by trying other systems on until you assemble the pieces that work.

My process looks like this:

Idea or deadline: either I've thought of a genius plot or I've chosen to tackle a project with other people (like a multi author series, or an anthology). Both of these trigger a new file in my scrivener wherever the story belongs.

Setup: I have a brainstorm document, an outline document, a draft document, a notes document. These keep the project contained.

Ideating: most writers really love this stage of a project, it's where all the great excitement of discovery lies. I dump all of this into my brainstorm document.

Plotting: works very well for me. Might not work for you. I organize all the tangled things in the brainstorm document into a structure. I check the beats of my chosen tropes. I hunt down plot holes. I scene block characters and action sequences in very rough terms just so I have large movement gestures. Emotional arc.

Drafting: not my favorite task, NGL. I dictate the initial draft and it's not good. I'm not trying to come up with beautiful words and amazing turns of phrase. I could, but it would make this part take 10x as long and it doesn't need to. Often this is a very dull series of simple sentences just to work my way through each scene. My goal here is to literally convert the plotting notes into the correct tense and sequence of events. Nothing more.

Revision: I like this part because I don't have to do the heavy lifting of "what happens next?" I already know what happens, now I get to make it pretty

PWA: proofreading. Not my strongest skill, so I use Pro Writing Aid to jumpstart me. It really helps with passive voice, which I'll slip into when tired.

Editing: paid. Not everything gets a paid pass. Some works go on submission. Others are released naked into the world. I do a lot of short stories.

Publishing: formatting, cover art, audio art, uploading, audio upload, newsletter announcement, promo scheduling, etcetcetc

Ok so these are the general steps of authorship, but what is the dang system?

The system boils down to two things:

1: days I decide I'm working

2: days I decide I'm not working (number 1 can turn into number two if it's a bad day)

By default I work Monday-Friday from about 1 pm to 4 pm. Weekends are off. Any day my husband comes home early gets cut short. Any day he is off I'm also off. Any day I wake up with no spoons, I'm off. Any day I realize I'm feeling stressed, I look at the calendar to check deadlines and book a week off. I take a week off after every novella or novel, but I'll go two or three short stories in a row. I take December off, usually starting at Thanksgiving and ending a week after new year.

You may be seeing a trend here. I take a lot of time off. It turns out, when I started giving myself the time I needed to rest and read and relax without guilt, my output on workdays skyrocketed.

Side note: you are probably not living with a sugar daddy paying the bills. I'm really fucking lucky to have funding in my corner. But REST is a requirement and you must do your very very best to protect your resting days/hours to the death.

Tami, I hear you say, what is the system? The writing system. The system that keeps you getting up every Monday-friday and having the energy and attention (if not the motivation) to work every day on the book?

Rest is the system. But the system is Deliberate. The system is Attentive. The system asks: is today a rest day? If yes what storytelling are we consuming to refill the well for our next workday?

It's not restful to doom scroll Tumblr "looking for inspiration." It's not restful to binge 6 seasons of Survivor in two weeks. Both of these things have their place, but when was the last time you deliberately planned your rest to be fulfilling and recharging? When was the last time you gave it any more thought then "I'm just tired."

The first day I decided to rest on purpose, I slept for 12 hours straight. The next couple of weeks were solidly 10/11 hours per night. That has since eased up to about 9 or 9.5, but it's 9ish Every Single Night. Before I decided to rest, I was only giving myself 6 or 7. Did you know some symptoms of chronic exhaustion are indistinguishable from dementia? I had no idea how much sleep I really needed.

If you're still here (I appreciate you), this is where we get to the work. You have rested. You have refilled the creative well. You wake up and decide Today Is A Writing Day.

Cool. Open the document and read your most recent chapter to figure out where you left off.

Take a glance at your notes or your outline if you have one.

What scene sounds fun today? Start writing that one, [put brackets around anything questionable] or that you have to look up later (do it later!) and as soon as you come to a point we're you've exhausted the initial energy of the day: STOP.

Write a few notes to yourself about where you think this is going next. And put it all away.

Congrats, you've probably been writing for 20 minutes. Maybe 50 if you had a good run. Perhaps you managed more than 1k. Maybe. I can only break 1k/hr when I'm dictating.

But Tami, the book is NineHundredThousand words long this will take forever.

Yeah, it will. It's a novel. But if you rest and you refill the well first, you will have more and more and more workdays.

You wanna write a book in a year? You're running a marathon, but you've gotta build up your muscles. It takes months, years, to train for a marathon. And you know what a marathon runner needs to train well and hard?

REST.

Writing Tip - What ‘Habit Over Motivation’ Actually Looks Like

We’ve all heard the writing advice that you can’t rely on motivation to get you through writing a book, sometimes you need to force yourself to do it and make a habit of it. And a lot of us will scoff at that or find it too restrictive or boring, it leaves us feeling like it’s a chore rather than a fun activity

As someone who only worked out what people actually mean by it recently, let me explain my take on it

You’re not always going to be inspired to write, you’re not always going to be motivated to write, but if you only write when you’re motivated it’s gonna take a crap ton of time - and writing anything to completion already takes donkey’s years as it is. Forming a habit is going to enable you to write consistently, and thus even unmotivated or uninspired progress is still made. Hence, sometimes you have to force yourself to write

But writing too much will make that habit impossible, or at least it becomes a chore and not a fun activity. You need to give yourself realistic goals to meet, even if it’s only something small. Write for ten minutes a day, write 500 words every week, any snail’s pace progress regardless of how insignificant it may seem. Something small enough that it doesn’t drain you but frequent enough that there’s still a habit being formed, there’s still consistency to it

I used to only write when I was inspired and motivated and could get myself to start writing, and even then the word count would be inconsistent. It could be weeks or even months between proper writing sessions. But now that I have a baseline for productivity, I have a baseline for consistent progress. And I’m only on 1K words a week! And if that doesn’t work, you can do less, or go by time spent writing if that’s a better metric for your writing style!

There’s no such thing as not enough progress when it comes to forming a consistent habit; if you can get at least one word per deadline (day, week, whatever) then that still counts as consistent progress

What everyone else seems to think of is “You must get this big amount of words written daily, think of it as eternal NaNoWriMo, if you miss even one day you’re a failure and you’ll never get the book done, SUFFER FOR YOUR ART!”

Just do what’s comfortable and it’ll be fine, no worries

#god i hope this finds the audience that needs it #i needed to hear this 15 years ago #but i know i wouldnt have listened #not really #its so hard to explain #you have permission to rest.#indie author #chronic illness #rest #amwriting

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onelovewonderwoman · 3 years ago

Text

first class || charles xavier x reader

i’ve been on an x-men binge and fell into a hole of james mcavoy and charles xavier again, so here we are. i haven’t written fics in a long time, so i tried to again. i’m uncreative so like the title is just the first movie because of the fact that it’s set during that time. kind of like self insert cause there’s a few bits and pieces where there’s canonical plot and interactions, so disclaimer for that. anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ps also don’t have enough energy to find a fitting gif so maybe i’ll find one later maybe i won’t. we’ll see

words: 5.8k

warnings: not proofread (i spent three days on this so i don’t have the energy anymore haha), writing lacks emotional depth, drug use and mentions, intent of murder, thoughts of (murder, rape, suicide, etc.), poorly written two paragraphs about kissing, angst, we ignore moira and charles’ romance cause... duh, it’s x reader and it’s too difficult for me to work around it rn a haha

masterlist

The rooms were always the same. They were dark, illuminated only by the dimmest of lights emanating from the occasional lava lamp or fairy lights. Fairy - ironic word for such situations, such rooms. Filled so heavily with smoke it made it hard to breathe, let alone see. And the floors; the floors always felt different.

In hindsight, it was probably the one thing that had her realizing the rooms were never actually the same. Sure, they had the same smell, the same overcrowdedness and moving bodies, the same darkness, even the same taste, but the floors testified to the difference each room held.

Sometimes, when the world would freeze and all the people around her became nothing but a mesh of warm bodies, she could hear the floor creak under her feet with every step she took. There she was - the house right down the street from her.

Other times, the floors felt sticky under her shoes. She assumed it was tequila. There were always too many bottles around to count, surely there would be spills. Or, some poor guy could have pissed himself like that one time. When her shoes sounded like velcro as she walked across the floor, she was at the house all the way across town.

In any case, she felt the same ankle up. One of her favourite parts had to be the way the music always abused her ears - so high, it made her feel lightheaded. More so than she already had been both. Sex was not nearly regular enough for her to compare, but she knew what she would feel every time the music was loud enough to make her head buzz and throb with a vengeance was more erotic than anything anyone could ever do to her.

The place could change but the scene never really did. Down to the people - she knew this for sure. She knew every beating heart around her like they were her own. She never only felt it there, but in her head as well. Even as it buzzed, she felt it. Sometimes it tore at her skull as if trying to escape - ironic.

Now, why did the scene change one evening in 1962? She told herself it was fate, but it had merely been wishful thinking when she knew why. How did she know? She knew the man sitting next to her on the worn down couch, nearly entirely unconscious and reeking of weed and vodka, knew the girl across the house, the girl across the house knew the man next to her and that - so on and so forth - meant she knew all three of them, even though they didn’t know her. So, for two new men to walk into the house, their eyes focused - focused on her - changed the scene entirely.

Now, the music became nothing more than an assault on her ears; the lights became too bright at the same time as the dark became too dark; the air became heavier than usual; and she sobered up at the feeling of something - someone - in her head. Then, it all caved in. It was as overwhelming as it always was, but she was used to it enough to handle it for a little while, at least whilst remnants of her high remained. She couldn’t say the same for the shorter of the two men she saw keel over at the pressure.

He got over it pretty quick, from what she could tell. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced himself as, “This is my colleague, Erik Lensherr.”

A quick trip from the couch to the door had her standing on the lawn of the house of the night with the two men. Crickets could be heard fighting against the sound of the music blaring from the house as she swayed on her feet, making wet sounds in the grass from earlier rain. Charles stood not much taller than her, charm emanating from him and the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to smile despite his furrowed brows and mouth set in a straight line as he stared at her, waiting for a response with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. Erik stood taller, stoic and calculating.

“And?” She crossed her arms across her chest, both in discomfort and the fact that the chilly night air had begun to bite at her skin, her long sleeve doing nothing to help. “I should care why?”

If the incident earlier wasn’t enough, the way the both of them looked at her was enough for her to know why. “What’s your name?” Charles asked, having her notice then the English accent on his tongue.

The second she gave it to him, he smiled - almost sympathetically - at her and hummed, “You have an incredibly busy mind, Y/N.”

“And you have an incredibly nosy one, Charles.” That had Erik letting out a chuckle, one that felt like approval to her ears.

Never in a million years would she dare say yes to anything of the sort the two men proposed to her that night. A team of mutants; not necessarily that she thought it was absurd or a horrible idea - no. It made sense, not factoring in their current climate, to have a team of mutants fighting against the evils of the world. The horrible idea was to have her join. No, she wanted to tell them, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too,” Erik agreed with her, catching both herself and Charles off guard, “We’ll be going then.”

He offered her his hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at his outstretched arm. Sometimes her high slowed time - it could have been five seconds or five minutes. When she finally looked away from his hand, up at him, she saw he stood unwavered and patient.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Her eyes shot to Charles as he broke the silence. He shook his head, brows still furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “You’re under no obligation.”

For Charles to know, she understood. He had just been in her mind long enough to know that most of it wasn’t even hers. For Erik to know and offer her his hand made her wonder just how desperate he was to assemble the team - for whatever reason that she was about to find out in a moment.

“We leave now.” Was all he said after he tore his hand from hers.

An hour hasn’t even passed when she found herself on a plane with the two men, mind still buzzing but this time not with a high. This time, with an overwhelming anger and anticipation. The way Erik didn’t make eye contact with her and Charles sent worried glances her way throughout their trip to their “base” was enough to tell her that they knew she had already been briefed on what was happening - the reason behind their assembling of a team. Rather, she knew specifically of the personal motive behind it.

All it made her heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute. It pounded against her chest so hard she was sure at least one of them could hear it. So badly did she want to hide out in the plane’s bathroom and take something to stop the pain, but it was off the table. For now.

Soon enough the flight ended, and she came to find out their “base” was a covert CIA facility where they placed the other mutants they rounded up before her. She just as quickly met and said goodbye to Moira MacTaggert, a CIA officer working with Charles and Erik to stop Shaw. His name alone sent sparks of rage flowing through her veins.

She was left with the group when the three went off that night. There, she came face to face with Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, Darwin, and Angel - or, Mystique, Banshee, and Havok. Darwin and Angel were “self explanatory”, considering they were already nicknames and described their powers fairly well. Hank was just… Hank.

Her turn came around quickly, once everyone settled down from Alex’s show of his “gift”, when all heads turned to her, sitting at the end of the couch. Raven smiled at her - she liked her, she was sweet - “What about you? What’s your power?”

“I’m,” She paused for a moment, the eyes on her making her anxious and curl into herself hoping, praying, another mutant wouldn’t touch her. “I can move things. With my mind.” She gave a tight smile to Raven and nodded her head, as if to reassure herself. “I can move things with my mind.”

Raven’s smile only widened, excited by either the prospect of her being able to move things with her mind or the opportunity to give her an alias. She assumed it was the latter. She excused herself to the washroom just as Raven asked the group what they thought. “We’ll have one for you once you get back! Promise!” Raven called after her.

Body filled with anticipation, she nearly ran to the washroom, willing the door closed behind her after she entered. It was small, but clean - CIA property after all.

She tried. She really did. Albeit, making contact with a mutant was always the worst; Erik especially. The trauma, the pain, the thoughts. All them clawed at her brain, as though they were tearing through it layer by layer until nothing but them remained within her skull.

Nothing could stop her from taking out the small baggy in her back pocket and tearing it open. Nothing could stop her from taking it, only to feel a rush flow through her. It would take a bit, but soon enough she would stop feeling them gnawing on her very existence. Soon, numbness would wash over her and she could just be no one.

She guessed she was in the washroom for about half an hour. Staring at her reflection, at the floor, at the ceiling, at anything, but when she made her way back to the room, she found it in disarray. Music was blasting from the radio, chairs flipped over, Raven on top of the couch dancing as Hank hung from the ceiling light, the rest of the group messing around with their powers. She couldn’t tell if they were experiencing some high of their own or just happened to have gotten their hands on some alcohol.

“What are you doing? Who destroyed the statue?” Moira’s voice broke her out of the trance she was in watching the group. Slowly, she turned her head to see her, Charles, and Erik walking over as everyone else froze. Moira was angry, that much anyone could tell, but the two men were unreadable.

Hank was the first one to reply back, jumping down the ceiling, panicked, “It was Alex.”

“No. Havok.” Raven seemed to stay unfazed, still standing on the couch with a wide smile on her face. “We have to call him Havok. That's his name now…”

Raven’s words melted away from her. Her focus wasn’t elsewhere; it was simply nowhere at all. She stared at everyone in the room, yet no one at all. So caught up in nothing she didn’t notice Charles himself staring at her until Erik uttered something under his breath and walked away with Moira following, brows furrowed in what looked to be confusion. Just as she caught his eye, he looked away.

Directed at Raven, he spoke firmly, “I expect more from you.”

Not long after, they had gotten word that Shaw would be in Russia, and so she was left with the group of mutants when the three left alongside the CIA to get their hands on him. Before, it would have made her wonder what purpose the group of mutants really served if they didn’t want them there to help. Now, after the incident, she understood why.

By no means were any of them prepared for such a task. She couldn’t claim to be either. She only agreed because she knew a part within her would hate her for not coming and at the very least trying to help.

Just when she thought she and the solemn group couldn’t be any more of a liability, she was proven wrong. Because now Sebastian Shaw stood in front of them, smug and irritating as ever, after having his lackey drop an unsuspecting CIA to his death in front of all of them and cornering them.

“Good evening. My name's Sebastian Shaw, and I'm not here to hurt you.” She was sure she wasn’t the only one assuming he had taken out every single CIA operative in the facility to make it this far; a thought that filled her being with even more dread than she was already feeling at the sight of him. “My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition, you are against us. So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you. Or you can join me, and love like kings and queens.”

They all watched, both shocked and betrayed when Angel took the hand Shaw outstretched, standing by his side even when he murdered Darwin in his attempt to stop him with Alex. She didn’t see it - she turned away the second Shaw released the energy he’d taken from Alex into Darwin. She heard it, though. The explosion. When she turned back, as Shaw, Angel, and the men he had brought with him retreated, she saw nothing. There was no sign of Darwin; not even a speck of dust.

Suddenly, her chest tightened and the clawing came back.

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

The person who happened to almost send them home also happened to be the one who provided them a new place to train their powers for the fight with Shaw. Charles was entirely serious and extremely close to sending them all home; “They’re just kids.” But Erik made it clear to him that they couldn’t be anymore, not after Shaw.

Charles lived, alongside Raven, in a massive mansion that had been entirely too big for her to take in, but it provided the perfect space for them to train their powers. Each of them were assigned rooms by Charles personally that day.

He took the liberty of walking them each there. She didn’t know if it was just her or a Charles thing, but he stayed quiet. Unusual for a man that had so much to say. But then again, with what they’ve already been through, she couldn’t imagine he was feeling very chatty. She certainly wouldn’t have been in his situation. Granted, she would be feeling the same way now, but in her predicament by this point, she wouldn’t mind someone else’s verbal company.

The second he guided her through the bedroom

door, she began to take in the sheer size of the room, feeling bigger than life itself in the way that she was feeling. The bed was even better; huge and looked as though the softness of it would swallow her into a warm hug. Her first instinct would have been to jump right onto it, but the fact that Charles ceased to leave and instead remained planted there, giving her a look she couldn’t make out once she turned to face him, made her fight against her urges.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to utter an “Are you alright?” but never got the chance. Instead, Charles spoke as soon as her mouth opened, slowly, as if to make sure she understood every word he was saying like she had been incapable of doing so before, “Training starts tonight, but I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

With her brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded, and Charles began to walk away. He stopped by the frame of the door, back to her, and spoke again, “Try and get some rest.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Now, she was left in the room alone, tiredness washing over her. Awaiting the next day, she decided to fall into the cloud that was the bed and fall asleep while she could.

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

The next morning was when Charles asked to see her - by Raven. The young woman led her over to a room, an odd dome shaped one, where Charles stood waiting. He wasn’t the same as the night before - uncomfortable, was the only way she knew to describe it - welcoming and encouraging.

“We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Charles spoke, hands in his pockets, as she entered and Raven excused herself elsewhere. Looking around, she could see evidence that training had started last night, namely Alex’s. Dark scuff marks were streaked across walls of the dome on the end farthest from them and small balls of fluff on the floor remained, assumingly left behind in the midst of a quick clean up of training dummies that had been torn open.

Despite the mess, several other objects were placed across the floor. All ranged from light to heavy. Chairs, weights - it looked to be anything he could have been capable of carrying in with the help of the others.

She stopped in front of him. “What’s this?”

The man’s smile widened before he started, rather loudly at that. “Well.” He moved towards the objects then spun around to face her, arms outstretched. “This is the beginning of your training.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the man unimpressed. “You want me to move this stuff around?”

“You’re not just moving stuff around.” Charles shook his head, arms dropping to his sides as he declared. “You don’t need to move everything here. I only need to see how much you can handle.” His head tilted as he looked at her, blue eyes meeting her own as his expression retreated to one of curiosity. “And how you handle it.”

She didn’t think the professor was aware of the innuendo within the situation, so she let it go despite the sweet stomach dropping feeling that came over her. Instead, she shrugged. “Then what?”

“Then,” Charles hesitated for a moment, “Erik was able to move a satellite dish. If it happens to be possible-”

“A satellite dish?” She laughed incredulously, “You can be serious.”

Charles nodded towards her, challenging her statements as he took a few steps forward. “And what is it that’s making you believe you’re incapable of doing anything similar?”

“Look.” She shook her head, looking directly at him when she said, “I can move the average household item, shut a door and maybe, just maybe, bust it down, but I couldn’t push your couch across the room, let alone move a fu- a satellite dish.”

Charles’ brows furrowed. “And that’s what you believe?”

She hummed. “That’s what I know.”

“Well,” he sighed, disappointment written across his face that sent her into a spiral, “There’s not much we can do if you don’t believe you can better yourself, is there?”

The second he walked past her was when it felt as though ice water had been spilt onto her. A mixture of confusion and gloom washed over her before she turned to see Charles’ back, still moving towards the door. “What?”

He stopped in his tracks at her exclamation, waiting several moments as if contemplating before he turned back to her. Carefully, he asked, “Why do you take them?”

She shook her head, looking almost offended. “How did you-”

“Your mind,” Charles confirmed, “It gets quieter.”

The offence on her face never ceased, but the uncomfortable mixture of feelings she was overwhelmed with had her shrug in response to his question. Charles only nodded and gave her a tight smile before turning back.

She closed her eyes, resigning herself with huff. She could go back to the life she had come to know and hate, or she could take the second chance he was giving her even if it did include the prospect of some suffering.

“I don’t take them for fun.” The sound of her voice made Charles stop again. This time, he waited. “When I touch a person I don’t just take every experience. I take every memory.”

He turned around to face her once more and gave her nod, signalling her to continue. She breathed in and out. “I see and I feel everything that’s happened to them. That’s a lot and it’s enough, but that’s not why I-”

She cut herself off, feeling herself choke on the words before shaking her head and persisting herself on despite Charles’ look of concern. “I take them because, when I take their memories, I take all of their thoughts too. Every one. So every thought of murder, or rape, or suicide, or any fucked up thing, keeps tearing me apart from the inside out.”

Charles nodded, walking closer to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, sympathy written deep in his soft voice, “And they scare you.”

She shook her head. Looking away from him for a moment, she willed away tears she felt gathering. She turned back to him. “The thought of acting on them scares me.”

Although slightly taken aback by the revelation, Charles holds his composure. He nodded before opening his mouth to respond, walking closer as he began.

The only reaction he got was her taking a step back, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not a bad person.” Charles assumed she didn’t want him touching her - considering she took away every thought. “I’m always all these people at once - I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then we will figure it out.” Charles tilted his head, making sure her eyes met his when she attempted to look away. His voice was soft and reassuring to her ears, even if she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “You aren’t alone, Y/N.”

As it turns, the drugs were having a large effect on her ability to use her powers - the next few days told her as much. By no means was she capable of moving a satellite dish, but she had been able to take her powers to lengths she never thought she could have been able to.

Most of it was due to Charles - he’d spent most of the next few days with her, pushing her, sometimes to the point where she’d snap at him. She always calmed, though, and Charles always remained coolheaded.

Still, they grew closer. Or at least she grew closer to him. She couldn’t tell if the praise, the laughs, the banter, and the willingness to come back together after a fight only meant something to her. She hoped it did - because why else wouldn’t he just give up on her? All that time spent on advancing her powers to defeat Shaw, and he still talked about helping her as though their relationship would continue past this mission.

Part of her wanted to touch him so she could just know. Even if he hadn’t taken such a liking to her as she had him, at the very least try to understand him in his entirety and make a space for herself in his life. Then, another part of her was horrified at what she would find in there.

For the time being, there wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on it. The day they would head out was coming soon, and Erik suggested the group get a good night’s rest. They would all need it.

With her luck, she didn’t know why she thought that sleep would come easy that night. Whether it was due to adrenaline, anxiety, or anything else, didn’t matter. Because whatever was keeping her up had her pacing the hallways of Charles’ estate that night.

She wasn’t looking for it, but instead happened upon a conversation.

“… no difference. Shaw’s declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped.” She heard Charles’ voice through a door as she passed by. Although knowing that he could probably make out the sound of her mind from a mile away, she still stopped by it. She grew even more curious when she heard Erik’s voice.

“I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?” A moment of silence passed and she shifted on her feet. It made the floor creek. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, nervous, expecting to hear the sound of one of their footsteps coming to open the door and catch her eavesdropping. Whether they heard or not, she didn’t know as Erik continued on, “You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred.”

“Not if we stop a war,” Charles’ voice wavered on a line of urgency and assurance, “Not if we can prevent Shaw. Not if we risk our lives doing so.”

Charles very well could have been doing nothing but reassuring Erik with his words, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually trying to reassure himself. As if the world wouldn’t either discard or abuse them once they’ve served their purpose of their betterment.

“Will they do the same for us?”

“We have it in us to be the better men.”

“We already are.” Erik’s voice quickly turned from calm to urgent when he next spoke. “We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself!”

“No, no!” She heard Charles attempt to cut Erik off before he sighed. She could practically hear the disappointment in it, although she couldn’t say she felt the same. He only let Erik continue.

“Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?” She heard him pause. “Or is it arrogance?”

“I’m sorry?” As if Charles had misheard him.

She shifted on her feet once more as their voices became more hushed, despite the feeling coming from the room becoming more hostile than calm. This time, she was more careful. Nothing made a sound below her feet when she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against it, as well as her left palm for support.

“After tomorrow, they're gonna turn us. But you're blind to it, because you believe they're all like Moira.”

“And you believe they're all like Shaw.” Came Charles’ immediate response. Calmly, she heard him continue, “Listen to me very carefully my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik’s voice never wavered when he told Charles, “Peace was never an option.”

Footsteps came far too fast for her to move away from the door. In a split second, she found herself leaning against the door to crashing into Erik’s chest when he pulled the door open. For a moment, Erik stood staring down at her, watching her attempt to recompose herself and attempt to apologize. She didn’t get a word out before he moved past her and walked away.

She watched his form retreat before she turned back to the room. Standing in the doorway, she saw Charles sitting in the chair facing away from her. With his eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “You realize I can hear your mind from across this house?”

She took a step in, almost reluctantly. She didn’t imagine Charles would be content with anything she had to say, but maybe she could make him understand. “Erik’s right, you know.”

Her words had Charles’ eyes snap open. He got out the chair, setting down the drink he was nursing on the table next to him, before he turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Peace isn’t an option ‘cause we’re never gonna get peace.” She shook her head, desperation in both her voice and eyes as she stared into his. “Erik thinks they’re gonna turn on us. They might not, but it doesn’t mean any of us will get any peace. They won’t all be like Shaw, they won��t all be like Moira, but most of them - most of them will just be human. They’ll fear us and they’ll judge us. It doesn’t matter how harmless we are or not.”

She watched as Charles took a step forward, his head tilting to the side, expression unreadable as his voice remained calm. “You can’t be serious.” It was a statement - a wrong one.

“Shaw needs to die,” She spoke with assurance. She felt her eyes fill with tears, Charles watching her suck in a breath and release as he began to walk closer to her, before she spoke in a whisper, no longer trusting her voice, “Shaw needs to die for what he did to us. We’re going to kill him, Charles.”

They’re faces we’re merely inches apart, chilling her to the bone as he looked at her. What she thought he would never do is what he tried the second he began to raise his hand, speaking quickly to her when he asked, “Us?”

His hand almost cupped her cheek when she turned her head away from it. Immediately, his hand froze. Charles watched her profile as more tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. Voice weak and tearful, staring away from him, she pleaded, “Please don’t confuse me. I can’t-”

“I know you feel it,” Charles’ other hand came up to guide her face back to him despite her, whispering carefully, “But it is not your cross to bear.”

His hand was warm against her cheek. Comforting - enough to make her mind go blank. Wishful thinking, of course, because soon the clawing in her head would come back with a vengeance at having a man such as Charles touch her. For now, though, he felt safe. Stable. Enough so that she could close her eyes for a moment and let the tears fall as he leaned down to her and let his forehead press against hers.

“You can’t help but feel his pain,” She felt his breath against her lips as he spoke, his voice the same soft and soothing as she’s known it to be, “But you can decide what you do with it.”

She shook her head gently and pulled away, but still letting Charles’ hand rest against her cheek. “It’s not just-” she whispered to him, mouth feeling dry as her eyes avoided his, trying to piece her thoughts together. His hand slid down to the base of her neck, guiding her eyes to his. She licked her lips before she swallowed. “I barely knew Darwin, but he killed him right in front of us. And it was cruel and scary and I couldn’t even make myself look at it when it happened.”

“I know.” Charles brought his other hand up to brush away slow falling tears she hadn’t even known began to escape. He voiced nothing but concern, letting her continue as if he knew what she was going to say next.

Her hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, not to pull his hands away from her, but to simply hold onto them. Almost as if they were an anchor to make up for the tears she now felt were falling faster down her face as she realized. “For the first time, I think I want something, I feel this anger and fear, because of my head. I saw it first and I felt it first. It’s mine, and now I have a real responsibility to take care of it.”

“Not with murder.” Her hands tightened around his wrists as he brought her face closer to his own. A frown on his face as he desperately told her, “I meant it when I told you that we would figure this out together. You told me you were never your own person, that you don’t even know yourself. We were - we are - going to bring you into existence. I beg you, Y/N, don’t let yourself be brought into this world as a murderer.”

His words, as beautiful as they were, only half registered within her brain. All she found herself focusing on then was how close he was. She would think back later and come to realize that it was because the only thing making her tears stop and giving her the will not to commit a murder was the prospect of approval she would get from a man like him. From someone who could never understand her struggle, someone who never tried to or tried to make her feel as though there was some way out. From someone who wanted to build on it and show her the strength she could find within it.

Realistically, she knew he would have a few words for her if she ever outwardly admitted to him that she used approval as a means for bettering herself, but it was the best she could do at the time being.

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched her face, spaced out and regarding him with an expression not even he could read. Somewhere deep down, though, he knew he had gotten through to her. His lips curled up slightly, speaking lowly with amusement evident in his voice, “Now where did you go?”

Her eyes shot from his lips to his eyes once more. As quick as they made eye contact, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. Lips soft, she kissed him carefully, one hand moving to cup his face. Only in the last few moments did he respond to it by kissing back.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously and letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. Her mouth was dry again. “I’m sorry-”

She was cut off by Charles’ lips on hers once more. She kissed back instantly, sighing into the kiss in content. Feeling Charles smirk against her lips and deepen the kiss, she put both hands behind his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulling slightly as he let his hands trail down her body to her waist, pulling her to make sure there wasn’t the slightest gap between their bodies.

Their lips broke apart, but only long enough to allow for a quick breath. Charles pushed his lips back into hers as her hands snaked down to the collar of his dress shirt, playing carefully with the top button.

Eventually, their lips broke apart as they caught their breath. Bodies still pressed together, Charles leant forward to rest his forehead onto hers, her eyes still close, for a moment before pressing a kiss to it. He placed his chin on top of her head and rested there, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she felt him - anticipating what it would feel like to feel nothing but him.

#x-men #x-men first class #x-men days of future past #x-men apocalypse #x-men dark phoenix #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier one-shot #x-men imagine #x-men one-shot #charles xavier #erik lensherr #raven #mystique #sean #angel #hank mccoy #james mcavoy #michael fassbender

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uchiha-7thsingularity · 2 years ago

Text

Confrontational Mementos

This is my first time posting for last legacy. I wanted to work on my writing and give to the fandom some Felix content. A little bit of angst, fluff, and anxiety mentioned. This presents a little background story of Mc having a past with Felix as well but I tried to keep it genderneutral.

Do I like him?

Can we share a single moment?

…...What about home….?

…….!!

A welted white rose dangles from my left hand, as I bite the tip of my thumb with my fanged teeth. The breeze whips strands of baby hair into my frigid complexion to match the icy situation. Laid out across the bench outside Blackthorns' botanical garden I swallow an outcry to stop my overthinking.

Overall, I can't help but repeat the memories of him flashing within my vision like a firefly swarming in the garden air from when we use to catch them as clueless kids. His shy smile tells a thousand unsaid words. Greyish glares of exhaustion never remain, rather morph into a mischievous smirk as we start to utter anything on the tip of our tongues. Nimble hands with a motive that forever scrambles to prove a point during our magic lessons.

I could keep going or stop and ignore the truth in front of myself. Selfless as I am most times; I exhibit the smile and bright openings, different personalities I've made for myself over the years to express the real me to others all wrapped up in one broken body. Sarcastic, reckless, comedic, hateful, caring, or ….. Oh, so kind. Shortly, I straighten up on the bench a little light-headed. "Which side of myself did he idolize most?", tears stream down my face curving my throat only to soak the gravel beneath the sole of my feet. Darkness sweeps shards of my blackened heart within this shattered body of mine.

(Can't breathe!)... (Breath!)......

….(Someone, anyone, ...Please, do not leave me again!!)

With a final gasp of air, I fall to my knees letting gravity tug a hopeless soul, to let mother nature do her bidding. Nothing seems to transpire with my head inches above the ground up til a steady alluring voice comes from behind me with heavy footsteps toward my washed figure. "Mc! Did you hurt yourself?! Did something happen? Can you stand on your feet?", Felix says with utter panic and frustration. He gently rubs my shoulders as his confused scrunched-up face peers at my teared soaked face. I can't help but push him off and avoid eye contact. The feel of his stare is too much as I try to regain a subtle composure and dignity. Then, I turn with a smile to mask the anxiety ready to burst. No matter the precautions I put up to push everyone away to not be a burden. Somehow, he is the one and only to collapse the walls I barricaded my true self brick by brick.

"Sorry. Just needed air for a minute. I'm fine now, let's go back inside and catch up with Florian, Scylla, Sage, and Anisa." With a spring in my step, I wipe the tears to make my statement true. This fuels the tears gushing in the back of my eyelids. Every step I take back to the mansion is hefty until my wrist is yanked back.

"Why can't you trust me with the truth?", he looks at me with such intensity I blank for a response.

All I can think to do is bite my tongue to assure him like everyone I even remember that I am fine. (Stop lying and tell him the truth…!)

The necromancer's face washes with desperation hence he speaks, "Is it about anything I have said to you before? Did anyone threaten you, again? His face burns when he sputters his next set of questions. I-Is it….t-that you have fell ill or homesick? If so, I can assemble a gift basket with the necessary healing acquirements … I just need to get you inside to rest your body." My eyes grow wide to stare at this man's red-tinted blush spread across his freckled skin.

……."What! I snort. "That is NOT the problem but thank you for the concern.", I assure him while whacking him across the shoulder. He stammers back withdrawn to a shocked look morphing into pure confusion. Slowly I regain my calmed voice, "Every time I think we are ready to fix this fucked up nightmare."

"Life knocks us down.

Enemies strike from all directions.

Trails lead to heartbreak."

"At the end of the day…..going back to my world leads to being alone again....for me at least. Not entirely alone. The moral of the story, a world without the star sworn or Stella is a tragedy. Then knowing that there is a chance YOU will go back to not existing in my world breaks my heart more than you can know."I sniffle. "And you know everything!" After the reality of those words sinks for a bit as I sob uncontrollably into my sleeve. Usually, crying in public is a BIG no for me. (It hurts! My heart is withering to coal, to ash, to nothing.) Never have I felt so alone in a world I remember is digital but makes me feel like I'm living for once in my lonesome life. Going back to earth would mean I can't go on wild adventures with someone who could be my possible soulmate. Not even to be able to pet Stella or cry into her fur when I am hopelessly in love with a thoughtful, generous, and lovable soul.

Therefore, my sobs lead to me wiping my nose with my sleeves. "We have been through stuff. I get that much, *cough*, except I am so tired of wearing a stupid mask.", I speak shortly to maintain the whimpers. "This year was unexpected for me and a burden to you and everyone around me. You were right the first time I should have departed to find a way out but I didn't want to leave you behind. Not out of pity rather I've been left behind all my existence and it never gets less painful. I was wrong Felix to promise I would never leave you; except, to be honest, I'm a living mess. Which means you were all wrong to put your faith in me when you guys say I'm perfect. I am the opposite of PERFECT. Every time anyone thinks they see me for me it just leads toward breaking my spirit. Go ahead, enjoy the victorious self-righteous you spew daily about being the master debater." He stays tight-lipped to leave the echo of my words to stain the damped air. (Another person who will leave me.)

With a roll of my eyes, I turn to leave him to go fix my blotchy face. "Mc!" I can hear his footsteps behind me, but neither his voice nor his running keeps me at bay. The echo of our hurried steps bounces off the walls of the Blackthorn foyer to leave nothing but silence after.

Then he shouts the one thing I never expected to hear leave his lips, "We made a vow together, barista. I send you back home and you stay by my side till then. And… I would be condemned to hell if I let anyone make us break our vow; even ourselves. Please! His thin cool fingers snatch my wrist once more to turn me toward him." What you said out there just now is valid and will never be silenced. I indeed made you promise to stay by my side even if you had the choice to leave." I click my tongue.

He continues nonetheless. "You have a choice!" He looks at me as if I will slap him on the back again. You came into my life that I needed you most to learn to live again on my terms and no one else. Every feeling, thought, or action that led us together is what makes us change for the better. I'm glad you told me who you are. Now and forever will work together to unmask each others true selves and make those our secret expeditions. I lean into his figure to feel his embrace full of love and affection pouring from him with tears staining his coat.

(He looks like the boy I first discovered all those years we had met. Yet, only I remember those memories.) He's rubbing circles on my back as he whispers into my ear, "After everything we encountered you're keen to push me away as I did to everyone in the last five years before I met you!"

"That's a common thing we share!", I giggle along with Felix. "You, my good sir, stand tall because you know who you are already. Each day you show me and anyone that you're capable with or without your magic. Not ONCE did you ever waver!" I heave a breath to regain my composure. Without thought, I blurt, "How come we have to suffer? While we forfeit all we had to only be … lonely." Teardrops splatter onto his shoulder with my myriad failed attempts to stop them. Yet, his grip only tightens around me as I bury my face in the crook of his neck. His scent is intoxicating with raindrops and pomegranate wafting my nostrils.

Suddenly, he pats my head softly. "The reason I didn't see your pain was because I chose not to see the vulnerable side of you." Felix keeps holding me as I try to wiggle out to not get snot on his trimmed black coat. "Then I reckon you just leave me now", I sniffle into his freckled neck. He pushes me back to look at me fully. All I can do is look into his greyish pupils with such pain and love.

"Barista, sorry isn't enough to fix what I sowed." He wavers. "In other words, no matter the consequences and losses we face in the future I Love you more than Life and Death itself." We both stare at each other in the most awkward atmosphere we have ever been in. "Y-you don't have to… say it back...I-I, he bites his pale bottom lip to shut himself up rather looking like a tomato.

Wiping my tear-streaked face I wrap him in a tight hug. In a heartbeat of a second I whisper, I love you too, my emo prince!" At that moment we pull apart to peer at each other with no one to stop two broken souls with broken hearts sewn together. We both lean into each other with gentleness to only drown in passion. The memory of his soft lips on mine felt like the renewal of two souls shifting into one. He tasted of sugar cubes with a hint of Jasmine. Each word said before was washed away by pleasure and pain mixed in passionate rhythm. My hands grasp his purple/brown sloppy hair as he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me into him. His tongue flicked across my teeth teasing me in his feverish attempt. Tugging his hair, he groans for a second to proceed to massage my waist with his palms. The kiss soaked a wave of excitement over us in one fell swoop.

Soon we pull apart flushed to be left with the option of bumping foreheads. Then, as if he read my mind like the tarots, we both grumble, "We should have more confrontations often". Laughter is only heard for the rest of the day in Blackthorne, as some would say, as two star-crossed lovers reflected on that hallowed day.

#Last legacy fictif #Felix x reader #Felix iskander escellun #felix escellun #gender neutral reader #fictif games #fictif

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gh0stwriting · 3 years ago

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Hey! I was hoping I can make a request? The request is a Jason x reader? Where the reader is already having a really bad day and coming home acting like they are fine. Fast forward when it comes down to bedtime Jason trying to comfort them but, again they are acting like they are fine. Up until they turn around, pulls the sheets down to their head, and have a break down right next to him. Thank you so much if you do my request!🥺

(1/9 for the motivation burst and i feel like this ones kinda stinky, also i hope nobody feels intimidated or smth to send a request, i genuinely love reading and writing your ideas)

JASON VOORHEES X SAD READER

Yet another shitty day at camp crystal lake, this is the third time this week a mother has called your supervisor to complain about hurting their precious child, which you didn’t. your supervisor chose to take the delusional womans side and fired you on the spot, leaving you with no incoming funds and bills that now can’t be paid.

You trudge into your cabin, dropping your bag and kicking your shoes into a corner before unceremoniously flopping on the old couch, the springs creaking loudly at the sudden weight. you sit in a numbed silence for what only feels like a handful of seconds before you hear the floorboards creak behind you, indicating your boyfriends arrival. you grit your teeth as you know whats coming next, the second he looks at your face he’ll know whats going on as he’s always been that way, able to decipher emotions pretty easily despite not showing many himself.

As predicted he takes a cautious seat next to you and immediately takes one of your hands in both of his as a silent question of sorts. “Nothing’s wrong, the campers were just extra hyper today so i’m a little tired, i was just going to make some food-“ you interrupt yourself with a not so graceful yawn “and then head to bed, are you hungry?” you finish, leaning your head on his shoulder while you debate if you truly have enough energy to cook tonight. you feel the rigid plastic of his mask brush against your head as you assume he’s saying no and force yourself to your feet, trudging into the kitchen with Jason in tow.

You scour your shelves and decide on instant noodles as you definitely don’t have the patience to cook anything more at this hour, you pour water into your battered and old kettle and turn on the stove before leaning against the counter. you run your hands through your hair with a sigh and glance up at Jason, “what? why are you staring at me like that?” he looks around for a second, simultaneously looking deep in thought and confused before jerkily signing, <<You. Hurt.>>, you sigh and shake your head “i promise, i’m alright, can we just drop it?”.

As you finish your sentence the kettle starts whistling and you assemble what has to be the saddest dinner you’ve had in a while. Jason seems to disappear into the cabin while you eat so you finish quickly and shuffle to your shared bedroom, almost startled to see Jason in there as you half hoped he had gone out. you change into your pyjamas and haphazardly toss your dirty counsellor uniform into a corner before flopping on the bed, the old springs squeaking in protest of the sudden weight.

Jason doesn’t turn to face you immediately as he usually does, so you assume he fell asleep and you finally let the dam break. tears start burning your eyes and pouring down your face as your body racks with sobs, and all you can manage to do is weakly grip the blanket as you let out a shitty days worth of pent up emotions.

The longer you sit there, the more your mind runs rampant. you question everything from why your coworkers would treat you the way they had, to doubting something so incredibly genuine as Jason’s love for you, each thought making your brain spiral deeper and deeper into self-doubt. this continues for what feels like hours until your body finally collapses from exhaustion and you fall asleep, but in the last seconds of your consciousness you feel Jason’s arms slip around you and hold you tight, almost like a reassurance of better things to come. you truly couldn’t ask for anyone better.

#slasher imagine #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the thirteenth #ask #alittlebodywithabigheart #<- asker

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natsu-tte-noodle · 3 years ago

Text

A3! Translation: The Suffering Fairy's Inspiration (Captive Fairy) [2/3]

The translation is under the cut. If you see anything that doesn’t seem right, please let me know!

[Part 1] [Part 2 - You’re Here!] [Part 3]

Tsuzuru: Hmmm… this isn’t going well at all...

Tsuzuru: (A fairy theme is harder than I thought it’d be…)

Tsuzuru: Haah… might as well take a break…

ー

Tsuzuru: Huff...

Itaru: GJ Tsuzuru. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.

Izumi: Tsuzuru-kun, are you ok? You should take a break for a little.

Izumi: I’ll pour you a warm drink, so wait a moment.

Tsuzuru: Thank you.

ー

Itaru: So, what’s up? With those circles.

Tsuzuru: I haven’t been making any progress on the script that we took the offer for.

Itaru: Ahh, right, you’re writing a script with a fairy theme.

Tsuzuru: Yeah. I need to have an animal fairy, a plant fairy, and a flower fairy appear as the main cast, but...

Tsuzuru: The more I think about it, the more I get hung up on the little details of stuff like what a fairy is.

Tsuzuru: For the story’s outline too, I have a general idea for the feel it should have, but it’s not coming together at all...

Itaru: Hmmm.

Itaru: ...ah.

Itaru: Dunno if it’ll be useful, but why don’t we play this together? You too, Director-san.

Izumi: By “this”, you mean a smartphone game?

Itaru: Yep. Download this app. It’s an action RPG where fairies appear as your companions.

Itaru: You can do solo play, but you can assemble a 3-person team to advance the game too.

Tsuzuru: What’s it about?

Itaru: To put it simply, the objective is to save the fairy world from demons.

Itaru: The setting is that the players are summoned from this world by the fairies and become heroes.

Itaru: With the same fairy setting, maybe it’ll be a reference for your script, so why don’t you try playing it for now?

ー

Tsuzuru: Uwah, an attack!

Izumi: Itaru-san, what should we do!?

Itaru: Calm down, you two. I’ll go on the offensive, so you two cover me.

Izumi: O-Ok!

Itaru: Yes, crushed ‘em!

Tsuzuru: Hey, we can get advice from the fairies too.

Itaru: Yep. Making good use of the fairies’ advice is the trick to progressing efficiently.

Itaru: Let’s continue the quest like this.

Izumi: (Somehow it feels like we’re getting swept up in Itaru-san’s pace…)

ー

Itaru: Hell yeah! Got a super rare drop~♪ You can’t get this reward if you’re not doing a 3-person play.

Izumi: Eh!? Was that your goal?

Itaru: Ah… no no, that’s not it.

Itaru: I really did think that if he played a game with fairies in it, it’d give Tsuzuru some inspiration.

Tsuzuru: Well, when we were invited to the game, I was slightly wondering if you had some ulterior motive.

Tsuzuru: But thanks to that, somehow I feel like I can get a grasp of it.

Itaru: Fairies are in fantasy and don’t actually exist, so why don’t you freely write the fairies that you imagine, Tsuzuru?

Tsuzuru: ...you’re right.

～

CHOOSE!

1. I’m looking forward to the world you’ll create, Tsuzuru-kun

Izumi: Now I’m looking forward to the world you’ll create, Tsuzuru-kun.

Tsuzuru: What a world with fairies in it would be like wasn’t coming together in my head, but...

Tsuzuru: Having tried out the game, somehow I’ve gotten a clearer image about it.

Itaru: So, games are pretty useful too, right?

Tsuzuru: Yeah. But, sorry, I’m not playing until you clear it.

Izumi: Ahaha, you can say that again.

Itaru: You two still don’t understand the depth of games.

～

2. Fantasy is tough, huh

Izumi: Fantasy is surprisingly difficult, huh.

Tsuzuru: It’s more like, it’s BECAUSE I have freedom that getting a hold on the outline of the world I want to imagine is tough…

Tsuzuru: Maybe I’m thinking too seriously about it.

Itaru: Isn’t it alright for you to relax a little more?

Izumi: Since it’s you, Tsuzuru-kun, I think you’ll be able to write a wonderful story.

～

Tsuzuru: Director and Itaru-san, thanks a lot. I’ll do my best and write this!

Izumi: Work hard, but don’t overdo it!

#a3!#tsuzuru minagi #itaru chigasaki #izumi tachibana #a3 translation

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saphirered · 3 years ago

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Hai I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do more verin x reader, like how would he react after finding out about essek, and he searched for him then he met the m9 and reader ?

Hope this turned out the way you wanted it! 😘

After the disappearance of his brother, Verin could simply not let it go. The Shadowhand disappeared from Exandria’s surface overnight without a word of warning. No traces left. No signs of a struggle that may indicate his enemies having gotten to him. Why would Essek leave everything behind willingly? Everything he gave his life for in service of the Bright Queen and the Kryn Dynasty? There had been suspicions about a traitor amidst the Bright Queen’s court but Verin simply refused to believe that to be Essek. His brother would never… Would he?

Verin, much like his brother is resourceful and shares a similar determination to reach a goal by any means necessary. That goal right now; finding Essek. Verin’s unsure what he will do once he finds his brother. There’s so many questions… But what if the rumours are true? No. He can’t think like that just yet. He will not tarnish that reputation through speculations. He needs answers first. He needs to find Essek.

Months of searching, following whatever traces he could find. Verin had to look to the past any ties before Essek’s disappearance. That lead to a group of strangers. A colourful bunch of chaotic individuals seemingly defying all odds when faced with them. Verin may not be able to track Essek but he could try and find these people… The Mighty Nein.

————

Heavy bag over one shoulder dressed in fine clothes you stroll through low-lit halls flanked by two guards. Radiating a sense of authority and sternness you stop in front the metal bars, on the other side a redhead leaning back against the wall looking up at you innocently without a single worry.

“Master Widogast, I’ve been told you’re here on suspicions of corrupting the minds of your students. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You address your friend. This never ends. Caleb gets himself arrested because someone finds out what he’s allegedly been teaching at the Academy. He’s dragged off to a holding cell and your disturbed amidst your work day to get him out again. This time you’ve made him wait though. You had an important meeting you couldn’t get out.

“It’s all just a mistake. You’ll find my students can vouch for me and prove this misunderstanding to be nothing more than part of the curriculum of theoretical transmutation.” You dig through your bag, take out a scroll and hand it to one of the guards. The guards reads it over awaiting your command.

“Well, hurry up! Release this man before I have you written up for unlawfully keeping one of the Soltryce Academy’s most beloved teachers.” The guard quickly jumbles with the keys and the barred door is unlocked. Caleb gets up and you step aside to allow him to exit. The guards wait, not entirely sure what to do next. What did you expect of newbies…

“Are you really going to stand around loitering? Back to work.” The guards scurry off and you and Caleb walk next to each other exiting the building and into the streets. Once you’re both in the clear you drop your more rigid behaviour and punch the wizard in the shoulder.

“What was that for?” He exclaims rubbing his arm. That’s gonna bruise.

“The only reason I took this job is to get you and the others out of trouble when you inevitably got yourself in a mess again but between Beau’s bar fights and your borderline treason, I swear you’ll be the ones that will lose me my job.” You’re only half serious. You can’t count the times you’ve had to bail the Nein out for their antics and have definitely been abusing your newfound power to do so. The king might be an asshole but at least the pay is good and the benefits better.

Reaching your destination, wizard at your side discussing who might have spilled the beans on Caleb’s rather liberal teachings you open the low fence to the garden. In the garden you’re met with the familiar disguise of your friend Essek, sunhat to guard him from the harsh sunlight, gardening gloves on harvesting some vegetables. Upon seeing you he grabs the basket next to him and joins the two of you with a smile.

“While I’d hoped this wouldn’t become a habit, thank you, for getting Caleb out trouble, again. Your endless efforts are certainly appreciated. We are in your debt many times over.” The disguised drow sends the redhead a loving glance as he addresses you.

“And don’t you forget it. One day I might come and collect.” You grin at Essek with the pleasure of turning his own words against him. Of course you didn’t mean them. They’re your friends and you’ll never seriously ask for anything in return for anything they ask of you.

“Clever.” Essek speaks sarcastically smiling at your comment.

“But if you feel inclined to repay me for my hard work, you can make sure you’re both on time for dinner tonight. The gang’s getting back together and you’re expected.” Essek hands you the basket he’s carrying providing you with the resources of a home cooked meal for the gathering of the evening. It’s been a while since everyone’s been at the same place the same time.

“I’ll do what I can but I make no promises.”

“All, I can ask for.” You turn your attention to Caleb. “That reminds me.” A quick inconspicuous motion of your hands allows you to summon a small stack of papers. Another perk of your job; getting information the higher ups want to keep to themselves. Luckily a lot of them have assistants that are much easier to get that information from.

“Beau and you can get back to work. But not tonight! Tonight’s work free, for all of us.” Caleb quickly leafs through the ledgers you’ve handed him.

“You know, if you ever grow bored of the court life, you can always join me in teaching free thinking and magic at the Academy…” Caleb jokes as you pick up the basket ready to leave the wizards to the rest of their day.

“And who’s gone bail us both out then?” You laugh over your shoulder closing the fence behind you. Back to your home and prepare for the evening. You can’t help but feel like you’re being followed. You pay close attention to the shadows and for just a moment you’re sure you see something, or rather someone. Choosing not to pursue you continue on to your home. It’s not like your place of residence is a secret to anyone.

————

The house is noisy, happy chatting and laughter fills the dining room. How you’ve missed this. The table has been set, plates, cutlery and all, a multitude of decanters and bottles ready and filled, and plates and platers filled with food are added one by one. There’s something for everyone, everyone’s favourites.

“Yasha, can you take the cupcakes out of the oven for me?” You ask the barbarian wearing her floral embroidered apron stirring a pan on the stove as you plate the smoked pork. Yasha plates the baked goods by flavour and carries the tray to the dining room as you follow behind with your platter. Cheers erupt from the rest of the Nein as you and Yasha place the final dishes on the table. Everyone takes their seats and digs in pouring themselves drinks, taking whatever they desired, happily conversing about what everyone’s been up to in the past few months, talking about new plans for the future and the nostalgic adventures of the past together. You’ll have to get back to that some day. Maybe soon?

Despite the happiness of the whole event you still can’t get over this feeling you’re being watched. It’s not scrying, your home is protected from it and you feel safe to assume it’s not anyone from the Assembly or the king’s council. So who is it?

————

Verin watches the group as they enjoy their feast, his brother among them. He looks happy and content, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. Is this what he left Xhorhas for? He always wanted more, so how could Essek be content with a normal life? No matter the motives he’s loved, they’re his friends, something he never truly had before.

Then talks about the beacons came up. Mentions of the past missing ones and newfound ones. Aeor and its connection to Dunamis long before the Dynasty. The theoretics and potential of the beacons and the continued pursuit of studying them. Within the Dynasty this could be considered sacrilegious. And it made it look more and more Essek was guilt of the treason others suspected him of. His brother was a traitor and a disgrace in the eyes of the Dynasty and his family.

So why does Verin feel like none of that matters? He should be angry. He should dispose of his brother right here, right now in the name of the Bright Queen. But he can’t bring himself to it. His brother is happy, fought free from the expectations of others and the demanded unwavering loyalty to the Luxon and the Dynasty. Essek did exactly what he couldn’t.

————

You excuse yourself from the table making an excuse about checking on dessert and retreating to the kitchen alone. This feeling of being watched was getting on your nerves but tonight should be one without trouble and conflict. You’ll figure out if this watcher in the shadows poses a danger to you and your friends, if so you’ll dispose of them. If it can be postponed until tomorrow, then tomorrow you’ll deal with it but not tonight. Tonight is about peace, friends and family getting back together.

So when you reach the kitchen you open the window taking out the lattice work pies and cakes you’d made and left to rest and cool down before the Nein’s arrival. You get the batter you made and begin making some waffles. While you wait for them to be done you hum to yourself and sit in the open windowsill looking out over the city, inconspicuously looking around for your uninvited guest. The first batch is done and they haven’t showed up yet. Alright, you’ll make a second batch and some extra whipped cream while you’re at it.

Then you catch a glimpse of a shadow. You can’t make out all the details but the attire and a flash of pristine white hair leaves you to think it’s a drow. Thinking on your feet you cast hold person but the drow remains unaffected. Before you know it you’re pushed a few steps back into your kitchen. Supporting himself on the windowsill he holds a finely made blade to your throat. You lift your hands in surrender showing you have no ill intend…yet and are willing to talk and listen.

“My quarrel is not with you but one wrong move and I will not hesitate, mage.” The drow threatens you. You don’t doubt his words but this isn’t your first rodeo. If he tries anything he’s in for a fight. Getting a closer look you study the man’s features. There’s a sense of familiarity and you’re quick to conclude he must be related to Essek in some way. Broader build and longer hair but same features and eyes. He’s probably a fair bit taller too standing up straight instead of crouched in a windowsill.

“Perhaps not but it might be if you do not get out of my windowsill in the next few seconds.”

“Is that a threat?” He pushes the blade a little closer and you feel the cold steel against your skin, one move and it cuts.

“No. But take a look outside. You’ll see the torchlight of the guard patrol. Get inside.” A quick glance over his shoulder gives you the chance to take a step back from the drow and pick up your whipped cream and continue whisking before it loses its structure. He jumps inside and away from the window as you whisk completely indifferent to the fact a stranger just held a sword to your neck and entered your home even with your invitation.

“You must be Verin Thelyss.” You state putting the now finished whipped cream in the ice box. Verin stands there wary of you, expecting you to make a move and attack him at any second but you’re not and even from your demeanour he can gather you have no ill intent towards him. Not at all what he expected, but then again he didn’t expect to find his brother in the capital of the enemy nation of the Dynasty having dinner with a bunch of (previous) adventurers, some of which holding ranks within the Empire no less.

“You’re questioning my motives and calmness.” You lean against the counter crossing your arms. Verin lowers the blade but you’re unsure if it is because of defeat or he doesn’t see the purpose in holding you at sword point any longer.

“Why not just let me be caught by your guards? Why invite me inside your home?” Verin watches your every move, every twitch. You can see the same confusion and uncertainty and panic you’ve seen in Essek many times before so you offer a soft smile. Best you can do for him right now is stay calm, don’t make any uncertain moves and approach him with gentleness. You’re sure with how long you’ve been feeling like being watched today he’s been the one responsible and he’d have caught onto your conversations from the shadows.

“Call it a leap of faith. I trust Essek. He trusts you. You’ve done nothing to prove you have any ill will towards my friends so until you prove me otherwise you’ll be welcome.” You move slowly grabbing two knives. Putting one on the counter and sliding it over a little away from you until it touches one of the pie dishes.

“You’re good with a blade right? You can help me cut these pies and cakes and we can talk.” You gesture to the kitchen knife. Verin looks at you as if you’ve gone insane. Maybe you have but it’s more likely you’ve faced much worse than the likes of him. You move your own knife and he watches you as you begin dividing the cake in even slices.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.”

“Then why should I listen to you?”

“Because you’re still standing here in my kitchen.” You laugh plating the slices of cake on another silver platter neatly.

“Verin, if you came here to kill your brother you would have tried so this afternoon. That you haven’t only shows you’re not here for that. You have questions. You want answers. Now I’m not just going to let you walk into my dining room until I’m certain that the information you got and the questions I answer will not lead you to violence. So you help me get dessert ready. If you prove your intensions for your brother and my friends are honourable you can join us for dessert. If you prove a danger to them, I will allow you to leave this place tonight but should you ever return I will be the least of your worries.” Verin takes the knife and tests the grip as if it’s a dagger as he looks at the apple pie in front of him. He stabs the knife down carefully and cuts downward repeating evenly spaced out. You wait for him to talk not feeling like you should initiate conversation just yet.

“The one who stole the beacons and handed them over to the traitor mages of your Empire, it was my brother’s doing.” More of a statement than a question you nod. Diving straight into the deep end, aren’t we? No matter, better rip the bandage off quickly.

“It hit us hard as well. Though, I can’t say it was surprise.” You’re not sure how to place what you read from Verin. Pity? Disappointment? And a good bit of acceptance thrown in the mix.

There truly was a sense of acceptance because no matter how much he might want to deny it, just like you said, there had already been that underlying suspicion it was Essek given his aspirations. It’s one of those things that leaves you hoping something isn’t true and you wilfully suppress the possibility until there’s no other way around it and you’re faced with the truth. If what you said is true and what he gathers from your conversation with the Nein and you now, you found out in the moment. He’s only learning about this in the aftermath.

Essek lied to your faces, pretended to be your ally to cover for himself and yet you still found it within yourselves to forgive or at the very least accept everything he had done so maybe, just maybe he could try to do the same. Still he has many more questions but he’s unsure if you can answer all of them.

“I won’t ask you to forgive and I certainly won’t ask you to forget, but I will ask you to give your brother a chance. In his time with us he’s truly been trying to make up for his mistakes and repent for his sins and while they may not all be washed away in his lifetime, it’s a start. He’s just as much of a misguided tool, as most of us, promised an a glimpse of power by forces bigger than him and without a way out when he realised the gravity of his actions and the consequences.” You finish up the last pie and put the knife to the side. Verin hangs onto your every word.

“When we were about to walk into certain death gathering what we could, he told us that if something were to happen to him, we should come find you because despite everything, you were one of the only people he felt he could trust.”

“Then why didn’t he trust me with this? Why depart without a word?”

“Because burdening you with that information would put you in the same place he put himself in. He came here, to a place he knew you couldn’t follow. He left a place he would endanger everyone he cares about because he knows you, just like the rest of us would fight the entirety of the Dynasty just to keep him safe.” You’re right. Verin know you’re right because he would have stood with his brother in the end despite what crimes he had committed. Essek was not the master of this grand scheme but he played his part. He’d spend his life making up for it but at least he will work towards making this world a better place. Verin can only aspire to do that very thing; protect the people he cares about and make this world a better place.

“I still have many questions.” Verin breathes. It’s a lot to process and that’s okay. This is just the start but it is the most difficult part. You grab the plates and platters balancing them on your arms.

“Maybe you should ask him yourself. Why don’t you join us for dessert, Verin?” He doesn’t know how to respond. While you told him you’d let him join, he didn’t expect it to be now or with so little certainty on your end, but maybe you knew more than you let on. Without a verbal response Verin grabs the remaining dishes from the counter and waits for you to lead the way.

Entering the dining room Beau and Veth are in the middle of a drinking contest each with their own decanters of wine. Veth slams down the now empty decanter.

“Momma’s still got it children!” Veth exclaims cheering as Beau sits back disappointed, two more gulps and she’d have won. Yasha comes in telling her she’ll win next time. Fjord passes over a hand full of coins to Jester who calls him a loser poking his cheek giggling. Kingsley is on the verge of challenging Veth to a drinking contest of their own and Essek carefully manages to grab a bottle to refill his and Caleb’s glasses before this goes south. Caduceus is watching the chaos unfold deliberating wether or not he should get some hangover tea ready because they will need it if this keeps going.

When you enter, the cheers for dessert fall quiet quickly seeing the drow behind you carrying several pies. Essek freezes up and Caleb naturally takes a bit of a defensive position without breaking the dinner setting. Verin albeit awkwardly steps out next to you as you helping you put the plates on the table. With a wave of your hand you call over another chair to be put at the head of the table. You gesture for the man to sit and he does debating wether or not this was the right decision as all eyes fall on him. You take your own seat.

“Well, come on guys, dig in!” Not needing to be asked twice they do, some wary of Verin but you know they’ll ease up soon enough.

“So you’re Essek’s brother? He didn’t say you’re a hot boi too. Jeeze Essek, is everyone in your family pretty?” Jester asks stuffing her mouth with a piece of cake. Verin is taken aback by the blue tiefling’s comment and the identical faces he and Essek make are enough to send most of the table in a giggle fit. You cover your own response to this for your own sake.

“Eh-Thank you? I think? Though, if my company is undesired I can leave…” Verin suggests unsure how to further approach this doubting this is the right place for this.

“Nonsense. If our friend invited you to join, for whatever reason, you’re welcome.” Fjord assures. He knows you wouldn’t just allow this without a reason and just by the attitude of the guy, he gets a pretty good estimate there’s no malicious intent in Verin right now.

“Yeah and while you’re here you can tell us about all the embarrassing shit Essek did when he was a kid.” Beau punches Essek’s shoulder past Caleb who’s quick to get out of the monk’s way. Essek rubs the spot she hit teeth clenched but smiling nonetheless.

“So, Verin, what are your intentions here?” Caleb asks an open question hoping to get more insight in the drow’s motives. While he trusts your judgement one can never be too certain and he’d rather not be face to face with Essek’s brother on their way home should that scenario arise.

“I-“ Verin tries to find the words picking them carefully. “I thought I knew before but now I don’t know. I came to find my brother and I found him, among friends. I have many questions, some answered by your gracious friend but I think for now, I’d like to truly meet my brother’s friends because if this is the company he finds himself in, I can only ask to witness his happiness.”

It’s a strange feeling for Verin to come to that conclusion. When he left Xhorhas he considered he might be bringing back the corpse of his brother, by his hand or someone else’s depending on circumstances, or bring him back in chains for treason to be tried in front of the Bright Queen. What he didn’t expect is to be met by an alternative that would change his views on everything. He realises that with your stories and those of the Nein he was just as lost as all of you, but now he’s found a group of people that willingly accept whichever path he chooses for himself without expectations, rules or conditions.

Verin first hand gets to experience why Essek chose to leave everything behind and give it up for these people. They are his friends, his family and he’d never be alone again if they can help it. Perhaps Verin can experience that too one day. The Mighty Nein will make sure he does because as we know, once you get involved with them, your life changes forever.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #verin thelyss #verin x reader #verin thelyss x reader #critical role

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angelofarts · 3 years ago

Note

hello! i would like to submit “singing karaoke together” for juke from the cute dates list and suggest maybe a scenario where luke has somehow never heard julie sing before 👀 but also of course feel free to not follow that!!

hope you’re doing okay you lovely human being 🥰♥️

Hi Imène! This got completely out of hand, but as an apology, have a moodboard:

A Whim Away, A Whim Away

Luke wasn’t entirely sure how he was strong armed into it, but he had to go along with it - he did owe Alex about seven hundred favours. If the first of those that Alex wanted to call in was karaoke, who was Luke to deny his friend that?

Although, looking back, it would have been nice if either of his friends had warned him that Julie FREAKING Molina would be there too.

Luke would deny to his dying day that he gave Julie Molina heart eyes, considering that they only shared one class. And it wasn’t even a music class - it was calculus, the bane of Luke’s existence. Julie was in the music program, Luke knew, but they were in different focus classes for the first semester.

So it was entirely unfounded that Alex, Bobby and Reggie would nudge Luke at lunch to get him back on track, throwing knowing looks between them. Luke was entirely focused! He just… used the way the sun fell on Julie’s curls as inspiration.

Inspiration. That was it.

At any rate, when Luke got to where they’d agreed to meet up before karaoke, it was to find Alex with a shit eating grin on his face and Reggie laughing. Luke felt his stomach drop as his friends gave each other knowing looks.

“What’s going on?” Luke asked, already dreading the answer.

Alex snorted before answering. “None of Dirty Candi can join us, so Carrie is bringing her girlfriend and best friend instead.”

Luke shrugged. “Okay. And?”

Reggie gave a small giggle. “Luke, Carrie is dating Flynn Taylor. And Flynn Taylor’s best friend is -”

“Julie Molina,” Luke finished, his stomach somehow dropping lower.

Oh, he was so screwed.

It wasn’t that bad to start out with though, in his defense. Julie, Flynn and Carrie arrived within a few minutes of one another, and their group set off on the short walk to the karaoke place Alex had picked out. It had been Alex and Carrie’s idea to have the karaoke night, an attempt to bring their groups closer. Luke still didn’t understand why they needed to be closer, considering that Carrie was Bobby’s cousin (lucky bastard had lucked out of the excursion by having an emergency tutoring session with a kid down the block from him) and was on the dance team with Alex.

Then again, he thought as he watched Julie tuck her purple scarf closer into her collar, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Hey Jules,” Reggie called from where he was leading the pack. Luke was abruptly hit with a wave of jealousy so strong and overwhelming that he was briefly struck dumb.

Reggie knew Julie well enough to give her a nickname? When did this happen?

“Yeah Reg?” Julie called back, her voice floating through the cool night like spun sugar.

“Do you know how far I am from singing The Lion Sleeps Tonight?”

Reggie ignored Luke’s groan as Julie answered. “No. How far away?”

“I’m just… a whim away, a whim away, a whim away, a whim away…”

Their mixed laughter and groaning carried them into the karaoke place, bringing a tiny burst of unexpected sound. The person controlling the karaoke machine looked up, and understanding hit Luke. He nudged Alex with a knowing grin, and Alex ducked his head, a furious blush on his cheeks.

“Hey guys,” Willie said cheerfully, coming over to them. “First patrons of the night! Awesome! Can I start you all out with something to drink before you begin?”

The group settled at a table, taking off coats and scarves as they gave Willie their orders. After writing them down, he offered the group the binder of available karaoke songs.

“Rock paper scissors for who goes first?” Flynn offered. The group held their hands out, going through four rounds before Luke was declared the first singer.

“Are you going with your standard choice?” Alex asked, the look on his face saying he knew exactly what Luke would say. Luke nodded, pointing at the selection.

“You’re the One That I Want?” Carrie asked with a grin. “Really, Guitar Boy?”

Luke shrugged, hoping the dim lighting would hide his slight blush. “It’s a classic.”

Before Carrie could continue to disparage his choice, Willie returned with their drink orders. “Everyone decided what the first choice is?”

Carrie nodded, grinning when Alex seemed dumbstruck. “Luke is going to sing You’re the One That I Want.”

Willie grinned. “Sick. But who are you singing with? That’s a duet.”

Luke looked between the assembled people frantically. He didn’t want to sing with anyone really - this was a song he usually performed on his own.

Flynn looked like she was about to say something, but before she could Luke grabbed Reggie’s hand. “Reg will sing with me!”

Reggie blinked in confusion. “I will?”

Willie handed them microphones before Reggie could protest further. Luke took a gulp of his soda before dragging his best friend up to the small stage. Reggie faced him, gave a small shrug and grinned as Luke began to sing.

“I got chills, they’re multiplying, and I’m losing control…”

When they were done, receiving sarcastic applause from their friends, Luke and Reggie took a bow before returning to the table. At some point when Reggie was declaring that Luke was the one he wanted, the group had ordered salty snacks and more drinks. Luke gratefully scarfed down a handful of Alex’s popcorn, ignoring his best friend’s protests.

“Nice,” Willie complimented, accepting their microphones. Though a few more people had arrived, they seemed content to let Luke’s group take the first slots of the evening.

Well. Either that, or Willie was ignoring anyone who wasn’t Alex, who he kept making eyes at.

Luke snorted, handing the binder to Flynn.

“Can I get a refill please?” he asked Willie. Willie broke away from his staring at Alex, accepting Luke’s glass to get more Coke. It was a small blessing that Willie had taken the drink before the girls began singing.

“I can see what’s happening,” Carrie sang knowingly, nudging Flynn. Luke grinned as they set up the beginning of Can You Feel The Love Tonight, eating the fries left in the middle of the table.

And then Julie Molina opened her mouth to sing and Luke almost choked on his fries.

Her voice was so powerful that Luke felt he’d been sucker punched right in the solar plexus. After swallowing his fries, he felt his mouth drop open. He had no motivation to close it either - it required brain power to be diverted from appreciating the absolute powerhouse of singing that was Julie Molina.

“He’s holding back, he’s hiding,” Julie sang, closing her eyes. “But what, I can’t decide.”

“Luke?” Alex said, nudging him. Luke broke his gaze, giving Alex an enquiring look.

Alex was barely holding back laughter when he started to speak. “I’m going to need you to roll your tongue back into your mouth. You’re drooling.”

“I AM NOT DROOLING.”

And because the universe hated Luke, that announcement came as the music dropped down, the buildup for the chorus beginning.

Flynn and Carrie shot their table a questioning look. Luke buried his head in his arms, staying there until the music dropped away and he heard Carrie take over again.

“And if he falls in love tonight, it can be assumed.”

“His carefree days with us are history,” Flynn sang, shooting the table a knowing grin. Luke flushed as Reggie nudged his side with their final words.

“In short, our pal is doomed!”

Luke sighed, knocking back his soda. The girls took a bow before returning to the table, accepting the congratulations of the few people who had entered in the meantime.

“You were incredible,” Alex said, offering Flynn a high five. “Reg, you’re up!”

Reggie took the microphone, going up to sing the song he’d been humming under his breath the whole time they’d been sitting at the table. Julie settled into his abandoned seat, smiling at Luke.

“I liked your song.”

Luke choked on his breath, immediately losing any cool credit he’d been hanging onto before this. Once his throat was clear, he gave her a shy smile in return.

“Thanks. I liked yours too.”

Alex muttered something that sounded distinctly uncomplimentary under his breath. Luke took the opportunity to step on Alex’s foot and grind his heel, making Alex yelp quietly.

That would teach him.

Or… not. Alex only waited a few seconds before speaking again.

“Luke, do you need a napkin?”

Luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath before answering. “I do not need a napkin, Alexander, but thank you for offering.”

“Are you sure, Lucas?”

Julie cleared her throat, capturing their attention. “Why would Luke need a napkin?”

Because Alex clearly hated Luke, he grinned as he answered. “I don’t know, Julie. Why don’t you ask him?”

Julie shrugged before turning to Luke. “Luke, why do you-”

“I DO NOT NEED A NAPKIN.”

Luke genuinely thought the matter would be dropped until a few minutes later, when Reggie had returned and Carrie had dragged Alex up.

While they sang the beginning of Wannabe, Julie gently set her hand on his shoulder. When he gave her an enquiring look, she silently handed him a napkin.

Luke took it, wishing a hole in the floor would open up to swallow him.

“You look like you’ve been run over by a truck,” Reggie said with abstract interest. Luke tore his gaze away from the stage, where Julie and Flynn were slaying Bills, Bills Bills by Destiny’s Child.

“Did you know Julie could sing like that?” Luke asked, trying to keep his voice down. From the look of amusement Carrie shot him, he took it that he wasn’t all that successful.

“Yeah,” Reggie said, throwing a piece of popcorn in the air and trying to catch it in his mouth. “We had music together last year.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!”

Reggie threw another piece, catching it in his teeth before answering. “You knew we had music together, Luke. You used to walk with me to class before English.”

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me about her voice, Reggie. Why didn’t you tell me about her voice?”

Carrie threw a piece of popcorn at Luke, catching his attention. “Why this sudden interest in Julie?”

“Oh this isn’t sudden,” Alex said cheerfully, ignoring the death look Luke was shooting at him. “Luke has been crushing on Julie for more than a year already. He’s just too chicken to talk to her.”

“Alex!” Luke complained. Alex shrugged, sipping at his drink.

“Luke,” Carrie said, capturing his attention. She was biting at her lip, clearly debating something with herself, before seeming to come to a decision. “She likes you too. Or, she seems to. She won’t tell me and Flynn anything concrete, but we’re pretty sure.”

“How sure?” Luke demanded.

“Like… 87 percent.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, a smug grin travelling over his face. He could work with that percentage.

Carrie flicked a piece of popcorn at Luke. “Hey, Guitar Boy, wipe that look off your face. If you hurt Julie, I swear I will hunt you down and cut every single one of your guitar strings in two.”

Luke blanched, holding up his hand. “I swear I won’t hurt her. Scouts honor.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you kicked out of the Boy Scouts?”

“Not the point.”

Flynn and Julie took a bow, coming back to the table with laughter. Luke sat up straighter when Julie sat - the knowledge that she might like him back was giving him confidence he was only familiar with when he was performing.

“We should finish up for the night,” Flynn said, shaking her wrist to see the time on her silver watch. “One last performance?”

Carrie and Alex exchanged glances, grinning at one another before Carrie spoke.

“Jules, you and Luke should finish us out.”

Luke gave Carrie a poisonous look, quickly schooling his face into neutrality when Julie looked towards him. He smiled and nodded when she raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, cool, I’ll go pick something for us.”

She disappeared in a flurry of curls, and Luke got to his feet. He began to pace, tugging at his shirt nervously.

“What are you doing?” Flynn asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s warm,” Luke said defensively.

“You’re wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

“What,” Luke said with a grin, “I can’t be warm just because I have my arms out? That feels panphobic.”

Alex’s face twisted like he was trying to figure out how to walk barefoot across a floor scattered with legos. “That’s not… okay.”

Julie returned before any of the others could contribute. “Hey, I picked something for us. Are you okay with Queen?”

Luke grinned. “Is the sky blue?”

He offered her his arm. Before he could think about how stupid and dorky it seemed, she slipped her hand around his bicep, letting him guide her to the stage.

Julie accepted a microphone, smiling apologetically at Luke. “Since it’s not a duet they only gave me one. You don’t mind sharing, do you?”

That much time up close and personal with Julie Molina?

“Uh, no, that’s fine,” he said with a slightly strangled laugh. He heard Alex say something about asking for a second microphone, but either Julie didn’t hear or she chose to ignore Alex as the music began.

They sang together, trading off lines with grins. Luke’s mind was split onto two levels - one was focused on the song, on the lyrics and melodies that he’d forced into his subconscious as soon as he found the band. The other was blown away by the sound they were making together. If he’d thought Julie singing on her own was too much for him, the sound of the two of them singing together was absolutely blowing his mind.

Julie closed her eyes as the bridge built, taking a few steps forwards and backwards as she swayed. Luke watched with a smile, not noticing what was happening until it was almost too late.

Julie took a step into the air, no stage underneath her feet to support her. With the instincts born from performing in clubs with stages too small for the entire band to fit, Luke reached out, grabbed her hand and spun her back.

She landed with her hands against his chest, an audible gulp emerging. Before he could make sure she was okay, she smiled slowly and brought the microphone up between them.

“Can anybody find me,” she sang, looking directly into his eyes, “somebody to love?”

He smiled and brought her into a dip. The room broke into applause as they came back to standing, suddenly shy.

Flynn let out a whistle, breaking Luke’s shyness. He backed away from Julie, blushing as he went.

“Nice singing,” he finally said, gesturing for her to exit the stage.

“Thanks,” she said softly, smiling at him before walking down. He followed so that they could get their things, helpfully gathered by their friends.

“That was some performance,” Flynn said, grinning knowingly at him. Luke waited until Julie turned around to shoot Flynn the finger. Flynn snorted, winding her arm around Carrie’s waist as the group got to the doors.

“Okay,” Alex announced. “How is everyone getting home?”

Flynn was getting a lift with Carrie when Bobby came to pick her up. Alex had his bike, and Reggie had driven like Luke. That left Julie, who waved her phone.

“I’m just waiting for my dad to finish up a job and then he’ll pick me up.”

Luke frowned. “Hey, you live in Los Feliz, right?”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You realize we go to the same school, for the same school district?”

Luke ignored the sensation of his ears heating up. “What I mean is I can drop you off if you want. It’s not out of my way.”

Julie smiled at him. “If you’re sure it’s not out of your way, that would be amazing. Let me just call my dad real quick, yeah?”

Julie stepped away from the group to call her dad. Alex raised an eyebrow when she was out of earshot.

“Funny how you live on the opposite side of Los Feliz to Julie.”

Luke felt his face drop. “I do? Not that I care!” he added hastily when Reggie and Alex exchanged amused glances.

Julie stepped back before they could really lay into Luke. He let out a deep breath when she nodded, letting him lead the way to his car after waving goodbye at the others.

Luke took a moment to be thankful that Alex had bullied him into cleaning his car as Julie slid into the passenger seat. When she picked up his CD file, he nodded and she began to page through it.

“Oh, you have some incredible artists in here,” she complimented. He smiled and entered her address into his phone, noting that it really wasn’t that far away from his house.

And then stopped that thought in its tracks.

Because that was a creepy train of thought to go down.

Julie let out a small laugh. “Rose and the Petal Pushers?”

“Rose and the Petal Pushers was instrumental, excuse the pun, in the formation of rock as we know it,” Luke said defensively.

Julie grinned, shaking her head. “I was just surprised. Trust me, Luke, no one is a bigger Petal Pushers fan than me. Certified Thorn from the day I was born.”

“Your parents sang you their songs as lullabies?” Luke asked with a grin.

Julie shrugged. “Mami wrote most of their songs, so she tried out new material on me.”

“Your mom wrote for them?” Luke asked, turning down Julie’s street. “But that would mean…”

“Yep,” Julie said cheerfully as Luke parked the car. “My mom is Rose herself.”

Luke displayed a remarkable lack of brain cells in that moment, immediately and forever branding himself a dork to Julie Molina, by blurting out, “Your mom was my childhood crush.”

Julie let out a snort. “Oh, I am never going to let you live that down.”

Luke felt his blush build again, and responded by poking Julie in the shoulder. He didn’t expect her giggle, but he felt a smile spread across his face when she slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Julie, are you… ticklish?”

She held her hands up in his direction. “Luke, don’t you dare, don’t do it -”

Luke attacked.

Julie appeared to be ticklish everywhere, regardless of where he poked, and she was too sensitive to retaliate effectively. Eventually she called for mercy, her breath heaving and her eyes streaming with tears.

Luke grinned before two things became immediately obvious.

They were very very close together.

And Luke wanted to kiss her.

“Jules?”

She blinked before slowly smiling. “Yes?”

He took a deep breath before speaking. Now or never.

“Your mom might have been my childhood crush but… you’re my right now crush.”

Her smile impossibly widened. “Really?”

“Really. Can I kiss you?”

She tasted like popcorn and Coke.

And she sounded like a perfect harmony.

TEN YEARS LATER

Luke couldn’t get over how beautiful Julie was, sitting next to him at their wedding reception. The day had been a whirlwind of events - getting ready with the boys in his suite, crying when Julie came down the aisle, and the incredible moment of finally saying, “I do.”

And now… now she was his WIFE.

He reached for her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. She smiled and gently cradled his face.

“That’s enough, lovebirds,” Reggie called through the sound system. They broke apart to scattered laughter, turning to hear Reggie’s best man speech - the first of three, since Luke had refused to choose between his best friends.

“Ladies and gentlemen and non-binary friends,” Reggie said as the attention turned to him. “In order to fully appreciate my friends, I have a presentation to show you all. Flynn, if you would be so kind?”

Flynn dimmed the lights and a video came onto the screen. A very familiar video, one that had Luke groaning instantly.

“The king I see inside,” Julie-onscreen sang. The quality of the video wasn’t great, but it was enough to clearly capture Luke’s voice as he spoke next to the filmer.

“I AM NOT DROOLING.”

The room broke into laughter as Luke dropped his head into his hands. Julie rubbed his back soothingly, but she couldn’t keep her giggles entirely contained.

“He was indeed drooling,” Reggie said blissfully. “And he has continued to do so every day since. Will you please raise your glasses with me to Luke and Julie!”

“To Luke and Julie!” the room echoed, laughter still bouncing around. Luke shook his head good naturedly.

“Just wait,” Julie murmured as Alex made his way to the microphone. “Apparently the other two are so much worse.”

Luke smiled and pressed a kiss to her hand. “Good thing you’re stuck with me, huh?”

Julie smiled and gently kissed him.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered when she pulled back. “I drooled over you too.”

Luke snorted abruptly.

They really were made for each other.

#angel gets old #tumblr requests #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #FLYNN TAYLOR #Carrie wilson #willie #alex mercer

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sylvie-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Uncalled For

request: hey! if you take requests, i have one for Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Something like angst stuffs because the reader is pregnant with his baby. Lots and lots of feels and angsty stuffs please thank you - anon

a/n: Thanks for the request hon! I love it! sorry for the wait.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, nervous first-time father Ransom, angst but it turns to fluff!

summary: this story is quite deceiving hehe. I can’t say anything or it will ruin the element of my mini surprise. (lmao I can’t write plot twists without solving them right away.)

Pardon any mistakes!

Ransom Drysdale, the man who was your boss turned boyfriend.

In the beginning, you were his glorified maid working under the title of personal assistant.

Although the man was a mess, he was good to you. Even when you weren’t dating.

For a few years you’ve worked for Ransom, but recently the two of you have started dating.

It was nice no longer having to drive around your ass to get to your elbow just trying to show up at his house on time for work.

Now you spend your mornings waking up under Ransom’s heavy arm that protectively laid over your waist.

Needless to say he was a changed man, and was now taking the whole “dating thing” seriously.

One morning you woke up, the urge to rush to the bathroom becoming stronger.

Unable to contain your nausea anymore, you hurriedly threw off Ransom’s arm waking the man, who saw you in a panic.

Your figure flashed passed him, causing the man to throw off the bed covers and storm into the bathroom.

Just as he was about to give you an earful for the theatrics, he saw your head thrown over the toilet bowl, awful sounds falling from your lips.

At the sight, he squatted down, holding your hair from your face and rubbing your back soothingly.

Once the contents of your stomach were emptied, you sat back, Ransom standing to get you a glass of water.

You leaned against the wall, feeling absolutely disgusting. Slurping the water, you knew the reason for all of this happening.

All of your previous symptoms came together in your mind, forming the conclusion that you were pregnant.

“Hey angel, how are you feeling?”

Ransom sat on the floor beside you, placing a hand on your forehead.

Somewhat irritated, you pushed his hand away, shaking your head.

“I feel like shit.”

There was no sign of amusement on your face, and Ransom just nodded.

“What do you think caused this?”

He was absolutely clueless, causing you to bitterly laugh.

“You.”

Ransom’s face contorted into annoyance and you placed a hand on his chest to calm him.

“I meant you knocked me up, Ran.”

You offered the man a small smile, who looked like his world had just been turned upside down.

Before you dated Ransom, he often had pregnancy scares with other women, but with you his reaction was different.

With those women, he just threw money at them, leaving them to their own decision, but with you, he looked extremely worried.

You’d never seen Ransom like this before.

“Uh. Are you sure? Actually, no. Wait right here, I’m going to go get a test.”

Before you were given a chance to speak, Ransom just rushed out.

His demeanor had shifted and it was unreadable.

Was he mad at you? If he was, you weren’t gonna stand for it.

Whatever Ransom was feeling, you’d work with it.

If he wasn’t going to be in this child’s life, then so be it.

You were a smart woman, who could make anything work.

Twenty minutes later, Ransom came back with four different tests, all different brands.

He smiled sheepishly at you and handed you the boxes, “I wasn’t sure what to get.”

Following the instructions of each, you went to go sit on the bed with Ransom, who was staring into the abyss.

He hadn't said a word. The only thing he had done so far, was open his arm so you could lean into his side.

As you waited for the timer, Ransom ran his hand over your hair, soothing you and probably himself.

In no time, the timer went off and you walked into the bathroom. Ransom sullenly trailing behind.

You paid no mind to his attitude as he’d open up to you when he was ready.

Reading the tests, they all read positive.

Excitedly, you squealed and threw your arms around Ransom’s neck.

“Whoa! What does this mean? It’s negative?”

“No! It’s positive. I’m pregnant, Ransom!”

Happily, you kissed his lips, a smile on your face the whole time.

When you pulled back, Ransom looked a bit spooked.

“Hey, honey, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.”

Ransom just shook his head and backed away.

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’ll see you later, alright?”

The man gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek, once again rushing out, and not giving you a chance to question him.

With Ransom gone you had no clue when later meant.

So, taking a deep breath, you just moved on, trying not to become angry at Ransom.

You always told yourself that you could not just assume things until you knew for sure.

For now, to keep your mind off of things, you got showered and dressed, deciding to take yourself out for lunch and some shopping.

Around four o’clock, you came home, smiling to yourself upon finding Ransom’s car back in the driveway.

Held in your hand, was a small paper bag, having found a cute little onesie for the little one at a store you visited.

On the front, inscribed were the words, “daddy’s little angel.”

He always called you that, so you only found it fitting that he’d call your baby the same.

“Ransom?”

Walking around the house, it was seemingly empty. No sounds anywhere except a strained, “shit!” coming from upstairs.

You heard the sounds of a creaking floor, something that would only come from one moving furniture.

Immediately, your mind went to the worse and you were now seeing red.

Angrily, you threw down the back and stomped up the stairs.

The guest bedroom door was slightly cracked.

‘At least he had the decency to do it in another room,’ you thought to yourself.

Getting closer to the door, you heard a muffled feminine voice, and more stings of curses from Ransom.

With great vehemence, you threw the door open, eyes shut, but with a loud yell of Ransom’s full name.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale, I swear if I find a woman in there, she better be decent!”

“What?”

Ransom sounded utterly offended, shutting off the youtube video, and standing to pry your hands from your face.

He looked at you with a smile, holding your wrists to his lips, placing kisses on them both.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, to find his goofy grin and a remodeled guest room.

At the sight of the room, you started crying.

Happy tears to be exact.

In the guest room, the white walls were now covered in different paint swatches, bookshelves mounted on the wall, and plastic covered the carpet, protecting it from the upcoming paint job.

Behind Ransom, was an unfinished crib, and his phone playing a youtube video, showing a woman assembling the thing. (The voice you had heard through the door)

It all clicked in your head and you felt like a complete idiot.

You snuggly wrapped your arms around Ransom’s neck, starting to laugh at the misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch!”

The man just tightened his grip on your waist and smooched your forehead.

“It’s okay, angel. I know I don’t have the best track record.”

He looked down shamefully and you pulled up his chin to look into your eyes.

“No, that doesn’t justify my actions. I’m sorry, Ransom, and from now on, I will put more trust in you.”

You hugged him in a loving manner, hoping to get your words through.

“Well, I’m sorry too. For running off this morning. I was just scared, but then I had this… clarity. That everything was going to be okay.”

Ransom smiled at you and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I see that now,” you giggled slightly, “To see the great Ransom Drysdale building something must mean that he cares.”

“You bet your ass I do! You have no idea how draining it is to build one of those things.”

The two both of you in entire bliss, you leaned forward to place a teasing kiss on the man that you absolutely adored.

“I’m sure I can give you some motivation.”

Ransom smirked at your words, and deeply kissed you once more, walking you down the hall, still lip-locked.

Sooner or later that crib would be finished.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans x reader

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