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randomshyperson · 6 months

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Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap. | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful. In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner.

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure."

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?"

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection."

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you.

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first.

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel.

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around.

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization.

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me."

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up."

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you."

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart."

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose." You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice."

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way.

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment.

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks.

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious.

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority.

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear."

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?"

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces.

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order:

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face.

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath.

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down.

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot.

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck.

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her.

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

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christinarowie332 · 5 months

Text

honey , i know you.

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff / suggestive)

warnings : talk of sex dreams ? smooching . cringe . fluffy fluff , short . may turn into smut if y’all want it .

———-

i scrunch my eyes at the sudden light hitting my lidded eyes as i wake up from my sleep , i turn to nick next to me , his face smushed against his pillow as he sleeps ,chest against his mattress . i smile at his relaxed face and the red dye on his forehead from dying his hair the night before .

i roll over and peel myself out of bed , the early morning sun hitting my face before i quickly close his blinds so he can stay asleep. my oversized t-shirt falls over my curves , just covering my underwear as i walk down the stairs towards the triplets kitchen . i feel completely comfortable walking around in my clothes as none of my bestfriends get up early . i walk past the living room , seeing the sprawled out blankets and canned drinks littering the room from our late night mario kart sesh . i make my way into the kitchen slowly ,i hear a door close , still half asleep i ignore it and open the fridge door , bending over to grab some ice from the freezer.

“mornin” my heart literally falls to my ass at the groggy voice . my hand flies to my chest as i slam the door and turn towards the noise . my eyes land on matt , his hand rubbing his eye and his hair messily plastered on his forehead. his slightly cropped t-shirt riding up his torso , showing his boxers as his sweatpants hang loosely on his hips .

“jesus christ matt you scared the shit out of me” i whisper shout , hand still resting over my heart as i try to slow down my breathing. moving backwards to lean against the counter next to the fridge .

“sorry” he replies , his voice low with sleep , moving closer to me and opening the door of the fridge again , grabbing a water bottle and closing it .

“why are you awake so early?” i ask him , his eyes meeting mine as he takes a long drink of his water , leaning against the fridge door and bringing the drink down to the counter , dropping the lid next to it . “didnt sleep” he replies shrugging his shoulders and dropping his head to the side , his temple resting against the door . the only thing i could think of being how nice he looked . his eyes bearing into mine softly , his hair falling messily over his brows and his jawline sharp as ever at the angle . i inhale a shakey breath before speaking .”do u wanna do something this morning ? before chris and nick wake up? maybe get breakfast or something?” i reply , trying to silence my own thoughts .

“yeah sure, you may have to drive though i’m like on the verge of falling asleep” matt replies, leaning off the door and beginning to walk towards his room . “thought so” i laughed while speaking , following in his direction towards his bathroom.

we get ready quickly, i put on some of matt’s clothes so to not wake up nick, we set up in his car , him trusting me to drive the mini van for once . i plug in my phone and play our shared playlist, consisting of lots of mac miller and random songs we both liked .

“hey so how come you couldn’t sleep?” i asked over the sound of clubhouse by mac faintly playing in the background. his head snaps from his phone , before awkwardly looking around before speaking. “um , im uh , not sure . probably like adrenaline or something?” he speaks , squinting his eyes and avoiding my gaze. my head turns back and forth as my eyes can’t pick between the road or matt , my mind not being able to choose between letting his answer slide or asking him more . i choose the latter .

“adrenaline from what ? mario kart wasn’t that intense was it ?” my eye brows scrunched together as i side eye him from the drivers seat , hitting a red light i turn towards him . “hey . what’s on your mind matt?” no answer . “matt bro what’s-“

“have you ever had a sex dream?”

oh .

my lips purse as i’m sure my eyebrows lifted for high they touch my hairline . he notices my face and immediately starts rambling on about how he didn’t mean to make me uncomfortable, and it was a stupid question but all i could think about was my answer .

“yes” i cut him off , his head allmost flies off his neck as he spins to look at me . eyes wide , and mouth slightly parted . we go into an awkward silence for a while . i park the car up in a near car park , pretty much empty from the early time . the only sound in the car being our gulps and my tapping on the wheel , along with our playlist as we avoid each others gaze .

“yes i have had a sex dream . why?” i break the silence , not daring to meet his eyes . we’re both adults , and obviously have had sexual conversations before . but that was in a group , or fueled my too many hits of a joint or even over text . but being literally in the car with the guy i’ve been secretly obsessed with for half my life , talking about sex dreams …..that included him , was not on my bingo card for today.

“can i be totally tmi y/n/n , like , it won’t be awkward, what i say in this car will not leave this car .” matt says turning to me suddenly, i copy his actions and tuck a leg under my thigh to get comfy . his eyes flicker to my thigh, then up to me (lowkey submissively may i add) .

“matt i’ve literally just admitted to having sex dreams before . we have officially entered the awkward tmi stage ….promise i won’t judge .” i say placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him. watching him look at it , before meeting my eyes again smiling .

“ok so , please don’t like take this in a weird way , but . i had a dream last night …. right? involving….you? i mean like it wasn’t like a crazy one, but like i woke up all confused and hard and then i was just up all night overthinking it because like ….. YOURE YOU?! YOUR LIKE A SISTER TO ME ……. NO ok i cant say that cuz your not ,your attractive and like really fucking smart and it’s like ….. i’m not saying i like have a crush on you but-“

i interrupt him by lurching forward and attaching my lips onto his . it takes a second for him to relax into it , but i feel a hand softly set on my cheek, moving it toward my hairline , caging his fingers around my ear as he pulls me impossibly closer . my hand ghosts over his , before holding his hand against my face . he pulls away stunned , his lips still puckered while his eyes search mine rapidly , flicking between them trying to fine any impilaction that i regretted it . he found none.

“matt-“ he attached our lips again , hungry this time , his tongue grazing my lips begging for entry. i give it him and a soft moan emits from my throat . i feel him smile into the kiss , making me chuckle as i move with his lips . i pull away out of breath slightly , putting a hand to his face and rubbing my finger against his cheek. i watch him lean into the touch , his eyes soft and allmost pleading .

“matt i need you to know something.” i say before slowly inhaling, trying to ground myself knowing i could make this really wierd . he hums in acknowledgment, furrowing his eye brows and biting the inside of his lip . he’s anxious? i know this because i know him . i’ve spent years with him , silently watching every finger pick or shakey tremor . i’ve seen his face light up at certain songs or movies , i know he loves a very specific brand of root beer the most . i know he has to watch an episode of gravity falls before bed . i know he can’t talk while reversing or at a junction. i know he hates the way my legs bounce under the table . he knows i’m anxious and places a calming hand on my knee. he knows me .

“matt i like you.” i blurt out , my mouth goes dry after saying the words , and i gulp down the bile that rises when he’s silent . “i mean like, i like like you” still silence . “matt?”

“im in love with you.” finally he speaks . and i couldn’t be fucking happier with his words .”i think i have been for years” .

———-

i hate this but i had to post . i wanna take a small break from smut for a second cuz i lowkey hate writing it . no i don’t . i just idk !!!! i’ll get back on my shit soon !!! i just am a very busy gyall.

also lmk if y’all wanna pt 2 , smut version . a cute little “what are we doing in your dream” 😏😏

———-

taglist:

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kvtie444 @kenzieiskoolaid @cabincorematt @urmyslxt @mattenthusiast @mattsd0ll @iheart2021chris @parkerssecrets @paper-crab @recklesssturniolo @lovingsturniolo @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @daddyslilchickenfingers @strniohoeee @ermdontmindthisaccount @sturnphilia @bluesturniolo333 @lea0518 @chrisolivia4l @freshlovehacker @its-jennarose @kitaysworld @liz-stxr @littlebookworm803

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drewsbuzzcut · 6 months

Text

Halloweekend Night 1

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic

warnings: alcohol consumption, minor talks of fake blood, kinda steamy-ish

Dallas adjusts her fake-blood stained tank top, tousles her hair, and turns to Nick, who she had to go with her to the restroom because you can never be too cautious in a frat house. She and Nick are dressed as Sidney Prescott and ghostface from Scream.

“Baby, can you hand me my lipgloss?” He reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out her lip gloss and handing it to her.

Dallas can feel Nick’s stare on her back, creating chills to appear on her skin. He must notice as he places the denim jacket he was holding over her shoulders. She gives him a shy smile, her cheeks flushing when he pulls her back into his body.

“Fuck, my girl is sexy,” Nick says through the device that changes his voice to the one of ghostface. His hand slides the littlest bit under your tank top, dying for some skin to skin contact, she looks down hiding her rosy cheeks. Definitely not from the alcohol she’s been drinking.

“Don’t hide,” he says, again through the voice changing device.

Dallas shakes her head with a chuckle, her hair flowing flawlessly. She reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck, staring into the eyes of his mask.

“Nicky baby, you look really good. Like exceptionally hot. Best looking person here. Thank you for doing this with me,” she compliments him, knowing his cheeks are turning a million shades of red.

The most beautiful shades of red that are only produced by the guy she fancies.

“You’re the best looking one here,” he says back in his normal voice.

Oh how she doesn’t know that he’d do anything for her.

She looks down again, hiding her blush, still not used to his compliments.

“We should head back out,” she grabs his hand to lead him back to their spot.

“Wait. One more thing. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asks the question through the voice changer.

Dallas rolls her eyes playfully before exiting the bathroom with him in tow.

“You tell me and you better not get it wrong,” she spits back with a teasing glare.

Nick’s heart flutters at the sight of her. He’s one lucky guy.

She’s one lucky girl.

Nick sits on an abandoned stool, pulling Dallas to sit on his thigh.

They both sit there for a while, listening to Rutger and Luca argue over something silly all while they’re both just secretly touching each other. Once any drop of alcohol enters the girl’s bloodstream, she is clingy and needy. Nick loves it.

“Baby?” She leans closer to the boy to whisper in his ear.

“Can we go get a drink?” It’s really her way of trying to get some sort of privacy.

Nick nods his head, leading her to the kitchen. As he’s headed to the cooler, Dallas is tugging on his arm and dragging him to a spot that she deems secluded.

“I thought you wanted a drink?” Nick asks, confused.

“I want you more,” she whispers, bringing her body closer to his so that their chests are pressed together.

Dallas lifts the cloth of the ghostface mask he’s wearing that covers his neck, letting her lips softly glide over his skin. His hands plant themselves on her hips, his grip tight. She pecks his skin before she starts to leave soft, wet kisses on the pulse point of his neck. She feels his moan rattle in his throat, his body vibrates at her attention. The moment Dallas starts sucking on his skin, he’s melting into a puddle. The moans continuously fall from his lips as he leans his head back to give her more access. His hands travel lower, squeezing the flesh of her ass, desperately wishing it was bare and not denim clad.

Secretly, Nick brings a hand up so he can thumb at one of her nipples over her tank top. Dallas thought it’d be a great idea to forgo wearing a bra. It was.

A low whine claws its way out of her throat, her body instinctively leaning more into his hand. She lets out a huff, taking off Nick’s mask, so she can finally have his lips on hers. She doesn’t even get the chance to pull him down as he’s pulling her in first. His plump lips lock with hers, it’s fast and hot. Her hands twist and pull on his hair, and Nick doesn’t fight the urge to kiss and suck along her jaw down to her collarbones. He leaves matching marks on her skin. Her head is tilted back, too enthralled in pleasure to even care if her actions are lewd.

“I want you,” Nick says into her burning skin, solidifying his words with a lick over the mark on her collarbone.

Dallas feels every ounce of lust surge through her body, standing up on her tiptoes to press his body into the wall. Her hand comes up to rest on his neck while her lips reconnect with his. It’s almost ravenous as they bite and pull on each other’s bottom lip, her hand applying more force on its hold. Nick loves when Dallas gets like this. He loves to see her take control, knowing she’s only like this with him. She’s shoving her tongue down his throat while he’s thrusting a leg in between hers. She just about sheds all her clothes at the fraction of friction she’s feeling.

“I was wondering why you guys were taking forever, but it looks like you’re about to christen the frat house. Don’t forget to wrap it up, Nicky boy, we don’t need to be uncles just yet,” Luca says, interrupting the couple.

Dallas leans her forehead on Nick’s chest, breathing heavily and body still thrumming with need. If it were anyone else that walked in on them, they probably would’ve pulled apart, but seeing as Luca has walked in on them more than once, it’s not really a big deal.

“Only I can call him Nicky,” Dallas retorts.

“We’re headed out. Are you good or do you want to walk with us?” Nick asks the other hockey player, shoving his face in her neck, kissing his girl repeatedly while she squeals and squirms.

“I’m good. See you guys tomorrow,” Luca says, walking away, no doubt not wanting to be a third wheel.

“Your place or mine?” His hand caresses her cheek, thumbing away the dried up fake blood.

“Mine,” she answers, ready for privacy with her boy.

Maybe even include a round with Nick wearing his ghostface mask. Maybe.

a/n: First Halloween mini fic! Enjoy lovelies!

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick x dallas #umich hockey #umich imagine #so it goes au

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thomacrumbs · 9 months

Text

you're on your own, kid, you always have been.

childe x gn! reader, soulmate au (flowers bloom on your skin where your soulmate got hurt, they fade away when your soulmate touches them). so like....... i was going through my files and realised i never posted this (i think. at least. its been like a year) so i edited it. enjoy 🥳

“your soulmate flowers-- they’re gone!”

the woman from the docks had pulled your arm towards her and awed, running her fingers over the nicks in your arm, “did you meet them?”

you were notorious for the laurestines that budded upon your arm, seeking to nestle themselves into every crook and cranny of your body. it was worse when you were younger, around 14 was when you first started choking on the white of laurestines, throat erupting in pain as you tried to suppress the bile, terrified at what was happening-- and worse, what was happening to your soulmate?

“i did.”

“what are they like?”

tartaglia-- or sweetheart, as he makes you call him. he clung to you like a drowning man, mouthing at your neck as gloved hands intertwined themselves with yours, the bundle of white dying at his lips and shrinking before turning into nothingness. he presses into you with a chuckle, breathing you in as his hand finds the laurestine that matches the bruise he had gotten in sparring against the traveller, his fingers tracing love hearts around the bud before he strokes his thumb over the flower, finger pressing flat against your skin in a soft smother, idyllic murmurs trailing out of his mouth as he sighs and rubs his cheek against your shoulder.

“he’s… something.”

you had grabbed him by the arm, and with a smile on his face the idea of the perfect soulmate turns to pull you in closer. the snezhnayan breeze cards through his hair. he’s perfect, a reflection of the ideal, tall, handsome, impossibly rich-- not to mention just the right balance of loving & protective. his fingers always found earnestly drawing daisies into your skin and the constant seeking to intertwine his pinkie with yours. his love, delivered & tied so neatly as the bow that adorned the box that accompanied the letter he sent from liyue-- frivolous fancies and trivial dreams spouted across paper in dark ink that had the same highs and rolls as him, with straight lines and stabbed dots.

but under all that is the boy who found himself in the abyss, the one who made you cough up flowers and leave you stroking at your throat and humming pains out years later. the one who does not know the difference between the red on his hands-- whether it is his or someone else’s. but when he sees the red on your hands, and that glassy look you watch him with, he does nothing but kneel at your feet, mumble quiet apologies as he traces the bud, flower not even truly open and in full glory as it dies, silent in its short uneventful life.

“what’s wrong?” he had asked, once, pulling his gloves on as the two of you stand by the door of your house. the world howls outside.

but you can only shake your head, words suddenly stuck in your throat, unable to be coughed out.

“be safe,” is the only thing that slips out, croaked under the veil of moonlight across the cold.

in these plains of broken towers, beyond the cold of the mountains and snow of the loveless land, you found sparking familiarity cradled between your hands and pulled out of your throat.

“its just a fatui meeting,” at your huff, he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead as if you were made of glass, his gloved knuckles running up and down your arm in a poor imitation at a will for warmth, “alright, i’ll be careful.”

and you let him go, all that is left of him.

#don't ask me why i used laurestine i can't remember.#google tells me it means victory or something. do with that what you will.#childe imagine #childe x reader #tartaglia imagine #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #childe #genshin imagines #genshin imagine #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader #t.ext #actually i've got so many unposted childe stuff??? thomacrumbs revival era??? lol jk i haven't touched sumeru

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sinkingteethinwhitenoise · 4 months

Text

Carpe Noctem - Nick Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Celia (fem!OC)

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW 18+ ONLY, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, kissing, masks, gloves

Word Count: 3k

Carpe Noctem (Latin) ~ Seize the night; Enjoy the pleasures of the night

Celia’s heels clicked on the concrete as she walked up the packed driveway. Her golden hair flowed with the gentle, frigid breeze. A shiver went down her spine. She would blame it on the cold weather, but she knew that every time she approached the dark, castle-like mansion, she would get an eerie feeling. For a moment she thought she should have dressed warmer, feeling much too chilly in her formal wear: a floor length red dress with a high slit, a straight neckline and thin straps. The diamond necklace around her neck and the skinny chain bracket around her wrist felt like ice against her skin. However, she knew that due to the sheer amount of party goers that were bound to be inside would soon have her sweating beneath her red, bejeweled half mask. As she approached the front porch, she saw long, curly black hair being illuminated by the warm, dim light from the sconces on either side of the glossy black front door. A smile crept up onto her glossy red lips as she approached. “Hey Phoebe.”

Phoebe was Celia’s best friend since grade school. And her parents were loaded. Each year they held a masquerade ball on New Year’s Eve in their impressive gothic mansion. Each year, since Celia has been old enough, she attended. And each year the party always seemed to be more extravagant than the last. A happy squeal left Phoebe’s closed lips as she turned and hugged Celia. “Thank God, you finally made it!” She beamed. Celia returned the hug and once they pulled away from each other, Phoebe linked their arms. “Come on! I’ve been dying for a drink.”

The only word that could describe the inside of the mansion was ornate. The walls were painted black. Fine art lined the walls, each piece sat perfectly inside of gold antique frames. Gold sconces lined the walls between every other painting. Each seat was draped in dark red velvet. An elaborate, crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the tall ceiling, sparkling and filling the room with dim, warm light. It was a vampire’s dream estate.

Celia’s hazel eyes scanned the room as Phoebe led her through crowds of people and to the bar. Men and women were dressed to the nines, all in their best suits and dresses, all in masks. Most wore half masks like herself, others opted for full masks. She knew most of the people in attendance, but she couldn’t pick anyone out of the crowd quite yet, not with the quick rushed glances she was able to take while being dragged to the bar. They finally stopped walking and Phoebe grabbed two crystal champagne flutes, her gloved hand carefully handing one to Celia.

She brought the crystal to her lips as she scanned the room once more. Some guests were seated, listening to a story told by a tall man in a red suit, hanging onto his every word. Others were standing, chatting in small groups throughout the room. There were couples dancing to a beautiful Waltz, their steps perfectly in sync. And-

There was someone staring at her.

From across the room she met a set of deep brown eyes behind an all black half mask, it seemed to be textured but from this distance she couldn’t make out the details of it. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. He wore a black dress shirt underneath, no tie in sight, as well as a shiny pair of black loafers. His hands were hidden inside of black leather gloves. His hair was neatly slicked back. The mask was small enough to notice that he had a square jaw and full lips. It was also small enough for her to know that she had never seen this man before. She reached for Phoebe, eyes still locked with the mysterious man’s. “Hey, who’s that?” She questioned.

By the time Phoebe looked where Celia was looking, the man had turned his head. They both stared for a moment, Phoebe tilting her head before shrugging. “Not sure,” she hummed, turning back to look at Celia. “Maybe someone’s plus one? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”

“And you’re not concerned about that?” Celia looked at her, confused expression hidden by her mask.

Phoebe shrugged, “Not really. My parents invite more and more people every year.” Then she was waving at someone and rushing off in their direction. She must’ve recognized them even with their mask on. And vice versa. Quickly, Celia downed the rest of her champagne and grabbed a new glass. Then she followed after Phoebe. Odds were that she knew the person too.

After about an hour of mingling, Celia’s feet were begging her to sit down. She walked around until she found an empty seat and sat down, crossing her legs. She ran her hands across the crushed red velvet she was seated on; it was soft under her fingers. Her mind drifted to the mysterious man that was staring at her earlier. She wondered how he looked under that mask. She wondered if he was actually looking at her. He couldn’t have been. Right? There were so many people around; he could’ve been staring at any one of them. Then why did it feel like they made eye contact?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice that came from right next to her. “Is this seat taken?”

She looked over to the source of the voice, a man standing beside the chair next to her. Her eyes drifted to his masked face and she realized that it was him. Now that he was closer, she noticed that the texture to his mask were little gears. It reminded her of steampunk.

He stared at her expectantly. She shook her head and motioned at the seat with her hand. A small, closed mouth grin spread across his face as he sat down, not taking his eyes off of her. She felt somewhat…small under his gaze, but somehow…not uncomfortable.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” the man asked.

Celia nodded as she turned to face him completely. “I am. Are you?”

The man nodded. “It’s a nice party,” he murmured. “How come you’re over here by yourself?”

“Oh, I’ve been mingling for the last hour and my feet needed a break,” she said, giving him a soft smile.

“Yeah? You know a lot of people here?”

“I do,” she nodded. “I’ve been coming to these parties since I was 16.”

“How old are you now?”

“26.”

He broke out into a big goofy smile. “Me too,” he beamed. “This is my first time here. My friend invited me. But I lost him pretty much as soon as we walked through the door.”

“Lots of people, a big house, everyone in masks, it’s pretty easy to lose someone,” she said with a shrug. “So you only know one person here?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. Then he met her eyes. “Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll know two.”

She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks as she tried to suppress a giggle. “Maybe you won’t need luck.”

She watched as his eyes looked her up and down, “What’s your name?” he asked her.

She could’ve told him. She wanted to. But her desire to be mysterious for a little bit longer was overriding her desire to tell him. Instead of responding with her name, she just smirked at him. “Would you like to dance?”

His eyes got noticeably wider, clearly not expecting the question. “I don’t know how to Waltz.”

“I’ll show you, then.” She stood up and reached for his gloved hand. He gladly accepted.

Celia was facing him, she grabbed her right hand with her left. “Place this hand between my shoulder blades.” Once he did, she placed her left hand on his right shoulder. Then she grabbed his left hand with her right. “Now, just follow after me.” She began the steps with a swiftness. It took him a few minutes of nearly tripping over his own feet, but eventually, he got it well enough to where neither of them were in danger of falling. “There you go,” she grinned. “You’re a natural.”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning back with that goofy smile of his. “You never told me your name, by the way.”

She chuckled softly, “You know the whole point of a masquerade ball is to conceal your identity, right?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Of course. Right,” he nodded. After a silent moment he spoke again. “What if I tell you my name first?”

“Depends,” she hummed. “If your name starts with a ‘J’, not only am I not telling you my name, I’m walking away,” she joked.

He fully laughed at that. “Nick,” he said through laughter. “My name is Nick.”

She laughed along with him. “Oh thank goodness. Not a ‘J’ name,” she teased. “Nice to meet you Nick. I’m Celia.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he smiled, his laughter dying down.

“You can’t even see my whole face, Nick,” Celia giggled.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “And I don’t need to. You’re beautiful.”

“So, you don’t want to see my face is what I’m hearing?” she joked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Need and want are two different things,” he grinned. “I don’t need to see your entire face to know that you’re absolutely gorgeous. But, I do want to see your entire face at some point.”

She felt like her face was burning up. She was absolutely flustered. But she didn’t want to let that show. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll see my face around midnight,” she shot him a wink. “But I want to see yours too.”

“What do I have to do to turn that maybe into a yes?”

She smirked, “Make my night, Nick.”

Several hours and glasses of champagne later, they’d learned a bit about each other. She learned that he loved to play drums, ride motorcycles, and fish, trout specifically. He’d grown up in the town over and pursued drumming right out of high school. He learned that she loved to dance, crochet, and read books, mysteries specifically. She worked as a dental hygienist at an office in town. They discovered that their senses of humor were similar. It seemed that there wasn’t a moment that they weren’t laughing at something the other said.

Maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe it was just the fact that they were so drawn to each other. But Celia found herself leading Nick to a room upstairs, and he followed her more than willingly. Once they entered the room and locked the door, he had her backed up against the wall. He leaned in to kiss her, but she lifted her hand and pressed her pointer finger to his lips. “You can’t kiss my lips until midnight,” she whispered. “Nor can you take off my mask. Or your own. Those are my only conditions.”

“Anything you wish, Celia,” Nick whispered back. He tilted his head and pressed his full lips to her neck. She moved her hair and stretched her neck to give him better access. He kissed up and down the expanse of her neck until he placed a kiss upon her pulse point. A shuddering sigh escaped her parted lips. “Right there?” he murmured against the skin. The soft whimper that followed was all the answer he needed. He began to nip gently at the skin above her pulse point. The crown of her head softly thudded against the wall behind her, quiet whimpers left her mouth.

When he pulled away, the slightest hint of a mark was left. He groaned at the sight of it in the low light. He began to kiss down her chest until his lips hit the neckline of her dress. The next thing she knew, he was on his knees before her. He looked up at her through his mask, eyes wide, pupils blown. “May I taste you?”

She looked down at him, “Please.”

He smiled at her, not a smirk, a genuine smile. He didn’t seem smug about the situation. He seemed happy, grateful even. He placed his gloved hands on the back of her calves before slowly sliding them up her legs until they met her panties. He began to slide them down her legs, noticing as her breathing picked up. “Are you okay, honey?” he breathed, pausing his actions to look up into her eyes.

Her heart nearly burst at the action and sight before her. “Yeah,” she breathed, a small giggle prominent in her words. “Keep going, please.”

Nick leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the skin of her thigh that was exposed by the slit in her dress as he pulled her panties down the rest of the way. Red lace pooled at her ankles. He looked up at her once more. “Can you hold your dress up for me?”

Celia nodded, her hands grasping her dress and pulling it up to expose herself to him. She watched as he looked directly at her center. He licked his lips before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her clit. While there wasn’t much pressure to it, she found herself moaning anyway. This encouraged him to slide his tongue through her folds and back up to her clit, flatting his tongue with a groan. Her hands gripped the fabric of her dress harder, her knuckles turning white. He continued to lick her until he knees began to shake and his face was covered in her slick. “Nick,” she whimpered. “I’m so close.”

With those words, he pulled away from her. “Do you want to…?” He trailed off, as if shy to ask for sex, even though he just had his face buried in her pussy.

She nodded as she tried to catch her breath. “Please,” she whimpered. “I need you.” She let go of her dress, letting it fall to its normal length as she reached for his hand. He stood up and walked him to the bed in the middle of the room. She lay on the bed and he followed, hovering over her as her legs spread open for him. She heard the clink of his belt and the zipper of his pants. Then she felt the head of his warm cock tapping against her clit, drawing a mewl from her. He ran the head through her slick folds a few times before he began to push in, her back arching off the bed as he filled her.

Once she adjusted to the delicious stretch, she grinded her hips into his, urging him to move. He started off with slow, deep thrusts. Each thrust resulted in a breathy moan from Celia and a deep grunt from Nick. “Go faster,” she whined after a while. It felt great, but she needed more. Nick was happy to oblige, quickening the pace of his hips, slamming into her at a mind breaking speed. She had to force her moans down; force herself to be quiet.

Her walls began to pulse around him. Nick knew what that probably meant. He snaked his hand between their bodies and pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing it in quick right circles. Celia’s back arched off the bed as she tried, and failed, to hold back a loud whine. “I-I’m close,” she whimpered for the second time of the night.

“Come for me,” Nick breathed. His thrusts were getting sloppy as he got closer himself. Shortly after his demand, she pulsed around him uncontrollably, bringing a hand to her mouth to suppress the uncontrollable moans escaping her. He managed to keep himself under control through her entire orgasm. “Where do you want it?” he asked frantically once she had ridden through her orgasm.

“Inside,” she breathed. “I’m on birth control.” That was all Nick needed to completely come undone. He buried himself deep inside of her as his cock twitched and unloaded all of his seed.

He slowly pulled out after his orgasm, causing them both to groan from the loss. He laid next to her for a moment, both of them catching their breath. After a minute, Celia stood, put her panties back on, and adjusted her dress. She walked over to the mirror that was in the room and fixed her hair as well. Nick stood and fixed his pants before walking up and hugging her from behind. “Did you enjoy yourself,” he whispered in her ear.

She turned to face him. “Of course I did,” she grinned. “Did you?”

“Absolutely.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “Do you have the time?”

Nick pulled his phone from his pocket, “11:45.”

“Would you like to be my New Year’s kiss?” She asked, tilting her head.

Nick nodded, “I would love to be your New Year’s kiss.”

She grabbed his hand, “Come on, then.”

30 seconds until midnight, everyone in attendance stood downstairs with a glass of champagne, waiting excitedly for the ten second countdown. Celia stood with Nick, arms linked. She looked up at him. “How about we take our masks off when the countdown starts?”

Nick looked down at her with that amazing goofy smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

Before they knew it, the countdown was starting.

“10!”

They made eye contact.

“9!”

They pulled their masks off.

“8! 7!”

“You’re so beautiful,” Nick whispered.

“6! 5!”

“You’re so handsome,” Celia whispered back.

“4! 3!”

They stared at each other, eyes wide.

“2!”

They began to lean in.

“1! Happy New Year!”

Their lips met in a passionate kiss. Both of their masks dropped to the floor so they could hold each other’s faces as their lips moved perfectly in sync. So perfectly in sync that any bystander would have figured they’d kissed hundreds, even thousands, of times before. And they both knew at that moment that this wouldn’t be the end of them.

#bad omens #nick folio #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio fanfic #bad omens smut #nick folio smut #nick folio x oc #nick folio x fem!oc #sinkingteethinwhitenoise

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listenheresweaty · 9 months

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Ok uh here goes

Can I get revivedbur headcanons for a reader who was very hurt by his betrayal? Like all rev wants to do is be nice to reader and love them but they want nothing to do with him?

-roses 🥀

ohhh boy my first ask

first off i wanna say that i absolutely love this idea. perfect angst fodder mmm

im not that great at writing angst. when im not sure what to write i add a lot of insignificant details until i get motivation. so hopefully this is satisfying :) If not, i'll try to come up with some more concise headcanons for wilbur trying to regain the reader's affections.

-----

First off, I'd like to point out that Wilbur right after revival and Wilbur a couple days after revival (especially after the events of hitting on 16) are quite different

When he's freshly revived, Wilbur is ecstatic. He's alive, rejuvenated, and ready to cause mayhem in every conceivable corner of the server.

Ever the ambitious man, his first concerns are with gaining power--- or, rather, interfering with power. He wants to become relevant, involved in the incessant, political push-and-pull of mankind that has interested him since a young age.

Eventually, though, the adrenaline wears off and he starts thinking about the people in his life. Tommy, who he had immediately recruited for his expeditions to Las Nevadas. Phil and Technoblade, who he visited gladly. And you. You're there, just a short 5 minute walk from Technoblade's house.

Wilbur's sitting at the table with Phil, making small talk about the weather or something when you walk in, throwing open the door with a huff and brushing the snow out of your hair. You look a mess, hair wet and plastered to your cheeks and your nose red and sniffling.

God, how he's missed you.

You freeze when you see him, your voice dying in your throat.

Wilbur smiles oh so sweetly, opening his mouth to speak.

Phil accidentally interrupts him, standing up and explaining the situation to you--- yes, the rumors were true. Yes, Dream is on his necromancer arc. No, he's not Ghostbur.

Wilbur tries his best to speak with you, but it's hard with Phil and Techno there. And for some reason you won't speak to him directly, asking all questions about him to Phil, such as "When was he revived? Was it really dream who revived him?"

When you do address him, your answers are clipped, polite but distant.

He figures it's just because it's awkward with Phil around.

But even when he manages to catch you alone, you try to push him away, glaring at him before stalking off with your jaw clenched and your face hidden from his view.

ouch.

That doesn't deter him for long: Quackity had brushed him off with an eye roll and a dismissive wave of the hand, and yet their rivalry is still underlined by a vague sense of respect and friendliness. (keyword: vague). So, he'll just act the same as he does with Quackity!

But as soon as he starts pestering you too, popping up in your house to nick a few items and smirk at you, the look in your eyes stops him dead in his tracks.

"Get out of my house, Soot!" Your tone of voice catches him off guard. There isn't a trace of amusement or playful exasperation. Your annoyance is so profound it borders on disgust.

All the lighthearted mischievousness that had been previously dancing in his rib cage is extinguished in a heartbeat. His smirk fades, and he stands in silence.

"Didn't you fucking hear me? Get out!"

"Darling, I-I.. " He laughs nervously. "I was just joking, you can have your stuff back---"

"I don't care if you steal, leave or burn them. I want you out of my house."

"But--... I don't--"

"---And don't call me darling."

"I don't understand."

"What? What don't you understand?"

"I didn't.. I just want to talk." He raises his hands in surrender, exhaling slowly. "I just wanted to talk."

"I don't want to talk." You say, quiet and composed once more. "You aren't welcome here. Just--- get out. Please."

He wanted to stay and argue, but something about the way you were looking at him was almost more suffocating than Limbo. He turned tail and nearly bolted out of there.

---

He doesn't visit you for a while after that. It's even worse if you had been attached to Ghostbur--- because of course you were attached to Ghostbur.

And after hitting on 16? When he goes on his apology arc?

If people don't accept your apology, Phil had said, you need to let them go.

And so Wilbur does the same thing with you as he did with Tommy: avoiding you like the plague in fear of having to inevitably let you go.

He still spends his time thinking about you, of course. Whenever you two accidentally end up in the same area, he stands to the side, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

The only way he's going to end up talking to you is if Eret sets it up, not revealing it to either of you until you're face to face.

You've calmed down since your last encounter with Wilbur. Although your opinions haven't changed, you willingly sit down to talk with him.

He, too, is less insistent with his apology. "Listen, I-I.. I know this won't fix things. I don't expect them to."

Wilbur pauses, and you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.

"But you-- you mean a lot to me." He says, wincing at the immediate scoff from you. "You do. You mean the world to me."

"Months. Months you lied to me, in Pogtopia. Months we all spent slaving away to get L'Manburg back-- and I did it all for you! I fought for that country because you loved it like life itself. You watched us fight for it, you let us bleed and sweat and shed tears for it, all while knowing all our efforts would be in vain because you'd be blowing it to pieces regardless. And then you up and left! You left us all, left us to pick up your pieces and drag your body to be buried. "

" ______." Wilbur said your name, quietly.

"-- And you proposed to me! The day beforewe were about to fight to get back L'Manburg, you got down on one knee and proposed.--"

"______." Wilbur repeated.

"You promised we'd have a life after the war. You looked me in the eyes and promised me this, knowing damn well what would happen the next day."

Wilbur doesn't say anything. His shoulders sag, deflating.

You sigh too. "And then you're revived. Months go by, I don't hear a word from you--- not that I was asking to--- and now you're apologizing."

Wilbur falls silent. "I'm selfish."

You purse your lips and move to speak, but he cuts you off.

"I'm not saying that to provoke pity or fish for compliments or serve an excuse. I'm just stating the fact. I am, at heart, a selfish person. I-- that's why I proposed to you that day. I-I knew it would hurt. I thought it would.. keep you closer, wanting to avoid you leaving me. Even though I was the one leaving." He exhales, running a hand through his hair.

The brutal honesty has you dumbfounded, searching for any traces of trickery or manipulation-- but not finding any. He seems genuine. Incredibly self-depreciating, but genuine.

"..And that's the reason I haven't apologized to you until now." Wilbur continues, seeing that you weren't going to speak. "I didn't.. I couldn't bear to hear a formal rejection."

You don't know what to do, having exhausted yourself with your outburst earlier. So you just nod in understanding.

"I-I'm going to be honest. I really, really don't want to let you go. But I've promised myself that that's what I'll do if you don't accept my apology. If you want me to leave you alone, say the word. You won't have to see me again. But if there's anything I can do, anything to earn a second chance for myself--- I'll do it." He rambles on. "I don't need you to love me. I want you to--- I really want you too-- but I don't need you to. I just don't want you to hate me."

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully. "I don't hate you."

He looks relieved, hope lighting up his features.

"...But I don't know if I'll accept your apology."

His face falls.

"I know I don't accept it right now. And I think that's understandable. I want to accept it sometime in the future, Wilbur, I just.. I need time."

Wilbur nods, mouth twitching as he works up the nerve to speak. "Would you.. prefer if I stayed away, during that time?"

"I don't want you to outright avoid me." You admit. "If we happen to end up in the same place together, I´ll talk to you. But I think some distance would be helpful."

"Yeah." He manages, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I'll... I can wait."

Wilbur looks back up at you. "I'll wait for you." He promises.

and then he leaves for utah

#roses anon #anon ask #revivedbur x reader #c!wilbur x reader #dsmp wilbur #revived wilbur #c wilbur #c: wlbr #dsmp x reader #revivebur #wilbur soot angst #and for anyone who says that c!wilbur doesn't stutter: yes he does. it may be just an effect from his dialogue being mostly improvised #but he does stammer under pressure. not exactly in a shy way. in an excited #impassioned run-hands-through-hair kinda way #the reader is kind of a bitch in this my bad #“bitch” i say in a gender neutral fashion #and then he leaves for utah and you never see him again haha #sweaty “writes”

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nuttyblizzardinternet · 2 months

Text

Tiffany Valentine headcannons for my upcoming fan fic

Full name: Tiffany Beatrice Valentine

Age: 23 (before the events of bride)

Appearance: 5'7, curvy, asian italian mix, dark curly hair, brown eyes,

Personal life: Grew up in a small town in Illinois was poor lived with her mother and younger sister. Father left when she was 12 went to go to the store for a pack of cigarettes and never came back. Lived in a small house and had a collection of porcelain dolls and thrift store nick nacks had a thing for becoming a super model and was into fashion. Ran away from home at 16 and joined a delinquent gang of misfits. Started smoking, dressed edgy and dyed her hair to fit in. Went to jail for 2 years for vandalism and got released. Moved into a trailer park and works a 9 to 5 job at a diner in Lockport Illinois serving as a waitress and is a culprit behind a mysterious case of murders.

Relationships: Charles Lee Ray dated for 6 years til his untimely death and spent ten years searching for him

Family:

(Mother) Eudora Rose Valentine

ʲᵉʷⁱˢʰ/ ⁱᵗᵃˡⁱᵃⁿ/ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵘᵖˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ʸᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵍᵉ: 50

(Father) Franklin Karter Peterson

ᶜʰⁱⁿᵉˢᵉ/ ⁱᵗᵃˡⁱᵃⁿ/ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁿᵉʷ ʲᵉʳˢᵉʸ ᵃᵍᵉ: 53

(Sister) Wendy Lia Valentine

ᶜʰⁱⁿᵉˢᵉ/ ⁱᵗᵃˡⁱᵃⁿ/ ʲᵉʷⁱˢʰ/ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵒⁱˢ ᵃᵍᵉ: 19

Pets: Tarantula named Charlotte and a fish named Gary

Hobbies: sewing, knitting, collecting, baking, gardening, driving, sight seeing, shopping, and murder

Music taste: soft rock, 60s and 80s pop, and grunge favorite artists include, Blondie, Madonna, Nancy Sinatra, and Courtney Love.

Favorite foods: Cherry cheesecake, Salmon, and grilled chicken.

Favorite drinks: red wine, iced tea, and cherry pepsi

Home:

Interior:

Follow pt2. For more

#tiffanyvalentine #brideofchucky #headcannons #chucky #slasher #info #trailer trash barbie

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rankirakira · 5 months

Text

WARNING SCOTT PILGRIM TAKES OFF SPOILERS

U have been warned so...

Aaaa I binged watch the Scott Pilgrim Takes Off anime in one day instead of doing college homework lol. I have no one to talk to about the Scott Pilgrim anime 😭 so here i info dumping and ranting it.

I read comics and watched the movie in highschool and i also played the game on my Switch. Gosh it's an amazing adaptation and it reference all of them in the anime. Also, the anime feels like a what if or alternate universe imo. I feel like it's better to watch the live action or read the graphic novel or played the video game first imo to understand the easter eggs and references.

Bcs I am so happy that Anamanaguchi came back from the Scott Pigrim game and aaaa there was the game soundtrack in the anime.

Also the ending and the plotline of Ramona being more responsible and facing her exes reminds me of Ramona's ending in the Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World video game. So I'm happy the anime took this route

Things I love in Scott Pilgrim Takes Off ❤️:

The animation and music ❤️❤️❤️

Scott and Ramona realize their mistakes in their past love relationships

Scott and Ramona dynamic is more cuter imo

Scene of Ramona dying her hair

League of Evil Exes interactions aka Gordon and Luke being besties

The unexpected character dynamics, for example, I didn't expect one sided Todd x Wallace 👀

Gayer scenes ( More Wallace and More Roxie)

So many Lucas Lee (He's my fav also I am a Chris Evans so I am bias)

Love how meta and self referential the anime is bcs they reference the original source and other adaptations

Simon Pegg and Nick Frost cameo

The Director Edgar Wright aka Edgar Wrong spoof

Epilogue and Side character developments basically the exes having good endings like Matthew Patel's musical career and Buff barista Lucas

Is the Musical a sign that we might get a Scott Pilgrim musical???

Sparks✨️✨️✨️

Things I wish was in the Scott Pilgrim Takes Off aka me being nitpicking sorry 😭

Hoping that Todd moves on from Wallace bcs the Wallace Heart tattoo is a red flag

Surprised there was no Wallace and Lucas interactions or Wallace's crush on Lucas scenes like the original

No Stephen's boyfriend, Joseph 😭 orStephen Stills being gay scene

Was hoping for a timeskip that Kim and Knives (as a college student) became a couple. Love the duet they had tho❤️

Hopefully there is a season 2 or spin-off perhaps. Overall, I am very satisfied and I would love to rewatch Scott Pilgrim Takes Off over and over again. I love it❤️❤️❤️ Sorry for the long rant. I have no one to talk to about it

#my rants #my thoughts #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim anime #Scott Pilgrim Takes Off spoilers #Spto spoilers #Spoilers #Scott Pilgrim anime spoilers

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 months

Text

Not-Magic

A JSE Fanfic

Septics Inverted AU

First IRIS Chapter | Previous

(Heyyyy, what's upppp, it's meeee. Back with another chapter after so long. Seriously. So long. This has been the longest gap between IRIS Inverted chapters yet, I think. Tbh that's because I started writing Many Roads Diverge. A CYOA-style fic takes a LOT of work. But here we are now! Jackie and Frederick continue their investigation into IRIS by visiting other magicians. Meanwhile, Jack is having some trouble. Then Jackie makes a phone call. Enjoy!)

- - - - - - - - - -

Jackie couldn’t sit still for the rest of the car ride. He wanted to jump out and run until he found Chase. One of his best friends had just been basically kidnapped by a shady semi-magical organization, and he was just supposed to stay in the car after that? What the fuck? But Frederick was right, they had a limited window of time to meet up with the rest of the magicians. And Jackie needed more information about this IRIS, information that they could help him with.

The safe house was in Mirygale, which naturally made Jackie nervous. He was still technically a wanted criminal in this city. But he told himself that nobody would see him, as they were just going straight to the house. Not like they were walking around where a crowd of people could see his face. And even if they did, most people probably wouldn’t recognize Jackie, anyway. He’d changed a lot since his arrest and escape.

“Is this it?” Jackie asked as Frederick parked on the side of the road in a residential neighborhood. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“Good, that’s the point.” Frederick turned the car off. “We’re going in that one.” He pointed at a brown brick townhouse, identical to the rest of the brown brick townhouses around it.

“Alright, let’s go then.” The sooner they could talk to the magicians about IRIS, the sooner they could track them down, and the sooner Jackie could beat the shit out of them for taking Chase.

The two of them left the car behind and walked up the steps to the front door. Jackie hung back a bit, allowing Frederick to take the lead. Which he did, knocking on the door. And the door opened almost instantly. “Ah, I was wondering where you two were.”

“Hey, Eve.” Frederick grinned. “Sorry, we got, uh... delayed a bit.”

Jackie leaned around him. “Hi, Yvonne.”

“Hey, Jackie.” Yvonne gave him a nod. She was wearing a casual brown suit—dressed for work, clearly, as that wasn’t her usual style. But her hair was as vibrant as ever, cut short and dyed in blues and purples. “Come on in, Briony’s beside herself.”

Frederick sighed. “I know. Let’s go.”

The interior of the house was pretty normal. The front door led to a short hallway with a staircase for second-floor access. “That’s where we’re keeping all the magical stuff,” Yvonne said to Jackie, gesturing up the staircase. “But Briony and Nick are just in the living room here.”

“And it’s just them? I thought you guys had a whole team?” Jackie asked.

“Not everyone could make it right now,” Yvonne explained. “But the other four will be here later today if you want to hang around.”

“No, that’s fine.” Jackie shook his head.

“We do have a bit of a drive back,” Frederick added. “Let’s just... hurry along.”

Yvonne nodded. “Over here, then.” She walked over to an arch leading into a wide living room. “Hey guys, they’re here.”

Two others were in the living room. A dark-skinned man with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a woman with blonde frizzy hair and glasses. He was sitting in the room’s singular armchair while she was pacing back and forth in front of the window. They both wore similar casual suits to Yvonne—the ABIM must’ve had a dress code. That certainly made Jackie feel self-conscious in his favorite hoodie (black with red patches, he’d had it for ages now.) Frederick wasn’t wearing this suit uniform either, but his usual way of dressing was nice enough that he didn’t look too out of place.

“There you are!” The pacing woman whirled around to see them. “I swear, Frederick, you’re never—oh my god!” Her eyes had locked onto Jackie. Specifically, Jackie’s face.

“Briony,” the man said in a warning tone.

Frederick casually took a step closer to Jackie. “Sorry about that,” he said quickly. “We got delayed for a bit, but we did find out something that... well, I don’t know if it will help with the investigation, but it is some new information. Briony, Nick, this is Jackie, I’ve told you about. Jackie, Briony and Nick.”

“Hi.” Jackie forced himself to smile.

“Lovely to meet you,” Nick said, standing up. “So sorry about Briony, she has no social tact.”

“Wh—hey!” Briony said, glaring at him. She turned back to Jackie with a guilty expression. “I’m so sorry about that, I just didn’t expect—I-I didn’t mean any offense. I’ve never seen—I’m so sorry. Truly.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but Jackie could get over it. His scars and eye-patch usually got stares. He looked at Frederick. “So, I’m guessing you didn’t tell them everything about me.”

“I told them everything important,” Frederick said. “And everything I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“Hah.” Jackie gave him a small smile. “That’s, uh... yeah. Good.” He leaned a bit closer to him.

“Let’s not waste any time, shall we?” Yvonne said, hurriedly jumping in. “The camera we got is still in the detection box.”

“Right. Time to go take it out.” Nick checked a watch on his wrist. “Head on upstairs, everyone.”

The group left the living room and went up the stairs. And it’s here that the resemblance to a normal house faded away. There were symbols painted on the walls. Runes, drawn in lines, squares, and circles. Jackie vaguely recognized some of them. They were geared towards protection and containment. As they walked past, Briony tapped some of the runes, little zaps of mauve magic leaving her hands and causing the runes to glow the same color. Were these the wards?

“So, Jackie, Frederick said you met while on a case?” Nick asked, trying for some casual conversation.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. There was this guy I knew, he was a magician. A fucking evil one. H-he went all crazy one day and attacked me and my friends. Frederick and Yvonne were on that case, so they showed up to help us.”

“Then you guys stole my car,” Frederick added.

“You got it back eventually,” Jackie said defensively, making Frederick laugh.

“That’s the same guy who burned Frederick’s hand off, right?” Briony asked.

“Well that’s a light way of putting it,” Frederick said. “But yes.”

“That’s... where all this came from.” Jackie gestured at his face. “The magic lingered for a while until Frederick found me and healed me.” He shook his head. “So glad that guy’s in jail now. Hope he rots.”

The group walked into the last room down the hall, a medium-sized room that could’ve been a bedroom in an actual house, but was instead filled with tables that held all sorts of strange objects. Crystal spheres of many colors, mirrors and painting with abstract designs, feathers and bottles and thin wands of wood and metal. In the center of the room was a table with a box the size of a printer. The box was made of a silvery metal. Its surface shifted with faint designs, like sunlight passing through ocean waves.

Briony tapped the side of the silver box. The designs stopped, shifting to form a phrase: OBJECT READY. REMOVE OBJECT. “Right,” she said. “Nick?” Nick nodded and walked over to join her. Each of them put their hands on two corners of the box. They whispered something in unison, their eyes glowing together—Briony’s that same mauve color, Nick’s a brighter yellow-green—and then lifted the top of the box off. They set the lid on the table next to it and Nick reached inside, pulling out... another box. This one was made of a coppery metal instead of silver.

“So, I’m guessing that’s the detection box,” Jackie said, pointing at the big silver box. “What’s that, then? Doesn’t look like a camera.”

Briony smiled a little. “We keep unknown magical items in these. They muffle all magical waves and signals.”

“Here, come look,” Nick said, sitting the box on the table. Jackie hesitated, but when Frederick and Yvonne walked over he did as well.

The top of the box was transparent, like glass. Inside was what looked like an old-fashioned security camera made of white plastic and metal. On the side of the camera was a symbol in black. Like an eye with three pupils. “Hmm. Looks pretty normal,” Jackie said, aware of how unhelpful that was.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Yvonne agreed. “That’s what the detection box is for. Picking up stuff that is abnormal. Now where’re the results?”

“Briony puts the paper actually in the box, remember?” Frederick said.

“I don’t want to lose it!” Briony said defensively, already reaching back into the detection box. After a couple seconds, she pulled out an ordinary piece of printer paper and slapped it down on the table next to the camera. “Here we are.”

On the paper was silvery writing, like someone had used a metallic glitter pen to record the results. Magic signature detected, it said. Combat: none. Divination: none. Soul: none. Necromancy: none. Health: none. Transformation: none. Conjuration: none. Illusory: none. Mental: none. And it kept going like that. Jackie skimmed the list to the bottom, where something was finally different. Light magic object. Black magic object.

“That’s... weird,” Yvonne said.

“There are several things wrong with this,” Frederick agreed. Nick and Briony just looked concerned.

“And what are those several things?” Jackie asked.

“Well, it’s not supposed to list out every branch of magic like this,” Frederick explained. “It’s just supposed to tell you if the object is light magic or black magic, and what branch of magic it is, not all the ones it isn’t. And, of course, it’s supposed to tell you what the object can do.”

“So... the camera short-circuited your magical detection device,” Jackie summed up.

“Pretty much,” Nick agreed.

“Frederick, you didn’t mention this.” Briony pointed at the two phrases at the end. “It’s impossible for a single object to use both light and black magic.”

“What?” Jackie blinked, confused. “But... magicians can use light and black magic, can’t they? I mean, I’m told black magic has side effects, but using it doesn’t somehow close you off from using light magic. It’s like a spectrum, right?”

Frederick gave him a small, proud smile. “It is. But it’s different with objects. Objects can’t choose to use magic, they can only do what the person intended them to. And once you imbue an object with a purpose that leans more to the light or the dark, then any attempts to put the opposite end of the spectrum into the enchantment don’t work. They fizzle out if you’re lucky and literally blow up if you’re not.”

Jackie nodded slowly. “Alright. So that’s super weird for the camera, right?”

“So weird,” Nick muttered.

“What if you put something that’s not magic in the detection box?” Jackie asked. “Like... a regular pen or something.”

Briony shrugs. “Then the detection won’t work. The cycle will cut short if there’s no magical signature. And before you ask, the containment box is built to work with the detection, the detection will go right through it.”

Jackie went quiet for a moment. “What if it emits a different type of signature?”

Frederick tilted his head. “Like what?”

“I dunno. Radiation, or something.”

Yvonne raised an eyebrow. “Why and how would we have something radioactive to put in the detection box?”

“I don’t know! I’m just asking!” Jackie said defensively. “People are stupid and curious, surely someone in the history of magicians has tried to put fucking... plutonium or whatever into the magic box.”

Frederick leaned back against a nearby table. “Are you saying the camera is radioactive?”

“No, I’m just...” Jackie shook his head.

“No, keep going,” Frederick said. “I think I know where you’re going. It’s about the weird magical signature IRIS locations give off, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jackie nodded, relieved. “What if that’s not really magic? But something else? Not radiation, obviously, otherwise people would know, but... something like it?”

Briony’s eyes lit up. “Something similar to magic that isn’t actually magic? That... that would make sense, actually. It’d be close enough that we can pick it up, but different enough that we couldn’t actually identify it.”

“If we’re opening up the possibility, what if IRIS has just invented a new branch of magic?” Nick asked.

“Well, we’d have to think about what IRIS could do with a new branch of magic,” Yvonne said. “This camera—it’s called a WTCHR camera, remember? And we’ve all read the description and instructions that came in the box.” As she said this, she walked over to a table by the door and picked up a manual, looking just like any other instruction booklet that came with any other electronic product. “Most of it is just a really good camera, but it claims it can identify emotions and whether or not someone’s telling the truth. That’s the odd part, and that could be accomplished with scrying magic or mental magic. IRIS wouldn’t need to invent something new.”

“But what if it’s not magic?” Frederick pointed out.

“It would definitely explain why your fucking... magic box got error’ed out,” Jackie said.

Nick frowned, doubtful. “We can keep it in mind. Talk about it with the others. In the meantime, what do we do with the camera?”

In unison, they all looked at it. “I guess we just keep it,” Briony said. “Run it through a couple tests, maybe? I’m wondering if there are any other unusual properties it has.”

“What sort of tests?” Jackie asked, intrigued.

“Oh, you know. See how durable it is, see if it retains its weird magic signature after taking parts off, see if we can make it do stuff that it’s not supposed to.” Briony looked excited listing off these ideas.

“But, uh, we don’t need to be here for that,” Yvonne said. “Just the wizards. That’s... sort of their specialty. Learning about magic stuff.”

“Should we leave, then?” Frederick asked.

“Seems a waste to ask you guys to drive all the way out here and then send you right back,” Nick said. “Besides, didn’t you say something about new information, Rick?”

Frederick winced, irritated. “Frederick. Or Fengge.”

“Sorry.”

Frederick gave Jackie a long-suffering look that said this wasn’t the first time Nick had pulled something like that, then looked back at the others. “Yeah. We, uh... do you want to talk about it, Jackie?”

Jackie nodded. He and Frederick had discussed it in the car, and Jackie had agreed the others needed to know. He took a deep breath, preparing himself. “We’re, uh... We were... Part of the reason we were a bit late was because I wanted to go visit a friend of mine while I was already out. But when I got there, I was told that he was... moved somewhere else. Somewhere IRIS has control of.”

The others all instantly sharpened their attention. “You... you mean Chase, right?” Yvonne asked.

“Yeah.” Jackie asked.

“IRIS is kidnapping people?” Nick asked, shocked.

“Well, no, not—I mean, it is basically kidnapping, but...” Jackie paused, conjuring up his pre-prepared vague explanation. “Chase was living in a, uh, facility, of sorts. I-I don’t want to give out too many details if I don’t have to, it’s his business, but basically, it’s a place where it’s not weird to get transferred somewhere else. And they transferred him to IRIS.”

“A government-run facility?” Briony asked.

“...Basically.”

“Those are not good implications,” Nick said darkly.

“We know,” Frederick said. “It means that IRIS is able to freely contact the government and make demands of them. And it means that they want people for something.”

“Your friend... Chase, was it?” Nick asked. Jackie nodded to confirm his name. “Has he had any exposure to magic? Like you have?”

“Yeah, we both knew the same magician,” Jackie said. “Marvin Moore.”

“Moore hurt Chase, but his wounds were tended to immediately,” Frederick added. “There was no time for the magic to fester. But he spent a long time in contact with Moore. It’s possible that some magic traces linger. Very faint traces.”

Yvonne frowned. “I doubt that. It’s been, what, a year since those two had contact? I think the traces would’ve faded by now. Maybe... maybe IRIS grabbed Chase randomly.”

“If they were grabbing random people, they would’ve grabbed someone with no connections,” Jackie said. “Chase has connections. I visit him, his kids sometimes visit him, and people—people know who he is. They’d notice if he vanished. Case in point, I noticed when it happened! No, i-it has to be something else.”

“I suppose IRIS could’ve somehow... heard about Marvin Moore and realized Chase was connected,” Briony said reluctantly. “But that means that they were aware of us before we were aware of them.”

“It would also mean you could be in danger,” Nick said, looking at Jackie.

Frederick straightened. “They wouldn’t go for him. We live together. It’s too dangerous to try and grab him.” There was a hard edge to his voice that Jackie rarely heard but which made his face redden a little.

“Is there something special about Chase?” Yvonne asked. “Besides his location being easier to reach? Because I would argue that it would be quite difficult to get him out of there. Did Chase go through something you didn’t? Magically-related?”

Jackie thought about it. “Um... it’s not magic, but... he was in a coma for a while. About two months.”

Frederick’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, if I’m remembering right, wasn’t that coma caused by Anti?”

Jackie gritted his teeth. “Yeah. It was.” Fucking bitch... you don’t just put people in comas no matter how much you hate them.

“You know... Anti isn’t magic,” Frederick said slowly. “But he can do things that seem like it.”

Jackie stared at him. “Are you saying... IRIS is like Anti?”

“Um...” Briony raised her hand. “Who’s Anti?”

Jackie sighed, already feeling exhausted at the idea of explaining all this. “Anti is Anti. He’s not human. He’s not a demon. He’s not a spirit. He’s something else. One of a kind.” He paused. “He’s also an asshole, but he’s not like... evil. He doesn’t hurt people.” Or at least, people who don’t deserve it.

“Didn’t you just say he caused your friend’s coma?” Briony asked.

“Long story. The point is Frederick thinks that IRIS’s not-magic could be like what Anti does.”

“Maybe not exactly, but it’s a good starting point,” Frederick said.

“Can you guys contact this... Anti?” Nick asked.

Jackie frowned. “I don’t know... It’s kind of hard to reach something like him. We could try to track down Jack—that’s a friend of his, he’s human. But, uh... don’t know if it would look that good coming from me. Jack and I... have a rough history.”

“Then we’ll do it,” Yvonne said, gesturing at herself and the other magicians. “We have ways of tracking down people.”

“You make it sound menacing when you say it like that, Eve,” Frederick said, a faint smile on his face.

“I... guess you guys can try,” Jackie said slowly. “Even just getting close to Jack will probably cause Anti to react. Jack is... sensitive.” That was a mild way of saying ‘traumatized by being kidnapped multiple times.’ “But I can’t be involved in this. Not until you explain the situation to Anti. We don’t exactly like each other.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be careful,” Yvonne assured him.

“Please do be.” Jackie didn’t like the idea of Anti getting involved, but if he could help... Maybe he would recognize the greater evil of IRIS. An organization that secretly takes people couldn’t have good intentions, regardless of what those people had done.

- - - - - - - - - -

Jack pulled the blinds on the window back a little bit, looking down at the street below. It was empty. But he didn’t trust that.

Static fizzled next to his ear. “Are they gone?” Anti asked.

“I don’t see them anymore,” Jack said slowly. “But I don’t think they would’ve just left.” All morning, there’d been a white car parked on the street below. Not unusual in and of itself. But who would park in this tiny side street in between apartment buildings? Combined with IRIS’s repeated phone calls, it made Jack nervous.

Anti’s form fizzled a little bit. “They didn’t,” he reported. “I just checked the building’s security cameras. The car moved to the front. I don’t know if we’re still in range of their equipment, but they’re definitely not going anywhere.” When Jack had pointed out the car to Anti, he confirmed that—as normal as it looked from the outside—it belonged to IRIS. He could sense some of their equipment inside.

Jack shut the blinds. Sam flew over and nuzzled against his face, telling him not to worry. “No, I’m going to worry,” Jack said. “How the fuck am I supposed to not worry about this? People have never shown up at my house! Even the crazier fans haven’t gone that far yet. And even if they had, they’re just one or two people, not a whole fucking organization!”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Anti said firmly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Jack sighed, pressing his head against the window. “Do we have to move? I don’t want to move. I don’t want to go on the fucking run again.”

Anti hesitated. “I’m sorry. But... we might... have to.”

“It just... everything was finally working out,” Jack mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” Anti said quietly.

“No, don’t be, it’s not your fault.”

“It really is,” Anti admitted. “IRIS is after me. They’re only going after you to get to me. Maybe... maybe if I leave for a while—”

“No don’t!” Jack said hurriedly. Sam jumped up into the air, bobbing up and down in agreement with him. “I-I don’t—If something happens—B-besides, that’d just mean they win, wouldn’t it?”

Anti blinked. Then grinned. “I guess it would.”

“Y-yeah.” Jack gave him a weak smile. “Uh... I’m going to... try and keep my mind off this. Try and do something to relax. Maybe I have a game that I can... Uh, I-I’ll be in the other room. Tell me if anything happens with them.”

“I will,” Anti promised.

“Great.” Jack smiled again and turned around, heading deeper into the apartment.

Sam stayed where they were, watching him go. {Anti.}

Anti jumped a little. Even though Sam could talk to him, they usually didn’t, so it always surprised him when they decided to. “What is it?”

{You stay here.} Sam flew closer, pressing against his chest and looking up at him, pupil dilated wide. {Bad things might happen.}

Anti looked down at them. “Anything... specific?”

{No. But there’s a bad feeling. You should stay here. Don’t leave.}

“A bad feeling, huh?” Anti nodded slowly. He’d known Sam long enough to trust their feelings. They had an uncanny ability to know what people should and shouldn’t do. “Alright. I won’t leave. And I’ll... be prepared.” His hand glitched, turning into pixels, and he showed Sam the knife he’d conjured. “If you know what I mean.”

{Uh-huh.} Sam backed away, bobbing up and down in a nodding gesture. {Jack be safe.}

“He’ll be safe. I’m ready for anything.”

{Yay!} And with that, Sam bopped against his shoulder, then flew down the hallway after Jack.

Anti watched them go with a faint smile. Then he thought about IRIS again, and the smile faded. If he was stuck in Jack’s apartment, he wouldn’t be able to hack IRIS’s servers, backdoor or not. They were very secure, and he needed to be close by to access them. But... it was a small price to pay to keep Jack safe. And if disaster was averted, he might be able to return to the servers later.

He put the knife away, letting it vanish into pixels, and jumped back into the building’s outside security cameras. The car was still there.

And it would stay there for another hour before finally driving off.

- - - - - - - - - -

Dadalada-dadalada— “Hello?”

“Wait, you’re actually awake?! Isn’t it like five in the morning over there?!”

Schneep glanced out the bedroom window at the early morning sky. “The ringtone woke me up,” he lied.

“Mm-hmm.” Jackie hummed. “So if I FaceTime you, you’ll be in bed.”

“Absolutely.” Schneep hurriedly got up from the desk chair in the corner of his room and sat down on the bed instead.

“Okay, I’ll do it, then.”

“Fine, do it.”

Jackie hung up the call, but a few seconds later Schneep’s phone began ringing again—Dadalada-dadalada—with the Caller ID screen now identifying a video call. Schneep accepted it. Jackie was clearly in a car, as evident by the headrest and seat belt. There was afternoon light coming from the windows. “There you are,” Jackie said. He narrowed his eyes. “If I woke you up, why are you wearing your glasses?”

Shit. “I put them on when you said you would video call,” Schneep said.

“Oh, okay. And you combed your hair, too?”

Schneep hesitated. Then groaned. “God damn it, Jackie, how do you fucking know what my bed hair looks like?”

“We lived together for, like, four years! What do you mean ‘how do I know’? The question is how I wouldn’t. And why are you up at five in the morning?”

“Why are you calling me at five in the morning?”

“I didn’t think you would answer! I was going to leave a message!”

“Text me instead, you dunkoff.”

“Uh, can you two get back on track?” A voice called from off screen on Jackie’s end. “Don’t you have important stuff to talk about?”

“Hello Frederick,” Schneep said, giving a little wave as Jackie turned the phone to show Frederick in the driver’s seat of the car.

“Hi.” Frederick smiled at the screen, not taking his hands off the wheel as he drove.

“What sort of ‘important stuff’ are you two calling about?” Schneep asked.

“Uh, well...” Jackie hesitated, the worry clear on his face. “I went to see Chase today... You know what, I’ll work up to that. Start at the beginning. There’s a sort of investigation going on...”

As Jackie talked, Schneep sat there, eyes growing wider with every sentence. But he stayed quiet until the end. At which point, he immediately started shouting. “What the fuck do they want with Chase?! Chase has not done anything in his l—well, no, he has done quite a lot, but he was already where he should be! And where he wanted to be, I will add. What the fuck! They cannot just—just grab people! Especially not him!”

“Right? Right?!” Jackie cried. “What the fuck are they doing?!”

“Clearly nothing good!” Schneep growled, then took a moment to breathe, calming down. This was not the time to get carried away in anger. He punched the pillow a couple times and then was fine. “Jackie. I believe I have something relevant.”

“Oh?” Jackie asked, already intrigued.

“Anti was here yesterday,” Schneep said.

“Last night, I was going to bed—”

“At what time?”

“A perfectly reasonable one, please not now.” It was 2 am. “But while I was heading there, the House did its twisty thing and I ended up somewhere else. Anti was speaking with Dark. I was curious why he was here, so I listened in. Your suspicion about Anti and IRIS is right; he has some sort of history with them. And now this organization is going after Jack. Possibly to get to Anti.”

Jackie’s expression hardened. “So they probably did take Chase because of Anti. What, does he still have traces of Anti’s power in his system after the coma?”

“It’s possible,” Frederick added. “I’m not sure how Anti’s power works in comparison to magic.”

“If you and your magicians are looking for Jack, you should keep that in mind,” Schneep continued. “You may have to beat IRIS to him.”

Jackie sighed. “This would’ve been good to know before we left the house.”

“You’re the one who didn’t want to call your friend while we were there,” Frederick said calmly.

“I am, I just—ugh.”

“It’s okay, I’ll call Yvonne about it when we get home.”

“That’ll work. In the meantime,” Jackie turned his attention back to the call. “Schneep, seriously, why are you up at five am?”

Schneep sighed. “Because I still have fucking insomnia.”

“I thought you were going to ask about sleep aids.”

“I am, but it is hard to find ones that work with my other medications.” Schneep glanced at the collection of pill bottles on the nightstand.

“Oh.” Jackie’s voice was soft. “Well... that sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, I am sure Peter can find something,” Schneep said, referring to his psychiatrist. “He is very good at what he does. I just have to wait until then. Is fine. I do not mind being up so late. I am not the only one awake in the House at night.”

“That sounds a bit ominous,” Jackie muttered.

“No, I find it comforting. Though if any of them tried to actually talk to me during this time, I am sure I would be annoyed the second it happens.”

Jackie laughed. “God, you would, wouldn’t you? Well... do you want me to stay and chat, or do you think that wouldn’t help?”

“In all honesty, it would not help,” Schneep said. “I have to be very awake to keep up with your energy, and this is not the time for that.”

“Alright, I’ll head off, then. Maybe I’ll call you later, when it’s evening here?”

“If you want. Or you could wait until tomorrow, that would be fine, too.”

“I’ll wait, then. See you, Schneep. Frederick, say goodbye to Schneep.”

“Bye, Henrik!” Frederick added.

“Goodbye, you two,” Schneep said, laughing a little.

“Bye!” Jackie waved for the camera. “Sleep well.” And with that, he ended the call.

Schneep closed out of the video call app on his phone and instead returned to what he’d been doing before Jackie called. He re-opened the phone’s browser. It had a couple different tabs open... all relating to this IRIS organization. Their website, their social medias, any page or article he could find about them.

He’d been curious about them ever since he overheard Anti’s conversation. No, more than curious. If they were really looking for Jack, he wanted to at least know as much as he could. Even if Jack probably wouldn’t appreciate his help. But now it was different. Now IRIS had Chase. He couldn’t just sit by while Jackie and those magicians handled this! God damn it, Chase was his friend, too! Though, there wasn’t much he could do while he was halfway across the world...

Wasn’t IRIS an American company first?

Schneep went back to their website, scrolling around for information. Yes, this lists their “hometown”—the place they were founded—as somewhere called Kronolle, California. Yes, Anti mentioned that, too. With that established, Schneep closed the browser and opened the GPS, searching up the town. Yes, it was there. North of Los Angeles, with the driving time listed as 2-3 hours depending on traffic. That was a long way to go. Especially for someone who couldn’t drive.

...It was late. This wasn’t the time. Schneep sighed and turned off his phone. When it was this late, it was probably better to lie down and close your eyes. That was more restful than sitting up and doing stuff. He got up, closed the window’s blinds, and got ready to change for bed. He’d think more on this in the morning.

Maybe there was something he could do to help Chase even all the way out here.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #dr schneeplestein #septic eye sam #c!jack #(im now tagging c!jack since he's been DISCONTINUED >:( how dare you sean /j)#brigid writes fanfiction #septics inverted #invertedau

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sketchy-rosewitch · 11 months

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Enantiodromia: Murph Connors x gn!afab!reader

Part 1

Warnings: Police, Nick O’Brien, choking, kidnapping, drugs, Reader does not have a filter, starvation, mentions of foster care system, allusions of abuse.

A/N: This is going to be a mini series cause fuck it.

Taggies: @bosinclairz @visceravalentines @blurrymango

A sting comes across your face and you bolt awake, gasping for air. Your body sweats as you look around, taking in your surroundings.

The room smells like alcohol, sex, and weed and you’re surrounded by five men and some prostitutes.

You go to rub your face but see your hands cuffed to two end tables near you. A groan escapes your lips.

“Who the hell are you?” You sneer, looking between all of the men.

“Nick O’Brien. Leader of the Regulators. I practically run the sheriff’s department.” A brown haired man says.

Fucking cops.

You look up at the ceiling and sigh before your head falls back down.

How the hell could you be so stupid? You had one job and that was to not get caught. Now you’re here. Getting caught. Except, you’re not in an interrogation room. You’re in a hotel room and everyone is doing hard drugs and drinking.

Oh which means these men are worse than cops. Even better.

“Did I do something wrong Sheriff?” The question comes out as snarky as you can make it with the pounding headache you have.

“Not if you tell us where a couple of your friends are.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug your shoulders and look away. Yeah like you’re admitting practically where your house is and snitching on what is about to go down, risking your life when no one is even going to get hurt.

“Sure you do, we aren’t stupid.”

You snort still not making eye contact with any of them. “I’m not tellin’ you shit. I have no reason to.”

You notice O’Brien get up, he’s out of your site so you look at the rest of the men, two have their guns out and are wiping them down. This makes you roll your eyes. “Are you actually trying to intimidate me right now? Cause I’m not afraid to die.”

With that a sudden pressure is put on your throat and you gasp. Face turning red and lungs already burning. Your face hurts but you don’t let up, instead letting your eyes roll back to get some type of relief. You couldn’t even try and get him to let go even if you wanted to be.

Eventually his hold loosens and you take in a loud deep breath.

“Pussy.” You mumble then feel a hit to your head making you cringe. “I’m not sayin shit. You’re wasting your time and mine too. Just let me go already.” You growl.

“We don’t plan on releasing you until you do say shit. We need to know where Kennedy and Quinn Abrams are!”

“The fuck is in it for me then? Cause right now I’m not hearing shit, only getting threatened and choked out! Which means I ain’t saying shit!” You shout, the leader looks at the other cops as they have a very silent discussion, then he turns to you and sits on the coffee table.

“Won’t go to jail.”

Your eyes roll back. “That’s not good enough.”

You hands tap nervously in the arms of the chair you sat in.

Kennedy and Quinn provided you a home. You don’t wanna be out on the streets like you were after you got out of juvy. You can’t go back to that.

“I need a place to stay. Somewhere they can’t find me cause if I go back there I’m dead and I’m not dying by their hands, you will not throw me in jail and you will help me find a job. There’s no work around with this either. This is the deal or shit ain’t coming out about the Abrams.” You explain, tongue poking the inside of your cheeks. You aren’t going to let the same treatment of Kennedy and Quinn happen again. You can’t be left with nothing.

“Fine.”

You sigh. “They’ll be at those warehouses on Kings Street. Buncha cars there cause they were trying to see which one was best for me. They have other people working for them too I don’t know their names. I just know they’re making all the guns and shit. Big robbery next week. Hostage situation. All that. It’s all I can tell you.”

Your hands are shaking now as you reside in a limbo of whether or not you walk out with a roof over your head or sleeping on the sidewalk by a street lamp.

“Murph you get to watch over them. Tomorrow afternoon we meet to discuss our next moves.” O’Brien stands up and uncuffs your wrists and you rub them gently.

A man with greying sandy hair stands up, putting his gun in his pants. He pulls out some money and gives it to the stripper that was playing with his hair during most of the interrogation. Then he pulls out his car keys and that’s when you assume that he is Murph. So you stand up after him.

“Checking out early Connors?” Another one of the men seem to tease him.

“Yep. I’ll see you guys tomorrow though. C’mon kiddo.”

Your brows furrow at the nickname before you follow Murph walking around all of the other men and out the hotel door. The halls are quiet, only echoing your foot steps and his.

You notice the way he’s dressed. He’s much older than you are but his fashion sense is similar to that of a high school boy.

You snort but look away when he looks down at you.

“What?” He says, walking over to press the button for the elevator.

You shrug and wait for the door to open before you two step inside. He presses the garage button.

“So are your wife and kids gonna be okay with me staying with you?” You ask leaning against the railing.

“Don’t have either.” His voice sounds slightly bitter but you ignore it.

“Not surprised.” The elevator dings and the doors open, he steps out and you follow after him.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

He unlocks his truck and the two of you get in. The truck smells of cologne causing your nose to tickle. You rub it, the answer.

“Well, I’m sure wifey wouldn’t be happy her husband is cheating with a sexy young babe in a hotel room with a bunch of your guy friends. Sure your kids would end up hating you too.”

Murph sighs and starts his truck driving out of the parking garage and to his house.

The drive is quite other than the soft rock playing on the radio and you look out at the city lights passing by and slowly disappearing as the truck heads into a suburban part of LA.

It’s close to four in the morning when the truck parks in a drive way. Murph gets out and you follow after him. You can’t see much in the dark but the silhouette of the house is huge. You smirk and watch as he unlocks the door.

“Cameras and motion detectors are at the front back and side entrances. I turn on security when I leave the house and go to bed. You’ll be safest here. Until we arrest Kennedy and Quinn you’ll be under my watch, even when I leave this house. Understand?”

You toe off the shoes and nod your head. “You got any food?” You’re already making your way to the kitchen which is honest to god HUGE.

You head right towards the fridge and open it rummaging through to find something good to eat. You find left over wings and some juice so you grab them and shut the fridge with your foot.

“Can’t just waltz into someone else’s house and take their food without asking.” Murph crosses his arms and leans against the counter, you put your food on a paper plate and shove it into the microwave.

“Wasn’t taught manners in the foster care system or in juvy. My bad.” You say, nonchalantly making your way around the kitchen to find a cup.

“How old are you anyways.”

“Shouldn’t you know that? You’re a cop, I mean my shit is in the system after all.”

“Well I don’t. So just tell me.” Murph rolls his eyes and rubs his face. He’s clearly getting fed up with you and it makes you feel better about himself.

“23.”

The microwave beeps and you go to pull out your food. You sit down at the marble island and start to eat.

“Got huge attitude problems for being 23.” Murph walks to the plastic container and throws it in the sink to wash later.

“Again, foster care system, juvy, also Kennedy and Quinn.” You take another bite and wiggle a little in your seat. “Man, I haven’t eaten in days! Shit is delicious!”

“Thanks. When you’re done I’ll show you your room. Tomorrow when I get back we’ll go shopping for some clothes alright?”

You give him a thumbs up and watch as he types on his phone while you eat.

It doesn’t take long for you to finish and throw out the paper plate and scraps, you down your juice and Murph starts walking towards the stairs.

The upstairs holds a loft with four doors and a closet. You take a second to look around as he gets out towels, blankets and sheets. It’s a game room, there’s a pool table, shelves of board games, card games, and video games. A couch and loveseat, and a flatscreen TV, the TV stand holds even more video games and consoles from all the way back in the 90’s to now.

You wanna touch it all.

“Come on, can show you everything some other time.” Murph tilts his head towards a small hall and taking you to a large guest bedroom.

“Bathroom is the door by the pool table. My bedroom is down that way. If you need me” He points out your door and across the loft to another small hall and door. He looks at you up and down, you wear a tight tank top, jacket, and loose blue jeans,“I have an old shirt you can use for tonight, uh and shorts too.”

Murph leaves your room and goes into his, you take a chance and look around, feeling how soft the bed is you smile.

Finally no more couch.

There’s a tv in the guest room which surprised you. The closet was empty and all that sat on the bedside tables were lamps. The room was a beautiful light blue.

You swear this man could’ve done interior design as a side job if he wanted to.

You snort to yourself and start to take off your socks chucking them in a corner.

You realize you’ll need more than just clothes tomorrow.

Murph comes back and hands you the shirt and shorts.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.. uh thanks.” You say, the older man raises a brow at you crossing his arms.

“You didn’t have to take me in, I mean honestly I expected to be brought to a homeless shelter. Just, thank you.” Your hands sweat, something that only happens when you know Quinn was going to get pissed at you for some random shit.

“It’s not a problem. We need to keep an eye on you anyways you’re our only witness after all.” You feel the room get tense so with a tight lipped smile you nod your head.

“Goodnight Murph.”

He nods back at you and shuts the door behind him.

You take off your clothes hastily.

Of course you were being used again, they weren’t going to keep their damn promise, why the hell would they? They solve a case and move on, not caring who gets hurt along the way. You were a witness, evidence of Kennedy and Quinn. Nothing more nothing less, in a month you’d be back on the streets, no job, no money, and you know damn well if you came into that Sheriffs Department bitching these bastards would act like they didn’t know who you were. Well fuck them, fuck Kennedy and Quinn, and fuck your parents for conceiving you.

Everyone will have hell to pay when this case is done.

#murph connors #murph connors x reader #bo sinclair #brian van holt

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griffin-girl-r · 7 months

Text

Chapter 2

Word count: 2,542

Warnings: Injury description, Cussing, Punching

Chapter 1 , Chapter 3

—

"It can't be..."

—

Maria's eyes must be deceiving her for sure, because she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

She never thought she'd get the chance to see her again.

Not after everything that happened.

This is surreal.

"Natasha..." A faint whisper of disbelief came out Maria's mouth as she stared wide-eyed in front of her

Her hair was long again and had its natural fierce red color, unlike the short, dyed blonde hair Maria remembers she had the last time she saw her but some of the blonde was still present at the ends of her hair.

She was as beautiful as the brunette remembers her to be but Maria could see that 5 years of pain, suffering, and loneliness left their mark on her features that seemed more mature than they have ever been.

She was lying on a bed, unconscious, with various monitors reassuring Maria that her Natty was breathing, that she was alive, even though there was a machine doing the breathing job for her through a tube that Maria knew went down the spy's throat.

Maria wanted to rush to her side, to take her hand in hers, to kiss her forehead, and to make sure she was okay, but something in her heart was keeping her from doing so.

The doubt of all of it being nothing more than an illusion was very present in Maria's mind.

Natasha has been dead for the past two years.

For two years Maria had to live alone in a world that didn't care about her.

"Natty..." Maria whispered again, shock written on her face "She can't be..."

The shock on Maria's face suddenly turned into anger in a fraction of a second as she quickly forced herself to turn around and punch the girl, that had brought her here, in the face.

"Ahh..." The younger woman groaned "What the fuck was this for?" She asked confused, raising her arms

"How dare you play with my mind like this?!" Maria shouted angry

"I told you, Maria." The girl stated in her usual raspy voice "There is no game. It's true. She's here."

"She's not! She is a hero!" Maria screamed as the anger in her eyes transformed into tears "A hero! You have disrespected her memory by pulling this little trick up. She died to bring half of the universe back." She stopped for a moment, feeling like she was about to choke on her own tears that started falling without her permission "She died to bring me back. She sacrificed herself for me and her family. To bring all of us back to life again. Me, her sister, her parents, Laura, and the kids. She did it all for us!" She sobbed

"I know." The girl softly said, wrapping her hands around Maria's wrists, stopping the brunette from using her hands "Believe me, I know. That's why I need you to believe me when I tell you that this is not a game or a sick joke. That right there it's really your beloved secret girlfriend."

"But she's been dead for so long." Maria cried "And how did you find out she was my girlfriend? No one knew. Not even Nick."

"I said it before, I'm going to say it again." The girl sighed "I know a lot of things. You will find out when the time is right why I know all this information."

"The one laying on that bed it's actually her?" Maria asked as hope faintly started filling her voice with emotion

The girl nodded and let go of Maria's hands.

"It is her." The girl kept nodding with a small smile "I'm going to explain to you everything you want to know about her state and how she's here. Let's just go in and take a seat."

The girl tried to offer Maria her help to walk inside but the commander refused it with a wave of her hand.

The girl without a name stepped back and nodded "Go ahead then, Agent."

—

Maria took in a deep, shaky breath as her legs slowly started carrying her inside the room and over to the bed where her entire world was lying.

The commander expected the ghost of her girlfriend to fade away and disappear with each step she was taking closer to the bed.

But that didn't happen.

Natasha kept existing outside Maria's imagination, in the real, physical world.

Maria was lost.

The overwhelming feeling of happiness that engulfed her was too strong for Maria to fight against it and have a rational thinking.

Maria first stared at her girl's peaceful face, a comfortable silence falling over the room as Maria expressed her feelings through actions, then she reached her hand toward Natasha's hand.

But she stopped, quickly pulling it back, afraid that she would wake up from her dream if she dared touch her girlfriend.

Her mind and body were painfully screaming at her to just touch Natasha and make sure she was actually there but Maria was hesitant.

She will taint with her darkness this sacred temple, that is Natasha's body, if she dares touch it.

Maria couldn't dare to touch Natasha.

~~~~~

"I don't like when you keep your distance from me." Natasha playfully pouted at her girlfriend when they finally managed to get a moment of privacy

"Well, you were the one to ask me to keep our thing a secret for the moment." Maria pointed out with a chuckle "You'll have to deal with it."

"At least hold my hand or touch me even if just for a brief second whenever you can." Natasha cuddled closer to the taller girl "I love having you as close to me as possible. I love your touch."

"If that's so, then I promise to never let go of your hand." Maria smiled, kissing the redhead's pout away "I will touch you with each chance I get to, in order to remind you that I'm always by your side. Even if it's just for a brief second."

"Thank you." Natasha smiled widely at Maria, resting her head in the young commander's lap

"I love you so much." Maria whispered, moving the hair out of her lover's face "I'd do anything for you."

~~~~~

Maria was brought back to the present by the beeping of the machines around her.

She had yet to make a move and the mysterious girl's gaze was still on Maria, patiently waiting for the older woman to make any move.

"I promised to never let go of your hand but I did." Maria whispered, trying to sniff away her tears "Forgive me, Tasha. I let go of your hand and I lost you forever. It's my fault."

Maria was met with silence as Natasha was unable to give Maria an answer yet and comfort her distressed girlfriend.

"I'm so sorry." Maria's voice came out in a high-pitched tone "I was a bad girlfriend. I never deserved you and your golden heart. Everyone I love dies. My mother died to bring me into this world and you died to bring me back to life. I should have never been born. I'm so sorry, my Natty." She burst out into tears "I'm so sorry I failed you."

Maria fell to one knee beside Natasha's head and turned into a sobbing mess as all the pain and guilt she bottled up over the last two years finally reached the surface.

Maria's shaky hand gingerly grasped Natasha's hand and the brunette gasped when her skin made full contact with her lover's skin.

Before, Natasha knew this small contact could easily drive Maria insane and turn her into a mess.

Now, just as before, this small contact was driving Maria insane as her heart was about to run out of the soldier's chest.

Oh, this small touch.

How she missed this touch.

The simple reassurance that Natasha was by her side just by holding her hand.

"My love!" Maria cried, gently placing a soft kiss on the back of Natasha's hand as she lingered on it "Baby, honey, sweetheart, my Russian princess, my life, I missed you so much, dear. How could I dare to keep breathing for more than one second without having your presence in my life? How could I open my eyes every morning and not see the face of this angel that it's you? How could I eat if you weren't there so I could share my food with you? How could I take showers if you weren't there to jump in the bath and shower with me? How? Why? Why did I fall asleep every night in our bed if your pillow was cold and the side of your bed unoccupied?" She kept sobbing "How could I have the audacity to live for so many years without you?" She slightly calmed down, sniffing her tears away "Thank you for taking me with you."

Maria kissed Natasha's forehead, her hand resting above her sleeping girlfriend's head, stroking the red hair that Maria missed so much.

The younger woman, who made this reunion possible, was silently watching Maria expressing her emotions and love towards the girlfriend she thought was gone forever, tears pooling in her eyes.

The girl quickly turned her head away from the sight in front of her and wiped a few tears away that dared to fall from her eyes.

She was also trying to hide away the smile that was slowly forming on her face as her chest swelled with pride at the fact that her plan was successful.

—

Slowly but surely, Maria's cries chased down and all she was able to keep doing was to stare at Natasha's face with a look on her face that displayed pure adoration towards the redhead.

"I love you." Maria whispered for the ten thousand time in the past few minutes as she kept looking at Natasha's face

"Don't you want to tell her that while she's awake?" The voice of the unknown girl took Maria by surprise as the older woman forgot that there was another person in the room with her

"Of course, I would like to tell her how much I love her while she's awake." Maria kept her tone harsh as she addressed the other girl "But you owe me some explanations first."

"Oh, God." The girl sighed, sitting down in a chair "From where do I start?"

"From the beginning." Maria replied, trying to extract as much information as she could from the girl "What's your name? How did you manage to bring my dead girlfriend here?"

"You still won't find out my name, Hill." The girl chuckled, crossing her legs "Nice try."

Maria rolled her eyes annoyed.

This girl for sure is good at manipulation.

"Now about Natasha, I managed to bring her here right after, you know, the jump." The girl whispered the last word

"I get that." Maria interrupted the girl "But how exactly have you managed to do that?"

"That's a story for another day." The girl chuckled "So, as I was saying, I managed to save her but I had to reconstruct her skull as it had been smashed by the impact into tiny pieces, repair her nerves, and tend to her broken spine and bones."

Maria tightly closed her eyes as pain hit her when she heard the injuries her sweet Nat had from that damned fall.

Oh, her precious Natasha had suffered so much.

"Her body has healed in a proportion of 90% so far from those injuries. She also had needed a lot of blood transfusions to help her body fight after she had lost an incredible amount of blood." The girl explained

"Natasha has a special type of blood that it's very rare." Maria tensed her shoulders "How could you have such a big amount of the blood she needed for the transfusions here?"

The girl was slowly getting tired of Maria's attitude "Because I have the same blood type as her." She shouted "I used my blood for the transfusions." She accidentally let this slip out of her mouth but quickly realized her mistake

Maria tilted her head to the side with a tiny satisfied smirk.

At least she managed to get something from this girl.

"Anyways." The girl cleared her throat "She's ready to be woken up at any moment, that's why I've brought you here. I thought that she would like to wake up to a familiar face."

"Did you owe her a debt as well?" Maria asked in a surprisingly calm and non-ironic tone

"Yes." The girl said "I owed her even a bigger debt than I owed you."

"Wow..." Maria chuckled sarcastically "Apparently you owe everyone a debt."

For the moment, the girl chose to ignore Maria's ironic comment.

"Natasha will have to learn how to walk and do basic things again." The girl said, making Maria's face fall "I managed to keep her muscle mass in good shape through massages and physical therapy while she was asleep. That means that she'll still be able to somewhat move her muscles after not using them for so long. This is as much as I could do without her help, which is still good."

"But physical therapy is still necessary." Maria nodded, sadness blooming in her voice "I get it." She whispered looking back at Natasha's face

"I know you'll be very happy to be there by her side and help her recover in no time." The girl slightly smiled "It's the least we could do for her after everything she has done for us." The girl took a deep breath before adding "She's an angel."

"She is, isn't she?" Maria smiled, running her thumb over Natasha's cheekbone "She's my angel."

"Let's call her your guardian angel." The younger girl chuckled "Because as soon as she wasn't by your side anymore, you went straight into getting in trouble and getting shot. And trust me, you're anything but straight." She smiled before very quietly adding "She's our guardian angel." Hoping that Maria wasn't able to hear her

The commander heard her anyway but she chose to keep silent.

Natasha is more important than any ironic comment Maria could say now.

"I'll give you some time with her." The girl walked over to Maria and patted her shoulder "You need it. I'll be back soon enough to wake her up."

The nameless girl started walking towards the door but she was stopped by Maria's voice.

"Kid!" Maria shouted after the younger girl, making her turn around "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, Agent Hill." The girl gave Maria a soft smile "It's been my honor to be able to reunite you both."

And with that, the girl that wasn't such a stranger to Maria anymore left the room.

"I'll have you back with me very soon, beautiful." Maria whispered to Natasha, leaving multiple gentle kisses on the back of Natasha's hand

Maria will very soon be complete again.

She will be able to hold Natasha in her arms after all this time.

And yet, Maria couldn't fully allow herself to enjoy Natasha's arrival back in her life as one question kept lingering in Maria's mind.

Who is this mysterious girl and why was she helping them?

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's kid #natasha's child #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader #blackhill #maria hill #maria hill x daughter!reader

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drewsbuzzcut · 3 months

Text

Pilates & Pleasure

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes blurb

warnings: smut!!!

Whoever told Dallas it’d be a good idea for her to do her Pilates workout in Nick’s room, Nick is grateful for them. Truly grateful.

He came back from practice to the view of her ass in those perfect leggings. She was bent over in her post-Pilates stretching.

Now, she’s on all fours, face pressed into the mattress as Nick pounds into her. Her hips are secured in his tight grip, his body is draped over hers. He lets one hand travel around and down her torso, finding its way to her clit and circling the bud. She lets out a loud moan, her hand reaching back to hold onto him.

She grips his cock with her slick, hot walls, grinding her hips back to fuck herself on his length. He tugs on her hair, pulling more saccharine moans from the depths of her chest. Her body shakes with her impending orgasm, but it doesn’t stop her from lifting herself up on her palms.

Nick pulls her up the rest of the way, her back connecting with his chest. Both her hands go back to connect around his neck, her body arching away from his when he pulls on her nipples.

“Nick, please,” she whines.

“Please what, baby? What do you need,” his voice is strained and teasing.

“Touch me,” she pleads, grabbing one of his hands to place around her throat, and guiding his other hand down her stomach until he reaches her clit.

Her body jolts when he touches her, and Nick calms her down with bruising kisses on the side of her neck.

“Fuck, babe, you can’t squeeze me like that. I’m going to cum,” he lets out in a groan.

“Cum in me please,” she begs, bouncing her hips faster and clenching her walls tighter.

He pulls out of her, ignoring her whines. He turns her around and has her lay on her back. He spreads her legs, spitting onto her pussy and spreading it with his cock before sinking into her. She’s laying on her back as he’s kneeling on his knees. She reaches a hand out, dying to let her fingers drag down his torso. He’s littered with bright red love bites. She doesn’t get to touch him though, he pins her hands to the bed as his hips roll into hers.

Nick glues his lips to hers, releasing his hands to massage her boobs. Dallas’ hands move to his back, her heat fluttering at the feeling of his muscles flexing under her fingertips.

“I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers in his ear.

“Be my good girl and let go,” he says with his sexy, raspy voice.

Her orgasm drips down his member and makes a mess on their thighs. The white hot feeling flows freely over her body, starbursts appearing behind her eyelids. She grips onto the back of his head, keeping him in his place as he sucks hickeys into her neck. Her legs wrap high around his hips, her feet pressing into his lower back. She didn’t want him to pull away any time soon.

“Cum in me,” she says, fingers carding through his hair.

Nick lets out an almost animalistic groan, his pace fastening as he works her through her orgasm and tries to meet his own.

“I can’t, condom,” he reminds her, his hands pushing on her hips so he can pull out.

“Take it off,” she says as if it were that simple.

Her brain is in a haze, not even comprehending the thoughts she’s voicing. She’s too busy focusing on the toe curling sensation still flowing in her bones.

Nick doesn’t even get a chance to respond, his hips thrusting faster when Dallas licks a stripe up his throat, and connects her lips to his to swallow his moans. His hips stutter and his abdomen flexes as he releases into the condom. His body goes limp on top of her, his forearms propping himself up. Their heartbeats thudding against each other helps soothe them.

“Can you always do Pilates in my room?” Nick jokes around, his finger tracing the slope of her nose.

“No! You’re such a distraction,” she whispers, eyes closed and a smile painting her face.

“I’m a distraction? You literally had your ass in my face as soon as I entered my room. You’re the distraction,” he retorts, flipping them over so he’s on his back with her on top of him.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it. My ass is great,” Dallas muses, flipping her hair dramatically.

“Oh, I did enjoy it. Your ass is amazing, baby. Are you feeling okay?” His hand rubs the skin of her back, making a new set of chills form.

“I feel great. You? Do you need anything? I know you had a long practice plus a late night last night. Take a nap with me, Nicky,” she nuzzles into his neck, her leg being thrown over his.

“I’m good, June bug. Go to sleep, we can go get something to eat when we wake up.”

“We also have to work on some homework,” she reminds him, laughing at the way he rolls his eyes and groans.

“Do we have to?”

“Duh. Also… I have a Pilates class tomorrow, you should join me,” she whispers, half sarcastically and half in interest of what he’ll respond.

“I’ll be there for sure,” he answers, the smirk evident in his tone.

Dallas rolls her eyes and rolls off Nick, settling into his side until she falls asleep. She’s nervous about tomorrow if it’s anything like today.

a/n: I have had this ready to post for a while, but was saving it more a time like this. I am behind on requests for so it goes. Please don’t think I’m ignoring them, I just have been busy with life and with writing for visceral in doses. Otherwise I hope you enjoy!

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick x dallas #umich imagine #umich hockey #so it goes au

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0-r-a-y-0 · 5 months

Text

Hair Dye— Romantic #5

In which: Jasper and Nick do each other’s hair. (And they re-dye Nick’s hair)

Also I imagine Jasper looking like Dominic Fike but like…a metalhead idk.

I had a oneshot planned before this and was supposed to be posted last night but I hated it so much. Anyways for Nick dying his hair red, here I present…this thingy.

Expect a lot of hair oneshots in the future because I love writing about hair

“You get the dye?” Jasper asked, entering the bathroom with some hair supplies.

“Yeah, I bought it earlier.” Nick responds, showing him the bag.

“What color is it?” He quizzed.

“A dark red color. I was thinking about doing a bright red but I don’t know.” The other shrugged.

“Well, I think you would look adorable and hot with any color. Do what you want to do with it.” Jasper said, looking Nick in the eyes as he laid a hand upon his cheek. They share a quick kiss, not wanting the moment fade away.

“How do we do this?” Nick wondered.

“Like you don’t know.” Jasper playfully rolled his eyes.

“I do know what I’m doing…kinda.” The blonde replied. “Just want to be sure I’m one hundred percent correct.”

“Ugh, what would you do without me?” The curly haired boy asked sarcastically.

“I probably wouldn’t be as happy as I am now that’s for damn sure.” Nick quickly responded.

“Same here. I love spending all my time with you.” Jasper added. “Well anyways, let’s get this over with before you decide to change you mind.”

“Yeah, let’s get on with it.” He stated, taking the hair dye out the bag.

“Do your brothers know about this?” The other wondered.

“Nope, not at all. Had Laura drive me to the hair place and help pick out the color. It’s gonna be a surprise.” Nick claimed.

“Alright, first we got to section your hair.” Jasper confirmed. “Sit in the chair.”

“Wow, what are you? A hair stylist now?” The blonde teased, almost amused.

“Well, I know how to do hair. I’ve dyed my own hair many times so I know from experience.” He confirmed. “Now sit down in the chair I brought in here for you.”

Nick sits down and Jasper immediately gets to work with parting his hair. The bottom, mid-section, and his bands out. Most of his bangs were clipped to the side, a small part actually out. Jasper puts latex gloves on mixes the dye before applying it to the small part of bangs out. He then foils it before bringing out another small section of his bangs, repeating the process and taking the last section of his hands out of the clip. Afterwards, he clips sections on his mid-section, redoing everything and doing the exact thing with the bottom of his hair. Making sure he got all of his hair, he goes over a few parts and setting a timer after.

“Okay, let’s wait thirty minutes and we’ll check it and we’ll decide what to do from there.” Jasper suggested.

“Alright, seems good.” Nick replied. “What do you want to do until then?”

“It don’t matter. We can watch a movie, thought I don’t think you wanna be on your bed with unprocessed hair dye in your hair.” The tan skinned boy said.

“Yeah…” The taller boy trailed off. “I think I got an idea.” He smiled, running his fingers in Jasper’s hair. “How about I do your hair?”

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t brush it out because…”

“…Because it’ll make your hair frizzing and “ugly” and you’ll have to get a shower to fix it.” Nick interrupted.

Jasper smiled. “You know me so well.” He leans in for a kiss, their lips melting together in harmony before pulling away.

“Hell yeah I do.”

Nick gets up, instructing Jasper to sit in the chair. He grabs a chunk of his hair, twisting it around his finger playfully before taking a rubber band and tying it up on his head, then evening it out on the other side; giving the boy pig tails. Nick quickly takes his phone out, taking a few pictures (and not forgetting to do a point five) before letting Jasper see.

“Is that really all you wanted to do?” He giggled.

“Maybe. Thought you’d look cute.” Nick smirked.

They waited the rest of the time out, talking and kissing until the timer went off. Nick gets back into the chair and Jasper takes part of the foil off on the first strip he did and making sure it was okay with Nick. They decided to wait another fifteen minutes, and when Nick agreed that it was the color he wanted, the rinsed the color out in the shower. Nick just standing there shirtless as Jasper helped shampoo his hair and making sure it was good before applying leave in conditioner. They blow dry and brush his hair and making it his usual hair style before showing Chris and Matt. Turns out, they loved it. And they spent the rest of the night taking pictures and making tiktoks before relaxing for the rest of the night.

#nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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mllx-anazra · 2 years

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tis the damn season (part.1)

Here is the Taylor Swift-inspired reader insert fanfiction to hopefully tame the brain rot Eddie Munson has induced since Vol.1 (also posted on Ao3).

TW: smut in later chapters so minors DNI, talk of therapy and trauma in later chapters, Eddie Munson is pinning, so is the reader, mentions of asshole rockstar boyfriends, drugs (the old devil's lettuce), explicit references, reader is a Henderson to make my no Y/N rule easier but is a cousin so hopefully it's ""inclusive"" enough?

Part 1: And it always leads to you, and my hometown

"Jesus, man, can you drive any slower? We're late already!" Dustin pestered for what felt like the hundredth time in the short time he, Wheeler, and Sinclair pretty much begged Eddie to drive them to the other side of town to help you move in.

His curiosity got the better of him, and he not only adjourned the DnD meeting of today but agreed to drop the freshmen on your doorstep, hoping to understand why the hell you were back in Hawkins two years after your graduation.

The golden child, all straight A's, bouncy hair and toothy grins, bedazzled acoustic guitar, and the flare of the next Stevie Nicks, had made it out of bumfuck Indiana through a contract with a fancy Californian label, like some kind of modern fairytale. And yet, as the fall of 85 was settling slowly and surely in this small town, Eddie grew to see as his personal hell, you were coming back, settling back in your parents' small old house not too far from the trailer park, for no understandable reason.

"Remind me again why the fuck is your cousin settling here again?" the metalhead glanced at his rear mirror, catching Dustin's impatient gaze.

"I don't know, something about a job and taking a break from the label or some shit. C'mon, man, it's the SEVENTH red light we have gotten in the past five minutes; for the love of CHRIST, could you speed up!!"

"Calm the fuck down, Henderson and get a grip, jeez; little miss sunshine can wait five minutes for us to move her couch or whatever."

"Steve is probably there already!" the teen whined. "I wanted to be the first to see her!".

At the mention of Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Eddie felt a pang in his belly, immediately remembering the chaste kiss he had seen you exchange with the King of Hawkins during your sophomore year winter dance on Toto, where he had been dying to ask you out. He mentally scoffed at the memory; pretty girls like you frenched and held hands with pretty boys like Harrington, while guys like him, well… Were at best dirty little secrets.

Which is whatever the fuck you could call the first, and in your case last, senior year, you spent in dark corners branding him with scalding lips that tasted like cherry chapstick. After a too-drunk encounter at a Halloween party in 1983, where you had sloppily told him, "Today we're all allowed to be freaks, Munson," and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, you had both sought each other out for the months until your graduation. Official tutoring lessons where you'd wear the shortest preppiest skirts to drive him crazy and jam sessions to "exchange creative ideas" were just excuses to fool around like the horny teenagers you had been. And God, if you were not one little devil behind all your good girl skit. Eddie fought to not get too lost in the raunchiest memory of your skin against his, lips nipping and kissing every crevice of each other's bodies in his van, your car, his trailer, your childhood bedroom, the school's bleachers, empty English classrooms and study halls at the library, Lovers' Lake shores, the movies…

How the hell was he supposed to make small talk with you after two years without so much as a call or letter? Oh, the cruel torture of politeness with a woman who rocked his world and that he still had trouble shaking off, dropping your cousin and his friends at your door when the only thing he wanted was to drop was his knees and see for himself if you tasted like he remembered.

"Turn left on that corner!" supplied Dustin, after five minutes of bickering with Mike and Lucas about the following steps to best approach the brutal campaign Eddie had set up for them.

"I know where the house is, deep shit."

"How?" pressed Wheeler, eyebrows furrowed. Fuck, pestering reporter genes might run in the family. Nancy had provided the same inquisitive tone after Eddie had agreed to drive the kids rather than her at the school parking lot thirty minutes ago.

"Because the trailer park is really close to this neighborhood, and I've lived on this hellhole my entire life?" the mere fact he had to justify himself made him pissed off.

"There, there, stop the car!!" Dustin excitedly screamed, unfastening his seatbelt and bolting out of the van to jog his way to your front stairs.

And there you were, dropping the box you were holding to immediately hug your cousin, gushing over his growth, matching dimples on both of your faces.

Were you a sight for sore eyes, all long summer dress and silky shawl, skin radiant and smile beaming, sunglasses pushed back on your forehead, and bracelet clicking as you embraced Lucas and Mike once Dustin had let you go.

Psyching himself up, Eddie summoned his coolest demeanor as he locked the van and strutted towards your porch. Your look of initial confusion morphed to a wide grin, almost feral, making him weak in the knees.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is this you, Munson?" amusement laced your voice, making his heart jackhammer in his ribcage. Same timber, warmth, and spice characterizing your voice after all this time.

"All metal and denim, sunshine." God, he hated how easily the nickname rolled off his tongue, electing strange looks amongst the boys and a glint in your eyes he had thought of so often.

Before you could quip further or embrace him (fuck did you still use the same perfume and conditioner, he needed to know), Steve fucking Harrington interrupted your reunion:

"Now that you cruds are finally here, come help us set the couch, it's super heavy. Oh, hey, Munson."

He was still wearing his Family Video vest, literally having come here from his workplace to help you settle, Eddie interpreting this as an eagerness that immediately gritted his nerves. It was no secret that Steve had chased you before he set his sights on Nancy and did not shy away from what could be qualified as grand romantic gestures to win you over.

"Jeez, Steve, let them grab a drink first it's so freaking warm today. C'mon in, there is a lemonade cooling in the kitchen, help yourselves. You know the house!"

The teens skited towards the entrance of your modest but coquettish home, Eddie leisurely strolling up the stairs to meet you on the last step.

"Long time no see, Henderson. Looking good." Smooth, Munson, keep it smooth.

"You tell me, Eddie." A shiver ran up his spine at the way your plump lips curled around the syllables of his name. "Are you converting my kids to your satanic cult through the impenetrable ways of DnD?"

He smiled at your teasing.

"They say it's better to get them young when they're more influenceable."

You chuckled, a side smirk still firmly planted on your face.

"Well, be my guest, Dungeon Master (his knees buckling again); I have a beer in the cooler if you prefer."

"Hey, why does he get beer and I don't?" Steve indignantly called out, apparently shamelessly eavesdropping on your conversation.

"Because, unlike you, he is turning 21, and you're supposed to be a role model for the kids or something", you retorted, slightly exasperated.

The guffaws the boys made at the implication were enough to bring a delicate warmth to your gaze as you guided Eddie through your corridor towards your kitchen. Fleetwood Mac was blasting in the living room, and his fingers couldn't help but tap in rhythm, reminiscing how you would let it play in the background of your study make-out sessions.

He followed and pretended to look at your walls interestingly as if he had not slammed you there several times while driving you back home after school.

"Cool house, Henderson." He supplied, prompting you to look back at him, eyebrow raised, as if your mind had joined his.

The boys were gathered around your small kitchen island (another fun memory), sipping on your lemonade as you fetched too cooled beers in your ice box. Steve's grumbling only intensified when he figured out the second can was for your sake and not his, prompting you to bonk his head with it.

Eddie tried not to envy the easiness with which Steve and you seemed to interact, probably already caught up with each other's lives as it was.

"So," Lucas started after a very loud sip, "what brings you back to Hawkins after this time?"

"Seeing my favorite people on Earth is not a good reason enough, Sinclair?" you said while leaning on the counter, hands joined. Eddie thought he recognized a glint on one of your fingers. Did you keep…

The unimpressed looks on your audience made you fake gasp loudly.

"Fine, FINE!" you huffed. You mulled over your response for a second, eyes adrift. "I was in the studio when I heard about the Starcourt fire. I was so scared that something might have happened to any of you… I don't know; it freaked me out. So many weird things have happened in Hawkins these past few years I feel like…."

Fiddling with your rings, including the one Eddie gifted you after your marveled at his a few weeks before you left, you didn't register the looks the kids and Steve exchanged.

"Also, I need field experience for my college credits, and Hawkins High has been looking for a part-time librarian and teaching assistant since Mrs. Sinema retired."

"Why the hell you're going to college for? You work", Mike said, disdain clear in his voice. Damn, did Wheeler know damn well how to be annoying when he wanted to.

"Yeah, well, working sucks Mikey, so I'm going back to school," you chuckled.

"Don't ruin it for all of us, Henderson. Some are trying to graduate this year", Eddie quipped, gulping down his drink.

"Are you now Munson? Who will lead your hordes of satanic minions in your absence?"

Mirth was evident in your tone, but Dustin clearly missed it.

"Hellfire is a Dungeons and Dragons CLUB!! Not a satanic cult??? Are you getting your talking points from Jason Carver or something??"

"Jeez, Dusty, can't a girl crack a joke? I know what DnD is, it's all you nerds yap about. Also, ew, is Jason Carver still preaching his choir at school?"

"You have no idea…." Mike mumbled.

"He's not that bad, guys," Lucas started, prompting a chorus of groans from his club.

"He is incredibly entitled and a terrible basketball captain, in my humble opinion," offered Steve, eyeing your still untouched beer.

"Moh, salty about the person occupying the throne you vacated, King Steve?" Eddie snarked with perhaps a bit too much gusto.

The look Steve threw him, a mixture of "who the fuck are you again" confusion and "why are we interacting" that cheerleaders would throw his way, made the metalhead's stomach drop a little.

"Maybe I don't miss high school all that much," you hummed, finally sipping on your drink.

"Well, we sure did miss you," concluded Dustin, hugging your side as you smiled at him brightly, squeezing him back.

"You might less after moving my furniture, Dustibun."

The boys collectively groaned as you jumped back into action, your cousin and his friends making their way to the large trailer attached to your car outside. Eddie lingered, chugging the remanent of his beer.

"You don't have to help Munson, I didn't expect you here," you offered, and was it a twinge of nervousness he could hear in your voice? Oh, that was interesting.

"Always here if you need a hand, Henderson." You caught the suggestive wiggling of his fingers, rolled your eyes, and pushed him towards your front door. He did notice the blush tinging your cheeks.

After what felt like hours of moving boxes – how much shit could you bring back into your semi-empty childhood home was truly baffling –the sun was starting to dim significantly.

"All right, y'all, thank you all so much for your help, but I'm afraid it's time to scram if you want to be back home before dinner!".

"You're still coming over, right?" asked Dustin as he polished the last gulps of the lukewarm lemonade on your counter, much to Steve's dismay.

You nodded enthusiastically and hushed them all to the door. Your hand might have lingered one second too long on Eddie's small back, electing delicious sparks up his spine. You had both danced around each other lightly all afternoon, both sides trying to figure the other out without being too suspicious. It was a skill you had mastered with all these months of sneaking around, for what must feel like a lifetime ago to you, shining bright on stage yet coming back to grace Hawkins with your smile once again.

Eddie nodded at the tall boxes carefully placed still in the large trailer outside, knowing they probably contained your music gear, before inquiring, "You're not putting them inside? Careful, they might get taken."

"You fancy my bedazzled folk guitar, Munson?"

"Depends. Is your name still engraved on the fretboard?" Are my initials still carved on the back of the neck? He was dying to whisper to you.

The laugh that accompanied the slight push you gave him was enough for now.

"Alright, Sinclair, Wheeler, in the backseat. You Hendersons will be okay?" asked Steve, hands on his hips. Since when did Harrington exude this motherly energy, Eddie wondered.

"Yeah, I will just detach the trailer and lock it, we should be good."

"I could drive you."

Eddie had blurted out too fast for his brain to register, the idea of parting from you so soon making his heart lurch.

You and Dustin looked at him quizzically; "The trailer park is literally down the road, my house is on the other side of town," the younger Henderson supplied.

"Rule number one of Hellfire, mini-Henderson; you treat fair maidens gracefully, especially returning ones." He cringe internally, his panicked state at losing his cool making him sound like a grade A nerd.

"I thought the first rule was listening to the Dungeon Master," quipped Wheeler as he settled in Steve's car. Oh, he was gonna make Mike lose during the next campaign if the kid did not watch his tone.

"Thanks for the offer, Eddie, but I'll need to drive back here anyways, so I'll take my car."

"Let me help you with the trailer, at least." He thought he heard Harrington mutter along the lines of "since when is Munson that willingly helpful."

How Eddie hoped the genuine smile you threw him was unique and your lingering gaze not a cruel fabrication of his imagination.

You hugged the kids and Steve goodbye, dress flowing prettily as you turned back to him and embraced him softly. And yes, your laundry still smelled the same, sweet as lavender and soapy, but with a newer distinctive scent, he could quite not pinpoint. Will need to sniff again, supplied his brain. He wanted to slap the creeper out of himself so hard.

"Nice seeing you again, Munson," you whispered in his ear, making him shiver and ache for you only further. The speed with which you could worm yourself back into his body and spirit was frankly concerning, he will ponder later, screaming in his pillow back at the trailer.

"You too, sunshine." He brushed his finger along the thin silvery band adorned with a skull on your middle finger. Telling you, he did notice how you kept it. Did remember – how could he ever forget you –.

You hopped into your car and honked goodbye as the hopeless metalhead watched you drive away, butterflies swarming in his guts, before the stunned look on Steve's face reminded him of hopping back into his vehicle.

Eddie Munson was royally fucked, but so incredibly eager about it if you were the reason. "This really is my year," he muttered to himself as he fished out a mixtape long buried in his glove box, "songs we will fuck to" scribbled on the label with your pink sharpie, the ink fading making the hearts and dick you drew almost transparent. As Eddie drove back to his home, Led Zeppelin blasting in his speakers, all he could hear was the blood drumming in his ears, in time with his pounding heart. God, he had it bad.

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #stranger things #ongoing #anazra writes #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie x you #eddie x reader #henderson!reader #but like cousins #reader insert

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missnobodymadness · 3 months

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I've been wanting to introduce Aisha here for a while but considering that my OC introductions never really go well I kept procrastinating...well, I decided that I have all the right to talk about my babies here and my mental health and enjoyment should always be more important than notes, so I am gonna be who I am today and do what I like even if no one is there to read it, so here is Aisha's introduction, along with some backstory that I already wrote for her profile on TH.

Introduction

“Whenever a scientist finds a cure to something, companies will take advantage of them and sell it to you for the price of your soul, lives weren’t meant to have a price tag, you can’t play God and decide who is gonna live based on who is wearing Prada and that’s what motivates me to keep fighting for a world where science and technology will become a right instead of a luxury” Name: Aisha Fraser (Aisha Fraser Stark after marriage) Meaning: Alive, Well Alias: Hell's Bane or 69676 Date of Birth: 9, May, 2009 Age: 21+ Zodiac: Taurus Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Orientation: Pansexual Species: Human (Modified) MBTI: ENFJ Status: Alive More posts about her: Aishamcuoc

Appearance

Height: 5'7" (170cm) Weight: 161lbs (73kg) Skin: White Eyes: Blue Hair: Ginger (Natural); Fiery red (After modifications) Scars/Birth marks/Tattoos: Freckles, a beauty spot on the side of her mouth and a tattoo with her lab name "69676" on the back of her neck, a few non important small scars from the experiments Special features: She has built-in real black wings that come out of a cavity on her back

Relationships

Biological Family

Mother: Unknown scottish woman Father: Unknown scottish man Siblings: None Partner: Tony Stark (Married) Children: Ryan, David, Nelson, Mathew ♰, Lennon ♰, Aron ♰, Henry ♰ and Morgan Other family: None

Other relationships:

Wonderland Circus family (Found Family, they are background OCs) Natasha Romanoff (Best Friend) Wade Wilson (Close Friend, they have some tea like two old ladies while being the most sassy bitches together everytime they meet 8) ) Sam Wilson (Annoying friend that she wants to kick) Bucky Barnes (Friend) Happy Hogan (Good friends, they eat hamburgers together while Tony is not watching, shhh) T'Challa (Good friend, mutual respect) Thor (Friends, he had a small crush on her when they met) Baron Zemo (One night stand lover) Peter Parker (Sees him as a son even thought she wishs she could kick his ass sometimes too) Nick Fury (Confidant)

Occupation & Abilities

Powers/Skills: Fire creation and manipulation, slightly physically stronger than an average human and has wings that allow her to fly, they are real wings and she avoids using them because they are a weakness to her Weaknesses: Her wings, her hair (it let's her enemies know when s he is hurt, her hair changes color according to her status, if she is hurt her red hair will turn into a greyish white, the amount of white hair tells you how badly hurt she is, for example, if she is dying, her hair will be fully white), close combat Equipment: She usually doesn't use anything other than technology, such as suits or technological tools that enhance her powers and skills Job: Science and engineering Affiliation: Avengers Former affiliation: Hydra (As an infiltrator)

Personality

Positive Traits

✔ Extremely intelligent ✔ Independent ✔ Social ✔ Wise ✔ Empathetic ✔ Hardworking

Negative Traits

X Insecure X Sassy X Clumsy X Perfectionist X Forgetful X Disobedient

Likes: Her family and friends, technology, science, politics, mutants, helping people Dislikes: Cheaters, injustice, hate crimes, mainly towards minorities, shallow and closed-minded people

Backstory

Aisha (Aka Hell’s Bane or 69676) is a very intelligent genetically modified human, she was sold to the organization Leviathan by her own parents, who had close ties to them, when she was only a few months old.

Leviathan is a secret european organization based in Scotland, they have an illegal and hidden laboratory in Portland, Oregon, USA, to where Aisha was sent.

Since then she has been used and modified by the organization, she was nothing more than a weapon in progress and her life was resumed to that for the first 20 years of her life, until the day she was able to escape, burning the laboratory down along with everyone in it, even the innocent ones.

Their project wasn’t completed yet, which means she is considered as an incomplete experiment. With the death of their leader and most important members, who were there when everything happened, the organization collapsed, only a few workers were left and most of them only wanted to go home as they were also victims.

Aisha went through a really hard time after that event, she felt lost and could barely communicate with people due to her lack of social skills, as a fast learner she was able to hunt for food and fend for herself, staying hidden at the Willamette national forest. Sometimes she would adventure into the city of Portland and try to interact, as time passed by Aisha finally learned some social skills.

It wouldn’t take long before she met her future first friends, they belonged to a travelling circus who was currently staying at the city, they were all extremely nice to her and made her feel welcome, some time later she had an idea that would change her life once again, she could use and control fire and a circus would be the perfect place for her to hide and go unnoticed, after all who would suspect she was actually creating and controlling the fire? She could always use a mask as well, no one would ever know who she was during her exhibitions. Maybe they would take her in and let her travel around with them?

Aisha started practicing a few tricks daily and once she finally felt ready, decided to show them what she was able to do and was successful in impressing them with her supposed talent, she got what she wanted, an invitation to join their circus and Aisha was totally ready for that wild trip!

Some months passed and she had learned so much about the world, finally feeling free and like herself for the first time, social skills weren’t a problem for her anymore, in fact, she found out she was quite the communicative type.

They had just arrived in New York, well, most precisely the suburbs, when Aisha found out about the Avengers, she was quite curious about them, mainly about the one named Tony Stark, she had this weird attraction to technology and couldn’t avoid her curiosity. Aisha got inspired and started to create her own cape and mask so she could hide her identity, tracking their activity the best way she could at the moment, she was able to help them whenever she saw they needed it really bad, Aisha had no fight skills but she surely could impress with her fire and wings, so she was quite useful to distract their opponents when everything seemed to be lost for the Avengers.

Eventually she never showed her face, but they could see her blue eyes through the mask, she became a mystery to them and she would always get away before they could even talk to her, until the day things were way more serious than she could’ve imagined and Aisha was knocked out while trying to helplessly help Sam and Natasha who were currently fighting alone, some minutes later Tony Stark showed up and they were able to overcome the situation, but Aisha was still out, they captured her and took her to the tower where she eventually woke up some time later, she had no idea where she was and started to freak out when she noticed she was literally locked inside that room, the Avengers couldn’t risk any danger.

Tony Stark couldn’t help himself, his curiosity was screaming, he needed to know more about what she was and why she helped them several times, Stark studied her for a few days, Aisha wasn’t happy, she didn’t fight for her freedom only to see it being taken away from her again, but she wasn’t dumb, she knew she couldn’t get away the way she did at the laboratory, the room was fireproof and she didn’t really want to hurt any of them either, so she allowed Tony to keep going with his studies and meanwhile they got to know each other a bit better, but what really caught his attention was her intelligence and apparent interest, maybe even passion, for technology and eventually they realized that keeping her locked in a room wasn’t necessary and was making her miserable, she wasn’t a threat at all and not having any stimulation was driving her intelligent mind crazy.

Aisha didn’t think twice before running away, her friends were probably very worried and looking for her and she needed to let them know what has happened and where she had been and so she spent some more time with them while they stayed at New York, however, on the last day at the city, Aisha started to feel very unsure if she really belonged there, she couldn’t even tell them who she really was, how would they understand? How would they take the news once they realize she has no talent and the fire was created by herself all this time? She loved them, they were her family, but did she really belong with them? She wanted to do great things, she wanted to learn a bit of everything and dedicate her life to what she truly loved: Technology.

She would never be able to do that with them, she would just perform fire tricks for the rest of her life, Aisha knew, deep down, that she didn’t belong and so, she decided to part with them and stay at the tower where she knew she was also welcome.

With all the technology on her side, Aisha decided to start her own research and projects, catching Tony’s attention once again who later offered her a place at his laboratory as his apprentice, she was happy to get such privilege and worked hard to impress him and he wasn’t disappointed and later she became an official S.H.I.E.L.D adviser.

Aisha started to be successful with her work and became really popular for her ideas and creations, getting the spotlight on several magazines and scientific journals, little did she know such popularity would turn into a big problem for her.

The spotlight made Hydra notice Aisha and lately find out about who and what she really was, targeting her, especially after Aisha was able to get into their database later on, they wanted her, she would be way more useful to them alive than dead and they knew exactly how to make her behave but they also knew it wouldn’t be easy to fool her, some force would certainly be needed, they also planned to finish what Leviathan had started.

Unfortunately for Hydra, Aisha was no idiot and after successfully escaping from their first try she had started to think of a plan just in case they’d be successful someday, she had read enough articles to know they weren’t gonna stop coming for her and by the time they were finally able to capture her she already had traced one, it wasn’t a easy one, Aisha knew she would need to sacrifice a lot for it and that they wouldn’t go easy on her, she had studied Hydra so well lately that she was pretty aware of how things would work there, she was terrified but she would not give up, she would fool and take advantage of them and they wouldn’t even realize that!

And Aisha did exactly that, she made them believe she was under their control while she gathered information and learned how to fight, they surely weren’t soft with her, but Aisha was used to the pain and she knew it was for a greater good, however, slowly she started to realize she would probably carry a few physical and psychological scars with her from her experience with Hydra.

Tony was the only one who she told about her plans and that also brought him some trouble with the Avengers, she had asked him to not look for her in case she was successfully but how would Tony make sure the rest of them wouldn’t try to rescue her? After all not rescuing her sounded extremely absurd to them.

Okay, this is enough spoiler for now, her story is REALLY long. :'D

Trivia

. Aisha has a very intelligent mind and is very prone to boredoom and frustration, as such, she is always in need of something to keep her stimulated. . Before running away from the Leviathan laboratory, she was learning a few useful languages so she could do her job properly, she learned german and russian with them. . Aisha has a very sassy and sarcastic nature and while some find it amusing, others may find it annoying, her nickname at the tower is actually "sassy pants" because of that. . She has black wings on her back, they come out through a big cavity that she has on her back, on both sides, that goes from the shoulder to her waist, her wings are extremely sensitive and she usually doesn't allow people to touch them. . Aisha is a feminist and when she finally gets famous and rich, she decides to build a safe place for women who are victims of domestic violence, she has helped many people to rebuild their lives, she loves people and wants them all to have the same chance she once had to rebuild hers.

Both artworks on here were made on Picrew. (1,2)

#oc #aishamcuoc #mcu oc #mcu #original character

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