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coeurify · 6 months

Note

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

#vampire!ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams smut

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nu-suave · 26 days

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LOVE LANGUAGES, SATORU VER. feat. gojou satoru <3

word count: 511

summary: satoru's love languages - giving and receiving. a/n: so this was going to be a multi character post but i got lazy. knowing me, i'll post a pt 2 later. with who? i'm not sure.

Satoru’s love language is pretty clear to anyone that knows him: physical touch. He keeps infinity up constantly, not allowing anyone close to him unless he is the one initiating that contact. He’s throwing his arm around his friend’s shoulders, constantly clasping your hand with his own, leaning into everyone’s space at any given moment. At the same time, he very rarely allows people to reciprocate. The exception to that rule is, of course, you; being alone with you is the only time he will let down infinity for prolonged periods of time while around another person. It takes a tremendous amount of trust but by the time you’re dating, it’s become the norm for him to drop his infinity the moment you’re left in a room together, pulling you into a hug or winding your arm through his own or swiping his hand across your cheek or leaning his head on your shoulder. Whatever you let him get away with, he’s quick to capitalise on - around him, personal space isn’t really a thing.

When receiving, however, Satoru’s love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation. It’s a lonely life at the top, after all - at some point, you become used to people seeing you as just the strongest. In a funny way, it makes him insecure. Not about his power, or his strength, but the genuinity of the people around him. Who’s to say that, when faced with the breadth of his strength and the extent of his person, you won’t leave like Suguru did? That anyone else can see him in his entirety, and not turn away from him in the same manner? Suguru asked him one, vital question ten years ago; are you the strongest because you’re Gojou Satoru, or are you Gojou Satoru because you’re the strongest? It’s something he still ruminates on.

This leads to a need for verbal reassurance. He hadn’t noticed Suguru changing, and isn’t that in part due to them not talking about their feelings? He both overcompensates and undercompensates in that regard - tries to play his feelings off as less than they are, and desperately seek reassurance that they’re valid and normal and he’s loved and care for. Those soft words of, I love you, I care for you, I’m so happy to have you in my life help quell the issue somewhat, but it’s a soothing balm to an open wound; it’ll take a long time for him to really accept that.

When it comes to acts of service, Satoru is guilty of adoring it - he’s the strongest! He doesn’t need anyone to do things for him, but when they want to? You wouldn’t be able to tell, considering how vocal he is in his appreciation, but it always hits him right in this soft, vulnerable spot in his heart that you steadily take up more space of. Making dinner, running him groceries, paying for sweets at a stall or even something as simple as opening the door for him or helping take off his coat - he loves it.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojou x reader #satoru x reader

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tommykinard6 · 2 months

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Buddie fans, my loves, come have a seat for a moment.

I want to have a chat, from a long time Buddie lover to you, whether you’re new or have been here a long time.

It’s okay.

I’ve been in the trenches with you. I’ve been pulling for Buck and Eddie to get together for years. I haven’t given up, even as I’ve seen other fans leave because they lost hope. I don’t blame them. The Buddie section of the fandom has been powerful and beautiful and all consuming. We’ve gone seven seasons and up until this point, not one of the two men in question was even confirmed to be queer.

But we all need to take a moment and breathe. That’s it. Stop doom scrolling for a moment and breathe in.

Good. Now hold for a moment.

And breathe out.

I’m going to get real here, alright? And you might not like everything I say and that’s ok.

We need to stop being a problem. Stay with me. I’m not saying we need to stop shipping Eddie and Buck. Far from it. I will love that ship forever. I’m not saying we need to stop our fanfics or fanart or our love for these two. Our feelings are valid. Many of us have been in love with these two for a long time. The Buckley-Diaz family is a strong unit.

Our feelings are valid and we feel what we feel. But our reactions are utterly and entirely our own responsibility.

We need to stop the bullying.

Let’s face it, many Buddie fans have also been long time bullies in the fandom. Particularly in regard to the actresses who have played the female love interests in the past. Don’t get me wrong, aside from maybe Ali, I have disliked every love interest introduced. But have we not yet learned to separate actress from character? If we are going to dislike an actress, let’s do it for a valid reason. Marisol’s actress for example is problematic. But many fans have rained hell down upon any woman introduced.

I’ve noticed this issue for a long time. But now we’re dealing with the issue being even more widespread because of Buck/Tommy. Now fans are bullying each other. The fandom is divided, even in what is probably one of the better seasons we’ve gotten (in my opinion). I need you guys to stay with me here.

Buck is bi.

Let’s say that again. Evan Buckley is bisexual. A major character on a major show on a major network, previously a womanizer and still a very masculine figure, is queer.

This is monumental. This is amazing.

But so many of you are letting your feelings about Buddie get in the way of appreciating the progress we’ve made. Especially with the reintroduction of Tommy Kinard, Buck’s love interest.

Let’s clear up a couple of things, shall we? Tommy Kinard is not Sal DeLuca. He is not Captain Gerrard. While he was part of the old 118 and definitely was in the old boys club, not only is he not the major problem, but in most cases that he’s an asshole, it can be traced back to his own secret. It’s not great, sure. But let’s look at the facts. Chimney is friends and still keeps in touch with him. Hen appears to hold no animosity and was clearly comfortable with him. In Bobby Begins, they all are friends. And clearly, Tommy has undergone a massive self-growth period. You cannot try to back up your point with inaccurate facts.

People can change. People can also be forgiven. It’s the prerogative of those involved. Enough said.

“But TK6,” you may say, “Buck should be with Eddie! Tommy is a plot device!”

Let’s set aside instant gratification culture really quick and talk about storytelling. You cannot get everything you want when you want it. You also cannot have your cake and eat it too. Buck and Eddie, if both queer, were never going to come out at the same time. Do we really want that?! Because identity is messy. Self discovery is messy. Eddie has Catholic guilt. Buck has self esteem/worth issues. Life isn’t a fanfiction. The real possibility of their relationship surviving such a transition isn’t all that high. IF Eddie is canonically queer, he’s going to have a rougher path than Buck has had.

Also, everyone is a plot device. Let’s get real. If a character doesn’t move a plot along, what’s the point? YES, Tommy is there for a storyline. That doesn’t in anyway invalidate his existence or his presence in Buck’s life.

If you want an instant Buddie storyline, visit ao3! There are amazing stories on there.

Now let’s talk about Buck/Tommy, or TEvan.

I am a long time Buddie lover. I also proudly ship TEvan. Yes, those can coexist. I don’t often multiship, but it’s a beautiful thing. I want Buddie to be endgame, sure! But I’m also okay if TEvan lasts. If they end up being endgame, will I be disappointed about Buddie? Of course. I will also be thrilled because Buck and Tommy are a sweet couple and I’m here for it.

As a queer woman, I’m happy that Buck is bi. Multisexual representation is still sorely lacking. Male sexuality that lets a man keep his masculinity while being queer? Even more so. Just take a look at the ao3 tag. Buck is emasculated in many fics. That’s why I stopped reading a lot.

We have a ship here that includes two very masculine men, who are emotionally vulnerable and exploring something new. I understand ship disappointment. But the negativity is wild. We need to stop the bullying. We need to stop the cheating storylines. We need to stop making Tommy into an ab*s*r only because we apparently can’t handle a love interest being a good person.

At the end of the day, these are fictional characters. It’s a fictional show. But these are real people. All of us are sitting here behind our screens with real feelings. We need to stop.

Buddie may one day happen. And maybe they won’t. TEvan might be endgame. They might not be. Tis the way of 9-1-1. It’s exciting, isn’t it? Waiting for something new and exciting. It was starting to get a little stagnant.

As a queer person, I’m not trying to gatekeep anyone. However, we cannot sit here and say “stop queerbaiting us!!!!” (They weren’t, we’ve always had queer representation on 9-1-1) “give us more representation” and then when they give it to us say, “NO! Not that way!”

If it was about the representation, it being Eddie or Tommy would matter a lot less.

So if you are someone using representation to shield yourself, kindly just be honest with yourself and everyone else.

In the words of our Lady and Savior Taylor Swift, “You need to calm down”.

Now, back off into the world of scrolling you go, my lovelies. Remember, keep an open mind and breathe. At the end of the day, it’s a show. But I for one will happily wait for every episode because I’m loving this.

#911 abc #9-1-1 #911 season 7 #911 show #tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #911 meta #I’m sure I’ll get hate and I’m prepared for that #however #I’d like to point out that you’ll simply prove my point #it’s two am and I just want people to get along #lgbtq community #lgbtq

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christinebloodwrittings · 1 month

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To hunt or be hunted #9

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Happy birthday! a late one at that... Warnings: Angst, fluff, bickering.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz

Three months passed, no one except Lucifer, Alastor and Charlie became nervous as time went by. Charlie didn't know what else to do about the contract, it protected you from killing yourself during its validity period, but after that she couldn't do anything to avoid it.

"Charlie, can I ask you a question?" She walked over to the stove, accompanying as you finished checking the meat in the pan. “If…if I happened to make it out alive, but your father were the reason for that, or Alastor, how would you feel about it?” Charlie choked on her water, to put it in a nice way.

“You’re asking me permission to go out with my dad?” she laughed, “Depending how okay are you with it” she snickered, “I mean, it would be weird” she started “We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t think I can see you as a step mom” he gave you a playful nudge on your shoulder.

“I don’t plan to play mom with you, I’ve already done it for eight years” you pointed to her bandaged finger you had fixed a few moments before.

“Do you like my dad?” what an interesting question, his advances did in fact made you look forward to spend more time with him, “I’m starting to get fond of him, I want to know if I should push the halt now before it’s too late”.

“And hurt him more than my mom already did? No” she made a pensative face, while the question brew in your stomach, “What if she comes back?” Charlie’s eyes shifted, “I won’t have her back” as a former mother that stung in sympathy for her, as little as that was, “That is what you say now, but I know you, that attitude won’t be there if she stands in front of you” sad but true, you knew her.

“Going back to my father, he’s old enough to decide who he wants to date” you let out a breathy laugh, “I wasn’t asking your permission, I wanted to know how you felt about it, I won’t have my wings broken by you again anyway” she nudged you again.

“If there’s anyone I would know my father would be happy with, you wouldn’t make the first of my list, but you´re there” you made as if there was something piercing your heart, with a stabbing motion of your hand in your chest, “Cold as fuck”.

“You wanted my opinion” she defended herself, “I didn’t say it wasn’t appreciated” you gave her a bite of a stir-fried red pepper, “Y/n, I love you, as friends or an aunt, but I will end what I started when you betrayed me if you hurt him” her horns peeked out of her head, low blow reminding you of how the battle became to be.

“Charlotte, even if he didn’t liked me, I’m ready to fight Jesus fucking Christ for you and this hotel” ‘you and him and Alastor more than anything’ you thought, “Don’t underestimate the growth I had this eight years”.

You plated a portion of the meat, stir-fried veggies and mush potatoes, “You and your dad have the same eating issue, so I’m getting up his dinner after plating for you and the rest” you said as you prepped the plates on a line, “Fun to know the only few things I have in common with my dad are issues” her sarcasm drew a smile on your face.

Her mean/sassy attitude was refreshing after a lot of her sunshine bullshit.

“Also your eyes, the way you hide your feelings from others, your cheeks, that lovely angelic happiness, the way you smile, your theatrics, the list is infinite” you winked at her, “You are his spitting image, the only thing you have from your mother is your hair, the height, and her temper” she groaned a little, “I got my singing from her”.

You hummed a no, “Ezekiel 28:12-13 say how beautiful lucifer was. God created him to be perfect in wisdom and beauty, a spectacle of flawlessness and gave him special capabilities in music and voice, the bible doesn’t lie” she looked at you in awe, “What? He’s proof of everything the darn book says” another blink.

You weren’t a believer until you saw Adam for the first time.

After bidding everyone a good night, you made your way to his room, tray in hand. Charlie warned you to be careful, she had heard some breaking sounds coming from his chambers, she was far too scared of his rage to interfere. Talking of her inner child saying be cautious to her.

"Your highness? You didn't attended dinner, so I brought it to you" you opened the door, the sight unnerved you.

There were rubber ducks that were burned, had their throats cut, were torn to pieces, or even turned to dust. The painting of his wife had claw marks on her face, there were feathers on the ground, his, and other smaller ones that didn't match his colors.

"I'm not hungry" your eyes caught sight of him, sat on the ‘your side of the bed’ facing the window. The light was not working, with the dim light of the city emanating from the window you could see his tattered hair and his wrinkled suit, also a few small drops of shiny golden blood on his arm.

"You have to eat, even if you’re not hungry, Charlie mentioned you didn’t ate much at lunch either” You didn't eat with the rest of the group, for the simple fact that due to your new anatomy you had to eat at least three dishes to be satisfied, and it made you a little embarrassed.

"Say my name" he whispered, his voice low and deeper than his usual, "Excuse me?" you pushed a few things off a table near you to set the tray down.

"It's always my lord or your highness, never my name, say it" his red stare chilled your blood, "Why is it so important?" you swallowed a huge lump to say that, "Then I'm not eating until you say it" he crossed his arms.

"You're being a child” in a matter of second he was inches away from your face, “And you secretive, since when? Have I gave you a reason to not say things to me?" his distorted voice thundered, flinching was so hard to avoid, "No" you bite your own tongue, "Then please, address me by my name" a few flames came out of his mouth.

"I don't negotiate with children throwing a tantrum" you walked around him, trying your best to shake off the sight of his angry face, printed in your mind.

"Why is it so hard to say?" He muttered, "And it's not a tantrum" you chuckled, "Sure it is" you accidentally stepped on a head of a former duck.

"You've still haven't answered, why is it so hard for you to say my name" you didn't had time to answer when his wings carried him to you again, "Do you fear me?" Your visible flinching giving his demonic form made his eyes widen, immediately shifting back to his simple self.

"You do fear me, wow, I don't... this is new" he plopped against the bed, feeling sad and heavy. "You know? After being almost skin to skin with you, I thought there was a level of trust" your pride stung, "I do trust you" you were going to say that because he is stronger than you, there was some caution in your way of being, but he then said, "But you fear me" "Maybe? Maybe I just respect you" "Oh cut the crap".

"You do that, what the hell happened here?" With a heavy sigh he pointed to an open envelope on the other corner of the room, "Lilith wrote, I thought it was to let us know if she was coming back but there were paperwork" Taking out the first sheet you read divorce agreement, the mess made sense now.

"She could've told me this herself but NO, she sends a cherub to give me the papers already signed" Poor messenger, "She has been in heaven this whole time?" His horns erupted from his head, "I KNOW, RIGHT? Of all the places she could go to" noticing how you took a step back he put in his best efforts to relax again, or as much as possible.

"I already sign them, if I seal the envelope it will be sent back to heaven to processing" You walked to sat by his side, "You want to do this?" He looked up to your face, "I can't force her if she doesn't want to be with me" He waived his left hand, the envelope then flew out your hand to seal itself and in a second it disappeared with a bright white light.

"Give me your hand" he knew which one, so he did, you slid his ring off gently, then kissed his released finger, "Think about it as a chapter of a book, now you inevitably have to pass to the next page" your free hand left the ring on your thigh and went to clean a tear going down his eye.

"Otherwise how you're supposed to know what lies ahead?" He pressed his cheek against your hand, "It hurts" his broken voice sent a needle like pain on your heart, "Mourn this love, you tried your best".

He let out a broken sob, tears streaming down his face.

He remembered how happy he felt when he proposed to her and she said yes, how elated he felt when Charlie's birth took place, and all of his wife's love was true and present. Seven years of sleeping in a bed with an empty space that no longer had his presence or her scent. After the second year he didn't even use her anymore, the memory of when she was happy hurt him a lot.

Now, the cold he felt was erased, you were there to console him. He Intertwined his fingers with yours without taking your hand from his face.

"You've still haven't answered my question, why while being so close I feel you so far away?" You thought about it for a moment, "Sorry Luci, I initially wanted to keep you at arm’s length" he took the ring off your thigh, making it go away.

"I figured, it hurt" there was a slight flash of red in his eyes, "Sorry" he shook his head, standing up "Don't sweat it ducky" breaking the somber angsty moment, you laughed, "Why the laugh?" His smile returned to his face, "Ducky is also slang from my time, means that something is very good", he chuckled at that, he had meant it as a nickname.

"Speaking of very good things, Charlie spilled the beans of forgetting somebody's birthday, it was a few months ago" he had a sing-song tone in the word somebody, "Oh fuck, tell me she's not putting up balloons" he laughed in your face as he added "And serpentines".

You groaned, falling onto the bed, "I'm in hell".

"Since we already missed it, but tomorrow there will be a celebration, and we are close to the witching hour, I wanted to give you something first" he walked to his side of the bed, taking a red box from under it, "You got me a gift?" He placed the box next near as you sat on the bed.

After taking the lid off, the little girl that lived off hurt and grief awoke from deep within you, a yellow duck plushie sat at the bottom of the box, huggable size.

"Go to bed! You lying, no way!" Your voice took a higher tone as you took the stuffed animal out of the box.

"A plushie, how did you knew?!" You hugged the animal, "You told me, that time you came back drunk" your happiness didn't go away buy you did halted for a second, "What else did I told you? I can be a huge blabbermouth" Indeed you were.

"Your contract with Charlie, and what is about to happen...to you" you took a deep breath, "Oh shit, well I really love this, thank you" what is done is done, you couldn't change the past.

"I'm glad, I thought I made it too fluffy" after he told you he made it for you, the purring started, Lucifer slid on the bed to hear you better, "Oh there's my reward" flushed you hid your face in the plushie, "It ain't that cute" in response he lightly pinched your face, "It's adorable".

"Thank you, Luci" one of his hands took yours, lightly rubbing his thumb on your skin, "Happy birthday Y/n, you don't look a day over 120" he winked, "You were off by twenty years" his bright eyes held so much pain and happiness at the same time, "You also told me to remind you of something" he pushed the plushie down, setting it aside, "Of what?".

In a blink his lips captured yours, gently making pressure as he moved, his hand went from the bed to your cheek. The surprise made you hesitate for a second, your shaky arms passed his shoulders, hugging him closer, making him smile on your lips.

It made you laugh how he took a bit of leverage on you by sitting on your thighs, straddling your hips.

"That" he teased, "Now that was familiar" your hands felt his back, admiring the position, "How much do you remember?" You remembered most things, but you liked to mess with him.

"Bits and bits" he lowered to your cheek, placing a chaste kiss, "Say my name" he whispered, "Is it a kink for you?" You gasped, his kiss landed on your neck next, "Say it" he moved again, his eyes on yours as you said it, "Lucifer".

His name rolling down your mouth made him crazy. Kissing you again, he felt like making it a little more intense, he pressed your body against the bed towering over you, his tail taking hold of your thigh.

His tongue licked the rim of your lip, asking for permission, "My tongue feels like sandpaper, like a cat" You shook your head, he smiled while snapping his fingers, then your tongue was smooth as normal, "May I now?" You nodded, his lips attaching to yours, finding a small gap to introduce his forked tongue into your mouth.

With one hand he leveled himself over you, while the other snaked his way to the back of your head, pressing you against him.

A small whine called his attention, he wanted to check on you, but when he separated a bit you brought him back, pushing yourself upwards and hugging his back with your arms. He hummed in delight, seeing that he was corresponded.

He made noises of his own, sighing when you took gentle fistfuls of his golden locks into your hands, those sent electric pulses down your core.

After a while, you stopped, pressed your forehead against his.

"You make me so confused" You whispered, "How so?" Though your hands on his shoulders, you could almost feel his heart beat, "I do feel scared, but in the middle of the day I think about coming back here, with you, and it excites me", and the thing that makes you scared is to lose the warmth again.

Giddy as he could feel, he smiled, "Well I do make a hell of a cuddle buddy". Laugh, that was all you could do. The lights on his room went on again, making the disaster look less worse than you thought.

"Now that you're single, I'm sure Angel can help you out if you would like to get out there again, the lady demons will eat you up with a smile" a direct stab to his heart, one that brushed off with a smile.

"I'm sure they would, but I'm pretty comfortable with you" there was no way he meant it, or was it? "While you look for a partner right?" He shook his head, "Stay...with me" why would he say that? Is already the second time he made that proposal.

"What if you get bored of me?" Worried, he noticed you were, "We sleep on separate beds until we miss each other" it was his turn to have his hands on your face, brushing off strands of hair, "I'm damaged" he smiled, "So am I, we have so much in common" how he could be so happy when you were so hesitant?

"I have issues and quirks and weirdness" how he could be so loving with you? He just lost his wife forever maybe, "I have depression, I'm weird and have a lot of energy, I may exhaust you one day" the sad look he gave you despite his smile torn apart something deep within you, "You could never" pressing a kiss against his temple made him hum happily, "I don't know if I'm ready for a commitment" you confessed, specially having your heart divided.

"Then, may I court you?" imagine a light, but instead of coming off his body only, it enlightened the whole room with an angelic hue, that’s how exited (nervous), he was. "We could go out, get to know each other, maybe seal the deal if I convince you" he said ever so sly, adding a bit of seduction to the mix, his charm was irresistible, "Okay, but if Charlie asks, it was your idea, I really don't want my horns pulled off again".

"You had horns?" he touched your forehead to try to find any reminiscent of horns, he was confused because he didn’t even found a scar, his eyes flashed a red hue again for a second, then he understood, he was able to see the colorful rim of your seal that kept your real self, hidden away.

He stood up and moved away, his magic aiding him to clean the mess he had done. Afterwards you ordered him to eat his dinner, the one that was kept decently warm under the silver lid. He took a few glances off the food to see you hugging the stuffed animal close to your heart.

How to explain what he was seeing? You, your eyes so lit with a joy that had been taken from you and denied for so long. You held the little animal so close to your heart, your knuckles forcibly white, as if you were afraid that at any moment someone was going to take it away from you.

He saw a girl, the girl that maybe you once were. A happy little girl with a birthday gift that she promises to always use until she wears it out, and maybe love it even if it is in tatters.

"How are you liking the plushie?" he finished eating, making his way to you, "I think he will take your place tonight" he gasped, acting offended, "What? I'm better than a plushie, I come with hugs".

"This might sound weird, because it is, but tomorrow morning, would it be possible for me to brush your hair?" Lucifer couldn’t avoid blushing, his surprise alarming you a little, "It's something I saw some people do for others, I just, okay it's stupid" he smiled, "A couples thing" you nodded, closing your eyes as you saw his face getting closer and closer, until he placed a peck on your nose, "I would love to".

You left a few minutes to eat your portion of dinner, then when you returned, Lucifer was in the middle of the room, only in his brief, short black boxers that made his ass tight.

"Oh hey, I come in the wrong time" you laughed, closing the door and facing it as fast as lighting, "You're too cute for my health" he laughed, his hoofed feet sounding closer and closer to you, "Look, nothing out of the ordinary" he turned you around, both hands on your hips, your back against the door.

Another set of scars making his sides look greyish, burned patches, by the look on your eyes he couldn’t make out if you wanted to ask about them, kill the person who did them, (not that you could really), or do the crying instead of him.

“Don't mind those” since his hands were already on your hips, he took on the opportunity to hug you, “You know? you asked me why I was bothered with things so earth bound" you bump your head against the door, "Me and my big mouth" his tail went around your leg.

"You should speak your mind more often, also, just so you know, I don’t want you to show me if you don’t want to, but I can see the spell surrounding you" ‘Again, I hate the way you see through me’ you thought, making the spell go away at will for the first time, because the other one was because of anger reasons.

"Alastor saw me like this, I couldn't tell if he was scared or disgusted" he chuckled, "For his own sake, he better not say a fucking insult your way" If he could purr he would, especially taking in your entire appearance at once. Broken brown horns, your wings dragging on the ground, the connection between your back and the bone was clearly loose and broken, you also had several spaces without fur, old brown marks that made his heart cry.

You decided to break the focus the king was on your skin, for two reasons the silence was giving you psychosis and at the rate he was going you would end up biting him, and not in a non-sexy way.

"Hey Luci, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" he took his cheek off your stomach and frowned in surprise, "Uhm yes, why?", you tried not to laugh in anticipation giving the stupidity you were about to say, "Because your beauty is angelical" but the punchline made you lose it, literally laughing your ass off while he pinched his nose trying to hold his own chuckle.

The next morning, something that came to you like second nature was waking up next to Lucifer. You usually had him hugged your waist like those little parasitic fish that hang from the skin of sharks, except that he was one of the good little fish, or rather a little duck that has a very bad awakening.

If you have seen a Polish chicken and the crazy hairstyle they have, then you can get an idea of what Luci looked like in the mornings.

You'd wake him with a few gentle caresses on his cheek, then watch him join you in the bathroom, heavy eyelids and sharp teeth showing from how much he yawned. For him, having you comb his hair was another level of intimacy that went beyond sex, due to his height his head was at the height of your breasts, he was perfectly fine using you as a pillow while you fixed the pompadour that he liked to wear every day.

He enjoying himself while you were fighting with a lock of hair as proud as him that did not want to fall in line under the hairspray.

Both already dressed, just like the demon on the radio (but don't tell him) Lucifer left his bowtie untied just for you to fix it, the occasional brush strokes of your fingers against his neck getting to puff up his feathers.

Internally you wanted to die, or run away. Charlie is very good at making up for shit she screws up, and forgetting your birthday wasn't necessarily an action that would hurt you, to be honest, since you hadn't celebrated it in a long time, simply no one, not even you, remembered it.

Even the bar had balloons and serpentines, the amount of confetti that came out of the sides of the stairs when you came down was so much that you would be spitting out pieces of colorful paper from now until the anniversary of the deal between you and her.

"Happy belated birthday" here and there, there was even cake, but Nifty had baked it so for safety's sake you didn't take a bite of it, no one in fact. Everyone swore they saw something moving inside the cake.

You and Lucifer agreed to go out that night, Alastor seeing this couldn't help but feel like something was slipping through his fingers. Almost as if he had the deer on the edge of the nose of his rifle and his trigger jammed.

"You look so beautiful, dear, ready for a second part of the celebrations?" ever so harshly he tried to get you away from Lucifer as he could, “Actually, Bambi, she and I will be going out right now” If the king's mocking smile wasn't enough of a kick in the guts for Alastor, the nickname made his blood boil.

“Isn’t it unfair to snatch the birthday girl on her day?” Him and Luci were starting to het dangerously close, “Belated day” you tried to add, “Not that you knew either” lucifer smiled, the air getting thick. “Guys?” you tried again, no reaction, “Big bad Bambi is going to stop me from treating her to a nice evening?” Lucifer bared his fangs to the deer demon, but far from make him retreat, he encouraged him so, the dials in Alastor’s eyes turning a furious shade of red.

“I could offer her something better” the king snorted in response, “Voodoo doll making and killing don’t make much of a date, you know?” the bickering went on like that until Alastor pushed a limit, “How about you go beg your wife for some sympathy instead?” now before Lucifer could utter a single word you put yourself in between them.

“Alastor, enough” he had to blink a few times to acknowledge you in the middle, “I think I have the right to spend my days however I want, do I not?” he growled a ‘Yes’, “Then we’ll have a drink in your studio once I’m back, how about it?” now it was that or making you angry enough to ignore him again, “Fine”.

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Part 10

Stay tuned :3

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ohnococo · 4 months

Text

JJK Men react to Reader on their Period

Gojo, Ijichi, & Sukuna

Gojo’s kisses start so light and teasing that you can never know when they’ll last one minute or twenty. If you knew you’d have warned him outright of what to expect, but you didn’t. So here you are, pressed to him and panting as he slides one thigh between your legs, tugging at your hips to guide you into riding it.

But he’s ultimately focused on something else, and he asks outright as always, “Wanna ride me?”

He says it like he’s pleading, and it only makes it harder to turn him down.

“I’m on my period, Satoru…”

He pouts, “C’mon, that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you right?”

His cute whines have blood rushing to your face, and you turn away smiling, “I dunno, I don’t want to make a mess.”

Gojo's long fingers grasp your chin gently and turn you right back to lock eyes with him, wanting his face to have its full effect as he makes a compromise. “At least let me play with your clit, huh? You can jerk me off too.”

It’s a valid suggestion, and by the way you bite your lip he knows you’re keen on the idea. He gives you another kiss, already sliding his hand into your pants.

Ijichi’s had his head on your lap for ages, looking up at you, listening keenly as you talk while you both relax on the couch. You see that change in him eventually though, blush on his cheeks, eyes getting glassy as he starts looking more and more lovesick just from being so close to you and hearing your voice.

It’s not exactly subtle with the way he’s been tightly clutching a cushion over his lap to hide the erection you very much knew was there.

“Can we…” he doesn’t need to finish the question, sliding the cushion away and revealing that he’s been hard in his pants for some time, thanks to the wet patch giving him away.

“Ijichi, honey, I’ve got my period.”

“Oh…” he looks away for a moment, considering his words, before his soft brown eyes are back on yours, “I don’t mind if you don’t?”

You think about it, smiling down at him, but the silence has him worried as he sits up and takes your hand in his. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” you squeeze his hand, reassuring him, “I’m glad you asked. I’d like to do it.”

You place a hand on his cheek, and he leans into your touch, lashes fluttering as he looks into your eyes. You kiss him softly, and when your tongue meets his he lets a little moan slip out of his mouth and into yours.

“I’d like it a lot, actually.”

Sukuna is kissing you, groping at your body hungrily in his usual path downward as teeth and tongue keep you from any gentle protests when he nears your pussy. When his hand finally reaches into your panties you push a little harder to stop him, clenching your thighs together and turning your face away from his barrage of kisses to speak.

“Hold on, I’ve got my period.”

“Oh?” There’s that wicked sparkle in his eye that lets you know you’re in for it now. He retracts his hand, to your surprise, settling it on your abdomen and rubbing firmly. “Does it hurt?”

His brows are raised, lower lip sticking out slightly in a pout meant only to mock you, “Shall I kiss it better?”

You aren’t given a chance to respond as he pulls your panties off of you forcefully, using his full weight on your thighs to keep them spread wide as he lowers his mouth to your cunt.

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #jjk smut #gojo x reader #ijichi x reader #sukuna x reader #satoru gojo x reader #kiyotaka ijichi x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #reader insert

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ginnsbaker · 10 months

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (16/22)

Chapter summary: You go through a difficult period following your breakup with Yelena, and you and Wanda end up falling down the rabbit hole for the second time around

Chapter word count: 6.4K | Warnings: Angst, Mild smut | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Before you say anything, I have a plan. Enjoy :) P.S. My requests are open

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Seventeen Part One

Sixteen

“And then she kissed you?” Agatha asks. She looks the same way she does when she’s actively participating in gossip, hanging onto every detail of the latest scandal that keeps most people entertained in their insignificant lives.

Wanda solemnly nods, as if validating a piece of tragic news.

“Why aren't you thrilled?” Agatha observes quietly, picking at her tooth with her fingernail. “I mean, doesn't that confirm that she still has feelings for you?”

“You remember what happened last time, right? When she did more than just kiss me?”

Agatha grimaces, “Right, of all places, in our stockroom." Then, her tone morphs into a more probing one, “But, did the kiss feel as if she just wanted to get into your pants?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, her heartbeat quickening as she reminisces about its tenderness. It felt akin to a first kiss—vulnerable, slightly apprehensive, tinged with anxiety, and yet, at the same time familiar—like finding her way back home.

It was perfect in every sense.

But it was tainted by its very nature. It was a betrayal. And if there were truly raw feelings behind it, then it’s worse—it would mean that you have been emotionally unfaithful to Yelena.

Wanda may have ruined yet another relationship.

In the midst of her internal struggle, she finally manages to answer Agatha, “It felt like hope,” giving voice to her undeniable feelings for you. “But she’s with Yelena.”

“I never really had faith in that relationship to begin with,” Agatha retorts dismissively, cleaning her hands with a towel before reaching for one of the cookies on display.

“That's a terrible thing to say,” Wanda chides.

“I’m only being honest,” Agatha says, unapologetic in her bluntness. “You were fucking each other like rabbits and then a few weeks later, she gets a girlfriend. That's a classic rebound scenario. I'm surprised the woman she's with allowed herself to be used like that.”

Wanda finds Agatha’s uninhibited words a little offensive, though she understands that their deepening friendship has allowed for such unfiltered honesty between them. Even though she's jealous of Yelena, Wanda understands that she is good for you. She doesn't like how Agatha talks about Yelena as if she's too naive to try a relationship with you.

Wanda feels she can relate with Yelena. Often, love makes us scared that we might never get a second chance, so we choose to take a leap of faith, despite the warning signs.

“So, what are you planning to do about it?” Agatha asks, taking a bite of her favorite cookie. Wanda makes a mental note to deduct that cookie from the stock count.

Wanda shakes her head, replying, “Nothing,”

Agatha pauses mid-chew, her eyes wide with shock. Wanda can't help but observe the crumbs of food lodged in her teeth. “You're not going to seize this opportunity?” Agatha questions, disbelief coating her voice.

“Y/N needs to sort things out,” Wanda lets out a heavy sigh. “Without my interference.”

“You’re not afraid of missing out on this chance?”

Wanda sidesteps Agatha's question with one of her own. “Why are you suddenly supportive? It wasn’t long ago when you couldn't stand her.”

“I’m supportive of you. I’m rooting for your happiness, dear. But I’ve seen you at your worst, and I think you’re putting on a brave face right now.”

Wanda's eyes dip down. Her friend isn’t entirely wrong.

“What happens if she decides to stay with Yelena?” Agatha probes further.

Wanda's response isn't immediate; she takes a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before replying softly, “Then I hope she’ll be very happy with her.”

Agatha rolls her eyes, because of course, Wanda would say that. Even if you were being served to her on a silver platter, she’d worry for your happiness over her own.

“And where does that leave you?” Agatha asks, folding her arms across her chest.

Wanda lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, her face unreadable. “Living life as it comes, I guess. Just one day at a time.”

At this, Agatha decides to drop the subject. She has a strong feeling that Wanda’s just waiting for you to come to her, and when you do, she's certain that Wanda won't maintain this pretense of indifference. As for Wanda, she doesn’t want to obsess over what you’re doing or thinking. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake of hoping for an outcome that only you can decide.

Switching topics, Agatha raises an eyebrow and asks, “And the pup? Is he doing okay?”

Wanda smiles faintly, “I brought him home yesterday.”

“Well, that's a relief,” Agatha remarks. “Do you reckon Sparky masterminded all this to get Y/N to your place at an ungodly hour? Can dogs be that crafty?”

Wanda throws her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious right now?”

A wicked giggle slips from Agatha, spreading until Wanda finds herself laughing along. She doesn't notice the arrival of a guest until the distinct sound of the call bell jars her attention.

It’s Valkyrie, casually leaning against the countertop, looking awkward and so unlike her usual self.

Agatha casts a sly glance at Peter, who's been trying to catch her eye ever since Valkyrie stepped into the cafe. When Agatha isn't around, Peter fills her in on the latest happenings, a reliable source of juicy tidbits. Peter quirks his brows and discreetly nods towards Valkyrie, his mouth miming a silent message. Reading his lips, Agatha pieces together that this is the woman who recently found herself entangled in Wanda's intricate web.

Agatha sweeps her eyes over the woman appreciatively. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Wanda rubs her palms together, a habit she’s developed before taking a customer order. “Hi, Val! What is it for today? We have new beans delivered all the way from Niseko–”

“Actually,” Valkyrie softly cuts her off. “I was hoping we could talk?”

Agatha watches their exchange, an eager twinkle in her eyes. With the pace at which interesting events are unraveling, she may as well pop a bag of microwave popcorn to truly savor the unfolding drama.

Wanda nods and moves away from the counter, temporarily handing the reins to Agatha. They pick a spot in the furthest corner from the kitchen, well out of earshot, much to Agatha's disappointment.

“First off, I owe you an apology,” Valkyrie begins. “I’d blame it on the alcohol, but there’s no excuse for me pressuring you too much to take shots. That wasn’t cool at all. You already said no several times and I ignored you.”

Wanda waves her off casually. “Oh, it's alright. I appreciate the apology, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You couldn't have forced me to drink if I really didn't want to, right?”

Valkyrie's frown dips further at Wanda's easy dismissal of the issue. “No, Wanda. If I'd kept on, I might've pushed you into it even if you didn't want to. I'm just glad Y/N stepped in when she did.”

Something flashes in Wanda’s eyes at the mention of your name. Valkyrie catches it but opts to ignore it for the meantime.

“Yeah, I did feel a bit cornered that night,” Wanda concedes, a smile returning to her face. “But it's water under the bridge now. Was there something else you needed to discuss?”

“You sure don't beat around the bush, do you?” Valkyrie attempts to lighten the mood, but her tension is evident in her shaky voice and the way her fingers fiddle with her watch.

Wanda chuckles. “It's a skill I've been honing lately.”

Taking a deep, measured breath, Valkyrie gathers her courage. "Alright, here it is..."

Wanda tilts her head at her curiously, wondering what it’s about.

“I like you,” Valkyrie blurts out. “I don’t normally confess to someone I’m not even dating, but you’re… incredible. That's how I feel about you and I thought you should know."

“Oh! Uh…” Wanda trails off, blushing at Valkyrie’s confession.

Valkyrie nibbles at her lip, observing as Wanda fumbles to put her thoughts into words. She silently hopes she's left Wanda speechless in a good way.

“There’s… someone,” Wanda manages to utter out eventually. “I've been in love with her for the better part of my life.” Or maybe her whole life, if she’s being brutally honest.

Valkyrie nods, her throat tightening to hold back the sting of rejection. “It's her, isn't it?” she ventures, silently alluding to you.

Wanda diverts her gaze and emits a modest laugh. She must have made her feelings too obvious for anyone to see.

“She’s my ex-wife,” is all the explanation Wanda offers.

“Wow,” Valkyrie looks taken aback by the revelation. “That sounds messy.”

“It's beyond messy,” Wanda retorts.

“Go on,” Valkyrie encourages.

Wanda looks at her, thoughtful. “Are you sure you want to delve into my past? It might take some time.”

Valkyrie smiles, already leaning in closer to signify that she’s all ears. “I made time this morning specifically to talk to you. I want to understand, at least, why I'm being rejected.”

Wanda chuckles softly at the gesture. Collecting her thoughts, she starts to narrate a condensed version of the turbulent history she's had, of how she ruined everything that’s good in her life.

When Wanda wraps up her story, Valkyrie simply says, "Wow, that's... pretty fucking messed up."

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Wanda admits, biting her lower lip, anxiety swirling in her gaze. She worries that revealing her darkest past may have cost her a budding friendship. “I think I saw your interest, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions and have the wrong idea. I just wanted us to be friends. I still do, if that's okay with you.”

“Of course, I want to be friends with you, Wanda. More than the fact that you’re hot, we have a lot in common too.”

Wanda's cheeks tinge a soft pink at Valkyrie's flippant comment about her being ‘hot’.

“So, friends then?” Valkyrie extends her hand.

Wanda smiles in relief. “Friends.”

***

A phone call rouses you from sleep. You groggily glance at the clock and realize you've overslept.

“It’s done,” your lawyer's voice cuts through the grogginess as soon as you pick up the call.

Disoriented, you squint against the daylight streaming in through the window. “What are you referring to?” you inquire, your voice hoarse from sleep.

“Vision has settled,” she elaborates, her words crisp and distinct. “And he caught a flight to Tokyo last night.”

“He's gone?”

“From what I've heard, he intended to use the settlement money to finance his studies overseas. He won't be returning in the near future. But even if he does decide to cut his trip short, you're safe. He has no legal means to trouble you anymore,” she assures you.

“You've got snitches now?” you quip, your eyes narrowing in suspicion even as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

Her laughter rings out through the phone, followed by a breezy, “You're welcome,” before she ends the call.

It's over. A chapter of your past has finally closed. Vision has physically left the city, and you've literally paid your dues. You hadn't realized you were in a kind of self-imposed cage until now, when a sense of liberation pulses through your veins.

Before you can fully indulge in the relief provided by your lawyer's news, however, a persistent knock at your door breaks your reverie. You can't help but wonder who it could be, and how they bypassed the building's security without a notification from the concierge.

As you pull the door open, you find yourself face to face with the last person you expected to see.

“Nat?”

She appears ready to tear you apart. For a moment, the thought crosses your mind, 'this is it, this is how I go, at the hands of my best friend'. Strangely, you're indifferent to whatever she might inflict on you. Having her here at least affords you an opportunity to have a conversation.

Yet, Natasha doesn't respond. She doesn't even spare you a glance. Instead, she brushes past you and starts gathering random items into a large duffel bag she brought along.

“Nat, can you please just talk to me?”

“What for, Y/N? I have nothing to say to you.”

“Yelena broke up with me,” you say.

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“Nat, please,” you plead. “You can’t just cut me out forever. I’m your best–”

“Are you?!” The outburst that tears from her is enough to make you recoil. “Are you my friend, Y/N? I woke up to my sister on my doorstep, in shambles. All thanks to my ‘friend’.”

You wrap your arms around yourself as tremors course through your body. Tears start to flow down your cheeks at the mere mention of Yelena.

“You want to talk? Fine, I’ll talk,” Natasha rages on. “I stood by you through thick and thin. I held your hand through all the shit you went through last year. I brought you into my home. I took care of you. I loved you–” Natasha's voice catches on 'loved', and your heart shatters at her use of the past tense.

“–and you just betrayed me, like I meant nothing. You betrayed my sister like she meant nothing. We both cared about you, Y/N.” Her voice dwindles near the end, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “So, no, we’re not friends. Not anymore.”

“Nat, I’m s–”

“You know what? I can’t fucking do this. I’m just gonna send someone to collect Yelena's things. If I don’t, just throw out her stuff like you did with your relationship. Goodbye, Y/N.”

The door slams shut behind her. You find yourself on the floor, curled into a ball, as you grieve the friendship you’ve known all your life.

***

Dark screens and unreturned messages follow.

Yelena has blocked you on every possible platform, cutting off any form of communication. Natasha hasn't, but she leaves all your messages unread, allowing your calls to go unanswered, seemingly enjoying your desperation. Clint ignores your texts, and Kate only responded once, promising to try and speak to Yelena for you. That was a week ago, and there's been no word since. You didn't think you'd be back in the dark place you were in a year ago, and the worst part is, you brought it on yourself this time.

The only news you get about Yelena is from your own mother. A few days after Yelena left your shared apartment, your mother called to ask what had happened. Apparently, Yelena had told her the news herself and asked her to take care of you and make sure you were alright. Throughout the call, you cried silently, feeling the remnants of Yelena's care for you even after you broke her heart.

And your mother, perennially at odds with handling emotions, simply offered her condolences. Although by doing so, she offered more support than she did when you were weathering your divorce from Wanda the year before. With your latest tragedy out of the way, she proceeded to ask if you could make time to visit Montauk over the holidays.

***

Drinking is… a problem. Again.

But you approach it with more caution this time. You don’t drink as much at home so you can avoid not showing up at work the next day. Rather, you sneak in a flask in the office, sipping from it from time to time to keep you the right amount of…adrift. You’re too good with numbers that even with a little haze in your head, the alcohol doesn’t interfere with your work.

It interferes with other thoughts.

***

When Kate finally calls you, you’re in the middle of a disastrous presentation at work. Her words had been brief, only giving you the time (three in the afternoon) and location (The New York Public Library) where she wanted to meet.

It takes some time for you to locate Kate within the vast elegance of the Rose Main Reading Room. She's tucked away in the northeast corner, engrossed in her work, even on a Sunday. A towering pile of books rises to her eye level on her desk.

“I can’t believe I was wrong about you.” Kate says without looking up as you settle on the vacant seat next to her.

“Wrong about me?” you ask, keeping your voice in a hushed tone.

“I had this fleeting thought that you might actually be a good person.” she says.

Swallowing hard, you struggle to find a response, well aware that Kate is just laying out the facts. What kind of person would cheat on their best friend's sister? What kind of person would throw away years of trust and a lifelong friendship?

“She told you?” you finally manage to ask.

“Yelena didn’t say much,” Kate says with a hint of sorrow. “But I've never seen her look so…” she trails off, struggling to find the right words, and eventually concludes, “She doesn't look like the Yelena I know.”

You’re afraid to ask what she means by that. You haven’t looked in the mirror yourself, in fear of seeing the results of your own wreckage.

“She quit today, you know?” Kate reveals, setting down her pen to give you her full attention. You don't see resentment in her eyes, only caution. This is the most compassion you've been shown since your relationship with Yelena fell apart.

The news of Yelena's resignation hits you like a punch to the gut. She had a promising career ahead of her, and she'd found a supportive environment in her workplace. It's hard to believe she'd just abandon that so abruptly. You feel a wave of nausea at the thought.

“I sort of saw it coming,” Kate adds. “Not her resignation–God, I tried my best to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. I… I saw you running back to Wanda.”

Your eyes narrow curiously as you regard Kate. “How?”

Kate sighs, pushing a pile of papers to the side to give you her full attention. “It's not a secret, you know. You might think you're being discreet, but you’re more transparent than you'd like to believe. You’re a completely different person when she’s around. I saw it during the 6-miler event we all joined by chance.”

There’s no point in denying any of that. The weeks that follow after that, you were crying to your mother regarding your conflicted feelings about Wanda. But if you had been aware of the signs as early as then, would things be different somehow?

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Kate,” you say, the words sounding weak and inadequate to your own ears.

“I know,” Kate says quietly, and there's a touch of sympathy in her eyes that makes you feel even worse. “But that doesn't change the fact that it did happen. And people are getting hurt because of it.”

You can sense that Kate is one of those people–by hurting Yelena, the girl she clearly loves.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you whisper. You wish there was another way to convey how sorry you are–a keyword to make it all go away.

“Yeah, me too. Mostly because I have to tell you that we can no longer be friends.” Kate says, looking genuinely upset about her decision, her gaze dropping to her hands as she twirls the pen between her fingers.

“I know,” you nod, appreciating her honesty. “Thank you.”

“Look, I have no idea how deep your thing with Wanda goes. All I know is you can’t keep running away. You can’t keep hiding behind the comfort of other people.”

You bob your head in acknowledgment, even though you're uncertain how to put her words into practice.

"Can you pass on a message to Yelena for me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously.

Kate lets out a sigh, her fingers halting their movement on the pen. “I’ll try. No promises though.”

“Could you tell her that I'm sorry...that I truly loved her?”

A moment of silence follows your request as Kate studies you, her lips pursed. It might seem hypocritical of you to make such a claim, but she refrains from passing judgment. But seeing your bloodshot eyes and your pale chapped lips and the lack of life in you, she thinks there’s probably some truth to it.

***

It takes you an additional week before you summon the courage to visit Wanda's apartment.

Truth be told, you've been hiding away in shame, confining yourself to either your bedroom or your office, instructing your assistant to keep the door closed and not to disturb you, secluding yourself from the outside world. Aside from interactions at your work, you haven’t talked to anyone.

A moment of misjudgment led you to lose everything that you were left with when you lost Wanda. But gradually, even as you were beating yourself up over and over again with the dissolution of your relationship with both Romanovs, Wanda became the only one you can think about. You can't escape her pull, no matter how hard you try.

Eventually, you devolve into nothing more than a compulsion; a compelling need to see Wanda. Which is what brings you here, with your fist poised to knock on the door. But just before your knuckles make contact with the wooden panel, the door swings open, and Wanda's voice unthinkingly spills into the hallway where you stand.

“–let me ask if the neighbor has some sugar–” Wanda halts dead in her tracks as she comes face to face with you.

The timid smile on your face drops as soon as you realize she's not alone. Behind her, comfortably perched on the couch is Valkyrie.

“Seems like you're already entertained. I'll head out,” Valkyrie proposes, getting up on her feet. “I'll pick up my shirt when you come around for the run next week, sound good?”

Wanda nods in a daze to that, her eyes never leaving you.

"No, I should leave," you counter weakly.

“No, Y/N, please stay,” Wanda implores. “See you later, Val. Thanks for the shoes.”

You stiffen and step aside as Valkyrie moves to gather her belongings. When she finally approaches the door, standing next to you, she tilts her head to murmur a parting sentiment intended for your ears only.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I had a spill on my shirt. Don't let her down this time,” she whispers.

Her words stun you into silence long after she's left.

“Y/N? Please, come in,” Wanda invites you, her voice trembling slightly. Nodding silently, you step inside.

You regard each other quietly, simply observing one another for what feels like an eternity. This isn’t how you imagined things would go when you thought about coming here this morning. You wanted to see Wanda because you needed to be with her. But now, all you can think about is Wanda and Valkyrie being all over each other.

“It’s been awhile,” Wanda offers, not really sure how to begin as you stay awkwardly near the door–as if you’re strategically placing yourself there in case you decide you want to run. She studies you, attempting to read your expression, to figure out what this could be about. She’s been thinking about the thumb drive that contained the video of her and Vision. Did you finally see it? Did you decide to pay him off?

Or is this about Yelena? Wanda’s been thinking if you came clean to your girlfriend about the kiss, wondering if you've managed to patch things up, and if Yelena has forgiven you.

If you’ve chosen to be with Yelena after all.

“Yeah, Valkyrie was here pretty early, wasn't she?” you state more than ask, a hint of bitterness edging your words. You glance at your watch, adding, “At 6:30 in the morning, no less.”

Wanda furrows her brows at your tone, as though she's on the receiving end of an unfounded accusation.

“She was on her morning run, dropped by to hand over a pair of shoes from her club's sponsor. Nothing more,” she explains.

You snort, "Sounds awfully convenient."

Rather than entertain your skepticism further, Wanda redirects the conversation elsewhere. What you presume about her and Valkyrie is the last of her worries right now.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Wanda asks, her voice a little unsure. When your eyes meet hers, Wanda sees the signs of sleepless nights and a certain emptiness that paints a clear picture.

You and Yelena are done.

And it's breaking you. Her heart aches, even knowing that you're now, technically, available. She never wanted this for you. And she can't help but feel that she messed up your happiness once again.

“I just... I needed to see you,” you admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Looks like you didn't waste any time though.”

“Valkyrie and I are just friends,” Wanda insists, the edge of her patience beginning to fray.

“You seriously think I'll believe that?” you shoot back.

Wanda heaves a sigh, exasperation seeping into her tone. “Believe whatever you want, Y/N. Doesn't change the truth.”

“She was wearing your shirt.” you highlight, not quite ready to drop the issue.

“She spilled coffee on herself. I gave her a clean one. That's it.”

“And I'm supposed to accept that at face value?” you challenge, an eyebrow arched skeptically in her direction.

“Yes, you are!” Wanda says firmly. “Because it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you.”

I wouldn't lie to you. Her words reverberate within your skull, playing on repeat like a broken record.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? You're not sure whether you can still believe her.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda's plea rings out, sounding lost and desperate. She isn't even certain what she's asking for. What she does know is that you're teetering on the edge of a breakdown, still reeling from the pain of your breakup.

You don’t look like you’re in the right mindset to talk about what you’re going through. About how you both left things. And as much as Wanda wants to figure this out with you, she can’t do anything if you’re not willing to trust her.

“Wouldn’t lie to me?” you repeat, your voice laced with sarcasm and a painful sort of humor. “Alright, let's put that to the test, shall we?”

Wanda's throat tightens. She's unsure where you're heading with this.

“Yelena and I broke up. She left me that same morning,” you start off casually, as if discussing the weather. “Because she deserved better. Because I am, as it turns out, selfish and deceitful, right?”

“No–”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Wanda's mouth snaps shut at your words, a sense of finality creeping into her. “...yes,” she admits quietly.

Slowly, you advance towards Wanda, your steps intentional and calculated. She remains rooted in her spot, refusing to back down.

“Do you feel happy that Yelena and I have broken up?” you ask.

Wanda looks hurt by your question. "Y/N, no, of course not–”

Your stoic expression tells her you're not buying it.

“Do you regret our kiss?” you probe, stepping closer, until Wanda finds herself backed against the wall. You lean in, foreheads almost touching, your dark eyes daring her to lie to you.

Wanda takes her time to answer, but when she finally does, her expression is resolute, as though she's trying to prove a point to you. “No, I don’t regret it,” she murmurs, her words a mere breath against your lips. Wanda looks so taken by the hungry look in your eyes that she fails to see what comes next.

The kiss this time is a stark contrast from the last. There’s an edge of danger to it, almost like the kiss that started Wanda’s downfall that culminated in a near-death experience, the kiss that was punishing and every bit of the hatred you harbored for her.

But there's also a desperation to it–as if you're sinking and this kiss is your lifeline; a frayed, ragged lifeline that could only be the one to pull you back to the surface.

As Wanda's head hits the wall with a soft thud, a pang of concern breaks through the haze of your fervor. Swiftly, you slide your hand between her head and the hard concrete, cushioning her as the urgency of your kiss escalates. Wanda almost sobs at the subtle tenderness behind your action, the considerate gesture leaving her somewhat taken aback, considering the harsh exchange you'd had just moments before.

No, this is nothing like your previous encounter.

You're not biting down to break skin. Your fingers aren't pressing into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your tongue isn't demanding or invasive, it's simply there, matching her rhythm and intensity. Wanda is unable to do anything but moan under you and rub her thighs together to relieve the pressure that’s building there.

Yet, you still don’t let her touch you. You don’t let her fingers venture up your stomach from under your shirt. Instead, you catch her hands, lacing your fingers through hers, and pull her arms above her head. All the while, your lips deftly trace a path down her throat. It’s soft and wet and so utterly delicate–everything Wanda thinks she hasn’t earned.

Nothing prepares her for the moment your hand makes contact with her core, even through the fabric of her shorts. She realizes just how much you’ve been holding back when you cup her forcefully, groaning from the heat and dampness that hits your palm.

If this means what Wanda thinks it means, she doesn’t want it to happen against the wall of her living room.

“Y/N?” she whispers raggedly in your ear, feeling the heel of your hand starting to grind against her clit.

“Yeah…?” you moan against her heated cheek as your fingers slips beneath her panties and find wet, wiry curls.

“Fuck–” Wanda whimpers at the contact. “B-Bedroom, please.”

Following her lead, you hoist Wanda up and her legs instinctively coil around your waist. She directs you towards her bedroom with verbal cues, realizing you're far too engrossed in lavishing attention on the skin just above her breasts to care about bumping into furniture. Your hand drifts up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and skillfully unfastening it.

And then no words are spoken at all after that.

***

Wanda stirs awake near noon, realizing that she's skipped her therapy appointment. Instinctively, her hands reach out to the area beside her, expecting to feel your warmth. However, she is greeted only by the cool sheets of the bed, the space vacant.

You're gone.

While she had been lost in dreams where she had a second chance at the life she yearned to have with you, you had quietly dressed and slipped out of her apartment, leaving no trace or note behind. You had vanished as silently and swiftly as a dream at daybreak.

Wanda arches her back, mimicking the languid stretch of a cat, the resulting pops of her spine easing the tension more than the action itself. The sex was… phenomenal. She couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

When a bit of the afterglow wears off, she is haunted by a question: What happens now?

More importantly, are you coming back? Or is this a one-time thing for you?

With a weighty sigh, Wanda allows herself to collapse back onto the mattress. Doubt creeps in as she begins to question whether her decision to let this unfold was the right one. After all, you’ve both been down this path before, sex was not a magic remedy that mended everything.

What she couldn’t deny, however, is how gentle you were with her. You were making love to her, and nothing could sway Wanda from this belief. It sparks a tiny ray of hope within her that perhaps this time, you're ready to give her another chance.

Maybe, just maybe, you're open to trying again.

Yet, the vacant space next to her feels almost accusatory. Wanda has never been fond of waiting. But it’s the only thing she can do for now.

After all, beggars can’t be choosers.

***

The call from her therapist comes at around nine in the evening. Wanda considers it a little unprofessional, given the late hour, but she supposes that Calliope sees at least a dozen patients a day. Truthfully, she’s been anticipating this call all day, especially after she deliberately skipped her session to–

A soft snore escapes from your half-open mouth, drawing Wanda’s attention momentarily.

–spend time with you. Wanda can’t explain it, but she’s afraid to bring this up to Calliope. And she knows that if she sees Calliope or talks to her, it would open the floodgates and everything will come rushing out before she can stop them.

She's missed two calls now, but the phone in her hand vibrates again and Calliope’s name stares back at her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally picks up.

“Hello, Wanda?”

“Hi,” Wanda replies, aiming to sound cheerful.

Calliope wastes no time getting to the purpose of this call. “You missed this morning’s session. Did something happen?”

Wanda's gaze drifts to you, sleeping soundly, your hair a mess as it spreads out in every direction. The sheets have slid down, exposing your bare back in a manner that makes her want to abandon the call and join you.

“Oh, uh... I just got tied up at the cafe. Sorry for not informing your secretary,” she hastily lies.

“So, everything's okay then?”

“Yes,” Wanda confirms, her eyes never leaving you as she replies honestly this time. Calliope seems satisfied with that and proceeds to book a slot for Wanda two days hence before ending the call.

You open an eye at her lazily, your voice muffled by the pillow as you ask, “Who was it?”

“No one,” Wanda says without batting an eye. “Just a supplier for the coffee shop.”

Your response is a drowsy murmur, your face sinking deeper into the pillow as you pursue the lingering traces of Wanda's scent. A smile tugs at Wanda's lips at the innocence of the gesture, despite the fact that you’re very naked under the covers. She hadn’t anticipated she’d see you again so soon, moreso that she’d sleep with you again right away when she does. But you had showed up unannounced, yet again, and casually asked Wanda if she'd eaten dinner already. Wanda had barely gotten the word ‘yes’ out, before you’re urgently reaching out and snatching her into a hungry kiss.

And then it was all lips and touches and her coming into your mouth three times until she had to literally cover herself with her hand just to get you to stop.

Wanda's cheeks warm as she surrenders to the memory of your fervent reunion from only a few hours prior, but your sleep-laden murmurings, muffled as they are by the pillow your face is buried in, yank her back to the present. She chuckles lightly and perches herself at the edge of the bed, drawing a line along your back with her fingertips, raising goosebumps along the path.

"Can you repeat that?" she prompts, massaging your neck.

You lift your head slightly, your eyelids still heavy with sleep. “I said–do you need me to go?”

Wanda shakes her head, even though you can't see her. “Let’s just sleep,” she whispers.

Wanda gets up to remove her shirt over her head. Then, she slides back under the sheets and curls up against you. She presses her bare body to your back, fitting herself perfectly against your shape. Your warmth seeps into her, filling the cold spots that your absence had left behind.

Wanda notes that this is the first time you’re willing to stay since before you found out she cheated on you. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift away. If you’re staying, then there's an opportunity to talk about this tomorrow.

***

Leaving a slumbering Wanda behind is not easy. You have to gingerly disentangle yourself from her grip to avoid waking her up. Initially, sleeping with Wanda was not part of your plan, but seeing her with Valkyrie had stirred a sense of jealousy within you that led to a powerful desire to claim Wanda as yours.

And so it kept happening, again and again–like a drug you just couldn't shake off.

You haven't really thought about what it all means. To be honest, you've been actively avoiding it. A week of overthinking has left you stuck at a dead-end, feeling numb and desperate to feel something, anything at all.

And in all this, Wanda is the only one who seems to fill the void, the only one who doesn't make you feel so alone.

***

“Dr. Williams?” Pietro says hesitantly as he picks up the call.

“Hi, Pietro. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time,” comes Calliope's voice, clear and loud.

“No, I was just–did we have a scheduled meeting that slipped my mind?” he inquires, wondering about the suddenness of this call.

“We didn't,” Calliope assures him. “I'm actually calling about Wanda. Have you had a chance to speak with her recently?”

Pietro doesn’t like the sound of this. “No, I haven’t. Is she okay?”

“She missed her appointment this morning without notice. It’s the second time in a row. And I just got off the phone with her… she was deflective.”

“I'll check in with her,” Pietro promptly assures, before adding more softly, “Should I be worried?”

“She has agreed to meet me on Tuesday,” Calliope replies, deftly skirting around his question. “So, it may not be a pressing matter. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“No problem at all, Dr. Williams. Feel free to call anytime.”

As the call ends, Pietro is left alone with his thoughts. His mind is whirring with worry for Wanda, and he sits there for a moment, lost in thought. With a sigh, he places his phone back on the coffee table, a frown etching itself onto his face.

Feeling restless, he picks up his phone again, fingers swiping the screen with a certain degree of nervousness. His gallery opens up, a collection of countless memories frozen in pixels. He scrolls through it, stopping at a particular picture that still haunts him.

It's a hard image to look at, a memory of a particularly painful day. But he keeps it, just in case he needs it, a ghost hiding in his phone.

He knows, if push comes to shove, he has this to fall back on.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #yelena belova #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader

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eros-elove4 · 6 months

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Being gender fluid is genuinely so weird sometimes… because I just went from being fem for months and questioned whether or not I really was gender fluid, then just got reaffirmed because my gender became masculine. I feel like people don’t talk enough about how gender fluid people can go long periods of time being one gender which is why it took so long for me to realize that I was gender fluid, sometimes it’s not a day-by-day thing and that’s ok! And most importantly still valid.

#lgbtq community #genderfluid #lgbtqia #lgbtq #lgbtq positivity #genderqueer #gender dysphoria #transisbeautiful #transgender #trans pride #lgbtqiia+

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mysticmunson · 2 years

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best kept secret; eddie munson

prompt: eddie munson is hated by every man in town, but secretly loved by all the ladies, and not just for his large personality.

word count: 3k

warnings: SMUTTTT (go away children), mentions of hands on necks, brief mention of breeding kinks, dumbification, idk what else but just let me know :)

Was this a bad idea? Probably.

No, this was definitely a bad idea, but you weren’t thinking when you showed up at Eddie Munson’s trailer at 11pm, horny and desperate.

When you appeared at his door, he was shocked to say the least. You had been in school together since elementary, in separate social circles, but you were never mean to him, so you were an acquaintance in his book.

“Uh, hey?” He said, shirtless in just some flannel sleep pants, making your mouth water already.

“Can I come in?” You asked, his eyebrows raising but letting you in, dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater.

“Not to be a dick, but why are you here?”

The question was valid on his end, but to you it made total sense. Eddie Munson just happened to be Hawkins best kept secret amongst women, he was known to be killer in the bedroom. While most girls at school would turn their nose in public, some did the same thing you hoped for, losing their mind against his sheets.

“I, uh, was wondering if I could have some assistance?” You stuttered, playing with the bracelet on your wrist as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

He suppressed a chuckle, “What, like a flat tire? Cause if it’s school related, you’re screwed.”

Smiling, you tried to think of any way to ask the abrupt question with any amount of composure or decency. The nerves stockpiling in your stomach were consuming you, but the need to be touched was far greater.

“I know your reputation.” You blurted, taking a step closer to him that you could practically feel his body heat.

“I think everyone does?” He peered at you, trying to get any read on your emotions or the reason why you decided to show up at his door.

Blood flushed to your cheeks as you let out a nervous laugh, “No, I mean, uh, with the ladies.”

The toothy grin appeared after a few beats as he took one step closer to you, only a few inches from his face. You wanted to look away in shame, but his brown eyes were capturing you.

“Thought you had a little boyfriend from the football team?” This was true, you had been dating Ben Prout for about a year and you two were far from a power couple, like Jason and Chrissy, but people were aware of your relationship.

“He doesn’t touch me.” The words felt icy, but it was the truth. Ben was a selfish lover, usually opting to finish and leaving you high and dry. “Plus he's been cheating on me with Marcia, from seventh period, for a few weeks.”

A bit taken aback by your vulnerable revelation, he nodded, taking a step closer to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingers were coarse from his guitar playing, leaving chills across your body in their wake.

“You need to get fucked don’t you?” The lewd words dripped from his mouth into yours as it hung open, breathing hard before colliding lips. While you began eager, it didn’t take long for him to take the reins, holding your face and determining the pace. He backed you into his bedroom, slamming the door shut with such force it shook the trailer a bit.

He wasted no time in undressing you, pleasantly surprised to see how your bra and panties matched, a soft lilac color with a small flower on the waistband. You sighed as his hands began roaming your body, his mouth nipping at your collarbones to leave hickies that would remain for days afterwards.

Stepping back to get a look at you as you fell against the bed had him pause, a sly grin etching his face at your needy demeanor. “So you came all this way, just to get screwed by the town freak?”

His body stood between your legs as he peeled off his shirt, an unintentional groan exerting from your mouth. “Yeah, I need you.”

“Awe,” He taunted, peeling off his jeans to leave him in his boxers, “You need to get fucked that bad? Going to a guy you barely knows house just to get stuffed.”

You agreed as he kissed down your chest, removing your bra, “Yeah, but I know you Eddie. We’ve gone to the same school for years.” You whimpered when his mouth reached a nipple, spit sliding off the curve of your breast.

“Y-You’re in that band, right? Corroded Coffin? A-and you’re in Hellfire with those other boys?” Your stammering pleased him as he released from your chest with a pop, not missing the faint blush on his cheeks, but making sure to make a remark to save his ass, “Someone did their research.”

The trail down to your navel was littered with kisses, nibbling, and sucking before his breath hit your soaking center. Eddie could be a greedy bastard if he wanted to, this was one of those times. Immediately pulling down the frail material, his fingers entered you as you mewled, arching your back. He let out a string of curses at the sight, feeling himself growing harder in his boxers, dipping down to place his tongue on your clit.

“Look like a damn pornstar. You’re soaked already, ole Benny been neglecting you, hm?” He cooed, watching as your slick began to cover his rings, shining against the light of the moon through his window. He wished he had a polaroid to capture this, but his lips went back to work against your bundle of nerves, already feeling a climax approaching.

“I think I came one or two times with him, but he didn’t go down on me.” You admitted, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at yours, a bit stunned. He chose to keep his mouth on your pussy, working faster until you were on edge. His two digits pumped in and out, curving to find your g-spot as he traced shapes and letters against your bud.

As your orgasm approached, your hands went to his hair, holding it lightly while your moans got louder. The first climax of the night rolled over your body calmly, slightly shivering as he quickened his pace, sensitive from it all. It had been months since you came and it was apparent.

Eddie lifted up bending your knees to your chest to get a better view of your swollen pussy, your wetness coating his lower face. “He’s missing out.” He ogled, letting his thumb run against your labia as you shivered, “Feeling okay?”

You gave him a thumbs up as you tried to regulate your breathing which made him laugh, coming to eye level to kiss you again. The taste of yourself mixed with his spit felt exhilarating, hand going behind his neck and gripping at his hair. He caught your bottom lip in his teeth, dragging it briefly.

“You wanna keep going?” He checked as you felt his clothed boner against your cunt, the feeling alone could have sent you over the edge.

“Fuck yeah.” You beamed, his own toothy grin making an appearance.

“Can’t lie to you, you’ve really got me going.” He started, “Gotta tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?” Once you acknowledged your consent, lips met one anothers again, his hand coming down to press your hips against the bed. You could feel him aching through his boxers while he grinded against you.

Raising himself up, he sat on his haunches and helped you position on all fours. This alone was thrilling as you had been accustomed to just missionary, which was good, but this was enticing. His hands grabbed at the meat of your ass, a hiss leaving your lips at the tension. He lifted to his knees, guiding himself against your center with one hand gripping at his headboard.

When his tip entered, you suspended any movement, completely focused on every ridge and vein. You felt his spare hand rubbing your hip, “Gotta relax for me, gonna hurt if you don’t.”

You obeyed, dropping to your elbows as he sank further in, beginning small strokes. He hadn’t even fully entered you yet and you were falling apart. The dainty noises leaving your mouth edged him on as he went deeper. You let out a ragged moan as he flushed against you, holding you still against him.

“Feel good, baby?” His voice was kind, but littered with arrogance as he knew he had you in the palm of his hand. “Wanna go faster?”

He thought your head could fall off from how intensely you nodded, he landed a slap against your ass before speeding his tempo. He mixed between full and half thrusts, trying to figure out what was getting you going the most, but they blended together as he saw how your upper half was sinking to the mattress.

“Tell me,” He gruffed, grabbing your hair to pull up to his face, voice tickling your ear, “How good do you feel?” You only released a squeak to his delight, a few tears falling down your cheek.

“Awe, you need dick so badly, don’t you? Just need someone to fuck you properly?” He teased, you hadn’t expected Eddie to be as into dirty talk as he was, but you should’ve expected it. He spent most of his time playing a fantasy game where he made new characters, of course he was gonna be good with his words.

He let your head fall back down, slapping your ass again, “Fuck yourself on me.”

You whined as your hips went backwards, stunting at the feeling of his cock fully inside you, but he smacked your ass harshly, swinging you back into motion. You thrusted against him as he enjoyed watching you adjust to him, taking a few calming breaths to make sure he didn’t explode quite yet.

While it was fun to see you try and get yourself off, he much preferred seeing you a mess beneath him. He clasped onto your side with one hand as the other went to your clit, flinching at the sensitivity, but immediately softening at his touch. You thought you could feel him everywhere as your mind began to slip.

Actions ruthless, he laughed as you came again, “Shit, you’re just too easy, you love it.” You cried as he didn’t withhold any motion on the account of finishing again, feeling your body shake against his.

“How much do you love it?” He gritted, moving his hand from your clit to rub at your stomach, the soothing motion was enough to get you to form words.

“A lot, thank you master.” You babbled, drool coming from your lips and a bit onto his sheets. But his mind was hyper focused on the pet name, yanking you up again by your throat, cool rings making it all the more hypnotic.

“Master?” He gaped as you gulped, he could feel it against your warm skin. He loved the name, always wanting to experiment with it in the bedroom, but figuring most girls wouldn’t want to feed into his peculiar status as Dungeon Master. Taking one look at you, he knew there was another motive.

“What’s my name?” His grip tightened against your neck, gasping with a moan as his hips still moved steadily. You whimpered, biting your lip in slight embarrassment.

“You got so fucking cock drunk that you forgot my name, didn’t you?” He ridiculed, his fingers going to your open mouth to rest on your tongue. More than anything, he was amazed he was able to bring you to this state, forgetting the name of a boy you’d known since childhood.

“My. Name. Is. Eddie.” He proclaimed, each halt resulting in a firm thrust, gasping at each one. You mewled against his fingers, but he pulled them to grab your cheek and look in your eyes, back fully against his chest.

“I love your cock, Eddie. So much!” You cried, letting him lower both of you against the bed, his weight resting on you until he propped up, still inside of you. He fucked you into the mattress, the squeaks from the bed and your mouth filling the room.

“Eddie, please.” You fussd as abruptly pulled out, much to your dismay, but you glanced back to see him extremely flushed. You could tell by the throbbing he was on the brink of losing it, hands rubbing his face.

Wordlessly, he flipped you to your back, kissing you as he thrusted in fully. You wailed, arching against him as he forced your legs against your chest, knees bending. Watching as he lifted your legs over his shoulders.

“Oh my God.” You sobbed, feeling so stretched out you could rip in two pieces. But if it meant you could feel like this? You would rip into a million for him. His knees shifted beside your hips, giving him better access to you.

He held your face in one hand as his eyes bored into yours, both of you too pent up to be thinking about how romantic these long gazes were. His thumb pulled your bottom lip down, letting him spit into your mouth to watch you greedily swallow it.

“You really are such a cock slut, aren’t you?” He cooed, “You get so dumb over my dick, let me spit in your fucking mouth, I bet you’d even let me fuck a baby into you?” While it was a backless taunt, he felt the way you squeezed around him, the thought of him filling you up to the brim had you aching even more.

He let out a breathless, astonished laugh. “You would let me fuck you so good, I could give you a baby? Just so you could get filled up?” You nodded in shame, crying as he bottomed out again, rubbing circles against your clit. “Would you let me fuck that little asshole?” He pressed, but to his surprise you kept nodding, watery eyes staring into his. He could see how fast you were losing it, mouth still hanging open from when he spit in it.

“You would do anything for this cock, wouldn’t you?” At this point, he was feeding his own ego, but watching you submit to him was as pleasurable as the feeling of being inside of you.

He groaned before kissing you again, hand coming to tweak your pert nipple. Your body was on fire underneath him, brain completely flustered by his actions, but you couldn’t tell if Eddie was igniting or extinguishing this desire. Was he fucking you so good you’d be sedated for a few weeks or would you need this daily?

You didn’t have much time to contemplate as your body shook, another orgasm threatening to come across your overstimulated body. Your mouth left his as you sniffled, his grasp on your face to force you to look at him.

You were at his complete disposal as you looked into his kind eyes, breath staggering as he approached on his own finish. You lifted your hands to cup both sides of his face, pulling your foreheads together.

“You’re okay, I got you, I got you.” He stuttered, feeling you convulse against his body before he let go himself. He cursed against your cheek, flooding your walls with his release, giving a few weak thrusts to milk it out, falling against you limply.

You laid in each other's arms momentarily, still wrapping your heads around what happened just seconds ago. He rolled onto his side, exiting your cunt while you whimpered, the feeling of being empty was chilling. But he pulled you into his chest, kissing your head affectionately, giving you a few more minutes to collect yourself.

“Do you fuck all your girls like that?” You couldn’t help, but wonder if this sensation was for all the women who wandered into Eddie Munson’s trailer on the wrong side of the tracks or if you had just gotten incredibly lucky. You felt his warm breath against your head, taking a sharp inhale.

“No.” He imparted, stroking his fingers against your soft hair, “I’ve only fucked, like, 3 girls like 2 years ago so word really does get around.” You giggled at his comment, suppressing the surprise that, while he was fantastic, he wasn’t this holy grail man all the girls came to.

“But this?” He trailed, his digits going to rub your arms, “This was by far the best though, that was so hot.” You felt bashful as you shoved your face against his rumbling chest, pulling you to look in his eyes, “Kinda hard to hide from me now since I literally just spent half an hour inside you.”

His tone was playful as you rolled your eyes, smiling at him, feeling his seed still seeping from your hole. You almost moaned at the feeling, a reminder of the way he contorted you into extreme amounts of pleasure.

As the laughter faded naturally, you laid there across from one another, exhaustion hitting both of you like a truck. You were able to peel yourself from his warm embrace to put your clothes back on, a sly whistle leaving his lips when you bent over to get your underwear from the floor. He noticed his release beginning to trickle down your thigh, resisting the urge to lap it up with his tongue and kiss you. He only snapped out of his fantasy to see you giving him the middle finger playfully.

“Thanks, by the way, hope it wasn’t too weird.” You confided, adjusting your belt to the correct loop, pulling it through.

“Not at all, I’m always here.” He foreshadowed, knowing this couldn’t be the last time you would wind up here because now he knew to seek you out as well. You smiled kindly, leaning down to kiss his forehead and walking out his front door.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

authors note: hey so i wrote this on a whim while horny so there's probably mistakes but WHOOPS.

i will never escape the horny on main allegations, sorry.

anyways heres the taglist, lmk if u wanna be on there, feedback is always appreciated :)

@meaganjm @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @wicked-wordy-witchy-witch @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangel @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @imsuchafriggensimp @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyy @strawwberrry @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession @diaryofthedoll

#elora writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie stranger things #eddie my love #stranger things s4 #eddie my beloved #stranger things #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x y/n #stranger things season four #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things season 4

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 months

Text

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

Thank you @metalbvcky. NPT for @mrs-illyrian-baby @doasyoudesireandlive @km-ffluv @labella420

🍓 How did you get into writing fanfiction?

As a teen I was a voracious reader and tried to write my own stuff based on other books I'd read. I also loved ST:TNG and wanted dearly to be in an episode and had lots of the books. I wrote my own ST stories with OC's (gratuitous self inserts), but they never went anywhere. In my late teens I read some Xena fanfic on the internet. But that was it for a great number of years.

At the beginning of 2021 I sat and watched the entirety of the MCU films in chronological order (I'd seen most of them before and was mainly a Thor gal.) I fell down the Stucky rabbithole. Deep. I decided to look up fanfic. AO3 was now a thing! I wrote (a very poor) Stucky fic and here we are, almost 3 years later

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

As my ST stuff never made it further than my parent's old PC in the days of dial-up, I won't count it.

I've written for MCU, various Chris Evans and Seb Stan Characters and one fic for RWRB. I've been toying with writing a one-off Criminal Minds fic as a gift for a friend.

🍈How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Three in July since I first published anything on AO3.

🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I try to balance it out. If I have a period of hyperfocus writing I try to then go through a period of reading. I read on both Tumblr and AO3, so try to keep that even as well.

🍌What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Getting betas to pick me up on tense changes, overuse of words and rogue commas. Reading more. Practising. Writing outlines for longer stories so I don't go off-piste.

🍑Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

Getting bored half-way through a long fic, especially if the first few parts haven't had a lot of interaction. Which is why I try to write the whole thing before I start posting.

🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Engineering courses at MIT and, for a separate fic, Violet wands, including the ways to use them and the differnt types of accessories you can use with them. I even watched a Youtube video.

🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any comment! Anything that gives me the validation I need!

🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I wrote a transformation into Tsum-tsum fic that was both cracky and smutty. That's pretty niche.

🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Action scenes. I loathe them. I'm constantly wondering if they are long enough, and make sense.

🍏What is the easiest type?

Short things that are either PWP or fluffy slices of life.

🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Mainly on my elderly laptop on G-Docs, and in every moment I can - normally afterwork before dinner and on Mondays when I don't have work.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

There are a few characters and ships I haven't written that I'd like to. And I suppose I'd like to write a proper long, over 100k fic at some point.

🍇 what made you choose your username?

When I made my AO3 account I felt as though that at 40, and only really starting in Fandom in this way, I was late to the party, so that is who I became.

#tag games #getting to know you #jen answers

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yuesya · 10 months

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Twin AU is watering my crops and clearing my skin ngl. Could we maybe see the moment of realization for Satoru (and maybe Shiki) about her situation as a cursed spirit? Because there’s probably a period of time when they both were effective toddlers that Shiki wasn’t yet hosted inside Satoru yet right? Or what is the development of personhood like what you effectively don’t have your own body? And how did they discover that Shiki was Satoru’s murdered twin?

Satoru had always known that he wasn't alone.

... There's no grand moment of dawning comprehension leading up to this realization, or anything of the sort. He just... knew. It's kind of hard to explain. Sort of like how a person knows how to breathe without ever actually learning how to breathe? Except this is something that's entirely beyond simple bodily instinct. It's really hard to describe using words.

Satoru had always known that Shiki was there with him, long before he ever knew who Shiki even was.

Every day when he wakes up in the mornings in his too-large room, he'll touch his hand to the ground at his side Good morning. His shadow promptly reaches back to him, cheerfully answering him in greeting.

When Satoru is on the verge of dozing off during one of his elder's droning lectures, his shadow insistently nudges him beneath his legs, keeping him just awake enough to prevent him from toppling over and making a fool out of himself. Or, even worse, earning himself an hour-long reprimand from an displeased elder over the lack of decorum.

Sometimes, when Satoru is alone, he'll purposely make silly shapes with his body. And laugh, when his shadow doesn't copy them properly. Then he'll stomp his feet in frustration, when his shadow smugly gets back at him by contorting itself into shapes that are impossible for a human body to mimic in turn, the cheater!

... It takes an embarrassingly long time before Satoru realizes that your shadow isn't actually supposed to play games with you.

It's not a realization that occurs all at once. It's something that creeps up on them as Satoru dives deeper into his lessons as a sorcerer, when they learn more about jujutsu together.

"Are you a cursed spirit?" Satoru finally asks one evening. His shadow wiggles in a 'dunno, probably?' sort of gesture. "Y'know, you're pretty harmless, for a cursed spirit."

His shadow crosses its harms huffily; Satoru grins.

"Aw, don't be like that, you know what I meant." Cursed spirits are amalgamations of evil and hatred, and must be exorcised for the sake of peace and order. Or so their teachers kept saying. "How did you even get here, anyways? And why me?"

Another wiggle.

But it's a valid question -with all the layers of seals and protections slapped over the Gojo Compound, it's impossible for any cursed spirits to slip through the cracks unnoticed. And yet the cursed spirit living in his shadow has clearly done just that. His Six Eyes informs him that the cursed spirit's energies blends perfectly with his own, which adds another layer of oddity to the mystery.

Everyone's cursed energy signature is different; families are similar, but not even siblings share the exact same signature. Was this a cursed spirit born of Satoru's own overwhelming cursed energy, somehow?

... Logic says that it's plausible, but his intuition tells him otherwise.

Satoru doesn't put together the pieces until his younger cousins are born. A pair of twins, a dark-haired boy and a dark-haired girl, sleeping together on the same cot. The way that their cursed energies intermingle next to each other is exactly the same as Satoru and-

...

... Midori-oba looks scared, instead of happy. Why?

"Cursed twins," his aunt whispers, trembling. "An ill omen, oh no... My husband is furious with me. Hina-neechan gave birth to you, while I- I-"

Satoru tunes out his aunt's incoherent ramblings, and instead focuses on cursed twins.

An ill omen, cursed twins. For twins begin as one singular entity in their mother's womb, and despite coming into this world as two individual bodies, they are still One. Each is only a mere Half of their Self, an empty shadow and pale imitation of what they could've been. Neither twin will ever reach their full potential, unless preventative measures are taken.

Satoru frowns. He doesn't like the sound of these 'preventative measures,' because if the implications are true, and knowing what the elders are like...

Six Eyes. Limitless. The Honored One.

What if the honored one was born with a cursed twin? ... What would the Gojo Clan do?

But did Satoru really have a twin? There's no trace of it -his father had told him about his late mother before while reminiscing, but he's never mentioned a twin sibling. Discretely poking around among the servants also reveals several glaring vacancies (sudden deaths) for those who'd been present during Satoru's own birth, which is not a great vote of confidence.

"... Are you really my twin?" His blood feels cold, a chill that runs down to his bones. Did he have another sibling? Did the clan kill his twin?

His shadow wobbles sluggishly. Satoru bites his lip, concerned.

Despite their innate compatibility with each other, the only way a spirit can truly dwell within a person's shadow was if the person in question was a Ten Shadows user. The bindings holding them together are fraying, growing weaker by the day -Satoru doesn't know how to keep his sibling with him!

And if it breaks- The Gojo Clan-

I won't let that happen.

Satoru's eyes narrow, determined. "I won't let you die again. I refuse to let you die because of me!"

How does one keep a cursed spirit with them?

By providing them with a proper vessel.

How does one hide a curse in a family of sorcerers?

By hiding them somewhere sorcerers will never notice or think to look.

... Satoru knows what to do.

The solution is simple: He takes his twin into his own body.

...

It's...

It's like suddenly drinking a large mouthful of ice-cold water, and Satoru can feel them spreading inside his body. He gets exactly one second to remember that, despite everything, they are a cursed spirit and Satoru's body isn't exactly one suited to be a vessel in the first place, maybe this was a bad idea-

But there's no accompanying pain. Nothing of the sort. Satoru gets the sensation of a soft sigh from his twin, as they carefully curl themselves through Satoru's flesh and blood and...

... goes to sleep.

... Wait, goes to sleep?? Just like that? Doesn't he at least get a 'thank you' or something?!

Unbelievable.

...

That night, Satoru has a dream. There's a little girl his age who appears in front of him. White-haired and blue-eyed just like him, and the moment she looks up and catches sight of him, she smiles brightly.

"Toru-nii!"

Satoru catches his little sister when she throws herself at him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he says. I'm sorry that it took me so long to figure things out. I'm sorry that you're dead, because of me. "I'm so sorry."

The girl tilts her head in confusion. "Why?"

Satoru chokes, "Do you really have to ask?!"

"Silly," his lookalike laughs, reaching up and patting his cheek in comfort. "Toru-nii has nothing to be sorry for."

Actually, no, but Satoru isn't about to let their first conversation together devolve into an argument. "What's your name? ... Wait, do you have one?"

"Shiki." They blink at each other in mutual surprise, and the girl -Shiki- scrunches her face in confusion. "My name is... Shiki?"

... She actually has a name. The clan even named her -then denied any records of her existing and killed her afterwards?? She's not even on the family grave! Were they trying to make his sister into a vengeful ghost??

Satoru breathes in deeply -even though this is a dream and he isn't actually breathing in deeply like this with his physical body right now, but, details- and firmly puts his hands on his sister's shoulders.

"Shiki," he says. "Do you know who killed you?"

His sister shakes her head. Well, it was a long shot -if Satoru had the timeline pinned down, then the clan would've ordered her death within the first few months after they'd been born. Children don't really start retaining conscious memories of their childhood until they're at least a few years old, so it makes sense that she wouldn't remember. In fact, it's probably for the best that she doesn't remember her no-doubt traumatic death.

"It'll be alright," he says. "It'll be alright. Toru-nii will protect you."

But first, he needs to know who in particular to protect her from. It takes Satoru awhile, over the course of a few years, but he's able to put together the minuscule pieces bit by bit. If Satoru hadn't possessed the Six Eyes and if it weren't for Shiki's own discerning eyesight, the investigation would've been a lot harder.

But the conclusion that they find at the end... it's...

...

Father? Really? Shiki had been killed by their own father?

Satoru can't believe it. Yes, Gojo Muneyoshi is another one of the elders' worthless puppets and only all-too-interested in polishing Satoru into the clan's sharpest weapon. But the man is a coward. Did he really have the guts to murder his own child?

... Only one way to find out.

The perfect opportunity comes one evening when both of them are awake, and going over Satoru's boring history texts. Muneyoshi gets up in the middle of the night, presumably to relieve himself or to fetch a glass of water, or something along those lines. Satoru deliberately turns on all the lights in his room.

As expected, Muneyoshi makes his way over.

“I guess it’s a good thing that at least one of us is interested in this rubbish, so we can at least get lessons over with quickly." Satoru sighs dramatically, and inside his head, his sister's giggles echo incessantly. "Counting on you for the next test, Shiki!”

Outside their room, Muneyoshi freezes. The man's cursed energy trembles with heavy, unspoken guilt. But there's no hiding anything from the Six Eyes, and Satoru has his answer.

So it really was you.

His fingers tighten on the edge of his history scrolls.

... It's not fair.

It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. Why does Shiki have to die? Just because some elders think it means that it will curtail Satoru's power? There's no proof! And Satoru is strong. Even if his sister was a non-sorcerer -which she wasn't- it didn't matter; Satoru would be strong enough for the both of them, if that was what it took. But they wouldn't even give her a chance, and they just-!

Toru-nii?

... Don't worry, I'm fine, Shiki.

That night, Satoru resolves to himself that he'd rather see the world burn, before he ever let any of them touch his little sister again.

#QA #Writing #zenith of stars au #twins au #thank you for readinggg #glad you're enjoying the au anon!#... even despite all the angst lol #hi yes i'm an author who likes writing happy things why do you ask-

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