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ballorawan740 · 3 years

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SCP Scenarios: When their kids swear at them (REQUESTED)

Requested by: @Astro_KeySimp

WARNING: Swearing (sorta)

Ok so I kinda made the reader into the child since don't remember if you wanted the reader to be a child or not, so if it wasn't to your liking, then I'm sorry, but I can make a separate version on where the reader isn't the child

It kinda became more of the SCPs and doctors being dads than their reaction to their kids swearing

SCP 073 (Cain)

Cain was walking around with you since you were bored and there wasn't anything to do

Being unaware of what some of the staff were saying, ye went over to grab you some food for later in case you got hungry

Once you both went back, he watched you play with some Legos and was talking as if it was your Lego friends talking to you

Cain looked away for just 10 seconds and heard you shout out "Wow! He said that her baby's such a bi-" which shocked him as he heard it

Cain looked around and made sure that nobody was around the room and was somewhat surprised that you was the one saying this

Being a good dad he is, Cain explained to you carefuly that you shouldn't say that word because it's bad

And being a sweet shy child, you obliged and stopped saying the word

Til this day, Cain had no idea about where and who you've heard the word from and is very much more self-aware

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

Abel is that type of dad who would teach you all the bad words and encourages you to say them

It's the researchers who had to teach you top not to say those words

One time, Dr Glass came in to examine you and had rewarded you as usual since you were so cooperative

You drew a picture of you and Abel talking in a garden with bright coloured flowers

Simon asked if he could see your drawing and saw that the conversation you and your dad had was those of swearing

This surprised Simon since you knew so many at such a young age but wasn't totally shocked since he knew that you were Abel's child

And knowing him, he wouldn't teach you to be nice, so Simon took the job as a mother hen and taught you to not use those words around people

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

Ok, so I'll keep this SCP short since I, again, don't know what I should write for this adorable, squicky, neon-orange, bubby blob

Another SCP who doesn't cuss

This adorable squishy boi here was about to have a heart attack when he heard you swear fir the first time

He had to ask you worryingly where you heard that phrase and you just said some guy wearing a white jacket

999 sighed knowing that you'll grow and couldn't do anything to stop it

He did, however, mention that you should try and avoid saying those things to anyone and that they'd most likely have a heart attack since you were his child and you won the genetic lottery for being the cutest and outgoing child in the world

The only other person who knew of this was Dr Glass (sucks to be him ngl, he do be a mother to everyone) and he had to help poor 999 with teaching you better words

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

YAY! Another SCP who would teach their kid to swear

682 has such a dirty mouth like 076 and would 100% teach you all the words he knows

Similarly to what happened with Abel, you were taken for an interview with Dr Sophia Light since she was assigned to you

She's such a sweet and kind doctor to be around and would teach you anything and everything you would probably need to know all the while keeping an eye on you in case you become overly aggressive like 682

You were just eating some sweets Lights had given you for good behaviour and overheard some researchers swear

Remembering what your dad had taught you, you just repeated those curse words while clapping at your achievement

This had shocked Sophia and that researcher since you were known to be a moderately shy and quiet child who normally wouldn't say those things despite being 682's child

Sophia had to ask if you understood the meaning of those words and shook your head as an indicator for no

She had to carefully find her words and told you to never speak of those words again and took you back to 682's cell

You went and hugged your dad and told him that you learnt from the doctor that those curse words were bad and neither of you should say them

682 had a headache after that

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

I have a hard time thinking that 049 would teach his child to cuss and would avoid swearing in front of them at all cost

Like, he barely swears anyways but he wants to stay classy and sassy for his innocent child

Just like the other day, his kiddo, you, was curious about the whole surgery thingy he does on the dead bodies, so you asked him to teach you and so he did (like the good father we nevah had)

So you learnt some new, yet difficult, words (cuz we all have a nonexistent pea-sized brain) and somehow, you managed to fit in a curse word

This did surprise 049 as he had remembered that he didn't teach you those foul words

He had to give you a talk about using such words and you teared up since you thought that people used them to express their affection to others

Unsurprisingly, 049 took his sweet time looking for the guy who 'taught' you this and wanted to use him as a case study for your future lessons

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Another parent with such an amazing influence on children

035 would teach and enable you to use swearing as a form of expression

So you were free to say whatever you want as long as they aren't directed to our mask here, especially if it's in a negative way

Otherwise, you'd be punished (No not like that! He'll just ground you from your favourite TV show/movie)

The researchers were surprised, not about you swearing, but how you use them through expression

Except for this poor guy who was new to the foundation and bumped into you by accident

This rookie found himself listening to you cursing like a sailor (maybe not that much but more or less on the same level as Samuel L Jackson)

Word got out and everybody laughed at the poor rookie and told him more about your background and how you love to swear (apparently swearing will prolong your life, so you'll basically be immortal here)

035 was impressed by the whole ordeal and rewarded you with more shows to watch whenever you're both free

SCP 105 (Iris)

Iris would accidentally swear in front of you and whenever she realises it, she would tell you to not swear at people since it wasn't very nice

So she would use words to replace the swearing like "oh fudging hell not now" and "no sugar honey ice tea"

The foundation felt that it was slightly unnecessary but went with it anyways

They'd even go as far as saying that it's ridiculous, but who are they to judge?

Iris was your mother and she's a single mum too, so she felt the need to be overly beating but would occasionally let you decide on your own since you were only 12

The foundation members did tell her that you will eventually grow and more of these words will be used but she just hesitates

As a teen, you did begin to use foul words more often and Iris would argue about how you're using them, especially towards her, your own mother

Needless to say, you both felt bad and made up

SCP 106 (Old Man)

Now this old man right here doesn't exactly speak, or at least very rarely

And if he does, he'll most likely be talking to you or the foundation staff if he needed some help finding you

He'll most likely be able to understand what the researchers are saying, even if they aren't speaking English

My own personal hc is that 106 understands English, German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Arabic and Indonesian and probably many others

Every now and again, somebody would come in and teach you new words and give other lessons like maths and poetry (our favourite)

You came back home to tell him all the things you've learnt as he watched you in awe as he braided your hair

You've even used some new phrases, including swear words while talking and 106 was pretty impressed

I feel that he's quite neutral with swear words since words are words and are used as a form of verbal communication

So I don't think they'll be much change in his behaviour to whether you're swearing or not

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

Now with 096, all he does is scream

So basically, somebody else would have to teach you some words

It's not to say that 096 is a dumb animalistic creature with no soul and just kills people who look at his face

He isn't stupid since he manages to find anyone who looked at his face from the other side of the globe

And he seems to understand what the researchers are saying, or at least on a more intermediate to moderate level

You'll learn about swear words from the other researchers, whether they'll be teaching it to you intentionally or you've overheard them

The foundation could really care less, but would at least prefer that you chill a bit if you got carried away

096 would act all cheery when you learn more new things as it's not like the foundation would let him out anyway, so he'll be living the outside world life from you (How relatable, but more with babysitting and dating, cuz I'm too pretty for anyone to date XD)

Like with 106, I don't think 096 would have any special reaction towards swearing, but would probably be screaming internally for a bit since he knows that it isn't a nice word

Dr Jack bright

This mf right here is one of those parents who would be kind but firm

Bright would most definitely give in to your curiosity and teach you whatever you want to learn but would warn you of the dangers

Depending on what it is, he would even go as far as giving you your own personal guard who would stay with you and train you

And unfortunately, this guard has such a foul mouth, so you're constantly exposed to such words

Luckily for the both of you, Jack Bright doesn't really care about swearing as long as you're not being extremely inappropriate if you were to work

He would even joke around with you sometimes and would even start the conversation with swearing

For instance, he'd just surprise you with a "Yeet his mf outta my sheithole"

And yes, you did laugh at his antics

Some would even say that you're an exact clone of him but more stable (for now)

Well, Bright is an amazing dad, but I'd say just below Dr Glass

Or maybe even on par with him

Like Bright is a goofy dad that has all the terrible dad jokes and Glass would be the type of dad to look out for his kid

Dr Simon Glass

Dr Glass would most definitely avoid using swear words, especially if you were under 15

Even if you were over 15, he'd still avoid swearing unless he wants to make a joke or 2

So most of the time, you'd learn all the swearing from other people and SCPs

Sometimes you would swear by accident and Glass would just look at you, slightly disappointed

I'd say he doesn't exactly care about you swearing per see, but would rather you avoid it

It's cuz Simon is the best dad a dad could ever dad and nobody could prove me wrong here

He's also one of the top best dads compared to the others on the list

He's basically your best friend so he'd let you vent and its the 1 time he'd let you swear to show your emotions

Simon would 100% know your thoughts and behaviour

He's just that good at reading people, especially you - almost to the point where people would say he's an SCP cuz I swear he's just empathic and telepathic

As mentioned before, Glass would be the type of dad to care for your mental health

It's not that the others don't, it's just that Glass is a top their God of Psychology and would come to you before you even know you have depression

He would even crack a joke sometimes

So every so often, he would shout out "LANGUAGE!!!" from across the room before you could even bat an eye and say anything

Dr Alto Clef

Another top tier dad, but swearing addition

Your godfather would literally be Jack Bright

Then it's Kondraki and Glass

He would let you swear on a daily basis and would join you

Sometimes you be looking at your Oppas/Noonas and be like: "Oh fxxk me!" and Clef, who's in the next room, be like: "Yeah, fxxk me too!" (Yes but no sis! No incest pls!)

Other times, you would be in the same room as Clef and Bright and you'd join them in being chaotic

And poor Kondraki is just there at the back trying to do his work peacefully

One time, Kondraki had to grab a Simon Glass to help stop the chaotic trio

And OML did it end so well

You were easy to manage tbh, with the exception of you swearing

Clef and Bright would most definitely encourage you to swear more

Especially Clef since he does have a twisted sense of humour

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Kondraki is totally the type of person who would tell their kid to mind their own language

But he secretly doesn't care and his child knows it

His style of parenting is similar to Simon's

And yes, Simon is your #1 godfather/uncle

You'd go to him for emotional support since Kondraki sucks at that

Sometimes you'd swear at him and he'd get mad though

So yeah, running to Glass is a wonderful idea

And we all know that Kondraki doesn't mean what he said

He's just extremely introverted, but he's rather sensible - Usually...

Anyways, he would ask Simon on tips and advice on how to get you to stop swearing so much and he just gave Benjamin a parenting book (Like fr guys, let Glass have some rest, he's tired of babysitting over 100 dozens of pets in the zoo and all the other babies who work in it)

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in-slytherin-we-trust · 4 years

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Once Upon a One Night Stand (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

-> Draco and Y/N thought they got away with it until morning comes and a small mistake gave them away.

Warning: Cursing and mature content! Read at your own discretion

This is my first attempt at smut so please don’t come at me if it’s bad 😣😅 feedbacks are much appreciated!

It started as a one time thing, an unforseen aftermath of a celebration gone utterly wrong. Y/N was feeling brave and decided to downed shots after shots of firewhiskey that Slytherin has managed to smuggle into Hogwarts for this one purpose only, an after party held at the Slytherin dormitory celebrating the end of their O.W.L. examination week.

Y/N guessed that they were feeling rather generous since they opened their door for other houses, Gryffindors included. But after the amount of stress and anxiety that they’ve all been under, a common ground and mutual understanding was formed, at least just for the night. And who is she to deny herself the pleasure of getting the full Slytherin’s legendary party experience?

And so Y/N along with the rest of the fifth year students made their descend from the Gryffindor Tower, down into the viper den in the dungeon. Slytherin promised them all the party of a lifetime and they indeed delivered. As soon as the bare stretch of stone wall opened and revealed the passage behind it, smoke invaded their noses, an unmistakable scent of marijuana mixed with cigarettes. Loud techno music blaring from down the hall.

The state of the Slytherin common room was atrocious. All the black and dark green leather sofas had been pushed back to create an empty space for a makeshift dance floor in the center, one that is already swarming with partygoers. Dancing, grinding, and bobbing their heads along to the rhytm.

So much was happening that Y/N nearly got an instant headache, each and every one of her senses overwhelmed and assaulted. Even starting to regret her decision of coming down here since she’s so out of her elements. At some point in the night, she lost sight of all her fellow housemates and that’s when she decided to just might as well get herself hammered. To take advantage of the free flow alcohol in the form of a fountain on one corner of the room. It has been enchanted so that it will never ran out.

Once the firewhiskey had settled into her system suddenly her surroundings wasn’t all that terrifying, she’s one with the crowd now. As intoxicated as they all were, if not more. She found her feet taking her to the very center of the dance floor, somewhat aware that she’s probably pulling some off beat dance moves but she couldn’t care less.

“My my.... look at you, Y/L/N. Now I can say that i’ve seen all there is to life and die with no regrets” A voice called out but it sounded like it’s coming from everywhere. It sounds familiar but she can’t put a face to it due to how out of it she was.

Y/N spun around to find the source, swaying dangerously, her balance betrayed her. But luckily solid warm hands reached out and steady her. Y/N gave the stranger a loopy grin, “Thanks... umm... who are you?”

“By Salazar, Y/L/N. How much have you had to drink? you’re blind drunk” The voice said again and is that concern that she detected in the tone?

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched in contemplation, “I don’t really remember, I could barely remember who I am” She replied sheepishly.

The stranger snorted, “I believe it definitely takes an awful lot for you to forget me”

She threw her hands up in exasperation, “Can’t you just tell me your name already? all this thinking made my head hurts, you’re making my head hurts”

He chuckled, oh yes it’s definitely a he from the tenor of his voice, “I do love to pull your strings and make your head hurts daily, but this time i’m afraid the alcohol is to blame and not me, darling”

Y/N groaned, letting go of all efforts of trying to put her scrambled mind together, “I give up, i’m too far gone for this”

She felt the man put his hand on the small of her back, guiding and parting the crowd for her. “I think that’s enough partying for you unless you want to experience a hangover that lasts for weeks”

“Yeah I think you got the right idea” Y/N muttered as the numbing effect of the alcohol dissipate, giving way for the pounding headache to take over.

She closed her eyes, putting her chin on top of his shoulder and let it rest there. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist, hanging on for dear life. Letting him continue to navigate the both of them wherever he wishes to take her which is probably a bad idea but now the line is pretty much blurred.

When the sound of the party seemed far away before disappearing completely, she peeked one of her eyes open, finding herself standing in a different room.

Ancient four posters bed with green silk hangings is the first thing she spotted. Silver lanterns hung from the ceilings. The walls are decorated with Slytherin crests and medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins.

Y/N gulped as she realized that now she’s standing inside one of the bedrooms in the boy’s dormitory. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of both hands, trying to get somewhat level-headed to assess the situation. As some sliver of consciousness creeps in, she staggered back from the person that just minutes ago she had latched herself to.

“MALFOY?!?! It’s you?” She half screamed at her silver haired nemesis.

“Geez, Y/L/N. A thank you would be nice” He replied as he rolled his eyes at her.

“And why would I do that? for all I know you could’ve taken me here to take advantage of my drunkenness!”

He faked a wounded look, “Really, Y/L/N? contrary to what you may believe in, I don’t need to take advantage of a drunk girl to find someone to sleep with”

Y/N crossed her arms in front of her chest, still skeptical about the whole thing, “Then humor me, Malfoy. Why did you decide to save me?”

“I was with Theo when I saw you all alone, dancing like a mad woman. I ought to just leave you alone but then I noticed that you’re not with any of the Gryffindorks and with the state that you’re in, you’re one step away from making a fool of yourself. Me being the gentleman that I am decided to do you a favor just this once” He answered nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal at all and this is a typical behavior from Draco Malfoy.

Silence enveloped the room for some minutes, only the sound of the Black Lake water lapping against the windows was heard. It helped calmed some of her frayed nerves despite the laughable circumstances that she founds herself in. Y/N stared at his face and found him staring back at her, waiting to see her reactions.

“I can’t believe that i’m saying this.... but thank you, Malfoy” She finally said, giving him a small smile.

Draco found himself taken aback by her smile, she never smiled at him, until now. It made him feel all weird and mushy inside.

He cleared his throat, an attempt to pull himself together. “Do you think you can make it back to your tower?”

Y/N frowned, despite the fact that she has gained some sobriety, hauling her ass back up is too big of a challenge. With her headache and unsteady balance, it’s more likely she will topple over and just let herself sleep somewhere on a random castle hallway. Just imagining about the trip that she has to make from the dungeon to the tower made white spots appeared in her mind. But clearly staying here is not an option too right?

“I.... I don’t know” She said defeatedly, shoulder slumping like she can’t believe that she got herself into this mess in the first place.

“You know what? just sleep here. This bed can fit 4 people, we can sleep side by side without having to touch each other” Draco said, and he quickly cut in when he saw her opening her mouth. “—Spare me the arguments, you and I know you’re in no condition to make your way back safely to your dorm”

Once again she founds herself loss for words, too perplexed at how the night keeps on progressing. As hard it is to admit, but Malfoy has a point and he’s doing a huge favor for her. The least that she could do is not be a bitch.

“Okay... thanks again” Y/N said with finality, assuring herself that this is for the best.

“Good, i’m not in the mood to argue. I have some spare shirts in my wardrobe that you can use to sleep in, what you’re wearing right now doesn’t exactly make a good sleepwear” Draco replied, letting his eyes trailed over the lacey material of her crimson dress. “Not that it’s not a good one” He throwed in for good measure.

Y/N raised an eyebrow his way, a taunting smirk making its way to her lips. “Was that a compliment that I just heard?”

His only reply was a “Don’t get used to it”.

———————————————————————

Y/N opened his wardrobe, greeted with the assortment of black and green clothing, of course. The materials are all soft and light, at least he has good standards. Y/N spotted a single white shirt tucked on the back, that one’s good enough for her instead of having to endure a possible torture from Malfoy if she wears his house color. She grabbed it and make her way inside his personal bathroom.

Once inside, Y/N peeled her dress off, relishing in the feeling of the cool night air hitting her skin and the marble tile under her feet. She put on Malfoy’s shirt, it’s big enough that it managed to cover her fully, the ends settling on the middle of her thigh. The scent of his cologne enveloped her, spicy and earthy. It suits him, despite their difficult relationship she always thought that Malfoy smells bloody good. And now she’s wearing one of his shirts, life is weird indeed. After making sure all is good she stepped back into the bedroom.

Finding Malfoy who has also changed into his emerald pajamas. Merlin, he looks good. Y/N had to take a few deep breaths to settle her frantic heart. Thundering in her chest with every step that she took that brought her closer to the bed. Malfoy already lounging lazily on top of it but his eyes are closed, but she can see that he’s aware of her presence.

“Are you decent?” He asked.

“Yeah I am” Y/N replied, leaning into one side of the bed. Just one hop away from laying down beside him in the seas of silk.

Draco opened his eyes and felt his stomach drop, suddenly finding it hard to breath properly. Y/N glowed in the faint moonlight that shone through the water, the too thin material teasing him, giving him glimpses of all the curves and dips underneath as she shifts from one foot to another. Biting her lips as she waited for him to invite her up. “Bloody hell, Y/L/N. Are you trying to kill me?” He murmured breathlessly, so soft that it’s almost a whisper.

Y/N, very much aware of the power that she now holds by the looks of it, smirked at him. “Can I sleep now or do you still want to stare some more?”

Not trusting his voice to remain steady, Draco just gulped and patted the empty side of the bend, beckoning her to do as she wishes. But his eyes remained, watching her, roaming all over. As if choosing to ignore the fact that Draco’s in the verge of bursting, the minx decided to crawl her way on top of the bed slowly instead of just haul herself up like a normal person should. Draco even sent a prayer for himself so that he can get through the night.

Y/N settled and make herself comfortable, patting and fluffing the pillow for show. Then she laid down with a contented sigh that sounded more like a moan at this point. He felt himself growing harder with each passing second. Gripping the silk sheets to maintain some semblance of restraint.

“You doing okay over there?” She said tauntingly, mustering an innocent look on her face as if she doesn’t enjoy this game of cat and mouse that they’re silently playing.

Draco let out an angry grunt, turning his body to the side so that she can only sees his back. Hiding his flushed face away from her sight. Oh he’s definitely not getting any sleep tonight.

“Alright then, goodnight Malfoy!” Y/N said chirpily as she pulled the blanket to cover herself.

Draco stayed silent, thinking long and hard on wether or not he should reply, but not even a few minutes after that, he found her already asleep when he glanced her way over his shoulder. But still he offered her a “Goodnight, Y/N” despite knowing that she wouldn’t even hear it.

Ten minutes, fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes passed but Draco can only toss and turn in his side of the bed. He is hot and bothered and despite how hard he tried, he cannot ignore it any longer because his problem isn’t going anywhere.

He pulled the blanket off himself, lowering his feet to the ground, and slowly walked towards the bedroom.

He has something to take care of.

———————————————————————

Y/N found herself awaken from her sleep and she too is confused as to why. Everything is in place, there’s no sign of anything that might’ve stirred her awake.

She looked to the clock across the room, it’s 2 in the morning. As she about to go back to sleep, she heard it. A faint moaning.

Y/N turned to the side and saw that Malfoy’s side of the bed is empty, she reached her hand to touch the silk. It’s not warm anymore. Meaning it’s been a while since he got out of the bed. But it’s 2 am, where could’ve he gone to?

Then she heard it again, another moan but this time louder, needier. She recognized that voice, it’s Malfoy’s. What in Godric’s name is going on?

Y/N lowered herself onto the floor and followed the source of noise that leads her straight in front of the bathroom, the door ajar like Malfoy couldn’t care less about leaving it like that.

She steeled herself before taking a peek and the view that greeted her, made her turn a bright shade of red.

Draco fucking Malfoy, sat perch on top of the bathroom cabinet. His pants and underwear pooled at his ankle. Eyes closed and heads thrown back, mouth opened into a perfect O shape. She can see trickle of sweats rolling down the side of his head. And his hand... gods his hand... is gripping his impressive length, stroking it up and down impatiently.

“Y/N....” He moaned out. Is he really moaning her name right now?

Her mouth feels dry as her eyes roamed all over him, an ache forming in her as she takes in the look of pleasure on his face. Her own panties growing damp from arousal.

“Malfoy?” She breathlessly called out, hating how timid her voice sounds.

Draco’s eyes snapped open in alarm, realizing that the object of his desire is very much awake and standing in front of him, caught him in the middle of the act.

“Fuck, Y/L/N. I’m so sorry, I thought you were asleep and I was just.... I was just” He trailed off, not knowing what to say to get himself out of the grave that he had dug.

Y/N bit her lower lips again, a force of habit really. Gods she wants him, she wants him so badly. An internal battle is going on inside her head between her logic and desire.

“Dammit woman, stop biting your lips like that, fuck you have no idea how that makes me feel” Draco said again.

And that was it, the desperation and plain need in his voice is what sent her tumbling down the point of no return. She felt her feet acting on its own, bringing herself in front of him. Even sitting down he still towered over her.

Y/N leaned in, then whispered to his ear. “Then tell me, Draco. Tell me what you feel? what do you want?”

“I want to take you over and over again until all you can remember is my name. I want to bend you over this counter and pound into you hard, then I want you to ride me, on my bed. Watch that perfect tits bounce up and down, watch that pretty pussy gets soaked and filled with my cum”

Y/N moaned as he listed all the dirty details, how much he wants her, he needs her. Suddenly even this thin close is too much, she needs to feel him. Skin to skin, all pressed up until she can no longer differs where she ends and he begins.

“Yes...” she moaned lewdly. “Yes... please, Draco”

He cupped her chin softly, angling her face so they see eye to eye. “Are you sure, darling?”

“More than anything, take me, Draco”

And that is all the confirmation that he needs before he leaned in and kiss her, taking the time to trace the curve of her mouth. Licking, biting, nibbling. Making note of what he needs to do to earn that sweet sound of hers. To hear her beg for more.

He let his fingers trailed down, from her collarbones to the valley between her breasts. He made teasing circles around it then he flick her nipples, once, twice. Watching as it rise and grow hard under his fingers.

Then he trailed lower, to where she needs him most. A sense of pride filled him when he felt how soaked she is, she’s literally dripping. “You’re so wet for me, darling” Draco murmured as he nibble on her ear. He ran a finger over her clit, keeping his stroke light and teasing. Slowly rubbing circles that sends jolt of pleasure coursing through her. “Draco, please” She whispered out much to his satisfaction.

“What do you want, darling? you have to say it or else I won’t know” He teased.

“Dammit, Draco. Just fuck me already, I want to feel your cock pounding into me” Y/N half shouted, her insides are begging for release.

Without bothering to reply, Draco maneuvered her into a bending position, and buried his cock deep into her.

“Fuck you’re so big” Y/N moaned, letting herself adjust to his size.

“And you’re so warm and tight, darling. You feel soo good around me”

As she gave him a sign to go on, Draco slowly thrust in and out, setting a pace that droves the both of them crazy. They moaned each other’s name, over and over again like a prayer.

And true to his words, Draco took her, again and again. Made her his in every way. Up against the wall, on the bed, against the window. As if they couldn’t get enough of each other.

As exhaustion finally took over, Draco pulled her into his arms, letting her head settle on his chest. She looked up at him with those mesmerizing (Y/E/C) eyes, filled with bliss and contentment. He would bet a good amount of his fortune that his eyes mirrored hers.

“Sleep my sweet villain, my darling goddess” He murmured to her as he pressed a kiss on top of her head.

And they both drifted off to a much needed rest.

———————————————————————

Y/N stayed throughout the weekend in Draco’s bedroom, but then Monday arrived and they have to go back to reality after staying for 3 days inside their bubble.

To be honest Y/N doesn’t know how to proceed with the whole thing, what would she even do when they meet each other in the hallway or worst in class? what even are they? there’s too many questions but so few answers. And the fact that the both of them woke up late doesn’t leave much room for them to iron out the details first.

First class of the day is Potions so at least they just have to make their way towards the classroom since it’s close enough to the Slytherin dorm. Draco and Y/N got ready in a hurry and they both sprinted to Snape’s class, making it in record time. Draco let her enter the class first since walking inside together is out of the question.

Y/N made her way to her table, her Potions partner, Dean Thomas is already sitting there, and he smiled when he saw her coming.

“Morning, Dean” She said to him as she set her stuffs down.

Dean was about to reply when something caught his eyes and his face turned white as a sheet. Before Y/N can ask him about it, Professor Snape has walked into the room and took his place in the front.

His eyes roamed over their faces, making sure all is accounted for, when he stopped at her. Eyebrow raised and a look of pure judgement on his face. “Miss Y/L/N...” He started.

“—Looking at your tie, should I just assume that you’ve decided to move to my house or?” Snape said, drawling out every word.

Every eyes turned her way and as she too looked down at the source of problem, she is mortified. Her tie is green, nope not her tie, it’s Draco’s tie that she’s wearing. They must’ve accidentally grabbed the wrong one when they got ready in a hurry. As if the color isn’t obvious enough, the letter D.L.M. is embroidered on the tie in silver thread, making sure that everyone knows who exactly it belongs to.

As she glanced towards Draco’s table where he sat beside Blaise Zabini, she founds Blaise chocking back on laughter and Draco’s face is as red as her Gryffindor tie.

“And you too Mr. Malfoy..” Snape continued. “Should I have a word with Professor McGonagall about you wanting to transfer house?”

Before she can hear Draco’s reply, Dean whispered to her. “Soo you and Malfoy huh?” He asked with a shit eating grin.

“Please shut up, Dean”

#draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy prompt #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter smut

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saturatedboy · 3 years

Note

How about a fluff Donna oneshot with a gn!reader who’s sicker than a dog

If you’re ok with that ofc

Donna Beneviento x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sickness and throwing up

Words: 2.6k

You couldn't believe it. You're mind just couldn't process it. Your nose was stuffy with slight snot dripping from it and your eyes were swollen red from earlier crying. Somehow you had gotten yourself so sick to the point it hurt to even talk as your throat was dryer than the Sahara Desert. You had tried earlier to get up from your bed with little effort because of the quick wash of nausea had influenced all your senses to stop. You could feel your stomach turning every now again and decided that it was probably better to lay down in your bed then go rushing to the bathroom in hopes the cartwheels that passed through your digestive system would soon come to a halt.

A sudden cough popped out of your dry mouth as you raised your hand to cover your mouth, the heat of your skin feeling far more hot and sticky than when you were at the Lord's Heisenberg's factory to gather some materials for your lover, Donna Beneviento. After your coughing fit, you had closed your eyes in hopes of rest, but the sudden noise of the door creaking open had made you whine out. "Still in bed?" The voice had teased followed by a chant of laughter. Without moving, you groaned and sighed at the doll who had now floated into your confined room and made her way to hover over your laying down form.

"Angie...please." You croaked out, waving a hand in a 'dismissive' tone for the doll to go away. Once again, the doll had strummed up more laughter from her unknown vocal cords at your terrible state.

"You should hear yourself, it sounds like you're stuffed with saw dust haha!" Angie crackled away, floating down to sit on the other pillow that was at the side of you as she still stared down at your figure. Trying to not laugh at her remark, you had hauled yourself up to cough up a storm into your arm, tears springing to your eyes from the piecing strike of pain that stuck your head. The laughter from the doll came to a stop, now a worried Angie was staring at you.

"I-I'll go get Donna!" She stammered, backing away from you and flying as swift as she could to go find her owner who was most likely brewing tea like she did in the early morning hours. You wanted to call out to her, tell that you didn't need Donna but the warm feeling of something bubbling up in your stomach came back.

Flinging the covers off your body, you had scurried to find the closest bathroom to your room that happened to be next to Donna's anyway. As you were running through the hallways, you had rounded the corner and almost bumped into the jogging figure of Donna. Seeing your face flushed red and the hurried speed of your run, Donna was quick to turn and follow your trail to the bathroom where she was met with your kneeling body leaning over the toilet seat hurling your stomach contents out. She was quick however to attend to your side after rolling her long sleeves up past her elbows. Her hair was already tied back in her usual bun with two strands falling in front of her uncovered face after four months of getting to know you better.

With your vision slightly blurred from your sweaty tears, you leaned back up and tried to grab the toilet paper from beside you to wipe your mouth with, only for the soft clasp of Donna's hand around your wrist to stop you from proceeding. "Don't wipe your mouth with that, I'll go fetch a cloth for you my love." She spoke softly being aware that your senses were higher then usual because of your sickness. You pulled your hand gently out of her grasp to clutch hold of the seat once again as you spilled more sick from your mouth.

"This couldn't get any worse," You said out-loud as you pulled yourself back away from your now mess and leaned against the wall, pulling your legs up to your chest. "Why is it so cold in here?"

"Cold? COLD? Are you mad meat on feet?" Angie screamed out, going crazy over the fact you claimed to be cold when your skin was a tinted red from the world's hottest coal. You pushed your head between your knees, trying to drown out the loud squeals of Angie going off on a rant about you being cold. It was not pleasant to hear as much as you loved to here Angie talk.

Luckily for yourself however, Donna had rushed back into the room holding a bucket by its handle. Seeing you curled up and Angie speaking in a head-splitting tone, she turned to her partner in crime and gently hushed her. Angie at first had crossed her arms till she watched as Donna went to attend your needs. "Ohhhh right, they are sick." She stated plainly as she shrugged her shoulders and went to also aid your needs.

Donna gently took hold of the side of your head and gently pulled you up to face her. Tiny stands of your hair had stuck to your forehead, making her frown slightly. Seeing you in this state wasn't good. How she ever let you get so sick in the first place was a mystery to her. You had been perfectly fine the other day, playing in the snow with Angie and the other puppets but why had you gotten so sick...- "I told you to not go back out there in the storm." Donna disciplined you as she laid your head back to rest against the wall and went to grab the cloth in the bucket. You sighed and nodded weakly, humming in agreement. You couldn't help it though, last night the snow was so fun to play in with your snow boots and cloak made by yours truly, Donna and Angie. You had to go out though last night in the storm, You just had to go make more snow angels and wanted to build the best snow fort. Not to mention you swore you saw a deer running about and had gone to chase it in the forest for a little while before making your way back home in the late hours.

Rinsing the excess water out from the cloth, Donna gently pattered your forehead with the cold water making you sigh in pleasure. The coldness of the cloth against your hot skin had calmed the banging headache that was bashing against your brain. You closed your eyes in content as you felt a small hand brush against yours. "I apologise for shouting earlier," The sudden contact made you unknowingly brush your larger fingers against the doll's hand.

"Its alright, its okay." You spoke out feeling a little more better with some cold on you. Donna had left the cloth sit on your forehead folded as she moved the bucket to the shower and went to flush the toilet. After you had laid there for just a short while, Donna had spoken up again.

"It's time we get you back to bed my little voodoo," She said, clasping her hands in front of her as she picked Angie off the floor next to you. You groaned and lifted your hand back up, wanting to clutch onto Angie. Angie jumped out of Donna's arms and rushed to your side, holding onto your hand and stroking the back of it with her small structured fingers. Donna cooed at the sight, loving the way how Angie acted with you. It did take a while for Donna to convince Angie in the first place to not play her deadly game of 'Hide and Seek' with you but just like Donna did, Angie soon fell in love with everything about you. From your sneezes that you hated to your slightly taller height than Donna- what wasn't there to love about you?

Noticing she was getting of task, as much as she loved seeing you and Angie bond, Donna crouched down to gently, with a tiny bit of a struggle, lift your body off the bathroom floor and hold you in her arms. You were slightly heavy in her arms since Donna always had a frail body but she was persistent to get you back into the bed so she could care for you till and after your sickness left. She was determined to get you back up to full health.

As she walked down the corridors with you in her arms, Angie had placed herself to rest on your chest hearing your heartbeat pump blood around your body. The doll was on the verge of falling asleep, finding safety and comfort being near you. Dona had started to hum a song to fill the silence of the air, enjoying the task of getting to look after you. You normally had always helped her, ever since the first day she had gotten the choice to keep you from Mother Miranda. Now she could finally repay those days back and look after you- she would've either way looked after you but she tended to forget that you knew she loved you. It was a reason why she mostly made you small teddies on a Friday to give to you. Each of them had a name tag that was tied around their necks always held a note from either saying ,'I love you' to 'Forever my voodoo'. It was a sweet gesture to your heart and to show your appreciation for the gifts, you had placed them all on the shelves that were set up around your room.

Donna was relieved to see the sight of your door in sight, she could finally place you down and be at your side until your sickness goes away. Walking through the opened door, she slightly gushed at the sight of her creations up on your shelves. She pulled you closer to her chest as she slowly walked around your bed and leaned down to place up upon the cotton sheets. Pulling her arms out from under your body, she quickly walked towards your wardrobe and swung the door open to take out a folded white sheet of silk to place over your now sleeping body. When she walked back over to you, she unfolded the sheet and placed it over you, tucking the sides under and folding the top of it so it sat just over your chest. Readjusting the also sleeping Angie in your arms, Donna had leaned down and placed a kiss on both of your foreheads, moving more stray hair from your face. She was glad your skin was less hot, it seemed you throwing up had gotten rid of the bad things in your stomach and should make you better for when you wake up. However for now, Donna swiftly left the room to go search for some medicine, hot tea and easy to swallow food for your awakening. She would stick to her word of making you feel better.

You came to your conscience when you felt a hand shake your shoulder. Moaning in annoyance, you opened your heavy eye lids and faced the culprit of waking you from your amazing dream of Donna, Angie an you sitting in a field having a picnic. On other terms however, when your vision was less translucent, you were blushing like you had spotted your crush- or in other words you did spot your lover. "Having a good dream?" She asked, holding a cup with something steaming out from it. You were loss for words, had you been sleep talking the whole time?

"No...no dreams just darkness." You were fast to reply, wanting to get out of the embarrassing situation quickly.

"Surrreee~" Angie sang out, teasing you as she was once again on the pillow at the side of you. You felt her shift about and felt her climb over you, only for her to nestle herself between your arms that folded under your head. You groaned playfully and kissed her head, laughing as she ducked further under the sheet that was placed over you.

"Now now Angie, I'm sure they need to have something to drink before anyone else sleeps." Donna placed the cup down on the night stand that you were facing and helped you sit up so your back was resting against the headboard of your bed and Angie was sat on your lap, singing softly to herself. Donna, once placing her had upon your forehead and checking to see how hot you were, took her hand away and grabbed hold of the cup that she originally had. Blowing on it herself, she took a little sip to make sure that the solution wasn't too hot or too cold for you to drink and then raised the cup to your lips. You tried to take the cup out of her hands but she wasn't having it. "Let me help you, please." She pleaded, raising the cup back again to rest against your lips. You nodded, knowing full well that you couldn't say no to her and parted your lips open. Feeling her pour the solution down your throat had made you blush deeply. Oh how beautiful she was in your eyes, such a Goddess- she was no Lady only a Goddess in your eyes...But she could be your Lady if she would say 'yes' to a future question you had intended to ask her in the further future.

Drinking what you could taste, which was Earl Grey tea, you sighed as you finished drinking it feeling the warmth in your now settled stomach. You felt grateful to have these people and doll in your life. These two were your home, this was your home and you loved every second of it. Watching Donna place the cup back onto the nightstand, she leaned over and kissed your cheek. You whined in annoyance. "I'm not kissing you on the lips until you are fully better," She accused as she smiled softly at your reactions.

"Then at least stay right next to me until I'm better," You claimed back, adjusting the veil on top of Angie's head getting a sudden yelp from her by your sudden actions. Sighing, Donna had nodded and tried to make her way towards a small rocking chair in the corner of the room that sat by the windowsill but was refused by your hand wrapping around her dress quickly. "Stay right next to me...on the bed." You stated, tugging at her dress with a pout. Nodding, Donna had crawled from the your side of the bed to the other, laying down next to you. You picked Angie's sleeping body up and placed her between bot you and Donna. Stretching your arm out after, you managed to reach over to wrap your arm around Donna who watched you with shining eyes.

"You still need to eat," She whispered, using her hand to place your out stretched hand onto her face so she could feel your soft touch.

"I will after our nap. I think your touch is making me feel better." You spoke, stroking her cheek and blowing a kiss at her to get the best reaction of her closing her eyes tightly and blushing. "So adorable," You whispered back to her, enjoying the moment you had with her.

"Sleep," She said back, keeping her eyes closed and keeping a tight grip of your hand on her cheek, not wanting to ever let go. You nodded and moved yourself slightly to get more comfortable. Although your sickness still lingered, you knew you were in good hands and vowed to never ever go out in a snow storm even if you thought you spotted a deer.

"Both of you sleep," Angie groaned as she yawed loudly and moved her hands to grab hold of both yours and Donna's clothing. Both you and Donna laughed in return- laughter was the best medicine after all.

#donna beneviento #angie beneviento #angie the doll #gn!reader #residentevil #resident evil donna #resident evil 8 #house beneviento #x reader #oneshot #resident evil x reader #donna x reader #donna beneviento x reader

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

Text

Migraines

Word count: 1679

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Pairings: Natasha x fem!reader, platonic avengers x fem!reader

Warnings: Some swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: hi~ was wondering if you’d do a natasha x reader with a dash of platonic avengers when reader has chronic migraines but hasn’t told nat so ends up in random places to try and sleep them away and the others keep finding her and then nat figures out she’s hiding something and feels hurt but ends fluffy wanting to take care of reader next time? you can choose who and change any part you want!

Summary: Reader gets really bad migraines and is constantly being found by the team when she wants to be alone, however her girlfriend Natasha doesn’t know what’s going on.

A/n: This request was for @casperlikej so I hope you like it! Also I would like to mention that I know next to nothing about migraines so this probably won’t be super accurate but hopefully it’s ok to read anyways. I’m queuing this to come out on Sunday so that over the weekend I can work on the friends to enemies to lovers three part series and get that out soon (no I have not forgotten about that request). I am only like a sixth into that series but so far I’m super proud of it so I can’t wait to get it done! Also if anyone has ideas, feel free to request anything because I like having multiple fic ideas to think of at all times. Anyways I’m rambling now but I hope you enjoy this fic!

You hated being away from Natasha because although you had only been together for a few months and only known her for half a year you were sure you loved her but sometimes you just couldn’t stand pretending to be okay in front of her so you would hide yourself away. Currently your favourite place to hide was a nice rocking chair near the medbay area that was tucked away in the corner of a room. Barely anyone ever went by and the few that did never seemed to notice, giving you the anonymously you needed in order to curl up with your head in your knees and try to calm your head down.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” You hear Tony’s voice ask and you startle.

“Oh, um, I’m just spending time with myself.” You respond lamely as Tony raises an eyebrow.

“You never spend time by yourself,” he points out, “whenever you want to get away from us you always spend time with Natasha.”

“I am alone sometimes.” You say starting to get annoyed.

He scoffs. “No you aren’t, is everything ok between you two?”

“Everything is fine, just leave!” You snap at him. He hesitates in leaving the room but ultimately goes without saying another word after seeing how intensely you started glaring at him. It takes longer than usual for your migraine to go away because usually staying level headed helped but at least you yelling got Tony out of the room and to stop asking questions.

---

It was only a few days later that you got another migraine. You excuse yourself from the room you were sitting in with Bruce, Tony and Nat, mumbling some bullshit about needing to go to the store and ignoring Tony’s worried look on your way out. You knew that Tony would come looking for you in your old place so you decide to hole up in the room near the pad Thor uses whenever he visits earth. Today wasn’t a very bad migraine because you were able to catch the signs early but it still takes slightly over an hour for your head to stop pounding. You’re about to leave the room and go back to find the others but just to your luck Thor happens to arrive today unscheduled, something that only happens every few weeks.

“Lady Y/l/n!” his voice booms happily as he steps inside, “it’s so good to see you, but what are you doing here, I wasn’t aware I had informed anyone of my arrival.”

You laugh slightly at his formal way of speaking and confused expression. “You didn’t, I just happened to be here because I was trying to be alone for awhile.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” He asks, looking concerned.

“Not at all,” you reassure him, “in fact I was just about to go back to the others when you arrived, shall we find them together?” He nods eagerly, holding out his arm for you to hook onto like a true gentleman.

---

The next time you try to hide away you’re talking to Steve and he isn’t getting your subtle cues that you want to leave so he just keeps talking. You think he is talking about some sort of mission but honestly you don’t know because it physically hurts your brain to pay attention. You want to yell at him so badly but you can’t bring yourself to because he isn't trying to hurt you at all and he’s too nice to be angry at.

“You agree Y/n?” You manage to make out.

“Yes.” You say, not knowing what you’re even agreeing to.

“Great, I’ll go talk to the others, see you tomorrow for the morning training!” He says before walking off. You groan out loud as soon as you can no longer see him, partly because of how much your head hurts and partly because you accidentally told Steve that morning training was a good idea. This time you just plop yourself on the nearest couch and hope nobody finds you.

---

You stumble into Bruce’s lab calling out for him. It had been over a week since your last migraine and encounter with Steve, one of the longest breaks you’ve had within recent memory but that came back to bite you in the ass when today’s was worse than ever before, even blurring your vision a little because of the pain.

Bruce stands up from behind a pile of boxes. “Y/n, what brings you here.”

“Pain meds now.” You order in a weak voice. He looks curious but doesn’t question you, heading towards a back cabinet and pulling out a bottle of pills. You immediately take two and swallow, ignoring him scolding you that you should only take one. Luckily since Bruce invented them himself it only took about five minutes for them to kick in.

“Sorry, I had a really bad headache.” You tell him which is a half truth.

He looks at you in concern. “Are you sure that was only a headache? It looked bad.”

You wave him off, heading towards the door because you didn’t want him to ask anymore questions. “I’m fine Brucie, thanks again!” He sighs and shakes his head as he watches you leave, worried but deciding it’s not his place to badger you about it.

---

Since every time you got a migraine you always ended up around one of the others you made a plan so that you could avoid everyone because you knew that one day your luck was going to end and Natasha would be the one to find you. You knew that she wouldn’t be mad at you or anything since you can’t control them but the relationship is still new and you don’t want to badger her with any of your problems.

That’s why as soon as you start to feel a migraine coming on you hoist yourself up into the vents above your (sort of) shared room with Natasha where you had left a blanket and some pillows to relax with… only to find Clint waiting for you there.

“I was wondering who had left these up there.” He says, seeming like it was a perfectly natural thing for him to be in the vents above your room. You decide not to question it, only sighing because you know that conversation would take up too many thoughts that you don’t have space for right now. You’re just so fucking done with your migraines and want them to go away.

Clint notices your sadden expression and is serious for once. “Y/n, what’s going on?”

“I get these stupid fucking migraines and it only seems to be getting worse and I don’t want anyone to think I’m weak and I want Natasha but I don’t want to bother her with my problems.” You unload, holding back tears.

“I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t know how to make you feel better,” he confesses, “however why don’t you try to take a nap in your own bed and if you really don’t want Tasha to find you I can keep her distracted.” You nod and he helps you back out of the vents, climbing down after you.

“Clint?” you say as he’s leaving the room and he turns around, “thanks.”

---

Clint makes his way to the common room where he sees Steve talking to Natasha.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” He asks with a smile, faltering when he sees Natasha looks upset. “Nat, what’s wrong?”

“I think Y/n is going to break up with me.” She says, her voice thick with emotion.

Steve frowns. “I told you not to jump to conclusions, maybe you should just talk to her.” Natasha just shakes her head, looking down and taking a deep breath, trying to regulate her emotions.

“Y/n’s going to hate me for this,” Clint says as two pairs of eyes turn to him, “but you should go to your room, I promise that she’s not planning on breaking up with you.”

Natasha noticeably brightens. “Are you sure?”

Clint nods. “I’m sure, she said not even five minutes ago that she wanted you. She’s going through some shit right now that you should talk to her about but she wouldn’t break up with you.”

“Thanks.” Natasha replies, before hurrying to your shared room, worried about you after what Clint said.

---

You curl up on the bed and let a few tears fall out and before long you are full on sobbing. You always try to stay strong and not cry but you just can’t deal with the migraines anymore. The bed shifts behind you and you sit up straight looking behind you. Natasha is climbing on to it and looking at you with a worried expression on her face.

“I thought Clint was going to keep you busy.” You say, sniffling to try to stop your tears.

“He must have lied because he told me to come here.” She responds.

“He’s an asshole.”

She gives a small laugh. “Normally yes, but he did the right thing, I want to help you with whatever is upsetting you.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this,” you tell her, “my migraines are my problem that I have to deal with.”

She moves across the bed and puts her arms around you. “No sweetheart, I’m here with you.” You start to cry again, this time while it’s slightly from the pain it’s mostly because you feel so overwhelmed with how much she supports you. She pulls you in tightly to her chest, and plants a kiss on the top of your head.

“I will always be here for you if you need something ok?” she says. “But now you need to rest.”

“But-” you start to protest before she cuts you off.

“No buts, you need sleep.” She says while shushing you. You wiggle back, trying to be as far into arms as possible before you slowly drift off, the pain of the migraine going away and all you can feel is warmth.

---

Taglist: @fayhar @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @acertainredhead (if you want to be added, comment, send an ask, or message me)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #platonic avengers x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #x reader

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onegayastronaut · 3 years

Text

The Professional Chp. 2 (Mob! Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Words: 1889

Part 1

It has been almost a year since you had first said yes to dating Wanda, and it has been one of the best years you have experienced so far. A few months into your relationship, the redhead had told you about her special abilities and how she had used them to rise in the ranks of organized crime. People were eager to label her as a villain during her time with the Avengers, even after she had helped save the world on multiple occasions. She was just fulfilling what many people thought of her anyway.

Both during and after her rise in creating a criminal empire, she seemed to have a revolving door of people she slept with. Most of the girls knew who she was and what she did and were more than willing to be of service just to be able to say that they were in the presence of the great Wanda Maximoff. The rest got as far away as they could from her as soon as they woke up and realized who they had spent the night with. You were the first person who did not run when she first got to know you. At first, she would read your mind to make sure that you weren’t with her for ulterior motives but stopped when she realized that you were actually there for her. The two of you had talked about her abilities, and she agreed to stay out of your mind unless you gave her permission to do so.

You were waiting at home for Wanda to get back and decided to turn on the TV to distract yourself from missing her too much. She was at a meeting with an arms dealer, and you knew she wouldn’t be back for a few hours. When you pulled the blanket around yourself, you could smell Wanda’s perfume which almost made you feel like she was right there with you. It made you feel safe, and you fell asleep with the TV on in the background.

-----

You were sound asleep when the sliding glass door in the back slid open. The two people stepping noiselessly inside the house knew that Wanda was not present, which meant that they could take you with minimal resistance. Their boss had told them to keep you alive for the moment, as you could be used for leverage against his biggest rival. Before you had a chance to properly wake up, one of the men had pressed a towel over your face.

Wanda came home from her meeting irritated and grumpy. That meeting had dragged on longer than necessary, and she could not wait to end the night cuddling with you. She was so glad that you had decided to move in with her, she can’t imagine ending her nights with anyone else. When she got around to the living room, she frowned. The TV was on, but you were not on the couch in front of it. Normally, you would be asleep by the time she came home, and she would use her magic to carry you to bed. When she shook the blanket, your phone dropped onto the couch. You would never go anywhere without your phone by your side, and besides, you would have heard her come in by now. The uneasy feeling in Wanda’s heart made her feel like she was about to choke, and she reached out with her mind to detect your presence.

When she did not detect your mind, she immediately picked up her phone to call the two trackers she trusted the most. Her hands were shaking so much it took her three tries to get their numbers correct on her phone. She swore quietly as the phone rang. Every second was crucial now that you were gone. The people that she dealt with were not known to treat hostages kindly, and she did not know what she would do if you were hurt.

Luckily, her trackers delivered results fairly quickly and found where you were being held. Wanda waved them off as soon as they sent her your location, as she wanted to get you herself. Nobody messes with her girl, and she did not trust anyone else to get you back safely.

Thankfully, her magic allowed her to fly over to the abandoned warehouse fairly quickly, and she landed directly across from the address that was given to her. She looked down to see how many people she would be up against and couldn’t help but snort in laughter. There were only six guards outside, and as she expanded her mind, there were a few more guards inside, including the person responsible for having you kidnapped in the first place. Wanda let out a low snarl as she detected his mind, she knew that he was dissatisfied with his remaining territory, but she did not think he would be so stupid as to kidnap you. He must have a death wish, and she would not disappoint.

Wanda lowered herself to the ground, and used her magic to take out three of the six guards that were outside. It seemed so easy to take care of the rest, only two of them were able to get shots off before her magic caused their deaths. The commotion seemed to have alerted the people inside that she was there, and the yells of the remaining goons told her that they were heading her way. She blocked the bullets coming in her direction with barely any effort, and another flick of her wrist caused the guards to fall into a coma. They wouldn’t be bothering her for a while.

As Wanda moved further into the building, she saw you tied up on a chair, and she immediately ran over to you. “(Y/N)? (Y/N), are you okay?” As she came closer, she saw that your face was bloody, and one of your eyes was swollen shut. You moaned as you started to wake up, and when you saw her, you tried to smile despite the bruises on your face. She was going to kill the man responsible, nobody gets to put their hands on her baby girl.

Just as she was about to untie you, a bullet ricocheted off one of the pipes right next to your head, and she immediately pushed you so that you were lying on your side on the floor. As she turned around, she saw the little man who had ordered your abduction. Red tendrils enveloped her hands, and her eyes turned red as she blasted the man over and over again with her magic. She didn’t stop until he could not get up anymore, and it was only then when she was able to calm down and turn to you.

What she wasn’t prepared for was to see that you were already awake and had seen what she had done. Wanda hesitated for a second, unsure of what your facial expression meant. Were you scared of her? Did you not want to be with her anymore after you saw her this way? She didn’t want to read your mind to see what you were thinking, you seemed upset enough without her invading your privacy on top of it. She approached you slowly and stopped a little bit before you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, unsure of what to say at the moment.

“Would it be okay if I take you home?”

You nodded again, and Wanda gathered you in her arms before taking off. You weren’t sure how long it was before you fell asleep with Wanda holding you.

-----

Several hours later, you managed to open your eyes to see that the sun was very well out. According to the clock that was on the counter, it was almost the evening, and you had to turn your head to see Wanda standing in the corner of the room looking at her shoes. You were used to seeing your girlfriend brooding, but you had expected her to be cuddling you in the bed that you shared, considering what had just happened. She was standing very still, so you decided that it was up to you to make the first move.

“Hey.”

Wanda’s head snapped up, and the look of fear in her eyes was not something that you were used to seeing. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, but I have a headache that feels like it can last for days.”

“I had Banner come in, and he said that you should be okay in a few days.”

“That’s good. What’s the matter? You don’t seem happy to hear that I’ll be okay soon.”

Wanda scoffed as she returned to looking at anywhere but you. “You’ll be okay, this time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means I got to you in time, this time. It means that you weren’t seriously hurt, this time. I managed to get you out alive. But what if I’m not able to do that next time someone decides to come after you?” Wanda’s voice rose until she was yelling, and stopped when a tear rolled down her cheek. “And I saw the way that you were looking at me after I took down that guy who was holding you in the warehouse. It was like you were scared of me.”

You got up despite getting lightheaded the moment you got on your feet and made your way towards Wanda. Despite Wanda withdrawing a bit when you got close to her, you wrapped your arms around her. After a moment of stiffness, you felt her relax. Her strong arms moved to hug you back, and her head rested on your shoulder. “You know I’m never going to leave you, right?”

“But the way you were –”

“No, Wanda. Look at me.” You put your hands on both sides of her face and waited until her green eyes met yours. “I love you, and I am not leaving you. I was just…surprised is all. But what I saw yesterday is not enough to make me leave. I knew who you were when we started dating, and I knew what I was getting into. You’re going to have to work a lot harder for me to not want to be with you anymore.”

“Do you mean that? Really?” Wanda’s voice was shaking as she looked at you. It was like she was trying to make sure that you would not disappear if she closed her eyes, and you gently kissed her.

“I mean that, every word.”

Wanda kissed you again, gently at first and gradually rougher as the kiss went on. It was only when both of you were out of breath that she stopped. “I don’t know what I would have done if you were…you know.”

“Good thing that nobody had to find out.” You kissed Wanda again, and this time you felt her smile into the kiss. It was then that your stomach decided to make itself known by growling loudly, causing both of you to giggle.

“Let me make you something to eat.” Wanda carried you over to the kitchen. She was not planning on letting you go for the time being. Stepping up security for you was going to be a problem for another day, right now all she wanted to do was to make you happy.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x you

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

Text

appearances pt. 1

pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x female!black!reader

warnings: language, angst, mentions of racism a bit?

word count: 2.2k

part 2

a/n: watched the first avenger and my brain almost immediately felt the need to write this down so enjoy, friends!

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my gif

Being a Black nurse in the United States in the 1940s was far from easy. Your parents had always taught you to take care of and protect yourself. As you grew up, you learned that people weren’t as black and white, no pun intended, as they had made you believe. As a near 20-year-old now, you still used their advice, but you did so with a grain of salt.

You had always felt the need to help people, which was why you had decided to become a nurse. Sure, it was hard, but you were a strong, determined woman that believed that nothing could stand in the way of your dreams.

And it was by doing exactly that that you had met the love of your life.

James Bucky Barnes.

He was an extremely handsome man. One that came to the hospital far too often to get his friend Steve checked on.

Bucky was a huge flirt, which you didn’t mind, it’s not like you spent that much time together. But after a while, you noticed that Steve always seemed to stay at the hospital slightly longer than the previous time. He always said that he wanted to stay to make sure that everything was okay or that he had a headache and he preferred to stay where it could be monitored. But somehow, Bucky always stayed right next to him.

After about three months of coming to the hospital at least four times a week, Bucky had asked you out. At first, you had thought he was fucking with you. A handsome man like him asking out a regular woman like you? Even after you said no? It had to be a trap. Or so you thought until Bucky had left to use the bathroom one time and Steve had convinced you to say yes to him. He seemed so earnest while talking about how much his friend liked you and talked about you often that you couldn’t refuse. So, you had told him yes but only if you went somewhere private and at night.

It wasn’t because Steve and Bucky didn’t mind the color of your skin that everyone else in town shared that feeling. And you didn’t need this kind of thing coming back to your parents.

And so, you had started dating. Sure, it was in secret and only Steve knew but you didn’t mind. Bucky called you a hopeless romantic, but you liked to say that your romance was like that of Romeo and Juliet.

The sneaking around was fun. At least, at first it was. But now, a year after your relationship had started, it was getting increasingly energy-consuming.

Today was your anniversary with Bucky and it just so happened that you had the day off from work. You were supposed to meet him in the park where you had your first date at sunset but until then, you didn’t have any plans.

So, when your mother asked you to go grocery shopping for her, you hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Oh, how you regretted it now.

You were currently walking back from the grocery store, bags of food in hand when you had first heard it. Bucky’s laugh, coming from near you.

You frown as you focus on it to find him. Your breath hitches and you feel tears pooling in your eyes at the scene in front of you. Bucky is leaning against a wall in a hidden alley, flashing his smile at a girl in front of him, his hand on her cheek. Even with her back to you, you could recognize her.

Dolores. Or Dot as people usually called her. She was Bucky’s longtime pursuit. Everyone thought they would end up married with a whole litter of kids. Childhood sweeathearts and all that.

Bucky looks up, spotting you, and you see his smile falter for half a second before it’s back up like nothing happened.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your tears in, as you turn around and walk faster towards your house. Luckily for you, your family lived near a large park, full of thick, tall trees that were essentially soundproof. As soon as you step foot in the park, tears are flowing freely down your face and sobs are shaking your body.

You hated that you were crying because of this. But what you hated even more was your complete inability to do anything. If you had had any kind of reaction back in town, an uproar was sure to happen. You didn’t want or need that and neither did your parents.

You let out a breath when you arrive at your house and see that nobody’s home.

You put away the groceries hurriedly before taking a hot shower. As you exit the bathroom, you see that the sun has set, making your room pitch black. You also notice that your family has made it home, hearing your father, mother and sister talking downstairs. You close your curtains and turn on your bedside lamp, not wanting a light too bright illuminating your room. You put your pyjamas on as you hear a knock at your door.

“Come in.”

Your mom opens that door and walks in, leaning against your desk before asking, “Already in your pyjamas? Did you already eat?”

You shake your head, replying, “No… I’m just not very hungry so I think I’m going to read a bit then go to sleep.”

Your mom nods slowly before answering, “Okay, good night then, honey.”

You mumble a “good night” to her as you get under your covers. You reach for the book sitting on your bed night table. You didn’t even remember the last time you had time to sit down and read.

You barely read a sentence before you hear a small noise at your window. You roll your eyes, knowing exactly who it was.

You set your book down and walk to the window, opening the curtains and sliding the window open just a smidge.

“What do you want, Bucky?”

Bucky cringes at your use of his full name. In the past year, you had only ever called him Buck or Baby, sometimes James when you were joking, but never Bucky.

Bucky smiles slightly at you, “Can I come in?”

You sigh, opening the window completely and turning around to sit on your bed. Bucky climbs into your bedroom and sits down on the edge of your window.

“So, how was your day?”

You look at him, mouth agape. Was he being serious right now?

You cross your arms across your chest and reply sarcastically, “Gee, Bucky, my day was great, thanks for asking.”

He bites his bottom lip before coming to sit down next to you. “Nothing happened with Dot. We were just talking.”

You sigh and shake your head, getting up to pace around your room. “I don’t care, Bucky. That’s not the problem. I just…” You stop in front of your closet, looking down at your feet, “I can’t do it anymore, Bucky. I can’t handle it.”

Bucky walks towards you rapidly, “No, no… Don’t say that, doll. I won’t see Dot again, I promise. I won’t talk to any other girl, only you. Just don’t say that please.”

You shake your head, looking up at Bucky.

“It doesn’t matter if you see her again or not. Or who you talk to. It just can’t work.”

Bucky stutters, trying to find the right words to say, before looking into your eyes, unshed tears in his.

“Why are you doing this to us?”

You glance at the floor before looking back into his eyes, biting your bottom lip, “Because, Bucky, it just has to be like this.”

Bucky shakes his head, “No but I won’t talk to Dot again, it’s fine.”

“God, Bucky, it’s not about-”, you start, practically screaming before Bucky puts a hand over your mouth, frowning.

“Keep your voice down!”

You rip his hand away from your face before walking back to your bed.

“It’s not about Dot, Bucky. Or anyone else. It’s about me.”

Bucky looks at you confusedly.

“We’re not going to go anywhere, Bucky. It’s not like we’re going to get married and have kids or something. It’s stupid to keep doing this when we have no future together.” You finish, throwing your hands in the air.

Bucky’s face contorts with an expression of hurt and slight anger, “You don’t see a future with me?”, he whispers.

You look up at him and despite every single cell in your body screaming at you to say yes, you shake your head at him.

You see a single tear fall from his eye before he nods his head dejectedly. He wipes it away angrily before walking back to your window. He makes his way on your roof but before jumping down to the ground, he fishes something out of his pocket. He slams a small, black box on your windowsill and says, “Happy anniversary, by the way.”

He looks at you one last time before jumping down from your roof. You feel some tears falling down your face before you walk slowly to your window. You take the box, exhaling deeply as you open it, feeling the air being sucked out of your lungs.

A modest but beautiful engagement ring sits in the center of the box, surrounded by velvet. Tears are now freely flowing down your face as you take the box and lay down in bed, staring at it for God knows how long. After feeling like no tears are left in your body, you close the box, tucking it in your bed night table drawer, before falling asleep.

The next morning, you wake up, stiff, dehydrated and with a headache. As much as you would have liked to stay in bed and cry some more, you had a shift at the hospital this morning that you absolutely could not miss.

You wearily get up from your bed, following through with your morning routine before walking to the hospital. As you look at your assignment for the day, you hear a small throat clear behind you. You whip around, seeing Steve right behind you, looking exhausted. He waves at you, muttering a “hey”.

You take him to his usual room and make him sit on the bed before getting the clipboard from the counter.

“So, what’s wrong with you today, Steve?”

“Nothing. I came to talk to you about Bucky.”

You swallow thickly before putting the clipboard back down slowly. You lean on the counter and cross your arms before nodding at Steve to continue.

“He came back home last night, sobbing. I could barely even understand anything from what he was saying except your name. What happened last night?”

You look away from Steve uncomfortably before biting your lip and answering quietly, “I broke up with him.”

Steve frowns in confusion before asking, “But why? I thought everything was going super well. Did he mess up the proposal or something?”

You feel tears rise in your eyes at the mention of Bucky’s proposal. You shake your head slowly before replying, “He didn’t make it to the proposal.”

Steve looks at you, even more confused than before.

You sigh, saying, “I broke up with him because it’s what’s best for him. He doesn’t need to be held back by me. Do you know what people would say if they saw us together, Steve?”

Steve looks at you, surprised, “Since when do you care about what people have to say about you?”

You shake your head, “Us.” Steve tilts his head in confusion.

“People wouldn’t be talking about me. They would be talking about Bucky and me. I’m protecting him. He doesn’t need to go through that kind of shit. If anything, I’m doing him a favor.”

“Why can’t you let him decide what he needs?”

“It doesn’t matter, Steve. It’s done. Bucky probably doesn’t want to see me ever again.”

“That’s not true.”

You feel the air being knocked out of you as you turn around to see Bucky in the doorframe. He looks drained, his face void of color and his eyes bloodshot.

“I love you more than anything else in the world. How could you ever say that I don’t want to see you?”

“Bucky…”

Steve gets up from the bed, walking towards the door, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As Steve is leaving, Bucky enters the room and closes the door behind him.

He stands in front of you, slightly out of reach, with his hands in his pocket.

You exhale deeply before starting, “Look, Bucky, I can’t do it. It didn’t really hit me until yesterday that we’re not going anywhere together, it can’t work.”

Bucky clenches his jaw tightly, “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true, Bucky. Do you really think that anyone is going to support us?”

“Steve does.”

You roll your eyes slightly, “Steve is literally the definition of good. He couldn’t be mean to me if he tried.” Bucky chuckles softly, knowing that you were right. His face becomes serious again before he replies, “Who cares about anyone else? There’s you and me in this relationship. No one else. So, no one else matters.”

You shake your head, “Bucky, we can’t just live with no friends and no family. What kind of life would that be?”

“It doesn’t matter because I would be with you.”

You feel your heart squeeze at Bucky’s words, “Bucky, we can’t. It has to be this way.” You look up at the clock behind him.

“I have to go, my shift started 10 minutes ago.” You walk towards Bucky, stroking his cheek. He leans into your hand before you kiss him softly. His eyes flutter shut as his hands grab your waist.

You pull away from him gently before saying, almost inaudibly,

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

hi @saiyanprincessswanie i would love it if you could read this! part 2 is coming in about a week though!🤗

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x woc #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x black reader

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 3 years

Text

Subtitles: Episode 3, Now in Color

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: Things are going well between [Y/N] and their new partners but what shenanigans will ensue as the Maximoff baby’s arrival quickly approaches and they’re pulled into the throughs of building a nursery and… child delivery?

Word count: 10,640

Warnings: Cotton candy fluff, chaos, baby. So the usual, plus babies.

Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 (It won’t tage you for some reason, I’m sorry ;-; ) @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend

~~~

You huffed and sat back on your heels, slipping a sore finger into your mouth. “Stupid bird.”

The bird in question, a pink flamingo made of plastic and wire, seemed to sneer at you from its position sticking a few inches farther out of the grass than it should be. Because of this, you could still see the main stake sticking out of the bottom of the bird’s standing foot, which, much to your distaste, made the pink plastic-feathered creature look like it was trapped on a piece of wood impaled in its foot rather than lounging on one foot in the lush green grass of your yard.

You had spent a good portion of today working on your yard and garden and waiting for a member of the household across the street to step outside and beckon you over. Dressed in overalls stained by grass and dirt, a brightly colored T-shirt, a sun hat, and working shoes, you forced yourself to keep busy by planting new flora and putting down new garden fences and decor while Vision and Wanda were tucked away indoors, preparing for a baby. You were the only one so far to know about the Maximoff bun in the oven outside of the parents and although it seemed like just last week that Wanda had gotten pregnant, the baby had finally big enough that the couple had to involve a doctor to make sure all was going well.

It also felt like not long ago that the couple had asked you out for the first time. Both of them. At the same time. It was news to you that they had felt even remotely felt the same way about you as you had about them but the rest of that conversation had gone swimmingly with you being too nervous and dumbstruck to do much more than blubber questions. The first date and then the second went a similar way, with you not being completely sure that you were on a three-person date or even awake. Luckily, your new partners were just as unnerved as you were and the three of you agreed to simply play it by ear and communicate a lot.

Some time and a few sporadic dates later and things were going smoothly. Almost every bit of free time was spent at either their place or yours; if it wasn’t free time, you were giving Vision rides to work and leaving cute messages in the files you left at his desk—you always hoped they were cute, anyway, and not annoying, only to be reassured when you got a smiley back or your favorite treat from the breakroom left with the file when it was returned—or trying to help Wanda clean or cook or take a break despite her stubborn fussing against it. Vision was the first to give you a pet name, Wanda was the first to hold you in place when you attempted to pull away from a normally quick handhold or hug, and you were the first to press kisses to both their cheeks after walking them home from dinner. Wanda fell asleep on your couch first, you on theirs second, and Vision went ahead and turned cheek pecks into lip kisses. You weren’t quite ready to initiate them yourself yet but you hadn’t been complaining when Vision caught you on your porch steps and kissed you on the mouth; the rain that had just started had either been just a bonus or his initial inspiration.

As nice as everything has been, though, you were still worried about overstepping boundaries with the married couple so when Vision invited you over to be a part of the doctor visit, you politely declined. Instead, after the doctor left, you were to head over and bring your tools to help set up the nursery; it was also your joint job with Vision, who was now a baby book reading master but also increasingly bugged out about Wanda and the baby’s health, to try and convince said woman to relax for once in her life—a task difficult enough to be on the list of Hercules’ Twelve Labors, you were convinced at this point.

For now, though, you were sitting with your feet beginning to cramp and your knees getting damp and most likely more grass-stained, glaring at the devil in pink whose foot-stake had left your finger with a prick from a splinter and whose one visible dark eye stared at you with sadistic mirth.

“Oh, you wanna go, Bernard?” you scoffed at the bird-shaped plastic, dropping your hand from your mouth and pushing yourself up into a squat. “I’ll call you out. Let’s go!” You raised your hands in a fighting stance and bounced on the balls of your feet as you prepared to strike.

The sound of a chainsaw starting up caught you off guard mid-bounce and you lost your balance but what caught your eye when you twisted around while rubbing your now-bruised tailbone was Vision walking outside his front door with an older gentleman, presumably the doctor. However, you paid very little attention to said other man as you laid in the middle of your yard, twisted into what was probably a partial yoga pose, resting your chin on your arm and making lovey-dovey eyes at the former.

Not that it was surprising at all, Vision looked very nice today. He was wearing dark blue pants and a similarly colored sweater over a collared shirt and tie, with a honey-brown jacket topping everything off; you couldn’t imagine wearing a shirt plus two outerwear items in the heat of the day but you certainly didn’t mind seeing him all dressed up. His hair was somewhere between jaw and shoulder length and wavy as ever and while you weren’t a fan of the popular 70s cut, he not only pulled it off but made it look incredibly attractive. He greeted his next-door neighbor Herb, who started up the chainsaw, then spoke animatedly, as he always did, to the doctor. Talking about keeping the baby news to themselves, no doubt.

Vision watched as the doctor walked off down the sidewalk and as he happened to pass in your direction, Vision’s gaze refocused to settle on you instead. The expression on his face changed from purely friendly to something deeper and you felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he waved over to you.

“Hello, perfectly platonic neighbor!” he hollered, to which you responded in kind after snorting and then disentangling yourself from your strange position.

No response from Herb about the odd greeting. The cul-de-sac, and in Westview in general, people didn’t seem concerned with your trio’s out-of-place shenanigans as long as it didn’t directly affect them, you had noticed over time. You could have probably walked over and planted a brazen smooch on Vision’s perfect mouth while out in the open, with other neighbors milling about, and no one would bat an eye.

But that’s exactly what we’re not going to do, you thought stubbornly as you stood and brushed yourself off. Not yet, anyway. I want to make sure they’re both comfortable with it first.

Vision seemed to grasp what your plan was because he waited for you as you gave Bernard the flamingo a fight postpone notice and then a light kick before walking across your yard and heading across the street. If you had been more rational, you would have grabbed your tools so you could have just come inside when you reached the Maximoff house but your brain, muddled with the pink mist of freshly requited affections, could only think of getting closer to the man, maybe even holding hands or nuzzling noses.

A sound that was equal parts loud and awful caught both your and Vision’s attention as you reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Looking over, you both saw Herb cutting away with his chainsaw, only now he wasn’t cutting through bushes but the stone wall separating his and Wanda and Vision’s homes. The stone blocks of the wall weren’t super heavy-duty, you supposed, but the sound made you cringe, and the sight was a little jarring. Herb didn’t seem to realize was he was doing despite the lack of hedges in his path.

“Hey Herb,” Vision yelled over the noise, “think you might’ve taken the hedge trimming a little too far there, old chum!” As he spoke, he glanced over at you and, seeing you nearby, instinctively shifted in your direction; you moved to meet him halfway and you each gave the other’s hand a quick affectionate squeeze, though both pairs of eyes were trained on Herb.

Herb, who looked up, smiled, and responded, “So I have! Thanks, buddy.” Despite saying this, he continued to cut through the bordering wall and stare glassily ahead as if none the wiser.

The expression gave you an unnerving sense of familiarity but you couldn’t quite put a name to the vague memory of a person you’d seen wearing it. Acquiring a migraine medication and forcing yourself to not look too hard into every strange thing that happened in this town helped but your headaches appeared to never quite go away. This was proven by the muted throb across one side of your head that came with looking at the bizarre scene.

“Yeah,” Vision said a little quieter, “don’t mention it.”

The action only happened briefly but when you caught him chewing his lower lip, you felt your innards tie themselves in knots and had a particularly hard time tearing your gaze away. Now that you were closer, you also noticed that the blue and brown ensemble he wore perfectly matched his hair and eyes. That hair that you always desperately wanted to brush your fingers through.

Fingers carefully slipping around your hand, like if they held you any tighter your own would break, managed to catch your attention as Vision turned to lead you inside.

“Oh,” you chirped, tugging your hand back to point a thumb over your shoulder, “I forgot my tools. Meet you in a minute?”

Vision seemed persistent to bring you inside, even going so far as to catch both your arms and doing a playful series of shimmies and sways to dance the two of you closer to the front door. Now that you were out of Herb’s frozen line of sight, the two of your found yourselves standing so close together that there wasn’t a single pocket of space between your bodies. When you inhaled, you smell cologne that wasn’t too light or too heavy and a scent that you could only describe as the heat of a warm, sunny day. Thinking as he would only smell sweat and dirt and grass if he did the same, you blushed and made a note to change before you came back over.

Whatever Vision thought about how you smelled or the clothes you wore, he didn’t seem to care enough, if at all. He took advantage of being out of sight to move his hands from your hours to your waist—a much more convincing position indeed—and nuzzled his nose to your hairline, now exposed as your hat rested farther back on your head.

“You know very well that you can use ours,” he said.

You felt his warm breath on your forehead. If you weren’t standing up and didn’t have the nagging feeling that you were getting dirt on his nice sweater, you would have been perfectly comfortable simply hugging him and dozing off in the cozy embrace right there.

Vision continued in a lilting voice and with an added shimmy that brought the two of you directly to the front door. “They’d love to see you, you know.”

They? Your brows furrowed a bit, then rolled your eyes. Oh, Wanda plus baby.

Still, you steeled your resolve and leaned away from him. He looked at you like he was a puppy that had been kicked, to which you responded with a faux scowl. “Mr. Vision Maximoff, I said I was going bring my tools, and [Y/N] is no flake. Besides,” you paused as your scowl melted into a smile, “I don’t want to get dirt and grime all over the new room. It’ll only take a minute; you act like we can’t see each other through our living room windows if we wanted to.”

Making his last attempt, Vision leaned into your arms, which were now around his own, and pressed his cheek against your temple. Still pouting, he muttered, “It only took Wanda and I going around a few times before we moved in together.”

The idea of you living under the same roof as your couple and their new baby made you giddy as much as it made you feel like you wanted to throw yourself into a lit fire pit to save yourself from embarrassment.

“Ah, yes, a spectacle to behold,” you said as you leaned away again, “A new baby and a new roommate!” You saw Vision open his mouth to speak, no doubt to respond with a quip, and quickly continued, disentangling yourself from him as you did, “Gotta skitty, I’ll be back momentarily!”

“Well,” Vision replied, dragging out the last consonant as if you were going to change your mind if he did so long enough; when you didn’t, he huffed a bit. “Alright then. Hurry back!”

You gave him a smile and two-fingered salute then bounded down the steps and back across the street. You only stopped once on the quick trip back home and that was to give Bernard another swift kick, which somehow lodged the bird the rest of the way into the ground, and a “Fuck you, Bernard!” You heard sputtering laughter from across the street that made you grin as you marched inside to change and grab your toolkit.

The tools were the easy part; they had been sitting out on the table in your dining area since last night when you’d originally suggested the idea so you were sure to not forget them. It took a bit longer to struggle your way out of your clothes, especially while simultaneously trotting to the bathroom to wash your hands and splash water on your face. It took longer still to jog back to your bedroom without slamming yourself into an end table or plant along the way and then also go through every piece of clothes you owned; when bright colors and eccentric outfits came into style, you were, for once, ahead of the fashion game with your regular closet, and your wardrobe only continued to grow as the rest of the country’s interest in the style did. You were particularly interested in peacock fashion and it showed in your array of ruffled, brightly colored, and loudly patterned shirts and blouses.

Of these blouses, you threw on one in a burnt orange and yellow paisley pattern, choosing one without ruffles in fear of ripping them while working. You paired the shirt with matching yellow walk-shorts that ended just above your knees and a pair of honey-brown clog sandals whose color made you think of Vision’s outfit. Thinking about this further, you decided to accent your ensemble with a touch of blue, wrapping your hair that was still damp with sweat back with a satin scarf that was a vibrant blue and some handmade jewelry pieces in the same color to match. Finally, you added a woven belt and, after looking in the mirror for a moment, decided to tie your blouse off an inch above the waist of your shorts instead of tucking it in before booking it back across the street.

Standing at the door of your couple’s house, you took a final glance at yourself in the reflection of one of their windows before knocking. You let yourself in after Wanda invited you with a holler through the door and you were greeted with the interesting sight of Wanda, in all her stunning, colorful, mother-to-be glory standing by the long dark-wood dining table; Vision, half-hidden behind her belly that seemed significantly larger than the last time you saw her, was taking an awkward knee while holding up a variety of fruits.

“I’m never not uniquely surprised when I walk into this house,” you said mostly to yourself and you made your way over. Reaching Wanda, you sat your bag of tools on the floor by her feet and gave her a gentle hug. “Hey, sunshine, you’re looking foxy.”

You certainly had gotten a lot more comfortable with them recently.

Wanda visibly blushed, giving you one of her signature fake irritated looks—a tilted head with tight-knit brows and tight lips that broke into a smile less than a second later—and lightly swatted your arm before carefully returning the hug. “Hey sunshine yourself. Look at you, you’re glowing! And those threads, you’re a regular Casanova.”

She made a point of eyeing your partially exposed midriff and you almost blushed—but not quite.

“Glowing,” you repeated, playfully patting your face, “I’m not even the pregnant one! Thank you, though. Some of the colors were inspired.” You took your turn eyeing her, particularly the bright red of her striped dress that was a common color in her palette, then you caught Vision’s bright blue gaze as he stood and placed a couple of fruits back in their rightful place in the basket on the table. You moved to Wanda’s other side to help him. “Why the fruit?”

“Oh, well, the doctor said it helps the mothers keep track of the baby’s progress.” Vision explained. He added another fruit to the basket’s tower, although he was giving the last one in his hand an odd look.

“What he actually said was,” Wanda added, grasping your shoulder and tugging you over two put an arm around your waist and give you mildly strained look, “it helps make things ‘simple’ for us ‘little ladies.’”

You recognized the glint in her eye and nodded understandingly. “Well that’s mildly condescending, must’ve been just groovy.”

“Out of sight,” Wanda agreed in the same tone. She then looked in Vision’s direction with raised brows; you followed her gaze and saw the man toying with the large green fruit in his hand. “Hey, honey? What’cha doin’?”

Vision met both of your equally puzzled gazes with barely contained glee. Voice tight from holding back a giggle, he raised the fruit and pointed at it. “I can’t wait… to be… a proud… papa-ya.”

Wanda looked amused at the future father’s pun and Vision grinned, clearly happy with the reaction. You actually laughed before quickly throwing up a hand to cover the titter.

“Well, that just proves it,” you said after composing yourself even though your company seemed perfectly pleased with your reaction to the joke, “you’re going to be a wonderful one. Look at you, turning into a proper one already.”

Vision went from smiling to flusteredly chewing at his lip quite quickly; he would always get easily flustered but never enough to blush. Instead, he’d twist his head a certain way and rub his neck and shoulder, maybe even avoid eye contact if he was embarrassed enough. He’d always tug his bottom lip between his teeth too, something you couldn’t help finding just a touch more endearing than the other mannerisms; at least it gave you a much more rational reason to stare at his lips for longer than generally accepted.

“You really think so?” he asked.

You scoffed as you moved to pick up your tools again. “Of course, you and Wanda will make absolutely stellar parents. The two of you are more prepared now than I’ve seen some people after they’ve already had the kids. Now,” you paused as you stood up straight and looked at your couple with a cheerful smile, “shall we head to the nursery?”

You were partially convinced that you had been invited solely to help Vision wrangle his wife. You certainly hadn’t been invited to help decorate; even pregnant, Wanda made faster work of your tools than you did. You were huffing while maneuvering a rocking chair in the room and by the time you got it settled in the corner, Wanda had already pieced together the changing stand that was to sit next to it. You turned to grab a tool to open the cans of paint only to turn back around and see all of them opened and Wanda with a brush in hand, painting away. You managed to get the crib up before she could get her hands on it but when you looked around for the yellow mattress and bumper cushions, you looked up to find Wanda already putting on the finishing touches.

Now, you were kneeling on the ground by the crib and painting a delicately rendered stork while Vision was getting to his feet after reading all the reasons Wanda should be resting instead of doing what she was doing, which was pulling a mobile of colorful plastic butterflies out of a box and shifting ever so closer to a stool so she could hang it.

“Darling,” Vision tried, shifting ever so closer to her, “you should probably sit down.”

“You really should,” you offered your help, almost half-heartedly because you already knew the outcome before she said it.

“Don’t be silly,” Wanda assured him, “all I feel is excitement, happiness, and— huhnf! Oh!”

You were on your feet and spun around to give her a wide-eyed stare before her gasp even finished, but instead of pain or worry, Wanda’s face was lit up with wonder as the hand not grasping a plate fluttered around her stomach. Vision also moved quickly, to step forward and pressed his hand on her stomach.

He breathed, “Kicking already?” and they shared an excited stare.

You stared awkwardly from the side with a paintbrush in hand, feeling more out of place you’ve ever had in your life.

Until Wanda, without missing a single beat, turned her head in your direction and grinned. “[Y/N], you have to feel this!” Then she spoke to Vision, “Oh, it’s such a strange sensation, it’s kinda fluttery!”

She was breathtaking. Then her nose scrunched up and she giggled in a way that could also be described as fluttery, and you were wondering in which states polygamy was legal and where was the best jeweler to get a ring.

Still, you were trying to refrain from overstepping boundaries.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you mumbled, shifting your weight from foot to foot and glancing around the room. You noticed the mobile she had been retrieving the last time you’d looked at her was already hung up above the crib; of course, it was.

Wanda scoffed and made a gesture at Vision, then he was walking over and coaxing you to her side with an encouraging nuzzle to your temple.

“I just don’t want—” you started.

“To overstep, we know,” Wanda finished, the giddy look on her face replaced with a scowl. “Trust me, this is probably the one and only time I’ll ask for someone to feel my stomach while everyone else in the town just does it willy-nilly and besides, you are a part of— Oh!”

Her gasp and glance over your shoulder, combined with the sound of movement behind you was enough to make you turn your head, only for Vision to catch your attention in the opposite direction.

“Another kick!” he exclaimed, just a little too loud. You thought you caught his gaze flitting over in the same direction as Wanda’s but then he was grasping your wrist and placing your hand against Wanda’s stomach. At the same time, his arm that was hovering politely around your back pressed against the naked small of your back as he pulled you closer into the little triangle of space you, Wanda, and he made; the sudden heat there made your blood boil in the best way and when his hand accidentally caught on the hem of your shorts and dipped a little lower over the fabric, you choked while sucking in a breath.

Vision’s hands flew up to the sky and he scrambled away, apologizing profusely. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hands fluttering around, could imagine his eyes doing the same, and you were vaguely aware of Wanda moving at your other side, the fabric of her sleeve brushing against yours as she waved her arm. You also heard a sound that you chalked up to being a breeze coming from the open window and rustling the drawn curtains. You, usually the final piece of the chaotic puzzle, were instead staring down and softly gasping as the sudden tap against your palm.

“I felt it,” you whispered and the chaos that was happening around you seemed to still in the same moment as Wanda and Vision settled back around you to feel themselves. You repeated the phrase, brushing your thumb across the patch of clothed skin, and the baby responded with another kick a moment later. You couldn’t help looking up at Wanda a face frozen in almost childish wonder, and state the obvious, “You’re gonna have a baby.”

Wanda nodded at you with shining eyes and a wet smile. She wrapped her free arm around her midsection and looked back down on her belly. The expression on her face radiated an intense, loving tenderness and you felt a billion non-plastic butterflies make a comfortable home in your chest.

You followed her gaze and felt your face break into a grin so wide that your cheeks started to hurt almost immediately. Your hand, along with Wanda’s own and Vision’s, created a loose but ever so protective triangular shield over the place where you had felt your first baby kick, promising to move the universe for them should it ever be required. Despite the overlapping mess of fingers, you noticed how Vision’s hand was the perfect size to envelop your own and that even with a ring on one of them, Wanda’s fingers fit perfectly in the spaces between yours.

The nervousness and insecurities that seemed to bounce around your head whenever you observed your couple, in their perfect world with their perfect dynamics, melted away in the comfortable warmth that came from your trio’s cozy huddle. This wasn’t a story about you or them separately but the three of you together and it was a wonderful one in the making.

Then, “Oh.”

Wanda looked up at her husband and echoed, “Oh.”

You looked up second, adding your own questioning “Oh?” before your gaze settled on the butterfly lightly perched on the tip of Vision’s nose. “Oh!” Watching the monarch’s delicate wings fluttering, you were surprised he hadn’t already sneezed.

“Hello, little fella,” Vision softly said. He was the first to separate your group, stepping away and leaning down a bit for your and Wanda’s better viewing. His smile was blinding for the brief moment you caught it, before tilting your head away to snicker at the way his eyes were crossing to view his insect passenger.

Wanda gently coaxed the butterfly onto her fingertip and walked over to the window to release it. That’s when you noticed a group of the bug type coalesced around the same area; the sudden visit from Mother Nature must have been what she had seen earlier.

“Oh, my,” you said, “that’s something you don’t see every day.”

The smile on Wanda’s face tightened for just a moment as her gaze jumped around the baby room, then relaxed as she maneuvered the various colorful butterflies outside. “Bringing good vibes, hopefully. They must have been enticed by the mobile; why, they even tried to free their plastic friends!”

You looked towards the crib curiously and saw that the mobile hanging above it was only a series of transparent hanging strings. Walking over, you found the butterflies that had once been attached to it scattered around the mattress. You picked a couple of them up and carefully pinched the thin material between your fingers. “Hm, strong butterflies.”

“Clearly,” Vision agreed. He walked over to the rocking chair he had been sitting and reading baby books earlier and picked up his most recent read.

Meanwhile, you began gathering up the scattered butterflies, then climbed up the nearby stool to retrieve the rest of the mobile. “You wouldn’t happen to have a good adhesive laying around, would you? I can have this fixed up and rehung lickity-split.”

“Not laying around but I’m sure there’s one in the cabinet under the sink.” Vision seemed to find the page he was looking for. He glanced over the words, tensed up immediately after, and paced over to Wanda’s side as she shut the window. “If that was first kick, that puts you at about six months! Why I can’t keep up!”

Has it been that long already? You silently wondered as you made your way over to the exit, careful not to crush any of the delicate pieces you were holding. While Vision was thinking in terms of babies, you were surprised that you had already been dating him and his wife for almost half of a year.

In a signature dad-to-be fashion, Vision waggled his head down to give Wanda and the baby a kiss. Then he said in an equally identifiable dad’s voice, “Please don’t misinterpret. I can’t wait you meet you, little Billy!”

You leaned against the doorframe as you offered Wanda an amused look; you had been previously graced with the conversation of baby names and Billy wasn’t exactly on her roster.

“Billy?” she questioned, to which Vision gave a smile and an affirming noise. Wanda continued, “Well I was thinking Tommy. Just a nice, classic American name.”

Vision gave an exaggerated, head tilting nod that suggested a mild disagreement. Then the higher-pitched tone he took when he replied confirmed it. “Hm, Tommy! Hm, mm… then there’s Billy, isn’t there? Named after William Shakespeare, all the world’s a stage, all the men and women many players!”

Wanda went to speak but you beat her to it. “You’re sure it’s a boy, then?”

Your partner seemed mildly embarrassed as she turned her attention to you. “Strong intuition?”

You offered casually, not thinking about your lack of say in the matter, “What about Victor? Vin? Little Vinny’s certainly a cute nickname.” Almost immediately after you finished, it was your turn to be the embarrassed one. You stumbled over your words a bit as you started to apologize, only to falter when you saw both Vision and Wanda’s gleeful stares.

“Well, those are wonderful names too,” Wanda assured you, clearly pleased you had chimed in, “but I’m not hoping for quadruplets. I guess we’ll need the next best thing— A girl.”

Your shoulders relaxed from their hunched places that you hadn’t noticed they took. You chuckled and strolled out the door, throwing a couple more ideas over your shoulder, “Vivian! Virginia! Nadia!”

Vision’s voice floated after you as you walked to the kitchen. “Ooh, Vivian’s quite good…”

When you returned to the bedroom with good-as-new mobile in hand, only final touches needed to be added to the nursery, and Wanda and Vision’s excitement over the baby’s coming was suddenly amped up to eleven. The two were pacing around and frantically listing off the all things that they had left to do or buy. It was a very drastic change from the casual playfulness that you had experienced between them earlier, as the new parents were keeping themselves—and you—busy with a thousand new tasks. Eventually, Vision had a list about as long as he was tall of every bottle, diaper, blanky, binky, children’s book, and stuffed animal that they had yet to get.

Deciding you were now the more sane member of the group, you decided to take the list and go shopping for them; if you didn’t, Vision may have been swept up in the baby section of a clothing store and never return. That’s how you ended up where you were now, at the front of an ever-growing line of department store customers, waiting anxiously as the workers tried to get the lights back on and the cash register back in working order.

You rapped your fingernails on the countertop—not intentionally, just out of worry about how your parents-to-be were managing at home—and glanced from your bloated shopping cart to the cashier, who was talking quietly with a manager then back several times. You were antsy about being stuck in a store when you were much useful elsewhere and being concerned about whether you were making the cashier uncomfortable with your mannerisms, for they were probably three times as unsettled as you were, wasn’t doing anything but adding on to the stress.

Finally, the cashier turned back to you and the rest of the shoppers and announced, “Good news, everybody! The register is still down but it’s a quick switch to manual; we’ll have each and every one of you checked out and on your ways home soon!”

A cheer erupted around you but you were too frazzled to join in.

“Unfortunately,” the cashier continued as the noise died down, “we’re not the only store experiencing this. It’s the whole town.”

While the crowd’s disappointed “Aww” only appeared mildly disgruntled, you went rigid and your mind began racing, all thoughts revolving around a particular household.

One random thought of wondering What if Wanda went into labor right now? had the hair on your arms sticking straight up.

You slammed your hand down on the counter, spooking both the cashier and yourself.

“Ma’am,” you started, then paused to quickly apologize for your rudeness before continuing, “I need you to check me out as fast as humanly possible; I think my—” Wife seemed way out of line but girlfriend felt too out of place. “—pah-art-ner’s having a baby.”

You were struggling to your car with a small mountain of baby items in the arms in a matter of minutes, mentally kicking yourself for being bad at talking the entire way there. You threw your bags in the back, scrambled into the driver’s seat, and were getting ready to pull away from the curb when a ringing from your mobile phone sounded.

“Goddammit,” you huffed. One hand was pulling up an antenna and pressing the technological brick to your ear while the other gripped your steering wheel so hard that your knuckles turned three skin tones lighter. “Yeah, hello?”

“[Y/N]?” Agnes’s voice was a welcome surprise but her worried tone wasn’t.

“No, it’s your husband, I’m on my way home now, dear,” you snarked, then mentally kicked yourself again. “Sorry, that was rude, I’m in a rush. What’s crackin’? Besides the town going into blackout, that is.”

“The neighborhood’s flooded,” Agnes said simply.

You blanched. “I’m sorry?”

“The cul-de-sac? Something’s happened and all the pipes have burst. Mine, Herb’s, Dotty’s, everyone’s!”

How on earth the day’s mood has changed so quickly, you had no idea. What you did know is that you desperately had to get back to Wanda’s side, your house be damned.

“Thanks, ‘Nes, good to know,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You rested your phone between your ear and shoulder as you put both hands on the wheel and started driving.

“Do you want me to do anything?” Agnes asked; her voice sounded as frazzled as you and the rest of Westview looked. “Go over to your place, grab anything important?”

You huffed out a sigh as your car flew around a corner. “Agnes, you know I adore you, but I really, really have to go.”

“[Y/N]—”

You hung up and tossed the shoe-sized device in the passenger’s seat.

Vision met you on the curb as you were parking your car and he had the doctor from earlier that day in tow, now dressed in vacationing attire and very seeming very underprepared. Within a few words and as if you had accidentally wished it into existence back at the department store, you were informed that Wanda was in fact about to have little Billy or Tommy or who-have-you. Of course, this messy day would come to a peak in such a way.

The taller man was half-escorting, half-hauling both you and the doctor to the door, and the bags in the backseat of your car were completely forgotten as concern chewed away at your insides. Loud, strained sounds coming from inside only added onto it.

As the three of you reached the front door, Vision flung it open and pressed the doctor inside. Then he grabbed your wrist and began tugging you in after himself.

You couldn’t help your feet freezing to the concrete. “Vis, are you sure?”

The distress on his face softened just slightly and he pressed the back of your hand to his lips. “Of course we are.” Then he wrapped an arm around you and properly, albeit quickly, brought you into his and Wanda’s home—

—where Wanda was laying on the floor, panting and shimmering with sweat and holding a baby wrapped in a blue and white dishtowel while Geraldine perched awkwardly over her.

You and Vision shared a bug-eyed look before Vision’s turned into one of sadness. You wanted so badly to hug him and tell him it was alright but he was already releasing you and slowly walking over; you trailed a couple of steps after him.

“Oh no,” he murmured, “I missed it?” However, when he took a look at Wanda’s softly smiling face and their happily cooing baby, whatever brief grief he was experiencing was replaced by a proud smile and new fatherly glow.

“Hey, doc,” Geraldine spoke suddenly, “why don’t you help me out in the kitchen there?” She nodded in your direction as well.

You wondered why she was there, in Wanda’s home or Westview, at all. The idea made your stomach flip but you just couldn’t place why.

The only response the doctor gave was blubbering about speeding as she took his arm and led him away. You began to follow when Vision stopped you with a gentle tug on your arm.

“No, [Y/N],” he said, “it’s alright. Stay and come see.”

You didn’t even think as you smiled and took his hand. You took a glance towards the kitchen to make sure the other company was occupied, then kissed the back of his hand as he had done only a moment earlier. Squeezing it and letting it drop, you responded, “Go say hello to your baby. I’ll always be here.”

Given the current situation, Vision wasn’t up for arguing much. He gave you a quick peck on the temple before gingerly making his way over to where Wanda rested happily on the living room floor.

You made your way to the kitchen, where you slumped against the kitchen counter as exhaustion overtook you. You were close enough to both parties to hear Geraldine’s blatant attempts at distracting the doctor to your left and Vision and Wanda’s cozy rumblings to your right, but too out of sorts to make out anything tangible. You didn’t realize until now how badly your feet ached from the combination of gardening, decorating, and running around and how your outfit had lost its cute playfulness in place of wrinkles and feeling slightly damp from sweat. You were sure you were looking more worse for wear than Wanda, despite Wanda having had a baby, but when you thought about it for more than a second or two, you felt like you wouldn’t trade the day for any other in the world.

Especially when thinking about that cutie patootie, you thought with a tired smile. He’s gonna have such good parents. Such a good life.

Suddenly, your train of thought was stopped by the sound of Wanda yelling and your whole body jerked in her direction, energetic as ever.

Wanda was going into labor a second time, you could see easily see. Something somehow more surprising was going on in the living area, though, and that something was Vision’s skin. While he still wore his regular clothes, that was the only normal thing about him. Instead of light skin, his flesh was a deep red and you weren’t even sure it could be called skin; it looked more… mechanical than that, with symmetrical lines etched into some places and silver plating covering others. Instead of a full head of wavy hair, he had none, and his ears and parts of his bald skull were also covered in silver. Silver came to a peak at the top of his forehead and at the end of it was a golden gem.

Vision was holding his baby and yelling along with Wanda as she began pushing a second time. He happened to glance up and catch your bewildered eye and then he started yelling because of you.

You stood frozen in place, not sure what to do until you heard a commotion behind you.

“Well, what’s going on now?” Geraldine started.

Your brain kicked back into full gear and thinking quickly and somewhat stupidly, you yelled and pointed in the opposite direction, “Jeepers creepers, is that a stork?” You couldn’t imagine why your poor attempt at a distraction worked but you considered it a success as Geraldine and the still-disoriented doctor’s attention settled elsewhere. Not missing a beat, you grabbed another cloth from the kitchen and raced to Wanda and Vision’s aid, skidding to a halt on your knees.

“[Y/N],” Vision said, though nothing else followed. He stared at you in pure shock, mouth flapping and the bright blue irises of his eyes twisting and shifting like a camera lens as he looked at you. Still, his body worked despite his befuddled mind as he took the cloth you handed him and offered you a newborn baby to hold instead.

“[Y/N],” Wanda gasped through her current endeavor. When you dragged your head to look at her, she was staring at you with a clenched jaw and equally wide eyes, which were filled with a mixture of surprise, horror, and… relief? Then she was screaming and pushing again, eyes squeezed shut, and her hand flew to your own.

You grabbed it and held on tight, even when her fingernails dug in enough to leave marks for days. While a red and silver-skinned Vision handled the delivery like a champ—a bugged out, stammering, robotic champ who couldn’t figure out whether he should be looking at you, his wife, or the baby he was helping into the world but a champ nonetheless—you switched between offering encouraging words to the tiring new mother and cooing calmly at the newborn swaddled and resting cozily in the crook of your arm. Soon enough, Wanda was slumping back into the pillow behind her head and Vision was sitting back on his haunches with another quiet baby snuggled against his chest; your taut muscles sagged and the exhaustion you hit in the kitchen came rushing back.

You made sure Wanda was lucid enough to take her baby back and carefully transferred from your arms to hers. It was only after he was safely in his mother’s grasp that you were able to fully relax, tossing an arm around Vision’s shoulders and leaning heavily against him while you shook out your other hand, which was red and covered in deep, crescent moon-shaped marks.

“So,” you puffed, “Billy and Tommy?”

Wanda’s tired face lit up as she nodded her head towards her baby. “Tommy.”

Vision, who was leaning on you as much as you were on him—something in the back of your head noted that the two of you held each other very well and that something sent a little pang of affection straight to your pounding heart—used his turn to nuzzle the forehead of the baby he held and grumble in a half British, half baby-talk accent, “Billy.”

You hummed while stretching a hand down to give Billy a very ginger boop on the nose; he didn’t seem to mind. Then you said, “Vinny and Vivian will just have to be next time.”

Your group shuddered with a mess of tired, soft laughter. Then you began to relax further but as the excitement of childbirth began to wear off, you a new variation of tension settling into your couple. The new parents were sharing increasingly worried looks and if they were communicating telepathically, and it was then that you remembered that the man sitting next to you was for less human than you’d previously made him out to be.

The realization seemed to hit him at almost the same time because his head swung to look at you just as you had turned to observe his new appearance. On his robotic face—was robotic even the word; was he a robot?—was an expression of outright fear but also something that looked like he was mentally being torn in two different directions. He went to speak several times—his mouth and teeth looked the same, perfect and familiar—only to verbally scramble and backtrack, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders since his hands were too occupied to scratch his neck. Finally, he appeared to get himself in order and he started, “[Y/N], I can— we can explain—”

You ran your hand over his scalp and down to rest at the base of his neck; the silver plating felt like metal, while the thick red epidermis was warm and softer to the touch. Not only warm but damp from exertion, and pulsing softly to some form of a heartbeat where you ran a finger over a common pulse point.

While your mental energy was rapidly declining, you still managed to quip at the man, “As much as loved the idea of running my fingers through your hair, I think I prefer this over that awful cut that’s in style right now.”

That left Vision dumbfounded and silent, his mouth flopping open and closed like a fish out of water. On your other side, who had been otherwise quiet and already snoozing as far as you were concerned, broke into a burst of loud laughter that was music to your ears.

You grinned in response but your muscles were too tired to make it reach your eyes. You shifted over slightly to be closer to Wanda now and brushed your thumb over little Tommy’s cheek before resting doing a similar action to his mother’s. Wanda relaxed her head against your palm and the way she looked up at you from under her lashes made you do mental gymnastics about the ethics of blurting out the L-word then and there.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last much longer because then Geraldine’s voice floated over from the kitchen, getting louder as she and the doctor made their way back from the wild stork chase you sent them on. You quickly looked to Vision, only to see him looking as human as the day you first met him, and noted the sad little string you got from seeing simple blue irises instead of the intricately shifting blue ones that swirled mechanically as he focused on something. It only lasted a moment, though, before you and your trio were busy readjusting yourselves into what you considered normal poses but in reality, probably made the three of you look much more awkward than you previously had.

You’d just finished settling as Geraldine and her companion walked into the living room and, thinking tiredly and definitely stupidly, you blurted, “Jeepers creepers, another baby!”

“Twenty fingers and twenty toes, you’ve got two healthy baby boys on your hands.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Wanda responded as the man handed Billy back to her. Vision stood watchfully next to her, holding Tommy.

You poked your head up from behind the second crib you were finishing assembling and as the doctor turned to thank Geraldine for her delivery help, you said to the Maximoff couple, “And a second crib all ready to go. If they’re not fans of sleeping separately, let me know and we can exchange the ones you have for one big one.”

Wanda held out her hand to you as you stood and you walked over to hold it only briefly as she thanked you before leaning over and crooning at Billy and Tommy in turn. You were in the company of others, after all, and there had been enough excitement for one day without revealing your polyamorous relationship to a neighbor and a random doctor.

It was weird how different the energy felt standing with them now than it had earlier just that day alone. Things still felt new and strange but you no longer felt like a separate unit from the household you were standing in or the people standing and smiling oh so sweetly at you. Then again, maybe that’s just what being involved in the arrival of an unexpected set of twins and making a superhuman discovery about one of your partners did to all blossoming romantic triads in the seventies.

Speaking of the doctor, as he began to finish up chatting with Geraldine, Vision beckoned you closer, and after getting an okay to do so, he carefully laid the baby he held in your arms. He gave Tommy a nuzzle and a light tap on the nose, then straightened up and headed towards the door.

He said to the other man, “Allow me to walk you out, doctor.”

“Oh, alright,” the doctor responded with an odd quiver in his voice. Said quiver was confirmed to be restlessness, which you had no doubt was attached to some sort of superhuman business Vision had involved him in when picking him up, when he continued, “As long as we actually walk this time?”

You would definitely have to delve into the mystery of Vision’s sometimes inhuman appearance at a later date but at that moment you were remembering how the entire neighborhood’s pipes had burst. The neighborhood of which your house was a part of and an event you were sure you hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid.

“Oh, shi—oot,” you stammered, “I should probably get back to my own pad and save what I can from getting water damage. I haven’t even been home to see how bad everything is.” You provided Tommy with a very important explanation in very serious baby babble terms before placing him in his crib. “I’ll just leave my car on this side of the street and bring the other stuff in sometime later this evening if that’s alright with you, Wanda?”

When you looked at her, she was giving you a confused head tilt. She blinked, then her eyes shot wide open. “Oh, the pipes!” She paused and turned her gaze to the far wall of the living room as if she could see your house through it, then looked back at you with a smile. “Your house should be fine. In fact, I think the entire neighborhood is back intact!”

Something about the way she looked at you assured you that she was right. You wondered whether Vision wasn’t the only one with a unique secret under this roof and if all the strange happenings that had gone on today couldn’t be traced back to Wanda herself.

Not that any of that really mattered in the grand scheme of things.

“I should still go,” you insisted, “You should really rest for a while, and I am a mess for the second time today. Maybe I can pop back over in a little bit?”

Wanda pursed her lips in a subtle doubt before giving in. She nodded and after taking a glance around to make sure the company was occupied, she grasped your hand and leaned in closer. “Come over for dinner tonight. Stay and help us get the babies settled in? We can talk about today.”

“Wanda, you need rest—”

The woman interrupted, a teasing look making her eyes glitter. “Which is why either you or Vision will be doing the cooking! And you know how much I love the man but there’s a reason the only thing he handles in the kitchen is water from the faucet.”

You had to nod in somber agreement at that statement, then sighed and gave Wanda a pout of your own. “Fine. Now, is anyone looking?”

Wanda was smiling triumphantly. She took another quick look around, then shook her head; her silky hair fanned out slightly from its position perfectly framing her head as she did.

You shuffled a little closer and slipped an arm around her waist in an intimate hug. Leaning in, you gave her one quick smooch on the cheek and another on the forehead then mumbled against her skin, “You did amazing.” Another kiss. “And you’re going to be a wonderful mother. Please, though, promise me that you’ll rest, at least for a little bit. The world will not crumble around you if you take one break.”

Wanda, who had immediately leaned into your embrace and giggled as you kissed her, scoffed slightly. She gave you a tight squeeze and murmured back, “I suppose you’re right. Fine, but only because you promised to cook.”

“Well, technically,” you said as you broke away from her, “I only said I’d come over. I can’t wait for Vision to make us burnt water and boiled bacon!”

Wanda stared after you, frozen in a mock gasp. “[Y/N]!”

You grinned and waved before spinning on your heels and trotting over to where Vision was perched, holding the door. “Bye!”

When you got to the door, Vision’s hand played lightly down your back as he followed you outside after the doctor.

“Well, Dr. Nielson,” Vision said, “I hope you’re still able to make your trip.”

The doctor, apparently Dr. Nielson, slowed as he stepped off the porch and onto the sidewalk. He turned towards Vision with a glassy look in his eye that he hadn’t had before but you’ve been seeing more and more often in Westview residents these days. When he talked, his speech became slower as well.

“Ah, yes, about my trip,” he drawled, “I don’t think we’ll get away after all. Small towns, you know. So hard to… escape.”

You frowned, suddenly uneasy. Glancing at Vision, the man just looked confused.

Dr. Nielson’s glassy gaze shifted from Vision to you. He spoke deliberately to you, “Don’t you think, [Y/N]?” Then he blinked, turned, and walked off down the sidewalk.

You weren’t sure exactly why, but you flinched and reeled back. You would have tripped and fallen up the porch if it weren’t for Vision catching you. Then the two of you stood gripping each other and staring as the doctor disappeared around the corner.

You didn’t even realize that your ears had started ringing until the sound began to fade. You started, “Well, that was…”

“Yeah,” Vision said with a slow nod. “Very. Are you alright?”

“Fine, I think.”

“No migraines?”

“No migraines.”

The two of you stood holding each other for a moment longer before you forced your fingers to loosen their death grip on Vision’s jacket. As the two of you relaxed slightly and readjusted yourselves, several questions rushed through your head, like why was that so unnerving and why did the doctor speak directly to you.

How had he known your name?

A particularly sharp pain made your vision swim temporarily but it was gone as soon as it came. Before you think any further on the subject, other voices floated into your range of hearing.

“What is she doing in there?”

“I don’t know.”

You followed the voices with your eyes and found Agnes and Herb talking quietly by the wall Herb had been cutting into earlier; actually, Herb looked like he’d barely moved an inch, still standing in the gap between his wall of shrubs. At least he appeared more lucid, but now he and Agnes were huddled together like they were having a secret meeting. Neither of them noticed you yet.

Vision decided to change that by throwing up a hand and hollering, “Howdy neighbors!”

Agnes spun around so quickly you were wonder if she’d given herself whiplash, but the strained greetings and even more strained expressions that both she and Herb gave were what really piqued your interest.

Well, not so much piqued your interest than their actions gave you a second dose of uneasiness that made your head spin and filled you with a sense of somewhat morbid curiosity.

Then they stuck their heads back together and continued muttering.

“Did you see her go inside?” Agnes questioned.

Herb responded, “She went right in.”

Vision leaned his head closer to yours; he didn’t seem to catch what they were saying. “Do they seem… a little off to you?”

“Just a tad.”

You silently deliberated with each other before casually strolling over.

“Remarkable day we’re having, no?” Vision tried again.

Agnes and Herb looked up again, also trying to look casual but there was something definitely worrisome about their equally strained smiles.

Vision continued, “Did you lose power too?”

You snapped your fingers, joining in. “That’s right! Agnes, you called me about the pipes bursting. I hope nothing got too damaged?”

“Oh, sure did,” Agnes said to Vision, “but Ralph looks better in the dark, so I’m not complaining. And you’re right, I did, [Y/N]! Luckily, everything’s just fine.”

There was an awkward pause and even though you were out in open air, you felt like you were struggling to breathe in a sauna.

Vision said, “Hi, Herb.”

Herb responded, “Heya, buddy.”

More awkward silence.

“Well,” Vision said slowly, lightly clapping his hands together, “I’ll get back to Wanda. [Y/N], you’re heading home?”

“Right,” you affirmed, a little too quickly.

What is going on?

Vision placing his hand on your back brought back some sense of normalcy as he began escorting you to the curb.

“Vision,” Agnes abruptly said halting your exit. You and your partner turned back to her and Herb and she continued after a long-winded pause and adjusting her awkward stance leaning against the low wall, “Is Geraldine inside with Wanda?”

“Yes. Why?”

Herb piped up, “She’s new to town. Brand new.”

Wait, that’s not right. Your brows furrowed and you felt the sting of your own bite as you chewed your bottom lip. You felt pressure in your skull as you tried to recall where you’d previously met the woman, because you knew you had, but trying to do so had a similar feeling to trying to grip water as it rushed through your fingers.

Agnes went on, “There’s no family. No husband.”

You would have scowled, said something in defense of your circumstances of moving to Westview without a family or marriage, but you were too busy trying to clear away the fog that quickly encroaching your headspace. Vision, on the other hand, was able to say something, “Well there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Agnes hummed, gave a half-hearted nod, then steadily met his gaze. “No home.”

Come to think of it, you knew very little about Geraldine. While you were positive that you’d met her before today, you couldn’t for the life of you place what she did for work, when she first appeared in Westview, what house in the cul-de-sac she lived in—

You could list off the names of everyone who lived in your neighborhood. Geraldine wasn’t one of them.

Your brain felt like it could expand and explode from the intense pressure at any moment but the dread pooling in the pit of your stomach from the idea of not being able to retrieve memories bothered you far more. You couldn’t bring yourself to push the thoughts away and instead mentally leaned into the pain. The harder you pushed, the more pressure pushed back, as if you were fighting against an invisible barrier that was barring you from your own memories.

At the same time, you attempted to keep yourself grounded by staying tuned into the conversation at hand. Vision asked Agnes what she meant by Geraldine having no home and Herb kept stumbling over the same beginning of a sentence—She came here because… She came here because… She came here because we’re all…—like he was a record on a broken player that just wouldn’t let him get out what he wanted to say.

Vision tried to urge him on. “She came here because what? What are trying to tell me?”

With Agnes and Herb bickering briefly about whether or not to tell Vision whatever it was they had been speaking about, Vision completely tuned into them, and you fighting to remember things without succumbing to your migraines, you had an underlying feeling of being out of place. You’ve felt out of place before, of course, but this was something different and weird and wrong. Your entire perfect—but not so much, you were gradually learning—little town suddenly seemed like it was out of place in its state, its country, its world, its reality. Out of nowhere, Westview felt like it was trapped in a claustrophobic little bubble that wouldn’t let anyone escape and the longer anyone was here, the warped things would become—

A memory came rushing back of a black and white talent show and a smashed mirror and an arm oozing blood and color and Geraldine was there but she was an eerie Geraldine, out of place and time and reality and asking if you knew who she was or who you were and you didn’t know the answer and then Wanda and Vision appeared and everything was okay again, and now the name Monica throbbed against the base of your neck and the air around you radiated electricity and it was itchy and no one around you was noticing anything and instead of darkness, a weird bright light was tinging the edges of your vision white and—

There was a crash coming from the house and none of the people standing next to you were any the wiser but even though you felt like you were swimming through honey while doing it, you turned just in time to see a portion of a nearby wall explode as something shot out from inside and continued flying until it disappeared into the distance. Then there was a sound similar to a sonic boom that followed and a wave of nausea crashed over you as the electric air rippled and distorted right before your eyes, and then you could see the dome of TV static-looking energy that encapsulated your town and the dome seemed to peak directly above the Maximoff house.

Your ears rang. Your mouth flapped open closed but you couldn’t force a single word out. You looked around and everyone else in your group seemed trapped in a strained conversation that they couldn’t escape from if they wanted to.

You didn’t so much walk as you floated over to the gaping hole in the side of your couple’s house, or at least, that’s what it felt like as the ground grew soft and wobbly under your feet and you swayed as you moved. You reached the hole and peered through it, then waved aimlessly when you saw Wanda staring wide-eyed at you from a couple of demolished rooms away. She said or mouthed something—she’s sorry? Why?—but you couldn’t tell which it was over the thrumming of your own pulse in your ears. You cocked your head, more out of curiosity than confusion, then blinked and stared glassy-eyed as the hole in the house reversed itself.

“Huh,” you said dumbly as the last brick fell back into place. “Cool.”

Then your body felt as if it were slammed back onto very hard, solid ground and that’s because it was. You weren’t sure if you whined or groaned or screamed as you collapsed to the ground, succumbing to your worst migraine yet.

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cacoetheswriting · 3 years

Text

champagne problems, ch.5

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Five: Baby: Weird dreams, confrontations, and a yearning moment between two friends. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: cursing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, this chapter is extra ✨tense✨, this series is a real slow burn babyyy

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A/N: you guys are incredible!!!! i am feeling the love, and honestly it is leaving me speechless!! i am so glad you are enjoying this little story omg!! let me know, message me or comment, if you have any theories as to what will happen next, i’d love to hear it!! anyway, hope you like chapter 5 ✨ also, as promised here is the playlist for this story!! happy listening!

His kiss was gentle at first. Holding your face, one hand cupping each cheek, he pulled you in as close as humanly possible. He was taking his time, revelling in the thrill that was cascading through him. The warmth of his body radiated against yours.

Lips locked with yours, his hands travelled slowly from your face. They moved down your neck and arms until they reached your waist. His fingers dug into your sides briefly causing your lips to part at the shocking sensation. His tongue accepted the invitation and eagerly slid into your mouth.

You trailed your fingers down his back, feeling along his flexed muscles. Your heads rotated to vary pressure as your tongues danced together.

An overwhelming desire rushed through you. Your legs were like jelly. You melted into him, and he willingly held you up with the arm he had wrapped around your waist.

Gradually, after what felt like a blissful eternity, the two of you pulled apart. Both your breaths shaky. With your eyes still closed, you pressed your forehead to his and placed the palms of your hands on his chest; feeling his heart racing.

You looked up slowly to meet the hungry hazel gaze of your partner.

With a sharp gasp your eyes darted open. You sat up briskly in your bed, one hand on your chest while the other covered your parted mouth. Fuck. Oh no. No, no, no. That did not just happen.

You tried to shake the weird feeling away but every time you closed your eyes, to try and steady your breathing, you were met by that hazel gaze. His gaze. A lump formed in your throat. Fuck.

Ethan stirred in bed beside you.

“Mhmm babe...” He yawned, grabbing your attention. “Is everything okay?” You let out an inaudible sigh before lying back down beside him.

“I’m okay. Go back to sleep.” You replied quietly. “It was just a dream.”

You felt him nod next to you. He kissed your shoulder, and turned to his other side quickly dozing back off.

You however lay sleepless the rest of the night. Every time you closed your eyes, your mind replayed the the kiss on loop. Even though it really was just a dream, it felt so realistic. It was as if you were really kissing him, as if you were really looking into his eyes.

Fuck.

You just had a dream about kissing Spencer. The emotions it stirred inside of you were dangerous to say the least. What the hell did this mean? And more importantly, how the hell are you going to be able to act normally around him now?

The jet landed with a thud. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you tilted your head to look out onto the grey tarmac.

Emily called early hours of the morning advising that there was a new case. As selfish as it may be, you were quite glad because it meant you could avoid Spencer for just a little longer. Which of course worked until you got on the plane.

The brunette doctor sat across from you; as usual. He watched you closely and it didn't take him long to realise that something was on your mind.

“You okay?” His voice soothing. The warm and comforting sound made it impossible for you not to turn to look at him. A half-smile circled your lips. “All good doctor.” You replied calmly. “Just didn't sleep well.”

He placed his elbows on the table that separated you and smiled. “I thought we were past this whole lying to each other thing.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment. Sitting up in your seat, you straightened your shirt, and lifted one hand up as if to take a pledge. “I swear I am telling the truth.”

Spencer smirked and sat back in his chair. “How formal Y/N.”

“It seemed to be the only way to shut you up doctor.” You teased making him chuckle. The glistening look in his eyes was enough for the flashbacks of your dream to once again greet your mind. Your palms began to sweat.

Thankfully, before Spencer could notice the sudden nervousness in your demeanour, Tara sat down next to you. She instantly engaged Spencer in a conversation which meant you could close your eyes for a moment of peace.

Mainly to calm your nerves.

The rest of the journey was luckily uneventful. Spencer’s undivided attention was on his conversation with Tara, and later on the team’s discussion of the case, which meant you managed to get some quick shut-eye before arriving at the destination.

The afternoon was also going smoothly. You tried to act as normal as you could around him. All you really hoped for was that he couldn't sense any tension of off you since that would lead to questions you couldn't answer.

It helped that first and foremost, the two of you were professionals. Both Spencer and you possessed the ability to compartmentalise. Now, the case came first. Which meant that even if you seemed a little standoffish with the brunette doctor, you could just explain you were focused on work.

“God, I’m starving.” Matt exclaimed leaning back in his chair. He glanced at the time and looked between the group. Luke, Tara, and Rossi all nodded in agreement.

“Coffee for me. A big fat coffee.” You replied with a small smile while getting up on your feet. “Anybody else?” Your eyes locked with Spencer’s. He lifted his hand up as his mouth pursed into a shy half-smile. You couldn't help but smile back.

While Matt and Luke took dinner orders from everyone, you slipped out of the room and headed for the precinct kitchenette.

As you reached for the stack of paper cups, a tiny yawn escaped your lips. Yup, the lack of proper sleep was definitely catching up with you. Especially since you were awake now for close to eighteen hours with no end in sight.

“Hey.” JJ appeared in the doorway; breaking you away from your thoughts. You shifted your weight to face her, and smiled. “Hey, I would have gotten you a coffee too.” You said, but the petite blonde shook her head. “Oh no, I just wanted to talk to you alone for a moment.”

You raised a concerned brow. “Is everything okay?”

She hesitated briefly before taking a step towards you. “Spencer told me about your trip to tour venues the other weekend.” Her voice was low; almost as if she was afraid someone would overhear. “He told me about your conversation. How you wanted to propose back then.”

Right. You shouldn't have been surprised he told JJ. They have been friends long before you came in the picture. You also shouldn't have been surprised that she approached you about this. It was only a matter of time.

“Why would you tell him that?” JJ asked, although it was more of a rhetorical question because she didn't give you a chance to respond. “You know how dark that period of his life was, and how hard your breakup was on him. You know that he only ended things to protect you Y/N. Not a day goes by where he doesn't hate himself for that decision even if back then it was the right one.”

A deep sigh escaped her lips. She ran her fingers through her hair before placing her hands on her hips. “I just don't understand why you would tell him that you wanted to take things to the next level after all this time has passed.”

You could feel yourself getting annoyed. Obviously, you were aware that JJ only had Spencer’s best interest at heart, but this pacific attack on you was uncalled for.

“I told him because he deserved to know.” You responded as calmly as you could. “We both moved on JJ, so I don’t-”

“But don't you see that he's going to overthink this now? You’re playing with his head, not to mention his heart.” She cut you off. Ouch. Her words stung. “He is going to constantly wonder what could have been.”

“And you think I don't do that already? Honestly JJ, do you think this is easy for me?” You asked, voice slightly elevated. “I really thought Spencer was the love of my life. I thought he and I we were meant to be.” At this point, tears were forming in the corners of your eyes.

“But he broke my heart and whatever his reasons were I lost a piece of me that day. A piece I never got back. Yet despite the empty feeling inside me, I stayed by his side. He was going through a terrible time and I knew he needed me. So don’t tell me Spencer is going to ponder now, or whatever, because he is not the only one that went through this breakup.”

“I just-” JJ began again but you lifted your hand in-front of you to stop her. “I get that you are looking out for him, but maybe you should stop and think that no-one is looking out for me. Except for Spencer, no-one ever was.” You snapped, and turned away from her.

The petite blonde lingered for a second before walking out. She knew better than to keep pressing on the matter.

You tried to focus on making the coffees; which proved hard as your eyes were glossy with tears and your hands were trembling from the nerves.

Your chest ached. Your head was spinning.

As far as you were aware, the brunette doctor was glad you told him. Was that not the truth? Did he confess something else to JJ? If so, why would he lie to you? These questions circulated your mind, adding to the already existing headache.

You leaned against the cold wall and closed your eyes. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. You tried to regulate your hazy breathing in order to calm yourself down.

That’s how Spencer found you.

The hazel-eyed doctor got concerned when you didn't return in a timely manner - it doesn't take that long to make coffee. He went looking for you, and on his search he peeked inside the kitchenette to discover he was right to worry.

“Whoa Y/N, hey. Hey.”

He immediately reached for the pot and put it away before turning back to you. He hastily grabbed your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze to try get a reaction out of you. No luck.

At this point your whole body was shaking. Slowly, you opened your eyes to meet his sympathetic gaze. Teardrops escaped down your cheeks, trailing along black mascara.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Spencer asked, but when you opened your mouth to explain no words came out. All you could do was shake your head.

“It’s okay, hey.” He let go of your hands and wrapped his strong arms around you instead, pulling you close. He placed one palm at the back of your head, encouraging you to recline against his chest, as the other drew soothing circles along your lower back.

“It’s okay.” He whispered again before resting his chin on top of your head. He closed his eyes, basking in the all too familiar smell of your shampoo.

Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered slightly at the feeling of your body pressed against his. And with every second that passed, you sunk deeper into his warmth.

Spencer realised he couldn't remember the last time the two of you were this close. The last time he hugged you like this. He thought he did, but now that you were in his arms he knew he was wrong because the memory didn't feel the same. Although, that didn't seem important right now.

Eventually, your nerves calmed down. Breathing returned to normal, and you were no longer crying. However, if you were being honest, you didn't want the hug to end just yet. You felt peaceful. Safe.

At home.

Perhaps it was because of those feelings you did what you did next. Or perhaps it was because the fatigue that only a good sleep could fix was messing with your thoughts.

You tilted your head upwards, which caused Spencer to open his eyes. His gaze instantly locked with yours. When he noticed the small smile circling your lips, he smiled back.

“Are you okay?” He asked, still in a whisper.

You nodded. “Better now.”

He was going to ask if you wanted to tell him what happened. He was going to ask if there was anything else he could do. He was going to ask, but he found himself frozen and completely lost in your beautiful eyes.

Perhaps it was because of the way he was looking at you. Or because your stomach was jumping inside of your body, exactly like it did in your dream.

You found yourself slowly leaning in, upwards. The pull you felt was almost magnetic. This was wrong on so many levels but it was like the world fell away; for both of you. Spencer matched your pace and leaned down, his heart hammering inside his chest.

His face now inches away from yours. One of his hands was still on your lower back, while the other cupped your cheek. His hot breath hit against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours for any sign to stop what was about to happen, but despite your better judgement you didn’t want to stop.

And just as it was about to happen, just as you were about to kiss the man you were once in love with, a realisation hit you.

You were doing exactly what JJ implied. You were playing with his feelings. If you kissed now, he was definitely going to overthink things. Overthink your relationship, and everything that happened up until this point.

You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't jeopardise your friendship.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered against his lips and pulled away from his embrace. “I am so sorry. That shouldn't have happened.” Nervously, you ran your fingers through your hair.

“No.” Spencer said quietly. “No, I’m sorry. You were feeling vulnerable, I shouldn-” You shook your head. “This is my fault Spencer. I’m the one that leaned in first.” You reiterated.

“I didn't stop you.” Spencer added, placing his hands in his pockets almost as if he was no longer sure what to do with them.

“I have a fiancé.” You whispered. The statement was more of a self-reminder than anything else.

“You have a fiancé.” Spencer repeated, and you detected a familiar sadness in his tone.

Silence. The two of you stood awkwardly looking at one another.

Even though stopping the kiss was the right thing to do, you felt as if somehow you made things worse between you and the hazel-eyed doctor. It broke you a little. Primarily because as you were lost in the moment you realised that there was a chance you possibly still felt something for Spencer.

Something strong.

Oh Baby, what've you done to me? I can't seem to chase you out of my dreams

A/N: hello friends! i hope you liked this chapter!! i’d love to hear your feedback and as always if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @do-yr-research, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor, @idroppedmygourd

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suddencolds · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing | Genshin Impact

During Windblume festival, Diluc ends up hosting in an event in a venue that’s suitably decorated. Unfortunately, he just happens to be allergic to the flowers.

(This might be the most self-indulgent allergy fic I’ve ever written, haha. DIluc snzfic + pollen allergies + company from someone... unexpected.)

—

It starts as a miscommunication.

It’s harmless enough. Donna, whom Diluc vaguely remembers seeing outside of the flower shop just adjacent to Angels Share, makes an arrangement with Charles to decorate the Dawn Winery. An act of gratitude, or something along those lines—just in time for Windblume Festival.

At least, that’s how Charles tells him about it, just as Diluc is about to leave from his shift the night before the party.

“Decorations?” he asks. “I see. I will have to give her my thanks. Did she speak to Adelinde about it?”

Charles ponders this, taking his place behind the counter. “I’m not sure,” he says. “She says she hopes it’s to your liking, though.”

It’s all Diluc can do to nod. Decorations for Windblume usually mean one thing, but there’s a reason why the tavern is scarcely decorated, and it’s not that he doesn’t have the means to decorate. The tavern’s current undecorated state—with the exception of pressed-dry flowers or flowerless vines strung around the second floor railings—is meant to accommodate… well.

He doubt Donna knows, because he’s never had a reason to bring it up in conversation. As far as truths go, it’s somewhat embarrassing. For now, he can only hope that her act of kindness isn’t as extensive as he thinks.

—

It’s an oversight, for sure, but it’s not until he steps foot into the main hall of the winery, two hours before the event’s inception that he realizes the extent of it.

The winery is crowded with flowers. There are snapdragons and cecilias strung up around the balconies, windwheel asters in neatly arranged bouquets on every available table, dandelions and wolfhooks cresting the fireplace. Vines of ivy and windwheel aster blossoms are woven around the staircase railings.

Instinctively, he raises a hand to cover his nose and mouth, as if to shield himself from it all. There’s a telltale itch already settling in his nose.

It’s a beautiful sight. But Diluc is very, very allergic.

He flings every window open—surely the air from outside must be an improvement—and bolts out of the building as soon as he can. Just from a few minutes of occupying the winery, he’s already congested, and his eyes are brimming with allergic tears.

The event—a celebration of the anniversary of the Dawn Winery’s founding, that happens to align closely with Windblume every year—is going to last for five hours. Moreover, there will be esteemed guests present, with which he’ll have to discuss business matters, which means that he has to be present.

Diluc shuts his eyes. Seasonal allergies are not anything that will cause him lasting harm, he’s sure… except, perhaps, to his professionalism. The winery has been in a financially good place these past few years, which means there’s barely any pressure on him to prove his own competence. His presence is more for show than for anything else. This should be fine. A five hour celebration, and then he’ll be out of here. He can ask the maids to deal with taking down the decorations later.

—

He arrives early, stands as far from the floral decorations as he can—it’s difficult; they’re everywhere—to make sure everything is in place. Despite his efforts, the winery is practically a flower garden, thanks to Donna’s well-intentioned arrangements. It’s not long before he’s sniffling again.

His eyes are starting to water, too. He wipes them gingerly on the cuff of his sleeve, sniffles, and nods his acknowledgement to the guests that are starting to file in.

“Sir Ragnvindr,” someone he recognizes as a business associate says to him, holding a flute of champagne. “How are you on this fine evening?”

How does he look? Diluc sniffles again. “I’m well,” he says, rather curtly.

“Mondstadt’s Windblume Festival is certainly a sight,” the associate is saying. “I’m glad I stopped by town at such an opportune moment.”

Diluc can’t think of anything he’d want to do less, right now, than entertain someone’s small talk. “It is one of Mondstadt’s most… hiIh!— most esteemed annual traditions… hiih-!” Damn it. Not now.

The itch in his nose is back. Luckily, the associate either doesn’t notice his predicament or doesn’t find it worth commenting on.

“Is that so? Tell me more about it.”

Diluc sniffles again. Anything to keep his nose from openly running. “I’m... sure… hiIIH-!” Barbatos, he needs to sneeze. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now. “...There are many people here more qualified to recount Mondstadt’s hiIhh-!… history… snf!… than I am.”

The associate raises an eyebrow, cocking his head. “Have you not lived here all your life? The previous owner of the Winery was Crepus Ragnvindr. I was under the impression that he was—”

“My father,” Diluc confirms, before he’s ducking away to stifle a sneeze, almost perfectly contained, into his wrist.

“hiIH’NGxt!” He gasps, sniffling, and presses his wrist closer to his face for the second. “hh…. hiiIH’NDGxt!”

It’s two sneezes, but they’re barely relieving. He raises his head, blinking. “Excuse me. Your assumptions are correct, though I…” he makes the mistake of rubbing his nose—something about the gesture just makes him need to sneeze. “hiIH… it’s been awhile since I’ve, snf, had the chance to properly celebrate, and longer still since… hIIh-!... since I’ve heard the history.”

“That’s strange,” the associate says. “You have lived in Mondstadt your whole life, yet you don’t know it’s history? Then again, I heard that you left for a few years, so maybe you feel no attachment to it.” It’s a thinly-veiled insult, but Diluc is too distracted to address it. He wants nothing more than to sneeze freely, but he’s sure that it would be loud, and it’d draw more attention than he wants right now. For now, he settles for raising a hand to—

“hiIH’DGXxt!” God, his eyes are watering, and the sneeze—though stifled—is forceful enough to jerk him forward, his shoulders shuddering.

The associate cringes. “It is a shame that you are spending the festival unwell.”

“I’m fine,” Diluc says, “Just… snf, just… hih!… HIih’GGKXt-shiu! ngh...” He needs to get out of here. Stifling offers virtually no relief at all, and he’s not going to stop sneezing anytime soon, from the looks of it.

He sighs, rubs his nose on the back of his hand, tells himself he can handle a few extra decorations. “Sorry. Did you, snf, have business matters to discuss?”

The associate’s expression hardens. “As you know, we have been ordering from the winery for a couple months now. I regret to inform you that there have been a few—”

Diluc blinks quickly. He can already feel his breath wavering—the start of another long, embarrassingly desperate buildup, probably.

“—troublesome incidents, specifically regarding the delivery of the wine. The delivery vehicles have been delayed on a handful of occasions—”

“hiIH! snf… hIIiih…”

His nose is tickling with such ferocity it’s almost torturous. He needs to get outside. His allergies are tolerable out in town in the open air, as long as he walks quickly enough and avoids all of the more festive installments. But here, in an enclosed space so thoroughly decorated, in a living room with mediocre circulation at best, surrounded by more flowers than he’s ever seen in his life…

“—just last week, the delivery cart was stopped by an assembly of hilichurl archers that destroyed nearly half the stock. Three weeks before that, the carriage caught the notice of one of Liyue’s Ruin Guards. I expect you are aware of these incidents?”

Diluc clears his throat. “I am. An excess of wine was sent back—hiiH! … in both cases, snf!- as soon as word of these setbacks… hIIH... reached the winery, snf.” The congestion is starting to settle in his voice, dulling his consonants. “You yourself… HIIh-! verified that the shipments m-made… hIIH-! it back to you… HIIIh!”

Sevens above. He doesn’t want to sneeze again, in front of someone who’s looking at him with a combination of disgust and condescension. But he knows, by now, that the most he can do is delay the inevitable.

“Ah,” the man waves a hand dismissively. “We did get the wine eventually. But it was still delayed, you see. Quite—”

—Diluc gasps sharply. “HIIIih-!”

“—an unprofessional experience, to say the least.”

His shoulders tense, as he jerks forward again, catching a barely restrained sneeze between the pinch of his fingers. “hihH'GXNt...! snf, hIIH… HIIH’NGDTtsh!” His body shudders with the release; he can feel the pressure of the sneeze settle behind his eyes, along with a dull ache—he’s going to give himself a headache if he keeps this up. “hiih-!... hiihHH…” This would be less humiliating if he could just sneeze and be done with it. Instead he finds himself caught in buildups that go nowhere, with a tickle in his nose that refuses to abate. “HIIIH… hIH’GZSchhh! snf… hhH-!”

Barely a breath in, his breath is already hitching again. He ducks into his sleeve, cringing, just in time for—

“hh… hiiH!... hh... HIIH’GXnT—shEw!!” The failed attempt at stifling is strangely relieving, all things considered, and he exhales shakily, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

“Sir Ragnvindr,” The associate says pointedly. “I’m sure you can see where the problem lies. Delays are not exactly conducive to business.”

Diluc bites back an irritated retort. Delivery to Liyue from Mondstadt is bound to have its complications, given the concentration of enemies outside of the two cities; he’s sure this associate is aware of that, too. He has no control over whether the deliveries get interrupted, and he’s pretty sure it’s the associate’s fault for not putting the orders in in advance.

“What… snf… would you suggest, then?”

The associate smiles. “Given our longstanding role as customers, I believe monetary compensation would only be fair.”

Diluc sighs, scrubs at his eyes with one hand. “You can bring it up with Elzer. He is usually the one to handle these sorts of things,” Diluc says. “In the future, though, to save both of us the trouble, it would be best if you would... snf!... take care to place your orders in advance.”

The man stares back at him, his lip curling. “I beg your pardon?”

“The roads between here and Liyue are dangerous. I cannot always guarantee a safe delivery,” The tickle in his nose is back, relentless. If he’s going to sneeze again, the last thing he wants is to do it in front of this associate. Instead, he turns on his heels, sniffling. “Excuse me.”

He just about bolts from the room, past the floral decorations and up the staircase. The second floor is darker, lit only by the ceiling chandelier. He all but slumps against the wall. His nose is still itching, and he raises a gloved hand as his vision goes watery and indistinct—

“hiIIH’IISCH’iiuu! Hh… hDDt’TTZCSh’u!”

He doesn’t have time to wonder if anyone’s heard. Suddenly he’s gasping again, fumbling for a handkerchief, pulling up one sleeve so he can wipe his nose on the back of his wrist when he doesn’t find one. “Hiih… hiIIIH… snf-!”

The tickle falters just as suddenly, leaving him on the precipice of a sneeze, suspended in ticklish wait. He rubs his nose again, in hopes that the pressure on the bridge of his nose will be just irritating enough to coax out a sneeze, but...

It leaves him panting, his eyes still shut as he stands there, his breath still shaky with anticipation.

“hiIIH…! snf…” Nothing, still. “HIIIh...”

He rubs his nose again, hard, on the back of his wrist. Maybe if he could just sneeze—give his body relief in the fit it so clearly wants—it will solve his predicament for the next fifteen minutes, at least.

He just has to find somewhere quiet.

He rounds the corner on the second floor, stumbles through the door at the end of the hall out onto the balcony. The fresh air is immediately relieving, and he sucks in a long breath, leaning forward on the balcony railing. With the exception of some of the Dawn Winery staff, no one’s outside, and he doubts any of the guests will have reasons to spend enough time on the second floor to find the door that leads here. He figures it’s as good a place as he’ll find, for the time being.

The itch in his nose still burns, almost intense enough to make him shiver. Cecilias are wound around one of the balcony’s wooden rungs—he wonders, momentarily, if it’d be worth it to—

The door behind him swings open. He startles.

“Oh,” someone says from behind him. “...sir Diluc.”

It’s Rosaria, from the church. He doesn’t know much about her—he can probably count the number of words they’ve exchanged on one hand. She’s at the Angel’s Share every Thursday with Kaeya, downing drinks faster he thinks could possibly be healthy—though she must know her limits, given that she never seems to get as drunk as some of the knights do. Now, she eyes him warily.

There’s a windwheel aster clipped to the lapel of her shirt.

“Didn’t expect you to see you here,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you like, the most important person here?”

“Something like that,” he says.

“Then I suspect there’s a reason why you’re hiding out here.”

He doesn’t answer. How can he? “Ah, well, it’s fine,” she says, sounding unbothered. “Whatever reason you have, it doesn’t really matter to me. Hope you don’t mind if I smoke.”

He sniffles, turning away to wipe his nose on his wrist. “I… don’t.”

“Okay. I figured you’d be happier if I did it outside, anyways.” She steps into place next to him, digs through her pockets for a cigarette. “Think you could light it?”

He lowers his hand and turns to face her. Before he has a chance to light it, though, something about the proximity of the flower on her shirt is just enough to set him off — the next breath he takes leaves him gasping, his eyes watering immediately as he ducks violently into his elbow.

“hiIH… nGKTt!”

He’s not even close to done. “hiIH… hiiihH…. HH-!! snf-! hHiih’NDGXtT!”

“Bless you,” she says. “Are you sick?”

“Your… shirt…” is all he manages to gasp out, before he’s pressing his elbow tighter to his face, muffling another sneeze into the fabric of his sleeve—

“hiIH’IIIGXTtt… HIIiH-! Hiih… HIIH’IISsch’iu! Excuse me... HIih’GGKXt!!...”

“Oh,” she says, sounding like he’s just let him in on a secret. “You’re allergic.”

“Unfortunately,” he admits, feeling his face grow hot.

“You should’ve said.” She unclips the windwheel aster from her shirt, gives it half a look, and flicks it over the edge of the balcony.

“Wait,” Diluc says, his eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t mean to… hiIIh-! snf... imply you should get rid of it.”

Rosaria smiles unreadably. “I wasn’t wearing it by choice. A friend coerced me to. Is it just windwheel asters that set you off?”

“It’s… hiiiiH… it’s just about everything… hiIH’ITTSChh! hiIH… NGKTT-shiiu!” It’s getting harder and harder to stifle, but it’s already embarrassing enough to sneeze in front of her in the first place.

“Everything, huh? Sounds awfully inconvenient.”

He lights her cigarette with his vision. “Thanks,” she says, and immediately pulls it in to take an appreciative drag. “Kind of suffocating to be inside with so many businessmen for so long, if you ask me.”

He sniffles harder, rubbing his nose on the cup of his sleeve.“I… snf…! I’m not going to be stopping anytime soon. You should probably… hiih... find somewhere else to smoke… hiiH... hiih’GKTT-!”

“You know,” Rosaria says, after a beat. “You’d be done sneezing sooner if you didn’t hold them back like that.”

If Diluc wasn’t blushing before, he’s sure he must be blushing now. It’s embarrassing to hear her address his sneezing in such a straightforward manner—he’s starting to see why she gets on so well with Kaeya.

“I’m fine, thanks… hiih… hiiH’NGXT’Sshh! HIIH’GKTT-! ugh...” Maybe she has a point—the stifling is starting to make his head hurt, and he hunches forward, still sniffling, to lean more heavily on the railing.

She shrugs. “Okay. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind. Why’d you decorate the winery like that, anyway? It seems awfully… masochistic.”

“A misunderstanding. Donna’s doing, though… hiiiH!... it would have been ungrateful if I had taken the decorations down... hiiih... hiIH’GkkT!!” — caught neatly in the palm of his hand. “hIih… hiIIH… nGSSCHh! snf…”

“Sevens, Diluc. Drop the formalities and let yourself sneeze. I’m getting a headache just listening to you.”

He frowns, lifts his hand from his face, only to clamp it back on when he realizes what a mess he’s made out of himself, his skin prickling with embarrassment. “If you’re certain...”

She scoffs, taking another drag of the cigarette. “Trust me. I couldn’t care less.” Usually, smoke doesn’t bother him—his pyro vision would be significantly more inconvenient if it did—but now, with his nose so sensitive, it’s exactly the last push he needs to send him over the edge.

“hIIH.. HIIH…” He blinks through teary eyes, his grip tightening against the railing. “HiiH… iHH'GZCHh-iiu! Hihh… hhD’TTschH’iu! snf.. hiIH... HIHH'iischHiew!”

The relief from letting himself sneeze is immediate and almost dizzying. He gasps again, taking a step back from the balcony. The next sneeze snaps him forward at the waist.

“hiIH’ISCHhiuu! hiIih… GKKTT-’SHiuu!” Rosaria disappears back into the manor, so quietly he almost doesn’t hear her leave, but he’s too out of it to properly react. “Hiih… hiIh… HIIH’ISCCHh’yuu!” He sniffles against his wrist, his shoulders just about slumping with the relief, before they’re tensing again just a few seconds later. “hiih… hiiih.. hiiIH’NGTTT-SHIu! Hiih… HiiH’IIIISCCHh’iuu!”

He groans, sniffling, resisting the urge to bury his head in his hands—it seems like an appealing enough option, if not for the fact that he’s been covering with one of them. The door behind him opens again.

“Thought you might need this,” Rosaria says, and hands him a handkerchief. He takes it gratefully. It’s only after he’s blown his nose into it—quietly—that he trusts himself to speak.

“Thank you,” he says. “I’ll find a time to give it back when it’s clean... snf.”

She blinks at him, her eyebrows furrowing as she looks him over. “Geez, you look awful. I’ll ask Kaeya to stop by later so he and I can take down the decorations for you.”

It’s surprisingly sweet. “You don’t have to,” Diluc says, wincing at the congestion in his voice. “I can get it... dealt with… hiih’IISSSH’iuu!”

“Your maids can, you mean. Still, it will be faster if we help out... your bedroom’s on the second floor, isn’t it?”

When he nods, she shrugs, leaning back casually against the doorframe. “Even more reason to get it cleaned up faster, then. Would it kill you to accept some help for once in your life?”

Diluc sniffles, folding the handkerchief neatly. “I suppose not. I... appreciate it, then.”

She smiles at him. “It’s the least I can do. I’ve been leeching off your free alcohol this whole afternoon, so we can call it even.”

#sneeze fic #snzfic #snz fic #sneeze kink #snz #gen/shin im/pact #i wrote the first 1.7k of this in 1 day -> told myself it was too indulgent and shouldn't see the light of day -> left it for 2 weeks #sucked it up and finished it today #so here we go. my first allergy fic on this blog #(maybe my first allergy fic ever..?)#so it was new for me... please forgive me if it doesn't rly work #my fic

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Watch Your Words-Arthur Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader

(GIF credit to @paulinska44stark)

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff @mzcrazy2

Masterlist

Prompt List

Requested by anonymous: 'can you do a arthur shelby one where the reader is his daughter (16-17) and they get into argument and he says something he doesn't mean and she runs off and everyone starts to get worried when they cant find her but she with bonnie or Isaiah and Arthur finds her and they talk and he apologizes and they make up'

Characters: Arthur Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader, Isaiah Jesus x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Alcohol abuse/drunkenness, neglect, swearing, crying, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I moaned as I stirred that morning, hating how little sleep I had got. My father had been out once again, stumbling in at who knows what time, not keeping quiet and sounding like he was having a fight with himself downstairs. It wasn't unusual for him to drink this much, he used to do it a lot more, and I thought it had stopped for a while; the company was doing well, there hadn't been as much trouble recently, my father had been more present in my life. However, I watched it all crumble before me, returning to nights by myself, cooking for one, not having anyone to talk to.

Before heading downstairs, I peeked into my dad's room, wondering if he had made it upstairs. I was wrong, hoping that he was sprawled out on the sofa. Again, I made the mistake of thinking he wasn't that drunk, finding him lying down on the kitchen floor, two of the chairs from the dining table knocked over, as well as smashed glass surrounding it.

Sighing, I brushed some pieces of glass away from his head, hoping he would want to head to bed as soon as he woke up. Dad was on his back, head tilted to the right as he lightly snored. His coat had been in the hallway, along with his hat, but he had failed to take his jacket off, it was half way down his arms.

"Dad," I quietly said, shaking him lightly,"dad!"

He jolted awake, taking in a sharp breath, trying to figure out where he was. When he saw me, he groaned, wiping a hand over his face. Helping him sit up, I prayed that he wouldn't be sick (I had dealt with that situation too many times), not saying anything yet as I didn't know what mood he was in.

"Fucking hell." his voice was raspy, still rough from the night before."Did I wake you up?"

"Last night you did. But it doesn't matter."

"Sorry love."

"It's alright." I lied, managing to sit him down in a chair."Do you think you can stomach something?"

"Nah."

I didn't press further, grabbing a broom and sweeping up the glass into a pile. He said nothing more. As I got rid of the glass, making sure there were no more pieces we could step on, I noticed his fist on the table clenching up.

"Dad? You OK?"

"Just thinking about last night." he mumbled.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Don't worry. It's not for your ears. Go on, go get dressed."

I did as he said, knowing he was particularly sensitive at this moment. It was quiet downstairs when I was getting ready, a blessing and a curse. He could be sat down gathering his senses, trying to sober up, or he could be working himself into a frenzy. It had happened before, and I was scared it could happen again. I loved my father, he had raised me well, considering that we were Shelby's. Though I supposed I had Aunt Polly and Aunt Ada to thank for that, not him. He had always tried to be around when I was younger, wanting his child to know her dad. But as I got older, when I could become more independent, that's when he realised he could have a bit more freedom, especially since the woman (my mother) he fucked wanted nothing to do with him, just to look after the child they created.

I returned to him once I was ready for the day, slowly stepping into the kitchen. My heart sunk at the sight of whiskey in his hands once again. How could someone drink so much and continue? I had been drunk before, and I didn't enjoy the headache the next day.

"Dad, did something happen last night?" I hesitantly asked, slowly walking towards him.

He scoffed."Some people don't understand what respect means. I'm Arthur fucking Shelby, I don't think twice about killing a man."

I hated when he spoke of killing. It was something I always pushed to the back of my mind.

"You would not believe what this woman said to me last night. She...she said...how the fuck did I end up with a daughter like you? How could my daughter, who apparently has the heart in an angel, look me in the face everyday and smile? Hm? Well go on then, answer her question!"

"Dad, she was just trying to win you up."

He took a swig of his drink, clumsily leaning back in his seat."No, no, she meant that! And I want to know too. Since you're so perfect, what are you doing in the Shelby family?"

I backed away, now pressed up against the wall opposite him."You're not making sense. Look, I'll cook us something to eat, it'll help with your headache."

"The only headache round here is you."

"What?"

"Don't know why your whore mother left you on my doorstep. I'm a killer, how would I know how to raise a child?"

"Just shut up dad, you're wasting your energy over this."

He shot up from his chair, causing it to hit the cabinets behind him."Don't you tell me what to do!"

I flinched back, hitting my back and head on the wall. He had never hurt me, but there was a different rage in his eyes, and I was scared that this was the look his victims saw before he killed them.

“When I fucked her, I was drunk, done a few lines, eh? I didn’t even know her name, but it didn’t matter. She might have been a prostitute, she might have been a woman at the club. But it didn’t matter.”

“Dad,” I sobbed, wondering if I should just run,“please stop talking like this.”

“I’ve slept with hundreds of women, never had a baby turn up though. But of course, just when things were going good for me, I got stuck with you. I had to spend money on you, feed you, dress you, shit, I had to make sure I knew what the fuck I was doing and be there for you. My fucking life went out of the window.”

I didn’t need to hear any more of this. Taking my chances, I darted towards the hallway, throwing open the door and running into the street. People on their way to work (or coming back from a long night out) watched as I sprinted past them, tears streaming down my face, despite the wind repeatedly drying them. I had heard my dad call for me, and I was sure he had fallen down trying to come after me. Stumbling into Charlie’s yard as I slowed down, I sighed with relief when I saw that no one was there. It seemed stupid to come here, when it was my family that owned it (and they were the people I wanted to be away from), but it was also somewhere I felt safe. Sniffling, I used one of my dress sleeves to wipe away the tears, now idly walking around the place. It was so dirty here, gloomy and dark; it reflected the mood at the moment.

Sitting down on a chair, that was terribly out of place, outside the stables, I leaned back, hating how the cold air hurt my lungs from running. My throat was recovering from being dry, but now there was a metallic taste in my saliva. It wasn’t lady-like to sit like this, but who gave a fuck? Coughing before spitting on the floor, I sunk deeper into the chair, legs spreading out to make it comfier.

“What’s little Miss Shelby doing all the way out here by herself?” I heard Isaiah call. However, the cocky smirk he held disappeared when he saw my teary face.“Shit, what’s happened?”

“My dad.” I sobbed, sitting up properly when he knelt in front of me.“He’s just drunk and...he said some things.”

“What things?”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble, Is.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Isaiah held on of my hands that was resting on my lap.“You’ve never been this upset before, he’s clearly said something that’s hurt you.”

“I’m tired of his habits Isaiah, he’s gone back to his old ways. I hate it! I don’t understand how he can go out almost every night and drink to that extent. He’s broken things in the house, he’s been sick, he’s fallen down the stairs, and yet it continues! And today, he said hurtful words to me. Told me how I was just the child of a whore, I was unwanted, he was basically saying he regrets taking me in when he could have easily given me to an orphanage!”

“Hey, calm down.” Isaiah kept his voice quiet.“He’s drunk, you know that. And that means he doesn’t mean those things.”

“They say that drunk words are your true thoughts.” I snapped.

“(Y/N), please listen to me.”

Reluctantly, I looked down at him, trying not to smile at the image of our hands interlocked.

“Your dad loves you far too much for his own good. He’s only ever loved his family, as in his brothers, sister and aunt, and that was just the normal. You were different. Yes, you weren’t planned, meaning he hadn’t prepared himself to welcome yet another person in his life.And he had to throw himself into parenthood, had to realise he was looking after a child. It was like going cold turkey for him. Now I’m not excusing his words or actions from earlier, he shouldn’t have ever said such things to you. But he worries, he worries because he loves you so much that he doesn’t even understand it himself.”

“I know that deep down...it just hurt. And I’m scared that he’s going to keep doing this to himself.”

He sighed, standing up, tugging on my hand.“Let’s go. We don’t need to be in this sad place.”

I slightly smiled, still holding his hand as I stood. However, he let go, taking off his coat and putting it on me. Luckily I was just tall enough for it to not drag on the floor, otherwise I would have dragged it through mud. He made his usual cheeky remark about it ‘looking better on me’, causing me to roll my eyes but laugh all the same. He distracted me as we walked, trying to steer the topic away from family matters.

"Isaiah, do you want kids?" I randomly asked.

He chuckled."Was that an offer?"

I shoved him away from me, causing us to laugh."You know what I meant you prick."

"Yeah, I do. It's still early days for me, especially since I'm doing a lot more for the boss and all that. But once I find my girl, I'll want to have my own family."

"That's very sweet of you Is. I can see you being a father, and a good one at that. Once you grow up a bit that is."

"You're wanting a mature man then, eh (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, do you know of anybody?"

He pretended to think."Nah."

The dreadful feeling that had been stuck in the pit of my stomach was almost gone, until I saw my dad running around the streets, obviously looking for me. Poor people in the street were bombarded by questions, he was terrifying to them. When he saw Isaiah and me, he was relieved, taking long strides towards us. He didn't look angry anymore, but I was still wary, hoping Isaiah would stay beside me.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) love, I've been looking everywhere for you!" he exasperated, trying to catch his breath.

"She was down by Charlie's yard." Isaiah explained.

"Why didn't you find me straight away?"

I butted in before he got angry with Isaiah."I was upset, Isaiah cheered me up. I wouldnt have come back anyway."

"I'm sorry (Y/N). I really didn't mean anything that I said this morning. It was the alcohol, I swear!"

"You'll use this excuse for the next time too."

"There won't be a next time, I promise!"

"Dad, do you know how much you upset me today? You basically told me you didn't want me, you called my mother a whore. There were so many random things that came out of nowhere, and it was purely to hurt me because you were hurting."

"I know. A woman in the bat last night reminded me of how your mother was, or at least I think she did. She made the same comments, saying that I didn't deserve to have such a lovely, good hearted girl as a daughter."

"No, sometimes you don't. But you're lucky that I love up to that title, because I love you too much to let this get in the way of our relationship."

"I'm going to stop, I won't do that again!"

"You're not going to drink again?"

He hesitated."I...I mean-"

"Dad, I was joking. I'm not expecting you to quit drinking altogether, just don't drink as much. And not just because you say mean things, because you've hurt yourself in the past. And there's so many people who are after you."

"Alright love, I'll hold back. For you. Am I forgiven?"

"For now." I hugged him, still upset, but knowing that we had to move past this in order for him to get better."I'm going to stay with Isaiah today though. I feel like we should spend some time apart, for the rest of the day at least."

"Why with Isaiah?"

"Because he's my friend, and he's helped me take my mind off things. I'll see you later dad." I kissed his cheek before grabbing Isaiah's hand again, dragging him away.

"You know you're dad is going to kill me right?" Isaiah said once we were out of earshot.

"He won't. Not if he wants me coming back for dinner tonight."

"I'm going to lose you that soon?"

"You would be so lucky Isaiah."

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

I’m Sorry

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: You hate Ron, Ron hates you. Pretty simple. It only becomes complicated when the bloke says something about your cologne in Potions class.

Warnings: Swearing, insults, fighting.

Notes: Requested! Probably my favorite so far? I don't own the gif, I just couldn't find it in the suggestions-

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

The rule of thumb that everyone in Gryffindor gets along is far from true when it comes to you and Ronald Bilius Weasley. You guys clashed harder than the titanic and that iceberg. Honestly, no one remembered how it started, but they could remember the insults thrown back and forth. You didn’t exactly hide your hatred for the red-head and he was the same.

The two of you would fight deep into the night, effectively keeping up the whole tower with your insults and burns ringing in the empty common room. When fellow Gryffindors saw you two starting to get in a heated argument, most fled to avoid the damage. Sometimes it came to blows, leading to Fred and George or Hermione and Harry splitting you two apart, but it was mostly the older twins.

You two don’t even remember why you hate each other, at this point, you just do. At least, that’s what you told yourself every time you caught yourself staring at him from across the library or when you’d shove into him in the hallway. His smile was softer than freshly fallen snow and his eyes could rival the ocean with their beauty. You had absolutely no clue he was battling the same feelings.

Ron wished you would smile sweetly at him instead of sneering insults that made him want to hex you into next Tuesday. He wanted to hold your hand instead of get hit by it, but he figured this was best. He did start this. He was the one that turned cold toward you on the train one random year to avoid his feelings for you.

Today was one of the tenser days where you and Ron were inches from ending each other's blood lines. Everyone in the tower could already feel it and you weren’t even in the same room yet. You’d woken up a little bit later than usual all because of your Scream Off™ with the short Weasley the night before. You walked down the stairs of the boys dormitory, your hand running through your messy hair. Insults from the night before rang in your head like a bell.

“What did I do to deserve being trapped with the human embodiment of ginger ale?”

“Since when do you know things? I thought your brain was filled with cobwebs and moth balls?”

“We both know your face looks prettier after my fist has kissed it.”

It made your stomach twist with guilt, but the guilt melted into pure hatred when a cocky voice rang through the common room. You wanted to knock his lights out before your foot even hit the last step of the staircase.

“Finally awake, eh, (L/n)? Only took forever, lazy arse.” Ron was snickering on the main couch right in front of the fireplace. The atmosphere in the common room immediately shifted. You rolled your eyes as you walked up to the couch, standing right behind him.

“Shut it, Weasley.” You grabbed his hair, forcing his head back to look at your glare. “I hope you fall off a broom during Quidditch today.” Your voice was laced with a false sweetness. Your glare shifted to a dark smirk before jerking his head forward. After letting go of his hair, you walked past him, flipping him off. “Good morning Granger. Have a good game, Potter!” You smiled and waved goodbye after they said good morning and a quick thanks.

You got along perfectly with 2/3 of the Golden Trio. They were always polite to you, even if you would throw hands at their best friend. They didn’t play favorites though, which was nice. If one of you started the fight, they’d make it known when they broke it up.

“Oi! Don’t be a basta-!” Ron stood up quickly, going to run after you as you left, but was stopped by Harry’s hand pulling him back down onto the couch. “Ronald! Not today, please!” Hermione spoke up, rubbing her temples. “We already have to deal with Slughorn. I’d rather not also have to deal with your pathetic excuse for flirting.” She sighed out. Poor girl already had a headache and it wasn’t even 10 oclock.

Ron crossed his arms over his chest, his face heating up some. He cringed at the mere thought of finding you romantically attractive… Ok, he would admit you did have a nice ass, but not out loud.

“I’m not flirting. I hate his guts, Mione.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious! How could anyone find that twat even remotely attractive or adorable? He’s the bloody worst!”

Harry and Hermione shared a look before turning back to Ron. Harry and Hermione both knew better than that, this was a classic Enimies-To-Lovers scenario, at least that’s what they hoped, if not.. This was going to be a long, long, long year.

“No one said anything about him being adorable OR attractive, Ron.”

“Sod off, Harry, I know it was implied. You both know what I mean anyway.” Ron stood up, heading for the portrait hole.

“Where are you going?” Hermione groaned out. Her headache just got worse. “To get payback for the hairs that git ripped out.”

Ron walked down the hallways of the castle. He was so determined to find you he skipped breakfast, leading the remaining additions of the Golden Trio to come hunt him down. With some help from the older Weasley Twins, they managed to catch up with him pretty easily. Getting him to go to class, however, was a lot harder. Ron looked between his friends, then his brothers standing behind them for reinforcement. The keeper wasn’t moving an inch, not without seeing you first.

“No.”

“Ronald-”

“No, don’t Ronald me!”

“Ron! Come on! We have to go to potions in less than 5 minutes!”

“No! I’m just going to end up sitting next to that git and his stupid attitude the entire class! It’s going to be worse torture than seeing Snape everyday.” Ron crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, my fist has a date with his lips and I’m not going anywhere until that date happens!”

“He was at breakfast, you missed him. You can fight him after potions. Can we go to class now?” Harry tried to reason with the hot-headed idiot, but alas, nothing is ever that easy. He groaned when Ron shook his head no, causing the twins to step into the picture. If anyone could get him to go somewhere, it was them.

“Wow, Hermione, you're right.” Fred started, turning to his twin.

“He’s got it bad and he doesn’t even know it yet.” George finished, while Fred shook his head in dismay and muttered a quick ‘shame’.

“I do not, nor will I ever, like him. Ok? Get that into your thick skulls!”

“No one believes you, Ickle Ronniekins! In fact, most of Gryffindor Tower has a bet that you two will end up shagging in some broom closet in less than a week!” George stated while he rested his arm on his brother's shoulder.

“What?!” Ron’s face was turning pink again. “No! Ew!” Ron faked a few gags. “No! That would never happen!”

“Hey, if you don’t want him, can I have him? I’d love to see how he’d look on his kne-”

“OK! I’LL GO TO CLASS IF YOU SHUT UP-” Ron didn’t hesitate to cover his ears or turn briskly on his heels. The red-head hurried in the direction he came from, his two classmates following after him who both called out a thank you to the mischief masters. “Godric, why’d you ask them for help? Now I have that gross image in my head.”

“We both knew it’d be the only way to get you to Potions. Now hurry up! I’d rather not be late!” Hermione grabbed her friends wrists and dragged them down the intermixing hallways until they stood right outside the classroom, only then did she let go. Harry handed Ron his potions textbook while Hermione patted down her hair and walked in, trying to act like she didn’t just sprint across the school.

The two boys looked at each other, one rolling his eyes while the other snickered before walking in after her. The snickering red-head paused when he walked in, getting hit with a strong smell of mixed berries and fruit, almost like shampoo. He actually didn’t hate it, in fact, it made his heart beat a little faster. It was familiar. The idea had Ron lagging behind his friends.

Once he joined the crowd in the back of the classroom and stood beside his friend at the edge of the crowd, did he notice the scent almost shift. It was your cologne. It made him gag with how powerful it was. Godric, did you pour an entire bottle of cologne on you? It was literally making him feel sick. He was going to lose every marble he had if someone didn’t open a window for him.

When Slughorn began talking about today's lesson, it went in one of Ron’s ears only to travel out the other side. Your cologne was close to killing him and everyone was acting like it didn’t exist.

“Do you see (L/n)?” Ron whispered to Harry.

“He’s across the classroom, Ron, why?” Harry whispered back. The two continued to whisper over Slughorn. They’d end up asking Hermione for help anyway. “Worried about him?” Harry grinned until his friend jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

“No, just wondering so I can rag him on his shit cologne.” Ron made eye contact with you across the classroom. He stuck his tongue out when you discretely gave him the bird. “I’m so gonna beat his ass.”

“What? Ron, what cologne?”

“You can’t smell it?”

Harry was about to answer when he got interrupted by Slughorn abruptly asking everyone to take their seats and start the project. Neither of them noticed that pack of girls staring longingly at the bubbling cauldrons in front of them while they took their seats next to each other.

See, the thing that sucked the most about this is Slughorn was determined to make you and Ron basically best friends, so he stuck you at the Golden Trio’s table for the whole year, which led to more trouble than good. Luckily, he paired you up with Harry and Ron with Hermione so you didn’t ruin each other's faces or potions. However, today, the bickering began before you sat down.

“How’s your head feeling, Weasley?” You smirked, walking over with your brown side bag.

“How’s your shin feeling, (L/n)?” Before you could question what he meant, he kicked your leg before sitting down. You let out a grunt and sat down in your own seat before rubbing your now sore and most likely bruised leg.

“I can’t wait for this class to end so I can rip out more of your stupid ginger hair, Ginger Ale.” You pulled out your textbook and flipping to the page.

“Don’t bloody call me that, besides, why not just use that horrid cologne as pepper spray. With how much you wore today, it’s already doing the job for you.” Ron scowled at you from across the table, but his demeanor shifted ever so slightly when you dropped your quill and looked at him with wide eyes. He blinked a few times before looking around the room then behind him. “What?”

“Red, I.. You smell my cologne?” Your voice was filled to the brim with turmoil.

“So what if I do?” Ron’s face scrunched up with confusion.

“Have you heard of a potion called Amortentia?” You spoke up, covering your rapidly heating up face.

“A-amor- What?”

“Look, Red. Long story short, it’s a love potion. It’s strong enough to change love to obsession. It emits a smell that’s different for everyone and mimics the smell of your crush.” You looked at him between your fingers, seeing his confusion still so clear on his face.

“Ok.” Ron snorted. “What does that have to do with your shitty cheap cologne?”

“Weasley, mate, I know the cogs in your brain are super rusty, but just try to use ‘em ok?” You slammed your hands against the table as you spoke. “I’m not wearing my cologne today. I ran out last night. Slughorn had an open cauldron filled with Amortentia in class today.”

“S.. So what your saying is-” Ron’s brain was trying to process everything you’d said. He was still refusing to believe he loved, liked or tolerated you.

“You fancy me, you idiot.” You spoke up, louder than you intended.

Ron stared at you with wide eyes. His pale cheeks turned red, out of anger or embarrassment he wasn’t sure. He looked between Hermione and Harry before looking back at you.

“What? No I don’t. That’s ridiculous, borderline mental!”

“Then why did you smell my cologne?” You questioned, leaning over the table some. Ron went back to glaring at you, his arms crossing over the table.

“Probably because you're lying about having none.”

“Ok, say I was lying, Harry would smell it, yeah?”

“Yeah and I don’t smell anything besides the potions brewing.” Harry shrugged while Ron’s jaw dropped.

“Harry! Don’t encourage him!” Ron slammed his book shut, drawing more attention to the bickering table.

“I’m not encouraging anyone. Just being honest.”

“No, you know what? This is a load of bollocks! I do not like you, (L/n). In fact, I loathe you!” Ron stood up quickly, his stool tumbling to the ground with a bang. “I feel anything, literally anything except affection for you!”

You watched Ron storm out of the classroom and looked down at the table. You ignored the students and Slughorn staring at your table and, instead, focused on your bruised knuckles. Were you supposed to tell Ron you smelled his own stupid cologne, broom polish from Quidditch, chocolate frogs and hits of firework ash?

Before you knew it, you were running out of the classroom, ignoring the calls of your name. You spotted a glance of him rounding the corner and sprinted after it.

“Ron!” You called out, rounding the same corner. He turned around, his eyes narrowed. This was the first time he heard you say his first name and he wasn’t going to let his shock show through.

“What? Here to make fun of me? Well, go on. You’ll end up doing it anyway tonight. Don’t hold back now.” Ron’s hands balled up into fists.

“I’m not going to make fun of yo-”

“Yeah, and my hair isn’t red. Don’t bloody lie to me!”

“I’m being serio-”

“No, you aren’t!”

“Ok, you know what?” You stepped forward, grabbing a bunch of his shirt and slamming his back into a wall. He raised his fist to throw a punch, but your free hand caught his wrist. Before he could do anything else, your lips slammed against his.

He froze against the wall, his skull filling with emptiness at the feeling of your soft lips against his chapped ones. He couldn't stop the questions tumbling through his lips when you separated. He managed to stop when you pressed your forehead against his. The red-head didn’t have to strain his ears to hear your whisper in the empty hallway but shuddered when your hand threaded through his hair, gently massaging where you pulled earlier.

“I’m sorry..” You pulled back a tiny bit to look into his blue eyes, only now noticing the green flecks twinkling like stars in the night sky. “Does it still hurt?” Your voice was so soft it made his heart ache. He would’ve shaken his head, but didn’t want you to pull your hand away.

“No, it never really hurt.” Ron confessed, his shaky hands awkwardly landing on your waist.

“But you said-”

“I said a lot of things I didn’t mean..” Ron chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes dropping to your sneakers.

“Yeah, so did I.” You whispered awkwardly, just staring at the red-head against the wall. It was a good few minutes before you spoke up again. “Broom polish, earth and chocolate frogs..”

“What?”

“The um- the love potion.. That’s what I.. That’s what I got from it.”

“I’m co-”

“Ron, please. I smelled your cologne, the stupid sweets and your broom polish. Idiot.” You chuckled a little.

“Well excuse me, I haven't gotten my brain cogs oiled yet.” Ron smiled a little, desperate to hear more of your laugh. He mentally fist pumped the air when you did, in fact, laugh louder. “Seriously, though, I’m sorry.”

“So am I, Red.”

“Soooo..” Ron dragged out the o as he tapped his fingers along your waist. He gave you a lopsided grin as he continued. ”Should we go on a date or kiss more?”

“Why not both?” You leaned in again, stopping just before his lips.

“I like both.. We could go swimming in the Black Lake?” The pale boy grinned wider as his fingers tugged your shirt free from your trousers.

“Ron, it’s like 10 degrees outside- you just wanna see me shirtless!” You pecked his lips, chuckling when he faked a gasp, his hands now resting under your shirt..

“That is entirely not true, (L/n)! Where is your sense of adventure?”

“Not here, Weasley. I might’ve left it in the classroom, ya know, with my books since I had to chase your ass out here.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” It was Ron’s turn to kiss you.

“We have a lot to make to each other already. Let's just start at the basics.”

#ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley #hp imagine #hp x male reader #male reader #harry potter #hermione granger #fred weasley #geroge weasley #x male reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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todoscript · 4 years

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬

@grow-a-smile-for-a-while requested: i request 7 fluff + 10 angst please? With either Bakugou or Shinsou. (With 10 angst being them worried about the readers mental health) Thank you so much love ur writing!!1! 💗💗

anonymous requested: 7 fluff soulmate au for shinsou please!! Love your work 💛

prompt for milestone event: “I think you might be my soulmate.” + “I’m worried about you.” genre: soulmate au. angst with a bit of fluff. pairing: shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader word count: 3.1k+ warnings: implications of mental health issues.

author’s note: I combined the two requests since they both share the same prompt! This is actually my first time writing a soulmate au so I hope it’s alright. Special thank you to my lovely beta readers @tamasoft & @etegomanere!

Throughout his entire life, Shinsou has only ever known the colors white, black, and gray.

They’re colors that prevent him from fully embracing the world as he walks through life each day peering through muddy lenses. Some say beyond the glass that obscures them all lies a realm painted in beautiful hues, teeming with an euphoria of colors outside the monochrome of perpetual black and white.

If such a paradise exists, Shinsou has yet to see or meet anyone that has ever set foot in that world. In fact, he honestly doubts such a thing is real, and has long adapted into his endless days stuck between the grays filtering through his vision.

However, today, he experiences something entirely new.

Today, he sees the color red.

It starts early in the morning, from the very moment he lifts himself up from his bed at the white sunlight trickling into his dorm room. There, with unlidded eyes, he glimpses into a vibrant, spontaneous pigment that lines itself on the outside.

Shinsou blinks twice, squinting, unsure if the grisly stain invading his vision is really there. But after consecutively rubbing his eyes in an attempt to brush it away, he groans when the angry color has yet to leave. The crimson that surrounds him is very much real.

With an average person, they’d be ecstatic, absolutely joyful at the change happening before—no, within their very eyes. What they’re seeing now is only a step forward toward that rumored world of infinite hues—a whole artist’s palette of colors waiting for them. Sadly, that isn’t the case for Shinsou as he realizes he’ll have to go about his day lugging such… severity surrounding him.

The extremity of the hue that covers the corner of his sight reminds him of fires setting ablaze in the thick of a forest. It hurts to look at, hurts to stride through his day with such an intense color following his every move like it’s tormenting him. If this is what the other colors are like, he’d rather keep to his monochromatic existence, please. Just even looking up and darting his head around is enough to give him a headache.

“Whoa, my man Shinsou, you okay?” Shinsou’s classmate, Kaminari, asks him while the upbeat boy takes his seat to his right, noticing the grim expression on his classmate’s face that likely isn’t due to any lack of sleep this time, considering its austerity.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” Shinsou assures, managing to suppress the extra strain leaking out when he turns his head. With the red intensifying at his movements, he wills himself just to look straight ahead for now. That’s all he needs to get through the school day anyway—directing his eyes to the front of the classroom where their homeroom teacher, Aizawa, enters to give them the news for the day. And yet, he can’t help but allow himself drift to your empty desk lying to his left, located one seat down the column from his.

He grumbles. That makes it three days now—three days since you last attended class.

Shinsou knows you haven’t been going to class because you “weren’t feeling well”—the answer you gave him when he approached you last night as you were walking down the hallway to your room.

He knew something was wrong. Your demeanor in that moment felt off, it was strange and unlike you.

You were rubbing your hands up and down your skin, acting like just being in his presence was nerve-wracking, and you never once met his eyes during the conversation. No matter how often he craned his head to see you, you made a point to turn away each time. And much to Shinsou’s concern, he also caught onto the heavy bags afflicted beneath your eyes. You looked like you haven’t had much of an ounce of sleep, despite taking time off from classes to recover. It only seemed that you were only getting worse at that point, and he grew worried every second in front of you.

But before Shinsou could pry further, you hastily ended the exchange with a sputtered good night and retreated back to your dorm room, slamming the door shut as if to reinforce a barrier that would keep him away. The next thing he knew, he headed to sleep, and woke up seeing the color red.

Staring at the vacant desk instills something in him that makes the red glow brighter, consuming more of his grayscale almost angrily. He winces as the throb courses through his head with growing intensity.

“Shinsou, you alright?”

Aizawa directs his concern toward him in the middle of his lecture when he notices Shinsou shrink in his seat at the pain. From the very moment he turns to answer his teacher, the pulses bleeding into his head subside, and the fiery hues return to a tamer tinge.

He answers Aizawa with a small nod, though it isn’t enough to dispel the teacher’s doubt right away. Aizawa, in turn, raises a brow, discreetly gauging his student’s condition. Luckily for Shinsou, it isn’t long until he brushes it off and resumes the lecture, gathering the students’ attention again, aside from the boy on Shinsou’s right.

Kaminari flattens his hand next to his mouth, words coming out in a whisper only audible enough for his friend to hear, “Dude, I don’t think you’re okay… You looked like you were going through some severe migraine when I got into the classroom.”

“I told you, it’s nothing, okay?” Shinsou replies, not diverting his eyes from the front of the room and putting Kaminari’s concern to rest for now as he shrugs in return.

However, his words aren’t enough to impede his headaches from coming back during the day. They grow more potent than ever as the crimson ignites across his vision.

What the hell is going on? Shinsou questions at this point when Midnight, their instructor for today’s hero course, advises him to head to the nurse’s office after he stumbles across the training field one too many times to be healthy for him. Begrudgingly following her order, he lugs himself to Recovery Girl’s office, who advises him to have a seat before she assesses his condition.

“So, you’ve been having headaches, have you?” the old woman asks, voice coming out like sandpaper while she scans across a page on her clipboard. “Tell me, when did they start?”

Shinsou rubs the back of his neck. “Just this morning, when I woke up,” he answers, “and they’ve only been getting worse.” He leans forward on his elbows settled atop his thighs, grumbling under his breath over the mess of his day so far. The red surrounding him swells relentlessly in waves. He narrows his brows tightly at the vermillion adjoining his hands, delving into the crevices of his palms as they pulse like a heartbeat.

Recovery Girl hums between those thin, balmy lips of hers, gloved finger beneath her chin before she decides to hop off her seat and head toward the cabinets.

“Well, this isn’t a wound or physical injury of some sort, so I can’t use my quirk to heal you. However, I can prescribe you a drug used to relieve migraines if that’s fine.”

He nods and Recovery Girl rummages through the shelves and pulls out a transparent container. With her small steps slowly approaching toward him, Shinsou gets up to meet her in the middle, hand held out to retrieve the medicine.

“I also suggest you head back to your dorm for now and rest up. You’re in no condition to train at the moment.”

“Right, thanks,” Shinsou says, burying the container in the pocket of his pants. He gets up from his seat, steps proceeding to the exit of her office. When he makes it to the doorway, a thought finds its way at the forefront of his mind, and he pauses for a minuscule moment.

“Recovery Girl,” he decides to call out, head tilted in the small woman’s direction.

“Yes?”

“Has Y/n been seeing you recently? About her… unwellness?” He words carefully, unsure of how to put your condition to light when he was still kept in the dark from you.

Recovery Girl shows her confusion between the small, wrinkled features on her face. She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t heard or seen much of her recently. Why? Is something wrong?”

Shinsou’s lips purse together, an uneasy feeling creeping on him that the stain on his vision reacts to instantly. He feigns a stoic expression over the backlash not to worry the lady, his right hand clutching over the shape formed on his pocket from the container underneath.

“It’s fine. I’ll check on her when I get back to the dorms,” he tells her, and the old lady simply blinks, her aged, dull senses unaware.

“Very well. Make sure to get your rest and take your painkillers, alright?”

“Yeah, I know.”

With that, Shinsou makes his leave. Unusual to him, however, his steps begin to pick up for some reason at every stride down the hallways of the building. He’s not sure where this urgency is coming from, but he can’t find it within himself to stop moving, and in fact, quickens his pace until he’s making his way back to the Heights Alliance dormitories.

The gray in his eyes is now gone. Red is what consumes his sight, vividly turning every shade around him into crimson. Whatever crosses his path bleeds and quivers in jagged red edges, from wooden floorboards to the sunlight filtering through the windows. He’s not sure what this could mean, but the one thing Shinsou is certain about is that something is wrong. And he needs to go to you.

True to his word, the first thing he does is jab the button on the elevator to the building’s highest floor, walking out after his ascent with eyes aimed at your dorm room. What comes next is three firm knocks against the wood of your door, making a point to let his presence be known on the off chance you can’t hear him.

“Y/n?” he voices, your name echoing in the empty expanse of the hallway on his side, “It’s me, Shinsou. Please open up. I just want to check on you.”

There’s approximately three seconds of pause before Shinsou leans into the door, ear pressing against it to catch any sign of movements on the other side. He hears a rustle or two until it’s replaced by the padding of feet on the floor. Standing back, he prepares for the door to open as the golden doorknob rattles into a turn.

“Shinsou,” you greet quietly with the entrance’s slow swing, where he sees you peer at him from a crack between the door. Your tired eyes find him, and he immediately notes the bagginess still persisting underneath. They give his own dark eye bags a run for their money.

Though his edginess remains, the red dissipates back into grays, blacks, and whites. His head is now absent of those headaches that plagued him as he gazes through those muddy, monochromatic lenses again.

“What are you doing here? Isn’t class going on right now?”

“It is, but I was sent back,” Shinsou tells you, eyes never leaving yours as he observes you attentively. “wasn’t feeling well.”

You cross your arms on your chest, looking down while you squeeze a bit of your skin to busy your hands. There’s a significant silence between you two that Shinsou wishes didn’t drag on for so long. Before he can come up with anything to resolve the tension, you’re already a step ahead, beating him in breaking the silence.

“Well… if that’s all then I’m going to head back to my room,” you say. Your hand clutches the doorknob to pull it back in, but Shinsou’s quick to act.

“No, wait—!”

He braces his foot between the gap just in time to stop the door’s movement, the hinges creaking due to the sudden halt. Staring at him, you’re dazed by his actions as he pries the crack open further.

“Y/n, I know there’s something wrong,” he states, hoping his usual keen intuition is enough for you not question this. He doubts you’d believe him if he ever told you the very color red led him to this moment.

You deny his claims, fingers firm on the knob. “I told you yesterday that it was nothing.”

“No. You’re not alright, Y/n.” His calloused hands cup your face, tilting up to guide you to his eyes—eyes that appear just as gray to you as they are to him. You stare into them, unable to reply at how unyielding he is toward your condition.

Despite the homologous grayscale of colors, Shinsou can see it all. He sees the stress carried in your eyes, down to the tension in your face that tires from feigning smiles every day. He knows you’re hurting just keeping up the withering cracks of your fortitude. Yet you can’t stop yourself from picking up your porcelain again, trying to mend them with the cruddy glue that is your mentality. If you continue this, you’d surely fall apart into too many pieces to put back together.

“Please, talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

You have no idea how much those words have an effect on you. Not until you’re suddenly weeping in front of him, tears spilling down your eyes as your throat begins to sunder into sobs. All he can do is offer you the solace of his warm embrace as he tugs your arm so your form is drawn into his body. He feels the tears prickle into his shirt, wetness seeping into his skin, but he doesn’t care. Shinsou holds you in his arms and pats against your hair gently, treating you like you are delicate earthenware bound to break as you tremble.

“I-I’m just s-so tired, and stressed, and I-I don’t know w-what to do s-s-sometimes,” you sob between words, voice muffled into his chest. Shinsou hushes you softly, unwavering in warmth.

“It’s okay. I know. You can let it all out, I’m here for you,” he assures firmly. The two of you stay there in that position for some time, your cries isolated in the empty expanse of the hallway with the dormitory vacant except for yourselves. When they begin to die down, Shinsou perceives his vision changing again.

This time, what greets him is a muted blue. The shade is not far off from the steely grays he’s accustomed to, but distinguishable enough for him to notice the change. It’s a sad color that reminds him of tears and lonely clouds.

Shinsou glimpses down at you, your body finally still against him, yet he can tell your aches are far from healed.

You sniffle, backing away when you realize you’re still nuzzled into his chest, now stained with damp patches on his white button-up. He gives you your space, smoothing the strands of your hair one last time before he parts. Though he makes an effort to hold your hand as your other rubs the hot wetness away from your puffy eyes.

“You… alright?” he asks, lightly squeezing your fingertips. You don’t give him much, just a slow, descending nod that is enough for him to continue gingerly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your initial hesitance almost makes him retract his question, afraid that he may have poked further than was comfortable, but you mitigate that thought with another nod, allowing him inside your dorm room.

When your door clicks to a close, you lean against it and watch as the taller boy stands aimlessly in the middle of the room.

“Shinsou?” you call, and he perks up.

“Yeah?”

“How did you know... what was going on?” you ask, voice drawing out across your room quietly.

For once, Shinsou doesn’t have an answer. He stands there, silent, unable to approach your question with a clear response. But there’s a lingering voice in his head telling him that he knows what led him to you deep down.

The colors.

He realizes the red enveloping his vision this entire time was connected to you. From waking up, glimpsing at your desk, to mentioning any thought of you, the color only ever intensified. And it calmed down at the very moment you opened your door, turning blue from your sadness washing in waves before him.

Shinsou draws in a breath of air. He’s not sure how to relay this notion in any other way than the words that cross his mind.

I think you might be my soulmate.

His heart suddenly flutters at the mere inkling of the words spoken in his head. It sounds almost far-fetched, reminding him of romantic fairy tales narrated in storybooks. Still, he can’t conjure any other resolution than this—can’t find any explanation for these connections of colors that bind your consciousness to him.

A small, inner part in him desires to blurt this out to you, let it be known of the fate stringing your pinkies together through the pigments painted on his canvas. But staring back into your swollen, tired eyes, he knows he can’t do that right now. What you need is for him to be by your side and help you recollect your thoughts. Learning about the possibility that you’re his soulmate is likely the last thing you want to hear in your condition.

He shakes his head, brows knitting together. “I’m not entirely sure about it myself,” he starts warily, coming closer to reach out for your hand again, “but all I know is that whatever happened led me here to you. Told me when you were at your weakest.” Shinsou twines your fingers together, lightly pulling you away from the door and toward the middle of the room. “And that was enough for me to come.”

When the comforting words depart his mouth, he swears that in an infinitesimal moment, those grays of his canvas spatter with droplets of color as he gazes down at you with only compassion in his eyes. That his black and white world transforms into that rumored paradise of beautiful hues for just a second until in the next blink, they’re gone.

He doesn’t know what to make of it, but it’s sufficient for him that whenever he glimmers into your eyes, colors are lying in wake underneath the monochrome. So he clutches your hand in his, allowing you to spill your thoughts out to relieve them off your shoulders as he hopes that one day, you and him can walk in tandem together into the color.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnhabookclub #bnha scenarios #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou imagine #shinsou scenarios #mha x reader

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