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robthegoodfellow · 2 years

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Billy and Steve get into an argument about Billy’s behavior—he baited Jason Carver until Carver punched him in the face—and Billy has the shattering realization that he’s been zeroing in on Carver in particular because he reminds Billy of Neil—just like how so many of his destructive behaviors are all about Neil. Sensing he’s about to spiral and not wanting to lash out further at Steve, he tries to leave.

“I just—don’t want you getting hurt,” Harrington insisted.

“Noted. Roger that,” he said, bitingly, and Harrington glared, losing patience. Billy tried to press Pause. Didn’t know why he was being so—“Sorry.” He breathed in. Out. “I should go. M’all screwy—I don’t wanna be a dick. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to—” Harrington looked gutted, and Billy couldn’t stand that, rounded the counter before he knew it. Insinuated himself between long legs, wrapped himself around Harrington’s torso and got an affirming squeeze in return. “Don’t care if you’re being a dick,” Harrington mumbled.

“I care,” Billy said, and stalled out there. He’d been on such a good stretch for a while—hadn’t felt like this in… weeks? This riotous inner mess pulling him in different directions, thrumming in that panicky, aimless way that demanded some kind of release, that sometimes ended in explosions if he couldn’t redirect it. Numb it. Drown it.

It wasn’t altogether unprecedented, periods of relative peace. Of even-keeled almost-normalcy. For one thing, Neil always lay off a bit during basketball season—the one time of year when he deemed Billy marginally less of a fuckup—so there was less to rock the emotional boat, those months. And it helped to have a Neil-approved reason to be out of the house a lot. So yeah—nothing had really sent him spiraling.

But now it was back: that roiling mass just below the surface—a subconscious disturbance that was liable to boil over at a moment’s notice, and he didn’t want to accidentally burn anyone if it did, least of all Harrington. It was partly the fight with Carver, and his mixed-up feelings about it, partly the crummy resentment that came with uncovering the roots of yet another warped behavior and finding they sprouted directly from Neil. Like Billy was a dumb puppet laboring under the delusion that he was a real boy, when really every jerk of his rotten strings was dear old dad.

Huge, heaving sigh, so big Billy could feel the lungs expand and contract within his hold. Harrington tipped his head back, and Billy obligingly dipped down for a kiss, tried to convey through the gentle press of lips that they were okay—but he couldn’t quite repress a fine tremor.

“I care,” he said again, drawing back, trying to step away. Big warm hands framed his face, and he stilled, looked up to find Harrington evaluating him closely.

“By ‘screwy,’ do you mean like that day we did this?” His pinky brushed the hoop in Billy’s right earlobe. “Because I gave you my number for reason.” A small, stern smile. “Remember?”

Billy did. It was the fourth phone number he’d ever memorized—after his home phone, his grandparents’ place, and Cherry Lane. He’d mentally placed the Harrington landline in the empty category that had once belonged to Carlsbad: In Case of Emergency. He nodded in answer to both questions.

“So,” Harrington said, leading. His thumbs stroked Billy’s cheeks, under his eyes. “Don’t go. Tell me what you—need.”

Everything went tight: Billy’s throat, his lungs, every muscle. Tight and trembling. “I don’t know,” he whispered through gritted teeth. The tingle behind his nose heralded tears. “I can’t—”

It was all a jumble. Knew he’d half intended to go home and instigate something: deliberately wake the monster, walk into Neil’s backhand, maybe add some symmetry to the bruise already blooming. You know, seize some punishment now rather than wait who knows how long for the consequences of his actions. But there was a competing impulse to stay as far away from his puppet-master as possible—to give himself over to some other force, whether human or substance, because… was being in control even an option when so much of what Billy did was a reaction to… him? And so—wouldn’t it be better… to pick who or what was pulling his strings? To at least have that reprieve?

“Can’t—couldn’t you?” Billy asked, breathy and begging, resting more of his weight in Harrington’s hands. “Tell me? What I need? What to do?”

Somehow, Harrington didn’t look confused by that—just considering, cautious. Probably helped that he already knew Billy sometimes liked being ordered around during sex, but that had only ever been little commands here and there, a cheeky means of teasing more than anything. Not quite—as all-encompassing as this.

Harrington slowly pushed back on him until he was standing upright, let his hands fall to Billy’s jittery shoulders.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like something,” Harrington said. It wasn’t a question, but Billy nodded anyway. “Okay.”

Already Billy was buzzing in anticipation—primed to drop to his knees, or strip and bend over. Whatever mind-wiping method was on offer, he’d take it.

Harrington was chewing on his lip, lost in thought. Then he took Billy’s hand, guided him back so he could stand up. Didn’t lace their fingers together like usual, but sort of—grabbed his palm. Held it between them.

“Come on,” he said. Then, in the tone of someone testing a theory: “Past your bedtime, baby.”

Oh. Billy’s eyes went glassy as everything froze. He thought they were gonna—fuck. Not—whatever this was.

“Okay?” Harrington checked.

Billy cleared his throat, blinked till his brain rebooted. “Yeah,” he managed.

Before leading him by the hand out of the kitchen, Harrington asked if he needed anything—Was he hungry? Thirsty? Billy stared, blank, still finding his footing.

“My head,” he said, at last. “Hurts.”

They went to the medicine cabinet. He downed some Advil with the water Harrington gave him in a little Dixie cup.

Harrington kept firm hold of his hand up the stairs, and every step was a toss-up on whether Billy was gonna laugh or cry. His insides had gone fuzzy—staticky and soft. Then he was in the hallway bathroom brushing his teeth because Harrington had told him to, because Harrington would be back soon to check. Unbidden, he’d been silently running through the ABC song—keep brushing till you get to Z, Billy Bear.

He spit, wiped his mouth on a damp washcloth, his burning eyes.

Harrington smiled when he returned, murmured, “Good job,” and herded him down the hall, toward the door at the end, while good job, good job ran on a loop in Billy’s ears. Beyond the door lay a dim cavernous space—the master bedroom. The light from the hallway and the roaring en suite illuminated a massive four poster bed, gleaming dark wood bureau and wardrobe, a chaise lounge by the window…

Not allowed, he thought, nonsensically. Not allowed to be here.

Steam billowed from the adjoining bathroom, the hard surfaces resounding with the thunderous deluge of multiple taps, and the sound shot him back to—god, when he was… eight? Had it been almost ten years since he’d had a bath?

Since someone had given him a bath? Since his mother had?

He stopped a few feet from the threshold, suddenly unsure whether he wanted to…

Harrington came around to his front, ran reassuring hands up and down slack arms.

“All right?” he asked.

Billy followed the arcs of steam curling as they touched the chilly dark. “Are we not gonna…?”

“I wanna take care of you,” said Harrington. On the upsweep, he continued onward, linked his fingers behind Billy’s neck. “Let me.”

“Like this?” Because why would he—want to?

“Like this,” he confirmed. His eyes were warm—dark and steady and sure.

Billy nodded, and Harrington drew him into the golden glow, closed the door behind them. The air was humid, sticky—and between one blink and the next, the lights had softened, only the fixture over the sinks left on.

There was a shower stall to his left, but it was silent and still—all the noise and vapor poured from the opposite corner, where a shining jacuzzi set into this white marble platform was filling up under the onslaught of a pair of ornate faucets.

Harrington helped him get undressed, even knelt to peel off his socks. Billy snuck a glance at the vanity, beheld himself standing there—his broad shoulders, the cut of his pecs, his dick hanging limp from a tawny thatch of pubes.

Lifted his foot, and his foot was bare. Put it down on cold tile.

The definition of his abs, the curve of his biceps, the purple ringing round a socket the way it had so many times before. Then the image split and split and split—the compounding eye view of a bug—and he remembered, in his mother’s voice, the cadence she’d had when reading aloud:

I am still every age that I have been. Because I was once a child, I am always a child… to forget is a form of suicide.

Lifted his foot, and his foot was bare. Put it down on cold tile.

What book had it been? She was at the kitchen table while he stirred the soup. Had paused, looked at him, read it again. Don’t forget that, she’d said. Don’t forget that, Bear.

When Harrington stood, Billy’s face was wet.

He’d forgotten it. And usually his memory was so good. Too good.

“Ready?” Harrington asked, holding out his hand.

Billy sniffed, took it in that childlike grasp from before.

Heeded words of warning as he stepped, awkward, into the water, as he lowered himself into the bubbling currents of the jets. The heat enveloped him, touched every part with liquid sun, and he let out a long unwinding breath. His ass touched the smooth bottom, and Harrington gestured him toward the built-in headrest, where a jet waited to pummel every knot out of his lower back. Billy groaned, heard a chuckle.

“Good, huh?” Harrington crouched by the lip, testing the water.

Billy wiped a hand down his face, rinsing the salt tracks from his cheeks. “Been holding out on me, Harrington.” Eyed him under heavy lids, drowsy in the lulling warmth. “Really not gonna join me?”

The responding smile was so soft that Billy fought not to look away—managed not to blink until Harrington turned his attention to the taps, shutting them off, plunging them into an abrupt, echoing quiet.

“No,” he said, pushing up off of the marble to stand. “Isn’t about that. Just relax.”

Billy sighed, closing his eyes. He heard the thump and creak of cabinet doors, the thunk of items deposited by his head, but he was too droopy all over to investigate—totally al dente. So remote that he sensed Harrington nearby as though through a fog. A palm rested on his brow, smoothed the hair off his forehead.

“Still awake, baby?”

Billy swallowed—wondered why baby was different than babe, why it stung but made him wanna lean into it all the same. He nodded.

“Can you sit up?” At Billy’s whine, he chuckled again. “Only for a bit. C’mon.” He wedged a hand under Billy’s shoulder, and with an aggrieved grunt Billy was levered upright. The water sloshed, settled back to a simmer.

Harrington had pushed his sleeves up, perched himself on the marble ledge next to an array of… fancy-pants body wash and hair products. Considering that Billy was but a noodle, cooked tender by the buffeting current, it was no wonder that, when Harrington arched an eyebrow, it took him a couple beats to put two and two together. But when he did…

His face flushed. Like he was—too big for his skin, heart pounding loud. Harrington waited placidly until Billy nodded, then cupped his nape, told him to lay back. Billy didn’t speak, too focused on his breathing; tilted until he dipped like a ladle, the hot water exquisite, lapping his temples, his forehead, the hinge of his jaw. Shivered when he sat up and streams ran down his skin, dark tendrils plastered to his neck. Harrington gave him a sudsy washcloth then patted the side of the tub by his hip, and Billy shifted so his back was against the smooth surface.

A whisper, warm in his ear: “This okay?”

Billy filled in the rest—that I’m behind you?—and breathed out a broken laugh. “Yeah.” His only associations here were Ma. Just her.

While he scrubbed at his pits, his crotch, strong soapy fingers massaged his scalp, circling firm to work up a lather, and holy fuck, he did not recall it feeling this good as a kid. Damn near divine. Like, so good his dick was taking an interest—until, that is, he noticed some familiar movements up there… distinctly sculpting.

“Are you giving me a mohawk?”

“Maybe.”

Billy turned to level a joking glare at his tormenter, and Harrington let out a giggle.

“Looks good on you,” he said, then leaned over to fill up a plastic cup with fresh water from the faucet. “Tip your head back, baby.”

Billy did, eyes slipping shut, and didn’t mind at all when it took a couple cascades of water—so hot, but not too hot—to wash it out. Pretended it was cleansing him of more than just soap suds.

Harrington offered conditioner, and Billy’s eager nod made him laugh.

When at last Harrington got up to put the supplies away, Billy unfolded, reacquainting himself with the best jet by the headrest, and thought he’d never felt so… pristine. Weightless. A weird buoyancy in the chest rather than floaty in the brain, as when Harrington mind-wiped him the usual way. Like… out, damned spot. And it was out.

Drifting as he was, it took him a moment to realize Harrington had sat on the tile floor, right where Billy had draped an arm… and how could he resist? Harrington hummed when sluggish fingers sank into his hair, craned for better access, and even this spacey, Billy knew what that meant—gathered a fist of brown locks and lightly squeezed. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel the pull.

“How’d you know?” Billy asked, quiet over the bubbling jets. “To do all this?”

Harrington’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Gloria,” he said. “Nanny number two. Had this whole—bedtime routine. Brush, bath, story. It was the best.”

After a pause, hoping he’d keep going, Billy prodded. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harrington snorted. “She would sing, tuck me in the right way… They let her go when I was—six, maybe? Seven? And nanny number three said I was old enough for showers, so…” He shrugged.

Billy combed his fingers through silky strands, a slow sweeping arc. “No more songs? Stories?”

“She made me brush my teeth, still.”

God, that tone. It was a Harrington specialty—this jaunty, blithe bitterness—and it stabbed Billy every time.

“Babe,” he said, tugging, and when that didn’t work: “Baby.”

“You’re baby,” Harrington said, finally looking over his shoulder. Billy tugged again, and Harrington sighed, shifted into a kneeling crouch, his arms crossed on the ledge. Billy curled forward, mirroring him.

“We can both be,” he said. “You think I don’t wanna take care you, too?”

Harrington’s mouth twitched, side to side, gaze glued to the seam between fiberglass and marble.

And that… that silence was deafening—so damning that something sprang loose, and Billy was murmuring hey, reaching to tip Harrington’s chin, coax his eyes up. They shone, glimmering in the half light. And Billy saw him, in there—the child inside.

“I—” Billy choked on a painful lump. Took a beat to gulp it down. “I do. Course I do.”

Harrington didn’t say anything—couldn’t. Billy watched nostrils flare, his throat seize, the sheen pool at his lashes. Remembered that night when Harrington told him he could cry if he needed to.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can… tell me.”

It wasn’t like Billy, the way Harrington caved in. He smiled, for one thing—this ghastly crooked baring of teeth—and a few tears spilled over rictus cheeks. Just a few before he ran dry. Gasped a punctured laugh.

“Christ, I used to…” Shook his head, unfocused—a million miles off. “I used to do the routine with my bear. After she left. I’d help him brush his teeth and pretend to give him a bath in the sink and I’d read to him but I couldn’t really read so I’d just make stuff up based on the pictures…”

Billy blinked away his own prickle of tears and quirked trembling lips. “That explains it, then—why you were so good at this. You had practice.”

Harrington chuckled wetly, propped his head on his hand. “Guess so.”

He was trying—Billy was trying so hard not to picture it… a little kid with a brown mop of hair, tucking his teddy into bed, play-acting what he wanted for himself but wasn’t getting anymore.

A phantom kiss on his forehead, a sense memory from way deep in the archives, and before he knew it, he’d leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harrington’s brow—clumsy, catching half skin and half hair.

He sank back down in the water, chin pillowed on his wrist, and when their eyes locked, something had—shifted. Thought about how they weren’t each other’s everything but were… some things.

Things they hadn’t been able to name.

“I’ll be your baby,” he said. “And you’ll be mine?”

The slope of Harrington’s shoulder rose and fell, the heave of release—relief. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. He nodded.

full chapter

#swear i’m a total dick in real life #dunno where all this soft angsty stuff is coming from #my unresolved childhood trauma???#anyway #billy sometimes likes being told what to do #in a sexy way #this is not that #this is being told what to do #in a let me give you the TLC you haven’t had in too long ya big baby #kinda way #dunno how to tag this #mild d/s?#like the mildest of mild salsa #no heat all sweet #harringrove #preview snippet #spin me right round

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lizziesribbons · 4 months

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So badly |

PAIRING: RICH STEPMOM! WANDA X FEM! READER

summary: Wanda is your dad's new wife and an incredibly talented business woman, you always liked her but you felt as if she didn't feel the same way about you, she was always cold with you truth be told you were too innocent to know what the real intentions behind the coldness was.

warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** ****CONTAINS SMUT LOTS OF SMUT****** degradation kink, hair pulling, praising, angst if you squint, mommy kink, r being head over heels in love with Wanda, Wanda being mean too mean but hot. SO HOT. squirting muahahaha, multiple orgasms, crazy crazy gay peOple, everyone's gay y'all are gay, gay gay gay. I need to drown in holy water cuz um yea.

author's note: I changed EVERYTHING CHANGED I don't know if y'all even know who I am but like anyways idek if this is gonna be a thing I just got an idea and I wrote it in my notes and now I'm posting here ‼️

Word count: 2.1k

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Wanda maximoff.

She was an intimidating woman. even her name is hot? When your dad first introduced her you immediately fell in love whenever she was around you were always squirming in her gaze, she was just too pretty too perfect. Too good for your dad. Your dad wasn't the best man in the world he was alright, he was always working always travelling he didn't have time for you or anything else that's why you were shocked when he brought her. Wanda.

Wanda was a business woman too. A successful one indeed, She had 2 twins Tommy and billy, who you instantly grew to love, you wondered how Wanda handled all of it, A husband, A business and still making enough time for her kids, she was like a super mom there was no single doubt her kids loved her. And she loved them.

Your dad was barely home so it was always just you Wanda and the twins, you never felt like Wanda liked you whenever you would try talking to her she would give you cold responses, always looking into your soul like she was angry at you. She would constantly taunt you whenever you would go outside with your friends and come home too late, or when you wore something a little too revealing. Some would say she was possessive you just thought of it as her being her grumpy self

but what you didn't know, Wanda wanted you. Every second of every day she thought about you but she knew it was wrong. so she would put up this act to hide her secret. her dirty little secret, no one except Wanda knew what kind of thoughts ran through her mind, what she did at night thinking about you when her husband was asleep beside her.

she thinks about how her fingers would feel inside you, making you scream her name, whispering all kinds of dirty things in your sweet little ears

how good it would feel to fuck you with her strap until you couldn't take it anymore, she often gets off thinking about you but you weren't aware of any of it. She sometimes thought you knew cause of how you would bend over in front of her wearing the most smallest skirts possible but she knew you were just as innocent as you look, she also knew about the crush you have on her, it was too obvious with how you would look inside her shirt every time she bent down to pick something, how quickly you would respond every time she calls for you, how flustered you would get when she's around. she wasn't blind she could see right through you.

You were always home nowadays as your college was off and your friends were either on vacation with their family or they just didn't have time. Wanda had a business event today on which she asked you to come with her as the twins were at their dad's and you would be home alone, she even picked up an outfit for you, it was a cute black dress simple and elegant not too small just how Wanda liked. She was so sweet with you today. too sweet. even offered to make your hair and do your makeup and you let her. cuz how could you deny it? you let her dress you up like you were her personal doll she gave you a kiss on the cheek that made you blush so hard Wanda immediately noticed and smirked.

the car ride from the house to where the event was being held was filled with tension. Wanda's eyes were constantly on you eating you up she noticed the way you clenched your thighs under her gaze and how you shied away every time you two would make eye contact, when you reached the destination, Wanda opened the door for you holding out her hand to you. Your fingers intertwined with hers following her between the crowd of people.

You insisted on staying behind as she went on the red carpet. admiring her you noticed how beautiful Wanda really is, she is hand-crafted by the gods you wondered how it would feel to touch her. every inch of her body you wanted to kiss her so bad the urge to do it was strong. Wanda noticed, Ofc she noticed she smirked knowing your gaze was on her and all her attention too, you looked at her coming back to you as you straightened your back and smiled at her, she held you by your waist and told you "I want you to meet some people malaysh" the nickname made you weak. you just wanted to fall on your knees and beg Wanda but you couldn't.

After meeting those people Wanda left you alone to go and sort some business deal you didn't care about. Wanda saw you laughing and chatting with some people she thought it was nice you were getting along well, until. she saw this girl put her hand on your thigh and getting too touchy. Wanda felt something burst inside her she interrupted the conversation she was having came behind you and pulled you back from your waist making you push yourself into her crotch.

Wanda looked at the girl and raised her eyebrows, the girl was out of there in a second. It was hot. so hot the power Wanda holds, you were about to ask what that was when suddenly you felt her fingers hold your ass tightly as she whispered in your ear "Stop flirting with every person you see just to get my attention" Your legs failed you as you moan slowly in wanda's grasp, her hold was bruising on you as she whispered again "don't be a whore now, go wait in the car I'll be there in a bit"

as you were waiting for her impatiently in the car and afraid of what to expect next, you heard the car door open and Wanda got in, you didn't say anything. not even a word. her too. the car ride was silent. so silent you could even hear your heartbeat and it was fast. you were sure Wanda heard it

after getting home Wanda softly told you to go and wait in her bedroom like a good girl and you did. not cuz you were a patient woman no no no you were the most impatient girl in the world according to Wanda but you just wanted to make her happy.

after a bit she came in. You saw a bulge inside her pants. looking up at her, sitting on the bed on all your fours she came up to you and held your jaw softly

"you look so good like that, on mommy's bed like a good little slut" Wanda wouldn't be at fault if she thought you came right there, and then because of the moan you let out on the nickname Wanda referred to herself as. but she shrugged it off only smirking at the sight

"strip. slowly." you start striping taking off your dress first, Wanda's eyes on you as she starts undressing herself too making you gasp at the sight of her.

"you're so beautiful," you said as you worshipped her body just by your eyes, giving herself a moment or two to smile and blush at your compliment, she said sternly "Less talking, let's put that mouth to better use yeah?"

she took off her pants and underwear revealing a scarlet strap attached to her as you look at it and drool "Open up show mommy how good of a slut you can be" she said as you open your mouth tongue out, she guide the strap inside your mouth not even half of it and you were already gagging, it was bigger than anything you've taken before but Wanda didn't care, your gags and whimper were music to her ears.

losing herself in the pleasure she started thrusting inside your mouth as you sat there drooling, she threw a sadistic smile your way and said "I think we just found the perfect way to keep your mouth shut"

Wanda pulls out suddenly, your face covered in sweat and tears, and lays down on the bed

"come here ride my strap," she said patting her lap, gasping for air your breath shaky from the previous encounter you said

"y yes mommy"

slowly, you lower yourself onto her strap, your eyes locked with hers as you whispered "It's too big"

Wanda pouted her lips with fake pity "Aw is it?" you nodded as she looked at you "Is it too big for my little whore huh?" you nodded again not breaking eye contact

"fucking say it then. you can speak" Wanda said sternly placing a sharp slap on your ass, just as you were about to say Wanda force your hips down onto her strap "Too late" You bit your lip feeling her strap penetrate deeper into your wet slit

"Mommy hurts please ah" moans and gasps. it was all you could let out as Wanda ignored all of it and thrust your hips up and down on her strap, tits bouncing with the force.

your body trembling as you take her deeper inside you, suddenly you feel a sharp slap against your tits just as a humiliating spit was delivered on your face, spit drips from your mouth onto your chest as she slaps your tits repeatedly

"Mommy too much-gonna cum please" you plead at her "Come for mommy honey let it out" You came just as soon as those words left her mouth, she didn't stop. turning you guys around so she was on top she started thrusting with all her might as the bed started moving

"you know how badly mommy wanted to fuck that pussy from the very first time she saw you huh?" she whispered in your ear making you moan as she kept thursting "How I touched myself at the thought of being inside you fucking you so deep your legs wouldn't work for weeks? it was a torture not being able to fuck you every moment I saw you I just wanted to bend you over and take you" The dirty confessions only added fuel to the fire as you were already close

"please Mommy" you said weakly as she thoroughly fucked you, the room filling with noises of skin slapping together, "Please what? say it, baby"

"please I'm gonna cum again" you say looking up at her, "cum again for me then you don't need my permission"

just as you were about to cum she reaches down to rub your clit "NO PLEASE NO!" was the last thing you said when you lost control completely and squirted everywhere, not knowing what happened you looked at Wanda who was smirking smugly as she pulled out of you slowly and took off the strap throwing it down the bed

"Mommy I've never done that I'm sorry I don't know what happened" Wanda looked you down with admiration as she cooed cupping your face "Oh baby no that's okay you did good it was so good" she softly kissed you, leaving small kisses down your neck to your stomach until she reached between your legs

"no too much, can't." you tried squirming away but her strong hands held you in place "Just trust me" She raised her eyebrows and scanned your face for any hesitations as she dived down and carefully cleaned you up making sure not to overstimulate you

she sat back up "You taste so good", blushing at her compliment you muttered a "thank you"

"so adorable" Taking you in her arms and holding you against her she whispered sweet nothings into your ear through the whole time until you fell asleep in her arms, she looked at you knowing you were hers now. for forever.

#wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen x y/n #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff smut #elizabeth olsen #marvel #marvel smut #smut #gxg #gay

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deadghosy · 1 month

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HAZBIN HOTEL X ALBERT/FLAMINGO! READER

prompt: after causing chaos in life is paradise, you accidentally clicked the wrong “alt” button.

Oh wow- listen…I’m in my Albert phase guys…so yeah. ANYWAYSSS-

You just got done making your Roblox video as you wanted to exit out of it. You were going for the alt + 4 button only for the alt to look red and shine into your face. The light blinding your sight made you scream as you opened your eyes to see you are in a new area.

…. “Am I in hell…” you said in a high pitch voice. You panicked out a pitch scream gaining weird looks from the sinners. You still kept your human look but as you screamed, the control panel of admins show up. You stopped screaming immediately with an “oh.” And smiled evily

After wrecking most of the pride ring, you felt tired. Seeing an advertisement on tv about a hotel that redeems sinners, you thought maybe you could do some good here. So you pulled out a keyboard and type to teleport to the said hotel

You can go into the wrath, pride, and gluttony ring. It’s pretty real as you have the wrath to destroy things when pissed off. You’re prideful that you can’t be destroyed, and you have the gluttony to eat. A lot.

I can see you just having a small flamingo demon pet following you around. Literally you would make it bite and stab people. You taught it how to do the billy bounce.

The crew most definitely thought you were schizophrenic because you talk out loud as if you were talking to someone

BIG HEADCANNON THAT YOU HAVE ZOOMIES AROUND THE HOTEL😭

“I start stabbing, now that the lights are out?” “Albert/Reader, please no.” Charlie says holding your arms down. The power went out and you were craving blood.

You’re just a little gremlin :D

Imagine how chaotic it was to not fling someone out of the hotel for fun 😭 LMAO A SINNER FLINGING ACROSS THE WHOLE PENTAGRAM.

“I’m taking away their happiness in a good way!” You say smiling as you drag a resident away from Charlie who seems traumatized. You were like an alastor 0.2 but more happy actually.

LMAO YOU HAVING A BAN HAMMER SO WHEN A RESIDENT IS BEING AN ASSHOLE YOU JUST SLAM THE HAMMER ON THEIR HEAD WITH A “BOOP”

I can imagine you having the same physique as the og Albert. Literally one minute you look like your animal crossing character, and the next thing they know you are some buff Florida man.

“I’m going to make them regret being born.” You said as you clicked an admin that made your skin black with red eyes. The angels came towards you as your cut their heads off.

The whole cast was in shocked seeing a human like you being so powerful with just a panel no one can touch.

“Being a baby will not prevent me from shooting you.” You said jokingly as this toddler was winning uno. The mother ran away with her child as you screamed out uno.

Angel started to rant about what he does for his job and how he basically seller his soul to this moth porn demon. After he told you things what the demon does to Angel. You snapped.

“BITCH I WILL SHOOT YOU!” Yells reader as they cocked their gun. Basically the whole crew has to hold you back as Valentino is pissing himself.

Vox didn’t even know who you were until Valentino started having nightmares and random shadows in his room. (The shadows were you lol) Vox had to look you up and try to find who tf you were. You were a YouTuber. That all it showed up on his feed as he scoffs.

Husk has no opinion on you. He only knows you as that guy with a flamingo. He would sometimes side eye you while you do crazy shit. But matter of fact you two are chill.

“We have different ways of expressing ourselves..” you say to Angel trying to comfort him. “I like this way, he can’t defend himself. And I like that.” You say shooting down a sinner while in battle. Angel dust just side eyes you as if you were actually crazy.

You’re not allowed to go into turf war with him no more.

Velvette has no legit problems with you. Dead ass you and her might be fashion partners. HAVE YOU SEEN ALBERT’S DRIP ON INSTA?! That MAN IS GOOD!

You have so much wanted posters, even you brag to others at how cool you look while destroying someone’s house. All because you were bored.

Charlie is mostly worried for your mental health while Vaggie just knows that you aren’t really the most mental stable in the group.

“STOP DOING THAT! STOP CRYING! What are you a baby?!” You say while smacking away a whole imp baby that was crying beside you on the merry-go-round

Charlie’s eyes widen at what you did. You were like a man child.

I can headcannon you deadass bombed the Vees tower out of pettiness. It was just funny seeing Vox shocked to his damn boots that his home was now gone.

Lucifer made you a duck flamingo cause of how he was trying to be nice to you. He knew you wasn’t a sinner or an angel of sorts. But you were a human that he never seen before. He probably makes you some damn pancakes if you want them.

Lucifer would probably ask if you have a flamingo demon form because you told the crew that you go by flamingo and Albert. You just stood there confused to what this short man was saying. But you just nodded trying to see if you could actually turn into a flamingo.

Headcannon on you just actually helping around by just replacing and changing furniture. You help Charlie with trust exercises as the resident are just confuse at a human being here.

“WHO needs powers, when you have a gun!” You yell excited pulling out a gun from your admin control. You shot downa sinner who was trying to fight you. Alastor just doesn’t see why how your “guns” are more powerful. They don’t even have angelic metal.

Carmilla carmine had seen how you legit shot an angel down with a simple looking gun. It was insane but amazing. She definitely called you down to her place so she can see what your bullets are made out of.

Imagine how you basically see people’s/sinner’s names as if it was a name tag aka username. You would go around saying their name out loud as they look at you scared and crazy. “Hello Hakka!” “How you know my name?!!!!” 😕

Rosie adores you, you may be man child that’s like a gremlin. But you are so sweet and helping. Alastor made you meet her and honestly, it was a great meet and greet. Honestly 10/10.

Headcannon on you and Niffty both killing bugs together. You use your ban gun as Niffty uses a sewing needle. This sweet girl made you a big crown, you better appreciate it.

Alastor had messed with your food making you pissed off. It was the end of the day and you hadn’t eat anything due to not taking care of yourself much. So your reaction was justified when you see alastor’s grins widening.

“I hope you choke on your next meal.” You say as your voice had suddenly boomed across the hotel. It was like as if your mic boosted it, but you don’t have one.

You and Alastor have like a sibling relationship as you two just want to watch people suffer. Literally it’s funny as hell when it’s that one Xbox meme.😭

“MOM SAYS ITS MY TURN TO CAUSE SUFFERING!” You say trying to get over Alastor’s tall body as he causes chaos in the pentagram city.

Sir Pentious didn’t like you at all. Like he was actually scared at his crazy and psychotic you are at times. But when he saw how calm and laid back you actually were. He actually started to warm up close to you.

The egg boiz follow you around asking if your pet flamingo could play with them. It was so cute as they play with your pet flamingo.

Cherri absolutely loves you and your destructive behavior. Literally you two are a deadly duo cause you would give her some of your admin powers and take it back.

You once actually set up a limb store, literally you were getting that money✨😈 you had chopped off so much limbs got your deer customers.

I can see you actually taking people’s souls lol. You just take souls for fun and not for contract which leaves some overlords confused and scared of your powers.

Heaven would be scared of you personally. Like you are such a menace, sera sent your ass back to hell. Your human appearance was still the same tho lol.

Adam and you, beef on sight. “Why do you even have that pink bird? What are you, ret@rded?” “No but your mother is.” You said back while flipping him off.

Sera doesn’t like you. Your chaotic energy and your “evil” doing are not prohibited in paradise. She might tell Big G about how a human is in hell in perfect condition.

Emily heard about your presence by sera, she wanted to meet you but then again. You are back in hell. But she hopes to meet you one day.

See, me personally you would rob a bank for fun and then give it to some homeless imps in the wrath ring. It’s just you doing random shit while bored.

I can imagine you turning someone into the hulk. You deadass have so much power that it’s concerning and crazy for the hotel crew and rest of hell. You have alot of powers and you can turn people into some green buff human?!?

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 days

Text

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

User

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #the scarlet witch x fem!reader #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch

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nelkcats · 9 months

Text

Refuge

Danny was not retired, technically he came when people needed him, he helped or protected them as the case may be. It just turned out that over the years they stopped needing him.

And that was fine, it meant humanity could take care of itself, it meant they were safe. That was what had to matter, no matter that deep down, the halfa was hurt by the information.

It was harder to accept change when you weren't part of it. Danny was immortal, eternal, and powerful, things that no longer fit the world. Not with all the heroes and wizards running around, not with Amity Park fading away, becoming nothing more than a part of his memories.

He fit in perfectly in the Realms, sure, but he knew that if he stayed there too long he'd stop feeling human, and that was dangerous.

So, no, Danny wasn't retired. But he lived in a simple house in Metropolis, though sometimes he got tired of Superman being able to hear literally everything and moved to his house in Fawcett. He used to switch between the two houses frequently, not that it was difficult since he had figured out how to make portals.

He had a few friends, like the orphan boy who lived at the train station and Conner, a teenager who sometimes just needed a house to stay in when he couldn't stand his father.

Neither Conner nor Billy minded his age, which was comforting, although they both got curious when he visited the other house. Danny didn't know how to explain that Eternity Rock and Superman made him nervous if he stayed too long (he didn't like feeling watched), so he just shrugged and told them he had two houses.

Neither of the kids understood but they accepted it. They both had a habit of calling him "Uncle", Danny thought it was odd, given that his appearance wasn't exactly...adult, but it seemed they were comfortable with that, and he left them alone.

Apparently his house (occupied or not) had become a haven for them. Danny always greeted them with a sandwich, or cookies, even though he felt like a grandmother doing so. He smiled for the first time in years, feeling happy to fit into someone's life.

That's why it was quite disconcerting to find the Justice League outside his door asking him to join them. Danny chuckled internally, because the current heroes actually believed they could force him into something, but he accompanied them anyway.

Superboy and Captain Marvel scowled at the League as soon as they entered the Watchtower, when they were told they were bringing in a "dangerous individual" they didn't expect to see their unofficial uncle.

#dpxdc #immortal danny #he took care of Billy and Conner #Conner found his home after a fight with Clark #He thought it was weird when Danny just invited him in and taught him breathing exercises to calm down #Danny knows what it's like to deal with angsty teens because he's one forever #Well for that and for Jazz #Billy found Danny's house after he offered him food #Danny managed to cheat the system and buy two houses while they were not paying attention to him #Halfa powers and Vlad's fortune came in handy for something #dp x dc #dc x dp #Danny would change houses whenever he felt Superman or the Rock were paying too much attention to him #he hates being noticed when there is no reason #Billy and Conner know about each other even though Danny doesn't know that they know #They think it's fun to keep the secret #The conversation came up on a mission #The League sensed a large source of magical power and decided to interrogate it #Danny thinks it's cute that they think they can question him #He is the great source of power obviously #Uncle Danny

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runnning-outof-time · 3 months

Note

Hi K, I hope you’re doing well!🤍

I just wanted to make another request, if that’s alright with you. “I’ll break before I bend.” with Tommy?

Loving your blurbs by the way!

Thanks for sending this in, Reb @peakyswritings ! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it — I hope you like what I did with it! I decided to use my family from my Girl Dad series because it’s been too long since I’ve written for them (a thank you goes out to the anon who messed me a little while ago asking about them). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Just Some Puppy Love

Tommy Shelby x Reader (family from the Girl Dad series)

Warnings: none - just Tommy being overprotective of his daughter

Word Count: 922

Summary: Tommy’s unhappy about the fact that his eight year old daughter, Thea, has caught the interest of a boy in her class. (Y/N) tries to tell him that he’s overreacting.

“How was school today, darling?” (Y/N) asked her daughter as the she entered the home.

“It was great, mum!” Thea answered, a beaming smile on her face. “I even got to see Evie’s class during lunch!” she added, turning to look at her younger sister, who was nodding profusely.

“That sounds lovely,” (Y/N) smiled, thanking the family’s driver, who tipped his cap at her before returning to the vehicle. “Did anything else exciting happen?” she asked no girl in particular as the three went into the front room.

“Billy was being very nice to me! We played together at recess, and he even shared his purple crayon because mine was too little to use,” Thea was the first to speak up.

“Uncle Arthur’s Billy?” (Y/N) asked out of curiosity. She didn’t think that the cousins were in the same class, but she could have seen him during some other point in the day.

“No, Billy from my class,” Thea chirped while collecting her papers from her bookbag, “he’s always very nice to me. Sometimes we even hold hands and walk around the playground.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) drew out the word, nodding her head slowly. Thea said this in such a nonchalant way; like her mum was supposed to know about this beforehand.

“I scored the highest on my maths test today, mummy!” Evie jumped into the conversation, a beaming smile now present on her face.

“That’s lovely to hear, Evie,” (Y/N) smiled at the little girl while looking at Thea - who had now started on her homework - through the corner of her eye.

Boy, oh boy did she have something to tell Tommy this evening.

“The girls are all down?” Tommy asked as his wife entered his office later that night.

“Juniper fused a little, but they’re all asleep now,” she answered him with a smile as she made her way over to her usual spot on the chaise lounge. She couldn’t help but purse her lips to hide her smile as she finally made eye contact with him.

“What?” Tommy asked, catching onto her expression rather quickly.

“Nothin’,” she brushed him off, glancing down at her fingernails as she picked them.

“You can’t just send that expression my way and then say that it’s nothing,” he commented.

“Well I’ve just done that,” she countered.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” he demanded, his voice dropping to a low level.

“It’s nothing…” she started looking to him again, watching as his mouth opened to argue with the words she said. She continued before he could, “but you’re going to make a big deal over it.”

“Over what?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“Thea might have a boy in her class that fancies her.”

“No,” Tommy shot the idea down within seconds, “impossible.”

“Quite possible considering she told me all about it when she came home this afternoon,” (Y/N) commented. “It’s not a big deal,” she brushed the matter off then.

“Oh but it is. She’s only eight. The boys in school don’t need to be fancying her,” he insisted.

“She is eight, Tommy. There’s no harm in a little puppy love,” she flipped the narrative. Tommy didn’t seem to be buying it. “Besides, they’re not even…”

“Oi, I’m being serious here,” he cut into her defense, his eyes wide, “I’ll break before I bend on this one, (Y/N). No boys. Not for a long time.”

(Y/N) looked at her husband with pursed lips. The intense expression that he was wearing surely worked on his adversaries, but it did nothing to her. “You’re being dramatic about this,” she stated after a few moments had passed.

“I’m not,” he shook his head.

“You are,” she doubled down with a nod. “There’s no reason for a response like that. It’s not like she’s going to go and marry this boy tomorrow. They’re just holding hands on the playground and sharing crayons in class,” she explained the reality of the situation. One look in his direction told her that he wasn’t quite convinced. With a sigh, she stood from her chair. “I know…” she started, moving around his desk so that she could rest her hands on his shoulders, “she’s your first born…your little girl.”

“She is,” Tommy answered in a huff, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyes.

(Y/N) paused for a few beats, leaning down to rest her chin on top of his head as she looked at the photograph of their three girls that sat on his desk. “You don’t need to be worrying about this stuff right now,” she said in a soft voice as she clasped her hands together over his chest. She heard him sigh as he rested his head against her arm. A smile graced her lips as she thought of something to add, “you have another ten years, at least.”

“(Y/N). Don’t,” his voice was low, the two words coming out in a warning. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling anyway.

“I’m teasing you, Tommy,” she told him, pressing her lips to his hair.

“I know. But I still don’t appreciate it,” he answered her, his voice soft now as he turned his head and pressed a similar kiss to the skin of her arm.

(Y/N) smiled at the gesture. This wouldn’t be the last conversation about boys fancying their daughters that they would have. But she knew that Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure that his girls were safe and got the best.

*tags in reblogs so that they hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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ashwhowrites · 4 months

Note

Can I request some jealous! Eddie x cheerleader! reader? (Totally inspired to request bc of the Billy fic!) But what if Reader and Eddie had been dating for over a year and Reader is a cheerleader, and Eddie's jealous bc he always find Steve, Billy, Jason, and all those jocks flirting with reader (pretend this is B4 season 4) and once they were at Chrissy's party, Eddie to do deals, but he found the jocks flirting with Reader at a party (reader thinks the jocks are dumb). After some hours, Eddie has had enough, he takes her to his van and they have sex and Reader's like, if you were so jealous you should've told me! (But like, she's not angry, she thinks it's cute that Eddie acts overprotective and all that when he's jealous) ik you just wrote the Billy one, but I can imagine Billy and Eddie being like different kind of jealous boys (if that's a thing!)

Haha I'm glad you got some inspiration. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

If the van is shaking, don't come knocking

Eddie knew that the second he took Y/N off the market, there would be consequences. When Eddie was chasing after her, he wasn't the only one. He was running with every boy in school, all competing to win her heart. He knew she was way out of his league, and he knew if he fucked up, she has many options waiting for her.

But for some reason, she set her eyes on Eddie at the start and they never wandered off. Eddie doesn't understand it, but he isn't gonna question it.

Sadly, the jocks didn't quite stop chasing her after their relationship went official. Eddie felt like he had to beat guys off of her with a stick. Even after a full year of being together, the basketball ball team watched her more than the ball. Eddie almost wanted to join the team just so he could throw the ball at their dicks.

Billy Hargrove, a blonde with blue eyes and a reputation for being amazing in bed. Eddie knows Billy isn't a real competition because Y/N was sweet and hated assholes. Plus he looked nothing like Eddie, and Eddie knows he's Y/N's type. So only a .5 threat to Eddie. But Billy knew how to flirt, and that scared Eddie.

Jason Carver, another blonde and blue eyes, is not a threat to Eddie. Incredibly rich? Yeah, he's got that over Eddie's head. Still an asshole, but less than Billy. A full-point threat to Eddie.

Steve fucking Harrington, has dark hair and dark eyes. Bits of curls were thrown in and moles on his delicate skin. He was rich, smart, stupidly friendly, and one of Y/N's closest friends. And the damn guy was good with kids, which Y/N fawned over. A full ten-point threat to Eddie.

~~~

It was party night at Chrissy's and Eddie didn't want to leave the van. Y/N was wearing dark jeans, an old hoodie of Eddie's, and white sneakers. And Eddie wanted to pounce. The way her perfume lingered on his hoodie made his brain shut off and his dick has full control. He couldn't help but move his hand up her thigh and kiss her neck.

"Let's just stay in here." He whispered, his hot tongue licking up her neck. She whined as she melted into his touch. He always knew how to get her hot and bothered in seconds.

"I wish, but we can't. Chrissy was pissed when we skipped the last party to hook up in the hot tub in the basement." Y/N whined, but not trying too hard to push him off.

"Ugh fine. Stupid cheer squad." Eddie said as he groaned. He pulled himself away and took out his keys.

"Be nice!" Y/N warned. She gave him a stern look but still pecked his lips before they got out of the van.

And just like months to a flame, the boys came running.

"Heya gorgeous, interested in some beer bong?" Billy asked, his shirt unbuttoned as his chest glistened in some type of liquid. Eddie slipped his hand into Y/N's back pocket, a glare sent to the bad boy.

"Maybe in a bit? Eddie and I are going to get a drink!" She said sweetly as she waved. Eddie sometimes hated how sweet she was to everyone.

"I'll let your boyfriend play!" Billy tried again, a smirk on his face when Y/N squealed excitedly.

"Baby! Let's go play. You kick ass at this game all the time." Y/N said, grabbing his hand out of her jeans pocket to hold it and drag him to the table.

Y/N swept the hoodie over her head, she didn't want to ruin it with stains of beer or whatever alcohol was in the cups.

Eddie growled as Billy whistled, his eyes taking in Y/N's tight black long-sleeve. Eddie couldn't help but stare as well, but he's the boyfriend so he's allowed to do that.

"Just go, Hargrove," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.

"If I win, your girl is my partner for the next round," Billy said, smirking as he threw the ball and it landed perfectly in the red solo cup.

Eddie already planned to win, but now he wasn't leaving until he embarrassed the king of Hawkins.

~~~

"THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND!" Y/N screamed, a little tipsy. She held her arms up proud as Eddie sank the ball in the last remaining cup. Eddie smirked as Billy glared over, his girl wrapped herself around his body in a side cuddle. Eddie stood proud, his hand came down on her ass and he gripped it hard. Billy's eyes watched with anger and jealousy as he chugged the drink.

Y/N put back on Eddie's hoodie and grabbed Eddie's hand.

After the game, they finally made it inside the actual party. And to no surprise, Jason found them.

"Well hello, beautiful. How are you?" He asked, his eyes not looking away from her.

"A little tipsy. Eddie and I just creamed Hargrove at beer pong." Y/N said, she was so friendly and sweet that she didn't notice every time she brought up Eddie, these boys fought back a glare. Almost like she was always reminding them without knowing.

"Good. Someone needed to take him down a few" Jason said, and Y/N laughed. Of course, Jason felt like he was the man for making her laugh. But so what, Eddie made her laugh a hundred times a day.

Jason and Y/N talked for a few minutes, Eddie stood next to her but didn't contribute to the conversation. Just kept his eyes on Jason to make sure he didn't try anything.

"Need to run to the bathroom. Be aware of your surroundings and don't let him flirt into your mouth." Eddie said, pecking her cheek. She nodded and moved to peck his lips.

Eddie knew he had to be fast, the boys watched her like a prey. The second the alpha was gone, they prepared to attack.

~~~

Eddie went as fast as he could, washing his hands in five seconds as he raced back out. Only to not find her in the same place he left her.

It was thirty seconds, how the fuck did she move so fast?

He searched the house and made his way to the kitchen. He smiled as he watched her sit on the counter, her feet dangling as she sipped on water. He panicked and all she was doing was being a good girl and drinking water.

Eddie for the first time since they came, felt like it was just the two of them. But then Steve walked right into the perfect picture.

"Thanks for the water." She said as she chugged it down.

"Of course, someone should be watching over something as delicate as you," Steve said, his fingers reaching up to touch her chin, but Eddie's hand stopped him. He didn't say a word, just growled at Steve and shoved him.

Steve was the one guy he refused to let flirt with her for one second. Steve backed off and pouted as Eddie grabbed Y/N's hand and raced them out the door.

"Eddie? Where are we going?" She asked, her feet trying to keep up with his long strides. But Eddie didn't say a word, he opened the back of his van and crawled in. Even though he looked pissed, he was a gentleman and gently helped her up into the van.

"What's wrong?" She tried again as he slammed shut the doors. Instead of answering, he smashed his lips on hers. He easily pushed her down, her back against the soft carpet. His hands were working up and down her body at a fast pace.

They pulled apart to quickly take off their clothes, both eagerly trying to get naked as fast as they could. Y/N didn't even have time to take off her bra when Eddie was pushing her down again.

He dove between her thighs, hot tongue swirling around her clit as he shoved two fingers into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around them. Getting them soaked in her spit. She let them go with a loud pop, then he took the same fingers and shoved them into her cunt.

She whined as his mouth sucked on her clit and his fingers scissored inside of her. He was fucking her fast, and it made her head spin. She could feel him forcing an orgasm out of her. Like he wanted her to cum in seconds. She moaned, her thighs clenching around his head as her hands dug into his hair. She kept his head in place as she rocked her hips against his tongue and fingers.

But before she could cum, he removed himself. She whined after him, her hands reaching for him.

"One second, pretty girl. Just want you to soak my cock." He smirked, leaning down to peck her lips as he pushed his cock inside of her. She whimpered as his cock stretched her out even further. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he started fucking into her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her. She was screaming and clawing at everything she could. He was ruthless, almost animal-like. His mouth was on hers, then her neck, chest, and every part of skin he could reach. His hands were above her head as he looked down at her. He watched her face as her body took his cock perfectly. The way her cunt would clench around him, letting him feel the pulsing inside of her. Then her eyes would squeeze shut and her mouth would drop open with screams, moans, and whimpers.

Eddie wanted the van to shake. He wanted everyone to hear her. He wanted everyone to know she was getting fucked good by her boyfriend. He hoped Billy was still playing beer pong, he hoped Jason went outside for air, and he hoped Steve followed them outside. He wished more than anything they could see his van shake and know her tight cunt was getting fucked by him and him only.

His fingers went down to her clit, and that's when she saw stars. She screamed as she covered his cock in her cum. Her wetness making a mess everywhere and probably staining the carpet below them. She could feel Eddie in her stomach, his bulge showing as it moved inside her stomach. She pressed down on it, loving the way Eddie growled.

"Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all my cum. Gonna be dripping with my cum inside of you." He growled into her ear, he panted as he felt his balls tighten. His hot cum filled her as he bit down on her shoulder. She whimpered as her cunt grew sensitive and the extra hit of his teeth created marks on her delicate skin.

He slowly pumped himself dry inside of her, gently removing himself. He prepped her face with kisses and praise. Reaching for a spare towel he kept for these occasions. He gently wiped off her cunt, trying not to dive in for seconds as her cunt pulsed and gushed.

"If you were so jealous, you could've told me." She said with a breathy laugh. She was fucked out, barely felt anything.

Eddie looked up at her. She looked down at him with a fucked out, dazed look. A lazy smile on her face.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie winked

Eddie- a full threat to Billy, Jason and Steve

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie Munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #eddie munson x cheerleader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson smut x cheerleader reader #ashwhowrites

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cieloclercs · 1 month

Text

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 7/7 (read part 6 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. angsty but with a lil catharsis at the end (yes it’s a happy ending i’m too weak to keep the angst up 😔) swearing as per, your bestie and charles SCHEMING, y/n being a teenyyy bit annoying but it’s fine she’s heartbroken we accept it 😚

pairing. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. FINAL PART!! it’s been a long time coming (sorry about that sixth form’s been kicking my ass 😔) but thank you to everyone that has been interacting with this series! i love and appreciate you all sooooo much!! 🫶 anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy the finale of what would you say (if i told you i love you)? 💗

liked by charles_leclerc and 37,846 others

yourusername happier than ever 🩶

view all comments…

username me when i lie:

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username it’s so weird to me that everyone says she loved him like they confirmed anything? they were literally just friends 😑

username that may be so, but when two people look at each other the way y/n and charles do there’s NO WAY they’re just friends…

yourfriend you know there’s something called taking my advice maybe you should try it sometime 😃

username erm hello?? excuse me??

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arthur_leclerc sure you are ☺️

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username PREACH

leclerc_pascale ma fille pour toujours / my girl forever 💗

yourusername 🫶

username hey y/n! if you are truly happy then i am so proud of you <3 but i know that sometimes say things to hide the pain they’re actually feeling. what i’m trying to say is please don’t think you need to act as if you’re doing great all the time! we all love and support you no matter what, and all we want is for you to be happy! 💗

yourusername i think this is the sweetest comment i’ve ever received?? 🥹 thank you so so much for your kind words and for checking in! i love you ❤️

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*yourusername liked this comment

charles_leclerc all i want is for you to be happy.

*charles_leclerc deleted this comment

username CHARLES WE SAW THAT

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username he really thought he could hide from us 🙄 rookie mistake

liked by formula1updates and 107,837 others

f1gossip BREAKING! Charles Leclerc and Y/F/N, best friend of Y/N Y/L/N spotted together in Monaco! Do we smell a backstabber? 👀

view all comments…

username YOU WHAT NOW

username THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING

username i actually have no words.

username oh 😃

username guys it might not be what it looks like!! we don’t know the whole story

username well it looks pretty incriminating to me…

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username RIGHT?? i’ve always said it and no one ever listened to me!!

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username you guys sound so pathetic right now you don’t even know the whole story??

username right all the fake y/n fans talking shit about y/f/n need to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

username LITERALLY the switch up is insane 🫠

username yes!! first of all no one knows the full story, and second y/f/n has been nothing BUT supportive of y/n throughout this whole situation! switching up on her now is really unfair ☹️

yourfriend this is unbelievable. f1gossip you have no right to post this without any understanding of the full story.

username yourfriend stop trying to play innocent we all now you’re a fake backstabbing skank 🤮

username username if you can’t think for yourself without trusting everything the TABLOIDS tell you then just do us all a favour and shut the fuck up 🥰

yourusername

seen by charles_leclerc and 21,673 others

responses:

yourfriend thank you, y/n

liked by formula1updates and 22,736 others

f1gossip Charles Leclerc spotted with a HUGE bouquet of flowers outside Y/N Y/L/N’s apartment in Monaco! Is reconciliation on the cards? 👀

view all comments…

username OH MY GOD IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

username CODE RED 🚨🚨 THIS IS NOT A DRILL GUYS I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

username charles i am PRAYING that you don’t fuck this up i need my otp back together 🙏🙏🙏

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username after all of what? a bouquet of flowers? he needs to try a bit harder than that 🙄

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username tbh if charles leclerc turned up at my door with flowers i’d melt. no matter how angry i was 🤷‍♀️

arthur_leclerc FINALLY

username ARTHUR 😭

username arthur bestie what are you doing here 😭

username he’s so us

username he stans charlesy/n just as much as we do 🫶

one week later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 647,937 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername i’d say i love you too ❤️‍🩹

view all comments…

charles_leclerc thank you for giving me a second chance, mon amour ❤️

yourusername always 💫💗

charles_leclerc i love you so so much

charles_leclerc i’m the luckiest man in the world

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username oh he IN LOVE in love 🫠

username hold up so everyone was talking shit about y/f/n but the whole time she was actually plotting to get charles and y/n back together… 😳

username yep…everyone say sorry and thank you y/f/n right now!

username sorry yourfriend and thank you for doing god’s work 😔🙏

yourfriend you’re welcome guys ☺️

arthur_leclerc DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT

arthur_leclerc ELEVEN FUCKING YEARS

arthur_leclerc I DESERVE COMPENSATION FOR EVERY TIME I’VE HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU TWO PINE OVER EACH OTHER BUT NEVER DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT

yourusername way to expose us arth 😔

charles_leclerc sorry? 😃

username CRYING ARTHUR IS SO DONE WITH THEIR SHIT

username arthur is the true winner in this situation 😭

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joris_trouche it’s about damn time

yourusername ok lizzo

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username FINALLY

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username ok but did you NEED to put us through all that pain? 😅

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username the first picture 🥹🥹

leclerc_pascale Ma belle future fille / my beautiful future daughter 💗😉

charles_leclerc maman 🤦‍♂️

arthur_leclerc just propose already you’ve been saying you want to marry her since you were sixteen

charles_leclerc ARTHUR

yourusername CRYING 😭

yourfriend ARTHUR YOU DID NOT 😭😭

username IM SCREAMING ARTHUR WHY WOULD YOU EXPOSE HIM LIKE THAT

username poor charles can’t say anything without arthur exposing him 😔

landonorris i better be invited to the wedding 😏

carlossainz55 me too! 😘

charles_leclerc absolutely not.

yourusername landonorris carlossainz55 ignore him! of course you’re invited 😃

scuderiaferrari Our favourite couple ❤️

yourusername 🥰🫶

username even ferrari’s a charlesy/n fan

scuderiaferrari username *Biggest fan 😉

lorenzotl congrats to my favourite sibling (and charles) 😚

yourusername love you enzo ☺️💕

charles_leclerc rude??? 😒

username i love how they left us in suspense for a whole week after that gossip post and only NOW decided to confirm it ☺️☺️

username ROLL THE DAMN CREDITS.

taglist: @cxcewg @incoherenciass @formula1mount @allywthsr @meabhcavanagh @driveswiftly13 @zzblooda @gaslysainz @be-your-coffee-pot @siovhanroy @hwienv @xoxozoedagyal @alireads27 @glow-ish @eviethetheatrefreak @nmw-am @buendiabebeta @laneyspaulding19 @imthebadguyyy @marialovesf1 @f1wintermoon13 @topaz125 @aundercover @sainzluvrr @sunny44 @justdreamersdream @lordperceval-16 @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @midnightappleade @remuslupinsbitch @taylorslovesswifties13 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lillianacristina @lifeless-firefly @bbygrlllllll @405rry @1655clean @drthymby @ang-26 @dhe3reads @mishaandthebrits @caitdaniels @missenclod @lovely-blackinnon @smnthnclj @sofs16 @dark-night-sky-99 @c3leste888 @christcat @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @cixrosie

thank you all so much for the love on this series! i’m going to miss it 🥲

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berzahoes · 4 months

Text

snow lands on top | tom blyth

summary: a sutherland (not donald) and the younger version of president snow walk into a bar . . .

an: terrible summary ik but eh <3

when tom told you he had auditioned for the part of a young coriolanus snow, you got flashbacks to attending premieres of the hunger games movies. your grandfather was always taking you to the set of whatever film he was starring in and you loved it. sometimes you even got to yell ‘action’ or ‘cut’. your favorite memories were always on the hunger games set when your grandfather played president snow and now you received the news that your boyfriend auditioned for the younger version of said character.

“what do you think your grandfather would say? it is his character. what if he hates that i’m doing this? say something, you’re making me nervous!” tom said when he noticed how quiet you got.

“i’m just thinking . . you’re going to bleach your hair. i love your brown hair so much.” you ran your hands through his soft brown hair.

“we don’t know if i have to bleach it, i haven’t gotten the part.” tom reassured.

“yet. don’t think about my grandfather, think about how you’re going to be coriolanus snow.” you kissed him.

“but-”

“tom, if it bothers you that much, you can talk to him about it. i’m having lunch with him tomorrow and i’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you joined.”

and that’s how you ended up having lunch with your grandfather and boyfriend. it had been weeks since you last had lunch with your grandfather and you missed him dearly.

“it’s such a beautiful day. we should go on a walk after.” donald said as he picked up his glass of water to drink.

“it is. a walk sounds nice, but i think tom would like to tell you something first.” you nudged your boyfriend side.

“is that so? don’t tell me you kids got married and didn’t invite me. i always told you that i wanted to walk you down the aisle.” donald said sternly.

“no, sir, we did not get married, but i do intend to marry your granddaughter. she is the love of my life and i know how much it means to her that we have a proper wedding with you there. this is about . . . something else. um . . i recently had an audition for a role you’re familiar with. i’m sure you heard that another hunger games film is being made, but this one doesn’t involve the original cast-” donald cut off tom.

“you’re playing president snow.” he said.

“nothing is confirmed yet, but i’m hoping i get the part. but if you want me to back out, i understand.” you could hear the hurt in his voice. you reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it.

“why would you do that, tom?” donald asked.

“it’s a role made famous by you, sir, it’s your character. i don’t want to mess up such an iconic character like snow.“ he admitted.

“tom, i’ve seen you act. my granddaughter made me watch billy the kid twice. you could never mess up our character.” your grandfather smiled warmly.

“our character?” tom questioned. your grandfather nodded.

“i think i’m going to cry.” you spoke.

it was days after the ballad of songbirds and snakes premiered and the fans were loving it. positive reviews about the cast and film came out and you couldn’t be more prouder of your boyfriend and his bleached hair. it took some time to get used to, but he was soon back to his brown hair.

tom was currently doing an interview in your shared office on his laptop with josh horowitz from mtv. you were catching up on your favorite show when you heard josh ask tom a question that caught your attention.

“your girlfriend, she’s part of the sutherland family. her grandfather is the og president snow, I need to know if you were nervous playing snow because of who your girlfriend is related to.” josh chuckled when he saw that tom laughed.

“i was and then the three of us had lunch. that’s when i told him i had auditioned for the role of snow and he was so nice about it. by the end of it, he actually called snow ‘our character’ and it just warms my heart that he supported me taking on this role.” tom explained.

“and did donald sutherland have any involvement with your take on snow? any advice?” josh asked.

“the first day of filming, he texted me the usual ‘good luck, have a great day’ but there is a line i said in a scene with peter dinklage that’s in the end of the film. ‘snow lands on top’ that line was actually written by donald sutherland and he told me to say it because he knew that it fit the character of snow really well.” tom explained.

you smiled to yourself as you listened to tom. who knew the character of coriolanus snow would come back into your life after many years?

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth fluff #sutherland!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes

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gothgleek · 14 days

Note

Reader confessing her feelings to her childhood friend Samantha carpenter after avoiding her for sometime worried Sam didn’t feel the same

Thank you so much for your request! This is my first ever Scream fic and first wlw x reader fic so I hope you enjoy it! I slightly changed your request so this can take place anytime after or during the movies. However, Sam is single and Billy Loomis being her dad is not general knowledge.

As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated.

Notes: fluff, angst, mentions of food, childhood friends to lovers

Border is by @saradika-graphics

You believed in signs from the universe and there was no bigger sign to you than Sam Carpenter leaving without a single word the same day you planned on telling her how you felt. She made it easy to avoid her though, she never sent a single message after she left Woodsboro. You tried not to take it personally, after all she didn’t tell her family either, but it still stung.

But you froze in the ice cream aisle when you saw her for the first time in five years.

Sam wasn’t paying attention when she bumped into your cart but the look on her face revealed all her shock. You didn’t hear you say your name, focused completely on the way her mouth formed your name. It was one of the things you wrote about in your diary as a kid- the way she took her time to say your name, stressing each syllable, and the way her lips curled around each letter. You didn’t hear her say your name, but seeing her say it was enough to snap you out of your trance.

“Sam! Hi!” You squeaked and wanted to slap yourself.

“Hi,” Sam said, her demeanor relaxing. “What are you doing here?”

“Just shopping for the week.” You held up a box of cereal. “But I’ll ask you the same question. It’s been… years.”

Your eyes followed her hand to her opposite wrist. Sam was playing with a blue friendship bracelet with black and white plastic white star beads in between plastic beads spelling ‘moon’. The string was brand new (she played with it too much to

“It lasted ten years without breaking?” You blinked in shock. You remembered when your matching sun bracelet exploding in your gym class a few weeks after making it. You used a little too much force to hit a ball during four square and the beads scattered around the gym floor. Sam helped you pick up each yellow and white bead, dodging the boys who played four square where the beads fell.

“Ugh, don’t say that,” Sam cringed. “That makes us sound so old.”

“Well, it feels like just yesterday we were fourteen,” You told her.

“You still eat like a fourteen year old,” Sam teased, pulling out your super sugary cereal.

“And you eat like a grandma,” You pulled out her Special K cereal. She playfully shoved you and reached for her cereal, which you held just out of reach for her. Your smile fell and your face heated when you noticed how close her face was when she reached for it. She took that moment to snatch the cereal away from you.

Victorious, she stuck her tongue out and tossed the cereal in her cart. That shook you out of your daze and you rolled your eyes.

“But to answer your question from earlier, no it didn’t last.” Sam told you softly. “I had to keep buying new string to put it back together.”

The confession made your voice hitch- was that something best friends did? Did straight girls do this? Of course because Sam is straight that’s why you never-

“You thought about me?” You asked before you could help yourself. “While you were gone?”

Sam stopped her cart and looked at you. You mirrored her. Sam’s eyes searched your face. For what, you didn’t know. But her search seemed to go on forever so you had to speak up.

“I thought about you.” You did not feel brave but you felt like you had to say something. “Everyday. I went crazy hoping I would get a text or a phone call or something but…” You sighed. “I’m just grateful you didn’t block me on your social media.”

Sam looked like the truth was trying to force itself out of her mouth and she was doing her hardest to keep it closed. She swallowed and took a deep breath.

“I thought about you too. Everyday. And I wanted to call but…” She took another deep breath and played with her bracelet. “I wanted to call but I was selfish and wanted to keep every memory of Woodsboro in Woodsboro.”

As much as rose colored glasses wanted to remember her as perfect, you knew she wasn’t in a good place before she left. Sam would ditch you to hang out with strangers, show up to your house high, and was quick to lash out. You feared it was because you thought she knew how you felt about her. But maybe whatever forced her to leave wasn’t about you.

“I hoped you would forget about me.” She looked ashamed to say the last part out loud and you couldn’t look at her.

“They say that it takes half the time you were with them to fall out of love,” You focused on the colorful cereal box in your cart. “I’ve known you for my entire life. Sam, I wasn’t going to forget you.”

You turned to face her to gauge her reaction. Regret was visible on her face.

“But you seem better now,” You told her sincerely. Despite her eye bags and stained sweat pants, Sam looked a lot better than she did when you last saw her. Her skin looked healthy and her eyes were clear. You took her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze. “More like yourself.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, her eyes meeting yours and she wiped away her forming tears. “I should make it up to you though.”

“Yeah you should,” You told her in a teasing tone that showed her everything would be okay between you two. Despite everything, Sam would always be your friend.

“You can come to my place and I’ll make you dinner,” She told you with a smile.

“Has your cooking improved at all in the last five years?” You asked her skeptically.

“Just a little bit,” she gestured with her fingers as she grabbed a can of tomato sauce off the shelf. “But I will make my specialty. After all, I’ve wanted to take you on a date for years.”

That gave you pause but Sam kept walking down the aisle, a smirk on her face when she glanced back at you.

“Sam, I need you to repeat that one more time.”

Sam parked her cart and faced you with a smile on her face. “I always loved you too.”

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riotlain · 1 year

Text

Slashers' Werewolf S/o

school is crazy

BACK TO MY LONG POSTS

THIS IS A NWLNW BLOG!! WOMEN DNI

Poly Ghostface

Along with the various Ghostface killings theres been another bit of murder

"Animal attacks" the news said

You just avoided the news because of it before yall dated

After a while of dating you told them about the whole werewolf situation

They didnt believe til they saw it

You were quite docile with them

They gave you the nickname, Wolfy

Mainly Stu uses it but yknow Billy does too sometimes to tease you

Youre surprisingly docile while in wolf form

Well around them atleast

You mainly just follow them around which leads to you being apart of the whole Ghostface thing

Billy hates the fur so much. Stu doesnt mind it though

Yes theres dog toys in Stu's house for you

It surprisingly works

Stu's parents aint home often but whenever they are and you're transformed they hide you in his closet or bathroom

Billy gives good massages if you complain enough about the after pain of shifting and all that

Michael Myers

Yall were in the penitentiary for... different reasons

You both escaped at different times and eventually you ended up a tattered mess infront of Michael's lil house place

He wouldve killed you if he didnt see you turn from a werewolf thing to a human

Hey he recognized you! You were that patient who escaped a bit after him!!

Michael doesnt know how to feel about the werewolf thing

Yea youre enjoyable when youre a human but as a dog thing?? He usually jusy puts you outside

One of these times though you got hurt and he stopped doing it💀

Carries you around in both forms. Very strong man

Hates the fur hates the fur

*sprays water at you to get off the couch*

Jason Voorhees

Jason was never allowed any pets as a kid

Not saying your his pet but in your wolf form he treats you just like a dog

Yall definitely wrestle. HES A STRONG LAD HE CAN TAKE IT

He wont make you hunt trespassers or anything if you dont want to (Depending on how well you can control yourself when turned💀)

Gives the best massages when youre sore from shifting hes so gentle with it🫶🫶

Will hold you like a baby

You hurt him on accident once and never lived it down😭😭

Your fur feels nice to him

Will steal a brush from a trespasser to brush you out

Will lose his shit if you accidentally walk into a trap

Vincent Sinclair

Youre used to waking up in random places. Ambrose was the place this time

Vincent saw you turn from wolf to human and wanted to keep you around

HE THINKS ITS SO COOL OK

He wants you to be a model for him but thats near impossible bc you never sit still

Please dont eat the wax statues😭

You arent allowed in his work room when transformed. Youre usually outside tho when you are so it dont matter too much

So you hang around Lester and Josie on those nights

Or he calms you down to where you sleep

Likes laying on your fur

Hates the slobber hates the slobber

Has many drawings of you🫶

Bo Sinclair

Acts like he hates that you transform

But he loves it and gives you so much affection in wolf form (you remember it all but dont tell him)

He hates the fur as well

"QUIT CHEWIN' ON MY HAT Y/N!"

Theres a dog bed in his garage

Like yea you always curl up next to him but still its there for you

Would prefer if you hunted some runaway victims but yknow you dont gotta

Will fold if you did puppy eyes at him

Lester Sinclair

Loves you so much

You're Jonsie's bestie

Mainly feeds you roadkill to keep you away from eating the wax statues😭

talks about you so much to his brothers

Youre great for collecting roadkill but you scare the travelers alot

Treats you like a big dog but knows your boundaries

Def gave you the nickname Puppy

Learned how to make tea to soothe you after you turn back

Bubba Sawyer

YOURE A WHAT??? HOW THE HELL DID YOU END UP IN TEXAS

You woke up in a basement with blood in and around your mouth and a large man infront of you in an apron or something in fear

Bubba (and nubbins) had to convince Hoyt to keep you

Loves your abilities so much

Nubbins or Choptop usually try to rough house with you

You shed so much especially since its FUCKING TEXAS

Hoyt literally hates it so much

"GODDAMNIT THERES FUR ON MY SHIRT!!"

Gnaw on the bones of victims why dont you

Hoyt calls you mutt sorry😭

Bubba loves your fur

Just loves to ruffle it

Thinks your sharp teeth are really cool

Does not know what to do when youre in pain or sore from shifting back

Thinks your dying ngl and panics so much

He eventually understands youre sore and tried to give you massages

Thomas Hewitt

Near same thing to Bubba. HOW THE HELL DID YOU END UP IN TEXAS

Never allowed pets as a kid so when you just lay on his lap as a wolf he loves it so much

Doesnt mind the fur too much

Just tries to keep it away from the food

Monty has locked you outside in your wolf form multiple times and Tommy boy literally loses his shit

Monty is a hater

Luda may loves you though

Finds petting you therapeutic

Doesnt mind the slobber or anything

Gives you limbs of victims sometimes to gnaw on

Billy Lenz

Been literally stalking in your house for a while so he knows

His calls have more dog jokes in them calling you Puppy/doggy instead of piggy

Has barked at you

You kinda knew he was up there after the second time you shifted and heard him being... well him

You intimidate him so much hes so inlove with you

Smells your fur like alot

Theres saliva in your fur and a good amount is from him💀💀

You bit him once so he bit you back

Grabs your tail and ears alot to be annoying

Brahms Heelshire

Was also never allowed pets as a kid

Is scared at first. He knows werewolves as scary monsters that eat people! You wouldnt eat him right??

Eventually gets used to it

Cuddles his head against your chest

Your fur feels so nice to him

Ngl he just treats you like a dog?? Like how he treats the rats ngl

He'll give you food and then gently pat your head

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Jesse didnt believe in that stuff until you

Dont lick him on the head omfg💀💀

You shifted at work once and it scared everyone

Bro was just like "Aww my boyfriend🥰🥰"

Will trim your nails. Even if youre trying to go against it hes going to trim them

Enjoys brushing your fur

Preston hates how you always end up growling at him when hes around

It makes him look bad infront of his boss😭😭 (good)

Thinks youre an angel compared to him. Youre literally throwing bodies around and mauling them?? Nuh uh

You cant get him with puppy eyes no you cant (Yea... you kinda can)

Also sprays water at you sometimes

You have your own collar

Asa Emory/The Collector

Youre basically his pet so like yea you have a collar

Spooked him when you first turned like what?? people dont usually do that???

Hates the dog hair so much like omfg

Youre a guard dog now

Your job is to chase down any victim on full moons

Studies you

Watches you transform and takes notes

Has a notebook just about you

Asks you alot of questions before and after shifting

After his lil studies he will give you massages and somewhat pamper you ig

3K notes · View notes

miheartsedthings · 1 month

Note

dom billy x sub reader. angry sex.

He’s had a fight with Neil and takes his anger out on you as stress relief. Full on rough missionary sex where he breaks the bed. Ofc that doesn’t stop him hehe. some after care at the end please.

Took me a minute to figure out how I wanted to do this, but it finally came through! Hope it's everything you hoped for :)

@billysbot

Use Me.

NSFW 18+ only. DomBillyX SubbyReader

Warnings: Angry sex, punishment, mean/aggressive Billy, dacryphilia, rough play, degradation/praise kink (a blend).

Billy can’t seem to ignore calls from his dad and he doesn’t know why. When his name pops up on his phone every instinct in him says to ignore it, yet theres some deeper drive pushing him to follow through. He picks up, and then hates himself for it later. That man has a talent for disguising his cruelty as parental concern and being states away from Hawkins hasn’t changed that. He’ll call every other week to ‘check in’, interrogating Billy about his progress in college or how much he’s making at the garage. What bothers him most is when his dad inquires about you.

“That girl still putting up with you?” or “Sure you didn’t drug her?” and sometimes, “What do you two even do together? Paint each other’s toenails?”

All of this is accompanied by laughter, playing it off as a joke until Billy shows it bothers him. At which point Neil turns reprimanding.

“So damn emotional. Did I not teach you well enough how to be a man?”

Be a man.

Billy’s told you about growing up under that command and how impossible it was. Neil didn’t want his son to be a man. He didn’t want a loyal, intelligent, passionate kid. The kid he had. He wanted a pet. Someone he could direct and who would follow orders. Take a kick from time to time and never complain, never fight back, only bend further and further. It was impossible to be this without filling up with some poison. Tidal waves of anger and despair. Billy had felt all of it throughout his life and now he’s away. He’s far from Hawkins and his dad but he’s still carrying it around. His weather follows him, storm clouds erupting above his head when Neil calls. Why the fuck does he answer?

He started the morning with one of these calls and like no other time it’s filled him with so much fury. His anger persisted through the day, making work drag on. Even his workout was intense as he strained his body, full of indignation. He came home still swelled with anger, his mind rolling over questions that were infuriatingly hard to answer. Why did it still matter what his dad thought of him? Why does he care so much when he makes jokes about you? Why does he answer? Why can’t he stop feeling like a failure no matter what he accomplishes? No matter how often you tell him you love him why can’t he stop wondering when you’re gonna leave? Why can’t he truly trust anyone?

He comes home, sweaty, and miserable, anger seeping from his pores. He doesn’t look at you when he walks into the little apartment.

“Hey,” you call from the kitchen where you’re leaning against the counter flipping through recipes on your phone.

“Hey,” he mumbles and disappears into the bedroom, his gym bag on his shoulder. Instantly, the air is tense. You’ve been around Billy long enough to know when he’s close to erupting. You pad over to the bedroom, leaning against the doorjam. His face is red and tight, eyes dark as he strips from his musty gym stuff. He still won’t look at you.

“I’m thinking about salmon for dinner but I don’t know.”

He doesn’t respond, tossing his clothes toward the hamper but not in it. You cross the room and correct this.

“We could order out–”

“I don’t care.”

His tone is careless and heavy with warning as he marches naked into the bathroom. Your eyes slip down to watch his beautiful asscheeks as he goes. Then the door shuts, cutting off your view. You hear the shower turn on and plop down on the bed, hearing the old frame creak. You’re not sure what’s got him upset this time, but you’d hoped going to the gym would fix it because you’ve been missing his body all day and it’s killing you. If you were allowed to touch yourself when he wasn’t around, you would’ve played with your toys while he was working out. It would’ve been so nice to fill yourself, fucking your cunt with the dildo he’d gotten you for Christmas, imagining it was him. You catch yourself rubbing your thighs together, your lips so wet they slip against each other.

You lay back and pull up your skirt and your hand goes to your panties for just a moment. Just one squeeze of your clit between your middle and ring fingers, making it pulse. A soft sound escapes and you snatch your hand away, pulling down your skirt. It doesn’t matter how bad you want it, rules are rules and you have to be good. You get up and cross to the mirror on the dresser. Maybe it’s not so unfortunate that he’s mad tonight. He’ll need a release for all that aggression.

You change into a dress you know he loves on you. The one you’re not allowed to wear out because it hugs you so well, showing off your cleavage and riding up when you walk. Once dressed, you pluck a book you’ve read a dozen times from the shelf and lay on your stomach on the bed, ass facing the bathroom door. You consider taking off your panties, but he likes peeling them off himself. So you lay there, unable to see a single word on the page because all you can visualize is him diving face-first into your pussy.

He’d eaten you for a solid hour a week before, slow and sloppy while you lay there melting into his mouth again and again. The memory sends a shiver through you. Then, you remember just the other night, you’d aced a an exam he helped you study for and your reward had been getting filled from behind while a vibrating buttplug pulsed in your ass. You came so hard it made you cry. God, you want that again. Behind you, the shower turns off, and your stomach flutters with anticipation. You stop your wiggling hips, sometimes they move on their own but right now you have to be patient.

The bathroom door opens and you jolt, staring uncomprehendingly at the book in your hand. You hear Billy stop in the doorway, feel his eyes on you, giving you goosebumps. The silence feels like a living thing. It breathes between you and hardly leaves room for your shallow inhales. He moves, and his towel is flung across the bed beside you, flustering your nerves again.

“What’cha doin?”

His tone hasn’t softened a bit, and when you look back at him, you’re met with the same cold expression. If anything, his anger has set in further. His brows are a hard line above his darkened eyes, his jaw set. He looks at you, completely unamused and you’re nervous for a moment that you won’t pull this off. Then, your confidence returns, you raise your brows, your face relaxed into perfect innocence.

“Me?” you ask, your voice kitten soft, “I thought I’d read a little before making dinner.”

While you speak, you slowly move back onto your knees, your ass poking up for a moment before you sit up, your legs folded under you and sitting on your heels. The perfect little princess pose. Your gaze moves down his chest, eager to see the rest of his naked body, but he grabs your chin, lording over you.

“Uh uh, eyes up here,” he says. You look up at him, and you know he can see the desire in your eyes. He shakes his head. “You don’t want this right now, angel.”

His warning makes you salivate.

“Of course I do.” you say with complete sincerity “Fuck it all out.”

A thrill pulses down into his groin. He glares.

“I’m gonna hurt you.”

“Please.”

He scoffs.

“Really, baby?”

You nod, your mind full of fantazises, his cock driving into you, your eyes spilling over with tears, his strong arms forcing you into a hold while he cums on your face or in your ass or- he yanks you out of your thoughts and off the bed.

“Fuck-so fuckin dumb, you sweet little idiot-get on your knees.”

You obey, dropping to your knees, back in Princess Position. Finally allowed to look, your eyes are filled with his beautiful dick as he strokes it in your face. Your mouth falls open before he can ask, your tongue lulling out to eagerly flick at the drops of precum seeping from the tip. He grabs a fistful of your hair, sharply yanking you back.

“Did I say you could taste it yet?” you shake your head. “Huh?”

“No.” He smacks you quickly across the cheek. “No, sir.” you say, nearly panting from excitement. Your brain goes foggy as you watch him stroke himself. He lifts up his shaft, pushing your face underneath. Instinctively, you gently suck one of his balls into your mouth.

“There,” he groans. “That’s what you get until you earn my cock.”

You accept this, setting to work messaging his balls with your mouth, one and then the other, making him groan each time you envelope one of them. Your hands are crossed behind your back, and you know if you move them he’ll punish you, but you want so badly to get a hand around the base of his balls while you suck them. You moan at the thought, and the feeling of his nutsack on your face.

He pulls your head back and you open your mouth just in time for him to roughly shove his dick down your throat.

“Fuck,” he groans, pushing your head onto it with both hands. You squirm as it meets the back of your throat and he starts fucking your face harder than you were prepared for. Your throat fills with thick spit, your eyes already stinging. “You’re such a good slut, baby,” he says “Dumb. Fucking. Princess.”

With those three words he thrusts his cock into the back of your throat three sharp times and on the last time you gag, your throat starting to hurt.

“Ohhh,” he chuckles darkly, then pulls your head back just long enough to stick his fingers down your throat, collect a gooey spread of saliva and slap it across your face, rubbing it over your lips before ramming himself back in. He helps guide your head as you take his length, the sound of his cock churning your throat mixes with his gruff moans. You can't help wiggling, finding friction grinding against your heel. You moan as you work your clit against your heel, your panties so wet they're stuck to you.

He yanks out his dick and bends to bring his dark eyes level with yours, glaring.

“Are you fucking yourself without my permission?”

You shake your head. You didn't think it was possible for his expression to harden any more, but it does, and his grip on your hair tightens.

“You're picking the wrong time to disobey me.”

He commands you to move your heels out to the sides so you're no longer able to sit on them. Then, he reaches down and yanks up the front of your thong, making you yelp as your sensitive pussy is instantly in pain.

“Hold this.”

Your hand takes up the thong, now pulled taut up to your belly button, so tight you feel every pulse of blood to your already aching clit. He reaches down and smacks it, making you jolt and yelp again.

“Don't you move.”

You nod, and then he's back in your mouth. He slams himself in until your lips are flush against him and then fucks your throat. Spit dribbles from your chin and you struggle to breath as he stuffs your mouth over and over. You can't stop feeling the ach in your clit, screaming for release from the tension of your panties. Billy uses your throat like a stress reliever, unrelenting in the way he pounds into it, his head falling back in pleasure. Your eyes travel up, admiring the rolling mounds of muscle along his body. His strong, arms and chiseled shoulders, all the way up to his throat, where his Adam’s apple is on display, God, you sometimes fantasize about rubbing your clit around that perfect bone.

Your jaw burns, and your eyes water, clouding your vision. Your mouth is just a hot, softened hole for him to play with. He looks down at you, admiring the empty look in your eye. Meanwhile, your legs are falling asleep.

“There she is, my favorite little dummy, finally being good for me.”

A rush of pleasure pulses harshly through your tortured cunt and tears finally spill down your cheeks from the roaming flushes of pain in your body. Billy gives you a few more merciless thrusts before pulling your head back, leaving you slack jawed and panting, drool slicked down your chin.

“Get up,” he says, grabbing you by the arm he forces you to bend over. You know better than to let go of your panties or move your other arm from behind your back, so you land face first in the duvet while he runs a finger along your horribly tender pussy.

“Looks like it hurts.” He says, a sadistic thrill in his voice.

“Yes sir,” you whimper. You don't see the little smile on his face when you say that.

“Let me help.”

You think he's going to say you can let go, instead he smacks your ass so hard it genuinely scares you, forcing you to cry out in pain and surprise. The sting is still bright when he does it again and then a third time, drawing pained whimpers every time. You bury your face into the duvet.

“Better, yeah?”

You don't answer, and he's not really asking. He shoves two fingers in your pussy, a bittersweet rush of pleasure bumps against your tortured clit. He moans at the feeling of your pussy gripping his fingers.

“So greedy for me.”

He grabs you, tossing you on your back so roughly the bed frame creaks again. You quickly correct your hand, pulling it from behind you and placing it on your belly, where he likes it. Your eyes still teary, you're praying he releases your clit, but be doesn't. Instead, he kneels on the ground, a cruel grin taking over his features as he places his hot mouth over the cloth choking your pussy. It's so close to being pleasurable, so close to the thing you want that it actually makes you start whimpering.

“Please,” you whine, earning a rough slap against your clit, making you cringe in pain.

“Did I say you could speak?”

You shake your head.

“No, sir.”

“I didn't think so.” He shakes his head “I'm really trying to be nice to you, baby.”

He grabs you and repositions you on the bed, getting between your legs. Your mind fills with pleading for him, your desperation clear on your face as you impatiently watch him stroke his cock just outside your entrance.

“Hold that leg back,” he commands and you use your free hand to obey, holding your leg behind the knee while he pushes down the other one, lining up with your cunt. Please, please. But your hopes are dashed when he pulls your panties aside just enough to push his cock in, but not enough to end your suffering. A little sob leaks out as his thick length fills you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling closed. “Such a perfect pussy.”

His cock fills you, adding internal pressure to the strain against your clit. His hand comes down over your throat as he picks up speed, staring you right in the eye as he drills into you harder and harder until every smack stings your ass. He fucks you like he hates you and all you can do is take it, tears streaking down your cheeks. Pained little sobs blend with moans as your body is overwhelmed with conflicting tides. Meanwhile, Billy is in pure bliss. His cock stretches your pussy just enough, filling you so much you're kind of amazed you can take all of him inside.

He grabs the hand holding your panties and gives it a yank, forcing you to yelp in pain, a fresh crop of tears start falling and at the sight of it Billy moans again, keeping up his punishing rhythm. He pounds you into the bed, and after one particularly hard thrust you feel one of the support beams snap underneath you. For the first time all day, you see Billy smile. His hand goes to your panties again and you flinch, bracing for the pain.

“Want these off?”

You nod rapidly.

“Yes, sir. Please.”

“So polite, what a sweet little whore you are.”

He slips your panties off and the relief that washes over you is so immense you start to cry as he gets back to fucking you.

“Fuck,” you whimper out, unable to help yourself. The contrast is so incredible, and your clit is so sensitive that every brush against his pelvis makes your body shiver. Billy zeros in on this and asks you to touch yourself while he fucks you, your other hand still holding back your leg. All you can handle are slow swirls on your clit, but it's enough to make the shivers roaming your body constant and heavy.

Your eyes go unfocused as you get lost in the feeling of him fucking into you over and over. It feels so fucking perfect it makes you sob.

“Baby,” the word dribbles out against your will and his mouth comes down over yours. He's so good to you, helping you keep quiet because he knows you can't help it. He's so thoughtful. Your breath catches as your stomach drops and you feel yourself getting close. A nervous moan purrs onto his tongue while your pussy is slowly turning to liquid gold.

“Yeah,” he coos against your lips, “Cum on my cock, cum like a slut.”

Your pussy walls squeeze around him while your whole body thrums from the inside out, humming like a rung bell. You can't help the tears and the babbling words falling out of your shaky lips as you ride the delicious fullness of this feeling. His hand moves to the back of your neck, still roughly fucking you until his orgasm forces him out of rhythm.

“Fuck,” he pants “fuck, I love my perfect slut.”

Those words and his perfect cock are enough to set you off again, your eyes rolling back as he drills you into oblivion for the second time. He pumps thick, hot cum into you, coating you inside and then keeps going, groaning loudly. He kisses your forehead, your brain bleary. Your lower body hardly feels like it exists anymore, all you can feel is a luxurious pleasure and all you can see are his gorgeous blue eyes.

Fuck. This is all you need in life.

Finally, his hips slow to a stop and the two of you are left panting. The weight of his warm body slowly sinks onto you as he breathes onto your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him.

He kisses your neck.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft and low. You nod.

“Are you?”

His arms wrap around you.

“I needed that so much, baby.”

You push your hand into his hair, gently stroking his scalp.

“What had you so upset, lovey?”

He snuggles into you, still buried inside you as his body recovers. He groans.

“Fuck it. C’mere.”

The two of you make your way into the bathroom where he joins you in a shower. You take your time together, washing each other and taking long breaks to mingle tongues in the gathering steam. His hands are so gentle as they move across your body. So different from the way he was in bed, as a living ball of anger. You lean your head against his shoulder, trying to keep your hair dry but at the same time not caring.

Later, in warmth and the soft leftover smell of your bodies on the sheets, he pulls you into his lap. He takes your hand into his own, his fingers running along your palm as you lay against him, hearing the rhythm of his breathing.

“Why do I answer?”

You’re nearly asleep when he asks this to no one, and your eyes flutter open to find the room growing dark. You can hardly see him in the fading light. Maybe that’s what he wants. In any case, he keeps his eyes down at your hands. You know instantly what he means.

“I don’t know,” you say, “There’s probably plenty of reasons.”

You turn, touching a hand to his cheek and kissing the other one, your lips trail down to his neck where you nuzzle in, amazed, as you always are, by the warmth he collects inside himself.

“Fuckin stupid thing to do.” He whispers.

“It’s not stupid.” you say, softly, your fingers slipping up to play with the hair behind his ear. “It’s just more than he deserves. He’s your dad, so there’s supposed to be something to gain from answering his calls. But he’s a failure, so it’s just bullshit every time.” you yawn, “You’re not stupid, lovey. You’re just too generous.”

He turns, finding your mouth and enveloping it into a slow, lazy kiss as you lounge on the broken bed. His tongue is soft and salty.

“Hmm,” you hum as the kiss gives way, “I love you, too.”

xoxo~

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #billy stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove 18+#miheartsedthings #no minors allowed

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metalhoops · 11 months

Text

Everyone who’s touched grief knows it’s bigger than two hands can hold. The inexperienced try to string together the right words to lighten the load and those who grieve wear a momentary mask of comfort, feeling instead heavier. Those who’ve experienced grief know there are not enough words in the world to replace something as simple as a small action.

You don’t remember the platitudes and false virtues strangers assign to the dead, but after a long day when you find your fridge full of precooked meals, you’ll remember who dropped off the potato salad. Max was sick of people who didn’t know her, telling her how kind her brother was. How funny he could be. How talented he was.

No one, save the rare few, know what to do with complex grief. Max didn’t know how to unpick her thoughts, let alone put them into words and hold them up for someone else to see and understand. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to be understood.

She didn’t know how she could miss someone so deeply while being in some small part, glad they were dead. No one tells you what to do when your thoughts betray you.

By the time Max and her mother moved into the trailer park, people had stopped telling her how much they missed Billy, which was a small blessing. They’d also stopped dropping off food or offering to do their laundry. Max and her mother had been too proud to take anyone up on that offer, but she missed the thought.

Two months had passed, and it felt like everyone forgot Billy existed, that anything had happened. Lucas and the other boys had started asking her to hang out again. The unspoken grace period given to her and her mother for mourning had ended. Now it was back to business as usual. Her mother returned to work, and Max was left alone in an empty trailer full of boxes.

That was when Steve arrived with a Tupperware container under one arm and a fancy untouched toolbox under the other.

“Figured you’d need some help,” the boy muttered, kicking off his shoes, not waiting to be invited in.

He knew better. If he’d asked, Max would’ve told him to piss off. She couldn’t understand why Steve of all people was able to read her moods so well.

Steve hadn’t been much help rebuilding the furniture, but he’d supplied the Allen key and screwdriver so she couldn’t complain. He was good at unpacking boxes. With the two of them working, the task had taken a day, as opposed to the week it would’ve if she’d done it on her own. She was meant to be in school that day, but she couldn’t bring herself to go. She’d expected that to be the last she saw of the older boy but instead, he made a habit of checking in on her.

Steve kept dropping off meals. After a week he started driving Max around on the days the mere mention of school threatened to topple her. Sometimes she’d hang around the back of the video store. On other days he’d drop her off at the arcade and she’d play Dig Dug until her eyes burnt and her fingers cramped.

She didn’t know exactly when it’d happened but somewhere along the way, she found herself getting strangely attached to the guy. She’d lost one brother but gained another.

That was why when Steve stopped driving home at night, she’d sent Eddie to get him.

Max didn’t know much about Eddie Munson. His uncle and Max’s mother infrequently drank coffee together at the communal picnic tables. Nothing ever happened. Max knew her mother and how she acted around her boyfriends. This was different. They just sat together, mostly in silence, watching the sun go down. It kept her mother from drinking so much or so early. What Max did know about Eddie Munson was that he owed her.

One night when her mother was out, the cops came poking around the trailer park, asking her if she’d seen anything suspicious. Max wasn’t dumb, quite the opposite. She knew Eddie sold drugs. She also knew the cops wanted to pin something on him. She wasn’t altogether sure why, maybe there was some pressure to put someone behind bars from the kinds of places that had neighbourhood watches.

It was only when crime started to leak into the suburbs that people went searching for the culprits. Some rich kid spikes a girl’s drink in Loch Nora and the next thing you know, they’re looking for drug dealers in trailer parks. The guy will get a smack on the wrist, while Eddie? He’ll get thrown in jail and the people of Hawkins will sleep a little better at night, knowing all is right and just in the world. Until the same guy does it again. Then another trailer park kid is marched off to the stocks.

Max had learnt how the world worked young. It’d been out of some strange sense of solidarity that she’d kept her mouth shut about Eddie. When the cops split, she’d given him the heads up to keep his nose clean while there was blood in the water. She hadn’t done it for a favour. But if nothing else, she was opportunistic.

Steve wasn’t driving home most nights. Max knew because she’d take note when the Beamer shot past the trailer park. Some days it was in the dead of night, others, the early hour of the morning. He wasn’t staying over at girls’ places like she’d first thought. Even if he wasn’t the golden boy he’d once been if someone slept with Steve Harrington, the whole town knew within the week.

She’d followed him one afternoon, riding her skateboard at a safe distance. He’d drive around, past their houses, as though on his own neighbourhood watch. He’d finish his patrol and pull up at any number of odd locations, the train tracks, the junkyard, the woods. At first, she’d worried he, like Billy, was possessed. After long days of silent observation, she realised the kind of ghosts that possessed Steve were of his own making.

Max didn’t know what to do until she saw the light on in the Munson’s trailer past midnight. She stalked across the way, pounded her fists on the fly screen, and called in a favour. She asked Eddie to check on Steve. He’d looked at her like she’d grown a third head but agreed.

Eddie Munson didn’t do favours but Red was a good kid, so he’d made an exception. He began his quest by driving past the Harrington’s manor, hoping for his own sake to find the BMW parked in the drive but Max had been right, Steve wasn’t home, nobody was.

Eddie was tempted to check all the usual spots he’d go if he were a meathead jock with ample time and money. There was skull rock, the notorious Harrington make-out spot and a has-been jock party was going on in the next suburb over from Loch Nora, but Red’s instructions had been clear. If Steve wasn’t at home, she’d rattled off a list of places he might be, each one growing stranger.

That was how Eddie Munson ended up in the junkyard. The place was surprisingly well-lit, despite the late hour. He worked his way through an overgrown thicket, cursing himself for wearing his white Reeboks. He’d be scrubbing out grass stains with a toothbrush for the next week.

Mounds of trash and scrap metal shot out of the dried grass like rocks rising from the ocean. Amongst it all, burning bright as a lighthouse was a rusting yellow school bus. It stood in stark contrast against the blue, black night. A dull glow bled out of the vehicle’s shattered windows.

Eddie found himself drawn to the little island of light as a moth flocks to a flame. His feet moved swiftly, eager as a young child at the prospect of adventure. He slipped in through the half-open door of the bus and was greeted by another body slamming into his.

Eddie’s head cracked against the metal bus frame, making him groan. It wasn’t until he tried to move that he realised there was something sharp pressed against his neck. Against all his better judgment Eddie swallowed, feeling a broken bottle nip at his skin.

Eddie’s eyes flickered to the wielder of the weapon. A once mighty king had fallen like his surrounding kingdom, into a state of disrepair. Steve Harrington. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

“Harrington,” Eddie spoke, keeping his voice soft and even, as though speaking to a wild animal that could startle.

There was a manic look in Steve’s eyes Eddie knew well. He’d never thought he’d see the ghost of himself dance across such a pretty and foreign face. The days before Eddie moved in with Wayne were better left alone. He knew the wide-eyed vigilance of people who’d grown used to fending for their lives. It was a look he’d never imagine Steve Harrington capable of.

A glint of recognition shifted over Steve’s face and the eyes of years long past were gone as though a trick of the light. The bottle disappeared from his neck, shattering as it dropped against the floor of the bus.

“Shit, Munson. Sorry,” Steve uttered, moving out of Eddie’s space.

Eddie was surprised Steve remembered his name. Across the six-odd years the two had gone to school together, Harrington had spoken to him a grand total of three times. The first, to ask for a pencil in Spanish. The second had been a disgruntled ‘hey, man’ as Eddie sidestepped his lunch tray on one of his biweekly jaunts across the jock table and the third, which Eddie only now recalled, had surprised him.

He’d gotten a D in history. It’d been the final nail in the coffin, solidifying the fact that he’d once again have to repeat his senior year. Eddie spent the rest of the class carving his name into the underside of his desk with his thumbnail until it was bloody and covered in splinters.

He’d almost lasted until the end of class before he had to excuse himself with little plan of where he was going or what he was doing. He knew he wanted to get away, that he needed to be anywhere but there. He wasn’t sure what’d tipped Harrington off but as he shuffled past the former king’s desk, his eyes downcast, a hand shot out to snag Eddie’s forearm.

“Hey, Munson? There’s always next year,” Steve muttered under his breath.

From anyone else, it would’ve sounded condescending, but Steve genuinely meant it. Eddie hadn’t known what to say. He’d felt a sudden lump rise in his throat. He took off, thinking it’d be the last time he’d see Steve Harrington. He’d wished he’d been so lucky.

“So, Harrington, what’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” Eddie asked when his heart rate returned to a regular rhythm. He heard a snort escape Steve’s throat as he leaned back against the opposite wall of the bus.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Eddie wanted to know when Steve had started to sound so world-wearied. Nineteen-year-olds shouldn’t sound so worn thin. The closer he looked at Steve, the more he saw. His eyes were chaliced with the kind of purple, blue bruises that came from weeks of sleeplessness. There was a pale pink scar, slicing a line from his bottom lip to his jaw. In time, it’d fade into obscurity, but for now, in the cold of the night, it stood out like a crack in fine china.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, sliding down the wall to a seated position, as though once again settling in for the night. Eddie heard glass tinkle and grind under Steve’s body.

Had his parents kicked him out? Was he hiding from someone? Eddie knew fuck all about Steve Harrington and he’d liked it that way. Screw not doing favours. Red owed him one after all this was said and done.

“Finding a new place to pedal goods. New chief of police has been riding my ass,” Eddie lied. It wasn’t as though he was going to tell Steve he was sent on a fetch quest by a fourteen-year-old.

A flicker of pain shifted across Steve’s face before disappearing. It was a moon sinking below the horizon line, leaving no trace of the momentary night as a false smile painted his face the colour of a sunrise.

“Can’t say I’d recommend this old rust bucket. Isn’t drug dealing in a junkyard a little cliche?” Eddie rolled his eyes and sank to the floor of the bus, nudging Steve’s foot with his.

“Keep giving me lip and you’ll have to pay double.”

Harrington never brought from him. The freckled asshat, he used to hang around with would buy weed once in a blue moon, but never Steve.

“You got anything on you?” He asked to Eddie’s surprise. He hadn’t exactly come prepared. He searched the depths of his pockets, finding two small ziplock bags and half a pack of rolling paper. He threw them Steve’s way.

“On the house. Looks like you need it,” He mused and watched as Steve’s fingers worked, quick and methodical. Hagan had obviously shared his stash with Harrington.

“Got a light?”

Eddie fetched his Zippo from his back pocket and leaned over to light Steve’s joint. The guy looked surprised. He should’ve handed the lighter over. Too late now.

Steve’s lips were poised so close to Eddie’s fingers. His face illuminated by flame, caused Eddie to shift closer. He lifted a hand to Steve’s cheek, acting under the guise of trying to shield the flame from the breeze filtering in through the broken windows and half-open door.

“You got anything stronger?” Steve spoke, breathing a plume of smoke into the night air. Eddie wasn’t sure it was wise, but he’d never counted wisdom as his strong suit.

“Back at my place.” Steve snorted, smoke billowing from his half-pursed lips, his eyes beginning to haze over.

“People’ll talk.”

People always talked when it came to Steve, but surely not in the way the boy was implying. Ramrod straight, Steve Harrington couldn’t make a gay quip, not about himself. Maybe he was embarrassed about what being seen with Eddie could do to his dwindling reputation.

“I’m pretty good at keeping a low profile,” Eddie supplied, and Steve nodded stoically.

“Stealthy, like a ninja,” Steve replied.

It was Eddie’s turn to choke out a laugh. Goofy had never been a quality he’d assigned to Steve Harrington. He supposed the trait had its charm. It worked on Eddie.

“Like a ninja,” Eddie echoed.

When he’d said yes to Red, he’d assumed he’d drag Steve’s likely-intoxicated, ex-jock ass home and call it a night, but looking at the boy across from him with the joint tucked between his lips and the thousand-yard-stare, Eddie had to admit there was a change of plans.

“Have you heard about the world’s best ninja?” Eddie asked, his once pristine shoes nudged themselves beneath Steve’s Born in the USA style blue jeans.

Steve shook his head, a flicker of curiosity dancing over his face, his stupid floppy hair, falling in his eyes.

“That’s why he’s the best,” Eddie insisted and felt his insides grow warm when Steve cackled. He was pretty when he laughed. He looked more like the guy he’d been back in high school, more carefree.

Eddie wasn’t a stranger to sitting with people and talking them down on their worst nights, but a relative stranger was new.

Eddie stood and extended a hand to Steve. The boy clasped onto his ringed fingers and pulled himself up.

“My van’s parked half a mile up the way, you coming?” Steve shrugged and followed close at Eddie’s side.

The two walked in relative silence, standing so close their hips played the role of balls in a Newton’s cradle, knocking against one another in a rhythmic pattern.

Back in the familiar landscape of his van, Eddie was once again hit with the strangeness of the situation as he watched Steve slide into his passenger seat, snubbing out the remains of the joint in the ashtray. He thought of their spit mingling in the little petri dish and pushed that thought aside. He’d always been good at holding back those kinds of thoughts. It came with the territory.

“Why do you need something strong?” Eddie asked as he turned the ignition.

If he’d learnt anything from his uncle, it was that hard conversations were best had behind the wheel. That way no one could storm out. He’d admitted to his uncle he’d failed his first senior year as the two sat at the juncture between Maple and Main. He’d come out to Wayne along Lakeside Dr.

“Why did you really come to the junkyard?” Steve countered. He was smarter than he looked, or at least, smarted than Eddie had assumed.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Eddie quipped after a second, watching as a bemused smirk twitched onto Steve’s face.

“It’s been a hard year, man. Hard couple of years,” Steve confessed. Eddie wasn’t going to let him get off that easy.

“Is this to do with you getting unceremoniously shunted off the top of the Hawkins’ High totem pole?” Eddie asked.

He had a feeling whatever it was ran far deeper than just popularity, but this was Steve Harrington. Steve was pretty and popular. He wasn’t allowed to have real problems. That’s not how the rich and stuck-up operated.

“Honestly? No. Think that might’ve been a good thing.” Steve drummed his fingers against the passenger door.

“Then was it the thing with Wheeler?” Eddie asked, watching Steve cringe. Maybe he should leave it alone.

“Part of it. I don’t know.” What followed was a loaded silence.

Eddie kept casting glimpses from Steve to the road, watching as his face screwed in concentration as he searched for words.

“I feel like it’s my job to protect everybody,” He admitted, his voice barely raising above a whisper.

“And I don’t know how. I feel like I’m supposed to have all the answers but I just... I feel like a kid, who’s in way over his head.” Steve pulled his knees up to his chest, and settled his chin on them, not daring to look in Eddie’s direction.

He was a year older than Steve and he felt like a lost kid most of the time, as though he was an imposter masquerading as someone who knew what the hell he was doing. He wondered if that feeling ever went away.

“Red sent me to check up on you. The kid’s worried,” Eddie confessed watching as Steve’s head snapped to look in his direction.

“She’s got enough on her plate without worrying about me.”

Steve didn’t need to say what Max was dealing with. Eddie knew. Hawkins was a small town, and Billy Hargreaves was infamous. Eddie had a bad feeling about the guy from day one, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel sorry for him, dying in a mall fire. Hell of a way to go. He’d heard rumours Max had been there when it happened. Then again, he’d also heard talk of Steve slinging ice cream at the mall. Eddie could see a picture beginning to form. He didn’t like it.

The two didn’t speak for the rest of the drive back to Eddie’s trailer. There was nothing left to say. Steve continued to tap his fingers absentmindedly, so Eddie leaned over, turning on the radio. The tape deck played the thrashing guitar and pounding beats of the latest Slayer album. Eddie liked it well enough, but he cringed, preparing for Steve to chew it up and spit it out. He didn’t. He shut his eyes, rested his head against the passenger window and promptly fell asleep. Eddie would be damned.

Unsure of what to do with the sleeping boy and the blaring music, Eddie drove in circles around all the familiar back roads of Hawkins, steering clear of the potholes and dirt tracks. It wasn’t until Eddie’s eyes started to droop that he called it a night, pulling up outside his trailer, flicking his floodlights twice in the direction of the Mayfield’s, letting Max know he’d gotten Steve home safe. Well, he’d gotten Steve to his home safely.

Eddie was contemplating the logistics of getting Steve out of the car when the boy began to stir. His eyes fluttered open for a second to meet Eddie’s before he groaned and turned to bury his face into the car seat. Damn it all. Eddie had managed to go for years without developing a crush on Steve, it wasn’t goddamn fair he was about to do it now.

“Good morning, Starshine,” Eddie teased, walking around to open the passenger door for Steve.

“Welcome to my humble abode. I have drugs or you know... a comfortable bed. Pick your poison,” Eddie spoke as the two made their way to his trailer.

As they stepped into the main room, Eddie watched as Steve’s eyes scanned the place, lingering on Wayne’s collection of mugs and novelty hats, a ghost of a smile on his face. Eddie grabbed onto Steve’s wrist and led him down the hall.

“The drugs and the bed are in my room,” Eddie explained as they went.

Eddie nudged the door to his room open with a flourish of his hands.

“This is where the magic happens,” Eddie explained and watched as Steve quirked a brow.

“Mind out of the gutter, Harrington. I was talking about literal magic.” Eddie smirked gesturing to his stack of Dungeons and Dragons’ manuals, handbooks, and campaign notes.

“You’re such a nerd,” Steve grumbled flopping onto Eddie’s bed.

Maybe it was the high that’d made him seem looser, but Eddie liked a Steve who took charge. He crawled under the covers, making himself at home in Eddie’s bed.

“Demogorgons suck ass,” Steve uttered after a moment, his face muffled by Eddie’s pillow. He wondered if he’d fallen asleep on the ride home and driven them into a ditch, because there was no way Steve was in his bed, talking about D&D. Eddie liked demogorgons, something he elegantly articulated by muttering,

“You suck ass.” As he flopped beside Steve in bed. Steve snorted.

“That’s one thing I haven’t tried,” he confessed. Yes, he was high. Eddie couldn’t imagine a sober Steve making that confession openly.

Eddie settled on top of the covers, hyperaware a sober Steve might not be as receptive to waking up beside Eddie. He was in over his head.

“Are you okay with this?” Eddie questioned as he rolled over to lay on his side, propping his head up to get a better look at Steve, half smothered in his sheets. As much as people talked about Steve’s love life, they also talked less favourably about Eddie’s, or his lack thereof.

“You’re not going to punch me in the face in the morning?” Eddie concluded, voicing his concerns. His heart was tugging him closer to Steve, but he wasn’t willing to do anything they’d both regret.

He’d been shockingly open to letting the boy into his innermost sanctum. Maybe he had a saviour complex, but he wanted to know how much of a commitment the two would have, how long was the piece of rope that tied them together? Was it a momentary truce or the start of something?

“No,” Steve breathed after a beat, seeming equal parts understanding and offended Eddie had asked.

The two lapsed into silence. Eddie was left wondering if Steve had fallen asleep again, but the rise and fall of the boy’s chest was too shallow. Steve eventually let out a groan and rolled to face Eddie. Whatever momentary reprieve had allowed him to sleep in the car had passed.

Eddie’s gaze was once again drawn to the growing blue beneath Steve’s eyes. He had stuff that could help Steve sleep, but he knew from experience, drugs could only do so much. They were numbing jell on a knife wound, a momentary relief from pain without fixing the real problem.

“Can’t sleep?” Eddie spoke, trying to get inside Steve’s head, to unpick what was going on with him. Steve nodded miserably.

“Anything I can do to help?” Eddie wondered.

There were no guidelines for the strange turn the night had taken. Steve opened and shut his mouth, gaping like a fish on dry land. He had some thoughts, it appeared, but none he was willing to voice right away. Eddie felt strangely endeared to the boy in his bed. He’d give him anything he asked, even if he didn’t think it was smart.

“Is it true, what people say about you?” Steve asked after a long pause.

That wasn’t what Eddie had expected. He blanched and watched as Steve’s eyes swelled, his panic rolling off him in waves, crashing head-on into Steve.

“Never mind, don’t answer that. Christ, that was invasive. Sorry,” Steve fumbled, sinking further beneath Eddie’s sheets to hide his face. It appeared it was a night for confessions.

“Were you asking about the satanic shit or the gay thing?” Eddie spoke candidly, his fingers knotting in the covers.

You didn’t come out to just anyone. You sure as hell didn’t come out to someone like Steve unless you had a death wish, though Eddie was quickly learning the Steve Harrington that existed in his head and the one lying in his bed were two different creatures.

“Forget I asked,” Steve repeated, rolling over to turn away from Eddie, a faint flush dusting his cheeks.

“I don’t worship the devil and I’m not gay,” Eddie found himself confiding.

He watched as Steve’s body went still. Eddie couldn’t see his face, but he could tell his mind had kicked into overdrive.

“Oh, cool,” Steve spoke sounding suddenly distant, as though that hadn’t been the answer he was looking for. Eddie didn’t know Steve Harrington at all.

“But I’d be lyin’ if I said you were the first guy I’ve had in here, Steve,” Eddie continued, giving away more than he’d intended.

Steve peered over his shoulder and quirked a brow. He didn’t look shocked or disgusted as Eddie had anticipated. He looked relieved.

“Like Bowie?” He wondered aloud. Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yeah, like Bowie- I mean, I have a preference. Guys suit me better, I guess. But sometimes a girl’ll surprise me.”

The conversation felt intimate, surprisingly more so than when he’d admitted it to the guys in Corroded Coffin. With them, there hadn’t been follow-up questions. The guys had been supportive, but they hadn’t known what to say. It’d been another fact about Eddie they’d taken in their stride without much acknowledgement. He hadn’t felt the need to explain himself. He didn’t know why, but when it came to Steve, he felt like he needed to explain the whole thing in intimate detail.

“Me too,” Steve muttered, sounding entirely unlike himself. He was quiet and unsure; two traits Eddie had never assigned to the Steve that lived in his head.

“I mean... for me, girls are easy. Guys are... new?” Once more, Steve sounded unsure.

“Maybe not new because it’s always been there but I just left it alone.” Eddie wondered what’d spurred on the change, whether it was a near-death experience or something else entirely. Eddie was good at reading between the lines.

“Steve, I’m going to ask you again, okay? What do you want me to do?”

Steve sucked air in through his teeth, gripped the sheets and finally let his shoulders sag.

“Can you just... hold me, for a bit?” Steve asked at last, sounding as though Eddie had placed a loaded gun to his head. Of all the things Eddie had been expecting, that wasn’t it.

Eddie moved closer, lining up his hips and Steve’s back, throwing an arm around the boy’s waist. It was different. Eddie was used to closeted guys wanting to have sex with him, but they didn’t hang around long after.

He thought back to Steve’s words. The guy wanted to protect everybody, from god knows what, but who was looking out for him? He hooked his chin on Steve’s shoulder. He smelled faintly of cologne and something chemical, hairspray.

“This okay?” Eddie clarified. Steve’s body felt stiff and unresponsive in his arms.

Steve hummed. It took him a moment to relax but when he did, he practically melted into Eddie. The boy pushed back, fitting their knees together. Eddie was thankful they’d decided to keep their jeans on, fearful of what any more skin-to-skin contact would do. Steve cradled Eddie’s palm to his heart and dropped his chin to his chest, so Eddie could feel the ghost of the boy’s breath dance across his fingertips. Steve was a renowned good lay, but the Harrington charm went deeper than that. The guy was good at cuddling, something Eddie hadn’t thought was possible until he had every inch of Steve pressed and curled against him.

“This okay for you?” Steve asked after a moment, his breath tickled against Eddie’s knuckles.

“Great for me,” Eddie confirmed sounding as breathless as he felt.

Steve’s heart beneath his hand thundered, letting Eddie know the boy wasn’t as cool and collected as he was pretending to be. He didn’t point it out. He did two things very out of character for Eddie Munson. He remained still and silent. Steve’s breath grew deep and even. Eddie leaned closer, pressing his face into the nape of Steve’s neck as the boy began to whimper in his sleep.

“I got you,” He assured.

“You’re safe. M’not going to let anything happen to you.” Eddie promised.

It took time, but Steve settled and at last, Eddie let the long night swallow him whole.

Max decided Eddie Munson was useless. She’d watched him pull up outside his trailer around three and she hadn’t heard from him since. She’d thought the idiot would at least give her a heads up on how things had gone with Steve, but it appeared she had to do everything for herself.

At 10 a.m. when there was still no sign of life from the Munson’s trailer, save for Eddie’s uncle pulling in around six, Max stalked over and wrapped her knuckles against Eddie’s bedroom window. After a moment a mop of curly brown hair popped into view.

“Wha?” The boy grumbled, still half asleep.

“How did things go last night?” Max asked, taking the tone of a scolding mother, talking to a very small, very dumb child.

“Good,” Eddie confided a goofy grin crossing his face. It confirmed Max’s suspicions. Everyone else, save her, was useless.

“Well, where the hell was he? Did you talk to him? Did he seem weird? Is he okay?” Max rattled off a list of rapid-fire questions only to be hushed by Eddie.

“He’s sleeping, Red. Keep the volume down.”

Max opened her mouth to ask what the hell Eddie was talking about when she caught a familiar glimpse of styled, sandy hair peeking out from beneath the sheets. Max, unlike most people, wasn’t an idiot. She’d grown up in California, she knew the way the world worked. She didn’t need anyone to spell it out for her.

“Gross,” She grumbled. Not because Steve and Eddie were both men but because Steve was like her older brother and Eddie was- she didn’t want to think about it.

Max let out an elongated sigh, squared her shoulders and spoke.

“You like scary movies, right Munson?” He seemed like the type.

Eddie nodded.

“Michael Myers hasn’t got a thing on Max Mayfield. You do anything stupid with Steve and I’ll show you how I got the nickname Mad Max.”

Eddie swallowed thickly and nodded. It was all for show, but someone had to say it. Someone should always be in Steve’s corner. Max had the feeling Steve wasn’t used to people looking out for him. She knew the feeling.

“Sir yes sir,” He breathed, faking a salute. Max rolled her eyes.

She had a feeling she was going to regret bringing Steve and Eddie together but when hours later, Steve showed up at her house with a Tupperware container full of spaghetti and a secret smile on his lips, she had to admit, for once she might be wrong.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #ficlet #stranger things #bi steve harrington #bi eddie munson #Fluff and angst #sharing a bed #Pre season 4 #post season 3 #alternative 'first' meeting #max mayfield #honestly bi 4 bi is my steddie headcanon #I know it's not as popular #maybe it's my own bias as a bisexual showing #but I feel like bi rep #it is always either someone who is generally #into someone of the opposite sex #who has an 'oh I like this person' moment and realises they are bi #or someone who 50/50 likes both genders #give me more 'well I knew I was into the same sex'#but wow every once in a blue moon I'm smacked in the face #with opposite sex attraction and thrown for a loop #because that's closer to my personal experience #anyway that's my rant #also Max and Steve's relationship is cool #so I wanted to explore it more #metalhoops writes

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greensagephase · 9 months

Text

Nonviolent Communication - Part Three

Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: You reminisce on your past life on Peter's birthday.

Warning: Some angst, mention of death

Word Count: 6,194

Music inspo while writing:

"I'll Be Seeing You" - Billie Holiday

"Self Love" - Metro Boomin, Coi Leray

Part Three

A few weeks go by since the day you accidentally intruded on Miguel’s emotional breakdown after he discovered the hidden folder containing memories of his previous life. Each week is the same since then, but things are slightly different. You still arrive at the meetings before anyone else with your coffee cups. One for you and for him. You don’t give him any more excuses like you used to, like stating that the cafeteria staff gave you an extra one. You’ve started to just greet Miguel and place the cup in front of him. He now looks up at you and nods before you go to your seat, his way of acknowledging you and your gesture. You notice as you review the reports that he now starts drinking the coffee as other members begin to arrive. The coffee cup no longer sits ignored like before, growing cold. It makes you feel something you can’t describe.

You also continue to clean the lab once a week. You show up at the same time as always. Lyla continues to pepper you with questions and sometimes she tells you about her day, including Miguel’s mood for the day. You find it funny as she complains sometimes. You don’t fail to notice that during your once a week organizing time, Miguel is on his platform still, but he is no longer high up in the air like he used to. No, when you arrive, the platform is on ground level as he scans his monitors doing who knows what. Another change you’ve noticed since then is that sometimes he acknowledged you and other times he didn’t. Now he gives you a “hmm” when you greet him, informing him you’re there to organize the lab for the week. There’s still no discussion between you, though sometimes you get the sense that he listens in on your conversations with Lyla.

You have never told anyone, not even your close friends like Jessica, Miles, Hobie or the rest of the group, which adopted you into their group almost immediately after your recruitment into the Spider Society, about what Miguel did for you the day you were unwell or what happened the following day at his lab. You don’t mention the small changes you have noticed even though your friends sometimes tease you about organizing the lab. They wonder how you can handle being in the lab with Miguel alone since they all believe that he ignores you the entire time. You just laugh it off each time. Each time explaining that it doesn’t bother you and you just enjoy organizing the lab. It doesn’t matter to you if he talks to you or not. Unknowingly, your friends often wonder, though they never bring it up to you, if you have a thing for Miguel. They hope you don’t as they believe that Miguel will never reciprocate your feelings if you do have any for him beyond platonic ones.

They know about Miguel’s past of course, being the ones that had to deal with his strong beliefs about the multiverse which had being the reason for him launching a multiverse hunt for Miles a few months earlier. They also think that it will probably take years for Miguel to fully move on, if he even moves on at all. You don’t know your friends often talk about this though. You don’t even think about this being a possibility. Why would you? You don’t think anyone will have the wrong impression. You yourself don’t see it as anything beyond wanting to be there for someone who could use some support. It wasn’t like you had feelings for Miguel that way, or so you told yourself.

No, this had all started because you were intrigued by him. This was why you had allowed yourself to be interested. No other reason. Except, you had believed that by indulging your interest in him, it would fade away. You were very wrong as you now felt even more of a pull towards him. You now knew more about his life, and it gave you a clearer picture of him and his past. None of this has made you lose interest though. You can’t help but want to be there for him even if the founder of the Spider Society is still closed off.

You sigh as you walk through the cafeteria, holding your mask. It’s the early afternoon, which means the cafeteria is full. Still, you smile as you walk by, seeing all the various versions of Spider-Man. You remember the first time you were brought to HQ. You couldn’t believe that there were so many versions of you, all intertwined by your spider gifts. It was incredible in so many ways.

Of course, another wonderful thing about the Spider Society was knowing that there were others like you, who experienced some of the same effects of being a superhero. The life of a superhero isn’t easy. It is a constant state of living two lives. One that you desperately try to make as normal as possible by doing mundane things like grocery shopping or having a normal job. The other includes desperately trying to conceal your identity, hoping that you can remain anonymous for your own safety. This is especially important if you have family that you want to protect as well.

The normal life you try to lead can become exhausting though. How many times can you make excuses for missing events or being late? How can you explain random disappearances? Being a superhero sometimes feels like being two-faced. Thus, knowing that there were others like you, who understood what it was like, was a wonderful thing. You each understood each other very well.

Still walking, you head to the coffee station and grab two coffees. It’s that day of the week that you go and organize the lab. You quickly head over there, hoping that you can finish soon as today is an important day.

It’s Peter’s birthday. Or rather… it would’ve been his birthday today. You smile as you walk over to the lab, thinking about Peter. Your sweet Peter. He would’ve been twenty-six today. You sigh deeply, unable to stop yourself from feeling sadness. You wish he was still here. You wish you could’ve saved him… You stop yourself from going there. Not today, you think. Today you will celebrate Peter. You will go home, and you will bake his favorite cake and you will celebrate on your own. Just the way you have done all the previous years.

You nod, with determination. Yes, you will organize the lab and head back to your universe. You will make it a great day in Peter’s honor. You stop before reaching the lab’s door and call for Lyla. You wait.

“Y/N! It’s that time of the week! I’ll tell Miguel you’re here, hold on,” Lyla says disappearing and then appearing again. “You can come in!”

You nod and enter the lab, Lyla following you. You take in the lab, finding Miguel on his platform as usual. You notice he has his face closer to a monitor, apparently inspecting something.

“Good afternoon,” you say as you walk over to the closest surface to Miguel. You place one of the coffee cups and head over to one of the other surfaces to scan what you’ll be organizing, setting your mask and coffee cup down.

“Hmm,” Miguel acknowledges you.

You begin separating different pieces into categories. It’s been months now since you first started organizing so you have a system on where everything goes. You move with ease and speed, your mind focused on the task.

“Woah, woah. Why are you so fast today?” Lyla asks near you, watching you with curiosity.

You turn to her and smile. “Am I too quick for you today?”

Lyla gives you a look, sliding her heart-shaped glasses down her nose to look at you directly. “You are going way too fast today. You have plans or something?” she asks.

You chuckle. “Why does it sound like you don’t think I have plans?”

“Because you usually say you only stay at home…” Lyla says trailing off.

You frown. “I don’t only stay at home. I do other things. I’ve told you, I go to the bookstore sometimes on the weekend or I go to the park – why am I even explaining myself?” you ask, turning away from Lyla who now has a huge grin on her face as if you just proved her point.

“That’s what I’m saying. You don’t do anything. You think going to the bookstore is fun?” she asks floating to face you as you continue to separate pieces in groups.

“It is fun if you like reading,” you answer pointedly.

“Okay, fine. Reading is fun! But you’re ignoring my question – do you have plans today or something? You’re speeding through this,” Lyla comments, looking down at the surface with almost all the pieces organized. There are still other surfaces to organize but at this rate, you’ll be done within half an hour.

You sigh. “I do, actually.”

Lyla nods, “So… what are you doing? Going on a date? Are you finally dating again, Y/N? Ah – please tell me you are –“ Lyla says excitedly but gets interrupted.

“Lyla!” Miguel calls for Lyla.

Lyla sighs annoyed. “Just when the conversation was about to get good. Duty calls,” she says disappearing from your view and presumably going to Miguel.

You focus on organizing, not paying attention to what Miguel wanted Lyla for. You pause for a second to take a sip of your coffee, making you turn to where you left the other cup for Miguel. It was gone, surprisingly without you even noticing. You could’ve sworn Miguel hadn’t even moved from his platform but when you look over at him with Lyla floating near his head, you see him holding the cup as he stares at a monitor.

You smile briefly before you turn around and continue. You really want to finish this quickly so you can head home and celebrate Peter. Your hands work swiftly, your brain already knows how to organize everything. You think about what you have planned.

You plan on visiting his gravestone again. You visited it this morning, leaving some fresh flowers in honor of his birthday. You usually go once a week to change out the old ones and to make sure his gravestone is clean, but you want to go again, to talk for a little while. Afterward, you plan on going to that ice cream place he absolutely loved to get some of his favorite ice cream flavor to pair with his cake. Then, you will head home and bake, probably listen to his favorite records as you do so.

Your mind is so wrapped up in your plans you don’t hear Lyla, suddenly in front of you as you have moved on to another surface.

“Hello! Is someone in there?” Lyla says, finally catching your attention.

You look up, surprised. “Oh – sorry, Lyla. I was a little distracted. Can you repeat what you said, please?”

Lyla rolls her eyes at you, taking a seat in mid-air with one leg crossed over the other.

“You are so distracted today. The reason for that better be a date.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No date for me today but I do have plans.”

“Oh, what do you have planned then?”

You slow down a bit on your organizing, a part of you wondering what Lyla will say about your plans. Some people may find your plans odd or maybe “too much.” So, you lie instead.

“I’m – going out with some friends. To watch a movie,” you say, giving her a smile in hopes that she will believe it.

She beams at you. “That’s great! What movie are you watching?”

“It’s about World War II, I think… It has this great Irish actor that my friends like,” you reply briefly, lying.

You continue to categorize the pieces of tech, picking up speed once again. You can’t help but think about your lie. You’re not only lying about your plans. You are also lying about having friends in your universe. You used to have friends back when Peter was alive but after what happened, you shut down. You didn’t have it in you to see them. To see how their lives were picking right back where they had paused when Peter’s death took place. You never held it against them, of course. It was just hard. You lost your person. Seeing your friends continue with their lives just made it harder to accept that life was moving on. Life was moving on without Peter, and you couldn’t bear it. You couldn’t bear the thought that one day he was there and the next he wasn’t.

You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that you had had everything with him for the last time. Like the last night with him, the night before he had passed away. You had laid together in bed, with his arms wrapped around you after you had taken a shower, having returned from patrolling the city.

It was always like that. You did your night patrolling while he waited at home, resting from his workday. You arrived and showered to wash away the filth of the city. You then slid into bed with him, where he already had the bed sheets warm for you. He smiled as he saw you approach the bed in your pajamas. He opened his arms, welcoming you into his warm and loving embrace. He held you in his arms, your back pressed into his chest. He always asked how the night shift went. You’d tell him everything, from funny things you witnessed to things that were straight up insane. He always enjoyed hearing you talk about your patrolling as he held you. At one point during the conversation, his thumb would always find its way to the back of your hand, caressing it, luring you to sleep. His head was always buried in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent. You always loved to make him laugh during these moments. His laugh was contagious, and you could always feel the vibrations of it across your back as he held you close. You cherished it each night. In those moments, you were no superhero. You were not Spider-Woman. You were just you, a woman sliding into the comfort of her bed with her loving partner. You didn’t have to do any saving or fighting. It was just Peter and you in your small, beautiful, and rundown apartment.

And so, the day you lost Peter, you couldn’t bear the thought that only the previous night, he had held you for the last time. You had heard his laugh next to your ear. Felt its vibrations spread through your back like warm water. Felt his warm breath on the crook of your neck. Had his arms wrapped around you protectively.

All of it for the last time.

Just like that.

The days started and ended. The city went on with its buzz. The sun appeared and disappeared. The stars shimmered in the night sky, flickering here and there as if waving hello. The moon bathed you during night patrolling, lighting your way back to a vacant apartment.

Earth continued spinning like you hadn’t lost the only family you had.

Everyone and everything moved on.

Without Peter.

So, you slowly but surely, started severing those friendships. A stupid side of you also thought your old friends were better off without you. You didn’t like to think about it often, but you carried guilt with you. Guilt that you could’ve done better. That you could’ve been faster. Smarter.

If you had been better at those things, maybe you wouldn’t have lost Peter. Maybe you would’ve reached him sooner. Maybe it would’ve given him more time to receive treatment and care.

Maybe, maybe, maybe –

It ate at you every day following his death.

What if, what if, what if -

You tell yourself to stop. Not today on Peter’s birthday. You clear your throat. Either way, you had ended your friendships – thinking that you were protecting them. They were probably safer away from you. You, Spider-Woman, who fought villains and petty crimes. And the other you, who tried to lead a normal life with a secret second life.

You didn’t have family either. You lost your parents shortly after graduating college, losing them to a car accident. You didn’t have siblings to share the loss with and you weren’t close with other relatives. Peter was your only remaining family, who was also alone, as he had lost his own version of Aunt May a few years prior.

You were utterly alone.

Until you were recruited into the Spider Society by Jessica Drew. You declined the invitation at first. You didn’t want to take on multiverse dangers. You thought it was going to distract you from your own universe and your city. Your beloved city, which you had promised Peter you would continue to protect as Spider-Woman. Jessica only persisted, eventually convincing you to join after she asked what Peter would have thought about the idea.

You agreed almost instantly. Peter would have been fascinated by the idea of the multiverse. He would have been delighted knowing that there were other versions of himself in the multiverse who were Spider-Man.

It was because of Peter that you had joined the Spider Society. Before you knew it, you had been introduced to the founder, the one that stood a few feet from you now. You were accepted the same day Jessica brought you to HQ, as the founder had a lot of trust in Jessica. The whole thing was about three minutes long, with Miguel staring at you as if his mind was somewhere else. He had said it was fine and threw in a stern “Welcome to the Spider Society” before he had walked away, his mind consumed by thoughts of his past life that you hadn’t learned of yet.

Thereafter, you were introduced to other spider members, meeting people such as Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Margo Kess, Ben Reilly, and others. You were quickly adopted into the group that Miles Morales was in. For some reason they quickly liked you. And so, for the first time in years, you found yourself sitting surrounded by people, engaging in conversation. You were let in on inside jokes. You laughed. You shook your head at the things the younger members said in disbelief sometimes, feeling like an older sibling to them. You ate at the cafeteria with them. You went on missions with them. You could trust them.

You had friends once again.

You have friends once again.

Just not in your universe.

You look up at Lyla, giving her a smile.

“Anyway, enough about me. What are you doing? Helping more spider members?” you ask, and Lyla rolls her eyes.

“You tease me too much sometimes. You know I obviously stick around with Miguel,” Lyla whispers the last bit, floating closer to you. “I don’t need sleep that often, but he does. And he hardly ever rests. You don’t know how exhausting it is to tell your human to rest for their own good only to be ignored.”

You tsk, shaking your head but don’t say anything as you fear Miguel might overhear you. At the end of the day, he’s still your boss. You sigh and finish organizing another surface. Lyla continues to chat with you, getting interrupted a few times as Miguel calls her for something. You eventually finish organizing everything, all in less than thirty minutes. You check your watch, wanting to know the time. You really need to get going.

“Hey, Miguel?” you say, preparing your gizmo. Miguel turns around just as you look up at him. “I’m done organizing the lab. Everything is organized as always.”

Miguel nods before he himself looks at his gizmo, perhaps to check the time, who knows.

“Oh. Thanks,” he says, still watching you from his platform. You fail to see a strange look on his face.

You nod. “Alright. Well, I’ll see you around!” you say, heading out the door but not before you say goodbye to Lyla. “Bye, Lyla!”

You hear Lyla say bye as the door closes behind you, leaving the Spider Society founder and his AI assistant alone. Lyla floats off to check something, but Miguel watches the door you just left through in a hurry. His brows are furrowed but he says nothing as he returns to his monitors once again.

Back in your universe, you swing through the city to the cemetery for the second time today. You reach it in no time, and you soon find Peter’s gravestone, his fresh flowers from this morning still lying as you placed them. As you had promised, you spend some time there, talking to him. Or his gravestone, rather. You tell him about missions you have gone on lately. The other universes you have seen and visited. You mention the villains and anomalies you have fought against or dealt with. You tell him about your friends and the things they said or did. You smile as you speak, knowing that if he was here, he would’ve loved them. And he really would’ve. Peter was a loving and caring man. He would’ve welcomed your friends into your humble apartment with no hesitation.

You tell him about your patrolling in your city. You still bring up the funny and weird stuff you have seen this week so far.

You wish you could hear his laugh again.

You wish he was here but not here in the cemetery.

You wish you weren’t here but at your apartment, with him waiting for you.

You wish, wish, wish…

That things were different.

You don’t bring up Miguel, who has been brought up before. If Peter listens to you, he’s no stranger to this man. He has heard about the man and your interest on him along with your emphasizing that it’s not like that. You’ve never questioned if it’s wrong. You have no other intentions.

About an hour later, you say your goodbye to Peter’s gravestone. You head to the ice cream shop he loved going to and as promised, bought his favorite flavor. You arrive at your apartment, placing the ice cream in the freezer to keep it good. You shower quickly and put on comfortable clothes. You make a quick dinner, feeling hungry. At this point in the day, it’s early in the evening.

You clean the mess in the kitchen from cooking dinner, leaving you a spotless kitchen for the baking. You walk over to your living room section and scan the records that are carefully put away. You pull out Peter’s favorites, preparing them for the evening. You put on one and turn on the lamps, setting the ambiance. You grab a photo of Peter from the living room console table, bringing it with you to the kitchen island. You place it so that it’s facing you as you bake.

With the music in the background, you gather your ingredients and utensils. You preheat the oven. You begin measuring the ingredients into a large bowl. You focus on this, and this alone. There will be no night patrolling tonight. Tonight, is for Peter only.

You measure and mix. It’s like a ritual. Your mind is flooded with memories of Peter. Some tears spill out of your eyes. You laugh quietly at yourself. You tell yourself to stop. Peter wouldn’t want to see you crying. You mix the batter with determination and wonder what he’d say if he saw you like this now; mixing the batter for his favorite cake while tears spill down your face like Niagara Falls.

“Darling don’t cry. I’m right here.”

Peter was an old-fashioned man when it came to love. He loved calling you darling or love. He held the door open for you everywhere. He opened the door when you took cabs, offering you his hand to help you step out. He followed the sidewalk rule, with you inside the sidewalk and him on the edge. He held your hand as you walked. He held the umbrella when it rained. He draped his coat in the winter over your shoulders to keep you warm. He kissed you goodnight. He kissed you goodbye each morning before going to work. He called you during the day, asking how and what you were doing. He brought flowers to you each week because “I just love seeing your face light up, darling”. You got double the flowers when it was your birthday or your anniversary. He made reservations for dinner. He planned dates every two weeks. The two of you going to random places in the city and other times outside the city. Sometimes it was as simple as going for a walk to the park with ice cream cones in hand, while holding hands.

He carried the groceries, despite you being stronger than him because of your spider gifts. You cooked together like you did back in your college days. Sharing the small kitchen place that was perfect for the two of you, standing near each other. The two of you would focus on different tasks as you talked about the day like how his day went at work or some crazy story from him taking the train.

He danced with you in the evenings. You knew when he was in the mood for it because he’d put Billie Holiday on. The blinds were drawn. The living room’s lamps were on, casting a soft light as the sweet jazz and swing notes filled the air. You’d sit on your couch reading a book that you could devour in a few hours, adding it to your bookshelf in the corner once you finished, overflowing it with books. You sat on that couch, the one that you had spent so much time selecting for this apartment with him when you first moved in.

The same one that you barely sit on now because it still reminds you of those moments. You don’t know how to cope with the fact that your reading is no longer interrupted by Peter’s hand appearing in front of your vision suddenly. You’d be reading, so engrossed in the story as he sat nearby, listening to his records, enjoying your presence before your night patrol. He’d suddenly stand up, fixing his shirt. He extended his arm out, his hand appearing in front of you. You’d look up from the book with a knowing look. You took his hand each time.

There was never a time you rejected it. Never.

He’d help you up, helping you place your book safely away because he knew how much you hated damaging your books. Once the book’s safety was ensured, he smiled down at you, taking your other hand. Billie Holiday filled the air, her sweet and soft voice tranquilizing and transporting the two of you to another dimension where only the two of you existed. It was in those moments that it felt like the city actually stopped. It was like the city was paused or went to sleep. It was just the two of you.

Two souls dancing.

Your tears run down your face, quietly, as you put the cake into the oven at last. You set the timer for thirty minutes.

His hand held yours, softly and gently. He placed your other hand on his shoulder before placing his free hand at your waist as you danced in the living room. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and inhaling his scent. His head rested on top of yours. He held you so close to him, his warmth seeping into your body. His scent surrounded you, embraced you, serenaded you.

You try to remember it now. Try to conjure his scent from thin air. It’s been so long now that his clothes, which are still in your closet safely put away, have lost his scent. You can no longer bring them out, and breathe in his scent for comfort. It’s gone. Like him. You always said he smelled like the woods after a thunderstorm. You didn’t know if that even made sense, but it did in your head. It was clean, warm, and elemental.

It brought you peace. Comfort. He loved it when you caressed his face and hair but all you needed from him was his scent. It was enough to calm you down. To remind you that you were just you at the end of the day. To remind you that the feeling of a home doesn’t only come from a physical roof and walls.

You found home in his scent. In him.

The two of you always knew that afterwards, you’d have leave to patrol the night. He’d have to begin getting ready for the next day of work as you suited up to protect the city. That moment in your small, cozy, and warm living room section of your humble apartment, however, was everything despite knowing it would come to an end eventually.

But at that moment, it was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered at that moment. The multiverse could have been collapsing and neither of you would have noticed as he twirled you slowly and romantically. He’d get even more into his feelings in those moments if that was even possible. He was never afraid of telling you he loved you. In fact, he said it often and it never ceased to make your heart flutter. He always found a way to make it feel like the first time he had said it. You’d blush and roll your eyes playfully, but he would take your hand and kiss the back of it. His eyes would meet yours, full of sincerity and love.

“You know I do, darling. Don’t forget it.”

Your fingers brush the back of your hand now, feeling the ghost of his lips on it as you stare out the window of your apartment, staring at the moon. The cake should be ready any minute now. You sigh deeply as one of his favorite songs by Billie Holiday comes on. The one he typically chose to ask you to dance to.

“I’ll Be Seeing You” is now playing in the background as you reminisce on the past. Peter would have been twenty-six today. You cannot help but wonder where he would be in life now. Where you would be in life. You wonder…

You feel certain that he would’ve already popped the question in these three years. You would’ve already been married. You would’ve possibly been a year or two into the marriage. Perhaps talk of children would have already emerged as Peter always wanted to be a father. You thought about it sometimes in the past but as you and Peter grew older, as you moved in together, you started thinking about it more. You couldn’t imagine yourself having children with anyone else. You saw children as a huge responsibility, but you knew Peter and trusted him, easing normal worries that emerge from the simple consideration of having children. Tears spill from your eyes as you imagine what he would have been as a father. You know it in your heart that he would have been an incredible father, no matter what. He would’ve spoiled the child or rather children, as he wished for more than one. He would have spoiled them. He would’ve made time for them. He would’ve tucked them into bed each night, kissing their foreheads before exiting the room. He would’ve probably told them stories about Spider-Woman and “how amazing she is!”

You imagine other mundane things as you knew him so well. Like how he cooked breakfast on the weekends, taking his time to spoil you. You are sure he would’ve spoiled the children, too, with elaborate breakfasts. You stifle a chuckle as you remember the time he tried to make pancakes in the shape of spiders but they turned out a little messy. They were still amazing though, and you cherished the effort and time he had spent on them. You can’t help but think that he would’ve tried again for the kids, trying to surprise them with a different shape each week.

You think about how he would have carried them to bed if they fell asleep on the couch, picking them up with a tenderness that would have pulled the strings of your heart. Or how he would have held them when they were still infants, close to his chest, embracing them in the warmth of his body to comfort them.

You quietly grieve a life that could have been. There might be a chance one day for you to find love again. To find a man that you can love and that can love you as deeply as Peter, but you know you will always grieve what you once had. And what you could have had.

The oven beeps, interrupting your thoughts and crying. You hurry to the oven, carefully taking out the cake. You set it on the counter before you stare at the photograph you brought earlier of Peter to the counter. He’s smiling at you.

You look away. That smile – the one that could undo everything wrong with your life at the sight of it. You turn back to the photograph.

“Peter…” you whisper, as you meet his eyes.

You spend a few minutes like that. Staring at his picture. Your eyes scanning his face, remembering how it once felt to hold, kiss, and caress it. If you were an artist, you would have been able to draw his face from memory. From the crinkles by his eyes when he smiled, to the light stubble that covered his lower face after a day or two from shaving to the mole on his left cheek near his lips. You could draw his lips. So soft. So perfect. You could capture the glint in his eyes that was always there when he looked at you.

You sigh and take the Bundt pan, ready to flip it. You get the tray ready and frosting before you flip it, successfully. The sweet scent fills your nostrils. You take the frosting and spread it delicately, taking your time.

No one else eats it. No one else sees it. No one even smells it.

Just you.

And you hope that Peter, from somewhere can, too.

Satisfied with the frosting, you take the candles and place them on the cake, gently.

A two and a six.

You don’t add anything else, as Peter wasn’t into all of that for himself. He always said he wanted to dig right into it without having to worry about taking off decorations. You always laughed, shaking your head at him in disbelief.

“You act like my baking is amazing,” you’d say.

“Darling, your baking is amazing. If I could get a slice as soon as it was out of the oven, I would.”

You retrieve the ice cream from the freezer. You light the candles. You quietly sing happy birthday to his photo, tears slowly running down your face. You blow out the candles. You wonder what his wish would have been. You had asked him on his last birthday, knowing he wouldn’t tell you, but you still asked regardless out of curiosity because of his behavior. He had stared at you, with that stupid smile that made you feel like a schoolgirl each time he smiled at you, before he blew the candles. He grinned afterwards, prompting you to ask.

“You know I can’t tell you, love. It won’t come true if I do – and I’m not taking any chances.”

You didn’t know what Peter wished for then or now, and you never will… but Peter had looked at you with his smile before blowing out the candles as he silently made, unknowingly, his last birthday wish.

“I wish to marry Y/N soon.”

You stare at his photo, a small but warm smile forming as you remember his last birthday. He hadn’t told you his wish and you respected it, though you wish you knew what it was. You silently hope that whatever it was, had come true.

“Happy Birthday, love,” you whisper. “I hope you are having a great one - wherever you are.”

You sigh deeply and smile, sadly. You grab a knife and two plates, ready to cut into the cake. Billie Holiday is still playing in the background. There is no other sound in your space. You can’t even hear traffic. You are about to slice into the cake when you feel something. You pause, looking up. Small objects in your apartment begin to rise into the air. You immediately recognize what’s happening.

A multidimensional portal opens in your living room section. You watch, confused before you see who steps out of it, the objects falling back into place.

“Miguel?” you say, with furrowed brows as you stare at his back.

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

So, I was hoping to have this up yesterday in honor of ATSV coming out in digital but I found myself still writing this morning (August 9, 2023) at 1am and then realized I was looking at a part three that was going to be over 10K words lol. So, I took the executive decision and split it where I thought it was best.

I will apologize in advance if you expected more Miguel in this but I wanted to explore the reader's life with Peter a little bit more and once I started writing about him I couldn't stop, hence why I was looking at a part three of 10K words. I hope you guys still enjoy this despite Miguel being a little MIA. He will show up again, I promise 💖

I'm so happy I can finally see this man in HD though! Now that I have this part out, I'm gonna take a little writing break for today and tomorrow and create edits of him on TikTok lol. This man has me on such a chokehold, he has me writing and making edits of him. Now I'm thinking about learning how to draw for him, too 💀 someone pls send help lol

Anyway, if it wasn't obvious already the song inspiration for this part was Billie Holiday's "I'll Be Seeing You". I hope you guys got a little teary eye like I did while writing this.

Also, I'm thinking of taking writing requests for shorter pieces about Miguel but idk if anyone would be interested. I would also like to say thank you to everyone who has supported this so far, whether it has been by liking, reblogging, or commenting, it means a lot :) I also loved the asks I received! I'm just glad to see that my love for this fictional man pays off in my writing lol. Thank you again!

I still love Miguel O'Hara. That's all.

Tag list: (For some reason it didn't tag some users in the last post, so please accept my apologies :( I can see that there are two users' that aren't underlined, if you know the reason, pls let me know so I can tag them. Thank you!)

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @mandodinstuff @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @muzansucker @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger

@angie2274 @vampi-amora

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