#i just hope i can also tell all this in the comic also!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clowningaroundmars · 6 months ago

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Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

>pt. 4 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

#spiderverse #clown horn #miles morales #hobie brown #<- well i mean not really but yall know what i mean #hope u guys enjoyed this lil installment! <3 #i tried to make the action as entertaining as possible but y'all must know.... that it really is my weak spot so if you guys read all that #and went 'huh'#well then.... Understandable Have A Nice Day!#but listen mj is more often than not a total bamf in the comics and so to make 1610's mj not nearly as cool #esp when this is HOBIE we're talkin abt here... that would be criminal. so i did what i had to do #and i'm trying to like uuhhhh not do an Exposition Dump on hobie jones' character all at once #just sorta drip feeding y'all his backstory before we Get Into It ya feel me #also @ everyone leaving nice comments so far. I LOV YOU :) <3 #thank u!#sorry abt the messy ass art on this chapter. i rushed it as i'm sure y'all can tell #they also dont match up 1:1 on the story bc i did the sketches initially before i wrote all this #just as concept art before sitting down to write so i meannnn! but! they came out p close to the finished product #so i was like 'ok close enough lets just ink it and be done'#hope yall still like them anyhow LOL oops #anyways..... i gotta quit my yappin'#see yall on the next one <3 #punkflower #← almost forgot to tag oof #mi writing

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saltynsassy31 · 10 hours ago

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*drags myself through the floor and slams this down*

I present to you

FULLMETAL BARTENDERS AVIAN AU (name pending)

(Rant as to why I chose the White-throated Needletail as Blurr's bird and some minor AU lore under the cut)

And that's not all! It comes with a FULL FLEDGED COMIC!!!!!

I spent a whole fucking week on this

I haven't done a comic in 4 years now, I can't believe this is my come-back XD. Though, on that note, know that I probably won't be pumping out any more comics - not any time soon, at least. But I do got more stuff planned for this au! If you ask about it, I'll 100% rant about it LOL

Tw// ⚠️mild gore in the 3rd panel⚠️

While exploring the woods with his team, Swerve had an unfortunate encounter with a crazed hunter. In an attempt to escape, he got injured, but it seems he wasn't the only one caught in the crossfire...

Okay

So when you look up what the fastest bird in the world is, Google with show the Peregrin Falcom

But there's a catch

The Peregrine is only fast when diving

When it dives to catch its prey, it can go up to 389km/h

Which yeah, pretty fast

But when casually flying, it only goes up to 120 iirc

The Needle Tail?

It can go up to 170km/h

Some have even recorded going over 300! (Close to the Falcon's dive, I believe)

Additionally, these birds only fly. Their habitat is literally listed as "the air," and some even believe they sleep while flying! They only ever land to brood and mate, and then they're off again. Their legs are so short that, if they ground, they can't fly again because it doesn't give enough room to flap their wings.

It fits Blurr perfectly!

It also has a blue-ish colour pattern I can work with lol (it's green, but it looks blue, lol)

Though, also, he isn't 100% like the Needle Tail, just based off of it. I still want avians to be sorta their own species and doesn't have to be exactly like their bird counterparts cuz they aren't them, they're their own thing.

That said, Blurr is one of the shortest from Avians population, still.

They're pretty big.

Another trivial detail of the design!

I was stuck between having his arms be his wings or have them be separate

Until I saw a drawing where they had both, and I realised, "Wait, why isn't that done more often! That's so cool!"

So that's sorta what I did

It's mainly to catch small prey when grounded and to stay better perched up on trees since they're much bigger and having extra fingers helps a lot. Or when they're climbing against a tree to pick up fruits, it gives them an extra boost and can better hang from it

But they're pretty much useless besides that lol

Just neat lil design choice

Other lore stuff. The time in which the au takes place is vaguely modern? But with fantasy aspects? I still haven't decided lol

Technology exists, but not in the way we have it sort of deal, idk, this au is pretty bare bones right now, so go wild with it XD I don't mind it, I love brainstorming it with people. I know this au isn't as big or complex as some others out there, but it's fun, and I hope yall like it too fjsjajaj

#my art #comic #swerve x blurr #ref sheet #transformers au #fullmetal bartenders #blurve #swerve #blurr #maccadam #tf blurr #tf swerve #avian au #idk i wanna give it a different name but im coming up blank so if anyone got a better name feel free to suggest it XD #im kinda nervous to post this fjsjakakkf #i want people to have fun with this like they do with kef's aus but i know im not thst big LOL #i do have two characters i plan to do next #as a reward to those who read the tags (i see you 👁👁) I'll tell ya and say one of them is ratchet #also as another little tag bonus #feel free to send me an ask asking what bird your favorite transformers would be #yall may not know this about me but im crazy about birds and ive done so many avian aus in every fandom im in #i just never posted any until now XD #so I'll gladly rant about them #just uh...be aware i dont know all that much bout the idws yet and ive lost my access to half of it right now #ill try to research the characters best i can but if i dont know them well i might not be accurate in my interpretation fkdkskska #but anyway #here's this silly little au #to the 5 people who see this post i hope yall enjoy it and have as much fun as i did making this :3 #and expect more cuz this was so fun to do LOL #juzt not any time soon cuz my health is SHIT and i also dont draw at lightning speed like some people here XD ill probably stick to writing

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maryymaruu · 13 days ago

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I promise I will officially introduce my ocs soon, I'm almost done with their designs---- ( ´ ▿ ` );

#I'm just very indecisive #I'm almost done though #I can already tell you that Three Signals' design is going to stay the way it is now for sure #there's like two more iterators i want to design #the rest will be probably just names if mentioned at all #designing is hard actually I have no clue what Im doing #but im having fun! ^^)#no promises but I hope to make little comics happen with these guys #I'm also open to let my ocs interact with other people's ocs!#rain world oc #rw iterator oc

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xxplastic-cubexx · 1 month ago

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gonna read all of House of M this weekend i think

#snap chats #making this post so i actually be pressured to do it jvlakJJK #or at least most of it this shit so much longer than i thought no wonder they have a textbook of it HELP #textbook ver dont even include Son of M or the 2015 ver... bruh i got so many tabs open now..#i must remind myself i can read comics whenever i want and i don't HAVE to buy them to read them.. easy to do for the 60's comics #idk why im so against doing that for anything past the 80's but anyways vjAELKJAK #for like months ive been telling myself to read it but ive also been telling myself i want the physical of it first #but Big Dog im not buying that textbook version for a while and i want to read ALL of it so. eJLKJAKL #ill read that big fuck off omnibus this weekend online just to see what all this is then ..... i always see mixed reviews on the saga..#i mean i ordered the rest of Excalibur and THAT. apparently leads into house of m so. makes sense no...#i don't think my excalibur comics will get to my house before /i/ get to my house today so i'll have to read backwards but gjAELKJKL #anyway. will i live blog about it. idk maybe if something funny happens #hope everyone joins me on this journey of actually reading the things i say im going to read it'll be fun #my To Read list is disgusting and ive made it my duty to start making good progress on it this year

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space-specs · 2 years ago

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Dick Grayson 🤝 Roy Harper

Sidekicks successfully able to move beyond their mentor and more well-known for their own individual vigilante identity now.

Stephanie Brown 🤝 Bart Allen

Original heroes that carried a couple legacy names before going back to their own unique hero names.

Tim Drake 🤝 Conner Kent

Stuck in the same name retelling the same stories and unable to fully grow as a character because DC can't seem to give them their own unique identities that would allow them to move on past this narrow idea of their characters.

#anyway yeah....just having some musings....they don't make 'em like they used to /hj #if they would stop roping Tim back into Robin that would be great actually #similarly i think Kon is being held back by still being Superboy #not to the same extent that Tim is but definitely keeps looping the 'i'm not like other Supers :(' narrative #(looking at you Superboy: The Man of Tomorrow preview)#i am holding out hope for the new SB series but also i am so fucking nervous. don't fuck this up for us dc #and i think he should get to be like 'i'm not like other Supers :D' and then build a new identity in the reconciliation of self #does that make sense?#like....i don't mind him staying SB except that it does grate on me a little that jon is allowed to grow up and become Superman #while kon is left behind and kinda neglected in superfam content and not allowed to Grow™#and growth doesn't have to involve a change in hero name but i feel like tim and kon's names are so tied to their teen years #and them still having the same names is also seems to be why they aren't allowed to literally grow and be aged up at all #which limits the kinds of stories they get to have and can be used to tell #the immortal comic medium vs. the realism of believably semi-mortal characters ig #rambling in tags #spec-text-ular #dc #dick grayson #roy harper #stephanie brown #bart allen #tim drake #kon-el #conner kent #nightwing #arsenal #spoiler #batgirl #robin iv #impulse

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the-acid-pear · 9 months ago

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Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.

#luly talks #my dreams #I'll peace like i can recollect it was weird #bc it literally was ME BUYING GROCERIES W MY DAD but then the line between when we ended and Michael and William started blurred #i remember the grocery store very well also bc it was very similar to the one i go always to but smaller and more sepia #it was dark for a grocery store like it was just letting sunlight in #pears were half off like some black friday offer so all the products were suuuper cheap #i saw one bottle of milky pear juice for like 1k. and the same w these 4 stacks of frozen waffles who were like 1070.#or this bottle of pear pancake mixture that had 2 or 4 lts #it was kind of when i went away that thr lines started blurring so let me tell you what i remember about this Afton:#he didnt seem. murderous. he was grocery shopping w his kid for fuck's sake 😭 i think he was even sitting somewhere while i ran back and #forth taken aback by these offers? like kinda dismissive at best #uh. Henry was brought up believe it or not. it was like... they broke up or something? like he was kinda upset about the mention but like #in a i dont want to explain why im not with him rn sort of way #very insecure he seemed. like he run into this woman who might've been someone but idk who was whom asked sbout henry and bro was SWEATING #you'd say dream william was a fucking loser he just got locked in thinking like what do i say and HOW do i say it #to make it sound casual but also not weird.#bc on top of all he also seemed to have some weird gender things going on bc he first instinct when trying to explain himself to the woman #(who i cannot stress enough was super friendly like a fucking neighbor or something just going hey hi! hows da family? ^_^)#was to refer to them both as girls as this jokey comradery Let's Ignore The Topic thing before going No That's Bad I Can't Say That #this whole internal monologue in my dream happened in a sort of comic panel thing btw where shit went from these warm browns and greens and #shit from the grocery store to jarring black and whites and reds as William tried to have a straight thought #looks wise unfortunately not a lot going on.though considering this was literally my dream getting turned over can we say my Afton is argie #something something my turn stealing from them etc etc or whatever #uh. brown hair. but not too dark. it was greying and that was making it lighter. also very angular face as you'd expect #high cheekbones pretty eyebrows no facial hair. hair was a bit longuish tho? like a messy ear length maybe?#he had a button up w buttons lose bc it's so hot and humid rn also sunglasses which i know 100% was influenced bc the last design i rbed #a little.before napping #also he had age makes too though his age was most visible in his scrawny long exposed neck #me/mike change was minimal bc we're both pale and brunette hit tag limit so hope y'all like my brain's oc i guess 😭

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tender-rosiey · 5 months ago

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yoo rose I started following you a little while ago and I really liked you. I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for a scenario where Nanami arrives drunk and his wife takes care of him while he talks about how he loves her I liked all your stories with my businessman <3

unsteady love — nanami kento x f!reader

a/n: so glad that you do, love! <33 hope you like this one too 🫶🫶

kento stumbles slightly into your house, catching himself against the wall before you steady him, “kento… you’re drunk.”

he blinks down at you, the usually serious expression on his face replaced by something softer, more relaxed. there’s a faint flush coloring his cheeks, and he lets out a low, rumbling chuckle.

“I am not drunk,” he declares, his voice slurred just enough to betray him. “I’m... just—” he waves his hand vaguely in the air, searching for the right word. “...enlightened.”

you suppress a smile and guide him to the couch, sitting him down gently. “sure, ‘enlightened.’” you shake your head, amused. “stay put, I’ll get you some water.”

as you move to the kitchen, you hear him muttering to himself. “can’t believe I’m drunk,” he grumbles, almost like he’s scolding himself, “what kind of a husband does that?”

when you return, cup in hand, he’s sitting with his head leaned back against the couch, his eyes half-closed. but when you approach, he perks up immediately, watching you with a soft, slightly dazed look.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says. his voice is quieter, more sincere, and it catches you off guard for a second. nanami isn’t exactly shy about how he feels, but this is a side of him you don’t see often.

“drink,” you instruct, handing him the water to avoid the sudden rush of emotions his words bring. he takes the glass without complaint, but even as he drinks, his eyes never leave you.

after a few sips, he sets the glass down on the table and leans back again, sighing contentedly. “you take such good care of me,” he says softly, almost to himself, “I don’t deserve you.”

you chuckle at the sudden sentimental turn. “kento, you’re acting like I’ve just saved your life. you had a few drinks. you will be okay.”

he shakes his head, looking at you with those hazy, half-lidded eyes. “it is serious. you’re always here for me. always... my constant. my…” he trails off, struggling for the right words in his drunken haze, “you make everything better. I love you.”

his words are raw, unfiltered by the usual restraint he keeps on his emotions. there’s a vulnerability in the way he says it that makes your heart tighten.

“I love you too,” you reply, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

but before you can pull away, he grabs your wrist gently, pulling you closer. “no, you don’t get it.” he’s more insistent now, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that’s surprising given his state. “I really love you. I think about it all the time, all—the time.”

you laugh softly, though his words tug at something deep inside you. “you can tell me all about it when you’re sober.”

he doesn’t let go, though, his grip still gentle but firm. “I mean it. you make the worst days worth it. you... you’re everything.”

a soft laugh escapes you, touched by his sincerity but also aware of how much the alcohol is loosening his tongue. “I know, kento. you’ve told me before.”

nanami pouts—a rare expression that looks so out of place on his usually stoic face. “but I don’t say it enough. you deserve to hear it.”

he blinks sloppily as he stares at you before murmuring, "I need to marry you."

you let out a soft laugh and kiss his cheek, "we are married, you silly man."

in a once in a lifetime incident, your husband stares at you, eyes wide, face reddening by the second. he looks down at his feet for a few moments, then you see him hum, "that's nice."

his seriousness is almost comical given the state he’s in, and you can’t help but tease him a little. “y'know, you’re awfully chatty for someone who insisted they weren’t drunk.”

he lets out a sigh, leaning his head back again and releasing your wrist, “fine, fine. maybe I’m a little drunk. but it doesn’t change the fact that I—”

before he can finish, he shifts too quickly and almost topples off the couch. you rush to catch him, but you fall with him, and he blinks, disoriented, before breaking into a lopsided smile. “maybe a lot drunk.”

“yeah, maybe,” you say with a laugh, helping him sit back up. “come on, let’s get you to bed.”

as you help him to his feet, he leans heavily against you, his arm draped over your shoulder. you guide him down the hallway, his weight familiar but the situation still amusingly foreign.

normally, he’s the one doing the taking care of—you can’t help but relish this rare moment where the roles are reversed.

once you’ve managed to get him into bed, he pulls you down next to him, refusing to let go of your hand. his eyes, though heavy with sleep, remain fixed on you with that same soft, adoring look.

“you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbles, his voice thick with exhaustion and sincerity, “we have to go to malaysia together.”

“sure,” you smile, brushing your fingers through his hair as his eyes finally flutter shut. “goodnight, kento.”

just as you’re about to pull away, his hand tightens around yours once more, and he whispers, half-asleep, “I love you.”

his words are softer now, less dramatic than before but still brimming with emotion.

you watch him for a moment, his features relaxed in the dim light, and feel a warmth spread through your chest. this side of him—unguarded, affectionate, and a little silly—is one you cherish just as much as his usual seriousness.

as he drifts off, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting his words linger in the air, “I love you too.”

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#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento x y/n #kento x reader #kento x you

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thewidowsledger · 13 days ago

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Closer

Pairings: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x SHIELD Detective!Female Reader

Word count: 8k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, angst, top!Wanda, bottom!reader, Wanda being a perv criminal, fingering (r), enchanted strap (r), dubcon, breeding kink, pregnancy, comic/tarot reading inaccuracies (I did try my best searching about them), jealousy if you squint, friendzoned!Nat

Author's note: This is set after the MoM, Wanda being stuck on Earth-818, where she is a multiversal criminal after killing the Illuminati—the planet's mightiest heroes. Title inspired from the song Closer by NIN. I have another a/n at the end of the fic.

Navigation | Masterlist

ᱬ

"Do you know this girl?"

Wanda lets out a small huff, then leans on the table, her sore cuffed hands resting on the cold surface.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what color those pretty little panties of yours are."

ᱬ

She had killed the Illuminati, the very protectors of your universe. You couldn't understand why she would go after them, they were the ones who were keeping your universe safe and sound. It seemed that the only reason she had for doing this was to gain more power somehow and that's the only thing you got as of now.

But you couldn't help but wonder if she's up to something…more or personal? If she isn't after more power, then what is she up to? She could be plotting something far more sinister than anyone could imagine.

Or something she just lost.

As you stand in front of the interrogation room door, your heart is pounding fast, your hands are cold and your breathing hitched.

"I'll get you to talk." You murmured to yourself.

You then took a deep breath before signaling the agents that you are ready, then you watched as the door slowly opened before you. Sitting behind a desk facing you was the most wanted criminal on your planet.

As you stepped inside you examined her, you noticed that her body was covered in a number of devices which were meant to restrain her from using her magical powers. There's something on her temple, something that looked like an electric device. She also had the same thing collared around her neck and in her cuffed hands, you also took note of her blackened fingers. But both her feet seem to be free and in full display. She seemed to be unfazed by all the devices though, despite the fact she looks restrained in almost all parts of her body.

You were one of the top detectives in your field, but you had never seen any of this stuff, let alone be in a high security room with the most wanted criminal in your universe.

"Worried about me? Detective?" She asked as if she could read your mind.

"Comfortable with those on your body?" You huffed lightly, you hoped that you were able to keep a straight face while asking that question. You were doing your best to keep your cool, but it wasn't easy with her looking at you like that. "Sadly, you can only have those removed if you cooperate with me."

Wanda's face started to form a smirk before letting out a small chuckle as if to torment you even more. It was as if she knew exactly what kind of effect she was having on you.

"What about you? I don't think those clothes are comfortable on you…" she spoke with a wolfish grin, "want me to remove them?"

You force yourself to look away from Wanda, your heart rate slightly elevated. You take a deep, subtle breath, trying to compose yourself completely, focusing instead on your mission. There is no room for any distractions right now.

But God, this woman is a breathing distraction.

"Wanda Maximoff, is that your name?" you started, putting down the files you were pretending to fix a while back.

"Yes."

"Where are you from, Wanda?"

Silence.

You pressed on with the same question rephased, "Could you tell me where exactly you came from?"

She still didn't respond. Her eyes were like ice, cold and emotionless. You sighed disappointingly that now made the woman curve her lips upward.

Now, you began to lay out the facts, "You're not from here," you stated. "We've figured that one out. You're not from our universe and you killed our heroes." You slid a photo in front of her, the sound of the paper touching the cold metal table. "Do you know who that is?" It was a cropped photo of her. She was wearing a sweater and wide pants. She had a soft and gentle expression on her face, unlike the cold and emotionless looks she had been giving you so far. You observed how she looked at the photo and there is something you can't put a finger on her expression as she stared at it—jealousy?

"That's me."

"Wrong," you said firmly. You saw her eyes shot through you faster than the lightning. You were pleased that you were finally getting some sort of reaction from her. You could tell that you had caught her off guard. It seems like she wasn't used to being contradicted like this, you'll take note of that.

As a detective, if you cannot get an answer from your culprit you will get a reaction out of them. It was a fun game for you.

You held up another photo, before sliding it down on the table. This one is a closeup shot of her looking eye to eye at one of the monitors of Illuminati headquarters that was recovered. She was covered in blood and her eyes were glowing red.

The photo that has been haunting you since this case was given to you.

She just stared at it like a mirror. Then slowly, she began to tilt her head to the side, imitating the pose in the photo—taunting you. You could feel her eyes piercing into your soul.

Before you could lose yourself at her stare, you slammed your fingers down the photos. "This is not you, this is the Wanda Maximoff of this universe." You pointed at the photo of her variant with the soft and gentle expression on her face. You slid it towards you before grabbing the photo that is left, which was a photo of her showering in blood, "This…this is you."

Silence.

"Happy," you flick the photo of the happy Wanda. "And miserable." You pout, putting down the bloody Wanda in front of her.

Well, your tactics seemed to be not working. Because silence is all you got.

You took a deep breath and spoke again, trying to keep your frustration in check. "I'm going to ask you again, why are you here in my universe?" You stared at her expectantly, hoping for some kind of response this time. But Wanda remained silent, her face impassive as she stared back at you.

You were just starting, you just got here for like twenty minutes. Usually, during this part of interrogation you aren't frustrated yet unless you didn't have your pack of gummies before you started. You still should be cool and calm, but right now? You don't think you are at all.

She seemed to relish in your frustration. Taking pleasure in watching you struggle to get a straight answer out of her. This only added to your growing annoyance, making you wonder how long you could keep up this interrogation without losing your temper completely.

"Don't breathe too hard, detka."

You swear to your dead grandparents, you are going to lose it.

Your face flushed red like a fool, stomach was in knots as you tried to ignore the growing feeling of something you will slap yourself about.

Now, you managed to compose yourself back again, it's your turn to be silent. Fun games for you to play—the silent game where you'll sit on your chair while the culprit moves themselves in every way they could think of, walk, sit on the floor until their ass gets sore while you sit comfortably on your chair and this will go on for long painful hours. You've got to have years of training before you can master it.

So you sat comfortably, not saying anything. You waited to see what she would say or do next. But it seems like she was playing a waiting game as well, trying to see who would break first.

The two of you only sat in silence but the tension was too obvious in the small suffocating metal room.

You looked up from your file folder over and over again, taking notes of everything you got so far and that is the unknown name she had given you—detka. Now, you blinked as you realized how much time had passed. Your eyes shifted to Wanda and you noticed that she was tapping her blackened fingers impatiently on the table. It was clear that she was growing restless.

Good, you told yourself before getting back to your papers. One thing you're sure about is you have been here over and over, you had sat in a small cramped room for ten to twenty four hours half of your life. You're used to it. You do it for a living.

You'll last longer than she will.

"Detective Y/L/N, we got something for you." You heard through the comms of the suffocating room.

You got up and went to the door, waiting as a folder was delivered through a small opening of the door. As you walked back to the table, you couldn't shake off the feeling that Wanda was watching you intently. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the folder in front of you. But the weight of her gaze made the hairs on your neck rise. You glanced up at her, and sure enough, she was staring at you, a smirk written all over her face.

"It's quite disappointing I am not unwrapping something," she commented suggestively as she watched you unwrap the manila envelope on your hands. Then, her gaze drifted up to your lips and to your chest, your cleavage showing slightly on your low cut blouse that seemed to be taunting her from the moment you had stepped into the room.

Your jaw tensed as you tried to ignore the effect her nonsense comments were having on you, you tried to remain focused and professional, but you couldn't deny the heat building between your thighs.

You shame yourself.

You crossed your legs awkwardly, trying to conceal your discomfort. Wanda's smirk only grew wider when she noticed your movement. You could feel her eyes on you, and you wondered if she could tell how this back-and-forth was affecting you. Your mind raced, trying to come up with a way to regain control of the situation without giving her any more satisfaction. So you just decided to shift the focus of the conversation back to the interrogation. You examined a photo of a young girl wearing a denim jacket, taking note of a slight glow on her knuckles before showing it to Wanda.

"Do you know this girl?"

Wanda lets out a small huff, then leans on the table, her sore cuffed hands resting on the cold surface.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what color those pretty little panties of yours are."

"Who is this man?" you pushed another photo towards her that you weren't even able to see first just so you could dismiss her painful teasing, hoping to shift the conversation back to your hands because clearly, it's in hers.

"You want answers? Come on, detective, it's a simple question. Red? Black? Maybe something a little more innocent, like pin—"

"If stupidity is the only thing that will come out of your dirty mouth, then don't talk to me or don't speak, at all." You finally snapped, "I had asked you simple questions as well but I think you're too dumb to answer them since you're all silent." You knew that this was a low blow, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratification as you threw her own words back at her.

But still, you didn't last long.

You gathered the papers, folders, and envelopes in front of you, you couldn't help but feel Wanda's venomous glare burning into you. When you glanced up at her, you gulped by the sight of her face. Her expression was a picture of barely contained fury, suddenly feeling like prey being stalked by a predator—like the photo of her showering in blood. You immediately avoided her fiery gaze, you swore you saw it flicker red. You shake your head and take a hold of your documents.

You couldn't believe she had gotten the best of you in this interrogation and you only got defeated and frustrated. All you can do is huff, straightening your collar and smoothing your hair as you try to regain a sense of composure and the little shame that this investigation left you. You glanced towards the two-way mirror, knowing that the other agents and your colleagues were watching this whole ordeal unfold. They watched as you got humiliated by this multiversal criminal.

Taking a deep breath, you spoke up, your voice firm and decisive. "I think I am done here," you said, signaling them to open the door for you. But before you could even step outside, Wanda suddenly spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension in the room like a knife.

"It's not stupidity if it's all true," her words dripping with a cold and thick accent you are not familiar with that sent shivers down your spine.

You knit your brows together but you didn't turn around because you knew you would only see the annoying smirk plastered on her face.

"Victoria's secret, it's lacy and has a floral pattern, scarlet. And it's wet."

You clenched your jaw tightly, your nostrils flaring in anger. Now, you felt violated and humiliated, she had really gotten under your skin in a way that no one else had ever managed before.

As the door shut behind you, you felt a sense of relief at finally getting some distance from her, and you took a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down—a routine you usually do.

"You okay?" Natasha immediately asked, removing her leather jacket and placing it on your shoulders, "I swear, allow me to do this."

Wanda rose from her chair and tried her best to stretch, trying to pop and shift some bones in her restrained neck and her back. Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if she was savoring the moment. Then, she walked towards the one-way glass mirror.

"No, Nat. If I allow that to happen one of you will come out in that room in a body bag." You walked to put your files down briefly staring at Wanda who was now hovering closely to the mirror.

Natasha then grabbed you by your right arm, her face dangerously close on yours. She clearly didn't like how this multiversal criminal talked to you. "And who do you think that will be?" Natasha asked intimidatingly.

You just huffed playfully, rolling your eyes on her making Natasha let out a few laugh.

"Are you sure those devices are really working on her?"

"Well, we don't know where she's from or what entity she really is. So we don't really know what else she can do," Natasha said and you already know that fact. "As of now it is the highest and most secure restraining device that they have. At least that's what they told me. Why?"

Well, you don't think it is working or restraining her powers at all.

Natasha didn't speak as if she already knew what's going on in your mind. "So it's true?"

"What is?" You asked as you crouched down to your bag, stuffing all the heavy documents you had dragged to and fro wherever you go.

"What she said."

"Natasha, she said nothing but taunt and—"

"Eye fuck you, yes."

Humiliate, humiliate is what you were going to say.

"The last thing she said, was it true?"

Natasha's question hung in the air, you found yourself frozen in place, your mind racing to come up with an appropriate response. You then slowly turned around and your eyes first landed on Wanda. You still have no idea if she can hear or see everything despite her being locked inside, but you can see her staring right at you as if she can see you through the one-way mirror. Now, you are both staring at each other even with the glass standing against the two of you.

Guess there is only one way to find out.

"Why don't you drop by later and find out, agent?"

You stepped back, almost like a flinch as you watched Wanda hit the mirror with her cuffed hands, her jaw shaking and her eyes flickering with a terrifying red glow, as if the rage within her had taken on a life of its own.

Now that you know how much effect you have on her, and how you figured out how she plays—you will play her game with your own hands.

Play the game or the game plays you.

ᱬ

Your fingers flew over the keyboard of your laptop as you delved into the files that had been recovered from the headquarters of the Illuminati. The video footage was particularly compelling, showing Wanda's abilities at their most devastating. You watched in horror as she unleashed a barrage of powerful magic, tearing through the ranks of the Illuminati with ease.

Black Bolt was killed having his mouth covered.

Captain Carter was cut in half with her shield.

Reed Richard was grated to death.

Photon was blasted with her own powers and was crushed by a statue.

And Professor X's neck was snapped by Wanda after what you think was a telepathic duel.

"Why did you do all this, Wanda Maximoff?" You whispered to yourself.

You knew that what had happened there was unprecedented and that the implications were far-reaching. Another set of evidence was given to you stating where this multiversal criminal was, Earth-616—from a different reality. With the Illuminati gone, multiversal travel was impossible, and the potential for catastrophic consequences seemed to loom around every turn with her being in your reality.

You watched another video footage of a young girl who was clearly in the throes of something far beyond her control. The way she was running and in a second she was being consumed by a star-figured portal she made herself, as if her own power was turning on her, devouring her from within.

A theory now begins to take shape in your mind. You theorized that perhaps Wanda was here in your universe because of the young girl. But again, it would always fall back onto why Wanda killed your world's mightiest heroes.

"Think, Y/N. C'mon."

As a seasoned detective, you couldn't help but consider all angles and possibilities. Then, another theory popped, what if Wanda used the girl to get to your universe? But the question that nagged at you this time was why she would do such a thing. What was her motive? Was she trying to escape from her own universe or did she have some greater purpose in mind? The uncertainty of it all made your mind tangle, as you desperately tried to piece together the puzzle that was Wanda Maximoff of Earth-616.

"What do you want?" You whispered, your gaze was locked repeating the footage of Wanda going on to Illuminati one by one.

ᱬ

"Thank you for meeting me."

Wanda nodded in acknowledgement, as she locked the door of the cafe behind you. You carefully watched her actions and movements as you followed her. And as a detective yourself it was your nature to observe and it was clear that she was a bit nervous, a far cry from the confident and aggressive that is her variant.

She led you to a small table for two, as you two finally settled in, you spoke.

"So, uhm. I'm detective Y/N and I think you kno—"

"I-I know who you are, I know what happened," Wanda interjected, cutting you off mid-sentence. Her tone was sharp and clipped, as if she had already anticipated your attempt to broach the topic of the devastating events that had transpired within the week. "You don't need to repeat it all over again," she said with finality.

It was all over the news for days now, hell it would be for the next few years. The death of the World's mightiest heroes and footage of the one who killed them, which was her—not technically her but her variant from another universe.

"I have received threats and so are my children. I had to close my shop since then," your gaze darted around the surroundings. Before you got in, you'd seen the words "murderer, witch, killer, anti-hero," painted on the shop's windows in bold, aggressive strokes.

"But…I have nothing to do with it," Wanda's voice trembled with emotion, you could hear the undeniable anguish in her words. "There would be times that I can't control my powers and it frightens me. My body was present but my mind was something else...someone else," she continued, her voice growing fainter, almost like a distant echo. "I had glimpses of a star…more like a portal, a shattered mirror and a book. But it's…I swear, it's not me I have nothing to do with it."

"Hey, it's—" you carefully edge in. But she quickly stopped you.

"No, I want to get this over with. I just want my children to be safe." She looked at you with glossy eyes. She looks so tired and defeated. "I used to dream every night," she continued, her words tumbling out rapidly, "I was…I was happy, I was with my children, I was in control of everything. But then it's gone. I put my kids to sleep then everything slowly started to disappear, I watched it. I watched everything I created, everything I loved disappear right in front of me."

"You lost your children…" you whispered unintentionally.

"Not me, I'm with my children," Wanda shook her head lightly before looking at you.

"It's not you who lost them…"

It struck you deeply, and suddenly, the pieces started to fall into place.

"What we see in our dreams are what is happening on our alternative selves. They may not be our exact selves, but they're our counterparts from different universes, and when we sleep, we inadvertently tap into their experiences."

"H-how sure are you about that?"

"I came to my old mentor, I told her everything about it. She might give you better answers than I do, I stopped learning more about my powers since I retired," She paused briefly, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Besides, I…I'm just a sitting duck variant here."

"Hey—" you blinked when she handed you a piece of paper. Stopping your attempt to comfort once again.

"I don't need it. Here is the address if you still need answers. That's all I can give you."

She stood and you panicked, you hurried after her. As she reached the door, she turned to face you for a brief moment, her expression unreadable. Before you could utter a polite goodbye, she had already shut the door behind you, leaving you standing in the cold street.

You took an exasperated sigh, then, you quickly pulled out your phone and dialed Natasha's number, asking her to send some SHIELD agents to keep an eye on Wanda and her kids for protection. After the call, you felt lost, it's like you're close to hitting a brick wall, but then you remembered the paper Wanda gave you.

"This sounds like a sham."

ᱬ

"What are you doing here in our universe?" Natasha asked for God knows how many times now. But Wanda remained silent.

She unbuttons her suit jacket, revealing her holstered gun. She watches Wanda's silent form, she is unfazed—unthreatened. She wishes you were here, with how easily you extracted information just using your eyes and laughter. How your disarming smiles could crack even the hardest facades, including hers.

"Was I right?" Natasha freezes, surprised by Wanda's sudden voice.

"What?" Natasha responds sharply, trying to hide her shock. "What did you say?" She watches Wanda closely. Her eyes are no longer empty. They're stormy and intense. "Right about what?"

"C'mon you know what I am talking about." Wanda's eyes crinkled to the side. And Natasha's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the smirk. Remembering the last thing this criminal had said about you before you got out of the first interrogation, Natasha catches herself slowly smirking as well before she can stop it, leaning back confidently in her chair. She hoped this play of hers would look natural.

"Not going to lie, it was impressive 'cause you were right about it. Saw it upclose, it was black, lacy Victoria's Secret, and it's wet—for me."

"It's red." Wanda immediately corrected, the colors of Natasha's face started to drain in embarrassment. "Dark red," She emphasizes, "Almost burgundy, like wine...or blood." She grins mischievously, enjoying how the agent in front of her clenched her jaw.

Natasha intended for it to look like she indeed saw what you were wearing that day. You even told her to come to your place and find out even though she knew it was just a play to get something out of this criminal, only for the two of you to do nothing but investigate and investigate. She even bought wine! But since then you had made it clear to her, that you two cannot be a thing—that she's just a friend.

"Listen here, you twisted criminal," Natasha strided and grabbed Wanda by the collar of her prison suit, pulling her closer. "Try to disrespect her like that once again, you will never be back in your universe again."

Wanda laughed despite Natasha's threat. "In just one snap I can go through your mind and see the very not-so-respectful things your twisted brain has thought of doing to your boss," she spoke calmly, unfazed by Natasha's grip on her collar and how close their faces were to each other.

"Give me your boss or you'll get nothing from me."

ᱬ

You find yourself standing in front of a quaint, old-fashioned shop, nestled between two larger buildings. The sign above the door reads "Madam Calderu's Psychic Readings" in a flowery, Victorian script. As you push open the heavy wooden door, a bell chimes merrily, announcing your arrival. The shop is dimly lit, filled with an eclectic mix of incense burners, crystal balls on a small, round table.

Before you can take in your surroundings properly, you hear a sudden scream.

Your hand goes for your holster, gun drawn instinctively. The woman freezes, seeing the gun pointed at her. "Wait!" She throws up her hands, the shawl falling back to reveal a middle-aged woman with sharp features and piercing dark eyes. The woman's gaze locks onto yours, and for a moment, it's as if she's peering right through you, seeing something that only she can comprehend. Her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a step closer, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

"You…"

Taking a deep breath, she forces a calming smile. "I apologize, dear. You just gave me quite the surprise. Please, have a seat. I am Madam Calderu."

Even though something about this feels off—hell, everything about this feels off, you holster your gun and take a seat at the nearest table. The smooth wood is cool to the touch, just like her hands when she places them palm-up on the table.

"What's your name, dear?"

Her eyes seem to pierce through you as she awaits your response. There's a strange intensity to her gaze, like she's trying to unravel the very fabric of your existence.

"Y/N…" you were about to get your badge to show her that you are a detective but she gently stopped you.

"Y/N, no need for that," She repeats softly as if she already knows what you really are.

The goosebumps you're feeling made you want to finish whatever this is. "I am here about Wanda Maximoff."

"Which one?" She asks, laying out a spread of cards you thought are tarot cards across the table.

"What? Wh-what do you mean which one? Hey I-I am not here for that." You rushed out, but she already flipped a card.

"The Fool. Bare…untouched, pure." You cringe slightly, what a nice way to say you are a virgin…which you truly are. "You are going to bring a new life."

"W-what?"

She turned to another card that was placed vertically. "The Hermit. You're in deep search for something. The Devil, upright. You are bound...constrained by circumstances beyond your control." Another card was flipped. "The Empress Meaning, upright. You are a vessel…meant to contain something immense, powerful. But you're unprepared. A fragile container for a force that could shatter you at any moment."

The last card made her eyes widened as she saw the image—a hanged man suspended upside down from a tree, with his right foot bound and his left foot free. "Someone is after you…" She mutters under her breath, then she looks at you who was in a deep frown, images of something red…a crown, something powerful flashed her mind that made her scream. You immediately took a hold of her hands with yours, as if you pulled her out of her nightmare, she stopped screaming but she was breathing hard.

"You wait here, young lady." She stood, shaking as she rushed from her seat disappearing through the string curtains.

The room grows silent again as you wait for Madame Calderu to return. Your phone suddenly rings, making you jump slightly. You pull it out, seeing Natasha's number.

"Romanoff."

"She wants you."

Realizing what she meant, you shifted on your seat in frustration. "Romanoff, I told you not to…" you didn't finish, sighing defeatedly knowing that scolding Natasha would get you nowhere. She had always been like this, stubborn and would sometimes go against you and your higher ups. "I'll be there." You say, ending the call and tucking the phone back into your pocket.

Madam Calderu came rushing back with a wooden rectangular sigil in her hand only to see a 20 dollar bill on top of the table.

You were gone.

ᱬ

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Natasha followed you behind as you strided toward the interrogation room. You have not been giving her any words or any blink of an eye as you arrived. And she has been apologizing, following you around like a lost puppy.

"I want you out of this case, Romanoff. This is not the only time you went against my orders." You say with finality before disappearing behind the door of the interrogation room, not wanting to hear any of her reactions.

You took deep breaths before you turned around and saw how the criminal had been staring at you. She was wearing a wolfish grin, elbows on top of the table while her cuffed hands together were in the air.

"How are you holding up?" You asked, much calmer like you were the first time.

"I'm good, detective." She said, simply. "I'm good now that you're here."

"I could say that." You quipped, making her let out a few chuckles that made your stomach flutter.

"I didn't like the attitude you have the last time we saw each other."

"Well, I didn't like how you didn't cooperate with me."

Wanda smirks teasingly, her black fingernails tapping against the metal table. "I missed you, detective," she purrs softly, her voice dropping an octave. She manspread her legs slightly under the table, unnoticed by you.

You respond in a neutral tone, your expression giving nothing away. "I could say that," you repeated, never breaking eye contact with the criminal.

She chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She leans forward slightly, the movement subtle yet intentional. "Didn't you miss me too?" She just threw you a bone, looking for a reaction—any reaction. She watches your face carefully, eyes picking up every tiny muscle twitch. She sees your jaw tighten slightly, your shoulders stiffen. She notes how you never left her gaze, how you keep your voice neutral and unreadable.

But then, you remained composed. Chuckling but you didn't give any response to her question, instead you answered with a question yourself.

"Wanda, have you had dreams?"

She frowned before huffing softly, but failed to hide the slight uptick in her lips. She leans back slightly, her gaze drifting away before slowly returning to meet yours.

"It's here, right in front of me."

As Wanda answered, a smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth draws Wanda's attention back to your face. She sees the genuine smile hiding behind the smirk, and it makes her pause. She's not used to seeing genuine smiles, especially not directed at her. Wanda's eyes linger on your smile, her gaze seeming to drink in the sight. She notices the way your indifference during the first interrogation melts away, replaced by something warmer. Something that makes Wanda's heart skip a beat.

"Have you lost someone?" You asked another question, much personal this time. But silence was the only answer you got back from Wanda. You expected for it to not work for now but you know that eventually, later on, you will get something out from her—you will make her say something.

"I used to have dreams, Wanda." When the words escape your lips, you see Wanda's eyes widen slightly, hanging onto each word. "I dream of my kids, and I dream about losing them every single time." You continued. Your dreams have become a nightly ritual, an obsession. Every night, you relive the same scene, sitting on the couch, surrounded by laughter, playful shouts and calls for you—their mommy. You're surrounded by your children, their faces blurry but their joy unmistakable. And then, next thing you know is you're awake in an empty bed, no signs of your children.

"Every time?" She asks, already knowing the answer.

You hesitate, then nod. "Like clockwork. I see them, hear them. They feel so real…" You trail off, smiling at the memories. "Then they're gone." You add softly, unconsciously wrapping your arms around yourself. Wanda swallows hard, her fingers twitching slightly. "It's funny because I don't even want kids, but after those dreams, when I wake up the first thing I expect to see is them beside me."

As she sits there, watching you wrestle with the ghosts of your dream children, she feels an unfamiliar pull. She's seen the same thing in her own dreams—blurry faces, laughter that turns to silence.

"Every night the same dream, every morning the same nightmare." She murmured under her breath.

For the first time since you've seen her, Wanda's mask completely slips.

"I can say the same, Y/N. I've lost people I loved…but I am here to get them back now."

Bingo.

Wanda blinks, momentarily taken aback as she watches you rise, a flicker of confusion passing over her face.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Wanda." You say before disappearing, leaving her alone in the cold room.

ᱬ

Later that night, as the prison settles into a quiet routine, you find yourself back at your apartment.

You pour yourself a glass of wine, the cool liquid sliding down your throat as you relax on your couch. This case has been tough, but tonight, you finally made a huge progress. She had opened up, shown emotion. You smile smugly to yourself, confident that tomorrow, with your newfound insight, you'll finally break the case wide open.

You finish your glass of wine, feeling tired. You've had a long day of investigating and interrogating. You let out a breath, your body relaxing as you slide into bed in your silk nightgown. You close your eyes, ready for sleep. But you felt dizzy. As the room spins around you, suddenly, unmistakably, you hear it—laughter. The clear, joyous laughter of children echoes through your darkened bedroom. Your eyes fly open, but the sound doesn't stop. It surrounds you, bouncing off the walls, growing louder.

Figures begin to take shape right before your eyes. Two boys—the same children from your dreams. They're laughing, their faces fully visible this time, and they're reaching out their little hands towards you.

"Mommy!" You laugh, reaching to them.

But then, in an instant their laughter turns cold, their smiles disappearing as they hiss, "Mommy, go away! Run, Mommy, run!" They push you back, their small hands shoving you towards the bed. You saw a glowing figure just outside your door, a woman with horns in her head—glowing red.

Your kids continued to scream, "Run! Mommy!"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, you wrapped your arms around your children, pulling them close. You can feel their small bodies shaking, mirroring your own fear.

"Mommy, go." The first boy whispered.

"You have to go now, mommy." The other one said.

But you didn't let go of them. The footsteps grew louder and the figure was just right beside your bed. Blocking out the light on the hallway of your room.

You jolt upright in bed, your nightgown damp with sweat. You pant, looking around your room. No children, no figure. Just you and your phone ringing loud.

"Y/N," Maria's voice is tight, "Wanda escaped. We don't know how but we need you here. Now."

"2800 Sherwood Street, Eastview." You rattled out. Your heart pounds in your ears as you stand still. "Maria, 616 is after 818's kids, she might be on her way to get them now. Target is the variant Wanda of Earth-616. Presumed armed and dangerous. Objective: Contain and capture." You stood, walking to where your closet is, "Eliminate if you have to." You ended the call swiftly, pulling on your tactical gear—bulletproof vest, cargo pants, combat boots out of your cabinet.

When you were about to get undressed, there was a figure that loomed over your room's doorway. You can't be wrong but it was the same figure you saw in your dreams just a while back. A woman with little horns, glowing red.

As you sweep the hallway, you think you're alone. But then, a movement catches your eye—a shadow darting between rooms. You turned around, gun raised, heart pounding. "Who's there?" You call out, voice echoing through the empty house. Then, a shadow appeared right at the end of your hallway and it started crawling to your direction. Without thinking, you spin around and dash back to your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You lock it immediately, and aim your gun straight at the door as you step back.

You felt an energy behind you so you whirl around, gun still pointed at the air, only to find yourself face to face with the towering figure. It looms over you, the red light pulsing violently. Your hands tremble slightly as you raise the gun higher, aiming at the center of the shadowy mass. You gasp, eyes widening as you recognize the features hidden beneath the glowing shadow.

"W-Wanda?" Your voice is barely a whisper.

Her blackened fingers extend, reaching to the gun aiming at her and it disappears in a flash of dark energy. Before you could react, she snapped and in an instant you were up in the air. An unseen force lifts you off the ground, suspending you in mid-air with an invisible restraint tying your feet and hands. You struggle, legs kicking uselessly as you float higher but her eyes glow with an intensity you've never seen before, almost burning with the red energy that surrounds her. She watches you like a predator eyeing its prey—calculated, intense, and completely focused.

"Miss me?"

"What are you doing?" You manage to choke out, heart is now hammering to get out of your chest as you stare into her glowing eyes. Her appearance is disturbing; she wears a crown that looks like horns, and a suit that looks like it was drenched in blood. The red energy seems to be seeping from her very pores. Her features are still beautiful, but twisted into something dark and terrifying.

"To get what I lost."

Your frown deepens as you process her words.

Then, a chill laughter escaped her lips. "I thought you already figured it out, detective," she says mockingly, her voice dripping with condescension. "You're supposed to be the smart one. The one who sees through every lie and unravels every mystery." She leans in closer, her face inches from yours as you elevate in the air. "But you've got it all wrong."

Your mind races, trying desperately to connect the dots. Your detective mind isn't working at the moment and she tilts her head, studying your baffled expression with cruel amusement. Her blackened fingers gently caress your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. "You really don't get it, do you?" She murmurs, her touch icy cold. Her fingers started to caress your stomach. "Let me give you a hint...what's the same thing we lost every time we close our eyes?"

Your kids. Her kids.

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion. "But…I-I don't have your kids, Wanda."

"Oh, you will." Her voice drops to a threatening whisper as she snaps her fingers again. In an instant, you find yourself falling backward onto your bed, the familiar indentation of your pillow against your head. Wanda begins to crawl up your body, her blackened fingers digging into the blankets, pulling her closer. Her face hovers above yours, her twisted crown casting ominous shadows on the walls. "Now, let's make them, shall we?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying desperately that this is all just a nightmare. But as Wanda's cold hands begin to roam over your chest, pulling the knots of your nightgown, you realize with a sinking heart that this is no dream. This is terrifyingly, undeniably real.

"Open your eyes."

A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air hits your bare skin. You have nothing under your nightgown, just your lacy panties. You're exposed, vulnerable, lying naked beneath her. She takes a moment to admire the sight, her red eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "I knew you're more beautiful without clothes," she murmurs, tracing a finger down your chest. She then squeezes them roughly, pinching your nipples between her fingers until you gasp in pain. Her other hand reaches up to grab your throat, squeezing tightly as she attacks your chest with a frenzy of kisses and bites.

You arch your back in pain as Wanda's cold hands maul your breasts, her fingers digging into your flesh like claws. Her hand around your throat tightens, cutting off your air supply as she nuzzles her face between your breasts, inhaling your scent deeply. Your body goes limp beneath hers. You spread your legs wider, letting her settle deeper between your thighs. Your arms lift up, wrapping around her neck possessively. You whimper softly as she bites down hard on your collarbone.

Her fingers slip beneath the lacy fabric of your underwear and immediately find their way inside your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, her skin so cold it burns against your sensitive flesh. She begins to move her fingers in and out of you brutally, ignoring your cries. She silences you with a brutal kiss, her cold fingers continuing their relentless assault on your insides. Her thumb finds your clit, pressing down hard as she forces another finger inside you. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate her blackened fingers, your body trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure.

You should be fighting, clawing, biting, anything to make her stop. Instead, you find yourself wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer as she invades your cunt with cold, blackened fingers.

Letting her darkness in.

"Hng Wanda..." You whimpered.

She smirks wickedly as she hears you cry out her name, your pleasured gasps mingling with anguished moans. Her eyes glitter with cruel triumph. "Say my name again," she commands.

"W-Wanda…" You stuttered.

Then, she curled her fingers inside you agonizingly slow, hitting that perfect spot. "Louder."

"Fuck! Wanda!"

Just as you're about to release the coil on your stomach, she pulls her fingers out of you suddenly, leaving you gaping and empty. You whimper in protest, but before you can even process what's happening, she shoves two of her blackened fingers into your mouth instead.

"Suck."

Magic crackles in the air as Wanda presses her blackened fingers against your lips, demanding obedience. Shimmering sparks dance before your eyes before you reluctantly close them, submitting as your mouth envelops her fingers. The metallic taste of chaos magic and your wetness coats your tongue, making you shudder.

She pulls her fingers free from your mouth, leaving behind trails of dark magic. Kneeling between your legs, she lets you see the crimson strap-on secured around her waist—it looked so real, enchanted.

As you finally register what's happening, adrenaline shoots through your veins. Your body goes instantly rigid, eyes wide with realization and fear.

"No..." you whimper, trying to close your legs, but she holds them firmly open with her knees. The alarm bells in your mind scream to fight back.

With a cruel smile, she rips your delicate underwear to shreds, discarding the remains aside. She grabs your thighs tightly, spreading your legs as far apart as they'll go. The enchanted strap-on hangs between her legs, the chaos runes pulsing with dark energy.

"It's time to make what we lost."

She rubs the tip against your wet entrance, coating it with your arousal. You watch in horror as she throws her head back, moaning softly. "You're so tight, around my cock," she hisses, gripping your hips. Without warning, she snaps her hips forward, burying the entire length inside you brutally. She shushes your cries, her free hand caressing your cheek, kissing your forehead soothingly as she continues to brutally thrust the strap-on into you with each heartbeat. With every painful push, you let out a little whimper, your body trembling beneath hers.

"It hurts, Wanda…" you sobbed.

"I know, detka." She placed her forehead against yours before kissing them again, her thumb gently stroking your cheek as she continued to ravage you with the cock. "It's supposed to hurt." She murmurs against your forehead, "This pain will remind you who you belong to now." As she continues to brutally thrust into you, she starts to feel pleasure from the enchanted device. The chaos runes absorb your pain and convert it into dark energy, feeding into Wanda. She moans softly, nuzzling your face, "You're hurting so nicely…" The pleasure builds inside her, her hips snapping forward with increased force, the strap-on plunging deeper into your torn and stretched flesh. She buries her face in your neck, kissing and biting your skin as she chases her orgasm. "I'm going to cum inside you, my love."

All you can feel is the relentless pain, your body bruised and your pussy battered by her cock. But despite the agony, you nod dumbly, willing to take whatever she gives you. "Yes, Wanda," you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. "Please, please."

She presses a palm firmly against your stomach, feeling the prominent bulge of the strap-on inside you. "Feel that, detka? Feel how deep I am?" She pants harshly, her hips grinding against yours. "You'll be filled with my cum, marked from the inside out."

"Then, we will never lose them again."

"Please…I don't wanna lose them again, Wanda. Please, give me my kids. G-give me your babies."

Your statement throws her over the edge. She groans loudly, her body tensing as she forces her cock deep inside you, releasing wave after wave of hot, enchanted seed. The chaos runes pulse dangerously, filling your womb with dark energy.

She collapses onto you, panting heavily as she caresses your stomach, feeling the warmth of her release inside you.

"Our kids…" she slipped out of you. Making you whimper from the empty feeling. Then, her hand slowly trailed down to your pussy, feeling the wetness of her cum mixing with yours as she pushed it back inside you.

"We'll never lose them again."

ᱬ

You blinked groggily as you stirred awake in your bedroom decorated in a vintage 1950s style. A silky nightgown slips off one shoulder as you sit up slowly. You stare at the two boys beside you, your heart swelling with love. And your dear wife, Wanda lies in between them, her hand protectively resting on the boys' backs, a soft smile on her sleeping face.

Feeling you're moving away, Wanda calls out softly, stirring in her sleep. "Hey, mommy." She carefully removes her arms from around the twins, ensuring they don't wake up.

"Hey." You greeted back, groaning as you finally managed to stand. Wanda immediately rounded the bed to get to you.

"Mmm, good morning, my love." Before you can say a word, she leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips. She took your hands as she sat back on the bed. Then, blackened fingers slide down to your swollen stomach, you laugh, guiding her head as she leans down to kiss your bump.

"Good morning, little one," she coos. "We can't wait to meet you soon."

—

Author's Note: This was supposed to have an angsty ending but I remember promising someone here to write a Wanda fic w happy ending.

I just want to inform everyone that this might be the last fic I will be posting. I will be on hiatus since I have been missing school a lot due to health issues and I need to keep up and get back on track. Every series/fics of mine will be put on hold for a while, but I promise that the first thing I'll post when I get back are updates on them. I'll see you all around :)))

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff au #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch au #scarlet witch

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formula-ghost · 2 months ago

Text

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 1

SERIES SUMMARY: You’ve been best friends with Oscar Piastri since you were seven, far before the dream of Formula 1 even seemed possible. You’ve been with him from the very beginning—due, in no small part, to the fact that you’ve been in love with him since you were a teenager. But when a breakup and championship battle rattles the very foundations of your friendship, you begin to question if you ever really knew him. (Best friends to lovers, based on the song Wildflower by Billie Eilish)

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

WARNINGS: Oscar is not a very good boyfriend to Lily and Lily is not a very good girlfriend to Oscar. Potentially changed some dates (I think Oscar and Lily started dating when they were 17 or 18, but I’m making them 18 for the sake of the flashback scenes). Reader is “the girl he told me not to worry about” through no fault of her own. This story has a lot of complex character dynamics and everyone is flawed! References to sex but no actual smut.

A/N: Ah new series! I hope this is good—I’m trying some new stuff with the flashbacks and story layers, so I hope it doesn’t read too confusingly! Also, I’m trying to be more intentional with showing instead of telling with my dialogue and such, so hopefully that is an improvement. I always welcome constructive criticism, but either way, I hope you all enjoy this.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

“Lily left me.”

He only needed those three words to convey the gravity of the situation. On the other end of the line, you were silent. He was too. What was there to say?

No, it couldn’t be real. Oscar and Lily were inseparable. The dream couple of Formula 1. Your best friend had been in love with her since the pair were 18, attending boarding school in the UK together while Oscar pursued his dreams of making it to F1.

They were each other’s everything. At least, that’s what the world thought.

But you had seen this coming for a while now. It was just a shock for it to actually happen.

Finally, after an eternity, you spoke, still too shocked to formulate a coherent thought. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean she fucking left me. What else do you want me to say?” You could hear the quivering in his voice, giving away the sadness behind his abrasive response. You weren’t offended one bit.

“Shit, Osc, I’m so sorry. I… don’t know what to say. Do you want me to come over? Or you can come to mine?”

“I’m outside yours right now. In the car park.”

“I’ll let you in,” you said. The mental image you conjured of Oscar outside your apartment crying in his fancy McLaren would have been comical, if not given the circumstances.

He let himself in only a few moments later, hoodie covering his tall and muscled frame. He was soaked from the rain outside—he must have come directly from the confrontation.

“Oh, Oscar,” you said, pulling him into a hug, cringing at the contact with his soggy hoodie, but knowing that there were far more important things to be worried about.

You rubbed your hands up and down his shoulder blades that now heaved with sobs. His entire body shook with the fervor of his tears, and you just held him, gently shushing him and promising that everything will be okay.

“I don’t know how she could do this to me,” he said, gasping out the words between haggard breaths. “The championship—I can’t do it without her.”

“I know,” you assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No it’s not, YN, it’s not gonna be okay. I love her. And she just threw away so many years.”

“I know.” You just kept assuring him, tightening your grip on him as his sobs became more intense. “Just breathe.”

“Why would she do this to me?” he asked. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

You knew. And deep down, Oscar did too. That was a conversation for another day. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming.

You didn’t have it in you to lie to him. You had always been the type to pride yourself on being honest, even when the truth hurt, but you couldn’t bear to do it now. You changed the subject.

“Oscar, you’re soaking wet. I’ll find you something else and warm that up in the dryer, yeah? Just sit down, take a deep breath, and let me get this figured out.”

He sat down on your couch and took off his hoodie and t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned body. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before—you’d been friends with him since you were seven, growing up together. He almost felt like a brother to you, sometimes.

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird at all, except for the fact that you’d been in love with him for over a decade now.

But right now that didn’t matter. He had plenty of old hoodies over in your apartment, which you carefully folded every time he forgot them. Placing his wet clothes in the dryer and setting the temp on high, you reached to the shelf above you and grabbed a random one. You unfolded it—an Alpine hoodie from back in the day, before his time at McLaren. You smiled at the memories that flashed in your mind, before quickly returning to Oscar with the garment.

He had moved from your couch to your bedroom, holding a pillow on his lap, hunched over where the top of it met his chin. He was staring off into space, not breaking his gaze at the plain white wall.

You sat next to him, handing him the hoodie, and he mumbled a small thanks as he grabbed it. He didn’t put it on, instead just holding it with the pillow, as if filling his arms with the plush material would fill the hole now left in his heart.

“Oscar, I… don’t have anything profound to say. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond at first, instead just silently letting the tears well up in his eyes.

“I guess I should have seen this coming,” he said quietly.

You paused, unsure whether or not you should agree with him. But you were nothing if not honest.

“Yeah,” you said, “it’s been a rough few months.”

“I guess we just both fell out of love.”

“I mean… how did the conversation go?”

It would be stupidly easy for Oscar to lie and say he didn’t remember Lily’s every word. But he knew better, and so did you. As he explained, the memory replayed in his head.

“I can’t do this anymore, Oscar,” Lily said, a simple yet devastating statement.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” His confusion was genuine, much to the chagrin of his angry girlfriend.

“The fact that you even have to ask that proves my point.”

“Lily, talk to me. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Oscar stood up, now understanding the full gravity of the situation he found himself in.

“I’m trying to say that I’m not happy anymore, and neither are you. I wanted to at least give it until the end of the season, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when we both know bloody well that it’s not! Don’t you want something better than this, Oscar?” Lily pleaded.

“I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Don’t lie to me. You say that but you put everything else before me. I’m not a priority to you. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“I’ll quit F1. We can go back to the UK and live a normal life.”

“No. We both know that you wouldn’t do that.” Her tone was incredulous, twinged with a slight anger at the mere suggestion.

“Yes, I would. I’d do anything. Don’t do this, Lily. Not now, not when I need you the most.”

Lily grabbed his hand, leading him to sit down on the couch next to her. “Oscar,” she began, “we had a good run. You made me so, so happy for so long.” She reached up to gently cup his cheeks and wipe away where tears were now forming at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you achieve things that neither of us ever thought were possible. But…I can’t stay any longer. Not when there’s no place for me in your heart anymore.”

You sighed. You knew every word that Lily had said was right. But you also knew you couldn’t get that through to Oscar, at least not until the shock wore off.

The words remained unspoken. You had been there for all of it. Lily was his first love, his only girlfriend, and everyone assumed that he’d marry her one day; you included.

“I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on acting like my life didn’t just fall apart. How did you do it?”

This was Oscar's first breakup, but you had been through too many, it seemed, since he was asking you for advice on how to handle them.

The truth? It was very easy to get over a breakup when every partner you’ve ever had was a feeble attempt at denial. When they all inevitably failed, you just went back to bask in Oscar’s platonic love. It was enough.

“I won’t lie to you, the first one is always hell. You feel like you’re going crazy for a while. You lose hope that you’ll ever feel happier, because everything reminds you of them. And then one day it just…doesn’t. The only thing that heals it is time and finding love around you, you know, friends and family.”

“No offense, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

‘Well, I’m not going to lie to you and say it’ll be easy, because it won't. But it will be okay—not today, but someday. You’ve got something to focus on with the championship. And I’ll be here.” You gave him an empathetic smile.

Maybe you weren’t the most comforting friend to most. But you and Oscar had a bond that was very different to most friendships. You understood each other’s idiosyncrasies in ways no one else could. So when shit hit the fan, it was always each other that you went to.

You continued, “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

There was only one problem: your apartment only had one bed. And to the dismay of fanfiction writers across the world, you all would not be sharing it.

You distracted Oscar by cooking a meal and watching a comfort movie—Cars, a classic. You could tell he was exhausted by the way his head on your shoulder sloped just a little too heavily downwards as the credits rolled.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed,” you said, gently pushing him awake. He sleepily stumbled back into your bedroom and collapsed on the bed, almost instantly falling back asleep.

You took the couch, but despite the money you spent splurging on the extra cushioned sofa, no sleep came to you.

It wasn’t any physical discomfort that fueled your insomnia, but rather, the events of the previous evening. Lily had actually left Oscar. She had finally pulled the plug.

Yes, in some ways, it was expected. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine a version of your best friend that wasn’t madly in love with his girlfriend.

From the outside, though, you couldn’t blame Lily one bit. You wondered what had been the last straw.

You could think of three possible moments. First: The Apartment.

“I’m moving to Monaco,” Oscar began, and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Of course, one day he’d make it to Monaco. That was the dream of every Formula 1 driver, right? The beauty of the French Riviera and tax evasion. And you’d be left at your aging flat in the UK, waiting for those precious few days a year where he was free to grace you with his presence.

“That’s amazing!” you said, only half believing it to be true.

“In a few weeks I’m gonna go look at condos. Come with me? Lily can’t get off work.”

“Of course,” you replied. You’d already been to Monaco before for Oscar’s races, but you wouldn’t turn down any reason to get out of the constant dreary rain of the UK.

You felt like a celebrity as you coasted through the Monte Carlo streets in the passenger side of Oscar’s McLaren, on your way to tour fabulous properties for your best friend (the actual celebrity). You breathed in the saltwater breeze, fresh and tinged with the air of wealth and splendor.

But it hurt your heart to know that you were helping your best friend leave. You imagined him getting up and doing his morning runs along the harbor, the sun blazing down the strained muscles on his back. Then you laughed to yourself at the thought of Oscar, the pastiest Aussie you knew, getting sunburnt.

At the first property you met the realtor, who (after mistaking you for Lily; not the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last) took the pair of you to different condos throughout the day.

Oscar decided on the final one you saw; two bedrooms, plenty of natural light, and a great view. Elegant, refined and practical—just like Oscar himself.

The realtor handed him the paperwork and left as you stood on the balcony, looking at the beauty of the city before you. You were quiet, unusually so, and Oscar noticed.

He sat the paperwork on the kitchen counter and walked onto the balcony next to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice lowered. “You’re gonna make such beautiful memories here.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me now?”

You smiled and laughed. “A little,” you admitted, “I can’t help it. I’ll miss you all.”

“You could always come with us. You seem to like it here,” he teased, tilting his head toward the edge of the balcony.

“You’d have to give me a raise if I was gonna afford Monaco rent prices.” You’d been running Oscar’s merch store and social media for the past few years, making a great wage, but nowhere near the immense wealth you’d need to call a place like this home. You joked with him, knowing Oscar actually had nothing to do with how much you got paid.

“I would if I could. But, I mean, if you had a place to stay it wouldn’t really be that bad.”

“Are you suggesting I move into your guest room?”

Now he laughed. “No, but I’m just saying, if you had an apartment, you could make it work.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused, but trying to go along with the joke. “Well, sure, but apartments don’t just appear out of thin air.”

“You never know.” Oscar scratched the back of his neck and looked away, a sign of the awkwardness that now blanketed your moment on the balcony.

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, theoretically, if someone were to have a spare apartment that they weren’t using, you could live there and Monaco would be a reasonable place to live, no?”

You didn’t answer his question, instead just giving him another confused glance until he gave up whatever he was trying to say. He still couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Look—I don’t want to live so far away from my friend. Is that such a bad thing?”

“Oscar, you…”

“I got you an apartment.”

“You… bought me an apartment. In Monaco.” It came out more like a statement than a question, evidence of your shock. He reached into his pocket and dug out a key, holding it out to you.

You just looked at him with an incredulous expression. “Oscar, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?”

“How much was it?”

“I have more than enough money.”

“Answer the question.”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “About 4 million?”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Before you say anything,” he began, “I made over 30 million last year. I have more money than I’d ever know what to do with, so why not just spend it all on the people I love?”

“Oscar… I can’t, that’s too much.”

“Will you at least go look at it with me? Actually, I’m driving, so you don’t have a choice,” he joked, walking back into the apartment. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself. There was no way you could let Oscar buy you a 4 million dollar apartment, but also, how could you not? The wind whipped through your hair as you rolled down the window of his McLaren, drinking in the beauty of the city around you.

The apartment was smaller than the one he had picked for himself and Lily, but you didn’t mind one bit. It was perfectly cosy, and God, the view was spectacular. You could see the whole city from his apartment, but here, you could see the water. You stepped on the balcony and took a deep breath, taking in the sound of the ocean waves beneath you.

Oscar followed you. “It’s a bit small, but I figured you’d like the view.”

“Oscar…”

“If you really don’t want it, I can rent it out. But I’d much rather have you close.” He held out the keys again. “What do you say?”

You could have told him you needed more time to think about it, but deep down, you already knew what you wanted. You took the keys. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Oscar. Seriously.”

“No need to thank me.” He smiled.

Back in the UK, he showed Lily the photos he had taken of the condo he had chosen for them as they went over the paperwork one last time.

He grabbed the pen to scratch out one of the boxes Lily had checked, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, did I mess something up?” Shit. She leaned over his shoulder, reading the paperwork aloud. “Please indicate if you own any additional properties in the principality of Monaco.” She looked at Oscar. “You already have a property there?”

“Oh, erm, yeah,” he said, hoping the conversation would end there.

“How come I never heard about this?”

“Um, I just got it a bit ago.”

Lily could sense her boyfriend’s hesitancy. “Is this something I wasn’t supposed to know about?”

“Oh, no,” he said, “it’s not like that. I just didn’t think to mention it.”

“So, what is this property?”

“An apartment.”

Lily hated feeling like she was having to interrogate Oscar, but clearly there was some piece of the puzzle missing that was causing his reluctance.

“An apartment?” she questioned. “You got another apartment?”

“Yeah, I, um,” he looked at the ceiling while scratching his neck, a clear sign of his nervousness, “I was planning on giving it to YN.”

“You bought YN an apartment in Monaco? When were you planning on telling me about this?”

His walls of defense had finally broken down. “It’s not a big deal. I made more than enough last season, I could afford it. And it’s just easier to have her there for the brand shoots and media stuff. Plus, I mean, she came to London to support me after graduation, even though I know she hates it here. I just figured I should repay the favor.”

“...Okay,” Lily began, her voice tinged with skepticism. “So, you do realize what this looks like, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my boyfriend bought an apartment for his “best friend” and tried to hide it from me. That’s the kind of thing cheating husbands do in movies, buy an apartment for their mistress for her to keep it quiet.”

Oscar wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the air quotes Lily placed around “best friend” or the insinuation that he had been unfaithful.

“Lily, seriously? I’m not cheating on you, I love you and you know that.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You know YN and I have been friends forever, it’s not like I did this for some random woman. I don’t appreciate being accused of lying.”

“But you were lying by omission.”

“Lily—”

“You know, nothing against her, but one of the reasons I was looking forward to this move was having more…us time. Without YN.”

The statement brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Despite what she had said, it seemed like Lily did have something against you.

“You know, this kind of thing is why I was putting off telling you about it.”

“What are you saying?” she asked. Oscar knew he was tempting fire, but he didn’t care.

He continued, “You’re freaking out because I did something kind for a friend. I’m allowed to do whatever I want with my money.”

“I never said you weren’t, and I’m not freaking out. But I guess I’m just such a horrible person for saying I want to spend more time with my boyfriend.”

“If you’re putting down my “best friend” to do it,” he said, mocking her air quotes, “then yeah, that’s not cool.”

“Oscar, you’re being so…weird about all of this. I’m not insulting YN. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“We’re literally going on vacation in February!”

“With friends. You invited your friends to our romantic getaway, Oscar.”

“You know I only have so much time off during the off season, and I’m spending most of it with realtors and accountants and eight thousand other people preparing us for this move. God forbid I want to invite my friends to Italy with us. Not everything can be just us, Lily.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m done with this conversation.”

The second next instance you could think of happened on the trip.

It was a beautiful getaway to the Amalfi Coast, your dream destination that you’d somehow never made it to.

The group of Oscar’s friends, including you and Lando, had plans to come and go, with everyone being gone before the fourteenth so that Oscar and Lily could have their Valentine's Day date. Of course, you knew nothing of the arguments they’d had in the past about this, but you had common sense enough to not be a third wheel. Oscar thought this was a good enough compromise.

Well, he thought.

From the moment he picked you up from the airport, you could tell that the energy was different than usual. He blamed it on jet lag, but you knew better. You knew your best friend too well.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the problem was between him and Lily. She was colder towards him; not enough for anyone but you and him to notice, but still there and undeniable.

Even weirder was Lily’s…preoccupation, it seemed, with pointing out single and attractive men to you. It wasn’t a hushed reality that you were single, and had been for some time. You'd given up on dating a long time ago—you knew that you had already found the love of your life, and he just happened to be Lily’s boyfriend.

But, of course, you’d never tell anyone this. Lots of people were confused because you seemed so fine being single. But you thought that Lily, one of your best friends (at least, by association), would know that you weren’t really interested in meeting anyone.

You sat with Lily in a restaurant overlooking the coast, the balcony having been rented out by Oscar for one of your last dinners. You all were waiting for him and Lando to join you, passing the time by ordering wine and appetizers.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Lily said, gesturing her head to your waiter that was walking back into the main restaurant.

You didn’t really know what to say. You glanced at him through the glass wall. “Lily, he most definitely plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” you joked, reaching for a slice of bread on the table. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

“Well I don’t mean for me, I meant for you.”

You chuckled. “For me?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you want to get yourself a hot Italian man?”

“I’m perfectly happy being single.” You tried to diffuse the awkward conversation, keeping a kind tone in your voice as you ate the bread and looked into the distance at the coastline.

“Oh, come on. We’ll get you someone, don’t worry.”

“I really am fine being single.”

“You know who else is single?” she asked, clearly ignoring your protests. “Lando!”

You laughed aloud. “Oh God, no. If I wanted to be cheated on, I would have stayed with my ex. Besides, Oscar would kill him.”

A curious fact: Oscar had never approved of a single person you had ever introduced him to. You had to spend hours talking him out of running over your ex with his F1 car after you found out about his infidelity.

“Oh, who cares what Oscar thinks? I think you should go for it,” she said, watching as the waiter returned to pour your glasses of wine.

“Lily,” you said, holding your glass, ready to take a sip, “I don’t want to be in a relationship, like, at all. It’s just…not for me.” You sipped the wine, but through the reflection on the glass, you could see that Lily had pursed her lips in an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“If you want me to stop third-wheeling you and Oscar, you can just say so,” you joked as the boys made their way to the balcony to join you.

You didn’t know it, but your joke cut deep in Lily’s heart.

Nothing was said about it during the dinner, but Lily’s strange energy continued. It quickly became uncomfortable how much she was pushing Lando and you to interact.

And when you all made your way to a local nightclub after the dinner, it didn’t get any better. Lando quickly got himself lost in the crowd, and you were once again left to be the third wheel.

You could tell that Lily was getting annoyed, but to be fair, she was also annoying you.

“Go dance with Lando!” she shouted over the thumping bass. She gestured to the opposite corner of the small club, where Lando was currently making out with some random Italian woman.

You pointed this fact out to Lily, who just grimaced.

“Do you just want me to go away?” you joked.

“Yes!” she said, and you were taken aback, because she was definitely not joking.

Oscar was at the bar getting drinks, far enough away that he couldn’t hear. To be honest, you didn’t even want to be in this club anymore.

So you snuck out and began your walk home without telling any of them.

As you walked along the cobblestone streets, Oscar handed Lily a drink, pausing when he noticed that you weren’t there to receive yours. “Where’s YN?” he asked.

“She wasn’t feeling well, so she headed back,” Lily said.

“By herself? Should we go check on her?”

Lily wanted to roll her eyes. “No, she’s just tired. C’mon, let’s go dance!”

Oscar obeyed, but couldn’t ignore the feeling inside him that something about this whole night had been odd.

The next time he saw Lando, he decided to say something about it.

“Hey mate, are you going back soon?” he asked. Lando nodded, clearly tipsy. “Can you check on YN? Lily said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Sure,” he said, annoyed at the mention of you again.

He did come back to the house soon, but with an equally drunk and giggly woman on his arm, the same girl he had been making out with in the corner of the club.

You didn’t expect any of them for a long time, so you sat in the living room of the AirBNB, watching the waves cascade into the shore, romanticizing this complicated feeling that coiled itself inside of you.

That was, until Lando stumbled in.

His eyes got wide as dinner plates upon seeing you. The girl on his arm giggled and walked off into the nearest bathroom.

“Hey YN,” he slurred. “Are you dying?”

You laughed. “I’m fine.”

“Lily said you were sick.”

“Nope, I’m good.”

He looked to the closed door of the bathroom. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“You’re fine. I’m…uh, not interested, anyway. I don’t know what Lily’s been on about today.”

“Oh, thank God,” he exhaled. You laughed, despite the sting of rejection in his relief. “Well, I’ll keep it quiet.”

“I’ve got headphones.”

You made your way to your room and put on your noise cancelling headphones, passing the time by scrolling and catching up on work emails, before falling asleep.

You didn’t sleep through the night, instead waking up in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just beginning to round itself along the golden coast. You left your room to get a glass of water, not expecting to see the rest of your friends in the kitchen.

Lily looked hungover as hell, leaning her elbow on the counter, her hand resting uncomfortably on her forehead. Oscar was leaning against the counter on the other side while Lando sat at the bar next to Lily, drinking something out of a mug. His flight home was going to leave soon.

You nodded to your three companions as you sipped your water glass, feeling the tension around you like an oncoming migraine.

“You feeling okay?” Oscar asked. “Lily said you weren’t doing well last night.”

“Ah, just tired,” you answered. Lily had lied to both Lando and Oscar. That was a conversation for another day.

“Well rested now?” Lily asked, her voice tinged with anger and fake sympathy.

“I’m fine,” was all you could answer. You glanced at Oscar, who gave you a knowing look. You had no idea what had gotten into her.

“Are you feeling okay, Lily? You look like you’re about to throw up,” you said, a more genuine concern in your voice.

“I’m fine too,” she said, clearly not fine.

Lando’s Uber pulled up, and you took the opportunity to help him transfer all his bags in one trip.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on with her?” he asked as you heaved the suitcase up into the trunk.

“No idea,” you answered. “Before you all got to the restaurant last night she was being…weird. For the record, I didn’t put her up to any of that.”

“I figured as much. You’re not the type.” Lando was right—it was common knowledge that you were happily single.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. For the record, it made me uncomfortable too.”

He exhaled. “Eh, we’re cool. No hard feelings, yeah? I’m sure she’ll snap out of it.”

“I hope so,” you said, giving him a wave as the car disappeared into the winding roads of the coast.

Back in the house, you could hear Oscar and Lily whispering to each other. You wanted nothing more than to disappear and act like this weird night and morning had never happened, but unfortunately, you had to cross through the kitchen back to your room.

A hush went through the room when you entered. You walked as quickly as possible through the kitchen, but were stopped by a voice.

“YN,” Lily called. “I think you should leave.”

“Lily—” Oscar interjected.

“I was just going back to my room anyway,” you explained.

“That’s not what I meant. I think you should go home.”

“Lily, don’t do this—” Oscar pleaded. You just stood in shock.

“Actually, let me clarify,” she continued. “YN, I don’t want you here. Go home.”

“Lily!” Oscar interjected. “Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, even though it was definitely not fine. “Let me pack and I’ll be on my way.”

You turned and continued back to your room, fully prepared to do as you had just said. But Oscar followed you.

“YN, wait. Stay,” he said.

“Oscar, it’s fine.”

“I am so sorry that Lily said that, but I want you here.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two or why she’s so upset at me, but if someone tells me to go, I’m not going to overstay my welcome.”

“Still, that was so rude.”

“I’ve got thick skin. I won’t cry myself to sleep over it.” You looked out the window to the coast. “Look, I’ll just find someplace else to stay. A hotel for a few nights is cheaper than trying to reschedule my flight, anyways.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, Osc,” you said, patting his shoulder. “Go talk to her, figure out what’s wrong.”

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I already know what’s wrong. She’s mad that we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Then go spend time with her.”

“That was the plan! But, I mean, I’m pissed that she said that to you. And she spent all day yesterday trying to set you and Lando up, which was fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a twinge of laughter. “Look, with my record I can’t exactly give you love advice, but I don’t mind leaving. You all clearly need some space, anyway. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”

Oscar gave you a flat smile and nod.

You packed and quickly booked a private room at a local hostel for the next few days, planning to enjoy the last few days as a solo trip. You truly didn’t care, but in the back of your mind, you hoped that everything would be okay. You never received that text from Oscar.

Back at the house, Oscar and Lily were alone. And neither of them were happy.

“Just fucking go with her if you’re that mad,” Lily said, egging Oscar on. He had always been slow to anger, but he couldn’t deny that he was pissed.

“What is wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why would you say that to her? Do you understand how rude that is? And not to mention the fact that you were being fucking weird with her and Lando all night.”

“Oscar, I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“No, I’m pissed!”

“And, as usual, it’s all about your feelings, hm?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act stupid. Do you know how much I’ve put up with because I don’t want to hurt your feelings? Every vacation, every race weekend, she’s always there. And I put up with her because she’s your friend, but I don’t like her, Oscar.”

“What did she do to you?” he asked. But Lily couldn’t answer. It wasn’t like there had been a specific incident or falling out; in fact, you had always been kind to her. Lily’s silence was all the answer that Oscar needed.

“You knew that YN and I were a package deal from the beginning.”

Tears came to Lily’s eyes. “But this was supposed to be our trip. Just us.”

“Lily, they were only here for a few days. I specifically set it up so that we’d have 2 weeks to ourselves after they left. Is that not enough?”

She was silent, at first. Then came a question out of left field.

“Were you going to propose?” she asked.

Oscar made a face. “Propose?”

“I thought the point of the trip was that you were going to propose.” She looked away, trying to hide her tears. “I’m tired of feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. I’m sick of YN third wheeling, so I thought if I set her up with Lando, maybe she’d leave us alone for a while.” Her voice was tinged with an angry mocking.

She continued, softer, “Oscar, I want to be your wife, I want to grow old with you—”

But Oscar had little sympathy for her. “That’s really what all this was about? Lily, I’m not proposing any time soon.”

“We’ve been together for nearly five years.”

“I know. But with the season starting soon—”

“There’ll always be another season, another race. Is your plan to just marry me when you retire?” The sarcasm had returned to her voice. “Do you even want to marry me?”

“Of course I do. But we’re young, we have time. I’m in no rush.”

“I feel like you don’t care about what I want at all.”

“Lily, I’m trying. But I feel like you want me to cut off my best friend and settle down at 22. You’re asking things of me that I can’t give you.”

“Then why are we even doing this?” Lily asked.

“Because I love you, and I want this to work! But Lily, you can’t treat my friends like that. If you’re angry at me, talk to me, but don’t take it out on them. YN is an important part of my life, too.”

“I’m well aware.”

Oscar sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Lily announced, leaving the conversation altogether.

When she woke up, her head was pounding. Oscar was asleep beside her, his back towards her, no warmth even in his unconscious state. She had slept through the entire day—the moon hung high in the sky.

As she quietly made her way to the kitchen and got some water and a snack, the memory of what had happened came back, rushing over her. She felt horrible.

The sleep and food had reset her mind. Make no mistake, she was still upset at Oscar, but what he had said was right—she shouldn’t have taken it out on you. She needed to make it right.

She texted you. Hey YN, are you awake? I’d like to talk. In person, if you can.

Only a few minutes later you responded, affirming that you were available and sending the address of your hostel. Lily got there quickly, quietly walking through the rooms to your private room in the back. When you shut the door behind you and you both sat on the bed, she broke down.

“YN,” Lily began, “I am so sorry about this morning. Truthfully, I was upset at Oscar and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have. I was so rude.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.

“No, it’s not,” Lily interjected. But she seemed at a loss for words. “I just… sometimes, I feel like I hardly get any alone time with Oscar anymore.”

“Because I’m always there?” you joked, not knowing how close to the truth you really were. Lily didn’t respond. “Look, if you want me to take a step back, I can do that.”

Her response was quiet. “Would that be too much to ask?”

“No.” But it was, in a way. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, but your expression gave away nothing. “I understand.”

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” Lily confessed. You normally didn’t want to know the details of their relationship, because the truth was too heavy to bear. But it seemed cruel to cut her off. “I feel like he never wants to be around me, like he prefers his work and his friends over me. I want to get married and he doesn’t. He keeps saying it's too soon and he’s busy, but it’s been nearly five years! I mean, how long does he want me to wait?”

You felt uncomfortable, not sure how to comfort your best friend's girlfriend. So you were honest. “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know what goes on in Oscar’s head any more than you do.”

“Yes you do,” she replied. “You’ve known him longer.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“No, no, no,” you said, wrapping Lily in an embrace as she cried. “No, he’s not. He loves you so much.”

“No,” she echoed. “He doesn’t.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just held her.

At one point, your phone buzzed, illuminating the screen. Some unimportant notification, but you noticed the date and time more than that. It was past midnight; Valentine’s Day.

The third instance was during the first weekend of the 2025 season; the Australian Grand Prix.

You hadn’t heard from Oscar since the trip. You didn’t really know what to say, and part of you was dreading having to speak to him, knowing that your mere presence was now a strain on his relationship.

Of course Lily wanted more time with him. It made sense. You were present at…most things, actually. But Oscar always invited you, and besides, they lived together. If you had known that you had overstayed your welcome, you never would have gone in the first place.

But on the other hand, you and Oscar had been a part of each other’s lives for nearly double the time that Lily had been around. It wasn’t a competition, but you couldn’t shake that sour feeling that rested in your stomach, that if given the chance, Lily would want you gone for good.

Regardless, between the trip and the grand prix, life went on as normal. It was odd, since your job was literally running all the official OP81 media pages and merch website. You couldn’t not be a part of his life—you made your living by posting memes about him on the internet and organizing all his merch sales.

So, naturally, you went to nearly all the races to take photos of fans, the paddock, and the garage. It was one of your favorite parts of the job.

But Australia was different. It was Oscar’s home race, and a place full of memories for you.

Your family had moved to Australia when you were only seven, having absolutely no friends, except the sweet boy next door in your cul de sac. At first he was cold. You thought he hated you. But you were nothing if not stubborn.

You remembered it like it was yesterday; for Christmas, you asked for a pink motorized jeep, just like the black one that Oscar—the neighbour boy, back then—had. You squealed for joy when you got it. And the very first thing you did was challenge him to a race.

He ignored you. So you rammed your car into his, causing both of them to break. Ever since, somehow, you’d been inseparable.

Your parents traveled a lot for work, so instead of constantly going with them, you found yourself staying with the Piastri family for months at a time. Nicole truly felt like your second mom, and Hattie was the sister you never had. And Oscar was…Oscar. It was impossible to describe the bond between you.

Your parents were never too keen on Oscar, though. They kept it quiet when you were little, but as you grew, their dislike became more outward.

He was 14, leaving for boarding school in the UK. When he told you, you cried. That’s the only time he ever saw you cry.

You wanted to go with him, but your parents couldn’t afford it. He promised he wouldn’t let your friendship die, and he was true to his word. When he got into the higher formulas in racing, he helped you get your job so that you all would never be that far from each other again.

But your parents always said he was using you, stringing you along, exploiting your labor. Though you’d never admitted it to another soul, they knew you well enough to understand that you loved him.

You cut your parents off a long time ago.

Sometimes the fans were worse. Half of them loved you—the half that understood that you could give them access to your idol—but the other half of them called you a beneficiary of nepotism, a gold digger, or a homewrecker. You learned at a young age to develop thick skin.

And it was how you both behaved on race weekends that really exemplified the difference between you and Lily.

You liked to be everywhere at once—in the garage trying to interpret the engineers’ technical jargon, in the grandstands taking photos of fans, in the pitlane shooting the shit with the race stewards. You always wore Oscar’s merch, and you wanted to be in the middle of all the action.

Lily, in contrast, was more reserved. She always looked put together, and frankly stunning, at all her appearances. She preferred to watch the race from the comfort and privacy of McLaren hospitality, and when she did interact with fans, she was respectful but short, very conscious of her space.

Neither of you were better or worse than the other. But no one could deny that you were polar opposites.

You got to Australia before Oscar himself did, having been invited to spend a few days with your surrogate family before you’d have to stay in the hotel, per F1 employee policy. Nicole had told Oscar, who you assumed had told Lily, and when you didn’t hear anything for a few days before you were meant to fly out, you thought everything was fine.

Of course, you thought wrong.

You spent 3 days with Oscar’s family, relishing the warm feeling of belonging that you’d missed. The Piastri guest room felt more like your own childhood bedroom. Of course, Nicole asked how you’d been, but you were politely distant, wanting to respect the fact that Oscar and Lily’s relationship was none of your business.

When the pair finally landed in Australia and made their way to Oscar’s childhood home for the night, though, things worsened.

When Nicole got back from picking them up from the airport, you were in the kitchen prepping dinner. Hearing the front door close, you looked up and smiled, greeting the group.

“YN! What are you doing here?” Lily asked, her voice tentative.

Nicole answered for you. “Oh, she’s been here since Sunday. I’m so happy to have all my kids under the same roof again,” she joked, turning to Oscar to reach up and pinch his cheeks.

Lily just gave a pained smile.

You didn’t know what to do. You hadn’t talked to Oscar in nearly a month. You wanted to honor her wishes—but it seemed like her wish was for you to vanish into thin air.

The rest of the night you were unusually quiet, trying to blend into the background. It wasn’t difficult for Nicole to notice that something was up, but she knew better than to bring it up in front of the whole table.

After dinner she wanted everyone to gather in the living room and watch a movie, which you quickly bowed out of, complaining of exhaustion.

As the credits rolled, Nicole leaned over to whisper to Oscar, “Is everything okay with YN?”

Lily overheard and interjected, “She’s fine.” Nicole raised an eyebrow.

Oscar responded, “The home grand prix is always busy for her.”

The answer wasn’t sufficient enough to crush Nicole’s suspicions, but she didn’t have any more time to pry as her son and his girlfriend quickly decided to retire for the night themselves.

The next morning, as everyone was packing to get to the hotel, Nicole decided to ask you herself if everything was okay. But predictably, again, you just said that you were fine. And the morning was so hectic that she didn’t really have the time to interrogate you.

Once you all got settled and to the track for media day, work mode took over, and you forgot all about the tension at the Piastri family home. Though you quite literally were paid to follow Oscar around all day, you felt more like the paparazzi than his friend, hardly ever speaking to him.

And as you went back to the hotel room alone to edit and post for tonight, you felt like a stranger in your own body.

You didn’t want to do this anymore. You missed your friend, but more importantly, you missed being yourself.

But what were you supposed to do? You loved Oscar. Oscar loved Lily. Lily hated you.

You were stuck between three impossible choices: stick around and be forced to subdue yourself into a shell of your true personality until Lily decided she wasn’t upset at you anymore, lose everything you’d ever built by quitting and moving away like you knew she wanted, or continue being yourself and possibly cost Oscar the love of his life.

Yeah, this was a wonderful predicament you found yourself in, through no fault of your own.

You moved like a zombie through the free practices and qualifying. When it was finally time for the grand prix, you assumed your usual place in the McLaren garage, for work if nothing else.

But then, Oscar won.

No team rules. No convoluted strategies. Just Oscar doing what he did best.

You couldn’t hear your own thoughts over the shout of the garage and the crowd in the distance, cheering out for their hometown hero. You ran out with everyone to the barricades to greet your best friend.

Though he still had his helmet on, you could see the effects of his smile in his squinted eyes. He pumped his fist in the air, cheering to himself before running to the barricades to jump into the waiting arms of the crowd. You cheered with them, overwhelmed with pride.

Oscar locked eyes with you, cupping your face with his gloved hands and pressing the top of his helmet to your forehead. “I did it, YN!”

“You did!” you yelled, smiling ear to ear.

Of course, people took photos. Photos that Oscar posted later that night.

Lily didn’t like it—the sweet intimacy of the moment, front and center on Oscar’s Instagram page. Why would you post that? It was like you were taunting her.

Lily sat on the edge of the hotel bed while Oscar showered, both of them preparing to meet you, Lando, and a few McLaren team members to celebrate his win.

When Oscar emerged from the bathroom, Lily asked him, “Osc, can you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” he murmured as he dried his hair.

“Can you take down that picture that YN posted?”

“YN posted something?” he questioned, grabbing his phone. As his social media manager, you had access to all his accounts, but occasionally he’d post something himself, too. “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

Lily pursed her lips. “The first picture from the post she made an hour ago.”

“Oh, this?” Oscar held up his phone. “I posted that.”

Lily was silent.

“Why do you want me to delete it? It’s a good photo.”

Lily just looked at him. Oscar sighed and archived the photo. “There, happy?”

His tone was much harsher than he intended, but to be honest, he was getting tired of the constant fighting, and his patience was wearing thin.

Lily kept quiet, just silently going into the bathroom to start doing her makeup.

In the lobby of the hotel an hour or so later, you awkwardly stood with Lando waiting for the couple to arrive. Once again you were torn—should you miss out on celebrating with your best friend on his first ever home win, or should you go and strain his relationship further?

You were just going to say screw it and go back up to your room when you saw Lily and Oscar walking towards you. Though there was no tension between them, there was no love either. They both just looked…tired.

Everyone had decided to keep it relaxed for tonight, just doing a nice group dinner with Oscar’s family. It was fine, albeit a tad awkward, because you were sitting between Lando and some McLaren employees you didn’t know, at the opposite end of the table from Lily, Oscar, and his family.

You knew this couldn’t continue forever. Something had to break. And it did, when you and Lando ended up back in Oscar and Lily’s room, drinking your way through a bottle of nice champagne.

The alcohol seemed to have calmed Lando’s nerves, as he was actually normal with you. And Oscar was a blushy, smiling mess and he and his teammate laughed at something you couldn’t remember.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the mood was ruined by Lily’s drunken slurring. “Oh my God, YN, just shut up! Go away!” she giggled and grabbed Oscar’s arm.

Usually, you were calm, letting any infraction roll off of you like waves on the beach. But the alcohol emboldened you.

“Lily, what the fuck is your problem with me?” you asked.

The mood shifted, and Lily gave you a look of disgust. “I was just joking, God.”

“No you weren’t.”

Lando chimed in. “Well, I think I gotta call it a night.” He got up and patted Oscar on the back. The two men stood up to walk out, leaving just you and Lily alone in the hotel room.

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is with me, but don’t act like there isn’t one. It’s obvious that you don’t want me around, I don’t know what I ever did to you.”

Lily had clearly been sobered up by your seriousness. Still, she burst into tears.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.”

You sighed, unable to keep your anger in the face of her cries. She continued, “I just… Oscar and I were each other’s first everything. First love, first kiss…first time. I love him so much.”

“I’m not trying to steal him from you.”

Lily was quiet, and so were you. Something she had said gave you pause.

They were each other’s first everything—no, that couldn’t be true.

Because you were Oscar’s first.

It had been many years—you were both 18—and you had never spoken about what happened. But you remembered.

He came back home for Christmas from the UK. It was before he had even met Lily.

You welcomed him home with an embrace—even with the frequent phone calls you had, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, now here before you, in the flesh.

Neither of you could sleep that night, and somehow you both found yourself in Oscar’s childhood bedroom, quiet in the early hours of the morning.

Though it was warm outside, Nicole had a habit of keeping the house frigid, so you and Oscar huddled together under the handmade quilt that decorated his bed. The moment was tender and quiet, together in the soft darkness.

“Do you like it in the UK?” you asked him, your question searching for a genuine answer.

“It’s okay, I guess. It’s what I have to do for the races.”

“But do you ever get…lonely?”

He paused. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

You traced small circles on the skin of your leg. The closeness of the moment was uncomfortable.

“But you have friends, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re not, y’know, friends for life.”

“I get you.” You really did, not having many friends of your own since Oscar left. “But you must have a ton of girls, though. They all want the cool race car driver.” You smiled, trying to use your humor to lighten the intimacy of the moment.

“No,” was all he answered. “And if I had a girlfriend, you’d be the first to know, anyway.” In the dark of the room, you could only see the outline of his features, but you could feel the pull of his eyes looking at you. “What, do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re bringing this up?” he asked.

“Of course I don’t.”

“What do you mean, of course?”

“I mean, why would I have a boyfriend? I have no friends and half the people at school think you don’t even exist.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Well, yeah, when I say my best friend drives race cars in the UK, most people think I’m making you up.”

“Shit,” he laughed.

“So, yeah, it doesn’t exactly get me dates,” you laughed. You felt your throat stiffen. “I haven’t even had my first kiss or anything.”

The silence in the room was thick. “I haven’t either,” Oscar confessed.

You found it hard to believe. Oscar was handsome, funny, everything a girl could want. Neither of you had ever been social butterflies, though.

Under the blanket, Oscar reached for your hand, placing it in his. Your heart was beating out of your chest; you had never even held a boy’s hand.

“We could just…do it now,” he said. “Just to get it over with.” He feigned his usual nonchalance, but you could feel the increase of his heartbeat and the ever so subtle tremble in his voice.

It would be easy for you to laugh it off like a joke. But you knew it wasn’t. And you wanted him.

“Okay,” you said, your voice breathy with nervousness.

You sat up on the bed, and saw the dark outline of his figure leaning towards you, gently tilting your head.

And when his lips met yours, it felt like home. Like everything in your entire life had left you up to this moment, here in the warmth of your best friend’s childhood bedroom.

The kiss lasted longer than you anticipated, but when he did pull away, it was too soon. You were grateful for the darkness that hid your expression. But even without the light, Oscar could see the truth behind your eyes.

“We could…keep going.”

“Okay,” you repeated.

One of his hands found your waist now, pulling you closer, as his other hand pushed back your hair that had fallen in your face.

Once again his lips met yours. It wasn’t like a spark within you—more like a calming, a sense of peace and safety. Of all the boys you’d crushed on before, Oscar was different. You trusted him with everything.

And you showed him so.

He slipped his tongue past your teeth, tentative, as if he was scared to do the wrong thing. But you let him close the gap, your own tongue gliding along his, goosebumps going down your back the closer you got.

He wanted to put his hands all over you, but he was nervous.

He pulled away. “I…don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t either. Is it actually your first time?”

“Yeah. You don’t mind me being your first?”

“I trust you.”

So you both took it slow, taking each other’s hands where you wanted to be touched, not focusing on anything but the other.

The love you made was quiet and simple, beautiful yet imperfect. But you didn’t need perfect. You just needed him.

The next morning, you slipped out of his room before anyone was awake, afraid of what would happen if they found out.

But no one ever did. Oscar never said a word about it ever again, and neither did you; after the holidays, he went back to school and met Lily, and the rest was history.

But you remembered. And as you sat in that hotel room years later waiting for him, you felt numb.

By the time he got back Lily had calmed down, but you couldn’t stand to be there anymore. You announced your departure, but Oscar decided to walk you out, too.

You closed the door behind you, but Oscar pulled you to not leave so quickly.

“Hey, is everything alright with you and Lily?”

“No. It’s not.”

He sighed. “I don’t know why she’s being like this.”

You just stared at him, your face blank.

“What,” he asked, “don’t tell me you’re mad too.”

“Was Lily your first?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

Oscar looked over his shoulder. “I’d really rather not talk about this in the hallway…”

“So do you want to go in the room and talk about it? In front of her? Because you lied to one of us. Which one was it?”

“YN, it’s—”

“Which one of us did you lie to, Oscar?”

He let out a sharp exhale, knowing there was no way to escape your line of questioning. He leaned down to whisper to you. “I didn’t lie to her. She just…assumed, and I never corrected her.”

“That’s still lying.”

“You really think I should go in there and tell her the truth?” His voice dripped with frustration.

“Yes. She deserves to know.”

“You know why I never told her? Because I knew this shit would happen, she’d get jealous and try to push you out of my life. If I tell her now, she’ll make me choose between the two of you.”

“Do you blame her?” you asked, astounded at how Oscar could be so clueless.

“Seriously?” he retorted. “You think she’s justified in doing all this to you? The entire reason she’s mad is because she knows if she tries to make me choose, I’m not choosing her.”

“Don’t say that! Oscar, she’s your girlfriend. You should love her.”

“I do. But things just…aren’t the same anymore. It’s like she wants me to change my whole life for her. I can’t do that.”

Unbeknownst to you, Lily got up from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear to it, where she could faintly hear you and Oscar arguing.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Oscar continued. “And if you don’t want her to split us up, just let me handle it.”

“Oscar, she deserves better than this. I’ve missed spending time with you, but… you’ve got to tell her the truth.”

Lily opened the door. “I knew it,” she said, her eyes full of tears. “I knew you were cheating.”

Your eyes were wide as dinner plates as Oscar cursed to himself. “Lily, I swear to God that is not what happened—”

“Don’t. Don’t even try,” she said, but Oscar pushed his way back into the room anyway. He looked back to you, and even without words, you knew it was time to go. You needed some sleep.

Unfortunately, Oscar would not be getting any sleep tonight.

“Oscar, just stop lying to me! I’m tired of this!’ Lily cried, curling her legs to her chest as she sat on the bed.

“Lily, I swear, I have never cheated on you. What YN and I were talking about was something from a long time ago.”

“We’ve been together for five years!”

“Can I just explain myself? Please?”

Lily just broke down in sobs. “Do whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

Oscar sighed. “Look, I…I have lied to you. You weren’t my first. YN was.” He looked at his girlfriend, who was still just silently crying. “It was before we even met, and it was just once, and we’ve never done anything since. I would never cheat on you, I love you and—”

“When and where was it?” Lily asked, cutting him off with her statement more like a command than a question.

“The December before we met, when I came home for Christmas.”

“In your bed?”

He nodded.

“Oscar, I slept in that bed next to you the other night.”

He said nothing.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Haven’t I been good to you?”

“Lily, I promise, I love you more than anything.”

“Then why would you lie to me for five years?”

Oscar took a deep breath and said, “Because I was afraid you would be upset. People don’t understand that me and YN are just friends. I mean, we were raised together, she’s like my sister.”

“You had sex with her. You took each other’s virginity.”

“It wasn’t…like that.”

“How can it not be like that? Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

About an hour after you left, you heard a knock on your hotel room door, and you answered. It was, of course, Lily.

“Tell me whatever Oscar wouldn’t,” she said. Her eyes were still puffy and red.

You welcomed her in, beginning to tell her the entire truth. “Oscar and I had sex when we were 18, before he met you. We never talked about it afterwards. After you met I didn’t want to bring it up, I just assumed he’d do the right thing and tell you. I didn’t want to pry into your relationship.”

So, your stories matched. And Lily knew that you were nothing if not honest.

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend.”

“No, I mean, are you in love with him?”

You didn’t answer immediately. What were you supposed to say?

Tears fought their way to the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I don’t know,” you began, but that was a lie, you did know. “I guess…I have a special type of love for him. We grew up together. When we were younger, yes, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But then he met you, and… Lily, he was so happy! I just…I realized that I wanted him to be happy more than I wanted him to be mine. So I made peace with the fact that this is how it had to be.”

Lily was overwhelmed with your honesty, in the face of so much deception.

You continued, “I don’t blame you for being upset at me. Oscar should have been honest about what our friendship was like from the very beginning instead of lying to you. But I swear, we haven’t done anything while you all have been together. I’ve been cheated on and I know how much that hurts, I would never do that to anyone else. I’m so sorry it ended up like this.”

“No,” Lily said, “You’re the only one who’s been honest with me throughout all of this. Thank you.”

After that, you hadn’t heard from Oscar after that for a long time. Or, at least, a few weeks felt like a long time to you. But you had other pressing matters—your workload was through the roof with Oscar’s wins. Lando had snatched himself a win too, setting up an early battle for the championship. It was too early into the season to call it, but you knew Oscar was feeling the pressure with the possibility of his first championship dangling so close in front of him. So you kept your distance, not wanting to be a distraction.

That was, until he called you, saying just those three painful words.

“Lily left me.”

The sun was cresting over the horizon, illuminating the thick glass of your balcony and flooding light into your living room. You hadn’t gotten an ounce of rest.

From your bedroom, you could hear Oscar snoring. You just let him sleep.

God knows you both needed it.

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chaptersleftunwritten · 6 months ago

Text

Bite my lip just for the taste

nonnie request here

Blurb: Eddie isn’t only good with his hands. He worships the ground you gracefully walk on and he is determined to satisfy you in every way that he can. Your pleasure is his pleasure and thanks to your mutual friend Steve, he might just have a chance to give you what you deserve.

Pairing: Older!Mechanic!Eddie x Reader

Warnings: 18+, lust at first sight, rough!dom!Eddie (careful what you wish for, right?), oral (m receiving), p in v sex, sloppy kisses, naked bodies and underwear description, reader referred to as girl, pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), alcohol, characters are of ages 25+ and 30+

divider by @cafekitsune

Not only was Eddie Munson phenomenal with his hands when it came to mending cars and tinkering around with bolts and nuts… but he knew a trick or two with his strong muscular tongue and his long skilled fingers; and they weren’t associated with playing guitar or singing a epic chorus.

Eddie knew how to fuck— and he was fucking great at it.

But he couldn’t just come out straight with it and tell you that— he had to ease into it. It was like a dark lustrous dance of longing and need and he didn’t mind if he were in it for the long run.

Eddie wanted you but he knew that perfection took time.

It all began on a sweltering summers day. The metal head was very well educated on how car batteries and engines reacted to intense heat— but no amount of study could have prepared him for the way your car trundled into his garage.

Wiping the sweat from his thick brow he watched how you swung open the door with a tired groan and a chesty grumble. Full of merciless rage as you rattled your hands against the metal plating of the evidently old vehicle. Swearing like a sailor on a sinking ship, “Piece of shit!! I hope they crush you!”

Eddie couldn’t control the way his jaw nearly hit the dusty courtyard floor as your heeled foot struck against the cars front tire multiple times. Your rage wasn’t what surprised Eddie— he was accustomed to watching customers let out their pent up rage onto their dying automobiles. But what stunned him was you. You presented yourself in a way that made Eddie question why you decided to bring your car all the way down to this side of town when you clearly could afford to go elsewhere.

Not to toot his own horn, but Eddie was one of the best mechanics this town had to offer. However, he did hold a reputation that much of the community did not agree with. He had a look that made people uncomfortable— that made them run away.

But not you.

You charged toward him fiercely and determined. You made Eddie shrink in his boots.

“Hi, I’m looking for Eddie? Eddie Munson? I’m told this is his place.” Your sugar coated tongue had Eddie’s mind reeling. The contrast of your actions and your personality made him want to laugh aloud— but he managed to keep his humour to himself. For now. You hoop your keys around your index finger, swirling the metal so they would clank and chime against one another.

“You’re looking at him, princess,” He wipes his large oil covered hands against the dark denim of his jeans, toying with the chunky silver rings that graced his fingers as he drank you in further— having a better view of you now, “How can I help?” He briefly glances over to your car, his two front teeth puncturing his bottom lip as he recalls the way you were attacking it just moments earlier.

“My friend Steve said if anyone can fix this hunk of shit then it would be you.” You offer Eddie a tight lipped smile, your hands resting comfortably on your hips as you also gaze back over at the rust bucket your father gifted you 4 years prior, “She isn’t much to look at, but she meant a lot to my old man so… I sort of have to keep her around, Y’know?” You roll your eyes comically and Eddie hums in acknowledgment, crossing his heavily tattooed arms over his plump chest that is clad in a tarnish white tank top.

“I get it.” He grins and winks at you, walking over to where you had abandoned your prized possession, “I hope Harrington put a good word in for me, his car would’ve been scrapped last year if it weren’t for my talent.”

“He said you were the best… alongside some other things that I best not mention if you wanna keep your friendship with him on good terms.”

Eddie laughs as he leans against the bonnet of your car, his wandering eyes flickering from your skirt that is stretched across the fullness of your thighs and up to your face and all over again. He couldn’t seem to pull his attention away from you.

“It’s unlocked, if you’d like to have a look inside.” You gesture toward the hood of the car which the metal head is leisurely draped on and Eddie’s cheeks warm at the inkling that he was caught gawking at you.

“Yeah, I’ll pop it open. It might just be the heat…”

It was now your turn to rake your eyes over Eddie’s frame as he peers into the organs of your nearly dead vehicle. He was only older than you by a couple of years and yet he seemed much more experienced in life than you did. The tattoos against his pale skin had you nibbling on the plush flesh of your bottom lip. His jeans hung loosely on his hips, held up by a studded black leather belt and above the hem you could see the waistband of his boxer briefs peering out at you.

One thing Steve had failed to mention to you before your arrival was how smoking hot Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was. If you had known sooner, you would’ve dressed up a bit more— maybe you would’ve gotten changed out of your PA office attire.

But still, your tight fitted blouse and shiny black heels would just have to suffice.

“What are you doing right now?” Boldly you move around to meet Eddie’s line of vision. His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion and he flicks his fingers toward the open hood of the car, “No, I mean, after this. What are you doing? Do you.. have plans? Maybe going home to a girlfriend, perhaps?” You weren’t very subtle, but screw it! You saw the hunger in his eyes when you first showed up— he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him and you hadn’t been taken care of in a long time.

You were needy. Desperate. And Eddie may as well have been served up to you on a silver platter!

“Plans? Oh uh… no. Not at all. I uh… I was going to go home and have some shitty wine,” His pink lips perk up into a toothy smile, a knowing smile, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress your own, “Does that maybe interest you? You don’t seem like a shitty wine girl.”

You shrug your shoulders and a transparent smugness settles deep into the apples of your cheeks, “I like shitty wine.”

“The good thing about being your own boss is that you can finish whenever you want.” He slaps the bonnet of the car shut and dusts his large hands against one another, “How about I look at this tomorrow and we can take my car back to mine? Or would you like to check out my ass for a bit longer?” He slyly winks at you and your face tilts toward the ground as you make a feeble attempt to conceal the blazing fire that was torturing your skin.

“Hmmm that depends— can you guarantee that you’re not some psycho and that I won’t end up on the front page of the paper tomorrow?” For someone whose body may as well be a ferness with how hot it is, you sure are making Eddie work for what you both want. Something about him made you brave, but it also made you… timid. Quiet… obedient.

And boy oh boy, Eddie was enjoying every second of the power he had over you.

“How about I let you drive? You have the keys… you have the control.” His husky voice drops an octave as he takes a few steady strides toward you. His gaze penetrates yours and his dangerous eyes have an addictive allure. Captivating and intimidating. Revealing little but knowing much… it was exciting. He excites you.

“That could work…” your voice betrays your facade of confidence and Eddie grins wider at the soft falter in your tone. He could read you like a book. Your inviting body language, the blown darkness in the centre of your glossy eyes and the way you don’t back away from him as he stalks even closer to you. You were his prey… and he was the hunter set on a target.

One of Eddie’s rough calloused hands gently takes yours. He positions your palm flat out toward the sky so he could drop his keys onto it all while his focus on your face remains unwavering, “The keys to the castle.”

“Fitting, since you called me a princess earlier.”

“Maybe I orchestrated this from the beginning?” An entertained eyebrow perks up behind his stringy damp bangs.

“Is that so?” The sound of your hushed voice echoes back at you and your lips part longingly at Eddie’s close proximity. He is close enough to kiss— tasty enough to devour. A banquet of all of the most desirable and finer things in life.

“I saw you in those heels and with those legs… I couldn’t resist. They don’t call me a Eddie the freak Munson for no reason, princess.” There is a clip to his voice, a new intensity piercing through his words like a pin to a voodoo doll.

“You might just have to show me how freaky you really are then, Mr. freak…”

Eddie was right. The wine did taste like shit.

You were currently draped across Eddie’s large sofa, the soft suede fabric welcomed the mould of your body as you sunk into airy cushions and you sipped hesitantly from your stemmed glass. Smearing your dark lipstick across the pristine rim as you did.

Eddie was perched on a chair across from you which was cut from the same material as the couch. His feet were planted to the floor and his legs were spread wide; like a King on his throne. There was a coffee table separating the two of you and part of you questioned why he was so far away.

You and Eddie locked eyes, a welcoming and long stare. It was comfortable, patient but growing. Neither of you looked away, but none of you made the first move, either.

Eddie was assessing you. He was trying to figure out how this would go. How it would play out. Who was going to be the dominant one and who was going to submit?

You wanted it to be him. You wanted him to know that you needed your decisions made for you tonight.

You bring your glass of wine back to your mouth, taking a small drink and proceeding to lick and bite your lip afterwards. An unspoken invitation that Eddie silently accepts.

The warm light that glows from the table lamp next to you illuminates Eddie in a gorgeous orange hue, darkening his tattoos and brightening the metal around his fingers and his neck. You envision how he would look above you— glistening in sweat with his necklace shimmering as it dangles atop of your face. The image nearly causes you to whine aloud.

Nearly.

You surveyed your surroundings, “This is a nice place you have— very cozy.” You place your wine glass on a coaster, coming back to snuggle into the pillows of the sofa and Eddie hums, pleased.

“It’s no bachelor pad but it’s home.” He tilts his nearly empty glass toward you and a mischievous smile toys with the edges of his lips, “Thank you.”

He finishes his drink with one swift movement before he is leaving his post from across from you. You watch him with blown eyes, eyes that are bright and eager. He settles his lean and sturdy physique against the door frame that leads into his kitchen space.

Your heart rate quickens with anticipation and your hips squirm beneath you as you try and remain confident under his abysmal and sinful demeanour.

You were overly aware of the lewd events hurtling toward you and the excitement of it causes your face to flush with colour.

“I’ve never fucked a girl in heels before… I think you should keep them on.” He prowls toward you, his body language animalistic and focused.

He’s been wanting to pounce on you from the moment you stepped foot through the door— but Eddie is a gentleman and gentlemen take their time.

Eddie was in front of you now. His eyes such a deep shade of chocolate brown that they seemed to swallow the light rather than reflect it. They were adorned by long dark eyelashes that you were envious of and strong clean eyebrows that framed the chiselled structure of his face. He looked like a painting. Like he wasn’t real.

“I… I can keep them on.” Your face tilts toward your feet as you try to remind yourself of the appearance of the shoes that you chose to wear that day however Eddie is quick to tensely grab you by the flesh of your cheeks and snatch your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me.” His voice is a hushed purr as his nose teeters on the edge of brushing yours, “I wanna see your pretty face.”

His grip remains tight and it forces your lips into a cute pout which Eddie coos at, “I wanna kiss you. Is that okay?” You nod your head feverishly. Without wasting a single second your lips finally met, tinged with impatience. His lips were magnificent, full and defined and soft. His tongue tastes of alcohol and mint and you moan at the contact of his wet tongue wrestling against yours. His teeth nip at your bottom lip and your eyes are lidded as your fingers touch the exposed skin of his shoulders with a feathery graze; causing goosebumps to arise on Eddie’s inked skin.

“I need to know that you want this…” He breathes heavy laboured breaths, “That you want me to take control. I like it rough, baby, so we need to have a safe word… okay? Safe word is Cherries. You got that?” His domineering mask slips for a quarter of a moment as his black hues sweeten. You nod again, your mind clouded with lust and desperation.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“Cherries is the safe word.”

“Clever girl.” Without a beat Eddie is dragging you up and onto your feet. You are wobbly on your legs for a moment but you are fast to regain composure. As Eddie goes to lead you through to his bedroom you stop, your body set alight.

“Eddie can I… can I taste you first?” You are a blushing mess as the words drool from your lips. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it since you seen him man spreading in front of you in his armchair earlier. You wanted to dip down between his thighs and make his cock twitch with need, “Please.”

The metal head looked bewildered for a moment however he quickly welcomed the request. How could he possibly deny such a sweet girl when she asked him so politely?

He walks the both of you over to the comfortable chair, sitting himself down and allowing his hands to have free roam of your ass and hips, “Ask me as nicely as that and I’d give you anything you want, princess.” The pet name was now tainted with naughty intention as it rolled off of his slick tongue and your knees weaken at the sight of him gazing up at you.

It was nice to be able to study a man features without any shame or embarrassment. You were so used to stealing glances at attractive men but the visual feast sitting in front of you was enjoyed without any guilt.

You offer Eddie an intoxicated smile as his eyes venture over your face, your neck, your breasts and your exposed legs. You weren’t worried about the way your body looked— there was something so calming about Eddie that struck a match of confidence within you and he seemed to like what he was looking at.

“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” He rips down your skirt from around your waist, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you stood in the pile of bunched fabric. His hands work quickly on your blouse and Eddie growls at the sight of you. Nothing to you but your matching lace underwear set and your heels.

Your nipples peak at the change of temperature in the room and the sly man pinches them with the tips of his slender fingers, rolling the buds mercilessly and smirking devilishly as he does. The action causes a soft whine to emit from your throat and Eddie’s lips perk into a grin at the sound. He was obsessed with you.

“Kneel.”

And you do. The bones of your knees meet the floor with a pathetic thud and Eddie smooths the palm of his hand across the softness of your hair; enticing you that he will be gentle at first but he yanks the strands seconds later, causing you to yelp.

“Open up. I wanna see if I’ll fit.”

Bracing yourself with your hands on his jean clad knees you unhinge your jaw, opening wide as Eddie slots two of his fingers onto your tongue and they slide deep in the crevasse of your mouth. They tickle the back of your throat and your thighs clench together at the thought of him fucking of your face.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I’m sure you can handle it. Right, hon?”

“Yes. I can take it. Please…” You babble around his digits.

There you are again with your manners and your begging bambi eyes. It awakens something within Eddie— something that had been sitting dormant but has now stirred from its slumber. A darkness. A line he had never crossed but he was so close to it now. He wanted to own you. He wanted you to belong to him… to be his and only his.

“Go on then, baby. He’s waiting.” He winks at you and your adrenaline shaken hands find the zipper of his jeans. Eddie’s thick bulge strains against the stiff denim and you chew on your bottom lip furiously as his long and full shaft springs from his boxer briefs.

Your mouth salivates at the sight and you look to him for permission, which Eddie gives, before you are popping his throbbing tip into the hot cave of your mouth. A vibration travels down Eddie’s cock and reaches his balls as you moan around him. He felt so good— so natural to have him in your mouth. Like sucking on your favourite treat.

“Fuck— that feels so good.” Dark curls spill onto the back cushion of the chair and Eddie’s hands fist your hair into a ponytail, guiding your slobbering mouth up and down the length of his aching cock.

Your mind was blank of anything except for Eddie’s body and the way he felt inside of you. He hadn’t even penetrated you yet and your panties were dampening with slick more and more with every passing bob of your head.

“Shit—“ Eddie seethes through clenched teeth, his hips rocking up to meet your sloppy movements and he punctuates each thrust with a rewarding moan. “I need to feel you.” It was abrupt, the way he ripped your mouth away from him— but you understood. You needed to feel him too. You hadn’t felt this desperate for anyone before; this sultry and seductive. This needy and submissive. You didn’t want this night to end.

You cant contain the soft pants that leave your throat, a mixture of excitement and arousal as you climbed onto straddle Eddie’s thighs. His body felt hard and masculine beneath your touch and you shivered at the way he laid a harsh spank to the meaty flesh of your ass.

“As innocent as you look, you really are just a dirty little slut, huh?” He slaps you again, this time harder than the last and you nearly collapse against his chest. Eddie laughs mockingly, forcing you to sit upright as his fingers plunge down into the soaking fabric of your panties.

You gasp, your already primed body becoming slippier as his fingers thrust softly into you— testing the waters.

“Such a wet pussy, all for me…” His fingers twitch inside of you and you release a sound which can only be described as a moan combined with a helpless whine. With his free hand Eddie rips your breasts from the confines of your bra, allowing the skin to spill free.

His tongue bathed your breast while he used his teeth, giving you peppered bites that shot pleasure through your body like a lightning bolt. He drew your coiled nipple into his mouth and he let his teeth roughly drag over the tip. You moaned loudly. He leaves your breast and looks up into your face.

“Tell me how badly you want my cock.” His voice is a clipped and cool demand.

“I want you to fill me up so bad. I need it, Eddie. Please… fuck, I want it more than anything.” Your hips grind against his fingers and your words must’ve struck Eddie in a pleasant way because before your brain has any time to catch up to his ever changing movements, his fingers are pulling your panties off to one side and his cock is teasing and toying with your dripping hole.

The eye contact between the pair of you was intense as Eddie’s entire length slowly slid inside of you. Your breathing catches in your throat at the stretch of him. Before long, Eddie settles inside of you and your eyes remain shackled to one another. Sex with a stranger shouldn’t be this intimate— so you screw your eyes shut.

Big mistake.

“Open your fucking eyes,” He snarls, his hand grabbing your throat harshly as he pulls your body down toward his, “I want you to watch me as I fuck you.” Your eyelids snap open and Eddie’s features are slack but intimidating as he looks at you. The feeling of being brutally and totally full was almost too much for you to stand. Too much for you to handle. He pulls back from you and begins to thrust.

“Wait—“ You plead and your hands find Eddie’s chest as you support yourself on top of him, “I just need a moment to adjust… you’re so big.” You squirm at the pulsing of your walls around Eddie’s shaft and he grins egotistically up at you.

“Perfect thing to say.”

He repositions his grip onto the back of your thighs, slowly readjusting himself beneath you and easing himself in and out.

“Okay,” you breathe with a soft nod, “You can fuck me now.”

Eddie sensed that your body was ready for his size and he then started to brutishly slam his body into yours. Unbelievably erotic sounds hit your ears as you feel and hear his hips slapping against yours. Sticky skin meeting sticky skin.

“Feels like someone is fisting my dick.”

“Wettest little pussy I’ve ever fucked, yknow that?”

“Shit, I could cum from just the sight of you.”

“Listen to that, baby. You hear how much your pussy is loving my cock?”

“Keep those stunning fucking eyes on me.”

Eddie’s deep grunts and moans mixed with his dirty commentary only heightened the erotica. You’re gentle to take his hand into yours, timidly welcoming two of his fingers back into your mouth as you bound up and down to meet the crack of his hips against yours. Eddie’s eyes gloss over from the view of you above him and his thrusts get snappier and more intentional. Harsher. Quicker. Deeper.

As his cock fucks your sweet hole, his fingers are busy fucking your mouth as well. He took note of how much you liked to have him in your mouth— no matter what part of his body that may be. Eddie got an inkling that this would be the first of many nights together. And he wasn’t mad at the idea— he was actually thrilled by it. It spurred him on.

“Rub your clit for me, sweet girl.” It was as if you were in a trance and the only thing you were able to do was obey Eddie’s every beckon and call. Your finger tips find your sensitive bundle of nerves and you sigh out in complete bliss at the euphoria that shocks up every vertebrae of your spine.

“That’s it, baby. I want you to cum so fucking hard. I’m getting so close— want you to cream all over my cock.”

The speed in which your fingers circled your clit increases and your eyes fight to stay open. You could feel the desperation punctuated in every one of Eddie’s quickened thrusts and you feel that familiar build coming to build in your tummy.

“Fuck— I’m gonna cum. Keep rubbing that clit, baby. You’re being such a good girl for me.” His tired pants fill the air and your mind whizzes and bubbles as you whine out loudly.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, of fuck!” Your mouth gapes open wide, mirroring the sweaty sex symbol below you and your eyes widen as your orgasm floods your every cell. Shaking your body from head to toe. You feel Eddie’s cock swell inside of you— causing your high to continue

“Shit!!” A yell breaks past Eddie’s swollen lips as his orgasm hits. You watch as his face contours as he cums inside of you. His eyes squint shut and his mouth is pulled into a grimace. The veins on his forearms bulk and tense. It was the sexiest thing you had ever fucking seen.

Your heart paced rabidly in your chest as you both breathed heavily, trying to control the heaving of your chests as you both came down. You’re relying on Eddie’s body to keep you from collapsing and Eddie is wise to this. His strong arms wrap around your body as he pulls himself out of you, bringing you to rest on his chest.

Too tired and sated to do anything else, you press yourself against Eddie’s bare and empty sack, grinding lightly down onto the tender flesh of his balls and the noise that leaves Eddie’s throat is indescribable.

You shoot up to look at him and it’s now your turn to smirk and it’s Eddie’s turn to flush a shade of bright red.

“Ignore that.” He coughs to clear his oesophagus, followed by a light hearted chuckle as you come to lay back against his limp body and a knowingness fills your mind.

This wasn’t just going to be a one night stand… and this wasn’t the last time you were going to be laying on top of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.

This was just the sweaty, sexy beginning.

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