#to push them to back the green new deal

[acoazlove]

A New Place

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Your birthday felt ruined until you met someone new.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Angst

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They forgot. They forgot that it’s your birthday.

You really couldn’t blame them considering they all have their own lives and issues to deal with, but it didn’t make it any easier.

The main problem you have isn’t really that they had forgotten your birthday, it’s actually that they had celebrated every other holiday and birthday no matter what was going on. They dropped everything for everyone. Except for you.

So to say it hurts is an understatement. The forgotten sister, as per usual. Always left behind and pushed to the side. You suppose it makes sense considering you’re the youngest of your sisters. Always pushed to the side, whether it was intended or not.

For the last three years, things had gone from bad to worse, to just about perfect for your family. But not for you, you felt like a burden. Birthdays are supposed to be special, to celebrate whose day it was. It certainly didn’t feel like it right now.

Wandering through the River House, not a single soul in sight. Everything felt too quiet. No breakfast being made, no presents—not that you expected to get any—and none of your sisters to greet even. They were who you wanted to see right now.

Instead, you make your way to the kitchen and grab an apple instead. As you were about to leave to go for a walk, you hear loud laughing coming from the front door. In walks your sisters, their mates following close behind.

As they make their way to split off from each other, you only get a few smiles and greetings. Nothing else. That’s how you know they have forgotten. So you give them a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Once they’re all out of the doorway, and not giving you a second thought, you take that as your sign to finally go for your walk. The walls now feel incredibly claustrophobic.

What you don’t notice is a certain pair of hazel eyes studying you as you tug on your coat, and pull the door open. The spymaster’s calculated gaze, noticing everything no matter how discrete you think you’re being. His shadows agitatedly circled him as you passed the threshold.

─

Dress brushing the cobblestone streets of Valaris as you stroll down and take in your surroundings, relishing in the fresh air and sunlight warming that previous coldness you felt from the negative start to the day.

Walking past shops, bakeries, and cafes. Passing an oh-so-familiar bookstore before doubling back to head into. You think that maybe browsing for an hour or so could help brighten your already tiring day. Without realising you’re already ambling your way over to the shelves.

Picking up many books, reading their synopsis, and then putting them back in their previous places, you finally find a book that interests you. Feyre’s money isn’t mine. A sour taste fills your mouth at that thought, so you decide against getting it.

Exiting the lovely bookstore with a wave to the cashier you think it might be time to make your way back to the house. Maybe you’ll be able to fix up some food once you’re back. Mindlessly dawdling you through the crowded streets, then deciding to take the long way. There’s no need to be home any earlier than needed.

Moving by stores you’d never seen or heard of before, peering in through the windows, but not daring to go in. A sign catches your eye, ‘Benny’s Bar’ read above the doorway. From the outside, it looks similar to one that you remember in the human lands, just not nearly as beat up. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, hopefully, they’re not too expensive.

You enter, not giving yourself enough time to argue, and the strong scent of alcohol quickly invades your senses. Ignoring it you meander over to the bar.

The interior is much nicer than what you see from the street, with dark wood floors, and the walls a deep shade of green. The same wood as the flooring extends up the wall behind the bar, lined with long shelves, and all kinds of liquor. The tables scattered around the room were well worn, in a charming and homey way, with mismatched chairs pushed under them. Old paintings that seem to have been passed down for generations are pinned up around the room. The lights dim but not dingy, giving the place a warm glow without being too bright.

Passing by the fae, face down on the tables, and loud groups either brainlessly arguing with one another or laughing their asses off, either way, their conversations were unintelligibly slurred. Glancing at the clock hung above the door frame, you wonder just how long they had to have been since it’s only two o’clock. A loud breath escapes you, registering that you’re joining them. Disregard that thought and slide onto a stool regardless of the depressing realisation.

You finally grant yourself a minute to have a proper look at the people working. A large, muscular, older-looking male is behind the bar pouring out drinks, while also barking orders at a couple of younger males out the back, in the kitchen. A tall, black-haired female, her face lips set in a firm line, as she saunters around the room, handing out the drinks the larger male poured. Another stocky male makes his way around the room to wipe down tables and booths, while also pushing in chairs and picking up dirty plates and empty glasses

But the fae who sticks out to you is a female with deep blue skin, and hair a darker navy shade as she walks by some large cabinets with a heavy-looking crate in her arms. Once she notices your presence, a charming smile stretches across her lips and makes her way over to you. Your lips quirk up in response.

“Hi, Love, what can I get you?” her voice has a lovely rasp to it. However, your face heats for an entirely different reason, not having any experience with taverns in general, but also not much with alcohol either.

Contemplating your answer, your hands wringing together in your lap, “What do you recommend?” your words come out softer than intended. Her smile softens slightly, and it makes you tense up, now feeling out of place. “Don’t drink much?”

Her words cause a soft huff to pass your lips. “Not really.” your shoulders slump forward, but her smile brightens once again as she heads over to the alcohol-filled shelves that line the wall behind her. Grabbing a bottle of clear liquid, and a tall glass. She takes the lid off with a pop, and pours out a small amount, slowly sliding the glass across to you. She watches you, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

You pick up the drink, lift it to your nose, and instantly recoil. The smell felt like it singed your nose hairs. A soft chuckle escapes the female's lips. “I wouldn’t recommend sniffing it,” she leans over the counter as if to tell you a secret, “It’s easier if you down it in one go.”

With a slight nod, you lift the glass to your lips, follow her advice a down it in one go. It burns your throat as it slides down, and your nose scrunches slightly in response. “Didn’t taste easier.” a snort escapes her. “Unfortunately this bar doesn’t have any of the fancy sweet drinks that others do.” Your lips curve up. “I’m Benny by the way.” The Owner. Your grin grows a little and you give her your name.

─

Hours later you’re in the same spot, conversation is flowing easily with Benny—who hasn’t left her spot behind the bar since you entered. Refill your drinks when needed. The alcohol is easier with every drink you have. The bad morning your day started with is like a distant memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see It’s now dark out.

Sloppily turning to the clock to see the time—11:30—then back to face the female in front of you, now aware of the fact that you had spent your entire birthday in a tavern, you let out a long sigh. Benny tilts her head to the side from the sound, but as she opens her mouth to speak you beat her to it.

“It’s my birthday.” you blurt out, words coming out slurred, but you brush it off and continue. “My entire family forgot. Didn’t even wish me a happy birthday before I left the house.” a small sniffle followed your words.

Benny frowns. “I know who your family is, honey,” you stiffen and she resumes. “You never know, they could have a surprise birthday waiting for you.” trying to lighten your mood at least a little bit, and it makes you straighten briefly before your shoulders curl inward once again. Not believing her words. And by the way, Benny shifts on her feet, you know she doesn’t even believe it.

“Unlikely,” you mumble. Finger swirling around the edge of your empty glass. Benny lets out a huff, tapping her fingers on the wooden bar before she turns around and grabs a different bottle from the shelf, a rich brown one. She also grabs another glass before turning back to you.

She pours a generous amount into both glasses, and rather than bringing it straight to her mouth she holds it in the air, seemingly waiting for you to do the same. So you mirror her movement. She clinks her glass with yours, “To you! Happy Birthday, Love.” Both of you finish your drinks in one go.

“Thank you, Benny.” Looking over your shoulder another sigh exits you. “I should head back now.” Turning back to her. She nods.

As you slide off your seat, swaying as you straighten your dress, readying to leave. “If you need a place to stay, I have an apartment upstairs that needs an owner.” she offers just as you are about to turn away. “I know I don't know your current situation, but a new place to stay might do you some good.” A smile tugs at your lips.

“I don’t have money to pay for it,” You reply. Yes, your sister and her mate have more money than one ever could imagine, you still couldn’t help but feel like you’d owe them if you used any more of it than just drinks you had today.

Benny dismisses your words with a wave of her hand. “Don't worry about that, I have an opening to work here.” she gestures to the bar. “If you don't, I could always help you find a different one.”

Your smile softened slightly. “Thank you, Benny,” repeating your words from earlier. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And with that, you wave her goodbye and exit the tavern. Swaying and stumbling drunkenly over the uneven cobblestone streets, as your mind churns with the thoughts that your family are most likely gathered in the living room, after sharing a lovely family dinner. They’ll probably judge you for the fact that you had a couple of drinks too many, that thought makes you feel a little queasy.

─

After a long time of manoeuvring your way through the nearly empty streets, you finally find yourself staring at the front door of the River House. Dread fills you thinking about what kind of conversation you’re about to have.

With a heavy sigh, you push the door open, stepping inside. The first thing you hear is their loud laughter. The door closes behind you louder than expected, and you grimace. The voices quiet down as you stumble your way towards the sitting room. From the doorway you see all heads turn to you. Everyone’s here. Even Lucien and Varian are seated next to their partners.

“Y/N!” Feyres's cheery voice breaks you from your thoughts. “Your back.” You step closer, her nose flares subtly, and her smile falters. But Nesta’s the one who says something. “You smell like a Tavern.” Her tone is sharp enough to make you flinch.

“I had a couple of drinks.” your reply words slurred, shrugging your shoulders drunkenly, and an uncomfortable silence follows.

“More like the whole bottle.” Mor seemingly trying to lighten the mood, her joke makes a couple of people snicker.

“We didn’t even notice you were gone.” Amren deadpans. Heads whipped in her direction at her statement, ready to scold her. “It’s true. Don’t even try to deny it.” Her voice is harsh.

Your brows pull together at the fact that no one tried to argue, and your nonchalance falters, giving way to frustration and anger at the entirety of the situation and your ruined day.

“It’s my Birthday.” your voice a near growl. Everyone’s eyes widen both at your admission and at your unusual tone of voice. Usually so soft-spoken, and gentle. The complete opposite of right now. Another disappointment.

“I was willing to chalk it up as stress from your own lives.” Your breathing ragged. “But you've been sitting here for hours and like Amren said, you didn’t even realise I was gone for something as small as a family dinner!”

Your eyes flit around the room as you continue, “Oh, and not to mention the fact that you have all taken the time to celebrate every other holiday and birthday! I guess my day isn't important enough to remember compared to the festivities that hardly even get recognized by the general public!” You practically spat your words.

Now you take a moment to look around at them. Feyre’s face is contorted in guilt, Elain looks as if she might cry, Nesta’s staring at her lap, and everyone else is either wide-eyed or unable to meet your gaze.

The lack of response further fuels your rage. The only person who looks as if they might say something is Azriel. His usually stoic features falter, but he hesitates. A look crossing his face that you couldn’t quite make out. Not wanting to linger on that any longer, you turn your gaze back to the rest of them.

You scoff. “Nothing?” Looking up at the ceiling, too many emotions are warring in you and are far too much for you to handle in your drunken state.

At the extended silence, you turn on your heel and make your way back to the entrance. No one even calls after you. That's enough for you to grasp the fact that you can't stay here. Not anymore.

The door slamming behind you, rings throughout the house. It didn’t matter as the cool nighttime air slammed into you, the lingering effects of the alcohol wearing off entirely.

Your arms wrap around yourself to keep the cold out as you amble down the streets of the City of Starlight, the stars shining above you now not bringing the same comfort as they once did. Once again you find yourself outside a familiar building. Making your way inside, Instantly finding who you unconsciously were looking for.

Benny turns towards the entrance as the door shuts, her face falls as she takes in your expression. She quickly makes her way to her, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you to a more private corner of the tavern.

“Is your offer still on the table?” Your voice is hoarse and watery. Benny gives a nod, ushering you passed the kitchen and up a set of stairs.

A new place. Already feeling more at home than with those who are supposed to care for you.

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a/n: I know there isn’t any interactions between Az and Reader yet but there will be! This didn’t come out exactly how I wanted, so I might came back to this at some point, and there might also be some spelling mistakes. The editing took longer than expected so sorry for the delay. I’ll try and get a part two out as soon as I can, hope you enjoyed. <3

taglist:

@tiredsleepyhead @blackgirlmagicforever

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

lesson in words | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

for some reason today, annabeth was not in the mood for her princess dresses or jelly shoes. she raised her voice when you were shuffling around her room, trying to find something appropriate for the aquarium. she didn’t want her sage green pants, or her lavender plaid shorts, not even her scratchy sparkling pink skirt.

“i want these!” kicking her legs in the air to indicate her unicorn pajama pants. you just sighed, not wanting to indulge her antics, “honey, those are house clothes. you sleep in those for a long time, they’re not appropriate for a day out. now, what’s our second choice?” leaning against her dresser with a fist beside your growing bump.

“unicorn! i want unicorn!” she jumped her body against her mattress, the springs creaking. a headache brewing behind your eyes, “annabeth diana reid,” you kept your voice stern and level, “if you can’t pick out day clothes then we can’t go to the aquarium. that means you can’t see the stingrays for another month.”

she pouted as she crossed her small arms over her chest, her hectic bed head another part you’ll have to deal with. “i hate you,” she said it mostly quiet, probably meant to be a whisper but doesn’t understand how that works yet.

you pursed your lips while diverting your eyes to the floor, “well i’m sorry you feel that way, but if you can’t fix your attitude and change your clothes then you can stay in your room for the day.” leaving your daughter behind as you headed to your shared bedroom where your husband was tidying the space.

he turned when you stepped on a specific creaky spot, he greeted you with a smile that dropped when you assumed he saw your upset pout and wet eyes. “what’s wrong?” quick to hurry at your side with his hands caressing your elbows.

“hormones mostly,” sniffling, “and annabeth has decided to be stubborn today and says she hates me cause i won’t allow her to wear her pjs out the house.” spilling what happen in the last five minutes as fat tears collected on your lash line, one blink and they slid down your pregnancy cheeks.

“oh honey,” spencer leaned your head into his chest, neglected nails curling into his navy polo. one of his hands slid along the back of your head to keep you hidden while his other rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades. “she doesn’t actually mean it.”

“i know i know,” you sniffled as you moved to place your ear to his heart, “just hurts having her say those words. she probably doesn’t understand the extent of its meaning.” taking a deep sigh as you gathered yourself to lean away from spencer.

“why don’t i go talk to her? try from a different perspective.” his warm palms rubbed at your upper arms as he stared softly into your wet eyes.

you sniffled, “she is a daddy’s girl. listens to you more no matter what.” chuckling wetly when spencer just shrugged. he pecked a kiss to your forehead and guided you to the made bed, telling you to rest for now as he went to talk with your four year old.

spencer knocked gentle on her cracked door, “can i come in?” both of you were making sure to teach the importance of knocking before entering a room. she almost caught the act of making her new siblings.

“yes,” she replied quietly. spencer slowly pushed open her decorated door, his head peaking in first before completely entering and closing them in.

his daughter lay in her bed, her flower comforter swallowing her. only a small lump shifting gave away her hiding spot, spencer took a seat at the foot of her twin.

he gave what felt like her calf a loving squeeze, “wanna come out and talk?” her small heel nudged into his knee, “no.” spencer could hear her pout.

“why not?” “cause i-i-i was a meanie to-to mommy,” annabeth began to hiccup through her words. spencer quickly pulled her sheets back and frowned at her rosy wet cheeks, along with a line of snot leaving her tiny nose.

“oh honey, come here.” spencer wrapped his arms behind her back as she threw hers around his neck. she crawled into his lap, her small legs stopping at his hips. “do we feel bad about our earlier emotions?” spencer rubbed a large palm in soothing circles.

“ye- yes. i-i want to see sti- stingrays, and i-i want to match with mo- my mommy.” her words a blubbering mess as she panicked over something small for the adults but other worldly for her child mind.

spencer cooed in her ear, “why don’t we go apologize first. see if she’ll accept.” he felt annabeth nod in agreement. he carried her the short distance to the master bedroom where you were laying on your back as your palms rubbed your stomach and you stared at the ceiling.

you turned your head at a small knock, your face softening at the sight before you. “someone has something to say,” spencer said as he let annabeth’s feet sit on the bed.

the young girl untangled from her father’s hold and slowly walked to sit beside you. you could hear her ragged inhales and frowned at her flushed face. “i- i- i am sorry for ye- yelling. i want to go to aquarium and you- you can help dress me, mo- mommy.” her tiny hands pulled at the helm of her sleep shirt.

you let a palm caress her warm cheek, “i was a little hurt when you said you hate me,” wanting to be truthful to your brilliant child.

her lip wobbled, “i- i didn’t mean it. i lo- love you with my whole body.” something you say to her to show your complete extent of affections. “i heard that it was an unkind word, i- i re- regret saying it.”

“i know you do, honey.” pulling her into your chest for an awkward side hug. “let’s be mindful of our words, alright? they’re very powerful.” petting down her hair, you felt her nod on your shoulder.

“are my two girls friends again?” spencer spoke up during the moment. he stayed near the edge of the room to give the both of you space.

you pressed a kiss into annabeth’s temple, “i think so. what about you bethie, do you want to wear matching overalls today?”

her eyes peeked at your through clumped lashes, “can- can we also do bows?”

you squeezed her side, “of course, bethie-boo.”

-

a/n: i took this idea from @khxna that they left on a post of mine. thank you for sharing💗

[cthulhus-curse]

Webbed Hearts

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 12,091

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Spider-Person!Reader, Doctor!Wanda Maximoff | 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: If you remember this…hi :)

All that came crashing down was red when you saw her.

Pain had crashed through your body when laying sprawled across a gurney that was wheeled into the emergency room at the Presbyterian in Lenox Hill. You clung to your side that lacked any red spandex. Humming a tender song, your eyes came to close. Although you carried immense superhuman strength, nothing could prepare you for the wave of criminals rummaging through the streets of the city with a pitch black sky and lights beaming to enlighten it.

You had been quick enough to finish off the last batch for the night. With Kingpin behind bars all you had left were trinkled men of his scouring through the island of Manhattan in search of trouble. Rather than garner a good night’s sleep for your class early the following day, you decided to go after them.

“The doctor will be right with you,” the nurse told you once she secured your side knowing the bruise upon it wouldn’t be fatal. She surveyed your hooded eyes that showed no fear. It wasn’t the first time you had been through it. After countless visits to hospitals that surrounded the city, far away from home due to anonymity, you settled for the first one you could easily swing to without having to deal with the bruised ribs of yours or hiss your way to Brooklyn.

Since high school you have tasked yourself with protecting the city. Once bit by the spider, upon losing your uncle, you knew that with the great power you held came great responsibility. Surely the remaining heroes across the world, the Avengers whose tower stood proudly in the midst of Midtown, were far too busy to take on your shroud of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Person.

The stench of lavender filled your nostrils as a peculiar redhead donning a white lab coat approached you. Her hair was made into a bun held on the back of her head by a pen, reading glasses perched on her nose as she read the clipboard in her pristine hands with perfectly manicured black nails. Albeit beautiful, you didn’t miss the bags which formed underneath seemingly tired green eyes. Sympathy was sent her way. The last thing you wished to do was keep the woman by your side longer than you had to.

“A bruised rib, huh?” Her voice was smooth as honey. Such a sound would not be easily forgotten by you. “It’s 12:34 am on a weekday. How did you manage to do that?”

“The subway?” you sheepishly shrugged.

“What, did you jump in front of the moving train or something?” When she giggled, you swore your wound had been cursed. “You know, if someone did this to you I am legally obligated to tell the police. So tell me,” her eyes flickered over the papers on the board. “Y/N, what happened to you? You seem like a healthy and fairly intelligent young woman. I doubt you did this to yourself.”

The way your name rolled off her tongue, voice thick with what you pin-pointed as a Sokovian accent, made you shudder with warmth. “It really was stupid. My friend and I were messing around at his apartment and I kinda fell off the fire escape,” you lied. “I know it sounds really weird, but I am not really the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“Oh honey this is New York. This isn’t nearly the worst or dumbest thing I’ve seen in the past hour.”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows at that.

The doctor hummed at that, leaving the clipboard by the foot of the bed to walk towards the side where your bruise kept growing. The noise from the busy ER was nowhere to be found. Instead you put all your focus on the older woman. Watching as she carefully lifted your shirt, pushing your shaking hand away, you swore your breathing ceased. Having her in such close proximity was a true pleasure.

“I had a lady come in a few minutes ago for an ear infection. She went to her doctor earlier today, was prescribed antibiotics, took a few and swung by because, as she put it, ‘I still feel like shit, doc.’ Sometimes I wonder if all those years I spent in medical school were really worth it. But then I get patients like you and I remember that helping people is why I exist,” she explained. Gentle fingers merely ghosted your skin that began showing in an angry light red hue. “Then of course there was a young man who was dared by his very intelligent friends to jump off a building and grab onto a flagpole. It’s still unclear to me if he knows about this wonderful thing called gravity.”

Laughing made the pain worse, but you couldn’t help the amused sound that came from the depths of your throat. Tears sprung from your eyes as you wondered whether they came from the stinging of your wound or the humor of it all.

The doctor made lighthearted small talk with you, telling you more of the enjoyable stories from her job to keep you from thinking about how much it all ached. There wasn’t much she could do given your pain didn’t elicit any severe symptoms upon you. All Wanda brought you was the comfort of painkillers that you knew wouldn’t have much of an effect upon your superpowered being. Well, unless you took four at once.

“So are you married or…?” The innocently asked question floated through the air forcing a smirk from your doctor who, upon further review, began filling out the paperwork for your medicine.

“Happily divorced,” she replied. There was no animosity within her words. If anything the divorce had built up since the first day they got married. “And not looking to have a mid-life crisis with someone younger than me.”

“Ouch,” you laughed it off, winking at Wanda who teasingly brushed her hand upon your bruise. “Ouch, fuck!”

“Stay still, darling.”

The redhead took her sweet time filling out the forms. Although with a frenzy of patients waiting for her until the shift ended, spending time with you was the highlight of the night she never knew she needed.

“Any kids?”

“A lovely pair of twins,” she was quick to answer, her face lighting up at the mere thought of her children. Although quite the devious youngsters cared for by their father when she took late hours of work, she loved them more than life itself.

Twins, huh? It was a lot, but you didn’t dare mind the information. “Huh, that’s cute. Fraternal or identical?”

“Why are you so insistent in asking questions? I barely know anything about you,” she tilted her head.

“Well my name is Y/N Y/L/N and you know that I have a fucked rib.” The pain of it all and exhilaration faced by being around such a beautiful specimen made you much more talkative and confident. “I’m also really good at baking brownies. You?”

“Wanda,” she mumbled. “Dr. Wanda Maximoff, quite literally at your service. Unlike you, I don’t have a cracked rib.”

Although you had only spent less than half an hour together, you desperately craved her presence more often.

///

Wanda Maximoff, how cute.

“So I met this girl.”

Sitting beside your best friend and roommate over the couch of the living room you shared, you broke the silence. The two of you had stuck to watching reruns of whatever Gordon Ramsey show you could find. You always brought up the fact that Julia Child was much better, hell even Rachel Ray, but Peter was insistent that the one true culinary god was Ramsay himself.

“Yeah?” His gaze didn’t break away from the television that she hypnotically stared at while plopping another mouthful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Well, this woman,” you were sure to correct.

That piqued his interest as he turned. The two of you were rather honest and open about who you dated, Peter having stuck by MJ’s side ever since high school as you found yourself more laid-back to the whole ordeal. Never had you gone for anyone older than a few years. “Oh?”

“She’s really pretty and I want to see her again. I mean she’s a doctor and works at the ER. We’re seeing each other again at some point given my career choice. More like a side hobby I guess.”

Peter was the first person who you told about your newfound powers back in your sophomore year of high school. He was quite surprised and unbelieving about it all, but as soon as you began crawling through the walls and ceiling before shooting webs from your very wrists, he was in awe. Only him, MJ, and your aunt knew of your not-so-secret identity.

“Wait, she's a doctor? How old is she?” He seemed worried at first, shutting off Ramsay as he yelled at yet another contestant of his show.

“Umm I’m not sure,” you shrugged, the ‘nor do I care’ going missing. “I don’t think people like being asked that. All I know is that she’s divorced and has twins! And she’s crazy pretty. I mean she had to touch me to do her doctoring job and I think that might’ve single-handedly healed me.”

“Dude you really shouldn’t go for that. She’s got a full life already with kids! You’re a superhero. What if you put them in danger?”

“Pete, I’m barely a hero, let alone super. Is it really that bad that I want to start dating around? Ever since I graduated high school I haven’t been able to do shit. Now I’m leaving college in a few months and I just…want to be happy for once. I don’t want to keep being this savior of the people for the rest of my life. Eventually I want to be with someone.”

Peter was unamused when he monotonically spoke. “With your mystery doctor who could be twice your age?”

“Yup!”

In theory it wasn’t a great idea, nor generally, but you couldn’t shake off the connection you felt with Wanda. Regardless of Peter’s ideals, you’d be sure to try and find your happiness. Lo and behold you’d regain a normal life after years of chaos.

///

With the next few months passing, you carried on about your life normally. During the day you were the average college student who breezed through the final weeks of the Fall semester, while at night you took the mantle of a spider-theme vigilante. Although rest was a commodity you weren’t keen to, keeping those across the city safe sated your need for a thrill, making them happy along the way.

Several visits back to the emergency room at the hospital Wanda worked at had proven to be rather fruitful from time to time. Although with most occasions she was nowhere to be found, the older woman who carried a fire in her eyes not having a set schedule, you were hit with a surge of joy whenever you feasted your eyes upon her – even if it meant watching from afar as another doctor tended to your wounds.

Many moments had the two of you shared silent gazes. Never did you dare stop thinking of her upon your return home. Wanda plagued your dreams as well as your waking life. And yet you couldn’t dare complain.

Another weekend in the island of Manhattan meant busy work ahead of you. Once tugging on your red and blue latex suit, you threw yourself off the window of your shared apartment with Peter, promising that you’d bring him back pizza for him to share with you for breakfast. You’d only be young once in your lifetime after all.

Swinging across the buildings in the city brought you a loving sense of freedom. The power and responsibility that came with your nightly activities was pushed to the back of your mind as you flew from skyscraper to skyscraper. No one could enjoy such an adrenaline-inducing activity quite like you. Especially not Peter who had nearly barfed all over your suit the first and last time you took him swinging around.

The night went by smoothly. Each crime you stopped gave you a high sense of fulfillment. They weren’t major, mainly petty criminals in desperate need of cash raiding stores across the island, bodegas at times in surrounding boroughs. Most nights you could take breaks at the top of a building, crack open a cold bottle of water that you had to press against your sweaty forehead upon taking off your mask, then gnawing at a grilled cheese sandwich from Mondo’s Eatery – quaint little shop in Queens frequented by one Spider-person alongside their much more normal alter ego.

All went by quickly, at least until someone that caught your eye was put in the line of danger.

You weren’t stalking her per se, you truly made yourself believe that. If anything you watched over your faithful emergency room doctor whenever you could, checking out if she got home safely each night across the island. Wanda, you found in a self-assured not-so-creepy-manner, lived by herself in a minimalistic apartment you envied. It was much bigger than your own, one that you could barely pay as it was, and grimaced for a moment at the thought of how much she spent per month to keep living there.

As she made her way across the street to reach her building, her eyes were downcast and upon her phone chatting away with the father of her children who agreed to bring the twins over the following week. Their relationship was amicable, and yet she carried disdain in secrecy at the venom she had been spewed so long ago.

When a car at full-speed made its way down the road Wanda waltzed through, all you saw was red.

“Look out!”

Swinging down the edge of a building, you threw a web across the adjacent one, aiming towards Wanda. You grabbed her swiftly mere seconds before she was to become one with the asphalt. As much as she screamed clutching her phone and staring across the city, you never once let go.

You settled for setting her down gently at the roof of her building. Knowing it was never easy for first-timers, you helped her lay on the floor, clutching your latex suit tightly as she attempted to catch her heavy breath. Being in such close proximity to her, your arm wrapped around her waist while tapping gently upon her skin, made you drool beneath your mask.

“That was a close one,” you awkwardly said, grimacing as you never knew how to break the ice after quite an event. “You should really be careful next time. New Yorkers are no joke when it comes to driving. I wouldn’t want you to be flattened by a 4x4.”

“Holy shit,” was all Wanda could muster. She turned to you, wide green eyes seemingly staring through your soul even if yours were covered. “You saved my life. I almost died and you-”

“Yeah it’s kind of my thing. Don’t worry, I do it a lot. It goes with the whole hero thing, you know?”

Wanda was able to let out a shaky laugh, although deep down you knew she still attempted to ground herself. “I don’t assume you’d like to come over for tea as a thanks. Spider…person?”

“That’s me, but no I have a rule about not fraternizing with the people I saved.” It wasn’t a lie, but for Wanda you’d always make an exception.

“Yeah? Did Tony Stark come up with that for you? Or was it the buff guy in red, white, and blue pajamas who likes destroying the city with the weird frisbee?” Wanda raised her eyebrows.

“Oh I wish. I’m not on the level of the Avengers yet. I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spider-person.”

When the redhead tilted her head as though it was her trademark move, you froze. “You are very friendly indeed. So, about that tea? I can even do coffee. It’s late and I almost died, why not make it a pizza?”

“I live and breathe pizza. It’s my favorite thing ever,” you smirked even though she couldn’t see it. Pizza. Pizza? You frowned at the familiarity of it, but upon a peculiar ringtone blasting through your phone, you cursed beneath your breath. “Oh fuck, Peter’s pizza!”

“Who?” Wanda questioned with amusement.

“Uh nothing, nevermind! You have a lovely evening miss- ma’am?” Although you wanted nothing more than to remain in place, sit down and chat further over a large pizza that you’d eat most slices from, you had a duty to the city and your friend. Waving off to the doctor, you jumped on the ledge. “See ya later doc! Try not to die!”

Wanda was taken aback. Although still stressed, she was able to pull herself off the floor and run towards the edge of the building where she watched you swing away as quick as you had appeared. Shrugging, she found it quite odd. Never had she told you she was a doctor.

///

Seeing Wanda across the city had become a daily habit of yours, an obsession as Peter put it. You had watched her from afar, intervening when required, and simply went off as though nothing had occurred. Upon your arrival at the emergency room where you saw one another differently, you began noticing a rather deliriously beautiful smile upon her features you had yet to see present.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me.”

It would typically make you jump, and yet after countless times of saving Wanda from the very same fate – nearly being run over – you weren’t sure if it still surprised you. The banter the two of you shared, the unspoken bond that had settled between both you and the hero she looked up to, was nothing you wished to rid yourself from.

“Me? Stalking you? Oh no no no!” A lie. Another faithful night at the top of her apartment building had you leaning against the ledge. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spidey. I’m obligated to save a pretty girl when she’s in trouble.”

Wanda brushed the dirt off her slacks, shaking her head with amusing disbelief. “Girl?”

“Er, woman? Sorry.”

“I’m kidding. Gosh, you’re so easy to tease.” She was much more relaxed than at the hospital, a demeanor you had seen was saved for her children. “Who knew the spider vigilante was so cute?”

You ignored the blush that set upon your cheeks, thankful that your mask was on to hide your delicious embarrassment.

“Well I have to-”

“Go. You have to go. Again.” The final part was mumbled almost solemnly. Wanda wouldn’t admit it, but she had taken quite a liking to being saved by you. “Will I ever get to see what my knight in colorful spandex looks like?”

“Uh maybe,” you shrugged. “It’s just a secret identity for a reason. It’s not like we know much about each other.” Another lie. You had spent the better part of the last few weeks chatting amicably with the older woman, exploring different aspects of your individual lives in the safety of the rooftop. As much as you wished to tell her, you didn’t wish for her to react badly. “So, see you later?”

“Yes, darling. Until the next time you save me.”

To your dismay, you didn’t get to save her again in the coming weeks.

///

Although you didn’t get to see Wanda when donning your suit, you still had your ways. Ever so often you’d meet enemies who’d take quite the crack at you, leaving you needing minor stitches or an examination from the doctor. More often than not that task was given to your favorite redhead who began working much more at night.

“Would you still think I’m cute even if I was that swinging arachnid?” You questioned one day. In your defense your confidence and boldness was fueled by the medication running through your veins as she sutured your arm. “You know, the person with the red and blue suit.”

“I never said you were cute.” Her features gave her away fully as she beamed, not even keeping her joy hidden away.

“Well you didn’t say I wasn’t cute.” Watching intently, your eyes flickered upon Wanda’s as she patched you up. The blue from the latex gloves had become a favored color of yours. “Now answer the question.”

“Considering my children are obsessed with that buffoon of a hero, then yes, I would still think you’re cute. They saved me once anyway.” Wanda paused. “Well, a few times. But who’s counting?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, darling.”

Taking a deep breath, you knew it was now or never. Talking it over with Peter had led you to believe that it was a bad, terribly thought-out idea according to your friend, but gazing at the beauty before you, you couldn’t find it to be true. Each day Wanda consumed your thoughts; each night Wanda consumed your dreams. Honesty was a first step you were willing to take, albeit risky.

“Well good thing I am them.” Your voice was shaky. The last time you had told someone about your secret identity had been years before. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Maximoff.”

Wanda shook her head and let out a howl. The mere thought, the amusing humoring, of one of her most regular patients being the Spider-person was too good to be true. “Sure, and I’m Black Widow.”

Rolling your eyes, you knew you’d have to show proof. After having looked around to make sure no one looked in your general direction, you shot a web from your bare wrists towards the small table beside you, pulling it to you with agility. Wanda wasn’t quite sure of what her eyes saw, if they deceived her, but as you shot yet another web towards the ceiling, she was left with her mouth agape.

“Y/N?”

“It’s really been awhile since we last saw each other. Well, when I was in my suit at least,” you chuckled. “So, uh, do you think it would be appropriate to ask you out now? On a date I mean. I can swing us to the top of a building or even take you somewhere. Just not too expensive because, you know, college student here. But I’d like to get to know you better if that’s alright.”

With her bewilderment still intact, Wanda involuntarily found herself nodding, deep down feeling relief that the two objects of her affection were one and the same.

///

There were a limited number of places you could take Wanda without Peter losing his mind about you spending a fortune, and yet as you left the apartment in silence, you didn’t care to tell him where you were headed. It was easier to swing there anyway, and you doubted he’d find it suspicious if you went out wearing your suit, instead arriving at Wanda’s apartment building only to change on the roof, leaving your backpack webbed to the ledge before making your way down.

You had found it difficult to move past the door that Wanda opened, smiling at you as she allowed you to feast your eyes upon the tight, black dress she donned. Suddenly it was your favorite piece of attire and color. Giving her a bouquet of flowers you had picked up along the way, you didn’t expect much, and yet the kiss placed upon one of your shining cheeks had you blushing for the entire dinner.

“So, uhm, you just shoot webs out of your wrist?”

If there was something you should know about Wanda, it was that she got right to the point. There was no hesitation within her as took a slice from the pizza she had made herself, handcrafting the dough and everything during the little spare time she had between her job and kids.

“Yup!”

“That’s…very interesting. Do you shoot them out of anywhere else?”

At the innuendo you blushed, turning away so Wanda couldn’t catch sight of your embarrassment. “No, no. It’s just the wrists. I promise I am perfectly normal otherwise. Well, except for the superhuman strength, durability, a weird healing thing, agility, the wall thingy, and the Spidey sense.”

“A what?”

“Spidey sense! I’m not sure how to explain it, but that’s just what I call it. I guess it’s like an improved gut feeling,” you explained. Unless she experienced the same as you, she lacked the depth to understand it. At least that’s what you thought until she nodded, seemingly pleased with your response. “Thanks for the pizza by the way. I didn’t peg you for a margherita kind of gal.”

“Well, I have been wanting to sit down and have dinner with my savior for ages now. The least I can do is get you something you’d enjoy.”

Hesitating to take a bite from your third slice, you stared at her. “Do you just see me as the person who saved your life or-”

“Oh gosh no, darling. To me you’re Y/N, the very interesting patient who always makes my nightmares at the ER quite enjoyable.” The warmth in her beam did not go missed. “And of course I have to take into account the fact that you enjoy throwing yourself off buildings in your spare time. It doesn’t matter what you do. I find you to be a very interesting specimen, sweetheart. And if you’ll allow me, I’d love to get to know you better.”

You settled for that response, not noticing the glint in Wanda’s eyes as she watched you look down to attempt to hide a mad flush upon your cheeks. Numerous insecurities came crashing against her at once. She was much older than you, a mother of two children, a divorcee, and most importantly a doctor who had a very demanding work schedule. Her priority was to serve others, but she mused that so was yours. Together you were quite perfect for one another.

The two of you remained seated over the dining room table, the apartment silent let alone for the voices which boomed with the other. You hadn’t felt as relaxed as you did talking to her in comparison to anyone else, not even your best friend and roommate.

“What about your kids?” You decided to ask once Wanda had brought up your family. “Twins, right?”

“Yeah, my boys,” her face lit up at the instant mention of her beloved children. “Billy and Tommy. They’re my whole world. Both are ten right now, which is a very tricky age as you know. But they’re really the sweetest kids ever. And their father he…”

You waited for an answer, but when she didn’t give you any, you pushed on. “What about him? If you want to talk about it I mean.”

“It’s fine,” she brushed it off. “It happened years ago anyway. We got divorced when the boys were two. Everyone assumes the two of us are okay and to a certain extent we are, but it wasn’t pretty. There was a lot that went on between Vis and I. I just…I haven’t allowed myself to be with anyone else since the divorce. I’m not sure how to properly date someone.”

With raised eyebrows you found yourself giggling. It took Wanda aback, of course it did, but you quickly explained your amusement. “It’s not really rocket science, Wanda. We’re just getting to know each other. We talk, we laugh, and we enjoy the other’s presence. I like you, a lot actually. Just relax, take it easy.”

“I don’t think I’ve been able to relax since I graduated high school, but I’ll try,” she snorted.

The evening was quite peaceful. For the first night ever you allowed yourself to take a break, to enjoy the little time you had with Wanda, to sit beside her on the couch and snicker as she put on her favored sitcoms – learning she adored them was a rather endearing fact you’d forever remember about the woman.

The New York City skyline would never carry the same beauty as did Wanda. Although her eyes darted out the window watching the sunset intently, yours were on her god-like appearance. You couldn’t even begin to count your stars at the mere fact of being there.

“I’ll miss you,” Wanda said when it was time for your departure. The half-eaten pizza was cleaned up by you as she stood back, your appetite gone as you focused on being beside her, stubbornly having attempted to stop you from tidying up. “But I know that duty calls. Time for you to save lives, honey.”

Never would you stop the ends of your mouth from rising at the pet names. “I’ll miss you two. I had a lot of fun tonight. I really can’t wait until we do this again.”

That night when you swung around the city, not a thought filled your head other than Wanda.

///

Each passing day you sent Wanda a new picture of yourself, not knowing she adored saving them all into a little folder on her phone meant for just you. Winter was upon you, meaning the hours she put into the work at the hospital were shared with the moments she spent rummaging through the city in search of gifts for the twins. For that entire month, she was a gift-giver, only Santa on Christmas Eve.

During her break at the hospital, she found herself searching through her phone for gifts, all while smiling at the ding of a new message from you. Opening it up, she found you wearing your trademark suit, pointing the camera over yourself as your other hand held a pole in the midst of the sky.

Wanda: Where is that?

You: Top of the Empire State Building. I should really take you here someday.

Wanda: No thank you, my little spiderling. I haven’t recovered from the first few times you took me swinging. It’s freezing out anyway. Not all of us have been bitten by radioactive spiders.

You: I’ll find the spider again and make it bite you. That way you can be Spider-girl!

Wanda: Spider-woman**

Wanda: Were you able to find the Lego sets?

Another image was sent, only this time it was the inside of your backpack which carried differing sets of Legos from Harry Potter: one was a Gryffindor themed one while the other was Ravenclaw.

You: Here they are. How come you need them so soon anyway??? Christmas isn’t for a few weeks.

Wanda: But Chanukah is next week, my darling. The twins have been begging for these. Now I just need to find a new chanukiah. Last year Tommy was running around the apartment and ended up breaking it. I can’t tell you how much that little boy cried.

You: I didn’t know you were Jewish.

Wanda: I am. This season always puts a dent in my bank account. The twins celebrate both Chanukah and Christmas from their dad’s side. It’s hell trying to not spoil them but also get them enough gifts for them to enjoy.

Wanda: Now I have to go, sweetheart. We both have lives to save. Stay safe and warm!

You: Try not to fight any patients. I know some people are dumbasses but one of us needs to have a stable job. Bye, miss you already <3

You tightened the scarf around your neck after having shoved your phone into your backpack. Wanda refused to let you carry out your vigitanlism if you simply wore your suit with nothing to keep you warm. So in her motherly mannerism, she wrapped a scarf around you, guided a beanie over your head with earmuffs, and handed you a coat. She hadn’t been quick enough to get you to wear warm layers over your legs or a sweater. The last thing you wanted was to run around the city wearing a full set of warm gear with only your mask to show off your heroic identity.

Swinging through the city knowing Wanda was there to wait for you at the end of the day, being able to drop by her apartment even if the children were around and finding time to sneak a few loving moments, made it all worth it.

///

Since you became official with Wanda, visiting at the hospital seemed to have lost its meaning. So rather than drop by the emergency room for her to stitch you up, more often than not you found yourself crawling across the walls of your girlfriend’s apartment building, sliding the window she left unlocked just for you before making your way inside to the warmth of the room.

“Wanda,” you whispered. There was no correct way to wake her up, you had found. Either way she’d scream her lungs out, still not used to seeing her partner hovering on the ceiling by a web hoping to get some medical attention. “Babe, I know you need your beauty sleep because you got a demanding job and some gremlins running around, but I could really use your help.” Even then she didn’t budge. Well, at least until you not-so-carefully shook her awake. “Wanda!”

Although ridden with fear, Wanda was adorable when she sat up immediately. Her eyes were wide, forehead coming in contact with your own covered one for a rather heavy hit. You were fine of course, but the same could not be said for the average human who rubbed her face while hissing with pain.

“Baby there is a door for a reason,” Wanda groaned, droopy eyes coming in contact with your figure. “And other doctors at the hospital.”

“Well you’re my doctor,” you mused.

“I’m also your very tired girlfriend,” she retorted. As much as she pretended to dislike being awoken in the middle of the night, Wanda beamed when eyeing you. She would forever find herself in awe with your presence. “What happened this time?”

“It’s nothing bad, just a little fall down a building.” At your words Wanda snapped her head up. “Don’t worry, doc. I’m superhuman, remember? Nothing hurts, but I wanted you to check it out just to be really sure.”

Wanda sighed, shaking her head with disbelief. She had yet to understand how your biology worked and differed from her own, but knew it was best to not ask many questions as you didn’t even know yourself. She was fascinated by the hero, but even more so by the angel that hid behind the mask and knew she’d be more worried if you didn’t say anything.

“Let’s see.” Wanda allowed her hands to run across your mask, finding the edges of it that attached to the rest of your bodysuit. She tilted her head upon meeting your eye line with raised eyebrows. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

Pulling your mask down, Wanda licked her lips. You were freezing to the touch, but she knew you didn’t feel the cold as intensely as she did. Fingertips ran across your flushed cheeks, the mask being left halfway on as she studied what she saw.

You didn’t pull back as Wanda inched forth, her lips ghosting over your own. “I missed you, little spiderling. I only wish you’d visit me other than when you need a doctor’s gift.”

Before you could dare muster a reply, her mouth crashed against your own. She kissed you hard as though you hadn’t in days, because with the winter season taking full-force, her time mostly spent working and celebrating Hanukkah with her children, you rarely got to sit down and be with one another. There was nothing normal about your relationship, but you both wished to reach for it regardless.

Holding your head in place as you remained floating from the ceiling, Wanda made out with you. The children had long resided sleeping in their beds, far too gone within Sandman’s realm to dare interrupt the delicious moment. When she slipped her tongue past your welcoming lips, you wondered if you had the willpower to stop this from growing. She was far too intoxicating, you being drunk in her, to deny her.

“There’s challah in the kitchen,” was the first thing Wanda said as she pulled back, her face sharing a similar hue to your own. “And as much as I’d like to keep going, I really want to make sure you’re not about to die on me.”

“Yeah that’s fair. Can I, uh, sit on your bed?” You questioned.

“You don’t even have to ask, sweetheart.”

Being nuzzled close by Wanda once you had shed your suit and mask away wasn’t a rare occasion. Instead you found joy in your skin being analyzed by the physician, relaxing as she ensured that no major damage resided on your body. She had stocked up on bandages, gauzes, and enough hydrogen peroxide to cure a small army for your sake. If anything, she adored the little moments she got to play doctor at home with you by her side.

When it came down to just you and her, life was peaceful for once. No longer did either of you have to worry about patients, citizens in need of help, or even children that she dearly loved. It was just you two sharing the sweet moments you’d never easily get rid of.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have anything other than bread? I kinda skipped breakfast…and lunch…and maybe even dinner,” your voice got lower by the second. Wanda had long ago reminded you of the importance of eating, but being busy with finals and heroism, you barely got time to shower at night.

“You really have to take better care of yourself, honey. You may be a hero, but you’re still a person. Basic self-care shouldn’t be alien to you.” Wanda held herself back from reprimanding you. It’s not like you were one of the twins, and yet she couldn’t help but care for you in such a close manner. “But yes, Dr. Lewis brought a delicious matzo ball soup. I think you’ll like it.”

“Darcy?” Wanda raised her eyebrows at that – it didn’t go missed by you. “When you weren’t around she was the one to nurse me back to health. After doing my stitches for a few weeks and talking about the best pizza in the city, we’re now on a first-name basis.”

“Hmm well she’s a wonderful doctor,” Wanda pointed out. She took a pause before allowing her insecurities to get the best of her. “Younger.”

Although mostly oblivious, you could sense the hint of venom and sadness in her voice. Wanda gave a lot of thought to the difference in your ages.“I guess, but you’re the only doctor I got my eye on. Really the only person I care to kiss.”

“That is very sweet of you.”

When Wanda didn’t smile, you did it for her. “Well, it’s true.”

Once you were all checked out, your side merely patched up with little scrapes that would soon heal, Wanda guided you towards the kitchen. She still found it amusing how you pranced around in what she called ‘a very colorful and stretchy pajama bodysuit.’ Teasing you was truly the highlight of her days.

While you took your seat on a stool in the kitchen island, Wanda set off to find the remaining food. She found it heartwarming that although you didn’t share her beliefs, you could appreciate them alongside her culture. Throughout many dates you called restaurants ahead of time to ensure proper dishes for your girlfriend who always pecked you on the cheek for being so sweet to her.

As you fed yourself a mouthful of the dish, you suddenly piped up. “Oh I finished my last final today!”

Wanda shook her head at the childish manner of yours to speak with your mouth full, but her exhausted face was fueled with pride. “That’s wonderful, baby! Physiology, correct?” You nodded. “How was it?”

“I think it went well. I dunno, I just hope I didn’t entirely fail the class.”

“You are a very smart and capable person, okay?” When her features turned serious, you knew Wanda was about to give you the pep talk of a lifetime. “You’d never fail at anything. I am very proud of you for even having done the exam. Now don’t you dare put yourself down, my dear. You sell yourself far too short when having such a big and beautiful brain.”

“You think my brain is beautiful?” Eyebrows raised, you took another mouthful of the soup. “Gross.”

“It’s so sexy.” You and Wanda shared a lighthearted laugh, ensuring that you weren’t loud enough to awaken the twins you had yet to meet. “Now be good for me and eat up. I’m not letting you go back home in your condition. There’s an extra spot in my bed for a reason.”

Although there wasn’t anything wrong with you apart from a faint bruise, Wanda was having none of it. That night you slept better than ever after having showered, wearing oversized pajamas she had given you before laying by her side. You only hoped she wouldn’t comment on the way you awoke with both arms wrapped around her waist as you mirrored a koala – for Wanda, that is what a perfect life was.

///

Wanda: Would you like to meet the twins?

You stared down at your phone when you received the message. It had become a custom for you to always immediately look at it when the distinctive sound of Wanda’s texts came through. She could need you, or be in mid-emergency. Whatever it was, hers were always the first messages you saw in the morning.

You: Yeah! That would be awesome actually.

You: Wait Spidey-me or me-me?

Wanda: Whatever you feel comfortable with, angel. I just thought we’ve been together for two long months. And it’s almost Christmas so they’ll be far too busy with their dad after the 24th.

You: I guess it can’t hurt for them to love me because I’m their favorite superhero.

You: I am their fav superhero, right?

Wanda: 🤐

You: WANDA!!

Wanda: Yes, bubala. You are their favorite. What matters most is that you’re MY favorite!

You: So cute. I’ll call you later tonight and we can work something out. Now go save some lives, Dr. Maximoff!

Wanda: You too, b'shert. Keep warm for me.

Each message she sent you made you smile more than the last. Nothing, no one, had allowed you to feel in such a wondrous manner. Wanda was a breath of fresh air. She was the calm, serene cool breeze on a Spring morning after having woken up to open the window — so beautifully rejuvenating you with life.

You’d never let her go.

///

You weren’t sure what to bring to meet a pair of ten year old boys, but perhaps bags of candy Wanda would surely confiscate and the surprise of meeting a superhero would be enough. The day in which Wanda invited you over caused you great stress, your hands shaking at each given moment, only increasing once you left your home.

“You’ll be fine,” Peter had told you. “They’re just kids. Plus, if it doesn’t work out then you can always, you know, take advantage of the whole superhero thing.”

It was wrong, but you realized he had half a point. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as horrible as you thought given that they were Wanda’s children, but you feared that if they disliked you, that perhaps you’d break up with Wanda — or worse, you’d get between their relationship.

As scared as you were at first, upon seeing the curious eyes of the twins you could only smirk at them, offering the candy you brought as a peace offering while Wanda threw a hard gaze your way.

“Are you Y/N?” One of the twins, Tommy as you recognized from the pictures Wanda had sent and shared with you, questioned.

“Are you dating our mom?” Came Billy’s blunt curiosity.

“Billy!”

You threw Wanda a sympathetic gaze at Wanda, stooping to the boys’ eyeline. “Yes to both of those questions. I hope it’s okay that I’m seeing her. Your mom is a wonderful warrior of a woman and I couldn’t be happier by her side. I’m sure the two of you are just as amazing as she is, huh?”

“Maybe,” Tommy shrugged as she attempted to keep his amusement down.

The four of you sat around the dinner table, you across from Wanda who failed to keep her joy of you being there down. She eyed you every once in a while as the children chatted about the eventful weekend they had with their father. Although seemingly a good parent, you had your reservations about that extending to his persona.

You couldn’t help but find the similarities in Tommy and Billy alongside their mother. They both carried her charisma, the glint in their eyes as they passionately spoke about their favored topics. You learned that not only were they avid comic book readers, but that from their own words their own shared bedroom was solely dedicated to their favorite heroes – you wondered if that extended to Wanda’s heroism.

“Boys, Y/N actually has something they’d like to tell you. It’s about that…swinging spiderling,” Wanda couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease. “Honey?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Well, I guess there’s not really a way to sugarcoat this, but I’m the Spider-person,” you flashed them a toothy grin, but as content as you were relaying the information, they only stared at you blankly.

“Like for Halloween?” Billy asked as he turned to his brother.

“No, I mean I’m the person behind the mask. Swinging around the city and stuff like that.”

The boys eyed their mother, silently questioning your sanity without muttering a word. They had met their fair share of bizarre girlfriends their father had, but never did they imagine their mother to have stooped to such a level.

“Okay fine, look,” you rolled your eyes, raising the sleeve of your warm sweater to point it at the wall. “Sorry, Wanda.” Upon your apologies, you shot a web towards your partner, reaching her fork before pulling it towards you. “Ta-da!”

Although surprised, the boys still weren’t sold on it.

“Anyone can do that. We got web-shooters too, you know,” Billy said.

Sighing, you couldn’t help but stoop to the lowest levels to impress them. You pointed at your bare wrists, showing them off so that they could see the lack of shooters on them. “But I don't have- never mind. I’m just gonna borrow your ceiling real quick.”

“Knock yourself out, darling,” Wanda laughed, making sure that her boys were eating while enjoying the show you put on.

After crawling through the walls and ceiling for long enough, nearly breaking half of Wanda’s decorations at that, you were sure it was enough for the twins to tell what your heroic identity was. You knew your girlfriend wasn’t too keen about you rummaging through her home without walking on your two feet upon the floor, but even she chortled when you hovered from a web above Tommy and Billy, the twins elated to find that their mom’s partner was their favored hero.

From then on, on days which you could visit, at least once a week, you found yourself planted over Wanda’s couch. Your job was to bring the snacks and popcorn while Wanda provided the movies. Together you bonded much better with the twins, and for the first time in your life you didn’t mind being seen as a parental figure.

///

The holidays alongside Wanda went by with ease. You didn’t have much of a family, always celebrating Christmas with MJ and Peter, at times even Ned and May. Although missing them, you found solace beside your newfound girlfriend.

“How do you light it again?” You questioned, eyes darting across the chanukiah sitting before you. The last thing you wished to do was to tarnish such a valuable part of her religion. “Babe, I’m scared to set your place on fire.”

“Hush. You light it from left to right. ‘Left to right, that’s how you light’ is what I tell my boys,” Wanda explained as she stood behind you, her hand guiding your own. “Always light the shamash first then light the rest with it.”

Doing as you were told, you lit the candle in the middle, carefully making sure none of the fire landed over the table. Usually the boys were there to properly help your inexperienced self, but now that you were alone by Wanda’s side, there was no hiding behind the pair of ten-year-olds.

“And don’t you dare break my chanukiah either. Pietro bought me this one and I love the design,” Wanda told you. “Look at that beautiful crystal.”

“Please focus on me and not the crystal. I know it looks fucking awesome, but I think I’m about to accidentally desecrate an entire culture,” you whined as your hand began shaking, the candle merely hovering over a fresh unlit one. “I’m so sorry Wanda, I-”

“HaShem will forgive you, sweetheart. And you are doing great. Here, let me help.” Wanda guided her hand atop your own, letting it run across a candle that she helped you light. She remained there for a few seconds before pulling it away to carefully light the rest on their proper other. “Did you know that the central candle represents HaShem’s light? This chanukiah is a symbol of enlightenment.”

You hummed at that, pressing your back against Wanda’s front. Turning slightly, you didn’t miss the glint of pride she received upon eyeing the candelabra. “Thank you for teaching me about this. It’s really important to you, so it’s important to me too.”

“Hmm how sweet,” she hummed.

Hugging you from behind, Wanda’s lips found your own. It began as a sweet peck, simply embracing all the unspoken love she held for you. As much as she adored her children, the redhead couldn’t be happier that she had uninterrupted time by your side while on a lengthy break from work.

The two of you have lacked the loneliness to be together. After nearly three months of becoming official, the desire you had for the other had reached its boiling point. It was only a matter of time before said volcano erupted.

“You look beautiful tonight,” you whispered against Wanda’s lips. Turning around, you got a full view of her outfit lit up by the six candles. It was a simple cardigan alongside warm yoga pants, and yet you couldn’t help but see her as the most beautiful specimen across the galaxy. “Such a pretty thing.”

“I could say the same about yourself, zeeskeit.” Wanda pulled you close, her hands running down your deeply clothed body which shielded you from the blizzard being carried across the New York skyline. She let her fingertips travel beneath your hoodie, an area she only halfway explored during your lengthy make-out sessions over her bed after your patrol sessions. “May I touch you? Am I allowed to…make love to you?”

“Make love to me?” You raised your eyebrows because beneath the charade of being older and wiser, Wanda was nothing but innocent when it came to lust. She blushed slightly at your institution and attempted to pull back, but you held her face close, thumb running down a reddened, warm cheek. “Yeah. You can do anything you’d like, Wanda. Anything just for you.”

Closing in on you, Wanda allowed you to feast upon the warmth she exuded. Her lips teased your own with small grazes, her eyes darting to them before wetting her own with her tongue. “Come here, my love.” Becoming one, she grabbed your hands tightly, forehead pressed against your own as the oil from the chanukiah burned brightly. With viridescent eyes closed, she breathed out. “Tzu gezunt, tzu leben, un tzu mazal.”

You were dragged to her bedroom by excited arms which simply begged you for fun. Wanda’s giddiness matched an immaturity you held as a young adult, throwing herself over the edge of the bed in sitting position before pulling you over herself. The life in her eyes was lit with the fire in the living room.

“I don’t tend to do this, you know?” Wanda muttered against your lips, taking them in control again, kissing you tenderly. “But I’m happy to make an exception for you, pretty one.”

“I’m honored. I can’t believe I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” you told her, your mouth dropping a flurry of endearment across her face, merely hovering over her ear with hands that tugged at her clothes. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

As though she mirrored a porcelain doll, you began undressing Wanda. Each article of clothing was shed little by little, her cardigan merely inching up her skin in a slow tempo as the two of you made out. There was hesitation in her body that froze at times, but melted when your lips guided her.

There too was uncertainty in you. With superhuman strength you could easily lift a car and not bat an eye, meaning hurting Wanda wasn’t completely off the table. You didn’t allow your hands to stay long upon her midsection as you removed her top, instead substituting them with your sight that didn’t leave your girlfriend’s upper body which lacked a brassiere.

“Holy fuck,” you drooled at the sight of her bare breast, far too afraid to break such artistic beauty. Praxiteles only wished his Aphrodite matched your own. “There’s no way you’re this pretty. It should be illegal because fu-

A finger landed over your lips successfully shushing you.

“You swear like a sailor, sheifale,” Wanda giggled and you swore you could only see a goddess before you. “Let me help you out of your clothes. It’s not fair if you only get to see me.”

The pout she threw at you was enough to make you inch back, immediately grabbing your clothes and throwing it off. You nearly fell against the bedside table and the pants that pooled at your feet. At least until success met you halfway and you simply stood there with nothing but your underwear on, embarrassed as you noticed the little dogs with Santa hats on.

Looking down at yourself, you didn’t dare face Wanda. “Yeah, sorry about this. It was a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa. May gets really into Christmas and she loves dogs so…”

“And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable.” Wanda shook her head with amusement, her room dimly lit and yet you could see every ounce of happiness upon her. “Now come here. I miss you already.”

You helped Wanda off her pants, shifting her so that she’d lay with her head against the fluffy pillows you found to be wildly comfortable after having crashed over for various nights. Her legs were smooth against your touch, so adorably responsive as your partner squirmed at the slightest caresses. You ran your hands up until you grabbed her backside, squeezing it as you pulled her in for a kiss.

Fingertips merely grazed her lacy black panties, yanking down the edges before-

“Wait stop.”

As soon as she spoke, you followed. While on top of Wanda you fully drew yourself back, breathlessly staring down with confusion. Her arms covered her chest, insecurities arising as she closed her eyes, hair coating her face to give her an extra sense of privacy.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You questioned with furrowed eyebrows, inspecting Wanda in search of any pain.

“No, no, I just…” Wanda felt shame rising through her nude body. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” you sympathized with her, you really did. Fear was nothing new for you. Ever since you got bit by that spider, not a day went by where you didn’t feel as though it would be your last. With enemies only increasing in size and powers, it was only a matter of time before the friendly neighborhood Spider-person was bested. “I’m scared to hurt you,” you admitted solely. “What are you afraid of?”

Wanda held your hands with her own, brushing her thumbs against the back of them before throwing you a reassuring smile that instantly turned bitter.

“I’m scared that maybe you won’t like what you see. Honey, it’s no secret that I am older, you know this,” she couldn’t help but say with dismay. “I have kids and I’m pushing 40. After the pregnancy Vis could barely even look at me. I’m not as pretty as the other girls you probably see on campus. Your friends. I’m…old and weird. I have stretch marks and I’ve never even been with someone who wasn't him before or after-”

At that you frowned, unbelieving the words that had spewed from her mouth. Surely you understood the fact that her job and children took up most of her time, but Wanda’s beauty shone across the galaxy brighter than the sun itself. “You haven’t?”

“No, sweetheart,” she felt humiliated to not be as experienced as she believed she should be. “I met Vis in high school. It’s always been him. I was supposed to grow old with him, not by myself…”

“Shhh it’s okay. I don’t mind.” You admitted, nuzzling your forehead against her own. A kiss was placed upon the tip of her nose, her face even more dashing without an ounce of make-up covering it. “And you’re not alone. Never with me.”

“But I’m ugly,” Wanda practically cried, unable to tear away the knot in her throat.

“Baby, what? Where is this coming from? You’re not ugly at all. You’re a warrior. You have given birth to not one, but two kids! Look at how far you’ve gotten in your career. With, again, two kids!” Seeing her in such disarray over untrue facts she spewed tugged at your heartstrings. Why couldn’t she see herself for what she was? Perhaps not all goddesses knew of their wondrous powers. “You’re perfect.”

“But honey, my body…” Wanda tried to muster out, but you shushed her to quiet down. Fingertips trailed across a raised scar on her abdomen, exploring the brutal force it had been made with. “Tommy came out fine, no trouble when I was giving birth to him. But Billy he…he was a c-section. The doctor didn’t think he’d make it, but he pulled through at the last second. It was the only way to get him out. As much as I love him, this,” with teary eyes, Wanda touched the marking on her skin. “Ugly scar, it cost me my marriage and my beauty. Vis couldn’t even look at me afterwards. A mutilated wife.”

You shared the sentiment, your own eyes filling up with tears. “If I ever meet him, I’m shoving my foot so far up his ass, it’s coming out his throat. That fucking idiot…” you whispered, a bout of bile rising up your throat.

Wanda didn’t react. She had long been told the same things from her friends, from Dr. Lewis who even once threatened to castrate her ex-husband with a scalpel from her operating room. She couldn’t find the truth in the statements. Vis rolled his eyes whenever she attempted to surprise him during anniversaries, the dreaded August 23rd. He would never lie to her.

“Can I see you?” You questioned, your eyes darting to Wanda’s tender ones raw with tears. “Only if you want. We can sit back on the couch and watch a movie or something. I could swing around and get us some food. Margherita pizza for the lady?”

Remaining silent, Wanda shrugged off her arms from her body. She allowed her hands to sit atop your shoulders, fingers exploring the bare area lovingly. Even without sight she could craft your body blindly, hands contorting to form you into a sculpture.

“Touch me,” she gave in. “please?”

You stared down at her stomach and all that met you were rolls sprawled across her midsection with stretch marks upon every inch of her skin: upon her breasts and along them, on her slightly swollen tummy you’d forever worship – you longed to kiss on her thighs that remained pushed together until you carefully pried them apart, and even by her hips which perfectly presented the markings. It felt alien to you. Staring at Wanda’s body, you wondered how she could ever describe herself as ugly when all that your eyes saw was excellence.

Without hesitation you carefully removed your underwear, garnering Wanda’s undying trust. She whimpered slightly when she saw your full nakedness, giving you the power to take off her own pair down her luscious legs. There was a golden Star of David which hung around her neck, one that she refused to take off ever since she was a child – her parents had given her one, another silver necklace for Pietro.

“Relax, baby,” you muttered towards her, leaning in to graze your lips against her chest. Kissing between the valley of her breasts, you allowed yourself to explore her entirely. “Thank you for trusting me.” you grabbed one of her hands, squeezing tight as you alternated between both soft mounds to place kisses on. “If at any point you want to stop, tell me. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she husked out. “Now get to it. I don’t like being teased, detka.”

“Impatient, how cute.”

Wanda was flushed against your body, her own reacting in the most adorable ways imaginable. Nipples stood hard and proud for you as your tongue swirled upon them. Leaving wet trails of saliva behind you, you made sure to give them both the similarly delicious treatment. While you lightly sucked on a hardened bud, the other was pinched and tugged lovingly.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Wanda moaned, back arching at the warm feeling she had never experienced in her life. A confusing wetness formed between her legs, aching as she rubbed her thighs together. “Oh Y/N…”

“Beautiful,” you said against the swell of her breast, kissing the stretch marks you found. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

Fingers began teasing her cunt, loving the dripping mess it had become for mere minutes of foreplay. Wanda adorably mewled in response. She wasn’t used to being so aroused, not even all by herself. Folds were parted as you traveled up and down her slit. When you so much as found her clit with a mere touch, she nearly lost it.

You dipped inside, unable to keep the desperation you felt to yourself. Wanda was hot against you. She wasn’t sure how to react, instead alternating between gripping the bed sheets and scratching at your skin. Slight tenderness caught her by surprise. Even in the times previous to having the children, Vis had never treated her in such a way. But then again, she couldn’t dare compare the two of you. Either way you’d come out on top.

The sole finger of yours twitched within Wanda’s velvety walls which hugged you tightly. It explored the unknown, coated entirely by slick juices and love. You sloshed it slightly, smirking against your lover’s skin as wet sounds filled your ears. She was an unbelievable mess, slightly tight given how tense she was – although after reassurances whispered hotly by her ear, the redhead found it in herself to take a deep breath and melt against the bed.

“I can take more,” she admitted. Her hips sloppily moved against your own slow thrusts, urging you to go faster. Never had she longed for someone so deeply. Wanda hugged you close with a newfound sense of confidence. Her lips found your own, kissing you hard with the utmost amount of love she silently threw your way. “Come on, b'shert. Give me all you got. I want it all,” she slid her tongue against your own, never daring to break eye-contact. “I. Want. You.”

It was enough to release the monster from deep inside. Although you refused to harm her, you slipped a second finger inside her hole, filling her cunt up with digits that urged to bring her to the brink of an orgasm.

“Yeah, that’s it. There’s my good baby.” Wanda’s nipples crept upon your skin. She met your own movements with phlegmatic ones, legs wrapping themselves around your midsection. “I don’t think I’ll last long, sweetheart. Oh honey!”

Surely the last time she dared receive such immense pleasure was beneath her. You curled your fingers deep inside Wanda once she had adjusted to them, thumb circling her clit. She fell apart in your arms that held her tight, swearing loudly in the three languages she knew for the entire borough to hear.

You let her relax for a few seconds, kissing her flushed face, mouthing only the sweetest compliments. “You did so well for me, Wanda. Such a good girl.”

Those words brought her a surge of happiness she had long wished to own. She couldn’t help but smile against you, eyes droopy with adoration as your fingers remained deep within her slick, puffy cunt.

Without a word you began drifting down. Her confusion was clear, but she refused to question you as you placed your kisses all over the rolls upon her stomach, the swollen tummy being adored without a hint of hatred.

Wanda let out a strangled sob as you casually flicked your tongue over her pussy. She had never experienced that, always the same monotone sex with Vision who didn’t dare venture down as you did. The feeling of your mouth upon her dripping slit was far too enjoyable for her to ever wish to let go.

“You taste amazing,” you told her, already drunk on her flavor. “So fucking good.”

That night you didn’t stop until Wanda was a slumped, ragged mess over the bed. She cried to be allowed to return the favor, but with her exhausted voice and heavy eyelids, you couldn’t ask for anything. Instead you picked her up and dragged her to the bathroom, cleaning her up, allowing her to rest against you as you changed the sheets, and kissing her forehead to sleep.

It wasn’t the first night you felt love for Wanda, but it would be the last you left it unspoken.

///

On the night of Christmas Eve, you swung around to save the day.

Vis had urged the twins to visit him on that day rather than Christmas, leaving the small children to agree upon the promise of candy and half of their gifts being opened a day early. Although Wanda disapproved, knowing it was her day with the boys, she didn’t dare fight it. After all, their joy over seeing their father couldn’t be dissuaded. Whatever issues she had with her ex-husband were between the two of them, never daring to involve Billy and Tommy who reeked with innocence.

To say she was surprised to find you throwing one of her windows open and jumping through it would be an understatement. She had settled on a date with her television and leftover chocolates she had laying around the house, perhaps some wine to tone down her sadness. The apartment was horribly quiet without two little menaces running around and begging to be fed nothing but greasy, fast-food.

“Sorry I’m late! I swear I must’ve swung across the whole fucking city just to get you these,” you exasperated, closing the window behind you as you shook off some snow from your covered body. “But I’m here!”

A break had to be taken from patrolling, instead letting the cops take over for a night as you and your newfound protégé, Miles who volunteered at M.I.L.E. alongside Peter’s aunt May, his mom having run for city council and won, a father who you once attempted to save but failed, also spent his Christmas Eve alongside family and friends. Eventually you’d tell Wanda about him, but not until you were sure he’d be a good fit – child endangerment was not something you took lightly.

Your girlfriend frowned at you, more importantly the object upon your hands. She rose from the couch and, to her dismay, ignored her floor being drenched with melted snow. She placed her wine down on the coffee table and walked towards you. “Are those…babka rolls?”

“Yeah! I tried recreating this recipe I found online, but then I got too carried away wrapping your gifts,” you used a hand to point behind you, backpack filled with gifts that overflowed. It was the perfect time to remove the warm beanie and earmuffs that shielded you from the cold, given how warm Wanda’s apartment was. “I nearly set the apartment on fire. Peter Googled a few places for me and, uh, I may have used my Spidey status to get this dude to make it for you.”

“What did it cost?”

“A selfie and video to send to his friends,” you mumbled. It wasn’t that you didn’t love taking pictures with the public, of course you did. But all that adorned your body was one of your old, beat up suits you merely carried around to cover yourself from the freezing weather. The fancier ones were saved for heroic work and better encounters with people. “Maybe an autograph too.”

You didn’t notice Wanda was in such close proximity until she urged you to drop the babka rolls on the coffee table beside her half-full glass of wine with silent hands.

“Take off your mask,” Wanda breathlessly ordered. You did as you were told, setting down the wrapped babka along with several horribly-adorned presents. When standing up straight, your mask off and thrown to the side, your girlfriend didn’t hesitate to lean in. Hands tenderly cupped your freezing cheeks, but she didn’t care. Having you close was good enough for Wanda. “I love you.”

Nothing could ever keep the thousand-watt smile from forming upon your face. You didn’t care that you were covered in snow, that your heavy boots Wanda had urged you to wear left wet trails as they stomped across her hardwood floors. All you could think about was her – pulling Wanda as close and ever to take her lips hostage.

“I love you too,” was all you said upon pulling away much to your disappointment. “Like, so fucking much. It’s kind of crazy how much I love you actually.”

“Hmm I’m glad, baby.”

Wanda nuzzled herself against you, ignoring the wetness from your suit and coat – she was glad to know you at least stuck to her pleas of keeping warm. She held you tight as though you’d leave by the following day, but until she told you otherwise, you’d spent all your waking time beside the woman you adored.

“So, uh, I brought a few DVDs,” you said. “I know it’s old fashioned, but I thought we could hook up the twins’ PlayStation in the living room’s television to watch Home Alone.”

“I would love that.” Wanda placed a kiss on your chest, most importantly over the spider crest that lay there. “My little spiderling. Please tell me you at least brought a change of clothes. Although you know I’ve been keeping extras just for you. And maybe Santa has brought you something for you to have here.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe,” she teased. “Perhaps someday you won’t have to leave anymore. And we could make this…permanent.”

“I would love that.” Hugging her close, you promised to forever love and care for her, for her sanity, her children, and anything she desired. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Wanda stooped up to kiss you again, this time lingering upon your freezing lips carrying nothing but amour and desire. “Now go take a shower, sweetheart. You smell like a sewer rat. Get yourself all warmed up. I need my cuddle buddy.”

“Anything for you, Dr. Maximoff.”

Without the kids she was miserable, but her misery turned to happiness with you by her side. Wanda was thrilled to not only fall asleep with you hugging her tight from behind, but also awake to find herself half on top of you, face nuzzled against your chest. Although she had never officially celebrated Christmas let alone for her children’s sake, she could surely get used to a very excited superhero tearing open gifts and flashing them towards her.

As you stared back at Wanda that morning, promising that your gifts were for her own celebrations and not Christmas, you noticed the similarities between the scarlet wrapping paper and her hair. It was then you realized that loving Wanda, holding her heart in your hands, would forever be red.

[steddiewithachance]

I'm Here on Business

Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.

For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈

***

It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.

Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.

Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.

Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.

The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.

The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.

"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.

"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."

So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.

Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.

Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.

Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.

Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.

"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.

"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.

"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.

"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.

"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."

Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.

"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."

Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.

"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.

And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.

"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.

"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"

***

A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.

The text reads:

Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?

It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.

Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?

The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.

Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.

***

Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.

"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.

"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.

"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."

"Thank you! I owe you, boss."

***

When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.

Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.

And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?

Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.

His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.

The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.

The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.

"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.

"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.

Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.

"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.

"Your uncle?" Steve asks.

"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.

"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"

Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."

"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.

"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.

"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.

"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.

"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.

"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.

"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."

"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."

Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.

"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."

"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"

Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."

"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.

"Yeah, let's walk."

Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.

"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.

"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."

"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.

"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.

"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.

Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.

"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.

"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.

"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."

They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.

"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."

***

The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.

"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.

"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.

"What? Never?"

Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.

"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.

"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.

"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.

"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.

"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.

"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.

The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.

Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.

The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.

Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.

Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.

"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.

"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.

Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."

"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.

"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."

"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.

"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.

"Obviously I want you to."

***

The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.

"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.

"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.

"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.

Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.

"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.

"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."

"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."

When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.

"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.

He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.

Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."

"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.

As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.

"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.

Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."

"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.

What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.

"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.

***

"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.

"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."

"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.

And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.

"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.

[worldofstoriesanddreams]

Isn't there an age limit?

The Justice League gathered in the meeting room to deal with yet another potential world ending threat. On the screen was a projection of an incoming alien armada. The invaders were as numerous as the stars. Each spaceship looked like a skull with many tentacles.

“These mechanical ships harvest a world’s resources, destroying all life, while terraforming the planet into servers which become part of Brainiac’s interstellar network,” Batman explained.

“We don’t have sufficient numbers to take them all down,” Martian Manhunter pointed out. “Is there a weakness we can target? Or do they have a leader we can capture to force the entire fleet into submission?”

“We need to locate Brainiac and infiltrate the ship he’s on.” While Batman spoke, a hush silence fell on the entire room. Everyone stared at the screen behind him, with mouths wide open.

Turning around, Batman stared in unbelief.

A massive sphere - a dead star, moved between Earth and the alien army. 

The cameras zoomed in on a red dot pushing it - Fawcett’s new local hero with the demeanour of a golden retriever - Captain Marvel. 

Gripping the titanic star like an oversized plastic ball, he swung it forward, hitting the incoming spaceships out of the galaxy.  

The Herculean man’s face lit with childish glee as he pumped his fist in the air. 

Grinning like an idiot, he carted the unimaginably heavy celestial object away, while whistling a ditty. 

How powerful was that man? 

More importantly, does he have any weakness in case he needs to be taken down?

“Phew,” Flash was the first to get his voice back. “The new guy took care of that. So can we go home now?”

“No,” Batman raised his hand. “Change of agenda. It’s time we expanded our membership.” Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. What better way to keep an eye on the new guy than to bring him into the fold.

Superman had a silly hopeful grin on his face. “I vote we invite Captain Marvel to join the League.”  The Last Son of Krypton must suspect that the new hero is a fellow Kryptonian.

“We don’t know anything about him,” Green Lantern cautioned.

“Better get him on our side than have him join our enemies,” Batman replied as the screen showed photos and articles about Captain Marvel gleaned from the internet for all to study.

“He’s clean.” Cyborg ran his checks on the man. “He’s a boy scout. Half of all the footage I have found — and I mean exactly half — shows him rescuing cats from trees or helping little old ladies cross the road while carrying groceries for them.”

“Cast your votes,” Batman ordered. “Do we want Captain Marvel to be a member of the Justice League?”

*

The decision was unanimous. Captain Marvel has a place in the Justice League, that is, if he wants it. With his power set, he would be a valuable asset to the team. All appearances of the new hero have shown that he is one of the good guys.

“I’ll ask him,” Superman volunteered. He was dying to meet the new guy. He had to be a fellow Kryptonian. Though he must have a chat with The Captain about Bat-paranoia, to hide how much Kryptonians can really do. Otherwise Bats might break out his Kryptonite stores to hit them both.

For example, while pushing a titanic star, for goodness sake, please make it look a lot more challenging.

According to Cyborg, Captain Marvel would appear in Fawcett right after a massive lightning strike from the clear, cloudless sky. The hero tended to patrol Fawcett for an hour before seven in the morning and for an hour after three in the afternoon on weekdays. His schedule was more unpredictable during the weekends. 

Clark was a reporter. 

Could The Captain be an elementary school teacher in his civilian identity?

It was a quarter past three on a Wednesday afternoon. Superman hovered four hundred feet above Fawcett’s busiest square, drawing a curious crowd while he waited for Captain Marvel to make his appearance.

Lightning struck an alley near a local elementary school.

“S-superman!” Captain Marvel hovered in front of him. 

The man’s brilliant blue eyes brimmed with excitement as he stared at Superman with an open-mouthed grin. 

“What brings you to Fawcett?” The Captain’s cheeks flushed as he stiffened, arms crossing his heavily muscled chest. If Superman didn’t know any better, he’d think Captain Marvel was starstruck.

“Captain Marvel,” Superman began, feeling a little self conscious.“I come on behalf of the Justice League. We’ve seen what you can do and want you to join our team.”

“You want me to join the Justice League?” The big guy was practically bouncing with excitement. If he were a golden retriever with a tail, he’d be wagging it.

Just as abruptly, he looked down, slouching as if trying to shrink his large frame. “But isn’t there an age limit to join the League?”

“We don’t discriminate against anyone based on their ages.” 

Superman whispered conspiratorially. “I don’t even know how old I was when my ship landed on earth. For all you know, it could have taken lightyears to get here.”

“Hmm,” Captain Marvel rubbed the back of his neck. “If you say so.”

“Take your time to think about it,” Superman handed him a League communicator. “This is for you. If you want to talk to us, just press this button,” he showed The Captain how to use the device.

“For me?” The guy looked as excited as a kid who had received a shiny new toy. 

“Yes, for you,” Superman replied. “Call us when you’ve decided.”

“I want in,” Captain looked up, grinning from ear to ear.

“Then, welcome to the Justice League!” Superman shook his hand. “Come with me to our headquarters.”

*

The flight to the Justice League’s Headquarters with Superman was fun. 

That giant satellite that Cap often flew past when he left earth’s atmosphere was the Justice League’s Watchtower -  a secret meeting place for Justice League members.

Billy was flying with Superman. 

Elated.

The SUPERMAN!

How cool was that?

His hero was a lot chattier in person. 

Superman talked about Krypton, his home world. His dad uploaded all Krypton’s history and knowledge into the A.I. of the spaceship that brought Kal-el to earth. 

Kal-el was Superman’s birth name.

“What’s your birth name?” Superman asked?

“William,” Cap replied.

“Wil-em,” Superman looked deep in thought. 

“The Ems — I think I know your bloodline.”

“You do?” The thought that Superman even cared about Billy’s family warmed him like a cup of hot chocolate. But as far as Billy knew, he was a Batson, not an Em. He was four when he lost his family. It’s been three years since. His memories of Daddy, Mummy and Mary were beginning to fade.

“Come with me to my Fortress of Solitude after your induction and I’ll show you Krypton’s records about the Ems,” Superman grinned as he tapped on the satellite.

A panel slid open.

“Where is it?” Cap asked as he flew into the airlock.

“In the Arctic,” he accompanied Cap in the dock.

“Are there polar bears?” Cap felt giddy with excitement.

“Plenty,” Superman laughed as he walked Cap through the massive hall. It was like nothing Billy had ever seen. 

“I can introduce you to a family of friendly bears,” Superman grinned.

“I would love that,” Billy’s heart did flip flops over the thought of getting to meet polar bears who were friends with Superman. Cap could speak all languages. He’d have a great time chatting with Superman’s bear buddies.

“Holy Moley,” Captain Marvel exclaimed as he walked through the security checkpoint. The doorway opened into futuristic corridor with interactive walls and holographic displays. 

Announcing the arrival of Superman and his guest Captain Marvel, a tinny voice rang out.

“Brace yourself,” Superman whispered. “The rest of the League is waiting for us in the meeting room.”

A metallic panel slid open revealing a grand meeting room. Batman sat at the head of the long table. Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, Cyborg and Aquaman sat around it. There were two empty seats.

All eyes were on Captain Marvel.

“Holy Moley,” Cap whispered. He couldn’t help himself. It’s a bad habit he picked up from his late father.

“Guys,” Superman announced. “Captain Marvel has agreed to join the Justice League.”

The room broke into applause.

“Welcome to the team,” Flash whooped.

“Let’s celebrate,” Aquaman tilted a large bottle of whiskey, filled a glass and slid it across the table to Captain Marvel.

Cap looked at the glass in front of him and back at Aquaman. “Isn’t there an age limit?”

[harrysfolklore]

i told you id request to keep it alive, so like honouary wag fluffy blurb with first race back where she’s an official wag? and the girls are so excited and charles is excited to be able to say that she’s his 😇

MORE HONORARY WAG BABIES !!! this is our girl as an official wag 🥺 READ THE HONORARY WAG HERE

The summer break had flown by, and as you stepped onto the familiar grounds of the paddock, the buzz of the post-summer atmosphere hit you immediately.

But this time, something was different. No longer were you just the 'honorary WAG' tagging along with your friends, half-hidden in the shadows. This time, you were walking hand-in-hand with Charles, officially his girlfriend, and it felt as though all eyes were on you.

You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you both passed the Ferrari hospitality area, the usual sea of red and white surrounding you. Charles smiled down at you, his green eyes warm and comforting, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "You okay?" he asked softly, clearly sensing the slight nervousness in your body language.

You nodded, smiling. "Yeah, just feels a bit different now."

"Don’t worry. You’ve always belonged here," Charles chuckled softly, "Now it’s just… official."

You smiled at Charles' words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. As you approached the area where you were meant to meet the girls, you turned to face him.

"I should go meet the others at the Paddock Club," you said, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

Charles's lips curved into a playful smirk. "Ah, abandoning me already for your glamorous WAG duties?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "Oh, please. As if you won't be busy with team meetings and interviews all day."

"True," he conceded, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But I'd much rather be busy with you."

A blush crept up your cheeks as you gave him a gentle push. "Behave, Leclerc. We're in public."

Charles laughed, pulling you close for a quick kiss. "See you later, mon coeur," he murmured against your lips before reluctantly letting you go.

With a final wave, you made your way to the Paddock Club, spotting your friends gathered near one of the tables. As you approached, you could see the grins spreading across their faces.

"Well, well, well," Rebecca called out teasingly as you joined them. "If it isn't the newest official member of our little club!"

Kika giggled, linking her arm through yours. "Welcome to the dark side, darling."

"Oh, stop it," you laughed, feeling both embarrassed and oddly proud.

"You were always one of us, it's just official now," Carmen said, winking at you.

You loved these girls so much.

"But seriously," Lily said, "how does it feel to be the official Ferrari WAG now?"

"I mean," Kika added with a grin, "it’s kind of a big deal."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at their teasing. "It feels good. Weirdly normal though. I guess because I’ve been around so much already."

"Well, we have two reasons to celebrate today. Not only do we have YN officially joining our ranks, but it's also Kika's first race as Mrs. Gasly!" Rebecca said as she called out a waiter to order some champagne.

Kika beamed, her new wedding ring glinting in the light. "I still can't believe it sometimes," she admitted, a dreamy look in her eyes.

As the champagne arrived and Rebecca began pouring glasses for everyone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. Sure, things were different now, but as you clinked glasses with your friends and laughter filled the air, you realized that everything felt right.

As the race day activities continued, you found yourself moving between the paddock, the garage, and the hospitality areas. Charles had commitments, but every so often, he’d glance over at you, his eyes softening as he caught your gaze. There was a quiet comfort between you two now, knowing you didn’t have to hide anything anymore.

At one point, during a brief break between work, Charles pulled you into a quiet corner of the garage. He leaned against the wall, tugging you closer by the waist until you were standing between his legs, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

"You doing okay?" he asked, his voice low and affectionate as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You nodded, resting your hands on his chest. "I’m fine. Just… still getting used to all this. But I’m happy to be here with you."

Charles smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I’m happy you’re here too." His expression softened as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "You make everything better, you know that?"

You smiled against his lips, feeling your heart swell at his words. "You’re not so bad yourself, Leclerc."

Before either of you could say anything more, you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. "Am I interrupting?"

You turned to see Joris standing there with an amused grin on his face. "Come on, Charles. Time to get back to work. You’ve got a race to win."

Charles sighed dramatically but gave you one last kiss before stepping back. "I’ll see you after the race?"

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I’ll be cheering you on."

As Charles disappeared with Joris, you rejoined the girls, who immediately started up their teasing again.

"Did you guys have a moment?" Kika asked with a smirk.

"Oh, they definitely had a moment," Lily added, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Can’t a girl spend a few quiet minutes with her boyfriend without you lot jumping in?" you rolled your eyes playfully.

"Oh, come on," Rebecca chimed in, her eyes sparkling. "We're just happy for you two. It's about time, honestly. "

"How could I forget? You literally bet on us," you teased with no real malice in your voice..

"Hey, it worked out, didn't it?" Carmen said with a wink. "And now you're no longer our honorary WAG. You're the real deal."

[witherby]

I come with a trade proposal

You receive: 🧋🍩❤️🔁

I receive: mermaid reader pt 3

Hmm 🤔 I think I can cobble together some more mermaid content. Deal!

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader, Part 3

Click here for Part 1

Click here for Part 2

Reader will come back in the next part. Reblogs will make that part come out faster!

"Father."

Bruce looks away from the computer and sits back, the leather of his chair squeaking slightly. He shoots his son a brief smile and gestures him further into the Aquarium's office. Damian complies, walking past ugly, water-themed wallpaper and varying plaques and certifications that proclaim their successful operations, until he's standing on the other side of the desk. He watches his dad push a small stack of files aside, then use his coffee mug as a paperweight. He just barely hides a grimace.

"How can I help you, Tadpole?"

"I've observed a new behavior with our mer," Damian says, straight to the point like always. He lets his palms splay onto the desk, brushing against mahogany riddled with chips, scratches, and ring stains from a total disregard for coasters. "It started about a week ago. I'd like to grab the files we have on wild mer behavior and cross-reference what I can with what they're doing."

Bruce snorts. He's already standing to pull the research from its corresponding cabinet. "Surprised you don't have these documents memorized already, or photocopied for yourself. What's the new behavior you're seeing?"

"They're more eager than ever to get me into the tank," Damian says, grabbing the binder and flipping through each page with clear familiarity. "I thought perhaps they were finally getting lonely, or bored enough to form a stress response, but they're not doing it to any of the other handlers. They're also leaving gifts for me on the lip of the tank where they take their meals. When I do get in to swim with them, they won't stop bumping me with the edge of their tail, and —"

Damian stops talking when his father puts his arms on the desk and sits his head on top.

"Do you know something about this?"

"Can't believe..." Bruce mumbles, the rest of his sentence lost. Damian leans towards him eagerly, green eyes alight.

"Repeat that?" He asks. Bruce hardly ever interacted with their mer, so the fact that he knows something Damian doesn't is intriguing beyond belief. "Father?"

"I, ah..." Bruce sits up and rubs his temples. He looks a combination of stressed and amused, like he can't tell if he wants to laugh about the situation or cry. "I said, I can't believe my first child-in-law is gonna be a mer."

Damian frowns. "Elaborate."

"What you've described, Tadpole," Bruce says, waving a hand in his direction, "is courting behavior. They think you're their mate. Prospective mate at the very least."

The taller man walks around the desk, is easy, almost jovial attitude replaced by deadly seriousness.

"I'm gonna come with you at dinnertime to watch their behavior more closely," Bruce states, tone leaving no room for argument. "If there's a chance this mating isn't actually "completed" yet, then you'll have to be unassigned from their care."

Damian feels his heart clench, something inside him twisting almost painfully as he stares wide-eyed at his dad.

"What!?"

[bluerosefox]

Save Her

Guys I came up with a new DPxDC AU where we get Deaged!Dani(Ellie), Mom!Cass, and Dad!Danny.

"Cass... Are you sure you want to do this?" Tim asked one more time before he would put the last code in. He knew she was sure, more than willing to deal with it but he just needed one more confirmation before they all started what couldn't be stopped.

Cass stared at Tim, her face straight and her eyes firm without a hint of doubt. She nodded in his direction, despite the growing nervousness in her stomach for a second even with Stephanie squeezed her hand in reassurance and support.

Cass turned her gaze to the little girl, no older than thirteen, suspended in a tank full of green glowing goo and asleep. Her vitals showing up on screens near the tank coming from the wires that were hooked up to her inside the tank.

She said her name was Danielle Masters but had also said she wouldn't mind a new name once she was no longer just a clone but instead Cass's new daughter. She had only asked to include her 'dad', a Danny Fenton/Phantom, in her future naming decision too

Cass took a breath and said softly but determined "Save her."

Tim nodded back and entered the final code into the computer.

-x-x-

Basically-

Cass, while in Hong Kong, finds a destabilizing Dani.

Cass see's the desperation and fear Dani is in and helps as best as she can.

She manages to help but they both seem to know the next time this happens will be Dani's last.

Dani is very, very sick at this point and needs help even standing up.

Cass see's and remembers herself at this age and wants to help.

They do become friends and learn each other backstories

Cass goes to the one person she knows who might to be able to help with the destabilizing clone problem.

Tim, Tim is that person. (Because he's friends with Conner, and no doubt knows Conner's DNA and how it works, AND the fact he tried his hand at the whole cloning thing.... Tim told Cass everything once things settled down after his BruceQuest was done)

They fill him in on what is happening and he starts helping, mostly cause Cass asked and because "Clone rights!" (side note, he asked if its okay to tell Conner, when yes, Conner comes over and chats with Dani the entire time whenever he has free time) (the image of Conner sitting at her bedside as they chat is in my head btw)

Tim finds out the reason Dani is destabilizing so badly is because she's not 'complete', she needs a female donor technically because she's female not male (unlike Conner who is stable because he is male with male donors)

They find out that after trying to see of ways to save her that Cass was the closest that could donate her DNA (they also discover there might be a connection between ectoplasm and the Pits, they don't wanna run the risk of asking a LOA member) (If I remember right Cass grew around the Pits for a while and was even tossed in them after a fight with Shiva)

Tim also brings them news that Danielle's body is rapidly destabilizing due to her body/hormones trying to 'mature' her since she is at that age and she has less than a week.

Everyone knows there is no time to think of trying to save her in any other ways.

Tim says that if they do this, they have to technically 'remake' her body to the actual age she is (a couple months old/a few years old? Depends on the writer) and there was a high chance of her not remembering her old self. That the male DNA in her, the one that seemed to be the most is Daniel 'Danny' Fenton's DNA will be considered father DNA and if Cass does this, her's will be the mother DNA. (Vlad's DNA, because he would try to put his own in, would be 'pushed out')

Cass would become Dani's mother.

Both Cass and Dani talk about it.

Cass wants to help her, she had become friends with Dani and loves her like a little sister already but will try to love her as a daughter as well.

Dani wants to live an actual life.

They agree to it.

Tim sets everything up, Conner is helping around/keeping Dani comfortable/happy.

Cass told Steph and Babs whats happening and they're helping/being supportive once they find out everything.

Meanwhile Tim and Babs has Dick, and Damian go to Amity Park to find out whats happening there/bring Danny to her so they can explain what happened to Dani. (Dick and Damian have no clue why just yet but will find out when they get back, but oh boy is Amity a mess between the GIW, ecto-acts, crazy fruitloop mayor/villain ghost, and other stuff)

Cass and Tim tell Jason and he's helping Alfred (who basically already knows) set up a room for the newest arrival. Jason is gonna stick around if to just see Bruce's face when he gets called a 'grandpa' for the first time.

Duke takes this all in stride when told and just goes along with things now because this is life with the Batfam. He also helps with the room and keeping Dani company until the day.

Bruce was on a space mission thus comes home to find a new group of teens with his kids. One (with black hair and violet/purple eyes) is talking about a purple back gorillas with Damian and swapping vegan recipes, another (wearing a red beanie and has glasses) is getting into tech talk with Tim and Babs, a girl with red hair is talking classic books with Jason and giving Duke advice with school and stress, and another boy (one who could pass as one of his own adopted kids) is cracking jokes/puns with Dick, and telling Steph stories about his Rogues(!?).

Bruce isn't ready when Cass comes up behind him, nearly dancing in her spot and hands him something.

He is given a baby/toddler that looks like Cass but had darker hair and bright blue eyes.

He almost faints when Cass signs to him that he's holding his granddaughter, her baby.

He does faint when Cass notices the signs and takes her baby back before he falls over.

[tossawary]

It's funny to think about a scenario in which Luke manages to get Yoda off Dagobah and bring him back to the Rebellion. Maybe Obi-Wan left a message with R2 as a backup plan or something, so Luke got the message much earlier. Yoda is still too old and injured to fight, but he can train Luke while moving around as the Rebellion's new grandpa (and potentially reunite with characters like Ahsoka and Kanan and Cal and so on).

This AU is important to me because how it would look from an Outsider's POV:

"Uhhh, Luke," Han said. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Luke said, turning to look across the hangar bay. "Oh. That's Master Yoda. I went to Dagobah to get him, remember?"

Han studied the small, green, vaguely amphibious creature with long pointy ears and wisps of white hair, crouched underneath Luke's X-Wing and steadily eating its way though a bucket of... what the hell were those things? Eggs?

"That's your great Master Yoda?" Han said dubiously. He couldn't have helped it, so he didn't even try not to sound skeptical. "The one who's going to train you and Her Royal Highness in this... uh... penetrating life field magic?"

Those ragged brown blankets that it seemed to be wearing looked not unlike the dusty robes that Luke's old man had been shuffling around in, before getting killed back on the Death Star. Maybe.

"He's the wisest and most powerful Jedi Master alive," Luke said, like he was determined to be upbeat about it. "He's 900 years old. He said."

Han watched the creature dig around in the bucket some more, nearly sticking the entire upper half of its body inside. Its long ears wilted when it came up empty. It sat back with a loud, high-pitched harrumph and its wrinkled face scrunched up like a fruit rotting all at once.

"Yeah," Han said. "He looks it."

Luke shot him a betrayed look and Han just shrugged. He didn't have a problem with the kid and the princess finding some comfort in some hokey old religion. The kid's family had apparently been killed by troopers the day that Han had met him and Leia had watched her entire planet be destroyed, so whatever touchy-feely nonsense helped them deal with that helped.

But that didn't mean that Han wasn't going to call it like he saw it- "Uh, kid, is that your storage unit he's searching now?"

Luke groaned and put his head in his hands. "I left some ration bars in there, I think. I bet he can smell them."

This great Jedi Master was making a real mess of it. He threw one of Luke's things over his shoulder, where the tool hit R2-D2, and the small droid immediately let out a shocked series of beeps and chirps. The outraged blare when the droid traced the missile back to Yoda was even louder.

Han watched as the droid whirred briskly up to Yoda, then reached out with an extended grabber and yanked at the old Jedi's stick. Yoda shrieked in surprise. A tug-o-war started, which looked like it was going to have one or both of them falling over.

"Oh, no," Luke said.

People around the hangar bay were starting to stare. Han couldn't look away.

The droid released the wooden stick and Yoda let out a cry of triumph. Which turned into a yelp of pain, because R2-D2 had just zapped him with another extended tool, which crackled like a threat that the droid would do it again. Yoda's response was to smack the droid with his stick, repeatedly, grunting with the effort - and the loud clanging caught the attention of everyone who hadn't already been looking.

"You gonna, uh, you gonna do something about that?" Han said to the kid.

Luke sighed heavily, which definitely meant that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He stood up and waded into the mess, catching the stick with one hand and physically pushing the droid back with the other, ordering the old astromech and older Jedi Master to knock it off. He sounded just like a parent about to hand out some punishments.

R2-D2 beeped petulantly at Luke.

"I don't care who started it!" Luke said, his exasperation carrying. "This time or last time-! Ow!"

The great Jedi Master had just smacked Luke in the shin with that stick. Luke hopped on one foot for a few seconds, biting down on what probably would have been some nasty Huttese cursing. Yoda harrumphed again and then lurched back over towards his empty egg bucket.

R2-D2 made a sound that Han had, whether he liked it or not, already come to recognize meant: "I told you so."

"Oh, fuck off," Luke snapped.

Han threw back his head and laughed.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (36/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Lets get drunk part two - with new opportunities.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hah. you thought you'd seen the last of me. feedback is appreciated!

"Okay," says Charles and sits back down next to you on the sun bed. He sets the basket down between you, with the necks of various bottles sticking out of it. "Are you more of a vodka girl or a tequila girl?" He pulls out two bottles and holds them out to you. 

You examine the bottles before raising your hands. "Neither, to be honest." You carefully pull the basket towards you and take a look inside. Your hands turn the containers slowly so you can read the labels better, and when a bottle catches your eye, you grin at your roommate. "Here."

Charles takes the bottle you hold out to him. "Peach?" He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "Quite summery."

You shrug your shoulders. "You promised to take me with you next summer so I could go swimming in the sea. I just want to prepare myself properly."

A smile spreads across his face. "Touché. All right." He reaches into the basket and fishes out two small shot glasses. He places them at the head of the sun bed to fill them with the peach liqueur. "You'll love it here during the summer. The sun is blazing, the sea is cold and the days are long." He carefully slides a glass over to you so that the contents don't spill over the rim. "It's like paradise."

You nod gratefully at him. "So now you definitely don't have a choice."

He looks at you, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," you sit up straight and pick up the shot glass. "You talked me up about the boat and summer at sea so much that you definitely have to bring me here next year." You grin at him. "So you have no choice but to take me with you."

"Oh no." He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and reaches for his glass as well. "So I guess I can't get rid of you at all, huh?"

You shake your head excessively. "No fucking way. You definitely won't get me off this boat in the summer. And the deal about us sharing the apartment is on anyway." You tilt your head. "Even if you really tried, you wouldn't get rid of me that easily." You hold out your arm so he can clink glasses with you. 

He looks you in the eye. There's a sparkle in his green ones as he knocks his glass against yours. "Thank God."

The peach liqueur tastes indescribably good and the longer you lie on the sun bed looking at the glowing Monaco in front of you, the more you drink of it. The stars above you twinkle and although it's getting colder, you're nice and warm. Whether it's the alcohol or Charles' laughter, you don't know. 

"You've met Arthur yourself," he says as you have to press your face into the pillow to stop your laughter echoing across the ocean. "I swear, his April Fool's jokes are the worst! And you never see them coming!"

You giggle into your pillow. "Tell me you didn't fall for it." Hesitantly, you peek over the hem of the pillow to see Charles' blushing face. You quickly push it back into your face and laugh. "Oh, Charles!"

Your roommate grabs his own pillow and hits yours with it. "Don't laugh at me! You'll be affected soon enough! And then I'm not going to be the one to rescue you."

As you slowly calm down and wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes, you put the pillow back behind your head and look at him. "Trust me - by then Arthur will like me enough that we'll form an alliance. Then he certainly won't play any tricks on me."

Charles looks at you, dumbfounded. "Excuse me? I thought you and I were friends! You're supposed to stand on my side!" With a shake of his head, he reaches for the peach liqueur and refills your glasses.

You grin at him. "I don't form alliances with people who fall for stupid pranks like that."

He pushes your glass over to you. "All traitors." He shakes his head again. "I thought at least I had you on my side."

You raise your glass to your lips. "I'm always on your side, Charles. You're my best friend," you assure him, although the sentence leaves a nasty taste in your mouth. You wash it down with the liqueur. "But I'm not going to let Arthur take the piss just to make you feel better."

"You're a great best friend," he says and pours the liqueur into his mouth. "Just you wait and see. I won't save you if my brother does decide to play an April Fool's joke on you."

"You wouldn't dare," you reply with a grin. "Your mom would give you hell if she knew you were abandoning me." You grab the liqueur and fill your glasses again. "After all, she likes me better than you."

Charles watches you fill his glass to the brim. He presses his tongue into your cheek before licking his teeth. "I wish you were wrong." He holds out his arm for you to clink glasses with him. "Here's to my family liking you better than me."

You try to suppress your grin. "Don't worry, Charlie. I like you all the more for it," the alcohol speaks out of you and when you hear what you're saying, the blood rushes to your face. You quickly clink your glass against his and drink the liqueur so you don't have to look at the Monegasque in front of you. 

As he puts his empty glass down, he grins at you. "'Charlie'? You're really going to give me a nickname?"

You roll your eyes and run your fingers through your hair so he doesn't notice your nervousness. "Don't worry," you try to play it down. Thank goodness he can't hear your rapid heartbeat. "I only use it when it's just us."

When you look at Charles again, he smiles at you softly. "I like the name," he assures you. "And if it stays your little secret and mine, I like it even more. It belongs only to you. Only you can call me that."

You smile at him before leaning back into your pillow and looking up at the stars. The night is clear, there isn't a single cloud in the night sky and the sea breeze on your face cools your alcohol-warmed skin pleasantly. You feel Charles lie down as well. 

"Do you want to spend the night at my mother's tomorrow?" he asks quietly. When you turn your head in his direction, he's already looking at you. "I usually spend the night there. Maman always gets delicious wine and when we all get together, the evening gets pretty long." When you raise an eyebrow with a smile, he continues. "And there are plenty of rooms in the house. You're welcome to choose one of them. I'd hate to go back home for Christmas," he adds. "Especially because my mom would be alone and -"

"Charlie," you interrupt him. "We can spend the night at your mom's. There's nothing wrong with that." You wink at him. "Besides, I want to have a drink with Arthur and then I definitely can't go home."

He exhales with relief. "Very good." He turns his head forward and looks up at the stars too. "It's going to be a nice evening. My maman cooks delicious food and then we always play something. It's usually Uno or charades. You've heard how Monopoly turns out for us."

You have to giggle. "I would really like to play Monopoly with you," you admit quietly. "And I would never steal money from the bank either."

Charles exhales. "I'll take your word for that. But Arthur is more cunning than you think. He would steal money from the bank and make it look like it was you. You definitely don't want to play Monopoly with him."

You shrug your shoulders. "Then again, maybe I'm smarter than you give me credit for." You look up at the night sky again. "Maybe I can outsmart Arthur and win."

Your roommate laughs out loud. "Then you'd have to get past me first. And I'm certainly not going to let you win just like that. Not after you said you'd team up with my brother and not stand by me when he pulls his April Fool's pranks."

Offended, you reach behind your head for your pillow to smash it into his face, but Charles is quicker and snatches the pillow out of your hand before you can hit him with it. "You suck, Charlie."

"You love me. Just admit it," he grins and hesitantly gives you your pillow back, risking being exposed to your attack again. 

But you merely wrap your arms around the pillow and hug it to your chest. Even through the feathers inside, you can feel how fast your heart is beating. 

"Of course," you try to play down the swirling feelings inside you and hope that he doesn't notice the trembling in your voice. Or the truth in your words. "I'll still try to beat you at Monopoly. Or Uno. Or charades." Offended, you lie back on your pillow and cross your arms in front of your chest. 

Charles sits up again and refills your shot glasses. He pushes it towards you like a peace offering. "Maybe I'll let you win," he smiles as you look at him. "After all, Christmas is the festival of love and I -" he continues, but is interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. 

You look at him in confusion. You'd love to know how he would have finished the sentence. "You have reception out here?" you ask him as he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. 

The Monegasque shakes his head and shows you his phone screen. "I had set an alarm clock."

You raise an eyebrow. "For what?" 

He points to the time with his finger. It's midnight and therefore officially Christmas. He looks at you with a grin. "I have a Christmas present for you." 

As he gets up from the sun bed and staggers onto the wood of the deck, you look at him indignantly. "No way," you reply, annoyed. "If I can't give you a present, then you can't give me one either." 

"Calm down, mon ami," he says, swaying slightly from left to right as he circles you. The alcohol seems to have hit him hard too. "I'll be right back." Without another word, he disappears into the interior of the yacht, leaving you on the sun bed. 

Annoyed, you sit up. 

The fact that you're not allowed to give him a present has almost ruined your friendship. Just the memory of his words that he wants nothing from you but your friendship sends a cold shiver down your spine. You would love to tell him that you want more from him than friendship, that you desire him, that you want him for yourself - that you love him - but no amount of money in the world would make you reveal your feelings to him. If he actually knew how you felt about him, you would certainly lose the only good thing in your life. And you wouldn't risk that under any circumstances. 

You run your fingers nervously through your hair. What could he possibly give you? You've never mentioned anything to him that he could possibly buy. And there's no way he'd change his mind in a day and confess his love for you. You'd have to be incredibly naive to believe that. 

It's not his fault that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you do about him. It's not his fault that his words have torn your heart apart. And it's not his fault that he can't take your feelings into consideration if you don't tell him about them. 

You take a deep breath and smile at him as he rejoins you. In his hand, he holds a brown envelope, which he hands to you as he drops back onto the sun bed next to you. When you look at him uncertainly, he nods at you. "Merry Christmas, mon ami."

Hesitantly, you open the envelope and pull out several pages of paper, held together at the top left corner by a paper clip. You immediately recognize your name on the first page, with Charles written underneath. The rest is written in French, which is why you look at your roommate even more confused than before. "What's this?"

Irritated, he takes the pages from your hand and lets his eyes wander over the letters for a moment before he hits his forehead a little too hard with the palm of his hand. "Shit. I thought they'd printed it out in English," he says, handing the papers back to you. I'm really sorry."

You raise an eyebrow. "And what's this?" Your eyes wander over the paper, trying to identify any of the words, until you unsuccessfully put the papers down in front of you. 

"This, mon ami, is an employment contract," he explains with a smile and leans back a little. 

"An employment contract?"

" Mh-hmm." He licks his lips once. "Remember when Joris mentioned that he had a new job?"

You nod. Of course you remember. 

After you'd been to the place where Charles had been with his father in the past, you both went to Joris' and had lunch there. Joris had told you that he was starting a new job and when you had been there to burn Annika's things, he had talked about it too. 

"Well," Charles says hesitantly. "Joris was my personal photographer. And now that he can no longer work for me and accompany me around the world because of his new job, I thought - well - maybe you'd like to be my new photographer. You - um - you don't have a job at the moment and - well - I thought it would be cool if you and I worked together," he babbles in one breath, blood rushing to his cheeks. "You'd travel with me to the Formula 1 races and take photos there, but of course you'd also spend a lot of time with me in private. Which would be a good fit, as you and I live together anyway and the fans loved the photo you took of me at the lookout point. And the one you just took of me turned out great too."

Your breath is stuck in your lungs. 

Charles wants you to work for him? That you photograph him so he can post the pictures on Instagram? That you fly around the world with him? 

You'd love to throw your arms around his neck with joy, but you just grin at him. "Are you serious?" When he nods, you squeal with excitement. "You're really serious, Charlie? You really want me to work for you?"

"Of course," he admits openly and smiles at you. "You and I are best friends. Why would I want to work with someone else when I have the perfect and best photographer literally sitting right in front of me? I'd be pretty stupid to ask anyone else."

Carefully and with shaky hands, you put the documents back in the envelope. "I - thank you. I don't even know what to say."

"Just say yes." He leans a little to the side so that he can push your full shot glass over to you. "You'll travel around the world with me, get paid incredibly well and spend a lot of time with me. I'll cover the travel expenses, of course. All you have to do is take good photos of me."

You look at him in amazement. "I'm getting paid and you're still covering the travel costs?"

Your flatmate laughs out loud. "Of course! What do you think? Whether I give you more salary so you can pay for your flights and everything yourself, or whether I pay you everything, it's the same in the end."

Heat shoots into your face. "Then at least let me give you money for the rent. Now that I have a job again."

He shakes his head vehemently. "Absolutely not. The money is yours, you can do anything you want with it."

"Except pay the rent," you reply and get his pillow thrown in your face. 

"Exactly. Everything except pay the rent," he assures you. "So, what do you say, mon ami? Do you fancy exploring the world with me?"

You nod with a grin. "Definitely." You raise your shot glass. "Thank you, Charlie. That's the best Christmas present I've ever been given."

A blush creeps into his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Really?"

You nod with a smile. "Definitely. I can't thank you enough for that." 

The thought of being permanently close to Charles scares you as much as it makes you happy. As his best friend, you're looking forward to spending every minute with him, traveling the world and discovering the most beautiful places. And getting paid for it too. 

As the woman who loves him, you're a little worried about what will happen if he meets someone he falls in love with while you're traveling. You don't want to imagine the pain if he gets into a committed relationship with someone and all you can do is stand on the sidelines and watch him be happy. There's no question that he deserves to be happy - but the thought that the person he's falling in love with isn't you makes you feel sick. 

You try to suppress the thought and smile bravely at him. "It's absolutely the best present. Thank you so much, Charlie. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

There is a loving sparkle in his eyes. "I'd do anything for you." Before he picks up his glass as well, he pulls out his cell phone again and taps on it. "Can I post it like this?" he asks you and holds his phone out to you. His screen shows the picture you just took, with a simple caption. 

You shrug your shoulders. "I think so. But do you think it's a good idea to post something when you've had so much alcohol?" you ask him with a grin. 

"Oh nonsense," he grins at you and taps his phone one last time before activating the keypad lock and putting it back in his pocket. "I only have good ideas when I'm drunk." He reaches for his shot glass and holds it out to you so you can clink glasses. "I'm glad you said yes. I can hardly wait." 

"Me neither," you reply with a smile. 

He takes a deep breath before his eyes search yours. He would love to put the glasses aside, pull you onto his lap and kiss you until you can't breathe, until the sun rises, until the world ends. But that's just the alcohol whispering to him, he thinks. 

He knocks his glass against yours. "Here's to us."

-

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others tagged: yourusername charles_leclerc: ma mère approuve

[ghostbsuter]

Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.

Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.

The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.

Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.

"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.

"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"

The vigilante grunts. "Joker."

"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"

He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.

(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)

"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.

It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.

"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"

A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.

(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)

"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.

Which brings another question.

Son?

Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.

Joker and Harley have a child. A son.

He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.

"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.

(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)

"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.

"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."

(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)

"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—

His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!

"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.

"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.

Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.

"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."

The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.

"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!

(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)

Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.

Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.

Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.

He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.

"Have fun bats and birds!"

The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?

It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.

An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.

Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.

He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.

"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.

Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.

Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons - Part 10

WC: 817, Masterpost

Jason sighed as the tablet in his hands flashed with alerts. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“How did the meeting with Black Bat go?” Bruce asked instead of responding, because of course he did.

“You know it went fine,” Jason said, trying not to snap. “Besides, everyone likes her, there was a good chance it was always going to go fine.”

“We both know trauma isn’t always that easy,” Bruce said, his tone carefully modulated to be gentle. It rankled Jason, like it always did.

Jason took a breath and let his chin drop to his chest for a moment. Bruce didn’t mean it like that. He knew that now. This was Bruce trying as best as he was able— it wasn’t just another mask. Bruce just had to put effort into emotions that made it seem forced. Jason pushed away his flair of temper; it was harder to do than he’d like after too much worry and too little sleep.

“Ja—”

“I’m fine. It’s just like you said, trauma isn’t always that easy. I’m fine,” Jason said as he waved the concern away. “And names. You know we’re sticking to code names still.”

Bruce tilted his head, observing Jason through the white lenses. (That used to rankle too.)

“You thinking there’s a chance he’ll run.”

Jason sighed. He gave an exaggerated shrug to cover the worry that ran through him at the question. “Not run, exactly. I think he doesn’t believe that he can stay— that it’s even on the table. I think that we’re his last hope and he doesn’t believe in hope anymore.”

Bruce didn’t move. Jason gave him time to think that over.

“That’s why he doesn’t want to see… Wayne,” Bruce said, slowly, like he was feeling the idea out. “He doesn’t expect to get anything from him so it’s better to be healed up first.”

Jason shrugged again.

“Figure so. But also once that meeting happens, whatever happens, then all of this,” Jason motioned to the safe house, “is over as far as he knows. If he puts off the meeting, he puts off the risk of losing the first safety that I think he’s hand in a long, long time.”

Bruce’s shoulders hunched and he almost blended back into the shadows by the window. “If he’s already posed for it to go badly…”

“B, that’s not your fault,” Jason said— had to say. “The kid’s been through hell, maybe by his own family, of course he’s going to expect the worst.”

It was a long moment and then Bruce nodded, just once. “What’s the plan?”

If Jason really had his way, the plan would be to deal with all these ill feelings, but that’s not what anyone in the family was good at, him included. It would be what it would be.

“We’ll have BB over again for a meal tomorrow. I’m sure it will keep going well and she can help be on watch that night. We think it’s best to give that a few days before we introduce O or anyone else new, so you have to keep the rest of the horde reigned in,” Jason said pointedly. Then a though occurred to him. “Where is the little spawn anyways?”

“He’s on the roof across the block.”

“Yeah, is he? Because that was a lot of alerts—”

“Hood!”

Jason didn’t think before he was striding across the room towards Danny’s room. The kid was standing in the door. White hair stark in the low light. Green eyes bright.

Glowing.

Wide with fear.

“Danny?”

“Someone else is here,” Danny said. His voice was almost too quiet to hear, but Jason could half swear he felt it in his very bones. Danny reached out and clung onto the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie. A cold settled into Jason’s bones along with the vibration of the soft words. “Someone touched by death. Can you feel them too? They’re not not like us. They haven’t died. They haven’t died, but they reek of death. Hood, what are they?”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here, remember?” Jason assured Danny automatically. The words rolled out of his mouth without Jason having to even think about them, which was good, because Jason’s mind was still caught on Danny’s words: They’re not like us. They haven’t died. “Some Bats just stopped by to check on us.”

Was it Bruce? Did all of Gotham’s death cling to his shoulders like his cape?

Was it Damian? Was it the stench of the Pits?

Or did Jason miss something else slipping in with all of the other alarms.

“We’ll go check on Nightwing together, alright? I bet he has a little red and black guest who slipped in,” Jason said. He twisted his hand to hold Danny’s. The cold bit at his skin. He didn’t let go.

He hoped he was right.

He had a hard time believing in hope too.

---

AN: A myyyyyyyystery *wiggly fingers*. Gods I'm so tired.

I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!

[revelboo]

im 110% gonna take pictures of lego beebs once i build him nstuff BUT. BUTT. i found out the tfa constructicons just full on have plumbers cracks; the allspark almanac is full of all sorts of weird little gems gdshgjkmdsg- wanted to share since their idw counterparts got their moment to shine

Oh, no. Yikes, they’re- just, no 😂 thanks, I hate it

Drive Pt 2

Constructicons x Reader

• “What do you think the boss meant? About fragging humans?” Long Haul asks, looking from Hook to Scrapper. Because one of them must know. “Cause it sounded like somebody is.” Which makes no sense whatsoever. Sure, it’s fun enough to chase and terrorize them, but they’re not really sturdy enough for that. And far too small. Leaning over the berth where Hook had laid their human, he nudges you with a servo, fascinated despite himself with how soft you are.

• Aware of the speculative way Mixmaster, Long Haul, and Scavenger are studying you, Hook vents. “No one’s fragging humans.” Probably. But who knew? With the things he’s seen in Medbay, it honestly wouldn’t surprise him one bit. It’s not like it was that long ago that Wildrider was dragged into into Medbay by two of the other Stunticons with his spike wedged in a section of oversized concrete pipe and a lot of attitude about it. Most of it angry and sullen. And they look down on them. At least they don’t try scrap like that.

• Everything hurts as you shift, aware that you’re lying on something hard. Whimpering when something hard bumps you and rolls you onto your back. Eyes squinting open, your heart stutters in your chest as three vibrantly green monsters loom over you. “It’s awake,” one of them says, a giant servo still outstretched. Screaming, you roll and go sprawling when you try to lunge to your hands and knees. “And loud,” the same one growls with a laugh as your eyes water at the throbbing in your ankle. Broken? Sprained? Trying to crawl away only to have one grab you by that leg and drag you back as you scream.

• “Leave it,” Scrapper growls, venting as Long Haul keeps rolling you onto your back as you panic before pinning you flat under his hand. And you’re screaming again. “What did I just say? Leave it alone.” Glowering until Long Haul huffs and lets you go and then Scrapper has to pin you on your belly when you try to scramble away, noticing you’re pretty much dragging one leg. And he almost feels bad. Almost. “Pet’s broken, Hook.”

• Pet? “I’m not a pet,” you whisper, eyes watering as you’re gently pinned flat, the pressure enough to make it hard to breathe but not crush you. And then a new one is running his big servos over you, ignoring when you fight his examination. Hearing him venting as he touches your ankle and you cry out. “Stop!” He ignores that too, carefully manipulating your foot as you sob.

• “Don’t be so dramatic.” You’re leaking as Hook checks your ankle, but really? He has no idea what to look for. If it’s broken or not. Knows next to nothing about humans. “Be still,” he snarls as you struggle, leaning over you and smacking his other fist against the berth and you finally stop, eyes wide and heart beating frantically against his servos. “Maybe broken from the fall,” he tells Scrapper with a shrug. “I don’t fix humans.” A warm, little hand lands on his servo, trying to push him away in vain. Those terrified eyes overflowing and pained.

• “Can I play with it?” Scavenger asks, leaning his arms on the berth you’d been placed on. Aware of his brothers crowding around to see. As soon as Hook removes his servo, you curl up on your side, arms over your head and legs pulled tight to your body and his amusement fades. Because you’re even smaller up close, with tiny breakable bones and soft flesh. That’s discolored in places from their handling and the fall. And the sound you’re making? That hitching, broken sound of fear as you shake violently? He hates the way it makes his spark twist and ache and looking up at his brothers, he sees their uncertainty on how to deal with this. That it’s not fun anymore. Hesitant, he reaches out to run his servo against your spine. Sees Mixmaster touch your hair and Long Haul stroke an arm as you cringe into a tighter ball. Bonecrusher brushes against him, reaching to touch your hip while Scrapper and Hook watch and exchange a look.

Previous

Next

[schemmentigfs]

Sweetening The Deal. (part 8.)

Summary: you officially move in to Melissa Schemmenti’s penthouse while waiting for your shared escape to Italy. Meanwhile, the redhead has a important conversation with a special someone.

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @greencurlyhair @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

The movers came right at noon, their hulking figures unloading the truck’s contents with practiced efficiency. Melissa Schemmenti stood near the entrance of her sleek penthouse, arms crossed and directing them like a general. Her dark, tailored pantsuit, sunglasses, ponytail and sharp heels added to the commanding air she carried so effortlessly. You trailed behind her, still adjusting to the surreal situation of moving into her home—her penthouse, no less. This wasn’t just a new address; it was a new life entirely.

Boxes of your belongings, marked with hasty scribbles in black marker, were placed carefully inside the massive space. It felt strange seeing your old things—a worn lamp, a stack of books with peeling covers, and even that rickety little chair you refused to part with—scattered against the pristine marble floors and towering glass windows that framed the Philadelphian city skyline.

As much as you were trying to hide your uneasiness and fear, the older woman noticed your distant gaze and turned to you, frowning slightly worried if anything seemed out of order or bothering you. “What’s wrong? Something is worrying you?”

You jumped and hid your hands behind your back, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… it’s weird seeing all my stuff here. Like it doesn’t actually belong to this world.”

Sharp features softened, green eyes meeting yours. “It belongs because you belong here, Y/N,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

“I guess,” you couldn’t argue with her—not when she looked at you like that, her confidence in her decision was so unshakable. The movers worked efficiently, but one of them accidentally bumped a white vase with flowers that Melissa had on a side table—a gift from her Nonna before she passed away years ago. She hissed under her breath, muttering something in Italian that you didn’t quite catch, but it sounded pissed.

“You know,” she said suddenly, turning to you as if struck by an idea. “We should go back to your old place. Make sure we didn’t forget anything.”

“My crappy apartment? Schemmenti, we didn’t forget anything. That place doesn’t exactly scream sentimental value.”

Her lips curved into a smirk. “Even so. Let’s make sure.”

The apartment complex felt smaller than you remembered. The once spacious rooms now seemed tight and suffocating, the walls closing in as you walked through the space. The wallpaper was peeling in large, uneven patches, revealing the dull plaster underneath. It looked tired, worn-out—just like the rest of the apartment. The once bright paint had faded over time, and the broken, flickering light bulbs did little to push back the shadows that seemed to cling to every corner. A faint, persistent smell of mildew filled the air, a reminder that the place had been left to deteriorate for far too long.

The kitchen, though small, had once been full of life, but now the counters were cluttered with stale crumbs and old dishes. The floor had been scuffed by years of use, and the cabinets creaked in protest when you opened them. The apartment was a shell of what it had been, a far cry from the airy, modern luxury of Melissa’s place.

And still, she wasn’t fazed. She had already been here with you months ago, before the move was decided, before your life had started to shift. She had seen the cracks in the walls, the way the apartment had become a haven for forgotten things, the place where you’d lived alone after everything had fallen apart. Still, it was as if this was the last step in the process—one more goodbye before she could take you to where you truly belonged.

You didn’t need to say it aloud; she had seen it, too. The emptiness here. The way it felt smaller and smaller every time you came back. Still, she didn’t complain. She never did. Her olive eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the space with a strange combination of detachment and intent, as though she were inspecting a crime scene. You followed her through the living room and into the kitchen, where the dull hum of the fridge was the only sound filling the air.

She was already moving with purpose, as though the place were nothing but a task to be handled, a box to check off. When she reached the counter, her hand stopped on a half-eaten piece of pizza, still on the table from the last time you’d lived here and had a poor meal before a day at work. It had clearly been forgotten, the cheese now hardened and the crust brittle, a sad reminder of meals that hadn’t been finished.

You watched as the older woman picked it up, her face scrunching up in mild disgust. “Uh, you should have some manners, doll. Leave the mess behind. You won’t be eating like this in my home,” she muttered under her breath before tossing the pizza into the trash can. The sound of it hitting the bottom was almost jarring in the silence.

As she stood there for a moment, wiping her hands on her pants, you couldn’t help but notice how out of place she looked in this run-down apartment. She was a woman of sharp edges, of clean lines, and this space—this was not her world. Still, she didn’t flinch, didn’t complain. She simply moved on, moving through the space with a cool, controlled presence, trying her best to ignore how everything around her seemed to scream of a time when you hadn’t been with her yet.

The movers had arrived, and their footsteps echoed throughout the space as they began to carefully carry out what was left of your precious belongings. Their eyes darted toward Melissa from time to time, taking in her sharp presence, the way she stood at the center of everything, so sure of herself, of what she was doing. A few of them smiled shyly, though they quickly looked away when they saw her catching their gaze. She didn’t need to say a word for them to know they had overstepped.

The redheaded woman rolled her eyes, a quick, annoyed gesture that revealed just a flicker of the jealousy from you she couldn’t fully hide. The workers may have been just doing their job, but in her mind, they were eyeing what was hers—what she was taking from this place.

You noticed the way she stiffened, just for a second, as the movers continued with their work. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but you could see it—the subtle twitch of her jaw, the way her gaze flickered to the men as they worked. She didn’t want to let it show, but you knew. You knew how she felt, how protective she could be when it came to you.

Trying to focus on anything else, Melissa made her way to the bedroom, where a few old pieces of furniture remained. She didn’t even look at you as she moved, her attention fully absorbed by the task at hand. You followed her, a mix of apprehension and sorrow bubbling up in your chest as the space grew emptier with every passing minute.

In the bedroom, you caught sight of her rifling through a drawer, her fingers pausing on an old photograph—a relic from your past. It was a picture of you and an old friend from years ago. The friend had moved across the country long before you and Melissa Schemmenti had met, but the photo had stayed. You hadn’t been able to part with it, not yet.

Her gaze softened, but only for a moment. She held up the picture, her eyes scanning it as though deciding what to do with it. “This,” she said, her voice low but firm, “shouldn’t stay here.”

You swallowed, your throat tight. “It’s just a stupid photo,” you whispered, though you could tell it wasn’t just a photo. It was a piece of your past, a reminder of someone you used to be.

Eyebrows were raised, a small but knowing smirk tugging at pink lips. “It’s your photo, mia amore. That makes it important.”

Melissa folded it up carefully and slipped it into her bag, her fingers brushing the edge of the picture one last time before she put it away. Her actions were so final, so deliberate, that it almost felt like she was closing a door on something you hadn’t been ready to let go of.

The poor movers, oblivious to the emotional undercurrent, continued to haul your things out of the apartment. You could hear the hum of their voices as they worked, but everything felt distant. The room was growing emptier, and you were reminded of how much you were leaving behind. It was more than just stuff, and you knew it, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to admit it.

“It’s just stuff,” you murmured under your breath, as though saying the words could somehow make them true.

But of course, your lover—if that was an appropriate title to call her and define the dynamic between you, caught the muttered words. She always did. Without hesitation, she rested her manicured hand on your shoulder, her touch firm and grounding. “It’s more than stuff,” she started, quieter, gentler. “But you don’t have to look back, cara mia. From now on, you’re with me.”

You didn’t need to say anything in response. The weight of her words, the certainty in her touch, was enough. You were leaving this place behind, but you weren’t leaving it alone.

The day had been exhausting, and by the time the two of you returned to Melissa Schemmenti’s penthouse, the weight of moving and memories had left a heavy quiet between you. Later that night, the faint aroma of freshly baked lasagna filled the minimalist kitchen that was two times larger than your old home. Melissa had insisted on cooking something decent on her own—she said it was her way of celebrating the move, of grounding you in your new home. You didn’t argue. After hours of packing, moving, and unpacking, you were too tired to do anything but sit back and let her take over. There were still a lot of things that needed packaging and organization but you didn't care about it now.

The lasagna, rich and comforting, was just the way you liked it—savory and hearty, with layers of cheese that melted perfectly against the meat sauce. It was a familiar dish, one of the first things your sugar mommy had ever made for you, and it brought with it a sense of home that was hard to ignore.

You took a bite, savoring the flavor as you leaned back in your chair, your legs stretched out lazily underneath the table. The beer bottles from the celebratory moment earlier sat empty on the counter, the buzz from the alcohol still humming in your veins. It was a bittersweet kind of celebration, both of excitement for the future and the sorrow of saying goodbye to so much of the past.

She sat across from you, her gaze sharp but soft, watching you intently. She had been unusually quiet, focused on you, on the way your lips curved with each bite of food, as though trying to keep you in the present moment, away from the ghosts of the past.

Speaking of her, Melissa was stunning tonight, though she didn’t seem to notice. Her auburn hair was swept back in a loose bun, strands escaping to frame her sharp features. She wore a casual button-up shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing just a hint of skin that you tried not to stare at too much. But the more you tried not to look, the harder it became.

Green eyes lingered on you as you took another bite, her fork paused mid-air like she’d forgotten about her own meal. There was a softness in her eyes, a kind of raw intensity that made your cheeks flush even in the dim light.

“What?” you asked, smiling nervously, the beer loosening your tongue.

Melissa set her fork down and leaned forward, her lips curling into that half-smirk that always made your stomach flip. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how good you look tonight.”

You felt the heat rise to your face, and suddenly, the room felt too small, too warm. You reached for your glass, taking a sip to distract yourself, but her eyes stayed on you, unyielding and full of something deeper than admiration.

As the meal wound down, the silence between bites stretched into something heavier, something charged. At one point, you reached for your beer just as the older woman reached for her wine, your hands brushing briefly. It was nothing, just a simple touch, but it sent a spark through your veins, and you both froze for a moment, locked in place as if the whole air had been sucked out of the room.

“Uh. Lasagna’s good,” you said finally, your voice a little too loud, a little too shaky.

“Glad you think so. Made it special tonight.”

“For me?” you teased, but your voice came out softer, more vulnerable than you intended.

“For you,” she confirmed, her tone dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

And then, as if by some invisible force pulling you both together, she leaned over the table, her hand brushing against yours, her lips hovering just a breath away. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until she closed the distance, her mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was as soft as it was consuming.

The world melted away for a moment, the taste of her white wine and your beer mingling as her lips moved against yours, slow and hungry. There was a hesitation, though—an unspoken restraint that neither of you dared to break. She moaned softly when you bit her lower lip and in that fleeting second, something shifted in you. The desire swelled, overwhelming, but you held back, knowing how much you wanted this—needed this connection.

Your pulse raced, and you couldn't help but think how badly you wanted to make love to Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti right now, to let go of every lingering doubt, every hesitation. To feel her body pressed against yours in the way only she could make you feel—alive, consumed. But there was something else in the air tonight, something delicate that begged for patience, for a gentler pace.

Still, you couldn’t deny it. You wanted her. More than you could put into words.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, your eyes searching hers for some kind of confirmation, some kind of permission to let go of the tension that had been building all night.

But the redheaded woman cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed, and reached for her napkin. “You’re drunk,” she signed, steadier than she felt.

“I’m not that drunk,” you protested, though the heat in your cheeks and the slight slur in your words betrayed you.

Instead, Melissa laughed, but it was tight, her sharp fingernails drumming lightly on the table as if trying to distract herself. “We still have a lot to do tomorrow. Don’t get ahead of yourself, hon.”

You smiled, but there was something in her tone, something in the way her gaze flickered away from yours, that made you realize she was fighting the same urge you were. The desire hung heavy between you, unspoken but clear, and it took every ounce of willpower for both of you to let it lie, untouched, for now.

Later, as she helped you to the spare bedroom, your steps unsteady from the beer, she caught you looking at her with that same heated gaze, the one that had been following her all night. She shook her head, more to herself than to you, and muttered. “You’re a pain in my fuckin’ ass, you know that?”

“A pain in the ass in a good way?” you quip, your voice sleepy but still playful.

Melissa didn’t answer, just pulled the covers over you and brushed a strand of hair from your face, her fingers lingering for a moment too long. “Sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, baby.”

But as she lay beside you later that night for comfort, her thoughts refused to quiet. The kiss lingered in her mind, the taste of you, the feel of you so close but still just out of reach. She loved you—she was certain of that—but the weight of that realization was almost too much to bear.

Her heart raced as she stared at the ceiling, panic rising in her chest like a wave threatening to pull her under. Without thinking, she slipped out of bed, grabbing her coat and keys. She needed air. She needed clarity.

It wasn’t long before the Italian found herself standing outside Barbara Howard’s door, her hand hesitating before knocking. The quiet neighborhood seemed to hold its breath as she finally rapped her knuckles against the wood.

When her long time friend and confidant opened the wooden door, her kind eyes immediately softened. “Melissa?” she asked, gentle but curious. “It’s midnight. What on earth are you—”

“I—” She began, her voice cracking slightly. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I need to talk to you, B. I’m losing my freakin’ mind over here.”

Barb stepped aside, motioning for her to come in. “Come on, then. Let’s figure this out, sweetheart.”

Melissa stepped inside, the weight of the night finally catching up to her as she sat down, her head in her hands. “I think I’m in over my head.” She sat on the worn but comfortable couch, her fingers gripping the edge of her coat. The familiar scent of lavender from Barbara’s diffuser filled the room, grounding her just enough to speak, though her voice came out strained and heavy.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair, which was messier than usual from the anxiety of the night.

Barbara, seated in her armchair with her legs crossed, leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped together. Her face was the picture of calm, a quiet invitation for her dear friend to take her time.

“I’m... I’m in this thing,” Melissa started, gesturing vaguely. “It started as a sugar mommy deal—an arrangement. She needed the money, I had the money. Simple, clean, no strings attached. But...” She paused, her throat tightening as she thought of your sweet, innocent face.

The brunette raised an eyebrow, her lips pursing slightly. “But?”

“But it didn’t stay that way. I thought I could keep it professional, y’know? Keep it about the money. But she’s... different. She’s smart, she’s funny, and she’s so damn stubborn sometimes it drives me nuts, but I can’t stop thinking about her. And suddenly I’m sitting, watching her eat lasagna, looking at me like I hung the moon, and I’m thinking, what the fuck am I doing?”

Barb let out a soft hum, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Melissa Schemmenti, I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve got a soft heart under all that bravado. What’s really bothering you?”

Melissa swallowed hard, her fingers tightening their grip on her coat. “It’s not just her. It’s everything. My family, the business... my ma. She’s getting worse.”

“Teresa?” the tone shifted, laced with quiet concern.

The redhead nodded, her jaw tightening. “Yeah. The dementia’s really setting in. Some days, she doesn’t even know who I am. And when she does, it’s not good, B. She’s mean, like always, but it’s different now. She’s confused, and it’s like... she’s still trying to control everything, even when she can’t remember why.”

“That must be hard, dear. For all of you.”

“It is,” Melissa admitted, breaking slightly. “And then there’s the rest of the family. You know the Schemmentis—always in each other’s business, always about the food, the reputation, the legacy. They act like I owe them something just because I’m the one who’s ‘made it.’” She threw up her hands in frustration. “And now, with Ma the way she is, they’re all looking at me like I’m supposed to fix everything. Like I’m the one who has to hold it all together.”

The eldest sighed deeply, her head shaking slowly. “Mel, that’s a lot to carry on your own.”

“That’s the thing, Barb. I’m not sure I can carry it. I’ve been trying to keep it together for so long, but it’s like... it’s all slipping through my fingers. And then there’s her—” Melissa stopped, her voice catching as she thought of you. “I promised her an escape. Lake Como, Italy. She’s never been, and I thought... I thought maybe if I could just get us out of here, away from all this mess, we could start over. Maybe I could have a life that’s just ours. But now, I don’t know if I can even make it happen. The family’s got their claws in everything. They’re watching my every move. I can’t breathe without them knowing.”

Barbara sat back in her chair, her lips pursed as she absorbed everything. “Melissa,” she said finally, her tone even but firm, “it sounds like you’re trying to be everything to everyone. That’s not sustainable.”

“I don’t have a choice!” she shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. She immediately softened, sighing heavily. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to... It’s just—she’s the one good thing I’ve got right now, hun. And I’m terrified I’m gonna screw it up, just like everything else.”

The brunette leaned forward, resting a gentle hand on the poor woman’s knee. “You’re not screwing anything up. You’re human. But you can’t pour from an empty cup. If you’re going to make this work—with her, with your family, with yourself—you need to let someone help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Melissa stared at her for a long moment, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not good at asking for help,” she sighed quietly.

“No, you’re not. But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Red lips twitched into a reluctant smile, though her olive eyes were still heavy with emotion. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Barbara squeezed her knee gently before standing. “Let me make you some tea. You’re staying here tonight. You can’t fix everything in one night, sweetheart. But you can start by getting some rest.”

The redhead opened her mouth to protest, but her friend shot her a look that silenced her immediately. She leaned back into the couch with a sigh, letting the weight of the night settle as Barb moved to the kitchen. For the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she didn’t have to carry it all on her own.

Back to the penthouse as the first light of dawn streamed through the curtains, painting the room in hues of pale orange and gold, you stirred awake, groggy from the beers you’d indulged in the night before, your head heavy but your thoughts immediately searching for the precious redhead woman.

Rolling over in the massive bed, you frowned when you realized her side was empty. The sheets were cool to the touch, and a pang of unease prickled in your chest.

“Mel?” you called out, your voice raspy from sleep. No response.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you padded barefoot across the plush carpet, glancing around the penthouse. The space was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. You made your way to the living room just as the elevator chimed softly, and the doors slid open.

Melissa stepped out, still in the same coat she’d left in last night, her red hair slightly disheveled and dark circles under her eyes. She stopped short when she saw you standing there, her expression shifting into something tender.

“Hey, what are you doin’ up?” she askedp as she dropped her keys on the console table.

You crossed the room without hesitation, wrapping your arms around her tightly. She froze for a second, surprised by the intensity of your hug, before her arms came around you, pulling you close. Her hands rested firmly against your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head.

“I woke up, and you weren’t here,” you whispered, muffled against her coat.

“I’m here now,” your sugar mommy said softly, her hand moving to stroke your messy hair. “Had some stuff to clear my head. That’s all.”

You pulled back just enough to look at her, your brows furrowed in concern. “Schemmenti..”

She silenced you with a small smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m fine. Promise. But how ‘bout we do somethin’ to start the day off right? What d’ya say we hit the pool?”

The suggestion made your lips curl into a faint smile. “The pool? Now?”

“Why not?” the older woman said, smirking slightly. “Sun’s comin’ up. It’s quiet. We’ll have it all to ourselves.”

The idea of floating in the serene water with her sounded perfect, so you nodded. “Okay. Let me grab my bikini.”

As you turned to head upstairs, Melissa’s hand casually drifted down to rest on your lower back. She let it slide lower as you walked ahead, her fingers deliberately brushing against your ass.

You gasped, glancing over your shoulder at her with a deadly glare. “Really?”

She shrugged, her smirk growing. “Just checkin’ the goods. What? I’m your sugar mommy, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you hurried upstairs to change. Behind you, the redhead stood there for a moment, shaking her head with a grin she couldn’t suppress.

“Impossible,” she muttered fondly to herself before heading to the kitchen to grab towels for the two of you.

The pool glistened under the mid-morning sunlight, its surface a tranquil expanse of blue. You were sprawled out on a large inflatable float, lazily drifting across the water with a paperback in hand. The cover read The Price of Salt— the same book Melissa Schemmenti made fly on the floor like it was nothing and your voice carried softly across the quiet space as you read aloud.

“They were looking at each other, and it was as if someone had pulled a curtain back...” you trailed off, biting your lip as you processed the passage.

Melissa, lounging nearby with a glass of iced tea in hand, raised an eyebrow at you. “Let me guess,” she said dryly, “you’re gonna tell me this is like us.”

You smirked, lowering the book just enough to meet her gaze. “It is like us. Carol is sophisticated, gorgeous, a little intimidating... and Therese? She’s young, creative, figuring her life out. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

The forty-five year old snorted, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, except for one thing.”

“What’s that?” you asked, already knowing she had some jab lined up.

“Therese probably knows how to swim.”

You scowled, sitting up slightly on the float. “I can swim. Kind of.”

Melissa rolled her eyes, setting her glass down and standing. She sauntered over to the edge of the pool, her hands on her hips as she looked down at you. “You can’t even dog paddle, bambi. What’re you gonna do in Lake Como? Sit in the boat lookin’ pretty while I do all the work?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you refused to back down. “Maybe I’ll just stay on the shore. Ever think of that?”

“Not a chance. I’m not takin’ you all the way to Italy just for you to stay dry.” She stepped down into the water, wading over to you with a determined glint in her eye.

“What are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as she reached you.

“Teachin’ you how to float,” the redhead woman said simply, placing her hands on the float to steady it.

You groaned, setting your book aside. “Lis, I’m fine like this.”

“Nope. You’re not gettin’ outta this one,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a swift motion, she tipped the float just enough to slide you gently into the water. You shrieked, splashing as you flailed instinctively.

“What the—Fuck?! This is insane!” you screamed, your grip on the float tightening as your heart pounded faster. The unfamiliar sensation of the water surrounding you made your chest tighten with anxiety. “I swear, I’m gonna die from this. I’ll drown, and it’ll be your fault.”

“Relax!” Melissa was surprisingly calm, her hands immediately finding your waist to steady you. “I got you.”

You glared at her, water dripping down your face. “You tipped me on purpose!”

“Yeah, and you’re fine,” she said, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Now lean back.”

You hesitated, your body tense, but Melissa’s hands remained firm and reassuring on your waist. Slowly, you let her guide you, your back arching as you tried to relax against the water.

“There you go. See? The water’s holdin’ you up. Nothin’ to be scared of.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your body finally starting to trust the water. The woman’s hands lingered, one slipping to the small of your back while the other rested just beneath your shoulders.

“Good girl.”

The tension between you shifted, growing heavier as you became acutely aware of how close she was. Her hands, her gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as she watched you—it was overwhelming.

“You’re really close,” you whispered, though you made no move to pull away.

The smirk returned, softer this time. “I am.”

Before you could respond, she leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like she had all the time in the world. The coolness of the water contrasted with the heat of her mouth, sending a shiver down your spine. You reached up, your fingers tangling in her wet hair as you kissed her back, the float forgotten as you lost yourself in her touch.

The kiss lingered for a moment longer, your breaths mingling in the warm air above the cool water. When Melissa finally pulled back, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander as you floated there, still half-cradled in her arms. The wet fabric of her sleek black one-piece clung to her in all the right places, leaving very little to the imagination.

It wasn’t until your gaze traveled upward that you noticed the way her nipples had hardened beneath the thin material, the chill of the water making itself known.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing despite the casual intimacy you shared with her. “You, uh…”

Melissa raised a brow, clearly catching your drift as her eyes followed yours downward. A subtle smirk crept across her face. “You starin’, principessa?”

You sputtered, turning your head away as a nervous laugh bubbled out of you. “No! I wasn’t—well, maybe a little. But it’s your fault for looking like that!”

She chuckles. “Oh, looking like that, huh? What’re you gonna do about it?”

You glanced back at her, your face warm but your bratty instincts kicking in. “Well, maybe I won’t let you teach me to swim after all,” you said with mock defiance, crossing your arms over your chest as best you could while floating.

Melissa’s dark expression deepened, her grip on your waist tightening just enough to pull you closer. “Oh, you’re not gettin’ outta this,” she murmured, her voice dipping into a husky tone that sent a warm sensation down your legs. “And don’t think I didn’t notice where your eyes were. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You laughed, your body relaxing in her hold despite the flutter of nerves and desire that coursed through you. “You’re the bitch teasing me,” you muttered, though your tone lacked any real annoyance.

“Teasing you?” she repeated, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. “I think you’ve got it backward, sweetheart.”

The way her voice dropped sent heat pooling low in your belly, and you had to fight the urge to wrap yourself around her right there in the water. But as her hands slid over your waist again, steadying you, you couldn’t help the way your body leaned into hers.

The tension between you crackled, but Melissa finally let out a soft sigh, pressing one last kiss to your temple. “Alright, brat. Let’s focus. Lake Como isn’t gonna wait forever, and I’m not lettin’ you drown when we get there.”

Her words brought you back to reality, though the warmth of her touch lingered. You nodded, trying to steady yourself, even as your heart raced. “Fine. But if I get this right, you owe me.”

“Trust me, you’ll get your reward soon enough.”

(Next Chapter.)

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 2nd-8th 2024

We're getting so close to the end of the year!!! I'm already starting to think about the end-of-the-year rec I'm gonna do! :P

Complete

stay a little longer by oceanofchaos/ @islandoforder (S8E8: Wannabes Coda, Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): “Okay, what’s next on the agenda today anyway?” asks Eddie, pulling Buck’s legal pad closer to him to look at the checklist. “Realtor, about to check that off, email the union, oh that’s a good idea, I always forget to talk to them, lunch? Really, you put lunch on the agenda? Sure, fine. Lawyer? What’s lawyer?” Suddenly, it is impossible to look at Eddie. Buck makes a grab for the notepad, and successfully regains it. - Episode tag to 8x08 Wannabes, where Buck thinks they might as well change the will officially, and he and Eddie argue about it

nursing our wounds by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (S8E8: Wannabes, Hotshots Cameo | 2,8K | General): "Eddie, c'mon," cardboard nurse whines, practically draping himself over Eddie's back. "I didn't know they'd make me Nurse Number One." "Oh, I'm sure," Eddie scoffs, stuffing half a doughnut into his mouth at once. Casey likes him. "Hm," he hums and turns to his friend. "Not as good as yours." Cardboard nurse ducks his head and smiles, a pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks. Interesting. (OR: an exec witnesses the buckandeddie phenomenon and sees an opportunity for tv gold)

You wouldn't want it any other way by paleredheadinascifi (S8, Getting Together, Bitchy Eddie | 3K | Teen): “I’m not saying that he’s bitchy because he’s gay, I’m saying he’s bitchy,” Eddie retorts. “Like his soul is bitchy. He just also happens to be gay — it’s unrelated. I don’t think you should go. I don’t like him.” Or, Buck goes on a date with Josh. It's the worst day of Eddie's life.

we won't have a hard time (you can get what you want) by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 3K | Explicit): Eddie rolls his eyes, knocks their shoulders together. “What I’m saying is that you deserve someone who wants the same future you do. You want kids, Buck. You want a family. You deserve someone who would be more than happy to let you break their heart, just to get the chance to be with you.” or: another confession on the couch

supposed to be a package deal by joshwrites/ @joshwritesfics (Post-S8E8: Wannabes Coda, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “It’s really nice. Though, I really should get a new couch,” Eddie agrees before looking down and starting to pat the couch they’re sitting on — the one that holds far too many memories for Buck to count. “A new couch?” “Yeah, I don’t want to go through the hassle of moving this. I was planning on putting it up for sale on Facebook, but I was thinking maybe you wanted it? No offense, but your couch is uncomfortable as hell.” And it’s an innocent comment — one with no underlying meaning under it — but it sends Buck on a spiral to find one anyway. or: A 8x08 coda where Buck believes in couch theory.

you could poison poison by oceanofchaos/@islandoforder (S8E5: Masks Coda, Infidelity | 4K | General): There is a constant tension headache behind his eyes that’s been there for as long as he can remember, and it gets worse every single time someone who isn’t Maddie calls him ‘Evan’. - Episode tag to 8x05 Masks, in which Buck is exceedingly aware that he is increasingly annoyed by his boyfriend.

pulling pigtails by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (S7E4: Buck Bothered and Bewildered | 5K | General): Buck is jealous. Buck is a green-eyed monster, a jilted lover, a crying kid who didn’t get a lollipop. Buck can’t even find it in him to push it down because it’s overwhelming. Eddie and Tommy are friends. That’s – fine! It’s totally fine. or: buck is jealous, and 7x04 goes a little differently

🔥I should be pushing daisies by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 5K | Teen): “I miss you so much, man,” Eddie says as easy as anything. Like those words don’t have the power to breathe life back into Buck’s body and steal that breath back at the same time. “It’s dumb but - I guess I didn’t realize how ingrained you are in my life until suddenly you weren’t there.” “I-I miss you too,” Buck manages to say, though he has no idea if he sounds normal or if he sounds like there’s an anvil on his chest. Eddie smiles at him, eyes soft and fond even on Buck’s iPad screen. “I keep looking over my shoulder to say something to you or to see if you saw something dumb someone did too, but you’re not there.” OR Eddie goes to Texas to fix things with Chris and Buck pines.

slowly sinking (i need you to think i'm alright) by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Established Buddie, BDSM, Hurt/Comfort): Some of his hook-ups liked that Buck was so much bigger than them, even though he wasn’t nearly as bulked up as he is now back when he was having casual sex. They liked when Buck held them down, when Buck reused some phrases he remembers from porn. It was all for fun. Buck never had one of them staring up at him like Eddie is now, like he’s out of his mind. It’s uncharted territory. Buck doesn’t know where to go from here. or: Buck tries to dom Eddie.

black purple and green (i bruise easily) by oceanofchaos/ @islandoforder (S8E6: Confessions Coda | 7K | General): When he gets back to the loft, he looks around it wearily. He had only just reconciled himself to the idea of Tommy moving in, and here he is, alone again in his giant fucking loft. This is so typical. Before he can psych himself out, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, and gets up the 118 groupchat. just so everyone knows, single again. - Episode tag to 8x06 Confessions, in which Buck talks through whether he should have known that first queer relationships are inherently doomed with his queer friends.

man against man (who's ahead in the game) by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (S8, Halloween, Infidelity | 9K | Explicit): But going alone is like—it’s a death knell. And Buck is trying, he really is, but it’s Halloween. You can’t break up with someone on Halloween. He spies Eddie walking up the stairs, totally focused on his phone. Eddie, who is also planless for the weekend barring some natural disaster or miracle of the prodigal son returning home. Eddie, who had gleefully been the Tubbs to Buck’s Crockett—because Buck is totally Crockett, okay?—without complaint. Eddie, who likes dressing up for Halloween. or: Buck wants to do a couples’ costume, and Tommy doesn’t want to do it. Eddie volunteers.

Make this Place your Home series by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Getting Together | 10K | Mature):  Eddie leaves for Texas and Buck has the worst times feeling realization in the history of romance. So he adopts a dog about it And then he gets a phone call.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 13/14 | 54K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

🔥guess i'm the fool by oceanofchaos/@islandoforder (Post-S7, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 106K | Explicit): While Chris is in El Paso, it’s Eddie’s summer of Realizing Things, such as comphet, what Buck means to him, and how to let himself be happy.

WIP

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 141/? | 454K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie Moves To Texas | 2/6 | 24K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

[latenightdaydreams]

I HAVE COME BACK! i loved what you did with my request omg <3 but now i have something real dirty i wanna ask of you my lovely.

is it possible we can get a mermaid type thing? so what i'm picturing is kinda like the original Ariel movie yk? so the reader can have a giant fish tail and can speak underwater but instead of losing a voice when they shift to two legs, they lose vision :DDD

really it's like the blindfold kink without a blindfold lmaoo but can we also get the reader to be a bit on the chubbier side? reader likes to eat too much krill lol TYSM MY LOVELY you work so hard i love youu

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!!

König x Mermaid!Reader (fem)

Part 2

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, sketchy deals, blindness, groping

2.0k word count

🧜‍♀️

.

.

Last week you’ve noticed a ship docked in the port; you typically scour for human inventions. Your first thought is excitement about all the new things that might be tossed into the sea or on shore for you to grab. Yet, it’s not the little treasures that keep bringing you back.

You linger miles away from the shoreline, watching as the men on the ship wake up. Only the top of your head peeking through the water so you aren’t spotted. Your eyes instantly focus on him. He towers over all the other men, his pale skin turning red from exposure to the blistering sun. It’s almost as if your heart stops beating when you see him. He’s perfect, worth leaving the safety of distance to get a closer look.

König walks on to the dock with his men, his mind fuzzy as he recovers from heat exhaustion; not being able to fully rest. He has never felt this level of disorientation before. As he walks along the boardwalk, his flash falls off his hip into the water. His eyes shift, looking as he sinks lower down into the water.

“Scheiße.”

König stops, pulling off his white shirt and dark blue pants, tossing them aside so they don’t weigh him down. He dives into the blue water, swimming down after his flask. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a shape, causing him to panic, missing his flask as he turns around to swim back up.

This is the closest you’ve ever been to a human, to him. You watch him return quickly to the surface without his item, so you grab it for him. König breaks the water, crawling up on to the shoreline. He lies on his back breathing deeply from the adrenaline that just rushed through his body. His eyes remain watching the water, yet he sees no shark fin. Could he be seeing things still?

With his flask in hand, you poke your head out of the water. Your eyes instantly locking with his pale blue eyes. After a moment of intense eye contact, you lift your arm with his flask. König sits slack jaw looking at you, a beautiful woman in the water.

Your head goes back underneath as you swim closer to him, showing up only a foot away from one another. You take your time to study his features, how beautiful he looks. His skin was covered in scars and his eyes locked onto you.

“Hallo?” König says in a small voice that surprises himself.

“Hello.” You bring up his flask to hand to him, coming up onto land more.

König ignores the flask in your hand. Instead, he looks at your whole body. Your skin seems impossibly soft, your large breasts bare without a top also exposing your chubby stomach. As his eyes travel down, the color of a bright green and iridescent blue looking fish's tail follows you.

“König!” A group of voices shout from behind him.

“I’ll be right there!”

He turns to look behind him at his men calling for him. Once he turns back to face you, you’re gone. Nowhere to be seen. His eyes frantically search for your presence, but the only thing that remains is his flask pushed into the sand.

“König, come on. We’re late to start the day.” One of his men, Alan, says as he approaches him on the beach.

“Did- did you see her?” König asks, still searching the ocean for you.

“Who?” Alan looks down confused.

“There was… a naked woman. I think she was a woman.”

“I think the suns getting to you again, maybe you should get in the shade and drink something.” Alan tries to suppress the chuckle in his voice so he doesn’t anger the testy giant.

“I heard her speak…maybe you’re right.”

König stands and grabs his flask, walking back to the dock to get dressed before following his men to the small port city so he can get fresh water to drink. The image of your full breasts and soft plush body lingers in his mind. The way your voice sounded so sweet… if you’re a dream come true, he hopes to see you again soon.

You rush back to your home, full of excitement and heart full of love. A soft hum leaves your lips as you dance in the water, celebrating your new found love. That all stopped once you noticed Tabatha, the sea witch, lingering by the entrance of your home. She looks over at you with a knowing smile on her lips.

“Hello, little princess.” She greets you with disdain in her voice.

“What are you doing here?” You stop swimming and stare at her, guarded.

“Oh, nothing.” Her tentacles push her off the rocks behind her body. “Just noticed you were gone today during your fathers gathering.”

“I’m allowed to have my own life—”

“A life near the surface of the water? Near…humans?” She smirks at you as he swims closer, circling your body with her slender long frame.

“Please don’t tell my father.” You instantly begin to beg, the thought of him finding out terrifies you.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I just wonder why you never come to me…” Tabatha fakes a voice of sadness as her shoulders drop.

“What do you mean?” Her act works, piquing your interest.

“Well, you know I make miracles happen.” Tabatha turns her head slightly, masking her smirk as her blonde hair flows in the water.

“But at what cost?”

“You can’t expect a witch to work for free. It’s always a fair trade, it’s not my fault some don’t…follow through.” She turns to face you again.

“Well, what are you offering me?”

“Human legs. Lungs. The ability to leave your oppressive father and explore the world you desire to be a part of. You can fall in love with that sunburnt lover boy.” Tabatha gets close to you, so close her tentacles begin reaching out and caressing your flowing hair.

“What do you expect back?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really…” She goes behind you, whispering in your ears. “Just your sight.”

“My sight? Are you insane?”

“What? Don’t they say love is blind? So, what will you need your vision for?” There is almost a sound of glee in her voice, she’s aware of how tempting her offer to you is.

“But… I’d miss seeing his face.”

“Oh, princess, you’ll get your vision back eventually—if you can make him fall in love with you with this…ailment…then it’s true love.”

You look off into the entrance of your decorated cave. “What if he doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll keep your vision and you’ll be forced to navigate the ocean sight unseen. A risk, of course, but I’m sure you’ll succeed.”

You close your eyes and think about König. His pale eyes and skin, the scars litter his face and body. You’ll miss looking at him, but if it’s temporary. Tabatha’s tentacles grab your arms and spin you around to face her. She looks into your eyes, seeing the desperation. She knows she has to add a bonus to push you off the edge, making you take the risk.

“You’ll also be able to return home…see your sea family. If you’d even want too by then.”

“I could?”

“Of course. There are spells for everything.”

“Why are you being so helpful?”

To spite the king, your father. So she can punish him for banishing her for simply having a different body. With you out of water, he would be lost. Broken. With you here simply a helpless creature blinded by love—that’s even better.

“I’ll do it.”

The words escape your lips before you can even second guess yourself. You watch as her eyes darken with pleasure. She caresses your face with her hands as he holds you at the waist with two tentacles.

“Good choice. Look into my eye. Just don’t look away.”

You gaze at her blackened eyes. Slowly, you feel yourself getting light headed. Everything around you begins to fade, your body falling into a sleep-like state. Soon enough you’re out of it, puddy in Tabatha’s grip.

König comes back to the ship, later than the rest of his men. His body was exhausted in the tropical heat. He walks slowly and looks over to the beach where he saw you earlier only to stop in his tracks. You. It’s you.

König rushes to you, his body getting a rush of adrenalin as you lay there. As he approaches, he notices that you’re completely naked. Your plump body is on full display for him. While he wants to look away and be a gentle man, you just look so delicate. He kneels near your body, gently grabbing your shoulder and laying you on your back. His eyes exploring your breasts and apron stomach. Your thighs look welcoming with a forest of hair between your legs guarding your sacred cunt. You can’t possibly be real.

“Hallo? Fräulein?”

You hear his voice as you slowly come to. The feeling of his warm hands radiating throughout your whole body. Your face turns to him, opening your eyes to gaze up at him, but see nothing. There is simply nothing. A hand reaches out to caress his face, fingers tracing down his nose to his thin lips.

König watches your face as you explore him. You’re the woman from before, yet your eyes are pale and you seem to lack your vision. The green tail is now gone. He knows it’s you though, your beautiful face and supple body.

“My name is König.” Your heart flutters hearing the name he was called earlier, it’s him. “Are you okay? Can you speak?”

“Y-yes.” Your voice sounds like a chorus of angels to König.

“What is your name?”

“I’m y/n.”

“Are you lost? You can’t see.” He says as a statement as your hand travels to his jaw.

“I am.”

“How did you even end up here?”

“I don’t know. I passed out and woke up here.”

König’s eyes travel over your body before gently grabbing you, lifting you from the sand. Poor thing probably is suffering from exhaustion. Your body feels cold against his body, a welcomed sensation. He walks you back to his ship, making sure to head straight to his small cabin.

The sounds around you seem louder, each step he takes on the wood beneath him seems to boom in your ears. You wiggle your toes, feeling your new feet. A whole new body you have to explore. You can hear a heavy door close before being sat on a soft fabric.

König takes a seat next to you, his massive body completely towering over you. He reaches out and caresses your arms. A shiver runs over your body, never having been touched so delicately before. His eyes see goosebumps forming on your skin.

“You’re a very beautiful woman.”

You place a hand on your own thigh, feeling it. He watches you closely as your hand moves up to the patch of hair covering your pussy.  Unable to resist, he places his hand on your other thigh. In a slow motion, he rubs a circle on the soft skin of your inner thigh. You let out a sigh and open your legs more to permit him more space.

König gazes at you, taking this as the invite he was desiring. His large hand moves up until he grazes against the fluffy bush, gently pushing past to touch your folds. His finger grazes over your clit to see your reaction. Your leg twitches and a surprised moan leaves your lips.

The simple touch of his finger felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Being unable to see his next move sends a jolt of excitement through you. A spark in passion is ignited and you feel hopeful you’ll be able to make him fall in love with you. He’s already obsessed with your body; he can easily fall in love with your mind. 

Part 2