#i just like thinking of all the little billy mannerisms

[bealovesmarauders]

paper rings // gilbert blythe

or,

the 4 times gilbert blythe fell in love with you, and the 1 time he knew he’d do it all over again

⋆ ࣪.      ⁺⑅     ⋰˚     *.ﾟ    .˳⁺⁎˚     ˚⁎⁺˳ .    ༺ ˖

gilbert blythe x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings

a/n: trying something new here! i’ve never used this format (five times // one time- i tweaked it to make it four and one since i’m exhausted) so i hope you all enjoy <3 also fair warning that this is not historically accurate. but i actually spend my summers in PEI (and have for my entire life) so i think my portrayal of the environment at least is good! also, this is rushed as per usual :)

⋆ ࣪.      ⁺⑅     ⋰˚     *.ﾟ    .˳⁺⁎˚     ˚⁎⁺˳ .    ༺ ˖

one. when he walked you home from school.

the late june air was sticky in the avonlea schoolhouse, clinging to skin, beads of sweat gathering by brows. sunlight spilled through the windows, and even billy andrews couldn’t muster enough enthusiasm to tease anyone in this heat. pinafores too heavy for this weather, the girls gathered in one corner, pretending to read the excerpt mr phillips had picked out for today, but in honesty, you were all just complaining about the summer heat.

“i can’t wait until i have my hair up,” ruby gillis sighed, casting a longing glance across the room towards the boys. “my ribbon does suit my complexion, of course- but it’s much too hot in summer to have my hair down.”

murmurs of agreement spread throughout your little group. “i tried it one time,” whispered anne dramatically, “when marilla was away. it was rather romantic, but the pins hurt a great deal.”

sitting in between jane andrews and tillie boulter, you tried not to zone out. gaze drifting across the classroom, you caught gilbert blythe’s eye from where he was sitting with the boys, and he shot you a quick smile. you gave him a shy one back, and looked away before you could blush. you’d known gilbert forever- his family was close to yours- but something had changed recently, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

mr. phillips finally dismissed the class, and in a rush of rowdiness, the boys all excused themselves from the schoolhouse, whooping and hollering about a potential skinny dip in the wild waves. in a flurry of giggles and secrets, your friends gathered their books and rushed outside (in a rather unladylike manner- but it was summer and the world was their oyster, so who cared). you knew diana was hosting a tea party over the weekend- complete with ice cream, she’d said!- but as far as you knew, there were no plans for tonight, save the beach trip the boys had talked about. trying your best to avoid the heat for as long as possible, you lingered in the coatroom, taking the time to adjust your hat into place. but you weren’t alone, and you startled as a familiar face appeared over your shoulder.

“gilbert,” you said, his name sweet on your tongue. “you’re not going to the beach with billy?”

he shook his head. “i’m not quite in the mood for that today. but i was wondering. do you want- can i- would you like some company on your walk home?”

heart in your throat, you looked at the boy you’d known your whole life. was gilbert blythe asking to walk you home? you nodded wordlessly, and his eyes immediately softened. there was a nervousness you’d never seen in him before, a cautiousness, as if he were treading on eggshells and was terrified to break them. “i- i’d love that, gilbert, thank you.” a smile slowly spread across his face, and you seemed to see him in a new light. noticing the things you hadn’t before. the softness of his dark eyes and the way they sparkled. the gentle curve of his jaw. the way he smelled like rosemary and mint soap and the blythe farm’s apple orchard, mixed with a hint of cinnamon. the way gilbert blythe was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

“great,” he said, finally breaking you out of your reverie. “i wouldn’t want you to get heatstroke, after all. it’d be ungentlemanly of me to let you go home without making sure you’re alright in this heat.”

your stomach erupted with butterflies, and you walked in silence with him as you left the schoolhouse. treading along the path, your footsteps settled into the same rhythm, and eventually gilbert spoke, his voice clear among the songbirds and crickets. 

“how’s your family? i haven’t seen them in a fortnight.”

his tone was proper and gentlemanly, but curious and kind. you looked shyly up at him. gilbert was tall, taller than you, sturdy with broad shoulders and a grin that showed off a lopsided roguishness once in a while on his otherwise serious face. you gripped your books a little tighter, trying to focus your thoughts back to the conversation. “they’re good, thanks for asking. mother’s been wondering about you, though. she’s wanted to drop soup off for your father, but wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate it. it’s been a while since you were over, so she doesn’t know if he still likes biscuits or bone broth.”

gilbert scuffed the ground with his boot a little bit, looking down at you contemplatively. “that’s kind of her,” he said. “he’s barely been able to keep anything down, but he likes soup. i’m not sure about the biscuits, but i’d certainly like some. i wouldn’t mind some of your mother’s plum preserves either. i haven’t had much time to go into town for food lately.”

you’d noticed. there were shadows under his eyes, and he’d always been on the lanky side, but since gilbert had taken on more of the farm work you’d observed his cheeks grow more drawn. his muscles had grown, too- another result of all the wood chopping you knew he was doing- but he lacked energy, and your heart ached for the boy. cicadas chirped as you walked in unison through the path, minding the garden snakes slinking through the tall grass, and an idea sparked in your mind as you passed the field signaling close to home.

“gilbert,” you said thoughtfully, stopping in your tracks. “mother was going to make a layer cake today, with raspberry preserves and clotted cream. i’m sure it’s cooled by now. we can have a little picnic, you and i- we have lemonade at home too, that rachel lynde brought us, and father thinks it’s too tart, so he wants to get rid of it. you can bring some home for your father as well. mother wouldn’t mind, i promise- i can make us a picnic basket, and we can sit in that field.”

gilbert turned towards you, and you couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. “i don’t want you to pity me,” he said quietly. “much less drag your family into it.”

“no, no,” you said quickly, fearing he’d interpreted your invitation the wrong way. “just a picnic, to catch up, as friends. we haven’t talked in a while. i miss you.”

he bit his lip. you could almost see the gears turning in his head. “alright,” he said finally. “it’s almost summer, after all. i think- i think i’d like that.”

when you reached your house, your mother was more than happy to oblige, giving gilbert a big hug and fussing over how much taller he’d gotten since the last time she saw him. you cut two pieces of cake and put them on plates in the straw picnic basket along with the bottle of mrs. lynde’s infamous lemonade. your mother even let you bring the crystal glasses used for special occasions- she trusted the both of you well enough to know that you wouldn’t break them. covering up the basket with a red checkered tablecloth, you and gilbert set off again, waving goodbye to your mother and finding a spot in the field where there was a tree with enough shade to sit under. clover and goldenrod and cornstalk bloomed in the field, and the cool, sweet grass tickled the bottom of your dress. gilbert, beside you, leaned back against the tree, his broad shoulder touching yours, and spooned a large amount of cake into his mouth. it was the happiest you’d seen him in months. the thin layer of ruby jelly in between the vanilla layers coloured the cupid’s bow of your lips, and gilbert realized in that moment that he wanted very badly to take you into his arms and kiss you. but the moment was fleeting, and gilbert was left with the idea of love lingering on his mind.

that was the first time gilbert blythe realized he was falling for you.

two. when you showed up on his doorstep in the rain.

rain poured outside, streaking the windows and trickling down the roofs of avonlea’s houses. sorrow hung in the air, and black clothing had dominated the church the day prior. it was not often that avonlea had funerals, and when they were, they were a somber affair, impacting every one of its citizens. especially now. it seemed as though the whole world had watched mr. blythe’s casket descend into the soil, and now the rain was fertilizing it. perhaps flowers would bloom on top of his grave. the entirety of the little town hoped so- anything to bring comfort to the blythe’s only son.

you’d seen gilbert at the funeral, features etched with sorrow, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. but he’d looked resigned as well- putting on a strong face for those who could not. ruby had sobbed hysterically, as had rachel lynde, and even marilla cuthbert had shed a tear. normally, you would have talked to gilbert. you’d been over the day before mr. blythe had died, bringing with you a sweater you and your mother had knit together to help keep him warm. you’d known his health was declining, but it was even more heart wrenching seeing gilbert that way- expression unmoving, body stiff as he accepted the gift. you’d only had a moment with him before mr. blythe erupted into coughs again- a second in which gilbert’s mask slipped and you truly saw the fear plaguing his mind. you’d wished you could have said something to make it all better. but you hadn’t. you couldn’t.

and now you were on his porch, clutching a package of baking soda biscuits and a small posy of forget-me-nots in your hands. you were shivering from the cold rain, and you’d gotten soaked on the way over, but it was worth it. there seemed to be barely any movement in the gray house- you couldn’t spot any candles lit inside from the windows- and you were wondering if gilbert was even here when all of a sudden the door swung open and he appeared.

his expression was unreadable, brown eyes deep with emotion and seeded in sadness. “hi,” he said. “gil,” you breathed back. 

after a moment of silence, the words came back to you. “these are for you,” you said, reaching out. your hands were shaking, and whether they were from nerves or the cold, gilbert couldn’t tell. he took the flowers and the parcel from your outstretched hands, almost unsure what to do with them. “they’re biscuits,” you said, mouth dry, trying to fill the quiet. “mother’s baking soda ones. you mentioned you liked them one time, and we were out of plum preserves, but i-”

“thank you,” gilbert said, and although it sounded slightly robotic, his words felt genuine. you looked at your shoes, unsure of what to say next. your parents had always taught you to say “i’m sorry for your loss” to someone grieving, but the phrase felt too unfamiliar. “i- i’ll leave you to it, then,” you stuttered, backing away from the door and turning to go. you didn’t want to intrude- even if he was your friend. because that’s what you were, right? friends. friends visited during difficult times. friends didn’t want to hug all the sadness out of him. but gilbert’s voice cracked when he spoke next, and you turned around.

“no,” he said clumsily. the words are rushed and jumbled from his mouth, and he stumbles over the next ones too. “please. you’re freezing, and soaking wet. come in.”

up until then, you’d hoped you didn’t look that bad. your straw hat had managed to protect the top of your head, but the rest of your hair was stringy and dripping over your shoulders. your cheeks were also flushed, and even in what should have been a moment focused on his own grief, gilbert found himself worrying that you’d catch pneumonia in this weather. he hadn’t expected anyone to visit today, especially not in a rainstorm. 

seeing the concern in his eyes, you realized that walking all the way home in a thunderstorm was probably not such a good idea, so you stepped in cautiously per gilbert’s invitation. the house was warm, but everything seemed dim and gray. the door you knew led to mr. blythe’s bedroom was closed, and you could see gilbert’s eyes darting towards it as well, as if he were praying you wouldn’t say anything. gilbert set down the parcel of biscuits on the kitchen table and looked around for something.

“do you have a vase?” you asked quietly. “i can fill it up with water for you. i thought the forget-me-nots would bring a little light.”

gilbert nodded, but sucked in a breath. you turned to him with a questioning look. “the vase,” he said, voice dry. “it’s in his room. mrs. lynde brought some peonies over while he was still sick, and i didn’t take them out. he’s always hated peonies- he thinks they’re too big and bold. but he would’ve loved these.”

you lightly touched the small forget me not bouquet, felt the soft petals under your fingertips. “you don’t have to use a vase,” you replied softly. “a mug will do.” gilbert stood motionless in the middle of the kitchen, and you maneuvered around him, carefully filling up the pottery with water and placing the flowers in it.

he seemed rooted to the floor, even when he focused his gaze on the posy. your glance met his, and the sorrow was evident. gilbert hadn’t cried at the funeral- you’d never seen him cry. but now tears were brimming at the corners of his soft chocolate eyes, threatening to spill over, and in a moment your body overtook your mind and you had wrapped your arms around gilbert in a hug.

for a moment you regretted it. but then he was hugging you back, clutching your arms, holding onto you as if you were his lifeline. and in a way, you were. you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, hear his muffled cries. due to his height, your face was nestled in the crook of gilbert’s neck, and the two of you stayed like that, intertwined, for several long moments. 

when gilbert finally pulled away, he knew that for better or for worse, you would be there for him until the day he died. 

three. when you exchanged christmas presents in the snow.

to be honest, you hadn’t expected gilbert to come back from the steamer, or trinidad. you’d kept in close correspondence with him, saving the letters he sent you in a special drawer in your writing desk. you memorized his handwriting- the candid tone recalling his tales- the stamps on the envelope. but it still came as a surprise when he’d arrived back.

everything had been awkward at the start, but as soon as gilbert told you all the tales of his travels, you’d slowly slipped back into your old dynamic. there was still a line the both of you were toeing, trying to test out the boundaries between platonic and whatever the two of you were. when you’d met bash, he’d given you a quick wink and told you he’d heard all about you, but other than that, you were positive gilbert just wanted to stay friends. “he can’t love me,” you’d told the avonlea girls a few days prior. “the letters didn’t mean anything, he was just lonely.” but all of them agreed, even ruby- who had been zoning in on moody spurgeon ever since gilbert had left- that there was something more in his words, that it wasn’t all in your head.

and now it was christmas. gilbert, bash, and the shirley-cuthberts had all come for dinner (you’d grown close to anne the past year, and it had taken some convincing but since your father knew matthew so well, marilla had deemed it acceptable). the dinner had been lovely- your mother had brought out all the stops for gilbert and bash- roast goose, scalloped potatoes (island ones, of course), cranberry jelly, chicken pie, spiced gingerbread. flames crackled in the fireplace, biting gusts of wind rattled the windows, and blurred glittery ornaments adorned the pine tree in the center of your living room. dinner was over now, and the adults were gathered around the table and swapping stories of old. anne was there too, heavily engaged in a discussion with bash, but the social aspect was getting to be somewhat exhausting, so you quietly slipped out the back door to have a few moments alone.

in a rather unladylike fashion, you got up and sat on the fence by your house, snowflakes tickling your nose, watching the sun slowly begin to set. hues of pink and orange tinged the sky, and you were surprised you could even see it right now- the weather suggested a cloudy sky. the sound of snow crunching came from behind you, and to your surprise, gilbert was coming towards you. he had his brown cap and his red flannel on, and he looked so cozy that you somehow wished you were cuddled up in his arms. pushing the thought away, you greeted him as he came to sit on the fence beside you.

“enjoying the night so far?”

“quite,” gilbert replied. there was a sparkle in his eyes that danced, one that had been noticeably absent since his father died. you suspected it had something to do with bash’s uncle-like presence, and maybe anne’s too- it was well rumored that he’d fancied her for a while when they’d first met. gilbert looked off into the sunset, puffs of his breath materializing in the cold air, and you shivered involuntarily. he offered you his wool mittens wordlessly, and you gratefully put them on, although they were too big for you.

“oh,” you said, remembering something. he turned towards you, watching you intently as you pulled out a small package from your coat pocket. it was wrapped in festive paper, and you’d written his name on it in swooping calligraphy.

“for me?” gilbert asked. he carefully unfurled the wrapping paper to reveal a small leather bound book embossed with “the complete illustrated medical dictionary (pocket edition)” on the front. “i’ve had it since you left,” you said, breath catching in your throat. “i kept it for you. all this time.”

genuine joy shone in gilbert’s eyes. he flipped through the pages delightedly, marveling at the drawings inside. “thank you,” he grinned. “i actually have something for you too.”

breathlessly, you awaited your gift, snowflakes fluttering down and landing on you. they decorated your hair and its festive ribbon for one fleeting moment before melting, and you swore there was nothing as beautiful as this moment, exchanging gifts with gilbert in the snow, watching the sunset sweep across the dove-gray sky. finally, gilbert found what he was looking for in his pocket, and produced a tiny box.

“it doesn’t look like much,” he warned, “but i found it on my travels. i was waiting to give it to you. i wanted it to be the perfect moment.”

carefully opening the small box, you gasped as the lid revealed a necklace with a pendant. a small silver locket shaped like a heart, the kind one could put a photograph in. “gilbert,” you breathed. “this is- this is beautiful.”

and it was. the locket lay on a delicate chain, and it was engraved intricately, with elaborate designs. your mittened hands fumbled to take it out of the box and inspect it more, but gilbert took it from you with a small smile. “let me help you,” he murmured, and made to fasten it on you. you stood still, hyper aware of how close gilbert’s hands were to your face. his fingers brushed against the back of your neck, securing the necklace, and you caught yourself from flinching. you didn’t know what to say, except for thank you, so you repeated yourself again. 

“a thing of beauty is a joy forever,” gilbert quoted, somewhat uncharacteristically. “keats,” he added after a moment, referencing the poet he’d read the phrase from. “i wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

“to remember you by?” you laughed. “what, are you going on the steamer again?”

he could tell the thought sobered you, so he shook his head, shrugging. “no. i just think…you’re a wonderful girl. the loveliest in avonlea.”

“i think you’re wonderful too,” you said shyly, which was about as many words as you could manage right now. the loveliest girl in avonlea? goodness. 

the sun had almost set by now, and the sky was turning dark- a good cover for hiding the red tint spreading across your face. “we should go back inside,” you said hurriedly, and the two of you made your way over to the door. you stopped before opening it, basking in the glow of the oil lamp on the porch.

“gilbert, i-”

overcome by sudden anxiety, you handed back his warm mittens. “thank you,” you said, the words lingering on your tongue. “for everything.”

quickly, so fast you almost missed it, gilbert leaned down, brushed a stray wisp of hair away, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas,” he said simply. and then, the two of you went back inside, as if nothing had happened at all.

as soon as you entered, bash noticed the locket and smirked. gilbert shot him a warning look, lest he say anything. the two of you immersed yourself in separate conversations- you with anne, him with marilla and your mother, while matthew silently observed your father and bash discuss politics. but you kept stealing glances at each other as if you were speaking a secret language that only the two of you knew, and each time it filled you with comfort.

it was a cold christmas, but you felt the warmest you had been in a while– and, as luck would have it, so did gilbert.

four. when you climbed a tree.

and so summer rolled around again, fading into august. university loomed on the horizon. childhood was over- gone were the days of butterflies, bumblebees, and scraped knees. yet you could pretend, and so you did. 

the soft salt breeze tickled your face, sending a pleasant feeling down your spine. you were with gilbert- on his farm, in the orchard. it was just the two of you- most of avonlea were in charlottetown for the island county fair, granting you the opportunity to do whatever you wanted, since no one was around to see.

so you took advantage of that. no more were the stolen glances, the sneaking around, your only physical touch with gilbert being brushed hands- and even then you’d both deemed it risky. neither of you wanted word to get around yet. sure, there had been rumors and some of your best friends knew (only the ones you were sure wouldn’t spread anything around). but here, now, the world was your oyster. and the two of you soaked it up blissfully.

you were lying on the grass with your head in gilbert’s lap, weaving a flower crown as he read a book- an old poetry collection ms stacy had lent him. the clouds were glorious fluffy shapes in the blue sky, and you pointed them out to gilbert every once in a while. your fingers deftly twined the daisies and their stems, finally tying them all together in a knot, creating a perfect circlet, and setting it teasingly on gilbert’s dark hair.

he smirked, leaving it on. “made it for me?”

“a pretty crown for a pretty boy,” you replied, smiling from your position in his lap. he was solid, sturdy, his hand resting securely on your waist. you felt safe with your body close to his, arms and legs intertwined. and he was pretty- “the prettiest boy in avonlea,” you said, mimicking his words to you from last christmas. he laughed and set the book down, taking the flower crown off and resting it gently on your hair. “it suits you,” gilbert said softly, and he was right.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, absorbing each other’s presence. you charted the rare freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose as if they were constellations, tracing them with the tip of your finger. it tickled him, and he smiled down at you. he finally returned to his book- “i want to read you something”- and blissfully, you obliged, settling down to listen.

“i almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days- three such days with you i could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain,” gilbert read from the poetry collection in his lap, a break from the constant medical anatomy books he was usually seen carrying around. you recognized the fragment of poetry- “keats,” you said, “just like what you said to me last winter. when you gave me the necklace.”

a smile tugged at gilbert’s lips, and you pulled out the locket from under the neckline of your dress to show him. “i’ll never take it off,” you promised him, right then and there. “it’s like a little piece of you with me, all the time.”

“you better not,” he teased. “cost me a fortune, that one. even more than all of those romance books i’m always secretly buying you in town.”

you sat up and shoved him jokingly, tousling his dark curls to purposely peeve him. gilbert’s hair wasn’t tidy all that often, but he’d let it slip once that he always tried to make it look nice for you. struck by a sudden flash of inspiration, you jumped up. “let’s go pick some apples.”

the blythe orchard was infamous for their strawberry apples, the only place in avonlea where they were available. contrary to popular belief, this was simply a variant of apple, and not a strawberry hybrid. all too happy to appease you, gilbert took your hand and led you to the best tree on the land. most of the other boughs were still blooming with apple blossoms, but this tree was different.

he pointed to a low-hanging branch, one blessed with red fruit. “my father always picked the first apple on this tree in august,” he told you, tone contemplative and wistful. “he said this was the tree he kissed my mother under for the first time. he thought if the first apple of the season was picked here, at this tree, it brought the harvest luck.”

nostalgia flickered in gilbert’s eyes, and you knew he was missing his father more than usual. “let’s do it, then,” you said, finding your voice, fingers delicately intertwined with his- giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “we’ll each pick one. in honor of him. a new tradition.”

the words you’d spoken may have been simplistic, but to gilbert they meant the world. without his father, it had been so incredibly difficult at first to do anything- carry on old traditions, much less creating new ones. but here you were, by his side, looking up at him with adoring eyes, and giving him the opportunity to heal and grow. gilbert knew he could never put into words how much it truly meant to him.

you let him go first, watching him scamper up the tree like a squirrel. he seemed a boy again, plucking an apple from the highest bough and descending nimbly. when you started climbing, you found your footing easily, but doubt wracked your mind- imagine the horrors if mrs. lynde and her posse heard about this, climbing trees like a chimpanzee! - and so you opted for a lower branch, reaching it deftly. you reached for an apple and held it high victoriously. some hint of pride shone in gilbert’s eyes.

“to making new traditions,” he said- a toast with the notable absence of glasses brimming with champagne. “to making new traditions,” you repeated, and in that moment, you in the tree and him on the ground, you swore you could see hints of a future- one with new traditions and old traditions, little feet running around and everything in between. today was flawless.

and it would’ve been perfect, except for the sound of the branch cracking under your weight. you weren’t too high up in the tree, but inevitably, you landed on the ground, a crumpled heap of petticoats and ribbons, crying out softly upon impact.

you’d never seen gilbert this way, in ‘doctor mode’, simply put. he was immediately beside you, voice laced with concern, checking you over for scrapes and bruises. you were fine, mostly- just a little shaken up and scared, save for the red-hot throbbing in your wrist. the pain didn’t exactly warrant crying, but you weren’t used to the funny feeling, and tears welled in your waterline anyways. gilbert, telling you to take deep breaths, helped you sit up.

he’d noticed straightaway the way you held you wrist, cradling it slightly away from your body, and murmuring words of comfort, he started prodding your knuckles, gently examining the swollen area. you winced, but it wasn’t too bad. “i don’t think it’s broken,” gilbert said finally, deeming it a sprain after careful inspection. “but let’s get you back home. i have some bandages- i’ll wrap it just in case.”

tears threatened to spill over again as the two of you walked from the orchard to his home. gilbert noticed, and stopped. “hey,” he said softly. “it’s okay. i’ll make you some herbal tea. that should help with the pain a bit.”

“it’s not that,” you made out, a small pout forming on your lips. “we were having such a wonderful day, gil, and i ruined it all. i’m sorry.”

“whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, his brow furrowing. “you didn’t ruin anything. you got hurt, it happens. and we have the rest of the afternoon to be together- i’ll tell you what, how about once we get back to the farmhouse, we’ll make the most of it, okay? we can still have some fun.”

a wobbly smile formed on your lips, and you nodded. gilbert cupped your face gently, and looked into your eyes. “i love you,” he said, voice nervous but firm. “just let me take care of you.”

your heart caught in your throat. he’d never said that before. contrary to the rumors, he hadn’t even kissed you properly yet. “i love you too,” you whispered, voice hoarse. and before you could think about it too much, you went up on your tiptoes and pressed a small kiss to gilbert’s lips.

they were soft and sweet and filled with promise and hope, and he leaned into it, your bodies closer than they’d ever been. his hands ghosted the small of your back, your hips, your shoulders, and it felt like home. when you finally pulled apart, there was a twinkle in his eye you’d never seen before. a twinkle of something called joy.

when you got back to the farmhouse, he finally settled you on the couch, comfortably sipping a cup of tea and trying wholeheartedly to braid your hair. he’d always wanted to learn, and since you were currently unable to do it yourself, he deemed it the perfect opportunity. it made you laugh- his fingers, usually nimble and clever, were clumsy in your locks, and the braid you ended up with was slightly sloppy, but filled with adoration. a realization fluttered through your mind, and set its claws into your future. you loved gilbert- gilbert loved you- and though you wouldn’t say it out loud, at least not for several years, he would make a wonderful husband.

five. when you said “i do”.

the spring skies were blue today- flowers were blooming- grass was green. “a lovely day for a wedding,” mrs. lynde had told marilla that morning, and all of avonlea agreed. 

you were walking down the aisle in a few minutes, getting ready in reverence. a delicate white veil lay on your hair, the one passed down through your family for almost a century. the lace dress fit you perfectly, intricate embroidery accentuating your waist. your mother’s simple pearl earrings adorned your ears, glowing in the morning light. in your hands were a bouquet- a single spray of forget-me-nots, periwinkle blue, an ode to gilbert’s father, who had loved them so. and at the same time, a tribute to your past together, that awful rainy day after the funeral filled with grief and tears and emotion, yet what had brought you closer together. something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. all was well. you were ready.

the springtime realm of gilbert’s yard was immersed in devotion. petals decorated the grass down the aisle. your dearest friends and family observed, and the wedding itself passed in the blink of an eye. there was not a dry eye during the vows, and gilbert’s words were even more poetic than you had ever hoped. he promised to love you- to care for you- in sickness and in health, to be your rock. it was not the fanciest wedding- there were no messes of tulle and satin and roses- but it was yours, and you couldn’t be happier.

you were husband and wife. the dawn had come anew. and that night, when gilbert fell asleep watching you breathe, finding solace in the rise and fall of your chest, he knew without a doubt that he would do it all over again.

#gilbert blythe #anne with an e #gilbert blythe headcanon #gilbert blythe x reader #gilbert blythe imagine #gilbert blythe blurb #gilbert blythe drabble #anne with an e imagine #anne with an e headcanon #anne of green gables #awae #awae imagine #anne shirley cuthbert #period drama #anne x gilbert #gilbert blythe imagines #gilbert blythe blurbs #gilbert blythe headcanons #gilbert blythe angst #gilbert blythe fluff #gilbert blythe x you #gilbert blythe x y/n #gilbert blythe x fem reader #gilbert blythe preferences #anne with an e headcanons

[ivanzplaid]

okay a bit of an odd request but my way of flirting is oddly threatening like “i want to hallow out your chest and live in your rib cage :((“ to me it’s endearing 🙏 and i totally want to see slasher hc on how they’d react !! idc what slashers you use and you can be as silly as u want !! i think it’d be funny with Stu though ^^

hi!! dont sorry about odd requests, i love seeing everybodies ideas, and i love this!! im also so excited about me choosing the slashers so ill pick a variety🫶

slashers will includdeee; Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, RZ Michael Myers, Billy Lenz, Stu Matcher

Slashers x Gn! Reader | Odd Flirting

Warnings: Language, Fluff, mentions of murder

------------------------------------------------------------

Baby Firefly

oh she thinks its hilarious

you share a twisted sense of love? shes giggling at every sentence and comment you say, a hand hovering over her mouth to try to calm herself

she never thought if flirting like that before, but now that shes heard it shes as into it as you are

"You're too clever sweetheart! I woulda never thought of it like that, hm <3"

it started when you were helping her eith makeup for a show, she was bedazzled with a beautiful dress and a gorgeous amount of makeup over her already pretty face

you put on her lipstick and mindlessly let it slip, and before you know it shes smiling confused, asking uou to repeat what you said

she sees you laugh nervously before repeating it, and all she does is think about it before smiling, kissing your cheek to leave a red lipstick print, and then wants to come up with her own

she always likes to hear them, because not only is it sentimental and intimate to her, she loves to have somebody who acts or thinks a little like her, so maybe the more twisted / odder the flirting, she feels secure and that she understands you

will pout when she cant think of any, itll come with time

she wants to say some to you to see how you react, ahe loves i serving you when it happens and laughing, then hugging you

she claims her inspiration came from "her smart little doll"

a kiss after every comment is complimentary of course

"Aren't you just the cutest, I always learn the most with you!"

//

Otis Driftwood

"Fuck did you just say to me Darlin?"

takes the compliment very differently than baby, he thinks of it more of the gruesome manner than the romantic aspect, you may have to explain it to him

even after that he thinks its hilarious, did you come up with that yourself? fuckin genius

he says them back witty, but he loves to tease you about it, making them in snarky tones and drawn out phrases

he thinks of them a lot in his free time, analyzing them deeper than anybody else would think of it, because while he agrees theres a closeness to it, he wants to know why

will write down every one you say, for multiple reasons

your compliments give him ideas on his art, specifically the human-genre work of his, but when he thinks of you while carving and cutting hes never been more at peace

asks you about them at night so he can laugh while youre dozing off in his chest

most likely began when you two were awake late in the night because you couldnt sleep, and some rare sweet talk was going on before you said it

"Jesus honey, say that again?"

hes always amused when you speak, he treasures every sentence

"Sugar I need you to repeat that one, I didn't quite catch that,"

--

"Y'know, I thought that was what came out of that damn witty mouth of yours!"

//

RZ Michael Myers

he doesnt quite get it, but since he doesnt recieve compliments a lot, he doesnt think too much of it

he thinks of it along side his favor of killing, so in a way he can see the gorier side of it, and since he doesnt see anything wrong with that, he doesnt mind your flirting

he imagines what you said as hes on one of his sprees, he thinks your mind is excellent because hes never had as much fun without your ideas like that

he probably tries to think about the deeper meaning behind it, reflecting it in his art, and giving it to you to show his form of endearment

hes not really capable of reproducing flirtation it to you, since be doesnt have a good idea of it, but he has his own ways of loving you back

he'll tap you with his knife to get your attention when these start up, maybe tapping your heart lightly with the tip of it when you turn to look at him

will 100% hold you so youll stay in place, its his version if quality time, he grasps your side firmly and stares in silence, he thinks its endearing

guides you by the shoulders to take you somewhere

he has no opinion on your comments, but they do affect how he shows affection in some ways <3

//

Billy Lenz

possibly in the top 3 for king of twisted flirtatious comments, you went to the right man

he is EXCITED when you say it, hes definitely thought of flirting like that but has never been able to put it into words

"Billy likes this! Billy's pretty piggy is smart <3"

he will now use this 24/7, its his thing now, he thinks of comments youve never thought of before

whenever he sees and greets you, or wishes you goodnight, its always a "Billy wishes he could live in his special piggy," or "Heartbeats make Billy jealous, he should be there" he thinks its so intimate and smart

competitions come up with who can come up with more, its his favorite activity, he loves to test and play with you

new things to the relationship make him so happy, so this is oerfect

whenever you say these things to him, its like his hyperactivity shoots up

your sincerity is near and dear to his heart, he craves it now, he loves when you supply it

overall this only closens the relationship and makes him feel more comfortable, you inspire him and hes overjoyed, this is his pride and joy

"Billy loves his smart piggy!!"

//

Stu Matcher

normally he'd be the king of saying the most outrageous shit possible, he loves to catch people off guard and make you have to pause before you say anything

so when you say say something about how you wanna live in his ribcage, bro looks at you for a good minute with this face: 😲

"well you won that game babe, what did you say???"

he laughs hysterically while being confused, because you just outwitted him

"woahhh.. totally a creepy vibe, i love that!"

he likes to mess with billy and everybody else about it, crediting you as the 'founder' of it while shaking you by your shoulders

he likes to write down new ideas and recite them back to you, having eachother rate the newest ones you think of

if were being real, he probably takes some ideas from his killing onto these so they can be more intimate, hes a creative man who sees opportunity in every corner

because its in the gag-business, he deep dives and makes a fake analysis of 'what makes these compliments better than the rest' and presents it to you

everytime you say another one he does have to pause to think about it, hes a goofy little guy but these comments are more complicated so give the fella some time to realize what you said

#billy lenz #black christmas #black christmas 1974 #billy lenz x you #billy lenz x reader #otis driftwood x you #otis driftwood x reader #otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #baby firefly x reader #baby firefly x you #baby firefly #rz michael myers #michael myers #michael myers x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #stu matcher #stu matcher x you #scream #scream 1996 #stu matcher x reader #scream franchise #halloween #halloween 1978

[cerealboxlore]

you know those posts where cap’s seen as a dad figure? what if one of the reasons why the other superheroes think that way is because when league members bring up there kids or need cap to cover for them when their kids need them cap is just super understanding, empathetic and gets oddly proud of them for being with there for their kids

the actual reason why he’s like that is because billy just really values those things as an orphan and is proud to work with such great people

Whenever someone mentions or even breathes the implication of Cap being mistaken as a dad or seen as a father figure, I lose my marbles, because, oh cheese and crackers, I just can't express enough how much I adore this headcanon! I'm doin' a little happy dance :D

Billy Batson is someone who has always yearned and wished to be a part of a family again since his experience was cut short due to tragedy and made sour thanks to his uncle Ebeneezer being crusty dusty, so it's easy to see him respecting those who appreciate the family they have. He had to grow up and mature far faster than any kid his age, and compared to most adults, Billy is actually more mature and responsible than they are, unfortunately. It's reasonable to see that this would be reflected in Captain Marvel; someone who's immature at times, but ultimately a good-natured person with a golden heart and good intentions, who others can depend on anytime and anywhere (much to the sacrifice of his personal life).

Billy has been in enough foster homes at a young age to know the difference between a good parent and a rotten one, so seeing members of the league prioritize their family members and kids would make him really happy. He's the type to take on any shift or mission in the place of another member if they had something important to do with their family. What you said about him being very proud and empathetic towards parents in the league made me realize that Billy would have loved to have parents like them had his own not perished. In a way, he's not just proud of them, but a little bit envious.

This also brings up another headcanon of mine, where Captain Marvel is the unofficial designated babysitter of the league when emergencies come up. Because despite not knowing who he is/his secret identity, people trust him enough to let him know theirs. Like, it all starts with the Captain in the watchtower break room drinking apple juice, and is suddenly bombarded with a group of children or sidekicks being thrown at him by the other heroes, saying that the Captain was in charge while they were away before teleporting away.

All these kids and teenagers that he suddenly has to help look after, and while Captain Marvel is calm on the outside, Billy Batson is freaking out on the inside. Some of those kids are older than he is, and there's some hilarity to it. Shenanigans ensue in the Captain Marvel: Adventures in Babysitting day, but it all turns out okay in the end. As a kid, Billy would know how to talk to them and keep them busy with fun/educational stuff. Might even teach them a thing or two about good morals, manners, archeology, or ancient magic stuff.

I imagine some of those kids would want to be babysat by him again, and Billy would welcome it (with warning ahead of time). Captain Marvel is just someone people like being around with his good dad vibes. Some of them even ask if he has kids of his own, but are met with an empty room immediately as the man zooms off whenever people ask him questions about family.

Gosh I went rambling again, but I loved this ask!

#this was such a lovely ask #tysm for the ask! #billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #justice league #cap is a good dad figure #imagine before batman knows captain marvel is really just billy he asks him to babysit damian and jon while he and superman go on a mission #Now that is a fic i want to write #the chaos #the fun #the angst when billy wants to be their friend but has to be the adult first #this kid can hold so much power and responsibility on his shoulders #So sorry I havent answered this one in forever! #stuck in my drafts for a while #ask me anything anytime! #I love answering asks! #sorry if there's any spelling errors

[buckysgrace]

Hi, I love your writing so much! I have a request if that’s cool. I desperately need a blurb of Billy jerking off in his room to a picture of his on again off again girl. They broke up (again) and he’s too stubborn to say he’s lost without her and seeing her in her little skirt all day at school is too much for him so he goes home, closes his bedroom door, takes his shirt off and gets the Polaroid he took of her and jerks his thick cock. Thanks 😊

Hope you enjoy!! <3 Thank you for reading my stuff!!

Billy Hargrove and mentions of female reader!!

He was beyond frustrated.

He couldn't remember exactly why they had split up this time, only that it had been over something dumb. But their fights were always dumb, their reasons always dumb.

This time was different though, different than all of the other petty little fights and break ups. You were ignoring him, insistent on getting the last word and proving that he needed you just as badly as you needed him.

He hated the games, hated the way that you wanted him to admit defeat so he didn't. He ignored you in the same way. Well, he tried.

You were a menace. You purposely wore low cut shirts and tiny skirts just to make his eyes linger and his walls weaken day by day. You'd bend over in front of him, acting like you were grabbing something from the floor only to flash him the pair of panties that drove him wild.

Today had been a particularly hellish. You sat near him in all of his classes, purposely crossing your legs in the right manner that little to no imagination for what was hidden underneath. You would glance at him, sending him lustful eyes before you turned your attention to some other poor guy while he was left simmering in his seat.

It didn't matter how many cigarettes he smoked, his nerves were still frayed and left him jittery. He tried to avoid you, but his eyes just seemed to always fall to you somehow.

"I hope you have a good weekend, Hargrove," You whispered, gripping his bicep as you pressed yourself against him. You were close enough that he could smell your flowery perfume, could feel the swell of your boobs against his skin, "Two little words and this will all go away." You reminded him, not looking a least bit phased by the way he grumbled and slammed his locker in response.

"You're in my way," He reminded you, cocking an eyebrow as you gave a gleeful shrug and walked away. He stared after you, his stomach twisting and turning at the way you moved your hips. He watched in fascination at how the material of your skirt hugged your legs, making him feel even more insatiable, "Shit." He cursed, moving quick to get out of here before his walls completely broke.

He offered no explanation to Max as to why he was driving so fast or why he was so frantic to get home on his own. He locked his door and made sure that his music was up loud enough so that no one could hear him.

He stripped off his shirt, glancing in the mirror as he did so to confirm that the love bites that had once littered his chest had faded to a dull pink. He touched them for a moment, thinking of the way your mouth felt on his skin.

He inhaled deeply, his cock aching inside of his jeans as he stripped those off next. He quickly positioned himself on his bed, his thick length aching to be touched as he reached over on his side table to pull free a picture of you.

It wasn't sexy or scandalous, but it was you. You were still stunning as you smiled brightly, your eyes glinting as the rays from the sun bounced off of the side of your face. It had been hot that day and he could tell by the slight sheen on the top of your forehead.

He groaned as he wrapped his thick fingers across his fat girth, giving himself a little squeeze before he spread his precum down the length of his cock. He sighed, his lips parted as he imagined what he'd do if you were here now.

You were always good with your mouth, eager to please as you'd stare up at him the whole time. He liked the way you'd squeeze at his balls as you built a steady rhythm with your mouth.

Your name lingered on the tip of his tongue as he jerked his hips forward, squeezing his aching cock in his hand as he thought about the pretty sounds that would roll off of your tongue. He liked how loud you could get, how he'd often have to shove his fingers or your panties in your mouth to silence you.

He thought of the way your eyebrows would furrow together, the way your lips parted as your features contorted into pleasure. He could feel his own spreading through his stomach, warming his body as he rolled his hand up and down the length of his cock a little faster.

He exhaled roughly, a soft groan pouring out of his mouth as he thought about the last time he'd had you. You had snuck in that night, the both of you sharing a blunt before he'd hidden himself away between your thighs. He loved the taste of your cunt, loved the way your legs would spasm and how you'd tug on his hair when your high approached.

A grunt left his mouth as he stared at the photo of you, his hips jolting forward in his hand as he came suddenly. He kept his eyes open, staring at your features as he fucked his hand until he was too sensitive to touch himself again.

He sighed as he dropped the photo, cursing to himself as he grabbed his shirt and roughly cleaned the mess from his hand. He stared at it for a moment, thinking that it shouldn't be wasted on his shirt.

He stood, sliding his jeans back on quickly before he opened his door and strutted out the hallway. He had a phone call to make.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #Billy Hargrove drabble #Billy Hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove x fem!reader #Billy Hargrove x reader smut #Requests

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

In The Low Lamp Light

17/12: Reassurance & Car Sex - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.5k~ | Warnings: mild angst, p in v sex, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), praise

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

She sighs as she locks up, huffing her coat on in the chill of the late evening. She's able to see her breath as she yawns, tapping her foot as she waits for the tell-tale sound of the squeaky shift from fourth gear to third. The inevitable sound of Billy's car as he comes to pick her up.

She smooths her hands over her cold and aching legs, needing nothing more right now than to just curl up on the sofa under a blanket and sleep like she's dead.

Billy's car screeches down the road, amber headlights aglow, right on time as usual.

It doesn't take a genius. She can tell right away when he pulls up and doesn't even look in her direction that he's got a mard on.

It's something that used to bother her. But now, after knowing and being with him for so long, she knows all the little tells, all his mannerisms.

He won't be able to keep quiet about what he's thinking for long when confronted with silence.

Billy rests his head on his fist as it leans against the window, keeping the car running as she gets in, preparing herself for yet another monologue. She complains in her head, but really, she'd rather he tell her than just keep it in.

He's wearing his dark green jacket over a jumper, and she can see as soon as she shuts the door how his knee is bouncing.

“Good day at work?” he asks, dispassionately.

She presses her lips together giving him a smile, nodding, like she knows something is wrong.

“Alright, ta,” she replies, knowing what she's about to say next might start him off, “you?”

He simply puts the car in gear and drives off, “Yeah, fine.”

Her eyes narrow. He's not looked at her once.

She's surprised that he lasts as long as he does to be fair. Without the radio on, and only the sound of his Vauxhall's grinding revs to drown out the silence, she can see how his knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

“No…actually…it wasn't fine…”, he says quietly, almost too quiet to really hear without leaning over.

“Why?”

Billy scoffs, shaking his head, “I'm just a fucking idiot.”

Oh, hell no. We are not doing this.

Luckily, the route Billy is taking home goes through a dark single carriageway, covered by foliage with ample place to pull over.

“Park up.”

It's the first time he looks over at her. Brows arched in confusion.

“Eh?”

“Park. Up.”

He even sighs as he does, slowing to a full stop and tugging up the handbrake like it's the most difficult thing in the world.

“Turn the car off.”

He does. Moving his fingers to the bridge of his nose. By now wishing he'd said nothing at all.

“Do you wanna run that by me again?” she prods.

“Why are you being like this?”

“I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you calling yourself a ‘fucking idiot’, Billy.”

He sighs, “I really didn't wanna do this.”

“It's not an argument, Billy. Can you just tell me, plainly, what's happened? No…self-deprecation.”

His finger taps idly on the steering wheel, both of their breaths fogging up the car.

“I'm just…finding it hard”.

She cocks her head, gaze softening.

“It's not the same as…fixing up my old banger. Just feels like I don't know anything…”

There it is. That look on his face.

The one he always has when he's giving up on himself.

“Billy, they wouldn't have taken you on if they thought you couldn't do it-”

“I know. I'm just not hacking it-”

“Billy”, she says it flatly, hoping to grab his attention.

And she nearly softens right up when his baby blues look over at her from the driver's seat, all shiny and sad.

“Listen to me. I know, I know, how hard it's been for you to get any work. And now that you have, you're just trying to find something else to beat yourself up about.”

She sees how Billy swallows, nervously smoothing his hands over his jeans, like he doesn't know what to do when praised. It so rarely happened from anyone else before.

“You've done so well, Billy. And…as far as knowledge goes, if you don't know how to do something or…if you don't know what something is, ask.”

She reaches for his arm, wanting to show him with her touch, just how much she means it.

“There is no harm in asking. And give yourself some credit. Half the guys there have been doing this way longer than you and can barely hold their dick in a straight line.”

Some of the tension is lessened when he gives a breathy laugh, no doubt blushing as well as he looks into his lap. And she's relieved to see the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I'm so proud of you, you know.”

It just came out so naturally she didn't even think twice about saying it. But she's forced to rethink about the weight of it when he looks up to her, their faces bathed in the minimal glow of the street lights outside.

But he doesn't say anything, making a warmth creep into her cheeks as he studies her.

“What?”

A surprised squeak is all that's able to leave her mouth as Billy pulls her by the back of her neck to crash his lips to hers. An urgent, needed kiss. One of pure necessity, but warming nonetheless in her gut.

His clothes smell of engine oil, something she'd become pleasantly accustomed to since Billy started this new job. And it's shameful to admit, but she rather likes the rugged, masculine scent that vapes off of him when they're in the throes of it.

Now is no different.

She melts into him as his tongue sweeps over her bottom lip, caressing hers, before pulling away with a soft click.

“Say it again, please…”

Her lips part involuntarily as his fingers run into her hair, tugging her close to him as he mouths at her neck.

“Um…I am…I'm proud of you…”

She can feel his breath against her neck as he sighs, as if those are the sweetest words she's ever said to him.

Her eyes dart around as Billy presses himself up against her, able to see the effect all this is having concealed beneath his boxers.

“Billy, someone could see-”

“I don't care.”

She squeals again as Billy pulls the lever up on the passenger seat, laying the back down flat so she faces the roof. He is quick to follow on top of her, emboldened perhaps by the fact that the road is dark and clear with being so late at night, and there is nothing around them but fields and trees.

His knee parts her legs, chest pressed against hers as his full lips make their way down her neck to her collarbone.

Her chest feels all tight, stomach doing backflips at the thought of doing this so unabashedly in his car. But she doesn't protest. Instead she watches his face as he edges down her body, eventually reaching her leggings where his impatient hands tug at the waistband.

“Billy…”

He doesn't even wait to pull down her underwear before he dives between her thighs, mouthing at her clothed centre like he's been thinking about it all day.

“- fuck -”

All breath is shot out of her throat when Billy collects her underwear in his fingers and tugs them hastily aside, flattening his warm, wet muscle against her bundle of nerves in a sensation that has her back arch off the seat slightly.

Her hand finds his hair, the sandy tresses spilling through her fingers, pulling him towards her in micro-movements as he feasts on her, moaning outright as he does it. It does well to drown out the muffled sounds of a car flying past the single carriageway outside.

She is sure it's never felt this good before as she grinds unceremoniously on his face, searching for friction. And she feels the way his hands wrench her thighs apart, wanting more of her taste.

“Oh - fuck, Billy -”

Warmth creeps into her gut as Billy quickens, moving down to fuck her with his tongue as his thumb moves to her clit so the sensation is not abandoned. And both of these dull, pleasurable feelings at once has electricity firing off in her blood, not realising how hard she's pulling on him.

Her orgasm is followed by a choked cry, her hips chasing his lips and tongue as she rides it out. All Billy can do is lap up whatever she gives him, her essence coating his lips in the most erotic way, the car smelling of sex and their bodies.

He pulls away just enough to undo his jeans and lay back on top of her, his lips finding hers again and allowing her to taste the heady, musky juices that have coated them. She'd be embarrassed if she heard how she moaned as the head of his cock pushed past her slick folds, spearing her open around him.

She desperately hopes that another car doesn't come by as theirs has now started to bob with movements that cannot be explained with anything else other than sex. Although secretly, excitement bubbles inside her at the thought.

So she holds onto him, raising her legs around him to aid him deeper inside her, smiling lovingly when he gruffs.

“Say it again.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington x you #billy washington smut #billy washington fic #billy washington fanfic #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington trigger point #trigger point series #trigger point fanfic #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #12 days of smuff #billy washington x fem!reader #billy washington x female reader

[eilishsluv]

tours exhausting.

billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: after only afew shows on tour with billie you were already exhausted

warnings: kissing, slight flirting, unedited

notes: this is my first ever fic so i apologise if its not so good! also a little dedication to hte being no longer:(

billie had warned you about coming on tour with her. ofcourse she wanted nothing more then you to be with her during it but it was EXHAUSTING. rehearsing, meet & greets, interviews, the entire works.

"baby you dont have to" billie reminds you while your both in the backseat heading to the airport.

you giggle staring at her face filled with stress, excitement & concern. quickly all turning to confusion once you had giggled.

"honey i've made my mind, im sitting right here with you, theres no going back. im not sitting alone in your house missing you for months" you say gently.

she just looked at you, eyes jolting around your face admiring your features, without saying a word you know she had agreed.

you were currently in boston for billies 11th show. happier than ever just started signaling that this show would be over soon & you couldn't help but feel relieved. you were already feeling like death, but you pushed that away thinking about how its a one in a life time experience, & you were experiencing it with your girlfriend.

at the end she had sprinted off stage & into your arms, she was all sweaty but you had no care in the world.

"you were amazing baby oh my goodness!!" you screamed as she pulled her head away from your neck.

"thankyou mama" she barely got in as she connected your lips together.

billie had her way of making the kisses more heated, but at this moment she couldn't & you could tell that annoyed her abit. she loved the heated kisses even if they didnt go further, she just enjoyed them.

you pulled away, grabbing her hand in your own, finding finneas & andrew. walking out of the arena to the car so you all could go to the hotel you stayed in just for tonight since there was another show in boston the next day. ofcourse running into fans, you always ran into fans after shows aswell as in day to day life but that had never bothered you, why would it? it was the sweetest experience, alot of them even wanted photos with you which was heartwarming.

"they loooove youuuu" billie said after the encounter with the fans. she loved that they loved you as much as she does, it was a worry they wouldn't but you got accepted insanely quick.

finally at your shared hotel room billie plonked her stuff down & headed for the shower

"wanna join mama?" she teased in a serious manner as you sat at the end of the bed scrolling through instagram.

"no thanks mylove" you replied

she walked over & grabbed your chin, taking your attention away from your phone. she admired you for a moment.

"such a pretty girl" billies comment hung in the air for a second, she loved flustering you, watching your checks turn a rosey shade immediately.

"whatever you say baby" you said back, she leaned down to press a kiss to your lips then headed back towards the bathroom.

she had finished up showering & everything else, heading out of the bathroom she came to see you laying belly down on the bed unaware of her presence.

she moved closer, sitting next to you. slowly she trailed her hand up your back & under your shirt, drawing patterns but mainly trying to bring you back to earth abit. she knew you were already exhausted from tour though she'd never bring it up unless you did first.

"tours exhausting" you breathed out, moving your head to face her.

"i know honey, i know" billie calmly said.

she was use to it, partly. it wasnt her first tour so she knew the ropes. you on the other hand had never ever been so it was a first for you.

"ready to head to bed love? its 11:30pm" billie had a strict sleep schedule due to yk being on tour.

all you could give her was a slight nod with a "mhm"

billie moved & adjusted into the sheets around you, once she was comfy you moved to her & laid in her arms dozing off into a deep sleep, nothing was a safer feeling to you.

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #eilishsluv

[passivenovember]

Billy knows he's pregnant because he has a double whopper with no cheese on the way home from Loch Nora.

Billy hates the Burger King. It tastes like cardboard and the cheese burns noxious holes in his stomach, probably, but things change when you're gonna be a mom.

A dad. Whatever.

Steve Harrington shoots his wad and, like magic, like Steve Harrington's spunk has turned everything inside him into stardust, Billy can't get enough of the shit. He'd buy cologne made of BK's burger fat, if he could, and spend all day sucking on his wrist like a dog.

So. Billy's pregnant. It's obvious. Among other things.

And no one ever said Steve Harrington was smart, not in any way that matters, and Billy can't learn his lesson. They fuck on Thursday night because apparently this is a middle-of-the-week kind of arrangement, now, and Harrington comes apart inside of Billy because you're on the pill, Malibu, it's okay.

Billy likes it. Lets him. Thinks, there's probably no harm in it now that he's no longer the Virgin Mary. It feels immaculate, anyhow, that this could happen.

Steve fucks into him sloppy, losing his rhythm until he spills, and tears swamp Billy's vision so he misses the whole fuckin' thing. The main show.

He wants to keep the baby. No one ever said Billy was smart, either.

But there are things in this life he'll keep to himself. He's allowed that. He shares so much with Max and Steve, and by association all the other fucking people that love Steve, and it gets old.

He can have this.

Billy thinks that this could be just for him.

"Fuck, Billy," Steve pulls out, but not before peppering Billy's face with soft butterfly kisses. His breath smells like them. Like blueberry seeds, underneath it all, "Goddamn, your pussy's magic."

Billy's hole runs sloppy. Too fucked out to hold anything in.

Billy almost laughs out loud, because. It's magic. It's a joke, right, his pussy swallowed and now there's--

"Love that thing you do with your hips. Love the sounds you make when my shaft rubs--"

"You're a fucking pervert."

"I was normal, before you let me hit," Steve trails damp, sticky fingers through Billy's chest hair. "You hungry?"

I'm pregnant. "No."

"Sure?" Steve rolls closer on the mattress, nosing Billy's damp, pillow-squashed curls out of the way, "You smell like you could eat a fucking village."

"I'm fine."

"Orphans and all, baby."

"So fucking weird."

Steve hums. Pulls on Billy's earring with his teeth and then licks a wet, fat stripe over his bonding patch. Teasing. "If you're hungry I could get us food."

"I'm fine."

"Really, I just need to put some shorts on and I'm outta here, fuckin'. Pedal to the metal--"

"Jesus Christ, I said I'm not hungry so fucking drop it, asshole," Billy shoves away, sitting on the edge of the mattress. He feels around on the carpet for his jeans, his t-shirt, his converse.

Steve runs out of him, gluing him to 500 count Egyptian Cotton. Pisses him off.

"Billy," Steve says.

Billy tugs his socks on. He was freezing, apparently. Never realized it. His teeth chatter so he stoops, reaching for the closest hoodie shaped thing in their heap of discarded clothes, and then.

"You don't have to go, baby," Steve pokes him between the shoulder blades, gentle as a falling leaf. "Please stay."

"You're pissing me off."

"What else is new."

"I'm gonna--"

Steve wraps around Billy like a blanket, cock soft and sticky against Billy's tailbone. His legs are lean and strong, all muscle and good intentions, just like the rest of him.

Billy hates it.

He melts back against Steve's chest, anyway, vision swamped again.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong, or do I gotta beg?"

"Little manners might be nice."

"Billy Hargrove. Please tell me what's got you smelling like a sugar factory caught fire." Steve pets through his hair. Knows how it turns Billy to putty. Has to. "Omega troubles?"

Billy bites down on the inside of his cheek. Tastes blood. "You wouldn't get it."

"I could try," Steve tells him. His lips are soft against he back of Billy's neck, at his ear lobe, on the tense knob of his shoulder. "Please. Tell me so I can fix it."

"You can't," Billy says, traitor voice cracking open, raw, "You can't fix it. It's mine."

My life. My baby.

"Okay," Steve says easily. Kind and good and sweeter than anything Billy could ever deserve, "Stay the night, so I can cook for you before you fall asleep, and again in the morning."

Billy swallows, throat clicking like a dead lighter. Can't breathe, can't--

"It's alright," Steve kisses his neck, "Everything will feel better in the morning."

"We never should've started this bullshit," Billy sits up, heart lurching at the soft, pained noise Steve lets out into the air between them. He can't handle this shit. He can't do this, he can't--

"Billy--

"I'm pregnant," Billy says to Steve's Duran-Duran poster. Can't believe how young he feels, in this moment. Can't begin to wrap his head around the fact that he's twenty years old, and he's in Hawkins, Indiana, and he's going to have a fucking baby with someone who's got such a shitty taste in music, and--

He wants it.

More than he's ever wanted anything. Billy opens his mouth to say it, to scream it at the popcorn stucco, watching like a trillion angel eyes overhead.

But Steve breathes, like an old car trying to start. "You're sure?" He asks.

Billy's shaking even though Steve is a warm, solid weight against his back, burning them up. "Yes."

"How?" Steve asks, full of wonder, and Billy has to get away.

The carpet is heaven under his feet. "I've been. Eating a lot of Burger King."

"Burger King."

"Yeah. Cravings for shit I never liked before. Double whoppers with no cheese," Billy wrings his hands, "And. I didn't have a heat this month, so Joyce took me to the clinic. They said I'm only a few weeks along, but everything is good with her."

Steve makes a wet, heavy sound.

"I dunno. It kinda. Feels like one," Billy rubs a palm over his belly, quick as lightning, "I think it's a girl."

"Billy, please look at me."

Billy does, horrified but swallowing it, one bitter mouthful at a time. He plants his feet and everything bubbles up inside him. This is his life, his body, his baby, and he's going to to this for himself. Steve doesn't have to worry or fork out any cash or put his life on hold just because he knocked up some desperate omega--

Steve's crying. "We're having a baby."

Billy didn't expect this. He falters, mouth working in shocked silence.

But then Steve moves.

He pulls Billy to him, chest heaving as he laughs, high and bright. "Holy, shit we're gonna be parents," Steve twirls them, hooping and hollering like they just won the NBA championship. "Goddamn, your pussy really is magic!"

Billy giggles, in spite of himself. All the other shit melts away, for now, shadows receding under the blinding light of Steve Harrington.

"I can't fucking believe this," Steve says, pulling back to hunt over Billy's face, full of wonder. "Do you think she's gonna have your eyes?"

"I. I don't--"

"I feel like in high school science class we learned something about the brown eyes gene kicking the blue eyes gene's ass? But I would fucking die if our baby comes out looking like you."

"You're not," Billy swallows, choking on tears. "You're not mad at me? Or disappointed?"

"Disappointed?" Steve repeats, his face falling. "Billy, are you serious? No. No, I've fucking. Ever since I met you I've been sitting in this room every night twirling my hair around one finger and kicking my feet because, I--"

Steve's thumb rubs soft, soothing circles against Billy's cheek.

"Billy, I love you," He says gently, "I love everything about you. You're smart and you're hilarious and you're so beautiful--"

"--Steve--"

"--You make my heart feel like it's gonna beat out of my chest. I can't believe you let a loser like me climb on top of you, much less--"

Billy kisses him, eating up Steve's next words.

They don't matter, when Steve leads them back to the mattress. He eats every soft, gooey whimper out of Billy's lungs, swallowing them down and tasting the damp running between Billy's legs.

Makes love to him, while they talk about the future.

Steve only makes one joke about his dick hurting the baby's head, and Billy thinks they should sign up for a class or two.

#harringrove #omegaverse #gave up near the end there #but i hope you enjoyed it #we love soft harringrove

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (14)

You're All I Want

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 14- W/c 3.3k

Tag list- @Natssluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove (Comment if you want to be added)

You're All I Want

The door clicked behind you, arms immediately enveloping you into a tight embrace as you held onto her body like your life depended on it. Wanda snaked her arms around your body, pulling you impossibly closer while whispering soft and calming words, trying to stop the sniffing and tears that started to spill down your cheek.

"Oh Detka," she cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before tilting your head up to look at her. "What happened?" she cautiously asks, not wanting to further upset you. She never wanted to hurt you.

"She...I..," you stuttered out, letting out an annoyed huff before resting your head back against her chest and holding onto her even tighter. She let out a sympathetic noise, simply embracing you as you try and sort your emotions out. "I hate her," you manage out, Wanda's brows furrowing at the raw tone of your voice, the genuine resentment that laced your words. "I hate her," you repeat continuously, trying to express the detestation you had for that woman.

"I've got you Detka, we don't have to talk about it anymore," she coos when you start to sob into her chest, guiding you slowly to the sofa where she pulls you into her lap to keep you close. It hurts Wanda to see you like this, your cries muffled by her neck as you can't stop replaying her vile words in your head.

How could someone ever love you?

Do you really think anyone will love you after what you did?

What you did to this family?

You and your disgusting ways

It should have been you.

You're just a fucking d-

A low hum coaxes you out of the dark spiral of thoughts you were going down, listening to the soft lullaby leaving the older woman's lips. You focus your attention on her and her only, her breathing to try and steady yours, the gentle tune making you focus on the melody instead of your negative thoughts.

When you finally calm down, you reluctantly tear your face away from the safety of her neck, looking at Wanda with glossed over eyes, a soft and almost pained expression taking over her face at your distraught state.

"I'm sorry," you mumble out, feeling bad for breaking down like that and making her once again care for you.

"Don't ever be sorry for not being ok, sweetheart," she whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheeks then your forehead, the warmth of her lips lingering while her fingers interlock with yours. You play with her digits, the two of you just sitting in silence as you feel the pads of her fingers, then trace each little line against her palm and eventually press your whole hand against hers to see that hers were a little bigger.

"I feel like you always have to take care of me," you mumble after a while, eyes fixed on the way she copies your earlier actions, repeating what you did to her hand on yours. Her fingers trail across your hand in a delicate manner, her head raising to look at you at your words.

"I'll always take care of you," her tone drips with sincerity, genuinity evident in her tone as the pools of green in her eyes overflow with affection and care for you.

"But I want to do something to help take care of you," raising your head to look at her, she can see your still watery eyes, a stray tear descending down your cheek, "I want to be there for you in the way you are for me." Carefully, she uses her thumb to brush away the sign of sadness, gazing lovingly into your eyes as she admires your consideration.

"Oh Detka," she chuckles out lightly, kissing your lips softly before pulling back and resting her forehead against yours. "You take care of me without even knowing it, sweetheart," she whispers, your brows furrowing in confusion. "Before I met you, it was the same thing everyday. Work, look after the boys and then sleep. It was repetitive, boring and I just felt so....empty. Don't get me wrong, Billy and Tommy mean the world to me, but I wanted someone to care about me, in the way Vision should have," you listen to every word, disheartened by the way she wasn't being loved the way she deserved. "Then you came along," she beams at you when she pulls away, the sight causing a swarm of butterflies to take over you while the simple look is still enough to have you melting for her, "And you filled that void, Detka."

"Wanda," you whisper out, her just keeping you quiet by claiming your lips softly once more, smiling into the kiss when you do, a blush tainting your cheeks at her words.

"Y/n," she mirrors your low tone, biting her lip to contain her smile before continuing, "You make me feel caredfor in all the ways I could ever want." Her lips ghost yours, the smile breaking out onto her face as she moves impossibly closer without letting your lips meet yet. "You're all I want."

Her nose gently brushes against yours as she finally presses her lips gently against yours, sighing softly when you kiss her back with the same amount of emotion. You raise a hand to cup her jaw, keeping the pace slow as you kiss her again and again and again until you both just lean your foreheads against each other, basking in each other's presence.

"You're all I want," you echo her words, fluttering your eyes open to lock onto hers, Wanda seeming to also not want to break the tender gaze. As you look into her eyes, you see the way they soften at what you said, her opening her mouth to say something else when her phone makes a noise due to a notification.

"I'm sorry Detka, but I need to get the twins now," she murmurs once looking back up from her phone, a message from the school saying their after school club was over soon. "Will you be alright? Or do you want to come with me?" Her tone matches her soft and soothing actions of her fingers gliding up and down your back, creating a warm feeling to settle in your chest at the way she always seems to know you crave her touch.

"I'll stay and try and do some work if that's ok?" You move off her lap, a little sad that you have to move from the very comfortable position.

"That's perfectly fine Detka," she presses one last kiss to your lips, lingering and indulging in the moment for a second longer before begrudgingly parting and getting ready to collect the twins.

***

Too transfixed by your work, you miss how the door of Wanda's office was opened, another figure walking in and soon wrapping her arms around you. Your body jumped at the touch, Wanda letting out a small chuckle and muttering 'revenge' under breath before kissing your cheek, letting you relax and lean back into her body.

"Are you ok, sweetheart?'' Her tone is quiet to mirror the tranquil atmosphere of the room, hands running up and down your sides while you sigh out.

"Yeah," exhaustion is evident in your voice, head tilting back to look up at the older woman with a small smile. Wanda could tell it wasn't genuine and merely raised her eyebrow at you, you rolling your eyes at the motherly action. "I'm just tired," there's truth to your words and Wanda knows it, deciding not to push further and simply claim your lips briefly to make you smile a little, that shy and flustered look that she loves so much taking over your face.

"I told the twins you had a long day at college so hopefully they don't get too hyper with you," she chuckles out while changing the conversation much to your delight, letting her fingers play with the baby hairs at your neck, "But knowing them, as soon as they see you, they're going to go crazy."

A smile takes over your face knowing how much the twins enjoy your company and vice versa, the older woman noticing your mood slowly brightening.

"They do love me," you laugh out, leaning your head back once more to smile up at Wanda.

"They adore you Y/n," she whispers, her heart melting every time she thinks about how much her children truly love you, having someone other than her to look up to.

"I guess we shouldn't keep them waiting then," your tone is significantly happier than what it was mere minutes ago, moving from your seat to get ready to see the twins.

In an organised manner, you pack up your school work and put it away in your bag, Wanda moving to leave the room when you call out for her, "Wait."

She turns around at your voice, her brows furrowed in confusion as you just offer her a smile, lip caught between your teeth. You beckon her over, the smile breaking out on your face when she stops just before you, looking at you in curiosity.

"If we're going to be with the boys for a while," you drag out your words to exaggerate your point, "I think maybe we should have one more kiss."

An ethereal and angelic noise escapes her, chucking at your cuteness before raising her hands to cup your cheeks, face lowering till her nose brushed yours and lips hovered millimetres away from yours.

"I guess you're just going to have to wait a while then, Detka," she purrs, pulling back teasingly making you open your mouth in disbelief.

"What?" Incredulity laces your tone as you are unwilling to believe Wanda would just deprive you of a kiss, a small pout taking over your feature making the older woman almost crack in her composure.

"Come on Detka, we wouldn't want to leave them waiting," she rasps out, walking to the door before pausing and looking over her shoulder, sending you an innocent and charming smile to break you out of your frozen state.

***

Sticking somewhat to their word, the twins aren't as hyper as they normally can get with you, the only moment of pure chaos being at the dinner table when you and the twins burst out into a fit of laughter, Wanda unaware of what silly thing set you three off. She rolled her eyes when she caught your gaze, your fingers brushing away the tears of laughter as you struggled to stop laughing. The action however only further encouraged the boys to carry on laughing until all of you were once again bursting out into giggles.

"My stomach hurts," Tommy mutters out from laughing too much, trying to regulate his breathing.

Wanda merely shakes her head at your antics as you bite on the tip of your finger to stop yourself from starting again, the smile making your cheeks hurt. Despite the strain in your cheeks, you still smile brightly at the woman opposite you, her facial expression softening when you mouth 'thank you' to her for helping cheer you up.

"Go and put a film on before anything else ensues," Wanda tells the boys in a light-hearted but also serious manner as everyone has finished eating, shooing them away playfully towards the living room while collecting their plates to take into the kitchen. You help her clean up, casual conversation easily flowing between you as you let the dishes soak in the water, Wanda coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around you. "So I was thinking," she whispers in the shell of your ear, the action making your breath hitch, "What if we told the boys you were going to have a sleepover in the guest room so that, in the morning, we can all have breakfast together?" You turn around after drying your hand quickly on the tea towel, letting your hands rest on her waist as you peer up at her.

"That sounds amazing," your words bring a smile to her face, the sight of her toothy grin making you also mirror the happy expression. "As long as I don't actually have to sleep in the guest bedroom," you chuckle out, Wanda's smile turning into a mischievous smirk.

"Depends how well behaved you are Detka," she rasps out, your cheeks instantly turning red at her low and sultry tone, "You have to be a good girl to share the bed with me."

"I'll be good," you sigh out, losing yourself in her captivating green as you both stare into each other's eyes. She bites her lip at your words, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before pulling away and walking towards the living room where the boys were.

You smile like an idiot for a moment, the domesticity of your whole relationship creating a warm and safe feeling to bubble in your chest.

When you heard your name being called, you shook yourself out of the memories of Wanda that were flicking through your mind and eventually made your way to join the others.

For the twins' entertainment, not because you wanted to, you dramatically flopped onto the empty sofa earning a chorus of giggles from the trio of Maximoffs on the other piece of furniture. Peaking one eye open, you were met with humoured gazes, yours instinctively going to green.

Wanda softly smiled at you while the boys were trying to find where they put the remote to finally start the film, interrupting their movements with her words.

"Boys, what do you think of Y/n maybe having a sleep over tonight?" As soon as the words left her lips, the boys jumped up in excitement, their answer obvious.

"It's going to be so fun!" Tommy exclaims, his brother in agreement as they decide to join you on the sofa you claimed, a puff of air escaping you as they decide to lay on top of you.

"You can share our room with us," Billy rushed out in elated tone, yours and Wanda's heart melting at the reactions.

"I'm sorry Dorogie (darling)," Wanda murmurs out, the boys lifting their head off you to look at the mother, "But Y/n will be sleeping in the guest bedroom," you raise your eyebrow at Wanda, her merely shrugging her shoulders subtly at you while the boys let out displeased groans.

"But mom-" Wanda raising a single eyebrow at Tommy is enough to stop him protesting, knowing that if he tried he wouldn't win.

Eventually, the twins settled, paying their attention to the film while remaining on top of you. They claimed you were a comfortable pillow, you barking out a laugh while Wanda mutters agreement under her breath making you smile over at her. She rolls her eyes when she realises you caught her, cheeks tinting red and you can't look away from her, especially when she was blushing like that.

Failing miserably, you try to steal glances at the older woman while the film plays, her seemingly knowing when you were looking and casting her eyes in your direction, the action causing you to snap your head back over to the screen.

Your cuteness never fails to make her smile, Wanda almost eagerly waiting to catch you staring at her, deciding it was far more interesting than whatever film had been put on. She adored the way you would try and play it off on some occasions, pretending as if you were simply cracking your neck or admiring the various decorations on the wall. Not at all interested in the alluring woman. Not at all.

"Wanda," you whisper-shouted to gain her attention, grinning at her while motioning to the two sleeping figures at your side and half on you. The graceful smile that stretched across Wanda's face created a strange, but pleasant, feeling to course through you, keeping your eyes trained on the upwards curve of her lip to prolong the moment a little bit before she started to whisper back.

"Can you help me get them into bed?"

"If you can help get them off of me," you quip back, making her shake her head while trying not to laugh at the expression on your face when Tommy snuggled closer into your body.

"Dorogies (darlings)," she murmurs softly, kneeling by the sofa you were all on and gently brushing their hair out of their faces. "Wake up for me," they stir and smile drowsily at their mother before sending you a sleepy grin, reluctant to get up. When they do, it's fairly easy to send them to bed as they are tired and desperate to drift back off to sleep. 

You hovered by the doorframe as Wanda tucked them into bed, whispering them both goodnight and pressing a gentle kiss to their foreheads, the motherly action tugging at your chest but your love for them overpowering the painful feeling. She smiles at you when she leaves the room, flicking off the light and shutting the door silently before wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and pulling you closer. Your arms snake around the arms at your middle, head leaning back against her body as you peer up at her with a soft smile etched onto your face.

"Have I been good enough?" you murmur out while turning in her arms in the hallway, peering up at her while your lip is caught between your teeth, hopeful the answer is yes.

"Hmm, let me think," she pretends to ponder for a moment, slowly walking you closer to her room while still acting as if she was deep in thought. When she guides you into her room and shuts the door, closing the gap between you to claim your lips in an affectionate manner, you gather the answer is a definite yes. "I suppose so," she whispers out against your lips, smiling into the next kiss, and the next as you softly press your lips together.

Both of you part to get ready for bed, you slipping on one of your dad's old shirts on and admiring it in the mirror near her bed, Wanda coming up behind you and propping her head on your shoulder while securely wrapping her arms back around your middle. She simply gazes into your eyes through the reflection, watching the mix of emotions swirling around in your eyes and moving to press a featherlight kiss to your cheeks.

"Let's go to bed Detka," her tone is soothing as you offer a small smile, taking her hand in yours while she pulls you into the bed. Your limbs immediately tangle as you snuggle into the older woman, resting your head on the pillow next to her and once again getting lost in her eyes.

You think you could forever stare into the mesmerising sight of her eyes, flickering your gaze over each shade of green and watching the way they soften as they continue to look at yours. You're so transfixed by them, you miss what she says, cheeks tinting pink as you grow shy and flustered under her eyes.

"What did you say?" you sheepishly ask, her fingers moving up to brush the few hairs out of your face before settling on stroking your cheeks with the back of her fingers, the action soothing and lulling you slowly to sleep.

"I asked if you were ok Detka," her tone is so soft and it makes you smile in appreciation, still amazed at how much she cares for you.

"I'm...I'm not ok but I will be because of you," your answer is honest and sincere, Wanda understanding of what you're saying, "You're all I want," her words from earlier are once again echoed, "You're all I need."

"You're all I want, Detka," she whispers out lowly, claiming your lips once more before parting and moving to rest her head at the crook of your neck. Your arms both wrap around each other to stay close, the comforting embrace enough to send you both to sleep.

 The agonising events from earlier dissipate from your mind as you subconsciously hold onto Wanda tighter, knowing she was the only thing you needed to get through everything. 

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #marvel fanfiction #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #eventual smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda fluff #smut #fluff #angst to fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #wanda fanfiction #marvel series #marvel #mcu #wlw post #wlw #sapphic #wlw love #lesbian #women loving women #babysitter au #slow burn

[myfandomprompts]

Hey, I saw you did what Ewan's characters would be like with a girl daughter. And I admit that my curiosity was: What would each of Ewan's characters react to an unexpected pregnancy? Or announcement of a pregnancy

Or, opening new horizons, what would each person's relationship be like with their wife/girlfriend when they were pregnant? (if you want to use the reader for this part)

(I'm sorry if you're not accepting requests or something)

Hi! Thank you for the ask and it's truly okay and wonderful!

Headcanons: How would EwanVerse characters react to unexpected pregnancy?

Abraham

He hadn't even planned to stay with you, his only focus was on earning his place among the gypsies. Yes, he lied to himself about liking you, about being obsessed even, but at least he had managed to keep his emotions at bay. Until now. When he learns of your pregnancy, he gets mad, takes time for himself to think. Then he sees how miserable he had made you and his turmoil quickly turns into guilt. He can't stay away from you for long, let alone hurt you. You could be together after all, happy, and hell, that baby is his. What other beautiful manner to make his claim on you is there?

Aemond

War was raging, and he took you as his companion because he could, because as Prince Regent, no one will dare say a word against it. He had needs, impulses both of sinful nature and quiet affection, and you were meeting each of them perfectly. But when you don't bleed for two moons, he finally realises why he chose you, why he didn't 't care about being careful: he wanted you for himself, and having you round with his child would be the ultimate prize. You and the baby would be untouchable.

Billy Taylor

He feared it was going to happen. He had heard the stories so many times : people around with too much passion which caused unexpected things to happen ruined their lives, even reputations. It had scared him as much as elated him when he got to be with you, to touch you everywhere. And now, with the news of you pregnancy and amidst thinking of a way to tell his mother, he finds out that he would do it all again, thousand times over if life allowed it. He would be so very happy with your child.

Billy Washington

He wasn't supposed to have met with you again, or even to hook up. You, the ex he had a hard time forgetting about. But he guesses that once you harbour feelings for someone, it never really goes away. When you tell him, he is awestruck, not believing it, even asking you if it's his. It takes weeks for him to wrap his head around it, thinking what the hell he's going to do then he decides. Decides that he was delusional thinking he could live without you for a while, and that he won't let you go again. He never stopped loving you, and that baby will make everything right.

Ettore

You're just his neighbour, the only one who gets him, who sees him for what he is. He actually doesn't care about what people think of him, or what you think about him. Or maybe just a little. But he likes how you let him do things to you others wouldn't. When you tell him, he stays silent for a while, expressionless. "So?" he tells you, and when you slam the door in his face, he tries to convinced himself that he doesn't care. But in truth he can't stop thinking about it. About what it would feel like to have something as... precious with someone. How foreign it seems to him.

Genyen

He doesn't understand: you said you were fine with him being "just a friend", that you didn't want more, and it suited him fine. So why were you telling him that now? He can't do anything for you, he has nothing, even if he would like to. He would, truly, he finds himself thinking, provide for you if he could, for the baby. But it's the way you look at him with those shiny eyes and a hand on your belly that make him abandon any idea of disappearing on you. He'll stay, whatever you say he is to you.

Michael Gavey

He is euphoric. You're the girl of his dreams, and it seems surreal. He can give you everything you want, provide for you like you've never been cared for before, you don't need to be anxious about it all. He reassures you at once, already scheduling how you'll manage to graduate and have a beautiful baby at the same time, your baby. He won't ever let you go, and is already planning for the second one.

Osferth

You're the lady he can't believe he has, and when you announce that you're carrying his child, he can't help but feel guilty. He has promised himself never to sire a child, a bastard's bastard, and now he had brought shame on you. You would have been better without him, really, better with someone worthy of you. If only he had been more careful. What if you died in labour? What if the baby died? It's with those dark thoughts that he snaps out of it and decides that he will look after you until then. He will pray for you and the baby, be there for the both of you until life takes him.

Tom Bennett

He isn't even surprised, you're his girl after all. It's not like he had planned it, but it was bound to happen at some point. Deep down, Tom is a family man, always taking care of his folks, a fact he is finally brutally made aware of when you tell him the news and a warm feeling fills his chest. Now he just have to find a way to get you a ring. Maybe he'll have to steal it?

Will

It wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to get sick of him like everybody eventually did, and he was supposed to remain detached. But then here you are, saying you want to keep it and he allows himself to hope. Hope that maybe you truly love him, that maybe he'll finally have something of his own, something to share with you. Maybe he'll be able to let his guard down, like he always longed to. With this news, he felt like he wouldn't be hurt anymore.

I excluded Hoodie, Jack, Jason & Poacher.

#ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewannation #osferth #aemond targaryen #headcanons #headcanon #michael gavey #will salad days #tom bennett #ettore #hotd #abraham grantchester #grantchester #genyen #bbc doctor #ewan nation #billy taylor #billy washington

[smashtbh]

are you down to write for sub top reader x billy where reader cums but billy won’t stop riding him until he finishes too so reader is overstimulated. dom bottom billy ofc

Manners

Billy Hargrove x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

not my gif!

CW: swearing, smut (lesgoo), subtop!reader, dombottom!billy, reader has a dick, sprinkled degradation, overstimulation, billy being a pillow princess in the first half, cowboy baby, refractory period? what’s that?

he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.

a/n: for some horrible reason i’ve had insane writer’s block so i’m going to make porn bcs that’s what i can do also this isnt proofread sorry 🤞🏽

i gotta stop smoking before writing holy shit i feel like this is all over the place im sorry i just get so much more inspo when im high 💀

There’s drops of wetness falling onto Billy’s chest, moving with his quick breathing. Y/N has been thrusting in and out of his ass for what feels like forever now. They’re both sweaty, but Billy honestly can’t tell if the liquid that’s falling on him is sweat or tears.

“Baby,” Billy calls out.

“Mmm — “

“Just like that, ooh fuck.” Billy’s smiling up at Y/N who lets out little grunts after every thrust. “You feel so good.”

Y/N lets out a humorless laugh. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Billy tweaks his own nipple. “Done so soon?”

“Billy, I came twice already.”

“That was in my mouth they don’t count.” Billy clenches around him. “I haven’t come yet.”

“I jerked you off in the car!”

“Doesn’t. Count.”

Billy kicks Y/N ass with his heel. “C’mon, stud.” He bites his lip. “Fuck me.” He tries to get some leverage to grind onto Y/N’s dick.

“Chill out, oh god.”

“People usually just call me Billy — “ Y/N slams a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

He’s thrusting in a nice slow, even pace. Y/N’s been close to the edge for a while, but he’s sure he can hold out for the rest of the night. He’ll be fine.

That is, until Billy licks his hand. And Y/N knows that he’s going to do something. Something with Billy is normally a lot.

Y/N moves his hand and lets Billy talk. Bad mistake. “I wanna ride you.”

Y/N’s hips stutter a bit. “You can’t just — say that.”

“I just did.”

“Billy I’m gonna fuckin’ — “

“Just let me ride you. Please?” Billy does his best puppies eyes and grabs Y/N’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

Y/N sighs, louder than needed. “Fine.”

“Yay!” Billy exclaims, moving up to kiss his cheek.

Y/N is now laying on the nest of pillows he made for Billy an hour ago. He’s pretty comfy, watching Billy kiss down his chest. He puts his hands behind his head.

“You look gorgeous like this.” Billy whispers, staring at Y/N.

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters. “Now get to it, pretty boy.”

Billy laughs, kisses Y/N’s stomach one more time, and proceeds to pornagraphically lick Y/N’s shaft.

“You — you are one nasty motherf-fucker.”

“Nasty, huh?” Billy says, sucking on the tip.

Y/N grunts, trying to keep his hands behind his head. Trying to keep his cool.

Billy finally sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He straddles Y/N’s stomach, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Love you.”

Y/N smiles, turning his head to kiss Billy’s lips. That’s all the answer Billy needs.

He shuffles his legs back, still kissing Y/N. Billy whines against him when Y/N’s dick catches on his rim. “Fuuuuck, this is gonna be s’good.”

“Hope so.” Y/N whispers against him as he thrusts up, fucking into Billy.

They both moan loudly, Billy hiding in the space at Y/N’s neck.

“Anh — let me.. let me move, baby.” Billy sits up again, crying out at the new angle. Y/N’s hips thrust up, making his eyes water and his mouth open in a silent scream.

So fucking good. Is all Y/N can think.

Billy starts to lift himself up, balancing on Y/N’s stomach. He slams back down, making him clench around Y/N’s cock. “Billy, I’m close.”

“Where’s — your manners?” Billy asks with a particularly hard drop.

Y/N’s hands fly from behind his head to grip Billy’s hips. “I’m fucking — “

“Yeah,” Billy clenches around him again, “you’re fucking me. C’mon, come.”

So Y/N does. Almost passes out doing so.

He’s trying to control his breathing, but he’s twitching with overstimulation because Billy is still bouncing on his fucking dick.

He’s moaning and his voice is a pitch higher, it’s raspy probably from the blowjob earlier and he’s riding the shit out of Y/N.

Y/N’s hands snake up to his chest, tweaking his nipples. “Auh — oh fuck.”

The sound of Billy fucking Y/N’s come deeper and deeper into himself is almost enough to make Y/N come again.

“You’re still so — fucking — hard.” Billy grunts.

“Please tell me you’re close.” Y/N gasps, letting his hand caress Billy’s cock.

“Mm, keep your h-hand there and I’ll — ohh.” Billy doesn’t know whether to thrust into Y/N’s hand or slam himself down onto his cock. “Yeah, touch me you fuckin’ whore.”

A few more seconds of Y/N jacking him off and Billy’s coming with a scream that Y/N interrupts with a hand on his mouth. Can’t wake the neighbors again.

Billy is still grinding on Y/N’s dick, laughing at the loopy look on his face. “Two loads, you’re a slut L/N.”

Y/N doesn’t remember coming again, but he moves a bit and feels the come start to drool out of Billy’s ass. There’s a lot more than there was before.

“Says you.” Y/N laughs, gesturing at the come splattered on his stomach.

Billy just smiles, leaning down to kiss him. “Your little slut.”

Y/N twitches. “Do not.”

Billy lifts himself up, letting Y/N slip out of him, then falls beside him. “Night.”

“Billy, it’s 3 in the afternoon.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!

#stranger things #stranger things x male reader #male reader #x male reader #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #gay #gay billy hargrove #smut #billy hargrove smut

[visionsofmagic]

Hello

Could I get a song lyric story with Billy Butcher with either song lyrics #1 or #13

Fluffy or sexy your choice.

⎯ better than him. [billy butcher – 1/2]

྾ summary: being denied by your crush, you find yourself at the door of butcher, only to get better since his your only company but it ends different than you thought. ྾ lyrics: #1, A little bit older. A black leather jacket. A bad reputation. Insatiable habits. He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe. Yeah, I said, “If you kiss me, I might let it happen.” ▸my oh my, camila cabello; #13, I could be a better boyfriend than him. I could do the shit that he never did. Up all night, I won't quit. Thinking I'm gonna steal you from him. I could be such a gentleman. Plus all my clothes would fit▸boyfriend, dove cameron

wc: 1.4k ྾ notes/tags: fluff, mentions of nsfw content (a little) – part 2 will be the nsfw one, reader discovers inner facts, kind of mean butcher, kissing, biting, confessing, nicknames, cursing. ^^ ALSO, lots of thanks to @butchers-girl for the request! 💌 I know I made you wait for a while but I hope this one will make you happy. enjoy! *lots of kisses and hugs* [masterlist]

“You look like shit.” He says, rolling his eyes at your mess yet he leaves his door open behind him to let you in after he understands you are waiting in front of his door for a while now from the way you sit on the ground, no tears but sadness washing over your face.

“Yeah, got it from you.” You tease even though he can make you leave his house anytime soon. A voice tells you that he will let you because contrary to his common cold manner, he’s soft – for you. This was the reason, maybe not the main one, you came to him after feeling so down due to having a crush, ex-crush now, who said how he could never imagine liking someone like you. Well, it shouldn’t hurt but it did and you had only Butcher to make you feel good since he was your only close friend.

“Stop being a brat,” Not using the word ‘cunt’ with you, no, you were so delicate to hear that, Huggie wasn’t though. “I let you in, yeah, be grateful.”

Following him into the couch, you put no mind to the mess of his house. You know he nearly comes to his house and today was your lucky day that he finally came. You watched him as he took off his black leather jacket, only leaving with a black sweater, making him look more mature and older – he’s indeed a little bit older than you, enough to make you watch him for a while before he remarks with a smirk on his attractive and cocky face, “Liked what you see the princess?”

Rolling your eyes, you look at the closed TV in front of you and hide your face from him – probably already understood how he made the heat rush to your face. You knew you were like an open book for him – he knew you maybe more than you know yourself, and that was another reason you came here – not the main one still.

“Just open the TV.” You say after seeing your own reflection on the black screen of huge TV; you have a messy posture while he’s looking so good as always. His wide open legs make you focus on there for a moment before catching his eyes on the reflection, seeing how he smirks and puts his left arm on the couch’s edge, right above your shoulders, caging you with his body like your small body, comparing to his bigger one, means nothing.

Without saying anything, he opens the TV, some ads playing while he drinks a bottle of beer which you didn’t see until that moment. How he got that even? “Want some?” He asks, pointing to the bottle.

Shaking your head positively, wanting nothing but forgetting about everything, you take the bottle from his hands, fingers brushing into each other. Feeling hotter each second beside him, you take a few gulps of cold beer and put your head on the edge of the couch, making his arm behind you a pillow for you to sleep on. Closing your eyes, you say after a moment of peaceful silence – something you like about Butcher; he always knows when to talk or let you go while being in silence. “He said he would never be with someone like me.” You leave a sad chuckle, feeling insecure even if you want to deny it.

It takes a few seconds for Butcher to say after you feel his piercing gaze on your face. How you wish to open your eyes and watch his beautiful eyes, attractive face, and sharp gazes but you can’t – not yet. “I said that he was a bastard, didn’t I?”

Opening your eyes, you look at his face, rolling your eyes at his cocky attitude inside your brain. “At least say something – uplifting you cocky bastard.”

Your swear makes him smirk, shrugging, he points to the door, “You can leave if you need a fucking therapist, ya know. I ain’t one.” Knowing he will not let you leave, you chuckle, drinking the remaining part of the beer as he watches your face, not even taking any permission to do it – he doesn’t need it anyway.

“Rude.”

“I speak the facts darlin’, the cunt is a bastard, so, let it go. Not worth it.” – Not worth crying, not worth thinking about his words but it’s nearly impossible when his words flow in your system like venom and you want Butcher to make you find your own medicine for it – you know your worth but still, being a broken one now, you need him.

“Butcher,” you say, taking his full attention on you because your voice comes so low, revealing how bad you are feeling right now. “What’s the meaning of ‘someone like me’? Am I that bad? I am, right?” You leave another weak – sad chuckle, making Butcher swear to the guy before looking at you deeply, with sympathy and affection on his expression.

“Fuck the guy,” He says, his arm behind you now holding you by the shoulder, pushing you closer to him, his hot breaths hit your face. “Fuck them all, y/n, you don’t need them to see your worth.” Surprised by how he talks – so openly, you become breathless because of both his words and the proximity between you.

Putting your right hand on his bearded cheek, you say, “Being soft now, are we?” Teasing him makes you giggle.

“Only for you, darlin’.” He confesses, leaving you surprised at his words. Looking at him, you gain great confidence by the way he looks back at you, and your hand moves on its own, caressing his beard as one of his hands find your back, pushing you closer to him, earning a low, “Butcher –“ utter from you.

“Yes, love?” He asks; a cocky smirk on his attractive face. Rolling your eyes, you leave a chuckle, playing the game he’s up to.

“Will you show me my own worth? In your eyes –“ You say, trying to understand his motives; just to take away your sadness or express something he wants aloud. You know that if this moment, he kisses you, you will let it all go, and like he hears your own thoughts, he smirks, holding your cheek with his free hand, pulling you closer until your lips touch his – fireworks blow in your stomach at the sudden but waited, for a long time, action.

First, you stay without moving, then, when he bites your lower lip to get your blank mind working again, you let a soft moan out, closing your eyes, and you kiss him back – as passionately as he does. Lips trying to eat the other’s lips, hot tongues enter each other’s mouth. As you and Butcher kiss each other as your lives depend on it, the world under your feet seems to be disappeared, only leaving Butcher and his presence knowledgable to your mind – reality. He’s neither fast nor slow with his actions. He acts as if he knows every nerve of you, which to push, which to pull, which to touch.

He slowly, and gently – contrary to his common attitude, rises, making your back touch onto the surface of the couch. Pushing your legs apart with his knee, he finds his place between your thighs, hands positioned on the left and right sides of your head. You can’t help but feel small against his big body, not that you complain, not when he breaks the kiss – both of you need air, a necklace which you gave him swing, you pay attention to it for a moment before looking at his eyes, seem to have more sparkles now. “At the end of the night,” He begins, sounding both confident and assuring, “You will know your own fucking worth, doll,” He kisses your lips again, rough this time, leaving red marks on them due to biting. He’s so possessive, you can see that. “The most precious girl – my girl is the most precious girl. So fucking precious. That cunt – oh, that cunt will kick his own ass after he finds out what he missed, I’m telling ya – ”

“Butcher,” You say before holding his necklace and pulling him into you powerfully. You need him now – more than anything, and you know you have needed him for a long time now. “Just forget about him and kiss me. I only need – you.” He smiles, genuinely, then, the smile turns into a devilish smirk, leaving you breathless.

“Damn sure you need me. Will make sure the only man you can think of will be me at the end of the night, my girl.”

#masterlist #the boys #tv series #amazon prime #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x f!reader #billy butcher x y/n #the boys x reader #written by me #vom #rose #<3 #request #requested #thanks for reading! ^^ #thanks for requesting! #HOPE YOU LIKE THE STORY BECAUSE I LIKED WHILE WIRITNG IT #SEE YOU IN PART 2!!! #*kisses* #gif's credit to owner

[yanderes-galore]

yandere ghostface (billy pls! if you want, you could also/or do stu) and scared darling. shes friends with with him, best friends even. suddenly murders and they couldnt be more scared, calling him up with broken sobs and apologies for bothering him so late but you’re just.. so scared. maybe you inv him over or whatever u wanna write 😁 (its friday the 13 >> even if its late, still gotta rq my fave!)

You got it! Sorry for the long wait :( Excited to write a Slasher again!

Anxiety

Yandere! Billy Loomis Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Yandere behavior, Obsession, Anxiety, Paranoia, Death, Graphic descriptions of murder/death, Blood mention, Possessive behavior, Forced kissing, Forced relationship, Manipulation, Sadism.

Billy Loomis, someone you called a best friend. One who was brave, flirtatious, and someone you felt could protect you. Even if you were just best friends... you felt close to him.

Your 'relationship' was tame for the longest time. Then the murders started happening. Ones that terrified you to your core.

You heard how they all started. A phone call at night, you're asked a question, getting it right or wrong kills you....

Upon hearing the news you decided to not go to school anymore. Instead you had someone pick up your school work and take it to your home until you felt it safe to go outside. Something Billy, your dearest friend, didn't seem to enjoy.

"I never see you at school anymore... you really that scared?"

You feel embarrassed to admit to him that you are that scared. In response he pouts and does his best to comfort you. Sure, he can be insensitive at times, but he does what he can to help you.

You were too scared to notice your friend acting weird. He was at your house frequently. Often being a bit too touchy to be comforting.

Yet he claims he does it in good heart.

You think your anxiety hits its peak when you hear about more morbid news.

Recently, your other friends had become victims to this killer going around. Entrails scattered along the ground, throats bubbling blood out from their wounds. Upon hearing the news, you couldn't take it.

Late at night you dash to your phone, dialing the number of Billy. The one person you felt you could trust.

A bit too quickly, Billy picks up. His 'Hello' sounds tired until he hears your choked sobs. By then he sounds more awake.

"(Y/N)? What's up?"

"Billy, I'm so damn scared..."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"The news... haven't you seen it? There were more murders. All of... my friends-"

You take a moment to gulp down a sob.

"Do you think the killer will come after me next?"

Billy goes silent for a moment before answering in a soft tone.

"No... I don't think they will. Did you want me to come over? I'll help make it all better."

"That'd be great, thank you."

You then hang up the phone and sit on your couch. Anxious thoughts eat away within you for what feels like hours until you hear a knock at the door.

"(Y/N), I'm here. Let me in, okay?"

You rush to the door and throw it open, lunging at your friend with a shiver. Billy recoiled but hugs back before nudging you back into your house.

"Poor thing... you're really scared, aren't you?"

You nod, eyes watering as tears drip down your cheeks. Billy rubs away your tears in a comforting manner to calm you down. Once you calm a little more you then sit on the couch beside him.

"Of course I am. I've been scared since the first murder. Now... my friends are all dead-"

You hiccup, Billy taking your hands in his.

"But you still have me...!"

You look at him with clouded vision, sniffing softly.

"I do now. Yet what if you die like them? Then I'll be alone... I can't trust anyone to make new friends."

"You don't need to make new friends."

Billy's voice turns stern, gaze hardening for just a moment. You look at him with concern. Was he also on edge?

"Billy, what-"

"In fact, I wasn't very fond of those previous friends you had."

You narrow your eyes, fear subsiding momentarily.

"Oh, cut it out! Now's not the time to-"

"I had to tell you at some point. You didn't seem to get it. I didn't like any of them. Don't even get me started on that one who'd bring you your work when you left school. I would've loved to do that for you."

You're in shock at Billy's rant. You try to pull your hands away, but Billy pulls them back.

"You're so cute when scared... it's not like you can run when you've already let me in, anyway."

You give a scared and confused expression before realization hits you. Shock then paints itself upon your face, it couldn't be...

He did it, didn't he?

"I had to ask Stu to help, but we both enjoyed it. We killed them and I had so much FUN scrambling their guts and slashing their throats."

A grin is on his face at your mortified expression. Like a deer in headlights... you were frozen. Completely speechless at his sins.

"But now? Now, I have you. All alone, clinging to me for comfort because... let's face it?"

Your pushed down on the couch, the murderer crawling over you and pining you down.

"I'm all you have now. You won't need any other person, because you have me. Your new psychotic, yet adoring, boyfriend."

A kiss is then forced upon your lips before he pulls away.

"Aren't I right, baby?"

#yandere slasher #yandere slashers #yandere scream #yandere ghostface #yandere billy loomis

[twenty-thirty-two]

Weekend at Billy’s

Billy Hargrove x female!reader

a/n: I know I had a select number of fics in order but I’ve never been this spontaneous so enjoy<3

Please understand that because I am 18+, I do not want minors on my page or reading my work

I do not consent to my work being reposted on other sites, translated or copied

Your eyes flutter open, instantly greeted by the sunny room despite the blackout curtains Billy helped you install.

Immediately, you’re suddenly taken over by a small yet very prominent headache. You groan, rolling over to the other side, your back towards Billy.

The boy somehow senses your movement and stirs for a bit, but not before, in a sleep-filled haze, he’s pulling you back towards him, your back against his warm chest. He lets out a sigh of comfort and satisfaction.

While the warmth that radiates off of your boyfriend always lulls you back to sleep, it only worsens your current condition, and you try to release yourself from his strong hold, which ends up successful, but not without waking him up.

“Babe?” His groggy voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm?” The sudden vibrations causing your head to feel like a thousand pin pricks are suddenly being imbedded into your head.

Your wince doesn’t go without noticing. He props himself up on his forearm and slightly leans over to get a better look at you. He notices little beads of sweat on your forehead. He puts the back of his hand against your forehead and sighs as he feels how warm you are.

“You’re burnin’ up, sweetheart, why didn’t you wake me?” Worry is laced in his words.

“I didn’t want to wake you, besides, I thought I’d be able to sleep it off.” Your response causes him to roll his eyes at your stubbornness.

“Day or night, you wake me, got it?” You nod and murmur a quiet ‘yes’, which has him placing a kiss on your shoulder as he gets out of bed.

“Wait! Come back.” You extended a sore arm towards Billy, bringing out a laugh

“I’m gettin’ you some medicine and makin’ you some breakfast, I’ll be back.”

“Take me with you..please.” You manage to convince him and he carries you to the kitchen, placing you on the cool island counter.

“Not hungry, Billy, m’ head hurts too much for me to eat.” You say as he begins to pull out some eggs.

“Y’can’t take your medicine without any in your system. Just a few bites.” He pleads

With an unconvincing nod, he begins to make the two of you breakfast. Once you’re at the table, your head feels heavy and you away slightly before putting your head on Billy’s shoulder.

Managing to eat at least half before feeling too full, you take the medicine with a grimace. Billy kisses your forehead as you hand him back the box of medicine.

“Alright, let’s get you to the living room.” You try to stand, only for you to sit back down after the room began to spin.

“Alright alright, take it easy, sweets.” He once again carries you and places you gently on the sofa. He tells you he’s going to draw you up a bath and you thank him.

“How y’feelin’ ?” Billy is sitting in the tub with you after you begged him to join you. He’s tracing some lines up and down your forearm as you lean your head back into his shoulder.

“Sleepy… Think the medicines kicking in.” He hums, acknowledging your response.

“Thank you.” You say after a beat of silence.

“For what?”

“For taking care of me today, I know it wasn’t what you had planned.”

He scoffs in a lighthearted manner, he tells you time and time again how he doesn’t mind, yet your brain somehow convinced you otherwise.

“There’s no need for you to thank me, it’s my job to take care of you, I hate seein’ you like this. I’m sure being sick all weekend wasn’t what you had planned either.”

“No, but I did plan on spending it with you, so so far it’s looking pretty good.” He laughs, the sound causing an eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

The two of you stay that way until the water gets cold. He helps you up and into some comfy clothing, mainly consisting of his sweater and sweatpants. Youre pulled towards the living room once more, where you end up falling asleep in his arms, with nothing but serenity and tranquility in the air.

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x female!reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader

[driftwood-fireflies]

spoke with a friend recently about who we think was under the mask in certain scenes and why. I could go on about this forever, and maybe I will in its own post someday, but the one I want to talk about here is tatum's death.

I'll go a little bit into "proof" in a moment, but just know thats not fully what this post is about so I won't be entertaining every contingency, but: I think it was stu.

to me, the mannerisms were one of the main things that sold it for me - (what I perceived to be) stu's ghostface, and stu as a person, is very jovial. obviously. he's playful and expressive, much unlike billy. and while billy most certainly has fun in his own way, he's never as animated as stu is. the head tilt, the little back and forth between him and tatum as she believes him to be randy... that's all stu to me.

but beyond "canon evidence," the main reason I think it was stu is because it's far more interesting. yes, yes, if we operate under the assumption that billy and stu really had something going on (which i am), billy killing his boyfriends girlfriend is intriguing. but, to me, it's far more revealing of their dynamic if it was stu.

stu's slavish devotion to billy is evident in basically everything he does and says in the movie. he's constantly defending him, willing to entertain the jokes about him being casey's killer if only to keep billy from scrutiny. so it not only stands to reason but adds another layer of depth to this perverse obsession if we believe that stu was the one to kill tatum.

it's an act of service, a display of loyalty, and forgive my love of the dog motif, but - like a prey animal dropped at his owner's feet. his love for him is so strong that their first kill of the night, the one that will determine how well they can get away with the massacre, had to be tatum by stu's hand. if nothing else, she has to die, and he has to be the one to kill her. if they are caught afterwards or killed in the aftermath, at the very least stu will have done that much and proven himself one final time. it's security in wordlessly telling billy that he's the only one he ever really cared about.

#every time i make these long meta posts i worry that theyre completely incomprehensible to anyone #but whatever #hopefully i worded this right #scream #scream movie #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #billy x stu #stu x billy #billystu #stuilly #txt

[bowiebond]

AU where right after Billy crashes, he’s about to have a good old angry cry over his baby, he’s about to touch the goop on his cracked window and be lured away by his own curiosity, when he’s blinded by headlights.

“Oh my god, sir, are you alright? I thought I heard a crash…” Joyce “Psycho” Byers is rushing out of the car to check on him, some kid she doesn’t really know, because she’s on her way back from work and heard the whole thing and has never been able to ignore a situation where someone might need help.

“Oh god, you poor thing, you’re bleeding, um, I think I have some bandaids in the car - wait no, we should probably get you checked out all together, what if you have a concussion, do you have a concussion? Tell me if this hurts.” She’s talking too fast in her panic, and he’s kind of bewildered as she reached out to feel under his curls for more wounds, but he snaps out of it quickly when she does poke at the growing lump from where he hit his head on the door more than once. The spilt on his forehead hurts enough.

“Watch it, lady.” He doesn’t have enough will power to yell at an older woman, a mother, but he’s running pretty high on emotions right now.

“Let me check your eyes - Jesus, it’s dark out here.” Joyce mutters, Billy dodging her attempts as pulling his pinched brows apart and up.

“Hands off, will you? I just fucking crashed.”

“Don’t use that tone with me.” It’s an instinctive response and it leaves Billy flushing with shame, which only makes him want to throw something, kick something, and it ends up being his car because he’s not gonna kick a woman.

“Sorry, I have two boys, the oldest used to have a bit of a smart mouth.” Joyce flusters. “Is this your car? It was just you?”

“Yeah. Something hit my fu- my windshield. I swerved. Hit the pole.” He felt ridiculous. It was a silent road, he could have just stepped on the break and he would still have a car, his only fucking freedom and possession.

“It happens to the best of us. I’m just glad you’re not dead. Do you need a ride home?”

“I had a date.” He muttered, but his sour mood would not be fixed by seeing Karen Wheeler. Even he knew that.

“Oh, well, I’m sure they’ll understand if you give them a call. The hospital can be a pretty penny, but I can take you home and your parents can keep an eye on you, I’m sure you have a first aid kit, right?”

Yeah, his parents would not give a solitary shit about his condition. Neil would add to it if he was feeling particularly mean.

“My dads gonna kill me.”

“A car is just a thing, honey, it can be replaced. You can’t be. He’ll understand.” Joyce placed a hand on his shoulder and Billy shook her off with a glare at the hunk of junk. All his best memories, down the drain with one crash. His baby was gone so quickly. Like all good things.

“He really won’t.” He muttered, huffing to him. He’d have to find a pay phone. Get someone to tow her back to his place. She’d take a while to fix up, but he prayed he could do it.

Joyce was quiet a while.

“Why don’t you come home with me? Our couch is a pull out, I have a fully stocked first aid kit, I even did a little nursing in the past, volunteer work, so you can relax for a bit until I’m certain you’re good to go.”

Billy sighed. He had two options. Stay here, sort this shit out himself and walk home, or go with the lady everyone calls crazy but seems relatively nice, who has a pull out that’s somewhere other than his own house.

Billy wasn’t stupid, even if he was stubborn.

“Okay. Thank you. Ma’am.”

“Oh please, Ms Byers or Joyce, whichever is most comfortable for you.” She waved off his attempt at manners and put a hand on his back. “Come on, it’s muggy out here, even this late, and I’d like to go home too.” She joked.

“My car…”

“I have a friend at the station.” She patted his chest. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to tow your car home, or to the nearest shop, whichever is best for you.”

She really was doing too much. Billy was gonna start feeling guilt above the slight humiliation he already felt. He rounded her car, a sense of ease filling him as he opened the door. He felt like he had just escaped something really bad, for some reason. Maybe his fathers wrath for the evening.

“Oh, what’s your name again, honey? I forgot to ask.” Joyce asked from over the roof of the car, a little pinch between her brows.

“…William. Most people just call me Billy though.”

“William, that’s my son name.” She broke into a bright smile. “Well, now I’ll have two Williams in my house. I do hope I don’t mix you two up.” She joked as she slipped into the car. He cracked a small smile as he followed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be calling you Mom like he does.”

“Oh, Jim says I’m everyone’s mother.” She chuckled as she started the engine. “I won’t hold it against you if you slip up.”

“I won’t.” As nice as she was, she wasn’t his mother.

As she drove them away from the scene, Billy felt the anxiety ease in his chest. She was playing pop hits from the previous decade, but they’re nice, nostalgic, and he finds himself almost drifting off.

“Don’t go falling asleep, Will, you might be concussed, sweetie.” Her hand reaches out and brushes his curls back from his face.

“It’s Billy.” He mumbled, and everything kind of goes hazy as his eyes unfocused. Her car is equally muggy as outside, with the smell of artificial lavender, and the music has trilled to something softer. It’s just perfect for a nap.

“Right. Sorry, honey.” He likes that she’s still patting him as she drives, just his hair where it doesn’t ache or sting. “Just stay awake, okay?”

“Okay…” He would. Or at least, he really did try. He’s pretty sure he’s not concussed, just…sleepy.

It feels nice to fall asleep with a hand on his head like the old days.

#just some Joyce and Billy fluff <3 #Joyce mothering Billy like she does Will <3 #because Billy is a sensitive boy too #Billy hargrove #Joyce Byers #fix it au okay #stranger things

[inklessletter]

No, but hear me out; Steve is genuinely good with kids and toddlers. Like, absurdly good. He engages with them because he finds them not only adorable, but really fun to be around. Steve kind of gets how they think, loves to play with them, their funny logic, how seriously they take what’s happening in their busy little minds. He finds them fascinating, and they often surprise him in the best ways. Steve respects them, and kids perceive that and love and respect him back. Also, to Steve, spending time with kids is socially freeing. When he’s around kids he’s not worrying about social cues, or saying something wrong, or can stop paying attention to his manners or his looks.

Steve loves kids, and kids love him back. 

And Holly Wheeler is the living proof of that.

Read it on Ao3

There is a bonus scene of this, just saying

—

You drew stars (around my scars)

Mike was the only one in the family who actively resisted to like Steve. Since he set foot in the Wheelers household, everyone in the family seemed to be head over heels for him. He had heard his father admitting more than once that Steve was a fine good young man; his mom was delighted with him since the very first dinner because he helped with the cleaning up after every time (he even brought flowers every now and then, ugh); and of course, he had to endure Nancy’s annoying pining and giggling for months. Then they started dating and he was at home almost every day and it was insufferable having him around every goddamn day. 

But the worst one was Holly.

Before Steve, Holly used to chase Mike around, wanting to be with him all the time. Of course, Mike shoved her out almost every time, especially when his friends were over. Lucas understood him; he knew what having an annoying little sister was like. Sometimes she was around, when they were drawing their D&D characters, Will would save a seat for her and let her borrow his big box of colors, or Dustin gave her treats under the table.

Mike Wheeler didn’t want to deal with Holly after him all the time, but when Steve showed up, Holly got totally smitten with him. He wouldn’t pressure her to give him a kiss, but instead, he high fived her. Steve called Holly “Super Star”.

“Hey, what’s up, Super Star? How was school today? Did Timmy borrow your doll? Again?”

“Hey Super Star, wanna sit next to me for dinner? I bet I can beat you, I’ll eat my baby carrots faster than you!”

“I heard Super Star was feeling funny in the tummy today. Are you okay? Will you feel better if we make a tea party with your stuffed buddies? Yeah?”

Then, suddenly Super Star didn’t want to do anything with Mike anymore. Now it was all Steve. 

(Sure, Mike didn’t like having her around, but he didn’t want Steve to steal her from him either. That’s two out of two, not that long ago, Nancy actually DMed campaigns for him and his friends, and then she decided she liked him and now it was suddenly a dumb game.)

When Nancy dumped his stupid ass in November of 1985 Mike almost made a happy dance. The nightmare was over.

But the fucker appeared at the door the day before Christmas with a gift for Holly. He didn’t stay for dinner, but he handed it to Karen. 

It was a stupid light board.

Dustin was suddenly attached to him now. Now they were friends. Lucas was also fond of him. Steve was cool now for his friends too, apparently. And don’t get him wrong, what he did to defend them was amazing. He hated to admit that it was a little bit cool (but Steve’s panicked face when he woke up in the back of Billy’s car driven by Max was awesome). 

Yeah, after all that shit they talked a little bit. Mike made himself crystal clear that he still didn’t like him, and Steve just sighed and told him that he knew. Mike was about to go victorious after that, but Stupid Steve had to add “anyhow, if you need anything, you can always reach me.”

He still kept showing up for Holly’s birthdays. He still brought her Christmas presents secretly. Mike knew that Steve showed up considerably early when he was going to pick him up and his friends to give them a ride to the arcade, or to the mall, or wherever just to spend half an hour playing with Holly. 

Holly laughed the loudest whenever they were playing in the living room together. And it’s not that Mike wasn’t glad that his sister was happy, it was just— He couldn’t be so flawless. Nancy called him bullshit, she must have seen something in him. No one was that perfect.

He was still around for the upcoming apocalypses. He was starting to make peace with the fact that Steve wasn’t going anywhere, when he stole yet another friend from Mike.

Now he and Eddie had bonded. 

They were often together and that riled Mike up like no other. Hawkins was full of people, did Steve have to put a goddamn spell on anyone around him?

Even when Mike hosted in his basement the Hellfire campaigns after Eddie graduated, Eddie showed up at his front door with Steve.

“You are not a Hellfire member, Steve,” Mike deadpanned.

As an answer, Steve lifted a box. A brand new toy doctor kit. He smiled.

“I didn’t come to see you anyway. Isn’t Holly’s birthday this weekend? I have an early gift for her.”

“You’re so lame.”

“Get new material, Wheeler,” Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie observed the interaction, both of them coming in. Mike closed the door.

“Well, I mean, I’m not surprised you want to spend so much time with Holly, I guess you need someone of your intellect so you can stop feeling stupid all the time around adults.”

Steve stopped for a second. He looked at him as if he wanted to actually reply. He let out a sigh, and went upstairs. God, Mike resisted the urge to fully smile. He glanced at Eddie, who was giving him a dead serious, borderline angry look.

Mike rolled his eyes.

“Wheeler, while I do appreciate that you’re hosting the new campaign, I’m gonna say something, and I’m gonna say this just once, so listen carefully. Treat him like this once more, and you’re out of Hellfire.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s bullshit!” 

“No, you being an asshole with him is. I already lectured Dustin for this, and now I’m lecturing you. I will not tolerate any Hellfire member to behave like this towards friends. That, that is bullshit.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“Like hell he’s not. He cares for you, he does shit for you and you not only do not thank him, you pay him by treating him like shit. He’s saved your ass several times. He pays your fucking late dues, man. Like, shit, give back the tapes on time, Christ.”

Mike was fully uncomfortable now. He crossed his arms and bit his tongue to not snap at Eddie any more.

“Look,” Eddie said, calming his tone. “I don’t know if anything happened between you two, and I don’t want to know, but he’s going through a lot lately. A lot, Mike. You don’t—Shit, you don’t have to like him. Just—just don’t treat him like this, okay? I’m serious about cutting you off Hellfire if you keep this shit.”

Eddie headed down the basement, and Mike was left uneasy.

That afternoon was by far his worst performance in D&D. He had been replaying the conversation with Eddie in his head on and off all the time, but Eddie didn’t give him shit for it, because he knew.

Eddie, an understanding DM as he was, called on a break, and Mike bolted upstairs.

He headed to Holly’s bedroom, the door wasn’t closed all the way. He stopped before coming in to put his thoughts in order and apologize properly. He heard the voices behind the door.

“Doctor Super Star, there are no more patients for you to save! You did great! You cured them all!” Steve said in a funny voice.

“But your tummy hurts!”

“My tummy hurts? Oh, no, ugh! It hurts so bad!”

Mike peeped, still hidden, observing the scene. He saw Steve doing a pretty poor performance of a faint, and he fell, belly up over the rug, amongst the plush toys scattered around. Holly, dressed as a doctor, rounded him and kneeled at his side. 

“I’m going to give you an injection to save you!”

“Oh, please, Doctor Super Star, please, it hurts so bad! N-no, Holly, holly don’t lift my—”

Holly did, and Mike froze. 

Both Wheelers looked at the sudden exposed skin of Steve, all covered in nasty, pink scars. Eddie’s words resonated in the back of his mind loud and clear, and he suddenly understood what Steve was going through lately. Those scars were—God, they were gruesome. That must have hurt like shit. He heard what happened, but now he was seeing it.

That could have been his sister.

Or Robin.

That could have been anyone there, but it was Steve.

Mike gulped, feeling a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. 

“It’s okay, Holly,” Steve spoke softly, but Mike could feel the nervous, vulnerable tone after his words.

Holly passed a finger ever so slightly, over one of the scars. She looked both curious and serious. Steve’s abdomen flinched a bit.

“Does it hurt?” Holly asked, softly.

Steve closed his eyes and put on a flaky smile, facing the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah they—they hurt sometimes.”

Steve let her wander her small hand, examining his torso. 

“They’re pretty.”

A silence. A broken voice. “They’re not.”

“Yes, they are. They look like stars.”

Then, Holly, slowly, put against his stomach a bright pink toy syringe and faked an injection.

“Now you’re cured. Now it doesn’t hurt.”

Mike couldn’t see Steve’s whole face, but he saw enough before he turned away from Holly to see. His expression crumpled, and he saw Steve’s bob apple up and down a couple times. If he wasn’t crying, he was about to.

“You cured me, Doctor Super Star. Good job!”

“Wait! I’m not finished!”

Holly jolted to his drawer, where he kept all her drawing stuff. She came back with a few colored sharpies, and got back to the same position she was before. Steve observed her. 

Then Holly put the sharpie nib softly against Steve’s belly, and he observed.

She drew stars over Steve’s scars.

“See? They are pretty. They’re stars.”

Steve smiled at her. She beamed.

“They are stars. They are pretty.”

After a few seconds, Steve cleared his throat and suggested Holly tidy up all around and draw for a little bit in the living room. Only then Mike reacted, and left the hallway, going back down to the basement.

By the look he gave Mike when he came back, Eddie must have noticed something weird in Mike, but didn’t say anything.

When it was time for all of them to leave (seriously, Mike had been a total disaster), Eddie hushed them all to the van. Steve was saying his goodbyes, and then Mike spoke before he left.

“Hey, Steve.”

He turned around. “Yeah?”

There was a silence, in which Mike tried to find the words. Steve waited.

“I never—I will give the tapes back on time from now on. I’m sorry for that.”

Steve was puzzled. 

“Okay?”

Mike was shit apologizing. Mike was shit communicating, at best. He was shit at being vulnerable. Mike was shit at feelings.

“Yeah, and—thank you for—you know. The, um—yeah.”

Mike pursed his lips, crossed his arms. He pinned his eyes to the floor. He could feel his ears and his cheeks grow hotter and pinker.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He could feel Steve’s soft smile in his voice.

“You can go now.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Mike,” he said. “Good night Doctor Super Star!” 

Holly waved him from Karen’s arms. She even threw him a kiss. He captured it in the air and put it in his pocket.

Mike rolled his eyes.

Ugh.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fic #ficlet #mike wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #holly wheeler #fluff