#the accountant fanfiction

[darlingshane]

big bad wolff

Pairing: Braxton Wolff x Marybeth Medina

Summary: Passing on a contract is a first for Brax, but there's something pulling at his heartstrings that is far more interesting than the money he was offered.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Alcohol, Associates with Benefits (or something like that).

Word Count: 2k (precisely)

— You can read below or at AO3.

“Hard pass,” Braxton slides the envelope across the table after taking a quick look at his new target. “I don't fuck with law enforcement.”

“That's the line you draw? Thought you were all about the money.”

“I love money. But a man gotta have a code, too. 'Sides Treasury? It'd put a target on my back.”

“She’s an analyst.”

“Still. Working for the federals.”

“What if I double the offer?”

Braxton raises a brow and opens the envelope again to see the beautiful Marybeth Medina in the photo inside.

As tempting as the offer is…

“I'm sorry, Mr. Calhoun. I'm afraid the answer is still no. What did she do anyway?”

“She's got her nose in my client's business like a rabid dog after a buried bone. The only way to stop her from digging further would be to gently put her down.”

“Hm, I've met women like that.”

“I thought you guys were professionals. Can't you make it look like an accident? What would you say if I added another 50 grand?”

“It’s possible, but accidents can get the wrong people asking the right questions, and I can't have that in my line of business.”

“You're a hitman.”

“And you're a two-time slimy lawyer that scours a six-figure representing the scum of the earth that make me look like the Easter Bunny.”

“I have to say, Mr. Wolff, your reputation does not precede you. Mr. Davenport won't be pleased to know you have refused to do your job.”

“Davenport is not my boss. Tell him I said hi.”

He watches Calhoun like a hawk as the lawyer retrieves his cellphone from Braxton's assistant.

“Did you tap it?” He asks once Calhoun has left the premises.

“Who do you think I am? Of course, I tapped it.”

“Good. You tell H to get a detailed list of all his calls, meetings, texts… I need to know where this asshole eats, when he shits, where he does his dry cleaning…”

“The whole gist. Got it.”

“Put a couple of guys on Medina, too. Just in case.”

“I thought that was your job.”

“Yeah, but I'm afraid they're going to double down now. I can't take those chances.”

“You had to piss him off, didn't you?”

“You know me, sweetheart. My mouth runs faster than my brain. I'm a lost cause.”

Later that night, Braxton sneaks into Medina's building. His guys are already staking the place per his orders.

Medina is not home yet when he breaks into her apartment. It wouldn't be the first time he's done it.

In the dark, he pulls out a mini flashlight and RF detector and checks every nook of her place for hidden bugs.

Given their history, he kinda owes her this one. Even if he didn't, what he said to Calhoun is right, he doesn't fuck with law enforcement. At least not in that sense.

He's going through her desk when Marybeth opens the door.

She’s not surprised one bit to find him there when she turns on the light.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Do you ever just wait for people to invite you in, Mr. Wolff?” She watches Braxton, clad in back, putting his gadgets away.

“Hm, sometimes. But it's not as fun.”

“Business or pleasure?” her frown remains firm as she puts her case down, removes her blazer and steps out of her uncomfortable shoes.

“How about both?”

“Some things never change.”

Marybeth rolls the sleeves of her dress shirt and pulls out a bottle of scotch and two ball glasses from the cabinet, as he takes off his leather gloves and sits at the dining table.

That's how their meetings always start – with a bottle of Lagavulin and a formal debrief that follows with them handling their pressing business between sheets.

“I think I have a mole,” Marybeth realizes after hearing Brax's warning.

“How do you figure?”

“Because only me and my boss know about Davenport LLC. We're still gathering evidence.”

“Is your boss dirty?”

“Ray King?” She chuckles a little, “not a chance in hell.”

“Well, whatever you have on Davenport is making them shit their panties.”

“Davenport doesn’t scare me,” she throws back her glass, taking a big gulp of her drink.

“He should. I’ve seen what he does with pretty faces like yours.”

“You think he’d be that dumb to go after me?”

“He came to me, honey. He is that dumb.”

“You could've just called, you know?”

“Had to make sure nobody was listening.”

“Are they?”

“No.”

“Good. Can we move on now to the pleasure part? I had a long day.”

“I just told you one of the most dangerous men on the planet is after you and you’re not worried at all?”

“Oh, I am worried. But he’s not going to show up tonight, is he? Uh-uh. Not as long as I have The Big Bad Wolff on my side.”

“Gotta say, Medina. You were not like this when we met. You went quickly from little lamb to lion.”

“Maybe I was never a lamb. And, you weren't like this, either. It seems that you actually care about what happens to me, Mr. Wolff.”

“Well, perhaps I do. Would that be so bad?”

“Hm, no. Not at all.” She stands up, offering a hand in his direction. “You coming, Big Wolff?”

“Rock ‘n Roll, girl.”

Braxton downs the rest of his drink and takes her hand, letting her lead the way to her bedroom.

Under the warm glow of the night lamp, and Brax’s brazen stare, her hands undo one by one the buttons of her shirt. As her skin comes to view, he pulls out his boots and slips out of his jacket without letting her out of his sight.

There’s no rush, but the thrill is palpable. It lingers in the air. They’ve already gone through this more times than he can count, and watching her undress her body is just as exciting as all those times he’s ripped her clothes apart.

When they're both stripped to his underwear, his hands automatically are drawn to frame her hips, pulling her body flush against his. Marybeth tilts her head, tentatively seizing his mouth slowly, letting her fingers draw the toned slopes of his arms.

Her tongue moves past his lips as her skin comes alive, buzzing under his palms, as his fingertips sink at the curve of her ass.

Brax tries to take control of the kiss, but Marybeth doesn't waver, and brings one of her hands to hold his chin still. She nibbles his bottom lip before sucking it between her teeth to see it turn dark pink after releasing it.

Usually, she lets him be the one in charge, but tonight she's in the mood for something different. There are things outside this room that escape her control, and here with him is the only thing she can get a semblance of power.

“Thought you wanted the big bad Wolff.”

“I want him on a leash,” her hand curls around his throat without squeezing.

“Yeah? What do I get in return?”

“Me.”

He scoffs and licks his lips, “okay, lil lion, show me what you got.”

Marybeth keeps her hold around his neck, guiding him backwards toward the bed until the back of his legs meet the mattress. He lays down on his back, and she crawls on top of him. She braces her palms on his chest, straddles his lap, allowing her hips to gently circle over his crotch.

His hands are automatically called to hold those beautiful hips that shamelessly grind, earning themselves a good hard-on to enjoy.

Behind layers of underwear, she rubs herself over and over, a little faster each time, letting that sweet spot revel in the friction he provides as the inner side of her panties quickly gets coated in her juices.

Locking eyes with her, he’s utterly mesmerized by the unbearable beauty of Marybeth as she bites her bottom lip. From above, she watches him exhale and buck up like an animal between her legs, trying to drill his way into her.

It's a torturous deed, she's aware. There's a fine line between playing with Brax or riling him up, and she's just lightly tapping on it. If she pressed any harder, it'd be like poking that ravenous wolf.

After a long moment, she brings her hips to a halt and reaches back with her fingers to unclasp her bra. As she tosses it aside, she leans forward to gently bite on his lip.

“Good, Wolff,” she grins, tracing the shape of his lips with the tip of her tongue as her fingers slip under the elastic of his boxers to feel his erection. It fills up her fist, throbs as her hand squeezes just a little harder to have his precum wetting the head.

“Hmm,” his lip curls, showing those teeth he's marked on her skin many times before.

Getting him to a point of perfection, she finally rids herself of her panties and pulls down his boxers. His cock jolts on its own when her knuckles graze his shaft. Propped on her knees, she lifts her ass, lines the blunt tip of his cock with her entrance, and sinks onto him.

In less than a second, as usual, he forgets altogether why he came here as her wet ass pussy slides up and down his hardness.

“Fuck me, girl,” he pants as she sinks all the way down, having her divinely, tight opening pressing around him.

Once she's comfortable enough, she angles her body forward, propping her hands on either side of his head, and moves a little faster. First, just rocking back and forth, and then bouncing with practiced ease as Brax fills his eager palms with her ass. Her breasts are so perfectly round and perked, bouncing dangerously close to his face, he can't help but stick his head up to nibble one of them.

Marybeth, smiling mid-moan, holds his head with one hand as he viciously wraps his lips around her nipple. His grunts ripple all over her skin, making her core ache, as he moves to the other boob.

He uses his teeth this time, there's so much she can do to tame that wild beast beneath her, she wouldn't even stop it if she wanted to. After crossing that line, he's all lips, tongue, and paws claiming her body.

His arms curl around her, and before she realizes, he's turning the tables to get himself on top of her and charge the rest of the way. He desperately pushes into her at full force, coaxing her body into submission. The most beautiful cries come out of her as he drives her into madness when his fingers find their way to her clit.

Having his fingers working furiously on that spot, he bites her neck, scrapes his teeth on her jaw before devouring her mouth. He can't bring himself to stop until he's poured every drop inside her. Braxton gasps for air as he comes undone. His cock is still twitching inside her, trying to ride the wave of his orgasm, when her sweet opening flutters around him. All her muscles seize up for a second as a lightning of pleasure travels through her body.

Holding her jaw, he keeps his mouth open against her lips as his breathing catches and the room suddenly goes quiet below the sound of their shared pants. His stomach presses softly on hers, as he lays completely limp and flat on top of her. If someone were to attack right now, he wouldn't be able to even pick up his gun to defend himself or even stand up. He can think of a million ways worse to die than this, to be honest. Given the opportunity, if he had to choose a way to go, this would be it – post-orgasm, still tucked inside the fine depth of her tender walls, as her fingers softly comb the damp hairs at his nape.

#the accountant #jon bernthal #cynthia addai-robinson #braxton wolff #marybeth medina #the accountant fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #brax x marybeth #darlingwrites #requests

[internetgremlin-writes]

IMPORTANT: TUMBLR & FANFICTION

Alright kids, listen up because @staff have pulled off a corker of a hot mess and have decided to add "Community Labels". I guess they've decided we can't be trusted to add our own warnings and people can't make sensible choices with what they engage with.

But why does it matter to me?

Tumblr have made labels AN OPT IN SITUATION which means every single blog here is automatically set to hide any triggering content

If you want to continue to be able to access and read fanfiction PLEASE go into your settings and click "show" on at least the "Mature" and "Sexual Themes" labels!!

ALSO IOS USERS: there's an extra fun "Hide additional content" bit just to really try and block us from any hopes of success. Make sure you opt out of that too otherwise I think content will be blocked on the mobile app!

Attached to this post are screenshots from my settings so you guys know what to look for. I could only find it on my desktop settings and not on the mobile app (for now at least)

[I feel like I should add I don't want to sound like I'm pressuring anyone... if you don't want to see certain content obviously keep it hidden and protect yourselves BUT this post is mainly targeted at the horny little gremlins I write for who will be suddenly deeply confused when their smut supply is cut off]

#also guys reblog and BOOST THE SHIT OUT OF THIS POST #if people don't see this fandom accounts are going to haemorrhage followers #@staff literally fuck you #am not loving how you're making it HARDER for creators to get engagement when there's already issues with reblogs and stuff #iggytalks #community labels #tumblr update #fanfiction #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #content creators #formula one #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #max verstappen #pierre gasly #esteban ocon #lance stroll #lewis hamilton #george russel #sebastian vettel #mick schumacher #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #charles xavier #james mcavoy #micheal fassbender #tom hiddleston #loki #signal boost

[thisismeracing]

Medusa | LN4

― Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her) ― Warnings: sexual innuendos. Minors DNI!!! ― Summary: The one where Lando's burner account gets exposed, and the internet goes crazy with how funny (or dirty) he could be. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! Most of the jokes were taken from random screenshots on Pinterest. I wanna add a special shout-out to Dee (@struggling-with-delia) for getting to me with this idea and hipying me up to write it in less than four hours. 🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask! I'm considering making this some kind of series or whatever you call it, but with other drivers...hihi lets see

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @Reecespiece1 @bbreezybitch @graciewrote

✷ check here my main masterlist | patreon guide my taglist  if you wanna be tagged on my pieces

©thisismeracing ― Do not copy, steal, or translate my work. Do not repost on a different media platform.

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris instagram au #lando norris social media au #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #f1 social media au #op: smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 instagram au #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x you #f1 x you #formula one imagine #burner account series

[mysteriawrites]

Love and Deepspace boys with a Short S/O

An: this is a shit post based on how all the boys are all 6ft+ and ripped for no reason.

An 2: spoiler warning for chapter 7 and beyond.

Xavier:

You become his personal pillow/stuffed animal

He is 6’1 you can’t escape the inevitable he will find you and he will cuddle you

He will lean on your shoulder even if it’s uncomfortable with the height difference

He basically wallows on you at night and if you need to pee than good luck cause he’s a deep sleeper

V sleepy boi

Uses his build to shield you in fight

If he’s trying to protect you he will just pick you up and book it till you’re safe

Puts stuff on the high shelf unintentionally cause he regularly forgets how tall he is

Zayne:

Would use his height powers responsibly

Whenever he’s fed up with your shenanigans he just picks you up like a sack of potatoes

Whenever you miss your doctors appointments he will drag you to them if he has to he’s not messing around

Id you’re overworking yourself he will drag you home and carry you to bed

He’ll sit you in his lap while working on paperwork and you’re not allowed to leave

You’re his personal heater at night a will wrap his whole body around you

Will use his height and long ass legs as an advantage to beat you in paying for stuff

Also puts stuff on the top shelf where you can’t reach them because he thinks it’s cute to see you try but won’t admit it-

Rafayel:

You know when you first meet Rafayel and homeboy almost falls on you.

Imagine if his his 6’0 ripped merman ass actually did fall on you.

I’m 5’2 this man would absolutely squash me-

But also he would use his large build to be an absolute bratty little shit.

He would lay on top of you to keep you from getting up

He would put stuff too high so you couldn’t reach it

He would pick you up and just take you with him as if you a purse or smth

He would throw you on the bed-

Just overall very mischievous he better protect his shins because i will kick him

#multi fandom blog #multifandom account #multifandom #multifandom writer #multi fandoms posts #multifandom fanfiction #multifandom x reader #multifandom imagines #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader

[dear-ao3]

to the person who reads wwe fanfiction on ao3/reading yaoi manga/listening to music in conspiracy theories class:

if you follow us, can you a) shut the fuck up and stop interrupting our professor, and b) maybe read a book on english monarchs in context with the british empire and c) stop yassifying queen elizabeth i? thanks!

#from katya #not a tag #theres a chance you follow us and if thats u...shut the hell up and stop glorifying the english royalty #those arent funny characters in fanfiction #they are responsible for murdering thousands of people and were by all accounts terrible

[wndaswife]

meant to be yours | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Nearly eight years after your breakup with her, you meet Wanda again when she enrols her children at the preschool you work at, evoking a multitude of old feelings and regrets.

Word count: 14 245

Tags: angst, fluff, pining that is a lot more mutual than it seems to either of you, mentions of marital issues, sorority!wanda & milf!wanda (best of both worlds), doctor doom makes his grand entrance

For the last few years, all Wanda has known how to do is compromise. It was a method of survival, a way to make sure she made something of herself as she aged.

The life she had made for herself wasn’t what she’d envisioned; ever since high school, Wanda dreamed of being a journalist for a fashion line. She loved writing and fashion design although the last time she ever had any large projects with either of those passions was in college.

Somewhere along the way, Wanda became convinced that the only thing she could ever be good at was planting down exactly where she’d always been — not taking leaps of faith lest she tumble and have nothing to fall back on. 

That was why she settled for a life married to her college boyfriend, staying at home most of the time caring for her two four-year-olds, Tommy and Billy. They were raised to be good, sweet boys, and though Wanda had heaps of regrets, her sons were always her greatest joys.

Victor Doom was an aerospace engineer who focused on robotics and developing other technological advancements for the company at which he worked — the household’s breadwinner.

In college he was especially well-known for being one of if not the only campus frat boy with a working brain, who in his final year helped paton tech with his astrophysics professor, subsequently earning himself a position as an engineer at a renowned corporation where he’s since been employed.

All she’d been doing since college was compromise — where to relocate, when to have children, whether or not she pursued a career. Some days she was somehow comforted by the fact that she didn’t need to do any more than live in the providing shadow of her husband, for it meant that she never had to reach for anything above, and that meant she never had to risk failing.

But other days, when she was selfish, Wanda wished she had more. She wished she had more friends, she wished she had a better marriage and a fulfilling job. Then she’d make dinner for her husband and settle around the table with him and Tommy and Billy at the end of the day and realise that she couldn’t have what she sometimes felt she wanted.

How could she?

At thirty years old with no opportunity for anywhere but forward along the path she’d always been afraid to step off of, there was nothing more for her but this. 

In the morning an argument took place in the kitchen, hushed and whispered so as to keep it muffled from the twins who were sleeping upstairs. Victor and Wanda had been discussing putting the twins into the summer preschool program for some time, as the private school they were planning on enrolling them in the fall semester had an optional preschool program.

He was on board up until this morning when Wanda brought up the idea that she use the free time to get a part-time job at a local newspaper company that was looking for journalists. 

Upset at her suggestion, he called her selfish and accused her of intentionally suggesting bringing the twins to preschool so she could waste time on her own self-absorbed endeavours. She tried to tell him that she felt she had to do more with herself, and that she didn’t only want to be a stay-at-home mother, especially when she had the education to pursue a career like he did. 

Rationally he couldn’t understand her wanting to find a job when he provided everything and more for their family, but it was her comparison of their likeness that set Victor off and he became furious and had trouble keeping his voice down, forcing Wanda to quickly abandon the idea of applying to the part-time job to keep him placated.

He left in a frustrated state though he ended up getting what he wanted, and Wanda woke the boys up for their first day of preschool. 

The two young boys had moved to cuddle up beside each other through the night, with Tommy having switched beds to sleep next to his brother.

Wanda woke the both of them, running her hands over their tiny heads and soft hair, and she watched as their little noses scrunched up and their short little arms unwrapped from each other's warm pyjama-clad bodies.

As she watched them arise, she thought to herself how lovely it would be to care for her sweet sons like this for a very long time, and she realised how not-so-terrible living a life without pursuing her other dreams would be. 

“G’Morning, mama,” Billy mumbled and his mother leaned down to kiss his scrunched up little nose. 

Oh, it wouldn’t be terrible at all. 

In the car after breakfast, Wanda explained to the twins what preschool was and how much fun it would be to meet new friends and play games a few days a week. The boys were thrilled and their mother was relieved, for Wanda didn’t wish to abandon the plan she and her husband had made by letting Tommy and Billy skip their first day, and she knew that if she let them stay home because of their whining, they’d whine all day until their father returned home in the evening.

But fortunately for her, the twins were ecstatic.

She didn’t know until her arrival that the first day was also when the parents were allowed a sit-in to allow the children to acclimate while also giving them a first-hand perspective of their child’s first day.

From the preschool calendar, she knew the potluck was on Friday but not that the first day was practically an orientation. If she knew, she would’ve insisted for Victor to take at least the morning off to join her in it.

The forty-minute long sit-in orientation where Wanda sat on a short plastic chair along the edge of the learning carpet along with all the other parents allowed for them to see for themselves that their children would get the most out of their preschool experiences, and that they could be relied on to care for their children.

As she gathered her things that were asked to be placed atop the class desks along with all the other parents’ belongings in the back, Wanda watched as the parents around her seemed to make fast friends. She wondered if they had all somehow known each other before the first day.

In any case, she felt lonely without her husband, especially as she watched her sons socialise joyfully with the other children of the class, watching the precious sight of their children take place without her husband with her.

She carefully slipped away along the walls from the groups of quietly chatting parents as they also gathered their things until a familiar voice made Wanda’s perk up as if she was suddenly summoned by dog whistle.

Darting her eyes around the busy room, Wanda walked forward slowly as her eyes raked through the classroom behind the heap of parents between her and the voice that seemed to come from the back of the classroom, to the right, and…

Wanda’s chest tightened painfully and her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of you. It was you with your hair but longer now, your height the same as it had been, your voice that was a few slight tweaks worth’s difference from the one that had been echoing in Wanda’s mind, albeit fainter these days, ever since the last she heard it in person.

Her hand reached back and she pressed the pad of her finger into a sharp edge of the cubbies behind her, sending a sharp pain up the nerves of her finger and forcing sound through its muffled barrier and finally freeing her locked joints. 

She tore her eyes away from you and stopped just before the doorframe of the classroom.

Carefully, when she had confidence in her breathing, Wanda raised her head and took another look at you. 

All the different ways she’d start a conversation with you ran through her mind and she soon began thinking of all the things she’d like to say, all the things she’d like to ask you and all the things she wanted to know about how you were living your life now.

But her fingers tightened around the doorknob and she looked over to it, seeing the gold of her wedding ring reflect the classroom lights. Then she suddenly felt unbecoming and terrible about herself, so she looked back and saw her boys enjoying themselves under the watch of the preschool teachers before she quietly slid out of the class.

When Victor came home early and agreed to go pick up the boys to make up for his absence at the sit-in, Wanda quickly looked through her closet and searched for the letters she received from you the summer she was with you during which she had a three-week long trip to Saint Petersburg with her family.

As the tips of her fingers felt the base of a small rectangular box, Wanda began slowly running the pads of her fingers along the bottom until they caught onto the slim edge of an old sheet of paper. 

Slowly as to not rip it, Wanda slid the paper out along the open space between the edge of the box and the other stacked mementos she’d kept since college.

Since you. 

Before she opened the letter, she questioned why she’d even gotten the urge to look for it and what she was initially intending for when she began searching for it. She looked down and saw the familiar loops and lines of your handwriting and she abandoned the train of thought, slowly unfolding the sheet and raising it up so she could read it. 

For some reason she felt guilty for how long it’d been since she last read from it, and the part of her from her younger years scolded her for stopping the way she used to run her eyes over every inch of your penmanship since the last time she was with you. 

Anyways, Wanda read through the letter and felt an addictive pulse resounding within her chest, a lightness and a sort of prickly sharp wave that seized her throat and travelled down into her lungs. 

As she let the recollection of having ever been worthy enough for this kind of love, reading the way you described how much you missed her while she was gone and how much you loved her, Wanda felt an odd sense of despair knowing such a thing could only ever exist for her through memory. 

She couldn’t quite ask herself whether she was mourning the kind of love that was written on the paper or just who she received it from. 

Still as she tucked away the letter and ran the tips of her fingers over the other stashed-away mementos in the box, Wanda still couldn’t figure out why she wanted to look for them in the first place, why seeing you today made her want to open the box hidden along the top back corner of her closet. 

But she still sorted through it, seeing a flyer for one of your college plays in there and a music CD you put together for her, and more small trinkets all with meaning and all safely-kept through the years to keep the memory of you stored.

Downstairs, the front door opened and along came the excited footsteps of Tommy and Billy, and Wanda tucked everything back into the box and placed it back into the top shelf of her side of the walk-in closet. 

Friday came around, and this time Victor did take a day off to go with Wanda to the potluck; parents and children alike from both the elementary and preschool were being invited to have lunch together for a traditional welcoming event for the start of the summer. 

Since Tommy and Billy had already made a handful of friends and were by then already quite attached to the idea of playing with their friends outside the classroom, they were dressed in their very best for the sunny day.

Wanda made a conscious effort to look her best too, for she knew that today she was finally going to come up with the confidence to start a conversation with you. She tried to approach it from a professional point of view, to see it as practical if anything to make connections with the preschool’s instructors.

But she couldn’t deny the way she kept adjusting and readjusting her hair in the side mirror of the car as Victor drove them to lunch, and that wasn’t really required of her to be practical.

Tommy and Billy tugged at their father’s hands and pulled them towards the preschool, excited to show him what he’d been missing while he was at work.

There were a bit more people than Wanda anticipated though the expansive playing field of the preschool was certainly enough for the size of both the preschoolers and the kindergarteners from the private school. So she carefully slipped through the crowds and towards the potluck’s tables to set down the dish she made at home.

She saw you there too amongst a line of other parents along the edge of the table filling their plates. 

You were one of the teachers’ assistants from what Tommy and Billy had told her during their many excited retellings of their days when they got back home.

Wanda inhaled sharply and kept the casserole dish in her hands as she subtly waited for the line of parents to clear so she could inch her way closer to you. She spotted a clearing on the table that was close to you and carefully set it down.

She pressed the pads of her fingers into the scalding ceramic to give herself some confidence and she looked up from the table of food, finally laying her eyes on your face within a metre from you for the first time in nearly eight years.

To seem as if she’d approached you naturally, Wanda cleared her throat a little and turned her body to face you. She tucked her hair behind her ear and parted her lips. 

It all seemed like she was moving too slowly — mechanically — while the beating of her heart made her feel like she was moving too quickly — messily.

“Hi,” she said, stupidly. She got your attention at least and you lifted your head and looked at her. 

It was then that Wanda felt she’d bitten off far more than she could chew as she felt herself seized by the sight of you. 

Your hair was longer, like she’d seen on Monday. You looked older now, but the years had been very kind to you. She felt herself ache. You looked so beautiful, and she felt she would be trapped in this moment forever, unable to look away from you, feeling that if she had, you might suddenly disappear for another eight years.

The slight stutter in your greeting might’ve indicated to anyone else that you did recognise her and that her presence in front of you had stunned you momentarily, but Wanda, caught up and otherwise distracted by the sight of you, didn’t notice and so she introduced herself.

“I don’t know if you remember me from college, but–”

You nodded and interrupted her, “Wanda.”

Wanda hoped you didn’t notice how her eyes fell to your lips as you said her name, listening with her interest piqued the most beautiful medley of sound as it came from the way your lips wrapped around each syllable of her name.

It felt like an eternity had passed before your eyes garnered her attention again and she replied with a smile that looked relieved, perhaps because of the fact that you’d remembered her. “How have you been doing? It’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been okay,” you answered simply, almost hesitant to share your present life with a figure of your past. 

You looked over to the other side of the sunny field where the twins were being carried on Victor’s shoulders. “They’re yours, right?” you asked, gesturing over to them. “Billy and Tommy.”

Wanda nodded proudly, looking over at her playing children before back over to you. “How did you know? Did they mention me?”

“Anyone who went to college with us still remembers the last name of the all-famous Victor Doom,” you said with a chuckle that might’ve seemed resentful to Wanda if she still wasn’t so taken by the sight of you.

“But, how are you?” you asked more seriously, straightening and looking at her. “You look great. What have you, uh, been doing? The last few years.”

She flushed when she watched you look down at her outfit and her hair and she fidgeted with her fingers, absently rubbing her thumb against tablecloth. “Not very much,” she answered. “I got married — to Victor, as you saw — then had Tommy and Billy.”

“That… sounds like a lot,” you said with a lighthearted laugh.

Wanda felt her heart beating against her ribs in a way that made her take in a breath to relieve the tension she felt in her chest as she listened to the way you laughed. She felt like a stupid flaky college sorority girl again.

“A lot, but not what I imagined for myself,” she confessed.

With an understanding nod, you then said, “You seem to be doing great for yourself, though.”

A cool wave of validation came over her and she beamed. “Thank you,” she responded. 

“A-And, you? Are you seeing any–”

Before Wanda could finish her question, one of the other instructors, one whose name Wanda did not know, called you over. You excused yourself and Wanda completely understood, allowing you to head over to where you were needed.

Although she had chances to approach you again throughout the afternoon, Wanda instead kept looking over at you from afar between conversations with her husband or other friends she miraculously made with other mothers. 

She didn’t want to press, and she was worried that the thrill of seeing you inflated her sense of reality, and she didn’t want to overstep or misread anything.

After all, the last you’d spoken wasn’t on very good terms and although the years may have done away with the wounds from what had happened, no amount of time could change a future friendship that might simply cease to exist because of the past.

So Wanda had to settle with having only a single brief conversation with the person whose letters she’d kept since college, and she left the potluck early with her husband so the boys could bring one of their friends home for a playdate.

To celebrate the start of the summer and the successful lunch, Wanda and Victor stopped at a farmer’s market that they passed in the car for ice cream with the twins and the friend they were bringing home.

As they waited in line, Wanda began to wander and eventually found herself in front of a handmade jewellery booth. She was initially looking in a solely appreciative way, not planning on buying anything but in awe of the shop owner’s talent until she laid her eyes on a pair of earrings.

She reached for them and brought them up into the light of the sun and out of her shadow so she could more clearly look at the tiny silver dolphins hanging from them. They were perhaps half an inch in size and really adorable and subtle.

The rest of her family caught up to her with ice cream in the young boys’ hands while Wanda had just purchased the dolphin earrings. She showed them to Tommy when he questioned what she’d bought.

“It’s so pretty,” Billy mused.

Wanda agreed, “It is really pretty.”

“Is it a gift, mama?” asked his twin.

“A little bit of one, maybe,” she answered with a contemplative hum then took his hand as the five of them headed back to the car together.

She’d wear it eventually.

Dolphins were your favourite animal.

That evening after the boys had gone to bed, Wanda straddled her husband’s hips in their bedroom, knees hugging either side of his lap as he guided her forward with his hands on her hips. He thrusted up into her while Wanda leaned forward with her hand flat beside his head to keep herself up. 

She was too much in her head to enjoy herself — not that Victor cared whether she was involved during sex, and she couldn’t stop thinking of the letter she reread earlier that week and the dolphin earrings she bought and how pretty you looked at the potluck.

With a final grunt and a particularly harsh thrust into her that made Wanda wince beyond the mess of her hair, Victor released into her and soon untensed. He lifted her from his hips and ran his hand down the side of her bare thigh, perhaps meant to be some act of affection, before turning onto his side with a satisfied exhale.

Wanda cleaned herself up in the washroom and once she finished washing her face before heading to bed, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt something curious and desolate, so she stepped forward to get a better look at herself.

She wasn’t under any form of illusion; she was well-aware of how she’d aged over the years, from occasional periodic observations like how her skin looked a tad different in certain places.

But under the burning scrutiny of the washroom lighting, all Wanda could see were smile lines and signs of ageing and reminders upon reminders about how differently she looked from the last time she was with you in college.

Ever since she saw you for the first time in eight years on Monday, you were her landmark in time for nearly everything. She made dozens of comparisons a day, seeing how much things had changed and when the last time she thought of something was — minuscule things that seemed significant when she wondered about how you saw things from your perspective. 

Tonight, she wondered how you might think of how she looked now. 

She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for, but Wanda knew she’d been hoping for something because the very sight of how she looked in the mirror made her feel let-down, almost hopeless. 

And you looked so pretty at the potluck.

There were things about herself that she was glad had changed since college, but she wasn’t in any way thrilled about how much she seemed to have aged. 

Victor had brought it up a handful of times before, but it was only under the light of the washroom with the thought of you in mind that Wanda realised how right he was. 

Wanda wasn’t sure how exactly she was feeling by the time she shut the washroom light off and went to bed, but she knew that she was certainly glad to finally pull her attention away from the mirror and to think of only you when she closed her eyes instead of her reflection.

Over the next week or so, Wanda tried her best to be impartial with how she approached driving the boys to and from preschool while also ensuring that she only behaved as any other mother would around you. 

She allowed Victor to drop the twins off and pick them up without insisting she go along just to see you, and if she did catch sight of you, she’d try her best to wave only when it seemed necessary — when anyone else would’ve done it. 

The feelings that buried themselves deep within Wanda’s chest ever since she first saw you nearly three weeks ago had begun to overcome her in a way that she could only rely on convention to ensure she was behaving as she should. 

But after a while she began to miss interacting with you and after an amount of time she started to feel picky about how to approach you again. 

Fortunately, Tommy and Billy’s birthdays were approaching and they were adamant about having you there; it gave her an excuse to start a conversation with you. 

So while Wanda went to pick the boys up from school, she approached you while you were with the kids, waiting for them to get picked up by the rest of the parents as they played outside. 

“Hi, Y/N,” she greeted with a smile, elated at the feeling of saying your name out loud. 

She was standing on the outside of the picket fence while you were on the other side, turning to face her. 

“Oh, hey!” you said and smiled too in a way that made Wanda feel like she wasn’t being too awkward. “Let me get the twins for you.”

Before you could leave, Wanda quickly interjected, “Actually, I was wondering if I’d be able to ask you something.”

You seemed the slightest bit wary and that brought about a twinge of sadness within Wanda, but she pressed on anyway; she could understand why you’d be doubtful of her intentions, even after all the years that’s passed. 

“This is... a little embarrassing to ask,” she began hesitantly, “but the twins begged for me to invite you to their birthday party this Sunday, so I was wondering if you’d like to come. They talk about you a lot and I think they’d just like for their favourite person to attend.”

She probably talked too much. 

“Favourite person, huh?” you repeated with an amused smile. 

Wanda was reassured by your lighthearted response. “Their words,” she said. 

“And their mother and father?”

“Forgotten — completely.”

You both laughed, though Wanda a moment after you as she was initially taken by the sight of sheer joy on your face, caused all because of her. 

After taking a moment to seriously consider the offer, you said, “Sunday? I can’t do that day, sorry. Would I be able to drop off a gift instead on Saturday?”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Wanda reassured with a wave of her hand. “Actually, we’re having dinner with just the four of us on Saturday, so you’re welcome to join us then instead.”

You had a feeling that Wanda was sort of trying her best to have you attend something for the twins, but a part of you also felt she was trying hard just to have you there. 

Though you knew you were completely free on Saturday, you took a moment before answering to look a bit less rushed in responding to Wanda’s offer. 

“Saturday should work,” you confirmed with a nod. 

Wanda perked up and smiled, thrilled at succeeding in inviting you over for dinner. “Alright. That sounds good.”

She watched as you pulled your phone out from your pocket and she swallowed, forcing herself not to hope too much from what you were about to do, as you easily could’ve been checking the time. 

But then you asked, “Would you mind if I got your number? So you can text me the address and all.”

Wanda hoped her fingers weren’t trembling as much as she felt they were as she reached forward and took your phone with an attempt at a professional nod.

“Of course,” she managed to say, repressing the onset of an excited smile.

You caught sight of her flushed cheeks and the forming dimples as she held back a smile, but you weren’t entirely sure what it meant.

Years ago you would’ve pinned it as a flattered blush, hints of a heart tenderly-touched and a sensitive soul. But the Wanda you eventually came to know… was disingenuous. 

Most things with her were. 

You tried not to be bitter and childish about what had happened years ago though you were almost certain that people like her didn’t change; you had to look away.

On Saturday evening, Wanda had finished getting dressed in something casual for a dinner at home but formal enough for having a guest over, and she was standing in front of her vanity surveying the dolphin earrings in the palm of her hand. 

She hadn’t worn them yet; she was saving them for a special occasion, for when she really wanted to make a gesture. 

But the silver of the dolphins were too reflective and the shape of the animal would’ve been clear from even two metres away, and that wasn’t subtle enough for the steadily-budding rekindling between her and you. 

So she opened her jewellery box and tucked the earrings away safely for a different time — a time she hoped would eventually come.

And most importantly, Wanda didn’t want to drive you away. 

Wanda was in the kitchen putting together some drinks when you knocked at the front door, gift in-arm. She looked over at the door, feeling a fury of anxious butterflies burst in her stomach as the reality set in that she was going to have dinner with you. 

Victor announced that he’d get the door and descended from upstairs where he’d been helping the boys get dressed for their very special guest. 

From the kitchen, Wanda could hear you greet her husband at the door and she began to steady her breathing. She focused instead on carefully placing mint into the cocktail glasses. 

“Is she… here?” she asked Victor over her shoulder in the most inconspicuous way she could when he stepped into the kitchen to check on the food.

“She’s waiting in the den,” he answered. “I told her you’d come around with drinks.”

Wanda told him it’d only be a few minutes until the rice and stir-fry would be ready, so he went back up to help finish getting the twins dressed before dinner was served.

On top of the fireplace in the den was a framed picture of Wanda’s college sorority, and leaning close to take a better look at it felt like peering into a sort of time machine. It felt like a completely different life, yet you could almost just recall things like when exactly the photo was taken as if it’d happened only months ago. 

The photo was of the entire sorority coming together to take a picture before campus closed for a week for the holidays. It was during a sorority event at the city’s ice rink, and you recalled being dragged over to it by Wanda, who was your girlfriend at the time. 

You were posed together near the corner of the group of other girls, Wanda’s arms squeezed around your shoulders while she stood on a pair of ice skates. 

“I made this for you,” a voice approached from behind, and you turned to see Wanda walking into the den with a drink in both hands. “A mojito. But for yours, without any alcohol because I know you’ll be driving home.”

She was wearing a red turtleneck and slacks. She had an expensive-looking watch on and pearl earrings, and for the first time you considered how rich she must be now that she was married to Victor Doom. 

Wanda saw the drink in the cocktail glass tremble slightly before you finally took it from her with a ‘thank you’ and she rubbed her palm down her hip nervously. 

The warmth from the fireplace made her cheeks feel so warm, and the shade of the fire made your skin look so pretty and soft with the way the gentle orange flickered against your face.

“So you have this picture here,” you noted and took a sip of the mojito as you gestured to the framed picture. “Framed and up on the mantle.”

Wanda tapped her fingernail against the side of the glass as she looked at the photo over your shoulder.

Damn. 

She forgot to take it down before you came, and now she looked obsessive and childish and overbearing. She would understand if you saw it that way, for there was really only one reason she’d ever have that photo up in her house, and she looked at it every single time she passed it since she moved in. 

“Y-Yes,” Wanda stuttered and straightened, feeling the condensation from the glass trickle down her fingers. She smiled a little, because she was a bit proud of the picture.

She couldn’t read your expression, not when your back was turned, until you looked back at her and said in a lighthearted tone, “You must’ve not changed very much since college, huh?”

It wasn’t accusing or rude, and Wanda felt that it would’ve hurt less if you had said it as an insult; you said it as if you’d never expected her to be different.

Even if it were true that Wanda hadn’t changed since college, the realisation wouldn’t have even disappointed you.

You would’ve expected it, and that made something behind Wanda’s ribcage ache. 

Her lips parted to say something, perhaps to protest, but she couldn’t figure out what she wanted to say before the shrill cheers of Tommy and Billy ran into the room at the sight of you.

Wanda stepped back and allowed them to tackle you excitedly before you set the mojito on the coffee table so you could lean down and hug them, wishing them both an early happy birthday. 

She listened, partially-absent, as you told the boys you’d give them their gifts after dinner. She watched you mostly, and how little you’d changed in the way you laughed and teased. 

Did it always feel like this, eight years ago?

Had she been so cruel with you that you truly couldn’t believe she was one to change after so long?

Was this the first time, out of all the inevitable others, that she realised the hurt she made you feel?

Victor called from the kitchen announcing that the dinner was ready and Wanda blinked out of her stupor to kiss the foreheads of her children and let you walk ahead first as the twins led you forward. 

You looked so pretty wearing a knit pullover that made everything about you look so soft and smelling of sweet sparkling champagne.

The mojito made her a little tipsy and she felt her face’s warmth as she kept looking up from her plate and over at you across the table where you were discussing all sorts of things with Tommy and Billy, who were still practically buzzing with joy at having you over for dinner. 

She watched your lips as they moved, imagined you reciting the words from the letter you wrote her years ago — imagined you meaning them like you did back then too.

Since she reread the letter for the first time in a while just three weeks ago, she could recall every word of it again like she used to be able to when she was much younger.  

She felt ashamed of herself and looked away from you to spare her dignity, though it would not be the last time she did.

For most of the dinner, Wanda was silent; Victor was always more of the talker between the two of them, she liked getting to watch you without the fear of sounding obsessive, and she very much enjoyed listening to you interact with the twins without interrupting. 

It was only during the gift-opening after dinner that Wanda blurted out in the middle of a conversation. 

They were opening up a wrapped book to see a picture book guide of dolphins, and Wanda was only halfway into feeling shocked about the coincidence before Billy giggled and said, “You really like dolphins as much as mama said.”

“What?” Wanda all but coughed out. 

Billy excitedly flipped through the book and insisted, “Mama, you said.”

“I…” She cleared her throat and her eyes flickered over to your face, half-expecting you to be furious for some reason. “I-I said what, Billy?”

“That Y/N likes dolphins,” Tommy answered and looked up from the book, now confused by his mother’s confusion.

Wanda shook her head insistently. “I don’t think I…” She trailed off and brought the rim of her mojito up to her lips to shut herself up. 

Her avoidance of your eyes made her miss how you looked across the dinner table at her and her flushed cheeks. 

Victor made a joke about how forgetful his wife was and although it was a tad too degrading for dinner with their children, Wanda was thankful for it anyways for it cancelled out any impending awkward silences caused by her inability to behave properly around you. 

Just how much had she been thinking of you to the point of completely tuning out when she spoke about you in front of her children?

“We’ve been talking a lot about dolphins at school,” you said and wiggled your eyebrows at them. “We’re learning about our favourite animals.”

You reached into the bag and pulled out two adorable stuffed animals, a horse and a red cardinal — the twins’ favourites. 

As they cheered and stood from their seats to round the table and hug you tightly, Wanda felt a mix of emotion whirling within her, a sense of shame and humiliation, but also so much adoration for you.

To the boys’ dismay, their bedtime came quicker than it felt it had and Wanda had to put them to bed. They both whined although having been given an extra hour to stay up for their birthday dinner with Y/N, but like the sweet boys they were, eventually listened to their mother’s delicate discipline. 

Her greatest, greatest prides.

They were good boys. 

Wanda had the twins say goodnight to you and thank you for coming, then excused herself for a moment to put them to bed. She’d come back down to see you out, but until then you promised to help clean up after dinner with Victor.

“You know, I remember a lot about you from college,” Victor told you as he handed you a glass to dry. 

You placed the dry glass onto the rack beside the sink then replied, “I remember a lot about you too. Though, uh, we didn’t really talk, I think.”

“Yeah, but I talked a lot with Wanda,” he said. “And she’d blabber about you, like, every other day sometimes. So it feels like I know you well.”

Something about that made you bristle; you didn’t want to be known by Victor Doom. 

When you were finished with the dishes, Victor dried his hands and leaned against the sink, scrutinising you in an odd way. 

“You look good,” he then complimented. 

The flicker in his eyes suddenly became perceptible, and you quickly picked up on what he was trying to inch closer to. 

You eyed the front foyer then looked back over to him to continue seeing civil. “Thank you,” you answered simply. 

He was tall. 

Imposing. 

“Are you with anyone I’d know from college?” he asked, moving the dish cloth between his fingers.

“No.”

He scoffed in teasing disbelief. “I’m not under any illusion that…” He trailed off with a chuckle, leaving the rest of his words to imagination. “Especially when time’s done you so well.”

You felt like tearing your hair out and you felt a dozen weights being lifted from your shoulders when you heard Wanda begin to descend the staircase. 

“Give me your number,” Victor then asked in a hushed, hurried tone. “We’ll set something up.”

Wanda reaching the bottom of the staircase allowed you to quickly slip out of the constricting corner of the kitchen and you grabbed your things from the sofa in the den before following you out to the front porch. 

Victor Doom was still a huge dick, and you were beginning to have a terrible perspective on the couple. They didn’t change at all, and you weren’t sure what you came to the dinner anticipating, but knowing that Victor was still the kind of man Wanda was comfortable being married to planted an indescribable bitterness in you. 

“Thank you for coming,” Wanda said quietly as the warm silence of the summer evening soon enveloped the two of you alone on the porch when she closed the front door. 

“The boys really, really enjoyed having you over. I’m sure they’ll be talking about it for weeks,” she added with a laugh. 

You nodded and turned to look at her. “Yeah. It’s no problem, I really enjoyed celebrating with them. They’re lovely,” you answered.

Being in front of you now, Wanda wanted to say a lot and wanted to ask you about everything you’d been up to over the last eight years. 

There was no one to interrupt now, and it would be alright and objectively appropriate to start some small talk about your life while also being able to hide her buzzing curiosity behind convention. 

But all she could find herself telling you was one thing — all that she could get past her lips. 

“I really… I really have changed since college, Y/N,” she uttered quietly, pressing her nail into the pad of her thumb in front of her stomach.

It was important to her that you knew that for some reason. 

You regarded her for a moment then nodded, and Wanda seemed relieved at what seemed to her as trust established. 

The moment you stepped onto the porch, you told yourself how irritated you were at both Wanda and Victor, how unimpressed and upset you’d felt because of how little she’d changed since college. 

Yet all you could think about on the way home was her.

It felt that something was gnawing at you from the inside, pricking at your skin each time it fought its way closer to realisation, but still you couldn’t figure out why you felt the way you did with Wanda.

For years the feeling had been asleep within you, unwoken and put to bed the day of college graduation when you caught sight of Wanda trying to approach you before you left the graduation ceremony. 

That was the last you ever saw of her before earlier this month. 

It was painful to recall the time you used to spend with her, but freeing, in a way. 

You remembered how idiotically in love you were with her at the time, how naive and new everything felt. It was torturous to recall how it all ended up, but… thinking about how she used to make you feel made you feel exhilarated and you wondered if what you were doing was some sort of sick form of masochism. 

All the music CDs burned for her to play when she was away from you, the letters to her written with a careful hand — all so childish that it was worthy of some form of envy. 

You questioned if you were envious of the childish-like view of the world that you had when you were in love with Wanda or if it was the love itself. 

Either way, it was an unreachable thing of the past. 

You grew up, and Wanda…. was Wanda. She always would be. 

Weeks before the actual breakup, things had begun to dwindle between you and your girlfriend. She took frequent rain checks on your plans together to be able to tend to the sorority as the end of the year was approaching and the group traditionally began recruiting for the next year before the summer. 

But at the same time, your theatre was finally putting on the show they’d spent all year putting together, months of hard work spent on funding and prop and costume design — everything from the casting to the lighting crew was created from scratch since the start of September. 

You understood, time and time again, that Wanda had her own priorities with her own friends and hobbies. She helped with some things where she could, and you loved when she did. 

Some late nights were spent designing costumes together because Wanda had always been interested in fashion, and oftentimes she helped with those designs while you worked on putting together props. 

She wasn’t a college student or a sorority girl when you spent those late evenings together — she was just Wanda. But sometimes you felt like even Wanda didn’t know who she was during those years, and that was hard to keep up with. 

In spite of missing your practices and flaking on days where she promised to read over your scripts or touch up on the costumes, Wanda vowed to make it for your play’s showing.

The only issue was that on the same day there was an initiation for the new recruits, and Wanda was required to attend as an upcoming alumni. 

It would end before your showing and although there’d be an afterparty to celebrate, she also promised that she’d go right to the theatre to watch once the initiation ended.

Anxiously, you stood by the edge of the stage behind the curtains with a clear view of the front doors as you waited for Wanda to arrive. She had a seat in the front row where you could see her from anywhere to the right of the stage behind the curtains so you could watch her reactions to her performers wearing her designs. 

Then a few anxious minutes turned into half an hour, and she still hadn’t come. 

By then you knew that the initiation was over because Wanda gave you a definite time it would be finished by, which was well before the start of the play.

You sent her a few texts, but by the second to last act, you knew she wasn’t coming and you stopped messaging.

Maybe it was unfair to place her attendance on the kind of pedestal you did, because it wasn’t any sort of objective truth how important it was that she came. 

It was a play you helped write while thinking of her, props you made sitting with her in the living room — just the two of you, hours upon hours painting and writing and designing all while trying to see the set through her eyes.

You imagined you knew her well enough to see from her shoes, anyways. 

A whole year’s effort for her. 

It wasn’t like you told her any of that; not even you knew how important Wanda had been to every single thing you did until you were broken up. 

When Wanda finally arrived, she burst through the theatre doors, heels in hand. She looked like she’d been running, as she was out of breath and a bit dazed as she looked around at the empty theatre.

And the soft flush of her cheeks and the mess of her hair.

She was drunk too.

You were packing up the last of the props into boxes on your own when Wanda stepped up to the stage and looked for someone. 

“Is… Did I miss it?” she asked, slowly catching her breath. 

“Guess,” was all you could manage to force out from the bitter feeling that squeezed the air out of your lungs.

She caught sight of the props you were putting away; some of them were things she could recall making with you. She remembered helping you hot glue some of them together and pick out the paint and cut up the little details. 

She felt terrible. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I lost track of time. Really, I did. I didn’t mean to miss your play. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you should’ve cared about it enough that coming to see something important to me wasn’t an extra effort to you.”

You closed the stage curtains and stepped down from the staircase leading out to the side where the door to the theatre was, and Wanda followed behind you. 

You placed the prop box down by the foot of the staircase. 

“I know you were busy, but I just thought you’d prioritise your own girlfriend over some stupid sorority,” you muttered. 

The anger was well-founded, yet the way you insulted Wanda’s interests wasn’t. But you were so upset and jealous and you felt so belittled.

Maybe she felt the same way too, because Wanda quickly countered, “You don’t have to make me feel bad about it. I just apologised. And besides, it’s not like you had anything that important going on here.”

Your face contorted and you turned to look at her. 

“What?” you asked.

Although seemingly hesitant for a moment, the drinks Wanda had earlier catapulted her emotions forward and in the moment, she’d say anything to get a reaction from you just to make herself feel better about what she did. 

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have something important happen to you, Y/N, because you always give me shit for pursuing the things I care about,” she argued. 

With a disbelieving scoff, you replied, “I ‘give you shit’ sometimes because I want you here with me. I wanted you here! And I’ve always understood when you had other things to do.”

“You would want that, because you have nothing going on without me anyways.”

Sensing criticism in her tone, you questioned, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you could never understand having real things matter to you, because all you have is this idiotic nerdy theatre shit and nothing else important, so you leech off of me to make yourself feel better for at least having someone who’s actually doing something with their lives close to you.”

Wanda didn’t know why she said that, and even in the moment she hated the taste of her words as she spat them out. But she said them, still. 

She loved how nerdy and creative and hardworking you were. She adored you so much — looked up to you. 

Hours she’d spent listening to you talk about how much you loved theatre and watching performances with you online. She loved the part of you that loved theatre and film and art; she thought it was endearing and adorable, and it made you the most creative and sensitive person she knew. 

The argument pressed on, both of you fueled by the insecurity of not being prioritised by the person you loved. Perhaps all either of you needed was to confess that you really did care about the other, for in your own ways, it felt to both of you that it had become lost somewhere along the line.

Wanda felt criticised and betrayed that you would look down on her, that you saw yourself as so different from her. The entire sorority paled in comparison to you, but the feeling that you thought you were truly that different from her, that someone else would be better for you instead, made Wanda say just about anything to get some sort of emotion out of you.

In a way you felt the same, constantly feeling that Wanda prioritised things more than she did you. You were patient and understanding with her and your love for her remained in the face of her distance, but where did that get you if she didn’t care about you anyway?

In the heat of the moment, someone accidentally nudged the prop box and made everything in it drop and clatter to the ground. 

The loud noise of broken props you and Wanda had spent countless nights working on together put an abrupt stop to the argument. 

There was a particular prop that tumbled out of the box and broke, a small chalice that took hours to design to make it as historically accurate as possible for the play, put together by an actual blacksmith that Wanda knew, and intricately decorated by the both of you afterwards over Indian takeout and the span of two movies. 

Wanda felt so terrible looking at it, and how its base was bent and its handle broken off. 

“I think I’m done,” you said suddenly and started getting your things from a small closet beside the exit. “I think we’re done.”

It took a few moments for Wanda to process your words, blinking in the face of watching you begin to pack up and leave her. Then she managed to utter, “What?”

“We should break up before the school year ends. Let’s stop pretending this is gonna work out, okay? Just focus on our own stuff while we can.”

Wanda scoffed out a nervous laugh and she approached you, stepping over the broken props. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not breaking up because of… of this. Y/N. Come on.”

“Why not?” you asked and zipped your jacket up. “Be honest with yourself and try to tell me that you see this working out any better than it already has been.”

If Wanda were more sober and less overwhelmed, she would’ve told you just that, because she loved you and she knew she could give you what you needed — what you deserved. 

She would gladly apologise for what she did and how she’d been treating you, and she’d be honest about how she’d been feeling too. 

And if you were thinking properly, not acting rashly, not too emotionally, you would’ve taken a step back and realised how much Wanda did love you.

Maybe you still would’ve wanted more of her — more of her attention, more of her affection — but you would’ve told her that too, and Wanda would’ve felt like the most important person in the world for being wanted so much by you. 

But none of that happened.

Instead, Wanda began pleading, “Please don’t leave me. Y/N… No one really likes me but you. You know that. No one knows me, really. You’re all I have.”

“You have your sorority,” you muttered and pulled your hat on.

Wanda started to cry then, almost immediately brought to tears by the suggestion that her sorority could mean anything to her like you do. 

Was she so terrible that she'd led you to believe that was even possible?

“I don’t care about them like that, and they don’t even really like me. They don’t like anyone,” Wanda insisted tearily. “But you like me. I know you do.”

She wrapped her fingers around your hand and tried to hold it. 

“Please don’t leave,” she begged. 

Recalling it now made you feel like the worst person in the world — truly. 

In spite of the situation and what happened, Wanda really had been trying. She was crying in front of you and begging you to see that your relationship was stronger than you thought it was, and that she cared about you more than you realised. 

And all you could do was be bitter and cold and look away from her, pull your hand away when she held it and turn your back to her weeping. 

What were you protecting back then?

Your ego? 

Back then you wondered if it was a worthy trade-off, and today while you drove back home from Wanda’s house, you wondered the same. 

In the morning you continued to think about Wanda, and for an inexplicable reason, even checked your phone for a message from her. 

It’d been a while since you did that. 

But you didn’t hear from Wanda until Monday when she picked the boys up from school, and by then you’d been thinking a lot about change and the breakup and if it was possible to be normal with each other again. 

“I wanted to… to apologise. For dinner on Saturday,” Wanda said to you the moment she stepped down from her car, walking up to you waiting by the front door of the school. She was bold about it, didn’t hesitate before apologising for something you weren’t sure needed apologising for. 

“What are you apologising for?” you asked curiously, looking between her and the children being picked up by their parents. 

You doubted that Wanda knew her husband tried to get your number, but you were almost sure that she at least knew about the infidelity. 

Had she really settled for someone like that?

Victor was who Wanda started going out with after you broke up, and it bewildered you that she was still with him. 

Didn’t she at least once think that she could do better?

She indeed knew about the infidelity — she’d known since college. But what was she meant to do about it? She’d begged him for normalcy and to upkeep appearances for Billy and Tommy, but she couldn’t beg for him to love her like a husband did his wife.

Nor could he.

Wanda spun her wedding ring around her finger anxiously. “I just felt that things might’ve been uncomfortable for you, and I would never want to make you feel that way. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

It felt like she was talking a lot faster than you could catch up with.

“I-I can get ahead of myself sometimes, and if I said anything to make you feel… uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

The sight reminded you all too well of that evening in the theatre — Wanda’s nervous fidgeting and her apologetic tone, and most of all, the pleading to keep you close. 

It was different now, of course, because it was in a different context. But it was the same, really. 

It was always Wanda begging you to stay with her. 

“It’s… alright. You’ve done nothing to make me uncomfortable,” you reassured, and Wanda smiled. 

Then you scratched at the back of your neck and looked away awkwardly before saying, “Listen, it’s kind of stupid, but I have, um…” 

You hesitated to say it because of the subject matter, but Wanda was patient and so understanding as she regarded you with such kind eyes as she waited for you to continue. 

For the first time you noticed how a part of Wanda had aged — changed, even. She looked older in the way she looked at you, the innocent levity ever present but now wrapped in the years that have passed and the maturity that came with it.

Wanda reached out a little and brushed the pad of her thumb across your knuckles softly, reminding you that it was okay to say to her what you wanted. 

She did change — but not all of her. 

Though you’d been so adamant about wanting her to be different from college, you found that you really enjoyed knowing some parts of her were exactly the same.

The parts you loved. 

And the parts of her that were different you wanted to get to know too. 

You’ve seen how hard she was trying with you, and you were finally determined to do the same for her. 

“I have some play going on this weekend. I helped put it together with a few theatre friends from college,” you said finally. “So, if you wanna come, I can get some tickets for you and Victor.” 

Wanda’s interest was immediately piqued and she straightened, her eyebrows raising as her lips parted to accept the offer.

But you added hurriedly, “But you really don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know it’s not really your thing.”

“N-No! I’d really love to go,” Wanda insisted with a reassuring nod. “Would it be alright if I just went on my own?”

Imagining Wanda going alone to one of your plays made the offer a lot more intimate than you initially planned it to be, and the ease at which she suggested it made your breath catch in your throat. 

Wanda took it as she was being too forward and she immediately began explaining, “It’s just that Victor gets impatient with those sorts of things and I wouldn’t want to have you waste a ticket.”

“Yeah, I get it. Totally,” you replied and cleared your throat. “Yeah, sure. Just you. I’ll text you an entry ticket and they’ll just scan the barcode on it before you go in.”

“Okay,” she said with a reaffirming nod and a wide smile. “So, this weekend? When, Saturday?”

You corrected, “Sunday. At eight.”

“I’ll save the date,” Wanda said, practically beaming. She couldn’t believe how lucky she’d gotten. 

Maybe she hadn’t been as unfortunate with her attempts as she felt she’d been.

Was it apologising for dinner that got her an invite to your play? Or did the twins win all your affection for her?

Or maybe you just blurted out the invitation without really thinking it through, and you regretted it the moment it came out of your mouth.

If that was the truth, Wanda would try her hardest to make sure you’d end up enjoying having invited her. She’d be what you deserved eight years ago, and she’d show you that she still could be what you deserved now.

After that, she wasn’t sure what would happen; expecting anything more than your forgiveness would be selfish. 

Almost every day until Sunday came, Wanda sorted through her closet and her jewellery box to put together an outfit for you. She’d be wearing it and it was ultimately up to her whether she wore it, but it was for you. 

As she picked out a cream knit sweater and a floor-length black skirt, she thought about how you’d like her outfit and also wondered what you might think of the perfume she chose too. 

When it was the evening of the play, Wanda put her hair back into a French twist — this she did with the intention of not seeming too much like how she looked in college, as never she wore her hair up in something so formal back then. 

Wanda laid the dolphin earrings in her palm and surveyed it as she wondered whether it would be okay to wear it tonight. She worried about making too big of a gesture where it wasn’t appropriate, but there was a chance you wouldn’t notice she was wearing them at all.

After several moments of deep consideration, she took off her pearl earrings and put on the ones with the small silver dolphins hanging from them. 

You swore you hadn’t been this nervous leading up to the play’s first performance until tonight. You’d worked on plenty since college and it wasn’t like this was anything like your first project since graduation. 

Why were you so nervous?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you took it out to silence your notifications until you read the text message.

It was Wanda, and she messaged: I got a spot in the front row! I’m excited!

When you stepped out from backstage and stood beside the edge of the curtains to be able to get a little glimpse into the crowd, you looked for her, eyes sorting through the front row of the audience. 

In the midst of the soft buzzing from the crowd’s chatter and an audience of nearly three-hundred people, you saw Wanda sitting in the front where she said she was. She wasn’t with Victor or the twins; she came alone like she said she would, even though you ended up sending her three extra tickets in case she changed her mind. 

The very sight of her made you ache, a thrumming longing beating at your sternum as you watched her look around at the theatre and adjust her skirt.

Quickly, before the performance started, you messaged back, I see you. You look great.

You wished so badly to have been able to see her face when she read the text, but you were pulled over to help with the lighting last minute. 

When the curtains finally opened, you checked your phone one more time and saw Wanda’s message: Thank you. :) 

The theatre lights dimmed and lights from the stage turned on and your position at the far-left of the curtains allowed you to see her much clearer — like you’d wanted to do years ago.

You paid little attention to what was going on during the performance, though you miraculously kept enough focus to be able to do things like help keep the performers on time with their costume changes. But mostly you were watching Wanda.

In a theatre full of hundreds of people, she was your only audience. 

During pauses in the script where the theatre was full of only silence, you could hear the pulsing of your heart and for a moment forgot it’d ever done anything but beat only while you watched how pretty Wanda looked in the pale light of the theatre’s stage.

When the play came to a finish and the curtains closed, the crew and performers gave their thanks to the audience before the theatre lights were turned back on and some of the crew and performers lined up by the door to thank people as they filed out of the theatre.

The line shorted gradually and the crowd of people made it so that you couldn’t spot Wanda, and though you’d completely understand if she already left — after all, she didn’t need to stay to do anything else — a part of you hoped she stuck around a little.

But not for any particular reason, for you didn’t even know what you’d say to her if she did; you just wanted to see her wait for you. 

“Hi,” a soft voice greeted, and you turned your head away from the theatre doors to the woman in front of you. 

Wanda.

The sight of her made you rather nervous, and you realised you’d been worrying a lot about whether she’d enjoy the play. 

Your only audience. 

It was her opinion you cared about the most.

With a smile that made her own widen at the sight, you replied, “Hi.”

“I really liked it,” she told you. “The performers were incredible.”

“I’m… I’m really happy you liked it,” you said, internally feeling pretty relieved. “Yeah, they’re super talented. We had to move around a few dates, actually, so they’d be able to perform for us.”

“And the script…” Wanda said, something brief and unsaid exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. But the question that was implied wasn’t answered when she added, “The script was wonderful too.”

Someone approached from behind and waited around Wanda to be able to talk with you, so she uttered, “I should leave. Thank you for inviting me. I really loved being able to watch.”

You nodded once and smiled cordially at her, but the sight of her turning and heading for the theatre doors reminded you all too well of something similar from years ago and you reached out suddenly and took her hand. She stopped and looked down at your hand wrapped around hers. 

Her fingers twitched before she looked up at you. 

“Stay,” you said and took a breath. “Until I’m done here.”

An unusual feeling began to grow within her as she ran her eyes over your face, seeing the hesitancy that seemed to make the corner of your mouth twitch as you anticipated her response and the look in your eyes that meant something she couldn’t interpret.

Her throat tightened and Wanda had to swallow to ease the tension there so she could reply to you.

“Okay,” she replied, hoping you didn’t hear the way her breath caught in her throat when your fingers tightened around her hand. “I’ll wait in the hall.”

Was she stuttering when she answered? She couldn’t tell.

She focused only on keeping her legs steady as she moved one foot in front of the other, her thumb rubbing at the heel of her hand as the feeling of your fingers running down her palm when you let go of her hand lingered even when the doors closed behind her.

Minutes felt like seconds in that hallway where Wanda waited for you. It felt like time simply ceased to exist there when her mind ran rampant with what it might’ve meant that you invited her to see your play and asked her to wait for you.

She wondered if things would’ve gone just like this if she had come to your play like she promised eight years ago.

The theatre lights turned off and you stepped into the hallway once the doors opened, exchanging a smile with Wanda who straightened from the adjacent wall and stepped towards you.

“Thanks for waiting,” you said gratefully. “Sorry for taking so long. There was a problem with the lighting again.”

“It’s totally okay. I didn’t wait long at all,” Wanda reassured. Then she said, “You’ve always been such a talented scriptwriter. I’m glad I got a front row seat to your play.”

Her words made you flush and the way she looked at you with such innocent and sincere optimism in her eyes that presently glistened with the dim light of the hallway made you stutter until you were finally able to thank her.

You cleared your throat and said, “You really do look great tonight, by the way. I mean, a lot better now because I can see you more clearly. Compared to before, like, behind a curtain.”

That made Wanda laugh and she nodded. “I get it. Thank you,” she replied. She was glad that you liked how she looked. She wore it all for you, after all.

Really, neither of you knew what you were expecting when you made time for each other alone. You didn’t know what you had wanted when you asked Wanda to stay, and she didn’t know what she’d been hoping to get out trying her hardest to be friendly with you again.

“Did you drive yourself here?” asked Wanda.

“No, I got a ride from one of my friends. He had to drop something off at his place, so he’ll come back to get me. His car couldn’t fit me in there with the set stuff.”

Immediately, Wanda offered, “I can drive you home. You don’t have to wait for your friend.”

“Really? You don’t have to. I don’t wanna bother you.”

“It’s not a bother at all. Tommy and Billy are out of town visiting Victor’s parents, so I don’t have to be home early to make them dinner or anything.”

Things seemed to be going well — really well. But you still weren’t sure what you wanted from all this. 

Maybe there wasn’t anything to want.

Maybe you and Wanda would just end up being casual friends who went out for lunch sometimes when she was free or went with her to her pilates classes when she could bring a friend. 

That was kind of amusing; you couldn’t ever imagine someone like her being a casual anything in your life.

Knowing Wanda would never be something casual.

“Would you mind if we stopped at my place before I drop you off? I have something I’d like to give you,” Wanda told you as she buckled her seatbelt then started the car.

With a piqued interest, you asked, “What kinda thing?”

“A surprise,” she teased and grinned at you. 

That made you feel all warm. It reminded you a lot of how you remembered her when you used to go out. She was such a tease back then.

Seeing her behave in some ways like how you remembered her but now dressed in expensive jewellery and clothes with shorter hair and a more mature face made her teasing even more endearing.

She talked a little about the twins and how their birthday party went, all the while you were watching how the streetlights casted on her face. Her face had become less round over the years and the pale lights from the street she drove down made the angle of her cheekbones cast a particularly sharp shadow along her face, making her face look sculpted, but by hand, like a Grecian statue.

Her nose was the same.

Her eyes crinkled at the sides when she smiled over at you after perhaps noticing you watching her. That was different from when you were together — the way she smiled — and you liked that a lot. So you didn’t care that she caught you. 

If you had looked away, you wouldn’t have seen how she looked when she smiled at you.

“Come in and wait in the den,” she told you when you arrived before leading you into the house. She set her purse down beside your things on the couch then started the fireplace. “I’ll just be a second. I have to get it for you upstairs.”

Somehow the room looked different now knowing it was only Wanda at home.

You looked at the picture you had been staring at the last time you were here, and even that looked different too. You’d noticed how Wanda was hugging you when you last saw the picture, but now you couldn’t stop looking away from her.

And how happy she looked with you.

Wanda came down from upstairs and you could see her holding something for the fireplace reflected off of what looked like metal.

When she stepped into the den, you could see she was holding some kind of prop.

It was the chalice the two of you worked on years ago that broke.

“Oh my god. You still have this?” you mused and carefully took it with both hands when she handed it to you.

Wanda’s cheeks flushed and she played with her wedding ring. “It’s all fixed up now,” she said. “I was really careful with it. You should take it.”

“No,” you immediately contested. “It isn’t right for me to take it from you after you’ve taken such good care of it.”

“It’s still yours. It was for your play. Please take it.”

You looked down at it, turning it carefully in your hands and reading in all the details of the prop the late nights you spent with Wanda making it as if the very metal and its details had words written on them. You wondered what she must’ve thought every time she saw it over the last eight years. 

It belonged to the both of you if anything.

When you set the chalice down by your things, Wanda quietly asked, “Y/N… Was tonight the play you wrote for me in college?”

You blinked and were taken by surprise. You started writing a script for Wanda so you could have it finished by the middle of February, but you ended up breaking up before her birthday, and you never had the chance to give it to her.

Initially when you first met Wanda again last month, you thought it was by complete coincidence that you had also just found the drafted script from years ago and had just decided to finally make it into a show.

But maybe you truly had been thinking of her a lot more over the years than you originally thought you did.

“How did you know that?” you asked.

She confessed, “I read a few pages of it back then.”

“When I…”

“When you told me not to,” she confirmed. “But I was curious, and… Well, that was the play, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, and she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You wrote a play for me,” she said, teasing you. 

Without taking your eyes away from her for a second, you smiled and repeated, “I wrote a play for you.”

At first your sincerity made Wanda swoon and her teasing demeanour melted into a warm flattered mess before guilt overtook her at the sight of how you looked at her. 

You looked at her with so much admiration.

Wanda swallowed and quietly said, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“You apologise a lot.”

“I know, but–” She cut herself off and seemed to be recollecting things internally before she began again. She struggled with maintaining eye contact but she tried anyway, and you wondered what was so important that she had to try this hard to communicate it. 

She said, “I should’ve gone to your play in college.”

You tried to interrupt her before she could apologise for something that happened so long ago, but she wouldn’t let you interject.

“It was important to you and I should’ve gone like I promised I would. I prioritised other stupid, meaningless things over you, and I’m sorry. I should’ve…”

She finally broke eye contact and looked down at the floor, pressing her fingers against her palm anxiously. 

You weren’t sure if you should try interrupting her again until the light from the fireplace reflected against the silver of her earrings. 

You reached out and laid the earring against the pad of your index finger so you could get a better look at it and Wanda looked up from the floor and ran her eyes over your face. 

“Dolphins,” you said.

It was then that Wanda realised the feeling that had been planted deep within her the second you took her hand in the theatre, then blossomed rapidly until this very moment. 

She was falling in love with you again. 

Her eyes moved over your shoulder to the photo of the two of you from years ago, framed and showcased right on the mantle where she could see it.

She recalled how her eyes always found their way over to the photo whenever she passed the fireplace, even when she hadn’t any idea if she’d ever see you again. 

The box stored in her closet of all the things that reminded her of you from when the two of you were dating years ago came to mind too. 

She wasn’t falling in love with you again — no. 

Wanda had always been in love with you. 

“I bought them to wear for you,” she confessed, stepping closer to you so your knuckle accidentally ghosted against her cheek. 

Your eyes left the earrings to meet hers. “They’re pretty,” you said. 

“If only I’d have kept my promise,” Wanda whispered, “things would’ve been different.”

You ached as you realised how much guilt must’ve been on her shoulders the last eight years, how quick and easy it was for her to blame herself for what happened. 

“Wanda, our breakup wasn’t your fault,” you told her. “I made mistakes too.”

She immediately shook her head and looked away from you.

“No, you didn’t.”

You insisted, “Yes.”

“It was my fault that–”

You had to cup Wanda’s cheek with your hand to make her look at you again and stop talking. She shut her mouth and looked at you, and that was when you sternly said, “It was my fault too.”

She began to tear up and you carefully swiped the tears from her eyes with your thumbs. 

“I don’t care how things would’ve been,” you said. “All I care about is what it is now — what we are now.”

Wanda took in a shaky breath and quietly asked, “What are we now…?”

Your eyes fell to her lips and Wanda was too distracted by how you looked and how good you smelled and how warm your hand was on your cheek to notice you were leaning in for a kiss until your lips were pressed against hers.

She’d forgotten how good those could feel.

But she never forgot how yours felt.

Her arms raised and she wrapped them around your neck so you couldn’t back up from her too far when you parted from the kiss. 

“I could… I could do right by you this time,” Wanda found herself promising the moment you pulled away enough so she could look into your eyes. 

What was she saying?

“I could treat you right this time around too,” you vowed.

What on earth were either of you saying?

“Is that okay?” you whispered. 

Wanda didn’t wait a moment before replying, “That’s okay. That’s… really, really okay.”

She leaned in and kissed you again, feeling you smiling against her own grinning lips.

──────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ────────

Until she filed for divorce from her husband, all Wanda Maximoff has known how to do is compromise, because until then, she never imagined a future wherein she could be any more than someone who lived in her husband’s shadows and never pursued the things she loved.

That night of your play changed so much for her.

It was painful to have to say goodnight to you and eventually have to drive you back home for her husband would eventually come back later that evening, but all Wanda could think about when she was in bed was how much things could change.

She thought about the kinds of futures she could have with you and the twins, the kinds of lives you could lead and the things she could do with herself.

But there was one thing she had to do before she could have any of that, and she wasn’t willing to wait and sit still anymore; when she turned to look at Victor sleeping beside her, Wanda knew she had to file for divorce. 

It wasn’t that the filing was so uncalled for at all, and it was easy to build a case against him.

The infidelity on Victor’s part and arguments that they sometimes failed to keep quiet from Tommy and Billy and dozens of other issues had built up to the point where Wanda’s lawyer confessed to her upfront that she was surprised she hadn’t filed for divorce much earlier.

They were trying to keep it as delicate as possible for the twins were still young, and in spite of their differences, neither their mother nor their father wanted to subject them to the complications that parents went through during a divorce.

Wanda rented her own apartment large and comfortable enough for both her and the twins, and you when you stayed over. 

You slept in Wanda’s bedroom, naturally. Though it still made you giddy recalling the mornings and nights you spent together in the same bed, in the same apartment.

Despite the relatively smooth move, Victor was still a very rich and power-hungry man, and he hadn’t been making the divorce process easy for Wanda. Oftentimes she was tired and drained, but also so impassioned.

It’d been a long time since she stood up for herself and what she wanted, and really, it was also first time she’d ever stood up to him.

“He wants to have them five days a week, each week,” Wanda told you presently, scoffing.

You leaned against the table and watched her as she worked. 

“What’s his lawyer saying?”

“I don’t care what that asshole is saying. I’m not compromising, Y/N,” she said sternly. “I’m not settling for two fucking days a week with my children.”

Rounding the table, you wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her against you. “That’s my girl. That’s good,” you praised and shook her around a little, making her stifle a laugh as she looked up and smiled at you. 

You kissed her temple and told her, “It’ll work out, Wands. Be strong.”

“Is everyone ready for the picture?” a voice called from the front of the stage.

It was the start of a new season at the theatre and it was tradition for your company to take a photo of all of the crew during the very early days of production development.

“Oh, hurry, hurry!” you hissed and took the pencil out of your girlfriend's hand.

Wanda tried to protest, “Y/N–”

“Finish the costume design later. Come on. Come on, come on, let’s go!”

You took her hand and pulled her to the stage where the rest of the crew was getting together for the photo, the camerawoman standing by the edge with her camera ready.

Your arm wrapped around Wanda’s hips and she wrapped both of hers around your shoulders, squeezing each other tight and smiling widely together as the photo of the entire production crew was taken.

You asked, “Wanna see it?”

“Very much,” she replied.

You rounded the camera together and Darcy approached Wanda.

“Wanda. Hey,” she greeted.

“Hi,” replied Wanda with a smile and she turned to face the young woman.

“When you write the article for the newsletter, could you mention that we’re looking for backup dancers?” she asked. “There’s, like, several big musical numbers in this one and we were pretty understaffed for the last show.”

You frowned and looked over at her. “Okay, not ‘pretty understaffed,’” you corrected. “Moderately understaffed.”

While ignoring your lighthearted offence because you’d been the primary one in charge of performer recruitment for the last play, Wanda answered with a reassuring smile, “I’ll add it.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said with a relieved exhale.

When you turned around to look at the camera for the photo, Darcy mouthed at Wanda before leaving for backstage again, ‘Very understaffed.’

“Wanda, this is gonna look really great on the mantle,” you told her, turning the camera around so she could see the picture. 

“Framed and right under the television in the living room,” she affirmed.

Wanda still had the picture of the two of you with her sorority, though now it was stored away in the box with all her other keepsakes from you.

It was always a symbol of the past, a reminder to her of a love she couldn’t ever get back. But now that things were different, Wanda didn’t need to think about anything but her future wherein you and the twins were always in it, no matter how many different lives she imagined for herself.

So there was a new framed picture put up where everyone in her apartment living room could see it — a photo of the theatre crew and you and Wanda right in the middle in the front row, smiling widely in each other’s arms with her cheek pressed against yours.

#gif credit to kcthrynns on twitter tho they are a deleted account now #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #elizabeth olsen

[markster666]

INTRODUCTION / MASTERLIST - MARKSTER666 (18+) ♡

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Hello everyone! I'm a 20 year old psychology student with a love for writing. Welcome to my one and only writing (and shitposting) account. I have a hard time sticking with one fandom, but I mostly write reader inserts being paired with canon characters. I do take requests as well! Please check my bio to confirm that requests are open.

A lot of my content involves mature subjects and I strongly advise anyone under the age of 18 to steer clear from my profile.

MASTERLIST:

Last Updated: 2/29/24

Total Works: 22

Hazbin Hotel:

SFW:

Alastor:

Every Thought, You. (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Alastor Reacting To Stereotypical Activist Gen Zer

NSFW:

Alastor:

Breeding B*tch (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Tentacles (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Cleanliness Is Next To - Oh Wait. (Alastor x Fem!OC RP Thread)

Good To Be Back On The Air! (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #1: Dry Humping (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #2: Face F*cking (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #3: Begging (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #4: Masturbation (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #5: Daddy Kink (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #6: Overstimulation (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #7: Praising (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #8: Sound Kink (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #9: Mirror Sex (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #10: Orgasm Control (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #11: Face Sitting (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #12: Lingerie Kink (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #13: Deep Throating (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #14: Roleplay (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #15: Food Play (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #16: Car Sex (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #17: Toys (Alastor x Fem!Reader) Kinktober Day #18: Uniform Kink (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #19: Morning Sex (Alastor x Fem!Reader)

Kinktober Day #21: Unprotected Sex (Alastor x Fem!Reader) -I skipped #20-

Anybody (over the age of 18) is welcome to show up in my dms and chat with me or put in a request! I don't bite.

It is NOT guaranteed that I will do your request nor is it guaranteed that I will do it quickly. I get writing blocks sometimes or I just genuinely can’t think of a good plot for your scenario yet but I’ll try my best.

SMUT / NSFW REQUESTS ARE ONLY CONSIDERED / ACCEPTED IF YOU HAVE CONFIRMATION THAT YOU'RE AN ADULT ON YOUR PROFILE. THANK YOU.

I have a pretty screwed up mind and will write about a lot so really, throw a prompt at me lol. I will also NOT do oc x oc, character x character, and character x oc.

FANDOMS

Helluva Boss

Hazbin Hotel

Five Night's At Freddy's

Harry Potter

South Park

SAW

WILL NOT WRITE (LIMITS):

P*dophilia

Scat / Pee / Vomit play

Female on Male Domination

N*crophilia

(If you have a taboo topic you want me to write about but I don't have it listed, feel free to ask!)

Vore

Thank you so much for visiting my blog and I hope I can hear from some of you soon!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

#intro post #blog intro #introductory post #pinned intro #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #fanfictions #fanfic authors #smut writing #x reader #masterlist #18+ only #18+ content #18+ blog #18+ account #minors dni #sexy content #10/10 would recommend #SoundCloud

[limepopsicles11]

Was it just me or when you first started reading fanfiction you thought orphan_account was the most prolific writer ever?

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #orphan account #klance #fanfiction.net #orphan_account #vld #voltron #kiribaku #zutara #sns #sasunaru #kuroken #soukoku #itafushi #eruri #hakyona #iwaoi #kagehina #matcha blossom

[fuumoksun]

I deleted my account @baka-tsuki For old times sake let me repost one of my favorite piece...

The day Trafalgar Law's brain stopped working...

"Captain! Captain! Your wife is fighting marines on the docks!"

Law needed a few seconds to let Bepo's words sink in.

"Wife?" he muttered, his thoughts racing as he froze on the spot. His brain struggled to process the notion that Y/n could be his wife.

"Captain?" Bepo waved his hand in front of Law's face. No reaction.

"Ah, good work, Bepo. You broke him !" Shachi and Penguin laughed, amused by their captain's dumbfounded expression.

"Yo, I'm back," you said casually, hopping onto the submarine and wiping some blood from your lips. "Um... We might need to leave like... right now, capt'" You pointed towards the army of marines chasing you.

"Law are you okay?" You approached the man who awkawardly turned away and left.

"Ah?" You raised an eyebrow but brushed it off as the marines were getting close. As everyone prepared to submerge, Law remained silent and retreated to his cabin.

Poor captain...

"Wife...?" was the only thought occupying his mind for the past few hours.

©fuumoksun - do not translate, publish on other plateforms. Headers by me

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #x reader #x y/n #one piece x y/n #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece reaction #trafalgar law x y/n #reaction #fluff #old account repost #one piece fluff #one piece law #fanfiction #flash fiction #trafalgar one piece #law one piece #one piece x reader #imagine #heart pirates #y/n #op law #one piece headers #blurb

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

After being ignored by the Justice League for years and thought of as a scam Phantom finally faces an opponent he didn't win against and his city is destroyed, killing everyone. The monster is heavily wounded by Phantom however as it was a brutal fight for both of them

Danny is heartbroken and in shock while the Justice League face off against this threat and also lose. Eventually they get thier second wind and rematch it and kill the thing, but just barely.

Later a small memorial was held for Amity Park and Phantom was enraged at how small it was. 70,000 people died and this was it? Most of the people hear weren't even mourners. They were press and fake ghost enthusiasts trying to catch internet points for thier viewer count. He hears some redhead say that the people of Amity were scammers and this whole ghost thing was fake. With tears in his eyes he screams, not as Fenton but as Phantom, "I'm fake?!" He grabbed the man by his throat and flew a few feet into the air, "You think I'm fake?! Here! Let's see how fake I am!" His words were dripping venom as he possessed the man and laughed as he used him as a puppet, attacking the people around him with ectoblasts and sending them running away screaming.

Bruce Wayne watched on as some unknown Elderich entity possessed Wally West and began attacking people. So Amity Parks pleas for help as well as the pleas from thier supposedly fake superhero were not just part of an elaborate tourist trap.

Green lantern had some explaining to do. Hopefully it wasn't too late to salvage the situation and save this child.

It was.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #angst #batman #wally west #the flash #bruce wayne #evil danny #i need some evil danny in my life #he holds the Justice League personally accountable to the death of everyone he loved #give them hell bb #woo

[beautifulblooms]

An Evening Treat - Astarion x FtM reader SMUT

So this is definitely a more recent writing and I’m proud of it, had a little fun with everyone’s favorite vampire spawn, anyways, hope y’all enjoy this little treat

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Sitting on his knees in the forest a good ways from camp in the woods, (y/n)’s hands rested on Astarion’s thighs as his jaw hung slack, the high elf’s length being slowly thrusting in and out of his mouth, sensual and sloppy noises escaping from his opened lips anytime Astarion moved his hips back and forth.

“Gods…you’re doing so good darling,” Astarion’s head fell back slightly as he let out soft groans of pleasure, his hand resting gently on the back of (y/n)’s head, not pushing it down further onto his cock, just a gentle presence for the other being.

With a small hum from (y/n), he closed his eyes and focused on pleasuring the vampire spawn in front of him, taking Astarion’s length fully into his mouth and bobbing his head faster, all but ignoring the fact that the high elf was already thrusting into his mouth.

“Oh! So eager for me, my sweet.” With a few more soft groans, Astarion pulled his hips back and thrust into (y/n)’s mouth more roughly the tip of his cock pressing against the other man’s throat, making him gag slightly as tears pricked the corners of his eyes, the other being’s hands tightening around the high elf’s thighs.

Astarion’s foot moved between (y/n)’s thighs and pressed the top of his boot against his crotch, teasing the other man’s slit through his pants, making the man moan around the elf’s cock still thrusting more roughly into his mouth.

“Hmm, and it seems my pet likes that, let’s see if he likes this as well,” Pressing his boot up further against (y/n)’s crotch, Astarion rubbed the tip of it against the other man’s clit through his pants, purposefully making him whine and gag more on his cock. (y/n)’s hips started to unconsciously buck into the elf’s boot, craving more friction and pleasure as he felt Astarion’s cock throb lightly in his mouth, his tongue going up and pressing against the underside of it, teasing under the hood whenever the elf would pull out far enough.

“Aah, good boy, such a skilled tongue.” Astarion grinned as he felt the other man start to grind against his boot, keeping his heel planted on the ground to allow (y/n) the ability to grind as much as he wanted, his hips still thrusting roughly into the other being’s mouth, a more guttural groan leaving his lips as he felt (y/n)’s tongue against his cock.

As his hips bucked into Astarion’s boot, (y/n) whined around the elf’s length, a few small gags escaping him whenever it would hit the back of his throat, causing more tears to prick the corners of his eyes and eventually fall down his cheeks.

“No, no my sweet, no tears, you’re doing so good for me.” Astarion brought up his other hand to rest on (y/n)’s cheek and brush away some of the tears that fell, despite enjoying them greatly, he didn’t like seeing his precious one in pain and eased up on his thrusts slightly, trying not to hit the back of the other man’s throat, instead focusing on moving his boot again to apply more pressure against (y/n)’s swollen clit, giving the kneeling man more pleasure.

More whines and moans fell from the other being’s lips, muffled by the cock still thrusting into his mouth, but still clear as can be for Astarion, who listened to them greedily, rubbing the top of his boot against (y/n)’s slit with more pressure, feeling the other man’s thighs quake slightly as he neared his climax, the high elf feeling his own growing closer.

“That’s it, so close darling, you’re doing so well for me,” rubbing his thumb over (y/n)’s cheek, Astarion encouraged the kneeling man to continue grinding and sucking on his cock, his thrusts getting slightly more erratic as the hand holding the back of (y/n)’s head started to grip his hair, bringing the man’s head closer to the base of his cock, causing him to gag slightly more.

With another muffled whimper, (y/n)’s thighs tightened around Astarion’s boot as he came, his hips stilling as his body shook lightly with pleasure, his mouth opening more as the man’s eyes rolled back into his head slightly. Astarion grinned again as he felt (y/n)’s thighs clamp down onto his foot, knowing he brought the other man to his climax and speeding up his own thrusts once more before letting out a low growl as he came into (y/n)’s mouth, pulling his head closer to his crotch until the man’s nose was buried in the elf’s pubic hair.

“Such a good boy, swallow it all now, don’t waste anything.” (y/n) followed the order unconsciously, his body still quaking slightly with pleasure as he came down from his own high, his lips closing around Astarion’s cock as he swallowed everything that was left in his mouth with small whine before pulling off with a soft pop, his eyes hazed, cheeks flushed. The white-haired elf smiled down at the other man and gently pet his head, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead as he pulled his boot from between (y/n)’s legs, his hand still cupping the other man’s cheek in a gentle hold.

“You did well, my sweet, but I think we could do much more tonight, couldn’t we?” Without much of another word from (y/n), Astarion pulled the other man to his feet, despite how shaky his legs might be, and pressed him against the nearest tree, kissing him roughly and passionately, it seemed the night was far from over for (y/n).

#male reader #male reader fanfic #x male reader #mlm account #nblm account #FtM reader #FtM smut #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x male tav #astarion x FtM reader #Astarion smut #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction

[deans-queen]

Friends With Benefits 🖤

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N) 

Summary: Reader (Y/N) goes through a breakup and is feeling vulnerable so her FWB, Dean Winchester cheers her up in the best way. 

Inspired song: Get Mine, Get Yours by Christina Aguilera 

Bold Text: Song lyrics

Warnings: SMUT, p in v (wrap it up kids), oral (male receiving), mature and sexual language.

Reader (Y/N’s) P.O.V 

“No Gabe, I can’t do this anymore..” you said on the phone. 

You were having yet another fight with this guy you were currently seeing. It really wasn’t an exclusive relationship but you still had feelings for him. But over the past week, there’s been nothing but fighting, the situation was toxic and it was  a waste of energy. 

“No, I don’t want to work this out anymore, we’ve tried and nothing has changed. I’m sorry but it’s over, goodbye.” 

You hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. 

“What a jerk….” You muttered to yourself. 

You placed your face in your hands and began to take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. 

You picked your phone back up again and deleted his number from your contact list. After that, you went through your contacts again hoping to call your friends to help cheer you up. 

Then you came across a contact name that you recognized: 

Dean Winchester….. your friend with benefits. That green eyed, hot as fuck, bad boy hunter. How could I forget him? He’s so perfect…. You thought to yourself. 

The line began to ring and he picked up right away. 

“Hello?” His deep masculine voice said.

“Dean, it’s (Y/N). I know this is so random but are you busy right now?”

“No, Sam and I just finished up a case…actually near where you live. Why what’s up?”

“Well, um, remember when we became friends with benefits and you said we can call each other whenever we needed to hook up?” 

“Yeah?”

“Well I’m feeling very lonely and vulnerable right now….and I need you Dean. Desperately.” 

“Say no more, sweetheart I’m on my way.” 

An Hour Later…. 

Before Dean arrived, you decided to freshen up. You touched up your hair and make up just a tad, and put on some sexy lingerie, with a silk robe to cover it up. 

Knock Knock. 

You raced to get the door, and there he was standing before you. Just as handsome as ever. 

He was wearing a dark green jacket (which complimented his eyes perfectly) with a black T-shirt underneath. And his regular jeans with boots. 

“Well hello there handsome.” You said in a seductive voice

“What’s cookin 'good lookin?” He said as he winked at me. 

You began to bite your lips as you pulled him in aggressively by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips on his. He immediately responded by melting into the kiss. His hands went around your waistline and began to grab your ass. 

Can you put your hands on my waistline?

Want your skin up against mine

Move my hips to the baseline

Let me get mine, you get yours

Smack. A red mark was left on your ass.

“Oh Dean, you are a very naughty boy.” You moaned softly to him. 

He looked at you grinning like a seductive devil, only wanting you more. 

He untied the silk robe from your body and let it pool by your feet. His eyes grew wide as he looked at your lingerie set, running them up and down your body.

It was a black lacy corset bra, with a thong to match, and some black stockings that went up to your thighs, and straps that linked up to them.  

You took his hand and led him to your room. 

You laid down on the bed and Dean crawled on top of you. 

He began kissing your neck, leaving love marks along it, he took a hand and started playing with your boobs. He pulled down your corset bra, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were hard already and Dean could tell. 

He sucked and flicked lightly on each nipple, causing you to moan in pleasure.

“Mmmmm, Dean…..” 

“Your tits are so perfect baby.” He groped each one, massaging them softly. 

You reached down at the hem of his shirt pulling it up off of him. You admired his strong chest and abs, you also noticed the pentagram tattoo and planted a kiss on it. 

You reached for the belt on his pants, undoing it and pushing them down revealing his boxers. 

He pushed them down and his thick cock sprang free, it was so big. Just like you remembered. 

“Lay back Dean, I need to taste you.” 

He did as he was told and you took a hold of his cock. Gliding your tongue along the slit licking the pre-cum that came out of him. 

“Oh fuck, that feels so good.” 

“Well it’s about to get even better.” You  teased, and you took all of him in your mouth and began sucking him like a lollipop. 

He groaned and moaned in pleasure, his cock twitching in your mouth. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, and yanked it as your head bobbed up and down.

“You’re so good for me, taking me all in your mouth like that baby.” He said in a husky voice. “Use that pretty little mouth.” Groaning his head back in pleasure.

You kept going sucking and groping faster and faster until he cummed in your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby….” He breathed heavily. You swallowed every last drop of him, and he wiped some of it off your chin with his thumb, planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“That’s my good girl, now lay down for me, and take those panties off….I need to be inside of you.”

Put my back into a slow grind

Sending chills up and down my spine

Let me get mine, you get yours

You did as you were told and spread your legs open, and he admired your glistening pussy. 

He teased you a bit, going in and out at first rubbing the tip on your clit, “Dean, please don’t tease me.” 

He then pushed hard inside of your walls, hitting your g-spot with ease.

“I almost forgot how tight you are baby. Your pussy is so perfect.”

“You feel so fucking good Dean, keep going don't you dare stop.” 

He continued to grind against you, moans filled the room and you didn't care how loud you were. You dug your nails into his back, leaving marks, you clung onto him like he was your lifeline. His strong hands gripped your waist tight as he thrusted in and out of you. Your legs were getting weak, you could feel the moment come to you.

“I’m so close, ohh my god!”

“Me too, where do you want me to cum baby?”

“Inside me please, Dean. Fill up this tight little pussy."  

"Yes, ma'am." He said while growling.

And he did, as he pulled out he looked down at the glistening liquid that was coming out of your pussy. He bent down and sucked up all of your juices, as you moaned back in pleasure. 

He laid down next to you, as he took you in his arms.

"Wow, Dean that was so amazing, I need to call you more often." You said winking at him.

"I'll be honored to help you out sweetheart." He said as he smirked seductively.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story!

Feel free to let me know what you think!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

P.S. I wrote the smut parts by myself let me know how I did 😜

Check out my other stories!

Master list 📝

#supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural family #supernatural fandom #supernatural fan account #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader insert #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #spn #18+ account #18+ only #18+ content #18+ blog #deanedit #supernatural edits #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #fanfic #smut #supernatural fic

[spinning-stars]

Mini smut fics! 🦴Slashers🦴 Part 1

Slashers x Reader

(no genitalia is mentioned but its implied afab!!!)

💥NSFW!!! SMUT!!! LEMON!!! WHATEVER YOU WANNA CALL IT!!!💥

Slashers- Billy and Stu, The Sinclair brothers (Vincent, Bo, Lester), Michael Myers.

Warnings ⚠️- knife play, wax play,body worship, degrading, usage of the word slut, p in v sex, bondage, oral giving and receiving, I made Billy a Sub. (I'll let you know when the bondage, wax play, body worship, degrading usage of the word slut, and knife play)

👻Billy Loomis-

"Please..." Billy looked down at you, eyes filled with lust. You have been teasing his dick for only a small hour, and he was begging for his release. His arms were tied behind his back and you were trying your best to hold his hips still to keep him from thrusting into your mouth. Occasionally you will let his hips go for about a minute or two only to stop his the second he gets close. You gently run your hand over the tip, making his body shiver. "You're going to have to beg more pretty boy," you say while staring up at him with the most innocent eyes. "Fuck... Please, I need it... Y/N... Please" He whimpers while lightly closing his eyes. "Good boy, you earned it," you said while taking him fully in your mouth and lightly sucking. It didn't take much time before his thighs began to shake and you felt his release in your mouth. His soft moans followed his climax.

👻✨Stu Macher-

Stu had your legs spread while you were sitting on his lap. He was rocking his hips back and forth, his hands are leaving deep bruises on your hips. He would occasionally thrust his hips up into you but then continued back into rocking. Stu like teasing you he felt like he was in complete control you would hold down your hips and stop you if you tried moving faster or slower than what he said. "Awe what's wrong Y/n... I thought you could take me. " Stu groans as he sped up a bit. He could feel you tightening around his cock. He slowly moved one of his hands to your thigh and gave it a light squeeze. He thrusted up a bit more into you. He felt your legs start to shake and your nails dig into your back before you both released. You fell into chest and you both began panting.

🎨Vincent Sinclair-

(💥Wax play, Bondage, body worship!!! 💥)

Vincent what's making you into his own kind of art art. He had you tied up the prettiest color of red rope, your legs were spread and your arms were tied above your head. A cute heart design was made on your chest using the rope. Vincent it's on the other end fingering you. He had a hot candle dripping wax on your body. Every time you wince in pain he bends down and lightly kisses that spot. When he wasn't kissing you he was rubbing your body lightly. " You're so beautiful... My muse." You tighten around his fingers and he speeds up trying not to hurt you. When you came he got on his knees and started to eat you out, tuning into your sweet whimpers and moans as you squirm above him.

🔧Bo Sinclair-

(💥 degrading, usage of the word slut, light Bondage💥)

Bo had you been over his giant Dark blue toolbox in the shop. Y'all were doing a quickie before the victims came back to the shop to check on there car. He was ramming in behind you with deep, quick thrust. "Fuck y/n... You feel so nice... you're so damn needy."He groans and throws his head back while picking up the pace. He then slaps your ass leaving a perfect bright red handprint. "You're my slut, Ain't ya'?." He asks as he feels your legs shake and you tighten around his cock. He slows down a tad bit just to leave hickeys and bites on your back and neck. He lets you suck his fingers to keep you from making too much noise. "Shhh... keep quiet, you don't want em' to think you're a slut now do ya?" He says as he bites your shoulder causing you to bleed. He then speeds up the pace while squeezing your ass until you both cum. He loves to pull out and see how much he wrecked you in such little time.

🐾Lester Sinclair-

(💥slight body worship💥)

Lester is the biggest sucker for truck sex. He took his old jacket and folded it into a makeshift pillow, so you don't hurt your head laying on the bed of the truck. Lester is gentle, he kisses your body before sticking it in. He lightly pumped in and out of you while holding on to your hand. "Shit... Honey you're warm and nice." He moans while speeding up a bit. He cums first and then kneels down. "Can't let someone as pretty as you not finish," he pants a bit before eating you out. He bounces back and forth between eating you out and kissing your inner thighs. Here and there leaving light bites until you cum.

🔪Michael Myers-

(💥Knife play 💥)

Michael had you in missionary when he began lightly dragging the tip of his Knife by your side. He was going at a deep but normal pace surprisingly. He looked down to admire his work, you had cuts, hickeys, and bites all over you. For the cherry on top you have a slight ring of tears in your eyes in a face contorted with pleasure. He takes the top of the knife and digs it a little on your side causing blood to start trickling out of the wound. Michael lifted his mask and bent down and began to lightly lick the blood and kiss around the wound. He began to speed up his pace, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. Both of his hands we're digging into your hips as a rammed in and out of you. Your hands flew up around his neck when you got close. He continued the speed until you both came at the same time. After you two were done, he took the knife and carved 'Michael' on your inner thigh.

Authors note🖤- I thought y'all needed something to spice up your day a bit. Who should I do for part 2? Requests are open! Have a lovely day<3

UPDATE!!! PART 2 IS OUT

#fanfic #x reader #bo sinclair #smut #gn reader #michael myers #micheal myers smut #lemon 🍋 #new account #slashers x y/n #slashers fanfiction #slasher smut #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu matcher x you #x you smut #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #horror character #lester sinclair #x reader smut #x y/n smut #mini story #smut fic #Ns/fw #sub slashers #ao3 #ao3 writer #writers

[mysteriawrites]

LDS boys react to reader leaving them as a prank?!? Or avoiding their touch or kiss?!?

Love and Deepspace Boys react to S/O (jokingly) avoiding their Affection

An: Zayne’s is sus and im not sorry

Xavier:

Is a confused baby

Did he do something wrong?

Why are you avoiding his love :(

He will try to remember if he did anything wrong before outright asking you

And he has such a sad kicked puppy expression on his face

If you don’t tell him right then and there that it was just a prank then you’re a heartless person

He’s confuses but relieved to find out it was just a joke

He’s also a bit pouty about it until you cover his face with kisses

Plz love the baby boy

Zayne:

Is aware of the prank is completely unwillingly to put up with your bs

Will just be like “oh you don’t want a kiss? Aight then peace” and just walk away

Doesn’t indulge you in the slightest

If you relent and tell him you were just joking then he will turn the tables on you and be the one to start avoiding you affection

He may be the more serious one out of the three but he’s not above being a cheeky little shit

He also has a lot of resolve and is lowkey petty so he will keep this up until you literally beg him

Then will proceed to grab you and throw you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom as punishment for your little prank-

Rafayel:

Is aware of the prank but is a little shit about it

Rafayel overall is a little shit but we love him anyway

He will continue to kiss you from different angles until he can sneak a kiss in

If that doesn’t work he will start to tickle and pinch you until you relent

Then he’ll proceed to whine about how you could possibly resist his handsome face

It makes you eye roll but you can’t ignore the proud smirk on his face

If you try to walk away from his gloating ass he will pull you back you will become susceptible to his affection

#multi fandom blog #multifandom account #multifandom #multifandom writer #multi fandoms posts #multifandom fanfiction #multifandom x reader #multifandom imagines #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader

[multifixwritings]

If it Does Rain

Fandom: Twilight Pairing: Jasper Hale x GN!Reader Summary: Jasper is worried about what could happen to you if Edward and Bella's budding relationship goes wrong. Words: 809 (drabble) Note: This is an old piece from years ago. I believe it came from a request for one of my previous writing blogs. It's pretty bad—I like to believe I have improved since then—but I figure we can just laugh at it together.

The Cullen-Hale family were not the only ones watching with rapt interest—interest which ranged from anger to excitement to concern—as Edward crossed the parking lot with the new girl tucked under his arm. Everyone found the sight fascinating and could not seem to pry their stares away from the unlikely couple to maintain even just a shred of their own decency.

You didn't have to be within hearing distance to know what Bella had just whispered to him, so soft and quiet as to not draw any more attention (as though there was any left to give). The warm color rising to her face would have been a key giveaway if you hadn't known her well enough to just know.

She was your sister, after all.

Your focus drifted away from them in response to the increasing tension radiating from the body at your side. A frown tugged at your mouth as you looked to your boyfriend, who had gone completely rigid with something other than the fight for control that consumed him every minute he was forced to be around his "peers." It worried you what might have been going through his mind as he watched his youngest brother hold open his car door for your fragile, human sister.

You reached over the console and took his hand in yours, gently. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered much had you gripped it hard enough to bruise—the bruises would have adorned your hand. A side effect of such a supernatural existence and stat of being that the Olympic Coven (and others around the globe) lived.

"You're worried," you observed.

Jasper sat still as the marble he looked to be sculpted of. Behind the tinted windows, he was safe from prying eyes who might have thought to follow in your footsteps and dig deeper into the Cullen-Hale enigma than they should (and subsequently be faced with a far less desirable outcome than you). The only witnesses were you and his family.

After a moment, he squeezed your hand and looked to you, a half-hearted smirk tipping his perfect lips up at the corner. "I thought I was the empath."

His deeply instilled Southern drawl made your heart flutter. It had ever since the first time you'd heard it, and you didn't think it would ever not hold the same effect over you so long as your heart was still beating. But his attempt to lighten the air—a wave of calm reassurance flowed into your mind, chipping away at the tension which ate at the edges of your soul—did not erase the consternation sinking in his deep gaze.

"I don't need special abilities to know when you're upset—and yours aren't going to make me feel any better until you've talked to me."

Jasper dented his forehead in frustration. He never wanted to be the reason for anything but your happiness and safety. His habit of shutting you out of his problems he still thought aided that, as he didn't relish the idea of you having even more burden to bear, but he knew you hated when he did.

You arched a brow at his momentary silence and slowly rubbed your thumb over his sculpted knuckles.

He sighed and leaned back in the driver's seat, two actions performed more out of habit than of need. His fingers curled around the steering wheel until the leather started to strain under the pressure.

"If they end badly," he said, "it all ends badly."

Jasper gently removed his hand from under yours to start the car. The engine rumbled to life as the meaning behind his words vibrated between you. It took a lot of restraint not to roll your eyes at his incessant paranoia that he had always displayed when vulnerable and alone with you.

You managed to keep your soft expression because you knew why he worried so much. As the newest "vegetarian," as Dr. Cullen dubbed their lifestyle, he struggled tremendously with keeping his bloodlust in control. His biggest fear was losing it and killing someone, killing you, and putting his family at risk again.

Taking your respectful silence, he pulled from the parking lot and elaborated vaguely, "A lot could go wrong, and if anythin' does... Them bein' together just puts a lot at stake."

"So do we," you countered, "but we're making it work. We should give Bella and Edward the same chance."

You leaned in and kissed his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. He entwined your fingers and held your hand on your thigh. The silence cocooned the two of you, leaving nothing but the smooth engine to fill the void.

Jasper then lifted your locked hands and kissed the back of yours. "I just don't wanna lose you. I can't."

"You won't. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

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[quackberri]

writing fanfiction for fandoms with any less then 100 fics makes me feel like a palaeontologist adding to a history museum. except i don't think palaeontologists make the dinosaurs

#fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #like seriously im desperate i don't want to be the only person in this fandom in the entire world #i'm find dinosaurs #if my school tracks my account down and finds what i've written i'll die in glory