#and now her mom dies the day after prom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

romanoffsbish · 11 months

Text

Shelter me From the Storm

Actress!Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Stripped Bare (Part 1) / Two people asked for this and I already had the ideas so boom. 😂

Warnings: Loss of Parent / Grief. Post-Partum Depression (Not mentioned, but heavily implied—hygiene/eating struggles, struggle to bond/help). Media (Implied lack of respect for Sex Work).

18+ | Minors DNI | Please Don’t Report, it’s labeled properly.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Natasha's raspy voice startled you, but it also soothed your aching soul. It'd been exactly two months since the two of you moved to Oregon to officially start your life together. "My mom, us, them."

The redhead nodded solemnly, worried eyes casted down onto your fidgeting hands. She settled down beside you on the porch swing, and took your freezing hands between hers. Gently as ever she kissed, and breathed onto them until she deemed them warm enough.

"You couldn't have worn mittens?" She teased, then her strong arms wrapped around your body so she could pull you into her lap. Her forehead leaned against yours as she tried her best to comfort you. It was you who broke the distance and pressed your lips to hers for a kiss that reminded you that you were really there.

——

You were still alive, even if your mom wasn't. The thought broke you, this idea that Apollo and Luna would grow up without her love.

"I miss her," you sniffled, and the redhead sighed empathetically, "Me too moya lyubov'."

A smile graced your face at the memories of Nat with your mom. They'd only known one another for a little over a year, but your wife stole your mother's heart instantly. The sick woman never missed a chance to talk to her, even if it involved interrupting your convos.

They had a pure love of you in common, so it was easy for them to spend hours talking. It warmed your heart, but also infuriated you to no end when your mom shared your secrets.

Natasha never needed to know about your failed prom, or about how you believed in Santa and his friends until sophomore year.

The redhead loved to tease you about it, even now, "Who else will tell me all your secrets?"

"Thank fuck that's over," you sadly joked, because embarrassing as it was, you'd let your mother release all of your most embarrassing moments in life if it meant she was still here.

"Ooh, What about Cole?"

You snorted, "Not if he wants to stay alive."

"You're no fun."

Silence soon fell over the both of you as you watched the rain harshly pelting down. The pavement, and dirt saturated in no time as mother nature wept, you weren't sure of her reason, but you liked to think it was for your mom. She loved the rain, it never presented as an inconvenience to her like it did for others, you remember chasing the rainbows with her.

Losing her was polarizing really. It was always coming, but you were never prepared for it.

All that really brought you comfort since she passed, was that she met your daughter first.

Luna Romanoff, the little girl with your wife's cheeky smile, and your mothers love for music.

At only ten months old she was a little rockstar. The xylophone was her go to instrument, it made you feel like your mom's name as her middle prophesied their clear connection. They had met, then five hours later your mom died.

Natasha took care of everything after, she still does some days when you can't manage. You usually feel bad, but every time she senses it, and reminds you that there's nothing else she'd rather be doing than caring for her family.

"I'm going to miss you too," you finally broke it, voice cracking as your emotions got the best of you. "I wish you didn't have to leave at all."

"Me neither," Nat replied in the same tone, a tear slipped down her face as she stewed over her departure this evening. Leaving you in such a vulnerable state wasn't easy, but she hadn't a choice as she had to do a slurry of interviews for her upcoming film, as well as clear the air on her sudden disappearance from Hollywood.

It was the only way the execs would let her off the hook for the premiere. The buzz from her interviews will give them enough scandalous PR. Especially when she announces this will be her last film for a long while. The seats will fill.

She'd pleaded for zoom interviews, but even being as big as she was, they wouldn't budge.

"I wouldn't go if I had a choice," she reminded you for the umpteenth time. "I know Natty."

"It just sucks," she voiced your thoughts.

You chuckled humorlessly, "Majorly."

The sudden sound of a cry through the baby monitor brought you and your wife out of your bubble of intermixed grievances, and right into the house where you found a shocked Apollo hovering over Luna's traveling bassinet.

Five minutes ago they were peacefully napping, one in a heap of blankets and toys, while the other was cozy in her bed. It was safest not to move your son, he'd have woken up lively.

Where he lays, he stays—a household motto.

The scene was clear as day, he'd climbed up onto the couch with a devious curiosity, and now it appears the young boy had slapped her.

Natasha swiftly moved to the side of the couch, stopping your son from repeating the offense with a gentle catch of his hand. With ease she scooped the boy onto her hip, then she lovingly reached down to smooth a hand over your daughters face. Her cries stopped instantly.

After your daughter was soothed you watched quietly as Natasha handled your son. Her look was stern, but her eyes were still adoringly soft. There was no true harm done, it was clear Luna was mostly just shocked, not genuinely hurt.

Plus, he's only two, this was like a canon event.

"Apo," she called his attention to her with the nickname derived from his inability to say his. "You have to be gentle," she softly reminded him, using her hand to mimic proper touch as she continued to brush her hand over your daughters face until she was sleeping again.

Apollo butchered the word as he repeated it, but he mimicked her perfectly. Tiny hands covered in god knows what reached out to cup her face, something he'd seen done before. Both of your hearts beamed at the boy for his slow, but steady understanding. This would probably happen again, from both ends, but you knew that it would be an easy resolution.

Natasha's gentle approach to the kids was a surprising discovery you'd made. Not that you expected her to be downright cruel, but you just expected more sternness from your former experiences. But then you remember the Natty that you'd loved was always there back then too, and then it all makes sense. The first time you witnessed it was when your infant son was playing with an extension cord. You wanted to run over and rip it from his hands, but she'd stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

Instead she walked over to him, created some static electricity with her hands then tapped his. It seemed almost cruel, but then she picked him up as he wailed, then that soon faded into hiccups and it all became clearer to you.

He'd wanted her attention all along, and she taught him a valuable lesson in the process.

The gentleness came right after, when she held him close while she hummed a Russian lullaby to soothe him. All the while pointing to the enticing cord and saying a simple, firm no-no.

You remember watching them fondly, with a smile on your face, a hand on your bump, and a subtle sense of relief that'd washed over you.

No matter what came, you knew you'd all be safe with Natasha. Parenting was a learning curve, without your mom to guide you you've lost it, but you felt like she'd had it mastered.

That's why after the night slowly crept in you anticipated the arrival of your little brother. He's flying in from New York, and should be to your house by 8:30pm, and Nat has to be gone by 9pm, or she knows she'll never make it.

Apollo had already gone down for the night, but Luna Bear was still a live wire. Bouncing on her mama's hip while haphazardly shaking her head side to side in a tiring game of 'no-no'

"Wow, you've gotten so big Lunar Eclipse," your brother greeted the giggling baby, who turned to him with a wide, curious smile. Natasha sent him one as well at the relief she felt since she no longer had to shake her head.

"Luna," you corrected with a fixed glare. "I've been meaning to ask you about that sis."

"Cole," you warned through gritted teeth, and for the first time Natasha had realized the help she planned might actually be the bother.

"Why would you name your kids like animals?"

Natasha glared at your brother just the same, coddling the baby into her chest with a hand over her ear to shield her from hearing him

"You're the most annoying person on Earth," you deadpanned, he gasped in offense. "Give me the cat, and say your sappy goodbyes."

Natasha's arms around your waist stopped you from chasing your cackling brother down as he took your giggling daughter into the house.

"Don't leave me with him," you pleaded. "I won't look good in an orange jumpsuit Nat."

Natasha snorted softly, "You're so dramatic." Then she leaned in to kiss you slowly, a bunch of unspoken words being exchanged: 'I'm only a call away,' 'Don't kill your brother, please,' and 'Seriously, call me if you need me,' but the most important of messages came tumbling from your very own parted lips, "I love you."

Natasha smiled against you, she instantly repeated the sentiment, "I love you too Y/N. With all of me. You'll be okay detka. Promise."

The driver honked impatiently, and you fought off the urge to flip them off. Natasha rolled her eyes as she saw the petty conflict behind yours. "I'll be back in three sleeps sweetheart, you take care of yourself while I'm gone please."

Natasha sighed as she saw you bite your lip, a nervous habit of yours she'd become familiar with. You never wanted to disappoint Natasha, but you felt like you always were when you couldn't even manage the mundane tasks.

"It's hard, I know it is," she sympathized with your newfound wave of inability. "But eat, drink water, and sleep whenever possible."

"I'll try," you whisper against her chest as she hugs you close for a final moment. "That's all I ask moya lyubov, you deserve to be nourished."

"Three days," you whispered, your eyes shut tight as you reeled in your emotions. You could break down when she made it onto the road.

"Then there'll be no more leaving, we got this."

"Safe travels Natty." You kissed her cheek, then made the move to slip from her grasp, knowing all too well that she wouldn't willingly let go.

As you entered the house she watched, making her driver more irritated but she didn't care. His paycheck was signed by her, therefore his patience was paid for. She watched closely and nearly broke down when she saw a little Luna crying as her hands slammed into the window.

It was strange, how the ten month old could understand the implications of her mother in the car, and it hurt the woman's aching soul.

Once you locked the door, and scooped your daughter up she told released a breath and told the driver he could take off as she sent off a worried text to Cole, begging him to keep an eye on you like he promised her he would.

Then she sat back and began to count down the milliseconds until she could return to you.

—

The following morning came with a wake up Facetime call, your wife waited until it was 9am your time, then spent hours virtually cuddling. Around 12pm she bid you farewell, as it was 3pm in New York, her interview was for 6pm, but with makeup and wardrobe it was time.

It was live, so at 3pm you'd ensured the babies were already down for a nap, and settled onto the couch in some clean pajamas with your emotional support water bottle, and chips.

Natasha looked beautiful as she crossed the stage, with practiced elegance she flashed her award winning smile, and you swooned. It felt like it was directed at you, and with it being your Natasha you realized it probably was.

They discussed the movie, it was a smooth interview, until the hot topic, you, came up.

"So, tell me Natasha, who's the mystery girl?"

Natasha instantly grimaced, but quickly shook the expression for one of happiness. "My wife."

"Wife, huh?" He chuckled nervously, you both saw a question on his mind designed to send you spiraling. "Fans across the globe really thought you'd end up with Wanda Maximoff."

Natasha breathed harshly through her nose, it took all of her patience to remain composed.

"Wanda is nothing more than a lifelong friend." Natasha cooly replied. "Who's happily engaged, need I remind you, to The Vision Stark."

"Hindsight is 20/20," he jested awkwardly.

"Mhm," Natasha hummed, not even humoring the man with a response as she watched him fumble through his note cards for more. She smiled, it was perceivably smug, and made you feel something you'd yet to in almost a year.

He took a steadying breath before his face relaxed, then he continued his futile attack.

"I have it on good authority that your wife, Y/N Y/L/N." Natasha cut him off, "Romanoff."

"Sorry," he replied annoyedly, "We've been informed that Y/N Romanoff was a stripper."

Natasha nods thoughtfully. "Is there a question there, or are we just stating useless facts. If so, I'd like to inform you your tie is on wrong."

Your eyes widened, in all your years of knowing of Natasha, you'd never seen her so snarky. It was really hot, and you truly couldn't deny it.

"I guess, if it wasn't obvious," he starts shakily, as if he feared the 5'3 redheaded woman. "The world is wondering if that's how you met."

"Well, the honest answer is yes." The audience gasped, she rolled her eyes behind her lids knowing they were likely prompted to do that for shock value alone. "I know right? How shocking that rich people still go to strip clubs."

Her eyes then narrowed onto the nervous host. "As if you yourself aren't a regular Johnny."

"Jimmy," he timidly corrected and she laughed. Boy did she laugh, it was mocking, and had the man sweating through his shirt. "My apologies, so tell me Jimbo, does your wife know what happens during the actual late nights? We both know this show is mislabeled. It ends by 7pm, but your life is only just beginning then right?"

The raven haired man gulped, it was clear Nat was prepared for his intrusive questioning. You caught sight of Natasha's sideways smirk just as the show cut to a commercial, and when it returned your wife was no longer there. Cole snickered from beside you, "Mom would have loved to see this, God, I adore your wife Y/N."

You hummed your agreement, then left him to tend to the crying babies while you answered your wife's phone call. She was panicking, but you reassured her that it'll be okay. That her die hard fans wouldn't leave, and that with the progressive nature of Hollywood that she'd likely receive accolades for her honesty, and her overall support of the sex work industry.

Even if you both knew it wasn't a guarantee, Natasha couldn't help but to believe you. In the end, if this is where her career ended she didn't mind. She had more than enough money to retire, and she still would have her business.

Natasha ended the call after you'd calmed her as she had more interviews to prepare for.

It felt fulfilling being there for her, helping her through a freak out for once instead of it being the other way around. You knew it wasn't a competition, but it's hard to think otherwise when it's always you on the visibly weaker end.

There was a renewed confidence in your step now, and it showed when you fixed lunch for the whole house instead of letting Cole. You'd ushered him off to play with the kids, and got comfy with the concepts of cooking again.

—

When the next day came you got to hear from Nat sporadically. She told you all about her day, the highlight apparently came when she got to answer fan's questions while playing with cats. You rolled your eyes, knowing now that she'd be insufferable until you finally said yes to her taking in the stray kittens that lived amongst Wanda's garden. The brunette wanted to take them to a shelter a week ago, but Nat told her she'd win you over soon enough.

She begged again before she got off the call, and she was right, because that evening you sent her a picture before she went to sleep of a relieved Wanda on your doorstep with a box.

Natasha called you on the verge of tears, she'd only hung up the phone an hour ago so she could take a shower and get ready for bed. It was only 4pm for you, and 7pm for her, but she had an early morning interview before she was then meant to catch an afternoon flight home.

So, after she thanked you profusely, she settled down in her bed, and you on the couch as you pulled up her most recent interview done with Clint Barton. An actor turned talk show host.

He was also her very best friend, so of course she gave him the tell all story others wanted.

"So Natasha," Clint started with a teasing smirk. "Mhm?" She hummed playfully, her eyes softly rolled as a smirk overtook her face.

"When do I get to meet my niece and nephew?"

"Whenever you catch a flight out to Oregon."

"That's right," he bounces off her seamlessly, "You made the bold move to the Beaver state, what is in Oregon that's not in LA or NYC?"

"Peace," she answered simply. "It's gorgeous, and it's where my love wanted to end up."

Clint smiled, it was incredibly genuine as he admired the lovesick one your wife wore. The man has yet to meet you, but he plans to hug you tightly in silent thanks for changing her life for the better and making her this happy. He's watched her through every phase, the partying, all the meaningless hooking up, to the present.

Where she is outwardly softer, but as expected she is still guarded where she needed to be.

"Your love," he acknowledges, a slight tease to his tone as he met her eyes again. "Why don't you tell me all about who's taking you from us."

Natasha glared at him, but it was a playful way, that she agreed to, to ease her into her purpose for this interview. "You know Clint, I've been acting ever since I was a kid," she thoughtfully began, "It's all I've ever known honestly. It's been my greatest passion for three decades."

She took in a steadying breath, then sighed while wearing a shy smile, "It wasn't until I met her that I envisioned more for myself," her cheeks reddened at the thought of exposing herself in such a vulnerable way to the world.

Acting, telling others stories, was what she did best, but it felt foreign to tell her own like this.

With her eyes closed she imagined your smile, then she heard the memory of your kids giggles and suddenly it was the easiest decision. "Y/N is my light at the end of the tunnel, truthfully."

Clint nodded proudly, leaning back in his seat to metaphorically open the floor up to her.

"I know the world is already freaking out, some angry that I'm off the market, others mad that she's a former stripper, but I don't know why any of that matters to them." Natasha frowned as she tried not to cry. "People are saying my career will end with this, and to those people I say good fucking riddance. I've given almost every last piece of me to this industry, and if me finally choosing my happiness is a problem then I'll let it be for only them. I'm happier than I've ever been, and that is my truth."

"So, you're leaving Hollywood behind?" He asked for clarity, and she shook her head in a partial negation. "I have decided to take a step back, this upcoming film is going to be my final for an indefinite amount of time. I want to focus on my family, and I deserve a break."

"That you do Natasha," Clint acknowledged, behind him on a screen a slideshow of all of her hit movies began to appear. Emphasizing the focus of conversation. "If you retired today I'd say that you've left your mark on the world, even more so with those beautiful babies."

"They are my entire world." Natasha clarified, they were her legacy, sure, but they were so much more than that too. They were a perfect mixture of you both. Apollo with her distinctive eyes, and your sweet smile. Then Luna with her smile, and dimples and your huffy temper.

Both with their own blooming personalities.

The redhead smiled brightly when a photo then flickered on the screen of your little family. The four of you were sat on a park bench, Apollo stood on her lap with his hand pointing to something behind her, she had smiled at the camera, but her eyes focus was torn between him and the phone. Then sat beside her was you, with a blanket over your chest, shielding the hungry baby from the harsh Fall winds.

It was meant to be a cute family photo, and it still was, but far more dysfunctional than intended. Natasha had tried to get Apollo to turn around, but he wouldn't take his eyes off of the firetruck in the back. Then Luna cried, and it was clearly hunger so you let her latch on, and even then it could've been cute, but then she grunted angrily so you covered her.

"You guys look happy," Clint acknowledged, and the woman smiled fondly. "We are."

"Well, I hope that in a few years time we'll be able to see you back on the screen," Clint moves to wrap up the segment. "But if we don't, then I'd like to dedicate a moment of silence to the greatest loss in the industry."

"Oh stop it," she joked tearily, leaning forward to playfully shove his shoulder. Clint winked at the emotional redhead, then he yanked her up and into a bear hug. "Tell Y/N I look forward to meeting her," he whispered, then he planted a kiss on her cheek, and she left the stage with a chorus of loud applause following her.

You turned the TV off, then wiped at the few tears that she'd elicited from you. Seeing her so vulnerable on TV, all in an attempt to make the media go easier on you, was overwhelming. It made your heart swell with more love than before and you couldn't quiet grasp how you could even love her more than you already did.

It also made you want her more than you did yesterday. No longer was it a feeling you could ignore, but instead a deep seeded need you'd had every intention of satiating upon your wife's return. Which is why you rebooked your brothers flight home, and reminded him about that one time you covered for him when he rear ended your evil neighbor Mildred's parked car.

—

The last thing Natasha expected to find as she entered your house late at night was you. But on the couch you sat, with a glass of red wine, and in a matter of seconds you were on her.

"Moya lyubov' I said drink water," she groaned, but it was a humored one. You looked up at her with wide eyes, then you smiled innocently. "Would you believe me if I said that Jesus showed up and magicked it himself?"

"Oh, is that so?" She cackled in a hushed way, you nodded vehemently. "Scouts honor Natty!"

"Mhm?" She teasingly hummed, the vibrato felt as she pressed her lips to yours, and you gasped affectedly. Natasha tried to pull back, feeling guilty for looking like she was trying to initiate anything, but then she felt guilty for feeling guilty because of course she wants you.

"No," you whimpered and clung to her biceps. "Daddy please, I-I'm ready." You were wet, desperation was controlling your mind now.

"You're drunk detka," she pointed out, but you showed her the bottle, proving that you'd only poured the one glass and hadn't had more than two sips. Which was only for liquid courage.

"What's changed for you?" Natasha pulled you down into her lap, you whined in frustration, but then you saw the glossy viridescent orbs full of concern waiting for your reply.

"Seeing you lose your cool on TV over me was hot," you admitted shamelessly, stroking her big ego in the hopes that it'd soon be her cock.

The redhead blushed, but quickly regained her cool as she leaned back into the cushion of the couch and firmly gripped your thighs apart.

"Can I see how hot it made you detka?" Her raspy voice made you dizzy, you nodded and moaned a soft please so she eagerly padded at the wetness seeping through your panties. "Oh look at you detka, you're just so needy, huh?"

She cursed in Russian when you answered with a buck of your hips. With a swift hand she laid you down and said, "You have to be quiet."

You shook your head. "I reminded Cole of a secret I kept, so he collected the kids and all they'd need and went to the guest suite."

"I knew I married a genius," she teased, her heart nearly exploded as you laughed. It'd been so rare to hear nowadays, so it was cherished.

"What do you want moya lyubov'?" Natasha looked deep in your eyes, wearing a smile that said only your pleasure was enough for her.

Instead of answering you pulled her down with a hand wrapped behind the nape of her neck. The kiss was soft, almost exploratory as it'd been so long since you'd had a spike in libido. But when Natasha still remained timid you took the initiative, your hand cupped her bulge, and you slid your tongue over her bottom lip.

She gasped and your tongue pushed beyond her lips, but hers expertly swirled around yours then darted down your throat. As you gagged she couldn't fight off the aching need so she pushed down into your hand and moaned.

The redhead pulled away, panting heavily as she tried to reel her neediness in. You drove her body wild, but she didn't want to get too lost in the lust if you weren't ready yet.

"You've been so patient with me," you purred, "Let me take care of you daddy, please?"

Natasha suddenly stilled, her sorrowful eyes set on yours. "Hey no, detka, you deserve endless patience without expectations."

"Yeah, I know," you breathed. "But we went from having sex every few days to not at all."

Natasha smiled tenderly, her hand cupped your cheek. "That's fine, I don't need sex to be happy with you Y/N. You alone are enough."

"Well, that sentiment is returned, but I'm absolutely serious, so let me give you head."

Natasha was shocked by your bold words, it was a quick recovery though as she snorted, "If I ever say no, please do have me committed."

Natasha smiled triumphantly as you giggled, it always made her heart warm to hear your joy.

The mood swiftly returned to one of lust when after she leaned back you slid out and onto the ground on your knees. The woman was tired, jet lagged to be more precise, but that didn't stop her from helping you take her sweats off.

Natasha was undeniably aroused, her cock stood tall as soon as you slid her boxers off.

"You gonna stare all night detka?" Natasha teased, then her eyes softened. "If you're not ready, just say the word lyubov', it'll be okay."

You shook your head free of worry, and smiled at her for being so sweet. It was comically endearing. Here she sat with an erection that had to be hurting her at this point and she only cared about your comfort. Which actually only made you even more excited to suck her off.

Natasha groaned, the sound raspier than ever before as you traced your tongue over the veins of her cock. Her hands gripped the cushions of the couch as your lips wrapped around her tip, and she nearly came on the spot as your hands steadily pumped up from the base of her cock as your other hand lazily played with her balls.

Her breathing became increasingly labored as you bobbed your head up and down her length, you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs as you'd gone commando beneath her sleep shirt. Hearing just how much she was enjoying this had immeasurably turned you on.

Natasha's hips involuntarily jerked. "Oh fuck." You giggled around her shaft, the vibrations making her do it again, and this time you'd choked. Universal instant karma you suppose.

Natasha stilled, fearful eyes looking down into yours. "I'm okay," you immediately said after gasping for air upon releasing her cock, you didn't move far though, you instead hovered her tip with a goofy smile for hopeful clarity.

"Are you close?" You asked, but with how her shaft continued to twitch beneath your fingertips you'd figured you had your answer. Natasha nodded, it was uncharacteristically shy and you found yourself wanting more soft sensual moments just like this one with her.

"Good." You mused. "Now how about you take over and cum down my throat as a reward."

The way you winked made the pit within her begin to unravel, Natasha's tip instantly coated in pebbles of white as you took over half of her length into your mouth, and proceeded to let her fuck your throat until it was raw. Your nails dug into the skin of her thighs that you were gripping for stability as she thrusted wildly, and glorious tears ran down your warm cheeks.

When she released down your throat the pleasure was blinding, her eyes slammed shut and she moaned for a prolonged moment as the hot spurts didn't stop. Strands of her cum slid down your chin along with your drool as she continuously thrusted until that wave of pleasure she was riding came to an end.

While you both caught your breath you began to get handsy, impatiently pulling at the hem of her shirt until she removed it with a huff of amusement. You then kissed up her body until her cock was trapped against her abdomen by your slippery cunt, and your lips met hers.

Natasha's hands fell to your hips instinctually, and she guided you as you slowly ground into her, letting her tongue explore your mouth. When you whimpered with need she pulled back and you were met with dark, lusty eyes.

"I know you want me inside detka," she teased as she ran a thumb over your swollen lip that was still somewhat coated in her essence. "But daddy's missed your pussy in more ways than one, and I can't help but to need to taste you."

"Please," you whispered affectedly, and she pulled you back in for a deep, heartfelt kiss. "Thank you detka, lay down for daddy now."

Natasha removed your shirt seamlessly as you laid down, the fabric had barely left your skin before you felt her hands all over your body. One second they were gripping you by the hips to keep you from bucking into her face, then they no longer cared as they sought out your breasts. Natasha's tongue flicked over your bundle of nerves just as her thumbs pinched your nubs, and your body writhed as you came.

The orgasm you experienced was intense as the aftershocks continued rolling through you, and in retrospect it was also embarrassingly quick. But it'd been so long and Natasha was just that good, she never struggled to get you to let go.

Every muscle in your body relaxed for all of two seconds, but then the redhead continued to lavish away at your cunt. Cleaning up your arousal, but then delving even deeper to pull another, somehow more intense orgasm from the depths of your soul. Stars bloomed behind the lids of your eyes as you screamed her title.

Over and over again too. Natasha was like a woman starved as she refused to leave her place between your thighs. When you tried to shimmy away she growled, it was terrifying, but in the best way as you involuntarily gushed.

You knew that if you really needed her to stop you could say your safe word, but as much as you felt overstimulated you felt just as good.

"Fuck I missed this," Natasha moaned as she continued to lick at your glistening, puffy cunt. "If I could, I'd never leave this sacred spot."

You were cognitively incapable of a verbalized response besides the occasional, pitiful whine.

Natasha admired your fucked out face briefly before turning your whimpers into loud moans as she wrapped her lips around your clit, and sucked harshly as she suddenly filled you with three of her skilled fingers, that now curled delicately into your g-spot with every thrust.

Tears streamed down your temples, matting your hair to your face, and seeping into the cushions of your couch. You came with a yelp this time, cum absolutely drenching the couch and leaving Natasha in awe. You however were hardly able to breathe, or see as the tears made your sight bleary. This was when your hands flew into her hair, tangling up in the locks as you used all your remaining strength to pull her up to your lips in a redirecting manner.

Natasha kissed you sloppily, her fingers now coming to a stop as she understood your silent pleas. Slowly, after distracting you with a swirl of her tongue around yours, she pulled out. You whined lowly at the loss, but your body appreciatively deflated into the cushions, and while you worked to calm down she began to kiss all over your skin in a calm, soothing way.

"We should go get you cleaned up lyubov'," she murmured against the skin of your neck that she'd been nibbling, your breathing had finally returned to an evened rhythm. "No, please."

Natasha pulled back to look you over, she was shocked to see your eyes desperate for more.

"Are you sure detka?" You frantically nodded, "Yes, fuck, I want you to fill me so bad daddy."

Natasha pressed her lips to yours, and slid her throbbing member into your slick cunt without a hitch. Neither of you were going to last long, and truthfully neither of you needed to. There was already stars where the ceiling once was as your lover pounded into your sloshing cunt.

"Gonna fill you to the brim detka," she moaned against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait to see your beautiful belly grow with my baby again."

Her breaths were hot as they fanned across your twice as hot skin. Every grunt she released brought with it a reactive clench of your walls, and it drove the woman atop of you insane.

Natasha came with a silent scream, her load unleashing havoc on your abused walls, you were a moaning mess as she slammed into your g-spot repeatedly as she chased this glorious high, milking it for all it's worth and herself as well in the process. When she came to a stop, and pulled out of you she gasped.

The amount of cum that oozed out of you was jarring at first inspection. Natasha had never released this much in her life, she's almost certain it's impossible for that much to exist inside a person at once but she just rationalized it as a delayed release for the year without sex.

There was no way you wouldn't get pregnant.

Especially not after Natasha thrusted back inside of you, mumbling something about preserving the chance that made you chuckle.

"Are you prepared for a third baby?" You teased your wife, with a hand mindlessly running through her hair as she laid with her face pressed against your chest. "I once told you detka, I'd make you my breeding bitch."

You cackled, chest shaking beneath her head to the point that she had to lift up and narrow her eyes at you. "I'm not sure why that's funny, but yes, I'm prepared for whatever life brings. With you by my side I'd willingly raise a dozen kids."

Natasha smirked when your humor died away, eyes wide with fear until she finally took over laughing for you. "God, you looked so scared."

You scoffed, "I was. That's a lot of c-sections." Natasha pursed her lips in thought, then she shrugged her shoulders. "Not if we have twins."

"We'll leave the twins to Maximoff," you soon decided over a yawn. "I think two more is fine."

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips. "Two more sounds perfect. A simple family of six."

"There's nothing simple about you Natasha."

"Yet you love me anyways." You could hear the insecurity in her tease, and it hurt your heart to think someone ever made her feel unlovable. "That I do." You gently guided her lips to yours, kissing her slowly before you guided her face back to the crook of your neck. "Very much."

Neither of you spoke another word, you just laid there soaking in the warmth of your love before slipping off into a restful nights sleep.

The first in a long time actually, and the last genuine one before Raven and Leo arrived.

——

6,389 Words

Nat's former job: Acting / Y/N's: Stripping

Nat's current job: Breeder / Y/N's: To be Bred

❤️ Kaitlyn. 🤭

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg

757 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 4 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 4: Want to Talk About It?

Joel attends your mother's funeral. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 3, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Death. Mention of suicide. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 4.5K

A/N: Anna is vaguely described. Not mentioned in this chapter BUT Anna is adopted (this will be explicitly in the text later) and has no blood relation to Goldie.

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

November 14, 2010

“You sure we should really be here?” Tommy asked, looking over at Joel.

“Course we should be here,” Joel replied, glancing at him and drying his sweaty palm on his black jeans. “We knew ‘er, too. Wouldn’t just be here to support… we’d be here anyway is what I’m saying.”

“Right,” Tommy nodded. “OK.”

The two of them were quiet, tucked away at the back of the funeral parlor. It wasn’t too packed with people, maybe two or three dozen, who were milling around, lining up to go look at your mom’s body. Joel couldn’t bring himself to do that part of it. He’d looked at his dad as he lay cold and still and now he had a hard time picturing him alive. He didn’t want to do that again.

“She’s gonna be here, right?” Tommy whispered. “I mean… Rhode Island is far and she hasn’t been back since, right?”

“It’s her mom” Joel whispered back. “Course she’ll be here.”

He looked back over his shoulder anyway. He wasn’t nearly as confident as he sounded.

Joel hoped you’d be here. It made sense that you would be. He hadn’t seen you in years. It had been so long he’d started to forget what you sounded like. It was like one day, just after prom, you decided he wasn’t a part of your life anymore and that was that. A switch he didn’t know existed had flipped and his whole life turned upside down with it.

He almost hadn’t known your mother died. Your fucking mother, the woman who fed him dinner more times than he could count, who called him Joely, who tugged on the ends of his curls when his hair got long and told him to not be shy, to take what he wanted from her kitchen because her home was his home, too. She’d died and he almost hadn’t even heard about it. He wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for a text from your sister.

Hey Joel, it’s Anna. She wouldn’t want me to tell you this but I think that’s bullshit. Our mom died a few days ago, the funeral is Sunday. Thought you might want to know. Hope you’re doing OK <;3

It sent him reeling more than anything else related to you had in so long. How could he not have known? That something so big could happen to you and he was just living his life as though things were normal? That he wasn’t helping you through it? He should be helping you through it.

But it hurt in other ways, too. It made him realize that, really, he was nothing to you. He wasn’t even your fucking Facebook friend. If something happened to you across the country, if you were in a car accident or you needed your appendix out, no one would tell him. He’d never know about it. You could die and it would be a normal day for him because he was nothing to you and no one would tell him that the most important person in the world was gone.

Before too long, people started finding their seats and Joel fought to not turn around and watch the doors, looking for you. But he still glanced back when you did come in, trailing behind a small cluster of people that looked vaguely familiar. He realized he probably met them at some family event or another, at a birthday party or BBQ because, for three years, you were only ever apart when you had to be.

And then there you were. You were wearing a black dress with black tights and black high heels and your eyes were red but your face was firm. There was a man beside you, one whose arm you clutched tight and Joel resisted the urge to glare at him. You didn’t even glance at Joel.

Anna came in behind you. She didn’t bother with the pretense of pretending not to cry, little trails of mascara running down her cheeks. But she smiled tightly at Joel and mouthed “hi” and he gave her a sad smile in return.

Joel watched as you, Anna and that fucking man settled into the front row, his arm going around your shoulders and tugging you against his side. Joel barely listened to the officiant at first, too busy focusing on you. You kept turning your head to look up at the man next to you and at one point he leaned over and kissed your temple and whispered in your ear. Joel ground his teeth.

But it was easy to pay attention when you got up to give your eulogy. You pulled your gold notebook out of your bag and carried it up to the podium. Your eyes were still red - he could see that, even from the back of the room - and your shoulders were hunched as you arranged the notebook in front of you. But you took a deep, shaky breath and looked up, back straightening and chin jutting out in defiance, jaw set tight.

“If I had to find one word to summarize my mother, it would be try,” you said. “She was made up of try, I think. She was always trying to make things better for my sister and I, always trying to build the life she wanted… I guess, in the end, trying just became too much for her…”

Your voice never wavered. It was stronger than Joel remembered but the tone and cadence were so familiar, so like home. Your eyes were red but you didn’t cry. You just stood there, fingers tight on your notebook that you only ever glanced down at, anyway.

Joel wanted to get up and hug you. You looked like you needed a hug. More than a hug. You looked like you needed someone to carry you for a while, like you needed someone to take you by the shoulders, look you in the eye and say “It’s OK. I’ll take it from here. Rest.” You needed it so much that Joel started to stand up, instinctively, when you finished your speech and headed back to your seat but the man you came in with met you near the podium, putting his arm around you and kissing the top of your head. Joel sat back down.

“She did good,” Tommy whispered as Joel stared straight ahead. For the first time, your eyes met his.

“Yeah,” Joel said, not looking away. “She did.”

After the service, there was a receiving line and Joel held Tommy back. He wondered if, maybe, he could get you alone that way. But that fucking guy was on you like glue, one of his hands on the small of your back he entire time. He was constantly directing you, constantly nudging you where he wanted you to be, adjusting you to stand how he wanted you to stand. Joel wanted to fucking punch him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anna smiled a little at him, her blue eyes lacking their usual spark. “I know it’s been a while but… well, Mom just loved you.”

Joel’s throat got tight.

“I loved her, too,” he said. “She was a great lady. Really.”

“Yeah,” Anna said, her voice wet as she looked back toward the casket. “Yeah, she was.”

Joel glanced at you, your fingers in a tight fist around the man’s shirt, your lips at his ear as he frowned a little. Anna looked back at him and followed his eyes.

“Don’t get me started,” she said, her voice low. “Mom wasn’t huge on him…”

Joel shook hands quickly with one of your aunts and then he was in front of you. He glanced over at the man and realized he recognized him. The man had to be twice your age, hair going gray and crows feet around his eyes. His chest got tight.

“Joel,” you said, one arm crossed over the front of yourself, clutching onto your opposite elbow. “Good of you to come.”

“Course,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake your hand or not. What did you do with the person who was once your best friend, the person you lost your virginity to, when you hadn’t spoken in years? “Always loved your mom. She was always nicer to me than I deserved.”

You huffed at that and the man pressed a little closer to you, his hand firmly planted on your lower back. You stood up straighter before you looked toward Tommy and your face softened a little. “Good to see you Tommy. How’s school going?”

“OK,” he shrugged. “I’m passing. Missed you.”

You smiled ever so slightly.

“Missed you, too.”

“You could come visit, you know,” Tommy said.

“Tommy,” Joel hissed and he just looked up at him.

“What! She could.”

“It’s not a great time for me to be leaving school,” you said. “I’ve got classes all year and writing intensives all summer… I’m not sure when I’ll be back again.”

“Not even to see Anna?” Joel frowned.

“Anna can always come visit us,” the man at your back said. “Sorry to cut the reunion short but we should keep things moving…”

“We’re last in line,” Tommy protested.

“And the family needs to get to the reception,” the man said. “I’m sure you can share your thoughts there.”

“Right,” Joel said, looking from the man to you. “Sure we can. C’mon Tommy.”

“But…”

“Let’s go,” Joel cut him off. “Don’t want to be rude.”

Joel looked back over his shoulder to you when he made it to the doors, your head bowed and the man’s large hand at the nape of your neck.

“Guy’s an asshole,” Tommy muttered as he climbed in Joel’s truck.

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, grinding his teeth a little. “Goldie always had shit taste in men.”

Joel felt like he deserved a goddamn medal for sitting there, watching you with that fucking guy, silent at a table with your family, family made up of Anna and people he didn’t know. Because, besides Anna, they weren’t your fucking family. He was. Him and Tommy.

He kept watching for a moment to try to get you alone, some point where you were away from that man who kept fucking pawing at you and who looked like he was old enough to be your fucking father. He tried not to think about how shitty that was. To corner you at your mother’s funeral and force you to talk to him. But it was hard to really care.

The time for etiquette was long passed. He missed you. He kept thinking that, eventually, the feeling would fade. That he’d wake up in the morning and think of something besides you. That he’d stop looking for signs of you everywhere and in everything. That, eventually, some day, you wouldn’t be the first person he thought of talking to when he had a shit day or when something good happened to him. He couldn’t keep going like this, going on without the answers he should have fucking marched up to you and demanded years ago. Joel wasn’t the type to think the world owed him things but fuck, didn’t you? Didn’t you owe him something? Didn’t being inseparable things whose roots and branches had become so intertwined that one couldn’t live without the other mean that you had to at least tell him before you cut yourself away? You certainly didn’t seem to think so. He disagreed.

And then you came home with that guy, that fucking guy, the one who couldn’t possibly be good enough for you and you let him touch you and hold you and control you during what Joel knew had to be one of the worst times of your life. Did that guy even know? Did he know that your mom took you prom dress shopping and adjusted the hemline herself at the sewing machine in your living room? Did he know how you carefully removed the screen of your bedroom window to climb out of it so your mom wouldn’t hear you open the front door when you left to lay in the bed of Joel’s truck and star gaze at the park? Did he know how sad and kind your mother’s face was when she told him that you’d left town, moved to Rhode Island months earlier than planned, when he came by your house a few days after prom to demand answers?

Did you?

Eventually, you stood up and leaned down to whisper in the man’s ear and you left the room. The man watched you go and Joel waited for a moment before he followed you. The door you’d gone through led to a hall with bathrooms and an exit to the parking lot and he took a guess, hovering outside the ladies’ room door. He was right, and you nearly walked into him a minute later.

“Shit,” you said, sniffling a little. “Sorry…”

“S’OK,” he said quickly. “Thought I’d check on you. See if you wanted a drink.”

“A drink?” you raised your eyebrows at him. He had the strangest urge to trace the arch of them with his thumb.

“Yup,” he pulled his flask ever so slightly from his inside leather jacket pocket before tucking it away again. “Bullshit that the person who probably coordinated this whole thing can’t even fucking drink for it. Thought you could use one.”

“Jesus, could I ever,” you said, looking around quickly. “C’mon.”

You took his hand as though everything was normal and pulled him along behind you to the door, shoving it roughly open before stepping out into the cool November air.

“Oh shit, one sec,” you said, hovering by the door for a moment, holding it open with one hand and balancing on one foot. Joel laughed.

“What the fuck are you doin’ Goldie?”

“Making sure we don’t get locked out,” you replied, pulling your heel off and putting your shoe between the door and the frame, closing the heavy metal door delicately to make sure it stayed propped open. You limped awkwardly for a few steps before Joel just shook his head and went to you, looping his arm around your waist and half carrying you to the little partial wall that separated the restaurant from the parking lot. He set you down there and watched as you rolled and turned your ankle for a moment before stretching your foot out to a point. “Never buy heels, Joel. They’re not worth the pain.”

“Noted,” he smiled a little and pulled the flask out of his coat pocket before sitting beside you. He handed it to you first and you looked at it for a moment, smiling a little.

“This is familiar,” you said, a hint of fondness in your voice.

“Yeah but I bought the booze this time,” Joel said. You nodded slowly as you took a sip. You winced a little as it went down and handed it back to him. He looked at it for a moment, his finger tracing the neck of it. The metal shined a little, wet with you and the rum. He brought it to his lips, taking a drink. “So… how’re things?”

“You mean besides the fact that I’m here instead of working on final projects because my mom decided to slit her wrists in the bathtub?” You asked, brows raised. “Just peachy.”

“Sorry,” Joel flinched, handing you the flask again. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “That was a stupid question.”

You shrugged.

“And how are you?” You asked, pulling your arms in tight to yourself. “I know it’s… it’s been a while…”

“Well, someone I know changed their damn phone number,” Joel said, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over your shoulders. “But shit’s same as always. Or same as always for the last few years, anyway. Tommy is doing good in school right now. Got a job with some pretty steady work.”

You frowned, tugging the coat a little tighter to yourself. Joel was reminded of when you’d borrow his letterman years ago, how the sleeves swallowed your fingers because his arms were long enough that they had to special order his size. You’d always looked so fragile there, in his coat. You’d always looked so protected there, too.

“Did you already get your associates?” You took drink and handed the flask back.

“Nah,” he said, taking it. “Decided not to bother. What’s the point, just flunk out in a semester, maybe two. Figured I’d save myself a lot of grief and money and just cut to the chase, you know?”

He took a drink.

“That’s bullshit,” you said, gaping at him. “Joel, come on, it’s just two years, you can…”

“I can what?” He cut you off. “I can fuck around at community college, act like I was ever gonna amount to anything…”

“Of course you’re going to amount to something,” you interrupted him this time. “You already amount to something and…”

“I amount to something?” He asked, voice getting heated. “Really? Is that why you took off without a fuckin’ word? Just ditched me here, blocked me on fucking Facebook, changed your fuckin’ number? Because I amount to so damn much…”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what!” He was on his feet now and you flinched at his raised voice. “Don’t talk about it? Don’t point out the fucking obvious? Don’t actually hold you accountable for your shitty actions?”

“My shitty actions?” You gaped at him before you laughed darkly. “Oh wow, that’s fucking rich coming from you…”

“Yeah, yours!” He yelled. “Because I sure as shit don’t know what the fuck I did…”

“Bullshit you don’t know what you did,” you snapped. “Come on, Joel, don’t pretend that you’re dumb. Don’t pretend that I’m dumb. We both know…”

“I don’t know shit! I don’t know a fuckin’ thing when it comes to you, Goldie! I know you left! I know your mom wouldn’t give me your number! I know you apparently never even fucking thought about me…”

“You don’t know a goddamn thing…”

“I do know that you showed up here with that fucking guy!” He pressed on. “What the fuck is that? How old is he, hm?”

“It’s not your fucking business!”

“Should be someone’s fucking business!” He snapped. “Because he has to be, what, twice your age?”

“So what if he is? I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want…”

“An adult,” he laughed but there was no humor in it. “Adult, you can’t even buy your own fucking booze and you’re, what, fucking some 50-year-old man? What is he, your fucking professor, that it?”

“He’s 40!” You snapped, on your feet, awkwardly off balance with your missing shoe. “And who cares how I met him, he thinks I’m smart! He wants to be around me, he looks out for me, he…”

“He’s takin’ advantage of you is what he’s fuckin’ doing!” Joel’s chest was heaving. “Been watching him control you all goddamn day! You really think he cares about you? Knows you? You’re just gonna be one of many to him, Goldie, he probably does this with every pretty girl in his damn classes…”

“Does he propose to them?” Your left hand flew in between you, palm facing you as you held it up. There was a large, solitary oval diamond on your ring finger. Joel felt sick. “I’m not just some girl to him, I’m not just another lay in a long line of lays. He loves me, he respects me and I love him and I don’t need your fucking judgement, Joel.”

“Doll?” Joel’s head whipped around to see that fucking guy poking his head out of the door you’d propped open with your missing shoe. “Everything OK?”

“Fine,” you smiled a little and shrugged out of Joel’s coat, handing it back to him. “Just needed some air.”

“Folks are looking for you,” he said, looking over at Joel for a moment. “Should get back.”

“Right,” you said, taking a deep breath for a moment before looking back at Joel. “Good to catch up, I guess. You really should think about getting your associates at least. It’d do you good.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond, limping awkwardly for the door before delicately putting your foot into the black pump as your fucking fiance held onto you.

Joel gave himself a few minutes to calm down before going back inside and finding Tommy.

He didn’t stay.

Instead, he dropped Tommy at his mom’s house and headed to the bar near his apartment that he liked best. He played there sometimes, just him and his voice and his guitar, knowing full well that there’d never be a record label scout in the crowd but it felt good pretending.

It was still early, the bar pretty dead, and he took a seat off to the side before ordering a Shiner. He sat there, grinding his teeth and trying not to think of you with him. It wasn’t even that he got to be with you all the time instead of Joel. If you didn’t want Joel, fine, he wasn’t going to force himself on you but fuck, couldn’t you see what was right in front of you? That you deserved better than that?

“Hey.”

Joel almost jumped at the sound of someone next to him. He turned to find a woman there, about the same age as him. She was beautiful, with dark skin and curly hair and eyes it would be very easy to get lost in if he could get lost in anything right then.

“Hey,” he replied, looking back toward the bar and taking another sip of his beer.

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked.

Joel shrugged.

“Thanks,” she said, climbing up on the stool next to him. “Don’t really feel like dealing with the attention I get when I sit by myself but I desperately needed a drink…”

She leaned over the bar and flagged down the bartender before ordering a whiskey on the rocks.

“That good a day?” Joel asked after a moment.

“Something like that,” she sighed. Jimmy, the bartender, set her drink in front of her and she took a sip before sighing. “Looks like about the same for you.”

“Yup,” he said.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked after a moment.

“Not really,” he replied. She nodded. “You?”

“No,” she said. “I’m Ashley, by the way.”

“Joel.”

“Good to meet you, Joel,” she smiled a little.

He sat there with her for a while. He liked her well enough, he supposed. She was nice and lightly funny in a way that didn’t cut him deep. But when she smiled, she smiled like you. Slow and easy at first and then spreading wide like your whole self was cracking open with it. Fuck, he’d always loved making you smile like that. He missed making you smile like that.

So when he finished his beer and didn’t want to be away from that smile, not yet, he asked if she wanted to come back to his place.

“Sure,” she smiled like you. “That’d be nice.”

They skipped the pretense of it, not bothering to feel each other up on the couch or make a pot of coffee that would sit untouched until morning. Instead, they went straight to his bedroom, pawing at each other’s clothes and pulling their bodies free of their confines as quickly as possible.

Joel kissed her deep and hard and desperate and she pressed her soft, plush body against his and it felt good, getting lost in another person like this. It seemed like the only time in his life that he wasn’t stuck living at least halfway in some other reality where things had turned out different was when he was inside someone else. He sought it out like an addict, always searching for that next high, anything that would put him far away from the low he lived in. But he was careful. Always used a condom, always got at least some feel for the woman he was fucking first so he felt like he could trust her.

But he was reckless with Ashley. He needed to feel something else too bad to put much thought into any of it. He reached for his nightstand and fumbled in the top drawer, pulling the last condom from the box and making a mental note to buy more when he got paid next. He tore it with his teeth and realized too late that he’d caught more than just the foil pack when he did.

“Fuck,” he panted, already naked on top of her. “Do you have…”

“No,” she said, all breathless and needy below him. “But it’s OK. I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I’m OK with it if you are.”

He looked down at her in the darkness, the moonlight casting shadows over her face. But then she smiled at him, slow at first then all at once. Just like you.

“Really,” she said. “It’s fine.”

“Fuck it,” he said, lining himself up with her entrance, the soft, wet heat of her pulling him in.

“That’s the idea,” she smiled and then gasped as he pushed into her, chasing that high with her body below him.

He fucked into her until she came and then she pushed him on his back, fucking herself down on him and Joel looked up at her and got the sense that she was in this for the same reasons he was. That this had very little to do with him.

“Gonna come,” he warned, his hands on her waist. “Should pull out…”

“Don’t,” she panted. “About to come again, fuck, just… just let me…”

Her hands spread wide on his chest and she rode him harder, faster before pushing him in deep and coming around him, the pulsing of her walls setting off his orgasm, only aware enough to care for half a second before it hit that he shouldn’t be coming inside a total fucking stranger.

She collapsed on top of him and he held her for a moment, not able to shake the feeling that he’d just made a monumental mistake. It reminded him of the morning after prom, the morning after the last time he came inside someone without protection. How afraid he’d been that he’d ruined things for you, that he’d gotten you pregnant and destroyed your life. But he hadn’t. At least, not that he knew of. He just lost you instead.

Ashley left not long after, just a quick “Thanks, Joel. That was fun.” after he gave her a glass of water. They swapped phone numbers but, in the moment, it seemed like pretense. This was what you did after a one night stand to pretend like it wasn’t a one night stand. It felt better if you could lie to yourself and say that every random fuck was just the start of a relationship that didn’t pan out. He didn’t plan to call her. He didn’t expect to hear from her again.

He was wrong.

Next Chapter

A/N: We all know what happened there with Ashley, right?

OK, cool.

Hope you all enjoyed this little glimpse at the last time Joel and Goldie saw each other before they reunited at the same bar where Joel picked up Sarah's mom 12 years earlier! These two, they kill me, I swear.

Thanks so much for reading the menace that is high school best friend!Joel. I'm in love with him, I fear. I hope you are, too.

Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

103 notes · View notes

criminalamnesia · 2 years

Text

Habits of My Heart

warnings: fluff, Jake being soft, childhood best friends to lovers, she/her pronouns used, not proofread, Jake is probably a little ooc sorry, I’m not really good at writing fluff so I hope this isn’t too cheesy

summary: you haven’t seen Jake in months due to his busy schedule, but after he returns from his top-secret TOPGUN mission, you decide to hop on the next flight to Fighter Town, USA.

author’s note: back with some Jake fluff because I’ve written enough angst for him lately and he deserves happiness

update: part 2 is out now! You can read ‘Into Your Arms’ here

You hadn’t talked to Jake for longer than a minute each time he called in the past six weeks. This was nothing new; every time he deployed, your chats were painfully short. By the time you answered the phone, you had enough time to say a quick, ‘hi, how are you?’ and then a ‘be safe, tex’ before the line died and you both went back to your busy lives.

It was difficult, but you were used to it by now. Besides, you two didn’t need to speak every day anyways. You had been friends since kindergarten– having been pushed together by your mothers who had also been childhood friends. At first you had loathed him, but as you both grew, you learned to love him.

You had even held a little crush on him for a few years during high school. Who wouldn’t? He was the star football player with a dazzling smile and a flirtatious tongue. He had all the girls at school drooling over him, you included.

But nothing ever came of it, you were sure of that. You’d rather run into oncoming traffic than admit to Jake Seresin that you liked him. He would never stop teasing you about it, and besides– it’s not like he liked you back, right?

By the time you two were seniors in high school, you’d forgotten all about your crush. Especially after you walked into the girl’s bathroom during prom and interrupted Jake and some cheerleader’s intense make-out session on the bathroom counter. Yeah, that was enough to knock some sense back into your head.

Then you went to college and Jake enlisted. You saw each other less and less– and maybe everyone in the world was right when they said “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” because a day could not go by without you wishing to see Jake’s stupid little grin.

You talked on the phone and occasionally FaceTimed. He surprised you at your college graduation– but after he finished his training and started flying for real, it was rare you saw him. So, that’s how you found yourself here, at some bar in Fighter Town that his mom told you he frequented (how the hell did she know that?).

You hadn’t told him you were coming. He basically just got back to the states himself– he sent you a text while you were on your flight confirming that and telling you’d he talk to you tomorrow– that he was going to get some post-we-almost-died-drinks with his friends.

You couldn’t think of any better way for him to spend his night.

The Hard Deck definitely looked like a place Jake would frequent as you walked through sand to reach its doors. You could see through the windows how crowded it was, and you could hear the abundance of voices inside from the parking lot. Definitely his scene.

You pushed through the glass doors and were instantly swept into the sea of people. You saw many dressed in service khakis, which you silently cursed as it made it harder to clearly spot Jake.

The crowd pushed you up to the bar, which you appreciated. You were starting to feel nervous– why? You didn’t know. He was your longest friend and you were feeling nervous over seeing him again. You almost wanted to laugh if you didn’t think you’d vomit the moment you opened your mouth.

“You okay, sweetie?” A woman’s voice cut over the roar in the room, her kind eyes locking onto yours as she leaned slightly over the bar.

You nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Just fine, thanks.”

“First time here?” She replied, a small smile forming on her mouth.

You nodded, and before you could even speak, she was sliding you a beer.

“It’s on the house. And you’ll get used to the crowd,” she smiled and nodded before disappearing to tend to other customers.

You silently thanked her kindness and took a long swig of your beer, hoping it would give you some liquid courage.

Maybe you were so nervous because you hadn’t seen him in so long. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d talked in person, face-to-face. Maybe last year? You had certainly changed since then, and you knew he had, too.

“You’ve literally been his friend since he was still a bed-wetter,” you muttered to yourself, standing on your tip toes as your eyes scanned the busy bar.

You spotted him in the back by the pool tables. He had his back turned to you, but you’d recognize that blond hair and posture anywhere. Nerves forgotten, you quickly finished your beer and begun to weave through the crowd, hoping he wouldn’t turn around.

As luck would have it, he stayed planted to the spot you’d first saw him in as you finally made it to his little group. Unsurprisingly, they were all in service khakis. They’d probably been on assignment with him.

No one saw you as you crept up behind him. He was lost in thought as he studied the pool table, which gave you the chance to really surprise him.

“Hey pilot, can we go for a ride in your jet?” You tried to get the cheesy line out seriously, but couldn’t help but let a little snort escape as he turned around, face smug and a suggestive reply already leaving his mouth before his eyes landed on you.

“What the fuck?” His eyes widened as he took you in, looking you up and down.

“Surprise!” You threw up some jazz hands as you grinned at him.

He engulfed you in a hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly and lifting you from the ground as he swung you around. You laughed, clinging on to him. By now, his friends had noticed the two of you, but you paid them no mind as Jake set you back on solid ground.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” He said, pulling you to the side.

“That’s kinda the point of a surprise, Tex,” you teased. You couldn’t stop smiling, and he couldn’t either.

“You look good. It’s been, what, a year since we saw each other?”

“Too long,” you replied. Now it was your turn to look him up and down. He definitely looked good.

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

You scoffed, playfully pushing his chest. “Oh, you know whose it is. I’m not the one leaving the country on top-secret missions at the drop of a hat.”

“It makes me mysterious. Ladies love the mystery.”

“Do they?” You laughed, leaning slightly into him. God, you had missed him. Hearing his laugh through the phone could not compare to hearing it right in front of you.

“They do. You should know. You’re madly in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart rate spiking the tiniest bit at the thought of being found out– but you knew he was teasing. He always teased like this.

“If anything, you’re the one madly in love with me. All the navy groupies in this bar and you’re over here talking to me. Gotta mean somethin’.”

His smile was blinding as he wrapped and arm around your shoulders, pulling you sideways into his chest.

“You’re my favorite navy groupie.”

“I’ll let that comment slide because I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face.”

He laughed as he steered you back towards the pool table. His friends had all been watching the two of you, but as you approached they tried– and failed– to act as if they hadn’t.

“And who’s this?” A man piped up as he looked you up and down from across the pool table.

“This, everyone, is the biggest pain in my ass that’s been there since kindergarten.”

You raised a hand in a wave, rolling your eyes at Jake’s words. “What he means is that I’m the better half of the duo.”

The only woman of the group looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her mouth was agape as she studied you and Jake.

“We all thought Hangman was making you up!”

“You thought Hangman was making her up,” a man with a mustache and aviators replied smugly, leaning in closer to the woman. “You owe me $20, Phoenix.”

Phoenix grumbled to herself as she begrudgingly took out her wallet and passed a $20 to the man. He tipped an imaginary hat at her and laughed. She punched him in the arm.

“I am definitely not made up, and I am definitely ready to embarrass Jake. Who wants to know what?” You smiled slyly as the group erupted into chaos; Jake’s shouts for them to ignore you going unheard as the group pulled you in.

—

Jake finally pulled you away from the others hours later, claiming he’d been embarrassed enough for one night and that he had a reputation to uphold.

You had made sure to get every one of his friend’s numbers before leaving, just incase you felt like embarrassing him some more.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence as you made your way to his truck. You had taken a taxi from your hotel, so it worked out.

He opened the passenger door for you and you rolled your eyes as you hopped into the vehicle. He slid into the driver’s seat a second later, but made no move to start the car.

“You okay, Tex?” You asked, worried. He was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Just thinking about all the ways I can get you back for tonight,” he told you, his gaze containing a hint of mischief.

“Can it wait until I’m back in Texas?” You pleaded, to which he shook his head.

“Nope, absolutely not.”

You groaned and he grinned.

“You’re evil,” you told him.

“I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged.

You both fell silent for a minute.

“I didn’t think you were gonna make it back this time. Your mom was telling me what little she knew, but it wasn’t a lot, and I was worried.” You looked down at your hands in your lap as you spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? All I knew was that you were overseas.”

“I was trying to get you to not worry,” he chuckled.

“I always worry about you, idiot. You’re reckless and headstrong. You’re always finding trouble.”

He didn’t respond for a beat. Then:

“Would it make you stop worrying to hear that I’m coming home for a bit?”

“You’re full of shit,” you instantly replied. You hadn’t known him to ever take time off from his job. He loved being a pilot; he loved the navy, and he was incredibly dedicated to his work. It was one of the things you admired about him, but also secretly wished were different about him.

“I’m serious. I don’t know how long, at least a month– but I’m coming home. It’s been too long.”

You sat in silence, multiple emotions washing over you all at once. You knew something serious had to have happened for Jake to be taking a step back, and you were scared as to what that was. As far as you knew, none of his fellow aviators had died, but what if he or they had come close to it?

He knew the risk of getting up in the air, they all did. It was part of the job. But you had never seen him so hesitant to go back to work, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

You took a deep breath and nodded. You could unpack this baggage later– if he’d ever let his walls down and talk to you about it. Now, you were just glad to have him back.

“You still look worried,” he teased.

“Shut up.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“Oh, I’m cute?” You grinned against your will.

“The cutest,” he replied.

“You say that to all the girls.”

“No,” he said. “Just you.”

Silence filled the air once more. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out his angle. Jake always teased– it was his nature. He was the annoying guy best friend who said things to try and get you to blush. Then he’d make fun of you for blushing.

“I haven’t missed your teasing, Tex,” you finally said.

“I do love to tease you,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. “But I’m not right now.”

“Did you hit your head or something?”

“What? No.”

“I think you hit your head. You never compliment me–”

He interrupted. “I compliment you all the time–”

“Teasing and joking doesn’t count.”

He fell silent, having been defeated. Then he muttered a quiet:

“I do think you’re cute.”

“Are we in grade school? Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming. Don’t actually pinch me, dickwad.” You warned before he could even raise his hand. He laughed.

“Can you take this seriously?”

“Oh, how the tables have turned. How does it feel, Tex? Annoying, huh?” You leaned slightly over the center console, poking him in the arm. “Now you know how it feels.”

“I don’t act like this,” he shot back.

“Yes you do. If only you could see yourself–”

“Okay, I get it,” he huffed exasperatedly.

“Oh, do you? I don’t think you do–”

You were cut off as he leaned over the center console, crashing his lips onto yours. You were startled, eyes wide as you quickly pushed him off. He looked confused, maybe even a little hurt, but he backed off instantly.

“What the hell was that?”

He shrugged. You mocked his shrug, throwing up your hands. He mimicked your movements, throwing his hands up as well.

You both looked at each other for a few tense seconds before leaning back in, kissing with fervor. Never in a million years did you think you’d be kissing Jake Seresin, yet here you were. And he initiated it.

You’d have to unpack that later.

You pulled back from him again, both of you catching your breaths. You turned away from him, shifting in your seat to face the windshield. You felt his eyes boring holes into the side of your head.

“Are you angry?” He asked.

“What? No. Why would I be angry?” You replied, turning back to face him.

“Okay, you’re being confusing. First you’re pulling away then you’re kissing me back then you’re turning away–”

“I’m waiting for you to get the message and drive so we don’t make-out in the parking lot of this bar, where all of your colleagues are currently at.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding as he finally turned the keys in the ignition.

Both of you sat in silence as he drove out of the parking lot. It wasn’t until you were almost at his apartment that you spoke again.

“Do I get a badge for kissing you? One that says: ‘I made-out with Jake Seresin and all I got was this stupid badge’?” You looked over at him with a straight face. He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even know why I missed you,” he sighed as he pulled into a parking spot, putting the car in park and turning it off.

“Just shut up and kiss me again,” you told him as you slipped out of the car, meeting him at on the driver’s side.

“If you’ll be quiet, then gladly.”

You rolled your eyes, but you weren’t annoyed. Not in the slightest.

#glen powell #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #fluff #best friends #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #hangman top gun #hangman fluff

843 notes · View notes

agaypanic · 8 months

Note

another Benny x human reader idea i have is that they are in the mist of a supernatural showdown/battle and it goes so horribly wrong that the reader nearly dies but luckily because of Benny being so protective of her he gets brave and uses his magic to save her life and from the fear of losing her

Prom Night (Benny Weir X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: When Jesse turns up at the prom, you and your friends have to stop him from trying to get Sarah in his clutches. In an attempt to get her to join him and his wannabe cult, he tries forcing her to turn into a full vampire by biting Ethan. But Ethan’s not the only one who gets a run in with death.

A/N: i don’t remember the exact plot of the S1 finale episode and i dont feel like looking it up or watching for reference. also fuck canon, the gang + reader are in junior/senior year bc when i went to school, prom (ik it’s not specifically prom in the episode but im making it prom) was only for upperclassmen and i still think it’s wild that the boys are 14-15 + freshmen/sophomores while the girls are 17-18 + juniors/seniors

***

You had been dreaming of this day since you were a little girl, as cliche as that sounded. The fancy dress, the cutest date, the perfect night. You had the dress; you looked with Sarah and Erica for weeks and even found shoes that matched perfectly. You had the date, your boyfriend Benny gave you the cheesiest and best promposal using magic and the help of your friends. Now, you were waiting to have the best night of your teenage years.

It started with Benny picking you up. Despite dating you for a few years, he was still stumbling over his words at the sight of you when you opened the door.

“Wow, you’re-” Benny cut off his high-pitched voice by clearing his throat, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. “God, you look beautiful, Y/n.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Bens.” You grinned, letting him into the house. You gave him a kiss, and your mom startled you by snapping a picture with her camera.

“Okay, lovebirds, pose for me.” The two of you complied, arms wrapped around each other and smiles wide as your mom blinded you with the camera’s flash. After a few hundred pictures, she finally let you leave the house.

You were surprised to step out onto your front porch and find a limo parked in front of your house. Benny held out his arm for you to take, and he opened the car door for you to slide in first.

“Benny, how did you afford this?” You asked, looking at the beautiful interior as the limo drove off.

“Me and the guys chipped in. And I may have used my devilish charm to get a discount.” You and Benny both knew what he meant by ‘charm,’ especially by him wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re gonna go to Ethan’s to get him and Sarah, and then we’ll pick up Erica and Rory at their houses.”

“Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to see Sarah and Erica’s dresses. They’re so perfect.”

“Yeah, I bet they are.” Benny kissed the side of your head. “I wanted to pick you up first, though, so we could have some alone time. Everything’s been so crazy lately.”

You smiled, grabbing Benny’s arm to put over your shoulders so you could tuck yourself into his side. The two of you talked about little things that you weren’t able to tell each other due to monster fights or big homework assignments taking priority. As the limo became filled with your friends, the conversation split into multiple topics until you finally reached the school.

“You look good in blue.” You told your boyfriend, eyeing his outfit in the disco lights. “I was a bit scared that you would look kinda ridiculous in this suit, but you honestly look pretty hot.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t look at least a little ridiculous.” Benny laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. “But thank you, baby. Wanna dance?”

“I’d love to.” You slipped your hand into his outreached one, and he dragged you to the center of the gym as a slow song came on.

The night you dreamed of was going perfectly. You danced with your boyfriend practically all night, although you danced with all your friends to the more upbeat songs. Benny couldn’t stop telling you how pretty you were, keeping at least one hand on you the whole evening.

“I’m getting kind of hungry!” You had to almost shout in Benny’s ear for him to hear you, being drowned out by the crowd of students and blaring music. “Should we get out of here?”

“Whatever you want, babe!” Benny responded, guiding you through the dancing crowd to the gym wall.

“You go get the limo, I’ll round everyone up and meet you outside.” Benny nodded and gave you a parting kiss before exiting the gym, leaving you to find your friends. The task was pretty easy: you found Ethan and Sarah dancing in the corner of the dance floor, Rory trying to flirt with girls and absolutely tearing up the snack table, and Erica giving glares to anyone who got too close to her or asked her to dance with them.

You all left the gym together and headed for the front entrance, where Benny was probably waiting with the limousine. The hallways were dark, which was a bit strange, but none of you questioned it.

“Any ideas on where to go?” You asked, the front entrance in sight. “I just know I’m starving.”

“Oh! There’s this new place that opened up on the other side of town! Totally fancy.” Rory said.

“Are we sure we can afford fancy food?” Ethan asked. “We could get some fast food.” You laughed.

“Oh yeah. Let’s take the limo through a drive-through, I’d love to see that.”

“Leaving so soon?” A voice echoed down a hallway to your left. Everyone turned and tried looking down the dark hall to see a mysterious figure. The person walked towards you slowly, stopping when they were visible to you.

Jesse Black.

“Thought you’d save me a dance, Sarah.” He approached the girl, giving her a faux pout. You and Ethan moved to stand in front of her, staring Jesse down.

“Guys, are you ready?” Benny came through the front entrance in a hurry. “The limo’s waiting. Why are you- Oh.” He halted next to you when he saw Jesse, who smirked at him. Immediately, Benny put a hand on your elbow to gently tug you behind him, so he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ethan, shielding you and Sarah from Jesse’s view.

“Relax, Weird,” Jesse said, tilting his head. “I’m not here for your little girlfriend.” In a flash, Jesse pushed everyone away from Sarah with his telekinesis. You groaned in pain as you hit the floor, Benny landing next to you. “Heard you’re still a fledgling, Sarah. Honestly, I expected better.”

“Get away from her!” Ethan shouted, slowly standing up. Jesse ignored him, still looking at Sarah, slowly moving closer. With every step he took forward, she took a step back.

“I’ve been doing some thinking, baby. I want you back.”

“In your dreams, Jesse.”

“That’s cute, really.”

“I said get away from her!” Ethan launched himself at Jesse. But thanks to his vampire agility, Jesse grabbed the boy by the lapels of his suit jacket and threw him at the wall.

“Don’t hurt him!” Sarah shouted, ready to run to Ethan’s aide, but Jesse reached him first. Everyone froze as Jesse taunted Sarah, tearing Ethan’s sleeve near the cuff and putting his wrist close to his fangs.

“Look at yourself, Sarah. It’s like you have feelings for the little pipsqueak.” Jesse laughed as if the idea itself was a big joke. But Sarah didn’t respond. Jesse took her silence as confirmation. “Holy shit, you do.”

Erica and Rory ran at Jesse from opposite sides, hoping to catch him off guard. But Jesse unfortunately saw it coming, stepping back and pushing Rory into Erica, making them fall and slide away on the floor.

“You wanna be with him so bad?” Jesse asked Sarah, paying the rest of you barely any mind. “Let me help you with that.”

Ethan screamed in pain as Jesse sunk his fangs into his wrist. Ethan crumbled in the vampire’s hold until he was dropped onto the floor, writhing around as the venom started to spread. Sarah ran to the boy, trying to figure out how to help him. Jesse simply walked away.

“Hope you like him enough to spend all of eternity with him,” Jesse called out behind his shoulder. “If not, you’ll know where to find me.”

While Sarah whimpered frantic apologies to Ethan, Benny left your side to follow Jesse. Worried for your boyfriend’s safety and what he was about to do, you were hot on his tail.

“Get back here!” Benny shouted. You wondered how nobody had wandered out of the gym to see what all the commotion was. “I said get back here!” Benny shot a spark at the evil vampire, which was quickly dodged. In the blink of an eye, your boyfriend was held up against the wall in a chokehold, slowly struggling to breathe.

“Wanna be like your friend over there, Weir?” Jesse asked with an evil, toothy grin. He moved his hand to uncover the side of Benny’s neck, using his other hand to tilt his head to the side.

It was a bit of a struggle with the heels and dress and all, but you launched yourself at Jesse, yanking his head away from your boyfriend’s neck before he could sink his teeth into him. Jesse let go of Benny to try and pull your limbs off of him, but you had an iron grip.

Jesse backed himself into the row of lockers behind you, slamming your body into them. You yelped at the pain but did your best to hold onto him. Jesse didn’t appreciate your stubbornness, throwing his head back to headbutt you, which subsequently bashed your head against the metal behind you. It caught you off guard, the dizziness loosening your hold just enough for Jesse to push you off of him.

He turned around and picked you up, your wooziness worsening from getting up so fast, and threw you down the hall. You passed out from exhaustion and pain seconds after hitting the floor.

Jesse let out a low whistle and looked at Benny, who was sitting against the wall wheezing.

“She’s a little firecracker, isn’t she?” Jesse grinned, turning back to the exit. “Good luck with that.” Then he was gone.

Benny, too weak and lightheaded to stand, crawled over to you. He felt bad for passing Ethan to get to you, but Sarah and Rory seemed to be doing their best to help him. Benny soon reached your unconscious body, with Erica placing your head in her lap to keep it elevated.

“It’s bad, Benny.” She muttered to him, lifting a hand from under your head to show her fingers, which were lightly coated in blood. “She must’ve cut her head on the locker slats.”

“Shit.” Benny hissed, his own injuries forgotten as he focused on you. He didn’t have to be a doctor to know that head wounds were bad, probably even more since you were unconscious. “I don’t know what to do.” He said helplessly.

“Don’t you know a spell that can heal wounds or something?”

“Yeah, but not off the top of my head!”

“Well, remember!” Erica commanded. “I know you can remember, Benny. Do it.” Erica wished to be less harsh, but she knew she’d rather bully Benny into remembering a spell to heal you and apologize later than lose you.

Benny wracked his brain, trying to summon the spell to the front of his mind. But there seemed to be nothing but guilt. He should’ve known something bad would happen tonight, he should’ve prepared for it. He should’ve protected you from Jesse, but instead, you protected him. And now look at you, slowly losing a pulse.

“Benny,” Erica whispered, adjusting your limp body in her hold. “You can’t feel guilty for letting Y/n get hurt. You have to help her now. That’s what you owe her, not guilt.”

If Benny wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve joked about Erica going soft. Carefully, he took you from Erica’s grasp, putting your head in his hands. Benny hated to take a guess in such a situation, but he placed his hands on your head wound, which was wet and sticky, and started muttering an incantation that he hoped was a healing spell.

Benny closed his eyes to keep focus, repeating his words in desperation. Erica watched the faint glow coming from his hands seep into the cut. Slowly but surely, Benny felt the wound seal itself shut, the only evidence that you had it in the first place being the blood that slightly matted your hair.

“Oh, thank God.” Benny let out a breath of relief as you took a deep and sudden breath. He lifted your body to hold you close to his chest while you slowly gained consciousness. His cheek rested against the top of your head, trying to comfort both you and himself.

“What happened?” You asked weakly, trying to sit up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Benny answered quickly, gently stopping you from leaving your place against him. “It’s okay now; you’re okay now.” Erica gave you a weak smile and stood, walking away to give you some space. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” You asked, looking at Benny curiously.

“You’ve been looking forward to this night for, like, forever. And then it got ruined by all this.”

“You’re acting like it’s your fault, Bens.” You raised a hand to cup Benny’s cheek, and he immediately leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Despite the recent events, you smiled up at him. “I wanted to have the perfect and most fun-filled night with the cutest guy I could ever love. And I got just that.”

“Your head was slammed into a locker, and you probably almost died.” You simply shrugged.

“Everyone has their own definition of fun.” The two of you laughed quietly, and you sat up enough to kiss Benny’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He responded, kissing you again before hugging you tight against him.

#agaypanic #benny weir x reader #benny weir #my babysitter's a vampire x reader #my babysitter's a vampire

64 notes · View notes

pennedbyeve · 6 months

Text

I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THESE PICTURES.

Note:

Hi you guys. I’ve been toying with this idea for a while, but I did not want to publish it for no apparent reason. But after talking to Zee I ripped the bandaid off and here we are. Johnny is my baby and as I write this, Amira has become my other baby. The reason why I named this sunflower is simple - sunflowers are my favorite flower, and the two of them both go through tremendous growth. Though initially they will frustrate you, but that’s what makes a story good in my opinion.

Also friends to lovers is my favorite trope so writing this makes your girl happy without further ado, I hope you all like this.

One

Johnny

CHANGE WAS NEVER A GOOD THING. Well at least to him it wasn’t. He had a steady routine and was not trying to deviate from the normalcy of this thing called life. He was a creature of habit for sure, today was not an expectation to that. He had stopped by the local coffee shop, near his apartment and he was getting ready for work. The same old mundane 9-5, he hated but it put the food on the table, at least that was a good thing, right?

The bustling Chicago commute was never something he was ever used to, even though he had been here his whole life, sitting in the uber drinking his lukewarm coffee he was now ready for yet another, Monday morning. The hustle and bustle never stopped once it was time for him to get out as he clutched onto his coffee mug, he headed into the office buildings, and it was going to be another day of work.

For the last three years he had been working as an accountant to a local business, he could recall his excitement when he told his mom when he first got hired, but now that the flashness and everything had died down, it felt like everything was on a constant cycle, though he was acclimated to it and adjusted, if he had to pivot, he could.

Now that he was in his mid-twenties now and he was ready to settle down, he knew that marriage was one thing he had always wanted and desired, but his contenders were not his match, the ones his mom would attempt to set him up with just felt like a mismatch puzzle piece, and he never wanted to force anything.

He had his own expectations on his own personal wants and desires, but he knew that there was someone out there for him, or at least that’s what he prayed for. Of course, the doubts and his own insecurites would tell him otherwise, but he had a good solid group of friends – that reminded him that he was indeed worthy of love.

He saw how his parents operated in their marriage and he knew that one day he wanted that for himself.

After being at work – he was beyond ready to go, the evening commute was quieter than the morning, and the breeze was something he often looked forward to.

He found himself in the elevator ready to his floor, when he stepped in the scent of vanilla engulfed his nose, as he looked up at there she was – someone he had not seen in over a decade, the emotions that he thought he had moved on from were circulating his brain.

Amira Desiree Bulter, his first best friend from when they first met when they were five, from pinky promises to prom, they did everything together they both had went through ups and downs in their lives and then one summer everything changed.

He decided to stay in Chicago for college, she went to Atlanta, she had promised they would keep in contact with each other, but that was nothing less than the truth.

The elevator felt like it took forever to reach his floor, he slid past her, being that he was much taller than her it was easier to get off the floor.

Then he saw her step off the elevator along with him and his mind started to go over a mile a minute.

He remembered that Omar, his landlord mention the day prior that someone was moving in, but he did not care to even ask who the person was.

When he made it to his apartment he dug into his pocket, he patted around for his key as he retrieved it out his pocket, he watched as she went across the street to her own apartment, now he wondered how things will play out hopefully, they would just see each other every blue moon and not too often.

“Johnny?”

Her voice was just as he remembered, extremely soft and melodic. He could tell she was hesitant.

He turned around to look at her – the last time they saw each other she was a few inches shorter, and her face still had some baby fat.

He couldn’t even form the words to speak to her, and he knew that was going to eat him alive all night.

Amira

SEEING JOHNNY BROUGHT BACK ALL THE FEELINGS. She thought she was over the thoughts she had but they were still fresh in her brain even years later. Leaving Chicago, she made a vow to never come back.

Atlanta was nice, but she knew she that this was not her forever home, when she got into school her sole focus was bettering herself, but in the back of her mind she could not escape the thoughts of Johnny that circulated in her mind. When she saw him in the elevator the thoughts of seeing him again were never in the cards, so she could not believe her eyes when she saw him.

She knew he had questions, but this was not the time for any of that just yet, now that she noticed they were neighbors there was no escaping him, she prayed that they worked opposite hours because if not it would be so awkward.

As she moved the last box into her house, she was ready for the new beginnings, but the fact that she saw Johnny again, made her question everything to begin with, she put her box braids up into her bonnet, she wanted the night to be over, but her mind kept racing about the what ifs and the endless possibilities, as she laid on the bed, she knew that this was her new reality, and she was ready to face the things that life threw in her way.

#johnny suh x black reader #ambw kpop #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh fanfic #kpop black reader #sunflower

18 notes · View notes

whywishesarehorses · 1 year

Text

Two Lives Long Harnessed Together, Until One Could Not Go On

Rush may have been the longest-lived thoroughbred in American history when he died at 39. For three decades, his owner said, “He would fight for me, and I would fight for him.”

A New York Times Article, written by Mike Wilson, published on Nov 22, 2022.

WINDSOR, Conn. — Bridget Eukers paused in the barn, her thoughts seemingly far away, and touched her horse’s halter like an amulet. On the floor just outside his empty stall lay a scattering of yellow chrysanthemums left by a sympathetic friend.

Eukers explained she hadn’t often used the halter on the horse. She and Rush had an understanding.

“I would only really put it on to exercise him because we could go in and out of the barn without it,” she said, her fingers lingering on a strap. “I would just put my hand on his mane and we’d walk in and out.”

It had been just over a week since Rush had died on the concrete floor a few feet from where she stood. Eukers was still grieving, but also celebrating Rush’s extraordinary legacy. He was 39 years and 188 days old when he died, making him perhaps the longest-lived thoroughbred ever in the United States.

The record is hard to pin down. The Jockey Club, the industry’s breed registry, does not keep longevity statistics, so people in horse racing go by word of mouth. The horse thought to be the previous American record-holder was 38 years and 203 days old when he died in 2016, according to the racing publication BloodHorse, which first reported Rush’s death. An Australian thoroughbred lived to be 42, according to Guinness World Records. A typical thoroughbred lives into its late 20s.

Whatever Rush’s rank among senior horses, his death marked the end of a 30-year partnership — Eukers’s word — with horse and owner showing a level of dedication to each other that would be extraordinary for any two beings, equine or human.

“He would fight for me, and I would fight for him,” Eukers said. “Whether it’s your relationship with your horse, with your friends, or with your life partner, that’s what it comes down to. You’ll fight for me, and I’ll fight for you.”

They forged their relationship competing in equestrian events. Six days a week for six years, separated only by a saddle, they honed their skills, moving fluidly together and soaring over obstacles, three feet high at first and then three and a half. For Eukers, being with her horse became a way of life.

She attended college close to home so she could stay near Rush, turned down jobs that would have cut into her time with him, didn’t socialize much and never went on vacation. The longest she ever spent away from Rush was one week, for a school trip.

In return, he gave her joy by carrying her on his back — around show rings and across Windsor’s quilt of farmlands, often at a thundering pace fit for a racetrack. “It really is a special thrill to feel a racing thoroughbred at full speed underneath you. It’s just magic,” she said.

Beyond that, he gave her a purpose, and a measure of peace. The simple routines of feeding Rush, cleaning his stall and giving him medicine made her feel useful and freed her mind. He was a job she loved doing. “It’s one of those Zen things,” Eukers said. “You have that rhythm, and it somehow centers your life.”

Through all of life’s challenges — angst about the prom, hard days at work, dates that didn’t happen, her father’s death — Rush was there for her. Eukers said she occasionally wept into his neck. He actually didn’t love that.

“He would sit and listen,” she said, “but he would get to a certain point that was like, ‘OK Mom, you cried. We’re good. I’m going to go have my hay now.’”

The horse who became known as Rush was foaled in Kentucky on May 4, 1983. He was sold as a yearling for $60,000 ($170,000 today) and registered as Dead Solid Perfect. He ran 16 times and won once, in 1986 at the Meadowlands, according to the horse racing statistics site Equibase, with the Hall of Fame jockey Julie Krone up. After his racing career, he was sold to a new owner and trained in dressage.

Eukers’s parents bought the horse for her when she was in her early teens. Already named Rush, he was a beautiful athlete, Eukers said, with massive shoulders that swayed like a lion’s when he walked. He was also a scaredy cat, unnerved at different times by flowers, squirrels and a mosquito lamp.

“His mission in life at that point was to worry about things and he was really good at it,” Eukers said.

They grew to understand each other. She fed and groomed him and protected him from everyday objects. And when she asked him to clear a fence, he did, even though he was afraid.

“If I asked him to try, he would always try, and he would try and try,” she said. She still keeps the ribbons they won in riding competitions.

Eukers believes Rush’s diet contributed to his longevity. At 30, he indicated that he wanted a change from commercial horse feed. (“He started to tell me: ‘You know what? This just doesn’t work.’”) She began giving him organic meals of alfalfa pellets and whole grains. When the grains were too hard for Rush to chew, she turned them to mush in a slow cooker.

Last week, she still had two bags of bright green hay in the back of her car. It was made for guinea pigs, but Rush liked it.

Eukers stopped riding Rush when he was 35. He was still able to carry her, she said, but she now had a different priority: Her father had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Caring for Rush had to be balanced with researching treatments for her dad and just being with him. When her father died in 2019, she said, Rush was no longer fit to be ridden.

The once-brown horse was now mostly gray. He spent his days at Windsor Hunt Stables under an apple tree, communing with dogs named Wilson and Lola, red-winged blackbirds, wrens, a yellow barn cat and a quarter horse called Cowboy, who stole his hay.

Day after day, Eukers walked Rush up and down the little hill next to the barn, steering him away from the gravel path because the stones hurt his feet. She massaged him with essential oils while he napped. She tied a rope to him and had him trot in a circle around her. She experimented with all kinds of dietary supplements, and Dr. Michael Stewart, Rush’s veterinarian for more than 20 years, gave him steroids to keep him strong.

People would ask Eukers how old Rush was, and when she told them, they would follow up with what she considered an indelicate question: “How long do horses live?”

Last summer, Rush somehow hit his head when he was alone. Eukers could tell by the swelling and his behavior. It took him a long time to recover. He also suffered from an abscess on his left front hoof and persistent breathing difficulties. Amid it all, Cowboy, his companion of 14 years, died at 26, leaving Rush bereft.

About that time, Eukers, who worked in administration for an aerospace company, began receiving frequent texts at work alerting her that Rush was lying down, and she’d have to hurry to help him.

It is fine for horses to lie down, Dr. Stewart said in an interview, but because of the way their digestive systems work, they must get up to survive. Eukers always managed to get Rush back on his feet, often with help, but as time passed she felt less and less comfortable leaving him alone. She began to spend nights in the barn, placing a chair outside Rush’s stall and wrapping herself in horse blankets as she listened to his breathing.

“You and I would be lucky to have somebody care for us like she cared for him,” Dr. Stewart said.

On the night of Nov. 7, Eukers stayed with Rush until late, then went home to get a couple of hours’ sleep in her bed. When she returned at 5:30 a.m., Rush was down, spilling out of his stall onto the cold barn floor. Eukers called her mother, then Dr. Stewart. For hours they worked to get him up, but the cramped space and the slope of the floor worked against them.

In recent years, Eukers said, people often told her that animals can sense when they are dying. He’ll tell you when it’s time, they would say to her. But Rush didn’t do that, she said. Even after she rubbed his forehead and told him, “You’ve done enough, you don’t have to try anymore,” he kept struggling to lift his head and scrabbling to get his feet under him.

Finally, Eukers asked Dr. Stewart if he thought this was the end, and when he said yes, she made her decision. She had fought for Rush as long as she could. She knew that even if they got him up, they would be back here again soon, and Rush would be suffering, and he would try for her again.

#horse #ottb #thoroughbred #horse racing #dead solid perfect #nytimes #horseblr #equestrian #dressage #tw animal death #tw horse death #tw death #long post

93 notes · View notes

woozworld · 20 days

Text

posting the mybeauty iceberg specifically so that icy can get caught up on some mybeauty lore fire might’ve missed

explanations under the cut [tw substance abuse, csa, ed, family death]

tier 1 - you guys should know everything here and if you don’t. tch

tier 2 -

magenta mine: buggie’s hit song after leaving mybeauty. infamously known for having the line “i’d pretend someone’s work was my own too if my voice sounded like the vomit you puke into the toilet after every time we ate”

why charlene likes clowns: her dad was a clown and it sparked a special interest for her. simple as that

neo’s real name: yafir, that’s all

tipsy toms: buggie and minnie’s workplace. just a classic american food chain restaurant

elvis: buggie’s brother that died of lung cancer when she was 17. his death led buggie to run away from her family.

tier 3 -

best new artist: beauty won best new artist in 2022

mommy issues: both emil and charlene’s problems stem from their moms.

dinocon: a convention held by dinos (like furries but for dinosaurs). cole has been to a couple dinocons in his life

jubilee’s fursona: self explanatory

bulimia: a core part of emil’s character is that he is bulimic and has been since he was 14. he has small periods where he’s fine until he relapses again

neo addiction: omg wow speaking of relapse…neo! neo has an alcohol and sleeping pill addiction. he uses his addictions to knock himself out of reality…there’s a point where he does go to rehab in 2018 but once the stuff with emil and co goes on in 2022 he gets back on everything

bloodsuckers: in-universe fantasy/mystery comic turned getflix live-action show. emil and jubilee are big fans

charlene’s stitches: from her gallbladder removal

tier 4-

dead pigeons: a british pop punk band that jubilee likes a lot

jubilee is adopted: self explanatory

fractured pelvis: referring to how emil has a minor fracture in his pelvis due to a car accident

misses madam the musical: a semi-popular musical. malcolm is a part of it. there’s a specific storyline involving him and this musical + emil but i don’t want to take forever explaining it…maybe i will another time

mmood swingz: a group of toxic gen z north florida teens in a band that makes music that no one likes and everyone makes fun of. their lead singer mika is a stan of mybeauty/emil

froot and veggi vs emil: picture this. you’re a pop duo of twin greek sisters with more plastic surgery procedures than years of your life and suddenly a washed up frail chainsmoker tells you that you’re untalented. he then proceeds to have a coked up hissy fit about how you and your sister suck and that back in his day pop music was good. amongst all his ranting you just watch and from being silent you automatically win the fight that he made up for no reason

tier 5 -

cole’s ex: a girl cole used to date in high school before he met jubilee and who is now a model. her name is gia. jubilee gets extremely jealous of gia when she sees cole interacting with her. so jealous in fact that she goes on kidder and bashes her for appearance basically no good reason.

beauty pageants: erin grew up being in multiple beauty pageants. though she never won any. her standards of beauty was shaped through her experience as a pageant girl…

camila: erin and emil’s cousin from their dad side. she’s not very nice to her cousins (nor her parents, uncle, aunt, and grandparents, for that matter) but she still expects them to be there for her when she “needs” it

erased lesbianism: referring to erin getting the lesbian card revoked

yoohoo bunny: a little white bunny mascot that can be found as toys, clothes, bags, pillows, and so much more. emil and bambi love yoohoo bunny

prom queen 2013: the year erin (gasp) won prom queen. she brags about it anytime she gets

tier 6 -

swine: the nickname buggie gave her groomer, monty swineson. a very abusive and controlling man. treated buggie like dirt while trying to convince her that he was the only person who cared for her. overall scum!

papaya fields: think of a site with a fruit in the name and targets trans people. this is the beauty version of that and you can bet your ass they have a dedicated page on emil somewhere

lost music: the earliest music emil and neo made together is completely lost and the idea of it ever being found is very slim

jivin: an editor for indiefools and emil’s future (like very distant future) boyfriend

motorg!rl: an online alias created by neo where he can pretend to be a cute anime girl producing music. he has a league of devoted fans who have no clue who is actually behind the music. if you looked his persona on google images you will get…interested results

jubilee gets drugged: there’s a moment during 2017 mybeauty where they all go drinking and jubilee (who never drank a day in her life and lowkey got pressured by cole to do it) gets drugged. she falsely accuses cole of doing it out of paranoia

drunk meltdown in france: neo gets REALLY fucked up in france + has a fight with dondre and ends up going live on the motorg!rl channel. he reveals his identity and calls all his fans “gross porn addicts”. he then cries for the rest of the live until passing out with the camera still on. this destroyed his online persona immediately

tier 7 -

“i wish i was born a girl” truth or dare: one night the gang is all together hanging out playing truth or dare (but like the one that is a physical game where you get like a truth or dare prompt on the card) and buggie gets a truth card directed at neo that reads “what is your biggest hot take” and everyone is expecting neo to say something silly but neo is already pissed at buggie for something earlierso he hits them with “i wish i was born a girl.” which causes everyone to go “….🥚?” but then neo goes on about how being a woman is easier than being a man and how women don’t seem to understand the privilege they have above guys. it’s basically him generalizing the experience of all women and comparing it to his unique experience as a man and most of it was just neo being bitchy about something buggie said earlier. tldr neo has a misogyny moment because a clown girl pissed him off.

jubilee’s doppleganger friend group: jubilee has a seperate group of friends that can basically be described as off brand mybeauty. their names are emiliano (mili), neya, aaron, and chelsea (cricket). mybeauty meets them and finds them to be very…offputting

medical abuse: referring to medical abuse both neo and emil faced. mainly involving mental health services.

why cole’s dad is in prison (csa tw): he made cp. he would sell stuff with other kids but never uploaded or shared anything with cole included, however, he did take gross pictures without cole’s knowledge back when he had custody. the police raided his house when cole admitted to his 3rd grade teacher that his dad assaulted him just a day prior. cole’s dad also abused his older sister judy before abandoning her, cece, and his ex-wife, but he never laid a finger on cece. cece feels guilt about it constantly

tier 8 -

dondre’s mom cause of death: murdered by his abusive stepdad. in a blind rage dondre grabbed his stepdad’s gun and shot him too. thankfully, he wasnt sentenced/charged due to it being deemed self defense. the memory of that day haunts him forever.

charlene is anti vax:

emil sex tape: i think the name makes it sound like he and neo made a sex tape kim k style but it refers to when emil used to make porn while he was homeless because he had no other form of income. a lot of people found these videos years later and used it to harrass him

neo dated his music teacher (csa/grooming): neo would call it dating but i personalllllyyyyyyyy would just call it grooming. he started doing things with his music teacher after school (some sexual some not) in exchange for good grades (he would’ve been a A+ student in that class without it but his teacher tricked him into thinking that he would fail if they weren’t together). their relationship offically ended when the teacher got fired for something completely unrelated. to this day neo refuses to see it as grooming since he wasn’t “forced” into anything. neo look at me you are a VICTIM.

tier 9 is just jokes nothing serious

#mybooty

5 notes · View notes

falcqns · 7 months

Text

marjorie

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Morgan Stark & Tony Stark

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the more Morgan grows, the more she misses her dad.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of endgame, grief, angst, post endgame

✰ 𝐚/𝐧: tagging @natashasera ! i’ll miss you forever, tony 🫶🏼

don't forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Never be so kind, you forget to be clever

Never be so clever, you forget to be kind

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were talking to me now

When her father first died, Morgan didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why everyone was upset, why everyone was wearing black, why her mom slept on the couch or with her instead of in her bed.

More than anything, Morgan didn’t understand why her dad wasn’t with her. Why he wasn’t downstairs in the morning, making her pancakes, and drinking his green smoothie like he did every morning? Why wasn’t he the one comforting her after a nightmare or when she’s sick? She loved her mother, she truly did, but where did her father go?

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, you're alive in my head

As Morgan grew, she began to understand. She still fully didn’t understand, but she was able to grasp the concept of her father was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. At first, she thought that she did something wrong to make her dad leave, but her mom squashed that immediately.

“Your father didn’t leave because he didn’t love us,” she had said. “He left because he had to. Because it was between his one life, and the life of half of the universe. He died to save us, to make sure you got to live the life he imagined for you.”

And while Morgan understood what her dad did, it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make her any less mad when she saw Nick Fury or Sam Wilson, knowing that it could have been them instead, and that she would still have her dad. It didn’t hurt any less when she addressed father’s day cards to Uncle Happy or her big brother Peter, or even to her mom. It didn’t hurt any less, seeing her classmates and friends with their fathers knowing she’ll never have that.

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, so alive

Although Morgan struggled with this, with knowing she lost her father at such a young age, she didn’t let it show. No one told her she had to be strong for her mother, but when she came downstairs, on May 29th, 2024, and sees her mother holding a picture of her and her father when she was a baby while crying, she wanted to make sure her mom never had to worry about her.

And so, she started to hide the pain she felt, while telling herself it was better this way, this way her mom didn’t have to worry about her.

Never be so polite, you forget your power

Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were listening to me now

And Morgan thought she was doing a good job. She thought that no one could tell, that everyone assumed she had moved passed it.

And for a while, she was doing a good job. She kept her pain to herself. Only cried in the dead of the night or when home alone, or on the day that her father passed.

That all ended, when her junior prom just so happened to fall on October 17th. And then, just like leaves fall from the trees, all those walls she had built up came crashing down around her in a pile.

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

Morgan was getting ready for homecoming, and everything was fine. She put on her dress, had her makeup, hair and nails done, and felt prettier than she had ever felt in her 16 years of life. She put her shoes on, and made her way down the stairs, where her date Ryan, who had also been her best friend since first grade, was waiting for her.

Her mom complimented her, told her how beautiful she was and how much she loved her. Morgan could see the longing just behind the loving gaze in her mothers eyes. The longing for her father to be there, standing with her as she goes off to her first prom. She smiled warmly at her mother, and hugged her for a little longer than she normally would, trying to tell her that everything would be okay; that she had done a great job without him, and that he’d be as proud as she was for raising her as a single parent.

After a few pictures with her mom, Ryan, her brother Peter and her Uncle Happy, Morgan and Ryan were in the back of her moms car, being driven to the winery where prom was taking place.

Morgan was a little sad that her dad wasn’t here for this, but that was something that she had gotten used to. She had gotten used to seeing the empty chair next to her mom at her baseball games, at her dance recitals, at her gym meets. She had gotten used to the empty, untouched spot on the sofa that seemed to taunt her as she opened presents on Christmas and her birthday; and had gotten used to the muffled cries from her mom on those same days.

What she hadn’t gotten used to was seeing everyone else with their fathers, and her not having one. She knew almost everyone else in her grade had dads in some way, but to be faced with it on what was supposed to be a happy night, was really tough for Morgan to deal with. She wanted nothing more than her dad to be the one embarrassing her with her date who was definitely just a friend and who she definitely has not been in love with since 2nd grade, a year after they met. She wanted to hear her dad tell her she was beautiful, that she had made him proud, that while he hated seeing her grow up, he was loving who she was becoming.

But she couldn’t have that. The other girls in her class had that; but she didn’t.

She made it through the pictures by biting her tongue, and avoiding all the other girls in her class, but wasn’t as lucky after dinner had finished and the slower music began to play.

By the time the song “Candle In The Wind” started playing, Morgan felt like she was a house being held together by still-wet glue; one wrong move and she’d be falling apart, letting the entire world what was wrong on the inside.

Ryan convinced her to go dance, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay as the song played on. She just had to hold it together until the end of the song, then she could go to the bathroom, cry a little bit, fix her makeup, and everything would be fine.

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

And then, Elton John sang the words “and i would have liked to have known you, but i was just a kid.” and a tear spilled over. Suddenly, she was powerless to stop them coming, despite her earlier strength. She bowed her head, trying to hide the tears from Ryan, but Ryan had always been able to sense when something was wrong with her.

“Hey,” He whispered, pulling her closer. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She also knew she couldn’t lie to him, so she didn’t. “No,” she whimpered, and Ryan wasted no time in dragging her off the dance floor, and leading her outside. He wrapped her in a hug, and let her cry.

She also knew that Ryan knew what was wrong, which she was grateful for. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed and what she was thinking, which made being his friend 10x easier.

“He’d be proud of you, y’know?” Ryan whispered. “Getting this far, with his last name, and not being expelled.” He joked, and Morgan laughed. “You’re the top of our class in every subject, you have an awesome best friend, and you have a family who supports you no matter what. He’d be so proud.”

Morgan sniffled. “It hurts,” She said. “Seeing our classmates with their dads. Knowing that they have someone they can call dad, someone they can go to for things they can’t go to their moms about. I don’t have that, and I hate it.”

Ryan hugged her tighter. “I know.” He whispered.

“I miss it. I miss it all. All aspects of having a dad. I miss him even though I barely had him.” She continued. “I barely had him, and I barely know him because it hurts to much to learn about him, even though there’s nothing more that I want in this world than to truly know my father.”

Ryan shrugged. “I know. I cant imagine what this feels like, and you have full permission to hit me if this isn’t what is going to help;” he said, prompting a giggle from Morgan. “but maybe, it would help if you did learn about him. If you did talk to your mom, to your brother and uncle, read things about him. It might help you to feel closer to him if you know him.”

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

“Hi dad.” Morgan said, sitting down in front of her fathers headstone. “I’m sorry that I haven’t visited before now,” She began. “I never really had someone to take me before, and I know it’s too hard for Mom, Peter and Uncle Happy to come here. And, it was just too hard for me too. Knowing that you’re here, but that I can see you, or hold your hand. But, I’ve realized that that was just hurting me more, not knowing who you are and not talking to you.”

Morgan took a deep breath, before telling her father all about her life. About her accomplishments, about what she liked, and about Ryan. About how she had loved him for so long but didn’t know how to tell him, and that she wished he was here so that she could know what Ryan might be thinking. She told him that she missed him, and that even though she only had him for 4, they were the best 4 years.

“You were my best four years, Dad.” She said, letting the tear run down her face. “I miss you more and more everyday.”

She stayed a little bit longer, not wanting to leave. But, when the sun started to touch the horizon, she knew it was time to head home. She touched the headstone once more, promising to herself that she would come back more often.

“I love you 3000, Dad. I’ll see you soon.”

She opened the car door, and Ryan smiled at her.

“How was it?” He asked.

Morgan nodded with a smile. “You were right. It did help.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” he teased, making Morgan laugh as they pulled away from the cemetery, heading back home.

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Morgan looked out her window, seeing all of the parents saying goodbye to their children.

It was her freshman year at MIT, and she had never felt so ready; so at peace. She had been given her fathers old dorm. And although he hadn’t set foot in this room for years, it still felt like him, and it calmed her. She would miss her Mom like crazy, but she felt safe, knowing she was following in her fathers footsteps.

Her eyes fell onto her forearm, where she had the words “i love you 3000, my Maguna” in her dads handwriting were inked into her skin. It had been her moms idea on her 18th birthday. he had written it on her 18th birthday card, which he wrote the night before him and the Avengers won. She got it tattooed that very same day, and that small little tattoo had become her lifeline.

It no longer hurt, seeing fathers with their children. She felt a longing, something she knew she always would, but it didn’t break her in two like it once did.

Her eyes moved to her left hand, and she smiled. She knew that the man who had gave her the beautiful diamond ring that sat on her ring finger had a lot to do with that, and she couldn’t be happier.

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

“Hi Dad,” Morgan said, sitting down, trying to be careful of the newborn in her arms, and the scar on her stomach that was still healing. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here last week, this little one decided to make his arrival sooner than planned.” She said, looking down at her son with a smile.

“We named him after you.” She said. “Theodore Anthony Stark. Theo for short.” She smiled. “And yes, Ryan took your last name, we got the paperwork finalized. He wanted us to share a name, but didn’t want me giving up your name, so he took yours. Hope that’s okay.”

Morgan swallowed the lump in her throat. “Ryan was going to be here, but he somehow got suckered into moving some furniture for Mom, and I know for a fact that you had something to do with that.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry you won’t get to see him grow up, but I know you’ll always be looking out for him. And I promise to talk about you as much as possible, and to make sure he knows that had it not been for you, he wouldn’t have existed. Thank you for your sacrifice, Dad. It brought me Ryan, and then Theo. I miss you,” she said.

“I think I’ll miss you forever,” she continued. “But I know you’ll always be with me.”

“I love you 3000, Dad.”

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

I know better

But I still feel you all around

I know better

But you're still around

#natashasera #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #morgan stark fanfiction #morgan stark #tony stark #iron man #iron man fanficfion #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fandom

16 notes · View notes

butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 1 year

Text

In honor of PRIDE, I want to share with you all some words from my mother. Now, my mother is an older lady now, even SHE says so. She's in her 60s, and she's lived through a lot. These days, she's moved down to Florida to care for HER mother and stepfather at the end of their lives.

Here's the important context for you to know about my mother - she is a queer woman, a queer elder if you will, married to her wife, my stepmother, of 15 years. My mother was engaged, very young, to a young man her age. And the week before her Bachelorette party, she came out as queer. Her friends turned the party into a "Tess isn't getting married party" and the young man took the broken engagement shockingly well, but my mother had always liked quiet, polite young men. From then on my mother lived the life of an independent queer youth in the 1980s, living in the Castro in San Francisco. She organized marches, sexual health and safety classes, she sat at bedsides while people died, she lost loved ones and found family whose names she taught me to call out in joy and grief and love on days of memorial, even though I never had the pleasure of meeting them. She ran drag shows, she fought bigots, she ran abortion clinic protection trainings, and she spent her time writing letters to detained peoples and collaborating with mutual aid programs that were led to benefit their families.

My mother struggled with being a mother. Her own intergenerational trauma combined with the unhealed traumas she suffered during her time on the frontlines of a genocide against the people who took her in, her people, the self-conceptualization she was learning to build.... She was able to give me so many of her gifts, but some of them had already been poisoned by her pain. But above anything else, my mother lived and breathed our community. Everything she did, every decision she made, in the back of her mind, she weighed her ability to continue her community building efforts. She "retired" so to speak after marrying her wife, far from believing the work was done, but finally recognizing that she was losing everything in her life that she was doing the work for. Since then, my mother has lived a quiet little working class life with her wife.

So here is what my retired radical queer mom has had to say about the community and PRIDE

Mom: I've had these moments where, where I start to get angry about what people these days are asking for. For example, when you kids were in school it was all about Prom, let us go to Prom too, we should get to have our dates or our clothes like any cis person or heterosexual couple. And my first reaction, of course, is like really? Prom? *That's* what you're worried about, what the fuck is wrong with these kids. But then immediately I check myself, because that's the trauma speaking, right? That's the years and years of blood and guts and the clenching of my heart still just to be able to hold my wife's hand in public, right? Fighting for Prom was the point, BECAUSE it feels outlandish to me, you know, that means you kids are there you're, you're freer than I am. I still wear that chain, you're free of it, and goddamnit if that ain't the point you know?

Me: Yeah, I get what you mean, basically seeing that resistance not as a reaction to the person you're talking to and what they're doing with they're life, but as a shackle that stops you from being free in that way that was put on you by an oppressive system. Or maybe, a door that gets closed in your face and locked by the system ahead of time so that once youenter the building thereare already only certain ideas you're even allowed to consider. Cuz it's not always about you wanting that specific thing for yourself right? Just, the idea that it could be available to people as the standard and it doesn't have to be a big deal in the first place sometimes is or isn't allowed to exist for things. I feel like sometimes the community itself has trouble with that too though, like I remember you telling me this story about a coworker or a friend or someone telling you that you'd have to choose someday in response to your bisexuality, and I've gotten some hilarious and fucked up comments over the years between the bisexuality, the genderqueer, the interracial marriage, the polyamory, the leather....

Mom: Oh, [dismissive sound] there's always been some people who are like that, sure, especially in my context it was bisexuality and leather, oh, people could get so weird about it. But they didn't mind our help so much when everyone was dying and community was all we had. I don't even know how many condoms and dental dams I must've passed out or classes I must've taught..... And then, when the rest of the world started to die, they blamed us! Bisexuals! Not the total lack of care, not the negligence, not letting us all....

Me: I know, Mama.

Mom: [grumpy] I love PRIDE, don't get me wrong, but I just hope all you kids** are keeping up the work and the enthusiasm year round. Or maybe pace yourself so that you can do some things year round and then go all out for PRIDE. I'm just so proud of all of you.

**I regret to inform you that "kids" means anyone under 40. I have tried to change this but in vein.

20 notes · View notes

innytoes · 9 months

Note

Hehehe YouTuber au headcanons?

More Youtuber AU!

-So Carrie is clearly huge in the fashion and beauty and lifestyle spheres. She does brutally honest product reviews with stuff she buys herself (because fuck sponsorships that require you say nice things), makeovers for herself and Reggie into different styles, make-up tips and routines, and every now and then she goes all Rich Youtuber and surprises her subscribers with like, a shopping spree or buying poor kids their prom outfits or whatever.

-Reggie's favourite was the one where she got them both a full historically accurate Renaissance Faire get-up.

-Also of course Dirty Candi has its own channel and they do stuff for that too.

-Very few people link Carrie's cute hype-man and boyfriend Reggie to that video essay channel that goes really, really in depth into Star Wars lore and background details, mostly because he doesn't show his face on that one.

-Some people are like: hey isn't he that tiktok guy who films himself giving dogs at the park the most unhinged compliments. (Insert clip of Reggie telling a Pomeranian she could lead armies and help them win the skeleton war, while she wags and lets him pet her)

-Alex has a reaction channel where he does both shows and movies he's never seen/was never allowed to watch as a child, as well as like tiktok stories and memes. People like his snarky sense of humour. They also love whenever he does something horror, because he insists on watching it with his cute boyfriend, who is 100% not phased by anything and will be like: it's okay babe the werewolf is just tearing that guy apart. Remember, he deserved it, he was rude to that gas station attendant trying to warn them not to go into Werewolf Woods.

-Willie doesn't have a youtube but he does post sick skateboard tricks on tiktok.... sometimes in locations he Should Not Be.

-Flynn has a channel where she makes parody songs and raps. Julie and the guys are sometimes featured.

-They all live together in a big mansion and people are like: OMG IT'S ANOTHER YOUTUBE HYPE HOUSE and Carrie is like: um no, this is my fucking house and the others just live here because else it gets boring and also Reggie is like a sad puppy if he doesn't get to hang out with his friends at least an hour every day.

-Julie as a Sims Youtuber. She started playing a lot after her mom died because you can turn on the Sims and forget about everything and suddenly it's four hours later, and she needed that at the start to just get through the days. She's got a few long-running series that are very popular.

-Julie is the only one going to school because her Tía would murder her if she dropped out of college to become a youtuber. Ray promises her he'll be proud no matter what she does but also he doesn't really understand Youtube and how you can make a living with it. He's very happy to help film on bigger projects or give camera advice to everyone, though.

-Everyone has guest starred on Carlos' ghost hunter show and people keep wondering how the hell he knows all these famous youtubers because he's such a small channel.

-Luke is the guy who is like: COME ON GUYS YOUTUBE ISN'T A VALID CAREER WE NEED TO BE DISCOVERED AS A BAND THE OLD FASHIONED WAY. He's like a cryptid that pops up in the background of everyone's videos. There's special Youtube Compilations of him from across the different channels, and he HATES IT.

#youtuber au #julie and the phantoms #carriexreggie #willex #the only time Luke had fun was when Flynn did a rock parody and he got to actually play #one time carrie did a sportswear review and reggie tried on the leggings and top as well #and let's just say he Broke a Specific Part Of Tumblr with that

19 notes · View notes

histhoughtslately · 13 days

Text

He’s Gone: On Monday, May 2, 2005, my dad passed away. I was 18 then. So much was going on the week he died, I didn’t know if I was coming or going; and then I lost him unexpectedly. We had just celebrated his last birthday the week prior on April 26th.

I can honestly say that I didn’t deal with his death until I was much older. I didn’t feel it back then. I mean, I knew he had died, it was true but I built a shield around me to just get through it. With my mom and littler sister, I felt I needed to be a strong pillar for others the rest against.

In that week, I started a new job on the day he died, had to goto prom that weekend, concert to prepare for with concert choir and it all now seems a blur to me. I remember flashes of scenes in my head. For instance, he had left his pick-up for me that day so I could drive to work after school. Later on that day evening, I get a call at work from my grandmother to come straight home now, but she wouldn’t tell me why. I remember getting home and all of this cars parked in front of my house. I doubled parked in the middle of the street and go to door and I see everyone sobbing. I looked around I saw my sister, I saw my mom, then my grandmother (his mom) was approaching me, so I knew they were accounted for. My grandmother took my hands and looked me and said, “Dad’s gone”. I just stood there and look at her. She asked me if I was okay and all I could say was, “Yes”. I just sat down on the couch and just watched everyone else.

I was out of school for maybe 2 days or so. When I went back, you get stares or everyone asking “How are you?”. Now it was time for me to prepare choir concert. I wasn’t ready and I purposely staggered to class way past the bell ringing. One of my really good friends found me and he checked on me. That was one person didn’t mind hearing from. Cheered and I told him go a head of me, I’ll be right there. When I finally got to the door of the music room, I walked in and looked at everybody and then looked at me. Then there was the loud of rumble of applause, whistles and foot stomping. It was a great feeling.

To wrap this up, feel the moments good and bad. Throughout the years, unresolved feelings and emotions sneak up on you. I understand we all deal with different situations in our own way. But whatever that looks like to you, just remember to feel it, talk about it, journal about it, sing about it, draw and paint about it. You are deserving of a safe haven and safe landing. And a soft haven and soft landing is not always a person.

#theoceanwillholdme #pardonanytypos 💫

2 notes · View notes

zalrb · 9 months

Text

the summer i turned pretty 2x04 review

Honestly, for someone who is meant to push people away and not tell anyone what he's dealing with, Conrad is pretty open about the stuff he's going through. He straight up tells Belly's brother he's having a panic attack and what he can do to help instead of just yelling at him to go the fuck away or something. Idk man.

"Talk about anything" launches into a speech about the beach and how Conrad is the coolest person in the world. The funniest thing about things like this is dialogue about "inconsequential" things would make their bond seem more realistic instead of pointed talks about memories and how cool the other person is. One of the reasons why the gang in T70s works is because they just talk about dumb shit together

"He's grown into quite the asshole" I mean has he, Skye? Your mother is being unnecessarily hostile about the whole thing, it seems like he's just matching her energy idk.

Like this isn't even me being team Conrad or anything because I don't care about him but he hasn't DONE anything for the way everyone talks about him.

Like he's isn't warm when she talks to him in his room but his energy is different because Julia's energy is different.

Jfc they're really trying to make me believe that Taylor and brother dude like each other with how they antagonize each other but this is as performative as Belly trying to be twirly and giddy around Conrad.

Steven. I'm not going to remember that.

"Let's do some drills down by the beach, volleyball camp is in five days." "I haven't touched a ball in months" isn't that why you do the drills, Belly?

"It was hard enough for me to get this one" *laughs* Why is that funny?

Belly actress does the Katie Holmes shrug. It was annoying then, it's annoying now.

"Well we're your family too" even though I kissed you then your brother then made the wake about me because Conrad lay his head on his ex-girlfriend's lap and I admittedly forgot to check up on you when Susannah died because I was too busy focusing on Conrad which consisted of me telling him to stop being sad at prom and then breaking up with him.

The only time Conrad's lack of a facial expression has worked is him looking at Belly when she's all "the magical sea breeze will cool you down"and his face is like that the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

Did Belly tell Conrad her plan of schmoozing Skye and I just forgot it because it's very possible, I'm barely paying attention but if she hadn't, maybe she could. Or is this supposed to show how Belly and Jere are best friends now.

Skye doesn't come across as an introvert, they just come across as kind of an ass. "I don't smile, I don't high five, the corners of my mouth might turn up but I WILL NOT SMILE" we get it, you're cool.

No one on this show is likeable.

Them getting ready to play laser tag is literally the ONLY TIME they seem like friends.

I mean, we had pizza for *Christmas* dinner. OH THE HORROR.

Are whaling boats fancy?

I don't need to see this rock climbing scene. Next.

How many Taylor Swift songs do we NEED in a show. I understand I'm the only one who thinks this.

"It was supremely satisfying watching you wipe the floor with Conrad after everything he put you through" YOU MEAN BEING SAD??

"You used to cry every time you looked at the Tower of Terror" yeah but he's, like, seventeen now, Belly.

"He made it so hard not to love him." I MEAN HOW? BECAUSE HE SPOKE? Jesus Christ.

"Used to love him, I mean" JERE HAS ENTERED THE CHAT. I would appreciate this more if it was fun messy.

LMAO so when Jere is like "And what's the key to making me happy, Belly?" I was like oh OK because there was like a hint of innuendo in his voice, completely unintentional I think, but it was a bit like ooh, I hear that and then it was ENTIRELY ruined when she's like "correcting people who say bru-chetta" and he laughs and goes "Because it's bru-sketta!" and it was SUCH a corny delivery.

Skipping everything with the mom because I do not care.

So who's going to have a breakdown at the end of this episode?

"You're one of the most interesting people I've ever met" I'm laughing because the delivery came across as unintentionally sarcastic.

"Jeremiah is always there when I need him" it's a RIDE. I also love when she flashes back to him always being there for her the first instance is his mother telling him to stay inside with her because she's got a summer cold and him being like "MOM" and her being like "PLEASE" and him being like fine. Like that's not what you think that is. He should hang out with her and then be asked to go to the boardwalk and being like nah I think I'll just stay in with Belly. HOW IS THAT NOT OBVIOUS?

"And when he got sick two days later, I stayed home with him" so then wouldn't you two just be passing the cold back and forth to each other?

Ohhhhh they're looking at each other on this ride and she's feeling how much she likes him! and needs him! and they have NO chemistry!

"It feels weird having fun, like part of me feels guilty" if you were a good actress we would see that conflict in you the entire day but whatever, the show is really bad with showcasing how much Susannah's death is supposed to affect her.

Oh no breakdowns because that would require drama. Just the empty beach house which I know is meant to be a MOMENT but it isn't.

#review

7 notes · View notes

bearsinpotatosacks · 7 months

Text

It Must Be Difficult (Dealing with the Concequences of Your Own Actions) - Whumptober2023

People don't change, time does

Summer was nice in Hawkins, she thought, staring at the blue sky. Not California nice, sandy beaches, surfboards and ice cream. It was vibrant green trees against the cloudless sky, hiking in the woods and barbecues in backyards. Also Steve had a pool, which helped.

Black suited a blue sky and emerald trees. So did the church, brown brick with a full garden of flowers out front. Picturesque and manicured. It was a shame it was for a funeral, and not even for anyone good or pretty. Billy didn’t like flowers, or anything that wasn’t his car, himself or heavy metal. Although now she was wondering if he’d even loved himself.

The ceremony had been insufferable. Stuffy air filled the room and not from the heat. There was an arbitrary picture of Billy next to an open casket, they’d cleaned up his body enough that with a suit, his prom suit, it almost wasn’t like he’d been killed by a monster from another dimension that he’d helped to create.

For day 20 of @whumptober . Also on AO3

Words: 3768

She didn’t know why she was doing this at night, it wasn’t like she’d get in trouble, Neil hadn’t involved her in any of the funeral arrangements, even when he made all the wrong decisions. Billy was going to hate it. It wasn’t exactly all to boost Neil’s ego but it mostly was, make him out to be a loving father who’d lost his only son. Not a dad who regularly beat up his own kid for stepping a toe out of line.

“Are you sure about this?” Lucas asked behind her.

The party were on their bikes, they’d been out all day, trying to forget the horrors they’d seen over the past week. She’d have to go home soon, not that she wanted to. Neil was crying, honest to god crying, like she’d never seen. Her mum was frozen in place working automatically as if nothing had changed, but she could see in the way she moved that she was frozen in shock too.

Max felt sick a lot. Guilt, trauma. The idea that she couldn’t tell anyone how he actually died, Neil just had to live with ‘he saved me and my friends from a mall fire’ and how he went on and on about how he’d been stupid to go in there, they all had. He hadn’t quite stepped over to ‘if you hadn’t gone in there, he wouldn’t be dead’ but she could sense it coming. If she thought the house was tense before, then it definitely was now.

“It’s worth a try, right?” She said, posting the invitation into the letter box and getting back on her bike.

Lucas just shrugged, “My mom says you can stay around again if it helps.”

“So did my mom.” Added Will, El was on the back of his bike, staying with Joyce until further notice.

If there was anyone who was sharing her grief right now, it was her. Although her relationship with Hopper had been much better and less complicated, they still lost people to the same fight, still wondered if they could’ve done better, fought better to save them. She tried to tell herself that she would’ve died but that didn’t seem too bad at the moment, with how much her mum and Neil were arguing.

“And mine.” said Mike.

Dustin nodded. It was great to have such supportive friends, sometimes that house felt claustrophobic, but others it was comforting. It was the only place she really had to feel connected to Billy. His things were there, his camaro had been sold off to someone and they were miles away from California, so it was the only place to go if she wanted to remember and grieve without shame. Sometimes she woke up in his bed of all places.

“Thanks guys but I think I’ll go home,”

“As long as you’re sure,” Lucas added.

She nodded. She’d gotten most of Billy’s things after he’d died, all his music and books and random shit filling up the spaces. They weren’t sure what to do with his clothes. That had made her break down, because she could always keep the music, she actually liked some of the heavier stuff he played, and he didn’t have many books. But his clothes were so uniquely him that didn’t know how she could get rid of them, even if they were of no use to her otherwise.

She just nodded and began to cycle away. She couldn’t look back, she knew she couldn’t because they all looked so worried. Worried about her, worried about the fact that she just sent off that invitation, worried about her going home. They didn’t need to worry, she told herself, she could handle herself.

Neil had cried more. Maybe all of those tears he’d saved up and put out as anger had finally come out in waterfalls. Her mum had stayed still, as per usual when it came to Billy, she wasn’t sure if it was some kind of guilt or relief that he was dead that made her so statue-like but something was making her more and more absent recently, even to her.

They’d sang some hymns that Billy would’ve hated. The Priest talked about forgiveness in the kingdom of heaven and how sometimes god worked in mysterious ways. Yeah, he did, psychic powers, other universes and Lovecraftian monsters were a weird way to work. It was something else that Billy would’ve hated.

Half the people in here barely knew him. There was some of Neil’s family that Billy never talked about, his Nana, his Uncle and some cousins. Some of his ‘friends’ that survived Independence day, Tommy and Carol sat at the back looking uncomfortable. Then there was Max and the Party, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Joyce, even Robin. She didn’t expect them to come with how Billy treated all of them but they’d all insisted on coming for her. She tried to hide how that almost made her cry, she knew that didn’t matter.

They’d buried the body, threw dirt in and watched him get covered up. Any chance she had to try again and connect were gone. Even though she hated him, there was always a chance they could try again and get closer. Now he was dead, there never would be.

The rest of the crowd had either dispersed or were hanging around their cars. There was a small gathering happening at their house, Max would have to go even if it was all fake and the memories of Neil screaming at Billy and throwing him against walls were everywhere.

Steve came up behind her and sat down on the grass. Billy’s headstone, void of any personal notes, was behind them. The party sat scattered around, keeping their distance but close enough that she knew they were there.

“I didn’t know Billy was Catholic.” He said.

She looked up from where she was pulling up pieces of grass and sprinkling them back down again. “Yeah, I think Neil is, or was, and his mom.”

Her dress was getting scratchy now. The humid summer was making everything awful. It wasn’t just the humidity making her uncomfortable, of course, but it was nice to blame something else for once. Nothing supernatural, just annoying.

“I don’t think she showed, though,” she said. “Either that or I got the wrong address.”

“Who’s that then?” Dustin pointed to the lone woman standing near a tree behind them all.

The party followed his point and stared at the woman with long, fluffy blonde hair and a black pantsuit. They knew who it was by the way she stood, the tense way she held her body. Sunglasses covered her eyes, she wondered if she was crying behind them or just felt ashamed.

She knew they’d noticed her. Her body jolted upwards and she turned to go. But Max wasn’t satisfied with that. If she’d walked out on Billy, left him to become a piece of shit with Neil then she could at least give him some closure, or was it her getting closure?

“Hey, are you Billy’s mom?!” She shouted across the graveyard.

She stopped and nodded, turning around to them. After a moment of hesitation, she came closer and took off her sunglasses. That’s when they could really tell who Billy looked like out of her and Neil. It was the eyes, the clear blue piercing through you, going steely with that gaze. Her nose too, that was the same, the way her skin wrinkled around her eyes, her facial structure. Billy was kind of a spit image of her.

“I was a bit surprised when I got the invitation,” she said, she didn’t talk like Billy though, it was too gentle, too sure of herself. “I mean, Indiana? I bet Billy hated it.”

Max huffed and nodded. She’d hated it too before she met her friends. She didn’t think Billy got that far.

“I was a little scared that Neil knew my address, or I guess I should be comforted that he knew and didn’t do anything.”

“I sent the invitation.” Max spat out. “Neil doesn’t know you’re here, I don’t think.”

She stepped back a bit, gulped and collected herself. Was that a wash of relief or a touch of hurt? If it hadn’t have been for Max seeing her name on Billy's birth certificate, and finding her in the yellow pages, then she wouldn’t have even known her own son died.

“And you are?”

“Max, Max Mayfield, Billy’s-” she looked back at the grave. “Step-sister.”

“Oh, you must have really cared about him, to try and find me for his-” She didn’t say the word. It must be difficult dealing with the consequences of your own actions

“That’s debatable.” Was all she said.

Flashes of when he almost drove into her friends, when he grabbed her arm and left her at the arcade. All the times he gave Lucas shit just because of the colour of his skin. When he barrelled in and hit Steve so hard he almost passed out.

Then the time when he showed her how to drive. When he said ‘fuck this’ at a family reunion and took her to get milkshakes instead, when he let her play that mixed tape labelled ‘M’. She’d never been sure if that had been a mixtape for her or someone else, but she did like it.

“Debatable? How?” She stood in the middle of the group now and seemed to shrink under their watchful eyes. “What was he like, now?”

“A piece of shit.” Steve said, not looking at her.

“What?”

“He almost killed me once when we fought, just kept punching-”

“-he targeted me because of who I am-” Came Lucas.

“-he almost ran us over with his car-” That was Mike.

“-he took his anger out on me for a while,” Max added as a final statement to their bundle of explanations.

Again, Billy’s mum seemed taken aback. This time something broke through her steely gaze and reddened the white’s of her eyes. Was this guilt?

“That doesn’t seem anything like the Billy I knew,” she said.

The one you left behind, Max corrected mentally. Instead she opted for, “Well that’s what happens when a kid’s left with an abusive father and no one else, you get angry and take it out on the closest thing to you, so in his case, literally everyone.”

Her hand covered her mouth. “I thought-”

“That he stopped? No, he definitely didn’t.”

She looked down. Away from them and at her hands. Max did feel sorry for her, she’d wanted to run too, run away from Billy’s abuse and Neil’s manipulation, but she knew that without her for Neil to use as a pawn to hurt Billy, her mum would be next. And she knew that her mum could turn a blind eye far too easily than she thought she should, but she was still her mum, she was still someone stuck underneath an asshole’s thumb and she couldn’t abandon her. She’d seen what that had done to Billy, and she didn’t want her mum chewed up and spat out, angry in a world that didn’t have a clue.

That’s what Billy’s mum had done, though. So while she could understand, it didn’t mean she liked what she’d done.

“Neil didn’t just hate you,” Max said. “He was angry and turned to the next thing he could hurt, Billy, and he got hurt and confused and must have guessed that this is how the Hargroves dealt with their emotions, that this is what love was and this is how the world worked, so when I came into his life, I was the next thing he could hurt.”

She didn’t go any further. Everything about Billy was this confusing, conflicted mess deep inside. She wanted him back because of how bad everything was now, because everything seemed peachy in comparison, she wanted to see if he really meant that sorry and if he would change, get out from under Neil and just be himself away from their shitty home.

But there was that other voice that reminded her of what Billy was like the entire time she’d known him. She didn’t entirely believe that if he’d lived, he would’ve changed. What if he’d only apologised because he’d been dying with a dirty conscience? If he’d have lived, all the evidence suggested that he’d be the same, now even more traumatised by being possessed by some monster he didn’t know anything about. They’d had good moments but they’d been few and far between.

“He hurt you?” Billy’s mum was just looking more and more horrified by the second.

“Not for most of the time we knew each other, for most of it he was a super dickish older brother, distant, cold, uncaring, but that was it, you know? It wasn’t until we moved here, in ‘84, that he really turned on me.”

With a deep breath, she asked, “What happened? It must have been something big for him to turn on you and for you to move to California, right?”

She was smart for connecting the two. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. She just hadn’t told anyone the truth, the full truth anyway, of why the Hargrove-Mayfields had moved to Indiana in the first place.

“It was because of your dad, right?” Lucas said. He was the person she’d been the closest to telling, he was a good listener, I guess you had to be when this was your reality, fighting demons.

“Kind of.”

“What do you mean, kind of? That’s what you told us!” Mike added.

“Well people can not tell you things, you know, omit stuff!” She turned to say to him.

Billy’s mum cleared her throat, “Why did you then? Really?”

Max thought back to that night. Her last summer in California. Rays of sunshine, waves crashing on the beach, meeting her friends at the skatepark and occasionally seeing her dad. She would’ve appreciated it more if she’d known it would be her last. Maybe she would’ve done something differently.

“It was the middle of the summer,” She started, everyone now looking at her. Even Billy, she could just tell. “Billy had been more distant than ever, would always be in a rush to get somewhere, anywhere out of the house but never with me. I didn’t care. Any time away from Billy was time well spent in my book, so what if he barely told me when he’d pick me up before speeding off with a wheel spin and speeding fine? It didn’t bother me.”

“Until one day, it was July 11th and I wanted to go to the skatepark, Neil and my mom were at work and he usually got told to do something with me or take me somewhere in the morning but I guessed that that day he just couldn’t be bothered, because he told me to walk and slammed his bedroom door, turned up his music. I was tempted to just steal his car or some of his money as revenge but I ended up calling my dad, we went for milkshakes and he took me to the skatepark instead.”

It was one of the last meaningful times they spent together. All the rest was arguments with her mum, not Neil, never Neil, and letters that got more and more distant.

“And when I got back, Billy wasn’t alone, I didn’t think much of it because it made sense, he wanted to be alone with a girl, big deal, he always wanted to be alone with girls.” She remembered it exactly. While most of her memories of California were terrifyingly fading after the dramatic events of the past year, this one was like a movie seared into her brain. “But he wasn’t with a girl. When I looked through the crack in his door, he was kissing a guy.”

Mumbles of ‘whats’ from her friends rippled. Billy’s mum didn’t budge. She was his mum and probably knew him before he shielded everything below ten plus layers of emotion.

“I was shocked, but didn’t think about what it would mean, I just knew I had ammunition now. So at the dinner table that night, I told Neil that Billy left me on my own to go kissing boys and I spent time with my dad, two things he hated.” She said. “And I expected him to blow up but he didn’t, he told Billy to be a respecting brother and to not do that again.”

“I was disappointed but Billy, he was nothing like I’d seen him before. Still, quiet, wide eyed and terrified. And he was like that for days. Did everything asked of him and more, didn’t make a sound, almost like he was trying to make it so he wouldn’t exist or something. The tension was horrible.”

Tears pricked in her eyes at this part. Like a lot of things lately, all she could think was all the ways she could’ve done things differently, better. Guilt making her throat stick, eyes sting and hands go clammy. She hated it yet was getting used to it all at the same time.

“On that Saturday, though, all the tension came crashing down.”

She wiped her eyes and felt Steve’s hand on her shoulder. Lucas was sitting next to her when she looked to her right. And Billy’s mum’s red stained eyes bore into her back.

“Neil told me and my mom to go to the movies while he and Billy ‘had a talk’. We saw the Karate Kid and got pizza afterwards, I just thought that they were having another fight, they had them all the time, almost every night they were screaming at each other.” She said. “When we got home there was an ambulance outside the house. Billy was being loaded into it and Neil was talking about him getting into a fight with some other kids on a Saturday night.”

She could see the flashing lights now. Hear Neil’s structured panic and the deathly calm underneath. It fooled the paramedics, and the cops, and her too, for a while at least.

“I believed it, Billy got into an argument and got into a fight because he was mad, he did it all the time. But I realised afterwards, seeing his injuries, the fact that they had to glue his skull back together and the bruising on his chest for a few weeks after, that it wasn’t a fight, he and Neil didn’t just have talks. Neil put him in the hospital, Neil decided that there were too many distractions in San Diego and moved us to Hawkins. And Billy blamed me for all of it, so he turned on me.”

This was too much. Seeing her face, being forced to tell her biggest secret because she too felt like this was her fault. Her hands clenched again as she squeezed her eyes shut to fight back tears.

"But if you'd have stayed or taken him with you then Neil wouldn't have treated him like this, so he wouldn't treat me the same, but he did and we never got close and he died protecting me in a-" she took a breath, she couldn’t tell her about the upside down now. "Mall fire before I got the chance to properly talk to him."

She stood up, brushing of Steve and Lucas' comfort. Firey, just like her hair, as she stopped trying to be careful with this woman she'd never known and tell her how it actually was - to an extent.

"So this is all your fault!"

Billy's mum looked taken aback again. She squinted her eyes and tightened her jaw again.

"Why did you invite me, then? If you seem to hate me so much?" She said.

Max looked at Billy's grave. If he was watching this, she'd love to hear what he thought. Although, saying that would probably cause the upside down to make her see ghosts which she didn't want, so she stopped that chain of thought there.

"Because I thought he might like it."

Max turned around. The tears couldn’t be held back now. They flooded her face as she clenched her hands and walked over to Steve's car at the bottom of the bank. Lucas slipped his hand into her’s, stopping her nails from piercing her palms, and smiled.

The rest of the party joined in, all going into their cars but not pulling away as Max found herself alone with Billy’s mum. She didn’t exactly want to leave her alone, she didn’t hate her with her entire heart and soul. It was just the knowledge that if one little thing had gone differently then most of her life would be different. Well, you could say that about anything to be honest, so it didn’t hold much weight.

“There were good times, you know?” She said, not turning around. “When he taught me to drive his car, or took me to the movies instead of making me study.”

“If things were different, he could’ve been the Billy you knew, again, at least a little bit.”

She was silent behind her. Max went to get into Steve’s car, she could see everyone looking through the windows.

“Thank you for sending me that invite.” Was all she said as Max got into the car.

She watched her turn back to Billy’s grave and kneel down, her hand on her mouth. It was weird, this woman who’d missed so much, was grieving more than anyone. Perhaps you could mourn the living after all?

----

If there's one thing that I really appreciated in Stranger Things 4, it was that it showed Max's comflicted feelings, and part of me does know that Vol 2 was solely written by the Duffer Brothers who probably wanted to just make Max hate Billy, but I like to think that she holds both feelings in her heart. Billy was horrible when he was alive but he died before they could've been close, what if he'd gotten a chance to change? And her time before he died seems so much better compared to her life in Season 4 but it's all nostalgia so was it really better? I love it! Also Billy's mum, I basically put all my thoughts on her in here too, she was hurt and ran but she also left her kid behind to become horrible. I tried to foreshadow something for a future Stranger Things fic I've been planning for a while here with Max talking about seeing ghosts because I would love for her to be able to see them as she's died and also is blind so what if she can only see ghosts?

Thanks for reading! @whumptober-archive

#whumptober 2023 #fic #no. 20 #people don't change time does #stranger things #death tw #max mayfield #billy hargrove's mom #lucas sinclair #steve harrington #mike wheeler #will byers #dustin henderson #neil hargrove #billy hargrove #dead billy hargrove #post stranger things 3 #pre stranger things 4 #bear writes

4 notes · View notes