#I got better and offered good things going on in my life and they just.... Stopped

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Show And Tell- Matthew Sturniolo

Summary: When matt takes your virginity and shows you how to make yourself feel better about not being so experienced in the sex world

Warnings: Smut, Inexperienced!sub!reader, Experienced!Dom!Matt, praising, cursing, use of Y/N, Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex (Safe sex is great sex, cause you don’t want that late text that I think I'm late text- Lil Wayne), TW! brief talk of emotionally absent parents!

A/N: i absolutely love writing sweet Matt, but what i love writing more is MATT THE MF MUNCHHHH!!

psa: DONT STEAL MY WORK!! THIS BELONGS TO ME MYSELF AND I!

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Ever since Middle school Nick, Matt, Chris, and I have been inevitable. Their mother, Mary Lou, has always taken me in as her own, considering I was the youngest out of 5 in my family, and my parents had me later in life, as soon as I learned how to care for myself, they quit raising me and only came through in times they ‘needed’ to be parents. Mary Lou was the woman I called my mother. whenever they went on a family vacation I always went with them. To the mall? I went. She basically had Quadruplets. When the triplets moved to LA, we were all over 18, and I was more than ready to leave my parent's house even though I had pretty much moved in with them for how much I stayed over, so I moved with them. I offered to get an apartment close by, but all of them collectively agreed and even argued with me about it, so now we all live in the same house.

Today was pretty much a normal day in the house, very calm, no one was filming, and we just did our own things. Matt and I had no plans, Chris went out shopping with some friends, and Nick had meetings and then dinner plans with Tara for a collab idea which left Matt and I at the house.

“Cant believe that you and my mother BOTH collectively agreed to let me walk out of the house looking like that” Matt said laughing showing me a memory that popped up on his moms Facebook page.

“To be fair you were dead set on wearing that entire outfit and your mom and I both knew we couldn't talk you out of that” I said laughing back and throwing my hands up in defense.

“That's when I dated Cassie too, how gross,” he said giving himself the Ick.

“She was the town whore, what'd you expect,” I say giggling at my comment.

“You know I never asked, whatever happened to Jackson? I just recalled he spread some rumor about him taking your virginity, and a bunch of other stuff, and you came to the house crying and Mom was comforting you and you never spoke about that again” he looks over at me as my head hung low looking at my hands.

Jackson was a guy I ‘dated’ junior year of high school, he took me on one date, it was very nice and he seemed amazing, though I should've listened to Nick when he told me Jackson was no good. After our date instead of taking me home he insisted on talking more and drove to the park in the middle of the city. His intentions were not pure. Jackson tried every which way to get me in the backseat, I rejected many many times that night and made some excuse on how I was on my period and that immediately grossed him out. Come to find out, as soon as we got back to school he spread a rumor around the entire school that he had taken my virginity and told the school I was into weird kinks. I knew I couldn't go to my mother about that because she would have taken me directly to the health clinic to ‘check if I was still pure’ so I went to Mary Lou, i and made sure to tell her to tell the boys not to bring it up to me and try their best to shut it down.

“I uh thought i told you about what happened?” i lied and nervously laughed.

“Nope,” he said popping the ‘p’ “I'm pretty sure I would have remembered something that important to where my own mother had to come to me, Nick, and Chris, and tell us not to talk to you about it, plus I mean it's been 4 years if you don't wanna talk about it I understand,” he said reassuring me.

I've always felt comfortable with all 3 of them, and always had a special relationship with all of them, and trust them with my life. I never went to them about this because I was embarrassed I was a virgin, I wasn't gonna tell them I didn't lose my virginity, considering both Matt and Chris came to me about sex advice I didn't want them to look at me any different for not being experienced enough so I lied and told them that Jackson did take my virginity but I wasn't into the weirder stuff Jackson accused me of.

“Fuck” I mutter under my breath. “Okay so, I just wanna say one thing before I tell you what actually happened between Jackson and me” I look back at him with nerve piercing through my body.

“Y/N, you know you can tell me anything” Matt adjusts himself to face me.

“So don't judge me,” I start taking a deep breath. “So Jackson made up that entire rumor,” I take my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’m extremely confused” he scratched the back of his head laughing.

“God this is embarrassing” I place my head in my hands “fuck it, so he didn't take my virginity at all, and obviously the kink thing was a lie” I look up at him who still has a puzzled look on his face.

“So if Jackson didn't take your virginity then who did? Cause you basically swore off dating after him” he raises his eye brows in confusion.

“No one, Matt, I'm a uh Virgin” I drop my head down in embarrassment fiddling with my fingers.

“No fucking way, you gave both Chris and me AMAZING sex advice, stop fucking with me Y/N/N” he said laughing.

“Matt I'm being for real,” I shoot him an awkward smile “and please the sex advice ain't nothing, I know what I would like so I kinda made an assumption and by the looks of it, I'm guessing it worked” I nervously laughed.

“Holy shit,” his eyes go wide “why haven't you, you know?”

“It's hard for me to trust people, especially with something like that,” I shrugged my shoulders “When I hit puberty, my mother gave me a ‘save yourself till marriage’ talk instead of informing me of my body she scared me from sex, but I had gone to your mom one day when you three were hanging with Nate and she actually gave me that kinda talk and more or less told me to always make sure I felt safe and in the hands of someone I trust, and Jackson did neither of those things” I continue to fiddle with my fingers.

“You trust me right?” he says curiously

“Matt don't be stupid, yes I do” I lightly giggle. “Why is that even a question?”

“ah fuck it, never mind” he brushes it off.

“No, no, I told you something that no one knows so come on speak up,” I lightly push his arm.

“I was gonna say I could teach you a couple things about sex but i ain't too sure you'd be down for that anyway” he shrugged his shoulders turning his body back towards the TV.

“What if I was down?” I look at him through my lashes.

His head jerks in my direction, “actually?” his eyes light up.

“Matt do you know how embarrassing it is to be an almost 21-year-old who's never had sex,” a soft giggle escaped my lips.

“Have you ever like, touched yourself before?” he said slightly cringing at his words.

I was a little taken aback by his curiosity “I mean yeah, once or twice” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Did you like ever finish from that?” he shifts his body back in my direction. “I know this sounds a bit invasive but I promise if you want to do this I have a reason for asking these questions” he placed his hand on my knee.

“No… it just um” I swallow the lump in my throat “I just couldn't..”

“So you've never experienced anything sexual?” the curiosity in his voice makes me feel safer and know he's not judging me and is actually caring enough to ask and not just crawling on top of me and getting down to it.

“Nope,” I say softly

He slowly nods “Do you want to learn?” his voice goes soft.

“H-how?” I stutter out.

“Obviously if you feel comfortable enough with it, I could be the one to show you, If you catch my drift” he sends me a reassuring smile.

“Y-you would take my virginity?” I ask nervously.

“Only if you want me to” his voice trails off

“What about Nick and Chris? God that would be awkward if they walked in or something, oh my god I don't want them to think any-” he cuts me off

“Woah slow down, it's okay, they won't be back till like 9, and it's 4 now, we'll be okay kid” he laughed rubbing soft circles with his thumb over my knee. “Do you want to do this?”

I nod softly. “No this is important to you, I want your verbal consent that this is okay” he moves closer to me.

“Yes, please, I want this, all of this,” I say softly adjusting my body closer to his.

He smiles leaning closer to my face and softly pressing his lips against mine. My eyes fall shut and I turn into jello as I feel the way his hand that was once on my knee moves up toward my hip. A small smile creeps upon both of our lips. I softly pull away.

“Can we not do this on the couch?” I say laughing a little

“Absolutely,” he stands up almost immediately and picks me up bridal style walking into his room and kicking the door open as I giggle like a kid in a candy store.

He carefully sets me down on his blue silk sheets crawls on top of me and presses his lips onto mine once again making a soft groan travel between our lips.

“Can I take this off?” he says softly playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Yes” I bite my bottom lip

He smiles down at me and pulls my shirt off leaving me in my bra. He hooks his finger under my bra strap rubbing his finger up and down just looking down at me. “You're so beautiful. I don't ever tell you much” his comment makes a soft pink shade appear on my cheeks.

He leans down again kissing me and pointing his tongue out for permission to enter, my mouth opens slightly as his tongue explores my mouth, and this time his hands start to grab at my covered breast. “You can take it off, Matt” I giggle between kisses.

He gave me no response but his left hand held my lower back and his right unclasped my bra letting it fall right off my shoulders. He pulled away from kissing me and looked down at my breast in awe. “God you're Fucking beautiful” he mutters.

His mouth begins leaving kisses down from my jawline to my collarbone and stopping at my breast looking up at me through his lashes almost asking for permission without asking. I shoot him a smile and nod and his tongue licks softly across my nipple sending shivers down my spine. He smirks to himself attaching his mouth to one of my nipples and slightly tugging at my other. He sucks and nips at my nipples taking them between his teeth every now and again. My breathing gets heavier at the sensitivity and my head falls back as a soft whimper falls from my mouth.

He lifts his head up and places himself between my legs to unbuckle my shorts, shimmy them down my legs, and throws them with the pile of clothes next to the bed. He admires my choice of underwear today, smirking as they're unironically his favorite color, purple, with a tiny little bow right up top. He hooks his finger at the top of them sliding back and forth before sliding them down my legs leaving me bare beneath him.

“such a pretty fucking pussy” he groans out. he leans his head down and spits down onto my aching pussy. using his thumb he slowly moves up and down.

“Holy fuck” I gasp out.

Matt chuckles and moves his body down where his head is now between my legs. His thumb is still slowly going up and down he begins kissing down my thighs on both sides. “I want you” he places another kiss on my thigh “to tell me” Another kiss “What feels good to you alright?” he places a kiss right above my clit.

“O-okay” I say nervously

“And please don't be afraid to tell me to stop” he gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod sending him the same warm smile. He starts to place a soft kiss on my clit before flattening his tongue on my pussy and licking a stripe up and groaning once the taste of me hits his tongue.

“Oh, Matt” My breathing hitches and I throw my head back in pleasure.

His tongue begins to flick up at a faster pace making moans spill out of my mouth, his eyes are fixated on me and how my body reacts to his mouth pleasuring me.

“Fuck you're so fucking good at this” My fingers run through his hair forcing his head deeper into me.

He moans into me sending vibrations through my body as my hips jerk up and my eyes roll back. His lips attach to my clit sucking on it a little causing a squeal to fall from my mouth.

“Fuck i-i I think I'm gonna cum” I stutter out as an unfamiliar knot forms in the pit of my stomach

“Mhm” he mutters before lifting his head “Let it go sweet girl” he lowers his head again taking my clit between his teeth and flicking upwards on it.

“Oh my FUCK” I scream out when that knot snapped a wave of euphoria pierced my body and my orgasm dripped out of me making Matt move his body to watch it happen.

He wiped his mouth using his arm smiling “you okay baby?” he chuckled.

“Fuck” I breathe out “If that's why people are sex addicts I see why god damn that was amazing” I smiled up at him.

“I'm not even done yet” he smirks lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it across the room.

“Are you 100% positive you want this?” he asks as he stands up removing his belt.

“This is the first decision I've ever made that I'm 100% positive I won't regret,” I say as I watch him remove his pants and free his cock with his tip red and throbbing for attention.

He climbs back and moves me farther up on the bed. “Fuck there's no way that's gonna fit in me, that's fucking massive,” I say as my eyes stare at his cock.

“It'll fit baby” he chuckles “shit I don't have a condom,” he says rummaging through his bedside table.

“I'm on birth control, you don't need one” I smile up at him.

“Are you sure?” he smirks.

“Yes Matt,” I smile batting my lashes up at him.

“Okay then” he brings his hand up to his mouth and spits in it before gliding his now wet hand to coat his aching cock. “I gonna go slow, inch by inch and you tell me when to move, and tell me if it hurts too much I'll stop immediately,” he says aligning his cock with my entrance.

“Okay,” I breathe out.

As his tip slowly enters me I hiss. “Are you okay?” he says with a concerned look on his face.

“I'm okay just hurts” I reply biting my lower lip.

He slowly enters another couple of inches. Watching how my face nuzzled up at the new feeling. Then he slides in another few inches. After a couple of minutes, he's fully bottomed out. “Look at that, you're doing so fucking amazing,” he says adjusting himself closer to my face and brushing loose strands out of my face.

“Y-you can move,” I say nodding slowly.

He smiles before slowly thrusting out and moving towards my hips as the pain I once felt turns into pleasure in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, matt fuck faster please” I plead gripping his biceps for support.

“God you're so fucking tight” his pace speeds up as he lowers his body and begins kissing my neck and groaning into me.

“S-so fucking big” I moan out.

He rolls his hips towards mine and slams them into me. His grunts become harsher. “Fuck” he growled in my ear. “I love the way you feel wrapped around me” he moans in my ear which is almost a whimper.

“Matt” I scream out as his cock finally and repeatedly kisses my G-spot.

“Someone close eh?” he lifts up sadistically grinning at me.

I nod vigorously as my legs begin twitching and shaking around his waist and that knot forms in my stomach for the second time tonight.

“Cum all over my fucking dick baby, I know you can do it,” he said as his thrusts become sloppy.

With just his words that knot snapped in my stomach and formed a white ring around the base of his cock as my cum coats his cock. With a couple more thrusts he nuzzles his head in my neck and paints my walls a shade of white. He slowly pulls out careful not to hurt me.

“Fuck you're amazing” I breath out coming down from my euphoric state.

“Yeah? You did fucking amazing,” he smiles down at me laying next to me and pulling me into a cuddled skin-to-skin hug.

“Thank you matt” I mutter into his chest.

“No problem sweetheart” he kissed the top of my head. “You know I'd do anything for you” he softly whispers making me smile and nuzzle into him more.

“Do you want me to run you a nice bath? Or you wanna go get food? What do you wanna do, cause we got about 2 hours till Nick and Chris come home” he pulls away looking at me.

“We can shower and I can cook for us” I smile at him.

“Perfect” he smiles at me and picks me up bridal style again to carry me to the bathroom.

The way he cared for me, I knew I made the right decision. Losing my virginity to the man I knew I could trust.

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A/N pt 2: TY TO THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS!! BECAUSE THIS WAS VERY FUN TO WRITE!! anyways i hope you guys are having an amazing evening, afternoon, morning, or night!! and i love you guys!! 🩷🩷

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

How badly do you want to win

G!P Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Word count: 5.2k

Description is mostly in the screenshot of the request, so I'm gonna move on to the warnings ;) But also, OMG, I'm so excited about this fic! Thank you, nonnie, for sending this in! I loved it!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, developing relationship, enemies to friends to lovers, G!P Wanda, Oral sex (both giving and receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, cum swallowing, some thigh fucking, shower sex... I think this might be it, but I could also be wrong.

Masterlist with all my works.

Wanda always thought that Natasha was beautiful. The way she wore her hair in a braid, the determined look in her eyes, whenever she played, the way her body moved and her muscles flexed. She was simply gorgeous. Way better than the rest of her team. And she knew it. She wore that confidence as she walked out on the court, when she played, when she practiced. It was that confidence that first captured Wanda’s attention.

It started as competitiveness, of course. Getting in each-other’s faces, a silent challenge and a glare in their eyes as they measured each-other. But there was more underneath that. Perhaps a kind of recognition of a kindred spirit. Or maybe it was the adrenaline and excitement of the game, but they always felt this pull towards each-other.

On her end, Natasha took one look at Wanda and she knew that she had met her match. Someone who could give as good as she got, not only on the court, but in life as well. The brunette had such intensity in her eyes, such passion… And on a closer look, perhaps a little secret too. At first Natasha thought she imagined it, the outline of a bulge in the other girl’s shorts, which seemed a little too loose, compared to everyone elses. But as time passed, Natasha knew it wasn’t just her imagination. Whenever she’d stand in front of Wanda, blocking her teammates from passing the ball to her, their bodies sometimes brushing against each-other, she could feel something there too and the thought excited her so much. Professional rivalry was one thing, but who said they couldn’t be something else outside the court?

Such an idea excited the redhead and as the championship approached, she started to go to some of Wanda’s games, waiting for the match to be over, lurking near the back exit, where the players left, so she could see her. She’d congratulate Wanda on a game well played, she’d sometimes tease her for missed opportunities… Then she started to get bolder, inviting Wanda for a game of pool, or ask her to go have coffee somewhere, offering for them to go out for a drink, just so she could spend more time with the girl.

At first, Wanda thought it was a trick, snappy responses leaving her lips easily. She thought it was some kind of mind game Natasha was playing, so she could distract Wanda, get under her skin perhaps. And at first she avoided the redhead, even if she was curious to spend time with her. But as time passed, Wanda decided that two can play such games and eventually she agreed and that night changed everything.

Wanda had a million ideas about how the night will go, but she certainly never expected to like the girl so much. They had so much in common. Both had competitive siblings and parents with high expectations, both felt the pressure of being the best… Both had that yearning for more than life had given them. So they bonded, mutual understanding growing into respect and a spark of desire that was simply undeniable. It didn’t happen in a day, it grew slowly, day after day.

They made it a tradition, having a day out after a game, talking about their teams and their hopes and dreams, growing much closer than they ever intended, their playful banter turning into flirting and teasing touches. When they couldn’t see each-other, they texted, smiling at their phones whenever they saw a new message from the other girl.  The air felt charged whenever they saw each-other and they brought the best out of the other. Whenever Wanda would see Natasha in the crowd of people during a match, she’d always play a little better, pushing herself to show that she’s the best, that she was deserving of the other girl’s attention. Natasha did the same. Her usual confidence was always cranked up to 11 when Wanda was there to see her play. She’d use more tricks than usual, she’d take more risks, in hopes of impressing her. And it worked. In Wanda’s eyes, she was the most spectacular player she’d ever seen.

For some reason they both agreed to keep it secret. Their teams were considered enemies, both fighting to win the same competition and the rest of the players simply wouldn’t understand. Perhaps very few would understand… But then again, perhaps that was just another thing that brought them closer together.

Then the championship came, the two teams won match after match, getting closer to a game when they would have to play against each-other and their fans were going crazy. All kinds of rumours were flying around, people hyping their favorite team, making banners, posting challenges online… It was almost too much. Their teams were getting eager too, their coaches adding more practice sessions in their schedules, all in the name of winning. But through it all, they had each-other, their connection growing stronger.

The night of the big game, Wanda felt restless. Tomorrow their teams would face each-other and she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus her thoughts, or make up her mind. She felt conflicted. She wanted to win, no she needed to win. But she didn’t want to do it by making Natasha and her team look bad. She was afraid that this game would change everything. That if her team won, she’ll never see Natasha again. But if her team lost, because of her… Her chances of a professional career would be over. Her parents would be disappointed, her team and couch would be devastated. Not to mention that she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Pietro. He already had a contract with one of the best teams in the country. If she didn’t do as well… Then what?

With a huff Wanda got out of her bed and dressed in a rush, silently sneaking out of her dorm and walked the familiar path to the gym, easily finding her way to the basketball court, picking up a ball and bouncing it against the floor aimlessly. She felt lost. But before she could let her thoughts spiral once again, her phone buzzed.

She opened her messages suspiciously, wondering who would text her so late, only to see it was from Natasha.

“I can’t sleep.” It read simply and Wanda smiled.

“Neither can I.” She responded. Then, an idea struck and she turned on the camera on her phone, snapping a quick picture of herself on the court.

She sent it quickly, before she had time to lose her nerve and she waited with bated breath for the other girl’s response.

“Stay there!” Is all she received, before Natasha went offline and Wanda smiled, pocketing her phone.

She played mindlessly, mostly trying to score from different positions and angles, practicing her 3-point shot, until the sound of nearby footsteps stopped her in her tracks and she turned to find Natasha behind her.

“Wanna play?” The redhead said simply, hands in her pockets.

“Why not.” Wanda shrugged, passing the ball to Natasha.

The redhead caught it easily, dribbling lazily as she got onto the court.

“Anxious about tomorrow?” She asked, still not really playing. Wanda only nodded. “So am I.” Natasha admitted with a serious expression, her actions pausing for a moment. Their eyes met briefly and the air suddenly felt charged, when Wanda spoke.

“Will you still be my friend?” Wanda asked suddenly. “If we win…” She clarified, her eyes down.

“Aren’t you cocky, Maximoff? What makes you think you’ll win?” Natasha countered playfully, starting up her dribbling again.

“You think you can take me?” Wanda asked, a challenge in her voice. She wasn’t sure she could win, they never actually played one on one before, but she never liked backing down. And besides, this would get her mind off things at least for a bit. “Let’s find out. Play.”

Their words faded after that, all their focus on the ball. They played with the same competitiveness they always brought to their games, each one leaning on her strengths, scoring again and again. In the end they were evenly matched, Natasha leading by just 1 point, when they fell to the floor, utterly exhausted.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Wanda finally said, when she was able to steady her breathing. She was lying on the floor, too tired to even sit. Natasha was the same, panting next to her in the middle of the court.

She regarded the brunette for a long moment, considering the question, memories shared between them flashing before her eyes. Natasha knew what the stakes were. For the both of them. But somewhere along the line, her priorities had shifted, her goals had changed and she knew that she saw so much more than a friend in Wanda’s eyes.

“Do you want to win?” Natasha asked, intentionally ignoring the question Wanda had asked.

“I’ve always wanted to win. Ever since I was a little girl. I’m just not sure that basketball is what I want to win at.” Wanda admitted. “But I don’t know what to do, who to be, if not this…” She continued sullenly.

“You have excellent grades, Wanda. I’m sure you didn’t just pick literature as your major, because you thought it would be easy…” Natasha pointed out. “So I’ll ask again. Do you want to win?”

“Do you?” Wanda countered, unsure how to answer this question.

“You know what I really want?” Natasha asked, straightening a bit and getting closer to the other girl. “I want to finish college, play basketball, I want to have a girlfriend and real friends, who like me for who I am, not my reputation. I wasn’t genuine relationships with real people…” She started, her eyes burning with passion. “At first, when I met you… All I wanted to do was win. Then I wanted to get to know you. And now that I have… Wanda Maximoff, what I want most is you. The more I got to know you, the more I’ve been wanting you. And tonight? It wasn’t thoughts of the game that kept me up. It was you.” She said as she stroked Wanda’s face, which seemed to grow serene at her words. “I don’t care who wins tomorrow… I want you. And I think…” Natasha paused for a moment, gathering her courage. “I think you want me too.” She said finally, forcing herself to look in Wanda’s eyes.

“I really do.” Wanda nodded, her voice wavering from the intensity of it all.

Hearing that was everything Natasha needed, before she leaned down, kissing the girl in front of her. She did it gently at first, just their lips brushing softly, giving Wanda a chance to catch up. Despite her usual confidence, the redhead felt exposed, felt vulnerable after everything she had said and even with Wanda’s confirmation, she still feared the other girl may push her away. But the brunette did no such thing. Her hand only cupped the back of Natasha’s head, pulling her closer, her mouth opening to let Natasha’s tongue inside.

The redhead took the hint, easily sliding on top of the other girl, straddling her things and leaning down to deepen their kiss, smirking when Wanda moaned from underneath her.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that.” Wanda said suddenly. And she had. She’d thought about it for months now. Pictured what Natasha would be like, pinned underneath her, legs spread wide, taking all of her deep inside…

“As have I.” Natasha whispered in a sultry tone, grinding her hips against the girl underneath her and pulling her from her thoughts. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.” She confessed, leaning down to steal more kisses from Wanda’s lips.

They kissed like this, right there on the floor, until they were both panting, Natasha’s hips moving involuntarily against the brunette in a delicious rhythm that drove them both wild, feeling Wanda’s member harden underneath her, the outline of it impossible to hide now. She looked huge and so fucking ready and it made Natasha go wild with lust. That’s when the redhead started to sneak her hands underneath Wanda’s clothing, lifting the hem of her shirt, so she could trace her sides and the toned muscles of her stomach and smirking devilishly when the other girl moaned at the feeling.

“We shouldn’t do this here.” Wanda tried to object, even if her voice didn’t hold much resolve. She felt uneasy, being undressed in the middle of the court and she didn’t want anyone to see this moment between them. She wanted the other girl all to herself.

“Lockers?” Natasha suggested, happy to go anywhere as long as Wanda kept touching her like that.

“Showers.” Wanda panted, wrapping her arms around Natasha’s waist and getting up with her still in her arms, making her squeal in excitement.

She carried the redhead easily through the court and down the hall, into the locker rooms and then the showers, now dark from disuse. Wanda didn’t even need to look to find the light switch, pressing it, before she continued further inside, depositing Natasha on the edge of the row of sinks and settling between her legs.

Her hands explored the other girl’s body slowly, gliding down her shoulders and back as they kissed, pulling her impossibly closer to herself, their chest pressed together. All time had lost meaning to her. There was only this moment. Now. With Natasha in her arms. And it was heavenly.

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Natasha panted between kisses, taking hold of Wanda’s shirt and pulling it over her head, revealing a sports bra underneath.

The action was enough encouragement for the brunette to start undressing the other girl as well, pulling on her clothes and admiring her breasts, hidden in a lacy bra. God, Natasha was so beautiful. She had such delicious curves, it made Wanda’s mouth water.

Following Wanda’s gaze, Natasha only smirked, reaching back and unclasping her bra, dropping it dramatically and leaving her breasts exposed to the girl’s hungry stare.

“You’re so beautiful.” Wanda whispered, once again pulling Natasha in a heated kiss, her hands cupping the redhead’s breasts and massaging them gently. She rolled her nipples next, eliciting low moans from Natasha’s throat, feeling her fingers bury themselves in her hair, guiding her head down.

Wanda took the hint, eagerly leaning down to suck on Natasha’s erect nipples, swirling her tongue over them, one after the other.

“God, I want you.” Natasha gasped, loosing the last of her patience and pushing the brunette backwords.

Using the momentum, Natasha jumped down from her spot, stalking towards Wanda, before she started to pull on the rest of her clothes, removing her bra swiftly, having only a moment to admire the perfect breasts underneath, before reaching down to take off her shorts.

“Natasha, wait!” Wanda grabbed her wrists suddenly. “I have to tell you something…” She panted, her eyes drifting subconsciously to her member.

“Oh, I know!” Natasha smirked. “I felt it. And I think it’s really hot.” She said with a genuine smile on her face, which seemed to reassure Wanda a little. “But we don’t have to do anything…” Natasha continued, her hands running up and down Wanda’s arms reassuringly.

“I just never…” Wanda shook her head. “I mean… Not that way.” She said, unsure how to clarify what she meant.

She’d been with other girls before. Being the star of the basketball team, she never lacked attention. Girls liked to throw themselves at her all the time, but she never actually gathered the courage to fuck them the way she wanted. She didn’t know how to tell them, so she just never did. She never let them pull down her pants, or make her feel good. But she had plenty of practice, using her fingers and her tongue to make girls cum. Truthfully, she didn’t mind it that much. She loved bringing them pleasure, making them cum… She was good at it too and she knew it. But with Natasha. With her, what she used to do simply didn’t feel enough. She wanted to feel Natasha, wanted to experience her. All of her.

“We don’t have to, Wands.” Natasha shook her head, seemingly understanding. “We don’t have to, I promise. But if you want to… I want you to know that you’ll be safe with me.”

“Are you sure?” The brunette whispered shyly.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to feel you, baby. I want to make you feel so good.” Natasha nodded, her eyes locking with Wanda’s and searching them for any sign of hesitation. “Will you let me make you feel good, honey?” She asked, her eyes attentive.

“Yes.” Wanda whispered eagerly, pulling the other girl in for another heated kiss. “Yes, please.” She gasped, when she felt Natasha’s hot hands on her body again.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Natasha smirked, pulling away just long enough to pull down her sweats and taking her panties with them, dropping the clothing on the floor.

When she was done, she stepped closer to Wanda, giving her a reassuring smile, before she kissed her again, hands gliding over every inch of exposed skin, until she felt the girl relax against her. That’s when she hooked her fingers in Wanda’s shorts, pausing briefly, before she started to pull them down, watching them pool around her ancles and helping the brunette to step out of them.

“You’re gorgeous, Wanda.” Natasha whispered against the girl’s lips. “Will you let me take these off too?” She asked, playing with the waist band of Wanda’s boxers, her hand slipping lower to cup her length.

“Yes. Take it off.” Wanda moaned, head falling back at the way Natasha’s fingers gripped her cock.

Natasha didn’t hesitate for a second, eagerly pulling the last bot of clothing from Wanda’s body, only to reveal her cock. She looked even bigger now, pink and girthy and painfully hard.

“Fuck you’re so big.” Natasha cursed, licking her lips at the sight of it. She doubted she could fit even half of it in her mouth, but she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t want to try.

Before she could make another move though, Wanda pulled her close again, stepping backwards and into the first stall she could find, turning on the water from the shower above as they kissed more.

It didn’t take long for the brunette to find her way down Natasha’s neck, peppering kisses and licking the length of it, before moving down, mouth latching on to one of her breasts again and sucking on the sensitive nipple, while her hands moved even lower, cupping Natasha’s ass and pulling her closer, keeping her waist in a tight hold, while her other hand found its way between Natasha’s legs, fingers running over her folds and feeling the wetness there.

“You’re so wet for me, baby.” Wanda gasped. She’d never felt someone get so wet for her. Natasha was practically dripping.

Before the redhead could respond, she felt Wanda’s fingers probe at her entrance, dragging her slick juices up to her clit and circling it in a slow motion.

“Inside. Wanda, want you inside me now.” Natasha gasped, guiding the other girl’s hand back to her entrance. “Stretch me out for you, baby. Stretch me for that big fucking cock.”

Just the words had Wanda’s cock throbbing and she hurried to do as she was told, her fingers slipping inside Natasha with ease, feeling her walls squeeze them in anticipation. Her lips followed the path of her hands, trailing kisses down Natasha’s belly, before they joined her efforts, eagerly attaching themselves around Natasha’s clit, so her tongue could swerve over it in circles.

“Oh my God!” Natasha gasped, burying her fingers in Wanda’s hair, pulling her closer, hips grinding against her face. “That feels so good.” She managed to say between moans. Her legs were shaking and she had to lean against the tiles just to keep herself upright, refusing to let Wanda go.

She was getting close embarrassingly quickly, but she didn’t care. Wanda’s fingers were curling inside her in just the right way and her tongue was swirling over that spot that made her see stars and it all made her feel so good.

“God, you’re gonna make me cum.” Natasha panted, briefly opening her eyes to see Wanda’s eager ones, staring right back at her.

“Cum for me.” Wanda detached herself just long enough to speak, before she was back at it again.

Natasha felt herself get even closer to the edge, the tidal wave of pleasure rising within her. She was so close. For a brief moment she felt suspended in time, her body riding the edge in the most delicious way possible, before she finally let go, the tidal wave of pleasure finally crashing over her. It felt so good, she could hardly contain the filthy moans that spilled from her lips, her hips grinding against Wanda’s mouth in search of more, wanting to prolong her pleasure, until she had no more left to give.

She sagged against the tiles, a grin forming on her lips as she pulled Wanda up and against herself, trying to catch her breath. She felt kisses on her face and neck, on her shoulders, Wanda’s arms running up and down her body in a soothing manner that made her wish they could have done this in a bed instead.

When she was able to recover, at least slightly, Natasha pulled the other girl for a kiss, tasting herself on her lips and loving it so much. She hadn’t tasted herself before and the filthiness of it excited her even more. But it was Wanda’s hard cock, pressed against her thigh, that finally brought her to reality. She felt so damn hard.

“Oh, honey…” Natasha gasped, hand reaching down to take hold of Wanda’s length, jerking her slowly. “I’ve been neglecting that poor cock…” She said with a trace of fake pity in her voice. “Let me make it up to you.” She suggested, grabbing Wanda and spinning her around, until she landed against the tiles, taking Natasha’s previous spot.

Wanda’s cock throbbed in Natasha’s hand and the girl couldn’t resist any more. She dropped to her knees quickly, her hand still moving up and down in a teasingly slow motion. Damn, that thing looked even bigger up close. But that only made it more enticing for Natasha and she opened her mouth, licking a long line from the base of Wanda’s cock, all the way to her tip. It made the brunette moan so wantonly.

“You make such pretty sounds and I’ve barely touched it.” Natasha said teasingly. “I wonder what you’ll sound like if I do this…” She continued, her eyes glinting with mischief and amusement, when she leaned down again and wrapped her lips around Wanda’s tip, giving it a long, wet kiss.

“Fuck!” Wanda hissed, hands clenching into fists, holding back the urge to grab Natasha by the hair and make her suck it for real.

Natasha did it a few more times, swirling her tongue over Wanda’s cock-head and giving it slow, wet kisses that drove the brunette crazy, before she finally relented, taking more of it in her mouth and sucking lightly, while her hand jerked the rest of it in a steady rhythm.

“Don’t hold back, baby.” Natasha whispered. “Show me what you want.”

And it was all it took, to make Wanda snap, hand flying to Natasha’s hair, holding her in a firm grip as she started to guide her up and down her length. She tried to be gentle with the redhead, pulling back when she felt her tip reaching that soft spot on the back of her throat. Even like this, Natasha’s mouth felt divine. Much better than Wanda’s own hand ever did and she knew she wouldn’t last long.

“Nat… Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” She tried to warn, hands releasing Natasha’s hair, so she could move away, but the girl did no such thing.

“Don’t you dare waste it, baby. I want to taste you.” Natasha said in a low voice, pulling away just long enough to say the words, before her mouth was back on Wanda’s cock, taking it as deep as she could without gaging.

And that’s all it took for Wanda to cum. Curses spilled from her mouth as rope after rope of cum shot from her tip, gathering on Natasha’s awaiting tongue. Nothing had ever felt better than this and Wanda allowed herself to enjoy every second of it, hips stuttering with every new wave of pleasure that she felt.

When she was finally spent, she managed to open her eyes just in time to see Natasha pull away, her lips closing as she swallowed it all down with a grin that made Wanda weak in the knees.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” She panted, her cock starting to harden again at the thought alone.

“What can I say… You taste so damn good.” Natasha smirked and it made Wanda want to wipe that smug smile off her face.

She pulled Natasha in for a kiss then, hands landing on her ass, so she could keep her close, pulling one of the redhead’s hips around her waist and feeling the slick heat of her pussy rub against her cock. Damn, that girl was driving her crazy.

“I want to be inside you.” Wanda whispered between kisses, pausing to look in Natasha’s eyes, making sure that it was ok.

“So take me.” Natasha smiled warmly. “You can do whatever you want to me.” She said, hands gently cupping the other girl’s face.

Their foreheads touched for a moment, eyes closing to savour the intimacy of it. They kissed, lips moving slowly, tongues brushing against each-other in a slow dance as the warm water cascaded down their bodies, until they couldn’t take the anticipation any longer.

Wanda’s hand reached between their bodies then, taking her cock in her hand and giving it a few slow strokes, letting the tip of it rub against Natasha’s wet entrance. She tried to prepare herself for the moment she’d slip inside, but nothing could prepare her for the way Natasha felt around her. She was so warm, her slick walls pulling Wanda in deeper, spasming around her in a way so blissful, she could hardly contain herself.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Wanda gasped, trying to steady her breathing.

“And you’re so damn big, baby. Such a big fucking cock.” Natasha rasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the feeling of being so full.

Wanda waited a moment, letting the redhead adjust to the feeling of her, before her hips started to move. Gently rocking back and forth at first, holding Natasha soothingly in her embrace. Then her pace started to quicken, the feeling of Natasha’s tight pussy too overwhelming to stop.

She flipped them easily, pressing Natasha’s front to the tiles of the shower stall and positioning herself behind her, strong hands taking hold of Natasha’s hips, her cock entering the redhead once again with a deep thrust that had Natasha moaning in pure extasy.

“Fuck! Just like that!” Natasha panted, her mouth opening in a soundless moan as Wanda started to fuck her with deep, steady thrusts. She could feel Wanda’s cock sheathe itself fully inside her with every thrust of the girl’s hips, making her see stars.

“You feel so good.” Wanda panted behind her, head falling on Nat’s shoulder and giving it a few gentle kisses.  

It took everything in Wanda to keep herself from loosing control. She’d never felt anything like this before, she never even dared to imagine it could ever be this good and even though she had orgasmed just minutes before, she was desperate to cum again. She wanted to fill Natasha up with her cum, claim her as her own for good, she wanted to bury herself inside her and never pull out.

With a steadying breath, Wanda pressed herself even closer to Nat’s back, one hand on the wall to steady her, while the other circled Natasha’s hips and found its way between her legs, fingers probing between her folds and finding her clit, so she could play with it in steady circles.

“God, Wanda!” The redhead panted, pressing herself into Wanda’s warm body. She was getting close and she wanted to come surrounded by Wanda in every way. “Fuck, I’m close. Don’t stop, please.” She almost mewled, desperate to reach her high.

“I’ve got you, Nat.” The brunette whispered softly. “I’ve got you and I won’t let you go.” She promised. “Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how good I’m making you feel.” She encouraged, even if she was dangerously close to letting go herself.

With a cry and a harsh thrust from Wanda’s hips, Natasha came, hands flying to keep the brunette from moving, wanting to feel every inch of her cock buried deep inside her as she felt the best orgasm of her life. Her walls spasming around Wanda’s cock as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. She could feel the pleasure of it spread over her entire body, making her feel almost weightless and she braced herself on the wall.

When she was done, she almost whined at the feeling of Wanda pulling out and she guided the girl closer to herself again, placing her cock between her thighs, letting her length rub against her sensitive pussy, as she started to move back and forth.

“Nat! Baby, I’m gonna cum!” Wanda warned, both her hands now braced on the tiles, while Natasha milked her cock between her thighs.

“Go ahead.” Natasha panted, movements speeding up.

In just a few seconds Wanda let go, spurts of white shooting out of her cock and smearing over Natasha’s thighs and between her legs, painting her skin in sticky cum.

When it was over, they both chuckled, looking at each-other with excitement and tender love. They embraced gently, letting the warm water wash their bodies as the stood there in peaceful bliss.

“I don’t care about what happens tomorrow.” Natasha finally spoke. “I only care about you.”

“You know… I don’t even know why I play anymore… I guess it’s just what people expect of me…” Wanda admitted. “My parents, my brother, my coach, my team… That’s what they all want from me.”

“I fucking hate your team.” Natasha said, pulling Wanda even closer. “But I love you, Wands. So, whatever happens, I want you to know that you have me. And I support you, ok? If you want to play, I’ll practice with you every day. And if you want to quit and do something with that literature major then, I’ll be there too. You have me. Some stupid game is never gonna change that.”

“You love me?” Wanda asked, pulling her head away from Natasha’s chest, so she could look at her.

“That’s what you took from that whole speech?” Natasha pushed Wanda playfully, only to have the brunette snuggle back into her.

“I love you too.” Wanda said, as she nestled her head in the crook of Natasha’s neck, knowing that whatever happened tomorrow, everything was going to be all right.

[formosusiniquis]

have your cake

So way back in August 2023 the steddiemicrofic challenge was Cake and 311 words, my head empty brain came up with one thought and it was Steve Munson having a bakery called Mun's Buns and so many months later I finally got around to finishing my vision

Ships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins; implied/past Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington/Carol Perkins WC: 6408 | T | tags: Future Fic, the lightest of post homoerotic friendship breakup angst, fluff, Tommy POV AO3

The bakery has a stupid name, is the first thing Tommy thinks when Carol tells him where he's supposed to meet her on his lunch break. He’s still thinking that, when he sees the place for the first time through his rain speckled windshield. It's a modest storefront, small for what Carol says is a booming business, tucked in next to a used bookstore and a music shop. There's a baby yellow awning hanging from the front just underneath a sign lettered in soft blue that reads Mun's Buns.

He's late, is the second thing he thinks after pulling up. Caught up in some stupid bullshit for his dad he hadn't managed to slip away until 12:30. Even then it had only been because Tommy had told him he was going to be late for their cake tasting. He'd rolled his eyes when his father and Greg, a guy that Tommy only considers a co-worker in the sense that they are technically on the same payroll since Greg in every other aspect is incompetent and an idiot, had winced. Shooing him away like a kid who'd just admitted that he's already twenty minutes past curfew. But catching sight of the way Carol has her arms crossed, tapping her foot fast enough to kickstart a motor, while her hair hangs limp in a way that it hadn’t this morning a third thought crosses his mind: maybe he should have been a little more worried.

Waiting isn’t going to make things any better. So he steps out of the car, let’s the misty damp cling to him in a way that makes his dress pants and button down feel like a poorly tailored second skin, and takes his licks like a man. "Late, thirty minutes late. Christ, it's the only thing I've asked from you Tommy." Her right hook stings just as badly as it did sophomore year when she punched him for asking out Erin Murphy instead of her.

Shit like that is probably why no one expected them to make it this long or this far.

When they went away to college; different schools, hours apart. His parents had been gleeful as they'd warned him that high school relationships didn't always last. That he should keep his options open, he didn't want to miss out on the love of his life just because of comfort. He didn't get offered the family ring when he decided to propose right after graduation. Carol has always been particular. Wanted the house to come back to before the wedding could happen, wanted a long honeymoon. That meant saving, a lot of it. Tommy knew and Carol did too, they'd overheard his mother and aunt gossiping in too loud voices after too much wine that they hoped the long engagement meant they were both trying to figure out a good way to break it off with one another. 

Still, over the course of their now five year engagement no one's asked once if they wanted to trade for it.

Carol thought it was horrendous anyway. She’d had her ring picked out since ‘85, styled her class ring so it would look like the oval cut diamond she wanted. Had him slide it on her finger the second it came in.

Cause in the politest of terms, Carol could be a raging bitch. She was Tommy's favorite person in the entire world.

There’s going to be a bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, even if she’s guiltily smoothing a hand down his arm now. Thrust toward the door first in offering, Carol is sorry she hit him but she’s not apologetic. “I’m serious, Tom, if we lose this appointment and have to go with Sweet Treats for our cake I'll- I'll-"

Whatever threat she was preparing is drowned out and then cut off by the echoing TONG of the door chime. A light in the back shifts color for a second, out of place enough that he wonders if he even really saw it. Head tilting toward Carol, his question catches in his throat when he notices her pinched off appraising. Better not to add to the ammunition she might already be building.

And if Carol is looking he better do it too. She'll want to debrief when they're having dinner tonight, just like they did with the florist, the caterer, the three wedding planners they'd met with, and each of the venues that they'd visited. And it wasnt because she was demanding, fuck you Greg. It wasn't because she was being nitpick-y, alright it was a little bit because she was but he liked being particular with her. He liked being involved in his wedding.

So he looked around.

The way they utilized their space -- a building that big and there's barely enough room to stand, we want someone who knows how to work with limited space for the venues we're looking at -- was the reason their first wedding planner hadn't gotten hired. Small, but not cramped. There are a handful of tables scattered in the open space in front of the counter. It’s the kind of small town cozy that Hawkins had tried for and he doesn’t see very often anymore now that they’ve moved out to Indianapolis.

It’s lunchtime, still too early for people to be seeking out the rows of deserts in their neat glass counter and too late for the breakfast crowd. But one of the tables is occupied by a teenager with long, black braids scribbling in a notebook while a slice of ice cream cake melts on a plate by her elbow. 

Everything was neat, organized, and compliant with health code regulations -- they hadn’t even made it in the door of the first caterer’s when she noticed a trail of ants and roaches marching into the open kitchen door.

Carol had always been quick when she was making up her mind about something. Like those Sherlock Holmes stories they’d had to read in school, in a couple of seconds she could spot everything she needed to make a decision. After a decade Tommy still couldn’t keep up; but he was always best at following someone else’s lead.

The smile she’s got frosted across her face is as sugary and fake as the roses on the cupcakes he can see behind the low topped counters as she approaches the only visible staff member. A girl, young in the way that nebulous way anyone younger than him was now, with thick squared glasses that magnified two distressingly blue eyes. The counters looked like they were designed to sit low enough that she could easily see over the top while in her wheelchair.

“Welcome to,” her customer service tone borders on bored. Two words into a clear script and she sighs, as if saying the name physically pains her, “Mun’s Buns. We’ve got a special series of summer flavors: Strawberry Lemonade, Lavender Mint, Chocolate Fudgsicle, and,” she sighs again, “for the grownups a boozy Blue Moon with orange zest.”

“How about a wedding cake.” He’s impressed. Carol made it through the speech without interrupting.

“Do you have an appointment?” the girl raises her voice, enough to make them both flinch back. Customer service isn’t a requirement for this part of the job necessarily, but Carol had bailed on two venues because the staff hadn’t been polite enough.

Her smile doesn’t crack though, “Yes.”

Even though he’s pretty sure this girl has to be basically blind with the inch thick frames, she levels Carol with a lethal stare. “Not you.”

From the open entryway behind her Tommy had been able to make out what sounded like the highlights of yesterday’s game. He assumed that space had to be the kitchen where these rows of deserts were made. He’s still surprised when a guy’s voice is shouting back, “I don't know, Max, do I? Why don't you check?”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Max shouts back, glowering at then in stand in for her mystery boss.

“With your finger, asshole. It's in braille. When I gave you this job you said you were actually gonna work.”

“Douchebag." Her eyes never leave them, while her hands rummage around in a space beneath the counter where the cash register sits. Max offers no explanation or apology for her shouting or for her boss. A large red appointment book gets slammed down on the nearest counter, making Carol jump but the neat two by twos of chocolate frosted cupcakes don't budge. He watches, a little fascinated by the way her finger scans the page before slowing. "Did you write this or did Dustin?"

Carol has always valued gossip over professionalism, he thinks that’s why she’s done so well as a hairdresser even though she was always awful at chemistry. It’s also why he’s held off from pointing out that they could solve this a lot faster if this guy would come out from the back. "Why?" 

“Cause one of you can't spell and one of you is trying to invent braille shorthand. So I'm not really sure what to do with TomGan Wed.”

“It might be Thomas and Wedding.” Carol leans over the appointment book as she says it, using a tone of voice he has never once heard her use in the entire time he’s known her. He thinks it’s supposed to be helpful.

“Wedding sampler.” The girl calls toward the back, “It's getting late.”

“I’ve got it,” the voice from the back shouts back.There’s an effortless assurance Tommy can hear from where he’s standing. It hits him with a wave of nostalgia so strong he grabs Carol’s arm on instinct.

“Really,” she says, cutting her gaze over to him. He’s not sure what she sees. “If we could hurry this along, it's just we've only got an hour.”

“You're late.” The glare she gets shuts Carol down faster than he’s ever seen.

“Right.”

“Okay I've got it.” The voice from the back is now the voice in the doorway. Hidden for a second by a serving tray loaded with samples of rich looking cake, it’s the first time since arriving that Tommy has actually wanted to be here. Not just because he can make out strong shoulders and a body of a man that’s still very fit but clearly enjoys his work too; the hint of love handles above strong thighs. Only then that tray dips, and for the first time since 1985 Tommy finds himself looking at the shocked hazel eyes of Steve Harrington. “Oh.”

Carol reacts for him, taking in a breath sharp enough she might puncture a lung. They’ll both wind up suffocated on the floor of this stupid bakery with an awful name, because Tommy can’t manage to breathe at all looking at Steve. Still unfairly handsome, faintly pink at the shock of seeing them too he imagined.

His hair is long, is the first real thought his half fried brain manages to put together. Soft looking even where it’s damp at the temples where sweat has pooled. He has it pulled back with a couple of the same butterfly clips that Carol likes to use.

His second, somehow more hysterical thought: this wasn’t how Steve Harrington was supposed to be included in his wedding.

Tommy was six years old and knew he wanted to marry Steve. When he’d told his mom -- to ask for her ring, Steve thought it was romantic like princes and princesses that they had a special ring that they got married with -- she’d grabbed by his arm so hard it’d left finger shaped bruises. So he’d held that certainty quiet in his heart until he was ten, and suddenly it was okay to want to play with girls on the playground -- he thinks it’s because Steve got tired of there never being an even number when they tried to play kickball, he had a way of making everyone want to do the thing he was. Carol wasn’t afraid to tell Tommy C. that he was dumb or to tell Mark L. that he hadn’t actually made it to the base, Steve liked her fast. Too fast, and Tommy had to tell her that one day he was going to be able to keep Steve all to himself. But he knew that it wasn’t right to say that now, even if he wasn’t all the way sure why it wasn’t. He was ten, but he would be eleven soon, and he took this part of him that he’d kept secret for so long and he whispered it to Carol under the slide while Steve tried to convince Brad P. that he could too pick two people for his kickball team first.

He was ten and Carol said they could share. Boys can’t marry boys, but girls can. So they could both marry her and live together forever.

It became a joke when they finally shared it with Steve, thirteen and boys going out with girls wasn’t funny the way it used to be. Sarah Jane asked Carol if she had a chance at going steady with Steve. She told Tommy about it later and they both told Steve that he was too good to date any of the girls in their grade. “Well I’ve got you guys,” his voice cracked when he said it, throwing an arm around both of them. Carol didn’t care as much, but even she’d noticed the way Steve was changing from boyish to handsome.

They were sixteen and disaster was just around the corner, not that he knew that. Steve dated around but he always came back to them. The head, the heart, the body. They don’t feel complete without each other -- at least Tommy doesn’t. Mr. Kripke, who was hungover more often than he wasn't, passed out ten minutes into study hall. Carol didn’t even wait to see if he’d wake back up before she left her assigned table for theirs. She smoothed out a lined piece of notebook paper for them, and Tommy scoffed like he was supposed to. “Aren’t we a little old to be playing MASH?”

“It’s dirty MASH, and I thought you’d think it was funny.”

“I think it’s funny,” Steve had said, “that you’re getting eiffel towered on your wedding night. Who else is joining in, Carrie?”

“We couldn’t agree on who got you for their side of the aisle. So we’re taking you to bed instead.”

He was sixteen and the way that the two of them looked when they shared a joke was the hottest thing in the world. The way their smiles mirror when they turned to him, sharp and ready to flay open the softest parts of him.

Tommy’s two days older when Steve lets him kiss the taste of Carol out of his mouth.

It was three days after he turned seventeen and he had to pretend he didn't want to die when he saw how Steve looked at Nancy Wheeler. Like he didn’t want to rip his hair out because Steve was fucking infatuated with this mousy little teacher’s pet and wouldn’t even look at him anymore.

He still doesn’t like to think about the breakup. He pokes it like a fresh bruise. Less often now, but when he does he digs his fingers in. Baits Carol into fights he doesn’t mean just so he can pretend like he hasn’t lost something that hurts like a limb.

Steve Harrington turns twenty-eight next week, and he’s standing in front of them both holding pieces of what might turn into their wedding cake.

“Wow I can’t believe you’re in Indy!” False excitement grates, but at least Carol has gotten herself together enough to speak. He thought he’d have at least another few months to prepare for the thought of seeing Steve, by their ten year reunion he was going to be married and happy and over it.

“Yeah, this is- Married, wow! I kinda can’t believe you haven’t already.” He says it to Carol, his platitudes had always been for Carol, but his eyes find Tommy. 

While Carol chatters at them and for them both, nervous, he knows she’s nervous. The situation is sudden and strange and fraught. But Tommy just looks at Steve, who looks at him. He’s getting married in three months, one week, and two days from now and for the first time in eleven years Steve is looking at him.

"Takes a while to save up for when you want the best of everything. Dad's still the skinflint he always was, I think he'd pay me less than minimum wage if he could get away with it."

And those soft brown eyes look so sad, looking at him. Sometimes he thinks no one will ever understand him the way that Steve did.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting the best, or having a long engagement." Carol defends. It's the same line she's been giving everyone. Defensive of him and herself and the choices they've been making. He can't believe Steve is someone she thinks they have to defend against.

“I really hope you're happy, man," he says, and the sincerity is a balm on the sting of this conversation. He pushes his hair back from his face, the way he always has when he's uncomfortable and trying not to make it obvious. And there's a fresh new hurt when Tommy catches sight of a plain gold band on Steve's finger, shining bright between the golden highlights of his hair.

“I’m happy about this,” he can say honestly. Carol is one of the only things he’s ever been sure about. She held him steady as she could when his other sure thing left him with a cracked foundation in a convenience store parking lot. “What about you? How long after meeting the future Mrs. Harrington did you wait to put a ring on her finger?”

“Tommy,” Carol chides as the teen in the corner snorts. To anyone else it would sound like a reprimand for being nosy, he, and he suspects Steve, knows she’s telling him to stop worrying a scab that has no hope of healing right.

Married and they didn’t know. Wouldn’t have found out until the reunion. It’s not like he expected an invitation, maybe an engagement announcement sent to their parents’ houses. They’d sent one to Loch Nora when the real ring had finally made it to Carrie’s finger. It was equal parts olive branch and offering. They’d gotten it back return to sender with no forwarding address.

The bell above the door tongs again, loud enough to make Carol jump. The platter of cakes doesn't shift at all in Steve’s hand. His arm shows no sign of fatigue. It’s almost distracting enough that he misses the obvious. The bell signals someone is coming into the store.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. I know I said I wasn't gonna be late but Mike…” There just inside the door is the Freak. Undeniable even with his head down as he digs through his shoulder bag. From the riot of poorly maintained tangles that still hang around his shoulders to the expanded mess of tacky ink on his arms. The only thing that’s changed is the age in his face and the band on his shirt.

“Munson?” Carol has the reflexes and the personal grace to address him first. Shock more than the disgust it might have been when they were still kids.

Tommy feels like a kid still. Looks to Steve in an instinct he’d thought he’d stamped out years ago, only to be met with wide eyes and teeth grit tight enough to draw out the square line of his jaw.

“Christ, I still get nightmares that start like this.” Munson says, eye darting between the three of them. “Max, am I naked?”

“Don't know, don't wanna know.”

“I thought you'd be able to tell by the energy in the room.” He wiggles his fingers, still bedecked in silver, like they can divine the vibrations or some witchy shit.

That’s enough to make Steve break just a little. A soft, exhaling scoff before he finally starts to move out from the counter. Tommy catches, and he doubts Carol misses it either, how Steve passes the closer tables to set his tray down between them and Munson.

“I can tell I don't want to be here for this.” Their redheaded audience member says, “I'm taking my 15.”

“Don't go harass Mike, he's finally working,” Munson says.

“Will and El are on shift on the other side,” Steve calls out, not looking at any of them as he moves cakes from his tray to the table. A deliberate selection he seems to be making.

“Whatever, I’m gonna call Lucas and break up with him so he can play better or whatever.”

“Don’t be too harsh,” Munson calls out, “I’ve only got him on a five point spread.”

If Carol’s nails break from how hard they’re digging into his arm, somehow it’ll be Tommy’s fault. Not the fact that they’ve advanced the worst part of their ten year reunion by months, and also Munson is here and knows shit about basketball.

“Sorry, think my hearing’s going, sounded like you said you want him to lose and he’s getting kicked from the next one shot. I’ll let him know.”

“She gets that from you,” Steve and Munson say in sync. Glaring playfully at one another the way Steve used to with Carol.

“I’ll tell Robin you were-”

“Do not sick Buckley on me, Max made the deaf joke not me.”

“Weird, that’s not what I heard.” Steve has always claimed his hair as his best feature. It isn’t -- Carrie liked his eyes, Tommy his hands -- but it’s hard to deny that it doesn’t look good, flipping over his shoulder. His smile is private, just for Munson, soft the way he got whenever he picked up a new girl. Carrie taps the back of his hand, two sharp smacks, their signal for years that he needed to pay attention and notice something she had. Wide, nervous eyes dart to Steve -- like he hadn’t already been looking at Steve -- so he does his best to assess the way Carol would.

Jealous, viciously, Steve had been theirs in every way that mattered since they were ten years old and Carol had never liked sharing her toys with anyone but them. She watched his face for any sign of unhappiness anytime a new girlfriend came along, and when she found one she passed it along to him. So he could pick and joke until Steve was all theirs again.

So he checked the face. Tried to ignore the way Steve was lit up from the inside out with a joy he could barely remember, and then he saw the hearing aid.

He tapped back, three times. O.M.G.

“The 1985 Homecoming court here to reveal that this has all been a long con, Stevie?”

“Yeah I faked the name change paperwork and picked up a fake ID, sorry I took my business somewhere else.” Steve says it with the sincerity he’s always made those kind of jokes with, his strange sense of humor never coming across when he always sounded so serious. 

Munson gets it though, snorts loud and ugly, before a smile pulls wide across half his face the otherside taught with a gnarly scar. “Now I know why my fake ID business went belly up when we got to the city, not like I only sold three in high school.”  He gestures to the three of them in a wide arc.

Sophomores, they had decided it was time to throw their first real party now that Steve’s parents had moved out of Hawkins in all but name. Steve was a latchkey kid of new proportions and took to self sufficiency in a way that had seemed adult to him then; and in hindsight looked more like a child fighting for his life. Steve bragged how he’d been saving up the weekly checks they’d sent to ‘sustain him’ while they worked in the city during the week. His contribution to Tommy and Carol’s vague plan to throw a kegger by the pool. When they’d floundered, immediately, with the hows, Steve had been the one to suggest going to Munson.

“Love this preview of the reunion,” Carol cuts in, there’s no bite but Munson bristles anyway like she’s being rude for reminding them that there are customers present. “Steve?”

It’s funny, Tommy thinks, the way Steve still straightens his back at Carol’s tone. All this time and he can’t fight the old ingrained instincts either.

“Dustin made the appointment,” Steve apologizes, even as he’s posture perfect and preparing his pastries. The unsaid, ‘I definitely wouldn’t have’ doesn’t go unheard and it doesn’t sting any less even this far from their last interaction.

“Munson could join us,” Tommy offers, a new olive branch since their last one was never seen. Even if it does raise three sets of brows and makes Carrie’s nervous smile tighten even more in the corner of her mouth.

“Well at least one of us has to,” Munson, Eddie, says. Just says, tone like it was meant to be something said under his breath.

He's grown up a lot since high school, they both have. Still, he's only got twenty minutes left on his lunch break and it's been a long day. "God, is that why it's called that?" Growth, he doesn't say that Steve Munson sounds a lot dumber than Steve Harrington.

"It's charming," Carol and Steve both say. Though Carrie is definitely lying and Steve barely gets it out from between his gritted teeth, a sore spot. He's always been good at finding Steve's bruises.

"It's charming," Tommy agrees, like he always did when he was out voted.

Eddie has a smirk spread across his face and a ‘too proud of himself’ look in his eyes. Mouth open to make some quip that Tommy is going to pretend is funny, for Steve’s sake. Now that they’re here, he’s going to do something to show that they could talk to one another again. Steve clicks his tongue, taps his index and middle finger down to his thumb two quick times before he can.

He turns to the girl in the corner, "Erica, scram, go help Robin and the kids with the new donation that just came in."

The teen continues to scribble in the notebook in front of her, bulky headphones over her ears, she makes no sign that Tommy can see that she's heard Steve speak. "Erica, go, or I'll tell your mother you moved out of the dorms. You're 20, it's not child labor, and you've got a timecard."

She sighs and wordlessly packs up her things, she gives Steve a scathing look that takes Tommy back to high school. The withering eyebrow and rolled eyes would have been just at home on Steve’s own face in 1985, but she marches behind the counter, the sound of her dish rattling in the sink before she disappears out the same door that the redhead had gone out.

Now that the room has been cleared, an awkward silence has found the space to squeeze in. Munson, the original, still standing in the doorway and Steve standing between his unlawfully wedded husband and the two people who had lost their chance at him years ago.

The wedding and the reunion both on the horizon had dredged up a nostalgia that Tommy and Carol had been dealing with in their own ways. Dredging up old yearbooks, Carol had found a shoebox of old notes that she’d kept. Conversations written in three different inks by three different hands, nonsensical after all this time. Tommy woke up from dreams that he hadn’t had in years. Always of Steve and Carol, a study in opposites, but similar where it mattered.

“Well,” Steve says, taking charge of the situation like he always would when the other two faltered, “you’re here for a reason. We might as well get started on it.”

Steve’s fingerprints are still on them, just like he’d noticed theirs on him, molded as they were together. They’ve always bowed to his expectations, and his whims. When he ushers them to the table with a spread hand, Tommy and Carol go where they’re beckoned.

And so does Munson.

They keep an empty chair between them, an artificial divide for Tommy’s sanity, but with the sprawl of Munson’s legs their knees still occasionally brush together. Carol had taken the spot closest to Steve, who has stayed standing. He is their gracious host, marking the head of the round table.

“I pulled out the full sampler before I realized it was you,” Steve says. Even with as off balance as the interaction has felt, Tommy doesn’t feel his hackles raising. While it’s possible he’s gotten more subtle with his digs, Steve’s vicious tongue was usually unmistakable. “I can tell you about as many of them as you want though if you want to pretend like we don’t already know what I’ll be making you. I’m sure neither of you have eaten lunch yet.”

“You are going to take us on?” Carol asks. Shock always gives her tone an extra edge, defensive and catty, even if she’s really just waiting to see if another shoe will drop.

“Obviously,” Steve says, placing a faintly orange square of cake in front of her. He slaps Eddie’s hand away from another piece without looking away from either of them. “That’s as far as I’ll be going in participation though.”

He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s mouth twitches up with the joke, a filthy smirk that leaves Tommy flushing hot. Too warm to not be a bright and obvious red at the acknowledgment of that old private in-joke.

It doesn’t get better when Carol moans, “Oh my god, Steve!” Even if it is about the cake.

He laughs, and Tommy suspects the two are actually trying to kill him. He chances a glance over at Munson who looks like he doesn’t care at all that his husband has made Tommy’s fiance moan. He is watching Tommy though, an inquisitive look like the one Carol gets when she happens to catch a nature documentary.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with Carol, “I’ll do something small with that citrus cake for you and Tom so you’ve got something you’ll actually eat on your wedding, maybe a pineapple buttercream on top like that nasty Juicy Fruit gum you like so much.”

“I mean it’s really crazy how you’re so good at this when you’ve never had any taste,” Carol compliments, she never did learn how to be nice.

He could probably count Steve’s teeth in the answering smile. Tommy can feel it like an ache in his chest how much he missed this. He snatches another cube of cake off the tray just so has something else to focus on.

“That’s the fancy one for the people who hate their guests,” Munson says as the cake has settled on the flat of Tommy’s tongue.

“It’s lavender,” Steve corrects, and the floral flavor is lodged in the back of his throat at least gives him a reason now to feel so choked up. “And it is for a particular sort of bride.”

“Are you saying I’m not fancy and particular, Munson?” Carol asks. 

She’s obviously talking to Eddie Munson, who lifts his hands up in answer. But it’s Steve who says, “If you tried to feed that to Gail she would leave the reception bitching the whole time.”

“Well go on,” Tommy finds himself goading now that he’s swallowed, “finish calling your shot, Stevie. You said you knew what we were walking out of here with.”

Carol reaches across the table, locking eyes with Eddie as she snags the piece closest to him. The one his fingers had been inching toward like he thought Steve wouldn’t notice him trying to take it.

“I’ll make a small citrus cake for you, Carrie, we’ll hide it in the back of the larger cake so you can get the pictures of you cutting it and smashing into each other's faces-”

“We will not be doing that,” she interrupts, the warning for him and also unnecessary. He already knows how she feels about being embarrassed in public.

“Then the big cake for your guests will be a chocolate cake, I can cover it in a buttercream or a fondant icing also chocolate, because it’s the only kind of cake the Hagan family will eat. Even though I’m sure John hasn’t given you a dime for the wedding, he’ll complain until Hannah gets married if he doesn’t like the cake.”

“Really,” Steve continues, “the only thing up in the air is how many people you were able to get away with not inviting, Care.”

The two of them start talking actual wedding logistics, and as Tommy grabs another bite of cake -- this one looks like it might be a normal flavor -- he figures the real show of good faith would be talking to the only other person at the table while he eats what Steve correctly dubbed his lunch.

“Y’know he never actually answered me,” he says in an undertone.

Munson seems surprised at being spoken to, only widens his eyes in response to Tommy’s unasked question.

“I asked Steve how soon after the first date he proposed, he never actually answered.”

Eddie softens at the edges before he can even say anything. Steve had a way of doing that, bringing out the romantic in a person. He loved with a passion that demanded it be matched. “Technically I proposed to him, but he says it doesn’t count because we weren’t together and I was high on morphine after a major surgery and thought he was Apollo, come to whisk me away.” The smile on Munson’s face looks dopey and drugged up now, like the very memory of whatever hospital stay is so ingrained in his mind he can feel the high now.

“But,” he goes on, “he told me we were getting married whether it was legal or not about three months after he got legally married to another woman.”

“Stop,” Steve has always been able to sense when he’s about to be the butt of the joke. He has a finger pointed at Eddie like a teacher delivering a lecture. “You can’t tell people that. It was for tax reasons, I’m not cheating on my wife.”

“You say tomato, I say whichever one of us is your least favorite has to be the extramarital affair.”

“I say, you’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.” Tommy can hear the warm affection behind the insult, the way their picking is a safer way to express their passion for one another.

He thought he would be jealous of whoever finally managed to reel in Steve Harrington for good, and he is. The emotion is there, present in the snarling tangle of emotions that this encounter has left in him. One that he and Carol will have to slowly tease and pick out tonight when they’re home in bed. Trying to make sense of what each thread is and what it means for them. But the one bright pulsing thread he can make sense of is happiness. He’s happy for Steve, happy that he gets to see an old friend so at ease and obviously cared for.

And he’s sad that his time is up, his lunch hour so close to an end he’ll be late getting back to the office. Something he can already hear his Dad and fucking Greg giving him shit for. Which means they have to end their time here.

Steve walks them to the door, flips the sign to mark them closed for lunch.

“Congratulations again, you two,” he says, “I really am happy I can get to be a part of this with you all. Even if it’s a little different than we used to imagine.”

Carol reaches out for the both of them, puts her hand on his arm. Tommy finds that he’s the one who actually says, “We’re glad you found someone who makes you this happy, dude. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, he’s alright most of the time.” It's said with such fondness it becomes a declaration. It’s hard to imagine how they thought they could ever be the something that could make Steve this happy. But maybe in a different life, under different circumstances it could have been.

There’s a minute where they all stand in the doorway. He wonders if they’re all afraid that this might be the last time they see each other, speak to one another, until Steve is delivering the cake on the day of the wedding. Maybe it’s just him, he was the one who pushed back the hardest after things ended.

Someone finally gives in and pushes the door open. It’s TONG a death toll for their current conversation. But it also sends a jolt through Steve, he straightens to his full height like a shock has gone through him. “Here,” he says, “here, um.” He digs around in his apron until he finds a pen and a receipt pad. Jots down something before tearing it off and putting it in Tommy’s hands, “It's our home number, in case you have any cake emergencies or something.”

They really can’t stay any longer.

Carol takes the note, better at keeping track of these things than Tommy is. It’s hard to know if they’ll actually use it, maybe after they talk about it, but if they do she’ll be the one to do it. She’s always been braver than him.

There’s no way of guaranteeing anything but the fact that they’ll have a cake on the table on their wedding day. But he hopes that Steve might stay for the ceremony once he brings it, he can even bring Eddie if that’s what gets him there. 

Alone in his car, Tommy lets himself take a minute to think about Steve Harrington one last time. He isn’t going to get what he wanted as a kid. Doubts that he’ll ever be as close to Steve as he’d been in childhood, too much time has passed and too much has changed.

But there’s an opportunity to get to know Steve Munson, and he isn't going to pass it up. Even if he doesn’t know how to name a bakery.

[webslingingslasher]

i’m seated for some sneak peaks of things you have in the drafts hehe

here's a blurb for munch frat!peter:

'hand this card to the last person to eat pussy.'

tarrent has a gleam in his eye as he proudly pushes it into peter's chest. 'drink up, bro.'

you're not watching, the content of your cup is more interesting. but you're listening to see exactly how peter plays this one off because he hasn't even tried- let alone offered to go down on you.

peter hands the card back. 'nah, i don't do that.' he says it like it's a joke and his friends laugh with him, like he's too humble to accept the crown title of carpet muncher.

---

here's a blurb for hockey!peter fighting for his life over a jersey

'hey, can i have a kiss?' the audacity. you cross your arms again and look to the side, 'no.' peter frowns, you lean away when you feel his lips on your cheek.

'no? not even after i just won?'

'you didn't deserve it.' you grumble it from the side of your mouth, peter catches it and feels offended. 'don't get pouty and tell me i deserved to lose.'

you turn to him, your eyes screamed fire at him. 'don't humilate me and demand a kiss then.'

---

here's a blurb for cherry!peter who's doing the best he can to make cherry's sex dream come to life

'i've been so good, haven't i been so good for you?' peter can sense a little bit of a praise kink in you, it's fitting. 'you're always good for me. you're my good girl, aren't you?'

a whimper, it's so much better when it's real. 'i'm your good girl.' a harsh grind, you clutch peter's forearm while you throw your head back. 'yeah? that feels good?'

'call me your pretty baby.' peter doesn't know where the direction is coming from but he likes it. 'does my pretty baby feel good?' an audible moan, he's fucking perfect at this.

---

here's a blurb for bf!frat!peter with a girlfriend who should always come first

peter is totally saving you for last and you're about to go nuts on him. sure, there might be a line of people and sure, you might be the one in the least danger but you're owed some sort of urgency.

'hello?' you call it out, you sound impatient. 'spider-man?' you are impatient. you call for him again, he holds up a hand and you gasp. 'oh you little- spider-man, you better come help me right now or i swear to god i'll...' you have no real threat. 'just don't tempt me!'

peter doesn't come help you, he's still helping an older woman and you're about to throw yourself into a fire for some attention. 'excuse me? i'm looking for my boyfriend, have you seen him?'

---

here's a blurb from that blurb... you know... the one where peter has hooked up with trouble's friend?

if peter was a brat, he'd say that you're not supposed to be talking to him. instead, he extends his hand out and watches heavy footing beat up the staircase. the second his door slams, his best friend is asking what the fuck happened with his eyes.

'she's mad at me.' his door swings open, you shout down to him. 'i'm not mad! we're broken up!' another slam. ethan's expecting a lot more from peter than a shrug. 'no we're not.'

his door hits the wall, another scream, 'yes we are!' a third slam, this time, he's got two friends coming out of their rooms and glancing between his bedroom door and the lower level where peter had crossed arms.

'what's going-' peter flails his arms around, trying to stop the impending question and what he knows is all you need to give him a round two, but worse because now you're no longer in public.

a sheepish grin crosses over a brother's face when his door explodes open, peter thinks there might be a hole behind his door where the handle matches up perfectly.

---

here's a blurb where ethan walks in on sexy time :(

'liar! he saw me from behind!' you know he did, it was all on show. everything's ruined. peter's trying his best to be soothing. 'hey, even if he did, he won't say anything. it's ethan, you know ethan.'

you do. that's why it's so bad. the reminder makes you cry harder, peter connects the dots. 'oh jeez, trouble. here, come give me a hug.' it's a pathetic reach, you want nothing more than to be locked away in his hold, hidden and secret from the outside world.

'he-' you suck in air, curling in even closer to peter as if you weren't on his lap already. 'he saw me having sex.' you pull peter's arms tighter around you, it almost hurts it's so tight. it's what you need.

'i know, baby. i'm so sorry.' at least he's being honest.

'how much did he see?' peter doesn't know either, he was a little busy underneath you. he just knows the second he saw his door open, his instinct was to protect you.

'very little.' you feel kisses over your head, 'please stop crying.'

---

here's a blurb where nerdy!peter has no filter when he's drunk

'hi, honey.' you hold his arm tightly, 'don't lean over.' bending at the waist you reach for the keys, peter groans and shouts an exaggerated 'oh my god!'

you fly up, the metal tucked between your fingers. 'what?' you look around, peter's busy staring down your skirt while his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 'your ass is so nice.'

you suck in a deep breath and ignore the flush of warmth covering your chest. 'thank you, petey.' you ignore the slight shake in your hand when you shove the key in.

peter's door gets stuck a lot and you have to shove your shoulder into it a little. while you're doing your best to raid the door, a hand slides up the back of your thigh and gives you a tight squeeze. you jump and yelp, your hand reaching back to throw his off.

'peter!' he giggles and turns his head like you wouldn't be able to see him anymore. 'i just wanted to touch it a little.' peter's fingertips lightly drag up your thigh, you slap it away again. he giggles harder, the sound bubbles out of him.

'i'm trying to get us inside, leave my butt alone.' you have his promise, and you nudge the door a little, a sharp smack has you wipping around to face him. peter shoots his hands up, 'last one, i promise! that was the last one!'

[aziraphales-library]

Hello,

Thank you for what you’re doing! It’s so great! Because of you I’ve found some of my favourite fics.

I wanted to ask of you maybe know some shorter ones (around 10 or 20k words) with Aziraphale and Crowley over the centuries falling on love. Maybe some jealous crowley fics as well. Thank you in advance :)

Hi. We have #through the ages and #jealous crowley tags. Here are some 10-20k through the ages fics...

this life we’ve created by rainbowumbrella (T)

“No,” Crawley finally said, after what felt like an eternity. It was long enough for the water to rise about half an inch. “I got you into this, angel, we’ll see it through together. Besides, who knows how long this is going to go for? Might need to take care of this unicorn for a few days.” “Ah, you see… the rain is supposed to last forty days and forty nights. And I believe the flood itself should go on for quite a bit longer.” Perfect. Plenty of time for Hell to notice they were missing a demon on Earth, what could possibly go wrong? “Well, then. You might need a hand babysitting the unicorn.” *** Crowley and Aziraphale babysit a unicorn until the waters of the flood recede enough to return it home.

To Travel Through the World and Not Be Alone by Aethelflaed (G)

The longer Aziraphale spends on Earth, the more he begins to feel new things. Like a need to talk to someone. Or stand close to them. Take their hand. Where do these emotions come from? And why are they mainly directed at the demon he travels with? -- Aziraphale and Crawly learn to cope with the emotions and instincts that come with a human body. The Crowley-Turns-Into-A-Snake-When-Flustered fic that deconstructs the trope and plays it for feels!

the fact of his pulse by lexophile (NR)

The revelation of the angel’s face hovering over him—and his firelit, affectionate expression—is more than he can cope with right now. Crowley shuts his eyes again, although he does make an effort to relax his shoulders and curl his knees in towards his chest. He’s aware that lying in the fetal position with his head on an angel’s lap is just about the least demonic thing he’s ever done. - Or: five times Crowley successfully conceals his crush on Aziraphale and one time he fails.

Mistakes Were Made: The (Babylonian) Story of the Flood by eag (M)

A hundred years after the end of the Flood, Aziraphale runs into Crowley (or rather, Crawley) at a banquet in Abydos. Flashbacks to the Flood and that time an angel and a demon ran away for a year minus a day. Aziraphale and Crowley had better return on time to stand in the delegations of Heaven and Hell that meet in the aftermath of the Flood. Of course, mistakes were made...

The Weight Of The World by entanglednow, wargoddess9 (T)

At the height of the Roman Empire's power, Crowley meets Aziraphale for lunch in Pompeii. He's eager to share some of the famed street food the city has to offer, but the ash falling from the mountain to the North is steadily growing thicker.

Writing Letters Addressed to the Fire by Bluemask (T)

This is the problem of human beings, Crowley ponders; they never know when to stop. “Good Lord,” a familiar voice suddenly sighs on his left, close enough to be heard clearly despite the ongoing revolt. “What have you done this time?” Crowley forces himself to ignore the headache that has begun to squeeze his skull again. “You wound me, angel.” He turns just enough to get a glimpse of Aziraphale’s blonde hair and rich clothes, grinning sharply. “Do you really think all this mess is my fault?” Aziraphale rolls his eyes and takes a couple of steps to join Crowley. “How could it not be?” He asks. “As usual, you’re up to no good.” “What is good and what is evil, anyway..." [Essex, 1381] - Just an angel and a demon Falling in love throughout History, Time and Space. Nothing new, really.

- Mod D

[13eyond13]

Sometimes I still think about how sweet it was when that anon checked on me last year when I was posting overly dark jokes. Thank you whoever you were, that was kind

[medicinemane]

And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"

I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse

And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa

And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house

I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished

...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)

And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff

There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government

No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)

Like have some accountability there and in every situation

Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free

If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off

I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)

But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced

Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around

I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)

...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change

(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)

(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)

[stardustedknuckles]

The problem with becoming friends with people while all of you are going through some awful trauma is that if you're not careful you won't know how to keep being friends without it. Growth is a good thing, but that can be easy to forget when every step forward you take makes you worry those people won't be in your life anymore and you subconsciously feel like you have to manufacture some kind of ongoing crisis so you guys have something to talk about. Friendships formed in the face of hardship are strong and fierce things, and the relationship fading as your lives improve doesn't mean it wasn't real. It just served its purpose. You all made it out alive, and that was why you found each other in the first place. This is a hard and shitty lesson to learn.

[ultimategirldad]

✨️ The long awaited return...! ✨️

*rises from the ashes like a phoenix with a body clock innately attuned to deltarune and deltarune only* hello. I live!          ...anyway. 1 week till DR CH2 anniversary how y'all doing? 

[bowtiestash]

i’m going to try to be more active on tumblr because of the way twitter’s going, just a heads up

[rahabs]

I should have listened to my instincts and avoided law school lmao everyone says law school is the worst part of law but uh, no, actually everything gets worse after you get the JD because the entire culture of law is shitty and toxic and I’m so Miserable.

[montanabohemian]

anyway i just heard back about a job i'd applied to and had three interviews for (the last one totaled two fucking hours and part of it started at 6:30am) that i didn't get it. like what in the entire fuck was all that about then. 😒😒😒

[valleydoli]

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

[wishful-seeker]

Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist

1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.

Example:

Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."

Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"

This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.

Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."

Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"

This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.

Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.

To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.

2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.

For example:

Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"

Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."

Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?

3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."

Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."

This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.

4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.

For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.

5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.

6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"

Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"

Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.

7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.

For example:

Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."

Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"

This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[peachesofteal]

pls let Simon hold that baby 🥺

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild suggestive content, mention of spanking - could be considered mildly dark and twisty

"Oh, you came!"

What? Yes, he came. You invited him, didn't you? Wasn't that... did he get this wrong? "Er, yeah... I thought you said-"

"I did, I did. Come in." You step to the side, allowing him entry into the hallway where the smell of something incredible lingers, pulling at the pockets of his cheeks. You can cook. Judging by the scent of roast chicken and herbs that fill the room, he knows immediately that you're better than the 'subpar' dinner you mentioned yesterday. "You just ah, seemed unsure. I didn't want to assume." His hand pats his pocket instinctively, seeking the mask, trying to fight the urge to pull it over his face, pleasantly surprised you don't seem off put by his face, or the fact that it's the first time you've seen him without it.

"I had some things going on today, wasn't sure about my schedule until a few hours ago." Lie. It's a lie, a bold faced one. He knew he'd be here from the moment you had rushed out the invite, offering to cook him dinner as he dwarfed you inside your cozy apartment, dead smoke detector batteries in his hand.

"Well, thank you for coming. And thanks for all your help yesterday. I couldn't figure that stupid thing out to save my life." You laugh, teeth exposed, easy and carefree. A shiver ricochets down his spine. Why you let him inside your flat the first time, he'll never understand. Maybe one day, he'll reprimand you for it. Chide you for letting a stranger inside your home, remind you to be more cautious. He would explain why you need to more careful, more observant of your surroundings, as his thumb rubbed away the fat tears falling over your cheeks, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a dozen times for the slip up. Can't be makin' mistakes like that, love. Not with it just being you and the baby when I'm not here- he'd tell you, make you promise not to do it again, soothing your tears with cool cream against your skin and gentle, but firm, reassurance.

You just need someone to take care of you, that's all. Teach you.

Emmaline makes a noise, a half babble, half cry, and it breaks him from his reckless daydream, bringing him back to reality in a matter of seconds. What is he thinking? You're his neighbor. He doesn't even know you.

"Thanks for inviting me." You're bent at the waist, hands pulling a roasting rack from the oven, perfectly cooked bird sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, and his stomach rumbles almost loud enough for you to hear.

"I owe you. That beeping would've kept little miss here up for hours." You jerk your head in Emmaline's direction, where she's fixated on you, mouth hanging half open. "Needs a few more minutes." You mumble to yourself, and then turn around again. "Do you want a drink? I've got some lagers, and a bottle of wine somewhere." Your fingers knot together, words on the tip of your tongue hopeful, almost... nervous, and you give him another smile, albeit this one is less confident.

"A lager would be good." He tries to settle you by being agreeable, and you produce two from the fridge, your fingers brushing against his when you hand one to him, skin warm and so, so soft, the kind of soft he's rarely felt, the kind that feels like silk against sandpaper. Yours against his.

"So, you said you travel for-" Your question is interrupted by a shriek, a demanding cry from Emmaline, her little fists waving in the air at you, like she's indignant about the redirection of your attention. You pick her up, yellow jumper bright against your red apron, and you shoot him an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, I was hoping she'd be down by now but, she's just been so fussy lately." You bounce her back and forth, cries quieting until she's just blinking at you with wet eyes, and the timer on the oven goes off. "Shit. Ah..." You look at her, and then look at the oven. "Can you, would you mind?" You extend your arms, Emma inside them, and he puts every piece of his training to use trying to control his reaction.

His heart soars.

His brain panics.

"Yeah, okay." He says, and you dip forward, pushing her into his arms. He knows how to hold a baby, held Joseph plenty, and she seems to agree, settling in against his chest, hands grabbing at his sweatshirt, tugging and trying to eat the fabric. She's light, lighter than he expected, but still sturdy, and when her lips shift into a gummy smile as she makes eye contact with him, he feels everything logical inside him shutting down.

Beautiful baby girl, and her perfect, sweet, angel of a mum.

He'll be keeping you.

He'll be keeping you both.

[medicinemane]

.