#christ. just saw an awful post

[hopalongfairywren]

can people ever get it through their skulls that their experiences aren't universal and what's healing for them is not for others.

[yardsards]

people love an "i'll take care of you" "it's rotten work" "not to me, not if it's you" character dynamic until the character who needs to be taken care of is disabled. then it's supposedly fucked up and toxic for a person to have to take care of someone else.

[guiltywisdom]

David Kirby (1957-1990)

He looks like Christ, I see Christ in him.

David Kirby on his deathbed, a victim of AIDS. Also pictured, David's caregiver and friend Peta, David's father Bill Kirby and David's sister Susan. Photographed by Therese Frare in Ohio (1990). David's father Bill has made it clear, David wanted everyone to see his picture.

[trashlie]

it's good to see you around again, I missed reading your long ILY posts, hope you're doing better too :) if you ever share your thoughts on the latest couple of episodes (including fp) here, I'd be super excited to read them! I'm really curious how you think the timeline is gonna go from here - especially relating to Shin-Ae and Nolan since it feels like they are the last pieces that need to fall into place so everything is ready for the post-timeskip story to go down. like you, I was so sure Nol and Shin-Ae were going to have some kind of reconciliation before he goes to jail but WELP rip 3 day extension. Poor guy though, Yui showing up in his hospital room must have been extremely triggering, it made sense that he did everything to get outta there ASAP. It's worrying me that this series of negative interactions (Kousuke, Alyssa, Yui) could've undone everything positive Shin-Ae Dieter Soushi Nana did, and now therapy during jail time could either have a positive or negative effect, so Nol is a Schroedinger's cat for now.... At least some things got cleared up and Shin-Ae is now starting to understand the root of the problem (= Yui) (and it actually really makes sense that she had to figure it out herself instead of Nol telling her - the boy obviously isn't ready to talk) so we made some progress.... But istg with this upcoming separation arc 2.0 it feels so much like we're gonna be back at ground zero after the first time skip. Fingers crossed they reconcile in whatever way before the big time skip though. we need a somewhat positive conclusion to this arc before season 1 ends, because if not then what was all this build up for, and why now? What about the realizations? the "convince me"? What about "if you won't let me have you"? If their reconciliation is only going to happen after multiple years of "conflict" between them that would be so cruel....

AND SHIN-AE STILL HASN'T GOTTEN HER BANDANA BACK and now he's stealing her lines too SDGDADSF;SDF

Waaaahhhhh thank you, friend!!! As you can probably tell, I'm still trying to get myself back here fully and figure out how to balance everything, which has always been a struggle ;~; I really may resort to telling my friends to ignore me and yell at me until I get certain posts written up so I'll stop procrastinating because there are SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT EPISODES I WANT TO RECAP AND TALK ABOUT!!!! BUT THE ORGANIZING MYSELF!!!! IS THE PART THAT'S SO DIFFICULT!!!!!!!!

One of the great things about the ILY discord server is that we have this very constant, active conversation going on at all times so it's SO easy to be very present and active, but I also find that it means it's more difficult for me to regulate myself, or I'll have that feeling that I JUST talked about something and so when I try to write about it over here, it feels like a hollow echo and I know that's just because I was just having the conversation so that's just something I need to work on dealing with lol

But I want to answer this before we move so far away from when you asked this!!!!! As expected, there are FP spoilers ahead for eps 246 through 249!!!!!

I!!!! DO NOT KNOW!!!!!!! LMAO Like. GOD. I feel like quimchee has thrown us curveball after curveball and when we sit down and think about how long this period of December 21 and the post December 21 arc has been, how much the story has weaved around?! There are so many things that have occurred that I NEVER expected and, like you, it's just everything I thought has clearly gone out the window. Part of it, I think, is the result of quimchee having to change the arrangement of her story, and god I would love to pick her brain about the things that changed, since Nol's injury was supposed to happen at the formal itself, we never would have had this extended period of hospital time, and it seems like everything about Nol and Shinae coming to realization with their feelings would have played out in a wholly different way than what we ended up getting, so on some level I think this is partly that quimchee, too, is sort of throwing herself cureveballs in that there are things she knows needs to happen and she isn't sure where or how to fit the other elements in? But that's just my guess.

On the one hand, I do feel very "WHAT WAS THE EXTENSION FOR IF NOT FOR RECONCILIATION?!" but beyond Stalkyoo, we have gotten a LOT of good stuff out of this period of time. We see Kousuke facing his cognitive dissonance for, perhaps, the first time, and the revelation that Yui has been drugging him (and likely for a long time, given the way Hansuke describe the dosage Kousuke had and that it merely knocked him out), and more than that, making those connections between Nol and Yui and tea, and wanting to face him. I'm STILL proud of him for wanting to go back and see Nol again, even after he couldn't face him, even after Hansuke found him on the floor of a public bathroom hugging a toilet from the remorse and guilt and perhaps shame of the realization of the ways he has hurt people - has hurt Nol! - who didn't deserve it. We have seen that Rand and Yujing are, in fact, working on something behind the scenes, that Rand is facing Yui as a real adversary now, not just someone who has been resigned to endure her for so many years now, but to actually fight against her. The entirety of Nol's birthday celebration could not have happened the way it did had he not been in the hospital, since he would have had to turn himself in, and while maybe the original plan was that they celebrated his birthday with Minhyuk's coming home party, I'm.... not sure if that would have been the case?

But at at any rate, I do acknowledge that despite the fact that it feels like Nol might be back at square one, that he and Shinae are back where they started in 151, such significant events HAVE taken place that I think will still affect the narrative future of ILY. I still feel strongly that part of Nol's trajectory is coming to terms with the fact that he does, indeed, belong here. That he isn't someone who wasn't meant to be, that he doesn't belong here. He belongs, and he deserves love. He is someone, not nothing. I still think one of his greater arcs will involve coming to embrace this, and while the negative events - Kousuke, Alyssa, Yui - feel like they could be setting him back, he is now equipped with knowledge and feelings he wasn't before. It can't hurt him the same. In fact, I think part of why his confrontation with Alyssa went the way it did was because he had had this experience with Shinae, Dieter, and Soushi, it illuminated everything that was so wrong with his relationship with Alyssa, how neither of them really know each other. It's that sense of foiling that allows him to put his foot down and say enough is enough. Even before it was revealed that Alyssa had come with Yui, it was clear that Nol was over the visit. Don't get me wrong - I understand why he couldn't see that Alyssa clearly was not well, that she was uncomfortable, that she had come to him with no one else to go to, much as he'd gone to Kousuke in the past when he lost his mom, and I also understand why he did the same thing Kousuke did and turned her away. But the point I'm getting at is, it feels like there was a shift. That birthday celebration illuminated something for Nol.

So it's kind of like, while it feels like this might have undone the progress Nol made, it can't undone the revelations he's had, and in that same way, it cannot cast shadow on his enlightenment. He is not the same Nol he was a week ago. Too much has changed, he's become aware of too much, and as such, he is going to respond differently to what comes his way, and while he may continue to try what he had originally intended, I think the difference is that he's now been made aware of things that impact the choices he makes.

But largely I don't really know what I expect just yet. I think it's very pointed that the lawyer reminded Shinae that she has his phone number; I don't think that would be called out if it wasn't going to be important in some way, but in terms of how are we going from here to there? Unsure lol. I think there HAS to be a resolution of some kind, whether it's a reconciliation or not, because Shinae is on this momentum swing that isn't going to stop until she crashes into something or she comes into a force of nature that stops her. Nothing, no one, has been able to reach her or get through to her, and I know it's just because of how much she's hurting, but she's lashing out at people and hurting THEM like a street cat swiping at people trying to help her. She's so terrified of losing Nol, especially now that he came back, especially now that she gave him the option to leave and he didn't and it rekindled that hope she gave him an opening to leave when it would have been easier and he didn't which just made it worse, because so much more was at stake. She can't stop fighting she can't stop trying because she cannot bear what it means to lose him for real this time, not when she finally had him back, not when that realization has come to her even if she won't admit it. She needs him, so what's going to make her give up?

Something has to transpire, whether it's a reconciliation or Nol pushing her away and really shattering her heart or something awful like that, to bring her to a halt, because I can't imagine how we would move into our mini time skip to spring/graduation with Shinae like this, right? So I think there must be some kind of resolution. My foolish, hopeless self wants so badly to hope for reconciliation but esp after 249 I am SO torn. I have two thoughts.

a. they reconcile. She can reach him, and convince him, and even though he is so afraid, he is also someone who folds in front of her, he struggles to resist her. He told her to convince him and boy she can convince him and even though he tells himself he isn't sure if these feelings are real because what if it's just because she's NICE to him I think hearing her confess her feelings would tell him how he feels and give him the answer.

b. But the alternative feels like a parallel to Nessa and Rand, because Nessa, too, was hurt over and over by someone who kept getting her hopes up and getting hurt by him. Shinae gave Nol the opportunity to leave and he didn't, he stayed and doing so sparked her hope, made her feel things, they shared these tender, intimate moments together and forced that realization to come to mind, but for him to push her away again, for her safety, to make choices on her behalf even though she's told him she hates that and she doesn't want him to. Imagine her pulling a Nessa and calling him scum lfkjajkfkjfjkfaj ;A;!!!!! Imagine her so angry and hurt and resentful and saying awful things she doesn't mean and GOD I feel like it can go only one of these ways because what ELSE is going to stop her in her tracks?!

And I really want a reconciliation because parting like this sets them up for SO. MUCH. STRIFE. Because we know one way or another Shinae is going to end up taking Yui's offer and if Nol leaves on these terms, he would end up thinking she's following in Alyssa's footsteps doing so, not understanding WHY she's doing, not understanding that this is Shinae's only way of protecting herself, learning to speak Yui's language and play her game.

and idk I know I'm a hopeful optimist reading a webtoon that proves to me over and over that I cannot be a hopeful optimist but LMAO GOD I WANT SHINAE TO CONVINCE THAT DUMBO

I've said it before that convincing him doesn't mean they have to get into a relationship. Just. Reconcile. She's so afraid of LOSING HIM, thinking that once he slips away he's out of her grasp, her sight, for good, that she will lose the best thing that happened to her and I WANT THAT RECONCILATION. I want her to convince him, for both their sakes. So that he knows he has someone he can go back to. So that she knows he's not just throwing her away. So that she doesn't have to fear losing something so precious and important.

Am I foolish and hopeful for hoping for that outcome? Maybe, but it won't stop me LMAO because as delicious and angsty as Shinae and Nol following in Ressa's footsteps with Nol hurting her again and leaving her so hurt and angry is, I want to see them on that same page. I want to see Shinae convince him - convince him why he is so important to her, and that his feelings are real. That's the thing, right, like.... you can tell yourself that your feelings aren't real, but if the person you like confesses to you, your heart will inevitably betray you and respond to the confession. Nol fears for Shinae's safety but important puzzle pieces are falling into place. She has figured what he fears the most - and if she thinks hard enough she'll realize how she can use that to her "advantage", in that Rand has told her Yui will never let her go, that it doesn't matter if Nol leaves or not. It goes back to my oft repeated sentiment of them needing to be on the same page, to be a team, because his absence will not protect her. And between what Rand told her, plus her anecdotes about Kousuke's birthday and how Yui treated her even before the formal, and what Yujing told Nol about Kousuke being drugged by Yui, maybe, just MAYBE that conclusion that wasn't only him all along will finally hit him. I know he can't change over night, that he has so many deeply ingrained fears that won't be easily assuaged, but I have to hope that a confession from Shinae can convince him that the alternative is worse. Convince him to fight along side her ;A;

I go back and forth on this thought but I think this is strongly what I feel right now. That reconciliation could still be around the corner, even if it's just an admission and a promise to not push her away. Shinae is tired of people acting on her behalf, tired of not getting a say, and especially in something that involves her heart, her feelings?

Go fight girl and maybe bite him if that's what it takes ;A;

STEALING HER BANDANA. HER LINES. HERT HEART. THIS MAN DESERVES TO BE LOCKED AWAY

ALFJLFJLFKJLAFKJLKFJALKFJ

[flufflecat]

anyone else finding it really, really personally nauseating that the pjo show would remove gabes entire character and replace him with someone less abusive to make sally a Strong Female Character. like wow, im sure glad that youve proven that women who are abused are the REAL threat to feminism, and they should just try talking back more!! what a good message to send to abused kids. sorry, kid. i guess you just didnt argue hard enough and #Own your abuser into seeing how cool and strong you are. what do you mean that arguing with an abuser will only make them hurt you more? but look how snappy and cool and feminist sally is now!!! youre clearly just being abused wrong.

[beah388love]

Favourite flower

Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Summary: You love orchids..it could even be an addiction.

Warnings: swearing! Bad language, reader is upset and cries! (Please tell me if I missed any?!!!)

It was a known thing that you absolutely adored orchids. They were your favourite flower in the whole world and you would quite literally look after them like your babies.

-

“Okay now turn the chat on” lando explained to max and he rolled his eyes “how do I do that?”

“You press the button.” Lando said throwing his hands up losing his patience “what button?! There’s a lot to pick from!” Max argued and you gave the camera a tired look from their stupid arguments, they honestly sounded like an old married couple sometimes.

“Just let me do it-“ lando huffed as he pressed it and the chat started swarming with comments, “Jesus Christ how am I supposed to read all that?” Max said laughing and lando shook his head with a smile as he continued to try to fix the mic stand.

“Thank you for the sub Kelly5608…who’s that?” Max read out from the chat “that’s y/n guys she’s chilling” max smiled as you gave the camera a wave from his sofa.

User1: who is that in the background?

User2: OMG Y/N WE SAW YOUR ORCHIDSSSSS

User3: congrats on your win y/n!

User4: what orchids did you get for winning your race?!

User5: NOT MAX AND LANDO ARGUING AGAIN LMAO

Max scrolled up as he tried to read the comments “they’re all asking about your new orchid y/n” max smiled as he looked over to you “oh yeah! I was going to post her today but forgot! Hang on imma go get her!” You gasped with a squeal as you jumped up and ran out the room to go grab the flower.

“She loves orchids guys..the house is full of them.” Max chuckled and lando grinned “they all have names too”

“Here she is! Shes pink with SPOTSSSSS! I haven’t got a name for her yet though..” you beamed as you showed the camera your new orchid.

“How many have you got now?” Lando asked with a smile at your excitement. “Uh…12”

“Why do you like them so much?” Max asked and you shrugged “they’re just so pretty..” you said touching the petals of your flower in awe.

Lando wrapped his arm around your stomach and pulled you to him “max everything’s okay now, I think.” Lando said as he gestured to his set up.

“Thanks mate..are you guys staying in the background?” Max asked and lando looked up to you to see what you wanted to do, “mhm..yeah I’m gonna go put my orchid back first though” you said as you put a hand through landos hair before leaving again.

Lando huffed with a moody face as max thanked his subs.

User1: why’s lando so annoyed?

User2: lando looks so mad

Lando read the chat as he waited for you, “guys I’m tired..I’m not annoyed” Lando said not noticing you behind him making him jump a bit. “He’s tired..my grouchy boy” you smirked teasing him.

Lando grabbed his phone and sat on the sofa, pulling you on top of him making you giggle “can we sleep?” Lando asked tiredly and you nodded into his chest as he played with your hair.

“Lando and y/n are dead asleep guys..” max said as he looked behind him “i think he’s actually drooling…yeah he’s drooling” max laughed to himself as he stood up and took a picture before sneakily sitting back in his chair again “I can use that for blackmail now” max smirked with a devil laugh.

-

“Okay…chat can you hear me? Can you hear us?” Max asked into the mic whilst lando checked the monitor was working. “Okay..they can hear us.”

“Now let’s call ria” max said as he clicked his tongue, “max? Lando? Can you hear me? I can hear you.” She said through her headset and max smiled “we can hear you”

You were snuggled up in lando’s arms, playing a game on his phone.

“Is y/n there?” Ria asked and max looked over to lando.

“Yeah but she can’t hear you” max said and that perked your interest as you lifted your head and looked up at max and lando confused.

Lando bit back his grin “He’s talking about ria.” Lando explained and you nodded as you laid your head back down on his chest, lando stroking his hand up and down your back under your his hoodie.

“Is she gonna stay there?” Ria asked and max shook his head. Max poked lando on the head catching his attention.

Max silently gestured to you and lando nodded, “baby? Is it okay if you lay somewhere else?” Lando asked and you whined “why…m’comfy here.”

“Because I need to have room for the game we’re playing” Lando said and you huffed “fine…”

You got up and took landos phone with you still playing whatever game had your attention, “Kiss?” Lando grabbed your wrist gently stopping you and you smiled before giving him a small kiss, before walking off to your bedroom.

“Okay she’s gone.” Max whispered into his mic “you don’t need to whisper you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“Okay. So how are we planning this surprise then?” Max asked.

“Right..so I have a list of all the things she likes here-“ ria said but lando interrupted “we already got her some orchids by the way”

“Great, That’s off the list then.” Ria smiled as she scratched it off her notes.

Liked by McLaren, maxfewtrell, Carlossainz and 1,484,932 others

landonorris: Y/n’s surprise from me and max…. She has been blocked from this post btw so don’t tag her lol

Tagged: maxfewtrell

User1: omg where to find a man like lando?

User2: literalllyyyyyy

User3: omg this is so fucking cute

User4: what’s this about?

User5: y/n won the Grand Prix and lando and max did a whole stream making a surprise for her

maxfewtrell: we was in that garden centre for hours.

landonorris: hours.

Maxverstappen1: remember her birthday?

landonorris: god don’t remind me, it’s so hard to get her presents

Carlossainz: You didn’t get her that pink one did you?

landonorris: yeah I did

Carlossainz: Dude. You said I could get her that one?!

landonorris: snooze ya lose

-

Ginge and Ethan flew out to Monaco to ‘to train and eat like lando for 24 hours’

“Woah! Are these y/n’s orchids?” Ethan asked when he saw the windowsill filled with them, two hanging down either side.

“Mh? Oh yeah- that’s just some of them, the rest are in our bedroom” lando said with a little laugh.

“These are just some? There’s 1..2..3…8!” Ginge exclaimed as he counted them.

“What’re you talking about?” You smiled as you walked in to the kitchen right on time.

“Your orchids” lando smiled as he placed a kiss on your head and you gasped happily.

“Be prepared…they have names.” Lando whispered to them both before you began rambling. Lando giggled to himself as he ate his breakfast.

“This one is called pineapple! Because it looks like a pineapple and this one is called leafy-“ you smiled as you showed them both all your orchids and they were shocked when you told them how long you had them all..

“How many have died?” Ginge asked “only one out of..twelve” you said and he nodded “I thought these were hard to look after?”

“They say that but I’m not an expert” you shrugged “what’s the oldest you have then? Or the first one you got?” Ethan asked and you squealed excitedly.

“It’s one of my favourites..it’s called leafy and I’ve had it since I was 14 so…seven years nearly eight” you said and they both gasped “Jesus Christ- how long do they live?”

“Some live up to 20+ years but I haven’t had any that long to determine that yet” you smiled

“Anyway you better eat your breakfast before your workout” you said as you remembered their plan for today.

“I guess I know what to get her for her next birthday” ginge laughed and lando shook his head “No. No more orchids.”

“What?” You said sadly and he smirked “only kidding…I luv em- they remind me of you” he smiled as he pulled you into his embrace and you laughed “well in that case…I want a red one” you grinned.

-

You sat on the sofa with lando and Carlos for post-race interview questions.

“First of all congratulations on your win y/n-“ the interviewer smiled and you smiled back “thank you”

“My question is, so it’s very known that you love your orchids-“ the interviewer grinned and you giggled nodding your head “you could say that again” Carlos laughed

“Are you expecting any after this win? I remember your last win and might I say you got a lot” the interviewer smiled and you nodded “I don’t expect any, but I would love them” you answered.

“And might I ask why you love them so much?” The man asked and you thought for a moment “I can’t really say? I just do? Ever since I was gifted my first one I’ve just fell in love with them.” You smiled at the memory.

-

“Alright, max! We’re leaving now” you said as lando grabbed his bag “alright see you later” max smiled

“Water my orchids yeah?” You said pointing a finger at him sternly and he nodded with a smile.

“60 ml of water, boil the rice water- oh! And only on the weekend! Once a week!” You listed off as lando dragged you out the house.

“I will! Now go. leave!” Max chuckled as he shut the door.

A week later

Max poured the boiled water exactly too 60ml in the jug and walked over to your orchids and began watering them until he got to your favourite and in his opinion his favourite too, the light blue orchid.

The rarest out of all of your collection, it was a gift from lando after winning your first race and he had asked you to be his girlfriend. You had named it lucky.

He poured in the water and did a double take when he saw the flowers had shrivelled up and gone brown. “Oh my fucking god.” He muttered under his breath.

“Oh fuck. Shit-“ he cursed as he reached out to touch one of the shrivelled flowers but it fell off from his touch. “Ah- shit!” He swore as he began pacing.

“Fuck i killed it. It’s dead. Oh my god.” He panicked to himself and jumped when his phone lit up.

He hesitantly walked over to his phone and scrunched his face when he saw it was lando.

Lando: we just landed and y/n wants me to tell you to only do 60ml lol

Max bounced his leg anxiously as he sat down looking at his phone, he overcome his anxiety and hit press on the call button next to landos name.

Lando answered his phone confused, “max?”

“Lando- I uh- promise you won’t yell at me.” Max said quietly and lando stiffened catching your attention. “What did you do.” Lando asked and max breathed out.

“Is y/n there? Can she hear me?” Max asked and lando sighed, “y/n? I’m gonna go somewhere quieter okay?” He asked and you nodded.

“Alright I’m alone. What happened?” Lando asked worried

“Promise you won’t be mad…” max said and lando huffed “max. Just get it out.”

“I killed y/n’s orchid”

…

…

…

“Lando?”

“Oh my fucking god.” Lando shut his eyes and scrunched his face.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t even do anything! It’s just brown and wilted and dead.” Max blurted in a panic.

“How are you gonna tell her?” Lando asked and max went silent “I thought you was going to! That’s why I called you!” Max argued and lando scoffed.

“Yeah well I’m not the one who killed it. Wait what one is it?” Lando asked and max bit his lip anxiously.

“The blue one….”

“OH MY F-“ lando whisper shouted as he slapped his hand to his face.

“Oh my god she’s gonna be so upset. Fuck. We can’t tell her yet, we’ll tell her after qualifying” Lando said and max sighed “fuck I feel so bad”

“Max I’ve gotta go- she’s coming” Lando said before hanging up.

“What was that about?” You asked and lando quickly lied “he needed help to connect to the wifi”

“That’s max for you” you laughed and he nodded with a fake smile “yeah- yeah it is.” Lando said through gritted teeth.

After qualifying

You had come second in qualifying, lando came first.

“Baby..I uhm- I need to talk to you and you need to promise me you won’t be mad” Lando said seriously and you instantly grew worried, “w-what is it?”

“So- uh- I don’t know how to say this but…max accidentally killed your orchid….” Lando said as he held your hand and you physically paled.

“Which one?” You asked with widened eyes and he took a breath “the blue one…” Lando said and you gasped and felt tears prick your eyes.

You know people would say how stupid it is to cry over a flower but it’s not just a flower. It was the orchid lando got your for winning your first race and it was the night he asked you to be his girlfriend that he gave it to you, and he had picked the colour blue 1. Because of how rare it is and everyone struggled to get a hold of it and 2. Because the colour reminded you of someone meaningful to you.

“Baby..” Lando said softly as he wrapped you in his arms “w-why did h- he k-kill it” you whimpered as you wiped your tears.

Oscar walked over to you both but lando quickly gestured to him to leave and Oscar nodded awkwardly before leaving.

“I- I wanna go back home” you whimpered and lando nodded as he rocked you both side to side.

“Alright..we can go back home baby” lando muttered into your hair as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“Can you carry me?” You asked and he gave you a sad smile nodding “hop on baby” Lando said as he bent down and you hopped onto his back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders and burying your head into the crack of his neck.

He felt awful. He could feel some stray tears dropping onto his neck and shirt.

He carried you through the paddock up to his car. You got off his back silently and sat in the front passenger seat looking down at you hands.

You pulled your hood up and lando felt so bad, he knew how much your orchids meant to you especially the blue one.

“Im sorry baby..” Lando said sadly, stroking your thigh with his free hand.

The jet home was silent for you, lando had given you his headphones and you sat on his lap you face buried in his neck and his arms wrapped around you.

He knew his headphones were noise cancelling so when Oscar asked him what had happened he sighed and explained what happened to him.

“Actually that reminds me- max was supposed to message me…” lando said as he grabbed his phone from the table, he could feel your breathing slow and little snores from you so he knew you had fallen asleep.

Max: is she okay?

Lando: she’ll be okay, how did you kill it?

Max: I didn’t! It just died! I swear! I’ve never killed her orchids before when I looked after them.

Lando: I know I just find it weird since it’s a couple years old now? It should’ve been fine.

Max: I feel awful.

Lando: she’ll forgive you don’t worry

Max: I hope so

Lando sighed as he shut his phone off, “are you sure it’s dead?” Oscar asked and lando nodded. “Max said its flowers have all fallen off and gone brown” Lando said tiredly and Oscar furrowed his brows.

“Doesn’t that happen when they wilt though? They usually die when the leaves go?” Oscar asked and lando pouted his lips confused “how do you know so much about orchids?”

“Y/n” Oscar said with a little laugh.

Once you got home

You had hopped onto landos back again, your face nuzzled in his neck. “Please don’t be mad at max baby, he didn’t mean to kill it” Lando said and you sighed sadly.

“I won’t I’m just upset.”

“I know.” Lando said as he rubbed small circles on the back of your leg, holding you up.

Max opened the door hesitantly, scared of your anger and sadness towards him but it didn’t come.

You hopped off of landos back and quickly walked inside to go look at your favourite flower but you paused when you saw it.

“Y/n…I- Im Sorry” max said quietly and lando bit his lip as he leaned against the wall watching you.

“Wait? I’m confused? Where’s my blue orchid?” You asked and max furrowed his brows pointing to the flower you was looking at.

“You said it was dead?” You said and max and lando looked at each other even more confused.

“Oh my god. You fucking scared me! It’s not dead you guys! It’s just wilted” you gasped in relief and max held his chest in relief.

“Wait so you’re telling me it’s alive?” Max asked and you nodded “oh thank fuck.”

“So you panicked us the whole time and it was alive?” Lando said and max nodded with an awkward tight lipped smile.

“Oh my god I’m so happy you’re alive lucky…” you exclaimed as you cradled the flower in your arms.

“Max is never looking after you again.” You half-teased and max looked at the floor embarrassed

“I said I was sorry! How was I supposed to know it wasn’t dead?” Max argued and you rolled your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now. I just wanna sleep, I’m tired and my body hurts” you said tiredly since you and lando had literally just come back from qualifying.

“C’mon baby, let’s go to bed” Lando smiled holding his hand out for you which you took.

“Night max! Don’t go on any more killing sprees!” Lando teased and laughed when he heard max yell back “shut up lando”

-

Lando’s story updated

User1: THANK GOD

User2: OUR MASCOT IS OKAY! OUR BABY IS OKAY!

MercedesF1: thank god! You nearly gave the whole grid a panic attack! Shame on you max.

maxfewtrell: I said I was sorry 😔 no need to call me out like that

User3: I’m so lost. who is lucky?

User4: Lucky is y/n’s orchid

User5: lucky is our baby*

maxfewtrell: I apologise to all the lando and y/n fans…

landonorris: Get outta my comment section

User10: you better

User11: What did you do max?!

User12: how do you accidentally kill but not kill a flower?

User13: max our cute little murderer

User14: ^^ very mindful, very demure, very cutesy

User6: lando and y/n are so cuteeee

User7: what happened tho? She looked so upset

maxverstappen1: you gave me a mini heart attack when I read everyone’s tweets saying lucky died

georgerussell: I nearly died when I saw the tweets

User15: BRO WHO IS LUCKY?!

User16: lucky is y/n’s orchid

mclaren: so glad everyone is A-okay! 👌🏻

Carlossainz: I nearly dropped my phone when I saw fans tweets

User8: AHHH MY FAV COUPLE

User9: ITS *SHIPNAME*

I hope you enjoyed reading lol - this is in honour of my favourite flower

[fanficlibrary82]

Literal Hurt/Comfort

AN: I saw this post and had to write it or I'd go insane, so have my first attempt at writing the Merc with a Mouth; Soft Boyfriend Edition

Word Count: 912

CW: Mild language, night terror, hurt/comfort, this is a Worst!Wolverine x Deadpool, Rogue is the way she is in the movies

He was too late. Logan had finally managed to out drink his healing factor and stumbled back to the X-Mansion, only to find it littered with the bodies of his friends, his family. He walked the entire campus, trying, hoping to find a single living soul, but as the faces of Charles, Ororo, Hank, Scott, and Jean were found among the carnage, his flicker of hope began to fade. It wasn’t until he half heartedly pushed the door to Rogue’s room opened that his heart lept into his throat. He heard blood pumping, faintly, but it was there. Without a second thought he began to tear the room apart, looking for the girl, and he finally found her curled under the bed.

“Kid,” he slurred, tugging her out from under the bed and cradling her head in his lap. She was covered in blood, her body riddled with bullet wounds that oozed slowly, but she was alive. “K-kid, hey, ‘s gonna be alright, okay? You…you’re gonna be fine, we’ll get you to the city and-”

“You…left…us…” She rasped, eyes slowly finding his.

“I…I tried, kid, as soon as I heard the Professor, I-”

She took a gasping breath, the rattle in her voice an all too familiar sound to Logan. “You…you promised th-that you’d…take c-care of m…” 

Logan felt her body fall limp in his arms, but he didn’t let go, he couldn’t let her go. He pulled Rogue up against his chest, letting his forehead fall to hers. Her still-warm skin pulled a broken sob from his throat. He held her until her body grew stiff and cold. And that’s when the rage set in. He laid Rogue on top of the bed and made it a few steps into the hallway before his claws slid smoothly out of his knuckles. 

Logan let out an animalistic roar, foreign to even his own ears. He slashed everything in his path, from doors to portraits to tables, until he found himself in the Professor’s office. He stalked around the room, breath coming in short, heavy huffs that caused his chest to ache. He paused in front of a portrait of the first graduating class, their smiles wide, completely oblivious to the fate that awaits them. He snarls, slashing his claws through the canvas. If the humans think we’re just violent killers, then I’ll show them just how violent we can be.

Wade shot straight up as Logan screamed in his sleep and smacked him in the face. “Me H. Christ, Peanut, don’t scare me like that!” He gripped Logan’s arm and shook him roughly. Logan continued to cry out in his sleep, his arms beginning to flail wildly, as if fighting. Wade sat up on his knees, gently nudging Mary Puppins off of the bed. “Hey, big guy, watch that arm, you might hit-mother FUCKER!”

With a roar that was definitely more animal than man, Logan was sitting straight up, arms out, claws extended. He took a few heaving breaths as he whipped his head around the room in a panic. His eyes landed on his claws, knuckle deep into soft flesh and his expression fell. “N-no!”

Wade looks between the claws in his chest and the haunted expression on Logan's face before gently placing his hand over his unwilling attackers’. “You know, if you wanted to get inside me, all y'had to do was ask nice,” Wade teases.

Logan yanks his hand away from Wade's touch, retracting his claws and instantly covering the wounds with his hands. “No no no, fuck, no! Not again!” He exclaims.

Wade falls back against the bed and Logan follows, burying his face against the scarred skin. The older mutant’s shoulders shake and Wade tenses.

“Hey, hey, hey! Logan!” Wade pushes himself up onto his elbows and grabs at the other man’s shoulder. “Honey Badger, wake up, wake up, it's me!”

“I'm so fuckin’ sorry, I'm so sorry, god dammit,” Logan mutters, and Wade is hit with the awful realization that the Wolverine was lying across his chest and sobbing.

“Lo-James, look at me,” Wade manages to get his hands on either side of Logan's face and roughly yanks him up to meet his eye. “It's me, it's Wade, I'm okay, Peanut, look, look.” He slowly moves his hand over Logan's, gently guiding him to feel the skin that's already healed over. Logan's frantic gaze falls to Wade's chest and he smooths his hand across the surface, almost in a trance. “You're…you're not…?”

Wade shakes his head, gently rubbing his thumb across Logan's cheek. “Gonna take a lot more than that to kill me, Wolvie. You were in the Odyssey,” he replies with a soft chuckle.

Logan slowly comes out of his trance-like state, watery eyes finally meeting Wade's with clarity. “Wilson?”

Wade nods, relief flooding through his body when Logan looks at him rather than through him. “Hey, big guy, had me going for a minute there,” he nervously laughs.

“You're not…I didn't hurt you,” Logan breathes out shakily.

“Well…you didn't kill me,” Wade corrects, making Logan crack a smile. “Hurts like a bitch and a half, but at least I had you in me.”

Logan rolls his eyes and lets his head drop to Wade's chest. For a long while, the only sound is their combined breathing, so Wade dares to curl his fingers through Logan’s hair. When he hears no protest, Wade settles in, gently hugging him closer. “Don't worry, Lo. You're safe here.”

AN: Hey, I hope y'all liked it!!! Like I said, the idea came from the lovely @catgrandpa and the divider I used was made by @sweetmelodygraphics

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[joonie-beanie]

Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.

Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???

Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.

You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends. 

You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.

Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals. 

At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.

Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around. 

Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).

So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.

“Jesus Christ, Peter.”

You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.

With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.

Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.

Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.

“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.

“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants. 

“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”

You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.

“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”

Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.

“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”

“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to. 

“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”

“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”

You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” he says with a smile.

The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.

You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.

“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.

“Listen, this is way better than beer.”

Honestly, you can’t disagree.

“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”

It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”

Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.

“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”

Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.

Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.

“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.

“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”

“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”

“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”

Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.

After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like. 

At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.

“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.

“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”

Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.

You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”

“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”

Peter places a hand on his stomach.

“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.

“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.

Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—

His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off. 

“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.

“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”

He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh. 

Same ‘ol Peter.

Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons. 

No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.

And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now

Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.

…but like, what kind of side-gig?

Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go. 

You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is! 

And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??

“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.

Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.

Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.

And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.

But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode. 

So…he goes snooping. 

It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).

He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.

Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.

He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.

Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)

The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.

Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—

—and immediately slams it back down.

…veiny, pink, silicon—

Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.

All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)

Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.

A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.

Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.

…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.

“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything. 

He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.

In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”. 

Hi there! 

I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.

Thanks!

Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.

He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling. 

How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.

And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.

Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.

…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.

The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.

As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.

While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.

Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door. 

Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—

Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights. 

You stare at him in shock.

“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”

“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.

“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway. 

“I thought I told you to just trust me?”

You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word. 

“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?

“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet. 

He’s half hard. Fuck.

If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.

Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”

“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”

You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.

He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction. 

Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?

(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)

“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water. 

Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?

At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—

…wait.

Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.

Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.

“Did you read it…?”

Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.

Busted…

You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.

HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!

“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion. 

Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.

“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But…it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”

If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.

“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”

His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.

“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”

The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.

“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”

“Really?”

There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.

“You don’t think so?”

You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.

“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”

Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”

You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—

“Yeah? Show me then.”

You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move. 

Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.

You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.

Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—

Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.

“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you. 

You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.

You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back. 

You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.

It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.

Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.

“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.

“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.

“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”

(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.

“Think Spiderman whimpers?”

You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.

“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”

Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.

He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.  

“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.

He needs your tits in his mouth.

“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed. 

The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting. 

And, that’s exactly what he does.

He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.

You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.

You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—

“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving. 

Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants. 

“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.

You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.

Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—

“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”

“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.

“Maybe.”

Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.

Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.

Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.

He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.

Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.

His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.

“Shit.”

His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—

He presses a finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves. 

You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.

Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.

The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.

“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.

“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers. 

Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.

After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.

You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…

You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.

He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.

“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.

“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”

“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.

You sigh, scooting backwards.

“Fine.”

You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen. 

He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.

You can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.

“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.

“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.

“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.

By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.

“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.

“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.

“That’s fine. I’ll help.”

With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him. 

And god, you feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.

The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.

“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”

His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face. 

His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.

With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.

He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.

An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.

“Peter,” you sob into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”

As if you could stop.

Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.

The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you. 

You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.

“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”

Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.

“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”

You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.

He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.

“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him. 

“Mmmm, no?”

He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.

“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.

“Very. I…really missed that.”

“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.

“Same? You haven’t—?”

“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.

“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”

Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him. 

You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.

“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”

“Hey now—!” 

Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.

“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”

You sigh, wriggling around to face him.

“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”

“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom. 

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”

Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.

30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.

You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?

Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.

“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.

You bend over to pick it up.

Hey!

Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!

Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p

-PB

PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?

You can’t help but laugh.

What an idiot. 

But…you like him.

[luxurychristmaspudding]

The Immortals | On Call

summary: frankie tells the boys about you.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader. platonic triple frontier boys (minus tom lol)

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. mostly frankie pov. beers and a bbq. description of a panic attack. the boys shipping the bis.

wc: 2.7k

an: one more little thing before we send these guys off into the sunset <3 p.s. - apologies if you saw this last night - i posted it real late and then decided i hated it this morning lmao. thank you for your patience <3

series masterlist | main masterlist

divider from @saradika-graphics

Arrived safely! Margarita secured!

It’s the last text he has from you, accompanied by a photo of said cocktail held up next to your face as you grin at the camera, eyes lit warmly by the sun. He’s smiling at it, tapping out a fat-thumbed, slow response with the tongs in his other hand, distracted from the grill. So focused on you, he almost doesn’t notice Santi saunter up beside him. Almost, but by then it’s too late anyway.

He looks up at Will’s I swear to god, Fish, if you burn those sausages one more time- just as his phone is snatched from his hand, Pope lurching away as he tries to grab it back.

‘Oh!’ the shorter man yells, ‘I’ve got it! I know why he’s so dis-’ before Frankie yanks the device away from him. 

‘Knock it off,’ he grumbles, a little gruffer than he means it to be, but Pope only smiles wider, eyes full of mischief. Frankie stuffs the phone back in his pocket, and miles and miles away, you watch the tiny bubbles of a reply disappear before turning back to your friends.

‘Who is she?’ Santi goads, stepping closer to nudge him with his elbow. ‘Hot date?’

Frankie shakes his head, the tips of his ears warming.

‘Who’s who?’ Will asks from his chair, eyebrow raised as he takes a pull from his beer.

‘No- nothing.’ Frankie says, but his cheeks are aflame as he squints into the smoke of the barbeque. Santi notices, because of course he fucking does, pinching Frankie’s cheek as he coos -

‘Aw, come on, hermano. Who’s the lucky lady?’

Frankie lands a sharp elbow to his ribs, muttering a Fuck off, Pope, and Santi pulls away with a croak. 

‘What are we talking about? Who’s Frankie seeing?’ Will pipes up again.

‘Pretty lady’s sent Frankie a selfie,’ Santi grunts, massaging his side. ‘I wanna know who it is.’

Frankie grits his teeth. They know about you - of course they do. They knew about you from the moment you’d moved in. The cool new neighbour, the teacher, the new best friend, the babysitter. And they’d wanted to meet you. Smiling over the stories Frankie would tell them, replying to the pictures he’d send them of cookies, hama beads, Lego cities. 

‘We’re just friends,’ he says. 

The air is still for a moment before Will snorts. 

‘Bullshit.’ 

Frankie flips him off as Pope looses a gleeful chuckle, returning to his seat and his beer. 

‘We’ll wait,’ he says, ‘Plenty of time.’

Benny catches the end of it as he emerges from the back door, hopping down the porch steps with a fresh crate of beers in his hands. 

‘Time for what?’ He asks, dropping the box on the grass and cracking one open before bringing it to Frankie. 

‘Jesus Christ,’ he groans, taking it from the younger man with a grumbled thank you as he turns back to the grill.

Will and Santi are laughing, watching each other with sparkling eyes over the fire pit. 

‘Time for what?’ Benny asks again, looking between the men. 

‘Frankie’s got a lady friend. We’re trying to find out who it is.’

Benny swings back around to look at him, eyebrows high on his forehead as a slow smile spreads across his face. 

‘Oh?’ He grins, ‘Come on, Fish. We’re all friends here.’

Frankie shakes his head again, eyes fixed on the sausages. 

‘She’s not - it’s not - it’s not like that.’

‘So you’re fucking?’ 

Frankie whirls round to Santi. 

‘Pope.’ He hisses, brandishing the tongs at him. Santi holds up his hands. 

‘Then what?’

Frankie sighs, lowering the flame on the grill. 

‘That’s the neighbour,’ he says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of your house. ‘It’s her.’

They’re quiet. Too quiet. 

‘That’s your neighbour?’ Pope says, dumbfounded. 

‘Yes.’

‘But she’s -’

‘I know.’

Will shoots Santi a confused look. 

‘Way too good looking for our Fish, here.’

Benny points a finger at him, settling down in his seat the same time as Frankie. 

‘I’m taking that personally.’

‘Good.’ Will says. ‘Now, show us a proper picture, asshole.’

Frankie runs a hand over his face, cheeks burning. There’s a funny feeling in his gut - guilt, nerves, excitement. He looks them all over before Santi slaps his knee. 

‘Come on, cabròn. We’ve heard so much about her.’

So he shows them. Pictures of you and Lucia, you and him. Ones he took without you realising, moments where he just couldn’t help himself. And his favourite - you on his porch, beaming and squinting at the sunset. Warm and tired and beautiful after the beach, a single strawberry lace dangling from your fingers. 

It makes Will chuckle, Benny smile. Santi lets out a low whistle. 

‘So there she is.’ Will says, and Frankie can only grin back. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks tinged with pink. The blonde man cocks his head at him. ‘You like her.’

Frankie shrugs. 

‘You really like her.’ 

It’s quiet again for a moment, only the crackle of firewood to be heard. 

‘So. Are you fucking?’

The question earns Pope a sharp smack up the back of the head from Benny, Will shooting a Santiago across the flames. But all three of their faces turn back to Frankie. 

He looks up to the heavens. 

‘No,’ he says. ‘She had that breakup last year. And I don’t even think she’s into me like that.’

Benny laughs into his beer, taking a pull before speaking. 

‘No offence,’ he says, ‘But you wouldn’t know someone liked you if it hit you across the face.’

Will snorts, jerking his head in his brother's direction.

‘He should know.’

Frankie groans, leaning back in his chair, scrubbing at his cheeks. 

‘She drew the picture on your fridge.’ Benny says. It’s a statement, not a question. Frankie nods. ‘I think she likes you.’

‘You could tell from a picture?’ Will snarks, and Benny rolls his eyes. 

‘She drew ‘em all close together. So she either likes you or just - I dunno - likes you. Actually, maybe I have no idea.’

Pope chuckles. 

‘Miller, you are a true wordsmith.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Fuck off, Casanova.’

Still laughing, Santi knocks his beer against Frankie’s. He meets his eye.

‘Make sure she can come next time,’ Pope says, and Frankie pulls a face. ‘I’m serious. We’ve been waiting ages to meet her. She sounds cool. She sounds really fun -’

‘And we’ll help you work out whether she likes you or not.’ Will finishes. Frankie looks down at his feet, his shoes in the grass. He fiddles with the label on his bottle, thinks of what it would be like to have you here. Have you laughing at the jokes, swapping stories with the boys. Have Santi teaching you how to dance, have you sharing a whisky with Will, fucking around on the grill with Benny. And he’s sure they’d love you. So sure, in his heart, that it makes his stomach twist. His worlds blending together, the people he loves most in one place. You’d fit, as snuggly here, as you have next door.

‘I’ll ask her,’ he says, ‘When you come over next month. School will be out by then.’

When he looks up, Benny is smiling at him.

‘I’m looking forward to meeting her.’ He says.

He smiles back, all shy and excited, before Will clears his throat and nods in the direction of the barbeque.

‘Sausages better not be burning again, lover boy.’

The sausages are well-done, but edible. Frankie takes his time bringing them to the table, making sure to finally send you that text back.

You deserve it. Have fun, stay safe.

Your little face above it, grinning at him. The sight of it makes his heart swell - his heart hopeful. He scrolls back, above his safe travels text, to the last one you sent, also with a picture. Lucia’s stuffed whale - plush, pale blue, tucked up in the guest bed upstairs.

She’s given me a little friend in case I get lonely. Think I should take the hint?

He’d laugh-reacted to it at the time, in the midst of completing his paperwork for the evening before dashing back home. But now he wonders if there was more to it, a question he should have been brave enough to answer.

He can barely remember the blur and flash of the streetlights as he’d carved his way through the streets, the quiet of easing his way inside the house. You’d left the hallway lamp on so he wouldn’t trip over the array of shoes by the door, and he’d added his boots to them, right next to your trainers. 

The door had been locked, all lights off within seconds, before he’d crept up the stairs. The house silent and still around him, warmth right in the belly of his home. He’d checked on Lucia first. Cocooned in her duvet, only her face visible. Soft cheeks plump against her toy dog, her fingers curled around its scruffy neck as she breathed easily and deeply. Her book of bedtime stories on the dresser, dog-eared at the place where you’d finished reading to her. Her nightlight on, she’d smelled of lavender when he’d crouched to kiss her forehead, breathing in her curls. 

He’d stopped at the guest room next. Opened the door a crack to make sure you were okay, only hoping in the smallest way that you were still awake. Instead, he’d been greeted with the slope of your shoulders, covered by the t-shirt he’d insisted you borrow, the tangle of your hair. The way your leg was crooked at an angle, your hand beside your face on the pillow. Cheek smushed against the cotton as he watched your breathing, the sweet lax of your face as you slept. 

Something warmed in his stomach when he saw that you were, indeed, cuddling the whale Lucia had given you. It pulled at the strings of his memory, something you’d told him about sleeping with a stuffed animal into your late teens. He’d smiled. And then he went to bed.

He doesn’t remember what the dream was about. 

Could only see bursts of fire, darkness - could only hear shots and screams. Could only feel a deep, spiralling panic; a void that waits deep inside him, that creeps and bleeds sometimes into the night. 

And then he was awake.

Shivering, covered in sweat, his breathing heavy and ragged. Heart beating so fast he clawed desperately at his chest, trying to squeeze it, trying to silence it. 

And you were there.

Sat in front of him in his t-shirt, face taught with worry, hands out like you were approaching an animal.

Frankie, it’s me. It’s me, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re at home, you’re safe. You were dreaming. You were dreaming.

It was like he couldn’t see you at first. Eyes blank and wild, body heaving, pulling against the sheets wrapped around his legs. You’d stood to pull them off, to free him, still speaking in that soft, gentle tone. It’s me, you’re safe. 

You’d pulled his scrabbling hands from his chest and he’d let you, let you hold one tight as the other dropped away, as you’d placed your other palm to his heart. And fuck, it was going so fast. So fast you wanted to cry with worry, with the need to take this blind panic from him. You’d kept it there, firm, looking into his eyes, still speaking, waiting for him to come back. Trusting that he would.

And then there he was. Still sweaty, still gasping, but there was clarity. Recognition. His fingers slipped against yours before gripping them, clinging to them like you were pulling him out of it, out of some dark, faraway place.

I’ve got you. It’s me, you’re okay.

He’d nodded. Mouth trying to form his reply - okay, okay - Bug? - like he was pleading. You’d moved closer, hand sliding from his chest to his shoulder, and it was like his whole body surrendered. Shuddering as you held him close, as he cried with relief, with shame.

Everything he hid from Vanessa, everything he tried to hide from Benny, spilling and unspooling before you, and yet you didn’t flinch. Didn’t even bat an eye. 

You’d sat up with him most of the night. Talking it through. The blood, the bullets, the guilt. The drugs. What happened in Colombia, everything he hadn’t told you, told anyone. You held him through the shakes, box breathing together until his heart rate slowed.

You’d stayed. Quiet and warm, solid against him, an arm wrapped around his waist.

He could never usually sleep after a nightmare. But he did with the soft sweep of your fingers on his forehead. 

When he woke, you were gone. A sorrowful feeling in his chest, one which tugged at his lips. Fixed as soon as you knocked on his door with tea, when you sat next to him and ran your fingers through his curls.

He pulled you down next to him, holding you tight to his body, staring up at the ceiling.

‘I’m sorry.’ He’d said.

‘Don’t ever be sorry, Frankie.’ You’d breathed into his chest.

He didn’t need to know how you cried in the guest room after you’d left him. Didn’t need to know how much it hurt watching him hurt, doesn’t need to know about the guilt, the gratitude you feel every time he picks you up and pieces you together. Doesn’t need to know how you’ve worried you won’t ever be able to do the same for him.

He doesn’t know how you laid beside him in agony for hours. Scared to leave, scared to stay. How you’d longed to lay there with him, but feared it would be too much to wake up beside him. Wondered whether you were weird for thinking it would be too much, knowing you’d think nothing of it if he were someone else. 

And you don’t know how he pulled the pillow you rested on closer, inhaled the scent. How he dreamed of kissing you awake. 

The logs crackle in the fire pit, the only light in the garden bar the string lights looped through the trees back to the porch.

It’s been quiet for a while, though he can still hear Pope and Will in the kitchen, chattering about some baseball game. Benny clears his throat from the chair beside him.

‘I’m happy for you.’

It shouldn't do, but it surprises him. In the years that have passed since the heartbreak between them, Frankie has only ever wanted good things for the man he loved. 

He should have known Benny would feel the same.

He shakes his head.

‘Ben, we don’t even know if -’

Benny holds up a hand.

‘Regardless,’ he says, ‘I’m happy for you, Fish. I’m so - glad you have her next door. And I really hope it turns into something.’

Frankie swallows, a knot pulling tight in his throat.

‘I’ve got a good feeling about it.’

He chuckles.

‘Thank you.’

Benny smiles, the firelight glinting in his eyes. Still handsome, just not the person meant for him.

‘How does she make you feel?’

Frankie shoots him a look, and he shrugs.

‘I have a theory. Humour me.’

Fish rolls his eyes, but the answer is easy. He says it into the flames.

‘Safe. Warm. Good.’

Important. Loved. Understood. 

He lets the words hang there for a moment, wishing you were here. Wishing for you to come through the front door right now and never leave.

When he turns his head, Benny is looking at him with the gentlest smile he’s ever seen. It makes his throat burn, his eyes water.

‘Do I get to know the theory?’

Benny shakes his head, picking at his bottle label, that small smile still there. He takes a deep breath.

‘I don’t know how she feels about you. Not yet. But, Frankie - I’m glad you found each other.’

It lands right in his heart, the goodness that it’s delivered with. And he thinks Benny’s right. 

Obviously right - you mean so much more than he could ever have imagined. But you found each other. Led, perhaps, by things he hasn’t always believed in. Fate, stars, ghosts. Everything that came before that didn’t fit quite right - Vanessa, Benny, Annie. Parts of wholes who loved parts of wholes.

But he knows, knew from that moment on his porch after the beach - that huge, swooping feeling - that he loves you, wholly.

That he understands, now, just how much good two people can do for each other. 

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): discussion of disability

Word Count: 2200, Part 2/?

Author's Note: I was able to finish chapter 2! I'm sorry for the massive delay since positing any writing, it's been a time recently. I'll keep doing my best but pls don't hold it against me if I don't post for a while again. I still care about Regina so so much. Thank you to bestie @sapphicantics for helping me go back to this and reading it first :P

Summary: Reader goes over to Regina's house to work on some more chemistry lessons.

Part 1

Friday’s chemistry lecture was cut off by the dismissal bell and the teacher frustratingly called out as students were already busting through the door, “quiz on Monday! Don’t forget and study hard this weekend!” 

You were packing up your notes when five perfectly manicured fingernails rapped on the corner of your desk. 

You looked up and met the blonde's eyes. 

“So quiz on Monday, can I get some extra tutoring this weekend?” 

You nodded slowly, “do you want me to come to your place?” 

“I do.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want -“ 

“I already told you, yes. Stop being so weird about it. Tomorrow. Come over around lunchtime. My mom will feed us then we can work.” 

You bit your lip and then nodded again, “okay.” 

Regina gave you her version of a smile and then flicked her hair behind her shoulder as she left the classroom. 

You saw that the teacher had been watching your exchange.

“It’s working,” they said, “whatever you’re doing. Her homework was better.” 

“You definitely can’t tell me that.” 

“Just keep it up. She’ll be okay.” 

You smiled and nodded, hugging your books to your chest and leaving the classroom. 

After a twenty-five minute walk, you were standing at the end of the driveway to the George residence. 

You looked up at the massive house in awe. It was clearly a new build. Likely custom-designed by the Georges. Two stories. Huge yard. You imagined an underground pool and a deck with a built-in, year round jacuzzi in the back. A movie theater and second kitchen in the basement. A yoga room with a Peleton for Ms. George. Master bath with a soaking tub. 

You were afraid to go in. 

You stood outside and stared for a minute longer before finally walking up the driveway (not made of asphalt or cement, but pristine white rocks). You walked past Regina’s Jeep, a Mercedes, and an Audi all parked (as well as a children’s Barbie Jeep abandoned in the lawn, belonging to Regina’s younger sister you assumed). 

You giggled at that. You imagined Regina either beaming with pride or fuming with rage at the idea of her little sister wanting a matching car to Regina. 

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the front door and waited for a moment, hearing a faint “get the door!” from inside.

Regina opened the door, “hey, did you find parking on the street?” 

“Oh, I didn’t drive.”

“Someone dropped you off then? Do you have a ride home after?” 

You shook your head, “I walked.” 

“What the fuck?” 

A woman called out from inside the house, “Regina! Language!” 

Regina clenched her jaw and inhaled slowly through her nose, flaring her nostrils. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you responded quietly. 

Regina rolled her eyes, “I’ll drive you home when we’re done, Jesus Christ.” 

“You really don’t have to drive me home, it’s okay.” 

“Shut up, it’s literally nothing. Now come inside you weirdo.” 

You followed Regina in, and the interior of the house was even more grand than the exterior. 

You didn’t have much time to take it all in before Regina’s mom was pouncing on you and pulling you into a hug then holding your shoulders and examining you head to toe, “well aren’t you a cute little thing!? I love meeting Regina’s new friends.” 

“She’s my tutor mom.” 

“Cute and smart, then! Well I hope the two of you become friends, Regina needs good influences in her life.” 

“Mom.” 

Ms. George raised her hands in mock-surrender, “Sorry! I’m just trying to be helpful, my goodness.” 

You tried to force a smile and fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket awkwardly. 

“Did you make us snacks?” 

“Oh yes!” Ms. George trotted back into the kitchen and came back with a tray stacked with a variety of finger foods and fruity little drinks complete with excessive garnishes. She passed the tray to you, “here you ladies go. Study hard!” 

“Thanks,” Regina didn’t wait around any longer before starting up the staircase to the second floor and expecting you to follow behind.

“Um, it was nice meeting you!” You directed to Ms. George, “you have a beautiful home.” 

“Thank you sweetie-“ 

“Hurry up.” Regina cut her mom off while standing at the top of the steps with a hand on her hip.

You rushed up the rest of the steps and followed Regina into her room. She immediately went to her floor-length mirror and adjusted her hair while you set the tray of snacks down on her vanity. 

“Not there,” Regina snapped, as if it was obvious.

“Where then?” 

Regina pointed lazily toward the ottoman at the foot of her bed and you obeyed, setting the tray down and then helping yourself to a handful of homemade trail mix. 

Regina came over and sat down on her bed and grabbed a single celery stick to eat. 

You must have made a face that Regina noticed because she raised an eyebrow at you, “what?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you making that face?” 

“Oh, nothing, I just don’t like celery.” 

“You don’t have to eat it.” 

“I know, Regina.” You could feel yourself shrinking as your shoulders slumped. 

“It’s like negative calories so.”

“Well, actually…” 

Regina narrowed her eyes at you.

“Nevermind. So, do you want to work on material for the quiz?” 

Regina threw herself backwards and collapsed into her duvet in exasperation, “ugggghhhh!” 

“That’s why you wanted me to come over, right?” 

“Well duh… I’m just tired.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Regina propped herself up on her elbows and looked at you, “for what?” 

“That you’re tired?” 

She scoffed, “you don’t need to be sorry about that. See? You’re too nice.” 

You shrugged, “I guess it’s just something people say.” 

“Oh? So you agree, then? That niceness is a facade that people use to disguise their true feelings?” 

You shook your head, incredulous, “I didn’t say that.”

“Are you really, actually sorry that I’m tired or are you just saying it, then?“ 

You took a beat to think and then answered emphatically, “I am actually sorry. It’s called empathy. I feel bad that you feel rundown, and if you aren’t up for studying today, I would understand.” 

She raised an eyebrow again in her classic fashion, “I guess I just really don’t understand that. Why would you feel bad that I’m tired? And why wouldn’t you be upset if I wasn’t in the mood to study after you put in the effort to walk all the way here?” 

“I don’t know why, that’s just how I feel. What should I say instead? I don’t care that you’re tired, suck it up I’m here to make you better at chemistry?” 

“Maybe you should,” Regina shrugged. 

You shook your head, “I don’t want to say that. That’s not helpful to anyone. Are you going to retain any of the content we go over if I push you to do it when you don’t feel good?” 

“How do you know I’m not lying or just complaining for the sake of it? Maybe I need to be pushed.”

“Fine, give me a reason then. Why are you tired?” 

Regina thought about it for a minute, then her voice came out surprisingly quiet, “you know the accident from last year? The bus thing?” 

You nodded. 

She sighed, “It’s been a long recovery. I don’t usually talk about it with anyone.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t feel comfortable, but… I am here if you did want to. Talk about it, I mean.” 

Regina didn’t say anything. She started to pick at the skin around her fingernails. 

You recognized the behavior right away because you do it too. Without thinking, you moved to sit across from her on the bed and reached out, clasping your hand around hers. 

The blonde stared at you shocked. 

“Shit, I… I’m sor-“ you began, starting to pull away. 

She didn’t let you go, “It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” 

The gesture must have cracked her armor, if only a little. She shrugged her shoulders and explained, “the accident injured my neck and back so I’m doing physical therapy twice a week for that and I’ve been diagnosed with something called POTS. So my heart is all fucked up or something. I'm exhausted and in pain most of the time even though I'm taking like six different meds every day.” 

“That sounds really hard.”

“But I feel like…” her voice failed her. She frowned, cleared her throat, and started again, “I feel like I shouldn’t complain about it… wouldn’t be cute to bitch about it when everyone…” she lowered her head and stared at her comforter, “when everyone thinks I probably deserved it.” 

You frowned and squeezed her hand, “do you think you deserved to get hit by a bus?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. It feels that way sometimes. Like I was supposed to learn some kind of lesson from it. Like I was supposed to suddenly be a better person and be grateful and be an inspiration or whatever. But that’s like some biblical bullshit. And I’m not a better person. I'm still just me but now my body doesn’t work and people don’t even bother pretending to like me anymore.” The dam had burst. The corners of her eyes started to sting with painful tears. “I’m not grateful. I don’t think what happened to me was an inspiration or whatever. I just wish I wasn’t sick and I wish that people didn’t expect anything from me.” With that, she retracted her hands from you, quickly wiped her face with her sleeves and she continued to look anywhere but right at you.

“Regina, thank you for sharing that with me. I want to help you as much as I can.”

“Why, though?”

“Because I want to.”

Regina met your eyes again, scrutinizing you. Trying to find deception that wasn’t there. 

When she finally gave up she just said, “I don’t understand you.”

You laughed, “I’ve gathered that.”

She smiled and then rolled her eyes.

“Hey, do me a favor, okay? Go change into something comfy and then lets just watch something for a bit. Whatever you want. We can recharge a little and then see about studying, and if it doesn’t happen, it’s okay.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes.”

Regina breathed a sigh of relief and then visibly relaxed before getting up and walking to her large closet. She came back out a few minutes later, having changed into baggy sweats. She wordlessly sat down at her vanity, tied her hair up in a loose bun, cleaned her makeup off and then replaced her contact lenses with glasses. 

You smiled to yourself while watching her. She caught you looking over in the mirror and you quickly looked away before seeing her reaction if any. 

When she came back to the bed, laptop in hand, she said, “I’d usually never let anyone see me like this.”

“Well, then I consider myself lucky. Unless you don’t plan on letting me leave here alive now that I’ve seen you ‘like this,’” putting air quotes around your words.

“Cheeky…” Regina smirked and sat back down on the bed next to you, constructing a pile of pillows against the headboard to lean on, “you wouldn’t know until it was too late, though.”

You smiled as she continued.

“I guess I just don’t really care right now.”

“Well, I’m glad that you feel at ease with me. Not that you’re any less pretty than before.”

“You liar!”

“What? I’m not lying!”

“I’m not pretty right now. I’m all puffy and my hair is gross and I have my stupid glasses on and I’m wearing my mom’s old college sweatshirt.”

You shrugged, “you are pretty, Regina. You have freckles, I didn’t know that. And your hair looks cute like this, the little strands framing your face… I don’t know, you look pretty to me.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at you and then shook her head, “okay, whatever. Let’s just… watch something now.” She redirected her attention to opening up streaming on her laptop, “have you ever seen Real Housewives?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh my god. Okay I’m catching up on New Jersey right now, I’ll try to fill you in.”

You smiled and nodded. 

She started the show and slid a little closer to you so that she could rest the laptop on both of your laps. 

You ended up watching the show all evening, only interrupted by Ms. George bringing some dinner upstairs for you both along with Regina’s meds.

“Sweetheart, you look… comfortable.” Ms. George remarked, her tone unmistakably judgemental. 

The corners of Regina’s mouth downturned just slightly.

“Yeah you know we just decided to have a relaxing night. No need to be all done up.” You smiled, “thank you so much for bringing us food, Ms. George.” 

The woman was thrown off and you felt victorious.

“Oh, of course. I’ll… go get you girls some popcorn.” Ms. Geroge left and shut the door behind her. 

Regina released a breath she was holding and whispered, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… for what you just did.”

You shrugged and took a bite of food, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Regina’s eyebrows raised and then she just laughed in disbelief before turning the show back on and saying, “you continue to surprise me…”

Next Chapter

[chukys-mouthguard]

The Hills

Genre: angst, smut, fluff ending

Warnings: toxic relationship, fighting, sexual conduct, 18+ minors dni, Matthew loving praise and compliments

Featuring: matthew tkachuk x female reader

Summary: you and matt fight hard…but when the fighting is hard, the making up is so much harder ;)

Note: in honor of the panthers win, i figured today would be the day i post this. Haven’t written smut in awhile so fingers crossed it’s not awful

You ran your hand through your hair as you watched Matthew skate off the ice. He’d just gotten into a bench clearing brawl that resulted in him being ejected from the game. While him being a pest and occasionally fighting was part of his game you were used to, it didn’t mean you had to like it. And sure, you obviously come to games to support the team. But it sucks having to sit in the stands while your boyfriend is hitting the showers early. 

“Y/n, you okay?” 

You looked over at Sam Reinhart’s girlfriend, trying to muster up a smile but she could see right through you. “I just hate when he does this shit. Cause now I get to deal with him at home.” Once there was a stoppage in play you threw your bag over your shoulder and stood up, “I’m going down early.” The girls not blaming you, they knew your relationship with Matthew all too well by now and when you both were in your moods, it was best to let you be. 

Things with Matthew were great 60 percent of the time, 40 percent of the time you often wondered why the hell you two were together. You’d been together 3 years now and yet the fighting only seemed to get worse. But on the flip side, so did everything else. The sex, the romance, everything seemed heightened the longer you two stuck it out. 

Making your way down to the family area you knew you’d be waiting awhile, with Matthew only having been ejected in the second period. But you wanted to be by yourself, your frustration and anger not fair to take out on the girls who were trying to enjoy the rest of the game. You helped yourself to the complimentary drinks, though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea with you already being frustrated. Alcohol was just adding gasoline to the fire. 

buzz buzz

Picking up your phone you saw Matthew’s name flash across the screen, meaning he’d finished showering and getting any medical attention after his fight. 

“Where ya at?”

“Family area.”

Turning your attention back to the game being broadcast on the large tv’s in the area, you hadn’t noticed Matthew walking over to you. “Fucking 6 drinks? Jesus Christ, is the game that bad?” He chuckled as he grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. “Yeah, it fucking sucks when your boyfriend gets thrown out in the second period and I’m left watching anyone but him.” He rolled his eyes at you as he turned his attention to the screens. His fingers intertwining with yours as he stood with you for a bit, needing to leave in the last few minutes to be in the locker room with the boys for the post game talk from coach. 

He kissed your head before leaving, “maybe fix the attitude before I come back out huh? I’m not in the mood for the bullshit tonight.” You rolled your eyes as you flashed him a fake smile, the drinks hitting you all at once and you were also not in the mood, but you knew it was inevitable. The two of you already egging each other on. 

“Have a good night guys, see you Monday.” 

Matthew called to his teammates before meeting you at the end of the hall to head to the car. Your six drinks definitely had you a bit more than tipsy, and he could tell. Simply ignoring it as he took your hand in his, not wanting to start a fight at the rink in front of anyone. The walk to the car silent, but once the doors closed, he unloaded on you. 

“Are you fucking serious? Getting drunk, by yourself? In front of god knows who from the organization! Do you think? Sometimes I truly don’t get what goes through your head or convinces you to do this shit.” 

“You!” 

Without hesitation you spat back at him as you threw your bag into the backseat. Resting your head on your fist as you leaned against the window, not wanting to look at Matthew. 

“Me? I make you drink and make a fool of yourself? I’d love to know how the fuck I do that.” 

“Because I’m dating a guy who loves to start shit. To play dirty, take cheap shots, get in dumb ass fights for fun on the ice and he gets thrown out. I can never enjoy a game and cheer you on like all the other girls get to do.” 

His grip on the steering wheel tightening as he tried to bite his tongue. Knowing you were drunk made it hard to be truly angry with you, because you were spitting out harsh digs. But he knew this was coming from a place of hurt within you, and he knew to take some of it for what it was. 

The rest of the ride was silent, Matthew trying to cool off while you were trying to bite your tongue and not say another drunken fueled slew of harsh comments. 

As he pulled into the garage, he took the key from the ignition before looking at you frustrated. His voice coming out calm but stern as he spoke, letting you know he was upset and more importantly, he was hurt. 

“If you feel like you have no reason to be proud of me, or to cheer for me. Then, don’t fucking come! Stop coming to games. Stop wearing my jersey, or any of the custom game day shit I buy for you. Because if you’re not proud to be my girlfriend and support me, whether I’m scoring goals or getting in fights, then I don’t want you wearing any of that shit. Pretending like you support me when really you wish I was something else.” 

Before he could say anything else, you stormed off and into the house. Immediately heading to your closet in your bedroom and pulling out any of the gameday jackets and jerseys Matthew had ever gotten you. Matthew soon trailing after, only to find you halfway down the stairs with a handful of clothes. Taking them to the backyard and tossing them in the fire pit, Matthew sprinting after you to stop the drunken act from going any further. 

“You don’t want me to wear these? Fuck you! Then no one is ever gonna get to wear these again!” 

Luckily Matthew had gotten to you before you dared light the fire pit and send the clothes up in flames. You tried fighting him but his grip on your waist was too strong, pulling you away from the fire pit as you began to cry. 

The way Matthew held you could back you down from whatever cliff you were on. His embrace immediately relaxing your entire body as you cried in his arms. He just held you, not bothering to acknowledge what you were about to do in your drunken rage. Letting you have as long as you needed to calm down. 

“I hate you, so much. How could you say that you don’t want me to come?” He shushed you as he helped you back to your feet, leading you inside. “Y/n, you have no right to criticize the way I play this sport. You’re making it about you when you know this is how I play my game. I was brought here, because of how I play. I’m successful in this league, for how I play my game. And I know you don’t mean any of this shit you’re saying tonight. But I’m not going to forget it. That shit hurts feeling like my own girlfriend doesn’t even support me.” 

The tone of his voice immediately sobering you up. The last thing you ever wanted to do tonight was this, but once again, it was like the two of you fighting had become inevitable these days. You didn’t know what it was that made you two constantly get on one another’s nerves. It was like fighting had become your love language. Because the stronger the fight, the stronger you two made up. 

Matthew had left you in the kitchen as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom, then into your shared closet. Tossing his tie to the floor before discarding his suit jacket and dress shirt with a sigh. He’d be lying if he said he never questioned why you two constantly did this, the fighting like crazy. Spitting harsh things to one another before always making up in the end. There’s no way it was healthy, but he loved you more than anything, and the second he ever thought of just walking away, he’d immediately regret even thinking about it to begin with. 

He hadn’t even heard you enter the closet, slightly flinching as your arms snaked around his waist. Resting your head on his back as your hands ran up his stomach and over his chest.  Not sure if you should attempt to apologize or not, waiting for some type of reaction from him to be your sign. 

“Are you done?”

His tone a bit harsh as he relaxed more into your touch. “Matty I’m so fucking sorry. I, it’s not an excuse, I was drunk, and upset. But, you know I’m so fucking proud of you. I should have never said any of those things to you. Should never have even thought of burning those clothes. That all was so stupid.” 

He somewhat chuckled as he listened to you apologize, his mind not even focused on the last hours events, just focusing on getting past it all. 

He turned to face you, seeing you’d been crying downstairs, brushing you hair from your face before resting a hand on your cheek.

“We can’t keep doing this, fighting like crazy. Being so awful to one another just to turn around and say we didn’t mean it. There’s clearly something going on making us act this way. I don’t know if we get off on the fighting, but we can’t keep doing it. Especially after the shit you said tonight. You were ready to burn all of those clothes I’d gotten for you. I’ve never seen you like that. And that hurt.” 

Your gaze dropping to the floor as you felt embarrassed, ashamed even of getting so drunk and taking out your frustrations on Matthew. It was stupid to be mad at him for getting ejected, because you know this is how he plays. You’ve known him to be this way since you started dating, and to compare him to anyone else is unfair. 

“Baby I’m sorry. I’m so fucking proud of you. Every day, I’m proud of you. You fucking played in the playoffs last year with a broken sternum! While I found that hot as fuck that you fought through the pain, it did scare me at times. But you’re right, this is who you are. And I love that about you. I love seeing you slam guys to the ice, stick up for your teammates, and get to play the game you love as your job.” 

Your compliments always working wonders on Matt, and it wasn’t that they were disingenuous. It was the way you complimented him that just did something to him. Hearing you say how hot he looks when he’s in the middle of a scrum, or when he lays a big hit. He’d let you compliment him for hours. 

“Keep going.” He smirked down at you with a cocky grin, letting you know his anger was subsiding. His hands now moving to your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I mean, you did look pretty hot beating the shit out of that guy tonight. Your mouth guard hanging out of the side of your mouth as you took him to the ice.” Your fingers playing with the curls of hair on his chest as you bit your lip. 

“And don’t get me started with how sexy you looked sitting in the penalty box, legs spread apart as you caught your breath. I can’t tell you badly I wish I could’ve come in there and climbed right in your lap.” 

He moaned as your hand traveled down to the bulge that was growing in his dress pants. “Well, who says you can’t still have your chance to climb in my lap tonight?” 

Without warning he picked you up by your thighs, your legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed and letting you have your moment in his lap. “How’s that feel baby?” 

Grinding your hips so your ass painfully circled over his rock hard erection that was practically bursting through the seams of his dress pants. “Mmm, it’s amazing, but I think you might need to take those pants off. Feels like your zipper is about to pop.” 

Slowly climbing off of him, you took your place on your knees as his hands flew to the buckle of his belt. Getting it undone and off, making your job easier. Making sure to palm him through his pants on your way to the button and zipper. Pulling his pants and boxers down in one motion as his cock sprang out and slapped his stomach. The sight mouth watering for you and you couldn’t wait to have him. 

Matthew’s hands immediately grabbing fistfuls of your hair as he guided you down his length. Holding you as you deepthroated him. A low groan coming from his lips as his head fell back. 

“Fuck me, y/n. You’re such a good girl for me.” 

His words of encouragement going right to your core as you clenched your thighs, feeling your pussy pulse. As much as you wanted him to have his way with you, you knew that you needed to make up for the shit you pulled earlier. 

Your head now bobbing up and down on his length as his hips were thrusting to meet your mouth, the expletives pouring from his lips before he forced you down, taking all of him once again. 

“Jesus Christ baby, you’re such a good girl taking all of me in your mouth like that.” He pulled you from his length, pulling you to your feet as he stood up. Looking down at you with lust filled eyes before swapping your places. 

“Get these clothes off.” 

Matthew working on your bottoms as you handled your top half. By the look in his eyes you knew you were in for some serious teasing. His favorite way to get back at you for nights like tonight. 

He trailed kisses up your thighs before brushing his scruff over your core, causing your hips to buck against him. “Mmm, someone is needy tonight huh? Too bad you’re gonna have to be really patient.” 

You groaned as he kissed and touched everywhere except where you needed him. But you knew if you tried to lead him in that direction, he’d only do the opposite. 

Matthew loved how needy you’d get, seeing the want in your face as he teased you. His fingers lightly tracing your slit, feeling how wet you were for him. Taking his fingers to his mouth and tasting you. 

“Tell me what you want baby, I wanna hear you beg.” 

Where did you start? You wanted it all, and you wanted it now. Your brain couldn’t pick one thing, your thighs pressing together in need or some form of pressure at your core. 

Matthew pushed your thighs apart as he found his place between them. “I guess I get to pick huh? Make sure you tell me what feels good baby. You know I love hearing you.” He smirked before lowering himself down, hooking his arms around your thighs before his tongue traced up your slit.

“Fuck…oh my goddddd.” Your eyes rolling back as you arched your back. His touch feeling like fire as you tried your best to deepen the contact. Needing more. 

He smirked against you as he focused on your clit. His tongue lapping up your wetness as he quickly slipped two fingers inside. A gaps catching in your throat as you immediately began grinding with his rhythm. “Mmm, yes baby.” He felt himself getting harder by the second at you grinding against him while his fingers thrust in and out of you. His tongue not stopping as your hands burried in his curls. 

“Yes Matthew, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop. God you make me feel so good.” Your back arching even further off the bed as you felt your release close, moans and expletives continuing to pour from your lips. 

Picking up his pace as he felt you close, Matthew locked eyes with you. Lust filling his orbs as his fingers turned their efforts to your clit. The sensation too much as your hips bucked and legs began to shake, your breath short as you tried holding in your screams. 

“You think I can make you squirt for me tonight baby? Show me what a good job I’m doing?”

“God fuck, yes Matty. I wanna squirt for you so bad. Please!” 

Matthew quickly pressed his mouth back to your clit as his fingers thrust back inside you, riding you through this orgasm. Your entire body shaking as you kept your eyes locked with his, watching as you felt your release coming. Squirting all over him as his fingers never stopped. Draining you completely as you tried to catch your breath, his fingers now in his mouth as he tasted you. 

“Fuck you’re delicious baby. Now get back in my lap.” 

Sensing you were in a daze of lust and overstimulation, Matt picked you up, flipping you over and into his lap. Groaning at the feeling of your dripping pussy gliding along his length. 

The two of you taking a second to catch your breath before you lined his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding down to adjust to him as you both let out a moan, taking all of him inside. “Fuck baby, I don’t think I’m lasting long tonight. You’ve got me so close already. Fuck me and show me what a good girl you are.” 

And with that you pushed him back on the bed as you used his chest to support you, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock. His hands gripping your hips and slamming you down harder. He groans now deep as he could barely hold back, he thrusts sloppier as he reached his peak. 

“Matty, fuck me. I know you need it baby. I need it. Give it to me please. I love when you pound my pussy baby.” 

He pulled you down into his chest, wrapping his arms around you before he began to take over. Pounding your pussy as hard as he could, as fast as he could. Needing to give you what you needed, to get what he needed. Moans pouring from his lips as he held you tighter, your pussy dripping as you could barely breathe. 

“Where do you want it baby? I’m gonna cum.” 

“Anywhere, just give it to me please.” 

He delivers a few more hard sloppy thrusts before moving you off of him, “knees.” He instructs you to find your place on the floor as he stands above you, his wrist quickly jerking his length as his hips buck and a soft groan erupts from him. 

You’d taken his length in your mouth as he thrusted forward towards you. Taking all of him as he bucked his hips, emptying his release into your throat as you swallowed it all. “Fuck…me.” As you made sure you’d gotten every drop, you slowly pulled yourself from him. Matthew falling back onto the bed as he caught his breath. 

“You’re fucking amazing baby.” He helped you up and pulled you in for a kiss, giving you a little spank on your ass. 

“Now, go get all of those clothes out of the fire pit and then I’ll help you get cleaned up.” 

[roanniom]

Hey! I just saw your post about Eddie Munson on consent is sexy, and it's just 100% yes! Wonderful brain, you have!! Just wanted to share this with you (food for thought, NOT a request): I bet he'd love the opposite, too. Like if his partner was on top and started doing all the consenty things to him that he usually does. I feel like he'd love that.

Aw thanks, glad you like the original blurb about Eddie finding consent sexy!

Eddie Munson Thinks Consent is Sexy (pt. 2)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, unprotected/PIV sex, a lil bit of role reversal and a teeny bit of sub!Eddie

I actually have this feeling that Eddie would love it secretly but would also be frustrated by the way it delays you from using him.

“This okay, handsome?” you ask as you straddle him. He’d been reading a book but the second you hover over him he’s tossing it to the side and grabbing your hips to pull you down, making all of your weight rest on his thighs.

“Of course it is, princess!”

You make out like teenagers for a bit until you take the initiative to work your way down his neck. You press a delicate kiss to his pulse point.

“Okay if I mark you up a bit?” you whisper, causing him to shiver.

“Please,” he all but moans. You suck and nibble on both sides of his neck and down the column of his throat. Making sure he’s a whimpering pile of mush beneath you.

Except for his cock. That’s rock hard and pushing against you with each impatient roll of his hips.

“Can I take this off?” you ask, toying with the neckline of his faded Metallica t shirt.

“Yes,” he nods frantically.

Your kisses trail down his stomach till you run out of room and begin guiding him to move and lay down on his back on the couch. You make eye contact and smile when he moves swiftly to accommodate you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, alright?” You say, teasing a finger under the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Yeah. Yeah do it.” It’s a grunt as he watches you do so. Watches the way his thick cock springs out and smacks against his stomach. You smile at his lack of boxers and ghost your fingers against the skin of his abdomen.

“Can I play with your cock?”

“For the love of Christ yes, please. Jesus, you can do anything, you don’t have to ask.” He’s flushed dark red and his eyes are wide.

“But, Eds,” you hum, letting your hand slide over his balls and along his length, relishing in the way it twitches. “I need to ask to make sure you want it.”

At the end of your sentence you lean down to lick a long stripe up his shaft, ending with a wet kiss to his head. Eddie drops his head back against the arm of the couch.

“Fuck yeah I want it.”

You grin up at him and kiss a trail back up his body.

“Yeah? You want it, big boy?” you ask breathily, taking his cock in your hand and beginning to stroke it. You lean over him, the glowing sun above his awed earth. He blinks stupidly.

“Yeah.”

The bravado is gone. Melted into nothing. Just earnestness remains as you make him feel so good.

“Can I ride you, Eds?” you ask, nodding along sympathetically when he nods.

“Please fucking ride me. Please.”

How you’d been able to dissolve this playfully dominant man into a moaning, begging mess on a casual Wednesday afternoon is beyond you, but you are absolutely living for the contrast. You push up his shirt to lick and kiss the tattoos on his chest before pulling your panties aside beneath your skirt and sinking down on him.

His brow immediately knits and his eyes close in pleasure as you pet at his hair.

“So pretty, Eds.”

He cracks an eye open and laughs.

“No you are.”

“We can both be pretty,” you amend with a shrug, beginning to move up and down his fat cock. He groans and squeezes at your thighs.

“That’s impossible,” he argues. It’s your turn to laugh.

“Of course it’s not. Couples in porn are pretty. It’s totally possible.”

“What I’m hearing you say is that you want me to go grab a video camera so if you’d just hold on— oh fuck.” You start bouncing up and down more vigorously and he completely loses his train of thought.

He gets lost quickly in the slide, the slap, the rhythm, the friction. The wet sound of your need for him and the soft pants that fall from your lips, betraying the way you, too, are falling apart behind the facade of your control.

You’re both more or less still clothed, fabric just bunched and pulled to the side to make way for wandering hands and errant kisses.

You end up draped over him, languidly rolling your hips as you kiss him. Sweetly. Softly and in contrast to the way you’d bounced on him at first. It’s your tongue in his mouth. Your hand on his jaw. It’s got him swooning and whining and gripping you with a solid might.

“Eddie, can I cum?” You ask against his cheek, pulling back from a particularly deep kiss. You’re still asking for consent, but this time the nature of it is reversed. Eddie’s hazy eyes do their best to focus and he nods.

“Please cum, princess. I want you to.”

You give him the same permission moments later, met with a flurry of thanks and praise from the sweet, happy man beneath you.

~*~

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—

—-

Thanks for reading, please reblog and comment to let me know what you think!

[janeyseymour]

As per your request! I just copied and pasted it from my comment!!

Also. Love your stories. Love it when you post them. They’re just always so short!! I’m so greedy! I always want more!! I’m always full of ideas so if you need any just ask. (I feel like you don’t need them though you do so well writing!) I’m far to ADHD to actually write any of them so happy for you to create the magic lol

They randomly meet a few weeks/months later in a coffee shop and sit down and chat… or she just happens to Bert her bestie Ava at the school hoping to get a glimpse of her!!

I dunno. You’re the artist! As long as it’s happy and smooshy!! 🥰

Thank you for your sweet, sweet words! As requested, here is part 2! I definitely didn't follow the prompt at all, but this is what I came up with, and I hope it's okay!

Enchanted- pt 2

Part 1

WC: ~2.4k

You went to text Ava the next day after meeting Melissa, but you just couldn’t find the courage. So here you are, still just sitting at your desk job, thinking about her. Your mind is filled with what she could be doing right now- actually you know what she’s doing: it’s 11 am on a Monday morning. She’s at school, probably teaching her second graders. You sit there for another half an hour before it’s finally time for your lunch break, and you take the walk down to the Wawa around the corner like you usually do. 

Melissa opens up her Tupperware container, only to let out a loud groan at the odor that comes out of it.

“What the hell is that smell?” Ava scrunches her nose up as she walks in.

“I knew it was a risk bringing this today,” the redhead grumbles as she dumps the contents out into the trash can. “But I thought I could get another day out of it.”

“Damn, girl,” the principal laughs. “That sucks. Wawa lunch for you, I guess.”

“Anyone want anything?” the second grade teacher asks as she slings her bag over her shoulder. Jacob goes to say something, but he’s cut off by Melissa loudly announcing, “Alright, if no one wants anything, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

She storms her way down to the convenience store- the same convenience store that you’re currently standing in. She sees you as soon as she walks in.

You’re not nearly as dressed up as you were the other night when she saw you, and you look to be in deep concentration as you decide what you want for lunch that day. She chuckles as she watches your furrow your brows deeper than she ever thought possible. She’s absolutely enamored.

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N,” you chastise yourself quietly. “Just pick something.”

She stands behind you and laughs softly. “You know, you can’t go wrong with their quesadillas.”

You nearly jump three feet in the air. You weren’t expecting anybody to come up behind you, and you certainly weren’t ready for the woman that has been occupying your thoughts to be there.

“Oh my…” you take a deep breath as you look at her. She looks… wow. Your cheeks instantly heat up. “Hey, Melissa.”

“Hey, hun,” she chuckles. “You forget lunch today too?”

You don’t really want to admit this, but you aren’t about to lie. “I usually take a walk down here everyday for lunch.”

“Everyday?”

“Like clock work,” you tell her, as you still mull over what to get for lunch. “It’s so bad most of the employees here know me by name.”

As if on cue, one of the workers there looks up and gives you a grin. “Hey, Y/N! The usual today?”

“Usual?” Melissa smirks.

“Aw, yeah!” the employee grins. “Homegirl comes in everyday!”

“Damn, you weren’t kidding’,” the redhead mutters, smirk still written on her face. She hip checks you lightly, effectively making you move over. She hits a few buttons, and then looks at you expectantly. You just stand there, not quite sure what you’re supposed to do.

“Oi,” the woman rolls her eyes. “Put in your order before I order for you.”

“Oh, no,” you stumble out. “I- I couldn’t ask you to pay for my-”

“You didn’t ask, I’m just doin’ it. And I ain’t gonna hear any arguments,” she tells you sternly.

“Melissa, I-”

“Hey, kid!” the teacher calls to the employee that greeted you. “What’s her order?”

He rattles it off as Melissa taps through the different screens, and you give him a look of betrayal. She prints off the ticket, wanders over to the drinks and grabs a raspberry tea before heading for the register.

“Melissa, you really don’t have to,” you try again.

She’s already handing the ticket over to the man behind the counter and pulling her card out of her wallet though.

“At least let me give you cash… or Venmo?”

“Absolutely not,” she rolls her eyes. The two of you stand and wait for them to make your meals, and when she hands in the printed paper and gets your food, she hands it to you with a smile. “Enchanted.”

With a hair toss, she makes her way out. The entire walk back to your office, you grin. She bought you lunch. She said, ‘enchanted’ again. Then, you mentally kick yourself because you didn’t ask her out, you didn’t ask for her number, you didn’t tell her you would get the next meal, you didn’t even reply with that one word that seems to be your thing now.

You eat your usual order from Wawa, and there’s something about it… it just tastes so much better.

As Melissa struts back into the school, she has that confident smile on her face.

“Damn, what happened to you in that Wawa, girl?” Ava laughs as she watches the redhead settle back into her seat and take a bite of her hoagie.

“Oh, nothin’,” the redhead shrugs. “Just saw a friend there.”

The next day, Melissa doesn’t come into school with a container full of her own cooking like she usually does. She doesn’t even enter the staff room when lunchtime rolls around. Instead, she grabs her bag and heads down the street to hopefully run into you again at the Wawa. 

You’re standing there again, ordering your meal, although you look a little frustrated today. She doesn’t know that your frustration is because you had been standing there for ten minutes, hoping she would come in. You had just admitted defeat and decided to order when she waltzed in.

“Rough day?” the redhead saunters over and asks you.

Your eyes go wide, and the mental fog is lifted when you hear her voice and smell her perfume. “Hey.”

“Rough day?” she repeats.

You shake your head. “Just a little tired,” you tell her as you move to the side so she can put in her order. “I can’t focus on anything at work.”

She taps away on the screen, ordering hers and then also yours. 

You swallow hard. “You remember my order?”

“Course I do,” she shrugs. She hits the button to print the ticket, but as she goes to grab it, you take it first. You make your way over to the drink stations, grab a diet coke, and gesture for her to get her own drink. She grabs a raspberry tea again and then follows you to the register. As you go to hand your card over, a gentle hand slaps your card out of your hand and to the ground. She’s standing there with a smirk as she goes to hand her own card over.

“Aye, Schemmenti,” you playfully growl as you bend over to pick your card up. “It’s my turn to buy.”

“Nah, I got this one,” she chuckles. She also goes to hand her card over, but you smack it out of her hand and throw your card at the employee- a man who is used to seeing you come in and actually checked the two of you out yesterday.

“It’s her turn,” the man shrugs with a cheeky smile as he takes your card, although he does slightly cower at Melissa’s glare. Then the redhead turns to you and immediately turns softer.

“Thank you,” she places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “But I got next one.”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh as the two of you head over to the counter to wait for your meals.

“So, you forgot your lunch again?” you ask her.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Had it out on the counter and left it.” It’s a complete and total lie. She knew she had to test fate to see you again.

The two of you chat while they get your order together, and once again, she’s bidding you a goodbye with a gentle, ‘enchanted’. This time, you get to say it back, and your smiles and blushes are quite similar to each other. 

This continues for the next few weeks, until one day she doesn’t show up at the Wawa like she usually does. Your day sucks. And you’re supposed to meet with Ava after the school day to go get your nails done. You know she’s going to be onto you when you show up in a bad mood.

“Damn girl,” she rolls her eyes and raises a brow. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothin’,” you roll your eyes back. “Let’s just get our nails done and gossip.”

“You know I’m always down for that shit,” she laughs.

The two of you talk for a while as the ladies do your nails before it the conversation turns to your love life.

“Well, who is it this week?” your best friend asks you.

“No one,” you sigh.

“Well no wonder you’re in a bitch mood- you need to get some!”

“Girl, you make me sound like I’m with someone new every weekend, and you know for a fact that I am very much not like that,” you roll your eyes.

“You have to have your eye on someone,” the principal says. “Otherwise you would be out at the bar looking for someone!”

You mull over telling her, and before you know it, the words are spilling out of your mouth, “Well, I do have my eye on one person, but it’ll never happen, so…”

“Ooh, girl! You got tea! Spill it!”

“It’s really not a big deal,” you tell her, hoping she doesn’t pry. Of course she does, it’s Ava, so you have to go about describing Melissa without Ava being able to catch on.

“She’s a little older than us, she’s tough on the outside but has a soft spot for me,” you tell her. “Easy on the eyes, smart as a whip.”

“Girl, why didn’t you tell me you were practically dating someone?! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re describing Schemmenti."

“I’m not,” you roll your eyes. “I really just see M- this woman when we run into each other at Wawa.”

“What’s her name?” the principal wiggles her eyebrows, all too interested in your love life.

“Enough about my love life,” you shut her down. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“I had to cover Schemmenti’s classes today,” Ava tells you. “Woman sounded awful today when she was calling out.”

It clicks in your head that that’s why she wasn’t there to meet you at the Wawa like she usually did, and it isn’t like she has your number to let you know she wasn’t going to meet you. You instantly feel a bit of relief that she didn’t just decide not to come- but you feel bad that she isn’t feeling well.

“Oh?” you try to hide how you actually feel about it. “Is she alright?”

“Nasty cough,” your best friend tells you. “But she assured me she’d be back tomorrow… Red never calls out, so I knew she was feeling pretty shitty.”

“That sucks,” you sigh softly. “Hopefully she’s back tomorrow.”

“So you can ‘run into her at Wawa’?” your best friend blind sides you with her casual remark.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say quickly, hoping to cover yourself.

“Oh, please,” she waves the hand that isn’t being painted right now. “I saw the eyes the two of you were giving each other at the fundraiser, and Melissa has been going to Wawa everyday since the one day her lunch went bad. I know she’s going to the same Wawa you go to everyday, and she always comes back in a better mood. I put it together about a week in. And you just confirmed it.”

“I did not.”

“Girl, remember, I’ve known you since we were five. I know when you’re lying. Listen, she’s your type, your hers. I say go for it.”

“Maybe I will… if she’s feeling better and at school tomorrow.”

“If I know Schemmenti, she will be,” Ava rolls her eyes. “She might be half asleep, and an absolute bitch tomorrow, but she’ll be there.”

Melissa looks like hell as she drags herself into the Wawa, but to you she still looks gorgeous as ever. When she spots you, her eyes light up.

“The usual?” she asks you as the two of you head to the ordering stations. Her voice is barely there.

“Mel, you should be home resting,” you tell her pointedly.

“I’m fine,” she grumbles. “Besides, I can’t miss. The kids have important tests coming up, and-” she interrupts herself to cough. It sounds awful.

You lay a gentle hand on her shoulder and rub it soothingly. Once she’s finished coughing, she sighs. 

“Soup instead of your usual hoagie?” you ask her, already pressing buttons to order her a chicken noodle soup.

She looks defeated but nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You insist on paying, telling her to let herself be taken care of. She begrudgingly listens, mumbling about how she’s a Philly girl and she can handle herself. You roll your eyes, but you assure her that she’s still a tough Philly girl- that it’s okay to lean on someone else. As the two of you are standing there, she coughs a few times. Again, you lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. When she’s finally done coughing, she quite literally leans into your body just slightly.

“Sorry I ditched ya yesterday,” she wheezes out. “I couldn’t drag myself out of bed.”

“No need to apologize,” you assure her. “I’m glad you were home getting some rest.”

“I just kept wishing I had a way to tell you,” she mutters.

“Well, why don’t I just give you my number, so if that happens again… or you want to get something besides Wawa with me, we can text?” you shoot your shot with the woman.

“That sounds… enchanting,” she smiles softly. “When I’m feeling better, I’ll make us dinner? I’m one hell of a cook.”

“I’d be enchanted,” you tell her warmly.

As the two of you separate, you get a text from her. Enchanted.

By the time the end of the work day is over, Ava has texted you too. Bitchhh! I’m assuming you shot your shot. Red came back into the school practically dancing.

Yeah. You’re just starting this chapter of life- that one night was truly enchanting, and it really was the very first page. 

Next

[saintvainglorious]

10 Best Black Sails Fics I Read in 2023

In honor of Black Sails' 10th anniversary, here's a list of my top 10 favorite Black Sails fics I read in 2023, in order from shortest to longest. Most Black Sails fic rec posts I've seen are now around 2 or 3 years old (though not all, bless @jaynovz and your #jay's esoteric rec lists tag) so nearly half of the recs in this list spotlight newer fics. It's amazing to see fantastic fics still being written and updated years after the show ended - y'all are keeping this fandom alive!

I didn't read that much Black Sails fic this year, comparatively speaking, so I'm sure there's plenty of newer gems that I missed. All the fics in this rec list are Silverflint unless otherwise stated.

1 - Gone To Port Royal by Apetslife (G, 3k) - a delightful oneshot from Gates' POV where they all go to a pirate afterlife. every scene is perfect. endlessly re-readable and never fails to make me smile.

Definition of Valhalla 1: the great hall in Norse mythology where heroes slain in battle are received 2 : a place of honor, glory, or happiness: heaven

2 - i’ll be seeing you by youatemytailor/@annevbonny (NR, 19k) - this is THEE post-canon Silverflint reunion fic. the anguish, the rage, the quiet jokes, the tenderness, it's all devastatingly in-character. particularly the chapter 5 climactic unspooling leaves me in awe upon every reread.

Silver is out of his chair and across the room before he knows it. He has a grip on the barkeep’s shirt before he knows it, and he’s pulling him up, hauling him eye-level, only to head-butt him to the ground again. The barkeep’s mouth is thrown open in a wail, but there’s no sound, Silver thinks, no sound at all, save for the blood rushing in his ears as he looks at the other man on the ground, watches him roll to his side with a groan. Flint, Silver thinks, and nothing else. It beats around the knife in his gut like a drum. Flint. And then Flint is looking at him.

3 - The Dark Lord Proprietor by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 19k, Silverflintham) - a fuckin hysterical supervillain AU. Thomas has amnesia, Flint is pining, Silver tries to get them back together. what could go wrong? could not stop cackling.

A year ago, James Flint was in a stable relationship and was within spitting distance of taking over London. Now he’s single, with a dubiously loyal henchman, a lairmate determined to learn his every weakness, and a Secret Past with the new supervillain on the scene. And thanks to a new government program, it’s all a race to the bottom.

4 - the cross dimensional nassau bar of getting izzy hands laid by FortinbrasFTW/@fortinbrasftw (E, 19k ~WIP~, Flint/OFMD Izzy Hands) - a Black Sails OFMD Flint/Izzy Hands crossover. the very best kind of smut-as-character study. funny, gripping, and endlessly re-readable.

The first thing Izzy realizes is he looks absolutely fucking furious — which yeah, alright, fair enough. He’s got shorter ginger hair. A beard like Izzy’s but kept neater. Earrings like Izzy’s but worn simpler. Bleeding like Izzy but, well, maybe a bit less. And he’s handsome. Izzy realizes it suddenly and slowly somehow all at once. Bit like a bloody painting even. The kind you saw up on walls in rich folk’s houses. Only, well, no painting had eyes like that, did it? You’d have to be mad to keep a painting with eyes like that in your home. They were bright and clear and looked — honest-to-fucking-Christ — ready to set the whole damned world on fire. Izzy's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night takes an interesting turn thanks to a completely different sort of pirate captain.

5 - frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat/@francisthegreat (E, 21k) - Silver realizes, post-shark date, that he's in love with Flint. an instant, iconic fave fic. SO many delicious scenes and quotes that live rent free in my head. just read it, you won't regret it.

“I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

6 - the whole estate of mortal man by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (T, 43k) - Creature Silver AU where he'll grant wishes in exchange for souls. first read this fic in 2020 and cried. reread it this year and cried again. the nature of the AU intersects so cleverly with Black Sails' themes, and the end result is devastating.

Silver has a limited memory, an unlimited lifespan, and a need for human souls. He spends months trying to buy Flint’s.

7 - our feast is but beginning by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 55k) - Flint teaches season 1 Silver how to cook. they're definitely not dating. no, really. this writer writes dialogue so in-character that it cuts like a knife. features sensual cooking, Flint being a queer mentor for Silver, fun genderfuckery, and Them Being Real Tender.

Flint should walk away. Silver can figure out how to feed the men, it isn’t his problem. But roasting a pig is so easy, and when was the last time he had a hand in creating something rather than destroying it? Anyway, what else is he doing, with Billy taking the crew in hand with such annoying competency? He absolutely does not think about why he is reluctant for this interaction with Silver to end. “Go get another pig,” he says before he can reconsider. “Do exactly as I say.”

8 - With Strange Aeons by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 60k, Silverflint + Flinthamilton + Jackanne) - Came for the Silverflint, stayed for the Silverflint but also for holy fuck Jack and Anne are sent to Savannah and break out of there with Thomas to battle literal Cthulhu. How can you NOT read this. I don't typically read Flinthamilton, but by god Thomas is amazing in this.

After the disappearance and presumed death of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, Max smuggles Jack and Anne to Oglethorpe’s plantation. Thomas learns that not only do the three of them have a friend in common, but he is not the only one whose dreams are haunted by a strange city and a terrifying name. Meanwhile, Flint and Silver try to escape an island trapped in time, impossibly built and impossibly old. Along the way they’re forced question reality, each other, and themselves. And in his house in R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

9 - The Salt and the Sea by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 60k) - a between season 2 and 3 recovery fic. i still remembered months after reading that chapter 4 in particular left me undone. a harrowing journey into the ruins of post-leg loss Silver's mind, plus exquisite hurt/comfort.

John Silver was always able to make the best of a situation. If this particular situation had started to feel complicated, well, a vast fortune ought to prove clarifying. Whatever he might have imagined he’d seen in Flint, the reality was they had used each other. And he had been set to walk away on top. Except now he couldn’t. Now he was trapped.

10 - the straight walk home by vowelinthug/@vowel-in-thug (E, 73k, Silverflint + Jackanne + Maxanne + Billy/Vane) - A western AU and one of the best long fics in the fandom. Excellent comedy, amazing AU twists on our favorite characters, found family vibes, nail-biting action, and a fucking fantastic climax. Also, I can't believe this fic got me invested in Billy/Vane.

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez...

[justmeinadaze]

Im in Control Part 11 ( Steddie X You)

A/N: Do you remember the beginning of Lilo and Stitch where she gets into that fight with the little girl and the teacher tries to like reprimand her and she's like "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" That's how I feel posting this lol

Warnings: Feelings! All the feelings! With the smut of course. Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie. The boys get the reader a gift to have some fun with her. They do fuck up (I feel like) and there is some major angst with the boy going into more about their damage when it comes to their past. The reader mentions some trauma but it's not as in depth as theirs.

Rough sex (I mean...it could be rougher but still ) Its more the reader towards them. Slapping, hitting, etc. Um...am I forgetting something? Maybe.

Word Count: 5152 ( I let the angst flow through me *sinister laugh*)

“I hate weddings.”, TJ grimaces as he takes a drink from the flask in his pocket. 

“Oh, that’s nice. Give me my invitation back then.” As Randy reaches for the envelope, your boss pulls it back. 

“I said I hated weddings. I didn’t say I hated you. I will be there.”

You giggle from your place on your desk as Steve looks at the over stylized piece of paper in his hands. 

“TJ doesn’t hate weddings. He hates marriage. Thankfully, Randy, you aren’t looking into a mirror of the future.” You raise your hand to block the stress ball TJ throws in your direction and Eddie catches it from his place in front of you as it bounces off your palm. 

“And of course, you’re all welcome to bring a plus one.” Randy turns to look at you. “Except you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you are kind, funny, beautiful, and more importantly not jaded and bitter like these assholes. I want you to meet my friend who’s actually my best man. I think you two will really hit it off.”

“Jesus H Christ, why is everyone so obsessed with my romantic life? Randy, I appreciate the offer but I’m okay.”

“Oh, so are you bringing anyone?”

“I was going to go with these two.”, you gesture towards Eddie and Steve.

“Okay, well there we go. I’ll tell him you’re just bringing friends. Talk to him, Y/N. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

When you glanced at the boys, their eyes were still on the invitations but everything about their demeanor had totally changed. Steve’s chest rose and fell heavily while the hand that Eddie didn’t have holding the paper was balled into a fist on his knee.

“Hmm… I’m sure I will.”

##################

“We have a present for you.” Steve grins as his hungry eyes scan your body. 

They had driven to your house to pick you up for the wedding but instead of meeting them outside like you normally do, he had come up to knock on your door. 

“What is it?”

“Hm, I can’t tell you. Here, go put it on before we’re late.” The man hands you the box before playfully slapping your ass, pushing you towards your room. 

After you open it, you stare at the contents completely confused. Inside was some admittedly cute lingerie but you didn’t understand why they would want you to wear it now and not later when the three of were playing. Nevertheless, you did as he asked, sliding the black lace panties under your green silk dress. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah, baby?”

You smiled to yourself as he replied to you. You liked when pet names like that freely flowed from his lips without prompting or hesitation. 

“This bra is beautiful but it wouldn’t go with the dress. My straps are too thin and the cut is too low. Is it ok if I leave it here? I don’t want you guys to think I don’t like it.”

His tall frame suddenly appeared in your doorway. “Aw, look at you, being so sweet. Of course, that’s fine.”

You grin as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Steve extends his elbow to you which you take as he guides you towards the car. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You look breath taking.” Eddie flashes you a smile and you lean over the seat to kiss his cheek, 

“Thank you and thank you for my present.”

“Oh, yeah? You like it? We thought of you when we saw it.” The metalhead chuckled at Steve as he climbed in and started the car. “Harrington, as beautiful as you are, I don’t think that shade of lipstick suits you.”

He makes a face as he looks in the rearview and removes the imprint you left on his mouth. Steve leans over and lightheartedly punches his friend in the arm. “Don’t be jealous. Tell her more about the panties we bought.”

“Mr. Harrington, they are panties. There’s nothing intercut about them beside the very sexy lacey design along the side. Other than that, they cover all the naughty bits.”

“They better.”

You laugh at his stern tone as Eddie grins over at him before looking back at you. “Princess, these aren’t just any pair of panties. They… well, it’s probably easier if I just show you.”

You watch him as he reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a tiny black remote. He wiggles it in your direction, showing it off before pressing a button at the top. 

A sudden jolt of vibration shoots through your body straight to your clit. 

“Fucking hell!”

“Oh hey, Steve. It works.” They smile at each other as the car stops at a stop light and Eddie climbs between the seats into the back with you. 

“What did you two do?”

“See, you can do little pushes…” His fingers pressed the button repeatedly and each little shockwave elicited a small moan. “Or you can push this button here…” His thumb pressed another section of the remote, allowing the vibration to be more constant as it messaged your nub. Your head fell against his shoulder as your hips began involuntarily moving, grinding against nothing.

“You can also change the intensity which is really cool.” As Eddie’s thumb slid along the side, the vibration between your legs gradually intensified causing your eyes to roll back. The man beside you licked his lips as he leaned them down to the shell of your ear. 

“Baby, you’re going to have to have a better poker face then that in front of these people.”

“I-I-I can’t…”

“Aw, Stevie. Little girl pretends she’s so tough but can’t hold it together for one night?”

Your face contorted in annoyance as you looked up to meet his gaze. “It…it’s not fair…when…”

While you were talking Eddie increased the intensity again making you reach out abruptly and cling to his shoulders. 

“Go on. What’s not fair?”

“I’m…I’m…”

“No, no. Tell me what’s not fair. Then you can cum.”

You felt the car stop as Steve parked, turning around to watch the display behind him. 

“It’s not…fair…when you…have an advantage…fuck! Please, please, please.”

“Go ahead, Sweetheart. Cum for us but keep your eyes on me as you do. Do you understand?”

“Y-y-yes, Sir.”

“What you’re feeling right now. That intense overwhelming pleasure as your cunt tightens and your body trembles. We control that. We are in charge of making you feel as good as you do right now.”

You bite your lip, controlling to urge to scream as you cum. The vibration between your legs abruptly stops as Eddie passes the remote to Steve. His beautiful eyes lock on to yours as he gestures to his friend. 

“Remember what he said when you’re talking to Randy’s best man.”

##################

“I hate you both.”, you spit through gritted teeth as you three take your seat at the reception table. 

“No, you don’t.”, Eddie cackles. 

“We haven’t even done anything yet since the car ride here. Calm down, little miss.”

“Yeah, but the fucking anticipation…I don’t when you guys are going to—”

“Hey Y/N! Hey, boys.” Randy grins as he leans down to hug you. 

“Hey, man. That was a beautiful ceremony.”, Steve returns his grin with his own. 

“Thank you. I’m glad it’s all finally over though. Planning this was a huge pain in the ass and then the whole thing with the engagement party… Anyway,” he looks down at you. “I see you didn’t bring anyone with you.”

“See but I did though. I brought two!” You gesture to the guys but as your hand extends the groom takes it and pulls you out of your chair. “Randy, I don’t—”

“Hi. You must be Y/N. I’m Jason.” The best man offers you a hand which you hesitantly shake. He blinds you with his smile as he chuckles. 

“Jas, these are her clients. This is Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve heard a lot about you.”, he says emphatically as he greets them. 

“Oh yeah? Randy’s never mentioned you. The only Jason we know is from our hometown and he was kind of a dick.”

You narrow your eyes at Eddie as you pout your lips. “Really? I’m sorry for them. They are stubborn as all hell and complete assholes.”

“You’re right, Randy. She’s funny.” His eyes lock with yours. “I like that.”

The abrupt vibration between your legs startles a small yelp out of your lips as you turn to look at them. Both sets of eyes were glowing with amusement, completely ready to do this tango with you. It made your core throb with need as sat back down between them. 

“We have to go back to our table but we’ll talk later?”

Your lips quickly press together as the tremor between your legs escalates. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie leans closer to you. “The man is asking you a question. It’s impolite to not answer.”

“Yes, I WOULD like that vERy mmmuch.”

Jason softly smiles at you before turning with Randy and heading back to their designated area. 

“Fucking prick.”, the metalhead rolls his eyes.

“You just don’t like him because he wants our girl. Even though, I’m not going to lie, the vibe I’m getting is one pump chump. Then he’s gone. What do you think, honey?”

You hadn’t heard a word they said as your hand gripped Eddie’s thigh. They watched as you swallowed down pants, trying to control any moans from escaping. You suddenly felt Steve’s hand in your hair and the tenderness of his touch was enough to push you over the edge as your head leaned back, squeezing your eyes shut as you came.

“There we go. Atta girl. Such a good girl for us.” His eyes quickly scanned the room before using his fingers to push your hair behind your ear so he could see your face better. “Color, baby?”

“I still hate you but green.”, you smile in his direction. 

Steve’s own grin grows as he passes the remote to Eddie. “You can say it correctly. No one’s looking.”

Your eyes shifted around the room just as his had before finally resting on his juicy lips in front of you. 

“I wish I could kiss you right now, Daddy.”

“Well shit!”, TJ’s voice startled you both. “That was actually a fucking nice little thing they pulled off here.” 

You cleared your throat as you turned to face your boss. “Nice little thing? I’m sure the bride and groom will love that you’re calling it that.”

“Look, angel. I’ve done three of these. I think I’m an expert by now.”

“No one is questioning that.”, you giggle. 

“I’m just saying it’s nice, okay? Leave me alone.” He smiles, chugging back the wine in his glass. 

The reception continued in typical fashion with the bridal party and parents each giving a little speech. There was the typical throwing of the bouquet which Eddie found totally amusing that you didn’t want to take part in.

“Why not? Isn’t it like a whole thing for girls to want to catch the flowers?”

“For some, yes, but not me. I think someone who actually wants to get married sometime soon should grab it.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

You reached under the table and placed your hand in Steves. “Not right now but one day. Do you want to get married? I mean at some point.”

“Eh, I don’t think I’m cut out for marriage.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you met me?”, he chuckles.

“Steve…”

“Don’t get married, son. Trust me! It’s a trap.” TJ raises his glass towards him as you roll your eyes. 

You notice that Eddie had gone uncharacteristically silent, reaching for his hand with your free one. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one happy marriage.” He softly smiles as your thumb caresses his skin. “And I think out of all my friends, Harrington’s parents are the only ones that are still together and they definitely aren’t happy.”

“My parents are still together and I’m your friend.”

“Are they happy?”

“Happily married, yes. Happy in general, no.”

The father and bride dance along the dance floor in front of you and after a while more people are to join. You glance at them both but neither man moves. 

“Excuse me.” You look up to see Jason smiling down at you. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“She very much would. Hi. I’m the boss. I’m TJ. This young lady deserves a dance. Hell, she deserves way more than a dance.”, he winks as you cringe. 

“I’m sorry. He’s wasted and an idiot.”

“No. Not a problem. So—”

“Go! Now! I’ll keep the boys company! They’ll survive a few minutes without you.” TJ shoves you into Jason’s chest and gestures you both way from the table. 

You place your hand on his shoulder taking the other to hold in the air as you sway to the music. You try to keep as much distance between you two as possible but it’s hard with his hand on the small of your back. 

“Randy tells me you’re an agent for some popular porn stars. That’s kind of neat. I don’t know a lot about the industry but…”

You couldn’t give a damn about what he is saying. You tuned him out as your eyes stayed on your table, watching as Eddie and Steve became increasingly more angry. They whispered heatedly to each other; well, Eddie did. Steve’s lips remained in firm line as he followed Jason’s movement with his eyes. 

Every time his hand drifted a little further down your waist, his chest would rise and fall as he told himself not to just get up and beat the shit out of this guy. Eddie pulled out the remote and you subtly shook your head. You knew if they teased you, you may grab onto Jason which would just make things worse.

Steve whispered in the metalheads ear making Eddie grin as he pushed one of the buttons forcing the panties to come to life between your legs. They weren’t going to make this easy, choosing to skip the little pushes and allow the vibration to turned on while you danced. 

“FUUUCK me…”, you mumbled.

“Are you ok?”, Jason asked as he looked you over.

“Yeah, yes, yeees. I’m fine.” A sudden increase in intensity pushed you forward into his chest. “Sorry. I, uh, trIIIpped.”

You turned glare at Eddie to find they were both already fuming. Steve reached over for the remote turning the vibration to its highest setting and you couldn’t help but cling to Jason’s shoulder for support as you felt your legs begin to shake. 

When his lips connected to yours, you immediately shoved him away from you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“You were grabbing on me. I thought you were trying to…I don’t know!”

“We just met!”

“I don’t fucking know how women in this industry behave.”

“Yeah well, obviously, you have no idea how a man behaves either. Fucking prick.”

Your shoes click against the floor as you run out of the reception hall and enter the bathroom. As soon as Jason kissed you the vibration had stopped but you still reached aggressively under your dress, pulling off the underwear and throwing them on the counter. 

A knock on the door made you jump and as soon as you opened it Steve’s hands gripped your face. Eddie followed behind him, locking the door so no one else could come in. 

The man holding you quickly scanned your face as his thumbs wiped the tears from under your eyes. “Are you ok? What happened? Did he hurt you? Why are you crying?”

“No! No. I just got overwhelmed with the underwear, seeing you guys look so hurt, and then him fucking kissing me. I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Steve pulled you to his chest as you tried to calm down. “Hey. Breathe, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”

“We took it too far. We just hated seeing his hands on you.”, Eddie sighed.

“I didn’t want to dance with him! I didn’t want anything to do with him but no one fucking listens to me! I just want to be with you! With both of you! I fucking love you!” 

You immediately closed your mouth trying to stop your words but they had already flowed from your lips. Steve’s hands dropped from you as both men leaned back against the wall. Your breath shook as you exhaled, eyes shifting between them. 

“I love you.”, you repeated with a bit more confidence. 

“This was a mistake. We pushed her too hard.” Steve’s voice was low as he spoke to Eddie. 

“You think? She thinks she’s in love with us.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t talk to each other like I’m not here.”, you scowl.

“Maybe we should give her space.”, Eddie continued as he folded his arms across his chest. 

You march up to the boy and grip his cheeks in your hand like they do with you when you won’t answer a question. “STOP! Talk to me, Eddie.”

Roughly, he pulls face from your hands and pushes you backwards away from them. “You can’t love us.”

“Why? Was that some fucking rule I missed?”

“Munson, it’s ok. Little girl thinks she’s in love. It’s kind of cute.” Steve’s tone is dripping with condescension.

“I…I don’t think. I-I-I…”

“I-I-I… yeah, you sound real sure of yourself.”

“That’s because you’re intimidating me a bit! I just…don’t understand. Why can’t I love you? Why would that be such a bad thing?”

“We aren’t people you fall in love in love with, honey.”

“Oh? So when you told me that you cared about me…where did you expect this to go?! At some point like turns to love, Steve. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Steve’s head hangs as he slightly turns to speak in Eddie’s direction. “I told you this was a mistake.”

“No! Don’t turn this around and make me into one of the people who left you guys. You’re the ones pushing me away right now and for a stupid reason!”

“It’s not stupid! We’re protecting you. Trust me. You don’t love us. You don’t WANT to love us.” Eddie glared at you trying to keep his strong composure intact. 

It suddenly all hit you at once. 

“I’ve never seen a happy marriage…Come on, honey. Have you met me?... My dad beat the shit out of me…A smart mouth just like your fucking mother…My dad was barely home. He never cared. Always made me feel like I wasn’t enough… I didn’t do enough to protect you…”

“Eddie. Steve. You… you guys aren’t your parents. You’re not your dads. This thing here that we do…it’s not the same.”

“We should get back out there before people start wondering where you are.” Steve started to move out of the way so he could open the door but you held him still with your palm against his chest. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t ignore me. Don’t ignore my feelings. When we started our relationship, you asked me if I had any boundaries you shouldn’t cross. This right here is a big one. My mom pushed aside my feelings all the time especially if they didn’t align with her beliefs. Please, don’t…don’t do this. Don’t be selfish. I’ve been through some shit to and being open with you guys like this is extremely hard. But I DO love you and if you don’t that’s fine. It is what it fucking is but don’t you DARE preach to me some bullshit about how I can’t because of who you are.”

Eddie looked at Steve as they had a silent conversation between them. The metalhead nodded before shoving his friend to the side and barreling out into the hallway. 

Steve grabbed the door handle, pausing to glance your way. “Our private arrangement is over. If you feel like you can’t be our agent anymore, we’ll understand. We’ll bring your stuff from our house to your office on Monday. You can let us know then.” With that he was gone.

Your entire body felt numb as you stood there staring at the spot they had just been standing. Your body glided out of the bathroom of its own free will as you passed through the reception hall like a ghost. 

“Y/N, have you heard of this—Y/N?”, TJ’s eyes followed you with genuine concern. You couldn’t bear to look towards the other two men at the table. “Y/N? Angel, where are you going?”

He got up to trail after you, gently reaching for your arm. As you looked up at him, it was like being shaken from a trance. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

I’m not in control.

You suddenly fell into his arms and cried. He guided you to a nearby bench, holding you to him as he gently rocked you back and forth. “I told you weddings are the worst.” A heavy breath left your chest as you laughed and he smiled at the sound. “I’ve known you for 5 years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hurt like this. Now I know I’m your boss but I care about you so I just have one question. Whose ass am I kickin’?”

You didn’t see it but Steve was watching you two out of the corner of his eye. 

“Is she still crying?”, Eddie asked as he looked down into his glass. 

He shook his head. “TJ’s making her smile.”

“Good because we’re fucking assholes.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why we are letting her go.”

“Are we? Or are we throwing more salt in her wound by staying around as her clients?”

“Go ahead, Munson. Go tell her we’ll be leaving as her clients as well which could get her fired in the process.”, Steve chugged back the last of the wine in front of him. 

“She was fucking right you know. We never should have crossed that professional line. We should have just left her alone especially if it was going to end like this. She was right about everything. I mean, where did we think this relationship was going to go, Harrington? I feel like we’re worse than our dads for stringing her along and I hope you enjoyed watching that prick paw on her because we are going to be seeing a lot more of that now.”

“Excuse me.”  They jumped at the sound of your voice. “You two gave me a ride here and TJ is too drunk to take me home. Can you please—”

“Yeah. Not a problem.” Steve quickly fishes for his keys as both boys stand. 

“Thanks, guys. I’d drive her but I don’t have my car and I am way too wasted.” TJ grins as he gives you one final hug. “At least I know she’s safe with you guys.”

#################

The entire car ride to your house is completely silent. As soon as they parked, Eddie began to move so he could get out and open your car door. 

“No. No, no. Mr. Munson. I got it. Thank you for the ride.” You reached for the door, stopping halfway as you addressed them. “I don’t need until Monday. I’ll still be your agent but I have rules of my own.”

You heard them shuffle in their seats to face you and for the first time since the bathroom, you met their eyes. 

I’m in control.

“We don’t talk about anything unless it’s business related. I think that’s best for everyone. You will stay out of my personal business and I will stay out of yours. That’s, um, that’s it actually. That’s all I had.”

They silently nodded and you did the same, reaching for the door again. 

“We’re sorry… for what it’s worth…”

You sarcastically laugh as you lean back in their back seat, casually gesturing towards Eddie. “Letting Daddy speak for you again, I see. You know what, Steve. Nothing. Your sorry is worth NOTHING. I trusted you two and what did that get me? This is the second time in our relationship you both have made me feel stupid. I put a lot on the line for this relationship. My career, my friendships, my personal life. I have told you two things and done things with you that I have never said or done with anyone else! I even left a good man because I put my faith in you. I’m an IDIOT but it’s fine.”

“It’s fine because it’s fucking over. No one, hear me, NO ONE has ever hurt me like you two just did. So, Steven, that sorry apology isn’t worth the pain I’m feeling right now.” You finally exit the car and slam the vehicle door. “Thank you for the ride.”

The tears started to flow as you made your way towards your front door. A strong hand gripped your shoulder, turning you around as Steve’s lips crashed to yours. Eddie promptly opened your front door as Steve guided you inside. You pushed him back against the wood, smacking his face with your palm. 

Glaring up at him, you did it again and he didn’t do anything to stop you. Shakily, you tore at his suit as he roughly pulled at your dress. Your back suddenly hit the wall outside of your bedroom as his lips heatedly kissed your own. As he started fumbling with his belt, you shoved at his chest, trying to push him back. Your hand collided with his cheek again and when his face turned back towards you, his brown eyes were overshadowed with lust. 

“Is that best you can do, little girl? Come on. I know you can do better.” You hit him again, feeling his bare chest heave at the feeling. “Oh, come on, baby! Really let go.” Your tiny hands pushed and punched at his chest as you felt the tears well up in your eyes again. 

“Fuck you, Steve!” Your fell back against the adjacent wall and his body came with you as his head leaned near your ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He kicked his pants to the side, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as you clung to his neck. “I don’t want to hurt you either, honey.” Your eyes rolled back as he sheathed himself inside of you, thrusting at a steady pace as he spoke.

“You’re not an idiot and you’re not fucking stupid. You are the best girl we have ever known. We have to do this, baby.”

“You don’t have to, Daddy.” He grunted as you pulled his hair, making him look at you. “You don’t have to. You—mmm—aren’t him. Fuck. Please, please. Harder, Daddy.” Without pulling out, he carries you into your bedroom and falls with you onto the bed, smacking his hips against yours as you moan. 

“You deserve better, Y/N.”

“Please, make me cum. Please, Daddy.”

Steve pushes up on to his arms, pumping into you as hard as he can, watching as your body bounces below him. Your nails scale down his chest as you cum, clenching around him making mewl as he moves faster against you. He falls onto you, his hips faltering as he cums inside of you.

As he rolls to the side, you sit up on your elbows to meet Eddie’s blown out eyes. He had already removed his suit and was slowly stroking his cock as he watched you both. 

You expected Eddie to immediately take what he wanted but when he placed himself in front of you, his arms abruptly pulled you into a hug. 

“He’s right, Princess. You deserve better.”

“Then why did you even bother, huh? You should have just kept fucking me the way you were or better yet…just left me alone.”

He leaned back to look at your face as ran his fingers through your hair. “I don’t know. You’re right. We should have kept things the way they were.”

You bottom lip trembled as you tried holding yourself together. Balling up your fist, you punched his chest, knocking him back slightly. 

“That…does NOTHING for me, Eddie! Just like his fucking apology. Or I’m sorry, both your apologies. Did Stevie tell you this was for the best and you just went along with it?”

He looked down, trying to control his temper. Eddie knew he deserved this after hurting you. 

“No.”

You hit his chest again but this time he turns into it. “Just no…Sir? That’s all I fucking get? No!”

As your fist flies, he reaches out to grip your wrist and pulls you closer to his face.

“No because I don’t need him to remind me where I come from! I’m a Munson, sweetheart. We’re all destined to be fuck ups. I am meant to destroy you, Y/N. Is that what you want?! Because that’s what you claim to love.”

He pushes your chest, making you fall backwards as he quickly grabs your legs pulling you to the edge of the bed. Eddie runs the tip of his cock between your folds a few times before breaching your entrance. Hugging your legs against his chest, he thrusts into you with purpose.

The sound of your strained voice draws his attention as he looks down at your sweaty face. “I…I don’t—mmm—I don’t understand why—FUCK!”

“Why what, baby. Tell him.” Your eyes meet Steves as he gently pets your head, caressing your forehead with his thumb. Eddie slows his pace allowing you gather your thoughts.

“I don’t understand why you…see yourselves so…negatively.” A tear escapes your eye and Steve tenderly wipes it away. “I trusted you.”

Eddie opens your legs, wrapping them around him as he leans down to capture your lips. He holds you to his mouth, feeling your pussy tighten around him as you cum again. Leaning up on his knees, he chases his own high, furrowing his eyebrows together as he cums a few moments after you.

Steve wasted no time getting a wash rag from your bathroom and taking care of you. You sat on the edge of the bed allowing them to do their thing, staring off into the void as they did. Eddie threw a shirt over your head and for the first time since you had started your relationship, he put one of your own on you. 

The dam broke as you cried again. Steve wrapped his arms around you, shifting your body so your head was on your pillows. When he moved to leave, you didn’t let him go. Not until you felt him crawl under the covers with you as Eddie did the same. His arm encircled around your waist behind you as Steve watched your face till your eyes slowly began to close. 

“Steve? Eddie?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Please, don’t be here when I wake up.”

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