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#multi chapter fic
sleepingelvhen · 2 months
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Sleeping Spider Lily [🌹Pt. 4🌹]
Blade/Reader NSFW
Minors DO NOT interact
Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- [🌹Part 4🌹]
MASTERLIST
Finally, you have a moment with Blade that's just for the two of you. Intimate. Beautiful. It's exactly what you need.
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When his lips finally met yours, it took you a moment to really realize how soft they still were. Still smooth and plush to the touch, a kiss as gentle as you remembered. There were hints of impatience, a reminder of all the pent up rage and aggression he held inside of him now, but he was still able to be kind in all the ways you knew him to be.
While his hand wrapped around your throat, his fingers didn’t tighten, only there to keep you aware of what you were doing and who you were doing it with. 
Blade’s tongue darted out to lick open your lips, pressing into your mouth to prod at your own tongue. Almost as hypnotic as when you spoke to Kafka, his touches and kisses caused your mind to swirl into a daze. His hands slid down from your neck, grazing over your chest and stomach, gripping your plush thighs tightly and pulling you against him with a tug.
“Ah!” He moaned into your mouth, a sharp gasp from the feeling of your body against his own. You could feel the large bulge in his pants, pressing against the constraints, aching to press into your own body. It was so obvious how needy he was, no matter how he tried to conceal it under his dark and heated gaze. Obvious in the way he kept pressing himself as if he could get closer than he already was, in the way he couldn’t pull his gaze away from you. 
Lips trailing down your throat cast a fog over you, your mouth parted, panting from each touch against your highly sensitive skin. You could see him grin against your collarbone, using his skilled hands now calloused from years of brandishing his sword to push your shirt up until he was fondling your chest, soft mounds against rough hands. Hands made for blacksmithing, a craft he’d never pick up again from the trauma, now hands perfect for holding you, loving you, and pleasing you.
“These feel the same as ever,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled from being pressed against your throat. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, your voice high pitched and squeaky as he rolled and pitched your nipples. A dark laugh emitted from him as he watched you struggle to stop making such noises. 
“So noisy. I wonder how much louder I can make you.”
His caresses only continued from there, becoming more and more desperate. Fingers digging into soft flesh, lips kissing against every inch of bare skin, his hips rubbing between your legs, eliciting moans from both of you lost in your embrace.
“I remember,” he growled, fingers now working against your pants, hot breath against your lips, red eyes boring into your own. “I used to make you scream my name.”
You lifted your legs, helping him undress you. He stayed kneeling before you, his eyes never once moving while he held one of your legs in his hands. It looked like he was ready to worship you, the only person he’d ever get on his knees for.
“I can’t wait to hear it again, after all these years.”
His eyes flickered down between your legs. Licking his lips, his fingers dug into the meat of your thighs, spreading you wide as he pressed his lips to your core. Just an experimental kiss but enough to send a cold shiver up your spine. The noises you made after that weren’t up to you. Using his tongue and his fingers, he worked your body, collecting the slick that had gathered within you and devouring every bit of your pleasure. You could feel the deep growl from his throat vibrate against you, his fingers pressing into you while his tongue focused on your clit. 
“B-blade–ah!” It was nearly impossible to stop your moans, fingers now digging into his long dark hair, even softer than it felt the last time you had felt it. 
Nothing could stop him from pleasuring you, no matter how much your body shook beneath his touch, or how your legs threatened to suffocate him as they tensed and closed around his neck. Blade moaned against you, working his fingers faster and faster, curling them against the spot that made you throw your head back.
“Oooh, what a good girl~”
That sent you over the edge, your noises racking your entire body, legs quivering and tightening around his head. But he seemed pleased as he watched your orgasm crash over you, using his fingers and tongue to help you through it. As your body relaxed, he crawled over your body, sucking his fingers clean.
“I wonder, have you been with another since me?”
You shook your head, mind completely gone and consumed with an unending lust. It dawned on you just how sexually frustrated you had been in so many years. Not once had you even considered sleeping with another person, focused so intently on simply getting better and healing. Other than that, you couldn’t imagine anyone ever able to please you in the way he had been able to.
Blade considered you for a moment, his fingers now working to undo his belt, pulling down his own pants with an ease that caused your mouth to water. His cock was as you remembered it; long and girthy, soft veins decorating the base. Aeons, how you wanted to feel it inside of you again.
“See something you like?” The corner of his lip curled up into a smirk, his hand gripping his shaft, guiding it to your entrance, pressing it just enough to slide along your wetness but not enough to really push into you. “Maybe something you want?”
Your breath hitched. His cock was so close to finally being in you, so close to him becoming part of you. Words weren’t enough to truly express the way your heart beat, the feeling in your gut that squirmed and heated up every moment you didn’t have him fully inside of you. He clicked his tongue, sliding his cock slower and slower against you, groaning softly but not allowing himself to lose control.
“Speak.” One of his hands clawed into the table next to your head, his hot breath against your face. “Do you want this?”
Another push against your entrance made you squeak loudly, tears pricking your eyes. You wanted this more than ever, more than anything you’d ever wanted. 
“Y-yes,” you whimpered, earning you another click of Blade’s tongue, his hand now wrapping around your throat, thumb pressing into it.
“Louder.” His voice was stern, commanding, and it turned your body even weaker than it already was. 
“Yes! I want you!” You shut your eyes with a gasp, biting your lip when you felt him start to press his cock into you. 
Slowly, it pushed in, your nerves on fire with each inch that entered with every delicate roll of his hips. 
“Mmm, fuck, such a good girl,” you were suddenly forced to face him, his fingers digging into your jaw, thumb pressing between your lips, forcing you to take it in your mouth. 
“That’s it, take it!”
One sharp thrust pushed the rest of his cock into you, a loud gasp leaving his throat as your body enveloped him. His moan was deep and throaty, purely feral as he gripped your throat even tighter, his other hand lifting your thigh up to his waist.
“I’m gonna make every cloud knight in the area hear you.”
With that he was rutting into you like a desperate animal. No inhibitions in holding his voice back as he moaned out and growled into your mouth. Messy kisses occasionally drowned out the noises, allowing for the sound of skin against skin to echo. Just like he said, if a cloud knight had been anywhere near here, there’d be no way to miss what was happening.
“Fuck…closer,” he moaned out, lifting both of your legs now, pressing your knees up to your chest as he rutted faster and faster. You could feel his cock hitting deeper into you than you believed possible, kissing your cervix.
“Oh such a good girl,” he curled his lips, covering your body with his own, fingers gripping the table, his hips quick and hard against you. “So tight…so wet…even better than I remember.”
Lips pressed against your neck, his tongue leaving a long wet streak as he began to nibble at your skin. Your body was on fire, each thrust a shock of pure pleasure, his touch and tongue only making you more sensitive with each second. 
He seemed pleased as your voice grew higher in pitch, whimpers of neediness consuming your every vocal cord. 
“Blade! Blade!” His name was the only thing you could think of even saying at the moment, like he had completely branded his name onto your brain. Nothing else mattered but the pleasure he fucked into you, the electricity of being at his mercy. It was everything you loved.
“Oh fuck, your gonna be mine again, right?” His hands returned to your thighs, nails digging into your skin, bruising your sensitive body. His thrusts slowed down when you didn’t answer fast enough, a cruel grin on his face.
“Come on, I didn’t fuck you dumb yet, did I?” He chuckled again, one eyebrow raised as he accentuated his point with sharp, hard thrusts. It felt like he was bruising your insides, your body tightening and squeezing his cock with each movement. 
“N-no,” you managed to mutter out, gasping as he hit you with another sharp roll of his hips. 
“Then are you mine?” He stopped fucking you completely, eyes burning into you as he stared down at your body. Naked and vulnerable, at the mercy of Blade. He was a dangerous man, a wanted criminal. And he was everything you wanted.
“I’m yours.”
A cruel smile curled onto his face and he was fucking into you again, harder than before, so fast your mind couldn’t keep up. Drool dripped down your chin, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 
For a moment, you wondered why he didn’t change your position. Back then you’d end up on your stomach somehow, his favorite position taking you from behind like animals. But he kept staring at you, panting and moaning in that dark voice of his. All he wanted was to keep looking at you, like you were an illusion, like you would disappear if he looked away.
“Yes. Yes you’re mine. All mine,” he lowered his mouth to your throat, his teeth digging into your soft skin, drawing blood. He sucked at your wound, his hand moving to your clit, rubbing in languid circles that didn’t match his violent thrusting.
You felt your gut churn, the heat in your body tightening, wanting to burst with each hit of his cock inside of you. You threw your arms around him, pulling his body flush against him, your own nails digging into his back. 
Blade chuckled, at least it sounded like he was trying to. It was a puff of air, rhythmic like a laugh, combined with needy groans, while also being muffled by your throat and the blood that flowed into his mouth.
With the addition of his fingers pleasing you, you could feel your body shivering and quaking like before. Pressure building up, your body tightening and strangling his cock inside. You heard him curse into your throat, hips stuttering against your hips, a loud moan against you. 
Fingers dug even harder into your thighs, spurts of violent growls and moans into your skin leaving his throat. It mingled with your own loud whimpers, both of your bodies rutting against one another as you came violently. You could feel his warm spurting into you, dripping slowly out of you, down your legs, a mess beneath your bodies onto the table.
“Ha—ha, mine…mine…”
His moans relaxed over time, gasping from the overexertion. It was becoming harder for him to keep himself up, his body lowering to lay onto you, keeping himself nestled deep into you while his body twitched into you. The overstimulation from the quick mini thrusts, causing you to squirm beneath him with little whimpers.
“Blade…” his name was a gasp from you, your eyes slowly opening, coming back to reality. His eyes had softened, his hand grazing softly against your cheek. A soft look he had always given you in the past, one full of love and affection. Even when he had changed so much, his feelings for you had simply been hidden beneath his pride and pain. Feelings that showed now as he had allowed himself to be vulnerable in this very moment.
“I don’t know where this leads,” he murmurs, his deep voice hypnotizing in a way that felt so natural and lovely. “But you are the only memory I have that doesn’t bring me pain.”
You smiled lovingly at him, allowing your own affection to show. Your hands held his own face, guiding him down to you to press your forehead against his own. Despite the unknown of the future, despite everything that made your relationship difficult to rekindle, you had right here and right now. And with everything you’ve dealt with, having a right here, right now moment was perfect.
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periprose · 11 months
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Florence - Masterlist
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You and Peter Parker are former childhood best friends. As next door neighbours, you and him spent a great deal of time together, either at school, playing video games, or during your yearly summer vacations at Florence, Italy.
But after you drifted away from him- you both went to different colleges, and you figured you wouldn't need to bother him anymore with your unrequited crush that you had never spoken of but clearly showed symptoms of- things are very awkward. It's even more so when you receive an invitation to Harry and MJ's destination wedding, located at Florence, of course.
Former childhood friends to friends to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, possessive/protective!Peter, lots of partying, Italian culture and architecture, lavish luxury stuff, MJ's modelling career, fluff and angst and eventual smut, wedding stuff, flashbacks to childhood, and probably just way too much detail, dialogue, and banter
No use of y/n, you go by your last name and you are Logan Howlett's daughter. You go by Howlett or Lettie for short.
Using the TASM cast and Hugh Jackman as Wolverine. I personally imagine Alexina Graham or Fernanda Ly as MJ, but you're welcome to imagine any redhead you'd like.
Also on AO3
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
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evanbegins · 27 days
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🔥 i got a bad desire, i'm on fire
word count: 8.7k
rating: E
chapter 1/2
please check out @aroeddiediaz's kitty petplay fic that inspired this all!
He’s blunt when he says, “I want to try pet play.”
Buck blinks at him, and Eddie can tell that his boyfriend’s trying not to show how eager he is at those words. He took a minute to process it, obviously, but he’s looking at Eddie without a little bit of surprise, instead a little bit of giddiness at the admission. At least it’s not a weirded-out expression or anything. He notices how Buck tries to stop the slight, tentative smile forming on his face, cheeks a little pink, blue eyes sparkling and twinkling, “Really?”
“Don’t look so excited,” Eddie caved a little, shaking his head with an indulgent and mildly-unwanted grin, hand coming up and out of his pockets to drag down his face a little. God, it’s still embarrassing, even after saying the first big words. “Yeah, I wanna try it, Buck.”
Or: Eddie finds that he wants Buck to treat him like a kitty. Buck can make that work.
tags: @cal-daisies-and-briars @thosetwofirefighters @elvensorceress @theotherbuckley @tizniz @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @diazsdimples @nmcggg @loserdiaz @queerdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @knightlywonders @steadfastsaturnsrings @pirrusstuff @wildlife4life @gibuckaroo
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britany1997 · 1 year
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Fate Yields for No One
Masterlist
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Poly! Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader
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Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
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waytooinvested · 5 days
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Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 1
Still reeling from finding out the truth herself, Lena suddenly finds herself in the midst of an odd role reversal in which she knows that Kara is Supergirl, but Kara no longer has any idea she has ever been more than an ordinary human.
And what’s more, Lena has no choice but to keep the truth from her for her own protection…
This and previous chapters also on AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alex: Have you seen Kara?
Lena glanced at her phone and raised an eyebrow at the text lighting up her screen.
That woman had such a nerve.
She ignored the message and turned back to her computer, only to have another text ping in five minutes later.
Alex: Seriously Lena, she was due back hours ago and I haven’t heard anything. I need to know where she is.
Lena huffed irritably, but gave in.
Lena: I have no idea where she is. Kara and I are no longer friends, remember? I’m sure she’ll turn up in her own time.
Lena: We both know she can look after herself.
Alex didn’t respond again, so naturally Lena assumed that Kara had indeed turned up in her own time, and that everything had been fine after all.
That is, until she saw the headline in the news a week later:
SUPERGIRL MISSING?
She almost didn’t click the link.
Since she had found out the truth about Kara three months ago, Lena had done her best to comprehensively uproot the weed of their friendship from her life, and so far had been reasonably successful.
She had deleted Kara’s number from her phone before she had even made it back to her jet after her run in with Lex.
On the flight home she had called her assistant and asked her to make sure that Kara Danvers was escorted off the premises immediately should she show up at L-Corp, and had left a similar message with the security staff in her apartment complex.
Selling Catco had taken a little longer, but only because dealing with such a large asset could not be rushed. She might have been in pain, but Lena was a shrewd business woman and ensured that the sale was made with a hefty profit, the value of the company boosted by the revenue generation improvements she had made while in charge. She had also wanted to take her time to pick the perfect boss for Kara: someone who would inarguably make the magazine more profitable as a business than it had ever been before, while systematically and comprehensively destroying everything about it that had made Kara love her job there.
The new three year contracts with a non-compete clause thrown in had been a nice touch.
She could have taken her revenge further than that – had even planned exactly how she would do it.
The night of Kara’s Pulitzer prize. A damning speech about truth and lies, followed by Andrea Rojas leading the exposure of Supergirl’s secret identity to the world. Betrayal returned like for like, and Kara left as broken hearted as Lena had been.
Oh yes, she could have done it. Luthors were scorpions, and Lena knew how to sting.
But something had held her back from taking the final plunge that would have ripped safety and anonymity so irrevocably from Kara’s life. She wanted to believe it was her own compassion – an innate goodness that led her towards the moral high ground and made her fundamentally better than the Luthors she had so often sought to distance herself from, but it wasn’t true.
The reason she hadn’t done it was Lex.
Maybe if she had managed to pull the trigger last time they met, if she had murdered her own brother in cold blood for the sake of her traitorous false-friend, maybe then she would have done it. If Lex was dead and buried and out of her life for good, Lena could finally have stepped out of his shadow and stopped framing every decision she made against what he would have done. But Lex was still out there somewhere, laying low for now but undoubtedly still scheming, killing, making the worst decisions a human being could make while still being labelled as such, and that made a difference.
Revealing Supergirl’s identity to the world was a plan that Lex would have wanted her to carry out.
And so Lena hadn’t.
That had been enough at first, but as the weeks passed and the first fire of her rage cooled from white hot inferno to mere black smith’s forge fire, she found she was glad that she hadn’t taken the nuclear option. Kara might have deserved retribution for what she had done, but exposing her identity would put everyone she knew, including the entirety of the Catco staff and her unsuspecting apartment neighbours in serious danger from every human and alien criminal out there with a weapon and a score to settle, and Lena wanted no more innocent blood on her hands than had already been passed down to her as part of her dubious Luthor inheritance.
And she didn’t want Kara to die.
That didn’t mean she cared if Supergirl really had gone AWOL. She had had nothing to do with it, and it was none of her concern anymore...
Lena clicked the link.
According to this site, Supergirl had been observed flying off to the north of National City on an ‘unknown errand’ eight days previously and had not been seen since, leaving two major bank robberies, a fire at a children’s hospital and a collapsed ceiling at a swimming pool without support from ‘everyone’s favourite hometown hero’.
Eight days. That tallied with how long it had been since Alex had asked if she knew where Kara was, allowing for the full day that had passed before the DEO Director had made the decision to reach out to her. It struck Lena now that it was an odd thing for her to have done under normal circumstances. She might not have done anything to Alex specifically during the first fierce storm of her separation from their little group – at least not beyond a few short, sharp words and a door slammed in her face – but Alex had taken Lena’s swift and total removal of Kara from her life if anything even worse than Kara herself had, and had been round to yell at her over hurting Kara’s poor little feelings before the end of the first week.
She must have been desperate to have reached out to Lena like that after all this time.
Now she was looking for them, Lena found that there were dozens of similar stories popping up, ranging from serious think pieces about what this could mean for National City and Supergirl’s own welfare, to tabloid trash that suggested she might be having some sort of torrid three way affair with a sexually promiscuous alien couple from Saturn (why Saturn? Unclear. What was clear was that the entire story was utter garbage apart from one essential point: Supergirl was nowhere to be found).
Lena picked up her phone and tapped in Kara’s number, her chest tight with unease as she waited for the call to connect.
Of course she knew Kara’s number by heart. If she hadn’t she would never have been able to make herself delete it from her contacts.
It rang.
Maybe Kara was carrying a big stack of files and didn’t have a hand free to get her phone out of her back pocket.
And rang.
Maybe she was in the shower and didn’t want to rush out to answer the phone while wet and covered in shampoo.
And-
‘Hi this is Kara! I can’t get to the phone right now, but please leave me a message and I’ll get back-’
Maybe she was just screening Lena’s call. After everything that had happened between them it was what most people would have done, and Lena would understand that.
She hung up and redialled.
‘Hi this is Kara! I can’t-’
Kara would never have ignored a second call from Lena. No matter how angry she was, if she could pick up the phone, she would have done so by now.
Again.
‘Hi this is-’
She tried Alex instead.
This time, the phone was picked up before the end of the first ring.
‘Do you have Kara?’
A stone thudded into the pit of Lena’s stomach.
‘She really is missing then?’
‘Fuck. Yes she’s missing. You didn’t even know?’
‘Not until I saw it on the news just now. When I didn’t hear anything more from you after that last text I assumed she’d made it back safely’.
‘No, you had just answered my question and clearly didn’t want to help, so-’
‘Yes well, I thought she had just taken a detour to France for crepes or something, not that she was actually gone’.
‘Right, and you were so concerned you waited a week to check’.
‘Much as it may surprise you to learn this Alex, I don’t make a habit of keeping tabs on people who have betrayed me. So if you don’t want my help finding Supergirl I’ll just-’
‘No, Lena, wait. Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m just worried about her. If I send you the co-ordinates for her last known location do you think you could see if you can find anything? She went after this weird energy signature we’d picked up, but then her radio went dark and we couldn’t get anything else from her. We went out there to see if she was in some kind of trouble, but the place she was headed: it’s just a field. There’s nothing there, not even a trace of the energy we got before, and no sign of a struggle or any kind of indication of where she went next’.
‘Send me what you have and I’ll see what I can do’.
‘Sending it now’.
Less than a minute later Alex’s email arrived with the relevant details about Supergirl’s last known location attached, as well as everything they knew about the energy signature she had been investigating.
It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, except-
There was something vaguely familiar about the signature. It reminded her of…
Lex.
It reminded her of Lex, and the trap he had once devised to lure in a certain type of pseudo-photosynthesetic alien who fed on a very particular wavelength of light that wasn’t naturally produced by Earth’s yellow sun. Once it was absorbed the aliens could be hooked up to a generator that would produce massive amounts of electricity and could have made fossil fuels all but redundant overnight. In theory. In practise however Lex had never been able to make the conversion work, and had eventually given up on the plan.
So why was it showing up again now? And what did it have to do with Kara’s disappearance? It seemed far too much of a coincidence to imagine that the two things were unconnected, especially when Lex was the common thread.
Quickly, Lena skimmed through her options, and picked one she could adapt to this new purpose. The DEO had been scanning for days with no luck, but she had one thing they didn’t.
She knew her brother.
It took another two hours to fine tune the software and upload it to a satellite with scanning capabilities, but at last it was ready. She cast a wide net, centred on the location Alex had given her but stretching out from it to search a 30 mile radius. If it really was Lex then the place he had lured Supergirl was a decoy, and would be located well away from wherever he actually wanted her to end up.
She had to extend her search parameters twice, but at last she found it. Not the same energy signature – that would be too obvious. No, what Lena had been looking for was the special coded frequency that Lex had developed in his teens. To most people it would look like background radio noise, but Lena knew better.
It was him alright.
She reached for her phone to call Alex, then hesitated. All she had actually done was locate her brother, or at least somewhere he was broadcasting from. But the site was more than 80 miles from where Kara had last been seen, and Lena was working on a hunch rather than any kind of real evidence that Lex had taken her.
Besides, if the DEO got him they would just send him back to jail, and it had become abundantly clear that a maximum security cell was not enough to contain him.
No, Lena was going to have to do this herself. She would find Lex, and if he really had kidnapped Kara, she would finish what she had started the night he revealed the truth about Supergirl.
She was going to kill him.
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mandoalorian · 1 year
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Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]
ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 9: The Assemblage ✩࿐ ˚.✧
Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.
Word Count: 2500
Warnings: Din being an adorable husband comes with his own warning. Lots of feels!
AN: Did anyone expect me to return after abandoning this fic for a year? When I promised to finish Borrowed Time, I meant it. Please reblog to spread this around! It’s not showing up in tags! i think i’m still shadow banned:(
Series Masterlist
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You woke up the next morning to the glittering, golden sunshine beaming down onto your face. You felt the unfamiliar sensation of strong, warm arms cradling your body, and you slowly discovered through your recollection of the events of the previous night, you were pressed into the embrace of The Mandalorian. Your Mandalorian. Your husband. 
You hummed in contentment, not daring to move an inch, afraid to wake him or ruin the moment. You could stay like this forever, not having to worry about being on the run or even reclaiming Mandalore. To stay in this bed in the arms of Din Djarin was all you needed. 
Perhaps it was foolish. After all, you’d only known him for a matter of weeks. But those weeks you spent together during your travel to Nevarro, alongside the sweet, shared moments of intimacy and vulnerability… it was more than enough to satisfy. For as long as you’d remembered, you’d been alone. 
But not anymore. And even if it was all fake, you were happy. You were content. And that was enough. 
But he’d purchased your favourite sourberries when he knew you were hungry, despite them being way out of his typical budget for food. He brought you fuchsia flowers on your wedding day, upon learning that pink was your favourite colour. He removed his helm for your eyes only and even when you lied to him, he stayed true to his word and promised that he’d help you reclaim Mandalore… like his life depended on it.
Because in the last few weeks, you’d given Din a purpose. Sure, he had Grogu, and the little green bean was more than enough to keep him afloat; to keep himself alive so he could protect his son and provide like a real father should. But you made Din feel so differently; unalike anything he’d ever felt before.
“Good morning princess,” he mumbled sleepily, rolling over onto his back and rubbing his tired brown eyes. 
You smiled and nestled your head in the crook of his neck. “Morning Mando,”
“How did you sleep?” Din wondered out loud, hoping last night’s antics had exhausted you as much as it exhausted him. They most certainly had, and you were more than thankful for the rest. It was well needed.
“I slept well,” you replied sweetly, your words following a yawn.
Din chuckled and propped himself up on an elbow, tucking a piece of your stray hair behind your ear and gazing longingly in your eyes. There was something so authentic and beautiful about looking at you without the sheath of his visor. His vision wasn’t framed with binary code and flickering numbers – it was real, it was true.
“Are you ready to reclaim Mandalore?” he asked with a small smirk, clearing his throat and raising a curious eyebrow.
You nudged him playfully and rolled your eyes. You knew it would be a challenge but with him on your side, you had hope for the very first time.
Last night, you had told him the truth, you weren’t the Mand’alor, and he was still willing to help you retrieve the darksaber and reclaim the throne. Deep down, the rule of there only being one leader of Mandalore, and that leader having to wield the darksaber, felt outdated and way too orthodox for your liking. There wasn’t anything wrong with tradition, but times had changed and the surface of Mandalore had been crystallised by fusion beams well before the Imperials had raided and you had fled. If you were to reclaim the throne, then a lot would have to change; starting by melting the crystals and rebuilding what the Imps had destroyed.
Tearing down a tradition that was as constituted as having to wield the darksaber as Mand’alor would be a risky game. But then again, you’d found yourself facing a lot of risks as of late, and maybe you were just getting lucky – or maybe something much bigger was on your side. Some kind of force or mystic energy making sure that you succeed.
One of your fondest memories from when you were a little girl was sitting in your mothers lap as she braided your hair. She rarely spoke about your father, but now and again she revealed little pieces of information that you’d digest in admiration. You knew better than to ask about him, even from a young age. Your mother, Duchess Satine, reassured you that your father would want to be here if he could, if he knew about you, but his job was ‘important and time-consuming’. You didn’t hold resentment towards him – in fact, you could always feel his love for you in your heart. Your mother taught you empathy and so you accepted her words. 
Despite your father never meeting you, you wondered if somehow, deep down, he did in fact know that you were out there. You wondered if he could feel things the way you could. 
Still to this day, you wondered if he was alive, or if the Empire had killed him like they’d killed billions of others. 
“Your father taught me to never give up and always have hope,” your mother whispered, almost like she was reminding herself rather than telling you. “Hope always finds its way.”
You knew very little about your father but if he believed in hope, then so did you. After all, a part of him would always live in you. 
“Are you okay?” Din asked, snapping you out of your daydream. You realised you’d been quiet for quite some time as a result of getting lost in your thoughts.
Feeling your cheeks burn up, you nodded quickly and offered him a smile. “Yeah. Let’s go reclaim Mandalore..” you shot him a toothy grin, leaving the warmth of your bed and finding your clothes from yesterday that were now pooled into a puddle on the floor.
Din watched you get dressed and felt nothing but adoration as he admired the warm summer glow that illuminated your body. He didn’t know how long this marriage would last – he assumed it would be over once you took back the darksaber and returned to Mandalore. 
He just didn’t know if he wanted it to be over.
“We have to find Moff Gideon first… and catch him where he’s most vulnerable.” you said, already concoting a plan as you tied up the laces of your boots. “The day we met, you said you had a friend who works for the New Republic? Maybe they can help us.”
“Yes, Cara,” Din replied, getting out of bed. “But what we really need is an army. The Imps won’t go down without a fight and I’m not sure if we can take them on our own.”
He was right. But where the hell would you find an army? Sure, you could try to come in contact with Bo-Katan; but she had left you the second you’d come of age. A part of you felt like she might not be interested in providing you with help anymore. You were an adult now, and responsible for yourself.
Whilst you weren’t exactly trusting of The New Republic, you did know that they’d do anything in their power to destroy Imperial remnants, which was a good sign. All you had to do was focus on your proposal to Cara.
“Maybe you can speak to Cara? I still have some family – my aunt — I could try to contact her through the holo-projector. Last I heard, she has a unit of her own, the Nite Owls. There’s no guarantee of a response but I should at least try. We need all the help we can get.” 
Din placed a chaste yet lingering kiss on your forehead. “We’ll get Grogu and I’ll pay Cara a visit. You and Grogu will stay here on the Crest where it’s safe. But in the meantime, try to contact your aunt.”
“Wait–” you paused, standing up and leaning against the door of the Razor Crest before Din could leave. “Do you really want Grogu to come with us? This is a war. Perhaps he’d be safer here, with the Armorer.” you delicately suggested.
Din exhaled, his breathing now modulated by the all too familiar beskar helmet. “I will always worry for him,” Din admitted. “But he would be the strongest asset to our team. We need him.”
You nodded your head, trusting the bounty hunter’s judgement. When has he ever been wrong about anything? You knew that Din would never put the child in danger, no matter what.
When Din had left, you set up the holo-projector in the hull of the Razor Crest and dialled for your aunt, leader of the Nite Owls. You felt a wave of anxiety flood through your body. It had been so long since she had abandoned you, and although you offered her no ill will, family was all you had. You didn’t have your mother or your father, but you still had her. 
Bo-Katan Kryze.
Her face illuminated the holo-projector in a jaggedy blue colour, but she recognised you right away, and offered you a warm smile.
“Wow, look how you’ve grown,” Bo-Katan beamed, and you couldn’t help but feel the corners of your lips curl into a smile.
“It’s been a while,” you acknowledged shyly. You might have changed, but your aunt certainly hadn’t. “Listen, I need your help.”
Bo-Katan narrowed her eyes. “What is it? Are you in danger?”
“No… no, I’m fine. I’ve never been better actually,” you felt your cheeks warm up at the thought of the man who had been making you so happy as of late. “It’s the darksaber… it’s been stolen from my possession by a man called Moff Gideon. He was an ISB officer during the Purge. And… I need to get it back. If he gets to Mandalore with the darksaber, then all Mandalorians will follow under his rule. And he leads an army of remnant Imperials…”
Bo-Katan was silent and studied your face for a moment before offering you her response. 
“I understand,” Bo-Katan replied, offering you a nod of her head. “I will gather my people and we will come to you. We will help you reclaim the throne. You have my word.”
You were slightly taken aback by how eager she was to assist you.
“Thank you, thank you aunt,” you smiled. “Gideon will be preparing to leave for Mandalore now, no doubt. We need to get there before he does.”
“The Nite Owls and I will leave now and cause distractions if it is so required.” Bo-Katan promised.
You were able to breathe an air of relief knowing that you now had your aunt and her army of Mandalorians on your side. This attack was beginning to feel possible.
Din was amazed with how Karga was slowly beginning to rebuild Nevarro. As he walked through the streets and the alleys, he was struck by wonder and overcome with awe. It was still a work in progress, but Din noted that Karga had begun to rebuild one of the old saloon’s as a school. A place like that would be perfect for Grogu to mix with other kids, the Mandalorian thought.
When Din finally arrived at Cara Dune’s office, he was surprised to see Cara there, as he almost believed she’d be out with the rebels and committing heroic acts. She welcomed Din with a hearty handshake and appeared thrilled to see him.
“Hey! Mando!” she grinned, pulling out a chair for Din to sit on. Din nodded his head in acknowledgement of Cara and silently sat down opposite her. “What brings you to these regions of Nevarro?”
“I’m glad to find you here,” Din stated humbly. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
“We must venture back out to Sorgan and share a vessel of spotchka,” Cara offered and under his helm, Din smiled. “And perhaps you can get reacquainted with that fair maiden who took you and Grogu under her wing, remember?” She smirked.
Din’s smile faded and he was reminded why he was here. “I need your help,” the Mandalorian announced, changing the subject. He almost felt ashamed. Din had never asked anyone for help, he never felt the need to. People required his aid all of the time; hell, that was the nature of his job. He got paid for it. But this time, he hoped that Cara would be there for him the way he needed. “I’m married–”
Cara’s jaw dropped. “Mando, if you’re here for woman advice then I’m not your gal. I can’t believe it. Married–?”
“It’s a long story, but she’s a Mandalorian like me. Actually, she’s more than just a Mandalorian. She’s the princess of Mandalore and she’s had an heirloom stolen from her by Moff Gideon…”
Cara cursed. “You need my help? You got it. I’d do anything to take down that slimy piece of worm-ridden filth.”
There was the familiar Cara Dune that Din had known so well.
“I appreciate it, Cara. We meet on Mandalore at dawn tomorrow.”
“You’ll need an army to take down Gideon,” Cara noted. “Thankfully I have the Rebel Alliance now– my very own squadron. Wherever I go, they will follow, especially if the stakes are Moff Gideon. I’ll help you, Mando, but remember, you have other allies too.”
Din hesitated. “Allies?”
“People who ‘owe you one’,” Cara smiled, nudging her friend playfully. She always found Din’s naive nature endearing. “Your friends. Karga… Mags Mayfeld… and what about the Daimyo of Mos Espa?”
“Boba Fett…” Din pondered out loud.
“There are strong, powerful people who care enough to aid you on this mission. Contact them.” The rebel leader advised. “And once this is all over, you’re paying for the spotchka.”
“Got it.” Din grinned, before turning on his heel and leaving the office.
He ventured back to the Razor Crest but not without Grogu, and not without telling the Armorer about his future endeavours. He didn’t ask her to come alongside him, and the Armorer did not offer. It was simply a procedure to notify the Armorer of his plan, in case he did not return. The Armorer accepted his venture and they parted ways with a simple utterance of their Creed’s code. “This is the way.”
When Din returned to the Crest, you eagerly took Grogu from his arms and snuggled the child into your chest. “I missed you, little one,” you mumbled happily. Grogu cooed in response. You looked up at Din who was now fully masked and armoured. “Did you manage to speak with Cara?”
“Yes, we have the Rebel Alliance on our side,” he announced, and you could practically hear the smile from under his helm.
“That’s good,” you beamed back. “Because I spoke to Bo-Katan and we also have the help of the Nite Owls.”
You followed Din into the cockpit where he began to power up the Crest.
“So, where are we going next? Any final destinations before we hit Mandalore?” you quizzed.
Din booted up the generator. “Tatooine,” he replied. “An old friend owes me a big favour.”
_________________________________________
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terror-slut · 2 years
Text
Change of Heart // Peter Ballard
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Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.
Updates are not according to a set schedule.
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Prefer to read this fic on AO3? Click here!
You can listen to the Change of Heart playlist here.
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randomwriting-misc · 2 years
Text
Endangered | Chapter Ten
Paul Lahote x OFC
Endangered Masterlist
Summary: Vampires and wolves are not the only supernatural creatures to walk the earth, and they are certainly not the only ones in Forks, Washington when Charlotte Annabeth Swan, "Anna", moves in with her uncle after the unfortunate demise of her parents.
Some may misidentify her as a witch, but that’s fine, she would rather them think that anyway. But the Volturi know the truth, and they are closing in on her.
A/N: We are getting spicy here friends. 18+ warning for the end on this chapter
Warnings include: penetration, fingering, oral (fem receiving), cursing, Paul being a simp
MINORS DNI!!!!!
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Charlie made me cry one more time that morning, by ordering pancakes from the diner and bringing them home for me, continuing the tradition I was sure would be forgotten since Bella’s birthday. It was just us at the table, but that was okay, it was always just the two of us nowadays.  
It's now almost 11:30, and I’m in front of my mirror, staring intently over the clothes I had on. I didn’t want to wear my usual jeans and t-shirt, but the corduroy skirt I was wearing hugged my curves in a way I hadn’t exposed in a while. I was more inclined to be bundled up lately, still not acclimating well to the cold. I had tights on, and after debating for a few more minutes, I figure that if I really get cold, Paul’s 108-degree body heat could help. Sliding an oversized beige sweater over my head, I tucked it into the skirt. Satisfied, I adjust Paul’s bracelet, so it wasn’t under the sleeve, I liked being able to see it.
I added a gold pendant on a long chain that belonged to my mother. It was a sun stamped into gold, and the protection magic in it was actually hers. I am pulling on wool boot socks when I hear Paul knocking on the front door.  
I rush to open it, but as I open my bedroom door, Bella walks out into the hallway at the same time, stopping me in my tracks.  
“Hi,” I say as she looks me over quizzically. She nods, about to walk past me to the bathroom when she stops.  
“Where are you going?” She asks, surprising me. I couldn’t remember the last time I heard her actual voice.  
“Oh, uhm... I’m going to my birthday party.”  
She flinches at the mention of birthdays, and I move to head downstairs, not wanting to cause Charlie more strife tonight by reminding her of the last time she saw the Cullens. As I reach the top step, she calls my name.  
“Anna? Happy birthday,” there’s a tinge of regret in her tone, and I force myself to smile and say thank you.  
Charlie has beaten to the door where Paul stands in jeans and a Henley shirt. They are engaged in what seems to be a meaningful conversation, Charlie’s hand on Paul’s shoulder. Charlie is speaking lowly so I can’t hear, and Paul’s face is void of any telling emotion. I clear my throat to announce my presence.  
“Ready?” I ask. They both turn to face me, and I can feel the relief Paul feels from my interruption, followed by another emotion I can’t discern as he looks me over.
“Yeah,” Charlie says, “I hope you have a good time Anna, be safe, be responsible, no peer pressure and all that.”  
“Got it, Uncle Charlie. No intravenous drugs, just the tame stuff,” I say, walking over to Paul in the doorway, putting an arm around him.  
“Haha, very funny,” he says dryly, “Happy Birthday kid, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Nodding, I grab my bag that was already by the door. I’m not sure how Paul got Charlie to agree to stay overnight with everyone, but I’m sure Emily had something to do with it. I say goodbye as we walk to Paul’s truck.  
“You look gorgeous as always,” he says helping me up into the passenger seat, that same discernible feeling thrumming through my chest.  
----------------------------
“Happy Birthday!” A chorus of voices greets me as I enter Emily’s house, making me shriek back in shock, then laugh. Sam and Jared are in front, with Emily and Kim by their sides, and scattered around the room are some of my friends from school, Mike, Eric, Angela, and Jessica. With Bella isolating herself so much, we had all banded together, bonding over our concern and feelings of abandonment from the other Swan. In her absence, Mike had even turned some of his flirty attention on me, I’m shocked Paul invited him.  
Emily’s house has a gorgeous open concept, with large French doors leading to the backyard, where everything is decorated. Smiling faces crowd me one by one as they take turns giving me hugs. On the table, Emily has laid out an array of food, I can smell something on the grill in the backyard.
I thank everyone and they shortly break off into smaller groups, Sam and Jared go back outside, and to my surprise, Eric and Mike follow. I turn to Paul, wrapping my arms around his neck in a hug.  
“Thank you,” I whisper, “You were right, I would have been sad without celebrating today.”
“Of course, love,” he says lifting me off the ground for a moment. When he puts me down, he tells me he’s going to check in with Emily and Kim, making sure there wasn’t anything else they needed help with, and instructing me to go see my friends, and to not lift a finger.  
Jessica and Angela are giggling on the couch, and they pull me between them when I approach them.
“Anna, you have been gatekeeping,” Angela says.  
“Yeah,” Jessica chimeds in, “At first, I was kinda pissed when you kept blowing us off, but now? If I was surrounded by multiple tall, darks, and handsomes, I wouldn’t be hanging out with us either.”  
I throw my head back in a laugh, “It’s not like that. I love you guys. I just don’t get to see Paul all the time with his schedule.”
“Mhm, sure, do any of them have single friends or brothers?” Jessica asks.
“Not that I know of, but if I meet anyone who fits that description, I’ll let you know,” I wink, sending them into another fit of giggles.  
Paul steps out of the kitchen talking along with Emily and Kim, when his eyes land on mine, he winks, and I know he heard our conversation. Rolling my eyes, I lean back as Emily and Kim join us as he walks outside.  
“Like I said, "Jessica whispers, “I get it. I don’t know what is about you Swan girls seducing the hottest people in town, but I would like some of it.” A small surge of jealously runs through me, but I laugh it off. Excusing myself, I go out to see the boys surrounding the grill.  
“Are you all supervising?” I joke, pushing Jared away to stand next to Sam. Jared playfully shoves me back before letting me into the semi-circle the boys had made.  
“Well, who else is going to make sure Sam doesn’t burn anything?” Jared says sarcastically.  
“Are you doubting his mad skills?” I say, feigning shock. Paul's arms wrap around my shoulders from behind me, kissing my head.
“We would never,” Paul says, a smile evident in his voice. Eric and Mike agree, and I’m happy to see everyone is getting along. Soon, the food is ready, and everyone comes outside as Jared starts a bonfire.  
It’s a perfect afternoon, full of laughter and joy, something I was worried I would lack today. In the middle of Eric recounting a story about how Mike tried and failed, to surf a storm surge on La Push Beach, Paul nudges my shoulder, getting my attention.  
“Come with me,” he whispers. Helping me up, I follow him to the front of the house.  
“Where are we going?” I ask.  
“One of your birthday presents just got here,” Paul says like that would explain everything. Before I could ask what he could mean, Jacob steps out from behind a car, and I freeze. I had missed him so much in the last few months but wasn’t willing to let him continue to act like that towards me.
Looking at Paul skeptically, he nods, and I break out in a smile.  
“Hey Anna,” he says timidly, “Happy Birthday.” I run to hug him, catching him off guard and he grabs onto me, the breath knocked out of him.  
“Hi Jake,” I mumble.  
“I owe you an apology,” he says sincerely, and I pull back from him.  
“Yeah, you do, but later? I’m just happy to have you here as long as you can play nice.” I poke the center of his chest.  
“Scout’s honor,” he says holding up his hand. I smile and grab his hand leading him back to the fire to introduce him to the new faces. Paul follows beside me, and I open a connection to him briefly.  
This means the world to me, thank you so much.
Anything to see you smile, he replies.
Jacob is just in time for Emily to bring out the cake, and I hope that this will show him that there isn’t anything nefarious going on in our group. The rumor that Sam started a gang was absolutely ludicrous.
The “Happy Birthday” song is loud and terribly off-key, but somehow it just makes it better. I laugh so hard I almost can’t blow out my candles, as cheers erupt around me at the table. Paul kisses me on the cheek and leads me away from everyone as Emily passes out pieces to everyone.
“I wanted to give you your present,” he says softly, holding out a small, wrapped box.
Curious, I open it, trying to not rip the paper, which makes him chuckle.
Opening the box, my breath hitches, revealing a necklace. There’s a dainty gold chain, a singular pearl in the middle.
“I wanted to give you a little piece of home to keep with you,” he says showing me the name of the company, located where I grew up.
For the third time that day, a few tears fall down my face.
“Thank you,” I whisper, “This is more than I could ever ask for.” He silences me with a kiss, taking the necklace out of the box. I turn around and lift my hair up so he can secure the clasp, before turning around. My hands find the sides of his face and I pull him in for another kiss, his soft lips against mine, he holds me close. His lips part slightly, deepening it as I run a hand through his hair.
“I love you,” he breathes, breaking the kiss, peppering small pecks across my cheeks and nose. Suddenly, the discernable feeling from before clicks, love. I knew on some level we loved each other, but to hear him say it made my heart soar.
“I love you too,” I admit, giggling as his lips ghost over a ticklish spot on my neck. Picking me up, my legs lock around his waist as he kisses me feverishly, hands steadying my hips. The feeling of love pulsing between us.
I whisper his name as little breathy moans escape me, his lips making their way down my neck.  
“Would you like to stay the night with me? At my place?” he asks, switching to kiss the other side of my neck, I lean my head back in a gasp.
“What about-?”
“He’s gone for the weekend, it’ll be okay.” He reassures.
I nod and he lowers me back to the ground as rowdy noises from the living room are heard.
“Let’s go back before the start wondering where you are.”  
Flustered, we walk back to the group. I sit on the couch, and Paul walks over to help Emily. I pout at the distance, but Jacob sits down next to me.
“Hey Jake,” I smile.
“Hey, how ya holdin’ up?” He puts an arm on the back of the couch behind me, and I lean my head on him, turning to face him. His skin is warm to the touch. I wonder how long it’ll be before Jake is put through the change.
“Surprisingly well, it would have been a lot worse without them,” I say, looking over at my friends. Sam is messing with the frosting, getting some on Emily’s nose as she tries to chase him off, Paul is talking to Eric and Jared, laughing about something I can’t hear. Jessica, Angela, and Mike are talking to Kim, with smiles on their faces.
“You really like being around them?” He asks skeptically.
“Yeah, I love it. They are really amazing Jake,” I say, crossing my arms and lowering my voice, “I don’t know why you seem to hate them so much.”
“They just act like they are in control like the Reservation is theirs and only theirs,” He says, “But hey, whatever makes you happy.” He throws his hand up in defeat. I can tell he’s still not happy about it all, but it’s better than having him hold animosity towards me.
“Paul makes me happy,” I say confidently.
“Well, let me know if he fucks up, I’ll defend your honor before saying anything snarky.”
Laughing, I push him away, and he falls back dramatically.
“Sure, I’ll keep it in mind Jake.”
He laughs, and my heart warms to have Jacob back in my life, even if it might be a tentative process.
As the sun sets, things wind down and people start to leave, saying goodbye to everyone on their way out. I try to help Emily and Sam clean up, but she shoos me away.
“No, we got it. Go, I’m sure Paul wants some time alone with you,” she says with a grin.
“Are you sure?” I ask again.
“Positive.”
“Thank you so much for everything today, Em,” I hug her, “it really means a lot. I love you all.”
“We love you too sweet girl, I’m happy we got to help make today special for you,” she squeezes me again.
Paul is leaning against the doorframe, silently waiting as I say goodbye and thank you to Sam. Paul has already gathered the presents, I haven’t opened yet in his truck from everyone at the party, and even Charlie.
The couple waves us off as Paul pulls out of the driveway.
------------------------------- 18+ -----------------------------
The air is thick with tension on the drive over, and the radio playing lightly is the only sound. Paul’s hand is on my thigh, the other on the steering wheel. My thoughts are chaotic, ranging from innocent to lustful. There had always been an unspoken intimacy with Paul, one of us was always touching the other without thinking about it too much.
It’s not like either of us were particularly virginal, but it felt like first kisses, first dates, first anything held more weight with him. I didn’t want anything to be rushed, and we both had been so busy, that sex was something that I was comfortable waiting for until we were both fully present, with no distractions or worries to call us away.
It was at the forefront of my mind now though, every touch of his thumb grazing my thigh felt like electricity through my body. There was a knot in my lower stomach, and warmth between my thighs. I was focused on breathing, trying to not make it so obvious how much he was affecting me.
Paul’s emotions seem to match mine, but there’s a distinct feeling of anxiety that worries me. Pulling up to his house, he gets out and opens my door, just like always, but I stop him before he steps back, pulling him close. My breath stutters as my knees settle on either side of his waist. Something flashes in his eyes before he closes them, taking a deep breath.
“Hey,” I whisper, “Everything okay?”
He nods, forehead leaning against mine.
“What are you thinking about so hard,” I question quietly. It takes a minute, but he finally admits his concerns.
“I love you,” he starts, hands sliding up my thigh, over my skirt, “I want… this, but I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes won’t meet mine with his confession out in the open.
I tilt his head up, making direct eye contact, “You won’t break me,” I say.
“You don’t know that.” His brow furrows, but I hold him steady, caressing his cheeks.
“I do Paul, I trust you implicitly, with every part of me.” Lowering my hand, I guide his to my waist.
“Anna,” he whispers.
“Paul,” I whisper back, moving closer to him, the fabric of my skirt bunching up my thighs.
“You don’t understand how much I want you,” he admits.
“Then show me.”
One arm wraps around my waist, lifting me out of the truck like I weigh nothing, as the other slams the door shut. He carries me into the house, and I’m too focused on him to really notice my surroundings as he pushes my back against a wall.  
“Promise me you will tell me to stop if I hurt you.” He pleads with me.  
I hold his face in my hands, “I promise, but you won’t.”
I roll my hips into him slightly, and he groans at the friction, his head rolling back, giving me access to kiss down his neck. At his moans, I slightly nip at his shoulder as he emits a growl.  
“Anna,” he says breathily.  
“Yes?” I say, continuing to kiss his neck, hands slipping underneath his shirt.  
“You’re killing me,” he moans.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Never.”  
I lift his shirt, and he raises his arms, letting me take it off all the way. He catches my lips in a passionate kiss, holding me gently as he moves from the wall to what I assume is his bedroom. I kick off my shoes as he lays me down on a bed. I rest on my forearms, looking up at him.
“God, you’re hot,” I sigh, making him smirk. Kneeling by the edge of the bed, his hands slide underneath my skirt, he pulls off my tights agonizingly slowly, kissing the exposed skin from my thighs down my legs. I swear I can hear my heartbeat.
“And you,” he says, pulling my shirt up, kissing my stomach, “are absolutely perfect.” I lean up to take off my top, and once it’s over my head, he kisses me again, this time more passionate and needy. I wrap my arms around his neck and part my lips, inviting him deeper. I moan into him as his fingertips run up my sides, giving me chills, as he unhooks my bra and I let it fall off my shoulders.
I trace down his chest with my hands, his hardened abs underneath them, down to his waistband. Unbuttoning his shorts, I feel him straining against his boxers as he takes a sharp breath when my hand slips underneath the elastic, wrapping around him.
“Fuck, Anna,” he rasps.
I smile, his reactions forming a tightness in my core. He takes a step back off the bed, letting his pants and boxers fall, and looks at me with hungry eyes. Pulling off my skirt, I can’t help but stare. It really was unfair how attractive he was, and my heart leaps when my eyes trail down to his hips, his impressive length hard against him.
“Oh, fuck me,” I mutter, head falling back on the bed, “You’re unreal.”
He lets out a small laugh and comes back to the bed leaving sweet kisses on my ribs and chest.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“I’m so sure,” I say, running a hand through his hair.
He grasps my hip tightly, and in response, a gasp rips through me, and he looks up in concern.
“It’s okay,” I say, “I’m not that fragile.”
Nodding, he kisses down the valley between my breasts, thumbs ghosting over my nipples, hardening them as his hands trail down, making me arch my back in a moan.
“Rude,” I whisper as he continues down, nipping at my hips. Spreading my legs slightly apart, I inhale as his finger glides in between my folds, eliciting a moan from both of us.
“You’re so wet me for, baby,” he whispers as one finger enters me slowly, all my words are lost as his tongue laps at my clit, sending a shock through my spine. I bucked my hips against him, and he moans, his voice deep, sending vibrations to my core. He steadies my hips with his other arm, pushing them into the bed.
“Oh, fuck Paul,” I moan, and I feel him smile as his tongue moves in circles, and I continue to struggle to move for more connection. My hands run through his hair, and I’m pleased with myself when he moans when I tug at it.
Pressure builds, and I feel myself tightening around his fingers, holding onto his hair, he’s relentless as the pressure breaks, waves of pleasure rocking through me. I’m breathless as he kisses back up my body.
“I love you,” he says, biting my neck gently. I finally catch my breath, hands running down his back.
“I love you too.”
He kisses me gently, and I can still taste myself on his tongue. I can feel the tip of his cock, rubbing up and down the length of my entrance, and moan.
“Please,” I beg, and a growl slips from him. He nods and moves to retrieve a condom from the bedside table, I take it from him, and he stands upon his knees. I slowly pull the condom over his length, purposefully taking my time as he stares down at me, biting his lip. Then, he lightly pushes me back on the bed.
Slowly, he pushes in, stretching me out with every inch, I arch to pull him closer, bottoming him out in me with a gasp.
“God, Anna,” he groans, “this is unfair.” He holds still for a moment, breathing deeply before moving out and back in one time.
“It should be impossible for you to feel this good,” he says, an arm reaching underneath my back to pull me close to him, skin to skin.
“I think that’s all you baby,” I say, my thighs already trembling around him.
With slow movements, he finds a rhythm, whispering encouragements into my ear as he picks up speed.
“You feel so good.”
“Such a good girl for me.”
“My pretty baby.”
His words strike a chord with me, not only arousing me, but warming my heart, and once again he pushes me to the edge. I can feel how he feels even more now, bliss running through my body and his.
I’m a moaning mess when his hand slips between us, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, unraveling me.
“Paul,” I cry, “I’m – I-” I stutter.
“Fuck baby, me too.” He says, keeping the pressure on my clit, gasping when I tighten around him rolling my hips one last time.
He collapses against me, breathing hard. Gasping as he slowly pulls out of me and laid next to me.
I lay my head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.
He kisses my head, hands lazily running up and down my back.
“Are you okay?” He tentatively asks.
“I’m amazing,” I say pushing his hair back, “You’re amazing.”
He smiles, relieved.
“Have I told you I love you?” He asks and smiles.
“Maybe, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”
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Taglist: @abaker74 @sunsetevergreen
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scenecipriano · 1 month
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Time Stands Still
Description: When Alastor makes his big return Vox becomes on edge. Seven years ago he thought the Radio Demon had died, but now with his return Vox can't help but feel that his time was coming. So, he takes matters into his own hands. With a little help he gets rid of Alastor, but will he regret it once he sees just how the Radio Demon truly impacted the way Hell operates?
TW: Guns, violence, implied character death, swearing.
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Prologue: Seven Years Prior
It was the same song and dance, Vox vs Alastor, Television vs Radio. A tale that is getting just as old and overrated as Valentino’s porn scripts. Something about this battle felt final though, the two Overlords hitting each other with their best, throwing insults back and forth. 
“I must say, you’ve become a lot more entertaining since our last spat!” Alastor exclaims as he blocks one of Vox’s wires. 
“You say that every time we fight, you washed up comedian.” 
It was his turn to dodge an attack, this back and forth was becoming irritating. This wouldn’t even be happening if the deer had just agreed to their deal. 
“Still wishing I had said yes to your terms?” 
Vox narrows his eyes at Alastor, his electric blue teeth gritted in irritation. How dare this smarmy bastard mock him? He wasn’t wishing he had said yes, it would have been fine if he had considered it. Just think of what the two of them could do if they were to team up, why they could even possibly overthrow Lucifer himself. 
“Why would I wish that you had said yes? Why, your broadcasts are mediocre at bes-'' A pained gasp interrupts Vox’s insult, he looks down and sees one of Alastors shadowy tendrils protruding his abdomen. 
“What did you just say?” Alastor questions, his voice distorting and eyes resembling that of an old timey radio dial. 
For the first time in his afterlife Vox can say the Radio Demon has finally achieved the ability to make him scared. He watches in horror as Alastor’s form contorts, his antlers growing ten times in size. He struggles to get himself away from the tendril, cursing under his breath when the appendage just digs deeper into his stomach. 
His hand brushes the familiar coolness of his pistol, Val had it specially made for him. It was one of Carmilla Carmine’s creations which meant…
A smirk comes to life on his face, “Ha… Valentino you clever son of a bitch.” 
“What’s so funny?” 
Vox pulls the gun from his side, he relishes in the shock plastered on Alastor’s face as he points it straight at the Radio Demon’s chest. 
“This is, you old timey fuck.” 
The shot rings loud through his speakers, for a moment he thinks he’s missed, but when the tendril dissipates from his abdomen Vox knows he’s hit his mark. He uses his cables to catch himself, standing high and mighty over Alastor. 
In all of his years of seeing Alastor he’s never seen the demon looked so pained as he does right now. 
“Any last words, Al?” Vox asks as he points the gun at Alastor’s head. 
The sound of a laugh track echoes around them, causing the tv demon to furrow his brow in confusion.
“S-Stay tuned.~” 
He’s gone before Vox can take the killing shot. A low distorted growl leaves the tv demon’s mouth as he returns his gun to its holster. 
“Doesn’t matter, he’ll be dead in no time.”
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morwap · 1 year
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄
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nav | eddie munson x f!reader
CONTENT WARNING: SMUT, dom!eddie, sub!reader, p in v, protected sex, blowjob, light choking, fingering, praise, spit, begging, smoking
word count: 2.3k
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Eddie's van was nice, he had redone the inside a few months after he got it and kept working on it till it was to his liking, basically making it a cool place to smoke. a long seat along one side and the other stopped halfway for the door. the seat cushions could be lifted for storage and there were cloth posters stuck onto the ceiling of the van.
you looked around the van, taking in the weed smell mixed with your perfume. Eddie shut the door behind him, before you could even sit down Eddie was turning you and pushing you into the seat, his lips meeting yours.
Eddie's hands went from your back to the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him by them, your crotch was pressed against his. you were already getting wet, faster than last time but maybe it was because it's something that's been on your brain for a few days.
he still tasted like mint and cigarettes, normally the smell let alone the taste of cigarettes would make you scrunch your nose in disgust but now it was a smell you tried to find. you pulled his shirt up, he leaned off of you, breaking the kiss for you to pull off his shirt. you tossed his shirt to the other seats and leaned up to kiss him again.
making out was something you were getting better at, this time you were able to keep up with him, unlike last time when you were a few steps behind. your hands explored his body even though you've done this before it felt just like the first time. Eddie's hands were on your shorts, pulling them down your legs, moving his body so he could get them one leg out then let them dangle from your ankle, you gently kicked your leg and they landed on the passenger seat headrest. Eddie moved back to between your legs.
you could feel how hard he was, how hard you were making him and it gave you confidence. deciding on returning the favor of giving him head, hoping it wouldn't be the worst then him go and talk about it.
you flip your position with help from eddie, you hovered over his crotch and started to move your body down, not breaking the kiss until you had to, slipping down to the floor of the van on your knees, your hands undoing his belt and fly.
Eddie leaned back, licking his lips as he watched you. you tugged his jeans off and moved them to the side.
"you look so fucking pretty on your knees" Eddie muttered, you couldn't help but smile. you pulled his boxers down and let his cock spring up, he was so hard just from dry humping you and it made you feel desired, and powerful.
touching felt just like the first time. your hand on the base of his cock and you moved your hand up and down, precum leaking from his slit already. Eddie let out a low groan, closing his eyes as you continued to stroke him.
you stopped your hand and licked from above your hand to his tip, making eddie open his eyes and look down at you. you looked up and he smiled, you took his tip into your mouth and your hand started moving up and down again. Eddie's hand came to the back of your head, not applying any pressure, just resting there.
"swirl your tongue around it" eddie said, helping you. you took his advice and it made him moan. you could feel his eyes on you, you kept swirling your tongue and he applied a small bit of pressure, you went further down then the pressure left and you came back to meet his hand. over and over this happened, you were getting used to it and he was getting closer and closer.
you went down farther, trying not to gag as he was so close to the back of your throat. you hallowed out your cheeks before coming back to the amount you had before. moving your head up and down. you went down again, Eddie groaned and rolled his head back, taking in his bottom lip with his teeth before looking down at you.
"gotta breathe through your nose if you wanna keep doing that princess," eddie said, breathing heavily. you looked up at him, going down further.
"that's it, breathe through your nose" he instructed, you did, realizing that this was helping you stay taking his cock down your throat for longer before coming up for a breath of air.
"you are doing so good, so fucking good" Eddie moaned. you came back up all the way, a sting of spit connecting your mouth and his cock, you sloppily kissed his tip and then trailed them down his shaft.
Eddie's hand moved to your neck, moving you off his cock.
"come here" he muttered as he pulled you up to his mouth by your neck, his lips meeting yours and his other hand went to your lower back and pushed you closer to him. your hands rested on his thighs.
you praised yourself in your head for being able to keep up with his kisses, Eddie started to inch forward making you go back until you were flat on the carpet that was surprisingly clean.
your hands had moved up to his biceps, his cock would rub against your shirt, his hands started to lift your shirt and you lifted your back up to help until it was all the way off and tossed haphazardly.
Eddie lifted off you, his fingers hooking around your panties and pulling them down and off your body. he sat them on the seat he was sitting on moments ago.
"get on your hands and knees" Eddie ordered as he rested back on his knees. you did as you were told and quickly got onto your knees.
Eddie grabbed your hips roughly, pulling you back to meet his hips which made you gasp, he reached over to the center console and grabbed a condom. opening it and putting it on and tossing the packaging onto the floor. he pushed down on your back and you went onto your elbows then grabbed your hips and moved you however he wanted.
"you're so wet just from sucking me off, holy shit" Eddie teased, his finger moving between your folds. you shivered and clenched around nothing. he pushed one finger into you, moving in and out slowly and gently, once you got used to it he added another. you let out soft moans and rocked back onto his fingers which made him smile. Eddie fought the urge to go down on you because his cock was throbbing, being edged by himself was not the plan for today but it happened and now he just wanted to be inside your sweet cunt.
his hand left your cunt and went to his cock, grabbing it and moving it up and down your cunt, getting your arousal all over the tip of his cock, he made sure to pass over your clit a few times. he stopped at your entrance and pushed in.
you inhaled sharply, the stretch felt good, so much different than last time.
Eddie's eyes rolled back as his head go back, and his mouth hung open as he was fully inside you. you felt so good, every time he thought about the last time he tried to mimic it with his hand but now feeling you for the second time his memory couldn't have been more wrong. his nails dug into your hips, you felt so good.
you started moving back and forth which brought him out of his own head, he grunted as he stopped your hips and started to move his own. the wet sound got louder and you tried not to be embarrassed.
"I've missed your fuckin' cunt, you feel so good princess" Eddie moaned, your body rocked with his movements. you wanted to say something but you couldn't focus, his cock was hitting your sweet spot and his balls slapped against your clit giving you shocks of pleasure each time and all you could do was let out broken moans.
his hands went up your back and then to your sides, he started pulling you towards his chest. your back was arched and your shoulder blades rested against his chest, he moved his hands again, one to your neck and the other down to your clit.
"This alright?" he asked, his hand just lightly touching your neck.
"mhm- yeah" you panted, Eddie kissed your head as he tightened his grip, it wasn't anything too crazy and it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. your thighs burned and ur knees definitely have imprints from the floor.
Eddie peered over your shoulder, he looked down and watched your tits bounce in your bra, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to catch your breath. his fingers moved on your clit faster than his thrusts.
"you're doing so good, such a good girl for me" Eddie praised in your ear.
"do you think you get to cum since you've been so good?" he asked, tightening his grip for a moment, showing he wanted you to answer. 
"yes! please- please let me cum" you begged, letting your eyes close and clench around his cock. his fingers still working your clit which made you want to buck your hips into his fingers. 
Eddie smiled, he was close too and he for sure wasn't going to edge himself this time. he was panting and moaning in your ear and you never thought sounds could make you horny but now you were sure if he ever called you could cum just from his voice and moans. 
"please- please- please, I'm so close" you cried out, your thighs shaking as you tried to keep yourself up even with his support. he hummed as if he was thinking about it. 
"please eddie, oh my god" you begged loudly and if this had happened earlier today Eddie would have had to put his hand over your mouth.  
"cum for me" was all he needed to say for you, your cunt spasming around his cock and clit throbbing under his fingers.
you let out broken moans and cries as your body stiffened and shook, and you leaned into him. 
"eddie-" you moaned quietly and he took the hand around your neck and moved down to your waist. 
"I know- I know sweetie, keep going baby, I'm right here, I got you" eddie whispered in your ear, he moved your hair with his chin and kissed your neck. he kept thrusting but soon took his hand from your clit and moved it to your waist. 
 his hips stuttered as he was right on the brink of cumming, removing his lips from your neck and moaning softly in your ear as he came. his hands gripped you harshly. 
after a few minutes he pulled out, you stayed upright and tried to catch your breath and fought the tired feeling. Eddie took off the condom and tied it before reaching for the small trash can he kept behind the driver's seat. 
"come here baby," he said sweetly. Eddie came back to you, grabbing your shoulder gently and leaning you back, you moved your legs out from under you and your back rested against the edge of the seat and eddie moved right next to you. he spotted his panted and reached to grab them but the leg of his pants and pulled it to him, he grabbed his cigarettes and lighter out of his back pocket. 
Eddie moved back next to you and put his arm under your head and you moved closer to him. you watched him take out a cigarette with his teeth then toss the pack next to him and then lit it. he inhaled and a couple of seconds later exhaled, you watched the smoke roll out of his mouth. 
"I'd offer you one but I know you don't smoke," Eddie said, laughing softly. you smiled and laughed, crossing your arms. you didn't want to get up, you just wanted to stay but you knew you needed to get home and shower once more, just a little longer wouldn't hurt. 
his finger drew shapes on your shoulder as he continued to smoke. 
"we should hang out sometime," Eddie said, he turned his head to look at you, and you looked up with a lifted brow. 
"Really?" you asked and Eddie nodded. "alright, only if you play your guitar for me" you added. 
Eddie smiled big, "you remember that?" he asked. 
"of course I remember, you're hair was buzzed and Chrissy and I walked into the place that you were playing at" you laughed.
 "I would've found out a week earlier but I was sick and couldn't come the day when the talent show happened" you sighed and kept the smile on your face. 
"I can't believe you remember that" Eddie groaned dragging his hand down his face with a laugh. 
you reached behind you and grabbed your panties, you put them on quickly then moved to search his center console for a pen. you found one thankfully and moved back. 
"here hand me your cigarettes," you said, holding your hand out as he grabbed it and then put it in your hand. 
you wrote your number on the pack and then handed it back to him. 
"call me when your free," you said before gathering your clothes and throwing them on. you threw Eddie's shirt and boxers to him so he didn't have to get up to get them. once you were dressed you moved to the door. 
"see ya," you said as he muttered a quick bye. the sun hit your skin and you stretched before walking to your car.
tag list @kiwi5335 @qatiee @nightless @sallyp-53
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Note
hii do you have any multi chapter fluffy fics? like with minimal angst (although im a sucker for hurt/comfort)
hi, sorry this took me so long to get to! i'm not sure if you meant recs, or fics that i've written, so i listed some of both! i'll be honest, i'm a sucker for angst, so i don't have that many 😆 but maybe others will have some more recs??
Look How They Align—allyasavedtheday (@littlespoonevan)
made your mark on me (a golden tattoo)—heartbeatdiaz (@heartbeatdiaz)
Dear Instagram, I'm In Love With A Boy—JackLuvsDaniel
stole my heart and i knew before we even met—prettyboybuckley (@prettyboybuckley)
Hearts, Hooves, and Healing—mansikka (@redlightsandicedtea)
What They Think We Are—mansikka (@redlightsandicedtea)
no one quite like you—hammersmiths (@henswilsons)
you've got the antidote—hattalove (@hattalove)
i want your midnights—allyasavedtheday (@littlespoonevan)
MukbangsWithBuck—ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie
the story of us—browney3dgirl6 (@cowboy-buddie)
the holiday calendar—browney3dgirl6 (@cowboy-buddie)
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quiet-nocturne · 4 months
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hopeless, breathless, burning slow - chapter 1/2; a royai fanfic
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Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist Pairing: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Rating: Explicit (18+) Summary: "They'd been good the rest of their stay in the hospital. Not that he hadn't been tempted. He hadn't been able to stop touching her since - innocently, a hand lingering on her lower back, fingers brushing, sitting next to her so that he could feel the heat of her thigh against his, a quick, stolen kiss when they finally had a moment of privacy. But nothing beyond that.
“I'd like to continue what we started a few weeks ago.” Her voice is husky, and the corners of her lips are upturned. In the dim light, he can see her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek.
Well, that was pretty clear. "
This is the sequel to "you're all that matters to me anyway". After being released from the hospital following their recovery, Mustang and Hawkeye finally have some privacy. Post-Promised Day fic." Read it here on AO3!
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periprose · 11 months
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Florence - Chapter One
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You and Peter Parker are former childhood best friends. As next door neighbours, you and him spent a great deal of time together, either at school, playing video games, or during your yearly summer vacations at Florence, Italy. But after you drifted away from him- you both went to different colleges, and you figured you wouldn't need to bother him anymore with your unrequited crush that you had never spoken of but clearly showed symptoms of- things are very awkward. It's even more so when you receive an invitation to Harry and MJ's destination wedding, located at Florence, of course.
former childhood friends to friends to lovers, mutual pining, loads of flashbacks to Florence vacations and other things, flirting, fluff and angst and eventual smut
no use of y/n, your father is Logan Howlett and you go by your last name
Masterlist | Next Chapter
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It’s raining outside. 
Just moments before, as you decided to go check out your mailbox, it was a hot, sunny day. Typical for June 15th- a normal, almost sunny day. Of course, technically you’re in the last days of spring, so a downpour of rain started as you were opening your mailbox.
“Aw, fucking- damn it!” You stuff the mail under your shirt, and begin running across the sidewalk. 
Your hair is drenched in seconds- your shirt, too, is pretty damp- and when you’re finally at your porch, you can see so many puddles of water accumulated at your street. Weather is just crazy in New York.
One second later, you realize that you’ve left your mailbox open, and your keys are still in the keyhole of the box, so now you’re running yet again, down the street, rain making you totally wet and you know for a fact you’re going to have to change out of your clothes. You shut the mailbox door, grab your keys, and run back.
When you finally make it to your door, you’re sweating, soaked, and totally embarrassed.
May Parker- your sweet, older neighbour- is at her own porch, and she waves at you.
“Hey, Lettie. Going for an afternoon walk?” She asks, but really, she’s teasing, and you shrug. You haven’t been on the best of the terms with the Parkers lately.
“Just getting mail.” You pick up the envelopes, and quickly scan through them. 
Bills, dentist appointment reminder, flyers full of coupons… baby clothing catalogue? I’m not pregnant. You think to yourself. But you see that it’s listed to M. Parker- it’s obviously for your neighbour.
“Hey, May.” You stroll over to her porch, and hand her the baby clothing catalogue. “For… you?”
“Well, not for me like that, if that’s what you’re thinking.” May laughs, and flips through it. “Loads of women come to FEAST either pregnant or with babies- and I can’t always count on donations to help them, y’know?” She says it all matter-of-fact like, but you feel bad.
You used to donate at FEAST. You even used to volunteer there, around ten years ago when you were still in high school.
Things are different now, though. 
You sift through the rest of your mail, feeling too uncomfortable to just let May stand here on her own. You wonder why she’s just out- sometimes she’s drinking tea, just chilling- but she’s very clearly waiting for something. 
A very, very ornate envelope is on the front of your pile, and you pick it up gingerly.
What is this? One of those charity scams where the envelope looks really prestigious, so you’re motivated to donate? You wonder, but it dawns on you slowly.
Ivory white paper.
Silky to the touch.
Rococo imprints and detailing.
Oh no… You open it up, knowing exactly what this has to be. A wedding invitation?
You’re at the age where tons of your peers are getting married. Just last year, Gwen finally married Miles in a very nice, close friends only, cozy sort of wedding. And it’s not that you feel lonely, exactly- maybe it’s just that the pressure is finally weighing in a little.
You don’t think you have to get married. You are a feminist, something you can thank your dear old dad, Logan Howlett, for, since he has never been one to pressure you on this. In fact, he has always been the first to say that you don’t need a man and you especially don’t need one of those “punk-ass kids walking around today, like they own the damn planet.”
You know that’s true. Kind of, anyways. But you still feel like you are missing out on something, like the magical, perfect ending to a story that is marriage, that everyone always talks about. Feeling left behind.
Maybe you are lonely in a different way. Maybe it feels like your peers are moving on into different stages of their life, because that is what’s happening. 
Still, no need to panic. You’re just having a momentary lapse in judgement- it’s fine. 
The invitation reads, in gorgeous swoopy gold lettering that has yourself smiling despite yourself:
Mary Jane “MJ” Watson and Harold Theopolis “Harry” Osborn Will be Wedded                                                                                                                      On July 21st, 2023 In Florence, Italy At the Florence Cathedral
Accommodations will be provided.
A two-week long stay will be arranged prior to your visit, with maids and chefs attending to your every need. More details will be sent soon.
Your smile drops. 
You love Harry and MJ. You always knew that Harry would go all out for getting married, like he does for most things, and especially for MJ, a girl that he loves more than he loves custom cufflinks from Tiffany’s. 
It doesn’t hurt that MJ is gorgeous- she’s a stunning, 5’10 model with killer longs legs and a lithe, small waist that puts her on the cover of every magazine easily. Surprisingly natural cherry-red hair that pours off her head in the most silky, straight long curtain. 
But what really matters, as you always remind yourself before you get too caught up in admiring MJ’s looks and comparing yourself to her, is that MJ is a sweetheart. She always has been- always asks you how you’re doing and if you need anything, even if she herself is busy. MJ is the one who managed to soften Harry’s heart after he had a devastating fight with his father back in high school, when he was in his me-against-the-world phase.
You just wonder why they had to pick Florence, of all the places to go. Why not Tokyo, or Berlin, or Dubai? Why the one place where all your childhood memories with Peter Parker seem to reside, and just the thought of him makes your heart vaguely ache?
May sees what you’re looking at, and smiles widely. “Oh, Isn’t this great? Your childhood friends are finally getting hitched!”
You smile softly. “Yeah… and in Florence, too.”
May nods excitedly. “It’ll be just like back then, when you two were little. Peter’s on his way here- he’s just being picked up by Ben from New Jersey.”
You nod, but you’re not really listening. You didn’t even know Peter was in New Jersey- you’ve been avoiding talking to him for at least a year now. The last message he sent to you was “hey, howlett, you okay?” after not receiving a response for a week.
It’s awkward. You’ve ghosted him, and now you’re on his front porch. Before you can leave, Ben’s car is pulling up onto the driveway.
It’s too bad, you think. You’re easily flustered by confrontation- and it doesn’t help when Peter technically never did anything wrong.
You and your stupid feelings.
Ben exits the car, and pulls Peter’s suitcase out of the trunk. Peter himself wanders out, his tall, long body stretching outwards. He’s always been a lot taller than you.
He looks tired. Eyebags are heavy, and he’s got a bit of a slouch going on. There’s a bit of scruffy stubble adorning his jaw, and it’s either because he was too tired to shave it, or he was going for a bit of a look. 
But Peter’s eyes instantly brighten when he sees you, and you feel that same ache again, that despite your poor treatment of him, he still looks at you with kindness.
“Howlett.” He leans forward to fist bump you, just like you always greeted each other, and to your surprise, you fist bump him back.
“Peter.” You give him a small, fond smile, and even if you know you’re faking it- that you’re trying not to grimace- Peter doesn’t let on that he knows that.
/
Logan has been drinking his morning coffee for the last four hours. It’s noon, but that’s how he likes it sometimes. Slow, boring sips as he stares out the window. 
He wonders what’s taking you so damn long. He just wants to see if Charles has sent out the school schedules in the mail yet- so he knows for sure what grade he’s teaching this year.
Elementary school is shitty, he knows. Snot-nosed kids can be their own worst enemies, or they can start fighting each other, and even worse, teachers like him have to be on top of it all the time. 
You always laugh when he tells you. “War never changes, kiddo.”
He’s just hoping it’s at least fifth grade. Ten year olds are smarter than the world gives them credit for.
You were even smarter than that, though. You and Pete- the two smartest kids in the neighbourhood- would always mutually read your library books together, and insist on extra homework, and even go to the mathematics club together. And if you weren’t doing that, you’d both be chasing each other around the playground, completely oblivious to the beginnings of a crush. 
As Logan thinks about Peter and how you both used to be best buds, until something happened and you forever refused to talk about it with him, his eyes narrow as he sees you on the Parker porch. You don’t usually fraternize with neighbours- you’re too busy doing your remote coding job, typically spending hours cooped up in your room until Logan pesters you to get sunlight- so it’s a little suspicious.
Until, of course, he watches as your face reddens and Peter Parker himself walks up to you. Logan has a little smirk on his face- he was never going to push you to deal with Pete, he’s just glad that the universe had it’s own little goals in mind.
It seems kind of crazy just how old you are. To Logan, at least, it feels like just yesterday, rather than twenty something years ago, that you were in kindergarten and he was picking you up excitedly, wanting to remember what school was like from the perspective from a kid.
And then just two years later, the Parkers moved in next door. Peter was in your second grade class, and you two were inseparable. Peter and Howlett- you hate going by your first name, so everyone calls you either Howlett, or some alternative of that like Lettie or Howl- anyways, Logan has always thought it was you and Pete against the world.
That was the year that the Florence summer vacations began.
/
You’re having a flashback as May, Ben and Peter allow you to sit down in their home. May has set down a cup of tea for you- you’re grateful to have something to sip on as you try to avoid conversation.
You’re nine years old again, in a stripy swimsuit, and you’re playing on the sandy beaches of Italy with Peter, who’s eagerly licking a popsicle. Sand grains are sticking to his elbows, hands, and the back of his neck. You’re instructing him on how to help you correctly make the sandcastle, and Peter is eagerly listening, forever your willing best friend, doing whatever you’ll say.
The sunshine is bright- maybe a little too much for your dad- and he picks you up, slathering you in sunscreen as you hiss and shriek at him. 
“Put me down, Dad- this is embarrassing-!”
“Settle down, ya little wolverine- just some sun protection.” Your dad leaves a dab of sunscreen around the corner of your mouth as he sets you back down, and Peter giggles.
“Hey, look, Howlett- you still got some sunscreen on your mouth.” He snorts, and then falls over laughing when you glare at him. 
“You need sun protection too, Parker!” And you charge towards him, letting the last bits of sunscreen that haven’t quite melted into your skin, transfer onto his.
Peter yells as he tries to keep you away, but you’re too fast for him. Your arms clamber around him- but Peter is still a bit taller so he tries to lift you away from him- and the next thing you know you’ve both fallen over the sandcastle, with a very soft thump.
You’re on top of Peter, which is disconcerting on it’s own considering these new warm feelings you keep having for him, but what’s really confusing you is the soft, squishy thing against your mouth.
You open your eyes and see that Peter’s lips are connected to your own, in the most accidental, chaste kiss. It’s an embrace that shocks you, because you know what that is, what that means- and you pull yourself away, and Peter stands up in shock too. Your heads bump together for a second as you stumble in confusion, the warm, fuzzy feelings exploding tenfold. 
Peter immediately says that he’s sorry. And you’re okay with that, because you don’t really know what this all means, and you’re not exactly ready for all that. You’re just glad your dad didn’t see- he probably would’ve freaked.
You come back to yourself in the present. That moment makes you grow numb, because you had always considered that your first kiss, until things changed for the worst. This is why you don’t really talk to Peter anymore- he’s not an ex, he’s just a complicated person for you.
Even MJ knows that. Inside the envelope was a second card, handwritten in her perfect script:
Dearest Howlett-ie, the best girl in the whole world,
I am so excited to see you in Italy! I know, by the way. I tried to talk Harry out of it but apparently he got a really good deal with arranging the wedding in the Florence Cathedral. But if it feels hard for you, I understand. 
I promise it won’t be that bad, because we’re staying at the Villa Cetinale. It’s a really pretty house- and it’s in Siena, so it’s not quite Florence, although it is next to it.
I have a big ask. Will you be my maid of honour? I’ve always dreamt that you’d be by my side for the wedding, because I love you and you’re like my sister. If not that, at least a bridesmaid. I won’t hear a no from you on that!
I hope you’re doing okay (don’t let coding be your entire life, please!) and I’m gonna make sure the situation with Peter isn’t awkward. Don’t even worry about it- I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t have to interact with him.
At this point in the letter, you genuinely wanted to laugh. You’re already sitting next to him at his house, and May is talking all about the wedding, so Peter knows. An interaction is imminent.
It’s also insanely childish of you to expect him not to talk to you, when again, he’s not an ex boyfriend, and even then, you have been amicable with your ex boyfriend. And you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t have to expect MJ to cater to you on her wedding day.
Also, although I would miss you, I understand if you want to go back home early after the wedding. You probably have important work to do, like you always do. I hope to hear from you soon!
Love, MJ
It’s the sweetest message ever, and it’s so MJ, and you can’t let her do any of this for you. Because you’re a Howlett, and your dad didn’t raise a damn quitter, and you love MJ. You have been best friends since she was in your and Peter’s sixth grade science class, and that was where all the trouble began for you. 
“Did you hear me, Peter?” May shakes his shoulder, and the movement causes the two of you to lean towards each other on the sofa.
Peter stiffens, and then shakes his head. He doesn’t exactly pull away- and this is why you hate him sometimes. 
Why couldn’t he just be more succinct in his rejection of you? This weird wishy washy, I like being next to you, but I will never see you like that, is exactly why you ended up trying to leave him alone. 
You suppose that it’s because you never openly told him that you liked him, and his rejection is just implied- up in the air, but you have assumed it based on the facts- and that he’s still a friendly person. But friendship, just friendship, from someone you know you still love hurts a lot.
“Harry’s been calling the house. He says you wouldn’t pick up your cellphone. He wants you to be his best man, Peter.” May says, and Peter blinks slowly.
He yawns loudly, stretching his arms, and the gentlest touch from his forearm to yours has you nearly reeling. 
“Really? Me?” Peter sounds mildly confused. “There’s not some billionaire tech heir he’d rather ask?”
“Oh, stop that.” Ben interjects, looking wise as ever as he leans against his own seat. “I admit the boy has changed a lot, maybe for the worse-”
“Lavish partying? No class consciousness?” Peter scoffs. “I’d say.”
“Anyways, he’s still your friend. One of your closest.” Ben drinks his own coffee. “You’d be the one to change him, at least.”
“At his wedding? I don’t know, Uncle Ben.” Peter sighs. “Okay, fine. Only because you’re right that he’s my friend and I want to see him get married.”
“I wonder who the maid of honour is.” May stares at her fingernails, and despite the growing embarrassment inside of you, you answer. 
“MJ asked me to do it.” You mumble, but May claps excitedly.
“Aw, that’s wonderful! You two will look perfect next to each other.” May seems totally oblivious to how you want to sink into the cushions of the couch under you.
Peter nods. “It makes sense. We are neighbours… and best friends.”
Why does it feel like the whole universe is against you today? You have nothing to say to his reply, so you just nod.
/
Telling your dad is so not fun when he spends the whole time laughing.
“So you won’t tell me why you hate Pete- but now you’re gonna be spending hours with him?” Logan slaps his knee, tears coming out of his eyes. “It’s just perfect.”
The word perfect echoes in your mind a few times, and you ignore the urge to claw your dad’s eyes out. It’s not that anyone means any harm- it’s that even you thought you and Peter were perfect, clearly meant to be, and that sadly wasn’t the case. 
It’s just a reminder of how you lead yourself on.
“Never mind, Dad.” You scowl at him as he hoots with laughter about how you should just tell Pete. That you supposedly want him.
You don't- at least, not anymore- and you run upstairs to your room and flop angrily onto the bed. 
Then, you gather your hair into a floppy bun/ponytail/scrunchie and start cleaning. It's stress relief, yes, but it's also because your room has accumulated a lot of trash, and it's pissing you off. 
You put on your headphones, blast some music, and throw things into a garbage bag, including several diet cans of Coke, a wrapper for a Jamaican beef patty, and coffee cups. 
Your phone starts ringing. It's MJ wanting to video call- and you prop your phone up on your desk before answering. 
/
Peter is so, so tired. 
The first thing he wanted to do when he got home was to sleep. He already knew about the wedding- Harry asked him on how to propose to MJ ages ago. 
But of course he could not just rest when he got home- May had to go on and on about how being best man means getting beauty sleep, so he would look good in all the pictures.
But he didn’t expect to have to talk about all this wedding stuff so much today. It’s only going to get worse, he knows- it’s a month and a week away, and in wedding time that might as well be five minutes.
Even worse- he sees that you’re still not in the right mood to talk to him. Peter, as smart as he is, has no idea what he did wrong, and it’s only out of respect to you that he doesn’t just throttle you and ask for the answer. 
He has never considered you not his best friend, and the fact that you might as well be pulling away from him now, possibly forever, makes him feel sick to his stomach. How can he rectify the issue when he doesn’t know what it is?
He’s been lying on his bed, throwing a tennis ball up at his ceiling, and then catching it. The repetitive motion usually allows Peter to turn the cogs and gears in his mind, but… Dr. Octavius had him working days and nights for the last six months, so Peter’s head just isn’t in the right space.
He thinks about the timeline, as he often does.
Peter met you in second grade at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. In Ms. Grey’s class- she was a pretty redhead, and Peter would often wistfully think about marrying her in the way that a second grader has a crush on their teacher- until, of course, he and you witnessed Logan and her in a very passionate embrace at a school dance, sometime in the fourth grade.
Peter shudders. 
Then around… the summer break where you were both nine years old, you headed to Florence, Italy. Just you, Logan, (not your mom as that was a touchy subject for everyone, and to this day, Peter has no idea who your mom even is), Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Peter. It was really special- vacations were not something Logan or May or Ben could typically afford- but it was a seasonal package offered from Logan’s teaching job, and it included all five potential members of a family. 
Logan and Ben were drinking buddies, and they liked playing poker together, much to the chagrin of May, but she would sometimes join in too. Peter was- is- your best friend, and so it seemed obvious to Logan that the five of you should go. 
And every year, every summer break, from the ages of nine to just eighteen, you would go to Florence together. As you went every year, traditions would be formed, bonds would be stronger, and everyone would feel relaxed as the Italian sunsets warmed your bodies and minds.
Peter has many fond memories from those times. You and him would always sit next to each other on the plane, and watch movies for the whole duration for the flight, even if Logan would tell you guys that you needed to sleep at some point.
Then, because the bus taking you to Florence would drive from the Naples airport to your hotel there- you would always get Neapolitan pizza, and split it together. And there was always basil-mint gelato to be had, too.
Then, there would be swimming on the lovely, warm beaches of Italy, and maybe some sightseeing- there’s a lot of gorgeous, religious art there. You also loved walking down the cobblestone streets of Florence with Peter- chasing random things that caught your eyes, and taking loads of pictures. He wasn’t religious at all, but he enjoyed visiting the churches by your side. You also went out of your way to hike a lot, through Italy’s marvelous architecture and fields. You visited a winery, even though when you went, you were both a little too young to officially drink, but Logan let you guys have a sip anyways.
Peter smiles to himself. One of his favourite memories was the year you both were thirteen- starting out into the world of teenagers- and you had just started your period. It was not a good time for you, and you were clearly very grumpy about it. He gave you a heating pad, and pain medication, and didn’t go swimming until your period was over, so you could go together. You had been so happy when he told you that- and you hugged him so tight, he’s been chasing that feeling ever since.
When you began high school, you brought all your textbooks and things with you on the trip that year- even though Logan, May and Ben called you a bunch of nerds- and studied for your exams together. Peter was glad to have you as a study buddy, because Harry slacked a lot and Peter didn’t want that kind of behaviour influencing him. MJ was pretty good at studying, too, but if Harry asked her to go out, she was the type to just give up.
There was that really sweet time that you and Peter went to the aquarium and watched a group of baby turtles swim together. And you bought a pair of turtle keychains- it’s still dangling off of his work bag. 
There was also that absolutely hilarious time that Peter heard you screaming in your motel room- you both must’ve been 15 at that point- and he leapt in there to see you coming out of the bathroom, still in your first bikini. Peter tried not to be a creep about this- but he was a nerdy 15 year old and it was difficult to avert his eyes from any young, budding, almost developed-woman- and he stared at you, face reddening, before you stammered out about a large spider in the bathroom. It was quite large, and he managed to catch it and get rid of it.
Peter remembers that you grabbed his arm in relief, and then let go, stuttering about how you needed to change your clothes, and he tried not to freak out over that mental image at the time. He snorts about it now- what a silly young kid he used to be.
He wonders why he still feels like one. Isn’t he twenty-six years old? How does he fix things?
You began to pull away, around eleventh and twelfth grade. It became easier for you to say that you were busy with something, and Peter was not the type to really push you back then. You started ignoring his calls- and his pestering about whether or not you wanted to go get pizza, like you usually always did on Saturdays. Did you even still like Neapolitan style pizza?
The last time he really remembered that you had a good time with him was the last trip to Florence- in the summer break at the end of twelfth grade- and after that, Logan no longer received the benefits for the trip, and you two were both on your way to university, anyways.
Peter sighs. He went to Empire State- and you, NYU. And that was where you guys began to drift quite quickly. People get busy, of course, and university took up everyone’s time. He just never thought you would let go of him like that. He misses you, a lot, to the point where he’s had dreams in which you’re just around him again, smiling. 
Peter doesn’t know if he’ll get over this.
He throws the tennis ball again. It lands in his laundry bin, in front of the window, and when he goes up to get it- he can see you across from him, through your room window, wildly gesticulating to someone on your phone. 
Peter bites his lip, and then snickers to himself. It’s always funny to see you get pissed- you get the same enraged look in your eyes that Logan gets, too- and you run your hands through your hair a lot, making you look kind of like a banshee.
He thinks on what you could be talking about. But Peter has never been a lip reader- so he decides to lie back down on his bed and give you some privacy.
/
“I don’t think he likes me. I would’ve known by now if he really, truly did, MJ.” You groan in exasperation, but the redhead on your phone screen is barely listening.
“Babe. Listen to me- that boy just doesn’t know what he wants. He barely knows how to exist- you think he would be able to figure out that he likes you?” She laughs, her long nails tapping at the screen as she types a message to the catering service she was telling you about. 
“But… he just sees me as his best friend.” You sigh, and then shake your head, feeling rustled. “Maybe sometimes that’s all it has to be? Not everything male-and-female needs to become a relationship… I should just be happy being his friend.”
“Okay. As long as you’re actually happy with that, Lettie.” She gives you a knowing look. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t know Harry picked him as his best man- he told me it was going to be some tech dude, but I guess he changed his mind.”
“It’s fine. Not everything needs to accommodate me.” You shake it off. “Where are you right now, anyways? Looks very sci-fi, neon lights, hologrammy?”
“Ah.” MJ switches to the back camera and shows off some fashion show, and based on the French writing on the signs behind you, it’s definitely in Paris somewhere. “You know. Model rehearsal stuff.”
“I really don’t.” You snort, pulling back a strand of your hair. “I live a very non glamorous life, you know.”
“Well, soon you won’t be!” MJ turns the camera back to herself, and someone out of your view is calling “Mary Jane, Mary Jane-”. She motions to them, that she’s on break.
“You’re gonna have the time of your life at the wedding. I promise. We’ll do all those things we’ve been saying we’d do since… five years ago.” MJ laughs as you giggle yourself. Adulthood is a pain. You plan to see your friends and only really manage to do it once a year.
“Okay, fine. I guess I’ll drink like crazy, and dance half-naked at a club.” You roll your eyes, and MJ nods eagerly.
“That’s my girl!” MJ claps her hands. “Okay, listen. This fashion show will be done by this Saturday- I can take a redeye flight and make it there by Sunday morning. Then we can go bridesmaid dress shop- oh!”
MJ gasps loudly, and you start for a moment, before remembering she’s just… like that. 
“Are you still going to be my maid of honour?” She looks at you with those big, green-blue doe eyes, and you really cannot say no to her. You already wanted to be her maid of honour, anyways.
“Yeah. Duh.” You sniff, as if you’re upset she would even ask the question. “It’s gotta be me.”
“I know, right?” MJ beams. “Okay. So we have an appointment at the boutique at 2 PM- I’ll send you the address, okay? I’ll try to meet you at your place first and we can go together! I’ve already gone with the others.”
“Alright.” You agree with her. “Who else are your bridesmaids?”
“Betty, my sister, and Gwen.” MJ thinks it over, and then nods. “Yup. I know what you’re thinking: ‘no models?’”
“Guilty.”
“I did ask my close model friends, but truth be told: models are competitive as hell, and everyone wants to book more shows.” MJ sighs, defeat overcoming her. “I don’t blame them, they’d rather just not have bridesmaid duties taking up their time, I guess.”
“MJ…” You frown.
“No, no, it’s fine.” She puts on the same bright cheery smile, but her eyes still look sad, and you can tell she’s faking it a little. “I only want my closest friends by my side, anyways. I’m still inviting some, uh, influential people- Kitty Pryde, Elektra, Wanda Maximoff, Bucky Barnes, Natalia Romanov- you know, just the typical gang.”
You don’t know, but you just nod. You’re sure these models are all super hot- super gorgeous- and the idea of being a maid of honour in front of them kind of has your stomach turning. You wonder if you could lose some weight before the wedding, or if that’s a toxic thought to have.
MJ herself is stunning- but you’re sure she has a really intense diet and exercise regimen that she follows. Her body has always been toned and perfect- you, on the other hand, are a total homebody who doesn’t try very hard. You’re not sure how great you’ll look next to her.
You’ve always been just a tiny bit jealous. Even though you know it’s not her fault, it’s just the way the situation happens to be. She’s always been pretty- and you know that’s not all the value is to a person- but MJ is also a sweet, kind girl.
The feeling of being inadequate romantically comes to you again. Maybe you’re just not marriage material like MJ so clearly is.
MJ suddenly looks up towards something you can’t see, and nods at someone. “I gotta go. I’ll text you later?”
“Yeah, of course.” You state, and MJ hangs up before you can say bye.
/
Bridesmaid dress shopping goes okay.
MJ hugs you tightly when you see her- and it’s enough that you forget about some of your prior insecurities. She squeezes your face, and you smile up at her, glad that she still feels as loving as ever.
Even Logan gives her a smile and a “congrats” when he sees her. Then, it’s off to the boutique.
MJ has you try on several silk dresses, all in a gorgeous forest green colour, and she’s equally ecstatic for every single one you try. It’s a little embarrassing- is she just cheering you on because she’s your friend?- but the designer she invited agrees that you look awesome in everything.
You’re a little shy, and unsure of how to say thanks. You have never thought you were all that- just the plain girl next door, honestly.
In the end, you pick a sweetheart neckline, the bodice and torso are fitted down to your thighs, then flaring out in a loose mermaid style skirt with lace detailing. It’s very pretty- and MJ picks up the bill, before you can even say a thing about paying for it yourself.
“Thank you, Kurt!” She blows a kiss at him- he’s going to send it to the place you’re staying at in Florence for you.
“I’m really not used to all this… excessive stuff.” You snort as MJ leads you out of the boutique, on your way to some sandwich place for lunch.
“Well, get used to it. Har is literally doing the most-” She raises her hands super high so you get a sense of what she means. “And even if it rests poorly on your conscience, I told him whatever we spend on the wedding, we’ll spend twice as much on donations, charity and philanthropy.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Damn, MJ! That’s a lot of money. You guys must be loaded.”
She shrugs. “I got into investing when I first made my big bucks modelling, and Harry is… well, you know. An Osborn and all that.”
“So is the wedding spending an excuse to donate as much as possible?” You sit down at the outer patio of the cafe, and MJ lifts up her sunglasses on to her head, her long red hair wafting away in the sunshine.
She gives you a knowing look, with her classic wine-colour stained lips coming into a large, wide smile. “You got it.”
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hi my favs!! i have something special for you…
below the cut there is a tiny snippet of my bfd! joel miller x fem!reader (no outbreak! au) multi chapter fic, titled,
i can see you🪻
TW⚠️: OUTRAGEOUS WHORISH SMUT
inspired by i can see you by taylor swift (taylor’s version from the vault) 💜
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“p-please, pleaseeeeeee,daddy.” i cried into his ear, tears streaming down my face from the way he kept denying what i needed over and over again. i got to see him break, it seemed as if he wanted to do the same to me.
“angel, look at me.” joel commands and that voice, that damned deep and husky texas drawl of his got me every time. i couldn’t look away. i couldn’t look at anything else in that moment. i was completely in his control. “what do good girls do to get their rewards?” joel whispers through his hot breath into my ear.
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yarn-dragon · 3 months
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New Chapter! What's one more crisis ?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/51958264/chapters/132652432
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waytooinvested · 6 days
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Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Prologue
Still reeling from finding out the truth herself, Lena suddenly finds herself in the midst of an odd role reversal in which she knows that Kara is Supergirl, but Kara no longer has any idea she has ever been more than an ordinary human.
And what’s more, Lena has no choice but to keep the truth from her for her own protection…
Also on AO3
Starts with a very short Lex perspective prologue, after which the rest will be Lena's POV.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poor, sweet little Lena, always letting her feelings get in the way of what needed to be done.
When she had come storming into his hideout following his supposed death, full to the brim with righteous fury and clutching a gun in her hot little hand, there had admittedly been a moment when Lex had thought she would kill him.
But he was Lex Luthor, and at the end of the day, he would always be one step ahead of his younger, weaker sister.
He had shown her the truth hiding behind her little girlfriend’s gawky spectacles and shrinking violet demeanour, and it had distracted Lena long enough to let him slip away, while the gun stayed useless and unfired in her hands.
He had practically heard the sound of her heart snapping in two as he went.
It had been funny.
At first.
This big reveal was a long awaited and devastating move he had been looking forward to in the life long chess game that was their sibling relationship, and he had taken the time to savour it as Lena had come adrift from her former circle of friends. He had watched in glee as she pushed Supergirl away and threw herself instead into work, and solitude. He had been sure it was only a matter of time before the bitterness of betrayal worked its way like an antidote through her system and brought her back to his side where she belonged.
Lena would always be his lesser shadow of course, but she had her uses as a junior partner, and as a figurehead to give their work a positive credibility that, after all his bad press recently, he currently lacked.
Lex was a patient man.
He gave Lena nearly two months to have her little tantrum and come to heel, but to his immense annoyance, she still refused to do so.
After that, the fun of watching her suffer began to sour.
Lena was a Luthor after all, and that name still meant something. What was she doing trailing around looking woebegone over some stupid blonde alien? It was unseemly, distasteful, and worse, it was starting to affect her work. L-Corp stock had been down by 0.05% last week, and Lex was damned if he was going to allow Lena to drive HIS company into the ground while he was still breathing, whatever she might call it now.
No, Lena needed to be dealt with, and soon.
His first plan was simply to kill her – clean, efficient, and only fair given that Lena had tried to kill him not all that long ago, but that lacked a certain… je ne sais quoi.
Besides, it would give Supergirl the opportunity to swoop in and save her, which risked pushing them towards a reconciliation and wasting a perfectly good identity reveal.
No, he had a better idea. One that, if he could pull it off, would take care of both of his problems in a single stroke.
All he had to do was lay the perfect trap for Supergirl.
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