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brewsterispunkk · 2 years

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sunshine state

PART THREE: DREAMS

pairing: benny miller x f!reader

WC: 10.5k (oops <3)

warnings: 18+ mature! PTSD, dirty dreams about friends, will’s fiancé being a shitbag, bi!santiago—(if you have a problem with santi being gay then hit the road)

Summary: you and Benny join the guys on a weekend trip to the gulf. But, when pope unexpectedly brings a plus one, you and Benny are forced to share a bed. so it begins.

A/N: heyyyy. this was so long. & not sure if I like it :/ so sorry in advance if it sucks. as always, feedback is appreciated ! love y’all.

PART THREE: DREAMS

There were times you didn’t mind the heat. Times when the heat kissed your skin like the sun in golden hues, instead of oppressing your nerves and lungs. Growing up further north meant that you didn’t take the heat for granted; you were all too familiar with hot summers, yes, but also with frigid, icy winters. The warm, gentle morning heat of Florida mornings were the kind you could get behind.

You propped your feet up on the dash, leaning back in the worn seat, your playlist opened on your phone and ready to play. Beside you, Benny’s eyes were focused on the road, his aviators sat low on the bridge of his nose. If you were more awake, you’d make fun of him for it; tell him he looked like some sheriff or cop from a shitty network T. V. show, but it was barely a quarter past 7:00 and you hadn’t had your coffee yet. The teasing would have to be at a minimum until at least then. Hitting shuffle on the playlist you’d made the night before, you sighed, Stevie Nicks’ voice filling your ears.

Benny groaned beside you, obviously just as cranky as you were. He hadn’t had his coffee yet, either, and for such a kind, sweet, caring person, he could be a pain in the ass when he was caffeine-withdrawn.

“Really?” He asked. “Do we have to listen to this hippie-dippie shit?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, moving to sit criss-crossed in the passenger seat.

“Excuse me, Miller?” You replied. “I know you’re not shit-talking Stevie. The reigning queen of rock n roll, the white witch herself.”

“I don’t like her voice.” He said blandly. You snorted. “And all she sings about is break-ups. It gets old. She needs new material.”

“Benny, you listen to Taylor Swift.”

“And?” He countered. “You listen to Taylor too.”

“Yeah,” you continued, leaning your head on the glass of the window behind you, still facing him. “But Taylor is much more sappy than Stevie.”

“Okay, that’s debatable.”

You laughed, a full belly laugh, one that made your shoulders shake. You shook your head, smiling. “Okay, whatever you say, Miller.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn that you saw him staring, but when you turned, he was focused on the road.

“So,” he drawled after a moment of silence. “Wanna listen to some CCR?”

“Absolutely not,” you chimed cheerily. “We will be listening to Stevie Nicks. I’m gonna convert you.” You could tell he rolled his eyes beneath his sunglasses. “Honey—“

“No, Ben,” you interrupted. “You promised me the aux cord the whole way there if I came. No backsies.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, defeated, as the lyrics to Fleetwood Mac’s Sara floated through the car.

The comedy of it all wasn’t lost on you; it seemed that Benny was always having to convince you to do things; go to the bar, go to Mikey’s party, take edibles with him. The truth is: you’d have done all those things without convincing (besides that first night at the bar—you really were tired), but Benny’s incessant nagging was endearing. This time, though, you truly had been a bit reluctant to come.

Earlier in the week, Benny had come over with takeout and plans to watch the Bachelor, (which you’d recently hooked him on), when he declared that he had a proposition for you. This time it didn’t involve bars or partying or drugs, though, it involved something more foreboding: a weekend at the beach with the guys and their significant others. Meaning Anna would be there.

Your initial response was no. You had Thursday and Friday this week off, blessedly, and were not looking to spend them in the awkward company of Will’s fiancé and all of his and your friends who she hated. But, with the promise of the aux and free food as well as a weekend full of sunshine, Benny had convinced you. Like he always did. You were pretty sure that Benny could convince you to do anything if he kept looking at you with those soft eyes and that stupid, stupid smile.

As the song ended, Benny pulled into a run-down 7/11 that looked like it was pulled straight from the 1980s.

“Alright,” he turned to you, and the look on his face made you think that this is what he must have looked like as a soldier. It was mission-focused. “I’m gonna fill up the tank, you got breakfast?”

“And coffee,” you added, already opening your door and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You got a few paces away from the car before Benny called your name.

“Yeah?” You turned. He was leaning against his open car-door.

“For my coffee, get me—“

“Two cream, four sugars,” you finished for him. “I know.”

“Yeah, honey.” He smiled to himself, turning to the gas pump.

Inside the gas station, you picked up a few snacks, a bag of chocolate covered donuts, and yours and Benny’s coffee, loading the latter up with as much cinnamon you could muster. You even snuck some into Benny’s, convinced that you could successfully turn him to the dark side. The two of you had gotten into an argument weeks ago about whether cinnamon belongs in hot drinks. You had argued that it did.

When you hopped back in the car, Benny was already in his seat, texting away on his phone, no doubt to Will about your ETA.

“Cheers,” you said, setting the donuts on the center console, and holding his coffee cup to him. He grabbed it, setting his phone down, and clinked it with yours.

“Cheers,” he smiled, taking a sip. “Mmm,” he hummed when it hit his tongue.

You sighed as you swallowed your own coffee, immediately feeling a bit more loose. You leaned your head back in your seat and closed your eyes, feeling more relaxed than you had since before you’d woken up. Benny put the keys in the ignition and started the rickety truck.

“Yknow,” he began to pull out of the gas station and onto the swampy backroads that you’d be taking til you got to the highway. “Out of all my friends, you’re the only one who has ever managed to get my coffee order right. To remember it at the very least.”

You hummed in response, before adding, “that’s why I’m the best, right?” Only half joking.

You hadn’t mentioned the whole “you’re my best friend,” conversation that you’d had the night of Mikey’s party. You’d meant to bring it up the morning after, but Benny had been too hungover to remember much of anything from the party, let alone his unintentional confession. You weren’t complaining though; it had answered the question that you’d been secretly poring over for months. You were just important to him as he was to you. Which is why you had absolutely no idea why that had just slipped out of your mouth.

“I’m only—“ you began to panic. He didn’t give you the chance to.

“Yeah, I guess that would make you the best one, honey.” He said casually, leaving you momentarily stunned. You let out an involuntary chuckle.

“But what would make you an even better friend—“

“—no—“

“—is if you let me put on some Langhorn Slim—“

“Benjamin, I said no!” You smacked his hand away from where he’d reached for your phone, before snatching it for yourself. “We’re listening to Fleetwood Mac, I’m putting my foot down.”

Benny cast you a look that you could tell he meant to be menacing, but seeing it on his face only made it look pouty. Your eyes held his obstinately. His cat-like gaze held yours for a minute before he sighed, turning back to the road.

“Fine,” he huffed, reaching for his coffee again. “Let’s see what Stevie has for us.”

You giggled, setting Rhiannon to the queue, and preparing for the long drive ahead of you.

- - - - -

You’d always thought the highway was lonely, especially after the move.

You remember the drive down to Florida being awful, your only company being Salem and the radio. Driving a car full of your life packed into boxes, knowing that your destination held no familiar faces or loved ones.

But with Dreams playing in the background, and Benny’s fingers tapping away on the steering wheel, you caught yourself thinking that maybe it wasn’t that bad.

“Wait, so you’re telling me they almost broke up?”

“Yeah,” you giggled.

“So, we almost didn’t get the album?”

“Yup,” you continued, reaching over to turn down the dial. “One of the most best selling albums of all time.”

“Well, shit.” Benny shook his head, one hand on the wheel. “Lindsey Buckingham sounds like a bitch.”

You snorted. “Cheers to that.”

The sun still shone high in the sky and was hotter than ever now that you’d been on the road for a couple hours. That was another thing about Florida you’d underestimated before moving here; the sheer size of it. It was massive.

The group had planned the outing weeks ago, Benny had just been late to ask you to come. It was supposed to be a couple’s weekend getaway for Mari and Frankie; she was heavily pregnant and it would likely be the last one they got before the baby was born. Frankie’s parents owned a vacation house (a fact that the boys never ceased to tease him about) on the Gulf, and had given him permission to use it. That was before Pope had announced that he’d be in town and invited himself along. From there, to your understanding, it had snowballed: first with Pope, then Will and Anna, and by association, Benny and you.

Pope had finished his stint in South America a little over a month ago, unexpectedly, from what you understood. You knew better than to ask questions, but it seemed that whatever it was had ended and ended quickly. Since then, he’d been living a few towns away and no one had really heard from him. While you’d been initially worried about that because what the fuck, Benny and the guys’ reactions made you realize that this kind of behavior was normal, at least for Santi. It’s just how he was.

“Can you replay that one?” Benny asked, cutting your inner monologue off. You hadn’t even realized that the song had ended. You nodded, quickly pressing the replay button on your phone. The bass line of Dreams pulsed through the car once again.

“Told you so,” you said smugly, facing forward.

“Told me what,” Benny relented dryly, feigning annoyance.

“That Stevie is amazing. I’ve converted you.”

“You haven’t converted shit. I just like the bass.” He cast you a sidelong glance.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, completely not buying it.

In the center console, Benny’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it and handed it to you, his eyes staying trained on the road in front of you.

“See who it is?” He asked.

You opened it to a text from Will.

Pope’s bringing someone, it said, with absolutely no clarification at all.

You gasped, chuckling a little bit.

“What?” Benny looked at you.

“Pope’s bringing somebody.”

“What?” He took off his sunglasses, eyes wide. “Whatdya mean ‘somebody,’ was that him?”

“No it was Will.”

“Quick, call him!” Benny sounded like a middle-schooler waiting to hear the nearest gossip.

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, dialing Will’s number and putting it to speaker. You muted the music.

It rung a few times, before the line picked up.

“Hello,” a bored voice answered. Anna. You and Benny exchanged a look.

“Hey,” Benny said, “can you put Will on?”

“What for,” she asked again with no cadence to her voice. Jesus Christ, this woman. You began to itch with annoyance.

“Nothin’ Anne, just put him on.”

“Fine,” she scoffed, voice venomous. Benny rolled his eyes.

“Yes?” Will’s deep tambre answered.

“Okay, what the fuck was that about?” Benny asked, referring to his brother’s fiancé. Will sighed on the other end.

“Don’t worry about it, man.” He sounded tired.

You felt your skin prickle at his tone. It felt like he’d been sounding like that more and more recently; weary and quiet. A bit unsure. So unlike the Will you’d met when you first moved here, so unlike the Will you’d grown to love like a brother. You couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Anna.

It’s not that you hadn’t tried to like her–you did. Multiple times. And every single time, it was as if she’d made it her personal mission to make it impossible. It had begun the first time you’d met her. You’d planned to get dinner with Will and Santi–a sort of last hurrah before Santi headed down to South America. Benny and Frankie couldn’t make it. Marisol was home sick because of the pregnancy, so Frankie was playing nurse, and Benny had a class to teach at the gym. That left you and Will as the only two in attendance. Until Will had mentioned that Anna would be tagging along, something that had perplexed you. Not because you’d have had a problem with her being there–in truth, you had been anxious to meet her–but because you were under the impression that she hated Santi. Something you were, in fact, very correct about.

The dinner had begun well enough; Anna had been late. But when she arrived, she was in a sour mood, barely even blinking at you when you were introduced. You’d brushed it off at first, guessing that she was just having a bad day. Then, the digs at Santi started. It began with an offhand comment on how he was graying; something about the salt and pepper hair that was beginning to sprout at his temple, which had alarmed you. But no one else at the table had batted an eye, so you’d assumed you’d misread the comment. As if. Then, the remarks about his job began. She’d begun to mention how you and Will both had “real jobs,” and whatever Santi had set up down south was going to fall through. That you couldn’t chalk up to a misunderstanding. You’d been about to say something when Will had changed the subject. Rather abruptly.

That had been your first interaction with Anna.

The next had been at one of Will’s barbecues. You’d all been eating when she’d made an offhand comment about Will’s shirt—one clearly meant to embarrass him. You’d opened your mouth to protest when you’d felt Benny’s hand on your knee. You looked over at him and he merely shook his head. Saying, it’s not worth it.

Since then, you’d stopped giving Anna the benefit of the doubt, and she’d proved you right every single time. You had a strange feeling that this trip would be no different.

Will’s voice from the phone brought you back to the conversation at hand.

“Is something wrong, or—“

“No,no!” Benny sputtered. “What do you mean Pope’s bringing someone?”

Benny said it like it was something outrageous. And, to be fair, it sort of was. It wasn’t that Pope was disrespectful, or a womanizer in any sense. It was only that he didn’t get attached easily, at least not with relationships. From your understanding—based off of what you’d observed and heard from Benny—he’d had many flings with men and women alike over the years, only none had stuck. So for Santi to even be with someone long term was a big deal, nevertheless introducing them to the whole group. This was gonna be interesting.

“Yeah,” Will chuckled. “I just found out. Same with Fish. You’re just as freaked as I am.”

“Well who is she?” You asked, leaning into the phone a bit.

“Hey smalls.” Will said fondly.

“Yeah, hi.” You replied dismissively. “Back to the question: who is she?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “From what I know, he is someone he met at a bar. Guy’s real quiet though, from what I’ve heard.”

“Wow, honey.” Benny raised his eyebrows. “Heteronormative much?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, Benny. I taught him that word and now he will never shut up about it.” He snickered beside you, prompting you to smack his arm.

“Sorry, Will. Anyway, so he. Who is he?”

“I know just as much as you, kid. Hell, Frankie just found out, like, 20 minutes ago. Guess we’ll find out later. Speaking of, what time are you getting here?”

“Ahh, about two hours, give or take.” Benny responded.

“Perfect,” Will said. “See you then. And I’m grilling tonight, so you don’t have to worry about dinner.”

“Nice,” you said, already salivating at the idea of Will’s ribs.

“Ah,shit.” Will spat under his breath. You could still hear it through the phone though.

“What is it?” Benny asked.

“Well,” Will paused. “Since Pope didn’t warn us about bringing a plus one until, well, twenty minutes ago, we’re a room short.”

“Sorry?” You asked, a bit confused by the wording. Will sighed.

“There are four bedrooms,” he explained. “We’d planned on having Santi and Benny bunk together and giving you the extra, but since Pope’s got his boyfriend, looks like you two are roommates.”

There was a beat of silence that followed, before Will added.

“… Unless you wanna room with Anna for the weekend—“

“God no,” you burst, not thinking before the words came out. Benny snorted next to you.

“Sorry, I didn't mean—“ you tried to correct yourself before Will laughed.

“No, I get it.” In the background, you heard someone, a woman, call his name. Probably Anna. “Alright, I gotta go, see you in a few hours.”

“Bye!”

“-bye!”

You sighed before leaning back in your seat. Benny glanced at you, serious for a moment before that slow smile crossed his face.

“C’mon honey,” he teased. “I can’t be that ugly to have you huffin’ and puffin’ about sharing a room with me—“

You smacked him, rolling your eyes at him.

“Eyes on the road, Miller.” He merely chuckled. A beat passed.

“You better not snore,” you added.

- - - -

The rest of the ride was uneventful. Mostly. It went by without a hitch, if you didn’t count Benny making you jump by yelling “gator!” at you while you were driving down a backroad. He’d found out about your irrational fear of alligators about a week ago and hadn’t stopped teasing you about it since. It was nearly 2:00 pm by the time you made it to the little beachside cottage on the Gulf—thanks to Benny’s shitty sense of direction, you’d gotten lost. More than once.

Frankie and Will were already there when you’d arrived, along with Marisol and Anna. While the guys had exchanged pleasantries, you’d had a cordial, albeit brief, greeting with Anna before Mari had engulfed you in a hug, sighing into your ear about how glad she was you were finally there. You gulped, realizing that you’d been naive to hope that there wouldn’t be any drama with Will’s fiance-from-hell.

The good news though, was that Santi was due to arrive any minute, and since Frankie’s parents’ home was in a retirement community, there wouldn’t be any hustle and bustle of the usual Florida tourism. It would be a peaceful, relaxing weekend away. At least you hoped so.

“God, Mari!” You looked your friend up and down. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen her. “You look amazing!”

She scoffed, looking down. “Yeah, I’m as big as a house.”

She wasn’t completely wrong. Her stomach was round. She was 8 months pregnant—in the homestretch—and was very obviously ready for her pregnancy to be over with. She’d told you as much when the two of you had gotten coffee nearly a month ago. Still, though, she looked gorgeous as ever. In fact, she looked more gorgeous than ever. Her dark, curly hair looked fuller, more shiny, and her bronze complexion was practically glowing. Motherhood already looked good on her.

“Oh please, you’re glowing.”

“All the baby hormones,” she laughed. “I guess that is a plus side to all this. I just can’t wait for her to get out.”

You laughed in response to her.

“No, seriously!” She continued, “my feet hurt, like, all the time!”

“So,” you leaned in, “have you and Frankie decided on a name yet?”

“We have,” she smiled fondly, hand on her belly. “We’re gonna name her after my grandmother—Alma, and then her middle name after Frankie’s mom, Magdalena.”

“Alma Magdalena. That’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, before puffing out a breath. “Woo, is it just me, or is it hot out here?”

“No, it definitely is,” you agreed, already beginning to feel sticky in the heavy Florida heat. “And humid.”

“Yeah, I’m going inside.” She patted your arm before beginning to waddle to the front door.

You looked over at Frankie, watching his eyes follow Marisol with an almost overbearing concern. His brows were furrowed, as he watched, making sure she got into the house without problem. It made your heart ache a bit, watching them. Not in jealousy, but in envy. You wondered what it would feel like to be cared about so deeply by another person.

As if on instinct, your eyes snapped to Benny, who was talking at Frankie, and completely missing the fact that he was paying absolutely no attention to what he was saying. The live-wire look in his eyes made your lips twitch. He always looked so animated. So full of life and charisma—your heart clenched. You could stare at him for days, you thought. Just like this: hands gesturing, eyes alight, hair falling haphazardly over his forehead. Gaze so full of love for his friends, his brother. You snapped yourself out of it before you could let your mind run further.

It was high time you got over this little crush on your best friend.

He was everything to you; that much you knew.

In the few months you’d known him, he’d completely changed your life for the better. You’d gone from working a 9 to 5, staying in every weekend, merely surviving in every sense of the word, to living, and it was all thanks to him and Will. You would forever be thankful to them for that. They’d given you friendship, family, in a way you hadn’t had it in a long time. Then, your stupid emotions had to get in the way.

Benny had always been pretty. Gorgeous, really. From the moment you saw him, you’d been able to acknowledge that. But he was Will’s brother, and so kind and easygoing and you two got along so well that you decided early on that there was no way anything would ever happen between the two of you.

You couldn’t ruin the friendship; you wouldn’t ruin the friendship. That fear mixed with your decided lack of dating experience and trust issues was enough to keep any romantic thoughts about Benny at bay. At least, until now.

You shook your head, walking up to the boys, who were talking about Will’s barbecue methods—how they were “much better than yours, Fish”—and put a hand on Benny’s shoulder.

“You ready to unload the truck, Miller?” You asked. “I’m sweating buckets out here.”

“Still not used to the Florida heat, kid?” Frankie asked, arms crossed over the plain tshirt he was wearing.

“I’m an adult, you know.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “And, yeah, hell no. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“Sure, honey. But you’re not helping.” He started making his way over to the truck.

“Oh, shove off, Ben.” You followed him, not letting him unload by himself. “I’m helping.”

After about five minutes of bickering, he caved, and the two of you brought your luggage into the little cottage.

Mari was napping on the couch when you walked in, curled up next to Frankie, who’d draped a blanket over her while he read a book. Anna had resigned herself to her and Will’s room, and Will was preparing for dinner in the kitchen.

“Your room is the third door on the left,” Frankie called as you and Ben dragged your duffle bags into the house.

The little cottage was quaint; exactly what you’d expect from a senior’s home on the coast, all light pastels and beach-themed bathrooms. And most importantly, the AC was on. Thank God.

- - - -

There was only one bed. Because of fucking course there was.

You stood, staring at the patchwork quilt on the Queen sized mattress, frozen.

Logically, in your mind, you knew that there would likely only be one bed. Still, you held a sliver of hope that there would be something: a blow-up mattress or even a trundle. But no.

Just your luck, you thought bitterly. Benny cleared his throat beside you.

“So,” he eyed the bed. “What side do you want?”

And there he was. Your best friend who could dispel any type of awkwardness with only five words. This would be fine. It was just Benny.

In truth, the idea of sharing a bed with him had excited you—not that you’d ever admit that. But it scared you at the same time. You’d sometimes been known to talk in your sleep; what if your tongue got the better of you sometime during the night? Or what if during your sleep, you hugged or cling to him, like you’d been tempted to do before? You decided that there was nothing you could do about it now.

“Hmmm,” you drawled, before walking over and sitting down. “Right side.”

“Well,” he smirked, falling backwards to lay down on his side. “That is just perfect, because I always sleep on the left. Small world, huh, honey?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, resting your head on the pillow and closing your eyes, laying down yourself. “Small world.”

“You tired?”

You peeked over at him, cracking one eye open. He was laying on his side, facing you, hands clasped beneath his cheek. It made your breath hitch.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, pushing down the emotions that the man next to you invoked. “Some asshole woke me up too early.”

“Early, you say?” He was amused.

“Yup. Asscrack of dawn.”

He hummed. “And this guy, he’s an asshole?”

“Mmm, yeah.” You mumbled back, feeling the fatigue of the early morning catch up to you. “The worst. Weird guy, too. Following me around, showing up and my house—“

“Sounds like a creep, honey.” He stretched a little, rolling in his back, and moving his hands above his head. “Want me to beat him up for you?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, feigning indifference. “I’ll think about it. Honestly, I think he might be stalking me—“

Benny cut you off with a laugh, nudging you with his elbow, causing you to groan. “Shut up.” You laughed halfheartedly back, already feeling sleep pull at your eyelids.

“Hey, kid, you going to sleep?”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumbled, face smushed to the pillow as you turned on your side.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Well, I’m gonna play candy crush. I’ll wake you up for dinner, but don’t hit me this time.”

You mentally rolled your eyes.

“That was one time.”

“I’m serious, honey. Not trying to go back to work with bruises—“

“Fine, Ben. Won’t hit you, let me sleep.”

His only response was a chuckle.

The only sound in the little room, beside from the distant crashing of waves from the gulf, was the sound of the ceiling fan twirling above you. Breathing in, faintly, you could smell Benny’s cologne. Heady and soft and masculine and all him.

You slept like a baby.

- - - -

The first thing you noticed about Santi’s boyfriend was that he was nervous. It was something you’d come to recognize fairly well about people, being someone who’d spent most of their life nervous. And Everett, the wiry, shy man who Santi had brought with him, was definitely nervous.

And you didn’t blame him. After all, that was you merely a few months ago. Taking in his flustered, sheepish, careful appearance, you thought back to yourself meeting Will’s friends for the first time all those months ago. And god, did you feel for him.

He was slight, though a bit taller than Santi, and had curly dark hair atop a pale face. His glasses were as wiry as he was, sitting atop his nose as he chewed demurely at the barbecue.

You looked at him across the dinner table, Marisol and Santi laughing at something to the right of you and Benny at your left. When your eyes met, you gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, and his lips quirked in response, before honing on the conversation between his boyfriend and Marisol.

Benny was true to his word and had, in fact, woken you up before dinner. Right before dinner, which gave you less than optimal time to introduce yourself to Everett.

“So, Everett,” you spoke up when the conversation waned. “How did you and Santi meet?”

Santi chuckled a bit, and a small smile crossed Everett’s lips as he took a sip from his beer.

“You wanna tell the story, Evs?” Santi asked, looking at his boyfriend fondly, his hand splayed over the back of his chair. Everett shrugged.

“I guess,” he said. “We met at a bar. I was out with some people from work, really not enjoying myself honestly, and I guess Santiago noticed. I was shy at first, I’m honestly kinda surprised he didn’t get bored.”

“Oh please,” Santi gave him an incredulous look. “How could I? Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Everett’s face turned beet-red, gazing at his plate before looking over at Santi. Santi’s own face held a look so soft that you felt by just observing the interaction you were intruding on them. You smiled, looking over to Benny, who was gazing fondly on the two. Your eyes met his knowingly. Santi was whipped.

“But—uhm—“ Everett sputtered. “How long have you two been together?” He gestured to you and Benny. Your eyes went wide, before you snorted, looking at Benny, who’d choked on his beer. Will chuckled from down the table.

“We’re not,” you stopped, laughing a little, out of awkwardness more than anything. “We’re not together.” You finally corrected, smiling kindly at Everett, who looked mortified at his mistake.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought—“

“You’re fine,” Benny excused him with a wave of the hand, bringing his other arm over the back of your chair, mirroring Santi’s posture. “We’re just best friends.”

You nodded at him.

“Gee, thanks Ben.” Santi drawled dramatically, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, what am I, a roach?” Added Frankie, his mouth half full of food. You snorted.

“Nah, man. More like a fungus. Can’t get rid of you. Besides, she’s the one who puts up with all my bullshit.”

“—begrudgingly!” You added, earning you a playful glare from Benny.

“And she knows my coffee order. By heart. So you two,” he paused, playful as ever, “can suck it.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Interjected Mari, who was drinking soda in contrast to everyone else’s beer and seltzer.

Conversation came easier after that, laughter and jokes passing easily among the group. Anna had kept quiet mostly, and reserved herself to judgy glances and rolled eyes. That you could tolerate. And Everett had fit right in with the group; true, he was quieter than the rest of you, but what he lacked in boldness he made up for in wit. There were a few moments throughout the night when his snide or sarcastic comments left all of you howling in laughter.

Any awkwardness that may have existed between you and Benny at dinner had dissipated by the time you were both ready for bed. Whether that was genuine or due to exhaustion, you didn’t know, and you honestly did not care. Things were normal. At least, they were if Benny’s sense of humor was any indicator—(he’d cracked a joke about how “you know he sleeps naked, right?”, which was evidence enough for you).

You were practically asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, sleeping like the dead through Benny’s incessant tossing and turning at being in an unfamiliar bed. Surrounded by that scent that was purely Benny, you didn’t have that problem, and though you woke up alone, his pillow still warm beside you as bacon crackled in the kitchen and he laughed with Frankie, you dreamed that during the night, he held you.

- - - -

The next day was supposed to be a beach day. The house was, quite literally, beach front, and made you wonder exactly how much money Frankie’s parents had, because holy hell, this place was nice. After a hodge-podge breakfast of bacon, eggs, and some fruit Mari had picked up from a fruit-stand on her and Frankie’s way there, you’d all prepared for a day in the sun, just as Benny had guaranteed.

Walking down to the beach through the long grass, the white sand burned the bottoms of your feet. You silently cursed yourself for opting to walk barefoot instead of in sandals like Benny had encouraged you to. You sped up, hobbling a little bit down the beach, until you reached some semi-damp sand, finally able to slow into a walk.

You looked further down the beach, where the rest of your group had set up camp, putting down towels, blankets, and even an umbrella. In the water, Mari was floating on her back, with Frankie behind her, holding up her shoulders. You smiled. She’d mentioned earlier how floating had helped relieve some pressure in her stomach that had been giving her pain, since it was towards the end of her pregnancy. Of course, Frankie had been waiting on her hand and foot, doing anything he could to ease her pain. Sitting on some towels they’d laid down, Pope was lathering up Everett’s pale back with sunscreen,

SPF 100, probably, you mused, remembering how pale he was.

Beside them, Benny laid in a beach chair, sunglasses over his eyes. As you reached them, you noticed he looked asleep. Under the umbrella was Anna, headphones in, and a sour look on her face as she rested her eyes. Will was in the water, wading out to Mari and Frankie.

You sighed, laying down on the blanket next to Benny. You’d applied sunscreen back at the house, having Mari help you with your back, and were now ready to soak up the sun, the cool sea breeze making the heat bearable. You put your headphones in, closing your eyes, and letting the music take you.

It was maybe fifteen minutes later when you felt a familiar hand on your calf, shaking you. You pulled out your headphones, seeing Benny crouching at your feet.

“Hey, wanna get in?” He asked, eyes hopeful and excited. “Santi challenged me to chicken and Frankie and Will won’t play.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, sitting up on your elbows. You glanced behind him in the water, where the rest of your friends (minus Anna) were standing in a circle, water up to their chests. Besides Pope, who had his arms crossed and was looking at Benny, a shit-eating grin on his face.

That was one thing about you: you didn’t back down from a challenge. You smirked, holding your hands up to Benny.

“Well, we can’t have him getting a big head, can we?” Benny’s eyes danced with mirth as he took your hands, pulling you up.

“God, I love you.” He laughed, before grabbing your hand, and pulling you with him as he began racing toward the water. Your heart stopped at such a declaration. A platonic one, obviously, but one said so casually. Your family wasn’t one that just declared that. It was more something that went unsaid, sometimes questioned. You’d never received such direct affection so unexpectedly. Your mind was reeling. But, the cold gulf water at your ankles forced you to refocus on the task at hand: defeating Pope.

“I see you’ve accepted the challenge?” Santi raised an eyebrow when you and Benny he waded out to where everyone else was standing, hands on his hips. You crossed your arms under the water.

“Why, that surprise you?”

“Not at all, smalls,” he taunted. “I can respect the bravery. Naive, but still.”

Benny rolled his eyes, standing part way behind you, hands on his hips. He was so close, you could feel the warmth from his bare chest on your back, through the water. Not touching, and not far enough away at the same time.

“Ya done chit-chatting, or are you gel gonna stand around all day?” Frankie called from a few feet away, prompting Mari to smack his bicep.

“Yeah,” Will added. “Wanna see you fight!”

“Since you were too chicken to do it!” You called back, causing Frankie to throw his head back in laughter and Will to roll his eyes.

“You gonna play or what?”

“Fine,” you play-glared at Will.

“But after we beat them, I’m takin’ you down next!” Benny added. You chuckled.

“Alright,” Benny turned to you, hands finding your shoulders. Your brain short-circuited a bit. Behind you, Santi and Everett were talking their game plan, with Everett obviously being the one on top, due to his slighter stature. “Let me get on your shoulders.” Benny looked at you expectantly. You blanched.

“I—“ your brows furrowed. Bennys laugh cut you off.

“Kidding, honey.” He shook his head. “I’m kidding. I’d crush you.”

That’s the idea, you thought immediately, before catching yourself. Your cheeks tinged pink.

I can’t believe I just thought that, you scolded, silently telling yourself to reign it in.

“Honey?” His voice broke you away.

“Hmm?”

“I said, you ready?” He raised an eyebrow. You nodded, before he turned around, his back to you. “Okay, when I dunk, get on my shoulders.”

“Benny, are you sure—“

He was under the water before you could finish. So, you did as he said. You grabbed onto his shoulders, before sliding your legs on either side, balancing as he came up for air.

Playing chicken was kind of like riding a bike: no matter how long it had been since you’d done it, it was easy to pick up again. You’d played before, often, when you were a kid with your cousins. This was just the same. Mostly.

What wasn’t the same as then, was Benny’s warm palms holding onto your knees, his fingers spanning up on your thigh a bit. You ignored the flutter in your heart.

“You all balanced, honey?” He patted your thigh, shaking his head to get a salty strand of hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah,” you patted his head. “I’ll try not to crush you.” He laughed, his shoulders shaking a bit.

“I’m not worried a bit, honey.” You smiled, looking over to where Santi had Everett on his shoulders. Frankie, Mari, and Will were on the sidelines, watching amusedly as Santi stared Benny down.

“You ready to go down, Garcia?” Benny taunted, walking over slowly, until you were right across from them.

“Oh, you’re dead.” Santi chuckled. Everett looked over at you apologetically.

“Sorry,” he said lamely. “In advance.”

You snorted, reaching out to shake his hand. “Me too, Ev. You two ready?”

“3,” Will began, being the self-proclaimed referee, “2, 1. Go!”

- - - -

The first clouds appeared around 2:00.

After beating Santi and Everett three different times in chicken, (effectively dubbing yourselves the dream team), Santi, ever the sore loser, demanded another rematch.

“Bullshit!” Santi cried, only half joking. “It’s Will, he’s biased! Catfish, you judge next!”

Benny rolled his eyes, floating on his back.

“Already told you, Pope. I’m not playing again. Think I got burned on my shoulders.”

Squatting in the water so it was up to your chin, you looked over at him lounging peacefully in the after, head tilted back. His shoulders were a little pink, along with his cheeks.

“Sounds like a cop out to me,” Frankie drawled casually, prompting a pointed look from Mari.

“Stop that!” She said.

“What?” Frankie asked, defensively. “I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re enabling them. Stop.”

You laughed, tilting your head at Pope and Everett, the latter of which was looking amused. He didn’t care about winning or losing; he just thought his boyfriend’s competitiveness was funny.

“Ya’know, Santi,” Benny had stood up again, shaking out his hair. “If you’re embarrassed you got beat by a girl, just say that.”

You snorted.

“You little—“

Santi’s voice was cut off by a deep rumble from the sky, one that you felt in your chest. All conversation ceased. You jumped, and so did Benny, his hands flying up to cover his face. A few feet away, Mari shrieked, grabbing onto Frankie. Santi grabbed Everett, before realizing that it was only thunder, and turning his face out toward the sea.

“Jesus,” he breathed, looking out toward the line where the ocean met the sky.

On the horizon, maybe a mile out, there were swollen stacks of clouds, so dark that they were a blue-purple color. They were ominous against the sea, which looked gray now. Thunderheads. The wind had picked up, sending goosebumps up the skin on your arms that were out of the water.

“That’s coming in fast,” you pointed out. Your aunt had lived by the sea, and after spending many childhood summers there, you’d learned to tell when a rain was coming.

“That’s my cue,” Mari said, eyebrows in her hairline.

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie snapped his gaze from the dark clouds rolling in. “We all better get back to the house. The waves are picking up, and besides—that was thunder. Lightning won’t be far behind.”

You nodded as the others turned to head back to the beach. Turning back, Benny was still staring out at the clouds, shoulders stiff. Coming up beside him, his face was stony, eyes holding a type of seriousness you’d only seen a few times in them before.

“Ben?” You reached out and touched his shoulder, and he jumped, jerking away. His eyes went wide, looking at you.

“Shit,” he breathed, out of breath. He shook his head. “Sorry, honey.”

“S’okay.” You said warily, hand falling away from his shoulder. You bumped your shoulder against his.

“Let’s head in,” you continued. “Before the rain comes in.”

He nodded, turning back to the ocean one more time.

Back at the beach, you packed up your stuff: towels, blankets, bags, coolers.

He turned to you as you made your way up the sandy dunes, eyes on the ground.

“You think it’ll storm?” He asked. You furrowed your brows.

“I mean,” you looked over your shoulder. “Seems that way. Looks like it’s gonna be a bad one. Feel that wind.”

When you looked at him again, his face was grave.

“But,” you added, trying to sound more hopeful. “Maybe it’ll miss us. Maybe it’ll just rain a bit.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, walking a little faster toward the house.

Behind you, the sky rumbled again.

- - - -

It was a tropical storm.

When you’d made it back to the cottage, the wind at your backs as you struggled to shut the sliding glass door, Will, Anna, and Mari were sat on the couch, eyes glued to the television.

“Well, folks,” the weatherman stated, standing in front of a brightly colored map of Florida, focused on the gulf.

“I’d hunker in for the night, as a tropical storm rushed through the Gulf of Mexico and into the coast of central Florida. Winds may reach up to 60 miles per hour, so the national weather service has recommended that everyone on the coast stay indoors, and stay safe.”

“Well shit,” Will stated, leaning back. Looking outside, you noticed it had gotten extensively darker, the sun now hidden behind a cover of grey clouds.

“Good thing we went grocery shopping yesterday.” Mari shook her head, getting up and stretching. Beside her, Anna scoffed.

“This is just perfect.” She huffed, sourly. And suddenly, the air was charged with tension, with awkwardness, as you and Benny exchanged a look. This was definitely not going to be good.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you to check the weather, Will. What the hell even is this? Are we just going to be cooped up in here all weekend?”

The air could be cut like a knife, and this time, you didn’t keep quiet.

“Will can’t control the weather, Anna.” You said dryly. Benny shot you a side-look.

Anna snapped her head around, eyes sharp.

“I told him to check the weather, so I wouldn’t be stuck here all weekend with—“

“—Frankie checked the weather, too, before we left, and—“

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Anna’s tone was venomous as she interrupted Mari, who was trying to mediate. Will jumped into action at that.

“Okay, that’s enough.” His voice was firm, more firm than you’d heard it. “Anna, we can talk about this in private.”

The two exchanged a look, Anna’s eyes fiery. His gaze held.

“Fine,” she pursed her lips, huffing as she exited the room, Will at her heels.

“What a bitch,” you pushed out after she’d left the room, outraged at how she’d blown up at both you and Marisol. Mari rolled her eyes, waving her hand.

“It’s fine,” she said, “I could’ve handled it.”

“But what was her problem?” You asked.

“I’ve never known what that girl’s problem is,” she laughed a little bit. “I’m not sure I’ve ever even seen her smile.”

Benny snorted at that.

“Me either, actually.”

Mari sighed, looking outside.

“Well, I’m gonna shower then start dinner. It’s Frankie and my turn to cook.”

The Anna situation forgotten, and food on his mind, Benny perked up at that.

“Ooo, what’re you makin’?”

Mari gave him a knowing look, rolling her eyes amusedly.

“Well, we were going to make burgers, but seeing as we won’t be able to grill, I think we have everything for chili.”

“Yes,” He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a messy kiss to her forehead. She scrunched up her nose. “That’s why you’re my favorite Morales.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she laughed, pushing him away. “Alright, Miller, you stink. I'm gonna go take a bath. I’ll see you both later.”

A slight rain had begun to patter at the windows outside, the wind whirred against the house, howling. The A/C in the house was still on and working as the storm had done absolutely nothing to quell the heat, causing your damp swimsuit to feel freezing against your skin. You shivered.

“It’s freezing in here,” you said. “I’m gonna go change. Maybe take a nap.”

“You want the first shower?” Benny asked as you made your way down the hallway to your bedroom.

“Nah,” you snorted. “I won’t do that to you. You know I take forever to shower.”

“Touché,” he laughed, opening the door to your room and shutting it behind him. You sighed, throwing your bag on the bed.

“Well,” you began. “This should be cozy.”

“Pardon?” He laughed, his back towards you as he gathered what he needed to shower from his bag that was sitting on the dresser.

“You know, the storm. It’s gotta last til at least tomorrow morning. Don’t know how long Anna’s gonna last in here with all of us.”

When you looked back up at him, his back was stiff and straight. How you’d imagine a soldier would stand. Similar to how he stood on the beach, staring out at the approaching storm.

“Ben,” you said quietly after a minute of him standing there, still. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Ye—yeah,” he said, voice breaking and then trying again. He cleared his throat, before turning and walking out of the room.

This was unlike Benny. He was never this aloof, high strung. Never this nervous. It hurt your heart to see your happy, easygoing, kind best friend like this.

He obviously didn’t want to talk about it right now, and you respected that. You did. At the same time, though, you wanted to make it known that he could talk to you about it, if he wanted to. So, you decided you would. Later, after dinner, when you’d both had time to wind down.

Over and over again, he’d been there for you, so now you would be there for him. If he’d let you.

- - - -

You decided to shower later that evening, and after spending over thirty minutes under the steamy spray, you finally felt free of the sand and sweat from your day at the beach. After drying off and getting dressed, you wiped some of the condensation off of the bathroom mirror, taking in your appearance.

You hadn’t gotten a sunburn—thank god—you’d remembered to reapply, unlike Benny, who still had a light spread of pinkness across his cheeks and shoulders. A few new freckles had showed up, though, across your cheeks, thanks to the sun. Your hair, though wet, had decided to behave, not looking crazy like you’d anticipated after being soaked in the drying salt water. You wore sleep shorts and a large T-shirt as pajamas.

Halfway through brushing your teeth, you heard a knock at the door.

“Almost done!” You called. The familiar feeling of guilt spread through your chest, hoping you hadn’t used up the last of the hot water. You hadn’t realized you weren’t the last one to shower.

“Sorry, take your time!” The soft spoken voice came from the other side. Everett.

You smiled at the thought of the skinny man you’d become fast friends with. After dinner, the two of you had gotten a chance to talk more—about work, college, and, of course, being the new person in such a tight knit group. He’d confessed that he’d been nervous out of his mind at the concept of meeting Santi’s friends—his found family. You’d recounted how you first met the guys, and had commiserated with him, before assuring him that you all loved him. He was one of you now.

Opening the door, the cool air of the air-conditioned hallway hitting you refreshingly as you exited the humid bathroom.

“Sorry,” you cringed, looking at a very sunburnt Everett, holding his towel and toiletries. “I may have used up all the hot water. I thought everyone had showered.”

“Have you seen me?” He asked, giving you a look. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to shower with hot water right now. It hurts just to move.”

You tried to hide your laugh, though failing miserably when looking at him. He very much resembled a lobster.

“No,” he laughed with you. “You can laugh, it’s funny.”

“It’s just—“ you snorted. “How did you burn? You reapplied like four times.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Santi said the same thing. Getting on my ass about not putting on a fifth coat. Overbearing as hell.” He said it fondly, a small smile on his face.

“He loves you.” You stated. And it was true. A blind man could see it.

“Yeah,” he sighed wistfully. “He does. I don’t deserve him.”

“You do.” You replied immediately, looking into his eyes that had suddenly turned shy.

“I’m serious,” you continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at someone like that. Even Fish.”

He snorted at that, eyebrows raised.

“Speaking of couples,” he segwayed. “Again, I’m really sorry for assuming—“

“What, about me and Benny?” You asked, pointing your thumb in the direction of your bedroom. “Don’t worry about it. I’d have probably assumed the same thing.”

“It’s just,” he paused, catching himself.

“What?”

“No, it’s nothing—“

“Tell me, please.” You affirmed, sensing he was holding something back.

“Okay,” he sighed. “What’s going on there?”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows.

“Oh, come on.”

“What?” You laughed. He shook his head, laughing.

“It’s just, I mean, and I may be wrong, but I’m rarely wrong-“

“Just spit it out,” you laughed.

“You guys are obviously into each other .”

Your breathing stopped, the idea of being so see through made your head spin.

God, did everyone else know? Did Benny know?

“Or maybe not. It’s like when,” he stopped himself again, seeing the wan look on your face. He shook his head, taking a step back.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line—“

“No, it’s okay.” You tried to sound easy, carefree, and failed miserably. He started toward the bathroom.

“I should—“

“When what?” You asked abruptly.

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows.

“You said, ‘it’s like when,’ earlier before you stopped. When what?”

He sighed again, looking at you with a genuine smile on his face, his eyes soft. “It’s like when Santi looks at me.”

And your chest expanded, heart beating a bit faster. You smiled at him thinly, trying to keep your composure. You wanted to tell him that he was wrong. That you and Benny were friends and that’s all you’d ever be. That he was an asshole for giving you false hope, and that you weren’t Benny’s type anyway. That you didn’t—couldn’t—believe what he was telling you for fear you’d break your own heart. But you couldn’t.

“He’s my best friend,” you settled for.

“Yeah,” he gave you a knowing look.

“Night,” you smiled. “Sorry again about the water.”

“Don’t be,” he laughed, already shutting the door. You sighed, turning back to walk down the hall, ready now more than anything to sleep.

- - - -

Warm hands ran up your waist, your chest, your neck, before threading into your hair and tugging. A moan escaped your chest involuntarily.

“You like that, honey?” His breath was hot against your neck, making you arch your back into a firm, familiar chest.

“Benny,” you gasped, gripping his shoulders and squeezing in the way you’d never been allowed to—never allowed yourself to.

“I’m right here, baby,” he breathed in your ear, pressing hot kisses to your neck. There was that nickname again: baby. You shivered.

“What do you want?” His deep voice rumbled, lips pressing to your shoulder.

Your breath stuttered, unable to form words, unable to think about anything other than his lips on your neck and his hips pressed tightly to yours.

“I-I,” you tried breathily.

“Words, honey, use your words,” he chastised, teeth running along your jawline.

“You,” you finally got out, hands moving to the back of his head. “I want you.”

“No,” his voice said again, more serious this time.

“What do you really want?”

You weren’t in control anymore, your mouth moving by itself.

“I want to tell you,” you stopped as he ran his lips over the curve of your collarbone, sucking a bruise there.

“Tell me what?” He sounded mocking now.

“Tell you that I—“

“What?” He asked again, more demanding.

“That I—“

You snapped awake at the sound of thunder, gasping, and jerking to the side of the bed like you were falling. The words you were about to confess in your dream, the words I love you, stamped like a scarlet letter in the front of your mind.

What the hell was that, you thought.

You leaned over your side of the bed, arms braced on your knees, for a moment before sneaking a glance over to Benny, and hoping to god that he hadn’t awoken too. Behind you, he was curled up on his side, hair falling messily over his pillow, his breathing steady. Thank God.

Outside, the raging tropical storm did little to soothe your nerves. Your throat was dry. You needed a glass of water.

You went to the kitchen and leaned your forehead against the cool metal of the fridge as your cup filled up.

Okay. Let the cool water wash whatever that was away, you told yourself. You could do this.

Padding back to the bedroom, you slipped in through the door, before setting your cup down on the bedside table. You lifted up the covers, eyes still adjusting to the dim light in the room before your eyes caught a movement. A thrash.

On the other side of the bed, Benny was curled up, knees bunched up to his chest in the fetal position. His breath was no longer calm and even, but deep and shallow. His brows were scrunched together, and his head was shaking. His lips moved, mumbling sounds in his sleep, trying to speak, but failing.

He was having a nightmare.

You moved to his side of the bed, sitting on the corner, and leaning over to see if you should wake him up or let him sleep it out.

Thunder cracked again, a flash of lightning lighting up the room, and Benny jerked, like he was embracing himself to be hit. He curled in on himself again, arms curled into his chest, and a whimper escaped from the back of his throat. The wind was louder than the rain, catching on the gutters and shutters of the house in a hissing moan.

Benny pressed his face into the pillow, brows scrunched in pain.

“No,” he whined, voice higher than you’d ever heard it. Your heart broke in your chest.

You pressed a hand to his shoulder, running it down to his bicep.

“Benny,” you whispered, squeezing, trying to rouse him gently.

He was stiff, like before, only more so now. His shoulders were tight, coiled, and he was shaking, fists clenched to his chest.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled, sounding close to tears. He turned onto his back. “No, please.”

“Benny.” You stated firmly, not able to take any more of this. Your hands pressed into his shoulders, effectively pinning him to the bed.

His eyes snapped open, a ragged gasp leaving his lips. You sat back, giving him space to get his bearings. He panted.

His eyes moved wildly, looking around the room, darting, before finally landing on you. He sighed, leaning back on the pillow, hands shaking as he brought them up to wipe down his face.

“J-Jesus,” he whispered shakily, still trying to catch his breath.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a clap of thunder sounded, making both you and Benny jump. He stiffened up again, seemingly folding in on himself.

“S-sorry, honey.” He said, voice shot. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.” He sounded on the verge of a panic attack, his breaths coming out in deep, shallow pants.

“You didn’t,” you said, trying to meet his eyes, but his were blank, haunted as he breathed deeply.

Oh shit, you thought. You knew where this was going.

“Okay,” you said, pulling him to sit up, and sitting criss-cross in front of him. “Benny,” you started, bending your head to meet his eyes. “Benny,” you said more firmly this time. His panicked eyes met yours. “Okay, I need you to breathe, okay, Ben? Can you do that?”

“I—I don't know,” he said, scared, out of breath. “I can’t,”

“Okay,” you said, trying to sound as calm as you could, wanting so desperately to help the man in front of you.

You thought back to your last panic attack, at the museum with Will. You knew exactly what to do.

“Just look at me, Benny.” You said, and his eyes met yours. You brought his hand up to your chest, scooting closer to him. “Okay, feel that?” He nodded.

“Okay, breathe with me. When I breathe, you breathe, got it?” You inhaled deeply, still holding his hand right below your collarbone. He nodded with you, breathing in raggedly. Still, it was a start.

“Good,” You cooed. “Now exhale. Good. Deep inhale.”

He breathed with you for a few minutes, eyes never leaving yours. Sometime in that time, his other hand found your hip, gripping it tightly, like a lifeline. Eventually, his breathing evened a bit. He was still trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence, sheepish. You shook your head, nudging him.

“Hey.” You said firmly. “Stop that. It’s okay. I get them too, sometimes.”

He smiled gratefully at you, eyes softer than you’d seen them.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, still quiet, not wanting to break whatever this was. He sighed.

“I was back,” he swallowed. “Back over there. Bombs, blood, carnage.” He looked grave. You squeezed his knee.

“Do they happen often?”

“No,” he began. “Only when—“

Another clap of thunder, and Benny’s grip on your hip tightened, unconsciously pulling you closer. He squeezed his eyes tight.

“The storm?” You asked. He nodded, sheepish.

“It’s like,” he paused. “When they happen, either I can’t sleep and I’m a nervous wreck all night, or,” he sighed. “Or I can and I have these nightmares. It’s like, I can’t catch a break.”

“Does anything help?” You whispered, desperate to help him. You peeked over at the clock. 2:00 a.m.

“Sometimes, Will would—“ he stopped himself, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

“No,” you said, with maybe too much force, “Benny, Will would do what?”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“He would—just, sometimes when we were deployed or—or I would get really bad, he’d,” he stopped, squeezing his eyes shut. “He would let me, like, listen to his heart. To give me something else to focus on. Like, his pulse or something.”

You blanched.

Oh. Oh.

He took your silence for awkwardness.

“You know, nevermind, it’s okay,” he began to move back, but you caught him by both arms, earnest.

“No!” You insisted. “No, it’s fine.”

He let out a breath. A beat of silence passed.

“I’ll,” you paused, swallowing. “You can—listen to my heart. If you want.” You added the last part lamely.

“Honey,” he sounded desperate, straining. You weren’t sure why. “You don’t have to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable—“

“Benny,” you glared at him. “I think we’re past that.”

He looked at you, brows pulled together in uncertainty.

“I mean, you were between my legs earlier—“

“Oh my god,” he laughed. Finally. A genuine smile out of him. You smiled back, falling back onto your side of the bed and getting comfortable on your own pillow. You opened the covers, looking over at him.

“Come here,” you said, and he obeyed.

He settled his head against your collarbone, his hips settling between yours, his arms braces under your back. He was wary to put his whole weight on you.

“Benny, are you gonna lie down, or are you just gonna hover?”

“I don’t wanna crush you—“ he began, obviously still nervous.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing his shoulders and pulling down to you, prompting an “oof,” from him.

As if on queue, another crack of thunder boomed, his grip tightening around your middle. He let out a breath that brushed your collarbone. You tried to ignore how it made you feel.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked, shaky. You ran a hand through his hair without thinking. He shivered against you.

“Yeah, Ben.” You said softly. “It’s okay. Go to sleep.”

“Okay,” he breathed, barely audible, before sighing again. This time, in relief. He sagged against you.

You scratched your nails over his scalp, and pretended to ignore the noise that escaped him in response. Your fingers threaded through his hair, trying to sleep yourself, enjoying Benny’s warm, firm weight on top of you entirely too much. After a moment, Benny spoke again.

“Honey,” he mumbled.

“Mmhm,” you hummed.

“Thank you.”

You didn’t respond, only tugged a little on his hair, exhaling deeply.

He was asleep within minutes.

#benny miller #benny miller x you #benny miller x f!reader #benny miller x y/n #benny miller imagine #benny miller x reader #Benjamin miller #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #will miller #frankie morales #santiago Garcia #Santi is bi and u can fight me on it if you want #sunshine state #sunshine state 3

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princess-of-the-corner · 7 months

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it feels like the definition of "good" in ML is just mutilated at this point...

Yeah it's just. It's so fucked ya know?

And like!

I am a soft bitch who rolls with redemption arcs! I came from MLP and SU where characters could do some fucked up shit and get redeemed because they go 'oh hey that was fucked how about I stop and get some friends and maybe a bit of therapy?' and now they're just hanging out with the MCs they tried to fuck over. I'm here turning a Villain Group in to a Vigilante Squad and writing character analysis and major headcanons documenting the lives of fictional old men so full of ptsd they became shitty fathers but by FUCK are they trying to fix that!

Just just just

If any of these characters did the bare fucking minimum of acknowledging they were fucking assholes and working to genuinely do better and fix their shit, I could roll with it!

That's the bar! That is such a low bar it's in fucking hell! But ML has brought out the fucking pickaxe and is still digging!

#i'm sorry if I'm extra salty on it but 1.) i'm dealing with fuckin customer support rn #and 2.) i'm back on a Road to Hell kick and its just showing me more and more how fucking easy it would've been to actually #ya know #write these shitty fathers in a sympathetic way that would make them *good*

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fairy25 · 8 months

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I think wanting a partner to interact with your body and compliment it during sex is normal and I personally couldn’t enjoy sex if they didn’t.

The first time I was intimate with someone (especially after having been abused growing up,) they didn’t give me a bunch of compliments, but it’s more like it didn’t feel necessary because it’s like the complimenting was done sensually /non verbally lol. Made me realize how touched deprived I am and how badly I need gentle touch to feel loved. But I think that’s also normal.

I don’t date now but I’m also a survivor and I know everyone reacts differently, I tended to be attracted to folks who seemed to sense I was a care giving those person who was being abused and they would benefit from me idealizing them for the bare minimum. They’d take on this almost like “care giving role” , didn’t watch porn/bare minimum, but it’s like that gave them an ego boost and they needed to feel needed and I was codependent and needed to need. They’d get insecure if anyone else gave me positive attention or if I was better at something and have these mood swings, kinda reminded me of my mother in the way of “nothing I do is good enough” then would later weaponize the whole concept of everyone treats you like shit but me, and doing this dance of being trauma bonded and feeling obligated to care for the other. (I find attention good listeners tend to be more generous in bed, but then on the flip coin don’t share much about themselves/ are collecting information. They never want to seem weak. The bar is low. )

You sound like you’re also use to giving a lot, so much that you’ve become attracted to people who aren’t really attracted to you. You deserve better than that.

I noticed you said “I know what it’s like to feel ___ so I do ____.” Yea, we often are very kind and caring people who help and care for others with a void within ourselves, but your intuition is right on the money; they’re not attracted to you. It’s an ego thing for them.

I think the moment I have to ask someone to be more engaged during sex is the moment I’d dump them. Sex isn’t suppose to make you feel bad or used. But I feel like from the sounds of it you’re being used. “You make my self esteem better.” That gave me stabby vibes. Never settle for bad sex

I guess it just doesn’t make sense to me why they wouldn’t be attracted to me. I find that hard to believe, that no one I’ve ever been with has been attracted to me just because they haven’t had sex with me in a way I liked or complimented my physicality. Like I’m traumatized too but that just seems like a stretch. I think I’m attractive enough that at least a few of them would have felt some form of attraction for me like cmon… lol. But yeah I’m not settling for bad sex and I stopped having sex at all because I hated it, it’s been over three years since I’ve even kissed someone

#guys can we move on from everyone sending me messages about how no one I’ve dated has ever been attracted to me at all #I GET IT 📢

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thirdmagic · 8 months

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ah, yes... i dont know if it is people we share on our following list and I am not even sure if i was mutuals with them or if they unfollowed at some point before this but there were a few people, from fate fandom, people that i at least have been following for years and years, who put some stuff on my dash on the day of october 7th that. well. i jumped ship pretty much instantly because it sure was something to see after being woken by sirens and spending most of my day running between my apartment door and the bomb shelter and then seeing what was happening on the news. but yeah i havent seen a lot of it, like two-three people but i also know just enough of tumblr fate fandom to know how insular it is that i can pretty much extrapolate what must be going on in other blogs and what you must have seen. so i clearly ran away right on time lol

i don't even know if they've even forgotten some of these parts so much as they never learned about them or never knew. or maybe they haven't forgotten but need their specific easy narrative and to project their own familiar political issues on it so badly that they willingly remain ignorant. i also think there's just such an issue where the only antisemitism that registers as such in many people's minds really is just the shoah and the idea of a jew as a tragic victim of the shoah is the only one they can work with, so they just compartmentalize that from any kind of currently living, breathing, existing jewish person who is not so easily perfect-victim-ized.

but honestly, i think none of us here realized how bad it was too. i had a feeling something like this would happen one day eventually inevitably but it seemed to me like the next moment of devastation had to be way more far off and also that people would obviously do at least the bare minimum of caring and acknowledging that it's bad that it happened and to at least be a little compassionate because that's normal to expect, right. again, not a high bar, surely, right. and well. you know how that worked out.

and to you both: thank you for your kind words and your compassion and understanding. i am pretty much as safe as i can be, there has been rockets and attacks in the areas around where i live and smaller individual instances within it but nowhere near the scale of what's been going on elsewhere. emotionally i've had a few very rough days and very, very low points this past week, i won't lie, especially since i've spent the first week just kinda absorbed in following the news, but i'm doing much better than i used to and figuring out ways to deal with it and to cope, i've had a lot of people willing to listen and talk to, and i managed to find community in several different places to bond around this and work through it together

and you know for all the awfulness and all the ways people have been horrible about it online and elsewhere there's also been a lot of goodness, many, many people reached out to me personally in support, and i treasure and appreciate every single bit and every single effort you can make. and honestly it's especially valuable coming from gentiles and in general everyone who isnt affected or involved, i understand the risk it carries for you all to go against the grain and how much easier it would be to just go long with the narrative that refuses to listen and understand. so again, thank you. this stuff kinda helps me get through the day, even if it's just thoughts, words, or reblogs, it is still valuable to me and others.

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multiverse-imagines · 1 year

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@lupina36-blog of ao3 and Tumblr!

Hello

I've loved Trigun for years! Vash is such a wonderful man!!! I would therefore like to make a request for an OS in which the Reader comes from another planet and is on a research mission on Gunsmoke and meets Vash who is unabashedly flirting with her and is keen to get to know her better, which the Readers do thrown into quite a dilema. Because on the one hand she likes the blonde very much and she thinks that he has beautiful eyes, on the other hand she is of course not allowed to tell him that she comes from another planet or that she is an alien. Would it be possible?

A/N: Anything is possible! I'll make it possible!!! Such a wonderful concept deserves to come to life! I'll be placing this during Episode 14 in Trigun 98. During the episode he has like, no screen time. I love hearing about Lihio, and your otp makes me so happy! Let's fuckin gooooo

This will be 2 parts, minimum. This first one is kinda short, because I have better ideas for part 2!

Adventures of Lihio-Minaa: Episode 1

The Mission is Compromised

Landing in the sand just outside of a small town of Gunsmoke, her skin color changing from her beautiful green to a modest tan.

Lihio-Minaa brought her goggles over her eyes to check over her most recent mission checkpoints. She had been sent to Gunsmoke to check on the humans quality of life, their cohabitation ratio with Plants, and progress of life since crashing on this planet 130 years ago. The Federation found it odd that life as fragile as a humans had managed to survive on a planet like this for this long.

She trekked into town, nearly regretting wearing her sneakers as she felt the sand sinking into them. She lifted her goggles as the wind died down around her, the buildings of the little town of Promotory. She had noticed the small few acres of geoplants on the land of one resident. Everyone else seemed pretty miserable.

They went about their day to day, sure, but their dopamine levels and serotonin levels were so low, Lihio could barely tell they were alive. She couldn't believe they were even functioning.

Making her way to a local saloon, the levels seemed to be higher there, as patrons drank and smoked to their heart's content. Not wishing to deal with the rowdy crowd, she turned to leave, bumping into someone.

She looked up to see a man in a long red duster coat. His luscious blond hair defied gravity as it stuck upwards like fields of wheat. His eyes, surprised but quickly melting at the sight of her, reminded her of the waterfalls of Virmire. A beautiful blue when shining in the sun, yet his eyes retained that color in the shade of the bar.

"Oh Sorry, Miss, I didn't mean to run into ya!" He was surprised, "Why don't I buy you a drink as an apology?" He offered. There were no underlying motives in his voice.

"Um, sure." Lihio nodded. He guided her to the bar, ordering a bottle for the two of them to share. The stuff was cheap, but tasty.

"I haven't seen you around, before, are you new in town?" He asked after taking a drink, allowing the alcohol to seep into his system. A quiet beep from her goggles that could only be heard by Lihio, meant she should check her Glass Ware. This was the computer she kept in the safety of her goggles. She couldn't do that with this man here.

"Yeah, I just stumbled in today. Got tired of being cooped up at home, and decided to go on an adventure." She shrugged, taking a drink of the whiskey, not feeling much. With the alcohol loosening his mind, she did a gentle search into his mind to see what this planet was like.

She blinked, flabbergasted. She'd seen too much. Too much for any more human to have in his head. Life on the Seed ships, a mother figure, the Fall, his hardships. The trials he faced… a brother… a wanted poster with his face… a door of locked memories he didn't have access to. This man… he was a plant. An independent plant.

Lihio hadn't met many independent plants in her time, but she knew they were a species that lived for a long time, as long as nothing happened to them. They didn't seem to die from aging. He isn't that much older than she is.

"W-what's wrong?" He said, noticing Lihio's surprised face.

"O-Oh, I just realized I don't even know your name, stranger!" She said, recovering. The man gave a light chuckle.

"My name is Vash the Stampede." He held his hand out to shake.

"Lihio-Minaa. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Stampede." Lihio shook his hand and nodded.

"Lihio, what a beautiful name!" He smiled, "It sounds like… standing in a tall field of flowers…" he closed his eyes, as he imagined standing in a field of sunflowers. A memory from the seed ship, no doubt.

"Thank you. And Vash is quite a beautiful name as well." She complimented.

"I think you would look lovely with a crown made of little flowers, or a beautiful bouquet in your hands." He continued, a gentle smile on his face that sent a shiver up Lihio's spine.

'This man is a problem' Lihio nearly frowned at the thought. She liked him a lot. He'd been through so many hardships. He had a wealth of information about this planet, its people, and its tragedies. She had seen a memory of his scars. So many scars that covered him from head to toe.

This long life had not been kind to him. She saw friends, people he called family, only to betray him. Humans who lived such short lives, yet he loved them unconditionally, no matter what sin they created.

"You okay? You seem lost in thought." He asked gently. His eyes looked worried.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just admiring your coat. It's a lovely color." Lihio recovered.

"Ah, Thanks. It was a gift from my family." The thought of the ship that still floated above Gunsmoke drifted through his mind at the memory, "I need to go home and visit them sometime." He nodded.

"I know the feeling. It's… been quite a while since I left my home." She nodded. This was a fib, honestly. She'd been home maybe a few years ago. Work had kept her busy.

The two of them talked about anything and everything, allowing Lihio to get her information about this planet and its inhabitants. This planet desperately needed help, and she would bring it to them.

While Vash was partying it up with the locals, she snuck out of the bar. She was a few buildings down when she heard Vash's voice.

"Hey! Aren't you gonna stick around?" He jogged up to her, and an orange and green necktie swayed, smacking him in the face as he drunkenly tottered.

"I have to go, Vash. I had an amazing time."

"Whaaaat? C'mon, stay a little longer!" He whined, gently patting her head, "it'll be fun!"

"I'm sorry. I would love to stay, but I can't." She frowned up at him. He looked drunk enough that he might not remember anything in the morning.

"Goodbye, Vash. I'll miss you." She stepped back from him, and clicked her watch, her skin returning to a pale green and she was beamed back up to her ship.

---

Lihio walked to her bosses office, practically breaking down the door in her excitement.

"Sir, I have a request!"

#trigun #trigun brain rot #Lihio-Minaa x Vash #oc x vash #this was so fun! im excited for part 2!#what is Lihio's request?!?! find out next time!

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yourfaveanon · 8 months

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LOL AKAKAKKA ABSOLUTELY RIGHT! MANUEL NEUER HOLDS POWER LIKE NO OTHER IN THAT WHOLE COUNTRY (I'm obviously not the same anon) I believe he has some extraordinary kind of power in privilege behind him and his sexuality is not my business and it doesn't look like he can please either me or women in bed so ahem. But come on that privilege reflects through everything he does. Like Bayern gave away Nübel on loan, to keep Neuer happy. Bayern didn't sign a good goalkeeper, to keep Neuer happy. Bayern had to calm down when Neuer spit out shit after Bayern fires Tapalovic for being PARTIAL. All to keep Neuer happy. I feel like we do all just to not upset our previous little man. Sarcasm, obviously. One thing that makes me sympathize with him is the way he has to tolerate homophobic slurs in almost every international game. I hate his guts. Anyone who works/worked at Bayern would know why. Remember, when Gómez went through injury, Bayern sold him without second thought and had him on the bench season after season. When Neuer intentionally skiis down the slope during mid-season, Bayern coddles him. No player, I repeat, no player from the DFB/Bayern team ever had so much privilege as Manuel Neuer, and neither will anyone ever. This man very easily forgets why he got to this position that he is at, now. That's because Enke couldn't take it anymore. The defence rests, your honor.

I LOVE when people act like these athletes r just lil babies and when I say love I mean HAVE A STROKE

literally the bar is SO LOW. he waved at a baby?? he posted on social media?? he asked for donations for a cause??? OMG SO SACRIFICE BIG BRAVE

these little princelings who have spent their entire lives thinking about themselves like WOW they r pure ANGLE okay then

it is LESS THAN THE BARE MINIMUM they get SO MUCH at the expense of society and yet somehow omg?? they're not obligated to do a thing??? they can be a piece of shit if they want to??? that's their god given right??

I guess it's also people's god given right to have absolutely no standards or expectations

these r the same people who are like the government doesn't own u anything! politicians don't have to be good people! LIKE OKAY YEAH AND THEY DONT' HAVE TO BE ELECTED EITHER MY GAWD

anyway where was I going oh yeah neuer has been a princeling his entire life he literally has every single aspect of his life taken care of he has unlimited resources and has never had to worry about anything. I truly cannot even. it's the same song and dance every single time. some guy who's got more money than he can spend in 15 lifetimes due to a completely arbitrary societal value that helps absolutely zero people and he donates .01 dollars and is an angle okay

my blood pressure

ANYWAY IT'S SO FUNNY WHEN THEY WEAR THOSE STUPID RAINBOW THIGNS BECAUSE I ABSOLUTELY KNOW IN MY SOUL THAT THEY R STILL THROWING SLURS AT EACH OTHER AND THEIR FATHERS AND UNCLES

#this makes me lose it every god damn time why are people like this

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vy-tachibana · 1 year

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Rough (and I mean rough no blending, colored outside the lines, etc) drawing that I refuse to actually finish by adding details or cleaning it up but figured I might as well share it

(Can you tell I did the bare minimum on the clothes just enough to make it distinctly Pomefiore?)

Name: Yasaymi Wayullu (Twisted from Yzma-Emperor’s New Groove)

Grade: Second-year

From the Scalding Sands

Has a childhood friend, Kunak Zumaraln (Twisted from Kronk) who is part of Savanaclaw (maybe he’s human, maybe he’s a chipmunk beastman idk haven’t decided)

Yes I know the animal Kronk talks to is Bucky the squirrel but he was “a Junior chipmunk”although that is his boy scout rank but liberties apply

May sketch him later idk

Would get along with Jamil because they both had to take care of people like servants and went vastly under appreciated, also from the same place

I reckon that Twisted!Kuzco (who’s a first-year at RSA) ‘s family is wealthy and frequently does business with Kalim’s family. That or maybe Kuzco’s family is a branch of the royal family? (What’s the scalding sands lore? Do they have a sultan or…?)

Side note: Twisted!Kuzco befriend third-year RSA student Twisted!Pacha

But this isn’t about them

Yasaymi is Vil’s favorite underclassman (sorry Epel) since he embraces and even enhances his feminine looks, gets good grades, has a talent for the fine arts, gets what needs to be done done

Honestly like a mini-Vil in a way

But is also just.

If Epel is a feral gremlin, Yasaymi is a free-range menace

His mottos are “if it doesn’t say you can’t then you can” and “everything’s free real estate as long as you don’t get caught”

Causes problems on purpose (takes joy in the fact that there’s no Twisted!Kuzco to take care of so all his repressed childhood inner beastie is unleashed upon Night Raven)

Is that student that doesn’t pay attention in class, crams/pulls an all-nighter the night before (much to Vil’s chagrin) and then aces the test the next day

“You should study in moderation every day so the information sinks into your brain. Not sleeping will ruin your complexion”

“It hasn’t failed me yet, senpai”

“That’s not the point-“

“If it’s not broke, don’t fix it 🤩”

Worst class is probably PE just cuz he doesn’t want to put in all that work and get sweaty

“Yeah but you can’t PROVE I’m not trying my hardest, that’s subjective”

“You’ve hardly worked up a sweat”

“But according to prior attempts, I’ve improved haven’t I? Data doesn’t lie, I must be doing something right to reach a new milestone. Aiming too high without a proper foundation could hurt me in the long-run”

(Totally planned and set the bar low from the beginning so that future goals set would be well within reach without needing to work for it. His stamina is actually really good, had to be to keep up with wrangling Twisted!Kuzco 25/8)

Best class is alchemy but also drives Crewel a little insane because he overcomplicates every recipe where they aren’t even recognizable methods.

Definition of getting the right answer with the wrong formula

“That’s not how you’re supposed to brew this potion. How did you even create this potion using a completely different ingredient make up and brewing method? That shouldn’t be possible”

If there’s anything you’ve taught me Teach, it’s that anything is possible if you put your mind to it :)”

Terrified people in that class because if something goes wrong who knows what kind of monstrosity he’d create

But as long as he’s turning in potions that complete the assignment, no one can say shit to him about it

Would enters into contracts with Azul and purposely breaches them just to mess with him

Of course the actual punishment would have to be reasonable enough for him to do it but Yasaymi is the name and malicious compliance is his game

“Why do I not have access to your unique magic? There’s no way you’re able to negate my own so just how?”

“Contract stated that I’d give you my most prized magical ability, not my unique magic. And what I believe MY most prized magical ability is my talent in potion-brewing”

“YOUR POTION BREWING DOESNT EVEN MAKE SENSE! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO USE SOMETHING I DONT UNDERSTAND”

“That’s rough, buddy”

“Yasaymi, these study guides I ordered you to make are worthless. You’ve barely put more than a single bullet point in some sections and even the facts aren’t even right”

“Hey I obey the letter of the law. You asked for study guides and I delivered. You should have specified that you wanted them to have correct information”

“You were supposed to place it on my desk”

“I did! It just happened that your desk magically relocated itself to the woods behind campus”

“…I asked you to sell these experimental samples at the festival….”

“Yep!”

“…and you returned with zero thaumarks to give me.”

“Well, I did sell them but then I saw this stand with some gorgeous hair accessories that I thought Rook-senpai and Vil-senpai would enjoy and remembered that you never said I couldn’t keep the thaumarks for my own use so I spent them.”

Azul eventually cuts his losses and rips up the contracts himself

“Hey Azul I need a favor, enter into another contract with me 👉👈🥺?”

“NoO”

“Pleeeeease?”

Just to tell me what you need. I’ll do it so just leave me alone, I beg of you. You’re going to ruin my business at this rate.”

All according to keikaku (Plan: long-con Azul into thinking he’d profit but constantly mess everything up for him, but knowing azul he’d be determined to not give up. I can wear him down though I bet, especially if losses outweigh the wins. Became so infamous that he’d dread even being near me which would let me ask him a favor and he’d do it for me for free. The marks of a true friendship. Doing things with no strings attached)

Every day Riddle thanks the Sevens that Yasaymi wasn’t sorted into Heartslabyul

Started the “Awareness” club. Whose main activity is working to raise member’s proficiency with sensing malignant intent around them, as well as being able to positively channel negative emotions to prevent overblot. A self-defense/self-help club.

Actually just a front for a pranking club as pulling tricks on students and faculty based on the premise of the club can be counted as activities supported by the school since it would for other people to “raise their own awareness of their surroundings”

Grim joins and Yuu is an unofficial member.

One of his cards duo magic is with Epel and the line is “Come little Apple, I shall show you the true art of how to get your way” “Let’s prank ‘em Senpai!”

His nickname is probably Miyu/Miyullu courtesy of Cater

I also imagine that when Lilia makes an extremely lethal dish, Silver calls in Yasaymi who has the confounding ability to turn Lilia’s batshit crazy recipes into something edible (and quite tasty)

#twst oc #yasaymi wayullu #he's problem child numero uno #mister i didn't get a proper childhood #and now i'm making it everyone else's problem #arty starty #twisted wonderland #twst

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i-say-spooky-you-say-scary · 1 month

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Something that’s kind of messing with me right now is that like

I feel like nobody in my family has really tried that hard to connect with me or know me or help me in any way, and they keep on making me feel shitty and unworthy and rejected

And my dad is just. The worst. So many people will learn about him and just be like holy shit what a comically horrific person

And yet he is somehow still the one and only person in my family to ever express any regret in his role in damaging me. He chalked it up to just “not being around enough” and denied actually being abusive but it’s like, wow, at least he fucking recognized that he did actually fuck up and fail at some point, and he made some moderate attempt at bridging this insurmountable gap between us and asking me, actually asking me, to go spend time with him. Nobody else does that or has done that. Nobody else asked me to be with them. My mom has never apologized for neglecting me or failing to protect me or making me feel like shit, never recognized that she fucked up as a parent in any way, doesn’t make me feel like she wants me to spend time with her, and my older brother has never owned up to his role as an abuser and a bully. I’m able to own up to being an older sibling bully to my younger brother, but I’m not given that decency in turn and I’m held solely responsible for what all of my suffering has done to me and never given credit for how I have grown and how hard I have worked.

My dad has done the bare fucking minimum of basically being like “I wish I’d been a better parent” while still continuing to be a shitty fucking parent and it’s better than anything else I’ve been given. Yeah, he’s made me feel like a fucking prop and an accessory and a canvas to just project his own desires onto, but the rest of my family also makes me feel like an unforgivable unwanted rabid stillborn mistake, so, like. The bar is low.

My dad is still a monster and horrible and he deserves the fact that I cut him off and he will die alone but like. Why did he, in his own fucked up way, try harder than the rest of my family?

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gaykey · 9 months

Note

I honestly didn’t think they’d apologize or even acknowledge the issue. I know it was owed and it’s the bare minimum but i’m so used to never getting even the bare minimum so i’m emotional????? It doesn’t fix thing obviously but at least i feel like they had a reality check

yeah, everyone was shocked tbh. sad that that's how low the bar is.

i'd like to hope? this was a reality check for them, but i guess that remains to be seen.

the apologies seemed sincere at least.

#anon

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matwith1t · 3 years

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A/N: ‘Tis the season for playoff beards so ‘tis the season for playoff beard fics. Thank you, thank you for the words of encouragement!! They mean the wooorld to me 🌍🌎🌏 !! Wherever you call home, I hope you’re having a great day/night!

Request: Could you maybe write a blurb about the reader being excited for the playoffs beard?

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: Allusion to smut // WC: 2.1K // Fluff

You got the notification just as you finished paying off your tab at the bar. It had come after the blaring siren noise signaling the end of the game, after congratulatory hugs from your friends, and after the players raised their sticks up in appreciation for the fans in attendance.

With a win over the Rangers, The New York Islanders officially clinched the last playoff spot in the Eastern Division.

You had been a fan of hockey long before you somehow ended up with a professional hockey player for a boyfriend. The feeling of your favorite team extending their playing into the postseason always caused excitement. But there was a different sort of pride you felt coursing through your veins as the camera panned to show an exceptionally smiley Mat.

“You know what this means,” one of your friends leaned down to whisper in your ear, a smirk on their face and a devious gleam in their eye, “Playoff beards.”

You sat frozen in your seat as the world continued to move around you. A vertigo sensation caused you to feel dizzy as the words grew with meaning. Again, you had been a fan of hockey before you somehow ended up with a professional hockey player as a boyfriend. You had seen playoff beards before.

But you hadn’t seen a playoff beard on your boyfriend.

Knowing that their words caused you to silently spiral alone in your head, they patted your shoulder as a way of saying good luck.

When the waiter came back with your card, you slipped it back into your wallet, and bid your friends goodbye as you had to pick Mat up from the arena. They all waved goodbye with wicked smirks on their faces.

On your drive to the arena, you blasted music in hopes it would drown out the thoughts in your mind. You wanted a clear head when you talked to Mat about the game tonight, he would no doubt be excited about clinching a playoff spot, and you wanted to concentrate on driving safely. Once you made it to the arena, you parked where you always waited until Mat came out from the players exit.

Sitting alone in your car, with your knee bouncing, you turned the music up louder.

You needed to calm down, it was only the beginning of May and the playoffs wouldn’t start until a few weeks. It was too early to feel this excited about playoff beards. But when Mat texted you saying he would be a little late to your car because everyone was celebrating in the locker room… You succumbed to your desires and pulled out your phone.

New York Islanders playoffs 2020 was what you typed into the Google search bar. And when all you saw were team pictures, you narrowed down your search: Mat Barzal playoffs 2020. And low and behold… You were graced with images that your mind could only conjure up in your dreams.

To anyone, the pictures basically looked all the same: Mat in his New York Islanders gear, skating on the ice. His face was mostly hidden by his helmet, but you could still see him. And you could still see his playoff beard.

You inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nostrils as you continued to scroll.

The pictures ranged from clean shaven Mat, him growing out his scruff, and then to a full beard with long hair when the Islanders reached their furthest point in the Stanley Cup playoffs. You saw different versions of Mat, but the pictures on Google were more of an in your face kind of growth of his facial hair rather than a slow progression. While playoff games were played fairly close together, the press pictures weren’t privy to seeing the official start of his facial hair.

The media wasn’t granted access to see how his facial hair progressed from the moment he went to sleep to when he refused to wake up in the mornings. But you would be able to see that growth. From the light stubble growing into scruff that would eventually grow to cover his jawline––

A knock on your window startled you and you locked your phone when you saw Mat wave at you through the window. With a smile, you unlocked the door and he opened it.

“Do you mind if we drive Beau to his place?” Mat said as he reached over his shoulder for the seat belt to buckle himself in.

You nodded repeatedly, and when Mat didn’t hear a verbal confirmation from you, he lifted his head at you with raised eyebrows. You cleared your throat and blinked a few times, “Yeah––Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Cool,” he smiled as he texted on his phone, presumably to Tito, “He had to go to the bathroom so he shouldn’t be far behind.”

You nodded your head again as you took in the way his clean shaven face lit up by the artificial lighting of his phone. He felt your stare on him and looked up with a tilt of his head.

“Good game,” you congratulated him and his smile widened. Mat dropped his phone to his lap, wanting to take in all of your words, “It was good, You were really good. Everyone played well and not to mention the playoff spot.” You leaned over the center console to press a kiss to Mat’s soft, clean shaven, face, “I’m proud of you.”

Mat playfully shrugged his shoulders, knowing that he played a good game, “Yeah it was exciting.”

You and Mat fell into a silence as he picked back up his phone, nudging Tito along, and you stared at him. More specifically, stared at his bare face. Your mind wandered from innocent thoughts to how facial hair would make him look older than his age, to more impious thoughts of how his beard would feel across your skin.

The back door opening stopped your thinking and caused you to jump as you and Mat turned your heads to see Tito duck into your car.

“Jeez, turn the music down.”

Bashfully, you turned the volume knob down and took your car out of park, “That was a nice goal you had, Tito.”

“Thanks,” you saw him smile brightly from your rearview mirror, “If only we could start growing out our playoff beards now.”

Mat laughed at Tito’s joke, but your grip on the steering wheel tightened.

The two friends continued their banter, while your mind continued to spiral at the thought of Mat and his playoff beard. And after you dropped Tito off at his place, the silence between you and Mat continued as you drove to his apartment. You parked in the spot that you unofficially claimed as yours and walked into his building hand-in-hand.

Once he unlocked the door, and hung up his suit jacket on the coat rack, Mat circled his arms around your waist and pulled you in close for a hug. You hugged him back just as tight, eyes closed with a soft smile toying at your lips. While Mat played aggressively during games, when he got back to his apartment, he liked to wind down.

Mat nuzzled his head further into the crook of your neck and you felt a breath of hot air fan your neck. You felt content standing in the entrance of Mat’s apartment; strong arms around you, as he began to softly press his lips against your neck. His kisses weren’t urgent, they were gentle, and lingering in one spot. His slow pace also clued you into that he didn’t expect his kisses to lead to anything further.

He just wanted to press his lips to your skin to feel you.

“Are you excited for my playoff beard?” Mat mumbled into your neck.

Your whole body froze up.

Mat let out a small chuckle, and with your arms still around him, you slightly leaned back to look at him, “What?”

With one last kiss to your neck, Mat pulled away and looked down at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “After the game, the boys were talking about how their wives and girlfriends get all excited for the beards in the postseason,” his smirked widened as he pinched your waist, “And you were very quiet tonight.”

“That’s not true,” you tried to cover yourself as you felt embarrassment brewing in the pit of your stomach, “I––I said you played a good game.”

“Mhm,” Mat hummed with a proud smile, “But after Beau brought up the beards you were dead quiet.”

And just like how you went quiet in the car at the mention of playoff beards, you went quiet now. Because how were you supposed to verbalize your excitement? You knew you could say anything and it would feed into Mat’s ego…But how were you supposed to tell him how unimaginably excited you were to see his playoff beard while also expressing the tiniest bit of disappointment mourning his clean shaven face?

With his clean shaven face he looked so youthful. You could clearly see his smile lines when he tipped his head back in laughter, feel his soft skin on yours when he brushed his cheek against yours, and it was the version of him you fell in love with. Not to say you still wouldn’t love the version of Mat with a playoff beard.

Because when you really thought of him growing out a beard…All you thought about was how the dark facial hair would enhance the strong dark color of his eyes. How he would look more mature. And how the short hairs scratching against your skin would drive you absolutely insane. You would love that Mat just as much, but you had to keep your thoughts in check.

“I am excited to see you grow out a beard,” you breathed out a laugh and broke eye contact with him after you saw his eyebrows raise with enthusiasm. You played with the fabric of Mat’s dress shirt between your thumb and index finger, “I just can’t think too much about it.”

“Oh?”

He sounded intrigued.

You poked his stomach and rolled your eyes, “I looked at pictures of you from previous seasons and it…” you took a deep breath and looked up into his greedy eyes, wanting to hear all of your thoughts about him, “I had a lot of emotions.”

“Care to share those emotions?” He tried to keep his mischievous tone to a minimum, but with the way his smirk widened and his hands crept under your t-shirt, you knew he was losing a battle with himself.

“They’re private.”

Mat tipped his head back in laughter; eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, crinkled nose, with those smile lines you loved so much. He squeezed your hips once more and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. At his close proximity, you let your eyes close at his close proximity; always captivated with the feeling that encased your body when his lips kissed your body.

Still keeping his face close to yours, he dragged his nose across the side of your face until his smooth cheek rested against yours, he breathed in your ear, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Your chest expanded with the deep breath you inhaled. His face was so clean––so soft––as he brushed his skin against yours. There wasn’t a feeling you loved more than his skin on yours. And thinking about the new feeling of his facial hair on your skin sent your body into overdrive.

Your voice slightly wavered as you continued to rub the material of his shirt between your fingers, “I think we need to set a precedent.”

“Oh?”

He sounded like he knew exactly what you were proposing.

You shrugged your shoulders, shyly looking up at him as his eyes darkened with every second of silence that passed. With Mat’s hands placed directly on your skin, his thumbs slowly started to rub small circles on your waist.

“You know…” your small voice trailed off, “To see if I prefer you clean shaven or with facial hair.”

Mat’s smirk transformed into a full blown smile as he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you right up against his body. You felt his chest expand a few times as he let out a confident chuckle, “Say no more.”

After both of you agreed on the proposal you brought forward, and Mat dragged you into his bedroom, the only word you said was his name as he ducked his head under the sheets and began to kiss down your torso.

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heyhihellowhatsup0 · 3 years

Text

Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter Two (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 5255

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N: I am HYPE to post this new chapter! Omg I just love writing this series so much its so fun writing Tom like this lol. Also low key...this chapter has an easter egg to a pervious series of mine and I’m v curious if anyone catches it but probably not because its superrr tiny but either way I hope you guys like this one! Obviously, smut is in this chapter! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

“What happened to that girl you took home the other night from The Lace Rabbit?” Harrison asked as he ordered his lunch before he took a seat at the table with Tom. It was typical for them to meet up during the week on their lunch breaks and catch up when they were not busy being wingmen for the other while bar hopping on the weekends.

Tom shrugged off Harrison’s question as he took a bite of his sandwich, “She got a little clingy so I had Y/N help me get rid of her,” he smiled as he said your name out loud. His friends knew of you as the hot girl who lived next door who bailed him out of sticky situations. Always teasing Tom how he could never actually get you. The irony made it all too funny for him, “How’d it go with that blonde girl?” he asked to change the subject off of him.

He didn’t know if he should bring up the two of you sleeping together with Harrison. Harrison was his best friend and wouldn’t judge but he knew he’d give Tom shit for it. He’d want to know details of your arrangement or how it came about, if you were really that good and Tom didn’t feel comfortable answering that. Not if it was about you. He didn’t want his other friends knowing about you in the way he did. That was personal between you both and he wanted to show you he respected you.

“It didn’t,” Harrison admitted while taking a sip of his water. He let out a chuckle as he felt himself blushing, “Forgot her name and she spilt her drink on me. Can’t say I didn’t deserve that one,” he at least knew when he was in the wrong.

Tom cringed into his sandwich as he let out a cackle, “You definitely deserved it, mate,” he laughed with another bite. His phone vibrated in his pocket but he chose to ignore it, knowing like clock work what it probably was. It was going to ruin the rest of his day and he at least wanted to enjoy lunch with his friend before getting pissed off for the day.

“She’d probably love you,” Harrison teased.

“Fuck off,” Tom rolled his eyes with a laugh. “I’m not taking your angry seconds.”

“Don’t knock angry sex til you try it,” Harrison smirked knowingly.

Tom shook his head as he once again ignored the phone ringing, “I think I’m good, thanks,” he brushed it off with another eyeroll.

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt weird talking about their last venture out at the club. Maybe it was because Tom knew where he ended up after that girl had left and he knew what that meant for the both of you. But Tom wasn’t done with his bachelor days, and even you knew that. Hell, you practically insisted since this was a no strings attached deal.

It just felt strange not telling Harrison about you. Like it was a weird secret. But at the same time, he felt oddly protective of you. Not wanting his friends to see you as some girl he was getting laid with. Or worse, a potential love interest. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. Hell would be freezing over before Tom decided on any sort of long term obligation. But he knew his friends and he knew they wouldn’t see this is a simple agreement between two friends. And he didn’t want to deal with that conversation.

Staying quiet was the better option. For his own sanity. And...well, would you care if he told anyone about this? Tom figured that was another rule he’d have to ask about. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and he knew you had a list of rules as well that he was happy to follow. As long as that meant one thing and one thing only: non-exclusive.

Harrison noticed Tom’s phone buzzing for the third time. And Tom ignored it for the third time. He checked the message with a huff of his breath before turning the screen face down on the table, going back to his lunch before he had to get back to work.

“Clingy girl?” Harrison nodded towards Tom’s phone.

Tom shook his head, “My mother was supposed to visit this weekend but you know the routine,” he mumbled into his food, not even wanting to respond to her.

“Let me guess,” Harrison began, knowing exactly where this was going since he knew Tom’s whole story inside and out. Including the bits he hated to discuss which was mainly his family, “Going skiing with Clint in Veil instead?” he questioned knowingly.

Tom scoffed out a laugh at his guess, “Surfing with Clint in Malibu but same shit,” he corrected as he tried not to let it get to him. But even Harrison could tell he was getting bothered by it once again and who could honestly blame him.

Always the same story every time no matter what and Tom grew tired of her antics. He couldn’t even blame Clint for it anymore considering she’d been this way since he was a kid before he was even in the picture. Only now she would just use him as the perfect excuse to get out of coming to visit.

He knew he shouldn’t care anymore but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t something easy for him to simply let go of. It was his mother. And no matter how many times he’d try she would always give him back the bare minimum and it always made him upset. She was his one final connection to him and she could care less about any of it, so why did Tom? It always got under his skin and he loathed that it did.

But he would still invite her. No matter how miserable it made him.

“Well at least now you’re free this weekend,” Harrison broke his thought while he gathered their garbage before they headed back to work, “The usual at The Lace Rabbit this Saturday then?” he suggested with a knowing smile to try and get Tom out of his mood.

Grabbing his phone, Tom clutched it tightly as he inhaled sharply. Knowing his change of plans meant doing his normal routine even though he was looking forward to the slight change this weekend, which now just seemed bleak to him

“Yeah,” Tom agreed as he tapped your name on his phone but hesitated when he saw his mother trying to call for a fourth time, “The usual this weekend.”

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Your chest tensed as you got into your car after your extremely long day in the office. Everything around you felt heavy and you couldn’t wait to get home as soon as you could but you found yourself still frozen in your car. Unable to move as the moments from earlier this afternoon invaded your thoughts once again while you tried your best to move in. Even though you knew you were completely grief stricken and didn’t know what the hell to do.

The promotion was yours, at least you had thought it was by the way your boss would constantly hint at it. You knew it was never a definite thing, but you were confident in the hard work you had put into your job and knew you were a top contender for the spot. You worked longer hours, took on extra tasks, you even worked on the occasional weekend to get your work done. Taking every precaution necessary to prove that you were the best fit for the role.

Everything felt like it was lining up for you. Co-workers were giving you a pat on the back for your work accomplishments, your boss was taking note of everything you were doing, and you overall felt really good about where you stood for the potential position. So imagine your surprise when you attended the big luncheon and your boss announced his undeserving son was getting the spot instead of you.

It was both nepotism and misogyny rolled into one and it made your stomach turn the longer you had thought about it. None of it made any sense and it was far from fair. You knew you were the one more deserving of the position, the whole office knew it. Even your damn boss knew but he chose his damn son over you and it felt like a stab right to your gut.

You felt so betrayed and beside yourself as you finally decided to head home. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you tried to focus on the road but you just couldn’t ignore the facts. How were you going to be able to show up and take orders now from your boss’ son? You knew the job more than he did and it felt like a huge screw you.

On your drive home, you tried to make yourself feel better by putting on some music to distract yourself but nothing helped. You felt beyond defeated and frustrated right now you didn’t know what was going to make you feel better at the moment. It felt like the world was against you. Between finding Justin with another woman and your job, you were really batting one thousand lately and you weren’t sure when you would catch a break.

Things were not going how you planned at all. The thought of just quitting your job and starting all over again crossed your mind but the fear of the unknown kept haunting you. You didn’t know which direction to go in or who to turn to for advice anymore. You were slowly drowning and you needed someone to throw you a goddamn life jacket already.

You were relieved to finally be home. Maybe some peace and quiet would make you feel a little better, you thought to yourself while you kicked your shoes off and turned some music on for yourself. Trying to put the day behind you and focus on the present moment while you got changed into more comfortable clothes to unwind.

You jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock at your door, not expecting anybody to come by right now. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you headed back towards the door and looked through the peephole. To your surprise, you weren’t really surprised at all. You were actually sort of relieved when you opened the door and saw Tom standing there holding a pizza box.

“That better have extra cheese,” you asked with a narrowed expression while you invited him inside with the pizza that he would always bring you even in normal times.

Placing the box on the kitchen table, Tom opened it with a grin as he showed you the pizza pie with cheese practically oozing from the crusts, “Figured it was an extra toppings sort of day,” he admitted, knowing he really needed the escape from reality. Even if it was just a pizza.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed as you grabbed a piece closest to you as Tom handed you a paper plate. You headed over towards your refrigerator to grab you both a few beers while Tom leaned up against your kitchen counter as he devoured his slice, “I’m guessing you had a bad day judging by your pizza presentation?” knowing there wasn’t really any particular reason he’d be coming over with it today. Unless if he wanted something?

You slowed your pace back from the fridge wondering if he was going to pick up on how you were feeling. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to notice. Whenever you and Tom had a pizza night it was merely to gossip about your lunatic neighbors or watch a game together. You talked about casual things but never really gone into depth or prying into each other’s lives. Why did it feel like suddenly you wanted something different? Would sex change that much in your friendship?

“We can just ignore that...we don’t have to talk about unimportant stuff,” you waved it off. Tom didn’t need to hear about your miserable day. And you didn’t want to pry into his.

He swallowed the last bite of his slice, “If something makes you upset, it’s not unimportant,” he noted. But when he noticed you just looking at him, he raised his hands in surrender. “Ignore my philosophical ass. But I’d like to hear about your day, you know,” he laughed it off.

What the hell was he doing? He thought to himself. Don’t let personal shit ruin this. Enjoy her company. That’s it.

“I didn’t get the promotion,” you told him. You had mentioned to Tom a while ago that your boss was hinting at it but you never went into detail with him about it. You weren’t used to Tom actually wanting to be open or the other way around. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly surprised Tom even gave a crap about stuff like this.

Tom frowned at your answer and he felt his heart sink a bit when you told him the truth about your bad day. He didn’t know much about your job but he was sure you were a hard worker. He saw how much you loved your job and how passionate you were about it when it would come up. You would share upcoming projects with him from time to time and he would see the look on your face whenever you explained them to him. So hearing that you were passed by for a promotion was upsetting to him.

“I...shit, Y/N,” he put his pizza down as he walked over towards to give you a hug. Sliding his hands around your waist he pulled you into him as he felt you relax against his chest, “You didn’t deserve that,” he added softly.

You allowed Tom to embrace you, his warmness comforting you a bit before you pulled away and started crying when telling him about your boss’ son getting the job instead of you. Making you laugh by calling him every name in the book, you and Tom finally found a common ground as you kept venting to him.

Tom pulled away slowly, his hand resting at your chin while he licked his lips, “You’re boss sounds like a fucking prick, I hope you know that,” he told you reassuringly. The small smile you formed when he spoke made him want to keep making you feel better, “I’m glad you’re smiling,” he blushed at his confession.

Stretching your mouth wider, you flashed Tom a playful yet overly wide grin to deflect the attention he gave to you. The two of you laughed as Tom pulled away with a loud chuckle, shaking his head at your sudden silliness, “That has to be the most hideous smile. But we’ll work on it,” he told you through his laughter.

You rolled your eyes before going back to your pizza, giving Tom a look as you nudged him, “Not gonna tell me about what happened to you?” you finally asked.

Tom tensed as he tried to brush it off with a simple shrug into his pizza. The thought of his mother’s texts and ridiculous apologies and excuses continued to drive him crazy as he mumbled into his bite, “It’s stupid shit,” he told you as he swallowed the crust he was chewing, “Mom stuff, not important,” he added bluntly.

You could see the look on his face and could tell it was important to him but you didn’t want to force him to talk about it. Tom was never one to bring up his family ever to you and that was the first time you had ever heard him even mention his mother. He never spoke of his father, at least to you, so you just assumed both were out of his life for whatever reason and it was none of your business to ask.

And Tom refused to admit it but he wanted you to ask about him. Spending hours upon hours at bars, turning his focus always onto the girl; because he knew no girl would ever want to go home with a self righteous, egotistical guy. It was never something Tom minded to do, especially with complete strangers who he would never open up to in a million years. It might have been the recent development he had with you but there was something refreshing he felt around you and as much as it freaked him out, he didn’t seem to mind.

But diving into his mommy issues with you now seemed too much to deal with right now. You were dealing with more than enough problems with your job and your miserable ex-boyfriend, he figured you didn’t need to hear his bitching right now anyway. He came here to get away from those shitty thoughts, not open those wounds further.

Tom came here for a distraction.

Licking his lips, Tom perked up as he looked at you fervidly, “Wanna have sex?” he asked matter of factly. He figured he didn’t need to beat around the bush since you had your arrangement but maybe he was a bit too direct with his request. Tom cleared his throat as he tried to save the night, “I-I mean, I just figured since we both had shitty days that maybe we could uhm-”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you cut him off with a smirk and you perked up as well, nodding as you smoothed out your hair. Standing back up as you turned your back towards him, removing your shirt in the process, “Let’s go,” you called over your shoulder as you headed towards your room.

“Oh, we’re jumping right in,” Tom mumbled to himself as he practically fell off his chair to follow you into your room, tossing his shirt beside yours as he practically froze already seeing you completely undressed, “Christ…” he breathed out while taking you in.

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to him, bringing your lips to his now bare shoulder, “You’re really acting like you haven’t seen me like this the other day?” You laughed against his skin while you began to suck a bruise against him, hearing him let out a gasp while your hand snaked into his pants sneakily, “Beginning to really like this whole friends with benefits thing we have,” you laughed as you found Tom’s lips.

Practically growling into your kiss, Tom lifted you up and lowered you onto your back on your bed. His lips traveled from yours, to your stomach, dipping his tongue into your belly button as you moaned quietly before he brought himself down between your thighs. His lips peppering your inner thigh before he got straight to the point because this whole arrangement meant no foreplay. Another plus for Tom.

“Darling, I think you may be the best friend I’ve ever had,” Tom breathed out a laugh as he pressed his tongue flatly against your clit. Sliding two of his fingers into your core while he slowly pumped in and out of you, “This is what got me through my day today,” he told you before he brought his mouth back to your core.

You arched your back while your fingers went towards Tom’s curls. His name began to fall from your lips while he lapped his tongue carefully, letting it slip inside of you as he continued to tease you with his mouth. His fingers sliding into you again, adding a third as he moaned against your center; allowing the vibrations to roll throughout your entire body.

“Mmm, oh, fuck...!” you cried out, yanking gently against Tom’s hair as you felt the coil beginning to burn from inside of you. Biting your lip to stifle another moan, “Fuck...yo-you’re really good at that,” you breathed out with a small laugh which turned into a whimper.

With his head peering up at you, Tom flashed you a cocky smile with a playful wink as he licked your folds teasingly, “Did you seriously doubt my abilities to make you cum with my mouth, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow while pumping his fingers now tantalizingly slow, “You’re gonna pay for that comment,” he said to you.

“Just...shut up and make me cum, Tom,” you told him through another gasp as you felt his teeth drag teasingly against your already throbbing bud. His lips wrapped around it as he sucked more harshly, doing exactly as you had asked him to do, “Ungh...oh god, okay. Yeah, keep doing that,” you instructed as you began to grind your hips against his mouth.

Tom took it as a challenge and picked up his pace, beginning to flick your clit faster while he continuously sucked on it. His three fingers now entirely coated in your warmth as he felt you clenching around them. His pants feeling tighter from his hard on while he knelt at the end of your bed trying to bring you to where he wanted.

His free hand splayed against your stomach, holding you in place while he felt you trying to squirm around from the way he was making you feel. Rubbing your clit in between his breaths, Tom looked up at you as he licked a solid stripe down your center, “Let out how you’re feeling from today and cum for me, Y/N,” Tom commanded.

Your eyes shut as you did exactly what Tom had suggested. Completely coming undone from beneath him while you released as much of the tension from earlier as you possibly could but in the most amazing way. Your eyes rolled back into your head while your back arched as Tom’s tongue continued to work you up while you were at your highest point.

Letting out a breathy laugh as you started to come down from it, feeling Tom begin to kiss his way back up your stomach with a smug look, “Don’t give me that look,” you rolled your eyes at his cockiness as his tongue traced along your neck, “I could do what you just did to myself, you know,” you tried to knock him off his high horse a bit while he pretended to be wounded from your words.

“Ah, but you didn’t. Did you?” Tom reminded you as his lips found yours. His hands still in between your thighs as he brought them between you both, showing you his coated fingers while he tasted you off of them, “Tastes like I made you cum because you wanted me to,” his smugness only elevated as he pushed himself off of you as he laid on his back on your bed.

“Need I remind you that you came to my place like a porno with a pizza looking to get laid,” you retaliated as you shifted so you were now hovering over him. Your hands guiding towards his belt buckle to get him out of his restraintive pants. The pleading look on his face made you just as smug, “Sounds like you want me to do just about the same thing, am I right or am I right?” you sang in his ear.

Tom helped you get the rest of his pants and boxers off, feeling himself spring out as he stared back at you with uncertainty, “Did you...just call me a porn star?” he questioned as the two of you let out a laugh.

“You wish, Tommy,” you teased as you ran your tongue down his abs, placing small and open kisses against his stomach as you made your way down to his legs while your hand carefully gripped his hardened length, your thumb running the pre-cum around his tip while you already heard him gasping for you.

Gripping your bedsheets with one hand, Tom reached around to create a makeshift ponytail to hold your hair. Cussing under his breath as he watched your mouth wrap around his tip, swirling your tongue around it while your eyes searched for his. He was really trying to hold it together but you were already driving him crazy.

“Let’s see what you got, Y/N,” Tom challenged you with a heavy breath as he tightened his grip around your hair, “Sometimes, girls think they know exactly what to do but-OH FUCK!”

His words were lost as soon as your mouth went straight down to his base. Suctioning as hard as you could before coming back up his cock painfully slow. Moaning your name as his chest began to heave, Tom felt his thighs start to quiver from under you. Even just watching the way you were working on him was enough to make him whimper right now.

“Fuck...okay, yeah I take that back,” Tom gasped as his nose crinkled up while his other hand white knuckled the sheets, “God, your mouth is fucking perfect. Why haven’t we done any of this shit before?” he was in such a fucked out haze, he wasn’t even sure if anything he was saying made any sense at all. But he felt his stress from earlier going away finally. Even if this was just a short state of bliss, he was grateful for it anyway.

“You really want me to answer that or would you just prefer me to keep sucking your dick?” you sassed while you kitten licked his tip. You watched from the end of the bed as Tom bucked his hips into your mouth to try and get more contact from your lips but you pulled away from him and just kept licking his tip.

God, you were good, Tom thought to himself.

‘K-keep going,” Tom finally breathed out, flinging his head against the pillow to brace for the impact.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pushed yourself all the way down his cock. Your tongue flicking the base in between as you began to feel him throb inside of your mouth. You could tell he was close so you moaned softly into his cock, watching as Tom shuddered from the sensation you just sent through him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tom cried out, moaning your name as he rutted his hips into your mouth. His pupils blacked as he felt the heat rising in his body, “Shit...I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warned as you pulled away, running your hand down his shaft as he began to come undone for you.

His warmth spilled out into your hand and down his cock while he let go finally. The stress somewhat leaving his body as it did yours while the euphoric high peaked for him. Your lips crashed against his while his tongue parted your lips to find yours, tangling them together as he moaned against your mouth while riding out his high finally.

You waited for Tom to catch his breath before you smiled against his lips, placing a small peck against them as you pulled away with an even bigger grin, “Yeah, you’re welcome,” you gave him the same arrogant tone he gave to you moments earlier before you pecked his lips again.

After taking some time to get yourselves together mixed with the continuous fooling around underneath the sheets, you and Tom finally decided to get up and end the night. Even though he didn’t want to leave, he knew he probably shouldn’t overstay. Primarily, Tom was adamant about never spending the night at a girl’s place that he slept with. That made things complicated and he didn’t want complicated. But since you and him had rules to not make things messy, he wasn’t sure if that applied to you. For now, he wanted to play it safe so he got himself dressed again.

You pulled on an oversized t-shirt, realizing both of your hair looked a mess. Luckily you were already home and Tom was down the hall so it didn’t really matter. You wanted to say something to Tom, that you were thankful he came by tonight. You were thankful even before sex was on the table. It felt nice to have him as an ally to swing by with a pizza when he didn’t even know you needed that.

“...is it weird to say I’m glad you came by?” you gestured towards your bedroom while you walked with him out into the kitchen where the half eaten pizza was left, “I know we haven’t really made too many rules about it but…” you trailed off with a nervous laugh as you smiled at him awkwardly.

“Like we said, zero weirdness,” Tom reminded you as he padded his way over to you. He grabbed a leftover crust from the box and shoved it in his mouth, clearly starving already from the workout you had just given him. He smiled while he chewed lazily, his mouth still filled with pizza crumbs, “But I’m happy to come by when we have shit days...and make you cum as well,” he smirked deviously.

The door opened as you smiled back, “Doesn’t have to be just bad days, you know. We could...screw whenever we feel like it,” you told him, hoping that it wasn’t too much.

“Did you just say screw?” he whipped his head towards you with a loud laugh.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just leave you to the girls who leave you unsatisfied then,” you fought back.

Tom leaned against the door with his mouth gaped open, “They do not...leave me...unsatisfied?” he questioned himself, knowing that that was true, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Then why are you here?” you placed a hand on your hip, feeling the smile pulling at your lips while you messed around with him. You certainly weren’t in this mood earlier before Tom came around.

Pressing his lips together, Tom rolled his eye at you, “Fine...we can screw...whenever,” he leaned in closer to you with his eyes big as he mimicked your voice when you said it, “As long as we keep this thing strictly what we intended, you can use me whenever you need, Y/N,” and he meant it.

You didn’t back away when he sealed his words with a soft kiss, paired with his trademark grin. Tom pulled away slowly, taking in the moment as he wished you a goodnight quietly before kissing you against the cheek, “Like I said, best friend I ever had,” he said softly once again.

“Am I interrupting something?” A voice broke from behind the two of you. Both of your eyes widened towards each other as you both simultaneously pivoted your heads towards the staircase where the voice was coming from.

Tom closed his eyes with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore Harrison staring at the two of you with a crooked grin. Making it known to Tom that explaining this was going to be a lot tougher than he had imagined.

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