#I’m gonna go sleep off the rest of this grossness

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

Bags are packed (mostly 🫣)

Road trip snacks secured 😎

Cold medicine taken 😷

Sleepy time incoming 😴😴

Bday trip starting in t-minus 12 hours 🥹🥹🥹🎉🎉🎉

[pucksandpower]

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!

You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.

“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”

“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.

“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”

“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”

“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”

You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”

Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”

“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”

Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”

“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”

You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.

Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”

You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”

His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.

“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.

You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.

You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”

“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.

Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”

Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.

“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.

A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.

“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”

You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”

“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”

“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.

Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.

You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”

The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”

“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”

The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.

Almost.

A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.

“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.

Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.

“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.

“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”

“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”

“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”

“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.

“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”

“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”

“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”

“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.

“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”

Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”

“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.

You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”

“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”

“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”

You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.

Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.

By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.

“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”

“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.

“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”

“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”

“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.

Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”

And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.

You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.

“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.

You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”

“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”

Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”

You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”

“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.

Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”

“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.

You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”

Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.

“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.

Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”

Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”

“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”

“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.

You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”

Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”

That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.

“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”

Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.

“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”

“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.

Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.

For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.

You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.

“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”

Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”

“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.

You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”

Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.

Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”

“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.

Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.

“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”

You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.

A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.

The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.

“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.

“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”

Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.

One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.

[misctf]

A Surprise Gift

“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.

“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.

“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”

“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.

“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out. 

_______

The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.

“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.

Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.

“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”

Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.

“Was this you dude?”

“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”

“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”

Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”

Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.

“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.

Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”

But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.

_______

The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.

“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.

He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.

“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.

Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.

_______

Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.

“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?

Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.

“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.

Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.

_______

The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.

“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 

His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.

“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.

And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.

With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?  

He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.  

_______

Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.

“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”

Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”

“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”

But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.

Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”

Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.

“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”  

And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.

_______

It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.

As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.

“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.

His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.

“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”

[papaya-twinks]

can you do that lando and reader are best friends and they went to a club with max fewtrell and all their friends and end up hooking up after the club and when they wake up like all there friends are in the kitchen and max is like " so how was your guys night?" and lando spits out his drink

Warnings; kiss :)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

You watched with a grimace as Max and Pietra continued with their PDA saga, the rest of your friends hooking up with random people from the bar. “You find this gross too?” a voice groaned, as you turned round to see Lando. 

“It’s icky,” you agreed as he laughed. “I’m gonna get outta here, I hate this kinda shit,” he said, looking round as he dig his hands into his pockets, “wanna come? We can have some wine, like civilised people,”.

“God, those guys,” Lando groaned as he sipped on the red wine, sitting beside you as some random movie played in his lounge TV. “It’s so weird,” you said, “I don’t understand how someone can just have sex with someone you don’t even know,”.

“So you’d date someone if you knew them?” Lando asked, as you hummed, sipping on your drink. “Kinda. Like, not just know them vaguely. It’s like a connection, you know?” you smiled as Lando hummed. 

“Like, you know soulmates and shit?” you said, shaking your head with a laugh as he nodded. “Like, how do you know if you’ve met your soulmate? And what if you absolutely fuck up your date with them or whatever, do you just die single?”. 

“And what are the chances of-,” you said, but Lando cut you off with a chuckle. “You’re overthinking it,” he said with a smile, “Y/N, just live your life. If you love someone, you love them, okay?”. 

“I mean. It’s just…it’s hard when there’s a potential chance that you could be with another person who isn’t your soulmate. You could be my soulmate for all I know!” you laughed. God, Lando would love that to be true….

“I guess so,” he said, “I’ll sleep on the sofa, you can sleep in my bed,”. Your eyes widened at the proposal. “Lando, I can’t ask-,” you started but he wasn’t having it. “It wasn’t a question,” he said firmly as you sighed. 

“Whatever,” you said, giving him a good-natured smile. “Goodnight, Lando,” you said, a small smile on your face as you leaned down, pecking his lips softly, before going upstairs, surprised at your own confidence. 

You walked down the stairs, wearing nothing but some random hoodie Lando had left you on the side of the bed, your eyes wide you saw Max and Pietra at the breakfast bar. “Hace a fun night?” Max smirked. 

You turned round, Lando choking on his cup of coffee, the brown liquid trickling down his chin. “We didn’t do anything!” he exclaimed as Max and Pietra shot each other disbelieving looks. “Sure,” he snorted. 

[secretly-dum]

Could I get a Joel miller x reader fic where the reader gets her period and her past partners always made her sleep on the couch bc they thought it was gross and Joel is just like wtf at someone treating his daeling like that?

Come Back to Bed, Please?

pairing: joel miller x AFAB!reader

genre: romantic fluff <3

summary: you get your period and freak out over what Joel’s reaction could be.

warning/contents: reader has a period, blood mentions(obv), Y/N is used, AFAB reader, mentions of past relationships, it gets a tad bit angsty.

additional notes: ty for the request!! Im actually AFAB(I identify as agender btw) so I can relate to this 😭

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Your stomach starts to hurt and you immediately realize what time of the month it is. You rush to the bathroom and grab your stash of pads underneath the cold sink.

Knock, knock.

You completely forgot about Joel..

“Uh..Y/N? You..you alright…?” Joel questions worryingly, thinking the worst that could possibly happen to you.

“I’m alright…I’m just on period!” You yell out nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t make a snarky remark or say you’re disgusting.

“Alright, just tell me if you need anything.” He says and you hear him walk away. Fear washes off of you, but confusion starts to settle in when he didn’t give you the reaction you thought we was going to give you. Cleaning yourself up, a cold darkness settles outside, indicating that you should start to go to rest.

“Took Ellie to sleep, she told me to tell you ‘goodnight’” Joel says chuckling softly and you smile.

“Well, I’m tired too. Think I’m gonna head to bed now.” You say as you pick up your pillow and a blanket from you and Joel’s shared bed.

“Woah woah woah! The hell are ya’ doing?”

“Picking up my stuff…?”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m on my period, dummy.” You nonchalantly reply, and lay down on the couch. Joel looks at you with the most confused expression ever and realization hits you like a truck.

“That don’t mean you have to sleep on the couch.” His southern deep accent breaks the short silence between the two of you. Opening your mouth, your voice seemingly disappears from your throat, and now you’re the one confused.

“But that doesn’t…that doesn’t make you disgusted? Or something? Doesn’t that bother you?” You say, barely above a whisper.

“No…? Y/N…god dammit.” He pinches the bridge of his nose making you even more confused.

“Wha-“

“I’ve dealt with all sorts of blood before. I’ve seen clickers in front of me, and those shits are nasty. You really think blood like that is gonna bother me?”

Now that he says it, that really doesn’t make sense. His statement lingers in your head for a while before you say something.

“Well- I guess that’s just a reaction I get a lot. My past partners didn’t like the fact that I naturally bled, so they usually made me sleep on the couch.” You admit, looking down at the floor to avoid looking at Joel’s face. He stays silent longer than usual and you look up to see him being shocked.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle.

“That’s fucking absurd? No one should treat you like that, ever. They’re lucky I don’t know who they are.” He says walking to you and pressing his forehead against yours, pinning you down on the couch. A warm, fuzzy feeling enters your heart and you let your left hand trail up to his cheek. Moonlight hits the floor, brightening the living room.

“It’s not that serious Joel.” You say, playfully rolling your eyes.

“It’s that serious to me, you’re…you’re human. It’s something that happens naturally, if they don’t like that then you should’ve left them.”

Your gaze at him starts to turn blurry as tears show up in your eyes, you kiss him and he unexpectedly picks you up bridal-style. You squeal out his name and he tells you to ‘shush up’. He gently places you down on the bed.

“Get yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute.” The covers of the bed get on top of you and Joel leaves the room.

A few minutes passed, where is this man? you thought, and he walks in the moment you stop thinking.

“U-Uh..H-Here..” you grab a mug out of his hands and embrace the warmth of it.

“What is it?”

“Tea…it’s from a uh..tip that Tess told me that would help with cramps..” Red tints his face, but luckily from the darkness it’s not visible.

“Aww Joel, you didn’t have to do that!” You say as he steps in bed, you take a few sips from the tea and place it down on the table next to the bed. Joel slips more under the bed and fully gets comfortable, and you position to be the big spoon. You arm wraps around his back and you feel Joel kissing your shoulder.

“I love you, don’t let anybody tell you different.”

“Joel…

I love you too.”

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑬𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓*

Paring: Minho x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst(ish), Mostly Comfort

Warnings: Eating disorder?, Not Eating, Self Deprecation, Weight mentions. Sorry for any mistakes and any missing warnings

-🖤

Hanging out with Minho and a few of his friends while watching a new movie. You were situated at the end of the couch leaning against Minho as everyone talked about ordering food. Everyone put in their order on the app, as you looked through it only putting a small fry and burger on Minho caught eye of it. “Babe order more, you know that’s not gonna fill you up” he said taking the phone.

He put another burger and made your fry a large. “Yeah come on y/n don’t gotta eat small cause we are around” they say smiling. Minho smiles at you “y/n’s a good eater, I always know my food sucks if they won’t eat it” he said teasingly. His words didn’t come off with any ill intent but they burrowed their way into your head. They stayed there swirling around eating away at you. You knew he didn’t mean it in any ill mannered way. He was always happy to know you ate, that you took care of yourself. However his choice of words just made your stomach turn.

When the food arrived the smell of it just made your stomach flip. He handed you one of the burgers with a smile but it quickly faded when he looked at you. “You alright babe?” He asked “you look a little pail” he said. You shook your head feeling like your stomach was gonna heave “I don’t feel good” you said pushing the food away from you. “I’m gonna go lay down ok? You guys finish the movie.” You said getting up before going to bed though you headed to the bathroom.

Your stomach was doing Summer salts as you looked at your reflection. Your face pail but cheeks slightly flushed red. Your body felt clammy hot on the inside but cold to the touch. You ran yourself a cool shower, as you stood under the water you started to sob. ‘Do I really eat a lot?’ , ‘am I getting too big?’ , ‘does Minho find it gross?’ , ‘am I.. gross?’

Words kept swirling your brain as the tears kept falling. You worked yourself up so much you started to drive heave. You sat under the running water trying to pull yourself together. After getting out you made your way to your room curling up in bed. The warmth of the bed making you feel a bit better. You cuddled up to your pillow slowly drifting off to sleep.

A set of warm arms wrapped around you “how you feeling sweetheart?” Minho said softly. You pushed his hands down from your waist “stomach hurts.” You said softly. He moved his hands to lay on your arms rubbing them softly. “You rest ok? I love you” he said kissing your cheek. “Love you too” you said in almost a whisper.

The next few days you avoided food like the plague, Minho chocked most of it up to you not feeling well. However he was getting worried because you needed to eat, and he hasn’t seen you eat in how long. “Sweetheart I made some soup for you, will you eat a little?” He asked bringing you a bowl. You looked at him although he was smiling his eyes were filled with worry. “Minho I’m not really-“ you started to say only to be cut off by him. “I know but you haven’t eaten, please? Even if it’s just drinking the broth” he said.

You sighed a bit taking the bowl and drinking back a bit of the broth. It tasted so good at first the warmth of it sliding down your throat until it started again. ‘Stop eating’ , ‘you’re eating it too fast’ , ‘what a pig’. You choked at the broth, putting it down before running to the bathroom. You started to dry heave over the toilet eyes pricked with tears. Minho followed you his heart pounded with worry. He rubbed your back holding your hair incase you did throw up.

“We need to take you to the doctors” he said.

You shook your head quickly “no- I’m- I’m fine-“ you spit out.

“Y/n I’m worried about you! This isn’t normal, you’re gonna get really sick if you don’t get food in you!” He said his tone stern.

You wiped your mouth leaning back as he wrapped his arms around you. Both of you sitting on the floor leaning into his embrace. “They’re just gonna tell me to eat” you said softly. “And I don’t wanna do that” you trailed off.

“Why on earth not? You need to eat to live” he said trying to meet your eyes.

“Because.. I eat too much.. because..” you felt a lump in your throat tears daring to flow out. “Because I don’t wanna be described as a good eater, I don’t wanna feel like a pig when I eat more than one of something..” you started to cry half way through.

His eyes widened holding you tightly in his arms as you started to cry. “Sweetheart” he says softly turning you to look at him. “Is this why you haven’t been eating?” Your silence tells him all he needed to know. “Sweetheart, my love. You eating well and loving food like I do is one of the sexiest things about you. I love that we can try new things, I love that we can cook and bond over that stuff. It’s one thing that makes me love you the most” he says taking your face into his hand.

“I know I said those words the ‘you’re a good eater’ but I don’t mean them in any way negative. It makes my heart so happy to see you enjoy my food.” He kissed your lips softly. “Please sweetheart, it might be hard but you need to eat. And I’ll be here with you to help okay?”

You nodded his words making you cry a bit more. You leaned your head into his shoulder as his hands ran up and down your back. “What’s something you think would be safe to eat? I’ll make that for you and we can eat it together.” He said standing up taking your hand into his. “And even if you don’t eat it all, even if you just manage a bite that’s ok too. You’re trying and that’s all that matters” he kisses your forehead.

You pulls you to him as you order something you think you can stomach while you wait Minho holds you close. “Thank you.” You said softly fingers tracing over his. “Thank you for being here for me.. I’m sorry I-“ he hushes you.

“Do not say sorry or I’ll start tickling you.” He said with a smile.

“But I am” you said words ghostly soft.

“Y/n. I’m here for it all. Through your good and bad. I’ll always be here to help you get through anything. I love you.” He said kissing you softly.

Although Minho could be bad at telling you how he felt or expressing his emotions sometimes. In serious matters like this it was if everything just flowed so easily out of him. He knew you needed comfort and even if he was ‘bad at it’ in his words. He was always there.

“It should be here soon, you wanna watch your favorite movie while we eat?” He said with a gentle voice. You nod leaning into him fully “yes please”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[waitimcomingtoo]

You Never Called It What It Was

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!reader

Synopsis: you and Peter are friends with benefits who never admit your true feelings for each other until Peter gets hurt on a mission

Masterlist

“What are you working on?”

You smiled when you heard Peters voice behind you but didn’t take your attention off the paper open on your laptop. You liked to play hard to get, and he liked to play until he got you.

“School work. Remember that?” You teased him.

“I remember. I just chose not to do it until it’s absolutely necessary.“ Peter shrugged and put his hands on either of your shoulders. He started to lazily rub his thumbs into your neck and you knew what he was looking for.

“That attitude is why you’re number two in the class.”

“Oh yeah? And who’s number one? Remind me.” Peter asked as he spun your swivel chair around to face him.

“That’d be me.” You smiled coyly. Peter returned the smile before leaning in for a long and slow kiss.

“Are you really gonna spend your Friday night doing homework? Because I can think of a hundred other fun things we could he doing right now.” He said once he pulled away.

“Oh really? Like what?

“Why tell you when I could just show you?” Peter asked before kissing you again. You shut your laptop without breaking the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Your room or mine?” He asked against your lips.

“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”

“I don’t know. When’s the last time you slept over?”

“Gross.” You laughed. “Meet me in my room in ten.”

You didn’t exactly when your friendship with Peter turned into a little more. Living in the tower together made it inevitable that you’d end up falling for each other, especially after all the late nights you would spend up and talking to the other. It was so routine for you to spend the night in each others rooms that you could hardly remember a time when you didn’t. And despite the fact that you both told yourselves you were content with being friends with benefits, you couldn’t help but want more each time you hooked up.

A few nights later, Peter knocked on your door and pushed it open slightly, finding you in your bed with a book resting on your knees.

“Hey, pretty lady.” He said as he knocked on your doorframe.

“When are you gonna get a real girlfriend and stop bothering me?” You teased him and shut your book.

“When you admit your feels for me and run away together as lovers.” He shrugged, making you smile.

“I’m pretty sure we already are lovers.” You laughed and patted the spot beside you on your bed. Peter wasted no time in sitting next to you and moving hair off your forehead.

“Is that what you call it?” He asked. His tone was playful but his eyes looked genuine. He wanted it know what you were but you didn’t have an answer to give.

“I guess so. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything. But we’re definitely not just coworkers.”

“No. Course not.” Peter said through a laugh but you could tell it hurt him when you said you weren’t dating.

“We’re just…” You trailed off and shrugged.

“Friends?” He asked with a sad smile.

“Yeah. Who are really, really, extra friendly.” You smiled as you leaned in to connect your lips to his. Peter kissed you back and cupped your face to pull you closer to him. He gently laid you down on the bed and shot a web at the door to close and lock it.

“Do you treat any of your other friends like this?” He asked you between kisses.

“No. I save this all for you, P.”

“Good.” He smiled. “I want you all to myself.”

Cue PG-13 rom com level “morning after” shot where they’re tangled in the sheets and a soft song plays while they stare at each other.

“I should probably head back to my room.” Peter said, though that wasn’t what he wanted to do. Your eyes were shut and you were laying on his chest, tightening your grip when he suggested leaving.

“You don’t have to. If you’re tired, just go to sleep.” You said without opening your eyes. Peter looked down at you to see if you were serious but you were hardly awake.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t care.” You said through a yawn and held him tighter. Peter didn’t said anything and you got the feeling he wasn’t sure what he should do. You opened one eye and checked on him and sure enough, he looked as conflicted as ever.

“Yes. I do. I want you to stay.” You admitted. You felt Peter relax and lay his head back back on the pillow. He slipped an arm around you and held you close while resting his cheek on your head.

“Thanks. I wanted to stay.” He said softly.

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” He said and you could tell he was smiling.

“Goodnight, P.”

After a day where Peter didn’t see or hear from you, he was pleasantly surprised to see you in his doorway once the sun had set.

“Hey.” You smiled and waved to him.

“Hey. Come here.” He sat up and motioned you to come closer. You smiled and went to his bed to crawl into his lap. You straddled his hips by sliding your legs under his propped up arms and kissed him hello before settling into his arms.

“Missed you. I haven’t seen you all day.” He playfully whined as he toyed with your hair.

“I know. I was at the beach with my friends.”

“Was it fun?”

“Yeah. It was weird though.”

“Weird? Why?”

“When I was with them, I kept turning to my left thinking you were there.” You laughed shyly as you sat up to look at him. Peter scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“What?” Peter laughed too. “Did you forget I didn’t go?”

“No.” You shrugged. “I just found myself missing you. I wanted you to be there.”

Peter couldn’t hide the blush that painted his face when he heard that you missed him. He missed you all the time when you weren’t around, so it was nice to hear the feeling was being reciprocated.

“You can invite me next time. Then you won’t have to miss me.” Peter said with a shy smile.

“You wouldn’t want to hang out with my friends.” You laughed and shook your head.

“Yes I would. If you like them, I’d probably like them too. They’re an extension of you and I…like you.” He stumbled over his words and squeezed his eyes shut when he realized what he had said.

“Maybe I will invite you then. They’ve been dying to meet you.”

“So you talk about me to them, huh?” He smiled cheekily.

“Of course I do. I tell them about everything that’s ever happened to me.” You said causally. Peters smile faltered a little and you realized you accidentally made it seem like Peter was just another little meaningless detail of your life.

“Plus, they’re all jealous that I’m living with the guy I’m sleeping with and therefore get some every single night.” You added, making him smile again. But this smile was different. It was sadder this time.

“Is that what you refer to me as around them? The guy you’re sleeping with?” He joked but felt disappointed.

“No. I call you Peter.” You said simply.

“Oh. Good. That’s better.” Peter relaxed again and drummed his fingertips on your waistband.

“Why? What do you call me?” You wondered.

“I never know what to call you. I usually just end up referring to you as my girl.” Peter shyly admitted.

“I don’t hate that.” You shrugged, making Peter smile hopefully.

“You don’t?”

“No. I actually think it’s cute. It’s not as constricting as “girlfriend” but still lets people know I hold a special place.” You said and cupped his face just to get a better look at his. His hair was messy and his face was flushed

“Well, good.” Peter blushed under your touch. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll keep calling you that, then.”

“Good.” You felt your face heat up too as you looked at him. His expression changed from playful to serious as he tilted his chin up to kiss you. He kissed you long and slow, just because he wanted to kiss you. He didn’t expect anything from you tonight. He just wanted to be around you.

“Do you want to watch a movie? I was just gonna put on Grown Ups 2.” He said once he pulled away.

“But I’ve never seen the first one.” You said as you laughed at his choice of movie.

“You don’t need to.” He waved his hand. “All you need to know is that they’re grown ups and this is the second time they’ve done that.”

“Sounds perfect.” You laughed again and slid off his lap so that you could lay beside him in the bed. You snuggled into his side while he played the movie on his laptop.

You woke up the next morning in Peters arms. That wasn’t unusual for you, but something felt different about this particular morning. You sat up and rubbed your tired eyes before looking at his floor. The string of discarded clothing that usual dawned his floor the night after you slept over wasn’t there since all of your clothes were still on. You looked down at Peter and felt a sinking feeling in your chest. He stirred awake and slowly opened his eyes just as you were coming to terms with it all.

“Hey. Good morning.” Peter said through a yawn while he rubbed your back.

“We didn’t hook up last night.” You said, mostly to yourself.

“Yeah, no. We just watched the movie and fell asleep.” Peter shrugged and tried to pull you back down to cuddle. You pulled away from him and quickly got out of the bed.

“I should go. I didn’t mean to sleep over. Sorry.” You said as you backed up towards his door.

“I don’t care.” Peter laughed like it was silly. “You can sleep over whenever you want. You know that.”

“I know. But we’ve never just had a sleepover before.” You said and held yourself tightly. Peter could sense that you were freaking out about something so he got out the bed and put his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. It doesn’t mean anything.” He assured you. You relaxed when Peter said that, which broke his heart. It did mean something to him, a lot actually. But you seemed like you didn’t want it to mean anything, so he pretended he felt the same.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen where the rest of the team was and went straight to where Peter was sitting. You’d relaxed about the night before and tried not to think about it anymore. You put your feet into his lap and stole a piece of toast off his plate while the other Avengers watched you.

“So are you guys dating now or what?” Tony asked casually as he popped a grape in his mouth.

“What? No.” You answered immediately. Peters head snapped to you when he heard how quick you answered and felt his heart sink.

“Yeah. No.” Peter nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. Tony gave Peter a look that said he didn’t believe Peter for a second.

“Really? Because I’m not sure if you know the definition of dating or not, but you’re following it exactly.” Tony said sarcastically.

“It’s just sex.” You shrugged, making Peter feel even worse.

“Is it? Because I’ve seen you doing plenty of non-sexual romantic activities together.” Natasha added in.

“So what? That doesn’t mean we’re dating. It comes with the package of being friends with benefits.” You replied all too quickly for Peters liking.

“I never really understood the whole “with benefits” things. If you like someone’s company enough to consider them a friend and also trust them with your body and desire them in a non-platonic way, why not just date? What’s the point of you two sleeping together every night and cuddling on the couch if you’re not gonna admit you’re in a relationship?” Pepper added in her thoughts.

“Because we’re not in a relationship.” You said definitively. “We’re friends who like to get a little extra friendly. That doesn’t mean I want to be anybody’s girlfriend.”

“Your generation is so weird. You literally are his girlfriend. Why can’t you just call it what it is?” Tony asked you.

“Because we’re not dating.” You laughed in annoyance. “And I don’t want to be dating. I just want to hook up. It’s really just that simple.”

“Yeah. It’s simple. It’s not complicated or confusing at all.” Peter added. He’d been silent for so long that you had forgotten he was there. You felt bad for getting so defensive without thinking of how it would make him feel.

“I don’t believe it. There is no way you two are doing what you’re doing and not catching feelings. You’re either lying to us right now, lying to each other, or lying to yourselves.” Tony replied. Peter looked at you to see how you felt about that, and you didn’t like it at all.

“This conversation is stupid. I’m disengaging.” You said as you got up and left the kitchen.

“It’s okay to want love.” Tony called after you.

“Disengaged.” You shouted back. Once you were gone, everyone looked at Peter tinder his reaction. It was very obvious to the room that he felt the exact opposite to what you said.

“I’m in love with-“ Peter began.

“We know.” They all said in unison.

That night, you were determined to put some space between you and Peter. So when he came and found you on the balcony, you kept your plan at the front of your mind and prepared to say no to any and all of his advances.

“Hey.” He said as he sat beside you.

“Hey.” You said without looking up from your laptop.

“Do you want to watch Grown Ups 1 and make out during the scary parts?”

“I’m not really in the mood tonight. Sorry, P.” You replied, already feeling guilty for how cold you were being.

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s all good.” Peter assured you. “Do you want to hang out at least?”

“I’m kinda busy tonight. Maybe some other time?” You asked and finally looked at him.

“Then can I just sit here and watch?” He asked in a soft voice as he sat on the edge of the desk.

“Watch me do homework?”

“I just want to be in your company.” He shrugged. You gulped and had to look away or else you’d cave in to those big brown eyes of his.

“Why?” You played dumb.

“I don’t know. Because I like to be around you.” He shrugged and felt his face heat up. You knew he was expecting the girl who said she missed him when he wasn’t around, but you couldn’t be that girl anymore. You had to set some boundaries before you ended up in a relationship.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’ve done enough work today.” You said and shut your laptop.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. I’m tired too. I’ll walk you to your room.” Peter said and followed you to your room. You turned to face him once you were in your doorway and felt a new sense of awkwardness between you.

“Well, goodnight.” You said and did finger guns at him.

“Goodnight.” He said and slipped an arm around your waist. He kissed your cheek and you felt yourself tear up at the kind gesture. He was being so good to you and you were being so cold. He turned to leave and you felt your heart following him out the door.

“Peter, wait.”

“Yes?” He stopped immediately and came back.

“Did you want to sleep here?” You asked and pointed to your bed over your shoulder.

“No. That’s okay. I can tell you want to be alone.” Peter said with no self pity in his voice. He was just reading your cues and for some reason, that made you feel even worse.

“And I can tell you don’t want to be. You can stay. We can be alone together.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled and went into your room. He climbed into your bed and you got in after him. You held him and let him be the little spoon to make up for being mean to him. It didn’t take long for Peter to fall asleep but you didn’t have the same luck. Your mind was racing with too many thoughts as you tried to figure out how your plan to put some distance between you and Peter ended up with him in your arms. The more you thought about why you couldn’t just reject him like he was any other boy, the more the answer became clear.

“Oh fuck.” You whispered. “I love him.”

Now that you knew you had fallen for Peter, you had to end things. You couldn’t keep sleeping with him now that you knew you wanted more. So when Peter woke up the next morning, you were already gone. He frowned in confusion and went into the kitchen to find you.

“Has anyone seen Y/n?” Peter asked the team.

“Your girlfriend is off on a run.” Tony said without looking up from his magazine.

“Without me?” Peter wondered out loud and walked out of the room. He walked back in a few seconds later with his finger in the air.

“And she’s not my-“

“We know.” Tony groaned and waved Peter away.

Peter hung around in the foyer until finally, you came through the door. You gave him a quick smile and went to walk past him without saying anything.

“Hey. I was looking for you.” Peter said as he put his hand on your stomach to physically stop you. He looked so different now that you knew you were in love with him. Someone you once considered your best friend now felt impossible to talk to.

“You found me. Bye.” You quickly dismissed yourself but Peter caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back.

“Wait. I didn’t expect you to be gone this morning when I woke up.” He said quietly so no one could overhear.

“I had to leave early. I wanted to run to clear my head.”

“You should’ve woken me up. I would’ve come with you.” Peter told you. You folded your lips into a tight line and he immediately read your mind.

“Unless you wanted to clear your head of me.” He realized as he added up all your recent behavior.

“Look, Peter, it’s nothing personal.” You sighed. “I’ve been thinking about it for a minute and last night confirmed it for me. I don’t I want to hook up with you anymore.”

“Oh.” Peter blinked a few times in shock. “Okay. Woah. Um, did I do something wrong?”

“No. I just think we should start seeing other people. I think it will be good for the both of us to branch out.” You lied. You couldn’t tell him how you really felt, so you had to bury your feelinsg under a bunch of lies.

“You want to see other guys?” He asked, sounded heartbroken at the thought.

“Maybe not right away. But I think you and I should go back to being just friends.”

“Are you sure I didn’t do anything? If I said something stupid in my sleep last night that offended you or something I’m really sorry. I get weird dreams if I eat too late.”

“It’s not that. It’s not anything. I just don’t want to hook up with you anymore.” You shrugged and struggled to maintain eye contact with him knowing you were lying through your teeth and hurting him in the process.

“Is that all we were doing?” He asked, making you freeze. That was never all you were doing. It was just all you would admit to.

“Yes.” You said after a long beat of silence. Peter stared at you for a long time to give you a chance to take that back and admit you meant more to each other then just a fling. But you didn’t have the courage to do it, so he just ended up disappointed.

“Okay. If that’s your decision-“

“It is.” You said quickly, wanting to leave before you started to cry.

“Okay.” He nodded and gave you a tight smile. He put his hand on your arm as if he was going to lean in and kiss you, but then settled for a soft punch on the arm instead. He walked away from you and you felt your heart shatter.

You were all called in on mission the next day that required you to take the jet. You got there first and bounced your leg as you waited for Peter. He didn’t come by your room the night before which you expected, but still felt disappointed over. Peter finally walked on to the jet and looked around for an empty seat. There was one right next to you, which you patted to let him know he could sit there. He looked at it for a second before going to sit somewhere else. You blinked a few times in confusion before getting up to go sit next to him.

“There was a spot next to me.” You whispered to him as everyone else buckled up.

“I know.” He said without looking at you. You stared at him for a while and tried to read his face but he was turned away.

“We always sit next to each other.” You said quietly.

“I guess I just don’t want to do that anymore. I want to sit next to other people.”” He replied. You knew he was referencing what you had said to him about seeing other people and sighed.

“I thought we were going to being normal.” You whispered. Peter looked down at his lap for a minute before looking at you.

“I don’t know if I can just switch back to being normal.”

“Why not? It was just-“

“I know.” He cut you off. “Just sex. Just a fling. Just a meaningless hook up that ended once I left your bed. Trust me. I know how you feel.”

“P-“

“I gotta go.” Peter got up again and went to go sit somewhere else. You looked up and could see Tony looking at you with a displeased look. You sighed and shrunk down in your seat, not talking to anyone else as the jet took off. You couldn’t even accuse Peter of being a baby over you not wanting to sleep together anymore because you knew it wasn’t about that. It was about you acting like your relationship wasn’t what it was.

The mission went smoothly from your part and you completed your jobs with ease. You circled back to find the rest of the team but when you got there, you found everyone but Peter.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked. Everyone avoided eye contact with you and a pit grew in your stomach.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked again and pushed on the person closest to you.

“He’s in the next room.” Steve answered you without looking in your eyes. You pushed past everyone and ran onto the next room to go find him. When you got inside, you found Peter on the floor in a pool of blood. Tony was using his suit to try and repair a hole in Peters side.

“What happened?” You asked as you dropped to your knees at Peters side.

“Who me? Oh, nothing. I’m fine.” Peter smiled weakly waved his hand.

“Fine? You have a bullet hole in your side.” You exclaimed and took his hand to let him know you were there.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Peter lied before coughing up some blood. Everyone piled into the room to see Peter and you could hear them winced and murmuring at the sight of him. He was bleeding out quickly and Tony’s nanite spray wasn’t enough to stop it.

“We need to get him to the jet.” You said to Tony, who was looking at Peter in despair.

“The jet? We need to get him to the morgue.” Sam mumbled. You grabbed a random rock and threw it at him.

“Shut up!” You screamed as panicked tears fell down your face.

“I was just kidding. Damn. She threw a rock at me.” Sam mumbled and kicked the rock.

“He’s really hurt. We have to get him to the jet.” You said and went to scoop Peter up.

“This is gonna hurt.” Tony warned him.

“A little or a lottle?” Peter winced.

“Lottle, kid.” Tony said apologetically.

“Oh. Joy.” Peter groaned as you picked him up. You ran with him onto the jet. You laid him down on the table while Tony got out the medical supplies on hand.

“I don’t have any Novocain. Can you distract him while I fix this?” Tony whispered to you and held up the needle he had to use to stitch Peter up.

“Distract him how?” You asked.

“I don’t know. He’s your guy. Talk to him.” Tony hissed at you and gave you a stern look. You backed down and nodded your head to show him you understood that it was time to grow up. Peter was your guy and it was time to admit that. You slipped your hand into his again and knelt down to be close to his face.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t want to talk to me.” Peter smiled while tears slipped down his face.

“Yes I do. I always want to talk to you.”

“But you haven’t lately. I didn’t think you wanted to be friends anymore.”

“Peter-“

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to be my friend. I just miss you. Thanks for holding my hand.”

“I need to tell you something, P.” You sighed and brushed the hair off his face. Peter was struggling to fight the pain of being stitched up but still gave you his full attention.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry I never explained why and just let you think you did something wrong. The truth is, I pushed you away because I was scared that our relationship was turning into more than just friends with benefits. I didn’t know how to handle the fact that this wasn’t just a fling anymore.”

“You never called it what it was.” Peter croaked out. “When the team was saying you were my girlfriend, you seemed angry that anyone could ever think that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I just got defensive because I was still trying to repress my feelings. I’m sorry I said all those things. I didn’t mean them.”

“What did you mean?” Peter asked quietly. Everyone was leaning in to listen but you pretended not to notice. You looked up at Tony and he nodded to tell you the time was now. You nodded back before looked down at Peter again.

“I love hooking up with you but I also love talking to you and hearing your opinions on things and the way you interpreted a song lyric or a movie scene. I love showing you shows I love and waiting to see which parts you find funny so I can laugh too. I love seeing your reaction to my stories and hearing about your day, even when you didn’t do anything exciting. I listening to the music you had in your iPod as a little kid and hearing what songs you could never forget the lyrics to, even if you tried. And if I love all those things, I guess I just love you. I freaked out when I realized that and thought if I stayed away from you, those feelings would go away. But they didn’t. I love you still.“ You told him. Everyone exchanged looks but held their tongues as your confession was heard through the jet. Peter broke into a smile that sent pain through his entire body.

“Normally this would be the part where I heroically kiss you and everyone claps, but I’m numb below my neck and about to pass out. So can you kiss me?“ Peter requested, making you smile until you saw the blood streaming from his lip and nose.

“You’re like…bleeding out of your nose and mouth.” You said with a smile so he didn’t know you were grossed out.

“Can you do it anyway? Please?” Peter asked and coughed up some more blood. You couldn’t say no to those eyes so you bent down and kissed him for a long time. When you pulled away, you gagged at the taste of blood in your mouth and Peter grimaced at the sight of his blood on your face.

“That’s gross. You were right. We should’ve waited.” Peter laughed and started coughing again.

“We’ll try it again when you’re cleaned up.” You assured him.

“Good.” He smiled. “But I’m gonna pass out now. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

Peter did in fact see you when he woke up. You had all made it back on the jet and rushed Peter to extensive care. By the time he woke up, he was healing nicely and all cleaned up. More importantly, you were right there in the doorway watching the doctor dress his wound. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you, then saw the doctor. He was about to ask him to leave to give you and him some privacy to talk about what you had said on the jet, but you beat him to it. You touched the doctors arm as you sat down on Peters hospital bed and held his hand.

“Excuse us, doc.” You smiled politely. “Thank you so much for the help. But I need a minute alone with my boyfriend.”

Tag List 🏷️

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@tom-hollands-wifey @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning

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@heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[webslingingslasher]

Hey, you can do something like peter x fem!reader are dating could be fluff or smutt or both, i don't care love your writing <3

w: period/blood talk, small mention of suicidal thoughts but nothing explicit!

It’s been a good run. 

You and Peter had a great year and a half relationship, it sucks you won’t make it until the second year. It was close too, you were actually in a year and an eight month relationship.

Or, you used to be. Not anymore, the only way this ends is with getting dumped or ending your life. You’ve been eyeballing the bathtub for half an hour thinking about the best way to waterboard yourself. 

It was all Peter’s fault. 

He’s easier to blame right now because he’s passed out in snooze town, blissfully unaware of the hazardous waste material seeping into his bedsheets. It was a surprise, you weren’t supposed to get your period yet. Although that is a risk you take when you switch birth control pills, and that makes this your boyfriend's fault. Because if he wasn’t so delicious and tempting you wouldn’t need birth control, or to change them and therefore would’ve never bled on his sheets. 

Oh god. 

You bled on his sheets. 

You’ve been blinking back tears since you discovered it. It was a jumpstart, you thought you really had to pee but felt an uncomfortable slick. You know what it was, you prayed you caught it in time, you failed. It was soaked into his sheets, dots on the comforter and it soiled your pajama pants, let alone your underwear. 

You choked back a heavy breath and blankly stepped to the bathroom where you were stuck with no clothes, you settled for resting a pad in your underwear until you gathered the balls to wake your boyfriend and have him throw his disgust in your face. 

Peter’s never been mean or shy about your period, but it’s another thing to be woken up by it. Especially if your girlfriend cuddled you and left a stain on the side of your white shirt. 

Your lower lip wobbles, you hold a hand over your mouth to help stop the sobs. 

Your head whipped to the bathroom door when you heard three light taps, “baby?” 

You played silent, it was dumb. He knows you’re in here and he knows you’re awake and he knows you’ve ruined his bedsheets and shirt. 

“You okay?” His tone is gentle, he can empathize how embarrassing this is for you. He doesn’t mind one bit, he just wants to know you’re okay and not thinking he’s upset. 

“Yeah.” A squeak, he pursed his lips on the other side. 

“Need anything to wear?” 

And that did it for you. 

You sob hard, in an instant Peter wriggles the doorknob, you shriek out to him, you don’t care if May’s sleeping, you have to keep him out. 

“No! No, no, no! Don’t come in.” 

His heart hurts, “what can I do?” 

Silence, he hears muffled cries. Peter tries to think if the situations were reversed and tries one last time. 

A knock just as gentle the first time rings your ears, you listen but don’t think you’ll be able to respond. 

“Hey, trouble. I’m gonna wash the sheets, alright? I’ll bring you some clothes and you can take a shower, sound good?” You bite your lip and nod, then speak out. “Sounds good.” 

When you were in the middle of shampooing you heard the bathroom door crack open and you could see your boyfriend's figure on the outside of the curtain. He set down fresh towels on the counter and added a stack of clean clothes, before leaving. 

It was when you were drying off your body when you noticed he took your dirty clothes too to wash them, it made you feel shy. You didn’t want to face him again. 

—---------------------

Peter was back in bed, new sheets atop his mattress. His right arm cocked behind his head lifted him up as he watched something on his laptop. His eyes skirted up when you floated into his peripheral and met you with a warm smile, it made you feel worse. 

You shuffled towards his bed, scared to get back in it. 

“Wanna watch a movie or go back to bed?” 

You woke him up. You woke him up with blood and drama and grossness, he should be disgusted with you. He even changed his shirt, he knows you got it all over him like some sick demon. 

“Movie.” 

Peter counted ten minutes and you were stiff as a board in bed and hadn’t said a word, let alone look at him. He’s your boyfriend for christ's sake, if you were too scared to talk to him about this then he thinks he’s failing. 

He pushed the laptop further down the middle of the bed and shuffled right into you, his arms wrapped around your head and he pressed a kiss to the crown. 

“‘M not mad, or upset, or grossed out or anything. I am sad you’re sad and scared to look at me.” 

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” 

You were vulnerable but he still laughed, he didn’t mean to, it just came out. 

“Why would I be?” 

He placed another kiss, “I mean, tell me. Did you know it was coming?” 

“No.” 

“Did you hold it in until you reached my bed?” 

“No.” 

“Was it an accident?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah. We don’t get mad at accidents, they’re accidents for a reason, trouble. No one plans ‘em.” 

Your words bubble out, “but it’s gross!” 

Another laugh, he wriggles his cheek against the top of your head. “To who? Not me, I know you’re not talking to me. Because if I remember correctly there's been more than a few times period sex has come up.” 

You grip his arms, “but you’re prepared then, you were ambushed when you woke up.” 

“Babe, it was like a dollar quarter’s worth of blood, I’ve gotten worse papercuts.” 

You sniffle, “you mean it?” 

A kiss to your hairline, “that’d be a really, really dumb dealbreaker.” 

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Tall Tales | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: mentions of smut, canon gore, canon violence

Word Count: 3986

A/N: This episode was a challenge to write, but so much effing fun. I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

(he's so sexy in this gif i'm nutting goodbye goodnight i'm gone)

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Dean refused to let you hunt for the next two weeks following your concussion. You were pissed off, but you knew it was for the best. When the brothers settled on a case, they stuck you in a motel room and would occasionally come check on you between hunting. They found something at a college in Tennessee, and that was about all they told you before putting you to bed for the next week. 

When Sam would come check on you early on, it was to make sure you had enough water or food in your mini fridge. He’d always bring a book with him to sit with you while you rested. When you could finally tolerate the sound of other people’s voices again without going cross-eyed, you got him to read it to you. 

He snorted. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?” 

You deadpanned at him. “Yes, asshole. Please?”

“Okay,” he laughed. The book was called The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt, and you were completely fascinated. Sam’s voice would often soothe you to sleep as he recounted bits of Egypt’s history to you.

Between Sam’s visits and hours spent staring at the ceiling or pacing, Dean would visit. Most often, he’d come to your room at night. Not for any sexual purposes; in fact, when you suggested you have sex, he was fervently against it.

“Why?” you’d asked. 

“ ‘Cause you’re still hurt,” he replied simply, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. “And…”

“And?” you prompted, tilting your head up at him.

“I just wanna be with you right now,” he admitted quietly. 

You smiled against Dean’s neck, nuzzling into him.

***

Sam was clearly pissed off with Dean the next time he came to visit you. 

“What’s goin’ on?” you’d asked.

He sighed, “Just Dean being… Dean. “ He sat at the foot of your bed as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. “How’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet,” you smirked. 

Sam made a bitch face at you. “Really? Elvira?”

“Of course. I love her,” you giggled.

“Seriously. How is it?” 

You shrugged. “Same ol’ same ol’. I’ll live. How’s your, uh, mental state?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that.” Sam shook his head. 

“C’mon, you can tell me anything. What’s goin’ on?” you questioned, scooching closer to him. 

The brunet seemed thoughtful for a minute. “I, uh, don’t really know.” He chuckled awkwardly. “I’m really gettin’ worried, (Y/N). After Wandall and what I did to Jo—”

You cut him off. “Sam, that wasn’t you. We’ve been over this—”

“Yeah, but still. It’s been really bothering me.” You replied, “Well, yeah, that’s to be expected. Meg took you for a hell of a ride.” You thought for a second about your words. “Gross.”

Sam laughed before becoming serious again. He seemed to be thinking deeply about how to talk to you. “I’m really worried about what’s happening to me. Especially since…”

“Since what?” you prompted.

“Since you wouldn’t shoot.” You dropped your head back, sighing. “Sam, we’ve been over this. If you really go dark side, I’ll do it. But it seemed like your conscious mind wasn’t doing those things. It seemed like psychosis, almost. I’m not gonna kill you over that.”

“Well, then, when does it end?” he argued. “Conscious or not, I killed someone. And you saw it happen. And you still wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, because I care about you, Sam. You’re my best friend. It’s gonna take a lot for me to gank you,” you scoffed.

He softened a bit and sighed. “I get it,” the brunet muttered. “I just… I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to it every day. And I don’t know how to stop it. And Dean’s freaked, but he won’t talk to me about it. I’m sick of him pretending that everything’s fine.”

“Well, you know how he is,” you reminded him. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Still.”

“I hate to tell you this,” you began, fiddling with the hem of the quilt on your lap, “but the more freaked out you are, the more susceptible you are to—” “To demonic possession,” he finished. “Yeah, I know.” “And if that’s what this ‘dark side’ thing is supposed to be, we gotta get you back under control,” you continued. 

Sam nodded pensively. A mischievous look crossed his face suddenly. “So, uh, how’s things with you and—?”

“Oh, god,” you groaned, flopping back on your head. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve seen the two of you. I’m not completely blind,” he chortled. “So, talk.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t— I just— with everything going on, I don’t wanna… go there, y’know?”

He made a face at you.

You chucked a pillow at him. “I’m not talking about our sex life, dipshit. I don’t wanna make him commit to me with everything happening. But, then again, we’re hunters. We’re never not gonna have tons of shit goin’ on.”

“I mean, do you want a relationship with him?” Sam asked.

“Eh, I don’t know,” you shrugged unconvincingly.

“Don’t lie.”

“Fine, I do.” Sam laughed.

“But I don’t want to want that, y’know?” You cringed at yourself. “God, I sound like a sixth grader with a crush.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam snorted. “But I’m happy for you guys. I want you guys to be happy.”

***

The next time Dean came to visit, he was carrying a case of beer. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you asked, throwing your journal aside.

“Alright, fine, I’ll leave,” he smirked, turning back to the door.

“No, no!” you said, bounding over to him. You spun him around and kissed him gently. “Stay.”

“Always,” he said against your lips.

***

Something you were beginning to learn about Dean was his love languages. You were big on psychology. Though you knew he wasn’t and would never let you pick his brain aloud, it was fun to do in your head. Given the way he redressed your head wound in the earlier days of your admittedly severe concussion, made you dinner, and did your laundry, you deduced he liked to give love through acts of service. 

However, he seemed to be hellbent on not receiving it in that way. He refused to let you redress the wound on his shoulder until the dressings Jo put on it were saturated in seeping fluid. 

“Dean, you’re gonna start growing a science experiment in there. Let me help you,” you’d said, more stating it than begging. 

“I’m fine, (Y/N). Seriously.”

You got your first aid box out of your duffel and threw over your shoulder, “This is not up for debate. Come here.” 

With a reluctant sigh, he did eventually listen to you. Given the beers he brought you, the crappy movies, the card games, and hours spent just in each other’s company, you figured his receiving love language was quality time. And you were more than happy to give that to him.

***

On day twelve, you were insistent you could spar with Dean again. He was insistent, however, that he wouldn't do it.

"Dean! C'mon, man! It doesn't even hurt anymore," you protested, putting your hair up in a ponytail.

"(Y/N), I'm not gonna risk hurting you—"

"Dean!" you warned. "I'm rusty. If I'm gonna help you guys with this hunt in two days, please, dude, I'm begging you."

"Fine," he grumbled. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

You smirked, preparing your fighting stance. He eyed you challengingly, his smirk encouraging you to rush him. You did so, and he easily dodged you. However, you had prepared for that scenario, and whipped your back leg around to hit him in the stomach while he dodged you.

Dean grunted, and you jumped back from him. You aimed a punch toward his jaw, which he blocked easily. Several more punches were thrown between the two of you before you got fed up.

"Stop holding back!" you pushed.

"I"m not," he argued unconvincingly, throwing a sloppy left hook at you.

"Your form is shit, you're barely out of breath, and you're mostly on the defensive," you replied. "Stop holding back. You won't break me."

"(Y/N)—"

"Dean," you cut him off. "Vamps aren't gonna hold back. Whatever we're dealing with isn't gonna hold back. I'm healed enough. Quit it."

He finally did listen, making you incredibly happy. Beating Dean Winchester in hand-to-hand combat was nearly impossible given the size and muscular advantage he had against you. However, your father had trained you well on how to use speed and endurance to your advantage.

You fought with Dean for quite a few rounds before he knocked you back into the dresser in your motel room, and you hit the back of your head on the corner.

"See? I told you that was gonna happen," he said angrily. Although, you knew he was more angry with himself than he was with you.

"I'm fine," you replied, standing and rubbing the back of your head. "Again."

"No," Dean asserted, turning away from you. He shrugged his jacket back on.

"Wha— Where are you going?" you questioned, becoming aggravated with his stubbornness. "I said I'm fine, Dean. Again."

"We're done for today, (Y/N)," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

You scoffed. "I hate it when you do this."

"Yeah, well," Dean said gruffly, "I hate it when you act like a stubborn brat. Why is it so wrong that I don't wanna hurt you?"

"Because I'm asking you to!" you argued. "Hurt me! Don't fucking go easy on me! I already gave you my reasons why you shouldn't! I'd rather you hurt me than whatever we're up against!"

"I get that, (Y/N), but you can't ask me to fucking do that," he responded, turning to face you. "I won't hurt you."

You sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Yeah. See you," he grumbled. Then, you heard the door slam shut behind him.

***

You knew your fight had been stupid. You sat by the door all day, anxiously awaiting Dean's return. Just when you were beginning to lose hope that he'd show, you heard a knock on the door.

"Hey," you said awkwardly, opening the door for him to come in.

"Hey," he replied.

"I'm sorry. I was being stupid. I wouldn't do that to you if you asked me," you told him, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'm sorry, too. I didn't wanna shut you out," he said, unable to meet your eyes.

You grabbed his hand, making him look up at you. "Hey, you know the only reason I asked you to do that was because I trust you so much, right?"

Dean nodded. "How's your head? I didn't hurt ya too bad, did I?"

You shook your head. "Can't even feel it," you smiled.

***

By day fourteen of concussion recovery, you were clawing at the walls; ready to hunt again. You strolled back into their room at nine in the morning that day to get a run-down of the case so you could get back to your job.

“Thank god you're here,” Dean exhaled, getting off the bed he was lounging on when you walked in.

You snorted. “What, two weeks without me and you can’t function?”

Dean scoffed. “No.” He paused. “Well, kinda.”

“What’s been happening? And… why couldn’t you tell me anything about the case before this moment?” you asked.

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d believe us,” Sam told you.

You sat in the chair across from him, crossing your arms. “Why not?”

“It's just, we've never seen anything like it—”

“Not even close,” Dean chimed in.

“Oh-kay, well, why don’t you start from the beginning?” You leaned back in your chair and crossed your slender legs, knowing this was going to be a long conversation.

Sam huffed, gearing up for his story. “So, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So we pretexted as reporters from the local paper—”

“Pretexted?” you cut Sam off. “Okay, professor.”

He made a bitchface at you. “Would ya let me talk?”

“Fine, fine. Keep going.”

“I found these two kids at a bar who had the professor for Ethics and Morality. Both of ‘em said there was nothing about this guy that would’ve suggested he’d jump— I mean, wife, kids, tenured— everything. And the girl— her name was Jen— said she didn’t think it was suicide,” Sam explained. “Apparently, there’s this urban legend from about thirty years ago about a girl having an affair with a professor. He broke it off, and she jumped out the window of room 669. Anybody who sees her dies.” Sam shot a look at Dean. “Dean was supposed to be talkin’ to other locals, figuring out if the urban legend was even real, but, he, uh, got distracted.”

You straightened in your seat, shooting a look at Dean. “Distracted how?”

“He was too busy slamming purple nurples to even string together a coherent sentence,” Sam scoffed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was not!” Dean protested. 

“What, so you never drank a purple nurple?”

“Yeah, maybe that, but I wasn’t wasted,” the older brother argued. “I just took a few shots with this classy chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories.”

You quirked a brow at Dean, jealousy beginning to burn in your chest.

“She was, uh, more interested in me than talking about ghost stories, but I cut her loose before the poor girl embarrassed herself,” Dean said.

“Ah, what a saint,” you cooed sarcastically.

Dean shot you a look. “And then Sam came over like, ‘Dean! What do you think you’re doing?’ He thought I was chattin’ her up instead of focusing on the case. Which, I wasn’t— thank you, Sam— everything was just blah, blah, blah, lecture, lecture, lecture,” Dean continued.

“Right! And that's how it really happened,” Sam scoffed.

Dean shrugged.

“Sam, did he make out with the chick or not?” you questioned.

Sam seemed taken aback. “Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? But no, he didn’t.”

The tension in your body released.

“And I don’t sound like that, Dean!” Sam turned back to his brother.

“That's what you sound like to me,” the older brother shrugged.

You flicked your gaze between the two of them. “What’s going on with you guys?”

“Nothing. No— it's nothing,” Sam sighed.

“No, come on. You're bickering like an old married couple,” you snickered.

Dean got up and moved over to the kitchenette behind you. “No, see, married couples can get divorced. Me and him, we're like, uh, Siamese twins.”

“It’s conjoined twins!” Sam immediately corrected him.

“See what I mean?” Dean kept his gaze on you and gestured to his brother.

“Look, it—” the brunet sighed again, “—we've just been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it.”

You nodded.

“So, anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime,” Sam continued. “We went and talked to the janitor, pretexting as electricians. He said he’d been workin’ there for six years, let us into the professors’ office, and told us he was the one who found the guy. He said the professor brought somebody up with him, and that was the thing to distract Dean from the nuts he was stuffing his face with.”

“Come on! I ate one, maybe two!” Dean protested.

“Just let me tell it, okay?” Sam shot back. “Anyway, janitor says the cops never found the girl the professor was with, and he didn’t even see her leave the room. But apparently, the professor brought girls up a lot. Maybe you missed that, Dean, since you were too busy snacking to focus on anything else.”

Dean glared at his brother.

“And get this?” Sam told you. “There is no room 669. And the professor’s office was clean of EMF. Next, we thought we should probably check the history of the building. Of course, I couldn’t do that, because my computer was frozen on bustyasianbeauties.com.” The younger brother spoke pointedly at Dean, who seemed dumbfounded, honestly. 

“Dude, I told you, I wasn’t on your laptop,” Dean grunted.

“Well, did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal chick?” you asked.

“No. History's clean,” Sam replied.

“Then it's not a haunting,” you stated.

“Maybe not. Tell you the truth, we're not really sure,” Dean replied.

“What do you mean, you're not sure?”

Sam spoke up again. “Well… it’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” You asked, feeling like you were pulling teeth.

“This next part, we, uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it's pretty fucking weird. Even for us,” Dean chuckled in disbelief. “Apparently, this guy got beamed up on his walk home. Right outside of Crawford Hall.”

“ ‘Beamed up’?” you questioned. “Like… Star Trek? Aliens?!”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

“Aliens,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah.”

“Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people,” you said.

“Hey, believe me. We know,” the older brother replied.

“I’ve been hunting my whole life and never found any evidence of real alien abduction,” you shook your head. “It’s all bullshit.”

“Yeah, that's what we thought. But… we figured we'd at least talk to the guy,” Sam said.

Dean picked up the story then. “Found the guy drinkin’ himself into oblivion. He thought we wouldn’t believe him. Honestly, I still don’t know if I do.”

Sam cut his older brother off. “He said he blacked out, and when he woke up, he was, um—”

“He got probed,” Dean chuckled. “Some alien made him their bitch. And apparently, they did it a lot.”

Sam snickered. “He said… He said they made him slow dance, too. I mean, what the hell?”

You scoffed. “You guys are exaggerating again, right?”

“No, not at all,” Sam responded.

“Then this kid’s just nuts,” you stated.

“We're not so sure,” Dean argued. “There was a— a scorch mark in the ground outside Crawford Hall. Perfect circle.”

“Had to have been made by some kinda jet engine,” Sam cut in. “There’s nothing else it could’ve been. Given the timing alone, I figured, there’s gotta be some kind of connection.”

“I still wasn’t completely convinced,” Dean added. “I mean, between the angry spirit and sexed-up ET? What the hell. But what could we do? So we just kept on digging. We talked to this guy in probe-guy’s frat. Sammy did his whole 'I’m here for you, you brave little soldier’ speech, gave the guy a hug— the whole thing made me nauseous—”

“I never said that!” Sam argued.

“You're always saying pansy stuff like that,” Dean rebutted. “Would you let me talk?”

Sam quieted down, still upset.

“Anyway, the guy tells us that probe-guy was a huge dick. Apparently, he was going probe-level-stuff to his pledges this semester. And that was the one connection I could make out— both the victims are dicks. Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed. And that was when Sam started flippin’ out about his laptop— which I didn’t touch, by the way!— and started insulting my food—”

“It's not food anymore, Dean!” Sam cut in. “It's Darwinism.”

“I like it!” Dean scoffed.

Sam kept going. “All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff!”

“And then he threatened my car, (Y/N),” Dean said. You knew he was serious, but his dramatics drew a laugh from you.

“Did you take his computer?” you questioned.

“Serves him right, but, no,” Dean replied.

Sam glared at Dean. “Well, I didn't lose it. 'Cause I don't lose things.”

“Oh, that's right, yeah, 'cause he's Mr. Perfect.”

You talked over them. “Okay, okay. Why don't you just tell me what happened next?”

Dean huffed. “There was one more victim.”

“Right. Now, we- we didn't see this one ourselves, either,” Sam began hesitantly. “We kind of put it together from the evidence. But this guy— He was, uh, he was a research scientist. Animal testing.”

“Yeah, you know, a dick,” Dean added. “Which fits the pattern. Cops didn't release the cause of death 'cause they had no clue what the cause was.”

“So, we checked it ourselves,” Sam chimed in.

“Yeah,” the older Winchester confirmed. “I’m tellin’ you, (Y/N), those remains were gnarly. Looked like somethin’ was chompin’ on him. Again, happened right outside Crawford Hall. Then, Sam found a belly scale. From an alligator.”

“Classic urban legend,” Sam broke in. “A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels.”

“This can’t get any weirder,” you shook your head.

“Then we tried callin’ Bobby—” Sam said, “since you were still down for the count. He was caught up in another case, though. So, we decided to search the sewer. We split up, each taking one end of campus.”

“Did you find anything?” you asked.

“Yeah, I found something, just not in the sewer,” Dean began, getting frustrated. “Sam fucked up my car. He let all the air out my tires. He’s gonna bend the rims!”

“Why would he do that?” you questioned.

“I don’t know! ‘Cause he thinks I screwed with his computer or something!” Dean responded angrily. 

“I told you, Dean, I didn’t go near your car,” Sam said. 

“And how do you even know it was him?” you asked.

“ ‘Cause I found his money clip by my car. I’m keepin’ it for reparations. For, uh, emotional trauma,” Dean snarked. “Then, he full-on tackles me trying to get it back.”

“Oh, come on, I did not tackle you—”

Dean cut Sam off. “Oh yeah? Then how’d we end up on the floor?”

“ ‘Cause you’re an idiot, that’s why!”

“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough,” you broke in. 

The two boys stared at you.

“You showed up about an hour after that,” Dean finished.

“I'm surprised at you two. I really am,” you sighed. “Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer.”

“But I—” Sam argued.

“Shh! Shh,” you scolded. “And, Dean, Sam did not touch your car.”

“Yeah!” the younger brother petulantly cried, staring at Dean.

“Sam,” you warned. “And if you two would’ve pulled your heads out of your asses for a second, you probably would’ve figured out what we’re dealin’ with.”

Sam looked confused and looked over at Dean.

The older Winchester shrugged. “I got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” Sam looked back at you.

“A trickster,” you announced.

Dean snapped his fingers triumphantly. “That's what I thought.”

“What?! No, you didn't,” Sam argued.

You snickered. “You guys were the biggest clue.”

“What do you mean?” The brunet quirked his head at you.

“These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing, and it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight,” you explained.

“The laptop,” Sam realized.

“The tires,” Dean immediately added.

“It knows you're onto him, and it's been playing you as a result,” you nodded.

“So, what is it, what- what, spirit, demon, what?” Dean asked.

“Well, more like demigods, really. There's Loki in Scandinavia, Anansi in West Africa; dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Make ‘em vanish just as quick,” you continued. “The victims fit the M.O., too. Tricksters target pricks, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor— deadly pranks, things like that.”

“(Y/N), what do these things look like?” Dean said, and you could tell he was realizing something.

“Lots of things, but human, mostly,” you shrugged.

Dean looked over at Sam. “And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?”

It took Sam a moment, and he frowned, but finally caught on. “The janitor.”

***

Sam and Dean decided they would stage a huge fight right where the trickster could see them discussing whether or not the janitor was your guy or not. As night began to fall, you were supposed to meet Sam outside Crawford Hall to help Dean confront the trickster because you knew he’d be looking for Dean after the two brothers separated.

You and Sam followed the slow, sexy eighties music down the hall to the auditorium, and you flanked both doors leading down into it. You stood at the top of the stairs, waiting to catch the trickster off-guard. You clutched your stake tightly as you took in the two women on a bed on the stage dressed in lingerie, looking at Dean like they were going to eat him alive. Anger bubbled in your chest at the thought.

“Look, man, I— I got to tell you, I dig your style, alright?” Dean told the trickster, who was seated in the audience with his back to you. Dean chuckled. “I do. I mean, the slow-dancing alien—”

“One of my personal favorites. Yeah,” the trickster said. You could hear the grin in his voice.

“But, uh, I can't let you go,” Dean told him.

“Too bad. Like I said, I like you. Sam was right. You shouldn't've come alone,” the trickster replied.

“Well, I'll agree with you there,” Dean said darkly.

You slammed the door shut behind you, as did Sam. 

“That fight you guys had outside— that was a trick?” the trickster asked.

Dean grinned.

The trickster hummed. “Hm. Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?”

A masked man with a chainsaw suddenly appeared near Sam and attacked him. You immediately ran to his aid, jumping on the back of the man and grabbing his arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Sam asked you over the roaring of the chainsaw.

“Probably, yeah!” you yelled. You wrapped your arms around the masked man’s neck, trying to close his airway. “Does this thing even have a windpipe? Can it even suffocate?”

Suddenly, you were flying down the steps of the auditorium.

“Ooh, that’s gotta hurt,” the janitor commented, chewing on a sandwich he was suddenly holding.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, getting up to charge him. 

One of the girls from the stage appeared before you suddenly, throwing you back down to the floor.

“Nice toss, gorgeous!” you heard the trickster cheer.

You reared back and kicked the woman squarely in the stomach, sending her stumbling back. You wrestled with her continuously, until suddenly, she disappeared from underneath you. You looked up to see Dean stabbing the trickster through the chest. 

“That’s my boy,” you smiled under your breath.

The trickster fell back into the seat behind him, dead.

Sam approached you and helped you off the ground. “You didn’t hit your head again, did you?”

“No, no,” you laughed. “I think I’m okay.”

Dean walked over to you and Sam. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam nodded.

“Well, I gotta say... he had style,” the older brother chuckled. You helped Dean up the steps, bearing the brunt of his weight given the many injuries he sustained.

“Alright, let's just get the hell out of dodge before somebody finds that body,” you said, putting Dean in the backseat of the car.

Sam ducked down into the front seat beside you, and you started the Impala.

“Look, Dean, um... I just want to say that I'm, uh— Um…” Sam couldn’t seem to muster an “I’m sorry.”

“Hey. Me too,” Dean nodded.

You snickered. “You guys are breaking my heart.”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” the boys groaned in unison. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[mintsturniolo]

good morning (m.s)

bf!matt sturniolo x f!reader

A/N: This is my first post

summary: you and the triplets have plans in the morning, but all Matt wants to do is stay in bed and cuddle.

Charli woke up to the sun coming through the blinds of her room. Her boyfriend Matt was curled up beside her with one arm limply resting across her waist. She smiled and reached for her phone to check the time. It was almost eight. They would need to be ready in a little bit. Charli gently moved Matt over so she could get up. “Mmmm,” Matt groaned, his eyes fluttering open.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Charli said, running her fingers through his hair. “I was just gonna get ready for today.”

Matt was quiet and Charli noticed that he had started to doze off again. “Stay with me,” he murmured, holding her tighter.

“You know I have to get ready. It takes me longer,” Charli replied.

The only response she got was Matt quietly snoring beside her. Charli stayed where she was, letting Matt sleep for a few more minutes as she looked through her phone. Matt was never this clingy. Not that she minded.

Charli heard Matt begin to wake up and glanced over at him. “Hey. We should get ready now,” she said softly.

Matt shrugged as he pulled her closer to him, brushing his lips against hers. “Baby, we’re gonna be late,” Charli laughed, kissing him back.

“Then we’ll be late,” Matt replied looking deep into her eyes.

Matt adjusted himself so that he was on top of Charli. His hair tickled Charli’s forehead as he continued to give her kisses. A grin formed on Charli’s face as she ran her fingers through his hair. “What’s gotten into you,” she asked.

Matt smiled down at her and pushed her hair out of her face. “I love you so much.”

Charli felt herself blush and gently pushed him off her. “Matty," she sighed, noticing he hadn't taken his eyes off her. "I love you too."

Matt laid there quietly while Charli showered and got dressed. She assumed he’d dozed off again. It was fine. She’d wake him up when Nick or Chris announced breakfast. Charli sat at the vanity at the far end of Matt’s room. He’d gotten one for her once she moved in. As Charli started working on her makeup she heard Matt start to wake up. “Baby,” he murmured, causing her to look up.

“What do you need?” Charli replied.

“Do we really have to go out today?” Matt asked, rolling onto his stomach.

Charli nodded as she searched for her mascara. “I know you’d rather not go to this event, but I promise you it’s going to be fun.”

“If you say so,” Matt replied as he got up and made his way into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Charli finished up her makeup and began cleaning up their room a little bit. She made the bed and began picking up some of the dirty laundry off the floor when she heard the shower turn off. Charli looked around the room, satisfied with how much better it had looked. She heard the bathroom door open and turned to see Matt walk out wearing his usual all black outfit with his favorite vest. He smiled as he looked at Charli. “What are you staring at?” Charli asked.

“You’re so beautiful,” Matt muttered as he got closer to her.

Charli was about to reply when Matt put a hand under chin, forcing her to look up at him. Matt lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers. Charli felt Matt’s hands move down her body, stopping at her waist as the kiss got more passionate. She gasped as one of Matt’s hands began to move down towards her thigh. Before anything could happen the door slammed open causing them to jump back from each other.

“Guys is breakfast time. We’re going to be late… oh gross,” Chris yelled entering the room. “It feels like I’m interrupting something.”

“No shit,” Matt muttered as he grabbed his car keys. “Maybe knock next time.”

“Whatever. Food’s ready,” Chris said and left the room.

Charli rolled her eyes as Matt put an arm around her. “I guess we should go.”

Matt nodded as they made their way out the door. Matt leaned close to Charli’s ear with a smirk. “We’ll pick up where we left off later,” he whispered.

@sturniolo04

[louloulemons-posts]

Feral Boy

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Just Eddie being his wonderful Munson self.

Word Count : 1.2k

Warnings : not proofread, cuteness, just eddie being a gross boy, kisses, swears, sexual innuendos, petnames (eddie calls reader baby/babe), just eddie being a cute goblin.

A/N : Guys! There’s now 800 of you! This is crazy, I can never thank you enough, I love you all so much 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie was strange to say the least. He really didn’t care what people thought of him, he was weird and he loved that. You loved that. However, you genuinely thought his weirdness and his ‘fuck it’ mentality would be the death of him.

These are some of those situations where Eddie was just being his wonderful Munson self.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Eddie come on!” you whined, tugging on the boys arm. “No I wanna try!” he argued.

“How many times, those aren’t for you to eat, stop!”

You and your boyfriend had decided to walk through the woods, just wandering. However, Eddie had seen a plant that he thought looked delicious.

“Eds it could be poisonous!”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“But what if it is?”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try!” He pulled out of your hold and ran to the bush.

Popping one of the leaves in his mouth he chewed, his face slowly changing. “How is it?” you teased.

“Tastes like dirt.”

“Who would’ve thought.”

“Yeah yeah okay, you were right.”

“What was that?”

“Oh stop being smug,” he rolled his eyes, pulling you towards him.

The boy attempted to kiss your mouth, but you turned your face, lips brushing on your cheek. “Hey!” he whined.

“I don’t want to taste the plant!”

“You’re horrible to me.”

“Tell you what Munson, you buy me a shake and I’ll kiss you.” Eddie huffed a laugh, pulling you by the hand and through the woods. “Better be the best kiss ever!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay on Eddies bed, you were resting your eyes, the day had been long and you were so ready to sleep. Waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower, you were lay half on the bed, your feet still on the ground.

You heard the door creak open, Eddies stomping footsteps moving across the room. You did once tell him he was bigfoots son.

“You comfy?”

“Mhm, it’s nice.”

“Baby,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Baby.”

“Eds what?”

“Baby.”

“Munson I swear to god,” you pushed up to be sat on the bed and looked at the boy. All of him, he threw his damp towel in your face.

Cackling to himself, he walked over, shaking his soaking curls all over you. “Eddie!” you squealed. You could feel his bare skin all over you, damp and sticky.

“Get off you big lump!” you couldn’t help but laugh as the boy rubbed his wet hair all over your face. “But it’s so comfy!”

“Jesus christ at least put some pants on!”

“What you don’t wanna see my-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll chop it off.”

“Fine fine,” giving you a wet kiss on your cheek he climbed off, giggling like a maniac.

“You are something else Edward Munson.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sat with your knees to your chest, bowl resting on them, as you munched on your cereal. You heard thumping coming from the other room, Eddie was finally awake.

You had tried to wake him up multiple times, however when that boy slept he was dead to the world. He came hoping down the hall, tugging his shoes on.

Running past you, he halted came back, kissed your head and said “Love you.”

“Wait,” you said, pulling on his shirt.

“Babe I’m gonna be late.”

“Just hang on,” you laughed, placing your cereal on the coffee table and standing up.

“Arms out,” you said.

“What? Baby, now is not the time for a quickie.”

“Your shirts backwards Munson,” you smiled, pecking his mouth, “Arms out.”

He chuckled, pulling his arms into his shirt, allowing you to turn it round, before he slid his arms back in.

“There you go.”

“Okay now I need to go.”

“No you don’t,” you said.

“It’s 9:00.”

“It’s 8:30, I put the clock back thirty minutes. So sit, eat.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” you grinned.

“Maybe we do have time.”

“Time for what?”

The boy smirked, tugging you into his arms and throwing you over his shoulder. He took your cereal bowl in the other hand, drinking the milk before dropping it in the sink and running to the bedroom.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You were walking down the hall, you’d had a free period so decided to swap your books in your locker for your next class. You’d almost made it when someone put their arms around your waist and dragged you backwards.

You screamed as you were lifted from the ground, the door being kicked closed. You began swinging your legs when a familiar voice came, “Chill! Baby it’s me.”

Eddie let go of you putting you down, “You are such an arsehole!” you smacked him with each word. “It was funny baby you have to admit.”

“You gave me a heart attack! You horrible boy.” He pouted at that, putting his hands on your face gently, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no puppy eyes. You really scared me.”

“Please forgive me,” he said, kissing your cheek softly. “It was real mean Eds.”

“I know I’m sorry,” he kept pecking your cheek, even going to your neck.

“Eds,” you sighed.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

“Horrible boy.”

“I know, but you love me.”

“I do.”

“Forgive me?”

“Of course.” You could feel his grin against your neck, “Don’t you dare.” It was too late, he blew a raspberry against your neck, leaving it covered with his saliva. “You’re so gross!”

“Oh am I?” he laughed, licking your cheek.

“Get off me you little goblin!” you squealed.

“Let me love you!”

“No!” you couldn’t help but laugh as you ran from him.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You were attempting to do homework, attempting being the key word here. It was near impossible to focus on something when Eddie was around, because of course he always wanted your attention.

You felt a light tug on your hair, “Stop,” you said. You felt his hand leave your hair, leaving you to read something in your text book and take notes, but soon enough another tug came. It was harder this time.

“Munson.”

“What?”

“Stop it.”

“‘m not doing anything.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

Another few minutes passed, then another tug, you slammed the book shut. “Okay I’ll bite you little demon, what do you want?” you turned to the boy, seeing him lay on the bed, smile on his lips.

“Cuddles.”

“I don’t think you deserve them honestly.”

“I do!” he whined.

“No.”

“Baby please, I just … I need some attention please,” he pouted.

“God it’s a good thing you’re cute.” A full grin broke out on his face as you put your textbook on the floor, laying down beside him.

“Can I have scritches please?” he whispered. You opened your arms and the boy moved quickly, one arm wrapping around your waist, face nuzzling into your neck, leaving soft kisses.

You hand tangled in his curls, gently scratching his head. The boy almost purred at the feeling, snuggling in closer. “I love you,” he said softly.

“I love you too silly boy.”

And it was true, although he was strange and weird and a freak or whatever else people called him, you loved him. More than anything.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[doc-pickles]

sick day | mat barzal

summary: Mat comes home from a roadie and takes care of his family

warnings: throwing up, so much fluff

a/n: y’all asked for dad Mat! enjoy this fluffy piece!

xoxo

nina

Mat was just coming off a four day roadie when you called. The plane had just touched down in New York and he’d turned his phone on only to find you calling.

“Hey baby, we just landed.”

“Mat don’t come home.”

Your words made Mat freeze, Tito looking at him in concern as his face dropped.

“W-what? Baby whatever it is we can-“

“No, no, no,” you rushed out as you realized what Mat thought. “No, god not like that. I’m sorry. We all have the stomach flu and I don’t want you getting sick. All three of us having been throwing up since yesterday morning.”

Mat let out a breath of relief as he leaned back into his seat, “I’m still coming home baby. If you’re all sick I want to take care of you.”

“But you have playoffs right around the corner and I-“

“I’ll see you soon,” Mat’s answer has you heaving a sigh, knowing that arguing with him would be useless. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

+

Half an hour later Mat walked through the front door just as your five year old son Luca puked into the bowl on his lap. You groaned as Rosie, your two year old, burrowed further into your chest with a pained moan. You met Mat’s eyes over their heads and sighed, “Welcome to the fun house.”

Mat dropped his bags by the door and toed his shoes off before going to help Luca. Once he was done throwing up Mat gathered him in his arms and took him upstairs for a bath. You and Rosie both dozed off, your shirt tightly clutched in her hands as she lightly snored.

When you woke up again Rosie was gone and Mat was just coming down the stairs. He smiled at you before he walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Both kids are bathed and sleeping. How are you feeling mama?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groaned as Mat pulled you into his lap. “Stop, I’m all sweaty and gross and I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I just wanna hold my wife,” Mat groaned as he pulled you closer. “I haven’t seen you in four days.”

You gave up your struggling and settled into Mat’s hold, “And I spent a lot of that time puking my guts out.”

“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll watch out for the kids,” you eyed Mat skeptically but he simply met you with an eye roll. “I can handle them babe. Go take care of yourself.”

You begrudgingly walked upstairs, but you couldn’t fight Mat’s thinking as the warm water of the bath soothed your aching muscles. You stayed in far longer than you should have but after getting out you felt a hundred times better.

When you finally trekked back downstairs Rosie was settled on Mat’s hip as he cleared the dishes in the sink. Luca was bundled up on the couch, so you went over to him and pulled him into your lap.

“How are your feeling bubba,” you pressed a kiss to his dark hair as he snuggled close to you. His forehead didn’t feel as warm as earlier so you took that as a win.

“‘m feeling better,” Luca mumbled as he held on tightly to you. “Daddy made toast and I didn’t frow it up.”

You looked up and Mat met your eye over both of your kids heads. He smirked and you swore your heart beat a little faster. You truly couldn’t imagine doing life with anyone but Mat.

The rest of the day went by easily. You all curled up on the couch to watch a movie, Rosie clinging to Mat and refusing to move. Not that Mat was complaining, his daughter tucked in his side as he ran his fingers through her dark curls.

When Luca mentioned that he was hungry Mat was up in an instant to make soup for everyone. Rosie still clung to his chest as he moved around the kitchen and told her everything he was doing. By the time everything was finished Rosie was asleep, arms still tightly wrapped around Mat’s neck.

“I’m gonna go put her down and then I’ll get you both some soup,” Mat leaned down to kiss Luca’s forehead then yours before he headed upstairs with Rosie.

The soup was the perfect thing for your still uneasy stomach. Luca even had a second bowl which made Mat beam with pride. The recipe was from his mom, something he had asked her for the first time Luca had come down with a bad cold. It was a tradition at this point to make it on sick days and you couldn’t complain.

When Luca began to drift off at the table Mat took him upstairs and put him to bed. You began tidying up the kitchen, carefully washing out dishes when Mat came back, “Let me finish cleaning babe.”

“But I-“

“You’re still sick. Go lay down, I’ll be up in a minute,” Mat pressed a kiss to your temple before pushing you towards the stairs with a playful swat to your butt.

You took time to do your nighttime routine, feeling better than you had in days. By the time Mat came upstairs you were tucked under the covers and half asleep.

“C’mere baby,” Mat whispered as he slid into bed, arms stretched out toward you. “I missed sleeping next to you.”

You gladly scooted across the bed and settled onto Mat’s chest, his hands slipping under your shirt to rub your back, “Thank you for taking care of us today.”

“That’s my job,” Mat mumbled into your hair. “I promised you in sickness and in health. Just trying to stay true to my vows.”

As you both drifted off to sleep you couldn’t help but think about how grateful you were to have Mat by your side.

[unfinishedslurs]

bedsharing (future stobin lavender marriage) (steddie)

“Why do you have tampons in your bathroom?” Eddie asks, toweling off his hair. “Wouldn’t your mom just keep them in hers?”

“They’re Robin’s.”

He can feel Eddie’s eyes on the back of his neck, and turns around from where he’s hastily folding his clothes. He has another towel wrapped around his hips, and Steve’s gaze drifts there before snapping back up to his face. 

“What?” He asks.

“I thought you guys weren’t together.”

Steve sighs. “Just because I have tampons for when she stays over—“

“It’s just—why wouldn’t they be in the guest bathroom?”

“She stays in my room,” he says, and then realizes how that sounds. “Okay, yeah, but we’re not dating. That’s never gonna happen.”

“So you’re just hooking up?”

Steve instinctively makes a face, and Eddie’s eyebrows jut up. “No. I’m not her type, and even if I was, at this point that ball has left the court. I don’t like her like that, she definitely doesn’t like me like that, and next time Henderson tries to convince someone we’re soulmates I’m going to wring his little neck.”

“I thought you said you were soulmates.”

“Yeah, but not like that.”

“Just enough that she sleeps in your bed and has tampons in your bathroom, apparently.” Eddie bends over to wrap his hair in the towel, and Steve spends a long moment staring at the curve of his bare spine. 

“Hey, man,” he says belatedly. “We got caught off guard one time. I’m not doing that again.”

Two loads of laundry, and Robin had cried in anger and embarrassment. Steve of ‘83 would have found it disgusting. Steve of now was a little grossed out, but also had been bled on in ways much worse than a period, so he just took her out to milkshakes and stocked up on enough supplies to last for a lifetime. After that, all bets were off when it came to the few boundaries they had left. 

Eddie grimaces in acknowledgment, grabbing the pair of sweatpants on the bed. Steve turns around before the towel drops, because years of locker room experience can’t possibly prepare him for seeing Eddie Munson’s naked ass. 

“So no dreams of a white wedding and gaggles of grandchildren running around?”

“I mean, we’ll probably get married at some point,” Steve says absently, fiddling with his bedspread to keep from turning around. He can have self control. He’s capable of not ogling his friends. “It’ll be safer that way.” Shit, why did he say that? He might as well hang a neon sign that says QUEER over his head. “Easier,” he corrects himself, knowing damn well it’s useless. 

There’s a thud and a groan, and Steve whirls around to see Eddie on the ground, halfway into his pants. 

“Are you okay?”

“So you’re not together, and you’re not hooking up, but you’ll get married?” Eddie demands from the floor, wiggling into his sweats. “And…what? Have a loveless, sexless marriage? Because it’s easy?”

“Just because the love isn’t romantic doesn’t mean our marriage would be loveless,” he protests, mind whirling with excuses he can’t use. Why did he open his big mouth? Why couldn’t he have just said anything else?

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” he shrugs, trying to get his heartbeat under control. “We’re already going to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well get some legal benefits out of it.”

“Sure, sure,” Eddie laughs, disbelieving. “Getting married for legal benefits and safety. Harrington, if I didn’t know better, I’d say this sounds like—“

“Sounds like what?” Steve cuts through what Eddie was about to say. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s a bone-deep certainty that Eddie will end up on the truth if he keeps talking. “Are you coming to bed or not, man?”

Eddie falls silent in the middle of standing up, dark eyes pinning Steve to the spot. He knows, Steve thinks, and tries not to picture what Robin would say if he got another concussion. He hasn’t confirmed anything, and Eddie seems like a good guy, maybe even their kind of guy, but if he’s wrong then he’d better grab Robin fast and get the hell out of dodge. Dustin might forgive him eventually, if he knew the reason why.

The silence is getting unbearable. 

“Yeah, alright,” Eddie finally shrugs. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I want the left side.”

“You asshole,” Steve hisses, pretending the relief in his chest isn’t damn near killing him. “You know that’s the side I sleep on.”

[rimunagenius]

(HC) Post Draft!Kate Martin

NSFW!!

You had no idea they were calling Kate’s name

you had hoped but when it happened you honestly couldn’t breathe

“With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, The Las Vegas Aces select, Kate Martin.” Tears.

Immediately had tears running down your face, hugging Kate.

Her grip on you tight but quick, her anxious to get through hugging everyone there supporting her, and to get up on the stage and accept the honor and reward that came with her hard work.

You recording her interview, crying with Jada, and Gabbie.

At the after party, taking pictures and celebrating, Kate was drunk on her happiness and high of being drafted, and the alcohol, that she wouldn’t stop touching you

holding your hand, rubbing her hand up and down your thigh, “i love you’s” leaving her mouth like a flowing river

it was like this for hours until you both decided to call it a night

you were so happy and equally as drunk, you sang her praises and welcomed the touch happily

“I’m so proud of you, baby” you whispered in her ear, unbelievably close to Kate

“Yeah? Wanna show me?” You placed you hand on her cheek, smiling.

Staring into her eyes

“I think i’m gonna call it a night, Kate?” You had to turned to Caitlin and your friends, and then asking Kate if she had been ready to go

“Yeah, i have interviews and pods tomorrow. Congrats Cait, i’m so proud of you, i love you guys.”

your goodbye along the same lines and the second you and Kate got into the uber it was game over

the poor uber driver watching two women make out like there was no tomorrow oh how i would’ve loved to be a fly on the wall :(

stumbling through the door of your hotel room, you and Kate had literally been eating eachothers faces that’s a gross description but trust…that’s what it looked like

“Oh, my god. You looked so hot holding that jersey, baby.” You whispered as you kissed down Kate’s neck, your thighs squeezing together at the thought

“m so proud of you.” you were already sliding her blazer off, kicking your shoes off and her doing the same

“yeah?” she sighed as she grabbed your face and kissed you, walking you back towards the bed

“mhm. my pretty girl.” you knew Kate had a thing for praise

lived for it. she wouldn’t admit it but god did she love when you told her how good she was doing and how pretty she looked doing it

her face turned a bright shade of red, igniting a hunger in her to please

and boy did she please

“your turn.” you flipped you guys over…you on top

Kate is def a bottom…changed my mind…you can’t! HA!

“I wasn’t don—“ You cut Kate off with a kiss

“What? You think my hot girlfriend is gonna be the only one giving the action? As much as I loved what you do with your hands, baby….you love what I do with my mouth..” You trailed kisses down her body, almost at your dream destination

“Oh, is that so?” She giggled, attempting to grab at your bare hips.

“Yeah it is. Want me to bring up last night when you cried?” your lips pressing soft kisses to her thighs

Her face turned pink, and her breath hitched. How could she forget the tears you brought to her face from the multiple orgasms?

You both were going at it all night. and i mean alllll nightttttt.

“Oh, my god. That was—“ You rolled into her side, your head resting on her chest.

“Yeah. It was.” Her arm pulling you closer.

“Holy shit. Is that daylight?” You looked across from you both, the blinds cracked.

“I think it is, sunshine.” Kate and you laughed but damn near cried at how you were going to get little to no sleep….damn her looking so hot while getting drafted

didn’t want to go too far into detail bc that’ll be spoiling a little part of my Kate Martin series ;)))

[alaskan-wallflower]

A scenario to put the Curtis bros in- they’re all sick at the same time, maybe even the whole gang if you’re feeling extra creative 😭

Ohhh boy-

It was definitely food poisoning. Soda cooked and didn’t wash his hands, nasty bastard (joking!!)

He also probably didn’t bother to cook the meat properly smh-he either got impatient and bored of waiting or distracted by smth and forgot to turn the oven off 😭

It started with him though because boy has a SENSITIVE fucking stomach and he just feels like shit and can’t sleep

It’s like in Parks and Rec when Ron, Ben and Chris all got food poisoning and they’re just sitting there and sweating

Pony can hear Soda’s stomach making the most god awful sounds and he’s like “oh you too?”

Pony just sits up and all he can do is burp up whatever is in his stomach-poor boy gets very burpy when he has a stomach ache

Eventually they’re both running to the bathroom to throw up and Darry’s already in here throwing up in the sink

Soda threw up in the tub 💀

Darry had to clean it all because Pony cannot stand looking at vomit and Soda couldn’t even stand up

They’re all just in the Curtis bedroom, huddled together and shivering. They aren’t even mad at Soda because they knew he was just trying his best

Darry is in the middle with his hand over his mouth to hold in any more vomit, but at that point he can just get up dry heaves and weak burps

He has to go out and buy Tums for everyone and they all just spend the day throwing up the gross stuff and burping up the icky shit

Soda loves to have his tummy rubbed and it helps him a lot when he’s sick with relaxing him

Pony does too but he’s not as whiny-they have Darry sit in the middle so he can just settle their stomachs 😭

Pony gets so grumpy he’s like “why does everything hurt? Darry I’m dying, what if I die? What flowers will you put on my grave?” and Darry is green in the face and he’s like “I don’t know, kiddo, just go to bes please”

when one of them throws up they all go down. They hear Darry retching in the bathroom and suddenly Soda is gagging and Pong is holding his hand over his mouth

The only reason Darry stays home is because he wants to take care of his brothers. He couldn’t give a shit less that he’s sick.

It makes him feel better when Pony and Soda are snuggling into him, even though he wants to keep them away from his stomach

They go into their parents room because it offers them comfort but as soon as one of them starts puking they retreat to Darry’s room because it’s bigger. They don’t wanna throw up in their parents room

Pony gets feverish nightmares so he’s constantly whining and mumbling in his sleep

Its honestly a mess 😭 Soda calls Steve over and Steve brings the rest of the gang-Johnny brought food from the job he worked at and Two Bit gave them stolen medicine

They’re more than grateful in the end

Until they get the whole gang sick

Lets be real they’re all piled in the living room

Johnny doesn’t mind but he does try to leave-Dallas literally drags him back and he does the same when Dallas tries to leave

They’re all so whiny

Steve and Soda are inseparable. Steve threw up on Soda once and Soda just deliriously looked over and went “bro……” with the sickest grin ever

Pony and Johnnysre the smallest so they’re curled up on one of the arm chairs

Johnny gets all shivery and is hurled up in a bunch of blankets-out of any sickness his least favorite is stomach bugs. He hates vomiting

Dally was gonna skip town once he heard the stomach bug was contagious but he threw up at his car and Darry dragged him inside 😭

Two Bit is delirious off his ass. He’s laughing about something and suddenly he’s violently puking and then laughing about it.

It’s awful when they’re all sick at once 😭😭

[beababoobies]

Hey, could you please do an angel dust x emo reader?

I am going to be using NB!reader for this but please do know I’m quite aware Angel is gay! He is canonically gay and I think that’s cool yippers ok lesgo 🙏🙏 by Emo I wasn’t sure exactly what you meant so I went with like an angry moody bitch with a 2000s MySpace Emo sort of aesthetic. If you want something diff feel free to re-request and specify! Thatz it :3 </3 (also Emo community please don’t attack me you guys are so cool I’m scared of you. I know corpse paint is gothic I swear please you guys are so cool).

Corpse Paint

Angel Dusk X Emo!NB!Reader

words : 1k , warning for mentions of sexual trauma!

You had been staying in this fucking hotel for months. Did it suck ass? Yes. Did you kind of maybe despise half the people here? Oh, absolutely. But - free place to crash, and it’s not like you were doing much with your days anyways, so the “rehabilitation” excersizes only got positivity-toxic half the time. Plus, Charlie let you skip out on them. Her little girlfriend didn’t though, so you were usually there dejectedly. Not anything worse than your highschool experience. 

But you also had Angel. Anthony. Whatever he let you call him depending on the day. And he was half the reason you stayed here. The amount of times you’ve crawled into bed with him and cried? You hadn’t cared to keep track of anymore. A long day, night - of shooting scenes, and you gently comforted him while he laid tiredly in bed, rubbing his back until he fell asleep. Plus, you liked his pig. You and fat nuggets would hangout whenever he was gone. 

You wouldn’t consider your relationship too romantic, but it was unbelievably supportive. You two didn’t really get intimate, due to his work, he didn’t trust anyone he was intimate with. He told you that that could change, but you reassured him over and over that it didn’t ever have to. You were happy gently comforting him. You were happy drinking with him, you were happy to be around him.

That didn’t mean he was completely touch-adverse, though. You exchanged small pecks on the cheeks, held hands - though not publicly, due to some of his fans obsessive behaviours - cuddled up. Charlie had offered to just let you guys share a room, but you had rejected the idea and shut it down pretty quickly. You loved each other very dearly, but sometimes you just needed space. 

Today wasn’t one of those days, though. You, head resting in his lap as he scrolled on his phone, your 2000s MySpace mix playing softly in the background as you looking through a new catalogue of Hell’s Most Edgy with a marker, circling anything you liked, Fat Nuggets sleeping soundly at Angel’s feet, snoring loudly. But adorably. 

“I have a favor to ask.” Angel mumbled out nervously. He hated asking for anything. Especially from someone he had already asked so much of. But you just nodded silently, circling a new, shiny pair of black platforms, before looking up at him with a small smile. “‘Sup, Webs?” You asked, tilting your head as you sat up properly.

“I - well, Val wants to do this shoot today, but he wants me to do Corpse paint. I don’t know how to do.. that. So I was wondering if you could help me out?” He asks with a nervous smile, only to watch the smile on your face grow wide, nodding excitedly as you hopped quickly off the bed to run to your room to get your makeup, disturbing a now cranky Fat Nuggets, who oinked at Angel before walking over to his bed to fall back to sleep. 

You came back into his room, closing the door quietly behind you, box of white cream foundation and a million sticks of eyeliner and other black makeup pencils, along with some dramatic statement lashes and lash glue, sitting down next to him on the bed on your knees, gesturing for him to sit up with his legs out straight. You straddled him softly, opening your box of makeup.

“So, this feels - kind of gross to put on. Gonna survive that?” You ask with a smile, tilting your head as he nodded with a small chuckle. “I’ve had much worse on my face.” He says with a wink and a smile. “I’ll survive.” He says with a shrug as you brush some of his fluff out of his face, starting to paint the thick white foundering over his pale pink fur, watching him awakward my try to avoid eye contact, hands awkwardly shifting, trying not to touch your thighs.

“You can put your hands on my thighs, it’s okay. I’m not going to initiate anything.” You say reassuringly and watch as one of his pairs of hands rest comfortably on your thighs, the other set holding up a mirror so he can see the work you’re doing. You watch him visibly relax slightly. He always is a little paranoid about people trying to be intimate with him - reasonably so - so you make sure to quietly reassure him in these moments. 

It takes a couple thick layers of the face paint to get his Angel stamp of approval, in which you go in with black eye-safe eyeliner for his eyes, coating them in black and following the image he used as reference, making streaks of black run from his eyes. You pierced your lips together as you leaned back to admire your work. “It’s missing something.” You mumble quietly, before peeking up and pulling out a pair of white lashes from your kit, and he smiles. You let him apply them himself, and with some white underliner, it looks perfect.

You give him some black lipstick, too, but that’s about the extent of what he wants. You give him your old lipstick too, because you and him both know he’s gonna need some re-applying. You watch as he walks over to the mirror, admiring your work - a job well done you’re sure - when he smiles at his reflection and the giddy way you smile back at him through your own reflection.

He pulls you up into a big hug and you giggle as he picks you up and spins you around, before you get him to put you down, smiling from ear to ear at how happy he looks with himself and the work you’ve done. His phone buzzes and he sighs, kissing you softly on the head before heading out, not even daring to put his famous sunglasses on and ruin your work. 

A new memory that’s keeping you sane in these old hotel walls.