#guys I found some karens

[wheelercore]

I don't trust things not being on the inspo board when Rosemary's Baby and Oedipus The King are straight up just not there despite the clear references

[haveihitanerve]

Gotham fucking loves Brucie Wayne

Some nice Brucie Wayne headcanons for you all

Hes an idiot and a dork but he makes social events interesting because who else would fall into the chocolate fountain?

At any social event where kids are invited as well he can most definitely be found with the kids, talking to them like they are adults

He never treats anyone as inferior unless they're dicks

He once punched riddler in the face because he interrupted a girls birthday party

He has an entire fashion line that is dedicated to giving people actually comfortable practical clothes

Hes an absolute unit in bed. For both men and women. (either top or bottom)

He once held a man upside down by his ankles and shook him until everything had fallen out of his pockets because he had used to be a bully and was now a dick

Can and will walk teenagers home if its late at night. 

Always tips very generously

He was once in line at a batburger and there was a karen yelling at the poor 16 year old cashier and he walked to the front and just started sticking 100 dollar bills into the tip jar with the nastiest smile aimed at the karen. ‘The more you yell the more i tip.’ (the cashier was, coincidently stephanie brown, and she high fived him)

He has a social media but never uses it unless its to draw awareness to a certain cause or to show off his children. 

He also posts beautiful pictures of gotham, or of mundane everyday things, showcasing the beauty in life

(Is canonically a feminist)

Will protect waiters/servers/janitors from creeps or gotham elite who think theyre better than them

He stopped adopting kids but still pays for as many college tuitions as he can

Funded a city wide disability infrastructure plan so people with wheelchairs could go places too

He once rocked three guys with guns’s shit because they were attempting to molest these little boys

Punched a teacher in the face for making a student cry

Will at any time drop everything the second one of his kids asks him to

There is an entire instagram account dedicated to pictures of him helping old people cross the street

Once a month he visits inmates at the prison and offers them jobs

Genuinely cares for his workers and buys them houses and cars if they need it

Literally created gothams public transportation system and made sure it was free

Teamed up with poison ivy to make public gardens for everyone to enjoy

Funds clean energy research

Any celebrity fan mail he receives he answers personally

One time a little girl asked him to come to her birthday party and he did and brought presents

Taught an entire school basic self defense

Brucie Wayne may be an idiotic little shit but he is the Prince of Gotham and Gothamites would lay down their lives for him more willingly than they would for Batman.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

dosg shifter 141 im in love queen <3, i cant wait to hear your thoughts on like if any of the guys are actually falling for reader??? like obviously if they were, you cant tell cause it just looks like your dog is showing it's usual affection towards ya yk....rightttt?

(This is probably a little more of a serious drabble than you expected wHOOps-- but 'twas needed anyhow)

For the first few days/weeks/however long, it’s very much a denial phase for the boys. They see reader as pack, but they can’t exactly explain why or how. To them, at the very least, you're a grounding technique that keeps their shifting from going haywire, or an easy cover that keeps them from being discovered. At most, those are both excuses for them sticking around--you're truly, undoubtedly, a loving protector, provider, and friend. And that's new. That's precious. Because they're so used to being the ones to protect and provide.

Being a soldier means a lot of conditioning, whether through training or trauma. And for them, it means believing in a cause while keeping yourself distant from that cause--because softness and close quarters make for poor decision-making, and there's no way to protect civilians while having the heart of one.

But this--whatever this is--is mutual.

They're forced to slow down, and for once, there's no running into the field, ready to die. There's no shower of bullets or swipe of the knife. They're no longer carrying assault rifles and camouflage; they're walking with you to the park, getting groceries, watching you sing to yourself in the kitchen. No--you're the one protecting them, albeit in less bloody ways. Often so kind and meek, yelling at a grumpy Karen who insults your dogs, or bandaging up cuts and scrapes whenever they get into trouble. Teary-eyed yet scolding. Out of true, genuine worry--and not the stress of a commander who's scared of losing his pawns.

Once that realization hits--that instead of a means to an end, you're truly and wholly a person to them, and that they mean the world to you--that you care so deeply and warmly and completely--it's impossible not to fall. Soon enough, they're nuzzling just a little closer into your embrace when night falls. They're paying extra attention to your likes and dislikes, and stopping themselves short of nosing into your favorite snacks. They're making the first move to hop onto the couch for movie night, instead of you calling beforehand.

In other words, at some point, it was no longer a transaction. It was no longer "I get" and "you receive." It was no longer them doing the bare minimum to guard you and keep you alive--but more. Because now, the reason your scent calls out to them is equally clear: you're not just safety.

You're home.

And now that they've found a home, they'll always come back to you, no matter what.

[petertingle-yipyip]

DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: matt x wife!reader

Word Count: 2, 156

Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.

//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own. i realize i lost the original plot so if it’s too bothersome, i’ll rewrite it// rewrite/part three?

The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.

You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.

You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.

You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.

Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.

“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”

“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.

“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”

“What does he do again?”

“Lawyer. Why?”

“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.

“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”

“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”

“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”

“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.

“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”

“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.

“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”

“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”

“What?”

“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”

“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.” “You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”

“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”

A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.

“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.

The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.

You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.

“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”

“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”

“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.

“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”

“But he’s blind!”

“So it seems.”

“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.

You simply shrugged and raised your brows.

“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”

“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Mrs. M, just-”

“Liv, boundaries, please.”

“Just listen!”

“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”

She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.

“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”

“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”

“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.

Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.

“Could’ve called.” You said simply.

“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.

“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I couldn’t focus.”

You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.

“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.

“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”

“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”

He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.

“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”

“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”

You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.

“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”

“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.

“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”

“Lucky me.”

“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.

“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”

“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”

“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.

“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.

“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”

“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”

You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.

“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.

“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”

“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.

“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”

“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair. 

“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.

“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.

“How did you guys meet?!”

“What’s her favorite color?!”

“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”

“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.

“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”

[bumblesimagines]

Ride or Die, Remember?

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Despite what happened between Karen and Frank, Lip can't let her go and (Y/N) begins growing tired of it. Another Gallagher sees an opportunity.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Mentions of teen-adult relationships (Kash-Ian, Karen-Jody), typical Shameless warnings, brothers best friend trope, some sexual content dontlookatme, minor violence at the end

Plot was too juicy to abandon

~~~

What was it about Karen fucking Jackson that had every guy losing their mind over her?

(Y/N) hardly understood why Lip tripped over himself chasing after a girl who looked like half the rest of the city's population. There were petite, skinny, blonde girls with raging daddy issues everywhere, and yet all he ever spoke about was her. Karen this, Karen that, Karen, Karen, Karen. He missed the old days before she sprung up in their lives, the days when they'd make a quick buck off struggling students and hang out with people apart from the whiny blonde.

Exhaling smoke from his lungs, he pressed the cigarette into the wooden railing of the porch and flicked it in a random direction, the distant sound of honking mixed with the muffled sound of children inside the house filling the air. He checked his phone for the sixth time and still found no new message from Lip. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and pushed himself off the railing, considering finding something better to do than standing around like a fool waiting for him. 

"Hey, (Y/N)," Ian's voice greeted him, sweat dripping off his pale face from the sweltering heat of summer. Parts of his shirt had darkened in color from the sweat accumulated across his body, and (Y/N) had long discarded his own in favor of not walking around stinking like shit. Ian's eyes jumped down from (Y/N)'s face to not-so-subtly eye him before he mustered a polite smile. "Waiting for Lip?"

"Apparently." (Y/N) huffed. "He called and when I got here all I found was Debs with like forty kids and Fiona sleeping upstairs."

"You, uh... wanna wait in the pool? It's better than waiting inside with the kids or out here in the heat." Ian offered with a tilt of his head, his smile widening when (Y/N) nodded. Lounging around in water certainly sounded more appealing than melting on a porch waiting for Lip to show up. 

Ian opened the front door and they stepped inside, maneuvering around the playing children while Debbie and Ethel tried keeping everyone in check. Ian shed his soaked shirt and tossed it aside into the laundry basket by the washing machine, briefly poking his head into the bathroom by the second staircase to grab two towels before he led (Y/N) outside into the backyard. (Y/N) slipped his shorts off, kicking off his shoes and socks as Ian did similarly. 

The water had long been warmed by the sun but it still felt heavenly against his heated skin. Ian laughed at the sigh of relief that left him and hopped into the pool, the splash from his body colliding with the surface spraying over (Y/N). Ian resurfaced and grinned at him mischievously, wiggling his brows in a silent challenge. Arching one of his own, (Y/N) snatched one of the pool noodles floating about and snickered when Ian hurriedly paddled away to get the other one. 

It felt nice being able to act like a child instead of having to scramble around pickpocketing or fighting to stay alive. It also felt nice to have someone to be a kid with instead of being dragged around by a pussy-whipped genius who only ever spoke or cared about one single topic. Splashing around and beating each other up with foam toys made (Y/N) reconsider if perhaps he'd chosen the wrong Gallagher to befriend. 

Dipping one end of his pool noodle into the water, Ian waited a moment before he lifted it and pointed the end at (Y/N), pressing his lips to the other end and blowing into it to spurt water at him. (Y/N) turned away with a laugh and felt the water land along his back, his arm making a sweeping motion along the surface of the rocking water to return the gesture.

Immediately, another water fight began but it ended just as quickly when Ian grabbed his wrist and held them, a wide grin toying at his lips. 

"Looks like all that wannabe soldier shit paid off." (Y/N) said as he wiggled his hands free from Ian's hold. West Point, or so he'd heard, was Ian's goal for the summer. Lip whined about it whenever Karen miraculously wasn't on his mind. 

Ian's eyes lit up and he raised his arm out of the water to flex his developing bicep, droplets of water dripping off the muscle. "You think so?" He asked, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"Yeah," (Y/N) snorted and smacked the back of his hand against Ian's stomach. "You've got abs now, kid. Congrats."

"Can't call me kid if you're only a year older, (Y/N)," Ian told him, dropping his arm back into the water and moving closer to press against the pool's wall. He placed his arms along the top and hooked his chin over one to watch him with those dark green eyes. The sun lightened them enough for (Y/N) to spot the way his pupils dilated the longer he stared at him. 

"Whatever, Carrot Top." (Y/N) tore his gaze away from the ginger and focused on the rippling water. "Are you seriously going to apply? If you do Lip's probably going to end up going with you. He's worried about you. He thinks you're going to get yourself killed and shipped back in a coffin."

"Is that what you think, too?" Ian questioned quietly, a hint of disappointment in his tone. Lip had no doubt made his opinion of West Point and being a soldier loud and clear to his brother, likely numerous times. Lip never gained the ability to take a hint. 

"I don't think about you as much as you think about me." (Y/N) flashed him a grin and chuckled when Ian scoffed at his words, his pale cheeks undeniably burning hot. He looked away from him for a moment and then something sparked in his eyes. 

"I bet after today you'll think about me more often." Ian cooed, slipping one arm back into the water and reaching out to trace his fingertip over the waistband of (Y/N)'s briefs. A chill jolted down (Y/N)'s spine and he pushed Ian's hand away with an eye roll, some heat rushing to his face. "If you've known I liked you, why haven't you ever done anything about it?" Ian asked, shuffling closer.

"Because until a few months ago you had the face of a twelve-year-old. All cheeks and big eyes." (Y/N) grinned and pinched Ian's cheek, chuckling when he swatted at his hand and gave a soft huff. "Besides, you're Lip's brother, and the siblings of friends are always off-limits. Too much drama. It's not worth fighting or arguing over a quick fuck." 

"I could be more than that," Ian argued softly.

(Y/N) hummed forcibly, feeling his body tense and heart squeeze in a less-than-comfortable way. The heat flooding his face and neck felt unbearable and every part of him wanted to snap at Ian to replace the feelings bubbling inside with something familiar. He glanced at the blazing sun over his shoulder, noticing the blue in the sky beginning to turn orange.

"I should get going. I'm not going to sit around waiting for Lip forever." (Y/N) forced out and propelled himself toward the ladder, quickly climbing out and grabbing one of the towels. 

"Hey, wait, you can- you can stay for dinner if you want? You should take a shower, too. Nobody should be using it right now." Lip sputtered out, following him out of the pool and hopping down onto the grass beneath. He took the second towel and wrapped it around his shoulders, his brows slightly knitting. 

"Fine, I'll take a shower but I don't want to hear shit about the water bill." (Y/N) said and retrieved the clothes on the ground, following Ian back inside where Debbie, Ethel, and Fiona were cleaning up the mess left behind by the children they babysat.

Fiona greeted him with a sweet smile and friendly shoulder squeeze before she returned to the living room and continued cleaning. They took the stairs by the kitchen and Ian checked the bathroom, giving a small nod. (Y/N) muttered a small 'thanks' and stepped inside, setting his clothes aside and turning the shower on. Before he could close the door, Ian pressed his hand against it. 

"We, uh... we could save water by showering together, you know. It's a tight squeeze but we could make it work. It'd help with the bill, too." Ian's face reddened, almost matching the shade of his hair. (Y/N) blinked at him, unable to resist the amused smile from appearing on his face. He snorted and brought a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose and tilting his body so Ian could step inside the bathroom. 

Ian's features comically brightened and he eagerly slipped inside, shutting the door behind him and letting out an airy, almost surprised laugh. (Y/N) rolled his soaked briefs off himself and tossed them aside, one hand reaching into the shower to feel the warmth of the water before he stepped inside, a sprinkle of smugness slipping through his veins when Ian's eyes tracked him. 

The water felt nice against his cool skin and he dipped his head under the running water, feeling the water trickle down his face and chest. He almost flinched when the soap bar was pressed against his back, a gentle hand rubbing the soap against his skin and helping rinse it off with water.

(Y/N) smiled to himself and stepped forward slightly, turning around and tugging Ian under the water. He raised his hands to the short soft hair on his head and trekked his fingers through it, thoroughly washing his hair with a small grin. 

"It's nice, right?" Ian asked, stepping back and wiping water off his face. His soapy hands reached down, rubbing along (Y/N)'s sides before his fingers dug into the muscles of his hips. (Y/N) arched a brow, managing to keep his attention focused on Ian's face despite the temptation to glance downward. 

"What is?"

"Being taken care of," Ian answered, pulling him forward with ease and pressing his lips into the side of (Y/N)'s neck when their chests pressed together. (Y/N)'s fingers curled around whatever hair he could grasp, a soft sigh leaving him followed by a small chuckle. He felt Ian's arms coil around him, pressing him as close as possible and making both their breaths hitch briefly. 

"Ian." (Y/N) murmured warningly, his free hand grabbing the ginger's shoulder and pushing on it weakly. "Lip will be pissed-"

"I don't care." Ian exhaled against his neck, pressing his lips against it again and suckling a light marking on it that made (Y/N) shudder and Ian grin. He trailed quick yet sweet kisses up his neck and jawline until he reached (Y/N)'s lips, lingering over them briefly before kissing him with need. (Y/N) let out a muffled grunt, unused to the feeling of being wanted outside of drunken hookups at parties, but he savored it. Ian knew how to keep a secret, anyway.

There was a mutual giddiness to it; kissing under the shower, touching new uncharted territory, whining and grunting in each other's mouths when one of them grounded their hips together. Ian gave in first, pulling away from (Y/N) with almost swollen lips and a trail of saliva connecting them. (Y/N) gaped at him when Ian lowered himself down onto the floor of the tub, the spray of the water mostly blocked by (Y/N)'s body. A rush of heat shot down to his lower belly and he felt himself flush again, his hand continuing to grip Ian's hair while the other planted itself against the cold tile wall. 

Ian's hands roamed his thighs, the water slipping between his fingers as he squeezed whatever fat and muscle he could. He brushed his lips teasingly over his skin, leaving gentle nips behind that had goosebumps rising along his body.

A sharp curse left (Y/N) when Ian's soft lips wrapped around him, pleasure shooting up his spine and spreading through his veins like a wildfire threatening to consume his mind. Ian's eyes jumped up to his face, big and wide and full of mischief and desire. (Y/N) could hardly look at him, unusual for a guy used to things like hookups, but everything felt different with Ian. Too personal. Too emotional. 

Part of (Y/N) wanted to reel away, to push Ian away despite the fact his hand pushed against the back of Ian's head and drew him closer. Ian's grip on his thighs tightened, his cheeks burning once again with a fiery red and eyes slowly turning glassy with tears. (Y/N) breathlessly chuckled at the sight and Ian's eyes narrowed, his tongue suddenly pressing flat against him and making (Y/N) curse again.

It was odd, (Y/N) had to admit, having Ian before him in such a state when he spent so much of his alone time with Lip lightheartedly poking fun at the boy's crush. 

"How-" (Y/N) swallowed roughly when Ian drew his head back, only to move forward again faster than last time. "How many times have you dreamt about this, huh?" 

Ian dug his fingertips into his skin hard enough to leave indents from his blunt nails in response before his hands continued exploring, squeezing and digging into everything they could find. Soft panting, cursing, and the occasional sound of gagging filled the small bathroom, mixing in with the sound of water; soft enough for the house to remain unaware but loud enough for Fiona to grab the door handle then jerk her hand back as if it'd burned her when the noise reached her ears. 

It didn't take a while for (Y/N) to fall apart, his legs trembling slightly and his hand tearing itself from Ian's head to slam against the wall before he could topple over. Ian took him as well as he could, nose brushing against the fuzzy hairs growing at the base and eyes crinkled with pride and delight.

He remained there until satisfied and drew back fully, grinning widely at the string connecting his lips to (Y/N)'s most intimate body part. His tongue swiped over his lips and he used the edge of the tub to stand back up on wobbly legs, his knees red from his time kneeling. 

"Jesus, Ian," (Y/N) murmured, watching Ian swallow happily before his mouth parted to catch the spraying water, using it to rinse his mouth. He tilted his head away and spat it back out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and leaning in to kiss him again. (Y/N) weakly returned it, one hand removing itself from the wall to grab Ian's hip. 

His hazy mind slowly cleared, air properly returning to his lungs and allowing him to steady himself. Ian watched his face with a wide smile, one that disappeared when the hand on his hip cupped him. Ian's head dropped onto (Y/N)'s shoulder, his hips stuttering when fingers wrapped around him.

"Asshole," Ian hissed when (Y/N) gave him a teasing, experimental squeeze. 

"Don't bite the hand that feeds." (Y/N) breathed in his ear and felt Ian twitch at his words, his whole body shuddering. 

Ian clamped his teeth lightly on (Y/N)'s shoulder, his hands fumbling around the older teen's body desperate to find something to hold onto when (Y/N)'s hand slowly moved. He hardly had any of Ian's kindness; slowly taking his time and watching Ian easily crumble. Ian was surprisingly well-endowed, though he supposed the whole skinny guy joke held some truth to it. Ian's teeth dug harder into his skin when the pace quickened, his hips bucking along with the movements and a trickle of saliva escaping the corner of his mouth.

"Easy, Ian." (Y/N) cooed as Ian practically humped his hand, slowing down his pace and arching his brows at him.

"God, you're a dick." The ginger whined, finally releasing (Y/N)'s shoulder and instead burying his face into his neck, lips mouthing different curses as more whines and sighs escaped him. Once Ian's desperation subsided, (Y/N) returned to the quick pace abruptly and slung his other arm around Ian's waist to keep him from actually crumbling onto the tub. Whether Ian was sensitive to touch or simply sensitive to his touch, (Y/N) enjoyed watching him turn into a breathy, almost blabbering mess.

Ian pulled away from his neck to slam their lips together, teeth nearly clacking together from the force. He let a low, whiny-ish groan against him, his release coating (Y/N)'s thigh and slowly washing away with the water sliding down his body. (Y/N) laughed breathlessly and kept an arm around Ian until he grew steady again before he properly washed himself off and stepped out of the tub.

Tying the towel around his hips, he grabbed his clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, making brief eye contact with an amused Fiona down the hall before turning and entering the boys' shared bedroom. He rummaged through the underwear drawer until he found one of his old pairs and slipped them on, followed by his shorts and the shirt he'd previously tossed aside when he'd first arrived.

Ian slipped inside a moment later, drying himself off before sorting through his clothes and throwing them on while (Y/N) collapsed on his warm bed. 

"We should hang out more often." Ian said with a grin, plopping down on the mattress beside him and leaning down to kiss him. "Especially without Lip." 

As if on cue, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house. "(Y/N)? You here? I got caught up with somethin', I swear." Lip called out into the house, his voice also echoing and bouncing off the walls. 

"Speaking of," (Y/N) sighed heavily and peeled himself from the bed, throwing the bedroom door open and making a sharp turn down the staircase into the kitchen.

Ian followed him, taking a sandwich Carl went to bite into and giving his little brother a grin right as he shoved half of it into his mouth and offered it back. (Y/N) snorted at the interaction and shook his head, peering into the living room to find the teen waiting by the first staircase. 

"Yo!" Lip greeted without a speck of guilt on his face. It grinded (Y/N)'s gears. "I was thinkin' we should run a background check on Jody to see if any sketchy shit pops up. You know a guy who can do that, right? Anything we find, we show to Karen. He's got to have a couple arrests, maybe we'll get lucky with a restraining order- why are you looking at me like that?"

"'Cause I'm fucking exhausted of your bullshit, Lip." (Y/N) scoffed, shoving past Lip and slamming their shoulders together hard enough for Lip to stagger backward. Lip shot Ian a bewildered look and the two Gallaghers scrambled outside after him. 

"What- What are you talking about? Listen, I know I'm a little late but I'll make it up to you, I promise, alright? I just need this favor, okay?" Lip's words only made his eyes roll, his jaw ticking and teeth grinding together. Lip grabbed his arm and stepped in front of him before he could fully leave the front yard, holding onto the sleeve of his shirt. He stared at him, his chest slightly heaving before his jaw clenched. Ever the short fuse. They were birds of a feather, the both of 'em. "Why can't you do this one thing for me, (Y/N)? Is it because of Karen? Because I'm in love with her and not you?"

(Y/N) nearly went jaw-slacked at his words, brows raising and eyes slightly widening. He could only stare at him in silence, the sneer he'd said it with feeling like a stab to the gut. It seemed as if all at once, the love, care, and awe he'd once held for the teen since the third day of first grade evaporated, replaced with bitterness and hurt. His brows dropped back into place and his head leaned back, a hum escaping his throat. 

"Is that what it is? You're pissed I'll never like you like that? That- what? I'll never be the Kash to your Ian? I love Karen. It will always be Karen, and the second you get that through your fucking skull, shit will go back to normal." Lip released him roughly, regret seeping into his vibrant eyes already, but pride never allowed him to apologize, not to anyone. 

"You..." (Y/N) laughed, and it felt as if a fog had lifted and the rose-tinted glasses had slipped off. "You are pathetic, Lip. Jesus Christ, you're a fucking loser. How come I never realized that shit? You're just a pussy whipped dickhead who acts like a dog in heat whenever Karen's around. I mean, shit. That's... that's so fucking depressing. You follow her around like a little kicked puppy, lapping up whatever seconds the guys at school and Jody leave for you. You're Karen's little bitch and you don't even realize it." 

Lip's eyes lit ablaze. "And what the fuck does that make you, huh? Everyone already knows you're my bi-"

Before the words could leave his mouth, (Y/N)'s fist connected with his cheekbone, and he fell to the pavement with a groan. (Y/N)'s instincts told him to kick him next, to kick his stomach, his groin, his face. His genes begged for violence, urged him to get the job done by breaking a bone or leaving him bloody; and despite every part of him wanting to do so, he swallowed down the rage as best he could. He took a deep inhale and slammed his foot into Lip's side, the force pushing Lip back onto the grass and out of his way. It'd certainly leave a nasty bruise.

"Go fuck yourself, Phillip. You want to chase after some ran-through bitch for the rest of your life, be my guest. I don't need you fucking up my year and making me look like I give a shit about some pathetic little boy toy." (Y/N) spat down at him and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"I'll see you around?" He stopped at the sound of Ian's voice, tilting his head over his shoulder to look at him as he crouched down by Lip's withering body. Lip coughed and clutched his side, his brows furrowing and eyes flickering between the two. (Y/N) felt a fluttery feeling develop in his stomach. 

"Yeah," He grinned. "Definitely."

[vigilante-3073]

All Those Who Go Unnoticed

Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Summary: Evan Buckley has always been left behind and forgotten about. What happens when someone finally decides to stay?

TW: Mentions of neglect and self-deprecating thoughts, angst, friends to lovers.

Evan Buckley was born to serve a purpose that he could not fulfill. His parents only had another child in a futile attempt to save his older brother Daniel. After his brother had passed away, Buck's parents treated him like he was a waste of space. Everything he did was wrong and he couldn't seem to ever find himself in their good graces.

Buck relied on his older sister Maddie for years until she eventually left him behind to start a life of her own. Buck left home as soon as he could, but struggled to find himself for years. He bounced between jobs in search of something that could make him feel like he mattered.

Everything fell into place when he decided to become a firefighter.

Buck loved his job at the 118, he saved lives everyday with some of the most amazing people he had ever met. He found a family that valued him and treated him how he deserved to be treated. Despite having everything he had spent his life searching for, Buck still felt like nothing he did was good enough.

He could have been smarter. He could have been faster. He could have done more.

Buck had never told anyone how critical he could be of himself. It was something that he always dealt with, definitely a mindset created by his parents.

Buck always felt like he had to prove himself and show everyone that he had value. It was a never-ending quest that weighed on him heavily.

Y/N had quickly become Buck's best friend when he joined the 118 all those years ago. She was a firefighter-paramedic and she was great at her job. Y/N never doubted herself and Buck admired her tenacity, especially when people challenged her in the field.

Y/N and Buck hardly went a day without seeing each other. He felt like his day wasn't complete until he talked to her.

They were the kind of friends that could have a 4-hour long video call while doing chores around the house or spend all day just chatting about nothing in particular. They knew everything there was to know about each other and seemed to share a brain at times.

Buck had never felt seen until he met Y/N.

Y/N always brought him into conversations or found her way over to him when she could tell he was pulling back. Y/N knew about how hard Buck could be on himself, she could tell when he was overthinking and was able to pull him out of that mindset.

"You need to be kinder to yourself, Buck," Y/N had told him one night when he was alone in the locker room after a rough shift.

"I'll try," He had replied.

Buck thought about that interaction quite often, he was always beating himself up for things he had little control over and it needed to end.

It was a hard cycle to break, but he was trying, and he was trying because of her.

...

Buck watched Y/N talk animatedly to Hen and Karen about a book they had all been reading. They laughed loudly at something she said before Hen began sharing her own thoughts on the book.

Y/N looked over, locking eyes with Buck from across the yard and sending him a small wave with a smile. He waved back, watching her as she returned to her conversation.

Bobby took a seat at the patio table beside Buck, "So, when are you gonna ask her out?" He questioned.

Buck's eyebrows raised, "Oh, no, I was just-," He started, "Save the excuse, I can tell that you like her as more than a friend," Bobby said with a knowing smile.

Buck looked down at the table with a sigh, picking at the label on his beer bottle with his thumb nail, "She's way too good for me," Buck said.

"What makes you say that?" Bobby asked.

Buck shrugged, "She's amazing and I'm just me... I don't deserve her," He stated.

"Buck, you're a good guy but you need to know when to get out of your own way. Don't overthink it, just ask her out. I'm almost 100% sure she would say yes if you asked her out on a date," Bobby assured.

"Almost 100%?" Buck asked.

"99.9% sure," Bobby amended.

Buck looked over at her to find her making her way over to the cooler full of drinks. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to her.

"Hey," He greeted.

"Hey, I was wondering when you were gonna stop hiding away in the corner," Y/N teased.

"Can I ask you something?" Buck questioned, "Of course," Y/N replied.

"Um, you can totally tell me if I'm looking at this the wrong way, but is there something- I don't know... Is there something more than friendship between us?" He asked.

"Do you want there to be something more?" Y/N asked.

"I think I do," Buck answered hesitantly.

Relief washed over him when a smile broke out across her face, "I do too," She said.

"Oh my god, you have no idea how fast my heart is beating right now," Buck said, huffing out a soft laugh.

Y/N rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound against her palm, "You really weren't kidding. Do you need to sit down?" She asked.

"No, I'm good. I just- Will you go out on a date with me?" He questioned, resting his hand over her's on his chest.

"Of course I'll go out with you, Buck," Y/N replied.

...

Y/N and Buck had been dating for almost a year, she had moved into his apartment and everything seemed amazing. Buck still felt like he was waiting for the day she found someone better and left him in the dust, but she chose him each and every day.

Buck had never felt like the center of attention, he always went above and beyond to be noticed, but it was effortless with Y/N. Buck felt like he was being seen after a lifetime of feeling invisible and it was the best feeling in the world. He couldn't think of a way to repay Y/N for bringing him to life again.

Until he did.

He sat at a table in the busy coffee shop, a mug of coffee sat on the table in front of him. Buck felt jittery and he had yet to take a single sip of the hot beverage, instead choosing to watch the door closely. Buck straightened up in his seat as Maddie made her way into the establishment. She walked through the tables before sitting down in the chair across from him.

"Where's Y/N? Is she not coming?" Maddie asked.

"Um, no, actually. I kinda needed some time to talk to you... Alone," Buck said hesitantly, grimacing at his own awkwardness.

Maddie gasped, "Are you going to propose to Y/N?" She asked.

Buck's face fell, "How did you know that? I didn't even say anything yet," He questioned.

"I just knew," Maddie grinned, "Aw, Buck, this is so exciting!" She said.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while now. I mean, with everything we've gone through this year, I don't want to spend anymore time not being together, y'know?" Buck questioned.

"I do," Maddie said.

"I think she's my person, Maddie," Buck admitted.

Maddie smiled, her eyes glossing over with happy tears, "She definitely is, Evan," She said.

"I was wondering if you had some time today to help me pick out a ring. I've looked around a little bit, but I'm kinda useless at this stuff," He said.

"Of course I'll help. Do you have any idea what kind of ring she may want?" Maddie asked.

"I think she likes the ones with the jewel that's shaped like an egg," Buck said slowly.

"This is going to be a very long and expensive day for you, little brother," Maddie sighed with a smile.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Pretty Girl || part 1

part 2 || part 3 || part 4

|| Regina George x female reader

|| Warnings: Regina being mean (not to reader), jocks being jerks bullying reader, mentions of throwing up

|| Summary: you were new to NorthShore and Regina George notices you. At first, it's just small run ins. Until it becomes more...

Requests open!

~~~

Ugh, math. Regina's least favourite subject. If it wasn't mandatory she would have dropped this class ages ago. Her nails drum gently against her desk as she glares at the clock, hoping to intimidate it enough to speed through the hour faster. She hadn't even been paying attention to what Ms Norbury was saying. That was until someone came running into the classroom, completely out of breath. Regina snapped her head towards the girl, raising an eyebrow. She didn't recognize you. Why?

"I'm so so sorry! I took a couple wrong turns and got lost on my way to class-" You apologized profusely to Ms Norbury, who had turned her focus to you now.

"Oh! Don't worry about it! You're the new student?" Ms Norbury asked, watching you with a curious gaze. You nodded quickly, hands on your knees as you tried catching your breath. You'd spent the last ten minutes running through the whole damn school. Trying to find your way through the unfamiliar maze of halls. Maybe you should have actually tried more in gym class at your old school, maybe then you wouldn't be so out of breath right now.

"Y/N L/N..." You introduce yourself, taking one last big breath before straightening up your back. Offering Ms Norbury a smile.

"Well, Y/N go find yourself a seat." She nodded her head towards the rows of desks and students, that's the moment you noticed everyone's eyes on you. It sent a chill through your spine, what did they all think of you? Probably thought you were a fool for getting lost. That's when you made eye contact with one girl in particular. You felt your heart leap into your throat at the sight of the gorgeous blonde. Intimidated by the gaze she had on you, you turned your head away and walked between a row of desks. Going towards one that was empty. A guy kicked his feet up on the chair and smirked at you, as if daring to sit there. Sighing, you opted to move further to the back. Taking a spare chair and sitting down without a desk in front of you. At least it was better than the floor (cough, Cady).

The pretty girl, that you would later come to know as Regina George, was seated in front of you. The rest of that class you spent watching the blonde, if anyone had tried talking to you you didn't notice. Hell, you didn't even care. Your full attention was on Regina George. Little did you know, you had captured her attention was well. Though she never made the move to look behind her at you.

~~~

Your day dreams were interrupted by the bell. Standing, you grabbed your things and glanced up to look at Regina again. The blonde's head had turned away the moment you looked at her... had she been staring at you? Shaking your head, you painted that as just another day dream; making your way out of the classroom and onto the next.

The rest of the morning was pretty boring. Though, overhearing some whispers you came to learn the pretty girl you had seen as Regina George. The most popular (and meanest) girl in school. You didn't see Regina again that morning. Part of you was glad for it. If she really was as mean as people were saying- you didn't want to think about what she would do to you if she ever learned of your crush on her.

~~~

The next few days were some of the most confusing days of Regina George's life. She'd find herself staring at you whenever you passed through the halls. She doesn't stare people. People stare at her. She's caught herself going out of her way to try and see you more. Leaving classes at specific times, hoping to run into you in the halls. Looking for you during lunch hour. Hanging out with Gretchen and Karen by where she found out your locker was, hoping to see you going to it between classes. Though she quickly learned you didn't use your locker all that often. Which did disappoint the blonde more than she would ever verbally admit.

It was getting so bad that Gretchen noticed it one day. She raised an eyebrow at Regina when she caught her staring off in the distance at something. Little did she know it was a someone. The four sat at their usual spot, Gretchen had been trying to get Regina's help with some new TikTok trend. When the blonde wasn't responding she looked up from her phone and at Regina. Confused when she seemed to be spacing out.

"Regina?" Gretchen spoke up, Regina simply ignored her. Her features quickly narrowing with frustration and anger as she looked at you.

You. Who was currently being bullied by a group of random jocks she didn't care enough about to name. Jocks that had taken your lunch tray and tossed it in the trash with malicious grins on their faces as they laughed. Regina felt herself snap and before she knew it, she was standing next to you. People had run to get away from her, fearing that they might get caught in Regina's crossfire.

"Hey!" Regina shouted, the jocks froze in place," Take the lunch out of the trash."

The jocks shared a look of confusion. Why was Regina George defending a nobody? What was so special about you? "What?" One asked.

"Take. it. out." Regina emphasized each word, her tone dangerous. You just stood there helplessly and watched as the blonde defended you. Even if it wasn't you she was mad at, you couldn't help feeling intimidated; and turned on?

The jock who had thrown the food in the trash grimaced as he reached in and pulled it out, turning his head at the sight of the trashed food. Gross. Regina smirked.

"Eat it." Regina said. Her tone sounding even sharper, laced with authority. You understood now exactly why everyone was so intimidated by her. The jocks tensed, looking between each other like 'is she for real'? "No, sorry? Did I stutter? I said eat it." The way she said sorry made it sound more like she was offended than apologetic. As if, did they seriously have the nerve to question her command?

Very hesitantly, the jock took a bite... then proceeded to throw up in the trashcan. Regina folded her arms, watching this happen with a smug expression.

"Go on, don't waste it." Regina couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

Oh. my. God? Regina George was easily the most intimidating and hottest person you've ever laid your eyes on. You stood there, jaw dropped to the floor as you swallowed. Just... Christ. Respectfully.

The jock's hands gripped the side of the trashcan until his knuckles were white; he silently shook his head, face paler than a ghost with green hints. Looking like he might just throw up again. The thrill Regina was getting from this was almost too much for her as a smirk tugged on her lips, eyes never leaving the jock. She took a picture to spread around social media later.

"No?" She questioned, taking a step forwards. His friend took a step back while the one Regina was focused on froze. A soft pink coloured his cheeks as embarrassment flooded through him, she was about to continue when you seemed to finally find your voice again.

Taking a step towards her. It was safe to speak up if you weren't the target? Right? "Regina, I think he gets it-"

She snapped her head towards you. You froze. Wrong. Maybe you weren't as safe as you thought. You couldn't read her expression at all. The silence felt loud, quickly interrupted by the sound of vomiting. Which made you grimace. Regina rolled her eyes but grabbed you by your wrist, her touch not as rough as you expected it to be. Her grip was... surprisingly soft? It sent shivers down your spine as she pulled you away and towards the plastics table. Gretchen, Karen and Cady had been watching the whole interaction. Sharing a look of confusion when Regina pulled you over.

"Regina. What are you doing? She can't sit with us-" Gretchen speaks up, Regina shoots her a glare that silenced the poor girl.

"Whatever I say goes. She sits with us." Regina stated, taking a seat and pulling you down next to her. Did you just join the plastics? According to Regina, yes. According to Gretchen, Karen and Cady... well, you weren't sure. Gretchen and Cady shared similar looks of shock and confusion, Karen had her usual stare.

"So like, what's your name?" Karen didn't know who you were. You weren't surprised, you didn't have any classes with her. you shared health/gym & French with Gretchen, Cady English, French & science, Regina math. So all three at least knew of you.

"Y/N," You offer Karen a shy smile. You weren't good with making friends, since coming to NorthShore you've been eating basically all your lunches in the bathroom to avoid people. That's where you'd been headed before the jocks noticed you.

Gretchen studied you before she sighed softly," Alright. Well, if you're going to be part of our group then you should know our rules."

"Rules?" You looked at Regina, who simply shrugged. You didn't know they had rules.

"Yes, but there isn't a lot." Gretchen informs you," Don't wear a tank top two days in a row- I see you've chosen today as one (you looked down at your tank top with a slight frown)- hair can only be worn as a ponytail one day a week, you can only wear sweats or tracks on Friday, you cannot buy a new shirt without asking us if it looks good on you, friends ex boyfriends are off limits (Cady suddenly blushed) and on Wednesdays we wear-"

"Pink!" Karen says suddenly, cutting off Gretchen who gives her a soft smile.

"Yes, pink." Gretchen nodded her head. i got the rules off a website.

"Right..." You weren't sure how to feel about the rules, you were damn sure you would forget one. Probably the sweats one. You had a lot of sweat pants. Though you didn't have enough time to think about them when Regina suddenly pushed her cheese fries towards you. Shocking Gretchen and Cady further. Gretchen more than Cady.

"Here. Your lunch was trashed. They're cold anyway, I was going to get more." Regina explained briefly, getting right to the point. You couldn't help but stare at her. Why was she being so nice to you? Well, nice might be laying it on too thickly. Her tone still had attitude to it. You were sure nice wasn't the right word to describe how the blonde was behaving, but you couldn't come up with a better one.

"Thank you.." You say, be it a little awkwardly. You didn't mind that they were cold. You were basically starving since your dumbass had missed breakfast that morning, being in such a rush to get to school. So, cold or not you were grateful for the fries as you began eating them. It was the best school food you've ever tasted. Your eyes immediately lit up and looked down at the food in front of you. You were sure that Regina George got special treatment when it came to cafeteria food. How she managed that, you didn't know. You could probably guess, though you didn't care enough to. Your mind just focused on the fries.

Regina gave you a soft smirk as she watched your reaction to the food, finding it adorable. Wait. No. Adorable? She stood from her spot," I'm getting more cheese fries."

With that, she left. Leaving you with the confused Gretchen and Cady... Karen you weren't sure about. She was just sort of vibing. Though she did strike a sudden conversation about Halloween with you, which was a week away (you joined the school year late).

The rest of the school day went rather normally. People stopped messing with you when news about you joining the plastics spread, your classes were uneventful. Though you sat with Cady during science. You two chatted, got to know each other a little better. You found out Cady was a new student from Kenya and Cady found out you used to live in Canada. She wondered what Regina would think of that, if she even knew what Canada was. You were even paired up as lab partners. Your project accidentally exploded, which was more your fault than Cady's. You laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of your neck.

"Sorry about that.. must've mixed it too much." You state, Cady smiles. She wasn't upset with you like you thought she might be; which led you to realize she was the nicest of the plastics. Someone you definitely wanted as your friend.

"You really are Canadian, aren't you?" There was only a bit of teasing in her tone, the rest of it was soft and kindhearted.

You couldn't help but laugh, genuinely this time.

~~~

Soon enough, it was the end of the day. You were about to head for the bus when you heard Regina shout your name. You turned your head behind you and looked at her with confusion, she beckoned you towards her. You swallowed and listened, the bus leaving as you moved away from it. When you glanced back you groaned in frustration. Great, now you didn't have a way home.

"Hurry up, loser!" Regina shouted at you, you turned your attention to her again and picked your pace up. Reaching the four rather quickly. "Come on." The blonde took your wrist in that same soft grasp that made you smile as you followed her.

"Where we going?" You asked, Regina scoffed as if it were obvious.

"My place, duh." She stated.

~~~

I'm realizing this will be a multi-part series because I'm too excited about it to not post it now. Super proud of how part one has ended up turning out. Part two will be found (here) and in masterlist once it's done! I haven't even started it though so it will take some time. Feel free to leave requests in the mean time and if you have something specific you'd like to see in part two lmk and i can probably fit it in!

[nthspecialll]

Historical accuracy

When it comes to Red Dead Redemption historical accuracy plays a massive role in the characters every move, from the way they dress to the way they talk and naturally their opinions and because Rockstar are so good at remembering that it is crucial to remember it when thinking about the characters.

No it is not weird Bill is a racist, even around Dutch. No Javier is not just cruel in chapter six. No Dutch is not an all good progressive guy. No Arthur would not "treat you right." However these opinions are not completely popular amongst the fandom because some don't understand it. What do you mean Arthur who helped women believes in gender roles? What do you mean Dutch who saved Lenny is a raging racist against others? What do you mean Bill who is in a fairly progressive gang still dislikes people of color? What do you mean Javier who yelled at Abigail could be understood when doing so?

Even if all of these things don't make sense to us, doesn't mean it doesn't actually make sense. When looking at it from a historical perspective it makes perfect sense, however, a lot of us lack the general knowledge about that time for it to naturally fit for us.

This makes headcannoning and theorizing a lot harder, not just because it is not everyone who can just have access to all of this information which often would make a historian frown if they read the headcannon, but also because these characters are so diverse and comes from such diverse pasts.

For example, another piece of knowledge that most of the fandom lacks that would put a stick in many headcannons is that men in the 1800's were generally affectionate with one another and weren't afraid of sweet words or physical touch. A lot of VanDerMatthrews is based on their physical touch and sweet words, however that said Arthur does say people could mistake their affection for something else, meaning they would sometimes go over what was considered normal.

Another headcannon I can quite fast debunk is "Arthur is an alcoholic," a headcannon I have so far only seen based on the fact that he drinks every time there is a bar scene, however people forget that there was a different drinking culture back then and it was normal for people to drink more than what we do today. Karen is an actual alcoholic and there is a massive difference between her who had found the bottom of the bottle at 10pm and Arthur who drank whenever he came into a bar.

The same can be said with "Arthur is so addicted to nicotine! That is why he took the cigarette Seamus threw on the ground!" No there just wasn't that good hygiene back then and there was an appreciation for not letting a good cigarette go to waste.

Again, some of these minor details can be so hard to get right that I do not blame people for getting them wrong, I have myself had to delete posts because there were things I did not know, but they are there some bigger ones that I do think are more commonly known or at least should be.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the taste

buttercup, chapter four

a/n: the smutty smut has arrived, folks!

summary: “look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, kissing, over the clothes fun, dry humping, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 2419

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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It had been the end of June when your parents passed. You didn’t recall much from that summer, most of your memories had just kind of faded away as the brain occasionally does when it’s faced with trauma, but one thing that you’d never forget was the feeling of Howard, each and every morning, gently lifted you out of bed and attempted to let you sleep a little longer, holding you like a tiny baby bear against him, as they went to open up the bakery. 

School was out, and at only nine years old, you couldn’t just stay at home all alone, not with their long hours and especially not with the overwhelming grief you were dealing with. So, they brought you with them.

It didn’t take very long before you forgot about your toys and activity books in favour of just watching the magic that went on in the kitchen. Soon you were running around the place doing all matter of little tasks they could come up with for you and when they noticed the missing glint it brought back to your eye, they began to teach you and truly made you fall in love with the meditative craft. 

At the end of that summer when the next school year rolled around, you didn’t wanna leave. You’d grown up here, you’d healed here, the doorframe into the small lavatory in the back even had little chicken scratches documenting your height. This place was your home.

Sweeping a damp cloth over the steel tabletops, the music emanating from your phone that rested on the dark windowsill suddenly stopped as it buzzed with your ringtone. Putting it on speaker, you kept on wiping the surface down. 

“Matt, hi!”

“Hey,” his deep timbre filled the dim kitchen of the bakery. 

“I’m just about to lock up, if you’re still up for a little company.” 

“Yeah, about that,” he puffed out a heavy breath, “I’m still at the office.”

“Oh,” your moments froze a moment, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just swamped with this case prep.”

“Is it just you there?”

“No, the others are here too.”

“Well,” you exhaled a smile, “if you’re gonna burn the midnight oil, maybe I could come over with some of the leftovers from today to keep you guys going?”

Still in the doorway, your arms enclosed around Matt and the stuffed brown paper bag in your hand hung over his shoulder. 

Eyeing the goods, Foggy’s voice found your ears, “is that the–”

“Yeah,” you simply extended your arm in his direction, “here you go, take it.”

“Oh my god,” he snatched it out of your grasp and opened the crinkly bag up, nearly drooling as he glanced through the selections, “Karen, could you–”

“Get some plates? Yep,” the honey-haired woman then moved into the small kitchenette and grabbed some paper plates and napkins. 

Drawing back from the fleeting embrace, Matt then asked, “how was your day?” 

“It was fine,” you shrugged, your eyes briefly flickering over his attire, the tie tugged loose around his unbuttoned collar and his sleeves were rolled up past his burly forearms, “I kinda like it when I get to do the night shifts all alone. It’s so quiet–, oh, and I get to have full control over the music choice. It’s great,” a slight grin brightened your features, “how about you, huh?” you grabbed his hand in yours, “what’s this wild case about?”

A deep sigh flowed from his lips as he squeezed your hand, “uh, it’s this kid who–,” his phone then abruptly began to buzz in his pocket, “oh, sorry,” he fished it out, “I gotta take this.”

Letting go of his fingers, you said, “of course,” and watched as he ducked into his own office and answered the call. 

As you gazed at his visage still visible through the glass, Foggy’s words stirred you from your daydream.

“He’s happy.” 

Turning to blink back at him, you hummed, “huh?”

“You make him happy,” Foggy smiled from the humble conference room, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him smile that much with anyone else, but then again, you are quite different from his usual type.”

Passing over the threshold into the space, your brows furrowed, “I’m not his type?”

“No! Oh, that came out wrong,” he winced, “Matt just has a tendency to get involved with the wrong kind of girls. You’re just different,” hastily adding, “in a good way.” 

“Oh…” you sank down into one of the chairs, wondering tensely if he was still dating others since you’d never had a conversation about how exclusive you were or how serious this thing between you even was, “does Matt date a lot?” 

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that, since it never really lasts that long,” Foggy said, though when he noticed the look on your face, his features soured in regret, “wow, I’m really screwing all of this up, aren’t I… look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

Just then, you heard Matt’s footsteps entering the room from behind you, “hey,” he called Foggy’s attention, “you mind going down to the station tomorrow morning, check if Brett can get us any files that might help?” coming to a stop just behind where you were seated, his touch grazed the back of the chair. Reaching back, you caught one of his hands and briefly craned your neck, bringing his palm up to your lips to press a small peck to his calloused skin. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go buy some more cigars,” Foggy sighed, briefly turning his attention back to the computer before him, slumping slightly as the intimidating and tangled laws still flashed back at him on the screen from when he’d looked them up earlier, he then blinked back up at you, “hey, Y/n?”

“Hm?” you hummed, meeting his eye as you weaved your fingers with Matt’s. 

“Have I ever told you that my mom wanted me to be a butcher?” 

“Oh,” you heard Matt sigh dramatically behind you as Karen too bit down on her lip to suppress a smile, “not the butcher story.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry to break the news,” you said light-heartedly as you chewed on the taste Matt had offered you of his curry, “but I definitely picked the better one.”

With his tinted glasses resting on the coffee table beside where your takeout container of Thai food rested, a smile twitched on Matt’s lips, “well, you do work in food, so it does make sense that you’re better at ordering.”

“Here,” you filled your spoon up with the red soup, catching one of the floating pieces of tofu, before bringing it up to his lips, “give it a taste.” 

An airy giggle bubbled out of you as a drop of soup clung to the corner of his lip and you instinctively reached out to wipe it clean, his chuckle swiftly mirroring your own. Though when you then froze, fingers staying close, your laughter faded. The fluorescent light that streamed in through the tall windows of his apartment illuminated his features as you watched him swallow the small taste. Ghosting your thumb across his skin, you traced his bottom lip. You weren’t sure who moved first, but the next thing you knew, you were locked in a kiss. 

You faintly heard him place his dinner down on the coffee table before his palms came up to cup your cheeks. You fumbled a bit, trying not to tip anything as you laid down the spoon in your grasp. 

A yearning whimper seeped from deep within your chest when you felt his tongue faintly ghost against your own before he breathlessly eased back a bit to utter, “you’re right,” stealing a soft peck before he went on, “It does taste really good.” 

Tilting your chin, you fervently captured his lips once more, your touch crumbled up his shirt till it found purchase in his already loosened tie, playing with it as your tongue danced against his. 

When he buried his hands in your hair, his short nails soothingly scraped over your scalp and a small moan flowed from you and vibrated against his kiss. 

The clear pulse that rocked throughout your body accumulated between your legs in a dizzying throb, an enchanting sensation that swayed you to get even closer and crawl into his lap. His wide palms dragged down the length of your spine in a way that caused a shiver to follow along.

Tangling your fingers in his hair as you kissed him back, your hips then instinctively sought to scratch and satisfy the itch that had grown so immense by rocking down against him and the noticeable hardness that tented his pants. 

Breathlessly in between kisses, Matt said, “you wanna enjoy the food before it gets cold?” offering you a gentle escape in case you needed it.

Ghosting the tip of your nose against his, you uttered, “I don’t mind popping it in the microwave,” deliberately rolling your hips against his once more, “do you?”

Sharing his hot breath, you were so close that your lips nearly crashed into one another once more, but they didn’t as your pelvis kept up their slow and teasing grinding. Matt’s eyes fluttered shut a moment as he let out a low groan, “no,” his touch slid further down and dug into the softness of your bottom, “no, I don’t mind.” 

Capturing your lips once more, he slowly began to grow more confident in his touch, though some weariness still lingered as he began to aid your movements. 

As his lips migrated down the length of your neck, you let out a moan, “fuck,” your frame shivering from the pleasure, “oh my god,” yet also out of a deep desire for more, “Matt…” 

“Yeah?” his low voice vibrated against your throbbing pulse on the side of your neck. 

“M-Matt–,” your eyes fluttered shut as he rocked you down harder against him, “oh, holy fuck… could you–, would you–”

“What?” the sound of his words made you feel dizzy, “what do you need?”

“Touch me,” you uttered hazily, head enchantingly tilted back. 

“Yeah?” he reeled back a bit as one of his hands scooped up to find your cheek. 

“Please,” you downright whined, “please, Matt.”

Keeping one hand fast in your hair, the other one moved to caress the soft peaks of your tits. 

“Here?” 

You let out a filthy whimper as he palmed you, “uhh, ngah–, lower–…” his hand teasingly complied, “lower…” till he finally cupped you through your pants. 

“Here?” he pressed down against the seam, “huh? Is it here, Y/n?

“Y-yes!” you shuttered on top of him as he rubbed your thrumming clit so perfectly through your clothing, “oh, f-fuck, you’re good at that–”

He stole a short, yet sloppy kiss from your lips before your head tilted down and buried itself in his neck. Your moans were muffled against the crook of his shoulder as you then glided your own fingers down along the length of his arm, feeling the muscles of his forearm tense beneath your touch as he worked you. Eventually, your hand found what it was looking for, your palm rested atop of his, almost like you were holding his hand as you felt it move beneath yours and stroke you silly. 

Your fingers then grasped his tighter as you plucked it further up and stuffed it into your waistband, guiding his reach all the way down till you soaked his digits. 

“Christ, you’re wet,” Matt groaned as your touch, ever atop of his, begged him to swirl your puffy pearl, “fuck…”

Without the barrier of clothing, your frame swiftly began to crumble from the ecstasy. Your right leg gave out and slid across Matt’s lap to where your other limb was. Your head drifted down as well as Matt’s arms only tightened around your slumped form, keeping you flush against him as you hid your features in the mass of his arm as your free hand clutched onto it. 

Curling into him as he cradled you, the way he petted your pussy nearly made you vibrate, “don’t stop, please,” you unintentionally kept wiggling down against the tent in his pants. 

“I won’t,” he breathed heavily as he kept on caressing you, occasional moans also flowing from his lips, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

His long middle finger then slid down to tease your leaking hole before just shyly sinking in, just barely, keeping everything so light, before fluttering up to circle your clit again and then dropping down to repeat the motion till he had you on the edge. 

When you tumbled over, both of your hands joined at his bicep, digging into it as his name shined through your lewd moan.

Catching your breath, his fingers gently slipped out of your pants. Sluggishly, you clung closer and snaked your arms around him. 

“You okay?” he hugged you tight. 

“Mhm,” you hummed into his warmth.  

Planting a soft peck on your hairline, he then moved to readjust your embrace, lowering you both till you were lying on the leather couch. 

After a moment, your fingers twisted in the southern material of his shirt close to his belt, “do you want me to–…”

“No need,” he shook his head. 

Tilting your chin up, you glanced at his soft expression, “really?”

“Yeah,” a bright smirk tugged at his lips, “just the way you sounded was beautiful enough to do the trick for me.” 

Grinning wide, you felt your face grow hot at the compliment, haven not realised the power he had over you apparently went both ways. 

Cuddling him closer, you lifted yourself up a bit and pressed a slow kiss to his lips. 

When you laid your head back down, he asked, “do you want something to drink?” his warm palm drew slow and soothing patterns all along your spine, “some more to eat maybe?”

“No,” you blinked up at him, utterly spellbound, “could we maybe just stay here like this a little longer?”

“Of course,” he relaxed further beside you, “we can stay like this forever if you’d like.”

A smile then crept up on your lips as you pointed out, “forever’s a very long time…”

Chuckling lightly, Matt nodded, “it is…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[chvoswxtch]

hi um so this is like my first time making a request, like ever. I’m not even sure if this is where I’m supposed to put a request. So I’m really nervous but this idea has been in my head for weeks and I need it to be brought to life? Idk but can I request Matt Murdock with a sort of shy reader? Where he tells her about his abilities and daredevil and everything (established relationship) and she doesn’t really care as long as he’s safe but she has something in her mind and he notices and keeps asking and basically she has a question about his senses, specifically his taste and idk if you know but Matt can canonically know ALL of the ingredients of anything just from a taste and she basically wants to make him taste a bunch of stuff and tell her the ingredients of it so she can make them? I know this is probably WAY too specific so feel free to completely ignore this, I just wanted to get it out.

hi my darling!

so I actually read this request right before going to the grocery store, and while I was looking through produce, it made me think about how matt would absolutely know which produce was the freshest and which ones to avoid. I kinda mixed that in with your idea about being able to tell exactly what ingredients were in something, and I hope this is close to what you were looking for! <3

warnings: tooth rotting fluff and matt being a lil shit word count: 1.3k

lemons.

“Not that one.”

You hand instantly stilled over a lemon that your fingertips had already grazed over. Glancing at Matt over your shoulder, a crease formed between your brows while you looked back down at it.

“What do you mean? This one is perfect-”

“It’s not ripe enough.”

“But…it’s so yellow, like sunshine yellow.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Matt’s lips when he felt the way your own pursed into a bit of a confused pout. It was something you always did when you were intensely focused on something, and he found it endearing. Reaching his hand out, he used the pad of his thumb to smooth away the furrow that had creased in the middle of your forehead, and his soft smile curled up into a light smirk catching the flush of heat that immediately coursed through the tops of your cheeks.

“Well, I’m sure it’s a very pretty lemon, but it doesn’t taste ripe.”

Ever since Matt had told you the truth about his vigilante identity and his abilities, you’d had countless questions. You wouldn’t voice them at first, almost as if you were afraid to cross some invisible boundary that Matt might have, but he knew you, and he knew how to dismantle that shy exterior of yours. From the moment the two of you first met, you had been overly polite and accommodating about his disability, but not in a way that made him uncomfortable. You didn’t walk on eggshells around him or call any extra attention to his blindness. In fact, the way you interacted with him was so seamless, it was almost like it came second nature.

If you guys were grabbing coffee with Karen and Foggy, you would automatically place the raw sugar packets within his reach because you knew he preferred it to the artificial sweeteners. If the four of you went to check out a new lunch spot, you always called ahead to check if they had a menu in braille and made sure Matt was given one. There were so many little things you did to make him feel included and normal. It was part of why he fell so hard for you.

You never asked about the origin of his blindness, and even after he opened up and told you about his accident, you were reserved with your questions. He could tell you were curious, and he wanted you to ask. He wanted you to know things about him. You were a bit of a wallflower, and Matt could always feel you silently observing him, but he wanted you to understand him. He quickly realized he would have to flat out grant you permission to be nosey, and so he did.

Out of everyone he had revealed his Daredevil secret to, you had taken it the best. He didn’t know if he would ever get over the surprise of just how well you handled it. You didn’t get angry or yell at him. You didn’t call him a liar or a traitor, or ask him if he was faking his blindness; all reactions he expected. You just sat there in pure confusion, and you were silent for so long, Matt was panicked that he’d sent you into a state of shock. When it finally settled in that it wasn’t a joke, your brows knit together, and Matt could feel the way your face contorted into an expression of irritation when you flat out asked him if he was crazy. The memory of that night never failed to make him smile.

“Um…well, I mean…not in the traditional sense-”

“Matthew, what the hell are you thinking running around on rooftops, going after guys with guns and knives with…sticks? How do you even do that?”

“They’re batons, actually. Look it’s hard to explain, but I have heightened senses that help me-”

“Are those super senses going to keep you out of prison? Because that’s where you’re going if you get caught. What was the point of going hundreds of thousands of dollars into debt for law school if you were just going to wind up a prison cell for doing backflips off buildings in your underwear?”

“Heightened senses. And it’s not underwear. Underwear is comfortable.”

There hadn’t been a hint of anger in your voice. Annoyance, sure, but mainly concern. All you wanted was for Matt to be safe, and he did his best to assure you that he would be. Matt went into as much detail as he could to help you understand his abilities, and the more comfortable you got with asking him things, the more you learned.

Like how he could tell exactly what ingredients were in the lemon bread at the cafe down the street from your apartment that you loved so much, which was currently the reason behind your little trip to the store at the moment. All it took was one bite of the bread, and he knew exactly how to replicate it.

Apparently he could also tell when lemons were at their peak.

Reaching into the pile of lemons, Matt grasped the one that was in perfect condition to him and held it out towards you. Taking the lemon in your hand, you gave it a light squeeze, noticing that it was firm to the touch but easily gave into the gentle force of your fingers testing its density. 

“Feel the rind.”

Following Matt’s instructions, you brushed your thumb along the bright yellow rind. It was smooth to the touch, and somewhat glossy as it nearly reflected the brightness of the overhead lighting in the grocery store. 

“It’s shiny.”

Matt chuckled at your response and lightly nodded his chin in your direction.

“What else?”

“It’s smooth.”

“It’s perfectly ripe. The zest on this one is the freshest. It has the most flavor, and the right amount of juice.”

Arching one of your brows, you stared up at Matt curiously while still faintly squeezing the lemon in your hand.

“You can tell how much juice is in this just by touching it?”

A grin stretched across Matt’s lips, showcasing his dazzling teeth and causing indents to appear in his cheeks. His thick brows rose slightly above the rim of his crimson glasses.

“Are you doubting me, sweetheart?”

“No I’m just…still trying to figure out how you do…what you do.”

A bashful twinge of heat coated your cheeks once again, and Matt thought it was adorable that you diverted your attention back to the lemon shyly to avoid his gaze even though he couldn’t see your reaction. He reached out to tenderly brush his knuckles along the warmth in your cheeks while he smiled in your direction. 

“I’ll try to do better at explaining. Now c’mon, we have more ingredients to get. You know, I think this bread is gonna turn out so well, the one at the cafe might not meet your standards anymore.”

The confidence in Matt’s voice caught your attention, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. Sometimes you forgot that your boyfriend was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that everyone was so afraid of. If only they knew that he spent his Saturdays sniffing out ingredients at the grocery store like a bloodhound to help his girlfriend recreate the recipe for her favorite lemon bread.

“You know, if you didn’t love law so much, you could’ve made out like a bandit in a baking competition.”

“Oh I would’ve won with my sob story of being a blind little Catholic orphan alone.”

“Matthew!”

Matt snickered at the disbelief in your tone, but he could also detect the way the edges of your lips twitched, like you weren’t sure if you should laugh at that or not. Snaking his arm around your waist, he pressed a light kiss to your forehead and gently nudged you in the direction towards the spice aisle.

“Come on, we need flour.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover  @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[semperama]

AHHHHHH will you write me buddie for 56 "it brings out your eyes"????????? 😃😃😃

“It brings out your eyes.”

----

"Okay, which one?" Buck asks, holding up two different t-shirts, one sky blue and one salmon-y pink.

Eddie sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. He's been perched on the end of Buck's bed for what feels like an hour, watching him fuss with his hair and then rifle through his closet. "I don't know, Buck." He lets his gaze drift down Buck's body for what feels like the millionth time, trying to ignore the way it gets fractionally harder to breathe each time he does it. "The blue, I guess. It brings out your eyes."

Buck snorts. "I'm going to a club. No one'll be able to see what color my eyes are." He tilts his head to the side and grins. "Not that they'll be looking anyway."

"Oh my God." Eddie looks up at the ceiling and says a silent prayer for mercy. "This is why I told you I wouldn't be much help. What do I know about clubs?" Much less gay clubs.

"Come on, man." Buck tosses the salmon shirt down on the bed and starts peeling the blue one off the hanger. "I'm freaking out, okay? Are you sure you can't come with me?"

Can't? Maybe that was a lie. With Chris gone, he has no good excuse to stay home these days. But the last thing he needs is to watch Buck get hit on by random strangers--especially not if alcohol is going to be involved. He wouldn't even have come over to help Buck get ready if he hadn't begged him. It'll be the first time I've gone out since me and Tommy broke up, Eddie. I could really use a pep talk.

"I don't even understand why you have to go," Eddie says. He watches Buck pull on the shirt, tries not to linger too long on how it stretches around his biceps, over his chest. "Is this really a good way to meet guys? At your age?"

Buck gasps with exaggerated affront. "At my age?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. "Last time we went out with Hen and Karen you puked in my front lawn and then complained about your hangover for two days."

"I did a bad job pacing myself that night," Buck says, his mouth twisted into what could almost be a pout. "Karen holds her alcohol better than I do. And anyway, they're older than us, so if they can go out--"

"They go out like twice a year. Together. As a couple. Not to meet people."

Buck's expression darkens. "Yeah, well. I'm not part of a couple, so." Okay. So Eddie fucked up with that one. He sighs, but before he can apologize, Buck spreads his arms out and swivels his torso a little. "Just...how do I look?"

He looks good enough to fucking eat, of course. The shirt hugs him in all the right places. His jeans make his ass look great. He must have found some new product for his hair, because his curls are perfect and soft-looking, begging to be touched. Eddie wants to drag him in by the belt loops and beg him to stay.

"You look great, Buck," he says quietly. Because Buck asked him for a pep talk, and so far he's failed the assignment. The least he can do is try to turn it around. The least he can do is be a good friend, not a selfish, jealous asshole. "Seriously, you're going to have guys falling at your feet."

The smile that creeps its way across Buck's face make it all worth it. He ducks his head, shrugs his shoulders up, and Eddie is stabbed by a longing so intense he's halfway to his feet before he realizes what he's doing and stops himself.

"I'll let you get going then," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets do he doesn't give in to the temptation to touch. "Let me know how it goes?"

"Yeah," Buck says. His gaze is searching Eddie's face. For what, Eddie doesn't know. "Yeah, of course."

Eddie makes it to the door, breath painful and ragged in his chest, before he hears Buck's feet pounding down the stairs behind him. He turns to look, to ask if there was something else, but he barely opens his mouth before Buck is there, one hand on Eddie's neck, the other wrapping around his waist, pulling him in so close it knocks the air out of his lungs.

Then, Buck is kissing him. Desperate press of lips, tongue licking into Eddie's shocked mouth. It's an electric shock, white heat spreading through him, painfully good.

But then as soon as it started, it's over, and Buck is staring at him, wide-eyed. Eddie wants to dive into that blue gaze and drown there.

"I'm sorry," Buck says. "I just--I had to try. I had to know, before I--"

"Buck." His fingers are curled in the back of Buck's shirt, and he curls them tighter, presses Buck closer. "Don't go," he says. "Stay here. With me."

"Okay," Buck says breathlessly. He looks like he has no idea what's happening, and Eddie knows the feeling, but they can talk later, figure it all out later.

"Good," Eddie says, and pushes his fingers into Buck's hair, pulls their mouths together again.

[farfromstrange]

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness. 

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally. 

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by. 

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth. 

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.  

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you. 

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him. 

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave. 

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you. 

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again. 

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself. 

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive. 

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to. 

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure. 

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.  

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you. 

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you. 

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands. 

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts. 

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you. 

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop. 

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper. 

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth. 

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you. 

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart. 

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again. 

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all. 

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start? 

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say. 

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him. 

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.” 

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same. 

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back. 

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

[phfenomena]

❝you’re my best friend. ❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

request- Could you do something for Tom based off you are in love by Taylor Swift??

A/N- girl i will do that and MOREEE

| WARNINGS- eating, mentions of dying, talk of ants being inside of toms underwear

tom decided it was a brilliant idea to go on a ‘nature walk’ after wrapping up all of his promos, but it felt more like a trek up mt. everest in 100° heat to you. tom had been one of your closest friends for a little over three years. you met one december afternoon after he had moved to brooklyn. you had accidentally dumped your entire cup of coffee onto his nice white shirt, an incident he still hasn’t let you forget.

you studied the profile of tom from behind of him, the way his muscles flexed when gripping the straps of his backpack tighter, the way he stops abruptly to try and make you run into him, and the way he just looks so damn perfect. the thin and airy blanket of sunlight carefully draped over him, making him look like an angel to you. a being sent down from heaven just for you to secretly dissect with your eyes.

you pick up you pace to walk side by side with him, you always liked looking at face, anyway. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were leading me deep into the woods to murder me. why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” you joke and desperately want him to smile at you. his lips curl up and he says “i’m not going to murder you, love. but if you trip and die then that’s your fault. i had no play in that.” he throws his hands up, acting innocent.

“you wouldn’t try to catch me? like a true gentleman? i thought all british guys were gentleman.” you say feigning disappointment. he throws his back and chuckles into the sky. “if i try to catch you and we both go down then you just killed both of us for no reason. better that i live on to tell the tale of your demise.” you narrow your eyes at him and playfully push him. your shoulders brush as you’re walking and you feel like you’re on fire. no proof, one touch. but you felt enough.

“how much longer do we have? we’ve been walking for hours, my legs are about to give out from under me.” you try your hardest to channel your inner karen to truthfully sale your complaining. “we’ve been walking for twenty minutes, and if you need to i can always give you a piggy back ride.” he says with that oh-so-smug smirk, the blood rushes to your cheeks. you hang your head and laugh, trying your best to hide the way you can’t breathe.

he quickly runs ahead of you and stops, signaling for you to stop as well. “i found this place a few months ago, and i just thought you had to see it in person.” he pushes away a wall of branches that meet the tall grass, and reveals a beautiful meadow with a lake nestled in between some trees. you mouth drops as you walk forward. “oh my god, tom. it’s gorgeous.” you mutter as you carefully tread onto the meadow. “yeah, it is.” he whispers, but he’s not looking at the meadow.

he squats down and drops his backpack, pulling out a white blanket you recognized from him linen closet, and an array of snacks and drinks that you both love. you bite your lip to keep from smiling. “a picnic, tom? how sweet of you.” you say sitting down on the blanket and waving your hair out of your face. he takes a seat next to you and just looks at you. “what, do i have something on my face?” “yeah a massive spider right there.” he says and pokes your forehead causing you to fall to the side laughing.

he pulls two small plates out of his bag and hands one to you. “for you, madam.” he says as posh as possible. “why thank you, kind sir.” you reply in your worst british accent you could muster. you both giggle and load your plates up. tom talks aimlessly about what he’s auditioning for and what he thinks he’d like to do, you just nod pretending to understand what he’s talking about. you’re just proud of him for being himself. “yeah, more blond roles! we need the blond hair to make a comeback, even the tiktok girlies say so” you could barley finish your sentence without laughing, knowing how much tom hated the blond.

“or maybe another cowboy thing, i really liked that one.” you shyly admit, averting your eyes back to the beautiful scenery. “why did you like it so much? you’re like obsessed with ‘billy the kid’.” he says laughing and popping another grape into his mouth. you hum and bring your gaze back to him. “no reason, i just love cowboys. you were really working it, don’t get me wrong. but daniel as jesse was just-“ you finish your sentence with a chefs kiss and a giggle. “i’m totally telling him you said that.” your hands cover your face “don’t you dare! he has a girlfriend! he just looks really good as an evil cowboy.” your smile is plastered across your face so hard your cheeks hurt. tom mirrors your expression.

you two sit in comfortable silence just listening to the birds sing their ballads, and the way the wind makes the trees play their own melody. you’ve never felt happier and tom just looks so content. you can hear it in the silence.

as you two, finally, round the corner back to your car you throw your hands up. “freedom at last! no more walking for me!” you squeal and run towards your car, waiting for tom to unlock it. “you know, you could just get your own car instead of using mine whenever you can’t take your bike somewhere.” he laughs while he’s putting away the remnants of your meal in the backseat. “why would i need to buy my own car when i have you? plus you love my bike.” he points out as he’s settling into the drivers seat. the setting sun has reached the horizon, and darkness is taking over the beautiful forest you were just in. you nod as you’re connecting your phone to the bluetooth and shuffle taylor swift for the hour car ride home.

the warm car and toms soft humming pushes you into a calm and tired state. a small smile still glued to your face. you just feel so warm and relaxed, it’s how you always feel with tom. you close your eyes and begin to drift off. tom looks at your empty hand resting on the middle console, and slides his own over yours. your heart beats faster than you can count but you still feign sleep. you can feel it on the way home.

after pretending to be woke up by tom you both head inside of his apartment and drop your bags by the door. you kick your shoes off and collapse onto his couch, groaning. “never make me go on a hike with you again, my entire body hurts.” you complain before he laughs and sits down next to you. “i’m sure you’ll survive. i also have atleast three more planned but i’ll let you recover.” he pats your back and plays a random show, but it acts more like background noise.

“fuck, i have to get home it’s already so late.” you tiredly stand up and stretch, tom puts a hand on your back and whispers “why don’t you just stay the night? it’s too late to driving and you’re tired.” you weigh the choices in your head and you know logically it’s safer to just stay. you nod and sit back down, pulling the blanket that previously draped over both of you back to its original spot. “sounds fine to me, your couch feels like clouds anyway.” tom nervously taps his fingers against his knee and mutters out- “we can sleep in my bed, if you want. you don’t have to, i just thought it’d be more comfortable. it’s a rather small couch.” you’re almost too tired to not freak out over the thought of being in a bed with tom. key word- almost.

your eyes are wide and your face is hot. you manage to stutter out a “yeah, that’s cool.” he smiles and goes to grab extra blankets for the bed, after he turns the corner you cover your face and kick your feet like a schoolgirl. he’s turns the corner right after you calm down and holds out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for you. “i’m gonna go get changed, i think a colony of ants found home in my underwear from our picnic.” you almost wheeze at his comment and throw your head back. “lucky ants, they are.” you yell after he closes his bedroom door.

you settle into his bed and notice how everything smells like him. you’re not going to sleep a wink tonight. he turns his main lamp off and the room is dimly lit by a small night light plugged into the wall. he’s clad in just a tank top and boxers. you felt that you died a little bit on the inside after seeing him, and more of your died at the thought of laying next to him. he offers a small goodnight and rolls over so his back is facing you. you stare at his ceiling and try to fight the massive shit-eating grin that wants to come out.

you laid there for twenty minutes listening to his breathing before he turns over and faces you, still awake. “you’re my best friend, you know? i’ve never loved being around someone more. jus’ make everything feel so easy.” he whispers into the night, and you knew what it was. he is in love. you turn on your side to face him and smile wide. “thank you, tom. i’d say you’re my best friend as well but i don’t think rachel would like that, but just between us. you’re my best friend, and there’s no one else i’d follow blindly into the woods.” you whisper back, all nerves being forgotten. you can barley see his smiling face in the light, but it warms your heart. you stare into his eyes, wanting to flip back over and ignore the tension you feel. his eyes dart between your lips and your eyes, as if silently asking for permission.

you lightly nod and he sits up slightly and meshes your lips together. it was short and sweet and it leaves you feeling giddy. you grab the back of his neck and pull him back in, pouring your heart out into the kiss. he falls towards you, laying on top of you. he pulls away and cups the side of your face with his hand. you both snap out of the spell you were in and start laughing, hysterically. “i’ve been in love with you since i like met you, tom! daniel’s not the reason i love watching ‘billy the kid’ so much, i love it because you look so fucking good in it.” you confess, still laughing.

his head hangs into the crook of your neck as he laughs. “i know! i’ve been desperately in love with you as well, rachel and josh have been hyping me up for months to do that. they’re gonna be so proud of us.” you laugh with him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“we’re so stupid. i should’ve just made a move the first day i met you.” you say just above a whisper. “when you spilled your coffee all over me then tried to wipe it off with napkins?” you shove him off and turn your back to him.

“stop bringing that up!” “you brought it up first!”

[capseycartwright]

for my fellow merli girlies - do you remember the whole “all roads lead to bruno” line from the sequel series? well, i thought about that too hard and it caused this. enjoy!

all roads lead to eddie diaz

Eddie inclined his head slightly. “He is,” he hummed in response. “But it sounds more like you’re wanting to pick a fight here than discuss our mutual appreciation for how great a person Buck is.”

Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.”

or - eddie and tommy have a revelatory conversation about the buck of it all.

ao3 link

The thing is, Eddie doesn’t intend to say what he does. He blames Frank, in all honesty, because if Eddie was less in touch with his own emotions, perhaps he wouldn’t have said it at all – but Frank had worked hard to make Eddie a more open version of himself, a more confident version of himself, and Eddie blames the confidence for how it happens.

It’s a family barbecue. Eddie loves their 118 family barbecues. They’re chaotic, in the nicest way, Bobby and Athena’s garden full of children of all ages, teenagers gathered in the corner, pouring over whatever the latest game they have for their consoles is, Jee-Yun holding court with the littlest of their gang, enough toys to rival an actual toy store gathered around them. Bobby was grilling, Buck standing at his side, the two of them looking altogether very serious as they discussed whether or not the burgers were done yet.

Eddie loved their family barbecues – the way everyone had a role to play amongst the chaos. Eddie’s was to stay far away from the food – though he felt he had long-since redeemed himself on the culinary front – and so he was usually sitting with a beer in hand, observing. Maybe once upon a time it was in an ‘outside looking in’ kind of way, but now it was in more of an appreciative way – Eddie loved this family he had built for himself, the people he had found and the people who had helped him find himself. He liked to watch, drink it all in – because one day, Eddie Diaz would be old and grey (and it was a revelation in itself to want to grow old) and these will have been the good old days, and he’ll miss them, so he likes to observe, and try and commit it all to memory.

Eddie’s attention was drawn by a bright laugh from Buck, and he couldn’t help the way he smiled as he watched his best friend.

“He’s brilliant, isn’t he?” Tommy said, siding up to Eddie. Normally, it wouldn’t be unusual for Eddie and Tommy to discuss how wonderful Buck was – it had long since become a key bonding point of their friendship – but there was an edge to Tommy’s voice that surprised Eddie. Tommy was a fairly calm and collected guy.

Eddie inclined his head slightly. “He is,” he hummed in response. “But it sounds more like you’re wanting to pick a fight here than discuss our mutual appreciation for how great a person Buck is.”

Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.”

Eddie was quiet, for a minute. “Because I was good at hiding it,” he admitted. “Even from myself. I hid it for so long that I think people started to assume they were wrong to think I had ever felt that way about him.”

“But you do? Feel that way about him?”

Eddie shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like you want to know the answer to that.”

Tommy sighed. “I’m asking you – as a friend.”

“Then the answer is yes,” Eddie said. It still surprised him, how easily the words came now. It had taken so long for him to get to the point of being able to say it, the words coming out in a panicked rush during a session with Frank. It had felt like the most immense task he had ever undertaken, in that moment, but the words had started to come easier, since – when he’d told Hen, and Karen, over a bottle of pinot grigio, the words punctuated by some sad tears. He’d thought it had been too late, then, and Hen had gently reassured him that it would never be too late, not for him and Buck.

Still – it was the wrong time. Buck was with Tommy, and they’d been together for close to five months now, and Buck was happy. Liberated, even, free, and comfortable in himself in a way that Eddie had never seen before. His bisexuality had been the thing Buck had searched for his whole life, and who was Eddie to deny him the joy of discovering his queerness with a relatively attractive man who was kind to him? Eddie was in love with Buck, and in some ways, that love was what allowed him to take a more selfless approach to the whole situation. Eddie was proud of that.

Tommy’s face was doing something entirely complicated.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t want this to affect his friendship with Tommy – really, he didn’t. Eddie knew that if this all went the way he would like it to go, there would be hurt, but he’d sort of been hoping that Buck and Tommy’s relationship would come to its natural end and that hurt would only be momentary, the result of the strangeness that Tommy would feel if his ex-boyfriend started to date their mutual friend. But despite that, Eddie didn’t want to lose Tommy, and he knew Buck wouldn’t want to lose him either.

“Is it going to be a problem for you?” Tommy questioned, in lieu of a response.

Eddie shrugged. “No.”

Tommy’s face got even more complicated, confusion the clear emotion. “How – how is it not a problem for you?”

And this – this is where Eddie probably should have kept his mouth shut. In hindsight, he should have feigned some sort of migraine, and ran away, but he didn’t. Eddie let his newfound confidence get the better of him, and that was a very shiny, new problem for him.

There were lots of reasons it wasn’t a problem, but it all boiled down to one simple thing -

“I know he’ll chose me.”

The words were out, before Eddie could stop himself, and he couldn’t help but internally wince as he looked at Tommy’s face, the confusion turning to hurt, and then, well – annoyance. It wouldn’t be a nice thing to hear, Eddie knew, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt in saying it.

Eddie Diaz knew several different things to be true. The sky was blue, and he loved Christopher with every particle of his being. He was a damn good firefighter – and Evan Buckley would always choose him, over anyone else in the world.

Buck just didn’t know he was an option, yet.

“You sound very sure of that,” Tommy’s jaw was set in a hard line, his annoyance clear.

“I am,” Eddie said. “I want him to be happy, with you. I’m not going to try and ruin what you have. But Buck and I – we’ve been going somewhere for a long time, now, and neither of us were ready before. We’re not ready now, arguably. But I know we will be, one day, and so I know he’ll chose me.”

“All roads lead to Eddie Diaz, huh?”

“Something like that.”

Tommy was quiet. “I’m not going to fight you for him.”

“I’m not going to start a fight,” Eddie retorted. “It’s his decision.”

“Right.” Tommy looked as though he didn’t quite know what to say. “I am – I’m going to go and get another drink.”

Eddie watched as the other man walked away, and although it wasn’t particularly nice of him, he couldn’t help but smirk into the rim of his beer bottle.

The sky was blue, and Eddie was a happy man, now – and Buck would always choose him. He was sure of it.

He was looking forward to it.

[to-thelakes]

nothing but a pass time (lip gallagher x reader)

content warning(s); underage smoking, mentions of underage drinking, sad!lip, comfort, hints of angst (unrequited love)

summary; the summer had come around but you and lip were always the same. except it was harder to ignore your brewing feelings now.

series masterlist

i have edited and read this part over so many times that i feel like i'm not actually making it better anymore, so here it is! more of my babies, the next few parts are gonna get a little angst-heavy from both lip and reader's side but then i think it's gonna settle a bit and hopefully get a little better, i have the next three parts all partly/fully written and they're sad but also sweet (comfort is real and lip NEEDS iT, this poor man), so anyway, here's the new part hehe

“My dad would kill you if he found us,” You said as you rounded the corner with Lip. He had texted you, asking you to come and meet him. You didn’t mind. You’d been dying to see him after a too-long shift at the store. You had been there all day, sweating and dealing with shitty customers, and that one text was enough for you to be filled with a familiar sense of glee. 

You didn’t need a reason to see Lip, you never had but something about him asking to see you made you giddy. That text was enough to have you halfway out the door in minutes, changed, showered and beaming.

Though, that had always been the case.

The cigarette between your lips was new though. You had never been one for smoking but Lip had somehow gotten you into it. You only smoked with him though.

“They still think we’re dating?” Lip asked as you stopped by one of the pillars that held the El tracks up. The train only came every twenty minutes or so this late at night. So it was peaceful, quiet and you could smoke without being disturbed.

You were the one to plop yourself down first, feet aching from being on them all day. Working nearly a 10 hour shift was not for the weak and you were wondering why you’d bothered to do it to yourself.

“I dunno,” You shrugged as you took a drag of the cigarette Lip had handed to you. He sat down beside you, head resting back against the concrete. You let the smoke fill your lungs before you breathed it out into the night air. It was cooler than it had been all day, you didn’t feel like the air was suffocating you, just the cigarette, “Hard to tell with them at the moment,” You shrugged, the hint of something more beneath those words but neither of you dug into it. Lip simply nodded and you offered the cigarette back. He took it from between your two fingers and took a long drag.

He looked sad. You assumed that’s why he had even bothered you this late. He knew you’d been working all day and he had always used it as an excuse to keep to himself. But tonight, he seemed to want to see you. You were never going to deny him.

You hadn’t ever denied him anything.

You watched as he blew the smoke out through his nose and you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He briefly tensed up before relaxing. 

He had gotten so jumpy recently. 

You tried to ignore it.

“What’s up?” You asked after a moment of silence. He offered the cigarette to you but you waved him off. You could feel the nicotine buzzing through your system, not used to the high after nearly a week of not seeing Lip.

“Karen’s got this guy,” Lip said after a moment of silent contemplation, “Jody. Some fuckin’ asshole twice her age,” He explained, waving his free hand out. He then put the cigarette between his lips, breathing in the smoke and speaking as he exhaled, “Hasn’t even fucked her. She says it’s some Sex Addicts Anonymous shit. I don’t get it,” Lip said as he choked slightly on the smoke. You should have known this is where the conversation would go so you simply reached your hand out for the cig.

Lip passed it over without question.

Part of him hated himself for corrupting you. You had never touched a drop of alcohol until he convinced you otherwise. And you had resisted smoking cigarettes until one night a few months back at a party with him. 

You had been pretty drunk at that party and he had casually offered his cigarette to you. He hadn’t thought much of it, expecting you to shake your head and tell him to ‘fuck off’ as you always did. Instead, you had taken it from his fingers, taken a drag and coughed on the smoke. 

But that didn’t stop you from taking another drag.

Now every time he watched the smoke curl out from between your lips, he felt bad. Like he had doomed you to some horrible fate.

“And she said that they’re together and just sit under the stars and talk and shit. I mean, who does that?” He asked. You tried to bite back the reply that that’s exactly what the two of you did but you kept your mouth shut, “We’re teenagers. We’re meant to be fucking each other and doing stupid shit. Not- not watching cartoons and fucking cooking together. It’s- it’s just bullshit,” Lip was frustrated. You could tell and you couldn’t blame him. Not really.

Part of you just felt sorry for him. You knew that he had fallen for Karen but she never really shared those feelings. At least, not that you could tell. She liked him and she liked to fuck him but you were never sure if it was more.

Another part of you was happy she was fucking with Lip’s head. Maybe it made you spiteful but you wanted him to understand how it felt to have someone always keep you at arm’s length.

You tried not to think about that though. 

You were his friend. 

You were there to help him, not celebrate his pain.

“Are you still fucking her?” You asked after a moment. You weren’t entirely sure how to make Lip feel better. You weren’t well-versed in this shit.

He nodded.

“Yeah but it’s this guy. He’s a fucking asshole,” Lip bit back, cigarette hanging from his lips. You rolled your eyes and took the cigarette from between his lips to take a puff yourself. You stayed quiet for a minute, not sure what to say.

“At least you still get to fuck her,” You responded, trying to see the bright side. You wanted to make him feel better, “Clearly if they aren’t even fucking, it doesn’t mean that much. So, give it a few months and she’ll be past him.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, trying to ignore the truth in what you were saying.

Lip had never fucked you and you had always been nothing but a pass-time for him. A friend to cry to and seek comfort from but nothing more. You knew that you didn’t mean that much to Lip. Not as much as Karen anyway.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lip said as he glanced down to watch you blow the smoke from between your lips. You tapped the edge of the cigarette on your thigh, ashes flying through the air just as an El train passed overhead.

It was deafening but the noise gave you some solace. You hadn’t noticed Lip looking at you and so you let yourself feel the heaviness. It was just for a moment and then you put your guard back up.

But for a moment, you let yourself frown. Let yourself feel sad. Feel lonely. Feel fucking stupid.

Then you were back to normal.

Once the train had passed, you spoke again.

“The way I see it, he’s either gonna break up with her or they’re gonna fuck. Either way, she’ll come back to you,” You decided after a moment. You weren’t sure if it was true. You had no experience with relationships. You’d only ever kissed people drunk at parties so you were talking out your ass.

But Lip just hummed along and took the cigarette from between your fingers. He took another drag and then smushed the butt of it against the grass, putting it out.

“Everything okay with you?” Lip asked after a beat of silence. Your head lifted from his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked if you were okay. Usually, you told him anyway but he never asked.

“Yeah, why?” You responded, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He shrugged, meeting your gaze. Your eyes were boring into him and he felt guilty seeing the confusion. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his question as if you weren’t his best friend. As if he didn’t care about you.

“Y’just seem tired, that’s all,” He responded, shrugging. He was trying not to be defensive but it was hard not to be.

“Had a long day, it’s fine,” You retorted as you reached into the top pocket of his shirt. You didn’t ask before you grabbed the pack of cigarettes. Instead, you just plucked a stick out and grabbed his lighter. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Bumming a smoke,” You stated before you placed the cigarette between your lips. You used your hand to shelter the end of the cig before flicking the lighter on. The bright flame illuminated your face, eyes shining in the light. It was there for a split second before you had successfully lit the cigarette.

“You been smokin’ with someone else?” He asked. You scoffed, dropping the cigarette pack and lighter back into his pocket before you took a drag.

“Fuck off, as if,” You dead-panned as you exhaled. You then took another drag, leaving the cigarette hanging off your lips as you blew the smoke out of your nose. It was Lip’s turn to take the cigarette from your lips now. He made eye contact with you as he took it, placing it between his own.

Fuck. You hated when he did shit like that.

The way he looked at you like he really gave a shit.

You tried not to think about it.

“Good,” He said before he took his own drag. You two sat in silence like that for a while, sharing the cigarette. You knew it was bad for you. You had told yourself you’d never be a smoker but the summer was long and being around Lip was painful. The nicotine made it easier to deal with.

So you just smoked until Lip - once again - put it out in the dirt. He then just stared, another El train passing overhead. You were both quiet for a moment before you sighed. You needed to go home.

“Got work tomorrow,” You muttered after a beat. It was you saying you needed to leave without really saying it at all. But you did, you needed to get out of here.

“Stay at mine tonight?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Gotta leave early, starting at 6. Would just wake you up. You’re grumpy that early,” You stated as you looked up at him. He frowned. You didn’t know what else to say to him and so you just looked at each other for a moment.

“Want you to stay over,” He mumbled, looking away. You ran your hands across your face, wondering if you were really gonna let this happen. But you already knew the answer the second he had asked the question.

“Let me grab my shit,” You gave in. Lip couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. It felt like a victory, a small victory. 

[soupdwelling]

ITS TIME. this is my essay on why the chasity family are cannibals

okay so obviously this started with that one line from hatchet town “careful or your kids might end up on karens plate! she just ate!” but i like to imagine the “chasitys are cannibals” is just a running joke in hatchetfield, or maybe a rumor. most people don’t actually think they’re cannibals but it’s just something people say to get under karen’s skin because that’s fun.

but i like to imagine this rumor started with actual evidence of something. it’s not just like one day someone said “it would be funny to say this about karen lmao” it’s more like “possibly human remains were found in the chasity’s freezer but this is kind of a normal occurrence in hatchetfield so we’re just going to turn it into a joke”

ALSO. that one scene in npmd right before dirty girl and basically just every scene where the chasitys interact feels kind of off. its definitely giving the trope of “this a perfect utopia oh wait it’s actually really fucked up and dark when you think about it for a minute” like imagine in the dinner scene the “mouthful of mothers meatloaf” is fully some guys liver. and then karen chasity is like “oh i couldn’t have done it without you mark, you work so hard dragging all of these corpses into our basement!”

this also works with the “this is hatchetfield, people go missing every day” line because the chasitys are killing all of them and fucking eating them!! this can also account for why grace was so confident she’d get away with max’s murder because she’s so used to living in a cannibalistic murder family that it doesn’t cross her mind to worry. she just didn’t account for the fact that this specific murder would be more trackable because she didn’t yknow. eat maxs corpse so it was still there for the cops to find

grace’s entire personality in general is also really concerning! like, she’s fucking insane obviously! but why? she probably didn’t just pop out of the womb like that right? well, maybe it’s because she has been RAISED by crazy people. obviously her parents are very intensely christian but even the most devoted of christians don’t usually summon five eldritch demons to do their bidding. like! that is most definitely not normal! so it makes complete sense that grace’s insanity runs in the family they are cannibals they eat people

i promise i’m almost done but i would LOVE a nightmare time episode about the chasitys being cannibals i feel like that has so much crazy potential especially considering their personalities i just love the idea of a typical american christian family sitting down together for dinner and saying grace with someone’s fucking BRAIN on the plate in front of them. like that’s fucking insane.

could you IMAGINE a nmt episode of karen chasity seducing Ted and luring him into her home only for mark and grace to come bursting out of the closet wielding kitchen knives? i would kill to see that.