#i actually struggled a bit with nicks face

[scaradeus]

dad with a dog that he didn't want after a week.

[howdeepthegrave]

Modern Agathario AU where Rio arrives a bit early to collect Agatha for their third ever date and Nicky, of all people, answers the door. Rio knew Agatha has a kid, but she was not quite prepared to meet him this soon.

"You Nick?" she finally asks.

"I am Nicky. You Rio who is gonna take my mama to the golfing?"

"Uh, minigolf, yeah."

Rio can feel this four year old judging her.

"I like your hat," Nicky says.

Rio adjusts her baseball cap and smiles.

"I like your scrunchie."

"I don't like haircuts," Nicky explains.

They just continue to stand there until Agatha appears at the top of the stairs.

"Nicholas Andrew Harkness! You know you're not allowed to answer the door on your own!"

"Mama, it's only Rio."

Agatha rushes down the stairs and pulls Nicky back, smiling at Rio.

"The sitter's not doing such a good job of sitting, I guess."

"'S okay by me. Sorry if I got here too early or..."

"No, no, it's fine, come in."

There's a teenaged boy flopped on the sofa, frantically texting as tears pour down his face. Agatha looks livid.

"William, you're here to watch Nicky!"

"I... Oh, hey Ms. Vidal."

"Hey, William. You studied up for that quiz next Tuesday?"

"Uh, yeah. I just... I've been having a rough week. Eddie and I had a fight."

Agatha goes and collects her purse and pulls out a roll of cash.

"William, just go home, okay? Here, that's everything for tonight, but only because I'm a sucker for a sad kid whose eyeliner is running."

William takes the cash and bolts, leaving Agatha, Rio, and Nicky standing in the living room.

"I pro'ly can babysit myself, Mama," Nicky says. "I will watch good cartoons only."

Agatha actually laughs at that and bends down to pick her son up onto her hip.

"Rio, I'm sorry, looks like we'll have to reschedule..."

"Couldn't we just take Nicky with us?" Rio shrugs. "It's minigolf. He might enjoy it."

Agatha looks shocked.

"You'd... You'd be okay with that?"

"Sure. So long as you are."

So they all go out to minigolf together. They have a pretty great time, they eat a little junk food, which Nicky LOVES because Mama almost never lets him have junk food, and when Nicky is tired at the end of the evening, it's Rio who carries him back to the car because, as Nicky says, "You're taller than Mama, so we'll get there faster."

When they get back to Agatha's, Rio walks with them to the door and steps inside to wait while Agatha struggles a sleeping Nicky into pajamas and puts him to bed. Agatha comes back down to tell Rio good night and thank her for putting up with Nicky.

"It was a great night," Rio assures her, "and I hope we can do it all again sometime."

Most of Agatha and Rio's dates after that are just them, but occasionally Rio arranges something so Nicky can come along too. Sometimes it's minigolf again, but sometimes it's a museum or a walk in the park or any number of other fun family activities.

When Rio decides to propose a little over a year later, she talks to Nicky about it first, just to ask if he'll help. Agatha has made it clear if and when a proposal happens, she wants no big showy stuff. She just wants it to be like a normal day. So, Rio comes over one night to cook dinner for all of them, and she lets Nicky help her. Halfway through, she hands him something from her pocket.

"Go and take this to your mom and ask her what she thinks, mijo."

So Nicky takes the item to Agatha.

"Rio said to give this to you and you should say what you think of it, Mama."

Agatha takes whatever Nicky's handing her without really looking up from her book, but the moment she realizes it's a small velvet-covered box, her heart starts to race. She opens it, sees what's inside, and dispatches Nicky back to the kitchen with her reply.

"Rio, Mama says she'll take it. She says absolutely."

They get married that summer at their friend Jen's place in the Hamptons.

[chrissturnsfav]

dunno if u fw tay swift but.. imagine chris and reader at a party and like they are bestfriends but they are both secretly in love with eachother. and in the song “Dress” by taylor one of the lyrics goes like “i dont want you like a bestfriend. only bought this dress so you could take it off” so basicallyyy true love and looking into eachothers eyes in love missionary type sex 😛

if this would be a bit too long to write, i apologize but i am jot a writer and i cannot execute the idea myself 🙏

lovers > best friends ⋆₊˚ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

you and chris confess your love to each other through a taylor swift song, leading to a passionate exchange.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, fluff, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), passionate sex, friends to lovers, softdom!chris, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, finger sucking, creampie

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 1,756

the party is a blur of laughter, music, and neon lights that spill through the house. people are everywhere—dancing, talking, leaning into each other in dark corners—but your focus is on chris. it always is—especially with a few drinks in your system.

he’s standing next to you, holding a half-empty beer, his shoulder brushing yours every so often. each time it happens, it sends a quiet thrill through you, one you’ve gotten too good at hiding.

"so lemme get this straight," he says, grinning at you in that way that makes your heart trip over itself. "you actually thought karaoke at me, matt, and nick's birthday party was a good idea?"

you laugh, rolling your eyes, even though your face is already heating up as you talk over the loud music. “it was fun! everyone had a good time.”

"you sang lauryn hill and it was fuckin' horrible," he teases with a chuckle, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. "i don’t think anyone is over that yet."

"well, here you are, still bringing it up even though it was five months ago," you fire back, smirking. “seems like you were impressed."

his grin softens into something warmer, something that makes you struggle to breathe. "maybe i was."

you can’t tell if he’s joking or not, and it’s dangerous, this game you play. this flirting that feels too real sometimes, like it’s about to shift over into something else. something neither of you can take back.

the music shifts, and suddenly, "dress" by taylor swift is playing. the melody thrums in your chest, and the lyrics weave their way into the air between you.

i don’t want you like a best friend…

you glance at chris, and he’s already looking at you. it’s subtle, but his smile falters for a second, his eyes darker, more intense.

"this song," he says, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the music.

"yeah," you manage, trying to keep your tone casual, even as your pulse races.

he takes a sip of his beer, but his hand shakes just enough for you to notice. "it’s like… a lot, isn’t it?"

"depends on how you hear it," you reply, your voice steady, but barely.

his eyes flicker to yours again, holding your gaze for just a beat too long. it’s enough to make your chest ache, the unspoken words between you heavy and impossible to ignore.

"you alright?" you ask softly, leaning in so only he can hear you.

he huffs a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair that falls over his forehead so perfectly. "yeah, just…" he hesitates, his brow furrowing like he’s fighting himself. "i need to say somethin'."

your heart lurches. this is it. you can feel it, the edge of something inevitable.

"okay," you whisper, your throat dry.

he looks at you, his expression so open, so raw, it almost hurts. it feels like his usual confidence has diminished into something softer. "the lyrics are hittin' a little too hard," he hints. "i dunno if i want you like a best friend."

your breath catches, your grip tightening on your drink. “chris…”

"i mean, i do—" he stumbles over the words, his voice rushing now, like he’s afraid to stop. "you’re my best friend, and that’s fuckin' everything to me. but it’s not… it’s not all."

you blink, trying to process, trying to breathe. "not all?"

he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. "i’ve been tryin' to ignore it, but it’s you. it’s always been you. like..i dunno, kid. i guess i just don't wanna pretend anymore."

his words hit you like a tidal wave, washing over every doubt and fear you’ve carried for so long.

"chris," you say again, your voice trembling now, but he’s already shaking his head.

"it’s okay if you don’t feel the same," he says quickly, his eyes dropping to the floor. "just felt like i needed you to know."

you reach for his hand, your fingers brushing his, and he looks up, startled.

"you’re not wrong," you say, barely able to get the words out.

his eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at you like he’s trying to make sure he heard you right.

"this dress," you continue, your voice steadier now, but still soft. "i honestly only wore it so you’d notice."

the way his gaze darkens, the way his lips part like he’s about to say something but can’t find the words—it’s intoxicating.

"i noticed, ma," he murmurs, and his voice is rough now, full of something you’ve only dreamed about, and then he smirks. that stupid, sexy smirk he always does. the pet name sends shivers down your spine, ma, it rolls off his tongue as if he's been wanting to call you that all his life.

before either of you can think, before the moment can slip away, you grab his hand, pulling him through the crowd. he follows without hesitation, your fingers intertwined like they were always meant to be.

you weave through the hall until you reach a bedroom, pushing the door open and dragging him inside. the music fades into the background as the door clicks shut behind you, leaving just the two of you in the quiet space.

you barely have time to look at him before his hands are on your waist, his lips crashing into yours like he’s been holding back for years.

and maybe he has. maybe you both have.

his kiss is everything you’ve imagined and more—urgent but tender, full of all the things he’s never said but you’ve always felt.

his hands grip your waist like he’s afraid you might disappear, and you’re not much different, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

"fuck," he whispers against your lips, his breath shaky as he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes are wild, full of something that makes your knees weak. "i’ve wanted to do that for so long."

you laugh softly, the sound breathless and giddy. "me too. me fucking too."

he groans, resting his forehead against yours. "why didn’t we do this sooner?"

"we’re stupid," you say, grinning, your hand slipping down to rest on his chest.

you can feel the steady, frantic beat of his heart under your palm, matching your own. "clearly."

he laughs too, and it’s the best sound in the world, low and warm and full of relief.

"i was so scared," he admits, his voice quieter now. his thumb brushes your cheek, his touch featherlight but grounding. "scared that if i said anything, i’d ruin everything. that i’d lose you."

your chest tightens, and you shake your head. "nah, you could never lose me, chris. never."

"same goes for you, you know," you add, your voice soft but steady. "i was scared too. but i couldn’t stop thinking about you. couldn’t stop wanting you."

his lips curve into a small, almost shy smile, so different from the confident, teasing chris you know. "so, what now?" you ask.

chris answers your question when he has you flat on your back on the random bed, your dress hiked up to your waist, his jeans and boxers resting mid thigh. he's holding onto your thighs with a gentle yet firm grip, giving you slow, hard, passionate thrusts.

your arms are tangled around his neck, little, soft moans leaving your glossy lips, lidded eyes staring into his as he pants against your face with his forehead pressed against yours.

"you feel—fuck—feel fuckin' amazing," he groans softly, his lips ghosting yours, swallowing the little moans you breathe out.

you whine, your eyes rolling back. you knew chris would be good, all those stories about his hookups gave him a reputation, but you'd never think you'd ever be under him. you also never knew he would fuck you almost like he loves you, but not as a best friend—as a lover.

"chris," you gasp, arms moving to cup his face and cradle it in your hands, eliciting a whimper from his pretty lips. he moves one hand from your thigh to gently grip your wrist, moving his mouth to press a soft kiss to your palm that makes your body shudder.

"been wantin' this for so fuckin' long," he grunts softly, brushing his lips against yours making chills course through your body.

"m-me...too," you mumble through whines, pressing your lips to his jaw, sucking and kissing at his skin.

chris gasps softly, hissing in pleasure as he bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, "fuck, keep doin' that and you're gonna make me cum."

you let out a giggly moan against his jaw, laying your head back flat against the bed. "m-mmph," you whine, a little more high pitched as your back arches off the bed, your gummy walls squeezing his lengthy cock. "m-m'close...chris...close..."

he grunts above you at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing around him, tightening his grip on your thighs, his thrusts growing a little faster and sloppier, "fuuuck...gonna make me fuckin' cum, pretty girl...jesus..."

"c-chris—chris," you whine louder, your eyes rolling back as your jaw falls slack, a knot tightening deliciously in your belly, one you've felt before with other guys, but this time it's different. it's so much better.

"yeah, c'mon baby," he mutters, lidded eyes staring into your closed ones. he gently grips your jaw, brushing his thumb over your plush bottom lip. "open those pretty eyes f'me, wanna see you."

you force your eyes open, lidded and glossy with tears of pleasure, panting against his thumb as your walls squeeze around him tighter and your thighs begin to tremble.

chris smiles sweetly down at you as he gets closer, his thrusts even more uncoordinated and sloppy. "there she is, my girl," he groans softly, gently pressing his thumb into your warm, wet mouth.

his words make your body shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips as you cum. jolts of pleasure make your thighs shake, your nails sinking into his clothed back, "oh my god," you cry out in ecstasy around his thumb, your jaw falling slack, your eyes still on him.

"i know," he coos, groaning softly at your whimpers and pants as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, "o-oh, fuck, baby, fuck...shit..." he grunts softly.

his body shakes slightly, his hips stuttering as his eyes roll back and he grunts, his fingers digging into your thigh as he cums deep inside you. you've never felt so full, your wet pussy stuffed full of his cum making you whimper in pleasure.

after cleaning up, you both step back into the party, the two of you still glowing with the electricity of what just happened, everything feels different. brighter.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i'm not a swiftie so i hope i executed this well enough! also sorry if it was a lil corny eek.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart

@chrissturnsfav ™

[p1astr81]

the cove

In which: you and Oscar start your own restaurant, navigating the troubles of the unknown territory and the relationship between you. (au)

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

warnings: references to sex, no actual smut, use of y/n (once), lots of time jumps, bit of angst, fluff, more plot than romance lowkey

wc: 5.1k

an: I just rewatched the bear and can’t stop thinking about it so here I am

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧ * ‧₊˚ ‧

Milk crates were flipped upside down, making use of themselves as chairs for you and Oscar to sit on during your break. It was rare you ever saw a break—let alone a collective one—but it was a Wednesday night and the restaurant was seeing few customers.

“God, I smell like oil.” You grimaced.

Oscar laughed, leaving a beat of silence between you before speaking. “We should start our own place.” He suggested, his voice quiet, fearing your reply.

At first, you laughed. A loud, mocking laugh. But his face told you that he was serious. “Come on, Os. Be serious. Where would we get the money? I mean,” you scoffed, “we can hardly get by living off both of our wages.”

Oscar bit his lip, eyeing his polished black shoes. He knew you wouldn’t like his next suggestion. “You could always ask aunt Audrey.”

It was a known fact that your aunt Audrey was loaded with cash. With no kids, a rich husband, and rich herself, how could she not be? But she always offered you money whenever she got the chance. You declined every time. You weren’t going to be her charity work.

You shook your head. “Im not asking her.” You said with finality.

“Why not?! We could make something—be something!” He tried to bargain.

You got to your feet, walking away from him.

“Just think about it. You and me, a brilliant fucking restaurant that we built.”

Head shaking once more, you turned to face him. “I’ll owe her for the rest of my life. Do you realize that?”

He stuttered for an answer.

“I don’t want that.”

Oscar blinked, nodding. “Yeah. It was just a stupid daydream anyway.” He kicked a pile of trash, threw the door open, and disappeared into the kitchen.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Oscar had found sleep long ago, peacefully wiped out beside you.

You struggled to join him in the state. His ambitions plagued your mind. You felt like you were disappointing him with your rejection.

You turned over in bed, facing Oscar now. Even in sleep, you felt guilty about rejecting his proposal. He was so passionate about it.

Being shackled by the debt you’d owe to aunt Audrey was less than a desire for you. The longer you stared at Oscar, though, the less and less you felt bad about it.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Before work the next day, you’d told Oscar you were going out to run some errands. A bold faced lie.

Aunt Audrey answered the door after a long few seconds. It gave you plenty of time to run if you wanted, but the image of Oscar’s disappointed expression flashed in your brain, rooting you to the ground.

“Oh my gosh! I wasn’t expecting you!” She gushed upon opening the door. Her arms were around you in an instant, pulling you into her mansion of a house.

“Hey aunt Audrey,” you greeted.

She detected the way your voice wavered, and decided to ignore it for now. The both of you ended up in the garden, sat around a fire pit. “How are you, love? Has that Oscar asked you out yet?”

You laughed. “No, we’re just friends.”

She cocked her head, eyeing you with a suspicious expression. “That’s what Nick”—her husband—“said about us, too. No we’re married.”

You shook your head, an awkward laugh. “No it’s not like that, I promise.”

“Alright…” she trailed off, the tone of her voice indicating that she didn’t really believe you.

You shifted in your seat. “Well, he’s actually kind of why I’m here.”

Audrey perked up in her seat, brows raising.

“He brought up yesterday—last night, while we were on our break, actually—that, uhm…” you fiddled with your hands in your lap. “well he thinks that we should start our own restaurant.”

“Oh that’s exciting!”

You forced a laugh. “Yeah uhm but, well, neither of us have the funds and I hate to ask you but uhm…” you shifted in your seat once more. “Would you be interested in helping… financially? Uhm, we’ll pay you back in full, along with whatever interest you want to add on, and uh, we can give you some of the profit. Twenty five percent, maybe?”

Audrey smiled. “Of course I’ll help you out! Oh, this is so exciting, I’m so happy you decided to ask me!” She beamed, jumping up to hug you.

“Thank you.” You smiled, though it pained you.

She took up her seat again. “So how much are you thinking? Just so I can make sure I don’t buy too many bags.” It was meant to be a joke, but it made you feel more guilty.

“Well, we’ll need to buy a place first, then all the utilities and equipment and the stuff for the dining room and…” you didn’t realize just how much you’d need from her until now. “You know what, forget about it.” You waived a hand through the air. She frowned “it’s a stupid day dream. Not really realistic now that I’m thinking about it.”

You went to leave, but your aunt grasped hold of your hand. “Hon, I have so much money that’s just sitting around. Please I want you to use it.”

She directed you back to your seat. “It’ll probably be close to a million.”

All she did was nod. “As long as I get to be involved, you can have as much as you want.”

A smile was forced on your face. “Okay. I’ll get someone to write up a contract. Just let me know how much interest you want to put on it, and does 25 percent of the profit sound good?”

She looked at you like you had five heads. “Interest? And a fourth of your profit? Honey, as long as you pay it all back, I’m fine. We don’t need a contract.” She shook her head.

Damn her and her generosity. The guilt weighed heavier on your shoulders with every word she spoke. But who were you to argue with her and risk her withdrawing from the deal.

So you nodded, “okay,” you agreed.

You cant recall a time you ever saw Audrey smile quite so large. “How about some lunch?”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

That very same night, Oscar and yourself sat around your coffee table—a dining table wasn’t in your budget—eating the left over food that customers didn’t bother to pick up from the restaurant.

Oscar seemed especially down today. You didn’t doubt that it was due to you shutting down his idea the day prior.

You called his name softly and he looked to you with his brown eyes blown wide in interest. “I went to talk to aunt Audrey today.”

He dropped his fork. “What do you mean?” He urged.

“She’s agreed to help us with the restaurant.” You didn’t meet his eyes.

Oscar gave a quiet gasp. “But you said…” he shook his head.

“I know.”

“Well, I mean, are you sure about this?” He was hesitant to ask the question.

You took a shaky deep breath. “Yeah. She agreed to give us as much as we need.”

“This is amazing.” Oscar beamed, rounding the table to hug you.

Your nod put him off. Not quite convinced you were happy about this. “This is amazing, right?” He asked, a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Your strained smile did little to ease him, but he didn’t push it any further.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your free time disappeared, dropping to nothing. The hours not spent at work, we’re spent shopping around for a place that fit both of your visions. Most were either too small or not in an ideal location.

That was, until after a week and a half of searching, you found it.

The realtor stood at the door, allowing Oscar and yourself to enter before her. You stepped in first, glancing around the space, stunned at what your eyes laid on. You gasped, gaze finding Oscar’s after having done a 360 of the space. “Oh, Oscar, it’s perfect.” You smile was infectious.

He hadn’t seen you this happy in months. “Yeah?” He asked, slowly moving to join you at the center of the room.

You nodded profusely. “Yeah.” You confirmed. “How much did you say this one was?” You turned to the realtor.

“200k.” She answered simply. Your smile dropped, and following up quickly by saying, “but we could try and negotiate with the buyer to lower it.”

You nodded slowly.

Oscar didn’t have to ask you to know what you were thinking. The value of aunt Audrey’s money captivated your mind once more, as it had many times since beginning this journey.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

While the carpenters built a new wall to separate the kitchen from the dining room, you and Oscar got to painting. Most of the walls were coated in a light blueish-white. Except the back wall where the bar would sit against, which was being painted in a deep blue color.

Oscar dipped the paint brush back into the paint. He swiped it along the baseboards, careful to not paint them. The light wooden shade would go well with their plans for the dining room furniture.

The brush was dipped back into the bucket of paint. Too much paint. Oscar tried to shake it off. Good thing you set plastic down to protect the floors. The paint went everywhere, including on your face. A pale blue streak across your cheek.

“Oscar.” You called his name. Your tone questioned his audacity.

He looked up at you in curiosity. He tried, and failed, to hold back his chuckles.

“Oh you think this is funny do you?”

He broke out in uncontrollable laughter.

The pads of your fingers swiped across your cheek, collecting the paint. Your fingertips met his face, painting his face in a smear of the blue-white color.

He was no longer laughing, staring at you with his jaw dropped.

“Not so funny now, huh?” You replied, smug as ever, a smile of vengeance playing on your lips.

Blue paint from the can met Oscar’s finger, a purposeful gesture. The look he gave you was devious.

He stood, drawing closer towards you like a lion hunting down his pray. You held up a hand. “Don’t you dare.” His advances didn’t stop at your warning.

Cautiously, you backed away, careful of the paint cans that littered the floor. “Oscar don’t!” He chuckled, finger missing your face by mere inches. You ran for it, but he was faster.

His unpainted hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you into his chest. You tried to squirm away, but his arm around your waist held you in place. He laughed at your objections while he drew a tiny heart on your cheek. It tickled, drawing a giggle out of you.

With the proximity, you could see every detail of Oscar’s eyes; the streaks of gold that threaded through the brown and green. Mesmerized, lost in the way they shined when the rays of sunlight hit them just right.

He cleared his throat, reluctant to release you from his hold. “We should probably clean up. Gotta be at work in less than an hour.”

You nodded, tucking your hair behind your ears and stepping away.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It had been a month since Oscar and yourself began flipping the barren building into your own restaurant. It was coming together. The bar was built, walls put in place. The furnishings were all that was left.

As you were preparing a dish, you overheard two of your coworkers.

“Did you hear about that new place that’s opening soon over on everlake street?”

“Yeah, lucky bastards. Probably rich fucks who couldn’t care less about the food.”

You met Oscar’s eyes across the preparation table. He could tell you were uncomfortable. It wasn’t hard to pick up from the way you shifted on your feet, and the way your eyes flicked around the room.

“I feel like I’m a shit person.” You confessed in a hushed voice later that night, sitting next to him in bed.

Oscar sighed, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “If this is about what we heard earlier-“

“Not just them.” You interrupted. “But with aunt Audrey, too.” Your fingertips drew shapes on the back of his hand.

“Audrey is so happy for you. Why would she make you feel like a shit person?” Oscar leaned forward, observing your face fully.

You bowed your head. “You know how my parents put me through culinary school?”

Oscar nodded.

“Well, they resented me for it. Told me I was a waste of their hard earned money.” You shook your head, scoffing a laugh. “I don’t want the same to happen with aunt Audrey.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

“Hey Aunt Audrey!” You greeted her with a hug.

Another month had passed. The dining room was all put together. Boxes of alcohol sat at the bar. The kitchen was still coming together. The preparation table was really the only thing that was done back there.

“Wow it’s looking fantastic, honey.” She beamed, glancing around the room. It was the first time she came in.

You followed her journey to the kitchen. “You think?” You asked as she pushed open the door.

“Absolutely, love. Best investment ever.”

The sound of Audrey’s voice alerted Oscar, who had been overseeing the installation of the ovens. “Aunt Audrey,” he smiled, greeting her with a hug just as you had. When he pulled away, he went and stood beside you, an arm coming up to rest around your shoulders.

“What are you going to name the place?” She questioned.

You and Oscar exchanged a look. You shrugged. “We’re not sure yet.”

Audrey waved a hand through the air. “No matter. I’m sure whatever it is will be excellent.”

“Hey, there’s a guy out front who needs your signature.” One of the maintenance guys informed.

You nodded and excused yourself from Oscar and Audrey.

Oscar’s eyes lingered on you until you were no longer in his view.

“I’m so happy you guys are doing something good with all of that money. I was worried I would just carry it all to the grave.” Audrey laughed.

Oscar sighed. “Yeah. She feels guilty about borrowing it all.” His gaze drifted to the door you exited from moments ago.

A frown replaced Audrey’s soft smile. “Is that why she was insisting paying me interest? And giving me a fourth of the profit?”

The new information caused Oscar’s eyes to blow wide in shock. “I suppose so, yes.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Oscar and yourself put in your two weeks. The restaurant was near done. The only thing left was to get all of your food for a test run with family and close friends.

Well that, and deciding on a name.

“How about we name it something fancy? Y’know maybe it’ll make people want to come in then?” Oscar suggested. You’d been lying side by side on your living room floor for the past hour, throwing name ideas out there.

You hummed, an idea sparking in your brain. “Maybe we name it after aunt Audrey.” You suggested. You twisted your head to face him.

He did the same.

Your faces were so close. Each time one of you exhaled, the other could feel the heat of their breath. You could see every little detail of his face. How deep his dimples were. And that same golden glow of his eyes.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Oscar’s eyes had trailed down to your lips. The plush pinkness of them enticed him. It was like a magnet, drawing him closer to you without his knowledge.

He froze when he realized his advancements, and receded back to a safe distance. He gazed at the ceiling once more. “You’re my best friend, you know that?” His quiet words weighed heavy with the burden of his heart.

You laughed. A sweet noise to his ears. Like a liquid sugar. “I don’t think that’s what we were talking about.”

“No, yeah, duh.” Oscar breathed out a laugh. “Naming it after Audrey would be nice.”

The silence stretched, both of your thoughts being the reason for the lack of communication.

Though, your minds were on different topics. Yours—on topic of conversation—was focused on creating a name that would reference your aunt. Audrey’s? No, it doesn’t sound right. Too basic. What about using her last name?

Oscar’s thoughts were far from on topic. Instead of Audrey coursing through his mind, it was you.

“The cove.” You spoke, breaking Oscar from his daydreams.

“Her last name. Audrey Cove. The cove.” You explained.

Oscar smiled and nodded.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Opening night. The first display of your restaurant, serving your families and close friends.

You stayed in the kitchen, calling plates and managing the rest of the cooks. The best you could find.

Oscar was on the host stand, greeting your families and taking in all the praise for starting his own place. He was the more hospitable one.

The response was overwhelmingly positive from all those who came. You got in your head about it, though, insisting it was only because they were family. They were just being polite.

You didn’t see their faces when they tasted the food, though. Oscar did. He could tell their positive feedback was genuine. After all, visual reactions were always more reliable than verbal ones.

Audrey stayed longer than everyone else, tears welling in her eyes as she congratulated the both of you.

You and Oscar remained long after everyone had left. The dining room was dark. Only half the kitchen lights remained illuminated. You were both sat on the preparation table. Your topic of conversation was dependent on the future of the restaurant.

“So, Audrey told me something.” He began. You raised a brow at him, enticing him to continue. “She said you were pushing for interest on the loan, and that you offered a fourth of the restaurant’s profits.” The information was factual, but he spoke like it was a question.

You hung your head. “Yeah.” You confirmed.

“Why would you do that?” His tone indicated stupidity on your behalf. “We don’t have the funds for that. And even when we get started, we won’t have those funds for at least a year out!” He raised his voice in frustration. He couldn’t wrap his head around why you would want to plunge the both of you into a large gaping hole of debt.

“Don’t yell at me! You know exactly why I did what I did.” You shook your head. “I only went to her for you anyway. Just so I could help you make your stupid dream a reality.” You spit the words out at him, jumping from the counter and storming out to the dining room.

He called after you. You didn’t answer. He followed you out of the kitchen. “Don’t make this my fault. I didn’t force you to go to her.”

“Of course you didn’t! But I did this for you because I figured…” your breaths were erratic. “Y’know I figured…” you shook your head. “Forget it.” You blinked away the tears forming on your waterline.

You tried to leave, but Oscar caught hold of your arm. His grip wasn’t letting up any time soon, keeping you in place. “Figured what?” He asked, tentative and gentle.

Facing the ceiling, you tried to will this situation away, silently praying to the heavens to get you out of his.

Oscar’s hand slid down your arm, holding your hand in his. He gave it a squeeze. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” He paused. “I’m your best friend.”

A shaky breath was sucked into your lungs. “That’s exactly the point.” You confessed in a mere whisper.

“What?” Oscar asked. He heard you, but didn’t understand.

You built up the courage to meet his gaze. “I figured if I did all of this for you, that you would…” you took a deep breath. He was patient. “You would see me as more than a friend.”

The streetlights outside bathed his face in an orange glow, allowing you to see the shift in his expression. Eyebrows lifted, mouth agape, eyes widened. You knew you messed up when he dropped his hand from yours.

He cursed under his breath, taking a step back.

A nasty feeling brewed in your stomach. Bile threatened to inch it’s way up your throat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You repeated, shaking your head, trying your best to hold back tears. It’s like you could physically see him slipping through your fingers.

Oscar’s head was in his hands, refusing to meet your eyes. The further he withdrew into the restaurant, the more the orange glow faded from his figure. Like a visual representation of him fading away from you.

“Just forget I said anything, please.” You begged.

He looked at you like you were crazy.

“How long? How long have you felt like that and not told me?” His tone demanded an answer.

You shook your head, trying desperately to recall a time. You couldn’t. “I don’t know. Awhile.”

He cursed again.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin our friendship and everything we’ve built, please just forget about it.” The tears began to roll in silent streams. Your fear of losing him becoming too close to reality.

Oscar didn’t say anything. You were drowning in his silence. “I don’t want to be friends.” He shook his head. His words was the water filling your lungs.

You choked on your sobs. The sound seemed to flip a switch in Oscar. Suddenly, through the blurry tears, you could see him standing right in front of you. “Fuck, don’t cry.” He wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He started. “I meant,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “God, I fell for you the first time I laid eyes on you. Stupid cliche, but I never believed in love at first sight until them.” Finally confessing his truth, Oscar felt lighter.

You gasped a laugh.

“I never told you because I couldn’t bare the thought of rejection. Of losing you. It’s driven me crazy for years.” Oscar’s palms were warm against your cheeks.

“Years.” You sighed out.

He nodded, a stupid grin on his face.

Your hands pushed his hair out of his face, settling at the base of his neck.

Oscar went for it, dipping his head to finally feel your plush pink lips against his. And it was as close to heaven on earth as he’d ever get. It was inexplicably wonderful.

Years of built up tension snapped in that moment. You pulled him closer, heavy breaths exchanged through open mouths as the kiss became heated. He backed you up into a table, lifting you up to sit you on the surface.

His hands dug into your thighs while yours dipped underneath his button-up. He sighed into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers tracing the grooves of his toned body.

You pulled back; Oscar’s lips chased yours. “Probably shouldn’t have sex where our customers are going to eat.” You laughed, breathless.

Oscar nodded, chest heaving. “Yeah. Let’s get home.” He grinned.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Three months after your official opening, you’d wracked in a good amount of customers. The dining room was packed each night. The reviews were excellent.

Oscar burst into the kitchen one night, during rush. You knew it was important. “Jean Flavia is here.” He whispered in your ear.

Jean Flavia. An esteemed critic. In your restaurant. Your breaths came sporadically. Eyes darting around the kitchen. Blinking a million times in a minute.

Oscar placed his hand on the small of your back, rubbing tiny circles there. “It’ll be alright.”

You nodded, though the movement wasn’t done out of a conscious effort. “Okay. Get his order. I’ll cook it personally.” You scribbled his name down on a post it, all caps and a few exclamation points. You placed the little blue paper on one of the tables displayed on your whiteboard with the guidance of Oscar’s finger.

“Sadie,” you called one of your other chefs. She’d just sent out a dish. She was the only one who wasn’t currently occupied.

She was at your side in an instant. “Yes, chef?”

“Take over, will you?” You asked, already drawing away from the stand.

“Yes, chef.”

Oscar came back through the kitchen, making a direct line to you to deliver the order to you. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Oscar could tell. He squeezed your shoulder. “You’re an incredible cook. Just pretend it’s for any old customer.” His encouraging smile settled your nerves a little.

His presence was gone from the kitchen as soon as it came.

You took a deep breath, gathering yourself before you began.

The dish was simple enough. Beef tenderloin, grilled asparagus and roasted potatoes. It wasn’t anything wildly outside your comfort zone.

But as you started on the asparagus, fear of failure crept up on you. If you messed up, it wouldn’t only hurt you, but also Oscar. You didn’t want to hurt Oscar.

The tenderloin was tossed on a skillet beside the asparagus.

“How’s it going?” Oscars voice in your ear startled you.

“Please help me.” You weren’t ashamed to ask. Not when the establishment itself was at risk.

He jumped in as soon as you asked him, taking the reigns on the tenderloin. He was always better at cooking the meats compared to you.

All three components of the dish were completed at the same time. You shooed Oscar back to the floor, leaving you to plate the dish.

It was the most perfect dish you’d ever plated.

You handed it off to one of the waiters, following the young boy out to the floor. You found Oscar quickly, stood by the host stand. You went to join him.

The concern radiated off of you in overwhelming amounts. It was starting to infect Oscar.

His warm hand found the small of your back, thumb brushing in soothing circles.

You tried your best not to look like a stalker, but you couldn’t afford to miss Jean’s reaction. You watched intently as he cut into the beef, and as he brought the fork to his lips.

And after all that, he had no visible reaction. He simply scribbled some words down on a notepad and continued to go about eating his meal.

“What do you think that means?” You asked Oscar, hushed whispers.

“I guess we’ll have to wait to find out.” He sighed.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It was before hours, ten in the morning. Oscar was sat in the office when you returned with mail, shouting his name as soon as you set foot in the building.

He greeted you with a small, nervous smile. “Is that it?” He asked, glancing down at the newsletter in your hand. You nodded eagerly. “Well, let’s read it.”

The title of it was put simply. The name of your restaurant.

The Cove

While the name may lead customers to believe this is another bland seafood restaurant, it is much more than that.

The menu features a wide variety of flavors and options—something for everyone.

What is certainly more interesting, though, is the food itself.

I had the pleasure of receiving a meal cooked by the founders themselves, a young y/n l/n and Oscar Piastri, and I must say they have talent in the field.

The tenderloin lived up to its name, tender from the very first bite. The beef was mouthwatering, a perfect blend of seasoning to complement its natural flavors.

The vegetables were just as good. I don’t think I’ve ever had such delectable grilled asparagus and roasted spring potatoes.

Every bite of the meal was as good as it’s predecessors. It never fell flat for me, and I find that very hard to come by.

It would be foolish of me to call the food anything except for excellent. These two young chefs really know the art of the trade.

You gasped upon finishing reading, looking up at Oscar with a glimmer in your eye. “We’re excellent!” You cheered, jumping into his arms. You laughed as he twirled you around.

“I’m gonna bake a cake.” You declared when he put you down. You landed a peck on his lips, and he watched with a smile as you skipped off to the fridge.

While you baked, Oscar stood close, clingy as ever. He always had a hand on you in some way. Whether it was overtop one of yours, on the small of your back, or hugging you from behind. He was simply too happy to distance himself.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It’d been a month since the review was published. Reservations were booked out for months. You cried when Oscar told you, too happy to contain it.

You laid in his arms one night, watching ratatouille for the eighteenth time. “I miss cooking.” You confessed. Since the opening of the restaurant, you’d been in a manager position. The last time you cooked a dish was for Flavia.

Oscar’s arms tightened around you. “I’ve been thinking… desserts would be a good addition to the menu.”

Inclining your head to look up at him, Oscar could see the sparkle of passion in your eyes. “Are you saying…?” The smile stretched across your face made the muscles ache. You didn’t care.

“I can’t think of a better baker around.” He replied.

Twisting around him, you straddled his hips, dipping to slot your lips together. Oscar laughed into the kiss.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Two years since opening.

Aunt Audrey refused to take any more money after you paid a fourth of it back. The only thing she wanted was a guaranteed table whatever night she wanted. Her meals were always on the house.

But you did pay back your parents, matching every dollar they put into culinary school.

You and Oscar moved out of your one bedroom apartment, buying a big three bed, three bath house.

There was a shiny rock on your finger, too. A wedding in the planning.

“What do you think? Dark blue? Or the lighter more sky blue?” Squares of fabric were shuffled around the dining room table. You were trying to decide on a color scheme. What color dresses your bridesmaids would wear, and the color of the groomsmen’s suits or ties.

“Why not both? Maybe the bridesmaids can wear the lighter blue and the groomsmen the darker blue?” Oscar suggested.

You tilted your head, thinking it over. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I like that.” You nodded, beaming up a him.

“Perfect.” Oscar muttered against your lips before planting a small kiss on them.

[awhoreintheory]

okay so MCU canon Peter in DC is all funny and games but what about comic canon Peter? Peter who’s in his 30s, whose life is falling apart(again) and has clones to deal with(man I hate the fact that Ben became evil :(.)

extra points if Miles and/or Mayday is with him. This single dad is STRUGGLING. And the bats wanna help him/his kids cause man! Look at them :(

(extra extra points if Dick = Richard Parker. That’s a whole nother can of worms. Like the bats are thinking Peter = Family of Dick they didn’t know but NO! It’s actually Dick’s son! Dicks a granddad!)

I want to PSA to anyone sending asks/requests, I'm not ignoring you!! I'm just a slow writer!!! I hope you enjoy though <33

Peter B. Parker could, 100%, picture landing in (yet another) alternate universe. You know what? As a matter of fact, he expected it.

What he didn’t plan for, however, was being stranded in another universe with his baby girl strapped to his chest. 

But here he was, crouched in a narrow alley in the darkest corner of Gotham City, New Jersey. From the name alone, Peter knew he landed himself in a section of the Multiverse Miguel had expressly labeled as off limits. It wasn’t his fault he’d landed here, though!

One minute he’d been web-swinging through New York, enjoying a rare peaceful day with Mayday babbling happily, and the next he was crash-landing onto a grimy rooftop in the most dangerous city he’d ever seen. It was like New York turned up to eleven, all shadows and towering gargoyles, dripping with rain that seemed perpetual. The interdimensional bracelet he’d been given to travel the multiverse was sparking and smoking in his pocket— total toast. He was officially stranded. 

Ok, so it maybe, kinda sorta, been an eensy weensy, tiny bit Peter’s fault. 

Peter’s, very high-tech and likely expensive bracelet had been, uh, scratched in a fight the day before. Barely even a nick! He swears he could’ve reattached the wires and fixed the screen. 

He probably should’ve also taken the watch out of his robe pocket before he started swinging Mayday to daycare. 

MJ was going to be so mad. 

It became evident early on it’d take a little bit to find a way home, or for someone to find him. If it had just been Peter, he could’ve roughed it on some rooves and abandoned buildings. It wouldn’t be a big deal, he knew he would be getting home eventually. Being a little smelly was the least of his worries. 

But he had his baby girl with him. 

So, with the money in his wallet, he found an under-the-counter, rundown but otherwise warm, apartment in a place called Crime Alley. (What a seriously terrible name) Peter started pulling together whatever side gigs he could, fixing appliances, tuning up electronics, just enough to get by. Even for a guy who was used to scraping by, the situation felt bleak, especially with Mayday depending on him. 

His little red-headed whirlwind was still too young to understand what was happening, but she noticed the tension and started clinging to him more tightly. Peter knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, but he wasn’t sure how to trust anyone in a city that had both criminals and vigilantes lurking around every corner. When he spotted someone in a cape swinging overhead, he instinctively hid in the shadows, holding Mayday close, her tiny face tucked into his shoulder.

But the Bats noticed him. 

It was hard not to notice a single dad with no records, no job, and no explanation for why he was squatting in Gotham’s most dangerous neighborhood. Bruce, ever vigilant, put out word to the family to keep an eye on him. 

Jason, who patrolled Crime Alley, wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A guy moved into my turf with a baby?” he grumbled to Tim. “Either he’s got a death wish, or he’s crazy.” 

Tim, on the other hand, was fascinated by the mystery. He dug through every database he had access to, and then some. But “Peter Parker” returned zero results— at least, none that matched this Peter Parker. no criminal record, no birth record, no online footprint. It was like he just spawned in! 

Dick didn’t have a whole lot of opinions. He thought the man was nice, though he had only met him once in a routine mugging. He evidently cared for his daughter, and matched Nightwing’s wit and humor pretty nicely, too. He looked annoyingly familiar too. Maybe it was Tired Dad Chic? He kind of reminded him of Bruce, in a way. 

Steph seconded the funny part. This Peter guy could be one of those dark-humor comedians. 

From what they observed, and conversations supplied by Jason (who was his neighbor in a series of fortunate events), Peter really did seem to just be an ordinary guy.  

Then one night, Peter was picking up groceries from a corner store when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a man in a ski mask brandishing a knife, gesturing for his wallet. 

“Hand over the money, and I won’ hurt ya’ kid.” The man threatened, waving his knife around threateningly. Peter tensed, dropping his groceries in favor of cradling Mayday closer. 

Peter blinked at him tiredly. “The best I can offer is some lint and a can of beans.” 

The man tensed, stepping closer in an attempt at intimidation. Peter thought that his face turning red with anger was kind of funny.

“Don’t fuckin’— are you makin’ fun of me?” The man fumed. Peter might have let out a sleep-deprived chuckle, partially forgetting to respond. 

The mugger lunged, and before he could dodge, Peter felt a searing pain in his side as the blade plunged in, his vision blurring with the shock. Normally, Peter would’ve disarmed the guy without breaking a sweat, but tonight, with Mayday in his arms and his body worn from days of restless sleep, he kind of just… blinked and the knife was there. 

Peter blinked again, then looked back up at the man.

“Oh, wow,” he said, his voice dripping with deadpan sarcasm. “A knife in Crime Alley? Super original. Really, I’m honored to be a part of your creative process.”

The mugger blinked, clearly caught off guard. Peter rolled his eyes, adjusting Mayday to better apply pressure to his side. “Next time you stab a guy, maybe aim for someone with insurance.”

The mugger stumbled back, looking increasingly confused by Peter’s lack of fear. Peter sighed, bouncing Mayday gently as she began to fuss. “Listen, I’m already running on no sleep and the caffeine fumes of yesterday’s coffee. And now you’re just making my night even worse.”

Peter winced, feeling the slow but consistent leak of blood. His healing factor was helping, but it was dulled due to lack of sleep and hunger. 

Between one long blink and the next, someone had jumped down and knocked out Peter’s would-be mugger. 

After another blink Peter realized he was on the ground, Mayday’s wails filled the air, her cries echoing down the alleyway, and Peter tried to smile through the pain. “It’s okay, baby,” he mumbled, clutching her tightly. “Daddy’s fine… just a little… scratch.” But his vision was going hazy as he pressed a hand to his bleeding side. The world began to spin.

One of the vigilantes that Peter recognized as Red Robin rushed over, talking hurriedly into a comm. Peter blinked up at him, his mouth curling into a weak smile. “Hey, nice costume,” he muttered. “Does the utility belt come in dad sizes?” 

Red Robin blinked in surprise, but otherwise keept his focus as he worked to stop the bleeding.

“It doesn’t, unfortunately.” Red Robin offered, popping open his emergency med kit. “I’ve got help on the way, ok? Stay awake for me.” But his attention was snagged when Mayday, overcome with distress, reached out to him, her tiny hands gripping his arm. She wasn’t just clutching it— she was sticking to him, her fingers locked like suction cups on his suit. Tim’s eyes widened as she scrambled up his arm, scaling it like a bug on a wall. 

Red Robin took it in stride, scooping Mayday up as he continued to work. Peter had been on the Meta radar for a bit— a few things here and there just a little off, and it was mostly based on Red Robin’s time spent with super-powered individuals. 

But as he patched up Peter, he discreetly swiped a sample of blood, stashing it in his belt just as the Batmobile pulled up. 

—

Later that night, he ran the sample through the Batcomputer, expecting some small lead. A Meta, possibly insect-based? What with how the kid had stuck to him. Instead, the results left Tim absolutely speechless. 

Peter Parker, the man who was in his early 40s and a single father, didn’t just match someone in the system— it matched Dick Grayson.

Not as a brother, or a cousin, but as a son. 

Tim must’ve ran the test at least 100 times. It came back the same every single time. 

Tim called Bruce and the rest of the family, each of them crowding around the screen with varying levels of shock and amusement as the analysis rolled in. Dick was dumbfounded, staring at the results in disbelief. 

“You’re telling me this guy is my… son?” he stammered, struggling to wrap his mind around it. 

Bruce, socially unaware in all his glory, tried to comfort Dick. “He’s likely from far into the future. Barry said there was a ripple in the timestream around the time Peter showed up.” 

“So what does that make Mayday?” Jason asked, snickering. 

“His granddaughter?” Steph said with a teasing grin. 

“Wow, Dick. You went from a dad to a grandpa in the same minute.” 

“That’s gotta be a world record.”

“You think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record?”

Dick groaned, rubbing his temples as Jason laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“He’s from the future, right? Something must’ve gone wrong on his end," Tim said, folding his arms with a thoughtful look. "He’s definitely got the skills. Moves like you, Dick. It's obvious he's had training.”

Dick couldn't help but smirk, puffing up a little with pride. “Of course he does. He’s got Grayson blood in him, after all.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, because the whole ‘falling on his face with a baby strapped to him’ bit? So graceful.”

Tim rolled his eyes, trying to stay on track. “Look, I don’t know why he didn’t come to us for help in the first place, but the point is, he’s family. We should get him back to his time, if that’s even possible.” He looked over to Bruce. “Are any speedsters available? Maybe the League could lend us Wally or Barry—"

“Hold on,” Dick interrupted, frowning. “I’m not sure we’re ready to ship him off just yet. The guy’s been trying to make it on his own. He’s got a baby to look after, and I think he’s afraid of dragging us into whatever’s going on with him. You know this family and their pride.”

Damian, who had been silent up to this point, finally piped up, his arms crossed. “I’ve seen him with the baby. She’s… persistent.” There was an almost begrudging respect in his tone. “But he clearly doesn’t have the resources to keep her safe here. If he did, he wouldn’t be living in Crime Alley.”

Dick nodded. “Exactly. The guy’s holding it together with duct tape and dad jokes. We can help him and get him back on his feet while we figure out a way home.”

Bruce, listening intently, finally spoke up. “He’s right. Until we find a way to get him home, Peter and his daughter stay here. We’ll pull together whatever resources we can to help them both.” 

Steph and Tim shared a look. He just wanted to meet his grandson and great-granddaughter. 

There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed the decision, and then Tim looked at Dick, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So… you ready to be a dad, Dick?”

Dick flushed, looking a mix of horrified and pleased. “I’ll just stick to ‘Uncle Dick’ for now. Baby steps.”

EXTRA:

“Hey,” Jason drawled, barely suppressing a smirk as he looked over at Dick, “you think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record? Fastest unplanned parenthood, or maybe most confusing family reunion?”

Dick rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide his grin. “Very funny, Jay. Maybe we can submit you for most inappropriate comments per minute.”

Jason chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just saying, man, it’s impressive. One day you’re Nightwing, lone acrobat extraordinaire, and the next? Boom— you’re the proud father of a scruffy, interdimensional— what'd you say it was, Tim? Spider-dad? A Spider-dad.”

Tim snickered, glancing up from his laptop. “We’re all just living in a 'Strangest Family Reunion’ reality show at this point. Besides, if anyone’s submitting to Guinness, it should be Peter for most relentless optimism under terrible circumstances.”

Bruce cleared his throat, giving them all a look. “Enough. This isn’t a joke. We have a situation to handle here.”

Dick, still grinning, turned back to Bruce. “All right, fine, we’ll save the record-breaking for later. Right now, I say we start by finding this guy and getting him some real help.”

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you?— matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

author’s notes: it’s a love triangle? yes, but it also has enemies to lovers and lots of nick being a sassy king, so give it a chance, yeah? anyway, for now, just releasing the first chapter and if you guys enjoy it, i’ll keep writing. that’s it, girls! have fun. :)

tag list: @sleepysturniolo (the first person to join my tag list, i’ll always be grateful to you. <3)

chapter one.

the fact that you didn’t get along with matthew was not just a rumor around his fans, it was indeed the truth. you both never talked, not even on videos you’ve participated in with him and his brothers, which are the closest people to you ever since you moved to LA, so avoiding him was impossible as all you did besides working was hangout with them.

that night, chris and nick invited you for a sleepover, since you were away for two weeks and both of them missed you a lot. it started smoothly, you guys had snacks, junk food and soda. all three just chatting and laughing, matt didn’t leave his room the whole time, which you weren’t complaining, but right after you laugh out loud about something stupid nick said, matt comes out of his room and sees you there, laying on the couch, he groans and goes back to his room, slamming the door.

“there he goes.” you roll your eyes shoving another chip in your mouth and sighing. “seriously, what’s his problem?” you ask chris and nick with a serious look, nick just gives you a small shrug as he takes a sip of his soda.

“going through puberty again at the age of 21? i dont know, dude.”

“whatever.” you murmur, not wanting to talk much about that asshole. he was so hard to read and hated you since day one with no plausible reason. so you started hating him back, simple as that, just mirroring the hatred he gave to you.

chris just shrugs as well and place a leg over yours, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “ignore him, he’s always like that.”

“getting touchy, are we?” you joke, laying your head on chris’s shoulders and trying to change the subject as soon as possible. he just chuckled, blushing a tiny bit. the poor boy quickly tries to hide it by covering his face with his hands and laughing.

nick rolled his eyes at his brother’s blushed face, he was used to see you both being physically close but he couldn’t keep his comments for himself. he’s always saying you’re clingy with people you loved and that chris was even worse than you.

“get a room, you two.“ he grabs his phone and starts playing a game. “and chris, you should stop. it’s getting embarrassing for you, just tell her you crush hard.”

“oh…” you smirk at the boy hugging you and poke him on the nose. “is that so?”

chris’s cheeks were now tinted with rosy pink, he was even more embarrassed because he’d rather die than face his own feelings for you. nick just started laughing loudly, still focused on his phone.

“can you guys keep it down?” you hear a yell from matthew’s room, making you stare at chris and nick, they both had the same expression as you and after two seconds trying to hold a laugh, all three of you just lost it.

“he’s going through puberty and acting like a 60 years old at the same time, like dude, just pick a struggle.” nick whispers, you guys laugh even harder and the door suddenly cracks open, matthew was poking his head out of his doorway looking at you, he seemed pretty pissed off but instead of making you feel uncomfortable, you actually had the urge to bother him more.

“hey, guys! c’mon, have some compassion, little matthew here is not used to human interactions, this is probably scary for him.” you can’t help but tease, it’s been always like this. you couldn’t hold your tongue when it comes to annoying matt, knowing damn well he hates your guts.

nick started to howl with laughter, his whole body reacted which makes him fall off the couch, he was always so dramatic. you and chris widen your eyes, but not for the same reason. what made yours almost pop out of your face was the loud noise of a door closing and heavy steps getting closer. matthew just stomped out of his room, right up to you, his eyes darkened with rage, his face all flushed from anger, and it didn’t help he decided to stand incredibly close, towering you.

okay, that was unusual. he never really engaged your mocking tone besides some comebacks which usually lead to more teasing until eventually he just starts ignoring you. but now he’s standing right there, as a matter of fact, almost inches away, this is probably your first time staring at him up close, even being able to smell his perfume.

something inside you wants to run away, you don’t know what to do with your heartbeats racing, but of course, you could never let him notice. so you stare right back at him, crossing your arms. “that’s the closest you’ve been to a girl, isn’t it?” nick place a hand over his mouth trying to hide a really loud laugh from your comment, still on the floor for some reason.

matthew’s face somehow got even redder from your comeback and chris now sits up straight, watching carefully the two of you.

“yeah, no girls would ever come near me, right?” he said it in a sarcastic tone as he leans a bit more into your face, trying to intimidate you, but it wasn’t working at all. you weren’t the type to feel threatened by men, by anyone, actually.

“unless they need a loser to friendzone.” well, that was a little mean, even for you. but to be fair, you didn’t know how to handle the new emotion of being face to face with him. it wasn’t exactly scary, but definitely a new kind of interaction, so the thoughts were sort of going all places, despite that, you stayed collected and not raised your voice once, matthew on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to hide anything, you could see a small twitch in his face and his lips trembling. he was definitely acting by impulse, which you weren’t sure of but his next move just confirmed that.

he leaned in even closer, still towering over your seated figure making you smile ironically. not so hard to read from up close, huh?

“what did you say to me?”

nick was still laughing, not being able to even breathe properly while chris just watches you and matt, getting a bit nervous. he ponders if he should interfere, things never got this far before.

“i’m not repeating myself.” because your faces were so close, you could see every little reaction, the way his blue eyes were telling you so many things at the same time, every sparkle of anger shooting fire at you, even his body language slowly changing. that made you smile even more, noticing a little part of you enjoying it way too much.

you words affected him again, it looks like he was determined to shut your mouth by invading your personal space, so he once again, leaned even closer nearly brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“i’ve had enough of your sassy ass comments.” his warm breath hits your face, making you shiver. your arms still crossed across your chest and unbothered expression painting your face.

“then why don’t you back off and go to your room? it’s what you usually do, isn't it? run away when you don’t know what to say.”

he clenched his jaw tightly, as his hands ball up into tight fists, you could see veins starting to pop up, as he was getting more pissed. but he doesn’t back off, in fact, he starts to lean in a bit closer, the space between you two starting to shrink little by little every second.

“oh please, i’d much rather talk to you.”

nick immediately stops laughing as he gets up from the floor, almost as if he wanted to say something. chris raises an eyebrow, he was about to put a stop on that situation.

“trust me.” you smirk, he was challenging you, it was also pretty fun to see matt get so worked up over a few tease words, yet for a second, you thought about letting it go, take a step back and not make the atmosphere awkward for nick and chris. but the tension was… stirring. the idea of getting this type of reaction from him without doing much was actually weirdly good. so you allow your demons to control your actions, loosening one of your crossed arms and bringing a hand to his chin, gently turning his head slightly to the side, just enough to reach your lips to his ear.

“i know you love talking to me.” from the moment you spoke into his ear, a shiver ran down his spine making him subconsciously close his eyes, letting out a small exhale from the feeling of your breath on his ear.

nick’s eyes are wide, he can’t believe this was actually happening in front of him. chris just bite his lips trying hard to control himself. the room is quiet, matthew swallows hard, as he slowly open his eyes, looking down at you. he wanted to say something, he really did, but words failed him. his face was now really hot both from anger and fluster, the warmth of your hand holding his chin, your voice, your breath on his skin, the words you whispered into his ear, which had echoed through his mind. it was all he could focus on, nothing else mattered right now and to make things worse, this was entirely his doing, so he couldn't blame you or anyone else.

chris notices the look on his brother's face and he had to admit, it was a bit unsettling to see matthew so flustered over you.

nick was smirking, though. he knew about the tension between you two a long time ago and although it was expected that matthew would react one day, never in a million years he thought that it’d actually go like this.

everyone is still in complete silence, the only thing you could hear was the sound of matt’s shaky breath. he slowly looked over the couch, noticing that chris and nick were both watching everything, then he looked back down at you, having a sudden epiphany. he never really saw your face from that distance, deep down he thought you were pretty, but this was his first time actually being able to see the colour of your eyes properly, your nose and of course... he drift his eyes down to your lips, they were seductive and very… tempting?

a very dangerous thought crosses his mind and before he could resist, he moved closer, the small space between you both quickly closing in.

holy shit. you think to yourself, holding in your breath. was matthew really doing it? was he… about to kiss you?

for the first time ever nervousness hits you, but there’s not even a chance you would lose this match, so you don’t move an inch and stare right back at his lips, hand still placed on his chin.

“what the fuck?!”

both chris and nick finally yell, they didn’t know if they should laugh or freak out, more like nick laughing his ass off and chris freaking out, but that’s not the point, this situation was rather ridiculous, you two never set a foot close, not even greeting politely every time you hangout at their house or when they force matthew to drive you three around, as he’s the only one with a license and paying an uber was too bothersome. anyway, there was never an interaction besides bickering. but suddenly, you were both having an argument filled with sexual tension and now matthew is about to kiss you? that was too much for them to handle, for all of you to handle, actually.

matt is not listening to anyone, he ignores his brothers yelling, his eyes were only on you as he was about to do something he’s never thought about doing before. he wanted to kiss you? no. he shouldn’t. he despised you for a lot of reasons, but suddenly, in this moment, it’s almost like he couldn’t remember a single one. his eyes dart between your eyes, and lips, both getting closer by the second, just as his lips are about to brush against yours, he freezes, realizing what he’s doing. the boy takes a small step back from you, his whole face going red and this time not from anger. he glances at his brothers shocked faces and curses at himself, it felt like he lost control for the first time and he hated it.

matt never loses his cool because of your stupid teasing tone, but what is this now? you got the best of him and his first instinct is to kiss you? that was too much for him to process, so he abruptly goes back to his room and shuts his door locking it as if that was going to block the thoughts of you in his head.

“well… that was new.” you say, still confused with the whole situation that just happened, but you weren’t the only one. his brothers were speechless, they were not expecting that at all. like said before, nick did expected a reaction, but definitely not that type of reaction.

both of them had bugged eyes and their mouths partly open in shock from what they just witnessed, still staring at the ghost of matthew in front of your face. after a minute, nick finally breaks the silence.

“am i tripping or he was about to kiss you?”

he asks, mouth still open in a dramatic way.

“yep, he was definitely about to kiss her.” chris replies, his tone is quiet but he seemed a bit annoyed.

“so i wasn’t hallucinating, right?” you ask, still trying to control your heart. the sensation of his breath against your face and his perfume still all over you not helping. “did i tease him too much?” you ask them, even though it was rhetorical. “like, to the point where i broke him and he just… lost it?” nick laughs from your question, shaking his head.

“more like teased him so much he wanted to pin you against the nearest wall and—“

“nick!” you and chris yell at the same time.

“what? i’m just being honest!”

you shake your head with the thought of what nick just said, this was matthew you were talking about, the guy that hated you since day one for no reason, the one who says mean things out of nowhere and gives you dirty looks randomly. oh, let’s not forget about the day he said on a podcast he would rather die when the host asked him jokingly if he was secretly into you.

“you’re being crazy.” you finally reply, trying hard to deny whatever you are feeling and nick laughs again, then rolls his eyes a bit.

“please, i saw the look on his face when he was close to you, no one can’t deny it. the amount of time you both spend teasing each other, not to mention the childish fights ever since you two met clearly did something to his brain. i’m pretty sure he secretly got a thing for you.”

chris was quiet, he had a lot in his mind.

“yeah, it’s called hate.” you say giving the same eye roll back to nick and he just laughs again. this whole time he was just laughing, having the best day of his life.

“have you been reading those gays enemies to lovers books again?” you tilt a brow, hoping he couldn’t notice the way you were trying to drop the matter. “seriously, that’s not how it works in real life, nick.”

the boy rolls his eyes and scoffs. “pfft, you’re funny. i didn’t even know what that meant before we made those fanfic reaction videos. i would never read something like that for real.”

“you’re telling me if i go through your kindle right now i won’t find a single book about it?” you pretend to get up, smirking and nick’s eyes widen slightly as he swallows hard.

“oh, you wouldn’t dare!”

chris bursts out laughing and throws his head back, feeling better about how things went back to normal so fast, he wanted to forget the earlier event as soon as possible.

“where is it?” you actually get up now, looking around the living room and trying to hide your laugh. nick immediately stares at his kindle sitting on the table in front of the couch and he tries to grab it before you could get to it, but you were faster.

“absolutely not!” he yells, thanking his genes he was stronger and taller than you or things would about to get really embarrassing for him.

“that’s what i thought.” you say with a mocking tone, enjoying the satisfaction of watching nick panicking. chris almost in tears at this point while nick groans and sighs in annoyance, realizing he just exposed himself by acting so defensive.

he just sits back down on the couch, mumbling stuff to himself and hiding the kindle underneath his shirt. chris finally stops laughing and catches his breath meanwhile you make your way back to the couch, catching a glimpse of a portrait hanging on the wall, it was all the three of them smiling and hugging each other dearly. you stare at matthew, noticing how his smile was peaceful. you don’t even think you ever saw him smiling before, not around you, at least.

and then the flashbacks of what just happened minutes ago washes all over your head, making you bite your lips to control any further body reactions. you consider the possibility of going home and cool off. but your best friends are way too smart to be fooled by a shitty excuse, plus it’s been a while since you guys had a sleepover, so you brush the thoughts off and throw yourself on the couch again, grabbing your phone. chris and nick noticed you staring before sitting again, nick look over at the portrait, knowing you were probably thinking about their brother and chris just takes a sip of his pepsi, lost in his own world while nick debated if he should speak or not about that.

“he hasn’t always been like this, you know…” he begins talking with hesitation, he didn’t know if that was the right thing, but it’s about time for you to know the truth.

“sure.” you reply not believing him at all and he just laughed, deciding that he should tell you more.

“your sarcasm is so funny.” he says ironically and then continues talking still staring at the portrait. “believe it or not, he used to smile a lot as a kid. he actually had friends and got along with almost everyone.”

fuck. you always tried your best to change subjects everytime the conversation was about matt, and you usually succeeded but nick was pretty motivated to talk about it this time, maybe trying to help you understand his brother? honestly, if none of that has happened today, you’d probably just make stupid comments about it until nick gives up. but you were curious. the idea of a non grumpy matt was definitely interesting to say at least. you tried to imagine him smiling at other people besides his brothers, having friends and getting along everyone, it seemed unreal. but then again, you never really noticed him before. he could be a fucking clown if he wanted to, you wouldn’t know because you tried your best to avoid contact with the guy all the time.

“really?” you ask, half pretending not to be interested, half not being able to hide your shocked expression. “i thought he was born that way.” you can’t help but joke, that’s your way of coping with uncomfortable situations. “so what happened?” you ask before you could stop yourself, nick sighs and looks at you.

“i guess it started back in middle school. even though he was a quiet kid, most of our classmates liked him. but middle schoolers are fucking mean, you know? some boys would constantly make fun of him because chris and i were extroverts and he wasn’t. we tried our best to protect him, it worked for a while… but then we got to high school, some of our classes were different and one day at lunch break, we couldn’t find him anywhere, we didn’t think too much of it, assuming that he just went home earlier. that was a huge mistake because we always tell each other everything, we shouldn’t have assumed… i shouldn’t have…” he closes his eyes for a second, his voice was tremulous and your face softened, feeling empathy and a little sad. you could tell he blamed himself a lot. “but when chris and i got home, he wasn’t there. we called him multiple times through the rest of the day and by the time it was dark, our parents were about calling the police when he got home with bruises all over his face and swallowed red eyes. we asked him what happened and he just told us to drop it, not wanting to make things worse, we sort of just… let it go.” nick pauses to swallow the knot inside his throat and finally finishes the story he never told anyone about. “after that day he just shut down. he’s still the same around me and chris, but got cold towards other people.”

nick lets out a sigh, you could tell chris didn’t want to talk about it and how nick just stared at a random corner of the living room, probably thinking about matthew. for a while, you get lost in thoughts, debating if you should say something nice or try to light the mood by your typical stupid jokes. and then… you thought about matt, he definitely went through some bad things, which makes you feel guilty for all the teasing, but again, that doesn’t excuse his behaviour and how he treats other people, including you.

“i see…” you finally break the silence. “i guess he’s a bitch with a backstory, huh?”

both chris and nick burst out laughing at your joke, thanking you mentally for not making the sleepover some kind of lame sob parlour.

“he’d kill you if he heard you saying that.” nick says laughing and chris nods his head agreeing, nick continues. “he’d probably haunt you down, kill you, then bury you somewhere in our backyard and pee all over your grave.”

you three laugh loudly, making your tummies hurt.

“oh no, i think i’m done interacting with him today.” your blurt it out without thinking, nick wasn’t stupid, it only took a few seconds before he noticed the way you worded what you said, a small smirk appears on his face.

“so you’re saying you didn’t enjoy him being so close to you like that earlier?”

chris looks back and forth between you and nick, listening to every word and trying to catch any reaction of your face that indicates you actually liked it.

“i’ll ask you a better question.” you reply, trying to avoid answering it by joking around, like always. “one: why didn’t you let me go through your kindle, two: is it enemies to lovers AND smut? be honest.”

nick turns bright red, the question caught him off guard and made chris almost choke on his own soda in disbelief. nick glares back at you, his face still red as he tries to deny it, but then he groans and just gives up.

“fine, i’ll tell you! but no a single soul out of this room can hear about this, alright?” he says quietly, almost as if other people were listening. “can’t let my reputation of being an unbothered gay king be ruined.”

you sigh out of relief, it worked. nick was such a yapper that changing subjects without him noticing was really easy because he was always ready to run his mouth. chris, however, had a hint and noticed your behaviour changing ever since the incident with matt. he wanted to say something, but it wasn’t his place. in fact, he didn’t say a word after what happened. you also noticed he was weirdly quiet, but too much was in your head already.

“what reputation?” you ask to hit a nerve and laughs when he dramatically open his mouth, placing a hand to his chest.

“are you trying to say i’m not a bad bitch?”

chris just bursts out laughing, enjoying watching you tease nick and his dramatic ass reactions.

“not using this exact words, but yes.” you reply, smirk growing in the corner of your lips. the tension of your body was fading away and that made you relax a little. nick’s mouth got even more wide open, he grabs a random pillow from the couch and throws it at you.

“you take that back right now!!” chris laughs even harder at the scene unfolding in front of him, he’s enjoying it too much.

“never!” you laugh out loud, throwing the pillow back at him. “you can’t handle the truth!!!” you try to do an impression of jessup from the movie a few good men, but fails really hard because your voice couldn’t reach the low and strong tone. nick shakes his head cringing painfully and laughing at the terrible impression.

“never do that again!!!” he yells. “that was so bad, actually painful to listen to, a fucking insult to nicholson.”

“shut up.” you rolls your eyes and suddenly they feel really heavy, you can’t help but yawn making nick raise a brow.

“you tired already? you are such an old person, it’s like 10pm and you’re just dying there.”

chris nods his head, agreeing with nick’s words and laughing at your offended facial expression. he secretly wanted you to say with him a little longer. well, with nick as well, of course.

“i need my beauty sleep, bro.” you say, trying to defend yourself knowing deep inside you were in fact like an old person. “if any of you play pranks on me tonight…” you pause and try to do your best scary face. “i’ll expose your deepest secrets to the internet. especially yours, nicolas.”

nick jokingly holds his hands up in surrender, still laughing and chris follows him.

“chill, baby girl! we won’t do anything.” he always called you baby girl ironically to make you cringe on purpose, it always works.

“alright, ladies… i’m going to bed.” you yawn again and head to the guest room were you usually sleep.

nick just rolls his eyes, waving at you. “yeah, whatever. go get your beauty sleep, it’s not gonna work anyways. we’ll be here, definitely not plotting a prank to play on you.”

chris just laughs and murmur a good night to you with his usual sweet smile.

as you enter the room and close the door behind you, reality hits your face like a punch. so, you teased matthew, he teased back as usual, however he also got confrontational, like… physically, which never happened before, and then you teased him more, leading him to almost… it’s even harder to say or come to terms with it.

you throw yourself on the bed, puffing and closing your eyes. the worst part is that you didn’t know what you were feeling. excitement? anger? the need to just shut him up? compassion for what nick told you minutes ago? maybe… desire? no! that’s unlikely.

after a few minutes of fighting your thoughts, you fall asleep hugging a pillow just like you always do when feeling any sort of emotional discomfort.

nick and chris continued to sit on the couch in the living room, watching something on tv and chatting for a while, they tried to avoid the topic of you and matt because nick knew chris had a thing for you and that would just make things awkward. after a while, they started to yawn and both decided it was time to head to bed as well. nick was the first one to get up.

“don’t even think about going to the bathroom right now, it’s my time, good night.” chris nods rolling his eyes, also getting up off the couch, he wasn’t going to the bathroom anyways.

“alright, good night.” nick heads to the bathroom and chris stretches, letting out a small yawn before walking towards the guest room you were staying in, he slowly opens the door, peeking his head in to see if you were asleep. he notices you’re knocked out, holding a pillow tightly in your arms and that makes him smile, but then he notices the look on your face, he knew you for long enough to know when you’re having nightmares. chris slowly walks over, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at you. a small frown appears on his face as he wonders what exactly you were having nightmares about to make you look like that. he reaches his hand out carefully and gently moves a strand of hair from your face, his frown slowly going away as he looks at you. the boy gently pats your cheek, his mind conflicted, debating whether to wake you up or not. he hesitates for a moment, and then decides against it, he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. however, he doesn’t move his hand off your cheek, he just keeps his hand there, gently caressing your soft and warm skin as he continues to stare at you, wondering for a second if this is about his brother.

he notice you starting to relax a bit, the look of pain vanishing away. he can’t help but cogitate the possibility of his presence helping you relax, that makes him stay by your side a little longer, he continues to gently pat your cheek, comforting you in a way.

chris is lost in his thoughts, completely focused on you, ignoring the fact that he’s sitting way too close. he can’t take his eyes off your face, watching how peaceful you look now as he continues to pat your cheek. he subconsciously moves a bit closer.

“what the fuck are you doing?” if silent scream wasn’t a thing, matthew definitely invented it. he’s right at the door, looking intensely at his brother and trying his best not to push him away from you, that definitely scared chris, he never saw that look on his bothers’s face before, a bitter, jealous and pure hatred look.

he gets up and gulps, his cheeks were burning and he was embarrassed, not to mention the last person he he wanted talk to was right in front of him.

“she was having a bad dream, i was just trying to help by giving her some cheek pats and…” he suddenly stops talking, the fear fading away and being replaced by confusion. “why do you care?” he asks in a whisper, his eyebrows frowned and arms crossed.

matthew’s gaze remains fixed on you, and he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy and irritation as he sees you asleep so peacefully, having no idea what just happened but imagining all sorts of things.

“why don’t you care?” matthew suddenly snaps his head back at chris, his eyes narrowing. “you were sitting there like a creep, staring at her sleeping. what were you going to do?”

“nothing!” he snaps back, he would never try to do things with anyone without consent, that’s disgusting and against every single thing he believed in. the fact that matt would actually accuse him was insulting, so he couldn’t stop himself by adding. “you’re the one to talk, she got weird the rest of the night after you left. i knew something was up so i came to check on her and she was hugging her pillow, she always do that when something is bothering her. but you don’t care, do you?”

matthew clenches his jaw, his eyes darkening as he listens to chris speak. he knew that accusing his own brother was low blow, he also knew you were indeed feeling something because it’s not the first time he caught you holding a pillow like that. he didn’t want to admit that he pays attention to your habits, or that chris was right.

“and what exactly is bothering her?” a hint of anger mixed with jealousy and concern in his voice.

chris laughs in a sarcastic tone, rolling his eyes. “i don’t know, maybe she’s bothered because you hated her from the very first moment you’ve met and suddenly you wanted to kiss her?” at this point, he decided to leave the room, not waiting to wake you up with their stupid argument. he closes the door behind him and stares at matthew. “what’s not clicking, dude?”

matt stares a chris, his jealousy and anger still there but he can’t deny that his brother was right. he knew deep down that his behavior towards you was wrong, and that him almost trying to kiss you was a terrible move.

“i don’t hate her, i just…” matt’s voice trails off, he wanted to make excuses but he knew it was pointless.

“i dont care.” chris cuts him off, finally ready to say what he wanted to say for a long time. “just stop acting like a teenager and get your shit together. if you truly hate her, leave her alone. and if for some weird reason you like her…” he pauses, before saying his lasts words. “get in line, you’re not the only one.” before matt could answer, he walks off going to his room.

the boy stands there in silence, stunned by chris’s words. he can’t deny that he felt some sort of anger when he saw chris sitting so close to you, or that the reason why the whole situation started was because he was listening to your conversation the whole time, he usually didn’t snoop around about shit you and his brothers talk when you’re over at their place. but then it got annoying when nick turned the topic towards chris having a thing for you and the thought of his brother becoming more than a friend to you made matt’s blood boil, that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from yelling at you guys to keep things down and that’s why the whole situation happened.

for unknown reasons, you were taking away all his self control little by little since day one and that was the reason he hated you the most.

because he couldn’t actually hate you.

matt watches his brother entering the room, can’t bring himself to say anything, the mixture of jealousy, anger and regret leaving him speechless until he finally mutters something to himself, clenching his fists.

“bullshit.”

[occamstfs]

Wouldn't It Be Funny?

Back again with a longer military tf, Hope you enjoy! - Occam

Curtis and Joseph were bored out of their minds. After growing disenchanted with university life the two were well into a gap year and have been finding progressively less stimulating ways to waste away their time. Without assignments piling up and biweekly mandatory lectures they were firmly adrift as the days of the week blur together. Curtis continues scrolling on his phone while Joseph, phone ever-so-recently dead, tries to think of anything to do while it charges back up.

“Wait! I think my brother left a stash of beer last time he visited!” Curtis looks up and squints at his friend, “the best thing you think we could be doing right now is day drinking alcohol your brother left here months ago?” Joseph makes a motion inviting Curtis to produce a better idea which goes unanswered as he rolls his eyes and gets up to accompany Joseph on this ignoble quest.

Joseph leads Curtis to the hall closet where he had apparently thrown everything his brother, Nick, had left after staying over for a couple weeks. There is some deodorant and other toiletries scattered about although the floor, first and foremost however, what catches Curtis’ eye is an army uniform laying in a heap, in the corner of the closet. There is just something about it. Any time he starts to move his attention away from it another question pops into his mind requiring a deeper inspection of the jacket. He wonders how durable the uniform actually is? It looks as if it's never been worn though he knows that Nick has certainly done some training in it. He simply must have a closer look.

Before he could act on that, the jacket he so craved was chucked at him as Joseph found his bottled quarry underneath. “Score! It’s almost full too, we can have two each and rock, paper, scissors over the last one.” Joseph heads to the kitchen well on his way to some palatable lukewarm beers as he continues to chat busily at Curtis. His roommate doesn’t hear him however as the only thing on his mind is the scratchy jacket in his arms. 

He almost blushes looking down and feeling it in his arms, quite a bit heavier than he thought it would be. Surely he should toss it back with the rest of Nick’s things but it’s such a nice jacket. Quite a shame it's gone so long just sitting in their unworn. Maybe he’d just toss it on as a prank. Yeah Joseph would love that, seeing his friend in this massive jacket. His body acts quicker than his mind though, swiftly putting it on, pulling the hem down to straighten it out and pulling the sleeves up so you can just see his hands out the end.

Curtis hears his friend opening bottles in the kitchen and grins as he pictures the look on Joseph’s face as he sees him wearing this. He zips it up and struggles to get wrinkles out of the pockets before the grand reveal. No reason to not try and look legit. For it to really be funny it needs to look good. As soon as the thought that this would be funny enters his mind however he has a sharp headache and groans. No longer able to recall the incongruity of the situation as he steps out to see his friend.

Rounding the corner Curtis quickly starts what is meant to be a comedically poor salute but instead executes one with the precision of a machine. This only heightens the comedy of it all from where Joseph is standing however, halfway through a bottle of beer he chokes and spits up the beer all over the counter. He takes a moment to recover from this waste of beer before looking up once more and laughing so hard he can’t stand up straight.

Curtis in turn clenches his fist hard enough to pop a joint as he feels aggressively defensive. Why is his friend laughing at him. His back tenses with more effort than he has sustained in months, and more strength then he has wielded in a lifetime, as he cannot let this slight go unreciprocated. “What’s so funny, Kid.” Joseph looks up to see Curtis with an expression of rage more genuine than any emotion he had seen of his friend in months. It is immediately met with a flinch and a recoil as Joseph can’t bring himself to his friends’ burning gaze, “Jesus Curtis is everything alright? I thought you were doing a joke?”

A Joke? Curtis’ neck spasms breaking him out of his statuesque posture and upon rubbing a neck more muscular than he thought possible, he remembers, of course he was doing a joke! Why else would he be wearing Nick's Jacket! Smiling as he remembers how good it landed, he heads over to his friend, “Sweet you already opened a bottle for me! What’s the move now, did you want to game?” 

Joseph, shell-shocked by this return to spirits, assumes that the whole thing was now some shit joke, hands his friend a beer and heads to set up his PS5, “sure whatever dude, can you get the lights?” Which Curtis quickly does, not noticing his arms definitively stretching much further out of the jacket than they should. Waiting for his friend to finish the setup Curtis paces behind the couch, each step louder than the last as he grows less careful of his footing and he continues to ever so slightly grow into this jacket.

“Can you chill dude?” 

“Oh! Sorry did-”  

“And why are you still wearing my brother’s jacket!”

“Your brothers-” Curtis pauses to look at the name stitched onto his chest and is also shocked that he’s wearing Nick’s jacket though decidedly not for the same reason that Joseph assumed. “Woah sorry kid? I guess I was cold? Do you want me to throw it back in the closet?”

“Just take it off dude! And stop calling me kid,” puffing as he sits back on the couch and starts to play some game Curtis feels like he should recognize before taking off the jacket and heading to put it in the closet. He scratches at his chin as he tries to work out what feels so off right now. Hanging up Nick’s jacket, sure not to leave any creases, he remembers that he’ll probably need to shave soon so he doesn’t get a mark at the next inspection, his rougher hands feeling around his sharper jaw to check the damage.

Returning to the living room he trips over what he assumes is his own feet but is embarrassed to find; Ah! It’s his jacket! Thank god he let his discipline slack here and not back at base. He picks it up as Joseph turns around hearing the stumble and begins to hurry him back before instead asking, “did you do something with your hair?” To which Curtis tilts his head like a dog before Joseph shouts once more, “Dude! Are you wearing my brother’s socks!?”

“No of course not they would never fit.” He says looking down to see the same army green socks he always wears, not Nick’s. “Well my feet do seem larger than I thought they were.” continuing as he bends down to inspect his feet, Joseph scrambles over to do similarly, though neither notices as they slowly inch even larger across the carpet. Instead Joseph is immediately thrown for a loop hearing a loud groan from his friend as he stands back up. Now almost a head taller than he was before bending down.

“Fuck dude you’re so tall!” Joseph reaches up to put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Curtis was always taller, a fact Joseph was already none too pleased with, but this was ridiculous. He almost has to strain and as he does finally get his arms up he immediately finds thick traps under his friend’s strained shirt, “Asshole! Have you been working out without me!?” 

“Of course not. When would I? Or who would I even-”

“I mean, with recruiters right?” Joseph offers forth without the thought even consciously entering his mind. It made no sense to him but it was true. Suddenly it's as if some form of static fills the minds of both the men, a warm static buzzes through Curtis’ mind and body as he starts to unconsciously put the newly reclaimed uniform back on himself. Joseph experiences something far harsher in his own mind, the static is unbearably cold and punishing. He claws at his head, no longer able to hold two ideas of who Curtis is in his mind. And it is clear which reality is prevailing as Curtis slides his thicker arms into the jacket, flexing to make sure his uniform is fitting just right.

As he begins to zip up the jacket his pecs begin to make themselves well more than apparent. His decidedly larger nipples poking out as the apparently nylon shirt hugs his defined chest and he struggles to get the zipper closed without being uncomfortably tight on his pecs before deciding to just leave it unzipped for now. “Why would I be working with recruiters, lil’ dude?” He looks confused at his friend, or his friend’s little brother? Before smirking and seizing the chance, “If anything you’re the one who should be working with them, gotta be bigger than that to join up with us!”  He puts a hand on Joseph’s head messing with his hair, jolting Joseph back to this new reality.

“Curtis! Do you not think something weird is happening here!”

“Oh? Did your brother not tell you I go by Curt?”

“My brother? Fuck dude! It’s his jacket! You’re wearing his jacket again!”

“Ah no lil’ dude this one here is mine, check it!”

Joseph looks at the clear name tag on his chest clear as day with Curt’s last name on it, not noticing as he seamlessly uses Curt’s apparent preferred name. Instead he stares at a symbol over the center of Curt’s chest clearly also different than the one on his brother’s uniform. Curt smirks as he points to it himself, “Impressed kid? I’m already a Private First Class, not too hard to outpace Nick though. I mean love the guy but come on! Show some hustle! We enlisted together for a reason dude!”

Suddenly Joseph feels that this statement was a bridge too far. He feels a pit in his chest as he feels he has just lost something greater than he can understand going to slap the exemplar of a man in front of him, “Snap out of it!” Before even nearing a strike however his wrist is snatched out of the air and held fast above his head. Curt stares daggers into Joseph at this sign of aggression, this challenge. His eyes darken as his stubble grows out even more. Joseph feels Curt’s grip grow even darker watching as the hair on his arms darkens spreading out from the sleeves. He brings in Nick’s little bro closer to his face as his warm, heaving breaths distract Joseph from the pain in his upheld wrist before he lets go and guffaws, “You’ve gotta be quicker than that kid if you want to enlist with us! Where is your brother anyway? ‘S why I came over right?”

Joseph is perplexed as Curt lets him go, also unsure as to why this mammoth of a man is in his living room. They are quickly assuaged as Curt gets a text from Nick. “Oh you need a ride did ya kid? No problem! He just wants you to bring over the jacket he left over here and we’ll head on out.” Curt struggles to shove his feet in his combat shoes before finding himself distracted as the shoes push out to fit his ever larger feet.

Joseph’s mind remains a battlefield but it is clear which side is soon to rout as he heads to the closet where he just wanted to grab some beer. Inside he finds not only his brother's jacket, expertly hung, but a second one that looks almost supernaturally comfortable. He pauses before reaching out, feeling an existential aversion to the jacket hanging in his closet. before there’s a brisk breeze through the house and he shivers. Joseph quickly grabs his brothers and slides into the latter jacket, a tad too big but the world around him feels much warmer now that he has it on.

After suiting up Joseph quickly rushes back to his brother’s friend, quite wanting to make a good impression on the private first class. As he rushes his footsteps quickly grow in volume as his tennis shoes thicken into pristine combat shoes and grow far wider as his feet race to keep up, filling their increased space. Barely avoiding tripping over his now massive feet, he sees that Curt is of course not a private at all but his Corporal, as he freezes and salutes. His biceps straining his sleeves as his stained white shirt begins to slowly make room for the soldier’s expanding muscle. “At ease Joe, Let’s go ahead and head on out.”

Curt leads Joe out to his lifted truck and has him get in before loading a few more things into the bed of his truck. There is a load of clearly dirty towels in the back seat as Curt clearly has an issue bringing in laundry after his workouts. Although he doesn’t make it a habit of driving recruits so it’s not usually an issue. Sitting in the musky cabin does immediately cause issues for Joe however, as he puts the seatbelt on he feels his body start to expand in every direction it can. His pecs push against both his shirt and the seatbelt. He pulls his tight shirt down, straining it to the brim as he feels a sudden itch in his crotch. His hand already down there and finding it impossible to bring his attention anywhere else he sees his bulge push out, almost doubling in size as he scratches his increasingly overgrown pubes. He struggles to cover the impossible to miss bulge forcing his brother’s jacket over his crotch, the added pressure and warmth overwhelms him as Curt notices from outside

Curt watches as his new recruit’s shoulders broaden and his jaw widens. He slightly shifts in his seat, almost gyrating, running the hand not shoved in his pants through his hair, leaving behind a respectable high and tight demanded of any respectable recruit.

Curt slowly opens the door giving the recruit the briefest of chances to at least perform decency. Immediately wrenching the hand from his pants to salute, shouting “Sir!” towards his Corporal, eyes growing deathly serious as he touches a visibly sweat covered hand to his brow. Curt’s eyes glint as he notices the action flung Nick’s jacket off and exposed Joe’s still expanding bulge and unzipped pants. The two feel a hunger starting to grow in their chests as Curt hops into the driver's seat. Adjusting his rear view as he juts up once more in height, his jacket making it apparent to all he is now a sergeant, Curt begins to drive off towards the base. 

Curt puts his hand on Joe’s inner thigh, overstimulating the private who roughly clenches his jaw trying to keep it together. He feels pre start to soak through Joe’s fatigues as he starts to rub his thigh. Grunting as he too feels a powerful stirring in his crotch, his cock forcing itself further down his leg. “Wouldn’t want to stop at my place first, would ya’ Joe?” Joe stares at the sergeant ahead of him with a lust deeper than the can understand, and a hunger to grow even larger. Curt chuckles, “gotta release some of this energy before we break the new to Nick anyway.” He turns his car and begins to race towards his apartment on the base. 

As the heat in the car begins to fog up the windows the two men could not remember anything besides who they were since joining the army. After an anything but quick fuck, they would get back to work on the base. Curt distracts himself as he commands his troops and Joe gets ready for his promotion ceremony, ready to rub it in his brother’s face that he was already going to be higher ranked. The two follow orders flawlessly as they always have, performing their duties with rigor. The only thing more present on their minds than dedication to their fellow soldiers being the excitement for the next time they are to fuck.

[sturniololuvz]

Could you do a fic where Y/N and her bf do a prank on the triplets that he was gonna hit her and see what their reactions would be but before Y/N could tell them it was a prank Matt and Chris had to hold Nick back ?💜💙🧡

yesss

“Not Funny, Y/N”

Sturniolos x sister

Y/N and her boyfriend sat in the living room, setting up the hidden camera behind a stack of books. The plan was simple: make it look like he was about to hit her and see how the triplets reacted. She knew they were protective, but she underestimated just how much.

As soon as the boys came home, Y/N and her boyfriend jumped into action.

“Why do you always have to be so stupid?” her boyfriend suddenly yelled, slamming his hand on the table for dramatic effect.

Y/N flinched on cue, making herself look smaller. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“You never mean to! Maybe I should—” He raised his hand like he was about to slap her.

Before she could even breathe, Nick was already charging.

“You got me messed up!” Nick roared, his entire face twisting in rage as he lunged forward.

Chris and Matt barely had time to react before they grabbed him, holding him back with everything they had.

“Nick, wait—” Matt grunted, struggling to hold him by the shoulders.

Chris wrapped his arms around Nick’s torso. “Bro, chill! Chill!”

“Let me go!” Nick snarled, eyes wild as he fought against their grip. “I’m gonna knock his teeth in!”

Y/N panicked. “Wait, wait—it’s a prank!”

Nick froze, his breath heavy, his fists still clenched. “What?”

Chris and Matt slowly loosened their grip, but Nick was still staring at Y/N’s boyfriend like he was about to pounce.

“It was a prank,” Y/N repeated, her voice small. She gestured to the hidden camera. “We were just messing with you guys…”

Silence.

Then—

Nick snapped.

“Are you kidding me?!” he shouted. “That’s your idea of a joke?! You think that’s funny?!”

Matt let out a deep breath, running a hand over his face. “Dude, my heart actually stopped for a second.”

Chris shook his head, looking more disappointed than angry. “Y/N, we were about to kill him.”

Y/N bit her lip. “I—I didn’t think you guys would react that fast—”

Nick scoffed, stepping back, his hands on his hips as he paced. “That fast?! What did you expect us to do? Sit back and let that happen?!”

Her boyfriend, realizing how badly this prank had gone, held his hands up. “Look, I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to—”

“Shut up,” Nick snapped, still seething. “I don’t even wanna hear your voice right now.”

Y/N looked between them, regret settling in fast. “I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid—”

“Yeah,” Chris muttered, crossing his arms. “It was.”

Matt sighed, rubbing his temples. “Nick, breathe, man.”

Nick shook his head, glaring at Y/N and her boyfriend. “I’m so done with both of you right now.”

With that, he stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Y/N turned to Matt and Chris, her heart sinking. “I really didn’t think—”

“Yeah,” Matt said, shaking his head. “You didn’t.”

Chris let out a deep sigh. “Give him a while. Maybe he’ll talk to you by tomorrow.”

Y/N groaned, flopping onto the couch. “Worst. Prank. Ever.”

[bairdthereader]

Nick Asking Charlie Out: Intention

The differences between the show and the comic in the scene where Nick asks Charlie to come to Harry's party are striking and, I think, are Alice's brilliant way of adding intention into this evolving relationship in a way it hadn't existed before.

In the comic, we get a panel that shows the boys' notebooks and their hands, but not their faces, as Nick says "Are you going to Harry Greene's party on Saturday?" Though Nick is obviously deeply interested in Charlie's answer, this is still a passive inquiry; the stakes are low when the question is framed this way.

In the show, on the other hand, we first get this moment of intense, silent struggle while Nick works up the nerve to ask a real question, a question that he knows is weighty. There's a second where he checks in with himself--you can see it in his eyes (Kit is brilliant here)--where he's asking himself if he's actually going to do this.

And, yes, he decides, he is. This is easily the most nervous we've ever heard Nick to this point. The words rush out, squeezed together and slightly high-pitched: "Do you want to go to Harry's party?" This in and of itself is still not a particularly loaded question; it's the fact that Nick managed to ask it at all that lends it consequence. He thought hard about it. He knew what he really meant when he asked it. He's still incredibly, intensely confused, but he also knows he's taking a concrete step toward exploring a romantic relationship with Charlie, even if he's still completely unsure of what that really means for his own identity journey.

And Nick wants Charlie to have a clear understanding of what he's really saying, too (as is Nick's way). So then comes the bit that really scares him, but about which he's undeniably most hopeful. This is where this scene deviates most noticeably from the comics, in which Nick never specifies that he wants Charlie to go to the party with him. I love that Alice made this change, because we get to see Nick, for the first time, making an intentional decision not only to act on his attraction to Charlie (in a seemingly small but for him really quite monumental way), but also, importantly, his intention to make Charlie aware, on some level, of his changing feelings.

In the comics we get Charlie's reluctance, and then Nick's admission that he doesn't want to hang out with his own friends. Then "I have you now, so . . . so will you come?" Again, Nick is asking Charlie to attend the party, and clearly wants him to say he will, so there is some kind of intention behind his ask, but he frames it safely in the context of wanting someone there to hang out with whose company he actually enjoys.

In the show, Nick is very purposeful and decisive in the way he responds to Charlie's reluctance. "I want you to be there." This is not passively allowing closeness to happen under the guise of friendship. Yes, Nick carefully walks the line between a platonic ask and a romantic one by not actually calling it a date, but this is still a critical point for him. This is intention, purposefulness, acting toward a specific, desired outcome.

I love the panel in the comics that appears after Charlie says he'll go to the party, that it will be fun if Nick is there. It's adorable, and Nick is clearly flustered and excited that Charlie changed his mind about the party based on Nick's desire for his company.

But in the show we get This Face. ⬇️ The I can't believe I just did that face, immediately followed by the thank god he said yes face (along with a tiny little sigh of relief that he managed to say what he wanted to say). This whole interaction is basically a preview of the rest of their relationship. Nick constantly acting in a very considered, purposeful way, pushing himself and surprising himself . . . in part because Charlie promises to be there, is happy to be there . . . and Nick not believing his luck.

[Side note: Charlie's face says a lot here too. It says "I think, maybe, that might have been an actual ask out!" Then it says "But maybe not, don't get too excited." Because despite Nick's intention, Charlie's past experiences and pain--not to mention everyone around him--have been telling him there's no way Nick could mean his question in the way Charlie wants to interpret it. Charlie's uncertainty even after this interaction makes Nick's next really purposeful, intentional, purely internally motivated move--taking Charlie's hand after their first kiss--that much more important.]

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Jealous/possessive ghostface!miguel x nerdy reader

😘 I have no idea but I hope this helps

I love loVE LOVE Ghostface and I hope you like this cuz the second I heard ghostface the ideas started forming and- I just hope you like it! I got a little carried away so if you want something different just send another request

!!!!READ THE CW!!!!

Ghostface!Miguel x Nerdy!f!reader

CW: Nsfw, jealousy/possession, blood, a little con non-con, knife kink, degrading, implied stalking, fingering, p in v, too big, tears

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you ran through your house and out the back door. It was him, the serial killer all over the news. Fucking Ghostface. You couldn’t believe someone would take on that title and actually succeed in living up to it.

Everything about him was incredible. His voice, his mask, his hands grasping that knife- hold up! You’re seriously romanticizing the guy trying to kill you? Well, he is hot…

You shook the thought away as you continued running, trying to recall all the rules from those movies you loved so much. So much… Hey! Focus. Right, the rules.

• Never had sex, you failed that one

• Never drink or smoke

• Never run upstairs, that doesn’t really help if you’re outside…

• Never say-

“AH!” Your own scream cut off your thoughts as the strong man tackled you. You flailed and struggled against him as he pinned your wrists above your head. “Let go!” You cried out, hoping anyone would hear you. But of course like any god horror movie, your house was in the middle of nowhere.

He stayed silent as he held you down with ease. As hot as this is, you started feeling genuine fear, tears streaming down your cheeks. You managed to get a hand free and rip his mask off his face. God fucking damnit… he’s gorgeous! What are you even thinking.

The man growled as you tossed the mask aside, quickly pushing your wrist against the ground again. “Stupid bitch!” You knew that voice. You had run into him many times before. Miguel O’Hara? Was he stalking you? You did think it was weird he showed up everywhere you did… Why would he stalk you?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel the cool metal of his knife against your cheek. You gasped and turned your head to the side, trying to get away but it’s no use. The sharp metal nicked you, and you felt the blood trickle down your face. He gave you a sinister smirk before licking up your cheek, lapping up your blood.

“Delicious.” He growled in your ear. “Now stay still for me, Cariño.” You don’t know why, but you wanted to do what he says. That’s not true, you know exactly why. It wasn’t out of fear. It was because you were so turned on. Your pussy was so wet just from hearing his voice without that filter.

Miguel’s hands travel down your sides before he pushes the hem of your skirt up. He grabbed your soaked panties and yanked them down. You let out a gasp as the cold hair hits your exposed cunt. He smirked as his fingers spread your folds and he took in the sight of your beautiful pussy.

“This cunt is mine. Only mine, from now on.” He circled your clit, listening to your sweet moans. Two slid inside you with ease, and he started scissoring you. You gasped and moaned, his fingers felt like heaven inside you. He knew all the right spots, and a louder cry ripped from you as his thumb rubbed your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your hips buck and jolt as your stimulated so much. His fingers pumped inside you a bit more before he pulled them out. You whined in protest, then noticed that same hand working at his pants. He got them off his ease, his other hand pushing your shirt up, exposing your bare breasts to the cool night air. As he worked on freeing his erection, he traced down your chest with his knife, sliding the blade between your tits and down your torso.

It broke skin at a few points, and you could see the blood start to spill. It wasn’t enough to cause serious damage or leave scars, but it was enough to sting. His blade then moved to your tits, the tip tracing around both perked nipples teasingly. He loved watching you shiver and squirm under him. He dragged the metal on the underside of your breasts, breaking more skin. The sight made his cock throb.

Speaking of, his massive length sprung free from his pants. He was so huge, it definitely wouldn’t fit even with his half assed stretching of your cunt.

“I-it’s too big, it won’t fit.” You whined a little.

“I’ll make it fit.” Miguel growled in your ear, his leaking tip poking at your entrance. You whimpered and hesitantly spread your legs more, inviting him in. He smirked and thrusted into you without hesitation. You cried out, salty tears running down your cheeks, causing the previous slice to sting.

He was ruthless in his thrusts, ravaging your pussy with his monster of a cock. You cried out and moaned, it felt like he was splitting you open from your cunt. There was sure to be blood after… He groaned as your tight walls constricted around him, as if you could control that.

Miguel’s hands held your hips down as he continued this assault on your poor pussy, never once slowing down. You hated to admit it, but it was soooo good. You could feel that warm knot forming in your gut, only getting tighter when he picked up his pace.

You moaned whorishly as a violent orgasm ripped through you. You felt pathetic, to cum under these circumstances? You should be screaming and crying, trying to push him away. But you didn’t. You loved every inch inside you.

Your face was angelic to him, seeing your eyes roll back and hearing your moans sent him over the edge. With a final thrust he released his load, filling you up to the brim as he drained his balls inside you. That feeling was like heaven to you, making you moan more and your walls clench on his length, milking him for all he’s got.

Miguel slowly pulled out. You could see his cock, glistening in the moonlight covered in your slick and… and blood. You knew he ripped something down there. Your adrenaline didn’t allow you to feel it just yet, and without the immense pain about to come, it looked so hot.

“Are you going to call the police if I don’t kill you?” His voice broke your train of thought.

You pondered a moment. “No… no I don’t think I will…” You gave him a weak smile, the tiredness finally catching up to you.

[cillian-gets-me-wetter]

prologue- kiss it better (series)

warnings: implied smut (18+ only), mutual pining, sexual talk, cheating

disclaimer: i do not own people or teams mentioned in this story besides the original character(s). this is strictly for fictional purposes only.

a/n: did i get a little carried away with this? maybe. but did i enjoy writing it? absolutely

masterlist 🩰

word count: 912

erika and joe first met in 2018. he transferred to louisiana state from ohio state for a better chance to play football. he sat next to her in a lecture during english class, showing up a bit late after struggling to find his classes. as the school year progressed, they became good friends. they supported each other's goals and dreams. they remained friends after college. they moved to pursue different careers. whenever they would meet up again, it was as if time didn't exist. in 2022, a year into her relationship with nicholas, she felt a void. everything was great, but something was missing. she was in cincinnati, visiting joe and attending the bengals game against the rams.

september 2022

erika and joe sat on his couch, watching the hangover. they were catching up on their lives after his win earlier that night. he looked over and asked her, “so, how’s it going with you and nick?” she shrugged, taking a swig from her beer before answering, “i don't know. it’s been okay, i guess.” he eyed her with curiosity, noticing the conflicted look on her face. "okay?" she sighed, unsure how to describe how she feels about her relationship. “i mean, it’s going great; don’t get me wrong. but like there’s something missing." he chuckled with a gentle sound, “what? is the sex bad?" the question made her look away, telling him everything he needed to know. "damn... that bad, huh?”  

erika rolled her eyes at what he said, not outright denying anything. "joey... it’s not funny.” joe shook his head; he wanted to avoid hurting her feelings the most. "i never said it was.” she sighed, “i’m not saying that it’s bad sex. it’s decent, but after i feel so..." she met his gaze; he listened with focused attention as she searched for the right words. he broke the brief silence. he finished her sentence with one word: "unsatisfied." she nodded, biting her lip as guilt washed over her. he scooted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. his expression softened, pulling her close against his body. "i’m sorry, bunny. i didn’t mean to make you feel upset or uncomfortable.”

she shook her head; her heart skipped a beat whenever he called her that since he gave her the nickname in college. "it’s okay; what you said didn’t upset me. i’m guilty of thinking that way, like i’m an awful person for viewing my own boyfriend in that kind of light.” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "hey, you aren’t a bad person for having that opinion. it’s how you feel; don’t downplay it. what makes you feel unsatisfied?” she gave him a small smile; he always knew how to make her feel better and at ease. she leaned into him more, resting her head against his shoulder. "like after we have sex, he always asks if i came, and of course, i say yes. but i actually didn't... or i question whether i did or not.”

he feels her body warmth as she leans against him, his heart beating out of his chest. "well, usually if you have to question it, it means you didn’t. he needs to get to know how your body works more, like what makes you tick, rather than focusing on his own pleasure.” she let out a short laugh; she wasn’t making fun of his response, but having something like that was out of her element. "yeah, i’ve never experienced that.” he looked at her in curiosity once more, wondering what she was implying. "what do you mean?” she shrugged, a bit self-conscious and embarrassed when she answered his question. "i’ve never had a guy make me cum before.” his eyes widened in disbelief as he did not expect that to be her answer. "oh shit. are you serious?”

she looked away, her face flushed. she felt embarrassed to have this conversation with her best friend. "yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing.” he shrugged, and while he understood why she felt embarrassed by it, he couldn’t help but want to help her out. "i get it. but if i’m being honest, i don’t find it embarrassing.” she met his gaze again, feeling a sense of relief. "you don’t? or are you saying that to make me feel better?” his hand moved down her body, giving her hip a gentle squeeze. “i don’t. in fact, your little confession makes me want to help you out.” her breath hitched in her throat when she felt his hand squeeze her hip, her hands falling into place on his chest. "you want to help me? how?"

his hand moved up to her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “want me to show you?” a chill ran down her spine after he asked, and she nodded without saying anything. he leaned in, closing his eyes and capturing her lips in a slow, exploratory kiss. immediately kissing him back, her fingers ran through his hair, parting her lips for him. he slipped his tongue into her mouth, as she let it overpower hers. he guided her back onto the couch. then, he parted her legs to feel more comfortable against her. this broke the kiss. “is this okay?” she nodded, her hands trailing down his chest. “yes, joe... i’ve wanted you for so long.” he groaned at her confession, “fuck, bunny... i’ve wanted you too.” he kissed her again, but this time it was urgent and heated. 

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (3/?)

Part summary: Leigh develops an unhealthy habit as she hits closer to rock bottom

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.370 | Warnings/Tags: Some hetero stuff | A/N: Things will pick up after this part. I think there's going to be a total of 6 parts, but let me confirm that in the next update :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Next

-

Leigh is ten minutes late. 

It makes sense. Her willingness to attend this meeting was surprising, because if you were in her shoes, you doubt you'd have agreed to it. Listening to the entire history of a relationship can be exhausting, and it's hard to imagine what it feels like to hear about one that arguably should never have existed.

But just as you're about to think she's bailed or intentionally left you hanging, you spot her sprinting toward the cafe from across the street. She's a mess—hair soaked and sticking everywhere, face bare, missing its usual touch of makeup. But even like this, Leigh doesn't look much different from her usual self. You can't help feeling a bit envious of that.

She rushes into the cafe, attracting a few curious looks, but she barely registers them, her wide green eyes quickly finding you.

“Sorry I'm late,” she pants, struggling to catch her breath, “I got caught in the rain and then missed my bus.” The lie slips out effortlessly. True, it had rained, but the real reason was far more personal—something you didn't need to know.

You shrug off her apology with a smile, signaling the waiter for a menu for Leigh. “No worries, I'm just glad you made it,” you say.

Leigh gives you a quick once-over, then forces a smile and thanks you. Once her coffee order's in, she gets right down to it. “So, Matt,” she starts, her voice dropping to a whisper, “how did you two meet?”

You lean back, carefully thinking about what to say next. You didn't practice your answers ahead of time because you weren't planning to lie about anything. But you're wary of how you word things, not wanting to upset her. Being caught up with a married man is embarrassing enough as it is, and having to relay the details to his widowed wife only adds to it.

“Actually, our first meeting was totally by chance,” you say, bringing your steaming cup of tea to your lips. “I quite literally bumped into Matt one day. It was so brief, I barely gave it a second thought.”

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Then, about a week later, Matt showed up at my clinic with the same friend from before. It turned out, they were there for his friend's dog, who needed a check-up. Matt was just tagging along, helping out.”

Leigh’s face remains passive, making it hard to read. 

“The friend was the one who interacted with me the most that day. He even asked for my number, saying they were grateful for the help with the dog. I assumed he was interested,” you say, the memory coming back to you clearer now as you speak. “But, to my surprise, it was Matt who texted me later, not his friend.”

You barely manage to suppress the slight twitch of your lips, recalling how everything once seemed magical to you. Leigh on the other hand, takes a slow sip of her coffee, buying a moment to process.

“Who was that friend of Matt's? Do you remember his name?” she asks.

You pause, racking your brain for the detail, feeling its importance to Leigh. “Yeah, I think his name was Nick or something,” you say, scratching your head. Whether the name ‘Nick’ rings any bells for her or not, she doesn't let on. 

“Strange,” you mumble under your breath, but then shrug it off. “It doesn't really matter, he's not the one I—” You stop yourself just in time, realizing you're about to say something potentially hurtful about a situation that still feels raw, especially to Leigh.

Instead, you quickly pivot. “Anyway, that's how it all started. On the day of the dog’s follow-up, it was just Matt who came by. We struck up a friendship from there, and one thing led to another until he, uhm, asked me out for dinner.”

At this, you notice a subtle change in Leigh's demeanor. Her entire frame becomes more timid, the first real sign of emotion she's shown since this conversation began. 

You’re about to go on with your story when Leigh suddenly speaks up.

“So, you just said yes, even though he was your client? Don't veterinarians have professional boundaries?”

Ever since meeting Leigh, you've found it challenging to predict what might trigger her reactions—it's like navigating a minefield. Occasionally, you’d find yourself wondering what it would be like to know her without the complications currently defining your interactions. You think about the roles you both involuntarily play in each other's lives, roles neither of you auditioned for but somehow ended up performing.

You feel a lump form in your throat, and your gaze drops to your lap. “Well, he was persistent,” you say, feeling the need to defend your decision. Nevertheless, it sounds weak to your own ears. “But I made it clear nothing could happen until the dog's treatment was complete. And I insisted he'd have to find a different vet for any future appointments. It was... complicated.”

“I bet,” Leigh scoffs, crossing her arms. After a beat, she asks, almost too casually, “So, how quickly did you two... you know, have your first kiss?”

The question hangs awkwardly between you. You know you can’t answer it in any way you could avoid her judgment, so you just decide to spit it out. 

“First date.” Under Leigh’s scrutinizing gaze, it feels like admitting to a minor crime.

Leigh stares at you with unblinking eyes. “And how long after meeting him did this first date happen?”

You draw in a slow breath. “Three weeks,” you mutter. “It was last fall.” You add that bit, proactively laying out the timeline as if it could somehow soften the blow or make the situation less complicated. Leigh, however, looks like you've just knocked the wind out of her. She looks away, her expression shifting into something like shock or deep pain. Alarm bells ring in your head at the picture before you.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?” you say in a rush. “I mean, this whole situation is messed up, but if I—”

Leigh’s eyes are glass as they return to you. When she speaks again, her voice is so soft you almost have to lean in to hear. “Last fall... That's when I told Matt we should start trying for a baby.”

The words drain the color from your face. And suddenly, all the pieces of your story with Matt feels even more tainted.

You're not sure what your face gives away when you hear this news, but Leigh's expression quickly shifts from tearful to furious. “Stop feeling sorry for me,” she hisses. “I don’t need your pity.”

Leigh's tears start to spill over, and it's only 7:30 in the morning. It feels way too early for tears, especially here, in the middle of a coffee shop where the day is just beginning for most. You try to shrink into your seat, wishing you could make both of you invisible as the few other patrons start throwing curious, if not outright concerned, looks your way.

You never realized a simple conversation could cause someone so much pain. You thought providing Leigh with answers would help, but it looks like you're just making things even harder for her. Maybe keeping your distance from her is the kindest thing you can do.

“You know the worst part?” Leigh brushes away the tears that keep streaking down her face.

Clearly, she isn't looking for an answer, so you stay silent.

She makes sure she catches your eye before saying, “He agreed, and we started trying.”

-

Leigh catches her breath after wrapping up her class at the Beautiful Beast. 

She took a day off yesterday, immediately after talking with you, spending the whole day in bed just trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Surprisingly, wasting away for a whole day seemed to help, and her concerns gradually drifted back to her fight with Jules. It’s been days, and Leigh feels the urgency of reconciliation pressing on her. By this point, they should be on speaking terms again. By now, Jules should have let go of her anger, right? Leigh knows she can't afford to have her sister hating her. At least not right now. She needs her family, or what’s left of it—on her side. 

“Hey, Jules, got a sec? About the schedule…” Leigh tries, hoping work might be a safe enough topic to get her sister to acknowledge her existence once again.

Jules barely glances her way. Her hands keep moving, adjusting a strap here, aligning yoga mats there, as if the very act could shield her from having to engage. “Sorted. Check your email,” she replies, her voice cold and detached.

Leigh nods, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “Great, great... um, did you consider adding that beginners' workshop we talked about?”

Jules stops for a beat, and Leigh thinks, maybe she's going to drop it. But no, Jules resumes fussing over items that hardly require any attention. Then, without even looking up, she says, “Yeah, it's on the list. Anything else?”

Leigh tries to keep her cool, wishing Jules would just cut to the chase and tell her what needs to be done for all to be forgiven. 

Trying a different tactic, Leigh goes, “Hey, found a Starbucks card in my bag. How 'bout I grab us some coffee? My treat.”

Leigh’s trying. She really is. Why can’t they see that?

Jules just gives her that look, the kind that doesn't need words, and heads back to her desk. And there's Leigh, offer of a beverage truce just floating in the air, going nowhere.

Getting ignored really gets under Leigh's skin. Back in the day, Matt's habit of brushing her off would drive her to the edge. She'd respond with over-the-top demands or twist things around just to make sure he’d always pay attention to her. She didn't start off wanting to be that person, but looking back, she sees the lengths she'd go to just to keep his attention from straying. 

Unable to control herself, she heads straight for Jules, grabs her arm despite her trying to wiggle free, and yanks her into the backroom.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Jules explodes, not caring if anyone’s heard her outside.

They're both standing there, kind of shocked by how heated things got so fast. Jules’ shout might've turned a few heads outside, but right now, that's the least of Leigh's worries.

“How many times do I need to apologize, for you to get over this?”

Jules’ eyes are wide in disbelief, her mouth twisting into a sardonic smile, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, Leigh! This is exactly why I’m not talking to you,” Jules hisses, but keeps her voice down this time.

“What—”

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

Leigh's initial scoff dies in her throat as she watches Jules' expression twist with hurt. “Yeah, okay, I said sorry about the crap I pulled the other day. I know I was out of line, talking about your past like that—”

Jules doesn't let her finish. “You weren't just being ‘out of line’, Leigh. You threw the worst time of my life in my face! Do you have any idea how hurtful that is? Coming from my own sister? From my own family? What, just to win an argument? To cover up for acting like a jerk at the club?”

Leigh goes quiet, but her face hardens, trying not to show how much Jules' words hit her right in the gut. What she said, laid out like that, it sounds…well, unforgivable.

“I'm trying, okay?” Leigh blurts out without thinking.

“Shouldn't be that hard to just be a decent human being, should it?” Jules shoots back, her dismissal sharp as she exits the cramped space, leaving Leigh reeling.

Under her breath, almost like she's talking to the walls, Leigh mumbles, “I'm really sorry…” It's quiet, almost lost in the room, but she means it the most at this very moment, even if no one's around to catch it.

-

Leigh clocks out from work, her day's fatigue hanging off her shoulders like a weighty cloak. Instead of heading straight home, she veers off her usual path, her feet bringing her to places that made breathing difficult the first few weeks after Matt's death. She's walking the same old route she always did when he was still around, back to when her home address was different and she'd pick up takeout from his favorite places along the way.

There’s the park first, the one where she and Matt spent countless afternoons sprawled on the grass, lying side by side as they watched the sky blush into shades of orange at sunset. She allows herself only a fleeting glance at the familiar paths and the bench they claimed theirs, feeling the same regret, the same hollowness as she remembers the good times they had there. 

In the back of her mind, she can't shake off the worry that maybe you've been here too, making your own memories with him. She doesn’t feel the surge of anger at this thought however. Instead, a part of her is almost willing to share these sacred memories if it means holding onto him in any form. She wants to believe that her jealousy has faded into a quieter acceptance that others might also carry pieces of him, pieces she's learning to live with.

Pulling herself away from the park, Leigh's walk inevitably leads her past Matt's favorite Italian restaurant—a quaint, cozy place where they celebrated most of their birthdays and, on occasion, anniversaries, especially when neither felt like cooking (which became an increasingly common choice in the months leading up to his accident).

She remembers how Matt's face would light up at the prospect of their rich, creamy carbonara and the tiramisu he claimed was unrivaled in the city. She recalls the numerous times she attempted to recreate the restaurant's tiramisu at home, aiming to surprise Matt at least once a month. Despite her efforts, if she truly wanted to indulge him, she knew there was no substitute for the real thing. So, on special days, or whenever she felt an extra burst of affection, she'd stop by the restaurant on her way home, picking up takeout. 

A waitress from the restaurant notices Leigh's lingering gaze and asks if she'd like a table. With a shy smile, Leigh declines, then pauses before finally deciding to order a tiramisu to go.

When she returns to her mom's house and eats the tiramisu alone, it tastes different. 

Leigh can't decide if the difference in the tiramisu's taste is good or bad, but that doesn't stop her. She finishes the entire slice in minutes. But instead of feeling full, it makes her feel emptier. Perhaps, it’s not the flavor that's changed; it's the experience of eating it without Matt's enthusiastic commentary, without him lighting up at the first bite or playfully claiming the last one, despite his generous offer to let her have it.

Suddenly, tears just start pouring out of Leigh as she sits there with an empty plate. She didn't see it coming, no chance to stop it or shove it down. Then, she finds herself laughing—a deep, throaty laugh—because she's grieved for him in countless ways, but this, crying over a dessert, has to be the most absurd. It's exactly the kind of moment they would have laughed at together.

Deciding that that would be her dinner, Leigh cleans up the small mess she's made and considers the evening ahead. But just as she’s about to sink into the couch for a quiet night, her phone buzzes, making her jump.

Seeing your name flash on her screen, she sighs, sensing a familiar bitterness creeping back in, disrupting the soothing moments she had just spent reminiscing about Matt. She lets it ring a few times more before picking up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Leigh says, managing to keep her voice steady over the phone.

“Hey,” you start, unsure how to break the ice after everything. Especially with what you’re about to say next.

“Listen, something happened today at the clinic. Someone came in looking for their lost French Bulldog, and they had a picture,” you pause to breathe. “Leigh, it looks a lot like Visitor.”

On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Leigh's heart skip a beat.

“Hello?” you ask, checking to make sure she's still there after she doesn't respond for several seconds.

“Are you sure?” Leigh’s voice cracks slightly.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure,” you say softly, feeling a surge of empathy. “I'm sending you the picture now. Check it out and tell me what you think.”

You hit send and then wait for Leigh’s confirmation.

“It's him. It's definitely Visitor,” she says a moment later.

You're relieved but also concerned about what comes next. “So, what are you going to do?”

Leigh hesitates, and when she speaks again, she doesn’t give a direct answer. “Thank you, Y/N,” she says, and you pick up something in her tone. Something somber. 

“Everything alright?” 

But the line's already dead, leaving you staring at your phone, wondering what she is up to.

-

Leigh stands outside the community center, her hand lingering on the door longer than usual.  It's been weeks since she last came to a session. First, there was the shock of uncovering Matt's darkest secret, and now, there's the issue of the man inside, already looking her way, waiting to see her next move.

Danny appearing at her doorstep earlier in the week caught her completely off guard—and not in a good way. The moment she realized it was him, Leigh didn't hesitate to close the door in his face. After she shut him out, it escalated to the point where she threatened to call the police because he wouldn't stop pounding on the door and shouting for Leigh to let him in, insisting he just wanted to talk. His last attempt to get through to her fell flat when he flooded her inbox with texts and missed calls, pushing Leigh to the point where she blocked his number for good.

Despite the problem of Danny being here tonight, Leigh isn't willing to walk away from this just because of him. She's already given up so much lately, most recently Visitor—or Chico, as she found out his real name was—and his absence carved a fresh ache in her heart that she hadn't seen coming.

So, she takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, ignoring the smirk on Danny’s face as she proceeds to pretend like he doesn’t exist.

-

Somehow, after the meeting, Leigh ends up saying yes to a quick chat with Danny. He reels her in with the news that he submitted Matt’s remaining works—which he got custody of—to his publisher, and they were keen to publish them posthumously. 

Leigh can't help but throw in a bit of shade. “That's nice of you, doing something good for your brother, even if it's a bit late.”

Danny's face drops a little. Her words were sharp enough to hurt him, but he doesn't bite back or get in her face about it, which totally throws Leigh for a loop. After all the time she'd spent ignoring him, she had expected him to be at his worst around her.

And then he surprises her even more when he says, “Let me give you a ride home? It's the least I can do…”

Leigh arches an eyebrow. She didn’t bring the car tonight because Jules had a thing with Tommy, and she didn’t want to give her sister another reason to resent her. A ride from Danny beats the alternatives of walking or shelling out for a pricey cab, especially now that her phone's battery has given out, nixing the option of booking an Uber.

But this is Danny. Matt’s brother, and the guy she hooked up with because she thought she’d get back some semblance of her dead husband. After Jules pointed out how messed up it was that they'd slept together, Leigh's been all over the place. The rules around what they were doing either turned her off or, weirdly enough, made the whole thing more enticing, taboo and all. That's a big part of why she's been steering clear of him. Hanging out with Danny feels like reaching for a cigarette long after she's sworn off smoking.

Even with all that swirling in her head, Leigh ends up saying, “Sure, why not?”

Before she knows it, she's also agreeing to a drink at his place.

-

The second they step into his apartment, something inside of Leigh snaps. Acting on impulse, she grabs Danny by the collar and kisses him fiercely. She clenches his shirt in her hands, practically tearing it in her grip. Danny's initial surprise melts away in seconds, and then he’s kissing her just as hard, his tongue prying open her lips, taking control of the kiss right away. His hands find her waits, pulling her closer, practically already half-lifting her against the wall.

Leigh, caught up in the moment, begins to move her hips in a rocking motion against him. The action is effective enough to distract him from where he’s kissing every inch of Leigh’s neck, and he retaliates by suddenly pressing her more firmly against the wall, pinning her with his hips, their chests are tightly pressed together.

But as Leigh's fingers begin to fumble with the button of Danny's pants, he catches her hands gently and, panting, says, “Wait, Leigh, hold on for just a sec.” 

Leigh’s eyes fly open at his voice, irritation and impatience coloring them. “What?” she gasps out. 

He ignores the hard edges of her tone. He wants more—something real—and he's hoping she does too.

“I can’t do this again unless I know it’s going somewhere,” Danny says. He gently lets go of Leigh and takes a step back, trying to collect himself. It's a tough task, though, with Leigh looking the way she does—hair all tousled, lips slightly swollen and marked from when he got a bit carried away, her cheeks tinged with a warm flush. He could’ve made her come in the next two minutes, he’s sure of it.

At Danny's confession, Leigh can't help it; she bursts into laughter. The idea of him catching feelings now, of all times, seems absurd to her. As she laughs, Danny's jaw tightens, but he waits patiently for her to finish.

When Leigh finally notices the seriousness etched across Danny's face, her amusement evaporates almost instantly. The realization that he's not joking strikes her, and it doesn't sit well. Not one bit.

“What, you think because your brother's gone, you get to... what? Step in? Take his place?” she spits out, incredulous. “This is never going to be anything more than a quick fuck, Danny.”

In his desperation, he calls her bluff. “You’re lying.”

Leigh's reaction morphs into a cruel sneer. “If you're going to insist on something more, then we're just wasting our time,” she mutters, turning to leave.

Danny's not ready to let her walk away, not yet. He grabs her arm, and for a second, they're just staring each other down, a silent battle raging between them. Leigh’s resolve is impenetrable.

It’s Danny who cracks first, exhaling a defeated, “Fine.”

But Leigh's not having any half-measures. She whirls around, fire in her eyes. “Nope. Say it properly,” she demands.

With a sigh that feels like he's giving away a part of himself, Danny looks at her, worn and resigned. “This doesn't have to mean anything,” he says even if it’s the last thing he wants.

Leigh locks eyes with him, a storm brewing in her look. Just when Danny thinks it's better to just drop it, she throws him a question out of nowhere. 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” Danny asks, genuinely puzzled.

“About Matt and me... trying for a baby when he... you know.”

“He... he never mentioned anything like that,” he says, feeling the pain she’s radiating. Leigh looks like she’s about to fall apart and all he wants is to be the one to gather her pieces and put them all back together.

No more words follow from Leigh. It's as if the question drained what was left of the conversation. Without warning, she surges forward, her lips meeting Danny’s in a bruising kiss, then she grabs Danny's hands, placing them firmly back on her waist. He gets the message loud and clear, and together they quickly shed their clothes, letting them fall in a heap around their feet. She comes about twelve minutes and thirty seconds later.

-

It's been eight days—not that you're keeping track or anything. But after giving Leigh the heads-up that someone’s been looking for a dog that looks exactly like Visitor, you were kind of expecting she’d at least update you if it really was him or not.

So, when a client strolls in later with Visitor, who's actually called Chico according to the file your secretary slips you, you're a little disappointed it's not Leigh showing up instead. It must have been incredibly tough for her to return Chico to his real family. She invested her heart, time, and not to mention her wallet, into that dog, caring for him as if he were her own.

Thinking she’d be relieved to know he’s in good hands, you send her a text to update her about Chico's visit to the clinic today. You mention how healthy and content he seems, yet you hazard a guess that he's probably missing Leigh too. 

She sees your message right away, and then leaves you on read.

-

Her thing with Danny turns into a late-night ritual, particularly after Drew fails to respond to her following their conversation, not even offering her a guest column in the weeks that followed their talk. Drew continues to invite her for coffee and dinner dates along with his fiancée, but he avoids the topic about the column, so Leigh stops asking.

The hookups are always a post-midnight impulse. She’d find herself sneaking out of her mother's house to meet him, driven by a mix of need and escape, or occasionally, by insomnia. After their moments together, she never lingers in Danny's bed for too long once she's found her satisfaction, eager to shower away his scent from her skin. 

Back at home, she ensures there's no trace of their deed by the time she slips into bed, allowing herself to sleep deep into the middle of the day. This pattern of nocturnal activity and daytime slumber has led her mother to adjust Leigh's responsibilities, moving her to take charge of the afternoon classes instead. This behavior earns her suspicious glances from Jules, but Leigh chooses to ignore them—if Jules isn't interested in reconciling, then she has no right to concern herself with Leigh's personal affairs.

Leigh doesn’t know how she got here, back at the beginning, in an ever messier situation. She can't stop fucking Danny, her emotions for Matt are a rollercoaster—she finds herself forgiving him and cursing him interchangeably a couple of times a day. 

She's astounded this is her life now, seemingly unable to talk herself out of decisions that pull her deeper into chaos.

-

A month later, Leigh becomes a distant memory. Following a series of tumultuous encounters, your life gradually returns to its normal rhythm—quiet, ordinary days filled with clinic work, attending to various cases, meeting new clients, and addressing the myriad issues of small animals. All of these tasks prove easier to deal with than anything involving Leigh Shaw.

The sole noteworthy event in your generally uneventful life lately was your latest visit to a physician for an annual physical exam. The blood tests revealed some numbers outside the normal range, notably elevated cholesterol levels. Consequently, your doctor advised you to integrate exercise into your daily regimen and to reduce your consumption of takeout meals, specifically pizza and Chinese fast food.

It’s a big sacrifice, considering your day usually flies by without much thought for food, except for dinner. It’s the one time in your day you actually look forward to. So, to hold onto that bit of happiness, you've been looking at fitness classes that are actually enjoyable and help burn those extra calories to keep you in shape.

Yoga stands out as the top choice for you, mainly because it all unfolds on a mat. You assume it'll demand the least amount of effort compared to the other options (specifically spinning), which all seem to promise nothing but pain and suffering.

Deciding to give yoga a shot, you choose Beautiful Beast, swayed by its stellar reviews. You secure a slot for a 6pm class, feeling pretty good about this decision.

That is, until Leigh Shaw walks into the said class, clad in a sports bra and tight-fitting leggings that highlight her toned legs. She’s busy on her phone, and without looking up, she walks to the front of the room. 

What are the chances you'd both be in the same class at the same fitness studio? The plot thickens when she pockets her phone and turns to face the class, gesturing for everyone to get their mats ready as the session's about to start.

You swallow hard. Leigh isn't here as a joiner—she's running it.

It takes about a quarter of the session for Leigh to notice you’re in her class. It's only while she's making her rounds, observing each student's camel pose, that her gaze finally lands on you. Struggling through your lack of core strength, you can't quite catch her initial reaction, but then she calls out your name. The surprise makes you gasp as she places her hand on the curve of your spine, just above the small of your back, and gently pushes you upward, deepening your arch. 

The stretch draws a grimace from you, but then she says, “Good, that's it,” and suddenly, you're determined not to let her down. You focus on the pose, on Leigh's instructions, and on not falling apart under her watchful eye. Leigh keeps everyone in the position a few moments longer than expected before instructing the class to transition into the child's pose for recovery. At her cue, your arms collapse, and you find yourself breathing heavily, grateful for the brief respite.

Something tells you it's not the high cholesterol that's going to be the end of you, but rather this yoga class and Leigh's merciless teaching style. 

-

You're all packed up and ready to leave, still reeling from what could easily be the toughest hour of your life, when someone calls out to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

It's Leigh. Her tone is softer, more fatigued than you remember. She’s still in her gym clothes, looking like the workout barely touched her except for a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead. And somehow, she smells more like a rose garden than the gym floor.

“I didn’t know you work here—” you blurt out, almost apologizing. But before you can add anything else, Leigh just shakes her head, something like amusement in her smile, stopping you mid-sentence. Her smile, warm and a little teasing, eases some of the tension you didn't realize you were holding. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” she teases. “Cause yeah, I was going to ask if you were following me.”

You’re quick to deny it. “I wasn’t.”

Leigh lets out a chuckle like she's getting a kick out of seeing you on edge. You shuffle your feet, still unsure if she’s trying to scare you off or welcome you to her tutelage.  

“Look, if it's weird for you, me being here... I can find another class,” you offer, the words tumbling out before you can think them through.

Her reaction is swift and a bit surprising, “Why would I want that? So you can duck out and be a rubbish yogi elsewhere and ruin my reputation?”

You’re taken aback by her response. Clearly, Leigh's not pushing you away; it's almost as if she's egging you on, daring you to stick it out. And if there's any hope of moving past this... whatever it is, leaving now because it might get awkward doesn't seem like the right move to make a fresh start.

“All right, I'll stay,” you find yourself saying, more to your surprise than hers. 

Leigh's got this look of triumph, chin lifted just so, when you agree to stick around. “See you at 5:30. Greenway Park,” she throws out casually.

You're there blinking, trying to piece together what she means. But before you can even get a word out, she's one step ahead. 

“We have to work on your endurance,” she clarifies. “Make sure you’re wearing real running shoes. No sneakers.”

[boowritess]

rubbish days

141 member of your choice x reader

maybe you're the regular barista, bartender or waitress at the cafe/bar he often frequents. or you're the uni student, worker, or just an average civilian he often crosses because you guys happen to live close or frequent the same grocery store? perhaps are on the same bus or train?

but whoever you are, he sees you often enough that the both of you look at eachother with familarity and offer a small nod or smile. and if by chance circumstances lead you both to be close, maybe you both chat about the weather or how busy the day is.

on this particular day, he is so quick to spot you amongst the crowd or maybe turning the corner in a store- honestly it's embarrassing to him how quick he is to catch you in a crowd. he can't help it, you brighten his day.

but this day, your eyes don't meet his. there's no small nod or small smile. rather your face is blank and something is off. he can see it in your eyes and the way you stare blankly in front of you. there's a dullness to them, a slight sadness.

and before he can stop himself, "weathers shit this morning, eh?" he speaks, in that familar deep tone of his that draws your eyes to finally recognize him. though it seems to take a bit. "just bout saw three people slip on the pavement." when there's a lightness that starts to rise he adds, "though i might've been one of them."

his heart nearly fucking gave way when a smile falls on your face and then you laugh and he swears he died. but when you say nothing more and look away for a brief second.

he nudges you softly, barely a nick against your arm but it's enough for you to look up at him. "you alright, sweetheart?" he asks in a gentle tone. though he feels like he shouldn't of asked- because at the end of the day he is a stranger to you other than a familiar face you see in public. before he can apologize, you let out a deep sigh and shake your head. though you don't say anything else.

"then how about i get you something warm to drink? if you're busy we can stop by the coffee cart. it's a rubbish day and something warm might do ya good, though only if you want to, sweetheart." he speaks to you with a softness, in a way that lets you know that you can simply decline and maintain the status between you.

but then you find yourself nodding, and the walls you have built today are cracking when your shoulders slump. "that would be good. thank you." your words are soft and a little cracked but it makes him smile gently and lead the way to get a hot beverage.

maybe you don't say anything about what you're going through. maybe you simply get to know him.

but maybe you do tell him. tell him the weight that has been on your shoulders. tell him all about the current mental struggle going on in your brain since the day wore on or maybe when you first woke up. maybe you tell him about upcoming anxieties from work or uni. or maybe you just tell him you're tired. or how alone you feel at the moment. or how everything is just going down hill.

you don't know why you tell him but when you look at him - well actually when he looks at you, he has an aura that makes it seem he is willing to go to battle with every single thing you say. so you can't help it. especially when all he does is not look at you like a freak - because maybe that's what you feel like - but he looks at you like he truly understands what you're going through.

so when you're finished. there's a hint of regret at having dumped all this onto him. though it's washed away when he takes your hand in his and he offers a soft smile, "thank you for telling me, sweetheart. you've done something not many can and talked about what's going. that's a sort of strength that not many could do and i'm proud of you for doing so."

then he's giving you his number, "whenever you want. whenever you need. day or night. for a talk or even to go do something. i'm yours."

the implication of his words having an unknown deeper meaning.

maybe from there you both stay and chat a little longer. maybe you have to go or he has to get back to what he was doing.

whatever happens next, all he can do is beam with pride when he see's that spark of life in your eyes return. at how you visibly brightened.

from that day forward. the dynamic between you two changed. from strangers to friends. and with the time that you need, friends to lovers.

a/n: ya'll i tried so hard to make it a you choose thang. but i just needed a comfort fic (cause homie is going through it mentally) and didn't know which 141 to choose lol. anyways i hope ya'll are doing okie mentally, physically and maybe spiritually. don't be afraid to reach out whether to me or someone else. ya'll ain't alone- especially my mentally struggling betches i love u and see u. drink some water xx

[smoothies-are-cool]

bad idea

jealous!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris and reader have serious tension until they give in at a party.

warnings: pet names (baby, mama, ma), kissing, swearing, mention of y/n.

a/n: first fic so i hope its gooddd. i wrote this while listening to bad idea by dove cameron so that’s what this is inspired by :))

i met chris sturniolo when i was 16. he and his brothers came into my job and continued to come in everyday until one of them, nick, asked for my number and said he wanted to be friends. ever since then i’ve been super close with all of them.

chris had always been flirty with me and was known as a jealous guy, so when another guy got anywhere near me chris would be pissed. he would always joke about us dating or something and everytime i would tell him that we’re just friends.

8:43 pm - sturniolo residence

i was in nick’s bathroom, sitting on his counter so i could be closer to the mirror. i was touching up the last bits of my makeup for the party the triplets were invited to. they were each allowed one plus one but nick was the only triplet that actually wanted to bring someone. nick told me to hurry up and then left the room to put his shoes on.

getting off the counter i stepped into my dress, struggling to zip it all the way up. luckily for me, chris walked into the bathroom.

“hey you ready?” he asked, leaning against the doorway. he had a slight smirk on his face as he watched me struggle with my dress.

“almost but i can’t get this stupid fucking zipper. can you help me?” i huff, turning around and motioning to the zipper. he walks over to me, moving my hair out of the way, his fingers grazing the back of my neck as he did so.

he grabs the fabric just below the zipper, tugging it down slightly so it’s easier to zip the dress.

“there.” he smiles, moving my hair back to it’s place. the dress was a short, pink dress that hugged my curves perfectly. the heels i wore were short silver stilettos.

“thank you!” i walk past him, grabbing my heels and rushing downstairs. “okay okay i’m ready sorry!” i quickly apologize, all of us walking out the door.

9:15 pm - the middle of nowhere in the car

chris 🤍:

you look good ma

y/n <3:

thank you chris

chris 🤍:

i’m serious.

you look so fucking good

y/n <3:

i know

thank youuu

9:30 pm - the party

when we walk into the house the first thing i smell is weed and alcohol. my stomach churns at the smell. i sigh, already wanted to go home.

“what do we do now?” i ask as all of us stand awkwardly. almost on cue, one of chris’ friends walks up to us.

“YO STURNIOLOOO!” the kid yells, dapping up chris. i groan, immediately smelling the huge cloud of weed that followed him.

“oh my god i love this song!” nick beamed, pulling me towards the crowd of kids dancing. i smile hearing the song, dueces by chris brown playing.

“nick i’m in heels!” i laugh, practically tripping over my own feet. we made it to the dance floor in one piece and nick immediately started dancing. i stood there for a minute before i slowly started moving to the beat of the song. my hips swayed to the beat as one of my hands went in the hair.

“always hoping for the worst, waiting for me to fuck up.” i sing lightly, moving my hips as i slowly dropped closer to the floor. i felt eyes on me but ignored them as me and nick started dancing together.

10:58 pm - the party

me and nick had been dancing for at least an hour and i was so focused on dancing with my best friend that i didn’t even notice the guy come up behind me. when i felt someone grab my arm i quickly turned around.

“hey, i’m cameron.” he greeted, a smile on his face.

“y/n.” i say and he sticks his hand out for me to shake. i hesitate for a second. glancing around my surroundings i spot chris, who’s already looking at me. fuck he looks good. i shake off those thoughts and shake cameron’s hand.

“wanna dance?” i ask. he smiles and nods. we walk further into the dance floor, out of chris’ view. it’s for the sake of cameron because chris would be pissed.

11:03 pm - party still

me and cameron danced to one song before he was pulled away from me.

“hey baby.”

i look up to see chris. he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“who’s this?” chris asked, looking at cameron. chris’s jaw was clenched, he was very obviously pissed off.

“cameron.” cameron tells him.

“cool, so why were you dancing with my girlfriend?” my eyes go wide.

“uh sorry man she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.” cameron apologizes, walking away. i throw chris’s arm off me.

“what the fuck chris?!” i yell, making sure he can hear me over the music. he grabs my wrist and pulls me away from everyone. he walks us upstairs, finding an empty bathroom.

“chris what?” i question, watching as chris locks the bathroom door.

“why were you dancing with him?” he asks, dead serious. i almost laugh.

“because i wanted to have fun? why do you always do this?” i sigh, throwing my hands in the air in anger.

“you know why!” he shouts, my brows furrow together.

“no i don’t chris! you pull this shit every time, i genuinely don’t get it. do you just not want me to happy or something?” i snap, raising my voice even louder than his. one thing i’ve learned in life is that if someone is yelling at you just yell louder than them.

“i just don’t want you with anyone else!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it after saying it.

“shit.” he mutters, going to unlock the bathroom door. i quickly stop him, pushing the door closed.

“no no what do you mean?” i ask, looking up at him. he sighs.

“come on i’d like to think you’re not that stupid.” he moves closer to me, his hand resting on my forearm.

“no.” i shake my head, not wanting to believe it. he’s my best friend’s brother. how would they react? millions of thoughts run through my head. he nods his head and that was all i needed to confirm my suspicions.

“you really didn’t see it? me constantly flirting, calling you names and bringing up us dating. it was right there.” he explains, waiting for my response.

i look up at chris, my eyes meeting his. my breath hitches and my breath quickens.

“chris?” i whisper, inching closer to his face.

“yeah?” he softly says, his hands slowly moving up my arms. i shake my head, placing my hands on his cheeks and pushing my lips against his.

i pull away with a sigh.

“we shouldn’t be doing this chris.” i tell him, moving my hands down to his shoulders. we should be doing this, but yet i still wanted too.

“i know.” he whispers, slowly backing away from me. my eyes soften, realizing he thought i didn’t wanna do this.

i quickly grab his face, connecting our lips once again.

goosebumps ran down my body as chris’ hands went to my hips, lightly pushing my against the wall.

his hands dig into my hips causing me to let out a soft whimper. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth. our tongues fought for dominance. his hands started roaming my body

“you’re so beautiful mama.” chris tells me, pulling away from the kiss and resting his forehead on my own.

i smile, pressing my lips to his again only to be cut off by a pounding on the door. i let out a gasp, jumping.

“y/n are you in there?”

“yeah!” i shout.

“have you seen chris? i can’t find him!” nick screams over the loud music. my eyes go wide.

“no i haven’t seen him.” i lie, looking up at chris who was struggling to get his laughter in.

“can you help me look? matt’s ready to leave.” nick tells me.

“yeah i’ll be out in a minute.” i yell to which i receive an ‘okay’ before he walked away.

me and chris looked up at each other and we bursted out laughing.

“i love you chris.” i tell him, hugging him too.

“i love you more baby.” he hugs me back, his arms going around my torso.

a/n: okay so first fic was written. i hate this icl and it took me like an hour even though it sucked but i kept listening to mesmerize by ja rule and ashanti so i powered through. i hope you like it atleast a little bit <33

@worldlxvlys 🤍

[wassertoffatom]

Hiii I’m loving your little story’s amazing!

16 with our boy Maccready?

Maybe (RJ MacCready x F!Sole)

Main Master List || Prompt Master List

Author's Note: I'm really sorry about this one. My brain connected to my fingers and took it away from me. BUT THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, HEAVY HEAVY MENTIONS OF SUICIDE ATTEMPT, can't stress that enough, it got a tiny bit dark, language, alcohol usage

Word Count: 1.5k

==========

The Commonwealth is awake tonight, brimming with relief and happiness. Everyone heard the loud explosion that rattled what was left of Boston. The dust had settled hours ago, coating the Boston Commons in a thin layer of radioactive fallout. You’re not sure where your team went, but if you had to guess, they’re out celebrating. You should be celebrating with them, but how can you when you have just killed your only son?

So you sit alone, nursing a bottle of aged whiskey as you stare out into the city, contemplating your life these past eight months. Maybe Shaun had a point, you think to yourself, taking a swig of liquid. Maybe the Commonwealth is beyond helping. The thought causes you to freeze. How can you think like that? Despite 70% of the inhabitants trying to kill you, there are still some decent people. Thoughts like that are what formed the Institute. Maybe Shaun did get his messed up ideologies from you.

Shrugging your shoulders, you take another chug from your bottle, eyes peering out from the edge of MassFusion. Struggling to get up, you stagger to the edge, leaning your top half over, gauging the height. If you jumped, death would be guaranteed.

Tears prickle your eyes as you unlatch your pip boy, setting it to the side before stepping onto the edge, body swaying in drunken stupor. Would anyone miss you? What use to them are you now that the Institute is destroyed? Maybe MacCready will miss you, but even then, he got what he wanted. He got his son back. He won’t miss you. He has his son, everyone has someone, and you don’t. Maybe it would be best to join Shaun and Nate in the grave. “I’m sorry, Robert.”

Your leg slips off the edge, closing your eyes, expecting to meet air, but instead your body is thrown to the ground. Either that was a really fast fall or you’re dead. “What the actual hell are you doing?” That’s not Nate’s voice. That’s MacCready’s. Why am I hearing his voice? Is this what the afterlife is like? A pair of arms shake your body vigorously, causing your eyes to open, meeting a pair of very blue, but very angry eyes. “What the heck is your problem?” He drags your body away from the edge toward the center of the roof. 

“Mac? Am I dead?” You try to sit up but he places his body on top of yours, his hands holding your arms to your side.

“Is that what you’re doing? Were you trying to kill yourself?” His voice is strained, trying to hold back his emotion. “Why the fu-frick would you do that?”

You try again to sit up, but he doesn’t budge. In normal circumstances, you would blush with him on top of you, maybe tease him. Now is not that time. Knowing that he caught you, you let out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah, RJ. I was.”

Tears well in his eyes. Why would you do that to him? It’s bad enough Lucy is dead, he does not want another person he cares about dead. And no one would’ve known. “Why?”

Looking away from his heartbroken face, tears spill down your cheeks. “I don’t belong here, Mac. I don’t belong in this world.”

“So what? You’re just going to jump? Not tell anyone? Let some raider find your dead body? What if Piper had found your body? Hancock? Nick? Deacon?”

“Mac.”

“What if I had found your body? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? How could you even think about doing something so… so stupid?!”

“There’s nothing for me here!” You yell out into the night, giving up trying to get out of his grasp. “My husband is dead! My son is DEAD! And I’m all alone,” you sob from underneath him as he looks away, wiping his tears. “I mean, Piper has her sister. Nick has Ellie. Hancock has Fahrenheit. You have Duncan. I have no one.”

MacCready slips off of you, instead pulling you onto his lap and holding you close to his body, terrified that you would try to jump again. One of his hands reaches up to stroke your hair in a vain attempt to sooth you. Looking up into the night sky, MacCready wishes to whoever is out there that they provide him with the words that he wants to say, but has always been scared to. A bright twinkle in the sky catches his eyes and he takes that as a sign. “You have me,” he pauses as your sobs begin to subside, now replaced with sniffles. “I love you, dammit. You’re the most incredible, strong, courageous, beautiful woman I know. You literally walked out of a vault, in a new world, and bared it to find your son. Not a lot of people would have done that. They would’ve given up, seen it as a lost cause, but not you. And even when we weren’t trying to find your son, you still helped people in ways that no one would have done.” You fall silent as he looks straight at you. “Even when given the choice between your son and the rest of the city, you chose the city. You’ve done so much for everyone. You’ve done so much for me. You saved me, from myself. I don’t know what I would do if I hadn’t seen you the second that I did.”

“How did you even see me? I thought everyone would be out celebrating?” MacCready chuckles, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, using his thumb to wipe your cheek.

“I never left. I decided to just stay in the shadows. I knew you needed space and I didn’t want to be a bother, so I just hung around in the shadows. It’s a damn good thing that I did. I didn’t know what you were going to do, but my gut was telling me you were about to do something stupid, so I stepped in.” Both of you fall silent, embarrassment blooming under your cheeks at the thought of actually going through with it right in front of him while he comes down from the adrenaline rush of running over to you and grabbing onto you at the last second before throwing you onto the ground. He didn’t mean to throw you, but if it was throwing you two feet onto the roof or watching you fall 14 stories, he would throw you over and over until he couldn’t no more. 

Reaching back to scratch at the nape of his neck, he averts his eyes to the edge where he had almost lost you before turning his attention back to you. “Look, (Y/N). I know you think that you don’t have anyone here, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m sure that the entire decent half of the Commonwealth would rally behind you if you gave the word. And I know I’m not a lot, but you have me at the very least. You will always have me.”

His words peel at your heart. You’ve always had a soft spot for the mercenary, and fell completely in love with him when he told you his story. And now, hearing him pour out his heart again, this time for you, has you reconsidering your plight. “RJ. You are more than enough.” You surge forward, your lips pressing into his like he’s your lifeline. 

It takes him only a second to realize what is happening, but as he realizes, he’s immediately kissing back, holding you impossibly close, mentally cursing the clothes between the two of you. Not that he’s thinking of sex right now, because he’s definitely not, but he craves the physical intimacy that this moment requires. Pulling away with slight regret, he presses his forehead against, sharp lines of his nose nudging yours in a loving manner. “Please, reconsider. Stay here, alive, with your friends. With me. Stay with me.”

“But what about Duncan?”

“What about him? (Y/N), you and him are the most important people in my life. I would do anything for either of you. Please, stay with me and Duncan. I need you.”

Nodding your head, you wipe the snot from your nose with the back of your hand, trying to make yourself presentable knowing it’s a moot point. “Ok.”

“Okay!” He giggles softly, pulling you back into him, cradling your head as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

“RJ?”

“Hmm?”

“If I did do it. Would you come to my funeral?” 

“I’d bury you next to Nate and Lucy. I mean it. I would do anything for you.”

[darksigns-exe]

draped in a silver light - nick folio x noah sebastian

warnings: swearing, anal fingering (m receiving), anal sex (m receiving), hand jobs

word count: 3.6k

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​​He really doesn’t know how to approach this. But since he’d seen Nicholas and Noah together, he can’t stop thinking about it.

And maybe he’d have an easier time if he found himself thinking about fucking Noah. But the issue is that no matter how hard Nick tries, he can’t get the idea of Noah inside of him out of his mind.  It’s a completely new field for him, but he’s been fantasising about it for a good few weeks now.

He’d graduated from a tight fist around his cock to fingers playing with his ass. And he doesn’t really know how he got there.

Two months ago, he wouldn’t have dared to touch himself like that, although Nick now realises that that has nothing to do with what he does with his roommates or how he feels about them. The fact that he’s now actively considering asking one of them to fuck him feels like the most daunting and out there thing he’s ever done. He still doesn’t know if it’s just because he likes the idea of it, or if he actually feels some kind of attraction to Noah. Making sense of the feelings that rush through his brain has been a little bit of a struggle and, truth be told, he’s tried his best to ignore it for the most part. 

He contemplates forgetting about the whole thing. It’s just a weird phase, he’ll get over it in a couple of weeks. And then things will be back to normal. 

To his luck, Noah seems to be feeling particularly touchy recently.

Nick is getting himself a bottle of water when Noah comes up behind him. Since the revelation that they’ve all been involved with Noah, he’s been a lot more open with his touch. Nick still feels a little hesitant about it, but the more he lets Noah’s hands wander across his body, the easier it becomes to admit that he likes it.

“What’re you doing?” Noah asks as he presses himself up behind Nick.

“Getting something to drink?”

Fingers dance up his side, the touch barely registers with his brain, “Besides that. Are you busy?”

It’s now or never.

Nick braces himself, takes a deep breath in the hope that it’ll settle his mind a little bit. 

“Not right now. But there is something you could do for me.”

Noah perks up at that. He lifts his chin from Nick's shoulder before he tries to get him to turn around. As much as he’d prefer to face the kitchen counter when he asks this, he turns in Noah’s embrace. 

“What’s that?”

“Would you fuck me?” He swallows the last few words, barely manages to get them past his lips.

Noah stares at him blankly.

A long moment passes before he seems to return to his consciousness.

“You want to sleep with me? Like be your first?” He looks like he’s still trying to compute what Nick had asked, and he has to admit that it is a little sweet.

Nick nods, “It’s okay if you don’t want that. I’ve just been thinking about it and —“

He’s cut off with a kiss.

It takes him aback for a moment. This is a level of intimacy he hasn’t crossed yet with Noah, but compared to what he’d just asked him, it’s very insignificant.

“Been thinking about me, huh?” Noah asks softly when he pulls away, “I’m flattered. I’d be more than happy to do it.”

“Thank you.”

“Not for that.” He hasn’t seen Noah this soft before, but he really likes the way he looks at him at this moment, “Should thank you for trusting me with this. I know it’s a big step for you.”

Nick feels himself flush, and Noah smiles in response.

“You know, you look really cute when you blush like that. Is it okay if I kiss you again?”

Nick swallows, “Please.”

One of Noah’s hands comes to cover his cheek, as he leans in. The first brush of his lips is so gentle that Nick almost misses it. He moves to meet Noah, suddenly needing to feel him so much closer. Kissing him feels surprisingly easy. And with Noah’s lead, it’s not long before Nick parts his lips for him. His grip on Noah’s shirt tightens in a desperate attempt to keep himself grounded. He sighs against Noah’s lips when he feels the other's arm snake around his back.

It’s never felt like this before.

They’re both breathless when they part. Noah doesn’t stray very far from him, though, and in a way Nick is glad.

“Could kiss you forever.” Noah admits quietly, “Do you want to come upstairs with me?”

Nick can’t say no. His mind is still buzzing with the way Noah had kissed him, and he absolutely has to feel more.

“We don’t have to go there right now, but — kinda want to have you to myself for a bit.”

The way Noah talks to him makes his brain short circuit a little. It’s so dizzying.

As soon as the door is closed behind them, Noah is back on him. Noah pulls Nick onto the bed with him. His lips trail down his jaw and neck until they settle in an especially sensitive spot. He sighs when he feels Noah leave his mark there. His own hands wander across Noah’s back and sides. He weaves his hands into Noah’s hair, desperate to keep his lips on his skin.

One of Noah’s hands dips under his shirt. Despite the fact that he’s touched Noah in a much more intimate way before, this feels completely new. Knowing what could come after this makes Nick feel as if he’s doing this for the very first time again. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” Noah asks, fingers still tracing across his skin. 

Nick gives a weak nod. 

“Sit up for me.” 

He does as Noah asks. Noah slowly lifts the hem of his shirt. He’s so careful with it, making sure not to rustle Nick too much. As soon as the fabric is gone, Noah’s hands trail across his chest and tummy. The gentle touch sets his nerves on fire. 

Noah continues his earlier path from his neck down across his chest. 

Nick drops back against the mattress. Noah follows him, by now kissing the soft of his belly. 

“Tell me if something is too much, okay? We’ll only go as far as you’re comfortable.” The words are immediately followed by the softest kisses. 

This is the most cared for he’s ever felt while being intimate with someone, and it feels a little scary to think about. 

He feels teeth graze across the skin above his hipbone. Nick whines in response, and Noah does it again, this time nipping him just a little bit more. He soothes the sting with a soft kiss before he looks up at Nick. 

“You’re so responsive.” He notes, “Why did you hide these pretty sounds from me?”

Noah’s thumb traces across the faint red mark on his hip, “Too shy, huh? Don’t have to be. This is just for us.” 

He’s never seen Noah like this. During the few times when Nick had found himself in Noah’s bedroom, things were always lust-driven. But this soft and gentle side of him is something else.  

Noah takes his own shirt off, letting it fall somewhere to the side. Nick lets his hands wander across his skin, watching his skin prickle when he traces his fingers across the intricate lines of Noah’s tattoos. 

“It’s just all so new.” Nick replies barely above a whisper. 

“I know.” Noah laces his fingers between his, “We’ll take this at your pace.” 

Nick feels his heart thump a little against the inside of his rib cage. He really doesn't know if anyone’s ever been this gentle with him. 

“If you ever feel like you need a break, just let me know, okay?” 

He lets Noah undress him. 

He’s been bare in front of him before, so it’s not that difficult. Except this time, his mind is not consumed by need. He has time to think about how good Noah’s hands feel on his skin, how pretty Noah looks when he looks up at him through his lashes. His skin feels so hot with the attention Noah gives him. Every kiss against his belly makes him feel a little bit lighter. 

“Lift up for me, honey.”

The pet name sears right through him. He’s sure that Noah doesn’t miss the sound he makes in response to it. 

He does as Noah asks, lifting his hips so that Noah can pull his boxers down. He draws in a sharp breath when the cool air of Noah’s room hits his skin. 

Noah presses a kiss to his hip, one lower, dangerously close to the base of his cock. He lets his eyes fall shut when Noah takes him into his hand. He’s so gentle with it, barely brushing his fingers along his length. 

“Are you still good with this happening today?” Noah asks quietly. 

He nods, “I want you.”

The smile he gets in return is dazzling. 

“Do you?” Noah comes up to face him, “Well, how could I say no to that?”

Noah leans over him, bracing himself with an arm next to his head. 

“You’ll be the death of me, I hope you know that.” Noah leans down to kiss him so sweetly. 

Nick doesn’t get to question the depth of what Noah has said, as he quickly makes his way back to his previous position. 

“Spread your legs a little more.” 

Noah’s hands are so warm and soft on his thighs. Nick has to will his legs to do what he wants them to do. Noah’s gentle push helps a little. 

“I’m gonna do this as slow as I can. It might sting a little, okay?”

Noah doesn’t know that he’s already done a little bit of experimenting himself. It never felt quite right, though, the angle was always just a little bit off. But Nick knows that he will make it feel good. 

Noah pulls the familiar tube of lube from his bedside table. He squirts a little bit of it onto his fingers, working it for a moment, before he traces the tip of his middle finger between Nick's thighs. At first, he just brushes them over the tight ring of muscle, not quite pushing inside yet. The tip of Noah’s finger slips in a little easier than either of them expect. Nick holds his breath while Noah slowly works his finger into him. He’s gotten this far on his own. 

“This the first time you’re doing this?” Noah asks quietly, “Letting someone touch you like this?”

“I – tried it on my own, but –” his words curl into a moan when Noah’s finger brushes against something inside of him. 

Above him, Noah smiles almost wickedly, “Played with yourself? What were you thinking about when you did it?”

Nick needs a moment to gather his wits again. The slow drag of Noah’s finger inside of him makes his head feel all fuzzy and out of focus. 

“Come on, baby, tell me.” 

Nick can’t stop the noise he makes, and Noah instantly stops moving. 

“Nick?” The concern that seeps from him shouldn’t warm Nick’s chest as much as it does. 

“You.” He chokes out, “Was thinking about you.”

The concern is quickly replaced by an amused smile, “Were you now? You wanna tell me more?” 

His finger resumes the same slow rhythm as before, slowly curling inside of him. 

“Just you and — how good you’d feel.” 

Nick’s words catch in his throat when he feels a second finger pushing inside of him. His chest feels so tight with the breath he is holding, and eventually, he can’t stop the whine from falling from his lips. It’s a breathy little sound, more high-pitched than Nick is comfortable with. 

“Does it feel as good as you thought?” Noah asks softly. 

His free hand returns to Nick’s cock. The movements are slow, barely enough to register. But between the fingers curling inside of him and the hand around him, Nick feels so dizzy already. 

Noah manages to keep him right on the edge. Nick doesn’t know how he’s able to read him so easily. It seems like Noah knows exactly when he needs to slow down and when he can push him a little further. He’s never felt like this before. 

It’s not just the care Noah shows him. Whatever he’s doing feels so much more intense than his previous encounters have. Nick lets himself get lost in the feeling of Noah’s hands on his body. The soft push and pull of his touch fills his mind with fuzz. He thinks that he could easily come undone just from this. 

His hands tangle into the sheets beneath his body, desperately trying to ground himself. And just when Nick thinks that he’s about to tumble over the edge, Noah’s hands retreat from his body. He lets out a protesting whine. 

“Shh.” Noah places his hand on Nick's waist, “You’ll get what you want in a moment. Be patient.”

Nick’s eyes follow Noah as he climbs off the bed for a moment. He watches as Noah strips from his clothes. His eyes drift across the other's lean body. 

Even before they had started this, Nick had been aware of how good Noah looked. But since they’ve gotten close like this, he’s earned a new appreciation for it. He likes the little crinkles around Noah’s eyes when he smiles, the way his hands are always so soft and warm. 

Sure, there’s the obvious things, but lately Nick has found himself drawn to the details. The little intricate brush strokes on the greater canvas so to speak. 

A hand comes into his field of vision, to brush a few stray bits of hair from his forehead. 

“You look cute when you get lost in your thoughts like that.” 

It had made his insides feel like jello when Noah had said it earlier in the kitchen, but now it truly feels like his undoing. 

Noah positions himself in his previous spot between his thighs. 

Seeing him looking over him like this does make Nick a little nervous. He wants this, he needs it, but he can’t deny that it is a little scary. 

Noah laces their fingers together, before he leans down over him. 

“You’ll be, okay? Just tell me if something doesn’t feel good.”

His lips brush against Nick’s just barely. 

Nick’s free hand tangles into the hair at the back of Noah’s neck to keep him close. Noah lets out a breathy little laugh, before he dips back down again, this time kissing him properly. 

Nick doesn’t think that he’ll ever get enough of this. Suddenly, he doesn’t know how he’s ever gone without kissing him in the first place. 

He feels a little light-headed when Noah pulls away from him. Noah’s cheeks are flushed so prettily, his lips spit-slicked and kiss-swollen. He’s never been prettier. Nick wishes that he could capture and frame the moment. 

He knows what comes next and to preserve a shred of his sanity, Nick lets his eyes fall shut. 

He tries to focus on the breaths he draws into his lungs when he feels hands pushing his thighs apart. 

“It’ll be cold for a second.” Noah says calmly. 

He does tense a little when he feels the cool lube against his skin. 

“Ready?”

The warm hand against his side flexes a little, catching his attention. 

“Ready.”

It feels nothing like he’d expected. 

Then again he didn’t really know what to expect either. 

The stretch is a lot. He knows what Noah is working with, he’s seen and touched him often enough by now. But Noah moves slowly as he eases his cock into him. He keeps one hand on Nick’s waist, thumb softly tracing across his skin. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. Almost got it.” 

Baby.

His jaw drops open when he feels Noah settle against him. 

Noah’s head is dropped back, exposing his tattooed neck entirely. His hand flexes against his waist over and over again, as if he’s trying to soothe himself.  

“Oh fuck.” He speaks more to himself than to Nick. 

Nick squeezes their still joined hands. 

Noah draws in another shaky breath before he finally looks at him with glassy eyes. 

“You feel so good around me.” Noah’s words break off into a soft moan, “Gotta give me a moment.” 

Nick brings his hand to Noah’s waist. The muscles beneath his skin jump when he makes contact, and Noah almost doubles over. 

Nick slowly eases him down to him again. 

“Kiss me some more?”

Noah breaks into a smile and wordlessly meets him in another kiss. His lips part willingly for Noah, when his tongue brushes against them. He absolutely has to feel all of him. 

His mind empties out entirely when they kiss, and he has to agree with what Noah said earlier. He could kiss him forever if given the option. 

Nick almost doesn’t notice when he starts to move his hips. 

His arms wrap around Noah’s body, forcing him to stay close like this. If it were up to Nick, there wouldn’t be an inch between them. 

Noah’s lips skate along his jaw and down to his neck. They halt just above the junction of his neck and shoulder. Noah places a few tender kisses against his skin before he feels the tell-tale bite of a love bite being seared into his flesh. His hand curls around the back of Noah’s head. Nick is sure that he feels Noah whisper something against his neck. 

“Noah.” He sighs, when he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of him. 

Noah drags himself up, “How do you feel, baby? Is it good?”

“Make me feel so good.” He chokes out between moans, “Not gonna last long.”

“I know.” Noah's hips snap against him involuntarily, “Feels too good.”

With how close Noah is to him, his tummy grinds against Nick’s cock with every move he makes. He’s so very close to his undoing already. And judging from how unsteady Noah’s thrusts have become, he's not much better off. 

Nick manages to bring his face into focus just before the first wave of his climax barrels through him. He’s sure that he mirrors the blissed out look on Noah’s face. 

Feeling Noah spill inside of him is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. His own load spills across his tummy and up to his chest as he gives himself to the ecstasy of it. 

Eventually, Noah comes to rest against his body. He stays like this for a moment, covering Nick’s body with his. 

Their chest heave in sync. 

Nick swears that he can feel the pounding of Noah’s heart against his skin.  

He lets his fingers trail through Noah’s hair and down along his back. 

He’s sure of it now. 

As new as it is, Nick knows what the feeling in his chest is. 

Feeling this way for another guy hadn’t been something he’d ever thought would happen, but when he thinks about Noah like that, his body feels so incredibly light.

“Noah.” 

He doesn’t react immediately and instead remains where he is, heavy and comfortable against Nick’s chest. 

“I think I love you.” 

His heart pounds so hard in his chest. 

Noah shifts against him. 

A kiss is pressed against his shoulder, before Noah lifts himself upwards. 

“You do?”

He can tell that Noah is trying his hardest to hide the emotions on his face. It very much does not work. 

Nick nods, “Took me a moment to realise it, but I’m sure of it now.”

“Can you say it again?” 

Nick doesn’t miss the hint of insecurity in his voice then. 

His palm finds the side of Noah’s face, “I love you.”

The smile that forces its way onto Noah’s face is almost blinding. There’s a trace of relief to the way his head drops just a little. 

“I’ve been — I’ve tried so hard to put that all away because you’ve never shown interest in guys before. And then you walked in on me and all of this happened — I thought it would just be physical. And the longer we did it, the more you came to me, the harder it got to hide it. Didn’t think that you ever feel like this for me.” 

His confession burns in Nick’s chest. He’s had an idea of how Noah feels, but actually hearing it out loud makes it all real. 

Noah dips down to kiss him again, all soft and sweet. 

“I love you. Have for years.” Noah says finally. 

Nick leans up to kiss him again, and he feels Noah smile against his lips. 

Noah sinks back into bed once he’s cleaned them both up and disposed of the condom. Nick hesitates for a brief moment, before he curls up against Noah’s side. Against his expectations, it doesn’t feel odd at all. In fact, he thinks that he’s never felt more at ease. 

“Nick?”

“Hm?”

“I think I know the answer, but I gotta ask. Are we — are we a thing now?”

“Is this you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Maybe.”

“I just told you that I love you.”

Noah shifts next to him, “I just want to be sure.”

He knows how insecure Noah gets sometimes. And he really doesn’t want him to be insecure about this. 

“I want a real first date, though.”

Noah laughs, and it makes Nick feel all warm inside. 

“You can have as many dates as you want.”

“And I want flowers. I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“That’s criminal. I’ll remedy that as soon as possible.” He falls quiet for a moment then, “Say you’re mine then?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

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