#r we ready for this to be my whole personality again

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist

Your hand is shaking again.

It’s a defense mechanism or something, you think. Some physical manifestation of your anxiety. Something psychological, you’re sure of it.

It’s the only thing you’re sure of, if you’re being honest.

You stalk home as fast as you can, scowl affixed to your face like it’s been cemented there, seeping deep into your frown lines, etching them like a chisel on marble.

The walk sobers you. Brings you back to rational sense, little by little.

You shouldn’t have called them. You’re so dumb. You’re asking for trouble.

But is it so bad, to want to cause an emotional reaction? To want them to be as miserable as you?

It’s pathetic. A way to seek validation. A mistake.

One you’re sure you’re going to pay for.

Your front door is unlocked.

The door pushes open nearly on its own, and your eyes struggle to adjust in the pitch black of your hallway. No light from the street spills from the living room, which means the drapes have been drawn closed.

Your heart leaps into your ears, pounding between your temples at a frenzied pace.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s probably them.

What if it’s not? Do you have a weapon? A way to defend yourself? You find your pepper spray in your bag, readying it between trembling fingers.

“Hello?” You call.

Nothing.

“Hello… if you’re in my flat, you better-“ a firm hand grips back of your neck, like a viper assaulting its prey, and you scream.

“It’s me.” Simon murmurs into your hair, touching over your pulse. “Jus’ me.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” you twist out of his grip, fumbling for the lights.

When they flick on, you blink a few times to adjust.

He’s a sight for sore eyes in joggers, a black sweatshirt, black hat.

His eyes burn. They scald you, roving from top to toe, his mouth sealed in a scowl. “Have a nice night, sweetheart?”

You gulp. “I- I did.”

“Thought you were clever with that phone call?”

“I… I didn’t think-“

“You didn’t.” He cuts you off, and then points to living room. “Go sit on the couch.” Your hand trembles against your chest, and you hang your head.

Got the attention you wanted?

“Where’s Johnny?” You whisper as he takes the seat next to you, massive shoulders turning so he can peer downwards.

“Decided this was better to handle on my own.” Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.

“Oh.” Simon takes a deep breath, eyeing your shaking hand, and then shakes his head. You can’t read it, can’t ever read him, and you wait with breath frozen in your lungs, wait for him to say something, anything.

But what comes next, is not what you expected.

“Johnny’s in love with you.” You jerk back, eyebrows raised into your hairline.

“No.” Your voice trembles. “No, this… this is casual.”

“It is.” Simon’s lips press flat. “The girl at the hotel, she was a job. Had nothin’ to do with our… personal lives. She was a loose end to tie up when we got back. It was convenient, that she lived in our city.” Your mind tumbles and falls, your sense dives off a cliff.

Johnny’s in love with you.

“I don’t understand… you, after-“

“I let you believe it.” He says simply, looking down his nose at you. He’s never looked so cold. “At first, I wanted to explain, to correct it, for his sake, but… the opportunity was too good. So I told Johnny that you reminded me of our arrangement. That you agreed, that you always said you didn’t want a relationship. The situation at the bar with your date,” he smiles self indulgently “that was just for fun. Would’ve fucked ya right up against that door for the whole bar to see if you let us. Split that pretty pussy open on my cock and watch you gag on Johnny’s, but you still wanted to be a brat,” he rolls his eyes, “it was all a distraction I built for him.”

Alarm bells blare inside your skull, Johnny’s words from the other day when he brought the flowers repeating over and over.

“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“

“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.”

“No- no. He… he came here, he made it sound-“

Simon studies you. “He’s explosive, sometimes. Doesn’t handle his emotions well, gets all twisted up. I think when he came over here, he wanted you to tell him you wanted more,” he sighs, rubs his chin. “He’s so out of sorts over it all, poor boy.”

“Why? Why didn’t you… why didn’t you tell him the truth? Or me?” His lips curl into a sneer.

“Because Johnny is mine. I might share his body with you, sweet girl, but I won’t share his heart.”

[lowkeyhollland]

best of both worlds

peter park x stark!reader 4.2k words mix it all together & you know you get the best of both worlds

“I just don’t understand why I can’t know who Spider-Man is,” you grabbed yesterday’s unfinished iced coffee from the fridge and closed it. “I know everyone else’s identity, Dad. Why not this one? 

“Y/n, I love you, but��” Your dad started but was rudely interrupted. 

“You’re a yapper!” Sam yelled from across the kitchen and Bucky started laughing with him as you shot them a glare. 

“Okay, who taught them that?” You crossed your arms as the two kept laughing.

“I’m sorry, princess. But it’s true,” your dad laughed with them while you rolled my eyes. He messed with your hair and kissed the top of your head. “You can’t keep a secret to yourself.”

“You told the whole world you’re Iron Man,” You rebutted, and ‘oohs’ erupted from the small crowd. “Plus, the only person I tell is Peter.”

“What about when you told Ned you were going with us to Germany,” Bucky said.

“I had to tell my teachers I would be gone and he was curious,” You shrugged and took a sip from your coffee. 

“Hi, Mr. Stark.” Just then, the man of the hour, Spider-Man swung into the kitchen. Well, he walked into the kitchen. “I might be gone–” he stopped mid-sentence when he saw you. “Y/n! Hi!”

“Hello, Spider-Man,” You narrowed your eyes at him and he spun his head around. 

“Did I do something?” His voice squeaked and you narrowed my eyes even more. 

“She’s just upset that we won’t tell her your identity,” Tony informed him. 

“If I just keep guessing who you are, will you tell me if I’m right?” You batted your eyelashes at the masked hero as you put on the sweetest smile. You could tell he was smirking as he let out a soft chuckle while shaking his head.

“I doubt you’ll guess correctly, sweetheart.” He crossed his arms and Tony’s flickered between the two of you, a faint smirk forming on his lips. A small blush crept onto your cheeks at the nickname. 

“All I’m saying is everyone in the Hannah Montana universe was stupid because they couldn’t put two and two together,” you mumbled as you grabbed a granola bar from the pantry.

“But how were they stupid if they never heard Miley sing? They had nothing to compare her to.” Spider-Man started the counter-argument and you raised your eyebrows, turning to face him and straightening out your back. 

“At every concert, the artist speaks to the audience. How did they not notice that Miley and Hannah sounded the same when speaking? Or even her mannerisms.” You eyed Spider-man cautiously as he grabbed an apple. 

“Alright, one of you can’t be in here if you are going to remove your mask.” Your dad pointed to the both of you and you rolled my eyes.

“It’s fine, I’m leaving for school anyway.” You slung your backpack on and grabbed your car keys. “Bye Dad, love you. Bye, guys! See you later.” 

“Wait, are you picking up Parker?” Your dad yelled and your eyes widened. 

“Shit! I’m late!” You yelled and ran out the door to the car. 

“Drive safe!” You heard your dad’s voice in the distance while seeing a flash of red leaving the tower. Interesting. 

– – –

You frantically knocked on Peter’s apartment door. It swung open and Peter smiled and was breathing heavily. “Hi,” he sighed and smiled. 

“Hi,” You smiled back at him. “You ready?”

“Yeah! Let’s go.” He walked out and locked the door and the two of you hurried to your car. 

You were speeding down the road, not trying to be late for the second day. “Y/n/n! Slow down!” Peter grabbed the car handle and sat straight back in his seat. 

“Oh please, I’m only ten over. I cannot be late again. Mrs. Smith threatened to give me a week’s worth of detention if I was late to her class… again. ” You stopped at the red light and took a sip from your coffee and Peter scoffed. 

“As if they’d ever give Tony Stark’s daughter detention.”

“You’d be surprised,” you said under your breath. “Hey, weird question.”

“What’s up?” Peter looked over giving you, his chocolate brown eyes full of wonder and ready to tackle whatever question you had to say. 

“Did you watch Hannah Montana as a kid?” And just like that, all the wonder was drained from his eyes and his mouth formed a line. 

He knew he had to be careful of what he would say in this conversation in case it reminded you of Spider-Man this morning. It wasn’t that Peter didn’t trust you. No, not at all, he trusted you with his entire life. You were his best friend, but Tony had advised him to keep his secret identity to a limited number of people in case it spread like wildfire. 

“Not really, why?” 

“Nothing, I just got into an argument with Spider-Man today.” You grumbled, looking in your blindspot to switch lanes, seeing Midtown was coming up on the left. 

“It won’t ever shock me how easily you can just casually mention superheroes.” Peter took your coffee and took a sip from it. His face scrunched up and he immediately gagged. “How much sugar did you put in this?!”

“It’s from Dunkin’! You know I always get three packs of sugar with my Dunkin’ coffee.” Peter shook his head as he handed it back to you before you both got out of the car. 

“And every time, I forget how disgustingly sugary your Dunkin’ order is.”

“It's not my fault you like your coffee black. You know, you have to be some psychopath to like straight-up black coffee.” 

“Sorry, you have the palette of a five-year-old.” You gasped at the comment and lightly pushed Peter away as you walked through the school doors.

“Whatever, I’ll see you later.” You playfully rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face before walking away to your first period. 

“See you!” Peter exclaimed, a smile forming on his face as he admired you from afar.

– – –

“I was team Jake because I had a thing for blondes, but then when he cheated on Miley, I was so heartbroken my dad had to watch me to make sure I didn’t throw up from crying so hard.” Ned and Peter listened to you intently as you rambled on about your favorite childhood show. MJ would look up from her book now and then to nod at you to show she was listening. 

“How were you not team Jesse right away? I mean, even I was head over heels for him,” Ned argued with you about the teen heartthrobs. 

“I don’t know, Jake was so charming to six-year-old me. I just couldn’t not fall in love with him. He was always so smooth with everything.”

“So, the opposite of Peter?” MJ raised an eyebrow and smirked while you let out a giggle. 

“Exactly.” You agreed with her while Peter’s mouth hung open. 

“Okay well, Miley didn’t even have to tell Jesse she was Hannah. He figured it out himself because he was so in love with her while Miley had to put the wig on in front of Jake.” Peter smugly said. You stared at him as he proudly smiled at himself.

“I thought you didn’t watch the show,” you mumbled and Peter’s cheeks flushed pink. 

“I mean, not really, but– okay fine,” Peter sighed knowing you had caught him in a lie. “I was the biggest Hannah Montana fan out there. I used to perform just like her in our living room.” The whole table burst into laughter and his entire face went red.

“Please tell me May has videos!” You said in between laughs and you heard your best friend grumble something. 

“Is that why there were purple Hannah Montana sheets in your linen closet?” Ned asked, wiping away tears. 

“It’s okay, Pete. My go-to karaoke song is ‘Best of Both Worlds.’” You smiled in an attempt to make him feel better. He gave you a tight lip smile, knowing no one would let him forget about this. “But, back to this Jake and Jesse discourse,” you circled the conversation back on track. “Would you say Jesse only found out because he was so insanely in love with her?” You watched as Peter thought about the question for a while. You couldn’t help but smile as you admired the way his brown curls fell on his head perfectly or how he bit his lower lip a little as he concentrated. 

“Yes, I believe so.” And that was all the information you needed. 

– – –

Peter walked into the living room of the compound, following the echoes of your laughter. He furrowed his eyebrows together when he saw you throwing a laughing fit over something on your phone. 

“Are you… okay?” Peter cautiously asked. You motioned for him to sit next to you on the couch, still laughing. 

“Look– look at what May sent me,” you managed to get out. Peter looked at your phone and saw a video of six-year-old him singing ‘I Got Nerve’ into a remote, dancing around the living room like he was a pop star. 

“Oh my god,” he mumbled under his breath, horrified. He quickly grabbed your phone away and held it up as you protested against it. 

“No! Peter give it back!” You exclaimed climbing over him to take back your phone. 

“Nu-uh!” A playful smile formed on his lips when he switched which hand held the phone. You were both laughing and messing around until you lost your balance and he caught you under his arm, pulling you close to him so you wouldn’t fall off the couch. Your faces were inches apart and you were praying your face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

“Hi,” you whispered to him, staring into his big brown eyes.

“Hi,” he mumbled back, his eyes flickering down to your lips. His action didn’t go as unnoticed as he had hoped when you smirked back at him. It wasn’t uncommon for you two to be so close to each other, but the position you were in was definitely different than most times. You know, being quite literally on top of him and everything. 

“Can I have my phone back, please?” You batted your eyelashes at him. Peter gulped and nodded, not trusting anything that might come out of his mouth. You slowly got off on top of him and sat at the end of the couch and Peter tossed you your phone as you threw your legs over his lap. 

“Now delete the video,” Peter demanded. You were taken aback by his tone and couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I top him once and I don’t even get a thank you,” you jokingly said and he rolled his eyes. 

“Y/n, seriously.”

“Fine,” you grumbled and deleted the video against your will. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He smiled at you but the nickname took you by surprise. You furrowed your eyebrows together and looked at your best friend.

“Wait, why are you even here? I didn’t invite you over.” You realize Peter just appeared out of nowhere. 

“She tops me once and thinks she’s in control of me,” he jokes around and you lightly kick his leg. 

“You fucking wish, Parker.” You laughed at how red his face had turned while his eyes widened. 

“I- uh, I have that internship with your dad, remember?” He answered your question, ignoring the comment you made. You silently mouthed an ‘oh,’ completely forgetting about the internship.

“What do you even do for the internship? I’ve never seen you here doing anything else but hanging out with me.” You eyed your best friend suspiciously as he squirmed around avoiding your eye contact.

“I– uh, you know, I do… stuff.” He scratched the back of his neck, his eyebrows furrowing together once more. 

“What kind of… stuff?” You raised an eyebrow at him and could’ve sworn you heard him gulp. 

“I… repair their suits! Yeah, I do that,” Peter said almost like he was trying to convince himself. 

“So why are you here today? No one has been on a mission in like a month.” Your suspicions were rapidly going up by the minute. Why would your best friend lie about what he does for your dad? Unless… No, that's crazy, you thought. 

“I was upgrading Spider-Man’s suit,” Peter’s face fell. Shit. Alarms were going off in his head, hoping you wouldn’t catch onto anything. But another part of him was hoping you would. He thought maybe he should just come clean. Right here, right now. He watched as you eyed him up and down, biting your lower lip. 

“Fun.” He sat there shocked. Fun? That was all you had to say? 

“Yeah, super fun.” He let out a sigh as he sat further back on the couch. You looked at him curiously, opening and closing your mouth like you had something to say. He looked at you, questioning your movements, but you just shook your head. “I should… probably get back to your dad.” He lifted your legs off his lap and you just nodded. 

“Yeah, don’t want to upset Tony Stark,” you scoffed and he smiled. 

“Maybe tomorrow after I’m done, we can watch a movie?” Peter suggested, but you had other plans. 

“Tomorrow’s Bachelor night,” you smirked and you could have sworn you saw Peter’s face light up.

“Oh, I don’t want to miss the girls fighting. Save me a seat next to you,” he winked and you felt your cheeks start to blush. “I’ll see you later.” Peter messed with your hair and kissed the top of it. You sat there in shock while he walked away, eyes wide and face red once he realized what he had done. 

– – –

“Mr. Stark, I don’t think I can keep it a secret from her any longer.” Peter stood next to his mentor as they worked on his suit together, the memory of him kissing your head replaying over and over again. Tony sighed and looked at Peter.

“If you want to tell her, kid, you can. No one’s stopping you.” He tilted his head to the side as he sighed again. His answer took Peter aback. 

“But you told me I shouldn’t tell her.” His mouth hung open, still shocked at Tony’s response. 

“I only said that in hopes of keeping my daughter safe.”

“But she’s constantly surrounded by other superheroes. And, no offense, but she’s your daughter.” Peter bluntly said and Tony let out a dry chuckle. 

“I know.”

“So, why did you tell me to keep it from her in the first place?” Peter looked around confused. 

“Because she’s already surrounded by enough heroes as it is.” Tony made it seem like it made total sense, but Peter just stood there stunned. 

“So?” He felt bad giving his mentor attitude, but he was so confused and lost at what to do and the responses he was receiving. 

“So,” Tony exaggerated. “If she’s seen with Spider-Man, she can, you know, attract danger.” 

“But she’s already seen with– I’m so confused, Mr. Stark.” Peter’s eyes pleaded for a clear response and Tony groaned. 

“Again, if she’s seen with Spider-Man, she can get hurt. I just want my precious daughter to be safe, is that too much to ask for?”

“But she’s always seen with you guys. I don’t understand.” Peter was so confused he thought his head was going to explode for feeling so dumb. 

“If she is seen with Spider-Man–” Tony tried to emphasize. 

“Yes, I get it, but–”

“Oh my God, do I have to spell it out for you? Kid, we all know you’ve been in love with Y/n ever since you met the girl!” Peter stood there dumbfounded. 

“What? I– no I am not– I mean no offense, but–” Peter’s words were all jumbled together as his cheeks flushed pink. 

“What’s Parker rambling on about now?” Steve asked as he walked through the doors of the lab. 

“Trying to convince me he’s not in love with my daughter,” Tony bluntly said, turning back to work on the suit. Steve burst into laughter and Peter’s face fell. 

“Oh, Parker, anyone can see that you’re head over heels for her from miles away.” Peter’s entire face had turned red from embarrassment. 

“Okay, so maybe I am—“

“And you are,” Tony mumbled. Peter shot him a look before continuing. 

“Why does that have to interfere with me being Spider-Man? She’s my best friend, I’m tired of lying to her all the time when she’s already a part of this sort of lifestyle!” Peter threw his hands up in frustration. 

“It’s up to you, Parker. But if Spider-Man is seen with any sort of love interest, criminals can take advantage of that. And it’s your responsibility to make sure my daughter gets home safe.” Tony pointed his finger into Peter’s chest. The kid gulped and nodded before returning their attention to his suit. 

— — —

“I’m home!” You yelled through the compound. Walking into the kitchen, you saw a familiar red suit rummaging through the fridge. “Hello, Spider-Man.” You announced. He whipped his head around, causing him to almost hit it on the door. 

“H-Hey, Y/n!” He scratched the back of his neck and you eyed him suspiciously. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. It’s Bachelor night, are you gonna watch with us?” You swirled your iced coffee in your hand before taking a sip. 

“Yeah!” Spider-Man responded. “I mean, uh, well. I will be watching it just not… here.” Peter looked around nervously under the mask, debating if he should just tell you his secret right now. But Tony’s words rang in his head about the danger it could put you in. He watched as you used the straw to mix your coffee even more and nodded to his words. 

“You should watch with us,” you suggested. “You can finally meet my best friend, Peter.” 

Peter almost collapsed when you suggested that his alter ego should stay for ‘family night.’ You had never hung out with Spider-Man that often, always running around to see other people outside of the compound. The fact that you were inviting him was almost out of character. 

“Only if I get to sit next to you, pretty girl,” Peter smirked under the mask getting caught up in the moment, watching you almost spit out your coffee. 

“Woah there, Spidey. You’re getting bold over there.”

“Can’t help myself when you’re probably the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.” You couldn’t help but smile because you assumed who might be under the mask. Getting up from your seat, you walked over to the masked hero and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Maybe I can say the same about you if you just, I don’t know, take this little thing off.” You wrapped your fingers around the edge of the mask and could feel his heartbeat going crazy. Peter gulped as you continued to mess with the mask. It was harmless flirting, right? If he told you he was Spider-Man, it wouldn’t put you in too much danger because you two were just… friends. Right? 

“Is that coffee good?” Peter tried to change the topic, now feeling very strange watching you flirt with his alter ego instead of his true self. You removed your arms from him and grabbed your coffee, handing it to him. 

“Do you wanna try it? It’s good. Trust.” You reassured him. He grabbed the coffee from your hands and lifted his mask just right under his nose. 

As he swirled the straw around to mix the coffee around more, you couldn’t help but notice Spider-Man’s thin lips. How familiar they looked. He brought the straw up to his mouth and took a sip but immediately gagged. 

“Is this from Dunkin’?” He asked and you smirked. That was all the information you needed. 

— — — 

You knocked on Peter’s door. He had texted you earlier, saying he had something important to tell you and it couldn’t be over text or call. You had a feeling that he was finally going to tell you his secret. Peter swung the door open and smiled, cheeks turning pink. 

“Hi,” he breathlessly said. You weren’t quite sure why he was out of breath, but you just assumed it was nerves. 

“Hi,” you responded back. He let you into his apartment and you followed him to his room. You took in his room, smiling at his dorky Star Wars posters. Walking over to his desk, you noticed a picture of you and him. It was blurry and you were both laughing, your arms wrapped around his neck while his arms were around your waist. “This is new,” you told him, picking the picture up. 

“Oh! Yeah,” Peter’s face turned red but he walked up behind you to look at the picture, placing a hand loosely over your hip. “MJ took that picture from a few weeks ago. It’s my favorite.” He smiled down at you, taking in your features as you continued to stare at the frame. 

“It’s cute,” you turned around, your breath hitched seeing his face just inches from yours. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, those lips, and it reminded you of why you were here. You set the picture back down and walked away from Peter, already missing the warmth he brought you. Sitting down on his bed, you brought your legs up and he sat down next to you.

“So, I did have something to tell you,” his voice trailed off toward the end and you gave him your undivided attention. “God, this is sorta hard to say.” His hands messed with the end of his covers, shuffling something.

“You’re Spider-Man!” You blurted out. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as you smacked your hand over your mouth, not expecting to say it so bluntly. 

“How did you–” 

“Peter, I’m not stupid. You don’t have to recreate the scene where Miley is holding up the Hannah wig to Jesse with your Spider-Man mask,” you gestured your hand to his that was still under the covers. He slowly lifted his hand to reveal the mask from the bed.

“Well, yes I am Spider-Man.” You smiled to yourself, proud that you figured it out by yourself. “But,”

“But?!” You interrupted him. He let out a dry chuckle and shook his head.

“But,” he continued. “That isn’t why I invited you over. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am so insanely happy you figured out this secret and I feel a weight lifted off my chest. You’re my best friend and–”

“Peter.”

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” He sheepishly smiled and looked at you. How your hair fell perfectly over your shoulder as you ran your hands through it, an anxious tic Peter found you do often. 

“I wanted to tell you that…” he spoke slowly as you hung onto every word that came out of his mouth, your heart about to explode from your chest. “I am in love with you.”

The room was silent. You could hear a pin drop. You stared at Peter in disbelief, your brain running a thousand miles an hour. 

“Y/n, please say something,” his voice was low, barely coming out as a whisper. 

“I…” you started, “I’m in love with you too.” His face broke out into the biggest smile you have ever seen and you mimicked him.

“Really?” 

“I mean, you said it yourself. Jesse was so in love with Miley that he knew he was Hannah before she even told him,” you smirked as Peter rolled his eyes. 

“Only you would bring up Hannah Montana in the middle of a moment like this,” his hand cupped the side of your face and you smiled sheepishly. 

“Only with you,” you closed the gap between the two of you. When you kissed, it truly was like fireworks were going off behind you. You smiled into the kiss, but the fireworks seemed to be getting louder– wait what?! “Do you hear that?” You pulled away from Peter, his eyes half closed. 

“Mm, no,” he leaned in again to kiss you, but you pushed him away. 

“Peter, my dad is blasting someone a few blocks away.” You saw out his window and he immediately jumped up. 

“I’m so sorry to leave right now but–”

“Go get ‘em, Spidey.” You winked at him and he smiled. He put on his mask and took off his hoodie to reveal the suit.

“Will you be here when I get back?” He asked, his eyes pleading for an answer. 

“Is Hannah Montana one of the best Disney Channel shows?” Peter rolled his eyes. 

“On second thought, you can go home,” he was about to climb out the window before you pulled him back. 

“Yes, I will be here. You,” you poked his chest, “be safe.” You lifted his mask and kissed him one more time and Peter melted into the kiss. 

“I could get used to this,” he mumbled against your lips, but you pulled away making him frown. 

“Peter.” You said sternly. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” “Go help my dad, idiot."

“On it!” And with that, Peter swung away. This really was the life and he just had to hold on tight. 

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2

phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.

monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?

uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..

oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.

ummm..

you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.

this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?

this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.

PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"

"does she sound hot?"

"well yeah, but—"

hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.

HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!

the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.

sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"

tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?

hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.

it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.

.......

.......

soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?

ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.

i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?

what thing? the hotline?

yeah..

well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.

okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?

yeah, if you want to.

sick.

ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.

so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?

you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.

specify what you mean by 'like'?

i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?

ehh...i guess.

c'mon. you can be honest with me.

well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.

oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?

uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.

what the fuck. seriously?

mhm, it's true.

shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.

well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.

holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?

19.

that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.

how 'bout you? how old are you?

21.

not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.

yeah? how?

considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.

ellie laughs.

how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?

you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.

well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?

i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.

is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?

uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—

all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.

so, how 'bout you sugar?

...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.

the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.

what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.

oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.

you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?

it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.

wednesday, 11:45am

sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.

you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.

"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.

"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.

handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.

slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"

leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.

saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)

thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.

no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.

sure will, babygirl.

the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.

sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.

you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.

but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.

fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.

the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.

luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.

ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.

the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.

saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?

hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.

you let out a soft laugh.

why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?

'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.

nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.

ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?

you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.

uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?

i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.

business? what business?

ah— well—

ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.

if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?

you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.

you can hear her laugh from the other end.

well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.

ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?

yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.

maybe you'll be my only customer.

i wouldn't complain.

speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?

trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.

what nicknames do your clients usually pick?

uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.

something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.

you could just put me down as ellie.

got it.

what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?

well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.

okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?

no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.

ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.

but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.

yeah? let's see about that.

saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??

you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.

no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.

you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.

as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.

so, how long were you and your ex together?

uhhhh, about 2 years.

ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?

ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.

why? who's asking?

well, i was just— uhh—

i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.

okay, okay. good to know.

how 'bout you?

nope. i'm single too.

seriously?? how?

i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.

i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—

can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.

ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.

hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.

oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.

maybe they're closer to you than you think.

your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.

i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.

oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

hey.

hey. where's your usual greeting?

you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.

ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.

good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?

just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?

smoking, just finished some homework.

what class was it for?

uhhh, just this calculus class.

you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.

....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.

yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.

i'd be a terrible student.

i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.

you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.

what's your quiz on anyways?

energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.

i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.

okay, i can do that.

you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.

alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.

you think so?

i know so. you're such a smart girl.

there she goes again, praising you.

uh, th-thanks.

don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.

a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.

you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.

m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.

of course. always. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)

yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?

mhm, yes mister.

c'mon. beg, sugar.

please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.

ah, hell.

you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.

what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.

i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—

yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.

the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.

but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.

wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.

monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-

woah, woah, woah are you crying?

e-ellie?

yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.

today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—

you sniffle.

— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.

i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.

i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.

ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.

do you trust me?

....y-yea, of c-course. why?

i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?

okay.

first of all, where are you?

i-in my room, sitting at my desk.

okay. go lay down on your bed.

with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.

okay, i'm on my bed.

good. what are you wearing?

foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.

ellie, you really don't have to-

hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.

biting your lip, you fold.

i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.

that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?

okay.

good girl. now, what are you wearing?

uh.. a tank top and shorts.

cute. take them off.

gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.

done?

mhm.

good. so obedient.

i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.

rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.

how does it feel?

feels good.

bet it does.

ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.

now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.

as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.

doesn't it feel nice, baby?

mhm.

wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.

you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.

alright, take your panties off. slowly.

you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.

okay, they're off.

such a good girl, following my every command.

you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.

slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.

hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.

god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.

i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.

i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.

your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.

slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.

spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.

fuuuuuck.

i-

you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.

go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.

the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.

your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.

as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.

how does it feel, baby?

f-feels amazing, ellie.

you let out a low whimper.

i wish you were here.

me too, pup. me too.

you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.

i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.

you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.

rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?

you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.

your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?

mhm, yes, daddy.

good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.

with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.

i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—

you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.

your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.

oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—

arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.

look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.

that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.

god, i made a mess.

oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.

monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.

oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?

ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.

seriously? how?

i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-

wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?

oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.

i— uh— i have to go—

wait! sugar! please. hear me out.

you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.

if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.

.....why?

i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.

you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.

....

i really hope you come.

the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.

tuesday, 2:50pm

ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.

looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.

as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.

there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.

walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.

"hi ellie, it's me."

pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3

[3igbootyl0ver]

A New Face Pt.2

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: Tara was devastated you didn't text her. That was until you met her at a party.

word count: 2250

Pt.1

a/n: hey guys, first of all thank you all so much for the overwhelming support 🥹 I didn't expect this much attention at all especially for my first ever pic I've written. Anyways, I'm always open to feedback and requests if you have any. Take note I'm still getting used to this whole Tumblr thing so it may take a while for me to put up master lists and all that stuff (p.s sorry if there's any mistakes, a part of me feels like this lowkey sucks lolz)

It’s been 2 weeks since Tara had last seen you. And during those weeks, Tara’s mind had been fogged by you. Her mind kept repeating your interaction and every time a smile grew on her face. The group of friends had been making fun of her ever since they entered the lift after leaving yours and Chad’s apartment, saying she looked like a kid getting a lollipop for breakfast, all giggly and in a daze, but she didn’t care. 

She wanted to see you again badly. She started plotting and thinking about ways your paths can collide again. Like, she could plan walking in school and “coincidentally” cross paths even though her classroom was nowhere near yours and at least 10 minutes away from your building. But she wouldn’t do that! “I’m not that crazy” Tara thought. But would she? (A teeny tiny part of Tara knows she’s capable of doing so.)

She didn’t have the guts to text you and it’s already been two weeks! A part of her was hoping that you’d text her, but a pang of disappointment hit her when you didn’t. She usually isn’t this hung up on a person like this. Sure, she found some individuals cute from time to time, but she wouldn’t go up to this extend. She wouldn’t chase for someone, but for you, maybe, just a little bit, she would start jogging a little. There was something so.. alluring and appealing about you that Tara couldn’t comprehend. It’s like her mind glitched and was programmed to think about you 24/7.

 Tara was currently lying on her bed occupied by her mind (thinking of you obviously) when there was aggressive knocks on the front door.  “Give me a minute! Jesus..” murmured Tara as she walked towards the threshold. She opened the door which revealed Mindy looking impatient. 

“Dude, are you not dressed yet? We planned to go this party at least a week ago!” 

“Oh shit, I forgot about this Mindy I’m sorry! Give me 15 minutes to get ready” Tara replied apologetically while Mindy rolled her eyes and plopped herself down on the couch, kicking up her feet onto the coffee table and reached for the tv remote. After an excruciatingly long 15 minutes (it was actually 45 minutes), Tara and Mindy were set to leave and make their way to the party that was a few blocks away.

The house reeked of alcohol, weed, and cigarettes. The party-goers were dressed casually, with some wearing revealing and tight clothes to attract attention, no doubt trying to get laid. There was r&b and occasionally hip hop music blaring through the speakers. Mindy met up with Anika, dragging her to get a drink to get the night started which made Tara lose track of them, leaving her all alone. Tara’s stomach churned when she kept seeing couples making out in the hallway as she strolled to the kitchen to get a drink. (She kept this like a dirty secret, but she had imagined as if it was you and her making out)

“Hey Tara!” She turned around and saw Chad, with a random girl with his arm around her waist. 

“Chad? I didn’t know you were coming to this party” Tara explained, ignoring the dirty looks and stink eye given from the girl

“Yeah, I didn’t want to actually, but Y/N asked me out to this party and….” Whatever gibberish Chad spewed out was ignored as you occupied Tara’s mind. You were here? Y/N? Chad’s sexy and hot and super cute roommate? She’s doomed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?! Oh god! Oh my god, Do I look good? Do I have anything between my teeth, I knew I should have put on a sexier outfit”

“Tara- Tara calm down. You look good, okay? Don’t worry about it. If it makes you feel any better, they called you cute after you guys left the other day.” Chad commented, putting a stop onto Tara’s word vomit. You called her cute? Tara felt butterflies in her stomach. But why didn’t you text her? All Tara could hope for is that the universe is on her side tonight and let her catch a glimpse of you, and preferably not drunk to make a fool of herself and to earn atleast a decent conversation. 

She chugged down the alcoholic drink she made and decided to make one in an instant, trying to get rid of her blush since just thinking of you made her stomach do somersaults. She sat down on the couch, hoping she could see you soon. After almost half an hour, her patience was wearing thin, she hadn’t seen you yet. How even big is this house? Why couldn’t she see you? It was as if this house was alive and kept shifting its walls purposely to block her view of you. She made her way to the kitchen to make a stronger drink. Mindy was probably making out with Anika in a random room anyways so she doesn’t really bother, which left Tara looking like a real loser all alone weeping in the kitchen. 

She chugged down another shot of her drink, before making a new one. As she lifted her head to swallow her drink in one go, she felt a presence behind her. She smelt a scent of a wood, earthy with a reminiscent of smoke notes, along with a subtle smell of sweat. 

“Hey stranger. What’re you doing here all alone?” Tara choked on her drink when she heard your voice. Damn it, even your voice is hot. How does that even work? Tara had a coughing fit, while trying to cover up her blush and not make a fool out of herself (she already did). You made it even worse by wincing slightly and putting your hand on her lower back, rubbing it up and down her back and trying to at least comfort her while she was having a crisis.

“You alright there? Let me get some water for you,” You softly chuckled before proceeding to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water, opening the cap and passing it to Tara which gobbled it down. It took her a few moments to settle down and for her blush to subside.

“Thank you, really. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, I can’t debate with you about horror movies if you’re dead, right?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. Anyway, I didn’t know you were coming to this party. I assumed you were too cool and busy for this type of stuff.” Tara  teased. She took this time to take in the sight of you, you were wearing baggy jeans with a fitting t-shirt, revealing your tattoos. There goes the butterflies in her tummy again.

“I didn’t call in a shift today and I had nothing to do. Plus, it was an impromptu thing to come here since, well, I had a feeling you were going to be here and..I wanted to see you.” You softly chuckled, with your voice lowering at the end. Now it was your turn to start blushing, and Tara found it adorable.

“Well, I’m right here in front of you, cutie. What did you want to talk about?” Tara boldly added in the nickname, in hopes of seeing you blush again. You smiled at the term which revealed those dimples AND your blush. Tara gave her a pat on the back for the double victory. You opened your mouth to give a sly reply back, however your response was cut off by someone calling out for you.

“Y/N!! You in to play some beer pong?” You looked at Tara apologetically for the disruption and invited her to play along with you as a pair.

You both were up against another pair, which was obviously experienced beer pong players at that. You were willing to drink the cups that your opponent successfully had thrown the ball in, but Tara insisted on drinking it while you focus on throwing the ball. Understandably, both of you lost and while you thanked them for the round and lost gracefully, Tara stomped off like a little kid while mumbling swear words to herself, evidently affected by the amount of alcohol she had to drink. You chased for her and found her in the kitchen, mixing different liquids to create an abomination of a drink.

“Tara, you had enough for tonight don’t you think? Let me walk you home.” You suggested while taking her cup away as she was right about to sip it, making her whine. Tara turned around and looked at you as if you had said the most ridiculous sentence she had heard in her lifetime.

“NO!!! Please, let’s just stay a lit-little longer. I p-promise I’ll behave. I just want to spend time with you.” Tara begged and slurring her words, while learning against you for your warmth, and looking up at you with those undeniably adorable doe eyes, giving you the best puppy look she could express.

“We can talk on our way to your apartment, okay? I promise I won’t leave you alone” Tara huffed and rolled her eyes, but continued leaning against you for support. You only made it to the threshold of the exit holding her beside you until you couldn’t handle it anymore with how Tara kept moving around and losing her balance. You offered to give her a piggyback ride, which she immediately accepted after nodding her head enthusiastically.

“Why didn’t- didn’t you text me? I was waiting..waiting for you all along, man, fuck” Tara slurred, having hiccups in between her sentences.

“I’m sorry Tara, would you feel better if I said I was too nervous to text you?” You replied smugly, which made her wrap her arms around your neck a little tighter. You could feel a sudden warmth on the side of your neck, indicating that Tara was blushing. “Cute” You thought.

“Whatever..Whatever, dude. I just wanted to ask what horror movie you preferred,” Tara tried to shrug off and tried to act nonchalant as if your silence for the past 2 weeks didn’t bother her.

“I loved watching Terrifier 2. Art the clown really is a masterpiece,” You softly commented. You’ve reached the entrance of Tara’s apartment and entered the lift, softly asking what level she lives at before the lift door closes. You’re surprised you that didn’t feel tired of carrying her at all. Even after walking atleast 2 miles from the party. Most of the time carrying her home was in silence, since Tara was falling in and out of sleep.

“Me too!! I-lloved watching him kill random people” You walked her towards  her door, slowly getting her on her feet and stabilizing her when she was swaying around clumsily.

“Oh yeah? Well, I heard the new Terrifier 3 is coming out. Maybe we could watch it together during the premier? Like, a date?” You suggested, blush slowly creeping up from your neck to your cheeks. You knocked on the door, hoping Sam was awake to bring her in.

“Yes.” Tara simply replied while nodding insistently. You chuckled at her boldness.

“It’s a date then. We’ll talk about it when you’re sober and having a massive hangover tomorrow, okay?” Tara nodded her head, her arms snaking around your neck to pull you closer. Your hands landed at her waist, feeling her being overly warm, probably from drinking too much. You decided to lean in and give her a kiss on her cheek, holding it for a little longer just to tease the shorter girl.

When you pulled back, you could see her blushing, probably not expecting the kiss. However, she decided to lean in this time, and now aiming for your lips. Just as both your lips brushed each other, the door opened, revealing Sam looking upset with wide eyes. You both pull back, with you coughing awkwardly under Sam’s gaze. Tara entered her apartment after saying her goodbyes, leaving you and Sam. You tried to talk to her, but ended up backfiring after she rolled her eyes and slammed the door on you even before you could utter a syllable. You made your way home and tried to ignore the interaction with Sam by occupying your mind with the younger Carpenter. You know talking to Tara won’t be easy due to her overprotective sister and friends, but you’re always up for a challenge, especially for a girl you’re falling in love with.

On the other side of the door, Sam was relentlessly scolding Tara, since she didn’t inform her of the party she was going to attend and that she had been worried sick the whole day. The least she expected was Mindy or Chad sending her home. Not you. Tara ignored Sam and went in her room, and plopped down on her bed with a huff, and fell asleep not even 5 minutes in.

The next day, Tara woke up with the most excruciating throbbing headache, it got worse when Sam continued her nagging about her going to parties without informing her. It took her awhile to adjust herself, with eating breakfast and taking a hot shower. She realized her phone had died since yesterday and decided  to charge it. When it turned on, the first notification she saw was from you.

Y/N: Heyy, hope you’re feeling better.

Sent at 11.33am.

Y/N: And I’m also hoping you didn’t forget the date we planned. Looking forward to seeing you soon :)

Sent at 11.36am.

[theprongspotter]

Bag - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 19 - 1,009 words

Regulus stands near the entrance of the student union, staring down at his phone as his thumbs dances across the screen with rapid precision. Barty has been blowing up his phone for the past five minutes with increasingly ridiculous messages, ranging from “r u dead or smth??” to “im dying of boredom in this hellhole.”

“Get a grip,” Regulus mutters under his breath as another notification from Barty pinged onto the screen. He responds quickly, reassuring his impatient friend that he’d be there soon, though Barty’s dramatics were beginning to grate on his nerves. He can practically picture Barty slouched over a table in the library, drumming his fingers in exaggerated impatience while Evan probably sat quietly, ignoring his antics.

Just as he finishes typing, a voice rings out sharply through the busy hallway: “Look out!”

Regulus barely has time to lift his head before a figure comes barreling toward him like a freight train. His eyes widen, and for a split second, everything seems to slow down. But there is no stopping the inevitable. The next moment, the person’s solid frame collides with his, and the impact sends Regulus sprawling backward onto the cool tiles. His phone slips from his fingers, clattering onto the floor beside him.

A sharp ache radiates through his lower back and elbows from the fall, and Regulus grimaces, his palms pressing against the ground for support as he momentarily lays there, dazed. There is a murmur of concerned voices around him, the hallway bustling with students between classes, but Regulus ignores them as he mentally assessed the damage. It isn’t until he gathers himself to stand with his phone in his hand that he notices something was missing.

His tote bag.

The realization hits him like a second wave of panic. His black tote bag, the one that carries his laptop, books, and—most importantly—his latest assignment, is no longer slung over his shoulder. Regulus’ gaze darts around frantically as he scans the ground around him. A wave of frustration surges in his chest. Of course, he thinks bitterly. Just my luck.

As if this day can’t get any worse, a figure steps into his line of sight, holding the missing tote bag in one hand. Regulus’ eyes flickers up, ready to snarl, but the words catch in his throat. Standing there, with an awkward, sheepish smile, is none other than James Potter, the university’s star rugby player and, unfortunately for Regulus, his brother Sirius’ obnoxiously loud best friend. His presence is both a blessing and a curse—at least he has retrieved the bag, but now Regulus had to deal with him.

James’ smile is lopsided, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Sorry about that,” he says, his voice warm and slightly breathless. “I—well, we—” He gestures over his shoulder, and Regulus notices the group of people standing a few feet away: Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius himself, all of them looking somewhat amused by the situation. Sirius has his arms crossed, a grin playing at his lips as if this were all part of some grand joke.

Regulus scowls, his irritation flaring up again as he snatches his bag from James’ hand. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters tersely, his sharp gaze darting away from James and back toward his bag as he checks for damage.

James, however, doesn’t seem put off by the attitude. If anything, his grin widens, his hazel eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “I’m James, by the way,” he says, as if Regulus hasn’t just dismissed him.

“I know who you are,” Regulus snaps, slinging his bag back over his shoulder. He adjusts the strap with a little more force than necessary and begins walking toward the library, trying to put as much distance between himself and Potter as possible.

But James isn’t easily deterred. He falls into step beside Regulus effortlessly, his grin now teasing. “Oh, so you’ve heard of me?”

Regulus shoots him an irritated glance. “The whole school knows who you are,” he retorts, wishing Potter would take the hint and leave him alone.

James raises his eyebrows, his smirk growing more playful. “Yeah, but this is different.”

Regulus stops mid-step, turning to face James with a raised brow. “How?”

James takes a step closer, his voice dropping slightly as he answers, “Because you’re you.”

Regulus blinks, completely thrown by the response. His brain scrambles to process the sudden shift in tone, but the confusion only deepens his frustration. “Yeah, that makes no fucking sense,” he finally says, shaking his head as he turns on his heel and resumes his walk to the library.

James laughs lightly, easily falling back into step beside him. “Where are you headed?” he asks, his tone friendly, like they are just two mates chatting after class.

“Away from you,” Regulus mutters, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

“Aw, now why would you say that, love?” James’ tone is lighthearted, but the endearment makes Regulus’ stomach flip involuntarily. He clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to snap back.

Before he can respond, Sirius’ voice rings out from behind them. “Oi, Prongs! Stop flirting with my brother and get back here!”

Regulus and James both turn to see Sirius standing with his hands cupped around his mouth, Remus and Peter standing nearby with amused expressions. James chuckles, giving a playful salute in response. “Right, right. I’m coming.”

He looks back at Regulus, his grin still annoyingly charming. “See you around, Reg,” he said, his voice low and warm, and before Regulus can come up with a retort, James winks at him and jogs back to his group of friends.

Regulus stands frozen for a moment, his heart thudding annoyingly in his chest. His cheeks flushes, much to his dismay, and he scowls at the floor as he hurries the rest of the way to the library. No matter how hard he tries, though, he can’t shake the lingering warmth from James’ attention—or the fluttering in his stomach that just won’t go away.

[gotham--fc]

Hotheaded - A Jessie Fleming Imagine

Request: Jessie and R play on the same team and someone gets angry at R and gets in her face and Jessie steps in to stop it

Y/N knows she’s the hothead in her relationship. Jessie is just always so calm and collected, and even when she’s not, she usually vents her frustrations to the ref or her own teammates. Y/N takes her frustrations out on the other team. It leads to confrontations on the field, warnings from the ref and her fair share of cards. If someone is going to push her buttons, she’s going to make them regret it.

It’s a chippy game. Both teams are tired, both in playoff pushes, and both feel the need to take all three points from this match. Games like these always end in a plethora of bruises and feeling incredibly sore the next day, but it’s also games like these that get Y/N fired up.

“You’re not good enough to stop me so you gotta foul me instead, huh?” Y/N says after the other team’s defender trips her again.

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on me you could finally hit a shot on target,” The other player smirks at her and Y/N huffs in frustration.

Y/N leaves the defender where she is and goes to set up for the set piece. The game is deadlocked and Y/N will be damned if the other team scores first.

The kick comes to nothing, and Y/N claps her hands together. Next chance, next chance she’ll score it.

A few minutes later, Y/N streaks down the wing calling for the ball and easily dekes around her defender and dribbles the ball towards the net. She cuts to the middle and she can feel it, this is the chance, there’s only the goalie in her way, and she knows she can beat her, she knows she’ll score, she – she falls face first on the ground. She spits grass out of her mouth and looks up at the defender who pushed her.

“Ref that’s a red!” Y/N yells. The defender scoffs.

“I barely touched you, you dove.”

Y/N ignores her.

“Ref! Are you gonna card her or what?”

The ref runs over and gives the defender a warning, that’s it, a warning and nothing more. Y/N is furious. She’s off her feet trying to plead her case to the ref, but the ref won’t hear it. Y/N stares at the ref in helpless frustration as the ref ignores her.

“Leave it Y/N,” Jessie tugs Y/N’s arm, “Get ready for the free kick.”

Jessie goes to the get the ball, placing it where the ref indicates. Y/N goes to where she’s supposed to stand. The defender jogs past her and looks over her shoulder as she does.

“Yeah, go listen to your little girlfriend. Do you always let her boss you around or are you more than just talk?”

“Why don’t you say that to my fucking face?!” Y/N yells, “Fucking coward, you’ve had enough to say to my back this whole game!”

The defender whips back around, charging forward and getting in Y/N’s face. Y/N doesn’t back down, getting up in hers right back. They’re yelling insults at each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. The defender lightly pushes Y/N back so Y/N slaps her hands away and gives her a push, a harder one. It only dissolves from there, both of them shouting and pushing and their teammates trying to pull them apart, the ref blowing the whistle.

“Stop!” Jessie’s voice shouts above the rest. “You’ll get a red if you keep acting like this! We need you in this game Y/N! She’s not worth it!”

Finally the pair are separated enough. Y/N is still glaring at her, daring at her to say something else so they can start up again. Jessie grabs the sides of Y/N’s face and turns her away.

“Stop it, we need you in this game,” Jessie repeats, “Do you want to win this game?”

“Of course I want to win! I also want to punch her in her stupid–”

“Do you want to win or do you want a red and a suspension for fighting?” Jessie asks, “She’s not worth it, let it go.”

Y/N sighs. She’s not ashamed to admit it, she’s whipped. Everyone knows there’s only one person who can calm her down when she gets like this and it’s Jessie. Y/N would do anything Jessie says, even if it cost her personal pride and street cred. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, especially the idiots on the other team. All that matters is what Jessie thinks of her, that Jessie knows Y/N would do anything for her.

Jessie scores the free kick and Y/N is the first one to her, lifting her up in the air as their teammates swarm them. As they jog back to half, Y/N makes eye contact with the defender. She smirks.

“It’ll be a long bus ride home to think about the loss, huh?”

Y/N shrugs when Jessie gives her a look. She’ll do anything for Jessie, but she can’t change who she is.

[yeeterthek33per]

Two's Company, Three's A Crowd, Four And Five Say Let Chaos Reign (Katrina Gorry x Reader)

A/n Requested. Part three to Missing Toddlers and Mayhem :) Will Edit later, cause I'm at work atm y'all.

(Y'all this took me so long freaking long to write like 😭)

Content/Warning(s): mildly suggestive, warning you now, it does get a little itty bit spicy. Harper, Kyra, R, and Chacha ganging up on Katrina.

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"So do I get to know where we're going or are we doing a surprise again, because the last time we did this, I got my butt kicked on a public beach."

Katrina🔥❤️

"If I recall correctly, that was your fault, Miss L/n."

Katrina🔥❤️

"Also, no 😘"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"I don't recall going into this knowing you were a professional slide tackler😫"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Could have left the gear in the boot and never mentioned it. You should know us footballers are legally obligated to accept rondo challenges 😜"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"☹️"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Turn that frown upside down, Babe😊"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"🙃"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Smartass🙄"

Katrina🔥❤️

"But close enough."

Katrina🔥❤️

"Just be ready by 12, I'll be there soon😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Of course, see you soon, Gorgeous😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Wait"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"What do I wear??"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Hike meets cozy casual😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Got it, thanks, Cutie😘"

You'd been talking non stop in the days between the last time you'd seen each other in person.

Over the phone, via text, even a facetime at some point, where Harper managed to sneak in and say a very happy hello to you.

The little girl manages to bring a massive smile to your face every time Katrina talks about her.

There was always a smile on your face lately, or so your sister had pointed out just yesterday.

"I swear that woman's got you glued to your phone, dorky little smile and everything."

"Leave me alone, Ash." You whine.

A soft rap on your door lifts your head from your current position of smiling over your phone.

You really need to stop proving her point.

Ashley opens the door, a small smirk already on her face making you roll your eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"It's date time soon, why are you not ready?"

"How would you know what-"

"You told me yesterday, all dreamy eyed. Geez, she got you hypnotised too now?"

You huff.

"Whatever, why are you in here?"

"Because you're being awfully quiet about this Kat and I'm worried, because you haven't said a word about who she is or what she does."

"I haven't been murdered, I'm fine, you can stop grilling, nor are you grilling her when she gets here."

"I have to do my sisterly duties, now hurry up and get ready or else I'll have longer with her because you're running late for your date."

Glancing at the clock on your wall, she's right, it's about forty or so minutes before Katrina is due.

Standing up, you shoo the woman out of your room and quickly jump into the shower, grabbing out a pair of hiking pants, a simple short sleeve shirt and a light blue denim jacket.

By the time you're out of the shower dressed and touching up your hair, there's a knock at the door downstairs.

You fire down them, shoving your sister, who's racing you to the door, away.

As smoothly as you can, you open the door with a warm smile.

Katrina's warm smile greets your own.

She's beautiful as ever and you tell her as such, the long sleeve jacket almost matching your own except she's in shorts and sneakers and a light pink button up underneath it.

"Hey, Beautiful."

You step out the door to greet the shorter woman, arms wrapping around her, her leaning up into you, hands settling on your shoulder blades.

"Hi, Cutie."

You pout softly as she goes to pull away, and then she chuckles meeting your demands with her own lips.

Humming softly in appreciation, you squeeze her waist.

"You ready?"

Nodding, you go to shut the door behind you, keys, phone, wallet and water bottle already with you.

Of course, Ashley decides now is the perfect time to pop out, only, she pauses, surprise on her expression.

"Well... I was going to do the whole sisterly, bring her back by ten talk but... I don't need to. You two have fun!"

And with that, she slams the door behind you, giving you a loving tap to the butt.

Katrina looks confused, matching your own bewilderment at your sisters actions.

"I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea what that was."

You cough into your palm, covering a half laugh.

"Anyway, continuing on. Are we good to go?"

She nods, grabbing you by the hand, leading you to the car parked in your driveway.

Clipping in, she reverses out and starts driving off in the direction of the northern exit from the outer city, a drive you know well enough, having gone this way quite a few times.

She leans over and hands you a black cable, winking at you from her spot in the driver's seat.

"Passenger princess duties are all yours."

The cheeky grin makes you roll yours playfully with a small huff.

"Sure, babe."

Switching to some music you'd both listened to that Saturday night, your hand settles in hers across the console as you hit the highway.

"So, do I get to know, yet?"

"Nope."

It's short, the little smile on her lips doing little to mask the amusement in her tone, her brow quirking a little at the pout on your face.

"Patience."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Making a joking salute, you start to hum along to the radio, thumb caressing across the back of her hand.

She huffs, shaking her head but gives your hand a squeeze anyway.

The drive isn't overly long, no longer than any of the trips you've taken, about forty-five minutes on the road.

You feel like you almost recognise the roads she's taking but a right turn far before anything else comes up on the forested roads throws you a curveball.

Normally you'd been one of the more observant travellers on these roads, however, it seems you'd never paid the tiny dirt road any mind before now.

The greenery, denser than when you'd entered the little driveway, started to part into a small dirt and gravel alcove, to which Katrina pulls in, parking in front a small wooden bollard that lines the alcove.

There's dense green directly in front of you that splits into a small dirt and gravel path which disappears off to the right in a slow curve.

Reaching across the console, she taps your leg with a small grin.

"Hope you brought your hiking legs."

Scoffing, you nudge the woman and basically bounce out of the car in the face of her challenge.

"Damn right I did."

It starts off fairly easy, a basic hiking path for anyone, not much change in altitude but then it starts to increase, and you find yourself falling into the familiar rhythm that you love when it comes to hiking.

If you'd said that to your teenage self, she would've cried at the mention of cardio.

Katrina, it seems, falls into the same familiar feeling, the mild sweat from the hike mixing but also the complete relaxation in her stance as she moves beside you, ahead of you in smaller sections of the path and behind you as you move ahead to crest the more difficult bits first as a precautionary.

It's the first time you really fall into an understanding that someone else gets.

There's a peacefulness to the area surrounding you, bird chimes and occasional cicada chirps as you pass by certain bushes and grass patches.

You think you even spot a small rabbit hopping off the path ahead of you.

Finally, the incline slopes downward again, and then leads down and off to the left, the faint smell of moss and running water becoming more apparent to breathe in, it's refreshing.

"God, I've missed this."

She sounds rightly out of breath as she steps onto a particularly tall rock lodged into the path.

"You've been missing out, then?"

"Far too much, between how cold it got in Sweden and just not really going too far from the city, it's been a good while since I've even gotten to take Harper on smaller hikes."

"Damn, life of an athlete, much?"

A small joking lilt.

"Ha ha."

You can practically see her eye roll from where you're walking in front of the woman.

"It's not that bad, just keeps our lives hectic if anything."

You hum.

"How's Harper feel about that?"

You miss the way her lips curl up at the mention of the mini-mini.

"She loves it if anything, sleepovers with Nonna three times a week and when the international break pops up, she gets to stay with the team and see all twenty-two of her aunties and siblings."

The closer you get to the running water, the less the trees hang over the both of you and the more the suns starts to bead down on your light blue shirt, the warmth very familiar as winter shifts into spring once again.

It's been about an hour or so since you'd started off on the track.

She moves in front of you, turning with a small nod and grin in the direction of the beginning of a large clearing.

"C'mon, we're getting close."

The sun shines through the light brunette hair around the tops and sides of her head that most likely refused to be tied down properly, but in a neat, casual setting.

Slowing to a stop near where she's starting to descend a slightly steeper part of the path, you look out into the opening, a large water not far off to your one o'clock, the green moss abundant around its edges and the dampened ground surrounding the flowing water and the small pool built up around its base.

The pool breaks off into a surpisingly sandy bay that opens into a much larger river, flowing from another path away from you and out into what you see is the beach.

You nearly miss the small misstep as she steps on a mossed up stone, grabbing her arm to stop her falling, alarm on your face.

"Thanks."

"I gotcha."

You nod softly, hand squeezing her bicep, continuing jokingly.

"No hurting yourself, as much as I'd love to carry you back.."

She smacks you a little with a laugh before continuing down a different stone to avoid the same outcome.

"Real funny, Babe."

It's one massive secluded beach and it reminds you heavily of your first tryst together.

Only this time, it's much more private and less accessible, something you can almost appreciate with the nature of it all.

Privacy.

Another understanding between you.

As a public figure and known football player, Katrina knows the feeling well.

It doesn't come often, with media days a regular occurrence and spending near all of her time with teammates, club and country as well as with a two-year-old toddler at all hours of the day.

Of course, she wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

But privacy is a luxury that not even well paid athletes can afford.

So she understands the immediate droop and sigh of contentment when you see the vast empty beach and nothing but the sound of crashing waves and bird song behind you.

Letting your head fall back as you take in the cool summer breeze from the coastline, the smell of sea salt and damp greenery filling your senses, your head turns to look at the shorter woman.

She's already watching you, a small challenging smirk on her face that brings you back to the present.

"...What's up?"

"Nothing, I figured a nice walk and then a rematch would be a great way to start our day together."

"Rematch?... Wait-"

You're cut off as she suddenly pops out a soccer ball from behind her that she'd apparently managed to hide in her backpack the whole way, and tosses it towards you, darting off towards the beach.

"C'mon, I wanna see if you've learned anything yet!"

Jogging after her, you yell out.

"You mean that I'm not the professional footballer in this scenario and that I'm going to get my butt kicked again?"

"I'll make a baller out of you, yet, now get out here!"

It goes on like that for a while, how long exactly, you aren't sure but by the time you both land breathless onto the sand, mainly you, the sun is leaning more towards the other side of the sky.

"I hope you brought snacks, because I'm gonna need them after that last one."

Katrina giggles down at your dead flat form on the ground, chest heaving.

“You can’t give up on me now, to think you were just getting close to beating me.”

The teasing lilt to her voice makes you swat at her ankle lightly.

“Close, my ass. It’s like twenty-six to three.”

“Actually it’s about nineteen to six.”

She kicks you in the foot, tossing up a little sand in the air towards you in the process, landing near your face.

“Hey!”

“Whoops?”

Darting up, surprising yourself you tackle the woman into the soft white sand, landing on top of her.

“That is so not allowed, that was a dirty play ref!”

You call out to the imaginary sideline ref pointing off into the distance with a fake angry face on.

She’s laughing underneath you, almost breathless because of your weight on her stomach, and her hands settle to grip your hips, as you look back down at the woman with a small pout.

“Aw poor baby.”

It’s a little mocking tone that you pout more at.

Poking her tongue out up at you, she sits up slightly to tug you back down towards her, your hands landing either side of her head and you shift to be more level with the woman’s head.

“Hi.”

Grinning once again, you brush your nose against hers.

“Hi.”

A small peck to her lips is all she needs to tug you further down, fully sealing yourselves together, lips locked.

The breeze blows over your back, and the sounds of the waves wash away as you sink fully into the shorter woman, lips sliding across hers.

A new but familiar sensation, becoming accustomed to having the air in your lungs sucked from you every time you kiss her.

Sighing softly into her mouth, you take the opportunity to let your hand wander over the crook of her neck, before shifting to rest over her collar and then over her neck again.

It’s not intentional when you do it, but your thumb almost caresses the column of her throat and it’s her turn to sigh into the kiss.

Pulling away for a small breath, she notes the way your fingers now rest just under her jaw, on her neck, sending shivers through her.

If you noticed it, you don’t say anything, instead diving right back into her, fingers squeezing the skin slightly.

It seems you notice the way she hums into the kiss, a small smirk crossing your face as you let up once more.

The effect you have on her is shown well and truly in the way her cheeks redden and the part in her lips as her eyes open to meet yours.

“Hi.”

A warmth spreads through you at the smile she gives you once more.

“C’mon.”

Nudging you up once more, she pulls herself up, offering you a hand up.

Taking it, you stand close to her still, hands settling on her waist.

“So, what’s next then?”

Her hands grab yours and drag you over to where the bag lies in the sand.

“A little walk and wander and maybe a little bit more of that before dinner, hey?”

Grinning, you tug her towards the bag.

It’s just minutes back on the path that you tug her back into you for more.

You’d say you were someone who had quite the ability for self restraint, especially in previous relationships, but with Katrina, she’s just there, and it makes you want to kiss the daylights out of her every second you’re together.

Inevitably, it takes you both longer on the way back to the car, stopping every ten minutes to admire the scenery in a way only a couple making out against every tree can.

By the fifth time she’s resigned to let you do it every five minutes, more than happily letting the privacy you two have, consume you for the moment.

The way she tugs your neck down herself after an hour of this makes you well aware of the fact she feels the same.

Addicted to the way you taste.

Addicted to the way your lips slide so perfectly on her own.

By the time you get back to the car, you both look more than kiss-mussed, swollen lips, occasional purple marks over your neck when her teeth nipped at the skin.

Like love-sick teenagers.

But not that.

Not yet.

Pressed against the driver-side door, she looks up at you with a look you can’t describe other than pure and utter infatuation.

It makes your heart flip and twist like never before, the fact that someone can look at you like that.

It’s invigorating.

The brunette eventually lets go of you, and you pull back to let her off the car with a very content smile on your lips.

Opening the door for her, you gesture her into the car.

“Shall we go?”

A breathless nod and she’s in the car feeling as giddy as anything.

‘Breathe woman.’

She tells herself.

Settling into the passenger seat after packing the bags into the boot, you buckle in and the whole drive spent going to your next outing is one with clasped hands and small kisses pressed to the back of her hand and wrist.

When you pull up to a familiar club, it makes your heart swell a little.

She’d wanted to come back because the overall ambiance of the place was warm and welcoming and it made her feel comfortable in a place she wouldn’t normally spend any time going to.

Clubs have never been her thing but there was something about this one.

Maybe it was the fact you were involved in it. That it was attached to your first date together.

That would make sense.

You’ve been the deepest breath of fresh air she’s had in a long time. Even with the invigoration of her sport, her work, her home, her daughter. You’re new in her life and it makes her heart feel even more full.

The fact you adore every aspect of her life, her home, her family, makes it all that much better.

The fact that you ask to spend more time with her family without prompting when you both sit down for drinks makes her heart leap.

“Can we do the next one with Harper?”

There's a small sheepish smile on your face.

"It's just been a while since we've all had some time spent together and I miss her-"

Katrina cuts you off with a reassuring smile and a hand on yours.

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d ask again, of course we can, she’s been begging to know when she can see her new friend.”

You smile at the thought.

You had missed the little one quite a bit.

Her wide smile and nearly always happy personality brought so much light into your life that day.

When your drinks are sat down in front of you by a knowingly smirking Aiden.

“Whenever you ladies are ready, I’ve got you queued up with a classic.”

Taking a peek at the ipad in his hands, you see the song and roll your eyes.

It’s one you performed all the time for about three months straight because that’s all people would request from you.

Dragging the woman up with your drinks and a wink at the woman who’s just resigned to the fact she now has to sing every time she’s with you here.

There’s an adoration in her eyes as you step up onto the stage, keeping your eyes locked on hers and speak into the mic with a small wink.

“Hey everyone, we’ve got a good old classic today, it seems I’ve been requested of this one with my duet partner. Everyone thank Aiden for us.”

When the instrumental starts, Katrina half huffs at the song choice, half laughs.

Love Shack by The B-52

You start the song off, letting her get comfortable with the song first.

If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says "15 miles to the Love Shack"

Love Shack, yeah, yeah I'm heading down the Atlanta highway Looking for the love getaway

Bouncing to the beat slightly, you encourage her to move with you, gesturing down at the second mic that has been slipped into her grasp.

Headed for the love getaway I got me a car, it's as big as a whale And we're headin' on down to the Love Shack I got me a Chrysler, it seats about 20 So hurry up and bring your jukebox money

You almost have to laugh, she's better at this song than most would expect.

In fact, you'd bet she was better than you.

The love shack is a little old place where We can get together Love Shack, baby (the Love Shack, baby) Love Shack, baby, Love Shack Love Shack, baby, Love Shack Love Shack, baby, Love Shack (love, baby, that's where it's at) Love Shack, baby, Love Shack (love, baby, that's where it's at)

The pair of you yelling the chorus into the mic has a few people in the bar up and singing along as well, a few whistles and cheers as the pair of you keep making eye contact with each other.

Sign says (woo), "Stay away, fools" 'Cause love rules at the Love Shack Well, it's set way back in the middle of a field Just a funky old shack and I gotta get back

There's something about the way she dips and kisses you mid song.

You know you're screwed when she pulls you back up and there's a wink thrown your way as she turns to the crowd and starts hopping along to the beat finally, encouraging them to do the same.

You never thought you'd be up here, jamming along with a woman who's been matching your adventurous nature since you've met her.

Despite being someone who has somehow managed to calm your erratic nature, she's also had the more energetic side of her brought out that she normally only sees amongst the kids of the team.

Glitter on the mattress Glitter on the highway Glitter on the front porch Glitter on the highway

There's a small giggle she let's out as you step up and belt out the next verse.

The Love Shack is a little old place where We can get together Love Shack, baby (Love Shack, baby) Love Shack, that's where it's at Love Shack, that's where it's at

You don't miss the small shake of her head when you poke your tongue out between your teeth cheekily at her.

In fact your eyes stay on her for the majority of the song, every movement, every gesture, every expression, every grin while she sings with you.

The sweetest brightest laughter as you both duck off the stage panting is what seals the deal for you.

Her eyes glint with joy up at you and that's when you know she has you hook line and sinker.

-

"So he had to bail you out?!"

"I know right?"

"Babe that is so not-"

"Waitwaitwait before you judge me on it-"

She snorts and covers her mouth at the small glare you give her across the table, having to silence your own laughter to make it hold even a remote amount of sincerity, though she knows otherwise by the quirk in your lips.

Standing, you gesture to the door, wanting to get away from the loudness of the bar for a few moments.

You continue outside into the slowly cooling afternoon air.

"The dude had it coming, he was being way too touchy with this poor girl and security was not doing anything-"

"So you drop him in a trash can after throwing hot sauce in his eyes?!"

"It was well deserved, she was very grateful to not be harassed by that asshole anymore. Besides, the assault charges were dropped when I offered to show them the club footage of him grabbing where he shouldn't"

"Still, you shouldn't have risked going to jail over that-"

"I'd have broken his nose, too, but I literally just had a manicure done finally after like a year of refusing to go, I didn't feel like being made to go back, again."

An amused shake of her head as you both slowly walk down the path to the carpark.

"You're something else."

"That better be a good thing."

She giggles at the half pearl clutch gesture you make in response paired with an offended look.

"Of course it is, babe."

Giving your hand a squeeze, she can only smile at the grumpy look you give her.

"Hush you."

"Or what?"

"Or I might just do something about it."

"Do it."

A beat of silence, your eyes locked on the cocky smirk on her face.

She's baiting you, you know it.

Of course, you take it.

Two steps back towards her.

Three steps pushing her back into the building wall.

One more to find your place pressed against her.

None to press your lips into hers like they'd never separated in the first place.

The small hum she lets out as you do so makes the idea of the very public display suddenly leave your mind, wanting nothing more than to hear more from her.

It's when you pull away gently with a tug and pop that you both pull back a little breathless.

"That works."

She says, eyes still closed, breathing ragged.

You notice a flash of movement, thinking it was a stranger walking by until a small body crashes into the woman in front of you.

"Mummy!"

"Oh my god, Harper what did I say about running off like that? Especially across roads?! You can't do tha-"

A huffing, clearly scared looking Charlie practically sprints around the corner, bent over at the knees.

Her head snaps up at the realisation of who Harper's managed to run into.

"Oh! Mini, Hi!"

The brunette looks a little unimpressed at the blonde.

You get the distinct feeling it's less from the interruption and more the words of the woman who'd just been sprinting after her daughter.

"Charlotte Grant..."

"Wait. Wait. I didn't- She ran off. I promise I was doing everything to chase her down. It was a little road."

Katrina sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The tiny human being attached to her leg looks up at her with an innocent grin on her face.

"Harper, what did we say about running off?"

Picking up the smaller blonde, sitting her on her hip.

Suddenly very sheepish looking like only a toddler can, she looks in your direction in search of something to avoid the conversation.

Of course, with you being you, she does very quickly.

Practically jumping into your arms with excited squeal, the small child latches onto you out of the older woman's arms.

"Y/n/n!"

Giving her a squeeze, a few giggles leaving your lips at the affection from the little girl you hadn't seen in person since that first day, only catching some time talking to the little one over a phone screen.

"Hi Harper, whatcha doin here, huh?"

"Goin to the park."

"Is that right?"

You smile and wave to Charlie with an amused glint in your eye.

The twenty-two year old nods sheepishly.

Looking down at the little one in your arms, you raise a brow in her direction, too.

She nods enthusiastically, her little arms wound tight around your neck as she lays her head on your shoulder.

Katrina watches the exchange between her daughter and yourself with a hardly hidden heart eyes look.

She'd totally forgotten that the park they usually go to is only a couple blocks from where you both were, but it's on the other side.

Raising her brows in Charlie's direction, a small questioning look on her face.

"I can... explain.."

Another pair of footsteps come running around the corner, too, nearly bumping into the blonde, a mop of now very messy wind blown brunette hair.

"Charlie did you get her- oof!"

Nearly ending up in a tangled mess on the floor, Charlie catches the both of them from falling.

"Idiot."

"Hey! You're the one that- Oh hey, Min', we were just- oh."

The mischievous look on Kyra's face that appears at the sight of you.

"That's what you were busy with today. Or who you were busy with."

She wiggles her brows at the older woman.

"I swear, do I need to start leaving you three with Nonna, again?"

Harper's head whips up so fast, you nearly clash heads and you're surprised she doesn't give herself whiplash.

"Nonna? Can we go see Nonna?"

"Sorry Harps', you can see Nonna tomorrow, it's just Kyra and ChaCha for now, alright?"

The little girl pouts for a minute before settling back into your arms.

"Oky, I stay wiv y/n/n, then."

You chuckle at her, before looking up at Katrina.

"Mind going for a walk to the park?"

She sighs softly, before shrugging.

"Alright, why not?"

You pass the little girl back to Charlie, much to her protests.

"One minute Harps, You can hop up again in a bit, I need to talk to mum first alright?"

She pouts before nodding.

You nod at the two to walk ahead, grabbing Katrina's hand softly.

"We can always continue later? You haven't got anything time sensitive?"

She shakes her head no with a small chuckle.

"Just a walk in restaurant, they're open late, though, it'll be fine."

You quirk a brow at her, and she makes the lip-zipping motion.

"C'mon, we've got a little girl waiting."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you both walk slowly behind the group, though quickly get dragged into carrying Harper for the remainder of the walk, still holding hands with the shorter woman beside you.

The pair of twenty-somethings ahead bickering only serves as a reminder of how chaotic this life is for the Footballer, yet it doesn't bother you.

In fact, it feels like something so much bigger for you, something you could get behind.

You don't want to commit yourself so early, but you don't fight the way your heart swells with a little love each and every word you exchange with both Harper and Katrina.

By the time you're both wandering back to the car, late after Kyra and Charlie have left, taking the little one back home to bed.

Late after having sat and eaten and discussed everything from Harper to thousands of kilometres away worlds of a sport you've never found yourself loving before now.

At least now, it seems you've found your favourite people entwined with it.

It's then you find yourself wanting to learn more.

"Hey, I know this is probably something you hear with your work a lot, but just, talk to me about football, anything you want, the rules, the games, anything."

She looks a little surprised that you bring it up, considering you've never personally been a big sports fan, at least, as much as she's known for the past couple weeks.

"I thought you didn't want to know about it?"

"Actually, I want to learn about it, if I'm gonna be showing up to my sister's matches, and maybe get to see you."

You pause, and the last bit is said with a little sheepishness behind it, though you don't miss the way her smile widens at it.

"I wanna know about the game. Or even just your experiences with it. What do you love about it? Tell me anything."

With that, she starts off on where she started with it, how much she loved it as a kid, how she always spent time playing it with her brothers, her time in the academy, in the beginning with the youth team in Mount Gravatt, to her start with the Melbourne Victory and everywhere after.

How she came to Brisbane Roar, her time in the US.

Her injury, her time spent trying to recover. Of course, she's told you the basics of how Harper came to be.

She talks about some of the bigger games she's played.

About the upcoming World Cup in July.

"You should come see us play."

"You'd want me there?"

"Of course I would."

It's said short and almost in an offended tone, but it shows so much more for you.

She wants you there at the biggest stage of her career.

You don't protest it.

"I'll be there, then."

"Good, I would hate to have to pack you into a suitcase to drag you to camp with us instead."

A laugh escapes your lips at that, head tilted back in laughter.

"Of course you would. You're cute. No but seriously, are you sure? I wouldn't be intruding?"

"Hell no, if eighty thousand other people can be there to watch it, why can't you?"

"Fair enough."

You continue like that, laughing, chatting, letting her rant on and on about everything and anything because you could listen to this woman go on and on for hours with no complaint.

Swinging your joined hands as you both wander along the boardwalk she'd taken you to, you look out on the slowly darkening skies over the water.

The colours are as amazing to witness as always, to the point where you both settle on a bench to relax a bit and watch it darken a bit longer.

The sparkle of the fading sun behind you warms your backs as you both settle into each other, the shorter woman contentedly tucked into your side, words starting to slow and you both quieten to enjoy the moment.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

Turning your head to meet her gaze with the tips of her fingers.

"I like you. A lot."

You grin.

"I would hope so. Or this could be really awkward for- hey!"

She smacks your shoulder with a little roll of her eyes.

"Kidding. I really like you, too."

"Too? I only said like not really."

You guffaw at the woman.

"Hey!"

She giggles.

"Okay, I deserved that."

Grinning, you lean down to meet her lips for the what seems like thousandth time today, though, neither of you mind at all.

It's soft, sweet and much less urgent than all of the ones earlier.

It's easy.

You find it easier and easier with each pass to kiss her.

There's a way she spends the time holding your face, caressing the skin of your cheek, that has you in an absolute whirlwind of just... her.

It's invigorating beyond anything.

Yet also, cathartic.

She tastes like home.

And who knows, maybe this is what you've been missing.

The cathartic parts.

A way to calm an already chaotic life.

Sure, she's a professional footballer, that gets chaotic more than a lot of jobs do but it's the way she handles everything. Somehow able to juggle the life of having a child and playing football across the country and internationally when called to.

But to be honest with yourself, there's nowhere you'd rather be than with this somehow new cemented person in your life.

You can't wait to see where this goes.

-

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING OUT WITH THE KATRINA GORRY!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ashley! Chill!"

-------------------

[frvnkcastles]

LIKE HEAVEN ABOVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: After Frank saves your life, you’re there for him through thick and thin.

Warnings: Violence, language, feminine nicknames, implied smut, mentions of death, reader is a teacher, reader wears glasses

Word count: 5.6k (wow)

Author’s note: Omggg y’all, I dug this up from my Pages app, it’s literally almost 3 years old and that’s why I’m a little nervous to post it but I thought it might actually be some of my best writing, so here we go :) It takes place through Daredevil season 2 all the way to the end of The Punisher Season 1, and I have to admit, I honestly feel like Frank was NOT ready for any kind of love interest during Daredevil but I took some creative liberties, anyway. So this is a little out of character on that front. I’m rambling, I hope you enjoy!! I’m gonna get back to your requests soon <3

Frank felt like somehow days passed by in a flurry yet every second dragged on like the worst torture he had endured — which was saying a lot considering the literal war he had gone through, and the fact he was currently lying in a hospital bed; broken, bruised and with a drilling hole in his foot. And yet waiting to see you was the one thing that got his confidence to falter, his brain to shortcircuit.

For a man so stubborn and determined to do things on his own, he had crumbled so fast when presented with the opportunity to see you again. He hadn’t even realized he had ended up caring about you so deeply, not until the blonde journalist had stepped into his room and the words just poured out of him.

”Would ya do me a favour?” Frank asked as the woman was leaving the room, his gruff voice so uncharacteristically meek and vulnerable, and therefore capable of turning her head immediately. ”Please”, he added weakly, ”my girl… I—there’s someone I need to see. Just once. Please.”

Maybe she was curious about meeting the one person who seemed to mean anything to The Punisher anymore; maybe she felt surprisingly bad for him or maybe it was both, but Karen found herself doing as he asked and tracked you down. She reached out and a few days later… you were walking down the hallways of the hospital, uncomfortably shifting the weight of your leather jacket from one arm to the other, your stomach churning in nervous anticipation.

The sight of several armed guards standing outside the room you were being walked to made you gulp, but you weren’t scared of the man inside. You were scared to see the kind of condition he was in, to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, scared of the moment you’d have to walk out in the uncertainty if you’d ever see him again. But not him. Never him.

Something in Frank came to life when you appeared at the doorway; something he thought to be long dead and buried only for you to always revive him. He lifted his head from the worn pillows and sighed in some kind of relief, only for guilt to lodge into his heart when he saw you scanning his body.

He looked awful, no way around it. Littered in bruises so severe you could barely see his face, you struggled not to cry while looking at the multiple machines connected to him and the abundance of bandages on his tired limbs. What really got to you, though, was the handcuffs on his wrists and the straps across his chest and stomach to make sure there was no room for him to move any more than necessary to sit up and lie back down.

”Jesus…”, you sighed breathlessly, your hands beginning to shake as you walked over to him with a frown so deep it hurt his heart. He knew he might have been a selfish asshole for dragging you here, for making you see what he had tried to protect you from this whole time, for letting you get attached right before it would all go to shit, anyway. But he wasn’t strong enough to push you away. He was capable of enduring much, but he was weak when it came to you. He had tried it, at first, keeping you at arm’s length but you got under his skin in a way that was irreversible and it hurt more to resist than it did to give in. For him, anyway.

”Looks worse than it is, sweetheart”, he rasped, and with a scoff, you finally met his eyes only for the depth of them to catch you off-guard and make you choke on your own tongue. He looked just as attentive and kind as the day you had met him — you swore you’d never forget the way he had hid you behind the counter of the diner, looked right into your eyes and promised he’d make sure you’d make it to class tomorrow; what would the kids do without their teacher, after all?

”They said your foot was… that there was a…”, you stammered, hoping to counter his words with an argument that failed as soon as you tried to get it out. He had never judged you for your tendency to stutter, though, and he didn’t do it now, either. Simply nodded and let you process.

”Yeah. Yeah, there was”, he admitted quietly, licking his split lips as he watched you move to the chair next to his bed and slowly sink down. Even with all the pain in your eyes, you looked so beautiful in one of your worn band shirts and the skirt you had promptly tucked it into, your glasses heavy on your nose and the shimmer of your lipbalm like a red thread for Frank to hang onto like his life depended on it. Amidst all the chaos and ache of his recent weeks, he could just close his eyes and think back to you, and somehow he felt at peace. At least for a second.

”I wish I could… make it all better”, you whispered sadly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek as you looked at his bruised cheekbones.

Frank’s hand reached for yours only for the handcuffs to stop him, the noise of the movement alerting the guard outside the door and pulling a swear from Frank. When he settled his hand back by his side, the guard seemed to relax a little, making both of you sigh — the man wasn’t even allowed to hold your hand.

”Oh, sweetheart”, Frank whispered, ”that’s exactly what you do. You make all this shit better.” He managed a small smile as he tilted his head at you. ”I may just make it worse, but you? Christ, you…”, he struggled to put his thoughts into words, keeping you on your toes as he finally decided against it, ”I’preciate you comin’. I just, uh, I guess I wanted to see you before I get dragged into a courtroom and… yeah. Yeah, there’s no happy ending for me. But for a moment there, you helped me believe there might be”, he went on, only breaking your heart with each word.

You wiped your eyes and chuckled softly. ”You don’t give yourself enough credit, Frankie. You’ve really made things better for me, too. And you deserve a happy ending, however that might look for you”, you swore, casting your eyes at your trembling hands. ”I know it might be weird to say, but I’m grateful I met you. Life-threatening danger and all. You and everyone else may not see it the same way, but you are a good guy. You are”, you continued before sniffling and getting up from your chair enough to press a kiss on his forehead.

You were careful and gentle, unwilling to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt. Yet when you moved to pull away, Frank grunted and reached for your wrist, stopping you from leaving. For a moment, you were forehead to forehead, your lips inches away and his breath mixing with yours.

”Sit with me for a bit? Yeah?” Frank pleaded, and when you nodded, he swallowed and smiled weakly. ”That’s my girl.”

He didn’t see you again until the trial. He spotted you right there in the benches, dressed in your finest red shirt that had his thoughts running a million miles while being walked to the stand. He was dressed in a suit, too, and he almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculous thought of a date swirling in his head. Maybe, in another lifetime, that could have been reality — not him being on trial for murder with you trying to tune out the hate speech spewed at him from the other half of the courtroom.

Most of his bruises had healed by then. You found small comfort in that.

You didn’t get to tell him he looked good, though. You didn’t get to say a single thing when he was announcing his guilt with a booming roar, and the next thing you knew, he was being walked out of the courtroom with a prison sentence looming over his head. You didn’t blame him for doing what he did, and you certainly didn’t expect him to choose you over his morals. But nevertheless, you couldn’t help but cry as he was taken out of sight and you were left with the realization you may never see him again.

You were sitting outside on the steps of the courthouse when a strange hand extended a tissue for you. Just as you looked up, nearly blinded by the sunshine, you were glad you hadn’t said your thought out loud when you saw Frank’s lawyer poke his cane at the steps until he figured where to sit. He lowered himself next to you just as you took the tissue and thanked him for his kindness.

”You’re the woman”, he stated matter-of-factly, and when you turned to him in confusion, he chuckled quietly. ”I recognize your perfume. It… stuck to him”, he explained — even if his explanation remained vague — but you had no time to present any further questions when he continued. ”Frank Castle is not a talkative man. But I’ve noticed whenever he does speak, his words carry meaning. He doesn’t do small talk or state the obvious, he… he only shares what he considers important. And if that is the case, then… you are extremely important to him”, he elaborated before drawing in a deep breath and sending a small smile your way.

Your heart both broke and leaped at his words. You hadn’t exactly doubted it, but it meant a great deal to know Frank cherished you as much as you cherished him.

”And he is to me”, you returned quietly, pulling a slow nod from the man — Matt — who then turned his head at you curiously.

”If you don’t mind me asking… how does a teacher find herself with The Punisher?” he wondered, and considering it your turn to chuckle, you turned to your hands and recalled the night that had turned your life upside down.

”He saved my life. I know that’s how all the cliché fairytales go, but he did. I was at my favorite diner to get some grilled cheese after a long day of work. I was so close to making it, too, when these, uh, thugs came in. Looking for him, unsurprisingly. There was only one other person besides us and they managed to escape before the shooting began, so… Frank hid me behind the counter. He told me he’d keep me safe, that I’d get to see the kids I teach again the next day— he’d heard me talking to the cashier. He’d make sure of it. And he did. He took care of those guys and afterwards he walked me home. I—I owed him my life so I figured the least I could do was ice his knuckles. He must have been barely ten minutes in my apartment but it meant everything. We just… couldn’t get rid of each other after that”, you explained, the sunlight suddenly feeling warmer on your skin and the smile on your lips so free of worry. For a second, anyway.

Matt listened intently — not only to what you were saying, but you. And it didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion. ”You love him”, he declared, and with your head snapping towards him, you frowned.

”We haven’t—there’s nothing—”, you began, your stutter seeping through again, and Matt smiled.

”Whether or not you’ve acted on it, I can hear it. You’ve fallen in love with him”, he emphasized before humming, ”and I think, somewhere deep down underneath all that trauma and guilt and unwillingness to face the facts… he feels the same way.”

You stared at him, disbelief all over your face as you thought about Frank and all your brief touches, all your sweet words and reassuring looks.

”Could you tell him I’ll be right here? Please? Just… let him know that even if I can’t be by his side, he’s not alone”, you whispered, and although he seemed to consider it for a second, Matt ended up nodding.

”I’m sure he’s gonna need that.”

And he wasn’t wrong. Prison was no easy feat, not even for The Punisher.

He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to you. One moment he was sitting in court, listening to his vigilante of a lawyer speak on his behalf, and the next he was being dragged out in chains with your worried face amongst the angry civilians being the last thing he saw. And the big bad Punisher had gone so far as to beg Karen to let him see you for the second time; let you see him, but before she could even consider making it happen, he had been shoved into a white onesie and sent on his way to prison with his jagged memories trying hard to recall the last words you had spoken to him.

It had been something kind — that much he had decided on while sitting in his cell. You were always so fucking kind, and so understanding, even when he doubted he deserved it. You were a good person; a troubled one but you had weathered every storm and stuck to your morals, and he admired that to no end. You didn’t have a judgmental bone, not a single ounce of hatred for anyone who didn’t deserve it, sometimes not even those who did. He thought that maybe he was unworthy of your friendship and sympathy sometimes, but you gave it to him anyway, without question and without expectation. You liked him for who he was, not who he had been, and you didn’t try to change his mind and steer his path.

At least he had the message Red had passed onto him to keep him going.

It was those unexplainably good-hearted intentions of yours and the unconditional support he hadn’t realized he missed so much, that made him fall in love with you. He struggled with it for a while, wondering if he was ready; if he should have felt guilty, but eventually the desire to keep you safe and the longing to hold you close became too evident to ignore.

And he truly knew when one of the assholes he had put down had taunted him about his lady, only for his mind to go to you instead of Maria.

He had been writing a letter to you when his heart-pouring onto paper was interrupted by a taunting laugh outside his cell. ”Writing a love letter to your lady?” one of the gang members in his block teased, and with a grit in his teeth, Frank forced himself to not pick a fight — a successful attempt until the burly man went on. ”Would be a shame if anyone got their hands on your girl now that you ain’t out there to protect—”, he continued, his words cut off with a wheeze when Frank clamored out of his seat and promptly stabbed the pen into his neck. It was a good thing he had already signed the letter.

Realistically, he knew it may have been an empty threat. Nonetheless, as soon as he was out of prison, the letter tucked in the pocket of his jacket, he made his way to you. Making you were safe was priority number one — and if he’d get the chance to hand over the envelope and open his heart to you… Well, that would just be the cherry on top. He had promised to get out and tell you how he felt, to stop being a coward and admit that he wanted to be there for you, that he loved you, and that was exactly what he planned on doing.

Although, things never went exactly as planned.

He had so much determination and courage in his heart when he knocked on your door, but as soon as you opened it and your short figure appeared right in front of him, it all drained from his system. All he was left with was bare amazement and the reserved hope that you’d still welcome him into your home — he knew he had burned more than enough bridges with his little stunt in court, and he had spent many sleepless nights wondering if he had scared you off, too. That worry only now flared into a genuine fear as he watched astonishment wipe across your face, his own expression meek and his large body trying to shrink on itself to seem less intimidating.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he managed, his voice raspy as ever, his dark eyes scanning your face and trying to make sense of the speechless trance you had been stunned into.

It was justified, of course. Who would expect a convicted criminal on their doorstep?

That wasn’t exactly what was on your mind, though. You had never doubted that Frank would get back up somehow; he couldn’t be kept down — but you couldn’t believe he had come to you. A man like him surely had places to be, people to kill, things to do and somehow… he was right there in front of you in all his glory, not bleeding out and in need of stitches, either. Just… there.

You didn’t realize how emotional the sight of him had gotten you until you opened your mouth and the words escaped you with a choke. ”Is it okay if I hug you?” you cracked, and with a deep, even relieved sigh, Frank let his tense shoulders drop and his head bob in a nod as he opened his arms.

He welcomed you gladly, his big arms winding around your smaller body to encompass you against his entirely. He realized then that you were wrapped up in one of the hoodies he had left behind, his confidence boosting but his heart breaking just a little at the thought of you sitting at home alone in his clothes, comforted by his scent and wondering if he’d ever come back to you. And right there and then, he knew he had made the right choice in doing so.

”I missed you”, you whispered into his chest, your heart doing somersaults at the firmness of it, your eyes fallen shut as you breathed him in and basked in his warmth and all his rough edges that only confirmed he was real and not a figment of your imagination, not a daydream, even if he had occupied nearly all of them for the past months.

”Missed ya too, girl”, he muttered into your hair, and as he held you there, grateful to have you again, the doubt began creeping in and the letter in his pocket started to seem like a bad idea. What if it would simply push you away, just when he got you in his arms?

Swallowing, he then decided maybe it was better not to bring it up.

”Hey, I, uh…”, he cleared his throat when you stepped back to welcome him into your apartment. He treaded carefully, like any second now you’d change your mind and turn him away — and he wouldn’t blame you, either. Trouble followed him wherever he went, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming to you every time. ”Look, there’s… a lot going on, y’know? Some shit might go down and I just…”, he continued, uncertain of his own words as his gaze fell to the nervously fiddling hands in front of him, ”I don’t want ya to look at the news and rethink the kinda guy I am, y’know?”

Chuckling, you shook your head at him. ”The news couldn’t change my mind about you, Frankie”, you reassured in a way that had his chest tightening. ”You’re my friend and—and a good guy, even if with… unique methods. But you are. Just because you have blood on your hands, doesn’t make you a bad man”, you went on, but he could tell you were nervous, too. He just couldn’t see past himself enough to understand it wasn’t fear making you tremble.

”I think you are loyal and sweet and protective and… capable of making people feel safe and appreciated. When I’m with you, I feel respected and understood. Never judged or unsafe”, you added, and with an amazed twinkle in his dark eyes, Frank looked up at you. Jesus, that was exactly how he felt around you. His lungs and throat were screaming at him to just tell you, but instead, he gave you a doubtful tilt of his head.

”You’re not scared?” he confirmed quietly, and with a small smile, you gave him a look.

”I’m not scared of you, Frank. I’m…”, you breathed in, hesitating before widening your smile and shaking your head, ”I’m not scared.” What you really wanted to tell was that you were nervous because you liked him — loved him. But you never felt threatened by him.

”Good”, he swallowed, defiance suddenly ablaze in his eyes as he seemed to relax. ”’Cause I’d never hurt ya. Shit, you make me wanna…”, he laughed, unsure where he was going with that thought. ”I just wanna keep you safe, sweetheart. Look after you”, he finished with a sigh, the kind that knew he was officially in too deep. You got him good.

”Then I’ll look after you, too”, you promised, gesturing at his hands, ”starting with those knuckles of yours.”

He was almost amused, but when you seriously dug a small tube of hand cream from your bag and began rubbing the lotion onto his bruised hands, all he could do was stare at you, completely enamored by your kindness and the feeling of your gentle hands tending to his damaged ones.

It was almost ironic, really — you were gentle, he was damaged. In your mind, it was the other way around, and maybe that was why it worked. You were different in so many ways but the bare essentials were still there, making you an undeniable match even if neither of you were brave enough to say it out loud right now. But him being in your apartment and you lotioning his calloused hands spoke in volumes, reassuring you both that it was safe like this.

He hadn’t been wrong, though. Shit hit the fan fast and in a matter of days, Frank Castle was a dead man as far as the world was concerned.

Before that, though, he was coaxed further into the realization of just how important you were to him. He was used to nightmares, in fact, he anticipated them each night. And yet, that night, his hands still smelling like your vanilla lotion, he found himself dreaming of you, your big smile, your sweet laugh and your soft lips.

Jesus Christ, he wanted you so bad. All of you.

It was a little harder to go about his mission then. You occupied his mind constantly now, and he began to resent himself for being such a coward and not giving you the letter, after all.

And when he jumped off an exploding ship, he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to tell you. Once he made it out in one piece, he decided he couldn’t risk losing the opportunity again.

You had just seen the news on the TV, and as badly as you wanted to believe no body meant no death, your stomach was twisting and turning. The idea of Frank being gone, just like that, was one that began chipping at your sanity. Thankfully, you didn’t get to sit with it for very long when there was a knock on your door, and you practically ran to open it, never more relieved to see the hunk of a man.

You tugged him into your apartment and sealed the door behind him before hugging him tight, on the verge of tears as you felt his firm body against yours and consoled yourself. He was there. He was alive. Well? Debatable.

”I’m okay, sweetheart, ’m okay. Can’t get rid of me that easy”, he chuckled darkly, his heart skipping a beat when you pulled away and looked right into his eyes. You looked so beautiful yet so vulnerable, and he couldn’t put his feelings into words when he realized he had gotten you so worked up. He hated to cause you any pain, but to know you cared that much?

”Shit…”, he breathed, licking his lips as he gently placed a hand on your jaw and groaned. ”C’mere”, he whispered before leaning down to kiss you, both your eyes closing as he placed his lips on yours, deep and tentative. You melted closer to him, your hands resting on his vest while he cupped your face and kissed you hard, breathing you in and reveling in the taste and feeling of you.

It was better than he had imagined, all anger and hatred leaving his system for the fleeting moment when he got to have just you, nothing else.

He wanted to take his sweet time with you but the yearning was too great to contain. In no time, you were lying on your back on your mattress with Frank on top of you, trying to hold back some of his weight as he kissed your neck and unzipped your skirt. He muttered words of praise and flattery against your soft skin, eyes blown wide with genuine admiration when he kissed his way down to your thighs and made you repeat his name in desperate begs and pleas.

A part of him was sure he was dreaming again, your head rested upon his bare chest, his fingers carding through your hair as you listened to his heartbeat and basked in the afterglow of the hours spent together. It was the middle of the night by now, the sounds of city never fully gone but toned down, your bed feeling like a safe haven amidst all the chaos around you both.

But Frank knew there was no permanent escape from what he had reshaped his life into. The thing was, you didn’t want to be an escape — you wanted to be part of it.

Nevertheless, he spoke up gruffly. ”Y’know I can’t stay, right?” he was quiet, his words a weak whisper, like a shameful confession he didn’t want the world to know. ”I mean, I’mma be with you tonight if you’ll let me, but I… I can’t leave things unfinished. The world thinks ’m dead, y’know, that’s just… It’s an advantage and I just—”, he went on, but you interjected with a nod and your hand smoothing up and down his chest soothingly.

”I know. I understand”, you promised before kissing his collarbone softly, ”I know, Frank. You don’t need to explain any more than you want to.”

He swallowed then, trying to muster up the courage to say what had been on his mind for so long. ”I, uh, I can’t ask you to hold out hope for me, but uh… I just want you to know…”, he tried to find the right words, licking his lips nervously before sighing and burying his face in your hair with a somber kiss. ”You don’t owe me shit. But you’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Look, I gotta do my thing, but I don’t want you to think it’s easy to walk away from you because, fuck… I don’t wanna lose ya, sweetheart”, he explained further, making you smile against his scarred skin.

”I will always hold out hope for you, Frank. My door will always be open for you”, you replied simply, and even though you didn’t elaborate further, it was all he needed to hear. Just knowing you weren’t ready to give up on him.

And that was why he wasn’t going to do it, either.

He kept in touch in whatever small, Frank-esque ways he could. A note on your door, a novelty mug on your windowsill, a comforting message from an unknown number. Sometimes all you had was the remains of his aftershave enveloped in the sweaters he had left behind, or the slander of his name on the news even when he was presumed dead — it was small but it reminded you that he was, in fact, alive, and as long as he was that, then you had faith that one day he’d be back on your doorstep.

Sometimes he felt like an irredeemable asshole for making you wait for him. If only you had the chance, you would have told him to get his head out of his ass — you had fallen for him, and whether he wanted you to be there or not, you would have thought about him, worried over him, longed for him. He could have tried to distance himself from you if he wanted to, but he was so deeply entwined into your life by now that all the roots simply couldn’t be plucked out anymore.

And he may have been stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. Knowing how he felt about you, how being away from you made him ache, he suspected you shared the yearning and he knew that trying to push you away wouldn’t have healed either of you from it. So he kept in contact however he could, but not too close to keep his enemies off your trail.

You checked the news every day. And when you saw Billy Russo’s face plastered across your screen, his arrest making the headlines, you knew it was a good day.

Accordingly, there was promptly a knock on your door, and you felt your heart soar as you peeked through the peephole and saw the only man worth waiting for on the other side. You swung the door open, and in an instant, a smile stretched across his bruised face as he help up a bouquet of daffodils, making you grin, too.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he murmured, pulling you into a hug that shut off your senses from everything but him — all you smelled, felt and heard was him, your systems threatening to fail as you clung onto him like your life depended on it and felt his lips leave soft kisses on your forehead and hair. ”There ya are. As goddamn beautiful as I remembered”, he whispered, relieved to be holding you again, even a little proud of himself for making it here.

It wasn’t like he needed the extra motivation on all those long nights away — avenging his family was all the fuel he craved, but knowing that at the end of it all, he had someone to fall back on, encouraged him even more.

”I could say the same about you”, you chuckled while pulling away enough to place a gentle hand on his face and observe all the purple and yellow markings left there. It was obvious he had taken a beating, but if the news was to be trusted, Billy had suffered a fate much worse. And despite all the slowly healing scars on Frank’s sharp features, he was alive, and he was right there for you to admire and tend to.

”This ugly mug?” he snorted while kicking the door shut and pushing his hood off of his head, his hair grown out again and begging for your fingers to run through. Regardless of the mangled appearance, though, he seemed almost hopeful, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you with a twinkle in his dark eyes. He seemed exhausted physically, but mentally, a little less tired. And that made you indescribably happy for him.

”I’m proud of you”, you breathed out, a smile crawling to your own face, ”you did what you needed to do, right? You… you did good. You deserve to rest now.”

Frank looked a little taken aback by your words. Not in a bad way, but it was obvious no one had told him before nor had he expected anyone to. But the quiet chuckle that rose from his throat was genuinely flattered, as was the squint of his eyes as he leaned forward and gave you a tiny nod.

”Thank you, sweetheart. Really”, he rasped before taking in a deep breath, ”any chance I’d, uh, get to rest here? With you?” The look in his eyes was almost boyish, almost nervous, and it made your heart soar the same way his gaze had the first night you had met.

”Always, Frankie”, you promised before placing a hand on his chest and beaming up at him, ”I was hoping you’d say that.”

He licked his lips and looked down at you, hand coming to your neck tenderly with his thumb brushing across your chin. ”I feel like shit for the way I left you back then. I, uh, I hope you didn’t feel like I was just… tryna get in your bed, y’know? It was more than that to me. You are more than that to me. It’s, I dunno, hard for me to put it into words but I care about ya. More than I have about anyone in a long time, I guess”, he explained awkwardly, but you didn’t doubt his sincerity for a single second.

You leaned up to briefly kiss him, and the way he leaned forward to get more made your stomach churn. Nevertheless, you pulled apart to speak your turn, your smaller hand still resting on his bruised cheek.

”I know. I never doubted it. And I don’t expect you to be anyone else but you. I want you as you, Frank”, you reassured, and with a heavy sigh, he dropped his forehead to yours.

”Girl… I want you”, he urged, and you smiled as he briefly touched your lips with the tip of his finger.

”I’m all yours, Frankie.”

[punkpandapatrixk]

✨THAT GIRL ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘I know everything has its time and you cannot compete with destiny, is what I say. What I thought I wanted when I was younger, it wasn’t my time to have. I wanted to work with Calvin Klein—I did the fashion shows but I never did the ads. So it took me 34 years to do an ad. And, I said, “Okay. It’s okay. That’s my time.”’ – Naomi Campbell

Hey, Gorgeous~♥︎

Why do I get the feeling your fabulous era is coming fast? There’s this thing with Divine Timing, you know. As you work daily on yourself to become a vibrational match to your D E S T I N Y✨ the time will come when the world is ready to witness your S P A R K L E S✨

Your Light is needed by this world, in whatever capacity you feel a resonance with and in whatever fashion you find most exciting! We each have our divine time to be seen and heard. We can’t rush the caterpillar to grow into a butterfly, right? Often, there’s a painstaking process there. So what to do in the meantime? Become THAT GIRL you’ve always known yourself to be🌷

Who are you at the core of your being, Girl? Basically, if you nurture aspects of yourself that feel natural to you, you’ll discover that the key to your Destiny has always been in your hand. You just need to explore your potentials, experiment with yourself, test your limits and expand your horizon until you find the DOOR that’s the right fit for your key🚪🗝️

Live for yourself. Do whatever you wanna do and find yourself in the midst of novelty and temptation. So that you find your UNIQUE strength from within.

All in Divine Timing. Your fabulous era is coming~🦋

SONG: ♥︎Lonely in Gorgeous♥︎ by Tommy february6

SERIES: Paradise Kiss (2005)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – That Happy-Go-Lucky Girl

VIBE: Hot Summer by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 8 of Pentacles Rx

ADMIT IT. You loathe the idea of ‘hard work’. Gosh, the world is full of wonders and humanity has found a way to invent boredom and be depressed! You are definitely a Faery Soul. You have a unique, more sensitive point of view which causes the whole notion of ‘hard work’ to get over your head. Why work and not just play? Why is it so impossible for people to embrace lightheartedness and just, BE, happy? You just want to dip yourself in pastel glitter all day long.

For one, you’re definitely a rebel—whatever your style may be. You have so little regard for rules if you’re being honest. If anything, you make your own rules after careful testing and experimentation. That’s what you do with fashion as well. Fashion is fickle, but style is forever. And to you, there can be more than one style that you can call your own. You don’t like to limit yourself when it comes to things you can do, try or wear.

You can be like a chameleon and you love that fluidity/flexibility of yours. But on top of that, you’re also transformative. You’re a highly creative soul who has a penchant for reinventing your personal brand over and over again. You’re the brazen type that can rock ANY style and people still say, ‘That’s totally THAT GIRL’S style no matter what she does/wears!’ You possess a really strong, magnetic, energy signature.

path of least resistance – 8 of Wands Rx

Your aenergy is reminding me of famous rebels of Harajuku. Harajuku is a tiny, tiny, tiny patch of the entire fabric of Japanese society, but the creative souls who dwell there exude such POWERFUL aura. Exactly because they have a rebellious energetic signature that they express rather unapologetically😊

These are the rebels who know they’re meant to carve out a lifestyle of their own in the midst of Japan’s disgusting policy of conformity. The 8 of Wands in reverse here is literally representing the notion of a koi fish that swims upstream to become a dragon… or something like that. This is a Kafkaesque energy! You go the other way, baby—don’t follow the crowd because even they don’t know where they’ll end up!

The more you try to conform and follow what everyone else is doing, the more miserable and unlucky you become! Because doing so is against the policy of your Faery Soul’s authenticity. Whatever line of occupation you are interested in—genuinely interested in—I just know you’re meant to do your ‘job’ playfully, creatively, lightheartedly, passionately, and BEAUTIFULLY. Whatever you do, it’s pointless if you’re not surrounded by BEAUTY.

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – King of Swords Rx

Ay ay, don’t use too much logic, babe. You’re magic🧚🏻‍♀️Your intuition is more reliable than your intellect, trust yourself on this one. You possess this peculiar type of intelligence that is fuelled by passion from your heart. That said, your gut instinct is also that much stronger than your capacity for cognitive calculation. Hope that makes sense. You are essentially an otherworldly being. Though you may often feel like you’re a chaotic pile of confusion because of that.

Actually, you have spidey senses that help you notice a lot of things all at once and you don’t always know how to explain that. You just, absorb so much information from visual cues, auditory cues, and other invisible cues you pick up from the collective or aether. There’s always so much going on inside you because of this. But you’re just processing all of that information, so don’t worry, you’re not as chaotic as you think😆This is a SUPERPOWER!

You just need time to learn to accept this superpower and use it to your advantage. Didn’t Peter Parker also go through some hardships in the beginning? Before he knew how to use his new mutant powers? Yeah, something like that. Go do your weird shit and be a maverick. That’s how you become a vibrational match to your SPARKLY DESTINY🌟

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻💗

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Enchantment

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Divination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – That NU IT Girl

VIBE: LA chA TA by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 10 of Wands Rx

With you, there’s a strong energy of a debutante girl who kinda just popped out of nowhere, springing forth from obscurity. The reality though, is that you worked really hard to grow into this new IT GIRL in town. Your hustle tends to be unseen by others. I’m guessing you have significant placements in the 8th House and 12th House; or those energies ruled by Scorpio/Pluto and Pisces/Neptune.

I think you genuinely like it that way though. Keep ‘em guessing, is your motto. It’s entertaining to you when people can’t figure out how you’re, YOU. Let the mystery of your growth keep ‘em speculating. You love it when people can’t stop talking about you. You don’t even mind the gossip. As long as all attention is on you~ You’ve got the whole world wrapped around your fingers~

You gravitate towards luxury and you love trends. It’s like, following trends is the only way you feel like you still belong to the Human Race. Unless you do so, you feel left out because you’re a real hustler HAHAH You tend to isolate yourself to study and work on building your empire. Though you may seem shallow to those who just know you on a surface level, I think pretending to be normal like this exhausts the living shit out of you.

path of least resistance – IX The Hermit Rx

You’re probably more spiritually attuned than you let out. Especially if you have significant 8th House/Scorpio or 12th House/Pisces qualities to you. Because of this, you tend to be a hermit, enjoying doing your own thing at your pace. Your inner world is more interesting than the outer world full of shallow and stupid people. You can’t stand that their ambitions are so tiny LMAO

However, it does seem like you can sometimes get obsessive with your studies or work. This is giving me that vibe of someone who’s become so comfortable in the darkness they get blinded once the curtains are lifted. You remind me of Sherlock Holmes played by Robert Downey Jr. A smart, calculating, strategizing weirdo who isn’t that great at social settings🤣

Of all the Piles, you seem the least in need of this kind of reading—because you already have a strong sense of self. You seem to me like you have your identity established already. You’re clear about your likes and interests and these aren’t going to change easily. I think this is partly why you can be into trends—all for you to feel like you’re less boring. Hahah I don’t think you’re boring; you’re timeless, babe✨

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – 7 of Wands

With your heightened sense of class and timelessness, you could be prone to envy and jealousy, right? You’re essentially someone who’s incredibly blessed, on top of that, you’re hard working. It’s only natural so much good fortune is bestowed upon you. You’re a go-getter. You aren’t afraid to claim your prizes. And I think you should honour and protect this with your life.

Having said that, I still get this feeling that your Higher Self wants you to share your burdens with someone trustworthy. If you could surround yourself with a tiny inner circle of Soul Friends, that’d be more than enough. It’s good to have a few friends you can count on. But if your trust has been broken and your faith wounded, this could take some time to heal, so that’s also understandable.

The most important thing is that you never settle for less in your friendships and even business relationships. You don’t have to ask for much; you just need to ask for what’s true. I have a feeling when you’re older you will be blessed with amazing rendezvous with a bunch of your Soul Family. Until then, enjoy shining on your own terms. You’re IT~

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻🧡

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Prosperity

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Faith

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – That Transcendent Alien Girl

VIBE: NU ABO by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 5 of Pentacles Rx

As per usual, Pile 3 often carries an alien vibe—in this case, almost robotic. You’re futuristic and avantgarde in the way you think, do or say things. With two Major Arcana, I can’t help but mention that you’re likely a Starseed or a Lightworker. Being one usually means you’ve had to face many oppositions in Life to get you all prepped up for your Destiny! What are you gonna do about it? Refuse your tasks and let the whole rotten world kill your Light? Hell nah.

What’s incredibly interesting about you is your morality. You have a super strong sense for justice and you carry yourself with high standards of morality. It’s just…because you’re an alien, what is moral to you might not always agree with the convention. You’re the type of person who notices how justice in this world is totally broken. I’m not even talking about a nation’s justice system—I’m talking about the general sense of what’s right and wrong for reward and punishment.

You’re the type that on the inside could be like Genghis Khan, Joseph Stalin or the Joker and Harley Quinn. You aren’t afraid to blow a damage to someone or a situation that’s been unfair. Your being chaotic, destructive, or simply disruptive as a punishment, is what’s JUST in your book of morality. I’m reminded of the story of the German Revenge Mother, so yeah… That’s real justice because this world’s moral compass looks terribly like a joke to you.

‘I am the punishment of God... If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.’ – Genghis Khan

path of least resistance – I The Magician Rx

Because your energetic signature is very alien, you’re a born eccentric. No matter what you do, you’re just…abnormal. Different. Depending who sees you, you’re either an inspiration or an eyesore. You can’t help it. You stand out too much. Those who see you as an inspiration though, usually feel so because your example (or your stories) gives them a sense of validation.

You clearly don’t belong; but you’re carefully doing your own thing; carving out your very own existence; establishing your place in the world through sharing and flaunting your unique talents. THAT is incredibly validating for other rebels, eccentrics, and outcasts who are similar in vibe to you. You are a powerful creator—a Magician—whether or not you’re aware of this at present.

Have you ever had this crazy feeling on the inside, that sometimes, you’ve felt like your moods affect the local weather near you? Or maybe you’ve caused electricity to go haywire when your emotions are heightened? Have you felt like your hands sometimes cause batteries to run out faster? Do you get electric shocks a lot even when the thing you’re touching shouldn’t be a natural conductor for electricity? Wood or even plastic?

Bitch, you possess a crazy amount of creator energy in you. Sometimes it leaks as sparks of insanity in the physical realm because that amount of potent energy needs to be moved. Remember: energy can’t be created or destroyed; it can only be moved or transferred. You were born with this insanity because you’re an alien. You’re more than capable of handling it. All of that is just needing you to learn to channel IT properly into passionate pursuits that can benefit Humanity~♥︎

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – VI The Lovers

I know you get shy sometimes. Thinking that your dreams and visions are too cringe or too wild, too crazy. But you wouldn’t even be able to perceive those visions if you weren’t capable of manifesting them. So, there’s a reason for that. And more likely than not, you’re meant to see it through that those visions become Reality. As for the cringe part…

Aish, your imaginations just need polishing. They’ll get better as you refine your senses and develop your tastes. Your Reality is bound to be more high-quality eventually LMAO Trust yourself for that! All great artists also started out quite pathetic if you compare their masterpieces to their pre-debut, or even debut, works. The manifestation of your desires is also a form of Art like that.

The more you merge with your Higher Self the more this will make sense. In the meantime, what you’re meant to be focusing on is your Lower and Higher Selves integration. The Human and the Spirit, ah I mean, the Human and the Alien merging as one navigating existence in this Earth Matrix😉

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻💙

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Ritual

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Beauty

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[mingsolo]

hot and buttered

mingi x reader (f) / g: established relationship, smut / wc: 813 / warnings: cursing, masturbation (both), phone sex, semi public sex but not rly / r: 18+

another tipsy drabbles log :^)

Mingi couldn't believe it.

You said you will be there for the birthday party his mom had prepared for him. It was a little early from his actual birthday, sure, but it was a party for his special day anyways.

A few miles away, you hurriedly finish getting ready,  you know Mingi´s now sulky about you not being able to make it to his parents house, but this client was important and if you didn't go personally to sign things up apparently, it was a deal breaker for them.

Before leaving for the meeting you call him, trying to sound innocent and sweet but the pout on Mingi´s lips was palpable even from the other side of the phone. 

“After this I'll get a few weeks off and we can celebrate for sure! I promise, your birthday isn't coming until next week” 

“Yeah I know…¨Mingi sounded defeated on the other line. “But my mom really wanted you here, and i really miss you…¨

You recognized the tone, his already low tone went lower and he dragged his words, which honestly just made you instinctively rub your tights together. You glance at the clock, you have some time to make it up for him, only a little.

“Mingi, are you alone?” you heard Mingi groan softly, and the sound of his steps hurriedly going somewhere. 

“Mingi! Don't be late, the food is almost ready, is yn getting here soon?” 

The voice of Mingi´s mom sounded in the background, Mingi replying to her a hasty “I'm going to change mom, i'll be outside in a minute!” made you smile. You lay on the bed, waiting for him to get to whatever he wanted to go to, probably his childhood bedroom.  “I'm here, yn?” 

“I'm here too, tell me what you´ ve been thinking?” 

Mingi whispers. “You here, with me. In my bedroom. You touch me, licking me…¨he stops and groans. “I'm sorry I'm just… I need you”

“It's fine love, I'm here to help you not miss me so much, again, I'm sorry I can't be there today, but ill make it up for you meanwhile, can you lay down for me on your bed?¨ Mingi swallows and you can hear him shifting his position. “Good. now I'm thinking how much I wish to sit between your legs and take in my mouth, you must be so hard right now” Mingi moans, the sounds of his hands on his length pumping slowly are unmistakable. “Imagine how i'd look while i suck you off so good, licking my lips as i get some air, you know how much i struggle to take you whole”

“Fuck” Mingi groans, the palming noises are faster. “Yes, I love that sight, you always do so well” 

Your hands slowly go down the hem of your skirt, slowly rubbing circles over your clit until Mingi´s whimpers and moans get impossible to resist, and you whine wishing you were indeed sucking him off right now. You slide one finger and then another, as his breathing gets more agitated. 

“How many fingers?” he asks plainly, and you bite your lip. He knows you too fucking well. Knows you can't resist his voice more than he can resist yours. 

“Two” you whine, pressing another. “Imagine me licking you, suckign you, as much as i can, you will probably make me choke if im not careful, you so fucking big you know?” you breathe, trying to pace yourself to finish aligning Mingi, who´s wet stroking sounds become louder by the second. 

“When i got back home, ill fuck you so good”

You hummed in response, a moment of silence of just both your breathing and whimpering filled the line that connected you. 

“I'm not resisting anymore… please, let me…” Mingi pleaded. “Please come with me, yeah?” 

“Where do you want it?” the words easily slipping form you, imaging it was his cock and not your fingers inside you. 

“All over you, please just let me…” a loud whine stopped Mingi mid sentence, alongside a loud bang that made you pop your eyes open. 

“Mingi! The food is ready and everyone is waiting outside!¨

“Fuck… “ he whispered, both breathless and annoyed. “One minute, I'm changing!¨´

You laughed loudly. The knot on your stomach evaporated as soon as you heard Mingi´s mom's voice but it made you laugh imagining how much of a mess Mingi would be in this moment. 

“Love, are you alright?” 

“Pff fuck, i made a fucking mess……. not the lamp!” Mingi giggles. You both laughed, embarrassed and amused. “I'm sorry about that, i'll tell everyone you couldn't make it… and, make it up for you as soon as I get home”

“I'm sure you will, I miss you so much” 

“I love you yn, so fucking much” you hear kissing noises on the other side.

“Oh Mingi, I do too.” 

[urhoneycombwitch]

in sickness, to cherish

foreword: so excited to release this lil’ babe into the world. PTSD and trauma healing is of special interest to me, I hope you enjoy 💖 (p.s. from my limited research I don’t think they would have used a heart monitor for low-risk patients but it is literally integral to my plot so I’m breaking my anachronistic purity rule. soz)

wc: 3k

cw: descriptions of seizure, PTSD + hospital/medical trauma for the whole gang, brief mention of non-consensual drugging, R is referred to once as “Mrs” & “girlfriend”, angst w/ comfort

___

The mounted clock on the wall of the dingy Hawkins Memorial waiting room ticks over to nine PM, a brutal reminder that time (for everyone else, at least) has not, in fact, stopped.

Nine o’clock. As you pace from one end of the plastic chair-lined aisle to the other, you run the numbers in your head, fingers spastic at your sides- it’s nine right now, and Steve was admitted just after six, which means they’ve been running tests for three hours, even though the charge nurse said it should only take one…

”You wanna step outside for a smoke?”

Eddie speaks up from his seat at the end of the row, catching your bleary gaze before you’re turning on your heel again to complete your looping track.

His voice cuts smoothly over the buzzing fluorescents, the old television in the corner droning with last week’s news cycle; it’s enough to disrupt Robin from her half-sleep against Eddie’s shoulder, blinking into consciousness and stretching her stiff limbs as you respond.

“No, thanks.” Your hands slip to the inside of your elbows, squeezing through layers of soft cardigan in a near-bruise, feet continuing the rhythmic pacing. “You can go, though- I’ll make sure Robin comes to get you if anything happens.”

Eddie clears his throat, sinking back into the hard plastic, rings clicking at the armrests. “Nah, I’m good without one. Just thought you’d want a change of scenery, maybe some fresh air would calm-”

“I’m staying here.”

There’s a sharpness to your voice, a rarity- Robin winces, fingers in her lap twisting and fidgeting as she tries to change the subject. “God, Steve’s gonna be spitting mad when he wakes up. He’s the most doctor-adverse person I know.”

Eddie latches on to this with a humorless chuckle- “Stubborn bastard. Wouldn’t let those lab goons go near him, even after last year-”

“Fuck.” The swear comes from the bottom of your toes, even as you swivel on the balls of your feet to loop back in front of your friends; their faces snap to you, a blur of motion as you pass them again- “You’re right. Steve fucking hates doctors. I should’ve-”

Your next breath comes stilted, fingers a vice-grip on your own arms as you pace, pace, pace- “I should’ve treated this like taking a dog to a vet. Crushed up some pills in his food, or something- he never listens to me when I nag him about his hearing getting worse- do you know how many meals, how many glasses of water we share, every day?”

From the corner of your hazy vision, Robin’s gone still and pale, her voice tremulous- “I didn’t mean to imply- this isn’t your fault, you know-”

But you’re not ready to hear that, guilt surfacing like a sick wave, tears pooling, moments away from spilling over, voice trembling with anguish- “Could’ve been so easy, tell him we’re going for a ride, load him up into the passenger seat, he goes to sleep and I could’a passed him right off to a doctor, to someone who could have prevented this-”

Eddie rises from his seat to stand in the middle of your path, hands lifting to soothe and appease, but you’re still in flight mode, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.

You flinch away from his touch, standing with your back turned to them both, staring out the dark window, unseeing. “You know what Steve said to me? Right before he hit the ground? He said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m gonna pass out, try not to let my hair get too messed up.’”

An edge of misplaced humor draws a dry laugh from your throat. The dark window reflects your own face back- tear-streaked, red veins encroaching on the whites of your eyes- as you shake your head in disbelief. “He made a joke. To try and distract me from the fact that he was about to hit the ground and go all… all spastic-”

Unbidden flashes of memory surge to the forefront of your mind: victims of last spring. Twisted forms snapped at the bone, Max’s arms and legs bent at horrifying angles, plaster casts from head-to-toe, freckled face still and sallow against the starch-white hospital sheets-

A leather-jacketed form in the reflection behind you, Eddie’s hand solid on your back against the shuddering breaths wracking all the air from your lungs. You don’t flinch away this time.

Your beautiful boy. Steve. With his eye-crinkling smiles and sharp wit and gentle heart, stiff as a board in the middle of your living room, eyes rolled back in his skull like a downed deer, unreachable, just three hours ago.

“I thought it was Vecna. It’s been so long but I thought he’d come back, somehow, I was this close to running upstairs and grabbing our Walkman-”

”But you didn’t.” The hand at your back is joined by another at your arm as Eddie pulls you to face him, his gaze locking on your own, brown eyes full of grave compassion. “You heard the nurse. She said tipping him on his side was the best call you could’a made, sweetheart- you saved him.”

”But I didn’t know,” you insist, “I didn’t know that’s what would help, I just did it ‘cuz I was worried he was going to choke on his own tongue-”

“Semantics. You intuited it, then.” One of Eddie’s hands leaves your arm briefly to make a dismissive gesture through the air- “Which, in my book, is all the more impressive.”

Unconvinced, your voice small and tightening along with your chest- “What if this happens again, and he’s alone, this time? What if he’s working one of his three closing shifts a week, without Robin- what if he’s driving?”

You can’t help the spiraling of your thoughts, what-if scenarios jumping in line, each one more horrifying than the last.

Robin rises to stand beside Eddie, opens her mouth- to deny, to comfort, it’s unclear- but is interrupted by a new nurse who’s just appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

This snaps you back to earth, a bit, another watery laugh as Eddie takes a step back, allowing you to swipe at the mess of tears on your face before turning to the nurse- “Yeah. As good as, I guess. How’s he doing?”

With a last look at your friends, the nurse leads you down sickeningly-bright corridors while reading from a clipboard- most of it’s medical jargon, your foggy brain struggling to keep up as you stay on her heels.

What you gather, as you’re led to his room, is nothing new- Steve’s had a seizure, likely due to the trauma his brain incurred from the ‘earthquake’ of ‘86, and it’s unclear what triggered it, or if it’s likely to happen again.

“We’re going to keep him overnight, just to monitor his condition.” The nurse stops at a door labeled Room 202, hinges squeaking as she pushes it open. “He was really lucky, this time. Must’ve had a good guardian angel looking out for him.”

Heart thrumming thick in your throat, you almost ask the nurse to wait, to give you a second- maybe a quick bathroom break to splash some cold water against the tear-tracks, or even an extra few seconds to pretend at being stoic- but she’s already ushering you in with a kind smile.

The nurse pulls the door shut, and you’re left alone with the boy in the bed.

He looks exhausted, dark circles pulling at the soft skin below his eyes, which are full of relief, trained on you as you approach.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” There’s a scratchy quality to Steve’s voice, on its way to being lost.

You were doing really well, no crying or anything, before he spoke. But hearing him, paired with the awful sight of a medical cord wrapping around the width of his broad chest, has your face crumpling in an instant.

“Oh, shit. Aw, honey. C’mere-” Steve reaches for you, halfway to sitting up off his supporting pillows, and you quickly close the gap, sitting near his hip on the bed.

“No, hey- stay down,” you chide through the tears, pushing at the shoulder of his white hospital tee. “Don’t put any stress on your body.”

“Cut the stress, she says,” Steve grumbles, leaning back against the stack of pillows but compromising by pulling you in closer. “My baby’s crying, and she tells me no stress?”

His left palm slips over your cheek, thumb swiping away tears, while his right hand- IV taped flat over the back of it- slides to rest on your waist.

”Gonna tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Under different circumstances, you’d laugh at his question- christ, where did he want you to start: but with that amber gaze so full of empathy, desperate to fix what’s making you sad, you’re stripped raw with sincerity.

”I was just- I was so scared, Steve-”

Steve pulls your face towards his, needily, a breath away from begging for a kiss before you lean in for one.

He tastes salty, like sweat and tears, lips plush and softly seeking against the seam of your own. Between the kisses, he’s mumbling apologies, “sorry, so sorry”, broken by the need to be as close to you as all the medical gear will allow.

There’s a soft noise from the back of his throat, and you pull away just enough to bump your nose into his, hands running up to push through the soft strands of his hair.

Steve practically purrs under your touch; you’re careful not to disturb the tubing wrapping around the length of his chest, leaning your weight into his shoulders instead.

A vein of hilarity spikes as you remember Steve’s last words before he went under: and here you were, fingers pulling at his dark roots, breaking his one request. When you start to giggle, Steve’s eyes pop open, baffled, hair sticking up at the ends when your fingers leave his hair. Both hands now squeezing at your hips, he feels left out of the joke- “What?”

“I just- nothing. Never mind. I’m really glad you’re okay.” It’s the truth. You frame his lovely face with your hands, kissing his forehead once before sitting up fully. “I don’t wanna fight about it here, okay? Let’s just focus on you feeling better, and then-”

“See, now, wait a minute-” Steve holds up a finger to interrupt. “You don’t get it. I’ve been hoping and praying for hours now that my pretty girlfriend would come in here just so we could have a good fight.”

He tweaks at the skin of your hips (with the IV-hand, so you can’t just smack it away, dammit), smiling up at you far too dreamily for someone reclining in a hospital bed.

Settling against the length of Steve’s torso, your arms cross over his stomach just under the tubing as you start, carefully- “You know, Max had one of these- when she was in the hospital?”

”Yeah, you’re right.” Steve’s hands worm their way under both your cardigan sleeves, seeking out the comfort of skin like a magnet- “Think it tracks heart rate. Or something.”

“Mm-hm. And… you know how she had to go to physical therapy three times a week? For, like, half the school year?”

Steve’s thumbs swipe absently at your wrists, a line pinched between his brows, trying to piece together your angle. “…yeah?”

“Takes a lot of time, to heal from something like that.” Your eyes drop to his chest, throat swelling with the effort of holding back a sob. “And I’m just- just thinking of all the times you might be alone, and how we could have prevented this, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey- shhh…” Steve soothes, shaking his head. “Honey, it was inevitable, okay? Nothing we could’a done. The doc told me this shit can happen, like, years after a big event. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Fighting against the wall of emotion that makes speaking harder, you return his head shake, desperate for understanding- “But you can’t promise that, baby. You had a seizure- an actual, medical emergency, and… we don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

With a purposeful straightening of your spine, you state, resolutely: “I want a different promise.”

Steve presses the crown of his head back into the pillows, melodramatic, resurfacing with a tsk. “So stubborn. What promise you want, then, huh?”

”I want you to promise that you’ll see a doctor- a real one. A head guy. Not some… family medicine quack.”

Steve grins, charming even while unusually pale- “I love it when you talk medical, really gets me going-”

He decides to bail on the rest of that sentence when he sees the flare of irritation on its way to real anger in your face, raising both hands in appeasement- “Okay. Hey- I promise to see a real head doc. I don’t intend on putting you through this again.”

WIth a sigh, you surge forward again, mumbling “Thank you” into Steve’s lips, a kiss of relief and gratitude. Best news you’ve heard all day.

His groans vibrate through you, hands running down the length of your side, near the bottom of your cardigan; you squeak at the intrusion of his cold palms on the bare skin of your waist but they warm quickly, and you’re willingly distracted as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips.

Perhaps not exactly hospital-appropriate, but as it’s been an evening full of adrenaline-filled panic and heartache, you figure some making out might be a good cure for the both of you.

“Won’t scare you like that again,” Steve says, lips already pink and spit-slick, intense and breathless as he clings to you between kisses- “Gonna be okay. You saved me, angel. Love you s’much…”

Your hand, previously resting on Steve’s knee, automatically slides up at his words, notching into the soft expanse of his inner thigh over the thin sheets- “Love you too, so much…”

A bright, electronic noise jolts into frantic beeping- the monitor that Steve’s hooked up to is loud enough to startle you into sitting up.

There’s no time to process or even rearrange yourselves before the nurse from earlier bustles into the room to glare at the machine’s screen; best you can do is a swipe across your mouth, hopefully hiding any evidence of moments-ago spit-swappage as you stammer out, “Um, yeah, sorry- h-he was trying to sit up and that set it off, I guess…?”

Steve lies placid and amenable against his pillows, giving the nurse a gold-medal grin, which unfortunately does nothing to allay her suspicions.

“Uh-huh.” The monitor alarm is stopped short with the press of a few buttons, and she gives Steve a sideways look, clipboard tucked under her arm- “You ready for your other visitors, Mr. Harrington, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Bring forth the party, Patricia.” Steve folds his hands behind his head, wincing when his IV gets bumped but covering it with a wink.

Nurse Patricia leaves. You cover your heated face, mortified- “Oh my god. She probably thought I was giving you a handjob or something, jesus, Steve-”

He’s outright laughing at you now, unable to help it- “Come on, no she didn’t. And even if she did…”

Steve is momentarily distracted, frowning down at his chest, following the monitor’s line to the machine; you watch through cracked fingers, his face lighting up, triumphant. “See, I bet if we unplug it from the wall same time as disconnecting it from here, we might be able to fit a handy under the radar, after all!”

Robin and Eddie enter the room just as you’re swatting Steve’s shoulder; over your subdued and mildly horrified laughter, he groans in faux-pain: “God, you two got here just in time. She’s beating me up for no reason.”

As Eddie settles into the plastic chair under the opposing wall’s window, you scooch down the mattress, patting the side closest to Steve with an encouraging smile at Robin.

She takes the seat, appreciative, her clammy hand slipping into yours for support as she addresses Steve: “Y’know, if you did this to get out of doing inventory this weekend, you could just say so.”

“You caught me, Robs,” Steve says, thumbing over her knuckles fondly. “Finally gonna join my conspiracy to make Keith’s life hell?”

You’re about to cut in, emphasizing that no one else should be making any hospital visits, when a metallic screech has the three of you on the bed whipping around.

Eddie’s managed to crack the barred window- judging by the sound, it hasn’t been opened since the 70s. He freezes with all the attention, then speaks around the cigarette clenched between his lips, suave again- “Pardon the interruption. Anyone else care for a smoke?”

Everyone in the room blinks at him, in various stages of disbelief; Steve starts laughing, first, which gets Robin going, and eventually you, too, until Eddie’s grinning around the cigarette, lighter halfway to his mouth as he chuckles- “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer…”

Robin makes a comment about nicotine fumes, which quickly devolves into her and Eddie fiercely bickering.

The elevated chatter of your friends fades into the background as Steve takes your hand atop the sheets, head tilted to get you in his line of sight again- love you, he mouths.

Love you, too.

[brooooswriting]

24 and 1

We bring a muddy puppy home and Nat is not impressed (when she finds out)

1. “I’m not stupid, who is s/he?

24. “I’m overreacting?!”

You should have known that this wasn’t gonna work. Nat is an assassin and a super spy, so you, a normal person, trying to hide something from her is very very dumb.

“Hello my love. I’m home” the redhead called out once she entered your shared apartment. As she started to pull of her jacket you came out of the bedroom in a hectic that already made her suspicious.

“Nat, babe. You’re home early” you stumbled over your words as you triple checked that the bedroom door was closed. This gave your girlfriend the time to study you, you were wearing something different than this morning, a shirt you didn’t really like, you were out of breath, sweating slightly, you were avoiding eye contact and you fiddled with your hands.

“Oh well, the mission was easier than we thought. But I could really use a shower” she tried to stay as calm and normal as possible as she made her way towards the bedroom which was connected to the bathroom.

“No, wait. Why don’t you eat something first? I’ll make sure that a bath is ready for you once you finished eating” you tried and took a step back so you stood in front of the door.

“Sure, but I wanna get changed first” she tried again, her hand going towards the door handle making you panic and carefully slap it away.

“No, you can’t. You… you look good in these clothes” you’d have loved the face palm yourself in that minute. This was the most stupid thing you could have done.

Suddenly Natasha recoiled back, a look full of horror, sadness and disgust on her face. “Who’s in there?” She asked with a stone cold tone, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“There’s nobody in there natty” you batted your eyelashes and gave her an innocent smile which led you nowhere.

“I’m not stupid. Who is she?” Her voice got louder making you flinch as you looked on the ground.

“Nat, I promise there’s nobody in there”

“Then let me in”

“I can’t”

“Then I can’t believe you. So tell me, who the fuck is in our bedroom?!” She grew angrier by the minute and she looked like she could start throwing stuff around any minute.

“You’re overreacting my love” you tried with a soft voice only to realize seconds after that the words you chose were stupid.

“I’m overreacting? You’re fucking somebody in our bedroom and I’m the one who’s overreacting?” Her voice broke making you gasp.

“Fuck, darling, I promise I’m not fucking anybody. Come here” you carefully pulled her hand towards the bedroom. The moment you opened the door she gasped.

“What the…” the whole room was covered in mud and a small dog sat in the middle of the room. He happily jumped up and walked towards your girlfriend where he happily leaned against her leg covering her trouser in mud too.

“This is why I didn’t want you in here, I wanted to clean everything up before I introduce him to you. This is jack, he’s approximately three months” you told her as you leaned down to let the dogs head.

“No” was the only response you got. You quickly stood back up, but this time with the dog in your arms. “Come on, look at him. I found him at the side of the highway from my way back from work, somebody left him there. Look at his big brown eyes and at that cute nose” you tried to convince her.

“No and that’s final. Tomorrow morning we are giving him away” you sighed and kissed the dogs head before carrying him towards the bathroom, you still had to wash him. “What you’re not gonna argue?” She asked as she followed you, confused by your silence.

“No, if you wanna give him away I at least wanna give him on day where he’s loved and appreciated. So if you could go now, there’s food for you in the fridge. You can shower as soon as I washed him” with a defeated sigh Natasha left the bathroom.

You had to hold back the tears as you checked the temperature before setting the dog in the bath. Even if you had only been with him for like 4 hours you really liked him and wanted to keep him.

You didn’t notice your girlfriend reentering the bathroom moments later. She watched as you giggled when the dog licked your nose and how lovely you were to the small creature. Plus you looked really cute with a puppy. So she sat down behind you on the cold tiles of the bathroom and hugged your waist. “Maybe we can keep him, if you really want to” she whispered into your ear and pressed a loving kiss to your cheek as one of her hand left your waist to scratch the puppy behind his ear.

“Really? Thank you thank you thank you” you mumbled over and over again as you kissed her.

Later that night Nat laid in bed with you nearly on top of her, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other arm wrapped around the dog who laid on her other side. A lovesick smile on her face.

“We are so keeping that dog” you grinned as you pressed a kiss to her lips before giving the dog a gentle pet on the head as a good night.

“I love you” the redhead mumbled making a smile form on your lips.

“I love you too”

“I was actually talking you jack” she replied biting her tongue to stop her laugh.

“I hate you”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to hang out with my boyfriend’s best friend?

My [33F] boyfriend’s [30M] (we’ll call him R) best friend (30s M) (call him D) is chronically late but also never communicates anything. I have ADHD and like I get it. I have all the patience in the world for people who are late if they communicate they will be late. But D will never communicate anything, ever.

R and D have a standing game night on Fridays where they go for dinner and play board games. D “normally” comes between 4-5pm. He picks up his kids from school at 3:30, drops them home with his partner and then drives over. It is a 30 minute drive. But in the past, both on regular Friday meetings, and for other meetups, he has been significantly late (3 hours, once!) without saying a word all day.

R wants me to join them on Friday evenings. I don’t have a traditional ‘job’ but I am a crafter with many things to do and also, as mentioned, I have ADHD. Part of that means I really need a specific time to go and do something otherwise I will just be stuck in like “wait mode” all day unable to do anything because I don’t know when I need to stop doing it. The first time I went out with R & D I did lose the whole day (no work done) because we could get no actual information from D on when he was coming, and he ended up not arriving until after 5pm.

I told D I didn’t appreciate not being able to properly plan my day, and that providing a heads up about these things is generally considered polite. I also made it clear afterwards to R that if D continued to not communicate anything and just “turn up whenever, at some point after 4, maybe” then I would not be joining them on board game nights. 

Today I once again only had “4-5ish, I guess” but by 4:30 not only was D not here but R had heard nothing from him, and suspected he had not even left. I told R I was not coming, I had already mostly lost the day - having stopped work several hours before - but I would at least be reclaiming the evening.

At 5:15 R called me to say that D had been arranging to have his partner come, and had been sorting out childcare (in the form of D’s mum). He at no point earlier in the day had said anything about this to R. In fact they hadn’t spoken at all. D then told R they would be leaving at around 5:45, so wouldn’t be here until at least 6:15.

I reiterated that I would not be coming. It was a boundary I set before and was very clear about, and was now enforcing it. D could have said much earlier that he was planning on inviting his partner, would have to arrange childcare, and would likely be later than usual. He chose not to do that, so I am choosing to not go.

R then got upset with me and said he would not be coming over to spend the night at my place the following evening (we have a normal routine on who stays where which days, and he knows unexpectedly changing that without any discussion at all will also mess with my ability to do things. The routine is important to me) because I was being unfair. 

I told him, again, it’s a firm boundary for me. People who won’t communicate anything at all when you have plans (even loose ones) aren’t respecting other people’s time. Even if that’s not the intention it’s still just… rude to the other person. Other people still have lives when you’re not there, and expecting everyone else to just be ready for “whenever” you feel like showing up without a word is not ok. Again, if it happens only once in a while because Shit Happens that’s different. But if it’s every time, with everyone, forever, then really you’re just a bit inconsiderate.

R says he doesn’t feel that way because he doesn’t have anything going on so it doesn’t bother him, so he isn’t upset with D (even though I have things on, so it does impact and bother me, his partner) but he is upset with me because I am “making him feel bad”. D’s complete lack of communication and lateness is not the problem, the fact I am annoyed about it and choosing to stay home is the problem. I said it is not fair to blame me for this turn of events when (unlike D) I was VERY clear beforehand that I wouldn’t be going if this happened, and that if nothing else he should still be at least a little annoyed with D for not respecting my time after I’d already spoken to him about it.

Instead of actually sitting D down and properly telling him “look I don’t have things to do but L does and it does bother her when you don’t communicate anything so it is messing with her work when you do this and that is not ok”, R then said he just won’t invite me to anything ever again. So I can’t be upset if he’s late.

AITA for refusing to go to board game night?

What are these acronyms?

[sturniololoco]

Could u do a Colby Brock x sturnilio triplets sister? Like shes a part of the triplets channel and goes with them to Collab with Sam and Colby

Are you Scared?

Colby Brock x Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS)

Warnings: Kissing, ghosts, random shit, etc.

Note: Kinda set from the collab but some event r out of order, might do a part two, let me know

SLS's POV

Today was the day I've been looking forward to for months:

My triplet brothers and I are going to film with Sam and Colby!

I've been "stalking" their account since we got the invite, and I must admit, their channel is pretty cool, not to mention Colby, who just so happens to be very good-looking.

I got ready, wearing a pair of black cargo pants with a cropped baby tee for the occasion. I put my hair into an elegant slicked-back bun, making sure everything was perfect.

"Hurry up SLS/N! I gotta pee!" Yelled Chris's sleepy voice from outside of our hotel bathroom.

rolling my eyes, I unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, lightly punching his arm in the process.

"Okay, cutie! I see you!" Nick said as I walked out of the bathroom and sat next to him on the bed as he put his shoes on.

I smiled at him, grabbing my airforces to slide on as we waited for Matt and Chris to get ready.

-

"Alright! Who's ready to get gohstified?"Nick asked once were driving to the haunted hotel.

I laughed at his choice of words while Chris and Matt cheered from the front seat.

Leaning over, I snapped a quick selfie with Nick, mentally reminding myself to post it to my Instagram when the collab was posted.

As we pulled up to the hotel, I could tell that people thought it was haunted. The place just screamed old, scary, and ghost-filled.

I felt nervous butterflies erupt in my stomach as we walked through the threshold of the hotel's front door.

"Hey, guys!" I heard a voice say.

I could tell it was Sam's since we've watched about 30+ hours of their channel in the past week.

We smiled as we walked over to them, my brothers dabbing him up as I gave him a polite side hug. He told us to follow him so we could go find Colby.

But when he said his name, I got butterflies again, but I don't think they were scary ones.

Weird.

-

"What's up, you guys!" Colby said as we met him in the main lobby sitting area.

And I was right, he was very good-looking, even more so in person.

My brothers performed the same actions as they did with Sam, dabbing him up casually, and talking with them about how excited they were.

But I felt my face get hot as I wrapped my arm around Colby's midsection for a side hug. And the height difference was so extreme that he had to lean down to wrap his long, muscular arm around my shoulders.

as I walked back to stand next to Nick, I looked back at him to see him looking at me, with a slight smile on his lips.

My face was officially as red as a tomato.

-

Colby's POV

I knew the triplets had a little sister, but I had no idea that they had a little sister who was hot as fuck and had a great sense of style.

She was so perfect in every way, from her slicked-back hair to the shoelaces on her airforces.

She gave me a side hug in greeting and I had to lean down to wrap my arm around her perfect shoulders.

I was kind of upset as she let go to stand with her brothers, but she looked at me on her way there, her cheeks perfectly pink with a small smile playing on her lips.

She might not of been able to see it from the outside, but on the inside I was smiling like an idiot.

-

We started with a tour from the nice lady who worked at the front desk. She did a very good job interacting with the camera, as well as flirting with Chris.

That left me enough time to stand behind the camera, which just so happened to be where SLS/N was standing.

From "stalking" the triplet's YouTube channel, I could tell she was a little camera shy, hence why she didn't appear in a whole bunch of their videos.

But all the same, she came. She's now walking behind Sam who had the camera on the tour guide and her brothers.

Halfway through, she stopped to look at a painting, letting the others walk a little ahead of her. I stopped too, and decided to take my chances.

"You like this one?" I asked her, hands behind my back while I stood next to her, admiring her as she admired the picture.

She turned her head, looking a little startled as her cheeks started to turn pink.

Fucking adorable.

"oh-I, uh... guess it just caught my eye." She said, adding a cute little giggle to the end of her excuse.

I couldn't help but smile at her, just her presence alone was enough to make my chest flutter.

we began walking side by side as we caught up with the others.

"Are you having fun so far?" I asked her, trying to make the silence less awkward.

"Oh my gosh, yes! when I heard I got so excited!" She said, turning her body slightly to look at me.

I smiled at her again, happy that she was happy to be here.

-

SLS/N's POV

I was honestly so happy that Colby stopped to talk with me. He must have noticed that I shied away from the YouTube videos and came to talk with me.

We caught up with the others as the tour guide left, right beside a picture of a little girl with faded, green skin.

sam explained that we were all going to put candy on the frame as Colby got out a bag of candy from their backpack.

Everyone grabbed one as he held the bag open, then set them on the frame.

I was last, reaching to grab a strawberry-looking candy from the bag As I pulled my hand out, I brushed his, earning another red face from me.

I looked up at him with nervous eyes, but he looked down at me, giving me a smile while whispering,

"You're okay. Go put your candy up there."

I instantly obeyed, following his orders as he put his candy next to mine.

"oh my gosh! This is a great picture for the photo dump SLS/N! Get together with Colby real quick!" Nick said, whipping out his phone.

Colby and I looked at each other stunned for a moment before wrapping our arms around each other in a side hug, leaning into each other to pose for the camera.

I could feel the muscles in his torso and back as we smiled, making my heart flutter and my face turn pink,

again.

-

Colby's POV

I felt bad putting my hand on SLS/N's bare torso for the picture, but her arm around my back caused the baby tee she was wearing to slide up, exposing a little bit of her perfect frame.

Her cheeks turned pink once again as we pulled apart, smiling at each other.

Once we were done, Sam began explaining the elevator game.

-

Once Matt and Sam began their journey up, Nick, Chris, SLS/N, and I were supposed to start our own challenge, but then SLS/N spoke.

"Is there a bathroom in this place?" She said, looking around slightly.

"yea, there's one down the hall, I'll show you if you want," I said, mentally cursing myself, knowing we had a job to do.

She gave me a small smile as she followed me down the hall and back to the main sitting area of the lobby.

"it's right in there, just walk to the right," I said, pointing to the women's side of the bathroom.

"By myself?!" She asked, fiddling with her fingers slightly.

"I laughed under my breath.

"Well, seeing as I'm a guy, I can't really go with you, now can I?" I said to her, feeling the goofy smile spread across my face.

"I uh don't really have to pee anymore actually, you can go through." She said leaning against the wall, trying to look casual.

It didn't work. She looked completely terrified of going into the bathroom alone. She was still picking at her nails and her face had gone bright red.

But now I decided to use this to my advantage.

-

SLS/N's POV

Colby walked over to me and rested his forearm on the wall above my head. I could smell his musky, warm scent as he leaned in closer.

"Are you scared?" He whispered, his hot breath fanning over my face.

A smirk was playing over his perfect lips, knowing exactly what I wanted him to do next.

I nervously shook my head yes at his question, not knowing what else to do as my face burned hotter than the sun.

At this point, he was smiling lustfully at me, only leaning in closer.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." He said in his husky voice, finally leaning in and closing the gaps between our mouths.

The kiss was soft and sweet. Warm and protecting. Our mouths moved in sink with each other and his hands grabbed my sides, no longer hesitant to touch my bear skin.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead on mine. Just as it looked like he was about to say something, he quickly pulled away and sped down the hallway.

I stood there, shocked, but then regained my surroundings and chased after him.

Just as I was about to say something, we rounded the corner to see my brothers, Sam and Matt back from their trip, and the camera pointed at us.

the red light on,

recording.

Lemme know if you want a part two!!!???

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

[shygirl4991]

FIRST PRIZE WINNER

Your not the bad guy

First prize reward for @retardedpsyche Art done by @b-r-i-n-g-x the other places prizes

Tags: Angst, Comfort, fluff, nightmares

It was late into the night, the crew were all in their beds resting and having sweet dreams. Everyone except one meme guardian, SMG4 tosses and turns as the voice of Mr. Puzzle echoes through his head “And SMG4! Who knew you could play an antagonist so well, high marks from me!” He turns away from the voice to see the castle again, seeing the eldritch horrors cover the place he once knew as home made him feel sick.  He walks through the halls to hear those voices again “You will never be good enough,” he covers his ears as he keeps walking the hall.

“Nobody likes your videos!” “You are a failure!” “YOU'RE NOT ENOUGH!” SMG4 could hear each voice slip through the cracks as he ran faster through the castle; he needed the voices to stop to leave him alone. He charges into a room and slams the door shut, it was quiet, he was able to think again. That's when he heard frantic typing, a chill went down his spine as his eyes adjusted to the dark room. There he saw himself, the strange pink stains all over him, the light gone from his eyes. Nothing but a machine, working nonstop to be perfect.  He heard screams making him turn, his eyes going wide seeing a pool of black liquid start taking his friends. 

He runs to them attempting to pull them out, one by one his friends vanish into the strange pool “No…NO I CAN SAVE YOU GUYS!”  he grabs Three and pulls. SMG3 lets out a dark chuckle “So this is it huh…i really thought we were friends now,” Four’s eyes water as he keeps pulling only to see his partner sink into the pool. “Please…no..” he falls to the floor as SMG3 vanishes, he looks at his hand shaking, his thoughts running a mile per minute. He then hears clapping, breathing heavily, he looks up to see Mr. Puzzles.  “My my SMG4, no matter what you do you still are the villain. Do you really think your friends trust you after this, you and I should really get into television together!” SMG4 felt his anxiety slowly being replaced with anger, clenching his fist he gets up ready to fight the television. Only to pause seeing the man holding SMG3, the screen shows a smug expression “Give it up Four, look back at your show and it's clear as day you're the bad guy!” he then tosses three on the floor “And SMG3 was your victim for years.” Four shakes his head taking a step back, he couldn't be the villain.  The room goes dark, only the light of the TV shining through as it shows moments of SMG4 acting cold and uncaring towards his friends. Four closes his eyes “STOP!” he jumps out of bed stretching out to air, he shakes looking around his familiar room. 

He wipes the sweat from his forehead, takes a deep breath before he starts to walk. The nightmare brought back all the guilt he had shoved away, he hated how he hurt his friends. He couldn't look at himself for weeks after the whole thing, everyone but one person gave him space after the events. Sure, Mario did his best to keep the guardians spirit up with memes and silly adventures. But no one understood him better than his other half, his old rival of many years. SMG4 slowly walked to the front of the castle, with a deep breath he stepped outside. After fighting Mr Puzzle the two agree they needed ways to reach each other in case of emergencies, together with SMG1 and two created meme doors. The doors were hidden in different locations and could only be activated with meme energy, Four never thought he would be so thankful to have those doors. Since he didn't have a spare key to Three’s cafe he went to the back of the building to connect with the secret door.

With shaky hands he uses his meme powers to unlock a hidden door, he looks around as he walks in to make sure no one else tries to sneak in.  Making sure everything was sealed he walked around the cafe, his dark thoughts were starting to slip in. What if the man didn't want to help him? He looks back at the hidden door contemplating if he should leave, only to pause mid step hearing the sounds of an elevator. He turns and there with messy hair and in pajamas was the man he was looking for, Four gave a shy wave as he fixed up his own pajamas. Normally the man would give an annoyed look and start insulting him , much to Four's surprise the other guardian expressions soften. He walks over to the coffee machine “You look like shit,”  Four rolls his eyes walking closer to his partner “Gee thanks, make mine strong if you could.” 

Three lets out a hum as he lets the machine do its magic, they stand there listening to the hum of the machine as it pours out their drinks. Once done Three adds the final touches before handing Four his cup, with a small nod they both walk over to one of the tables. Four looks down at his cup slowly tracing the rim of it before picking it up, Three frowns as he watches Four drink his coffee “Not like you to come over at three am.” Four sips his drink hoping the warm drink would help, holding the cup he looks at Three “Ah well never hurts to get some late night coffee!” Three gave him an unamused look as he pushed his cup aside “You didn't come here cause you thought i would fall for a stupid line like that did you?” Four sighs again as he stares at his drink “Three…do you think i'm evil?” Three’s blinks surprised at the question “No, you're a pain in my ass for many reasons but you're not evil.” Three frowns and gently reaches out to the man “What brought this up?” Four bits on his lip remembering his dream,  he is selfish and tends to go overboard with his content. He looks at the hand reaching out to him, a flash of his dream hits him. How the man in front of him was swallowed up by the black pool, how he couldn't pull him back to safety. Anxiety hit him as he pulled his arms away from three, he then crossed his arms looking out the window.  “Our battle with Mr. Puzzle just brought some memories back is all,” he sighs getting up ready to leave. 

Seeing Four ready to leave, SMG3 gets up and grabs his arm “Four, what happened at peach's castle isn't your fault,” Four pulls his arm to free himself. Three watches concern as the man in front of him shakes “Not my fault? I wanted to make the perfect video. I clicked his ad for the keyboard. I ALMOST KILLED YOU ALL!” Four felt himself shake more as he hugs himself, holding back his tears he whispers “I’m…a villain just like he said.” 

Without saying anything Three gently touches Four, the comforting touch was enough for the meme guardian to collapse into Three’s arms crying “I’M A VILLAIN!” Three holds Four close, letting the man finish before speaking. He pets Four’s head “Four i have known you for years, trust me when i say your not a villain. We all have our moments of weakness and that's okay, but hear me when I say you're the kindest man I know.”  Four cries hard into Three’s shoulder, they stay in this position for a while. Three wasn't sure how much time passed since the man broke down crying, all he did know was at this moment Four needed all the comfort possible. “Hey four, want to stay overnight?” 

Four sniffs pulling away looking at Three’s face surprised “I…really?” Three nods giving the man a soft smile as he wipes his tears away. Four hugs Three letting out a breathy laugh, with a small pat of the back the pair get up and head down the elevator. Once in Three’s room the pair walk towards the bed, Four lets out another giggle “To think in the past just sharing body heat was the end of the world for you, are you gay for me or something three?” SMG3 rolled his eyes and gently smacked his ex rival “Haha I see you want to go back to your castle.” SMG4 pouts at the comment as he watches Three get in the bed, with a pat Four climbs next the man. It was strange being such good friends with someone that attempted to kill you in the past, even stranger when you cuddled up to him for comfort. Three hums to help Four relax, as he starts to drift to sleep he makes sure to whisper “Thank you for saving me Three.”