#skate gif Sunday

[thegoodmorningman]

Call me an "EXTREMIST" but I'm wiling to do anything for a Good Morning!!!

[sandreeen]

One Piece on Ice Cast Interviews 🎙️ Part 1

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 2

[chap one] | [all chapters here] | [chap three]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Oooh I'm excited for this chapter! Would love to hear what everyone thinks about Eddie's characterization! And, after editing this chapter about half a dozen times, I feel like I'm still just not quite conveying the motivations of the character well, so let me know if her thoughts/feelings could be more clear!

taglist: @daisyridleyss @munsonssweets @marrowfrog00 @lotrefcp @rach5ive

wc: 4.0k

Chapter Two

Getting away on Sunday afternoon to meet Eddie was easy. You’d celebrated your birthday on Saturday, with your friends dragging you along on plans that they put together weeks in advance before you returned home for a far too formal dinner with your parents. You probably could have - and should have - been more excited considering that you were toasting your legal adulthood, but if anything, it just stirred even more desire for change and rebellion in you. What good was being a legal adult if you were still trapped in high school, if you were still just following the status quo?

You told your parents as you were leaving the house that afternoon that you were going to the ice rink - your dad grunted in acknowledgement, too caught up in his reading to really hear you, and your mom commended you for how dedicated you were to skating. To both responses, you rolled your eyes, leaving without saying goodbye.

You knew exactly which picnic table Eddie referred to in his note, as you weren’t the first person to meet him there for a drug deal, nor would you be the last. It was a well-known spot for students to meet with the metalhead - although it seemed like no one actually talked about it, probably because they themselves didn’t want to admit to any interaction with him, somehow everyone knew exactly where Eddie made his deals.

There were trails running through a lot of the forest that made it easy to find your destination; you left your car on a neighborhood street not far from the school, and trekked your way into the woods. It was still pretty in late September - leaves weren’t falling to the ground quite yet, and the sounds of wildlife could still be heard up in the trees and low on the ground. Not that you were one to appreciate nature much at all. But it was hard not to at least notice it as you walked quietly along the trail, going over exactly how you might propose this crazy idea of yours while trying your best not to trip over rocks or step in mud puddles.

When you arrived at the picnic area, Eddie was nowhere to be found, which was actually a relief to you. It gave you more time to think, to calm down and find the best means of conveying this idea to him. You felt stupid, having this strange and foreign anxiety in your chest, but it couldn’t be helped. Best you could do was relax and put on a cool face whenever the delinquent did finally show up.

You were about to sit at the picnic table, but quickly decided against it once you took a closer look at the rotting wood - it was disgusting and dirty, and you weren’t going to risk ruining one of your favorite skirts or catching some nasty disease. So, instead, you paced, keeping your mind busy as you waited, taking in your surroundings with an air of boredom as the hour hit 4 and you were still here alone. Eddie better show, or you weren’t going to be happy.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps crunching on twigs and brush caused you to look around, not quite sure which direction the sound was coming from at first. But it didn’t take long for you to spot Eddie hiking his way to you, surprised amusement on his face as he approached. He cocked his head, lips tugged back in a grin, as your heart skipped nervously; god, you felt so stupid being edgy like this, it was so unwarranted.

“Well, well…” He drawled, crossing his arms as he walked closer to you, “I’ve seen a lot, but the ice princess wants something from me? Now I really have seen everything.”

The way he said “ice princess” was jarring, almost as if it was both an insult and an inarguable fact. Yes, you’d heard people call you that before, but never with the gusto that Eddie Munson added to it - you briefly wondered if the nickname was more common than you originally thought, and then you wondered who it was that first came up with it. Was it Eddie? No, if anything it was probably someone in your own circle that started that stupid nickname, maybe even Duncan - you didn’t think Eddie cared enough to come up with a nickname for some popular kid who he’d never even spoken to before.

It’s as if his use of the derogatory nickname immediately reminded you that there was no reason to be nervous, because you could feel your usually cool demeanor coming back to you.

“Don’t cream your pants, Munson.” You replied bluntly, crossing your arms as if to mimic Eddie’s posture. His brows went up in surprise - it briefly crossed your mind that he might not have known what your voice sounded like, let alone how you talked. Well, now he knew.

Eddie tilted his head down slightly as if speaking to you conspiratorially, “I wasn’t expecting a chick like you to be so vulgar.”

You rolled your eyes. Okay, maybe this discussion would be more challenging than you had anticipated. Having never actually interacted with Eddie before today, you couldn’t have predicted what your dynamic together would be. From what you could tell after only this one minute of interacting, your personalities were bound to clash, making your impossible plan all the more impossible.

“I guess I���m full of surprises.” You replied plainly, your tone disinterested. Without thinking, you leaned your rear on the picnic table, but quickly jumped away when you remembered how dirty it was, an affronted sound escaping your lips. As you tried to wipe dirt from your ass, Eddie chuckled. To that, you shot him a cold glare.

“Alright, what are you looking for, princess?” Eddie asked while sitting on the filthy bench - that felt intentional, as if he was mocking your disgust at the grime and muck on the table, “Ask and you shall receive.”

You raised a critical brow at his theatrical tone, at the way he said ‘princess,’ at his entire demeanor. Yup, this was going to be impossible. You were certain that your judgmental expression was clear as day, because you could see the cogs turning behind Eddie’s eyes, how he was analyzing you just as much as you were him.

You stared at him with your arms crossed, your hip jutting out to the side as you briefly considered him, considered what you wanted to ask of him. You made a bit of a harsh face as you responded, “That’s a bold claim, considering that you don’t know what I’m going to ask.”

You met Eddie’s dark eyes as if to make a point, his brow furrowing in curious response. His gaze was mocking as he held your stare, “You think anything you ask for will shock me? Snobby rich kids always want the same stuff.”

“‘Snobby?’” You nearly snapped, glaring smally in offense. To that, Eddie pointed his hand at the empty bench across from him, a defiant look on his face.

“Take a seat then.” He challenged, the corner of his mouth curling up. You make another grossed out face, to which he gives a half-hearted shrug, giving him all the confirmation that he needed, “That’s what I thought.”

You scoffed, turning your back while grumbling, “God, I knew this was a stupid idea…”

You started to walk off in annoyance, trying your best not to trip over rocks or sticks in your haste, but only made it a few steps before Eddie called after you, “Wait, wait, come back…”

You spun back around, but remained planted where you stood, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms as if prompting him to continue, to grovel and earn your trust.

“I’m just joking,” Eddie raised his hands in a lazy surender, his face growing surprisingly sincere after a moment, although that sincerity was also laced with a hint of judgment, “What are you gonna ask for, then?”

He’s patient, watching you as you deliberate what to do. Was it worth it? Did you really need Eddie to make this plan work? Should you call this off while you still had the chance?

No. This plan was stupid as all hell, but you were going to do it. With a determined little stomp of your foot - Eddie smirking in amusement at the mildly childish action - you approached the picnic table, bracing your hands against it as you tried to ignore the feeling of dirt getting under your nails.

“If you laugh at me, I’ll ruin you.” You threatened while meeting his eyes. Again, Eddie grinned, but he otherwise kept his mouth shut, which seemed to be his way of agreeing to your terms, “I don’t need drugs, I need a favor. It’s gonna sound… honestly ridiculous.”

“Okay…” Eddie leaned forward so that your faces were only a foot apart; his expression was one of neutral attentiveness, however, you could see the sparkle of intrigue in his eyes. You don’t pull back from the close proximity he created, studying one another’s faces; it felt strange to be observed by him so closely, as Eddie had a way of scrutinizing you that felt different from those you knew, different from the way people normally looked at you. You tried to find the best way of proposing your dumb idea, but nothing would make your request sound less crazy than it already is.

Finally, you gave up with a sigh and just blurted it out, “I need you to date me.”

Despite your earlier threat, an unexpected bark of a laugh jumped out of Eddie’s mouth. He raised his fist in front of his lips and pretended to cough, as if that would do anything to hide his very clear amusement. Your eyes widened in intense warning. To his credit, Eddie composed himself quickly, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, although you could still see a little twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Can you repeat that for me?” He prompts, fighting off his laughter and confusion.

Again, you roll your eyes - god, you were going to be doing that a lot with this guy, weren’t you? You were already getting tired of it.

“I don’t want to actually date you,” You said as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world, “Just pretend. You know, like one of your dumb games.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened a little at the insult, but instead of retaliating he simply pulled back, putting a bit of distance between you. He looks you up and down in consideration, his mind racing to understand your unexpected request.

“Care to elaborate?” He questioned, his tone mildly critical.

You purse your lips in annoyance as you consider where to start, eyeing Eddie closely - how the hell did you explain to someone that you wanted them to be your fake boyfriend? You sighed, pulling back from the table, starting to walk in a slow circle around it. The motion was vaguely like skating around a rink, so in an odd way it helped you think.

“I hate literally everything about my life,” You paused, half expecting Eddie to mock your pathetic woes, but he remained silent, “It’s my senior year and I’m only now realizing that nothing in my life is up to me, that I don’t have any control over anything - everything is decided by someone else. And I’m fucking tired of it.”

You could see mild surprise on Eddie’s face, and you wondered if it was because of your foul language - it always seemed to surprise people to hear the way you could talk considering how nice and well-behaved you appeared, although you’d always been anything but.

You continued, “I want to do something stupid, something that’ll piss off my parents, that’ll get everyone to stop treating me like some untouchable, perfect princess.” You chose the word deliberately, looking Eddie dead in the eye, “And what stupider than to date Eddie freaking Munson?”

Now, it was Eddie’s turn to look somewhat offended, “Gee, thanks.”

Maybe it wasn’t the most effective tactic to keep insulting the man you were trying to bribe, but you just couldn’t seem to help yourself. You didn’t exactly know how to be nice to anyone. Eddie’s eyes considered you for a moment before something of a mean look flickered across his face.

“This has something to do with that boyfriend of yours, doesn’t it? What, you break up or something?” And then an almost mirthful realization flashed across his eyes, obviously seeing some change in your demeanor that you didn’t intend for him to notice, “Ooh, I get it. He broke up with you, didn’t he? You trying to win him back?”

You brace yourself against the table again as you glare at him, but otherwise you maintain your composure, your tone condescending and mean as you reply, “I do not want him back. He could drive off a bridge for all I care. I want to get under his skin. I want to get under everyone’s skin.”

You could tell that Eddie didn’t get it - he still didn’t understand why you needed his help in this ridiculous plan of yours, and he didn’t understand why you were feeling the way you did. With a sigh, you try to calm down and unclench your tight jaw.

“Look, Munson,” You caved in and stiffly took a seat on the opposite bench as if to bolster your argument, to make him take you a little more seriously, “I know it sounds crazy, but I just know nothing else will work.”

“And how do you know that?” He urged - you couldn’t tell if he thought you were an idiot or if he was actually interested in hearing you out.

You stared at Eddie for a long moment, trying to find the easiest way to make him understand. He stared back, again showing far more patience than you would have expected from him, especially with the likes of you. As you study his face in thought, you finally sigh, shaking your head as you look away with a vague annoyance set on your features.

“I don’t actually know, okay?” You start, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye for a few moments, “What I want is complete and utter… social suicide. To just stop worrying about my reputation or what people think. I’m sick and tired of expectations and status quos and doing what I’m told or what people expect. I want to piss everyone off. I want to piss Duncan off. I just… it feels like I need to change, you know?”

“Nope, I have no idea what you mean.” Eddie says plainly, and as you glare at him, you realize he’s joking once he finally cracks a smile. His eyes are surprisingly kind as he leans forward on his elbows, parroting your words, “When have I ever subscribed to expectations and status quos and doing what I’m told?”

At that rhetorical response, your face relaxed for the first time this entire conversation. Hell, you even felt a mild excitement wash over you as you consider what his words were implying, “So… you’ll do it?”

Eddie makes a face as if he’s still mulling over the idea, still trying to figure out what exactly your motivations were, “I mean, you’re bratty and rude and this plan is kind of stupid, but I might do it.”

“Might?” You ask, trying not to sound too pushy or annoyed by his casual insults. If this was going to happen, you both had to learn to stop prodding at each other like this, learn to stop picking on each other just because you could. That might prove to be the most challenging part of all of this, though.

Eddie smirks, rising back to his feet as he contemplates, “What do I get out of this? And don’t say money - that’ll make me feel like a prostitute.”

As you pulled a face, Eddie grinned at his own comment, obviously finding that idea amusing in some way. And like a teenage mimicry of a business person, you sat up straighter, looking at him plainly as you presented your offer, “No, but I do have one idea. But if you think of something better…?”

Eddie nods in confirmation, urging you to continue.

“Well, my uncle’s a cop--”

At that, Eddie chuckles abruptly while cutting you off, “Oh, trust me, I know exactly who your uncle is.”

Aside from shooting him a small look, you continue as if he hadn’t said anything, focused on getting this plan hatched, “I think I can help you. You can’t get in trouble with them anymore if I’m the one taking the fall.”

Eddie’s brows rose in surprise at your words, his arms crossing as he studied you, “What, you think your pretty little ass can handle a night in lock up?”

“No, genius,” You roll your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, “If it falls on me, there will be no jail, no arrest, nothing. The minute I tell someone who my uncle is, they won’t even think about putting a hand on me, that would be stupid. I’m effectively untouchable.”

Eddie nods, rubbing his chin, “But doesn’t that go out the window if you commit… What did you call it? ‘Social suicide?’”

You shrug, “Maybe. Maybe not. But I can probably keep them off your ass for the rest of the school year so long as you don’t do something too stupid.”

“You want to date me until graduation?” Eddie makes a dramatic show of placing his hand to his chest as if he’s flattered.

“Jesus…” You mutter to yourself with a sigh, “We’ll see where it goes.”

Eddie, again, nodded while humming in consideration. You sat quietly, waiting for him to add something to the conversation. You could tell that he was drawing it out, though, milking the moment just for the hell of it, to put you on edge. Suddenly, he slaps his hand down firmly on the table, causing you to jump in your seat.

“We have a deal.” His eyes glint as he smirks at you, “We play happy little couple, we destroy your reputation, piss off all your friends, and you keep me out of trouble. What could possibly go wrong?”

It suddenly felt like he jinxed everything by saying that, ruined it before you could even begin, but you ignored that feeling as you gave him a slight smile, actually pleased with how the conversation had gone. Of course, there was still that strange sense of disbelief at the entire situation - it was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever thought of or done, but that also made it kind of exhilarating in its odd way.

Eddie walked around the table, leisurely sliding onto the bench beside you, intentionally leaning over to bump your shoulder playfully. It was unexpected, causing you to make a slight face at him, but that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Look, princess, you gotta start being nicer to me if you want to convince anyone that we’re a couple.” Although his tone was teasing, you knew what Eddie said was true. Even you, known for your bitchiness, couldn’t be too mean to the man that you were supposedly dating, especially if you wanted to get under Duncan’s skin - the nicer you were to Eddie, the more it would annoy Duncan that you were never that nice to him.

“Fine.” You say plainly, looking him in the eye, “If that’s the case, no more ‘princess.’”

Eddie made a teasing face, “Then what do I call you? It would look strange if your boyfriend didn’t have any pet names for you, right?”

You sighed, but he did make a good point - it made you realize that you needed to lay out some ground rules for this whole fake dating thing, something that you hadn’t accounted for during your planning stage.

“When we’re around other people, just call me something nice. I don’t care what it is.”

Eddie’s playful expression was still in place, “Oh, you’ll regret that…”

You rolled your eyes, and yet this time the corner of your mouth pulled up into an amused grin despite yourself, “Just be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you. Can’t be too hard, right? And don’t touch me unless it’s in front of people.”

You looked him up and down critically with that comment. It's not that you were worried about him being gross or anything like that, you just hated people touching you unnecessarily.

“Any other commands, my liege?”

“What, you want me to write this down for you or something?”

Eddie pretended to consider the idea, “If only I knew how to read, princess.”

You made a face, knowing that Eddie kept calling you that dumb nickname quite intentionally, that he kept testing you with deliberate aim. Trying to resist rising to the tempting bait, you continued explaining the dos and don’ts of fake dating. 

“Okay,” You started, raising your pointer finger. Eddie made a show of paying close attention, surely just to mock you, as you raised another finger with each new rule you stated, “One: we have to try to be nice to each other. Two: no unnecessary touching if no one’s around. Three: we have to spend a lot of time together, like, not just at school - we have to go out sometimes, especially to places where people will see us. Four: we have to be extra obnoxious when Duncan’s around. Five: … I’m in charge.”

At the last instruction, Eddie laughed right in your face, “You’re in charge? I thought this was a relationship, not a dictatorship.”

You had a response ready to leave your lips, but you let it go - practice for the inevitable niceties to come, you supposed. Eddie studied you for a moment while half smiling, seemingly aware that you were doing your best to bite your tongue.

“Alright, alright, you’re in charge…” He rose to his feet, which seemed to signal that the conversation was coming to an end, “So, what, starting tomorrow I’m your boyfriend?”

“I mean… Should we build up to it first?” The question sounded ridiculous, you knew it sounded juvenile and naive in its way, but it had to be asked. And yet again, Eddie chuckled.

“Sure, we’ll ‘build up to it.’” His tone was teasing, but not quite so mean as before. Eddie studied the look on your face, trying to learn how to read you considering the amount of time you were surely about to start spending together, “Don’t worry, princess, I’ve got this in the bag. Relinquish some of that control a little, okay?”

He slowly began to walk backwards towards the trail, waiting for you to join him, so you stood to walk alongside him. You almost neurotically began dusting yourself, trying in vain to get the dirt and the mud and the dead leaves off of your skirt, out from under your nails.

You caught up to Eddie easily enough, continuing to pick at your well manicured nails, “I’m serious, Munson, please don’t fuck this up.”

Eddie threw his arm around your shoulder, once again disregarding one of your rules without a single care. He looked down at you with a teasing look on his face, confirming that he did that on purpose, confirming that he was sure to keep doing it on purpose, “Relax. I’ll flirt with you tomorrow, I’ll flirt some more throughout the week, I’ll start hanging around your locker or talking to you at lunch, and then by the end of the week I’ll ask you on a date. Deal?”

You stared into Eddie’s eyes a moment before lifting his arm off your shoulders, stepping just out of reach with a mild sneer on your lips, “Okay, deal.”

His smile is wide as he walks alongside you back to your cars. This was going to be one hell of a time, and he, frankly, was all too curious to see how it would turn out.

[cheriladycl01]

Surrounded by Ice - Kimi Raikkonen x FigureSkater! Reader

Plot: The Iceman just surrounds himself with Ice in every aspect of his life

A/N: Just a short little Kimi drabble, more exciting stuff coming soon, just been swamped with Uni!

Credit to summerblueringo for the GIF

"How does it feel to bring home a gold medal for your country, again?" the interviewer asks and a big grin appears on your face.

"I mean, i love the sport and I've worked hard to get where I am. I think this year there were many other contestants who also deserved gold and everyone who took part today were amazing!" you keep smiling, it had been a really amazing set for you today. You'd even broke some records while here.

"And now what is your plan?" they ask holding the mic closer to you.

"Well my husband is waiting for me, just over there. So i think he wants to give me his congratulations" you say pointing out our stoic looking husband who was waiting in the background, keeping to himself watching the world go past.

"Ah yes, Kimi Raikkonen! The Ice Man, who arguably married Queen of the Ice" he jokes making you laugh a little. You had heard similar jokes many times since you'd married Kimi.

"Yes, obviously being here in South Korea for the Winter Olympics has been amazing, and I'll be sure to train hard for 2022 but now I'm needed to go support my lovely lovely husband in his fast cars" you exclaim, knowing that the Australian Grand Prix was round the corner.

"Ah yes, it's looking like a good season for Ferrari! And we can tell from your outfit today they already have your support"

"My support is for whatever team my husband is in, so Ferrari have had my support since Kimi has raced with them!"

You left the interview thanking your team before finding Kimi waiting for you quietly.

"Home?" you ask and he nods silently grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the arena.

"You were fantastic today!" he smiles, holding you and pulling you into a kiss.

"Yeah? You liked the new twist i did?" you ask, your routine today being one of the hardest you'd ever done. You mascara had infact started to run, from the sweat building on your forehead throughout the day.

"I like everything you do"

You guys both went back to the hotel, packing up all of your gear that had been here for the past month you'd stayed in Korea for. Once you were sure you hadn't left anything behind you made your way to the airport.

Kimi now only had a month until Australia, his personal trainer had come with you to Korea to help him train while he was out there supporting you.

Now, you'd train while you were travelling with Kimi. Finding ice while on the road with him was always difficult, but finding places to just work out and keep your fitness up was never hard as you'd train alongside Kimi. It was one of the ways to spend extra time with him during the season when he was most busy.

In the free month before Australia you started your research on where you could go in Melbourne to skate, you found somewhere that Kimi was happy with you going too as it wasn't too far from the hotel you'd be staying in or the race track for if anything went wrong.

"Will you watch me on the Sunday though?" he'd asked you as you were both lying in bed the night before you were due to fly to Australia.

"When have I ever not?" you ask, turning over in bed to look at him.

"Hmmm, I can for sure think of one time..." he smirks looking over you.

"If your talking about China, almost 10 years ago that doesn't even count!" you laugh, poking his cheek a little.

Your husband never failed to amaze you, his striking blue eyes and his soft blonde hair was what initially drew you in. But it was your first interaction with him that made you fall for him fully.

It was the Autumn of 2008 and you were 22 and you had just won your second Gold Medal in China, you'd stayed there for the months after the games as they left the Beijing Olympic Park open and it seemed like a good place to stay and to train.

You managed to get tickets to other sporting events in the months you stayed there such as Snow Boarding, Golf but the best one was when the Chinese Grand Prix came about.

You were active on the socials you had back then, and so it wasn't hard for Sauber BMW to reach out to you and give you a guest pass.

You'd been walking round the paddock, just investigating when you'd bumped right into the Finnish Ferrari driver. He had just stared at you while holding a tight grip on your wrist so you didn't fall over.

You remember him asking if you were okay, and some other questions that you hadn't heard fully as your brain had gone foggy at the sound of his soft, yet deep voice.

It was a little embarrassing, when he'd tried to speak Finnish to you, and then decided on English, but with no reply he was left stumped and awkwardly standing there.

He'd soon left after that but you were on each other's minds for the whole day. You tried to keep up conversations with the BMW drivers Robert and Nick but your mind kept drifting the the Finnish Driver for Ferrari.

He found you after the race, and just stared at you for a while before you made the first move speaking to him. And the rest was history.

You spent the next 5 years together as partners, it was convenient for someone like Kimi who raced all through the year apart from summer and winter to end up with someone in a sport who only competed for a month in the summer and winter. It meant that they also still got a break with each other.

After 5 years, Kimi let the big question unload and now you'd been married for 5 years.

"Of course, my love! You know that!" you smile, pulling him closer to you. You tuck yourself into his surprisingly warm embrace, considering his nickname was 'Iceman' he was the warmest person you'd ever had the privilege of meeting.

"I was thinking ..." he breathes, his voice a little higher and whiny than normal.

"Mmmmm, you don't do that often?" you tease, a hand running up and down his back.

"Well, I'm the ice man, your the Ice Queen... i was thinking maybe it's time we have an Ice Baby?" he whispers in the softest most unsure tone you'd ever heard.

"You think now's a good time?" you ask, and thinking about it... it was. You yourself had two years before the next Olympics in 2020, and Kimi was at a point in his career where he could leave and live comfortably if he needed and wanted to.

"I haven't told you this, but they want the Sauber kid in my spot. I'll be going to Alpha Romeo next year. I feel like I've done what i can and I've had my time in the sport... and we aren't getting any younger. Especially me..." he jokes, being 44 now.

"Mmmmmm I think now is the perfect time" you smile.

Flash forward to the Austin Grand Prix and you were 6 months pregnant. You'd already announced it and so many people were excited for you and Kimi, through the season he had loads of interviews. All against his will of course but people saw a different side to him when he talked about you and the soon to be baby.

It was a great race for Kimi in Austin, he pulled through with his first win of the season, valuable points that helped contribute towards his position in the drivers standings.

"So Kimi, first win of the season today! How are you feeling?" an interviewer asks, he was sat in a panel with some of the other drivers in a debrief.

"It was good to get a win, this season has been tough. We've had an interesting year with veteran drivers like myself, Seb, Fernando and Lewis being pushed by newer or younger drivers who are proving to be good competition like Charles, Max and Pierre" he answers.

"There have been rumors that you wont be here with us next season?" he pushes and Kimi roles his eyes.

"If I'm not it's not an issue... racing is my hobby that i get paid to do. I'll leave when i want to" he admits without letting anything slip that Ferrari wouldn't want to come public knowledge.

"Lets move on to you Lewis..."

And for the rest of the interview all he could think of was coming back to you.

Once your daughter was born in January before the start of the 2019 season and Kimi moving to Alfa Romeo everyone on the grid wanted to meet her. So of course, you were obligated to come to Australia for pre-season testing. Your 3 month old being so intrigued at the busy rush of everything around her.

She was a fan and driver fav around. Everyone had a picture with her and introduced themselves as her uncle and that they would look after her. People like Lewis, Seb and Charles all came with little gifts for her, Seb even had someone make her a custom team Ferrari top so she could fit in with her father and her Uncle Sebastian.

"Today was amazing!" you sighed as you leaned into your husband who currently held your daughter against his bare chest.

"Mmmm, I think you should both take a break though, at least until Summer break and join me afterwards" he smiles, knowing that the heavy time change from Monaco to Australia wasn't good for your or the baby.

"Well, I may as well come to Bahrain with you... its on the way back. But I will leave after that" you smile, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I love you, thank you for giving me this life" he smiles looking between you and his daughter.

"I wouldn't have it any of way" you grin.

Taglist:

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[venus-haze]

Watch Honey Drip, Can't Keep Away (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: America’s golden son can't keep his eyes off of you, almost like he wants to devour you whole...or something like that.

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. This is kind of in the same universe as She’s Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best. I know generally men in the ‘40s, let alone Soldier Boy of all people, wouldn’t really consider going down on a woman, but it’s my fic and I get to decide he eats out. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Period typical misogyny, power imbalance. Explicit sexual content involving masturbation and oral sex (f. receiving). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

“Which city are we going to next?” you asked, finally comfortable in the swanky hotel room in Chicago you were roomed in with three other girls from the troupe. Soldier Boy’s Sparkling Sweethearts. People came from miles around to show their patriotism–and get a look-see at the acts. If it weren’t Soldier Boy, it was you and the other Sweethearts. Something for everyone, really. Even in places like–

“Wichita.”

A collective groan filled the space, littered with makeup and dresses that’d inevitably shoved into suitcases in a hurry the moment of checkout. There were more important things to worry about than being organized.

“Better than wherever the hell we were last week. Couldn’t get enough of us on Saturday, and then nearly ran us out with pitchforks after the preacher was through with them Sunday morning.”

“I’m going down to the bar while we’re still in a hotel that has one,” you said. “I’ll be back later.”

“Not if Soldier Boy’s there.” A giggle tore through the room. “Did you see him earlier? He looked like he could eat you alive.”

You weren’t even supposed to have been up there with Soldier Boy during his act, a routine that showed off his powers and preceded his usual rousing speech to get the American public to open their hearts and wallets to the war bonds drive. But Darla had broken her leg while ice skating on a day off in Milwaukee, and Soldier Boy had specifically asked for you to fill her spot.

Your role involved memorizing a few lines from a script and looking pretty while Soldier Boy understandably took the lead, but your “rehearsal” just hours before was little more than going through your lines once before Soldier Boy poured you a shot to “calm your nerves” and spent the following fifteen minutes fucking your mouth before sending you off to get ready for the show. 

Walking up on that stage again after your usual routine with the Sparkling Sweethearts was nerve-wracking. Though you knew what to expect, you still felt like your heart was going to pop out of your chest every time he lifted you above his head or tossed you up in the air and caught you, to the raucous applause and cheers of the Chicagoans and celebrities who’d packed the theater to see him.

“Betty Grable’s in town, so I think she’s the main course,” you said as you left, closing the door behind you and leaving your coworkers to tease you in private.

Among the various hobbies you’d taken up since becoming a Sparkling Sweetheart, people-watching in hotel bars was one of your favorites. He would almost always be there too, an otherworldly presence with an abundance of movers and shakers rotating in his orbit, unable to resist the pull of America’s golden son.

Some of the girls in the troupe didn’t care for him, found him too brash and handsy. You could think of at least one who’d been unceremoniously replaced after loudly complaining one too many times. No one really knew what the extent of his powers were, but after that incident, you suspected enhanced hearing might be among them. Or someone was just a snitch. 

When you stepped into the bar, a quick scan of the room revealed Betty Grable to be nowhere in sight. You didn’t see Soldier Boy either, until a deep voice wrapped around you like velvet.

“There’s my girl.”

“Who, me?” you asked teasingly.

“‘Course you are, honey.”

“Because I heard Betty Grable’s in town—“

He scoffed. “That broad? Who needs her?”

Your chest filled with pride at his statement. She was the pin-up girl of choice for every GI in Europe and the Pacific. Well, almost all of them. His arm settled around your waist as he told the bartender to give you whatever you wanted. The overhead lights in the bar were nice and low, you felt warm beneath Soldier Boy’s gaze. Being the object of his attention always carried weight. He was the world’s first superhero, after all. A living legend. Plenty of other women he could be spending his time with besides you.

Pressing your lips to his cheek, you whispered a ‘thank you’ for the drink, taking in the way he licked his lips, his handsome face so close to yours, still under the slight cover of the shadows. Whoever decided a helmet that covered half of his face would be part of his costume needed serious help. 

“Y’know, if you hadn’t come down here, I might’ve gone up to your room and dragged you out,” he said, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “It’s like you were shakin’ your ass just for me on that stage.”

“It’s called shimmying, and I’m glad you liked it.”

“I was thinking, how about you replace Darla for my act?”

“Permanently?”

“Sure, we’ve got great chemistry,” he said, squeezing your hip, “on and off stage.”

As the night progressed, your conversations with Soldier Boy were interrupted by the slew of people who recognized him, excitedly introducing themselves and asking for a few minutes of his time. He graciously accepted with a ‘You don’t mind, right honey?’ And you shook your head, watching him humor politicians, business moguls, and socialites.

You smiled when the latest one had made their departure, tilting your head the slightest bit. “Do you even remember what my name is?”

“Honey suits you better,” he said, his tongue darting out between his lips. “Bet you taste like it too.”

“You sure?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I guess so.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, passing you his room key. “You go make yourself comfortable while I close out my tab.” 

As if he’d even be paying for the drinks himself. It’d probably be billed to the Department of Defense, or that strange company that sponsored the tour. You didn’t pay much attention to who was signing your checks, just that they cashed out when you brought them to the bank.

You balked at his hotel room, far more space than a single man could possibly need. Then again, he rarely spent his nights alone. 

Comfortable. Ridding yourself of your clothes, you climbed into the giant bed, pulling the covers just over your breasts. As you laid back on the plush pillows, you recalled earlier that day when he had swatted your ass as you walked off stage after your act with him was finished, playing it off as a joke to the crowd who cheered and whistled. The simple yet slightly painful gesture had gone straight through you, however, and you worried that there’d be a noticeable wet spot on your satin panties when you and the other Sparkling Sweethearts returned for one last routine to close out the show, your high kicks telling on you.

Biting your lip, you glanced at the door and slipped a hand between your legs. He had only said to make yourself comfortable, nothing specifically about waiting. Gently prodding two fingers against your pussy, you weren’t surprised to find that you were wet already. Your eyes fluttered shut as you pushed your fingers inside, thinking about how his hands felt on you earlier. Strong and steady, big hands that could break you so easily but didn’t.

“Couldn’t wait?” He stood at the end of the bed, fully clothed with his arms folded over his broad chest as he pinned you in place with his disapproving glare.

You gasped, pulling your hand from between your legs. “I was just–”

He clicked his tongue at you, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. “My fault for keeping you waiting too long, doll.”

Soldier Boy joined you on the bed, pulling back the covers you’d pulled over your bare body. He pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with an overwhelming fireceness as he groped your breasts, squeezing down your stomach to your hips and finally your thighs. His lips followed that same path, kissing and biting along your skin that suddenly felt feverish beneath his touch. Still, your pussy ached for him, especially since he had walked in while you were pleasuring yourself, but he wasn’t paying any mind to it.

Until he dipped his head down, licking your wet cunt. In your shock, you pushed your thighs together, as if his intrusion were unwelcome. 

His strong hands held your legs apart, gently squeezing the tender flesh. “I jerked off thinking about this earlier, but nothin' like the real thing, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes focused on the ornate ceiling. Gold leafing, a Renaissance-esque painting, surely Soldier Boy didn’t care much about that. 

“Eyes on me, honey. You got that?”

Immediately, you looked at him, his blazing green stare burning through you until you nodded. He wasted no time in burying his face between your legs, his tongue flicking against your clit with such force that you realized you had no idea what getting eaten out by a superhero would actually entail. 

He lapped at your pussy with an insatiable fervor that made your legs shake beneath his steady grip. Your moan caught in your throat when he plunged his tongue deeper into you, his nose brushing that sensitive bundle of nerves he’d already teased. 

A whine tore from your throat when he pulled away for a moment, smugly admiring your glistening sex. His lips appeared coated in your juices, and you nearly came at that sight alone.

“Fuck you’re soaked,” he growled appreciatively. “This all for me?”

Who else? As if any other man could make you feel pleasure so intensely, as if that were yet another superpower of his. For a moment you bemoaned a possible future of unsatisfying sex with some regular old Joe–not America’s hero, its fucking sex symbol. But all you could manage was a weak, “Yes.”

Satisfied with your response, he closed his plush lips over your clit, sucking on it like he was pulling from a cigarette, your arousal burning deep in his lungs. You grabbed at the sheets, digging your hands into them as you grind your pussy against his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a split second, shooting open when he smacked your thigh. Eyes on me.

“Fuck—Soldier Boy,” you moaned. “‘m close.”

He growled against you, the vibrations from his throat edging you closer to orgasm. His inhuman stamina meant he hadn’t given you much of a break since he lowered his face between your thighs. He’d been content to tease you for a while, but he seemed more focused, intentional with the way he ate you out, his attention especially focused on your clit. 

You could feel it, that tightness in your abdomen that was about to snap. Involuntarily, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were on that stage again, in his big arms, bright lights blaring as you stared dreamily at him. Then he threw you in the air, higher and higher until you came back down and–

“Soldier Boy, oh my god–don’t fucking stop,” you pleaded, riding out your orgasm on his face.

His hands held down your bucking hips, your ecstasy overpowered by his determination to bring you over the edge until you were an incoherent mess, muscles aching at the exertion of each orgasm despite him doing all of the work. Light-headed, seeing stars, you reached down, tugging at his hair. That was it. You were tapping out. Mercy.

He granted such, though he pressed sloppy kisses to your inner thighs, nipping at the tender skin. All you could give him was weak moans in return. If you expected to be able to go anywhere else the rest of the night, he’d made damn well sure you couldn’t so much as move from his bed. Maybe that was the idea.  

Your breath caught in your throat when he lifted his head, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand, though the evidence of your orgasms was still all over the rest of his face. He kissed you, the foreign taste of yourself filling your mouth, sending a deliciously obscene rush through you. His mouth broke from yours, just for a moment, as he whispered your name against your lips. You realized you didn’t actually know his.

[ts19009]

Seventeen Fic Rec's Part 2

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: February 3rd, 2024)

Kim Mingyu

Urban Hearts, Rural Souls (farmer mingyu) @hoshifighting

oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g) (dilf!mingyu x afab reader  | chan x afab reader) @ncteez

Need A Hand? (farmhand!mingyu x farmer's daughter!reader) @everyonewooeverywhere

✧ back to december (smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, angst (resolved!), best friends to strangers to lovers) @toruro

Between the heavens and the earth (Royal!AU, smut so MDNI!, angst, pining) @gyuldaengi

New Rules (basketballplayer!mingyu, collegestudent!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, s2l, smut) @leejihoonownsmyheart

BLOOM FOR ME (college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!) @sanakiras

Honeyboy (SLOWBURN, back and forth PINING, angst, summer romance, spice/nsfw mentions and smut, eventual friends to lovers, brief high school!au, fluff, slight love triangle, lots of teasing/flirting.) @chocosvt

Lilac Lace (roomates au, fluff, pwp, humour, roomates to lovers.) @starlightxsvt

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread) (Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader) @gyuswhore

xu minghao

now or never (when you make a chance encounter with your ex, you end up saying that you’re engaged to your estranged neighbor xu minghao. when you find out your ex is coming to your friend’s wedding, you’ve only got a month to become a convincing couple.) @heartkyeom

to love easily (non-idol!minghao x fem!reader) @minghaoyoudoin

rush hour (enemies to lovers, dancer au? unresolved sexual tension, smut) @lovelyhan

terrified (idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis,) @lovelyhan

Remembrance of Ice (ice king!xu minghao x fem spy!reader) @gyuswhore

Apple of My Eye — xmh (fluff, descendants au, child of snow white reader, reader is shorter than minghao) @rubyreduji

Jeon WonWoo

new beginnings (: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.) @etherealyoungk

the bore next door (j.ww) @ncteez

Patterns (fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits) @highvern

under wisteria blossoms (town doctor!wonwoo x reader) @lovequartz

Before the Day Begins (an interesting way to start an early sunday morning with your boyfriend wonwoo) @kyeomofhearts

wedding weekends with wonwoo (fake dating, non-idol au, photographer!wonwoo, florist! + gn!reader, fluff, angst if you looked hard enough (honestly, it’s kinda cheesy lol) @suhnshinehaos

OVERSET (ai!wonwoo x R&D!reader) @drunk-on-dk

Say Yes to Me (1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader) @ssinboo

roommates with benefits (smut, fluff, humor, college au, roommate au, frat au) @shuaflix

Hong Jisoo

Cockroach (Joshua hates cockroaches. Never in a million years would he ever be able to kill one, but thank goodness he has you to take care of that.) @beomboomboom

fine line (figure skater!joshua, writer/fangirl!reader, best friend!jeonghan, dad!seungcheol, smut, fluff, angst, some occasional skating jargon, this is a lot about the Olympics) @heartkyeom

leaning on the everlasting arms (childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader) @onlyhuis

golden hour (fluff, slice of life, best friends to lovers, summer vacation au ━ best friend!joshua) @dkfile

wildest dreams | joshua hong (best friends to lovers!au, fake dating!au (kinda), fluff, humor) @viastro

yoon jeonghan

𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (enemies to roommates to lovers, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) @wonustars

lens of ice | yjh | one (figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff) @wongyuuu

January 9th | Prologue (Actor!Y. Jeonghan x Single mom!reader) @sunnylovespickles

The Christmas Boyfriend — yjh (fluff, smut (minors dni), fwb, fake dating, college!au) @rubyredujibyredujii

I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS (comedy (?), angst, smut (minors don't interact)) @ressonancee

Kwon Soon-young

hoshi; vowels and veracity (m) (teacher!soonyoung x single mother!reader) @hansolmates

Deserted (Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers) @ihavethedreamies

Edible Arrangements (college roommate!soonyoung x afab!reader) @bitchlessdino

highrise (ceo!au… ish) walking around your apartment naked has never been a problem, since you live in a high-rise and no one can see in, at least that’s what you thought…) @sluttywonwoo

[video-game-luvr]

80's themed Honkai Star Rail!

A/N: Let me cook! Let me cook! These prompts will be made into yandere fics, if you guys enjoy it, the smut will come eventually.. If you folks dig it! Just be patient and let me cook! I haven't ever posted actual fics or series so my work isn't the best but I still hope you bunch enjoy it nonetheless! Feel free to correct me or tell me if it's OOC! I am always open to improving! English was not my first language.

My ask box is open for ideas and thirsts! Maybe an 80s slasher theme next? A serial killer is on the loose! Who could be behind the mass disappearances!

Neighbourhood dilfy uncle Gallagher, who is friends with your parents... This prompt would also work so well with Jingyuan! Your parents just trust their friends so much, don't they?

Welt being that hot librarian with a mature charm. You can't help but gaze at his veiny and calloused hands, holding that book, and scrutinizing everything about the contents of the book.

Sneaking out at night to skate around with Caelus and Luka!

Dan Heng who is part of a band, as a bassist. Walking around everywhere with his headphones on. Talking about music with him, and him sharing all his favourite songs with you by giving you a custom made cassette! (Though it was probably pirated)

Going to a cassette store and befriending Dan Heng gives you butterflies. The usually cold and hard-to-approach Dan Heng was now your friend!

Gepard being the local heartthrob, he is such a sweet man, always helping his neighbours with carrying their groceries to their house. Funnily enough, this man is also really clumsy. Your mom asked for his help in changing a light bulb, only for him to fall over from the ladder, luckily he didn't get any major injuries from it.

More about Gepard, he is part of the baseball club! His broad figure and precise aim makes him perfect for it! Just about everyone has a crush on this brawny oaf! He is such a himbo. He can definitely do no harm!

Rock star Blade/Yingxing! It just makes so much sense! Especially if his band is punk, definitely an alternative band for sure, even if it's not punk. Just cheering for him with all your heart, and seeing him throw a wink your way.. Orz "Meet me behind stage." He mouthed to you. The cold arrogant star took a liking to you! Now this is exciting!

Ah yes, Sunday. The epitome of a perfect man. A role model for everyone in school. (Probably a preppy private school) His drive to keep things in order is commendable. All of his perfect execution as a school president isn't limited to the school. He also most definitely goes to church and organizes youth events, leading the choir, you name it!

However, under that flawless persona. Sunday is probably hiding some deep dark secrets. Who knows what that man is thinking.(It's giving... cult leader!)

Playing videogames with Caelus! Who has been your trusty neighbour for years! Your first encounter was him digging into piles of junk, you were really weirded out at first, and probably refused to play with him. But with enough nagging from your mom, you slowly warmed up to the idea of being friends with that weird silly neighbour of yours. From that point on, you guys started to play videogames together! Caelus has started to change over time, he seems to not be able to focus on videogames anymore.. His face oddly becomes red when he catches you gazing at his face. Without your knowledge, someone's love has started to bud and bloom. (He wants you so bad! You might regret befriending this weird kid!)

Himeko is the absolute hot aunt! The resident MILF! Every time she talks with your mom, you can't help but stare at how beautiful she is. She can't help but tease you about how adorable you look with that flushed face of yours. Your mother trusts her with all her heart. I'm sure she wouldn't do anything twisted.

Argenti, an art student. His vision of what beauty is is directly painted onto the canvas. He is incredibly passionate about his vision. A beautiful birth, a beautiful life, a beautiful end to life. He may seem a bit eccentric at times, but he means well... Right? (He is probably a cult member... Not Sunday's though. He is a follower of the path of beauty!)

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (23)*

Happy Sunday release day everyone!

Just a reminder that chapters marked with * contain NSFW content! Read with discretion.

Enjoy!

-----------

The next morning you wake up early and sit in your window sill reading silently. After a while, Pansy gets up and starts to get ready for the quidditch match.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” She asks.

“Oh…I don’t think I’m gonna go today.” You say, putting your book down.

“Ok well I can already tell you who else won’t be going…” she throws her hair up before continuing, “you two need to talk.”

“I know…” you say quietly. You were scared to talk to Mattheo. Scared of what it meant for the two of you. You guys hadn’t gotten in a fight yet at all and you blurted out something you shouldn’t have. You had no idea what this was going to lead to.

Pansy leaves the dorm shortly after that, leaving you alone. You change into leggings but keep on the shirt you wore to bed…Mattheo’s shirt.

You had to stare at yourself in the mirror for 10 minutes before finally deciding to leave and go talk to him. You had to get it over with.

You walk over to his dorm, thinking about turning around with every step. When you finally reach his door, you lightly knock. There’s no answer so you open the door slowly.

“Matty?” You ask as you open the door. The room is empty with the lights off. He wasn’t here.

You close the door and leave the slytherin house, walking outside. You knew where he was. You find him on the bench, your bench drawing in his sketchbook.

You walk up beside him and sit down, him not acknowledging you.

“Matty…” you say quietly, your arms crossed because of the cold.

He doesn’t respond at all, continuing to sketch.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, I was just so mad.” You say softly, you felt like you were skating on thin ice.

Mattheo’s pencil stops moving, “I don’t want to be like them.”

“Hey, look at me.” You cup his face, making him turn to look at you, “You are not your parents. Do you hear me? You are not them.” 

You can tell his eyes are a little glossed over but he’s trying to hold it back.

“Mattheo I love you so, so much. Never in a million years could I think that you’ll become them, not for a second. You’re too good.” You hug him tightly, him reciprocating. His sketchbook and pencil fall to the ground but neither of you care.

After a minute, you back away. The silence hangs in the air for a few minutes before you remember his things had fallen. You bend over to pick his book and pencil off of the floor, “you look good in my shirt baby” 

“Ok now you’re trying to get in my pants” you laugh, setting the book down as he pulls you in and kisses you.

“I can’t help it, my girlfriends hot” he smiles as he continues to kiss you.

“Oh mi amor, you make my heart flutter” you whisper back.

He backs away, standing up and holding his hand out to lift you up.

“What?” You laugh.

“Don’t think you can say that and not get fucked into the next century” Mattheo says, your eyes widening.

“Mattheo!” You laugh, he was so horny but somehow you weren’t surprised.

“Oh don’t go shy on me now.”

You stand up, taking his hand, “ok fine, let’s go lover boy”

He grabs his book and you both practically run back to his dorm. As soon as you shut and lock the door behind you, you’re both ripping off clothes, desperately trying to touch each other sooner.

“I need you” you breath in between kisses, “right now” 

You help him unbuckle his pants and pull them down as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt. 

As he kisses you roughly, he pushes you back onto the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as he puts on the condom.

He climbs on top of you, dropping down and kissing your neck, leaving hickies for sure.

Your hands explore his back, scratching at him, desperate for more, “Matty please”

“Ok baby” he lifts himself up off of you and lines himself up with you before slowly inserting himself, “still so tight for me”

He was…big. And you knew that but with the last few weeks being so busy, it had been a while.

You arch your back, your hair definitely getting tangled against the pillow. You reach for the sheets around you, desperate to grab onto anything.

“Ohhh” you close your eyes, feeling too much all at once.

“No, open your eyes” he breathes out as he pumps in and out at a slow but solid pace.

You open them, staring at himself with your mouth slightly agape, “you’re insane” you could barely get out.

He continues his strokes, quickening his pace.

“Fuck” he says, feeling you soaking wet around him.

You start to play with your nipples as you throw your head back, mattheo finding your g-spot.

He rests one of his hands on your stomach, the other holding up one of your legs.

“Matty I’m almost there” you breathe out, making sure to watch him the entire time.

“Cum for me baby” he whispers right before you reach your high.

He continues pumping in and out as you take deep breaths, finding it hard to see anything but stars.

Only a few moments later does he fill the condom with his own orgasm, pulling out of you. You stay lying there, still trying to catch your breath and touch back down to reality.

Mattheo wipes you off before laying on the bed next to you. You turn your head to him, “make up sex is the best actually”

“Oh for sure” he agrees before you lean in and kiss him, this time soft and tender.

You take Mattheo’s hand in yours and hold your arms up, staring at his veins showing.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing…” you laugh.

“No, I see you staring” Mattheo calls you out.

You drop your hands, still keeping yours intertwined with his, “so what? I just find your arms attractive”

“What don’t you find attractive about me?” He asks. You weren’t sure if he was being serious.

“Well for starters, your horniness. I just can’t keep you off me” you laugh, joking.

“you’re such a brat” Mattheo watches you, smiling as you play with your hands, not looking at him.

“Yeah maybe but I’m your brat” you smile, looking back at him finally.

“Absolutely you are,'' you two stare into each other's eyes for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll be right back” you say trying to get up but Mattheo doesn’t let go of your hand, “just give me 2 minutes” you laugh. You lean in and kiss him before he lets go.

You grab your clothes and walk into the bathroom, coming out dressed a few minutes later. Mattheo has put shorts and a t-shirt on and was laying back down waiting for you.

“See I told you” you say as you climb back onto the bed and lie down, resting your head on his chest.

“Did Pansy tell you what happened last night?” Mattheo asks you, his hand resting on your arm.

“No, what happened?” You ask.

“Theo finally hooked up with someone” 

“Oh?” He hadn’t been with anyone since you. It didn’t even feel awkward to talk about it since you were with Mattheo now but it was a bit of a shock.

“Oh yeah. I saw them myself. When I came down from the astronomy tower last night, I almost walked in on them. Luckily, the girl was not quiet, whoever she was.” Mattheo laughs.

“Are you serious?!” You turn and look up at Mattheo in shock.

“Dead serious. I left so quick” Mattheo responds, nodding his head.

“Wow, good for Theo” you say, resting your head on his chest again, “can I tell you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So after you walked in on him and I last year…” you pause as mattheo takes a deep breath, “ I didn’t finish so I went back to my dorm and…”

“You did not…” he says, smirking. You sit up and look back at him.

“I pictured you as I masterbated.” You finish. You cover your eyes with your hands, “oh it’s so embarrassing”

“If by embarrassing, you mean incredibly hot then yes it is” he sits up as well.

“I never told Theo obviously because I never intended to do it again but then over the summer…I did it again”

“Good to know I was in your thoughts” he smirks, obviously satisfied with himself. “You know I wonder if I was in that girl's thoughts last night, obviously Theo doesn’t get the job done…” he trails off, still teasing.

“Okay, well if you’re just gonna tease…” you pretend to start getting up but Mattheo grabs your arms and pulls you back into him, kissing you.

“No you don’t pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

Taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @hatakemrs @iamdnb @cindyss @swamp-box @schaebickel @princessluvssleep @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss

[lvrhughes]

Best Friend's Teammate| Q. Hughes

if this does not line up at all, I've never been to rogers arena during hockey season and I literally just chose the first canuck to come to mind to so that's why we've got Brock

word count: 1.9k

pairing: Quinn Hughes x f!reader, platonic!Brock Boeser x f!reader

summary: there’s a family skate and your best friend convinces you to come, the issue being you can’t skate. but he has a solution, the defence man you’ve been crushing on will teach you

warnings: pretty fluff, kissing, falling?

requested: no

not my gif!

“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Vancouver for the past three years and you still don’t know how to skate!” Your best friend, and pain in the ass, Brock exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes once again, the third time this week he’s brought it up.

“Why do keep bringing this up? What’s happening?” You finally pushed.

“There’s a family skate tomorrow and I want to bring you” he finally caved.

Of course there was a skating event Brock would want you to go to. You looked up at him, he had his best puppy dog eyes out and you knew he knew he’d won once you looked at him.

“Fine.” You muttered crossing your arms, “but you have to teach me”

“Deal!” He was radiating excitement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, 10 am sharp Y/n/n” he called walking the path towards his place while you continued to yours.

What the fuck had you just signed up for, oh god. You knew Brock, so why you still agreed you didn’t know. Brock would definitely get distracted and leave you like Bambi on ice tomorrow, hopefully Elias would help you. Maybe Quinn would be there.

Everyone could see the small little crush you were pining over the young defenseman. It was clear to everyone but Quinn.

The morning rolled around sooner than you would’ve liked, having to get up earlier then you’d want. You had to search for the pair of skates you had from when you once tried to skate, several years ago.

About 20 minutes after you did find them, Brock showed up at your door, he didn’t even bother to knock he simply walked in.

“Oh dear Y/n” he chanted through the house, snooping through the rooms for you.

“Bedroom” you called back and waited for him to come.

He came running in, sliding his socks along the hardwood floor.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, but you got to promise you won’t just leave me” you made him swear to that, even though he’d break it at some point.

The drive to the rink was the worst part, you had time to think it over. You, who couldn’t skate, surrounded by hockey players, children, and other adults that could skate, you were bound to embarrass yourself. You tried to shake the thought of face planting in front of everyone but you could, but Brock noticed.

“Calm down, you’ll be fine.” He words barely comforted you but it was enough for the two minutes before you made it in the rink.

“What am I doing here Brock, I’m going to die!” You exaggerated, he let out a chuckle.

“No your not”

“How do you know?”

“Because even if I’m not with you, Quinn’ll be” he beamed.

What did he say.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I got Quinn to help teach you.” Brock looked so proud, you were going to kill him.

“You” you pushed your finger against his chest, “are dead to me.”

You knew you were being dramatic but you also knew he knew it was a joke. The smile across his face said so.

“Come on Y/n/n, he’s like the best skater on the team” he bargained.

“hmph” was all you mumbled out before finding a bench and sitting. Brock followed behind you, carry both of yours skates.

“Let me put mine on then I’ll help you” he offered but by some ironic luck, Quinn was there.

“It’s fine Brock I can help her” Quinn offered, Brock quickly accepted for you.

And so you were sitting on a bench, with Quinn at your feet tying your skates, definitely not how you pictured your Sunday going. He stood up, placing his hand out for you.

“Are you ready?” He questioned, no, but nonetheless.

“I guess” you said grabbing his hand, trying to stand. You hadn’t realized how unstable you’d actually be on skates. You almost immediately fell back, but Quinn was faster, he arms wrapping around your waist to stop you.

He let out a small chuckle, helping you stand up completely.

“Do you want to try getting on ice now?”

“God no, but Brock will kill me if I don’t”

So he lead you towards the ice, you could see Brock doing laps, talking to children as they came to him. He made it look so easy. Fuck it, if he could do it you could too.

Quinn skillfully glided on to the ice, you already envied that ability. He took your hand again, helping you to keep steady when you stepped on.

“Okay, just hold my hands we’ll go slow at first” he was so calm and nervous at the same time it almost scared you. But you did as he said, you held his hand, like you life depended on it, and he slowly skated backwards.

“That's good, just copy what I’m doing” so you tried, and you did it the first few times. The was before you caught a divot in the ice.

“Fuck” you said almost falling atop of Quinn, you quickly rolled off him.

“I am so sorry” you were quick to apologize but ur didn’t seem to care, he had a small smile on his face.

“It’s fine. It happens” and with that he got up and helped you up. This time only taking one of your hands, you missed the warmth he gave but wouldn’t dare say that aloud.

“You remember how to push?”

“Yeah”

“Okay do that, it’s the same as before but now you're beside me.” He was so gentle explaining how to push and glide it made you think skating was the easiest thing in the world, you just couldn’t understand.

He let go of your hand, you shook a little bit but we’re soon comfortable. He skated a bit ahead.

“Okay, now skate to me.” He told you. He had so much confidence in your ability, you thought. But you tried.

You made your way over to Quinn, slowly but at least you didn’t fall. Pushing and gliding your feet like he had shown you.

“Perfect” he said once you’d reached him, he took your hand again. He pulled you closer to him and spun. Giggles left your mouth as he did, he thought it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Quinn I’m going to get dizzy!”

He slowed so you were just standing in his arms, it was peaceful. All the sound around had faded, it was just you and Quinn in that moment. His eyes stared down into yours, they were so beautiful.

He was so beautiful. That’s all you had figured out, he was gorgeous and you had a crush on him. Unintentionally your eyes darted to his lips, back they were quick to return to his eyes. You saw his eyes look to your lips quick before letting you out if his arms.

“Come on, let’s go get a hot chocolate, then more laps”

A slight disappointment filled you, but you knew Quinn was too good for you. So you skated beside him, still holding his hand, to get off the ice for a drink.

Once you two both had drinks, and had enough of them for the moment he put them beside all your stuff and brought you back on to the ice.

You skated laps beside him, some laps holding his hand, some without. You preferred the laps holding his hand. A shiver ran up your spine, Quinn noticed.

“Here” he said taking off and handing you the hoodie he was wearing.

“No it’s fine, you’ll get cold.”

“Y/n, I basically live on the best ice, I’ll be fine”

You had no argument against that so you took his hoodie, sliding it over your head. It was warm and smelt like him. You just wanted to curl up with it and never leave it.

Quinn’s heart melted at the sight, you in his hoodie, it was definitely too big for you, but he thought it was adorable.

“Y/n” Brock called, skating over before icing both you and Quinn.

“I see you learned to skate” he snickered towards the fact you were now wearing Quinn’s hoodie and holding his hand.

“Shut up”

“She’s actually doing really well” Quinn contributed. Brock just laughed in reply, almost challenging to what Quinn had just said.

You had to admit, you were extremely competitive and petty. So what Brock had did, gave you reason to try and skate better than him.

“I can skate.” You declared. “One lap and you have to admit that I can skate.”

He nodded, you let go of Quinn’s hand and began around. Brock followed beside you, Quinn behind. It was a peaceful lap, until a small child cut in front of you and if u didn’t try to stop you would’ve ran it over.

“Fuck” you mumbled, now sitting on the ice. Brock laughed.

“Oh shut up, that wasn’t even my fault!”

“I know but it was funny” he couldn’t stop laughing, until Quinn nudged him acknowledging the look in your face.

Quinn was quick to help you up, pulling you into his arms while. You hid your face in his chest, knowing they’d seen your reaction to the teasing. They didn’t need to see your reaction again, embarrassment overcoming whatever you were feeling before. Quinn wrapped his arms around you, it was nice. He was warm and smelt good. The urge to nuzzle yourself deeper in his chest was so strong, you made yourself pull away before you could give in.

“I think I’m done for the day.” You said, getting positioned to skate towards the gate.

“No I’m sorry I shouldn’t have laughed, please you were having so much fun with Quinn. Continue on, I’ll go find the team” Brock excused himself before you could deny, your feet were beginning to hurt making you want off the ice anyways.

“Fucker” you whispered under your breath, yet somehow Quinn still heard.

“Do you really want off?” He looked a bit sad, and you knew you couldn’t say no to the kicked-puppy look he had.

“My feet just hurt that’s all”

“If you want we can get off?”

“No it’s okay, let do some more laps”

He smiled, his smile was so pretty, god you were in love. So you did more laps with Quinn, staying on the ice until you had to leave.

Yet again right before getting of the small child appeared to trip you, this time onto Quinn. Your face flushed, now you laying on top of Quinn.

“I am so sorry”

You didn’t even get the extent of your apology out before Quinn kissed you, it shocked you. You froze for a second before melting into him. Your arms found a place around his neck, his wrapping around your waist to keep you on top of him.

You both did have to pull back for air eventually, much to both of yours disappointment. He helped you up from on top of him, on the ice, and pulled you against him again.

“I am so glad you didn’t yell at me” he laughed, placing a kiss on your head.

"Why would've I yelled at you?" A little confused, your tone laced with it.

"I mean I just kissed you, I didn't even ask." he was soft with his words almost embarrassed, you just smiled at him.

"I'd never yell at you, Quinn. I've loved you since we first met."

"Really? That was like three years ago." he seemed shocked, it was a little intimidating, you had to admit.

"I thought I was the only one" he admitted shortly after.

"You've loved me since then too?"

"How could I could I not?" He had a smile on his face, he was practically glowing.

"I love you so much, Quinn"

"I love you so much more"

[obsidianbaby]

Don't Love Me Like A Brother - Prologue

Brothers Best Friend Series - PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1 -

series synopsis - ronnie's younger brother, tyler, is a famous youtuber & influencer and is best friends with the sturniolos. This series will be following ronnie's life as she befriends the triplets and catches herself developing feelings for a certain someone...

**series will contain smut as it develops but warnings will be added to those specific chapters

**found myself writing a few flashback chapters before present day just to build up the established friendships bc I'm impatient and don't want the slow burn to drain anyone 😭

warnings/notes - no smut in this as it's just the prologue to introduce y'all to the story.

a/n - starting this series and im very exciteddddddd i hope y'all fuck with a slow burn, friends to lovers best friends brother type beat. Buckle up mfs it's gonna be an angsty ride

a/n pt 2 - im not gonna share who ronnie develops feelings for just yet I want y'all to be on edge okok enjoy MWAH xx

__________________________________

PROLOGUE

ronnies pov

having a brother who's famous on social media is humbling to say the least.

The amount of fan girls who have followed my accounts just because they're obsessed with him makes me question many people's sanity (including my own).

But tyler is one of my best friends. And thank god for my dad, who from the jump, did not tolerate any misogynistic bullshit from my brother.

Raising two kids as a single dad after my mom passed away (before ty and I were older than the age of 5) was tough for him and he embraced the times when he needed support (like when i first got my period, bless his heart he bought almost every type of menstrual product off the shelf).

His values were the perfect structure for us to grow up following; respect, open communication, giving our best efforts to everything (even if the only effort we could offer up was a 60% instead of a 100%)

My childhood friends would always whine about how "chill" my dad was. And it's not cause he didn't care, (he probably cares too much) but he didn't want to shield us either, knowing we need to learn how to exist in the world without him constantly up our asses.

"As long as we can talk about shit at the end of the day then we're good" one of his favorite mantras he would spew to me and ty when we would get caught doing something you might call a "right of passage" as a teenager.

And since it was just the three of us, we've always leaned on each other a lot. Sunday family dinners at nans' every week, taking turns helping my dad at his shop after school (he's a car mechanic), movie nights every thursday night where my dad would close up shop early, setting up the projector in the shop garage and ordering us pizza. My brother has been a best friend to me since I held him in my arms at the age of 3 when he was born.

And of course, we have the usual chaotic fights to the death like most siblings do, him pranking me in the most annoying ways, me making fun of his dumbass, him eating all of my food, me stealing his cool clothes, him begging me to uber him around everywhere, etc.

But we also just really enjoy each other's company too; going on late night walks around town, sitting in bed staying up talking all night, playing mario cart for hours (id always kick his ass), going adventuring together to forests or beaches, hanging out at the skate park together (me laughing at him eating shit and him chasing me around trying to whack me with his board), us both ditching our friends to stay at home and yap to each other instead, us having campfires in the backyard with both of our friend groups together, working on restoring mom's 1967 ford mustang together that she left us when she passed.

So when he came to me a few years back, during the pandemic, asking my thoughts on him posting on youtube, I was in full support (after teasing him that no one would find him, an 18 year old lanky white boy about to graduate high school funny or interesting. I have to keep him humble ya know?)

But his first few videos on youtube went viral and his following kept growing daily, especially when he started posting on tiktok too.

He's had me (and even my dad) featured in his videos which i don't mind at all (since im the one that's editing them)

I can see why the internet loves him (i did help raise him of course).

But since he's hit over 3 million on youtube last year, he's been doing a shit ton of collabs with other influencers and youtubers; the sturniolo triplets, larray, emma chamberlain, jake webster, tarayummy, vinnie hacker, carrington, etc.

And these days I try to stay behind the scenes as much as possible, trying to enjoy my solitude away from the opinions of crazy fans. (why do they care so much about what im doing anyways?)

Yet he understands (thank god) and he's always inviting me to come hangout with the friends he's made through social media, and i can't lie and say i don't enjoy being in the company of such dope (and attractive) people.

END OF PROLOGUE

______________________________________________

a/n - hellooooo i have a few more parts already written for this but im gonna wait to see how this post goes first (because i have a dire need for validation and praise) anywaysssss thank you for reading mwah xx

[atinylittlepain]

I'm On Fire

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut right out of the starting blocks, young joel is a goddamn menace, a little angst as well

wordcount | 8.5K

a/n | thank you all for reading this series, i really loved writing this part and i hope y'all enjoy - as always, drop me a line and tell me what you think. oh also, obviously you should listen to I'm On Fire while reading this. But, if I could offer a non-Bruce song (blasphemy, I know) for your listening-while-reading pleasure, it would be Fruits of My Labor by Lucinda Williams, it is so goddamn Cherry-coded. Okay, that's all, thank you for reading.

(gif by @santigarcia)

......................................

“Hmm.”

“Cher.” His lips against the bare wing of her shoulder blade, his fingers curling around the sheet to pull it down over her ass, his palm stopping on the curve before slipping up and along the slope of her spine, all the way to the nape of her neck. 

“Hmm?” His lips right at the shell of her ear, the whole heat of him draped over her prone body. She can already feel his cock smearing pearled pleasure against her low back.

“We gotta get up.” A kiss to the side of her neck, just under her jaw. She still doesn’t move, keeping her nose buried in his pillow and breathing so deeply it’s just him in her lungs. Sweat and salt and him. 

“No we don’t.” His nose skates down the center of her spine, the loss of his presence making her shiver under the weak breeze of the box fan in his window, still morning, still cool before the heat starts to creep in. 

“It’s Sunday.” He coaxes her legs apart, completely limp in his hands, so he can settle between them, his palms finding her hips and hitching them up in the air ever so slightly.

“Amen.” His laugh washes over her, still wet, still tender from last night, now spread open for him.

“We gotta get to church.” A kiss to where her thigh meets the crease of her ass, one on each side before his palms spread her open even more, her whole body clenching in anticipation.

“I’m not going.” She tries to keep her voice steady when he noses through her swollen cunt, lips finding her clit in a soft suckle, but her words come out a bit breathless anyways, her face still pressed into his pillow.

“No? Not going?” He speaks with his mouth still so close that she can feel the low thrum of it in her pelvis, resisting the urge to buck her hips back to seek out more of that burn.

“Nope.” He does it again, letting his jaw go slack and putting the open heat of his mouth flat over her cunt, tongue dragging heavy and straight through her. She wonders if he can taste himself, still slipping out of her, still a bit sore, so she blindly reaches back, finding the crown of his head and tugging. A low mumble, need it gentle, need it slow, because we weren’t either of those things last night. 

“We have to go, Cherry. People will talk.” His palm wide over her ass, he uses his thumb to keep her spread for him, dipping his tongue into her clenching hole, kissing it better. Always aching, always dripping, always so blisteringly ready for him. She starts to hum into his pillow. 

“Don’t care.” She cries out when he slips two fingers inside her, too much, tears with how too much it is, though she still rocks back against his hand when he slowly pumps deeper. 

“Tough girl doesn’t care, huh?” She’s starting to sweat, spit pooling under her tongue, open mouthed and dripping onto his pillow in a silent whine when he crooks his fingers against that spot, that spot he likes to tease and toy with so much, that spot that would’ve had her leg kicking out behind her if his other hand didn’t have a firm grip around her thigh to keep her on her knees, her hips up high and quivering. 

“None of them matter.” He works her until she’s starting to twitch with it, broken little sounds in the back of her throat that turn into a dejected sigh when he pulls away, leaving his hand on the small of her back, the slick coating his fingers cooling and sticking against her skin. 

“That right?” Not gone for long, she preens when she feels the thick heat of his cock slip through her aching cunt, her spine stretching out long and languid, a perfect arc that he curls over as he splits her open. It hurts, good hurt, stretching hurt, her eyes scrunching shut, so sensitive still. He shushes her groans, pressing his lips to her temple, coaxing her face to turn and seek out his in a kiss that tastes like herself, her eyes still closed tight.

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t really pull out, just ruts his hips deeper and deeper against the curve of her ass and it’s so much, so early, all she can do is take it, slack and simmering at the same time. 

“Do I matter, Cher?” One hand pressed against her belly, palm splayed out over softness, the other wrapping around her torso, palming the weight of her breast as he hoists her up against his chest, limbless and keening in his grip, her head falling back on his shoulder. 

“So much.” He holds her, suspended, strung and taut in his hands as he fucks up into her, his nose dragging along the line of her jaw. 

“So much?” It’s all she can do to reach her hand back and grip his ass, that tight clench of muscle as he grinds his hips against hers. His hand that had been clutching her breast drags up to rest over the front of her throat, thumb and forefinger framing her jaw to tilt her head toward him, a silent ask that she obliges, her eyes finally slipping open to look at him.

“The most.” Good morning, what a sight. His hair sticking up all which ways, sleep still heavy and dark around his eyes, his lips parted and shiny with her and the quick pink of his tongue. His fingers pinch at her jaw, opening her up for him to lick into her mouth. He mouths at her like he’s trying to swallow up the high little cries he keeps punching out of her with the way he’s keeping her so full of him, throbbing and dripping down her thighs. And it still hurts, still fucked out, raw and red and reeling, but this is all she wants lately, to have him so deep that she knows she’ll be thinking about him for the rest of the day. 

“Just want one, Cher. Then we gotta– fuck– gotta get to church because we-we’re both going to hell at this rate.” That makes her laugh into his mouth, Joel cursing low when her cunt clenches around him, a brutal drag. 

“You and me, baby.” She knows exactly what she’s doing by saying that, that little word that seems to make his brain fry. She saves it, rations it, only letting it slip up her throat on spare occasions so he doesn’t get too accustomed to it, so he still reacts like he does now, his eyes scrunching shut, pained pleasure, and his hips snapping against her ass a little harder. His hand slips a little lower from where it was splayed against her stomach, finding her clit in a greedy swirl. And it isn’t long before her spine is stringing so tight that the stick of her skin pulls away from his chest, a sharp gasp of his name before everything turns liquid. 

Even as he continues to fuck into her, he’s gentle, so gentle guiding her down in her slump back onto her stomach, holding her hips up with his hands curled around her waist. His warmth starts to spread inside her with a quiet groan, hips close and jolting against her, his face pressed between her shoulder blades before he slackens on top of her entirely. She likes the weight of him, the whole body press down into his mattress, pushed and pulled by his breath battering against hers in their ribs. Always missing it when he presses his palms into the mattress to lift his torso up and off of her, still inside her, starting to soften and spill. He traces a finger from the side of her cheekbone along the curve of her ear, a silent ask that makes her turn her face to the side so he can dip down and find her mouth with his. 

“For the record, I don’t wanna go either.” Another kiss, just a quick, smacking thing before he rolls over beside her, flopping down onto his back and dragging his hand through his muss of hair. 

“I know.” She props up on her elbow, her cheek in her hand so she can look at him, reaching out because she can, letting her thumb slide gently beneath his lashes because she can, his cheek rounding under her ministrations. 

“Ma would throttle me if I didn’t.” He tilts his chin up, lips to the pad of her thumb, and then teeth just to get a laugh out of her. 

“I know.” Said on a long sigh as she finally turns over and sits up in bed, Joel’s palm immediately finding her spine, running the length of it, fingers curling over her shoulder at the top before slipping back down. 

“And your parents, well.” He doesn’t finish the thought, well coming out long and low on an exhale. She silently thanks him for not finishing the thought, looking at him over her shoulder, small smile before she gets out of bed, his eyes trailing her bare body as she shuffles around the room, the remnants of him already starting to slick down her thighs. His hands are crossed behind his head, young muscles tensing in his arms, suddenly seemingly content to stay splayed in bed while she puts on the dress she had packed last night for church. Her parents think that she’s sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house. She’s been sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house a lot lately.

“C’mere, Cherry baby.” She ignores him, padding into his bathroom and running her fingers back through her hair a few times, good enough. Joel has turned over onto his side to watch, a low rasp of singing that she has to roll her eyes at. 

Cherryyyyyy, cherry baby

Mmm, you look so fine

I’m gonna make you miiiine

“That’s not even how the lyrics go.” 

“No?” 

“No.” She knows that she’ll break if she actually looks at him, so she keeps her eyes pointedly focused on slipping the kitten heels her mother insisted on getting her for church onto her feet while Joel huffs at her cold shoulder.

“Come teach them to me then, Cherry baby.” She finally breaks, and of course he’s smiling, his dimple deep and endearing and annoying.

“Joel, get up. You’re the one that was so worried about being late to church.” He scoffs, slumping back down into the sheets with all the drama of a swooning maiden. She’s going to have to use a different tactic.

“I’ll do that thing you like so much later if you get dressed right now.” His whole torso shoots back up at that, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Today?”

“This afternoon, yeah, after we atone for our sins.” He’s already up and stumbling into the bathroom, his bare ass giving her quite the show. 

They drive separate, of course, and they’re both still ten minutes late to church. 

…

She’s on the phone when she answers the door, her eyes lighting up, big smile even as she keeps talking, tilting her chin to welcome him into the front hallway.

“Well, I don’t have twenty thousand more words for you yet, and since when are we on some insane time crunch anyways?” He can’t help smiling watching her, pacing a little back and forth, a deep pull to her brow as she fires off sharp words down the line.

“Look, I can’t tell you when it’s going to be done, you know I don’t work like that.” She holds up her finger to him, mouthing one minute. He nods, staying right where he is as she pads further into the house, still muttering into her phone. His eyes start to wander, looking into what must be the living room off to his right, awash in full light from the large windows in the front. To his left is a staircase, pictures already hanging along the hall opposite it. Mostly of her and Ellie, one sending a particular pang though his chest. It’s her holding what must have been Ellie as a toddler, all bundled up, her tiny cheek pressed against Cherry’s, rounded with smiles. They’re standing in front of a huge Christmas tree, that one they put up every year in New York, he recognizes. Cherry couldn’t be more than twenty-four, maybe twenty-five in the picture, still so young. 

“What’re you doing here?” He whips around to see Ellie coming down the stairs, death glare in fine form this morning as she comes to stand in front of him with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. 

“I’m gonna be fixing the porch.”

“That better be all you’re fixing, old man.” Absolutely no clue how to respond to that, and luckily he doesn’t need to because Cherry is coming back down the hall, no phone in hand this time.

“Hey, babe, carpool is gonna be here soon, have you had something to eat yet?” He feels like he shouldn’t get to see this, their quiet rush of a morning routine, Cherry already flitting away into what he assumes is the kitchen as Ellie groans that she isn’t hungry this early, Cherry back just as quick with a banana and a just humor me, please when she hands it to the kid. And then the phone rings again and Cherry groans, quick kiss to Ellie’s forehead which she scoffs and squirms out from under as Cherry darts back down the hall to pick up whoever is calling. Ellie meanwhile shoulders on a backpack and opens the front door, but not without turning around to shoot Joel one more look.

“I’m watching you, old man. Even when I’m not, I am.” She points a sharp finger at him, though he has no time to respond to that either, Ellie shouting a quick love you, mom down the hall which is easily answered by Cherry’s love you, babe, have fun before the kid is out the door with a hard slam. Joel already feels exhausted, and he’s only been here for all of five minutes. 

He decides that it’s okay to shuffle a little further into the house, following the sound of Cherry’s voice, still rattling off rapid fire to whoever she’s talking to on the phone. He hovers just in the doorway of what he assumes must be her office, sparsely furnished, just a desk with one of those fancy new Apple desktops on it and a slew of pens and notebooks surrounding it. Still a tall stack of boxes in one corner, though there’s already a shelf built and packed with books along the wall. 

“No, no, no, we tried to get her to do the cover art for the last one, and it was a complete fucking mess. I don’t– why are we even talking about this? The book is nowhere near finished yet– this is actually ridiculous. You know what the best thing you could do for me right now is? Leave me alone so maybe I can actually get some work done. Okay? Great, thanks so much, bye.” He winces at how hard she shuts her cell phone. But when she turns around to look at him, the scowl on her face melts into more of a resigned grimace. 

“Sorry about that.” 

“If it’s a bad time, Cher, I can come back another day.” She’s breezing right past him, always at a clipped pace it seems, and all he can think is that he should probably be following behind her and into the kitchen, so he does, albeit a little tentatively, not wanting to disrupt whatever warpath she seems to be on.

“No, it’s a perfect time, I swear, I will throw my phone in the garbage disposal if anyone else calls me.” She has a hand held up, as if she’s trying to remember something and pointing one finger into the air will help, her eyes scrunched shut. Honestly, she looks completely fritzed, taking a few steps toward the refrigerator, then seeming to change her mind and walk back over to him where he’s standing in the doorway. 

“Right, the porch, sorry, let me just get my brain out of my editor’s ass and–” He cuts her off with a hand on her bicep, easy, friendly. He can do friendly.

“Cher, really, it’s okay, I have all day.” She finally seems to take a breath that makes it past her throat, that frantic tilt in her eyes already starting to smooth. 

“Is Sarah’s team doing the whole bonding thing today too?” He nods, sharing a quick smile with her, and then remembering that no, not friendly to just keep his hand on her bicep and no, there is no non-awkward way to retract his hand, though he does his best.

“So the porch, what am I working with here?”  She leads him out to the backdoor and he finds that he’s working with exactly what she described. The planks are all rotten, pock-marked and fraying, a complete hazard. He doesn’t even try to walk on it, it's that bad. 

“Well, what do you think?” She says it with the corner of her thumbnail worrying between her teeth, leaning in the doorframe beside him.

“I think you’re gonna need a whole new porch, Cher. Just looking at it, I can tell you right now that none of this is safe to salvage.”

“That sounds expensive.” Not for you, he’d like to say. Not anything for you. But he can’t say that because then she’d never let him do it in the first place. 

“Nah, it’s easy stuff. Maybe a few days, but really, not major at all.” Her eyes scan out over the porch, and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

“How much do you think, altogether?” 

“Uh, well–”

“Joel, no.”

“What no?” 

“No, I know what you’re doing, and I’m not gonna let you undersell your work just because it’s me.”

“Friends and family discount, Cher.” There is no friends and family discount. His uncle asked them to build a new addition to his house last year and the Miller brothers were happy to charge him full price, just good business. 

“I want you to tell me how much it would be if I was just some random person that hired you.” If it gets her to drop it, he’ll indulge it, he’ll just leave out the fact that he’s never going to accept a single dime of it.

“Well there’s the cost of materials and labor to consider. I could probably get this done over three or four days. You’d be looking at anywhere from four to maybe six thousand dollars.” She nods, working her jaw as she squints out at the porch again before finally holding her hand out to him, though it takes him a beat to realize that she’s looking for a shake. 

“Alright, sounds like a deal. And I will be paying full price, just so you know. I’ll send the check to Tommy if I have to.” He’s still holding her hand in a ridiculous shake, nodding along even though he’d throttle Tommy if she really did that. 

“Whatever you say, Cher. So am I good to go ahead and get to work out there?” 

“Yes, yeah, absolutely, it’s all yours to have at it–” She’s cut off by the sound of her phone ringing in the other room, her whole face scrunching up at the sound.

“Sorry, I just– well, you know your way around the house, right?” She’s already shuffling down the hall toward her office.

“Yeah, I think I can manage, don’t worry about it, Cher.” Her phone is still ringing as she leans out of the doorway of her office, smiling at him, all apologetic. 

“Thank you, so fucking much. If you need anything I will most likely be in here for the rest of the day.” She slams the door behind her, and he figures that’s where Ellie gets it from. 

…

She almost didn’t return to the auto shop, wan and worn out from what being ten minutes late to church got her, a sharp look from her mother when she slid into the pew next to her, the least of hers worries when she got home after the service. Her parents, so hell-bent on everything being prim and perfect and in its right place, and god forbid anything ever be not that. Nothing prim and perfect about it, really. 

She parks at the back of the shop, her usual spot, a quick swipe of her knuckles under both of her eyes, sniff, a bit stiff. She can’t believe that after all this time, this stuff still manages to make her cry. She wishes that it didn’t. 

He’s finishing up for the day. She always comes around just when he’s punching out, hovering around the front office, usually a little giddy with it. But tonight she only feels a tired anticipation, trying to get herself ready to be okay for him, when really all she wants is to lay down and be very still for a few hours. She can’t do that though, because he’s there, covered in grease with his ball cap hanging out of the backpocket of his coveralls, all smiles when he sees her through the window of the front office looking in on the garage, laughing and getting ribbed by the other men he works with when he sends her a little wave. She waves back, trying to make a smile happen, though she sees that it looks more like a wince in the reflection of the window. But then he’s really there, coming through the front office, keeping his hands to himself when he smacks a quick kiss to her cheek on his way to the sink to wash up, his neck craned to look at her even as he does. And he’s singing again, and she doesn’t know why, but it’s making her throat curl up tight and hot with tears all over. 

Cherryyyyy, cherry baby

Cherryyyy, can you come out tonight

She blinks hard to hold back the salt, trying to make another smile happen as he walks over to her, taking her bag from her shoulder into his hand. And she knows he knows that something isn’t quite right, his brows falling, a barely there question that she’s grateful he doesn’t ask, tugging on her hand to lead her up the back stairs to his apartment above the shop. 

“Just gonna get a quick shower, but then I’m all yours.” A small kiss to her lips, she just nods, worried that her voice will give her away, so quick to fall apart under his gaze. While he cleans up in the bathroom, she sits down on the edge of his bed, steepling her hands along her temples, her elbows resting on her knees. It’s a small thing of an apartment, one room, a bed in one corner, and what could be called a kitchen in the other, counter and refrigerator and an ancient looking stove. A small table with two chairs tucked into another corner, and a dresser she knows came directly from his childhood bedroom in the other. The simplicity is soothing to the dull throb settling under her skull. 

The shower squeaks off and she hates that she takes a deep breath as if to brace herself for his presence again. He’s quiet padding out of the bathroom, she only feels the slight dip of the mattress as he crawls up behind her, the smell of that irish spring soap he uses washing heady and heavy over her mind when he presses a kiss to the top of her shoulder. 

“What’s going on, Cher?” It always shocks her, how quiet he can get, usually all brass and brash, and it certainly doesn’t help the whole not crying thing either. 

“I know I said– this morning– um, I know I said that I’d– that I would–” Her fists are clenched so tight in her lap that she thinks her fingernails might break skin, trying and failing to get the words out before the flood comes. But Joel is already springing into action, coming to sit next to her on the edge of the bed, nothing but a towel around his hips, collecting both of her hands in his, unfurling them in his. 

“Hey, hey, what’s– what is it? What’s wrong?” Just a few, enough for her vision to start to cloud with them, though she can still see the way he ducks his head down to catch her gaze, his brow crumpled and a deep frown pulling at his lips. She takes one of her hands from his to pinch the bridge of her nose, trying to cut off the tears before they can really start falling. 

“I think I’m just tired. I’m sorry, Joel. Would it be okay if we, um, if we just–” He squeezes her hand, a relief in its quiet reassurance.

“Why don’t we just lay down, Cher, huh? It’s too hot out for anything else anyways.” She mumbles a warbly okay, but he’s already up and rummaging through his dresser, pulling on a pair of boxers before digging out a shirt for her as well, because she’s still in the stupid dress from this morning, only now realizing how badly she’d like to claw it off right now. 

Finally, they settle down around each other on the mattress, only the sparsest of clothing, the sheets kicked off the end so they can stay close even with the humid warmth in the air. And after dozing for an hour or two like that, letting that thick crush of tears dissolve itself with her cheek smushed against his bare chest, she lifts her head up to meet his half-shut eyes. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Cher.” 

“Do you ever think about leaving?” He drags his finger down the line of her nose, then back up and over the arc of her eyebrow, idle and easy. 

“You mean– like leaving town?”

“Yeah, getting out of here.” 

“Sometimes, a lot less than you do, I bet.” 

“Sometimes it seems like it’s all I think about.” Joel lets out a long sigh at her words, his finger continuing a random path along her jaw, over her bottom lip, mismatched mapping.

“I know it is, Cher.”

“Do you think I could do it? Just not come back?”

“I know you could. Go and be a big time writer and all that.” 

“You could too, you know.” Joel snorts, and she brings her palm down on his chest, a small don’t.

“Yeah right.”

“You could. There’s auto shops in the big cities too, Joel.” 

“I don’t wanna work in an auto shop for the rest of my life, Cher.” 

“What do you wanna do?”

“I’m still figuring that out.” She hums, pressing a kiss to his chest, her bare legs shifting in their tangle with his. 

“Would you do it with me?” It comes out, bubbles up from her chest before she can stop it. And she only realizes how badly she wants it after she has asked it. How quickly this has turned into the only thing she wants, her mind finally catching up with everything else. How somewhere along the way, nothing serious, just for the summer, became something else entirely. 

“Do what?”

“Leave and not come back, with me.” 

“Cherry.” Said long and low, like don’t tease, not this, please don’t. It makes her sit up a bit more so she can fully look at him..

“I’m serious, Joel.” Yes, she thinks, she is really, really serious about this. So serious about this it feels like her heart might split at the seams if he tells her anything other than yes. Joel still looks skeptical, unsure, his head tilted and his brow furrowed up at her. 

“Like, now?”

“No, at the end of the summer, two weeks from now. Just come with me when I go back to college.”

“And what, Cher? You’re gonna tuck me away in your dorm room or something?” She hates that now is the time he chooses to be such the pragmatist, frustrated heat creeping up her throat as she lets her nails scratch lightly against his chest, as if she might be able to coax something else out from behind his ribs. 

“We’ll get an apartment. I’m eligible to work as a TA next year, and you’ll find work too and then– and then I only have two more years left of school and–”

“Are you really serious about this?” He has finally sat up with her, stopping her ramble into the future with his palm cupping her cheek. 

“I’m so serious, Joel.”

“We’d be dirt poor.”

“Probably.”

“We’d probably kill each other after a month of living together.” 

“It’s possible.”

“Goddamn it, why am I actually considering this?” That makes a laugh burst from her chest, her smile curling against his, her forehead pressed against his. 

“Just say that you will, Joel, please.” He takes a kiss from her, then another, then another until there’s no space between them, mouths moving mouths and sighs being swallowed and his hands coaxing her into his lap, holding her as close as he can.  

“You really want to do that– with me?” There it is, that smallness, that youngness, his eyes wide and rounded and looking at her and only her. Asking for something, anything from her. She gives him only the truth in return.

“I wouldn’t want to leave with anyone else but you.”

…

It’s impossibly hot out, humid too, and by the time one o’clock rolls around, he’s doing less actual work and more swiping away sweat before it drips into his eyes. Though he’s pleased with the progress he’s made, having already broken down the dilapidated porch, a huge pile of scrap wood all that remains of it, not much more to do now until he gets the materials needed to start building. 

“Cher?” He knocks on her office door, still shut, and he reckons it’s been shut since she slammed it earlier that morning. He thinks that he can hear the faint sound of typing, a small curl of guilt in his gut that he’s interrupting, but he knocks again, a little louder, the typing coming to an abrupt stop. 

“Hey, how’s it going out there?” She’s wearing glasses, thick, square frames that hang low on her nose, peering at him over the top of them. It stops his mind short for a moment, something new that he tries to quickly tuck away, but she still seems to catch his stuttered moment, her smile turning slanted as she pushes the glasses up and into her hair.

“Readers, can you believe that? I’m not even forty and I need readers. My doctor says it’s because I press my face too close to the screen while I’m writing, so chalk it up to occupational hazard I guess.” That makes him smile with a quick string of memories, her when they were kids, curled over her notebook with her nose pressed right alongside the quick scrawl of her pencil. Maybe not so new then. 

“Reckon I’ll need them soon too.”

“Well, I’ll give you a pair of mine when you do, I have about a dozen of them scattered in various places around the house.” She sighs, a glance over her shoulder to her computer, screen still on, mouse still blinking, and he remembers what he actually came to bother her for. 

“Just wanted to let you know that the old porch is all broken down. I’ll have one of the guys come by and pick up all the scrap in a day or two. Next step will be you deciding on what kind of wood you want the new one built with.” 

“Oh wow, you moved fast, huh?” He palms the back of his neck, just a bit bashful under her wide eyes and small praise. But then he realizes that he just showed her the huge sweat stain under the arm of his t-shirt, quickly dropping his arm back down with a shrug.

“It’s nothing, Cher, that wood was so rotten most of the work was already done for me.” 

“Thank you anyways, seriously, I– oh shit, is it really one already?” He realizes that she’s looking over his shoulder at a clock hanging on the wall outside her office, another long sigh deflating her shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’ve been working this whole time, Joel. Jesus, it’s so hot out– here–” She’s already on the move, and he just barely keeps up on her heels and into the kitchen. Whatever this is, this frantic and flighty energy, it’s definitely new. His protests fall on deaf ears as she bangs and barges around the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and water and– 

“We don’t have much to eat, and I know you aren’t exactly interested in tofu but–”

“Cher–”

“There’s a new sandwich place that I saw opened down the street? I forget the name but I could–”

“Cher, I–”

“I always have eggs in the fridge, not exactly lunch but–”

“Cherry.” Just enough volume, enough firmness for her to stop in her tracks, still that flustered look on her face, and it confirms what he had suspected. 

“Are you– are you nervous about something?” Another long sigh, the tense lift of her brow slackening as she hands him the glass of water, finally slowing down. 

“Do you want the truth?” He can’t help the short bark of laughter that comes out at her question, though she seems dead serious, looking up at him from under a rather timid pout.

“I’d prefer it, yeah.” 

“It’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Try me, Cher.” She rounds the kitchen counter to stand in front of him. He swears his heart jumps and jolts into his throat when she picks up one of his hands in both of hers, turning over his palm. He doesn’t dare move, not a muscle, watching the way her lashes drop down to her cheeks from the way she keeps her eyes focused on his hand.

“Well, I– oh, you have a splinter in your palm.” He is so completely uninterested in the fact that there’s a splinter in his palm right now, willing her to get back to whatever track she was just on, but she’s already tugging him by his hand through the house and up the stairs and into a bedroom, her bedroom, he thinks, and finally into her bathroom. And there’s no real thought formed in his mind as he watches her rummage in her medicine cabinet for tweezers, just that tightness in his throat and the strange kick in his chest. 

“Alright, quick pinch.” Something that a mother would say, his eyes prick with it, and not because of the swift pull of the splinter coming out of his palm. And she’s so close, her chin tucked down to look at his hand, her forehead almost grazing his. And her hand that isn’t daubing disinfectant into his palm is cupped so lightly beneath his own, her thumb stroking along the side of his. A small whisper of that’s better, though he doesn’t let her flit away when she’s finished, turning his hand to lace his fingers with hers. Her eyes stay focused on their hands, but he ducks his head down to finally catch her gaze. 

“Now what’s got you so nervous, Cher?” Quiet, something that she taught him how to do first, before Sarah did. How quiet he could be for her, and what a gift it was.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Joel, you.”

“What did I do?” The small curl of a smile, somewhere in the sway his forehead has pressed against hers so he can feel the ghost of that curve against his own.

“You’re here, in my house.” 

“Do you want me to leave?” So light, so barely, her nose brushing along the line of his. His eyes flutter shut with the sigh she lets out. 

“No, I very much do not want you to leave.” A fleeting thought, how easy this was two decades ago. How easy it was to reach out for her and now, now it takes every strung snap of his heart pulling and pulsing to close that space. But when he does, the world doesn't stop spinning, there is no orchestral swell. In fact, he can hear a car alarm going off outside. And it isn’t exactly good either, because the moment his lips brush hers, she is just as soon jerking her head away, a quiet curse in the back of her throat. Not exactly the reaction he was looking for.

“Shit, Cher, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, that one is on me. I just– could you– could we–” She takes another deep breath, like she’s trying to stop herself from tripping over any more words. He’s happy to fill in the rest for her.

“Try again?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

This time, he thinks it through a bit more. He brings his hand that isn’t held in hers to the side of her neck, his fingers curling around her nape, something steady to smooth out her fret. Nothing like this, not in years, though he wills himself to remember. A small one to the corner of her mouth, still an out, a chance to decide that no, big mistake, because if this goes any further, he doesn’t know if he could take no without falling to pieces. But she doesn’t pull away this time, her palm coming to splay against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, the smallest tug to come closer. 

The next one is good. The next one is a shared sigh, a yes, please, this. Missed this. Missed the soft puff of her breath against his mouth before pressing his lips to hers. Missed that sound, that broken little thing in the back of her throat when he slips his tongue along her bottom lip. Missed the way her jaw hinges, opening up to him easy. Yes, he thinks, this feels easy. Like they never stopped. 

Neither of them speak, silent understanding in the shuffle of their feet, knees bumping into each other as they stumble out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. He should be more careful, he should be less greedy. He should, but. But she’s here, and she’s pressing the perfect length of her body against his, and she keeps kissing him, surprising him when she pulls away only to put her lips in that one patch of his beard that has never grown right, holding her mouth there like yes, she has always been right there. 

So he grows greedy with it, his hands almost unsure of where they would like to start first. Her hips, holding the frame of them, feeling that presence before his palms slip up under the hem of her t-shirt, warm skin and the notches of her spine, known and unknown at the same time. And he thinks to himself that it must be a New York thing, this no bra streak she seems to be on, but he’s happy for it, makes it easier for his palms to spread out over the planes of her shoulder blades, the fragile flutter of bone and muscle as she circles her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers slip under the neck of his t-shirt, seeking out skin the same as him, and suddenly that little worry, that little fear creeps in. He could excuse it as insecurity, that would be easiest, so he does.

“Cher, I– I’ve been working all morning and I’m pretty sure I smell and–” The words fizzle out in his throat when her nails scratch along his shoulder blades, holding him in place as she noses along the line of his neck, her lips coming to rest just beneath the hinge of his jaw. Still surprising him, she ducks her head down, pressing her face into his chest, an inhale that feels deeper from the rise and fall of it against where his palms are still splayed on her back. 

“Joel, I really don’t give a fuck about that.” No, no retreat, not now, her small nod enough for him to take a little more, to keep going. She wants this too. Wants him too. And maybe, maybe she never stopped. Because she’s moving like him, desperate like him, searching like him, so maybe like him, she never stopped. 

Each article of clothing is asked after. Is this okay? Yes, please, yes. Still okay? Yes, still okay, please, yes. Until she’s bare and so is he, and it’s the same, and it’s so very different. His palm settles wide over her stomach, fingers slipping down along the dark scar just over her pelvis, her breath tensing and catching there as he does.

“Ellie was a c-section.” She says it shy, her eyes focused on where her hand is curled around his bicep. 

“That right?”

“Hmm, nothing ever easy with that one.” He smiles against her temple, his palm dragging up, settling at the curve of her breast, earning a laugh from her when he squeezes just a little mean. Up even further, to her shoulder, to that tattoo, that blooming branch of a cherry tree.

“When, Cher?” 

“Three years ago, and this one–” She pulls his hand down the side of her body, all the way to her thigh where the bundle of chrysanthemums is inked. 

“Two years ago.” He likes that it was so recent. The small, childish part of his brain does, at least. That she was still thinking about it, that she wanted to keep thinking about it. Something big and proud pressing against his ribs, just so to make him bold enough to coax her back and down onto her bed. 

He keeps his palm on the chrysanthemums, only removing it once he has settled on his stomach between her legs, quickly replaced by the open heat of his mouth, dragging along each dark bloom. 

“You’re bigger, Joel.” His first instinct is to turn sheepish under her gaze, nearly ready to tell her that actually, he’s doing Atkins. But then he gets a better look at her expression, the heavy droop of her eyes and the soft, small part of her lips. And she’s looking at him, all at him. He puffs up with that look, coaxing her thighs over his shoulders, only wanting it to ache a little with how wide he has her spread open. 

“Can I?” 

“Please.” All the nerves he remembers from two decades ago, anxious to do it right, to make it right for her. Though that’s tempered beneath the throbbing want he feels, no room to be bashful when he’s hurting so bad for it. And no room to be precious about it either, dragging the flat of his tongue through her cunt, a groan already crackling in the back of his throat when she says his name like a sigh, long and languoring. He stills remembers her fingers in his hair, and he can’t help the way his eyes flick up to her face, brow pulled down deep and wanting, trying to ask for it without having to as he sucks and laps at her clit. And when he pulls his mouth away enough to spit on her swollen sex, only to chase right after it with his tongue, pressing into her clenching entrance with his jaw dropped and heavy, she finally gives him what he wants, her fingers threading through his hair to cup the back of his head. A light tug, always in charge. 

���Like that– so good like that– fuck.” That’s another thing he’s noticed, a new habit she must have picked up along the way, her words a little crasser, a little more swearing mixing with everything else. It both shocks and delights him that her bite got bigger through the years. 

His hips have started to jolt into the mattress like a damn teenager, but he can’t help it, not when he’s watching the way the tendons in her neck arch and jump as he slides one finger into her cunt, quickly followed by a second when she preens more, please, more. He rests his cheek on her thigh, a kiss to the crease of her hip as he fucks her open on his fingers, that close curl he remembers her liking making her stomach clench and her back arch. 

“Look at me, Cher, please.” It feels more like a need than a want, to have her eyes on him, to make this real, and he’ll beg for it if he has to, but her eyes are already cracking open, still half-shut, the downturned fan of her lashes barely lifting. But she’s looking at him, her lips parting as she watches him press his mouth over her clit, holding steady swirling heat and pressure, chasing down her pleasure for her. 

“Baby– I want– I want– I–” He didn’t know he was waiting to hear that, how badly he wanted to hear that, has been wanting to hear that. And now it’s all he wants, that word, from her, over and over and over. He smooths his other palm out over her pelvis, holding her steady even when she tries to curl back into the mattress, away from the insistent press of his fingers and the heat of his mouth. 

“Say that again, Cherry. I’ll give you everything you want if you just say that again for me.” Her head is tilted to the side, her ear almost on her shoulder as she looks down at him, her face crumpled somewhere between hurt and want. But it smooths out all at once, and he knows she knows, an I got you in the small smugness of her slanted smile. 

“Baby, you’re gonna make me come.” 

“Who is, Cher?” His words slur hot and heavy over her clit, and he can feel the muscles in her stomach jump beneath his palm. 

“You–” She cuts herself off with a stuttered whine when he lets his fingers stretch and curl inside her, though she continues on a drawn exhale youyouyouyou.

“Close?” He doesn’t need to ask it, he can feel it in the way she’s clenching around his fingers, in the way her slick is smearing against the inside of her thighs, against his scruff. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“You want it?” Another uh-huh and a jerky nod, her fingers curling tighter in his hair and her heel slipping down his back, digging into muscle as he takes and takes and takes. 

“It’s yours, Cher. Take it, it’s all yours.” She does, perfectly, with his name small and nearly soundless in her throat, her whole body curling up tight around him before going limp, slackening slow. Just a weak pull of her fingers in his hair and a mumbled come here, please, come here, to coax him up the length of her body. 

His cock rests hard and aching against the crease of her thigh, and he hasn’t wanted something so badly, so entirely, in a very long time. She rests her hand on his chest, letting her nails graze down his front, particular attention paid to his stomach, something that makes him grumble, though she’s smiling as she does it, eyes crinkling up. Smiling like that, here with him like that, all he can do to duck down to make sure that it’s real with his mouth against hers.

And no, he thinks, they’re definitely not doing this in the right order. Probably should have had a healthy, adult conversation. Probably should have done a lot of things differently before ending up like this. But she moves so good for him, and he hopes he can for her too, his hand curling around the back of her knee to hitch it against his hip, opening her up as his cock drags heavy and wanting through her swollen cunt.  No words when he presses his hips forward, to the very end of her, just open mouths breathing each other in, and stillness that makes his head spin in the impossible heat of her. 

“Cher, I– been a little while for me and I don’t– I’m sorry– I don’t think–” Soothing, her palm brushing back his hair from his face, drawing his eyes to hers and she’s still smiling. Not mirthful or mocking, just presence, just feeling it too, her other palm smoothing circles along his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Joel, just let me feel you. That’s all I want.” He can’t help the sound that skitters up his throat at her words, something broken and small, because she just keeps looking at him, eyes wide and reassuring, still brushing her hand back through his hair, taking care as he falls apart for her. And it’s devastating when he finally moves, a full tilt unraveling as they both let out sharp breaths, her spine curling off the mattress when he thrusts forward again. 

They take it slow but strong, each press of his hips driving them further up the mattress until he has to curl his forearm around the crown of her head to keep her from jolting into the headboard. And he was right, it has been a while, and it’s her, and he’s already embarrassingly gone. And it doesn’t help that she’s murmuring in his ear all the while, that it’s okay, just want you, Joel, just want this, just give it to me, I want it. 

He comes with his hips bruisingly pressed against hers, with her whispered praises swirling around in his skull, and with his heart beating so hard he thinks his ribs might break with the ache of it. 

“You’re perfect, Cher. Nothing like this, ever. Just you.” The words don’t make much sense to him coming out, his mouth pressed over her sternum as he speaks. He just knows he means them, softening slow inside her, half a mind to apologize for thinking with his dick, but judging by the way her ankle is still hooked around his waist, holding him close, he doesn’t think she minds. 

And no, he thinks, this doesn’t solve any of their problems. So much that still needs to be said and understood and relearned. So much that needs to be sorry, so sorry. Two decades worth of sorry. But right now, she’s dragging her fingers through his scruff to pull his face to hers and she’s kissing him, and her chest is sticking to his with their sweat. 

“Missed you.” He’s not sure if he heard it right, mumbled out against his chin. Such a small sentiment to span all that time. 

“Missed you too, Cher.” 

...................................................

taglist:

@casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @suzmagine @everything-isfucked @lanabobana @kittenlittle24 @sarap-77 @officerrrfriendly @val-srz @bitchwitch1981 @redwoodsanddaffodils @themothersmercy @romanarose @lost-inhawkins @youcancallmeelle @hollywoodcaligirl @harryleatherfit @fifia-writes @brighttears

[mistysconcilium]

mistysconcilium's advent calendar!

⛄️ info: each day til christmas there will be a fic posted. on each advent sunday a longer fic will be posted! some days have holiday themed prompts, and the others will be a surprise (either holiday or regular). the last fic, on christmas, is a total surprise!

comment which days you want to be notified for!!

1st advent: madison montgomery

dec 2nd: kyle spencer ⛄️ ice skating

dec 3rd: zoe benson

dec 4th: winter anderson ⛄️ snow storm

dec 5th: michael langdon

dec 6th: tate langdon ⛄️ christmas sweaters

dec 7th: chanel no.5

2nd advent: peter maximoff

dec 9th: montana duke

dec 10th: jimmy darling ⛄️ tree farm

dec 11th: brooke thompson

dec 12th: james patrick march ⛄️ secret santa

dec 13th: chanel no.3

dec 14th: kit walker⛄️ christmas market

3rd advent: zoe benson

dec 16th: madison montgomery ⛄️ gingerbread house

dec 17th: chanel oberlin

dec 18th: peter maximoff ⛄️ snowball fight

dec 19th: kyle spencer

dec 20th: violet harmon ⛄️ christmas movies

dec 21st: luke cooper

4th advent: winter anderson

dec 23rd: chanel no.3 ⛄️ mistle toe

dec 24th: surprise!!

!!: some days or prompts might change since it’s a while until december actually starts! but most will probably stay the same!

love, elisabet

🔖; @lisboncy @angel-decoy @purple-cinematic @fear-is-truth @andiloveher @dearlizzies @sparklysage @urmomsg1rlfreind

dividers in order: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @issysh3ll @cannibalim

[mcufan72]

Cold winter days, a lonely woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...

An Encounter in Winter ❄️

Loki and female reader

18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/fluff/angst/smut (eventually)

A/N: this is a Loki x female reader AU. It's the most personal story I've written so far and I put my whole heart, blood, sweat and tears into it. It's a story about love and my protagonists talk a lot with each other. It's a slow burn but eventually, there will be smut.

I've never been to New York or Norway, all my descriptions are fictionalized. Also, my usage of MCU facts is incorrect and I don't delve deep into details here. I use it as I need it for my little story you hopefully like and enjoy!

This fic mentions an accident and alcoholism but only in one chapter. Descriptions are vague and not detailed. If any of it should trigger you, please don't read. Every chapter will have a warning if necessary.

Some things here are heavily inspired by @lokisprettygirl 's writing. Loki smelling like sandalwood and the overly sensitive lines on his skin when he's in his Jotun form are things I read in her fics first (HMN and TNSATSI). A big thank you to you, my friend, for being in agreement that I'm using it in my fic here, too. And also a big thank you for your constant support and encouragement. You know how much it means to me.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 here

It was a cold winter afternoon, Christmas day and New Year's Eve only a few weeks away. This year it was already very cold in New York City and you had to wear warming, cuddly winter clothing for your daily walks in the park. Today you chose a knee-long woollen black dress that hugged your body perfectly, warm stockings, a pair of warm leather boots, a thick black winter coat, a big-sized fluffy scarf in shades of green and your favourite knitted beanie with the dark green big bobble…and not to forget your matching knitted gloves.

Warnings: none so far, just some flirting

After you got dressed, you were on the way to the park. Walking to that place and spending some time there after work became a ritual for you since you moved to this city around springtime. Your favourite place there was a bench at the little lake and you loved to sit there, especially when the sun was shining.

You had a fantastic view over the lake here. There was also a large lawn where people could sit, do sports or have a picnic and there was plenty of space for children to run and play safely. You loved to sit on that bench, secretly you called it yours, and you loved to watch the people here being happy and having fun. Somehow it warmed your heart to see all the couples in love flirting with each other or the families on their Sunday walks. You could have had it too, all of it but … it wasn't meant to be. Not for you.

After everything that happened and went wrong in your life, you had the urgent need to leave your hometown. You needed that distance from your old life. You had worked in many different big cities like London, Berlin, Oslo and you never had any trouble finding a job.

And now it's New York. You hadn't gotten the job you originally wanted to get but it was fine for now. Most important for you was that this city had the right measure of distance to your previous home. Besides, there was no one left there who would worry about you. It seemed you were destined to be alone so you couldn't disappoint or hurt anyone anymore.

Now in the winter time, the shallow lake was completely frozen and the first snow had already fallen. The kids built snowmen with their friends or their parents, had snowball fights or made snow angels. Some people enjoyed ice skating on the lake. It made you smile when you saw how much fun they had.

You let your gaze wander over the scenery and you soaked up every beautiful moment of it as you did every single day when you were sitting here. It always calmed you down from your stressful job and it was also a calming distraction in general.

On the bench next to yours sat a man, watching the lake and the people like you were doing, an old married couple and their dog were walking past you and you greeted each other kindly. When you began to freeze you decided to go back home. You were hungry and tired and after a hot shower, you went to sleep.

The next day at work was a very hard one. Your job as a medical assistant at a medical care centre exhausted you more and more recently, there were so many people to take care of. So today's walk in the park was extremely welcomed.

When you had taken a seat on your bench you first soaked up the peaceful atmosphere. You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths and you felt better immediately. Your gaze wandered around and on the bench next to yours sat a man again. Wasn't that the same man as yesterday? You weren't sure and you didn't think about it further.

His gaze wandered around and he watched the people in the park. He enjoyed the atmosphere here, it calmed him down in a pleasant way yesterday and so he decided to come here more often. It was a good distraction for him from the hard and strenuous trips and missions he has to make regularly.

On the bench next to him sat a woman. Wasn't that the same woman as yesterday? It should be you, you wore the same unique beanie with the big dark green bobble. He will be here again tomorrow. Maybe you'll be here again too.

The next few days went by in the same routine and as every day you visited the park. And as every day…the man on the bench next to yours was there again, too. Sitting there like you, alone like you. How come you had never noticed him here except in the last few days? You came daily here for months now but you had never seen him here. Maybe he had just discovered this place here recently and it seemed he liked this place as much as you did.

Today you allowed yourself to look a little bit longer at him. He was well dressed, in a black suit, black leather ankle boots and a coat that seemed to be too thin for the cold weather. His raven hair was slicked back and reached far over his shoulders.

Even when he sat there with loosely crossed legs you could see how long and well-trained they were. Also otherwise he seemed to be very attractive. When he turned his head in your direction and glanced at you, you looked away quickly. You felt caught staring at him and you hoped he couldn't see your reddened cheeks.

The next day you came to the park again as he hoped you would do. Same time, same place. And you were alone again. Did you wait for someone who never comes? You sat down and watched the scenery like every day. Whenever you did not look in his direction he observed you secretly. Not in a weird way, he would never do something like that. He was just curious and you looked cute with your knitted beanie with the big bobble, cuddled up into your fluffy scarf.

Yesterday you two looked at each other for a very short moment but unfortunately, you looked away quickly. He liked your pretty face and he thought he saw your cheeks reddening when he caught you staring at him.

He would like to get you known but he would never dare to address you. He would never bother you. You seemed not to be the kind of woman he usually asked to spend the night with him. He couldn't really describe what it was but there was a special aura surrounding you. You seemed discreet…and lonely.

There was something about you that evoked his protective instinct and so he decided to return to the park and this bench daily to have a look if you might be there again, too. You radiated so much peace and kindness and it made him feel comfortable. He just wanted to see you. Nothing more.

When you arrived at the park in the early afternoon at your bench, the handsome stranger was already there again, staring at the lake. It seemed he didn't even recognize you. You had the feeling of being protected by him only through his presence. But maybe it was just your imagination or wishful thinking because he was a great, tall, noble statue of a man. You had fallen for something like this before…

Nonetheless, he has intrigued you and you were wondering why he was here every day now too, on his bench and every day at the same time…at the same time as you. This morning before you went to work you decided that today would be the day when you would address him. You had nothing to lose so you would give it a chance. Of course, he was a stranger and maybe you should not talk to him but you felt drawn to him somehow.

After half an hour of sitting on your bench, you gathered all your courage and went over to him. You felt a bit nervous because normally you would never do that. But nothing in your life was normal anymore. You knew it could be dangerous to talk to a stranger. But there were so many people here around you that you felt safe enough to talk to him. And why shouldn't two lonely people talk to each other? Could be nice, couldn't it?

"May I?" you asked the well-dressed man with the black, slicked-back long hair.

Unlike before when you just looked at him from afar, you now realized how handsome he actually was. Before today you had mostly only looked at him from the corners of your eyes because you never wanted to stare at him.

He had a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, small but seductive lips, curved into a slightly mischievous smile, a straight beautiful nose and irresistible piercing baby-blue eyes…he looked like a prince, his appearance was flawless, godly. Like every day he wore a perfectly tailored black suit, a light cashmere coat and a light-woollen scarf, just loosely wrapped around his neck.

You still wondered if the cold didn't affect him because he wore clothes like this every day.

He widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows when he looked up at you, directly into your eyes. You nearly forgot to breathe. He made you shiver with excitement.

"Of course! Please, take a seat" he answered while he rose from the bench.

His gaze softened and he made an inviting gesture with his hand. His smooth dark voice caused goosebumps on your skin under your cosy and warming clothes and you smiled at him.

"Thank you, Sir" and the both of you sat down again simultaneously, facing each other.

"You might be surprised why I'm talking to you. Normally I don't do that." You smiled at him, almost apologetically.

"Normally you don't? But now you do!" he smirked at you, seemingly amused.

"Ahhmm…I'm sorry, maybe…maybe it wasn't a good idea…ahhmm…believe me it was the last thing on my mind to inconvenience you, I'm sorry! I guess I'd better get going" and you wanted to get up and leave. How embarrassing, what had gotten into you?

"No, no young Lady, please stay!"

His deep baritone and the friendly tone in his voice stopped your want to leave. You smiled at him again but you still felt embarrassed and you felt your cheeks blushing. He was a fascinating man and his eyes seemed to stare deep into your soul. You were sure you could neither lie to a man like him nor not like him. You took a deep breath before you found your voice again.

"I recognized you being here every day like me, alone…just like me. And I thought maybe we could sit here together and talk to each other…but of course…only if you want."

"Believe me or not, I had the same thought but I would never have spoken to you. You know, I didn't mean to come at you like that."

"Oh, that's very decent, Sir. Not every man is like this" and you smiled at each other.

"I just …watched you from afar. Sounds weird, doesn't it? But I was conce–…I noticed you're coming to the park every day, too. Aren't you afraid to sit here every afternoon alone?" he asked you and his concern was genuine.

"To be honest…no! No, I'm not. There are so many people here every day in the afternoons, I feel safe so far." you explained.

"I've been visiting the park every day for months now and never something bad happened. Of course, something bad could happen every day. I also know that this city was attacked by aliens several years ago, but that's not how I want to live…every day expecting the worst, no!" and you shook your head. Bad days you've had more than enough.

"I always hope that every day will just offer the best things to me" you said thoughtfully and smiled.

"And now you are here every day…you could protect me if you want," you said to him and laughed.

"…no no, I'm just kidding, don't take me too seriously!" You smiled at him while you pulled your beanie right.

You were cute, really cute. Your smile was warming, your attitude was friendly, and you also seemed to be strong and confident…with a hint of sadness. He got to know many women and with most of them, he was intimately involved. With some of them he had also nice conversations but none of them was like you.

"I would do that immediately for you, my Lady. I would never let someone harm you."

He genuinely meant it and he gave you a friendly grin. But he was sure if you had known who he really was and what he did in the past, you would never allow him to do that.

"You're truly a gentleman…but please, I'm not a Lady…I'm y/n " and you offered him a handshake with your gloved hand, a radiant smile on your lips.

He took your hand and held your fingers with his, lifted your hand carefully upwards, bowed down his head and gave an implied kiss to the back of your gloved hand. When he lifted his head upwards again he looked into your eyes, still gently holding your hand. You swallowed thickly, nobody ever did that before. Never before had someone given you a perfect hand kiss.

"Lady y/n…I'm Loki Laufeyson. It's an honour to meet you!"

You couldn't help yourself but stare into his eyes with a slightly open mouth. You were utterly impressed by him and his manners.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Laufeyson" you answered breathlessly.

After what felt like an eternity, he softly let go of your hand. You wished he would still hold it because it felt nice.

You weren't sure but you thought you had heard his name before. You had lived and worked in Oslo for some time so it might be just a coincidence.

"Are you from Norway? Because of your name…"

"No, not really" he chuckled.

"Oh, okay, I lived and worked there for a while and that might be the reason your name sounds familiar to me" you explained and you still had the feeling you had heard his name somewhere before.

"Maybe you ought to be afraid of me!" he stated. He knew that nearly everyone still feared him.

"No, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm not afraid of you. I just dared to speak to you" and you gave him your sweet smile again.

"Should I be afraid of you?" you asked him mischievously.

"I don't know…" he answered you playfully with his deep, dark voice and it made you shiver.

His voice was like sweet honey that slowly ran down your body. Probably you would do anything he asks you for and you would just obey. You should better get rid of this weakness.

Instead of widening your eyes in fear, he seemed to seduce you. Why didn't you fear him? And he could swear you had an idea who he was.

"So we conclude that I'm not afraid of you." You smiled at him brightly again.

"If you'd have wanted to harm me you could've done it yet, you had many opportunities in the last days, didn't you?" You asked him confirming.

"Right. But what if I'm planning to do it?" He leaned his head towards you.

"What if I lied?"

His voice went more silent and deeper but his gaze remained friendly. You shivered again but not because of fear.

"Possibly you did…but if you want to harm me, even if you want to abduct me, I wouldn't mind …there won't be anyone who would actually miss me." Your gaze became more serious and sad.

"What are you saying?" He furrowed his eyebrows and gazed concernedly at you.

"No one would miss me" you murmured sadly.

"And still I'm not afraid of you…just a gut feeling, it rarely deceives me" you said, more confident again.

"There must be someone?" and he furrowed his eyebrows again.

He felt bad for you. What happened to you that you were all alone nowadays and his concern about you grew…feelings he knew but barely showed others.

"No, there's no one. It's a long story, Mr. Laufeyson" you said quietly and turned your head away from his gaze towards the lake and you changed the subject.

"It's a nice place here, isn't it? One of the best people-watching spots in the city," you said.

"Yes, it is. Indeed" he answered and looked intensely at you.

"It's kind of peaceful and it offers an escape from the hustle and bustle of the city, doesn't it?" he asked you and couldn't take his eyes off you. Somehow he felt drawn to you.

"Yes, it does...and it also offers a distraction from life…" you said, sighing.

"It's beginning to dusk…I should go home now" you said and looked at him again.

"Will you be coming back tomorrow? And I can assure you, I definitely won't harm you, I didn't lie to you."

He would never do that to you and he just wanted to see you again. And the confirmation that you were alone fueled the desire to protect you.

You looked and smiled at him again before you answered.

"I knew I could trust you. Of course, Mr. Laufeyson, like every day I'll be here again tomorrow. Same time, same place!"

"Same time, same place, my Lady."

He almost looked lovingly into your eyes, took your hand carefully and gave you an implied kiss to the back of your hand again. When he released your hand, you both stood up from the bench.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Laufeyson."

"See you tomorrow, Lady y/n."

On your way back home you couldn't stop thinking about him. Had you really had the courage to talk to a stranger? You laughed at yourself and your exuberance. You were about to make the same mistake as then…but Loki Laufeyson seemed to be different. Extremely handsome but different and with perfect manners. But no, you would never fall for someone again, it would just come to an unfortunate end again.

Loki couldn't believe what just had happened. You, one of the most beautiful women he had seen in a long time, so beautiful both externally and inwardly too so it seemed, dared to talk to him.

Did you actually say you trust him? Him? Without knowing him? You were adorable, indeed…and you were different. You were not like all the women who stood literally in a line in front of his bedroom door, you weren't nearly like them.

Of course, it confirmed his ego, that many women wanted him but it wasn't something that made him happy in life. If he was honest with himself he always searched for someone like you.

But he wasn't made for a serious relationship and to handle it this way, to only look for sexual affairs, was the best solution for him and it satisfied his carnal needs. And by the way, he knew there would never be a woman for him.

He knew there would never be someone who wanted to satisfy the undisclosed desires of his heart and his desire for genuine love. And so he went to the bar, like almost every day, where he would definitely find a willing companion for a lustful night of sex.

To be continued ...

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @fictive-sl0th

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

just a cute chapter with a little ANGST sprinkled in, your favorite

part thirteen

❝ DESCENDANTS AND A SADIE HAWKINS ❞

SUNDAY — JULY 22 — 12:47AM

"YOU OKAY, RED? You haven't said a thing since we got here,"

Bentley snapped back into reality, glancing across the table at Vera and Layla over the strawberry milkshake they convinced him to buy. He hadn't as much as sipped out of it. 

The ice cream shop hadn't been as far as he'd assumed — it was only maybe a minute off of campus, out of the most populated area of the city. A small, stand-alone parlor made to look like a diner — red tables, checkered floor, neon lights and all. Apparently that was popular, although it didn't have the waitresses-on-roller-skates thing they had going on where Georgia worked.

Ah, Georgia. The one thing he couldn't seem to stop thinking about.

"I'm fine," He murmured, running a hand through his hair to force himself back into some semblance of reality. "Last night was just... a lot. I didn't sleep much."

"I feel you. The party crew was pretty crazy," Layla commented. She had a huge banana split in front of her that was about the size of her face, while Vera had a plain vanilla milkshake that the blonde dubbed boring. Layla was wearing a sundress — pink, with tiny flowers — with her hair all curled and nice. Vera, in true Vera style, was wearing black jeans and a gray t-shirt with questionable looking symbols all over it. She had her gigantic bomber jacket in her lap.

He glanced up at her, and she was staring at him intently, brown eyes seeming to bore into his very soul.

"Don't," He ordered immediately. She blinked, lifting her hands up in surrender.

"Fine, fine,"

"I'm serious,"

"Okay,"

A moment of silence passed, and Bentley sipped his milkshake. It tasted nothing like real strawberries, but it definitely tasted like... pink, he guessed. It was good either way.

"Okay. I have an idea," Layla suggested, taking a break from vigorously mushing up her bananas into an unidentifiable sludge. "We hardly know anything about each other, really. So let's play truth or truth."

Vera glanced over at her with a deadpan look on her face. "Truth or truth?"

"Yeah," Layla announced, glancing between them. "It's like truth or dare but no dares. Just... truth. Truth or truth."

"Couldn't we just ask each other questions, then?" Vera asked.

After a moment of silence passed, Layla nodded. "Oh, yeah. I guess."

"Okay, genius, you start then,"

Bentley cringed. Being barraged with questions wasn't exactly his kind of thing — especially since about eighty-five percent of his life, between secrets and superheroes and kidnappings and the like, was off limits for sharing. (If only his father wasn't a psychotic raging supervillain. If only his dad wasn't the superhero who defeated him. Then maybe he'd have a shot at conversation.)

"Alright," Layla said, smiling lightly, averting her gaze to Bentley. "B. Have you always lived in Gotham? I heard it was scary there."

Bentley blinked once, twice, ignoring the way both of their pairs of eyes seemed to drill into his skull. "No. I used to live in another town. With my real father."

Layla hummed in curiosity. "What happened to him?"

"Layla!" Vera scolded, turning and whacking her in the shoulder. "Are you serious? You don't just ask people that!"

"Oh,"

"It's fine," Bentley murmured, spinning his milkshake cup around on the table. "He's in prison."

Silence ensued, and when he looked back up at them, Vera punched Layla again, harder. "Good job, doofus."

"It's really fine. I have no connection to him anymore," Bentley shrugged lightly, glancing between them, then down at his drink. "Except the way I look, I guess."

A moment of silence passed where Layla and Vera just looked at each other — the latter was probably scolding the former in her mind, Bentley assumed.

"Your turn," Layla stated, glancing over at him with a sort of temporarily hurt look on her face. (He wondered what Vera told her.)

He blinked a few times before he managed a couple of coherent thoughts. "Why did you guys show up to the gala if you live here?"

"That's easy," Layla replied with a sudden smile, expression flipping immediately. "Vera's aunt is like, super-mega-rich-business-woman. Vera lives with her, so when she goes out, sometimes she takes us."

Bentley glanced over at Vera, but to his surprise, she didn't do any scolding that time.

"We've been all over the place," Vera smiled lightly. "Almost all fifty states. I think North Dakota and New Hampshire are the ones we're missing."

"Wow," He breathed. Bentley couldn't imagine going to forty-eight out of fifty states. He'd only been to New Jersey and New York, and his life had been quite adventurous enough.

Vera hummed. "Your powers. You were born with them, right? Did you-"

She trailed off, apparently because Bentley did a bad job at keeping his face blank. He looked down at his milkshake as she continued: "...You're not a natural meta?"

He shrugged. There was no point in hiding things from a girl who would read his mind anyways, he guessed. Plus, his reaction had made it painfully obvious. "Nope," He deadpanned.

She and Layla shared a few wary glances. "You mean someone did this to you?" Layla muttered, slightly stunned. "I've never met a lab meta before."

Lab meta. That sounded like a nice thing to be called.

"I mean, I've definitely heard of them around school and stuff but... huh. Cool," She continued. "Do you like them? The powers?"

Again, Bentley shrugged. He'd probably have died a handful of times without them, but, in hindsight, they were typically the reason for his near-demise. Memories of being tossed around like a ragdoll and impaled in the biggest battle of his life flashed here and there, and he pushed them away with a sigh. "I guess. Not sure what I'd be doing without them."

"Does that mean Asten's were from a lab, too?" Vera questioned, and Bentley met her eyes for only a second.

"Yeah," He replied.

"Fire and water," Layla muttered. "Funny scientist."

Yeah. Funny.

Layla's phone suddenly dinged, and Bentley was thankful for it, because it took their eyes off of him. She pulled out a phone with a blindly pink case (did her dress have pockets?) and tapped on it, and within three seconds, was snapping Vera repeatedly in the arm and bouncing in her chair with this absolutely ecstatic look on her face. "V!"

"What?" Vera questioned, exasperated, shoving her hand away at the same time she was leaning toward the phone.

"The Spring Musical is Descendants three!" She exclaimed so loud some people around them turned to look. "I'm so excited!”

Vera looked at her blankly. "Last year we did Descendants one and two, Layla. Of course we're doing three."

"Don't ruin my moment. I'll get to play Evie again!"

Bentley blinked a few times, taking another sip of his milkshake. "What's Descendants?"

They both looked at him like he was utterly stupid.

"A super-cool disney franchise about the kids of supervillains turning to the good side and learning how to live there," Layla explained, almost too fast for him to understand. "I played Evie last year, in the school plays. She's my favorite! You've never seen the movies?"

Bentley hardly heard the last part. The kids of supervillains, turning to the good side and learning how to live there. That sounded oddly familiar, oddly similar to someone he knew. (Someone who's name may have started with a B and ended with an -entley.)

"Uh, no," He replied, fiddling with his straw. "I like older movies. With not so much... singing."

Vera made a painfully offended face at him. "You don't like musicals?"

He shrugged, again. "They just stand up and start singing in the middle of everything, and everyone just goes along. It's weird."

"It's the peak of cinematic experiences," Vera replied. "Layla and I audition for the school musical every year."

"Doing it in person is fine. Just not in movies,"

"Wow. Uncultured," Vera tutted, taking a sip of her milkshake. Bentley did the same, pretending that being called uncultured wasn't both completely accurate and slightly bothersome. (At least he was trying to be a normal teenager.)

"Tell me you've seen High School Musical?" Layla asked, leaning forward like it was a very important question. "At least High School Musical."

"I've seen it," He replied, a small smirk creeping onto his features at their intensity toward the situation. "Didn't like it."

Layla made a sound akin to a dramatic gasp, but a little squeakier. "I can't believe you said that."

"Oh, Layla!" Vera piped up, turning to the other girl as if she'd just remembered something and whacking her arm. She had this sort of mischievous look on her face. They seemed to whack each other a lot — it sort of reminded Bentley of Asten and Nico. "Guess what?"

"What?" Layla was quick to reply, looking over at her. "A new season of HSMTMTS is coming out?!"

"Eh, no. Well, maybe. I don't know," Vera shook her head. "Doesn't matter. What I was gonna say is Summer told me the back to school dance is a Sadie Hawkins!"

Bentley, completely oblivious to what any of that meant, said nothing. 

"A Sadie Hawkins? Wha... oh," Layla trailed off, her face turning suddenly red. "A Sadie Hawkins."

Bentley furrowed his brow. "What does that mean?"

Vera glanced over at him with a funny look on her face. "A Sadie Hawkins dance is a dance where the girls ask the guys to be their date, instead of doing it the other way around," She said, looking at Layla with a massive smirk. "It's next Saturday."

"I've never been to a school dance," He replied, glancing at his hands then back up. "Do we have to go?"

"Well, no," Vera replied with a shrug. "They're pretty fun, though. Not boring like public school ones with stupid slow music playing all night long. And you don't have to have a date or dance to go. It's pretty much a social night and free food and music if you want it to be."

Bentley hummed in acknowledgment.

"But it would be kinda good for you to go if someone asked you,"

Bentley was too busy imagining how weird going to a school dance would be that he missed the way Vera subtly elbowed Layla in the ribs.

"Yeah... it would," The blonde replied, with an additional spurt of nervous giggling.

He glanced back up at them, eyes flicking from one to the other. Layla's face was still dangerously red, and she was staring really hard at her ice cream. "Well, lucky for me, I don't think anyone's interested in the kid who had a panic attack his first day on campus."

Vera said nothing, and Layla erupted into another bout of nervous laughter.

Bentley, with a few blinks, glanced back down at his drink. Girls were really weird.

"Anyways — I'm pretty sure it's your turn," Vera stated, gesturing to Bentley but giving Layla a pointed look. "Ask away."

Bentley tapped his fingertips on the table, spinning his glass around again. "Uh... have you always gone to school here?"

"Yep. Since I was old enough. Layla, too," Vera replied. "Our families are friends with the headmistress — Summer's aunt. So we pretty much had no other choice."

Bentley nodded.

"Um..." Vera started, glancing around the restaurant. "How are you liking New York City so far?”

“I think it’s really cool. What I’ve seen of it, anyways,” He replied, swirling his straw around in his cup. “I thought Gotham was big.”

Vera chuckled. “You seem like… you’d be a farm boy. From, like, Alabama.”

Bentley scrunched his face up in protest. “What?”

“A farm boy. Y’know, with a dumb accent and straw hat. I can imagine you like that,” She replied, scanning him intently. “You don’t really scream city kid.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure what I am.”

Bentley didn’t mean for it to come out half as solemn sounding as it had, but thankfully, Vera didn’t seem to pick up on it. Her response was a snicker with a quick: “Does anyone?”

Bentley hummed in response. Did anyone? He wasn’t sure about everyone else — they all seemed to know where they were from and what they were supposed to do, how people like them were supposed to work. Everyone had a way about them. Koa was from California, and everyone could tell. Asten was from Crime Alley, and no one was ever surprised when he said it. Vera and Layla were from New York, and it was obvious.

And Bentley was just… Bentley.

—

When he got back to the dorm, a keycard, a few school supplies, and a box of uniforms had been left on everyone’s beds. 

The uniform reminded him of Gotham Academy. There were five of them in the box — consisting of seven parts each. A blazer, black with a dark green and gold crest on the left shoulder, a solid white button up, a dark green and gold sweater vest, a green and gold tie, slacks, white socks, and dress shoes. Each piece was meticulously and painstakingly crafted, probably really expensive. Bentley wondered how much money the school spent just on uniforms for all the kids there. Varian said the kaycards went to the main dorm room door — that the electric locks only engage once the school year starts so there’s no confusion for the move-in days.

After that, he and Asten struggled through a painfully long (three and a half hour), painfully lied-through call with Dick, Jason, and Bruce.

They’d basically demanded they tell them every detail of their entire two days, which mostly consisted of lies, lies, and more lies. They couldn’t tell them they’d left campus (Bentley twice), they definitely couldn’t tell them about the party, and they couldn’t tell them about the drunkenness that happened after. He wasn’t gonna tell them about the panic attack. So really, the call was pretty boring. Bentley took up most of the time by dissecting each of their roommates and explaining everything about them that he knew excruciatingly thoroughly, just to stave their curiosity. He told them about what happened with Bellamy. He told them about Varian trying to teach them phase ten.

That… was about all he could tell them.

After that excruciating call was over, he and Asten exchanged a silent moment of mutual guilt, and then Bentley went to bed feeling like nothing more than a full dumpster with a flimsy Wayne Enterprises sticker dangling off the side.

(He had the name, but what was he, really?)

Then, at five-forty-five in the morning, the day school was supposed to start, someone started screaming.

It was a terrible, gut-wrenching kind of scream that was muffled from being doors and walls away. Bentley, hardly awake, sat straight up in his bed so fast he nearly whacked his head on the top bunk.

Asten’s first instinct was to practically throw himself off the top bunk with a urgent: “B?”

A moment of pause filtered between them as Asten realized it wasn’t Bentley screaming, because Bentley was staring at him, looking pretty bewildered. They blinked at each other for a solid five seconds. Then, when logic and common sense pushed it's way through the fatigue and panic in Bentley’s head, he pulled himself out of his bed and, with a pat on the shoulder from Asten, swung the bedroom door open.

The lights were on in the living area, now, and three out of four bedroom doors were open. Koa was standing in his and Varian’s doorway, looking like he might’ve still been asleep, and Valor was in the middle of the room in nothing more than a pair of shorts. Rockie was hovering near their room, and Varian was bent over at Bellamy’s closed door, messing with the handle. They all seemed on edge, slightly panicked — and Bentley wasn’t sure if he knew it or not, but Valor’s wings kept fluttering and twitching on his back like an anxious bird.

Bellamy’s room was where the screaming was coming from.

Varian seemed to be attempting to open the door, but it wasn’t working, and Bellamy was still screaming.

Bentley jogged over to him with a curt little: “Move.”

Varian did so without argument, and Bentley turned toward the kitchen, summoning a small few threads of water from the faucet. The five of his roommates watched in silence as they twisted and turned like snakes, slithering through the air to the door and slipping right inside the lock mechanism.

Bentley listened closely, allowing the water to feel out the space inside — to weave between parts and through crevices. He listened hard to how it moved.

About five seconds later, the door unlocked with a click.

Bentley didn’t even as much as glance back at his roommates before he swung the door open just enough to fit through.

The room was dark, and Bellamy was on the bottom bunk of his bed, thrashing around like someone was attacking him. Pale, and coated with sweat, he was screaming like it, too — vague sort of half-words that sounded too much like frantic begs for mercy. He was crying in his sleep; no, sobbing, throwing his tiny shred of weight around so hard the bunk beds were moving a little. The entire bed was unmade, the sheets even yanked off of the corners, pillows and blankets and one stuffed frog all sprawled on the floor.

Bentley wasted no time kicking the door closed behind him and crouching beside the bed. “Bellamy.”

He didn’t wake, but he did have some reaction to the word — a more violent thrash and strangled scream.

Bentley reached up and grabbed one of his arms, shaking it lightly, but hard enough to wake him up. “Bellamy!”

Bellamy thrashed himself into alertness with a horrified scream, brown eyes wide and wild, flicking around the room like someone was lurking in the shadows, coming to kill him. He was catapulted into a coughing fit that seemed more like him choking on his own tears, shooting off of his back and coiling himself into an impenetrable little ball on the edge of his bed, against the wall.

“Hey — you’re awake,” Bentley tried, but he didn’t think Bellamy quite heard him — he was crying so hard it was still making him choke, and he couldn’t really seem to breathe. After a moment, his brown eyes finally locked onto Bentley’s.

He wasn’t sure if he was really cut out for this kind of thing.

Without any other words, in one sudden, jerky movement, Bellamy threw himself off the bed and collided with Bentley hard enough to nearly knock the wind out of him. Bentley wasn’t sure what was going on until he comprehended that Bellamy’s arms were around him.

“Oh,” Was his first reaction — not very helpful, he guessed. He brought his arms up and around him quickly. “It’s okay. You’re awake.”

Through the terrible crying and choking, he felt Bellamy ball up the back of his t-shirt in his hands.

“You were dead,” He mumbled almost incoherently, hiccuping over and over like little kids did after long bouts of crying. “You died right in front of me.”

Bentley exhaled heavily, rubbing Bellamy’s back lightly. “I’m here.”

Bellamy said nothing, but seemed to cling to Bentley like he would literally die if he didn’t, so Bentley just let him. Wasn’t that what he ended up doing on his second nightmare in the Manor? With Tim after he saw Tim die? He sighed and rubbed his back again.

When Bentley looked at Bellamy, he saw himself.

(Hopefully, Bellamy wouldn’t become too much like him.)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @skylathescholarly @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[miowritings]

could i request an akito shinonome x female reader where the reader is hurt (has sustained physical injuries; could be from a fight or an accident, whatever is easiest for you!!) and akito takes care of them?

thank you so much, this would totally make my day whenever you are able to complete it <3 <3

꧁“𝐁𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.!”꧂

Akito shinonome x reader

A/N: hi anon! Tysm for requesting!! So sorry i took this long but here it is! I do hope you enjoy (ʃƪ＾3＾）

Synopsis: reader purchases a pair of roller skates to school to show them off, even if she was an immature at it..

Contains: pure fluff! Can be platonic or romantic! Reader is a dumbass, pronouns arent mentioned

Last week you purchased a pair of roller skates and even better when they arrived on sunday! You could flex your new skates at school too! Even though you were an immature at roller skating you still had the confidence to do so

Just as you were getting ready to go to school, you put on your roller skates and started skating you way to school, thankfully school wasn't that far.. as you skate your way to school of course it would be obvious that you would bumped into certain objects such as the pole or plants but nevertheless you made it safe!

During lunch time you would often go around the school hallways or the school front and started practicing, of course you knew it was dangerous cause you might bump into people but you were having too fun to care! Just as you were skating you saw your classmate when you was still in elementary, you weren't that close with him but you'd still talk to him from time to time. While you were busy with your thoughts you didn't notice how akito was staring at you, he gave you a simple wave and was a but disappointed when you didn't wave back, that's when he knew that you were spacing out, he looks ahead and saw a pillar on your way, he quickly yells to get your attention.

"[Y/N]! Move!" He yells, causing you to focus your attention back at skating, you quickly noticed the pillar and tried to slow down your pace but none was working, you noticed this and tried to skate away from the pillar, surprisingly it worked, or so you thought, you quickly landed onto some bushes, how embarrassing.. thankfully.. the bush's leaves were there to cover you.

Akito quickly comes up to you and helped you get up. "You okay?" He asked, you quickly nodded and tried to shrug it off, you were still embarrassed to the fact that someone saw it "y-yeah.. im fine.!" You replied, akito looks up and down at you, a look of concern visible on his face. "Let me atleast help you.! You have an injury on your knee, your elbow, and a scar on your cheek.." he points out, you reluctantly nodded for his assistance, just as he was helping you walk to the clinic you quickly stopped him "w-wait, lets not go to the clinic.." you suggests, he quickly looked confused "why? Your clearly injured and you need treatment for that" he responded, you shook your head "i know.. but I just received my roller skates and they'll probably confiscate it.." you added, ofcourse he felt bad for you so instead of going to the clinic, he quickly made you sit on a nearby bench "stay here kay? Im gonna get some bandaids from the clinic" he added "oh, okay" you nodded and watched him rush to the clinic.

After a few minutes he came back with some bandaids, bandaid wrap, cotton and alcohol, he sat down with you and started treating you. You notice how it was.. silently awkward so why not strike up a conversation? "Wow.. didn't know you know how to do this.." you say awkwardly, akito chuckles a bit "its basic knowledge.. or maybe you dont know how to do it too" he replied playfully, causing you to chuckle as well. "Hey, i do know how to treat wounds.!" You reply playfully, akito sighs and shook his head. "Why'd you even bring your roller skates.. do you even know how to skate properly?" He asked, you shook your head awkwardly "careful.. it will sting.." he added "what- ow.!" You hissed, the alcohol on your bruised elbow surely did sting. "Hey, be gentle with it" you added "i am! I cant control the alcohol's stinginess.!" He replied playfully. Akito gently wrapped some bandaid on your knee and elbow and placing a bandaid onto your cheek. "Be careful next time kay?" He stated while you nodded your head in reply, akito stood up and stretched for a moment "did you atleast bring some extra shoes with you?" He asked, you laughed and quickly shook your head "haha! No" you replied, akito sighs. "Well.. guess im stuck with you then.. come on, get up" he says as he helped you stand up "it still hurts when i stand, but i'll manage" you shrugged, akito shook his head "no, no.. ill help you walk to your class.. you dont look like your capable of walking there" he added, you sigh and nodded "fine, fine" you replied taking his hand to support you when you stand up.

"Wheres your classroom by the way?" He asks "oh, just on the third floor" you shrug

"fuck.."

[reidslovely]

In a Corner I Haunt: Everybody Moved On (Chapter Two)

ch. 1 (currently being edited)

I did not intend on this little angst piece becoming a bigger idea, but here we are. Currently there is no graphic content, bur this series will eventually contain smut so I’m asking for solely an 18+ audience. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!OC

Word Count: 3k

Series Warnings: Cheating, Thoughts of cheating, Smut, Angst with semi happy ending, Divorce, Discussion of parental depth, Mentions of past domestic abuse, Neglecting spouse, Cursing, Peter on the verge of a nervous breakdown. More to add. 

Chapter Warnings: Description of love interest, Love interest is given nickname, Implied thoughts of cheating, chapter is pretty diff Peter heavy. 

please reblog and/or comment

There was a girl who sat in the west courtyard of ESU on Saturday, Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday and occasionally Friday his sophomore year. She sat under the same tree since the start of the spring semester, the old cherry blossom tree that was right off the path Peter skated everyday towards Dr. Octavius’ lab. On the weekdays she had her laptop snug in her lap with whatever it seemed she could get from the campus cafe, her favorite seemed to be a Matcha Latte with some type of croissant sandwich. On weekends she sat there enjoying the warmer days with a book, or sitting in a cardigan working on her laptop.

On some days Peter found himself walking past, and walking slower to really capture her and her beauty. On occasion he thought about stopping and talking to her. Asking her about what book she was reading this time, or what it was she was typing away on. However, according to his friends that would be stalkerish, giving away that he had been watching her quite a bit over the last few weeks. That girls liked to be met organically, without being watched beforehand. So here he was camera in hand, swallowing his words in his throat as he approached her.

“Photo for the ESU Daily?” He whispered nervously, his words slewing out in one big word.

“Do we take random photos for the Daily now?”

“Oh well, it’s this piece I’m working on about students who take their..their work outside.” The lie seemed perfect to him, no flaws, the best and most calm lie he’s ever told.

“I’ve never seen you in the writing room.”

What.

“Mhm, what?”

“I’m a writer at the daily.”

“Oh..” Peter’s eyes shifted around uncomfortably, clearing his throat and opening his mouth to defend himself.

“But I have seen you in the darkroom. You’re Parker.”

“Peter..Parker. Peter Parker.” He thrusted his hand into her face smiling. She smiled, choking on a laugh, taking his hand and shaking it.

She looked up at him, giving him her name with a sweet smile. Her eyes setting a part of his soul on fire, he was sure of it. There was a softness that grew in the pit of his stomach as he looked down at her.

“Not to make this awkward but do you stare at all the people you’re interested in from a distance or just a select few.”

“Oh you noticed that.” He laughed, his hand coming up to tuck his hair back and scratch his neck out of embarrassment. “Select few. You should feel really flattered.”

“Good, I do.” Her laugh echoed in his ears, settling into a part of his brain and making a home in his memory already. “Do you want to..I don’t know have a seat.”

Peter physically restricted himself from sitting next to the girl, he knew he’d be so late and Otto would maybe actually kill him this time.

“I would really love to, but I’m about to be late and if we are gonna have a..seat together I’d like to be alive for it.” Quickly, Peter scribbled his phone number down onto a gum wrapper he found in his pocket. Handing it to her. “Here is my number, you can call me and we can like, meet tonight or whenever at that uh- italian place up the block.”

“Leo’s?”

“Yeah that one is perfect.” He smiled as he ran backwards away from her. His cheeks burning red, he wondered if his smile was still noticeable to her. Peter turned around taking off towards Otto’s lab, jumping up out of excitement. His other commitments would have to wait till after this date.

Tears hung in Peter's eyes today, his stomach had crawled its way up his throat. He looked at that same tree today, hands dug deep in his pockets. He had decided to take a small detour on his way to pick up his daughter from the English department. He approached the tree that still stood in the west courtyard; tall and barren from the cold season. It felt like a laugh in his face. An evil metaphor crawling out of the shadows at him, showing him what he had thrown away. He reached out letting his finger draw over the initials carved poorly into the tree. It was a silly thing he did for her on their two month anniversary, forever commemorating their meeting spot, thinking that one day he’d bring her back here and purpose. Coward.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzz..

Peter dug his hands around in his pockets grasping at his phone, finally getting it in his palm. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“Alice, sorry I’m on my way now I just got stuck on the subway. Camilia  excited?” He asked as he cut through the west courtyard heading towards the Lee English Hall.

“Well she’d be a little bit more excited if her daddy were on time.”

“I know I just ran into a old friend, and then I got caught-”

“I do not care Pete,” Her brief scoff was heard on the other side. He knew it was not directed at him. She was really stressed with her first year teaching. “I just need you to get here so I can teach my one o’clock lecture baby, please.”  

“Gotcha, headin’ your way now.” Peter hummed slowly, pushing through students on the sidewalk mouthing apologies. “I love..” the dial tone rang loudly in his ear. “You.” He sighed, pocketing his phone and continuing his walk.

Had this been a couple years ago he would be skateboarding through these people not worried about what they thought of him, he missed being young and non caring. Peter looked at the couples eating outside on the benches and suddenly he remembers being that boyfriend bringing his girlfriend lunch between classes. Rushing kisses, and rushing through lunch, skipping out on the last bit of Otto’s lecture and lab work to get to the journalism building as fast as possible. He remembers her surprising him during lab hours with dinner, they would sit and enjoy one another's company till early morning hours. Then they’d pick whose place to go back to, then she’d fall asleep on her shoulder the subway ride back.

He has a beautiful life now, but now he can’t even begin to think about what his life with her could have been like. He could have had Camilia  with his girl, they could have gotten engaged that night had he just not gotten cold feet. Peter shook his head pulling himself out of his selfish and insane thoughts, and suddenly he was in front of Lee Hall where the English department was. He sighed walking around the back entrance where the offices were located, and muscle memory carried him the rest of the way down the hall.

“Daddy!”

The voice piped up as Peter pushed open the office door, Alice smiled at her daughter and it slowly disappeared off her face as she looked at Peter. He took his daughter into his arms as she climbed up his side.

“Got everything ready?” Peter asks, kissing his little girl's head. “We gotta go see grandma May. Then we are gonna go get ice cream, and then we are..off to the science museum” Peter spoke in a theatrical voice, making his daughter smile. He grabbed her, lifting her up, moving her around like a rocket shooting off. Alice stares at the two, a smile on her face directed only at their daughter.

“Peter, can you take that outside please. I’d like for my office to not be destroyed. You two get too rowdy, and it always ends up with something broken.” She sighed, blowing her daughter a kiss goodbye.

“Momma ‘s not our fault.” Camilia says, her annunciation falling short due to her missing teeth.

“No baby it’s not. It's daddy’s for passing on all those awesome spider powers to you.”

Though she says it like a compliment, Peter can hear the passive aggressiveness lacing his wife's voice. It would be a lie to say it isn’t pushing a knife deeper into his stomach, his sweet girl would never have referred to him this way. So dismissive, inciting that he was a problem to her life. He shook his head and put on a smile, kissing his daughter's head. “Bye Allie, say bye momma.”

“Bye momma.” Cami waved as Peter carried her out of the office, her spider-man backpack thrown over his left shoulder.

“Okay daddy?” Camilia asked, looking up at him, her big doe eyes reflecting himself in them. Peter smiled down at his daughter, the metaphorical knife leaving his gut.

“I am perfect, Cami. How about you, are you good- wanna walk?”

“No, wanna stay here.”

She says watching the people pass by them, Peter smiles as he approaches the subway station heading down the steps. He looks down at his daughter and back ahead of the hoards of people ahead of them. He thinks that he could do this on his own, he thinks about the life he and his daughter would have had he just held out for a bit longer, and he thinks about her again. Then the doors of the subway open, and he steps on bringing himself back down to reality as his daughter talks to him about all the animals she saw on her way to ESU this morning and for the next couple hours he’s content living in this bubble. Once his daughter dozes off on his shoulder he thinks about his sweet girl once more, wondering if her number is still the same. He contemplates calling her, begging her for one last touch. Begging to have her one more time, begging her to be the mother to his child. Promising to change, to not pull back at the last second this time. Then the cart jolts, and he catches his daughter in his arms remembering the man he is.

…

May’s house is just the same as it has been for decades, except now for the first time in about 20 years there are toys scattered on the floor once again and he walks into the house surrounded by the scent of cookies.

“Nana!” Camilia yells running to the kitchen as soon as Peter put her down. Peter heard May’s gasp followed by a groan as she reached down to pick the little girl up.

“Hi May!” Peter smiled walking to the kitchen putting his keys and Camilia’s bag down on the counter.

“Hi babies.” May says kissing Camilia’s head and reaching up to kiss Peter’s cheek. Peter smiled letting his hand rest on her back. “Oh Cami let those cool.” Peter says, reaching his hand out to catch his daughter before she could grab the hot cookies.

“Okay..” She sighs, wiggling out of May’s arms, landing on her feet as she hits the ground.

“Oh she stresses me out when she does that. She gets that from you.” May laughs, wagging a finger at Peter, watching Camilia grab her bag running to the living room.

“I know I apparently gave her all her negative traits.”

“Oh who says that?” May questions, pulling the cookies off the sheet and putting them on the plate.

“Alice.”

“Well..” May points the spatula at him like she’s about to say something profound. “Oh well, maybe I shouldn’t say that.”

“No, no, let's hear it.” Peter laughs his hand on his cheek.

“Alice has more negative traits coming out her tuchus than you have in your whole body. Which one of you started fighting crime at eighteen years old, and which one of you got your daddy to pay your way through college mhm?”

May was never a fan of Alice. May was a very big fan of his sweet girl, she adored her and he knows the two still frequently talk during holidays and other times just when they feel like it. May was more devastated about their break up than he was at the time. Which couldn’t prepare him for what her reaction was about to be.

“I saw her today.”

May’s jaw dropped, as did the spatula landing on the linoleum floor. “Oh my gosh how was it, how was she? How do you feel?”

“She looked..beautiful as ever, the same as the day I left her. Older now obviously but, it was like looking at a ghost.” Peter laughed. “I got so overwhelmed..now I can’t get her out of my head, May. I just, I’m so wrapped up in what could have been. I made a mistake. I think I made a big mistake.”

“I told you that five years ago..you’re just like your uncle. Goes in one ear and right out the other until you’re ready. I swear..” May shook her head laughing, putting a cookie in Peter’s hand and several on a plate for Camilia. Peter’s lips pushed into a bittersweet smile and he nodded, his aunt was right.

“Cami, come get your snack.” Peter says. Camilia runs in and leaves so fast it’s like she never even entered the room. Peter watched her sit on the couch TV blaring to where she couldn't hear.

“You calling that little girl a mistake?”

“No, just my marriage.” It was a loaded statement. Peter had asked Alice to marry him after only six months and impulsive night after attending a friend's wedding. There was no ring, just this intense pressure to settle down and do it soon. “Camilia made it better, for a while. We both love her, we just..haven’t loved each other in quite a while.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I know.” May says. “I tried to warn you several times leading up to the wedding. Even on your wedding day. This is not love Peter. This is infatuation, infatuation wears off.”

“I thought you were just saying that because you wanted me to marry your girl.”

“My girl” was what May used to call her. Peter thought it was cute, May always wanted a daughter and she became that by extension of Peter. But he always called her angel. He couldn’t place why or how that nickname came around. Maybe because she was, to him, some type of divine entity that came to him to pull him out of that dark place. Whenever speaking to her or about her it was always angel this, angel that.

“Well..it was partially that too but I never liked Alice. She never liked me. She wouldn’t let me give you a way at your wedding because I wasn’t your biological mother and that only women are given away. Oh that made me so mad I coulda hit her, but I reframed, I kept my mouth shut.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen t’ya May.”

Peter says, reaching his hand across, holding her hand. “You are my mother. Biological or not you raised me, you know this. I wish you had told me before today, I don’t think I would have gone through with the wedding.”

“Sweet to say but you would have.”

Peter tilted his head holding his aunt's hand reassuringly. “Are you gonna see her again?” May asks.

“I’m not sure. I’d like to. I dunno if she…would want to see me again.”

“Well you didn’t hear this from me, but I don’t think she’d be too disappointed in hearing from you again.”

“Thanks May. You always know what to say.”

Peter smiled hugging his aunt kissing her head. His heart settling into his chest again felt right, and knew what to do but his brain was still screaming at him. “Come on, living room. Let’s see what Paw Patrol is up to today.”

Peter grabbed their drinks and the plate following into the living room, both of them sitting on either side of Camilia. Angel still lingering in the back of his mind.

…

May almost kept them the whole day, if Peter hadn’t caught his watch when he did he would have missed general admissions to the museum. Peter practically had to drag Camilia away from May, her begging to stay the night. Peter promised that he would message Alice about it to make sure it was okay after they got out of the museum.

“Are we gonna see the big t-rex?”

“Of course we will Cami, I’d be a terrible daddy to not let you see the dino.”

“You really would be.”

Peter laughed and rubbed his daughter's head ruffling her brown curls as they walked the steps to the science museum. “Up!” She demands whispering a please at the end, Peter caved lifting her up carrying her on his shoulders.

Showing the woman at the door their tickets, Peter smiled gratefully at her. As they walked in Camilia’s gasp could be heard, Peter smiled his eye catching what she was looking at. In the center of the room stood a banner for the new dinosaur exhibit and a small skeleton of a velociraptor next to a statue of one.

“He was about as big as you are honey.” Peter laughs.

“Cool.” Camilia smiles, her hands drumming on top of her fathers head in excitement. Peter laughed, reaching a hand up to stop her patting her small hands reassuringly. A voice rang out behind him that made him stop in his tracks.

“Picture for the Bugle?” His angel's voice rang out behind him, Peter turned around hugging his daughter's leg.

“Peter.” She smiles, she was dressed differently than what she had been earlier at the restaurant. Her brown hair clipped back out of her face, eyes looking up at him like they never lost him.

“Angel.” He whispers.

Her head tilted to the side like a dog hearing its owner's voice. She laughed, dropping her shoulders. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. I was starting to think you forgot about that name.”

“Never.”

She looked at the little girl on his shoulders. “This must be the sweet Camilia you were telling me about earlier.”

“This is yes. Camilia this is-”

“Angel.” Camilia states.

“Sure yeah, we were old friends in college.”

She was almost your mother.

He refrains from speaking.

Angel smiles lifting her camera snapping a photo of the pair, Peter smiles looking past the camera and to her.

“Perfect, that's gonna go on the front page.” She hums, Peter looks confused. “Jameson put me in charge of the opening of the dinosaur exhibit and I’m writing a piece about it.”

“Since when did Jameson stop caring about hard hitting news?”

‘Since I begged him to let me make the dinosaur exhibit front page this week, and the museum is paying him to do it.”

“Now that sounds like him.”

It’s silent for a moment and Peter feels all his emotions building up like vomit in his throat, no way to stop it.

“Do you like dinos, Angel?”

Camilia asks looking down at the lady, Peter smiles, pulling his daughter off shoulders holding her to be eye level.

“I do.”

Before Peter could stop himself, the words fell out of his mouth. “You should walk it with us. Cami could easily be our tour guide.”

“You know what I’d love too.”

“Great.”

Peter nodded at her, as soon as the words left him Camilia’s feet hit the ground. her hand grabbing Peter and Angel’s, smiling up at them as she begins to drag them into the start.  Angel’s smile lit his insides on fire just like at the restaurant, just like all those years under the tree on the west courtyard at ESU.

This could only end in one big glass shattering way, as it did all those years ago.

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