#“anybody home”?“ I ask knocking on it again

[gravegoer]

Sevika is on the council now, GO.

Council member Sevika

thank you for this ask ive been WAITING for this !!! i love council member sevika (the only council member with a lip piercing)

masterlist (comment to be on my taglist)

You fought in that war with Sevika. You had her back, and she had yours.

At the end of that day, you went home together, injured, and exhausted.

The war had ended, but at the cost of so many losses. Peace was finally in sight.

Until enforcers knocked at your door. Sevika snapped at them, telling them to "Fuck off." But they had to be here for a good reason, right? Right.

Sevika was an important figure to Zaun. People believed in her. She is loyal to all Zaunites. that's a trait not many people have. So, of course, the council wanted her. The enforcers were there to deliver that important message

She growled at them, telling them to leave. You knew she needed time to think, even though in the back of your mind, you already knew what her decision was.

You waited an hour or so for her in bed, hearing her grunts of frustration and her pacing around the living room.

It pained you to not go comfort her but you knew this was a decision she needed to make on her own.

Sevika entered the room with a determined expression. She kneeled at your bedside and put a larger hand on yours.

"I know this is going to be a change, and you might be upset but—"

"Im so proud of you, Sevika." Your eyes glimmered with hope.

Her brows furrow at your words, and you reach up to rub the crease from her expression. "You've made it so far. You're going to do so well." She is the voice of Zaun and speaks for you all.

You know there couldn't be a better person for that position. With Sevikas loyalty, she would never make a move to put the undercity in jeopardy.

Her eyes soften at your encouragement. It's all so new to her. She knew it was going to be a hard start, but not as hard knowing you had her back. You would always be there with open arms at the end of the day.

At that thought, you hold her warm face between your hands, and she closes her eyes at your touch. She's exhausted but still relents. That's one of the things you admired about her.

That night, you held her head to your chest, comfortingly. She deserved no less. Your fingers raked through her hair gently. Her heavy arm was draped over your waist softly, and your sweet voice lulled her to sleep. There was a long day ahead of her.

In the morning, she was more affectionate than usual, kissing your forehead before she got dressed. (And then again after). Laying her head on your shoulder as you finished up your breakfast. Hugging you from behind tightly while you brushed your teeth.

She was nervous, and this was the first time you saw her this way. Albeit not the last. But it was weird seeing Sevika, who was oh-so-big-and-strong get worked up over this.

People eyed you both on your walk there. She didn't make eyecontact with anybody and stared straight ahead with a firm look. Unlike her, you waved and smiled at some curious people, holding onto Sevikas arm.

When you got to the most important building in Piltover, she insisted that you walk her into the council meeting room. At first, you refused, but at her defeated and almost scattered look, you relented.

Even though you knew it would be hard to see with the topsiders, you knew it was for the best. The council members eyed you as you stood in the doorway with Sevika. You gave her an encouraging look, and she put a hand on your shoulder, lovingly, before stepping past you.

Taking a step back, the doors shut, and you waited for her on the other side.

Sevika was a part of the worlds new beginnings. Even though she held an important role amongst the people, she could argue that your role was more important.

You kept her sane through it all.

i absofreakinglutey love council member sevika in all her 5 second screentime glory !! and i will definitely be writing for her so look out for that in the future..

[blueandyellow7]

the problem with mike wheeler is that I can never truly tell if he's got several complex thoughts swarming his brain constantly or if it's just darkness and wii music up there

[morganbritton132]

Piggybacking off this post of mine.

I think it’s hilarious if every member of Hellfire secretly thinks that Steve is an alright guy. No one ever mentions it because Eddie would be unbearable if he found out that they didn’t hate every jock (even the one he has a crush on). The ranting would never stop.

Like one time during Grant’s freshman year, he was getting his bike out of the rack when Steve stopped to tie his shoe. He casually says, “Just so you know, Tom- some upperclassmen like to steal the screws on freshie’s bikes. A kid last year ate shit and knocked out three teeth.”

Totally saved him from what could’ve been an embarrassing accident because every screw in his bike had been loosen to the point of nearly falling out.

The next day, Steve winked at him in the hallway like they had a secret and Grant felt totally normal about it.

There are two things Jeff knows about his step-dad: (1) he likes to restore old cars in their driveway, and (2) he keeps trying to get Jeff to help him with it. Jeff does not want this. He hates cars. It’s boring.

The one day, he gets home from chess club and Steve Harrington is standing in his driveway, holding a flashlight while his step-dad works under the hood. He’s wearing running shoes and the little shorts Eddie is always lusting over, and Jeff is…fully confused.

He doesn’t even say anything, just goes inside.

Then on Saturday, Jeff wakes up fully prepared with an excuse on why he can’t work on the car, but Steve Harrington is in his driveway again with the hood of his BMW up. When he looked out the window later, he can see Steve’s feet sticking out from under the junker.

Two weeks go by and Steve keeps making appearance in his driveway, but no one is asking Jeff to work on the car so. He fully accepts that he walked into the Twilight Zone and never mentions it to anybody.

[luveline]

carmy! i have a request, it’s so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and he’s like but i’m the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know… arms 👀)

—Carmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5k 

“Fucking asshole,” Richie mutters as the door swings closed. 

Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness —it’s not as though he doesn’t swear like a starved sailor every other sentence. 

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesn’t find. 

He’s taken to hiding them in the office. He’d love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasn’t Richie’s at all, but Carmy’s. He isn’t ever planning on having that conversation, so he’s trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again. 

“Fucking– you didn’t just hear that guy?” Richie asks, scowling. 

Carmy scowls back. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. What the fuck do you think?” 

It’s slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. “Some asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.” 

Carmy clocks back in fully. “What?” 

Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. It’s not that you’re moody, but you’re always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. I’m fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, I’m just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place. 

“Where do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?” 

Carmy's eyes widen. “She’s crying?” 

Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. “Yeah,” he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, “I told her to go sit in the office until she’s feeling better.” 

Carmy pauses. “Should I go look in?” he asks. 

“Duh, Carmen. You’re the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!” He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. “I’m fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.” 

Carmy doesn’t know what that means. Richie says it like it’s obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? You’ve known everybody here far longer than you’ve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably don’t want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? You’re smart, and you’ve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didn’t get the right training, and you’re defensive (again, like everybody here). 

Carmy’s almost positive you’re gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesn’t know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe he’s buying time; you’ll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he won’t have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while he’s so busy trying to work himself out.

You sniff, muffled, like  a sleeve is held over your face. “Hello?” you ask. 

Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesn’t ask before stepping into the room. You can’t say no if he doesn’t ask, and you don’t, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” 

“No, no, you can come in here,” he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. “You can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?” 

You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. You’re at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. You’ve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe that’s falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw. 

“I’m fine,” you say. 

Carmy doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. “Over napkins?” 

“Said I’m s’posed to put napkins in the bag,” you say, a monotony to your voice that’s forced and weak at once. “‘Cos I’m a fucking idiot, right, who doesn’t put napkins in the bag?” You sniffle. “Whatever. Richie said he can’t come back.” 

“He can’t,” Carmy says quickly. 

He fails to follow it up. There’s an idiot in the office, for sure, and it’s not you. 

Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupid’s bow. “I’m fine.” 

“You can be upset,” he says. “This job’s… hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didn’t do.”

You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off. 

“What can I do?” he asks finally.

He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesn’t know why you’re still crying. 

Maybe he does. Carmy doesn’t usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs. 

“I’m fine, Carmy,” you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair.  

He scratches a hand through his hair. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

“You don’t have to anything.” 

“Richie said I’m the only person who can make you feel better.” 

“You’re just the only guy who ever shouts at me,” you tease, sniffling softly as you do. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at anyone, but he does. You’ve never cried. He wouldn’t yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, it’s just that yelling’s like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesn’t help. 

“So what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?” Carmy asks. 

You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. “Like you could beat somebody up. You’re all bark and no bite, Berzatto.” 

Sure. And he’s a loser, he’s more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesn’t know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV. 

“Come here,” he says, holding his arm out insistently. “C’mere.” 

He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. He’s a little shocked too. 

“Richie knew the guy, right?” Carmy asks. 

“He said he’s banned for life.” 

“Okay, great.” Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. He’s the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.

You smell… really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if he’s awake enough, so he can tell you’re wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears. 

Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side. 

He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and you’re looking at him steadily.

“That was really weird,” you say. 

He panics, stepping away from you, “Fuck. Fuck, sorry.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.” 

“Dick,” he says. 

You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better. 

“I better go tell Richie I’m okay,” you say. “Don’t you have a stock to reduce?” 

“Oh, you mean your stock?” he asks. 

Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place you’d been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip.  

He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing. 

“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.

[multifandoms4]

Annoying

Oscar Piastri x Norris!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Oscar tend to get on your brother’s nerves when you show PDA. Here are a few instances of that.

Word count: 700+

The first time it happened, it was a weekend off from racing, so you, Lando and Oscar decided to spend some time together and hang out. Y’all are currently playing Mario Kart and you are beating both of them. “For guys who drive race cars for a living, y’all suck at Mario Kart.” You tease them. Lando rolled his eyes and Oscar laughed at you. “Oh hush.” He retorted.

After you beat them once again, you decide to eat some takeout for dinner and watch a movie. You and Oscar are cuddled up on one couch while Lando is on the other. He looks over to see Oscar peppering your face in kisses. “I’m gonna vomit.” He says out loud and you start laughing. Oscar is soon to follow with the laughing. “Is someone feeling lonely over there?” You ask your brother teasingly. He rolls his eyes “No, but I still don’t want to see that.” He says with disgust.

“Oh boo. I just want to show my girlfriend some affection.” Oscar tells him. You giggle as him and Lando go back and forth with each other, all in friendly banter. “Do you plan on staying the night?” You ask Lando. He thinks about it for a moment and says he is going to. You get up and get the guest room ready.

~On a race day~

Another time you annoyed your brother was on a race day. You are standing in front of Oscar, he has his arms around your waist and his head resting on top of yours. Y’all really aren’t doing anything to crazy but Lando makes a gagging noise and pulls you away from Oscar. “No touching. I don’t want to see that.” You suppress a laugh and tell him to get over it. You go back to Oscar and give him a hug. They get called to go to their cars.

You lean up and give him a kiss and wish him good luck. You go to give Lando a hug and he is glaring at Oscar. “Calm down Lando, he’s my boyfriend and we are going to kiss.” “I still don’t like it. You’re my little sister, you’re not supposed to be kissing anybody.” He mutters. You shake your head and wish him good luck. You know he is giving you a hard time and doesn’t mean any harm by it.

~Time skip~

Today marks the two year anniversary since you and Oscar started dating. You are a little upset because Oscar has to work and is in another country at the moment. He called you earlier to say happy anniversary and it made you so happy. You go about your day and around dinner, you hear a knock on the door. Lando is standing there with a bouquet of flowers. “Special delivery.” He says. You laugh at him, knowing Oscar put him up to this. “I thought y’all were gonna be gone all week? And how much did he pay you to do this?”

“We got done early and moved some stuff around and he didn’t have to pay me anything. Just promised to keep the PDA to a minimum around me.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at him. “So where is Oscar right now?” You ask. “Just get ready to go. We are leaving in an hour.” He tells you. You put the flowers in a vase and hurry to get ready.

An hour later and Lando is taking you to the spot you and Oscar had your first official date. He is standing on the overlook with a blanket and a basket. You thank your brother and get out to go to Oscar. When you reach him, you pull him into a kiss “Happy anniversary, baby!” You say. “Happy anniversary!”

Lando rolls down the window, “I’m still here. Would it kill you two to wait till I’m gone?” He teased. You shrug your shoulders. “It actually might dear brother. Now go away, I want to spend some time with Oscar today.” He waves and drives off. “Even after all this time we’ve been together, the slightest amount of PDA still annoys him.” Oscar laughs at your comment. “I don’t think that will change.” He responds and you agree. Dinner goes well and you watch the sunset together before you head back home for the night.

[taiyaakii]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Forbidden ! . . . ( 西村力 )

01. Style 운명 . Drabble 02. CONTAINS: Fighting, reader comes from a kinda bad home but it's not specified how, Riki's parents (his mom mainly) don't like reader euhhhh ! 03. wc ! 612

"It's not her fault! How often do I have to say that, you're blaming her for something that's not even her fault!" Riki shouted back at his mom

It was unusual for everyone in the house, Riki was close to his mom, so the constant fighting was a change "Riki I'm not going to tell you again... I don't like her. Okay? I do not like her."

Riki rebutted quickly "Why? What did SHE do to make you hate her so much? Not what her parents did, what did SHE do."

"Maybe SHE didn't do anything directly but Riki you need to understand when someone is raised like that, in a bad home, they carry those habits, they repeat them, and she is going to turn out no better than her mother." The room was silent, Riki was stunned, to say the least

He had never heard his mom talk that way, about anybody

As tension filled the air, Riki's expression became blank.

He turned around and started heading for the door, shoes already on as he barely got to his room after school before his mom started questioning him

"Riki get back here! We aren't don-" Her voice mumbled by the now shut front door

Riki knew he was fucking up his relationship, but he couldn't just stand by while his mom talked shit about you, that's not fair and it's not how he was raised

The walk to your house was quiet, spent in solitude as he thought of the excuse he would use this time

"Bad grades"

"Forgot to clean up after myself, again"

"Got into a fight with my sister"

No, none of them would work. He used a multitude of excuses as to why he got kicked out every time he'd ask to stay at your house, while the truth was, he was walking out on his own

But he couldn't tell you that 'cause then he'd have to explain why, then he'd have to explain the fight, which would lead to you figuring out why he's refused to let you meet his mom, which in turn, would make you upset, and he refuses to make you upset

Plus if you did know, you'd probably break up with him in fear of getting between him and his mom's relationship.

It's a shame you're so sweet

-

Stepping onto your front porch, he knocked, and as you let him he questioned if anyone was home besides you, to which you replied "No" like always

Now on your bed playing with his hair as he lays on your chest, you question "What did you do this time? Hmm??"

He thought for a second "I uh, got an F on my math test" He had already used this one a few times but it always worked so another time wont hurt

"Again??..."

He sighed "yeah." Pushing his head further into your neck

You sighed and kissed his head, ending the conversation there as you cuddled him tight, slowly drifting off into sleep, "I love you kiki" you mumbled

"I love you too my baby" (ew cheesy)

As much as Riki loves his mom, he can't stand hearing her talk so badly about the one person who makes him feel so loved and happy.

Maybe one day he'll tell you truth as to why he get's "Kicked out" so often, maybe one day you and his mom will meet, and she'll realize just how lovely you are, maybe she'll realize that despite everything, you're the sweetest kindest person, and that you truly make him happy.

But until then, he'll just have to keep making excuses as to why he got kicked out.

@taiyaakii

Im sorry this isnt very good, i wrote it quickly with no real story in mind >.<

[tj-is-down]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Tyler Owens x Reader)

Back again with another random fic for y'all. This is not proofread, so don't hate me!

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been on and off "together" for years now, keeping it secret. Until, suddenly, one of them decides they might want more.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: None except some swearing, and reader is described femininely in this one.

Here’s the thing about Humble Creek: everybody knows everybody. A small town made up of just under five thousand, there was nothing that anybody could do in secret, because if one person knew, then it was just as if they’d taken a bullhorn and announced it to the entire town.

Which made Y/N’s life all the harder. See, she did have a secret, and although it hadn’t gotten out yet, its secrecy was held in the hands of a monster. A tyrant, a tool, a pain-in-the-ass douchebag with a cowboy hat and a Texas accent.

Tyler Owens.

Y/N had known he was trouble since they were kids. Growing up on rival ranches, they were destined to be enemies, and even more so, to blur the lines. Y/N had never trusted him. Not because their families were constantly fighting, as she believed everybody deserved their own chance to prove themself, but because he had fucked his up, royally. 

In elementary school, middle school, high school, Tyler was always the talk of the town. Always with a girl on his arm, Tyler was confident, and everybody else was just putty in his hands. Y/N told herself she didn’t understand what people saw in him. 

She lied.

It started in eighth grade, when Tyler showed up in a too-big tux and a bouquet of flowers he’d handpicked from his family’s garden.

“You wanna go to the dance?” He asked, grinning cockily. Even then he knew how to charm, before he even knew what charm was.

Y/N’s dad had said no, absolutely no way, but Y/N was in her rebellious phase and so this only pushed her to say yes. She went out right then, in her mud-stained t-shirt and jeans, and they’d walked to the school together at seven p.m. and walked home together at nine. He’d kissed her cheek goodnight and she’d wiped it off, embarrassed.

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“And you’re pretty, L/N.”

On the next Monday he came to school with Cherry Lee.

Y/N tried to be mad. She tried to hate Tyler, to swear that she’d never talk to him or think about him or even look at him ever again. But two months later, when Tyler and Cherry broke up, he’d knocked on her door when he knew her parents weren’t home and, against her better judgment, she’d let him inside.

They’d been on-and-off “together” ever since.

Now, Tyler wasn’t single for long intervals, usually just a couple of weeks here and there, and he would never cheat, nor would Y/N let herself become a homewrecker (no matter how fragile the relationship), but when Tyler showed up on her doorstep, bouquet in hands and that look in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no. 

She was an adult now, but still, she couldn’t resist those eyes. Tyler had been single since before leaving for college, and when he came back it was like he’d never left. Sure, now he had a truck, a big name, a crew, and a YouTube channel, but he still had those eyes, and his family still had a garden with a never-ending supply of flowers.

He showed up on her door one morning, after her parents had left for church.

“Can I help you?” She asked, opening the door. As always, a t-shirt and jeans, dirty from the morning’s work on the farm.

“You’re not at church?”

“You knew I wouldn’t be.”

“Well, maybe the two and I can practice praying on our own? I think the first step is kneeling down; you wanna start?”

Y/N went to close the door, but Tyler’s hand reached out to prop it open.

“Come on, Darlin’,” he said, laying the accent on thick. “You want to go for a drive? I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“Hold the coffee,” she said, walking past him. “I’d rather not have anyone see us together.”

He grabbed her waist and stood behind her, kissing her neck. “We’ve been doing this for years, babe. No one’s gonna find out, I promise.”

She leaned her head towards him, breathing in the scent of firewood mixed with his cologne. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You gettin’ sappy on me?” He asked. Though his voice was soft, she could feel his smirk.

“Nope.” She pulled out of his grasp and got into the passenger seat of his truck. “We going, or are you just gonna stand there looking all doe-eyed?”

“For you, I’d stand here all day, sweetheart.”

“Just get in the car, Romeo.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*** 

They drove for a while, to the outskirts of town, when Tyler stopped the truck and leaned over. He kissed her lips, hard and slow, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. She reciprocated, holding his bicep, moving her mouth in tandem with his and letting herself fall into him.

“Why are you being so love-y today?” She asked after they separated.

“I can’t show my girl some love?”

“Is that what I am? ‘Your girl’?”

He shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“You’re annoying, Owens.” She pushed his shoulder.

He mock-pushed her back as he said, “You’re pretty, L/N.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about—”

Y/N scoffed. “Are you about to ask me out?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Okay, good.”

“Would that be so bad of me?”

“Kinda.” Y/N breathed a laugh, but when she saw Tyler’s face, serious and a little upset, she stopped. “I mean, it’s not like we have the best thing going on here anyways, and I just don’t want to be—” She paused, about to say heartbroken, or used, or a placeholder for when you find someone better, but Tyler cut her off.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He started the truck, engine roaring to life. “It was dumb, nevermind. I’ll take you home.”

“Tyler, you know what I meant—”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re just messing around, right? That’s all this is, just messing around.”

He didn’t say another word on the ride home. 

He dropped her off, barely waiting for her to shut the truck door before he drove away.

***

Tyler didn’t answer any of Y/N’s calls or texts for the next few days. Y/N was upset, barely leaving her room checking her phone obsessively for any sign of Tyler Owens. She even started watching his YouTube channel, but there hadn’t been any uploads for over a month. Nothing on Instagram or Facebook, either.

Her mother yelled up the stairs to her one night, calling her down.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Her mom said upon seeing Y/N.

“This is what I always wear. Why?” Y/N was suddenly self conscious, confused as to why her parents cared what she wore in the house.

“Tonight’s the fair,” her mother responded, attempting to jog her memory.

“You’re helping us run our booth?” Her father tried.

“Ah, shit,” Y/N mumbled, remembering. “Do I have to go? I totally forgot.”

“Of course you have to go!” Her father said. “We need the three of us there; it’s a family ranch, remember?”

“Besides,” her mother added. “The Owens’s will be there. We can’t let them get a leg up on us! If you’re not there, Tyler will be running the show for sure.”

“Well, maybe not,” her father said. “He’s doing the kissing booth, remember?”

“The what?” Y/N said. “Tyler’s doing a kissing booth?”

Her father nodded. “To raise funds for his family’s ranch. He and his whole ‘team’ will be there, whatever they’re called.”

Y/N paused for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. Was that what Tyler was trying to talk to her about the other day? The kissing booth? But why would it matter what Y/N thought about it?

Her mother ushered her up the stairs. “For Pete’s sake, change into something nice, and quickly!”

Oh, shit.

***

The Humble Creek Fair was bustling with energy. People from nearby towns came to see what it was all about, and it was always the most popular time of year.

Y/N sat at her family’s booth, eyes peeled for Tyler. She kept checking her phone to see if he’d answered, but when she didn’t get any notifications she decided to take matters into her own hands.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said to her parents.

They both nodded, and her father added, “Make sure to see how the Owens’ booth is doing. I want to make sure we’ll still be in business next year.”

Y/N looked around for the kissing booth, and when she saw a long line of women, she followed it to the front. She walked around to the back of the attraction, but didn’t see Tyler anywhere. It wasn’t until she’d nearly given up entirely when she heard a voice behind her.

“What are you wearing?”

She whisked around, coming face-to-face with Tyler, who was holding some sort of weird meat on a stick.

“What are you eating?”

“Pork leg, fried and marinated in pickle juice,” he said, shrugging. “I’m hoping it’ll make my breath smell bad so less people come up. Now, back to you.”

“What about me?”

“You’re wearing a dress. You never wear dresses. ‘Jeans and a t-shirt, that’s me,’” he says, doing a poor impression of her.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you do, but that’s besides the point. What’s your deal?”

Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. “I wanted to, I guess.”

Tyler looked at her dead-on. “You look nice, Y/N.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been texting you for days. No response. But now that I’m here, all I get is, ‘I look nice’?” 

“What else do you want from me?”

“An answer, Tyler. What’s your deal? Why didn’t you tell me about the kissing booth?”

“I tried to, but then you came at me with all that ‘this is a bad idea’ crap, and I figured you didn’t want me to tell you. Or you didn’t care if I told you or not.”

“Okay, so—”

“Wait.” He stops her. “Do you care?”

Y/N kicks the ground. “If I did?”

“If you did,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I’d drop the pork leg and kiss you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’d eat the pork leg, and I’d kiss a bunch of people who aren’t you, and I’d feel like shit about it.” He took another step closer to her, nearly closing the gap between them. “Please say you care.”

“Ugh,” she scoffed. “You’re gonna make me say it? You can’t just, like, infer from the situation?”

“I’m really bad at inferring things,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “So, I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”

“You’re annoying, Owens.”

“You’re pretty, L/N. Like, so pretty. But I do need to hear you say it, and I’m also gonna need you to—”

“I care, Tyler. Now shut up and kiss me, or I’m gonna take it back.”

“Can’t take it back, babe. It’s set in stone.”

In one fluid motion, he dropped the pork leg, grabbed Y/N by the waist with his other hand, and pulled her into a kiss. It was deep and passionate, not like any of the other times they’ve kissed. They kept it going for as long as they can, holding their breath until they couldn’t anymore, and then they pulled apart, gasping for air with their foreheads touching.

“Will you go out with me?” He asked her, still struggling for air. “Like, on a real date, not just driving in the truck?”

“I guess,” Y/N said, teasingly. “If I have to.”

“I mean, you don’t have to. But if you do, I’m gonna need you to wear this again.” He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, if that’s even possible. “Because, if I’m being honest, L/N, this is the hottest I’ve ever seen you. Like, I didn’t think you could get hotter, but here we are. Speaking of, can we go? I really want to go somewhere with you. Like, privately.” He winked at her, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.

“Don’t you need to raise money for your farm?” She asked him, gesturing to the booth behind them.

“Fuck the farm,” he said. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” she said, pulling him into another kiss.

“Seriously though, can we go?”

[zalayni]

𓂃 💫 ੭ ᝢ SUGAR ༉

spendin' all my nights alone waiting for you to call me. you're the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep 💤

❛ pairing: earth42!miles x reader

❛ summary: after a long day there's nothing better than having your lover help you as you do your night time routine, no matter how girly it might be.

❛ warnings: the lower caps are intended. reader uses she/her pronouns.

❛ author's note: this is supposed to be longer but I lost everything and had to restart it from scratch. also this isn't proofread what so ever. I live like a warrior i'll die like a warrior 🫡🫡(I'm too lazy to read alat)

if anybody told Miles from when he was new to being prowler that he would be sitting in his room, wiping a girls makeup off specifically HIS girls makeup off he'd just tell them. “man you're buggin.”

yet here he was.

after a long day of standing around with music blasting in your ear while people laughed in the background you were finally back alone with Miles. it was silent but at the same time it was comforting. Miles was there kneeling infront of you, wiping your makeup off as you sat on the vanity chair he had bought and installed in his room along with the hello kitty mirror he saw people hyping up on tiktok.

don't get it mixed up though Miles would never use that vanity, he bought it for you. he filled up the drawers with makeup and products he'd see you use just for you. he did all of this because all he wished was for you to feel at home with him.

he went through the hard work of building and putting up the parts by himself as he was too embarrassed to ask uncle aaron or his mom for help. what would uncle aaron say if miles would randomly come in his home saying “help me build this pretty pink and white vanity I just bought.”

you always crashed at his place or miles would crash at yours. either way he always insisted on helping you with your nightly routine.

"all done Mami, now go wash up. I'll get your pajamas from the laundry." Miles attempted to get up before getting stopped by your hands pulling him down to peck his cheek. you pulled away while muttering a thank you.

Miles smirked at you while getting up.

"yeah, no problem. anything for my girl."

miles was the sweetest person to ever come into your life. who knew Brooklyn's number one killer would be such a lover boy? maybe it's because of the fact that he's always been a mamas boy growing up.

you finished up your shower, wrapping the towel around your body before a knock echoed through the bathroom. "ma, can I come in? I've got your pajamas." you quickly opened the door to see Miles standing there with your pink pajama set in his hands.

he stared at your figure watching as water droplets still slowly rolled down your body.

"Morales you're staring at me." you playfully said while side eyeing before taking the clothes out of his hands. Miles huffed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer silencing your giggles with a kiss.

"whatever ma you're trippin' I wasn't even staring you're just reading into it too much. even if I was can you blame me? I bagged such a pretty girlfriend."

Miles eyed you down once again before leaning close to your ear. "maybe even future wife."

ugh what a tease. yet everytime he did this you felt butterflies in your stomach.

he chuckled before exiting the bathroom leaving you there staring at his back, stunned. you shook it off with a laugh and got dressed so you could be back in his arms.

you brushed your teeth and did your skincare that Miles would always restock on. you felt bad as they were pricey but he would always insist on buying them for you.

you hanged the towel on the rack to dry and exited the bathroom, practically speed walking to Miles room. once you opened the door you were met with Miles laying comfortably on his bed with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. He had his arms up with his phone in his hands scrolling on whatever socials he was checking up on.

you closed his bedroom door before crawling in between his arms, laying your head on his chest. Miles sighed and put down his phone, wrapping his arms around you. He pecked the top of your head making you look up at him. "long day?" you asked him making miles suck his teeth.

"tch. ma you were there with me, yes the function was fun but of course my mom had to make us stay till past midnight talking about some ‘hold on we'll leave after I'm done talking.’" you laughed at him mimicking his mom's voice whole repeating what she would keep saying during the function.

mrs morales loved you so she told Miles to invite you to their family's function as his date which you gladly said yes to.

the day was long and your feet might've ached from all the standing as every seat was taken up, your stomach might've hurt from all the aunties insisting on you to eat more but at the end of day you got to see Miles smile, and it wasn't because of you. for some that was the rarest sight to witness.

after the death of his dad Miles drifted away from everyone but here he was laughing and bickering with his favourite cousins. he was actually playing his favorite sport, basketball for once and laughing whenever he'd steal the ball from his cousins.

you witnessed Miles grow as a person and slowly pick up broken pieces. it was truly heart warming.

here you laid in the dead of night, ear on Miles chest hearing his soft heartbeat with your eyes closed. you were calm yet your head was racing with thoughts. you decided to break the silence after awhile of listening to his breathing pattern and heartbeats. "hey Miles, I'm not sure if you're asleep but I have a question."

it was silent for awhile making you think Miles fell asleep before you could ask it but then he answered. "go ahead Mami, I'm listening."

"would you give the world to me?" you looked up at him only to see his half lidded eyes staring down at you. "mhmm no."

your heart dropped at his answer, lips close to quivering, but the hard beating of your heart slamming against your chest was calmed down with what you heard him say afterwards.

"hermosa, why would I do that when there's other planets too?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

please do not steal, copy, translate or put my work on any other apps. thank you for reading 🫶

artwork in header made by koscribbls on instagram

[lilasamaaa]

Missed chances | Max Verstappen x Reader / Part One

Genre | Angst, Hurt, Fluff.

Word count | 4.1K

Warnings | Mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption, Max being an asshole.

Summary | It's been years since you've had a crush on your best friend's brother. But him too, right? Or is kissing you every chance he gets just a game for him?

Author's note | Angsty Queen is back at it! This piece is the result of this poll. Thank you so much for all the feedback on the previous pieces, I'm so glad you like them. Enjoy this one! (Not proofread yet, sorry!)

You and Victoria are thirteen when you cross paths for the first time. The shy blonde girl stands upright, nervously nibbling her lip. It's the first day of school, and you're both waiting to find out which class you'll be in, hoping to be with friends. Her gaze meets yours, and she offers a timid smile. You're not friends. Not yet. You just have mutual friends. Your names are called almost simultaneously, indicating that you're in the same class. Instinctively, you head towards her, giving her a big smile. You don't know anyone else in the class, so you'll have to get to know each other. Stick together.

A few months later, as your father drops you off in front of Victoria's house before rushing off to your little brother's soccer practice, you take a moment to observe the pale blue house from the outside. Upstairs, a curtain moves, catching your attention. You don't see anybody, though. You knock on the door, and Victoria opens it, immediately throwing herself into your arms.

"I'm so glad your parents agreed to this," she says, excited. "This is gonna be so cool. My parents aren't home so Max is supposed to look after us, but he'll probably lock himself in his room. Boys, you know..." she finishes, leading you into the hallway.

Max? For months, you've been sharing your lives between classes, but you've never heard this name before.

"Who's Max?" you ask, curious.

"My older brother," she replies, rolling her eyes. "We don't get along so well these days. He thinks he's all grown up... Barely even acknowledge me," Victoria says, frustration evident in her voice.

"I can relate," you reply sarcastically. "Well, mine's younger, but not that interested in me either."

You spend the afternoon in her room painting your nails, braiding each other's hair, and sharing your secrets (you're starting to run out, after all this time), until night falls. You're deep in conversation when someone knocks on the door. That must be Max, you think, waiting for the door to open.

And it is Max, indeed. His face appears, and your heart skips a beat. He's cute. He seems a bit grumpy. Not in the best mood, that's true. But there's something immediately touching about his big, wide eyes and annoyed expression.

"Diner's ready," Max says before closing the door.

"I bet he made fish sticks again," Victoria grumbles, getting up. "That's the only thing he knows how to cook."

Sitting at the table, cutting a fish stick in half with your fork, your gaze shifts from Victoria to Max, who sit across from each other, not exchanging a word.

"So..." you start shyly. "What's your favorite subject, Max?" you ask, immediately regretting your words as the boy glances in your direction, brows furrowed.

Of course, your only topic of conversation is school. You've always been one of the top students. A real bookworm, as they say. Plus, you're not exactly comfortable around boys, especially those around your age. Victoria shoots you a desperate look, eyes wide open. But right now, anything seems better than this uncomfortable, excruciating silence.

"Erm," Max says, grabbing a green bean with his fork. "Geography, I guess. I don't know."

Silence falls once again, lingering until each of you finishes your meal, and then Victoria and you retreat to her room.

"Don't even bother trying to talk to him," the blonde says as she slips into her pajamas. "Nothing interests him except go-karting."

The next time you encounter Max, you're fourteen, and he's sixteen. Victoria and you are participating in an endurance race to raise funds for a charity, and your families have been invited to attend the event. Your parents, who have crossed paths several times at school meetings and other events, find each other in the stands and share enthusiastic greetings before sitting down. Already on the track, you watch the reunion with a smile when your eyes fall on him. Max is here? you think. He never attends these things.

The race begins, and Victoria and you take off along the lake, completing lap after lap. On one of them, as you pass by the stands, particularly the one where your parents are seated, you turn your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. You don't see your father or your mother. Your eyes only see him. Max. And he's looking at you, too. Your eyes don't leave each other until your foot slips on a stone, and your ankle twists violently. You fall to the ground, letting out a cry of pain as your father rises, rushing to your aid.

A little less than an hour later, as Victoria finishes her run and joins you at the infirmary, the blonde gives you a worried yet disapproving look. "You're too distracted," she says, hand on her hip. "What was it this time? Did you see a cute boy or something? Was it Jan?". You don't respond, giving a sheepish smile to your friend. A cute boy, yeah...

As the years go by, you see Max less and less. At the beginning of your friendship with Victoria, you often ran into the young man when you spent afternoons or nights at the Verstappen's, but the aspiring driver has started to become increasingly scarce in his own home. One evening, though, as you're racking your brains over a philosophy essay, your phone vibrates, signaling a message from the person who's become your best friend.

"Max is throwing a fucking rager at home. Please come, I beg you. I'll shoot myself if I have to deal with his drunk friends all alone."

Thirty minutes later, you're on your bike, covering the five kilometers that separate your house from Victoria's. Summer has begun, with only a few days of classes left, which certainly explains Max's sudden urge to throw a party. On your bike, you're anxious, your stomach tying itself in knots. Despite your daily visits to Victoria, it's been almost a year since you've last seen her older brother. You try to convince yourself that the fact you applied a bit of mascara to your lashes or straightened your hair has nothing to do with his presence. You just wanted to tidy up a bit, that's all. Nothing else to it.

When you arrive at the blue house, your first instinct is to anxiously glance at the surrounding houses. How has no one called the cops yet, you think, impressed by the decibels pouring out of the open windows, and the number of people you can already see inside the house. Leaving your bike in the grass, you venture into the house, passing by the wide open front door. On the way to the living room, drunk bodies cling to you, spilling beer on your shoes, shouting incomprehensible words in your ears. Wow. Victoria wasn't kidding. This thing is a huge mess.

Spotting your friend in the middle of the kitchen, you make your way to her.

"What the fuck is happening here?" you ask, casting a glance over the room.

"Can you believe this asshole?" Victoria replies, fuming. "Mom has been gone for five hours. Five! And I haven't even finished my fucking essay," she says, despair filling her eyes.

"Forget about it," you reply, stifling a laugh. "That's not happening tonight."

Victoria launches into another tirade about how much her brother annoys her when you catch sight of him in the middle of the living room. He's wearing a shirt that looks slightly too big for him. Maybe borrowed from his dad. He's holding a beer in one hand. A girl in the other. The sight twists your heart and brings a bitter taste to your mouth. Clinging to his arm, the blonde —who you recognize as Sanne, a girl from his class— can't seem to tear her gaze from Max, looking at him as if he belonged in a museum.

"Hey, are you listening?" Victoria says, bringing you back to reality.

"What?"

"They want to play a game," Victoria repeats. "Seven minutes in heaven."

"Seven minutes in heaven?" you repeat, eyes wide.

"Yeah. Sanne suggested it."

Of course she did, you think, biting your lip. Of course Sanne, who clearly has a big crush on Max, would suggest a game where the goal is to get locked in a narrow closet with someone for seven minutes.

"Listen to me," Victoria says, suddenly serious. "If Max has to be locked in a closet with anyone, I want it to be you. We'll figure it out. We'll cheat at the draw," she continues. "I hate Sanne. At least with you, I know nothing will happen."

You swallow loudly, completely at a loss for words. Getting locked in a closet with Max? The Max who's never really noticed you? Who's always seen you as nothing but a kid because you're a year and a half younger and his sister's friend? You don't have much time to think about it because already, you're sitting in a circle in the middle of the living room with a dozen other people, a bottle in the center.

Johannes, a friend of Max's, spins the bottle, which lands on Sanne. The girl's eyes sparkle with excitement, her gaze fixed on Max. Johannes spins the bottle again, and this time, it stops in front of another girl you don't know. You glance at Victoria, who seems particularly amused by the situation. Sanne looks absolutely gutted.

"Rules are rules, girls," Johannes says, laughing.

A boy from your class escorts the girls to the closet by the entrance before locking them in and starting a timer. The seven minutes pass, filled by various discussions. When the alarm goes off and the girls are freed, Sanne sits back in the circle, her face closed off.

"It's my turn to spin the bottle," she announces, seizing the plastic object.

She's quite skilled, as the bottle spins twice before landing directly in front of Max. Sanne grabs the bottle again, sending it spinning, and it rotates for a while before stopping right in front of you. Sanne seems beside herself, but your attention is focused on Victoria, who gives you a discreet thumbs-up. Your eyes meet Max's, and it's safe to say the young man doesn't look too pleased. But as Johannes said, rules are rules, and the two of you get up before walking towards the closet.

The space is ridiculously tiny. Max ventures in first, one foot behind the vacuum cleaner, the other squeezed between two shoe shelves. There's barely enough room for two people to fit, and as Johannes pushes you inside unceremoniously and you hear the lock click behind you, you realize you're standing between Max's legs, your hands on his chest.

"Sorry," you say, trying to get away, your back hitting the door.

A heavy silence settles between you as outside, you hear the lively conversations resume in the living room.

"I'm sure you would have preferred to be locked in with Sanne," you say, trying to fill the silence that's slowly eating away at you.

"Not really," Max responds, evasive.

"Aren't you two together?" you ask, curious.

He scoffs against you, sending vibrations to your chest.

"She would like to, yeah," Max says, as you feel his breath against your face despite him being twenty centimeters taller than you.

"And you don't?" you ask, trying to appear nonchalant even though you fear his answer.

"I don't have time for her."

"Oh. I didn't realize your time was so precious," you reply, stunned.

"Depends on who it's spent with," Max replies, his voice deeper.

You're suddenly incredibly grateful to be plunged into darkness because your cheeks are definitely burning red. Is Max Verstappen flirting with you?

"You've changed since the last time I saw you," he continues, as you feel like the temperature in the closet has risen several degrees.

"Changed how?" you ask, seeking his gaze despite the darkness.

"You're taller. Your hair seems longer. It's lightened up a bit, it's nice," he says. "Sixteen suits you. You're not a kid anymore."

You're going to suffocate. Die in a closet.

"We're only a year and a half apart," you reply, breathless.

"I know," he replies, as you feel his hand caress your cheek. "I'm not a kid anymore either."

His lips crash onto yours before you even have time to comprehend what's happening. You melt into him, closing your eyes, savoring the contact you've dreamed of for years. His hand rests on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him, as your hands find their way back to his chest. You bite his lip, and he lets out a groan before wrapping his arms around your waist. You thank the loud music from the living room for drowning out the sounds you're making in this closet, pressed against one another. Your hands find his neck, and his crawl to your ass, squeezing it as you let out a moan against his open mouth.

You thought you couldn't get any closer, but one of Max's hands slips under your right knee, lifting your leg. You've never kissed anyone. Never touched anyone. Yet, as your two groins press against each other, everything feels so easy, so natural. You could stay here for hours, exploring his mouth, his face, his body, but already, footsteps echo in the hallway, and you pull away from each other as if you'd been burned.

"Time's up, lovers!" Johannes says opening the door, prompting laughter from the living room.

"As if," Max says, getting out first. "That's disgusting, bro. She's like my sister."

You stay in the closet for a few seconds, watching the two boys go back to the living room, catching your breath. Several hours later, lying in Victoria's bed as the music has stopped and most of the guests have left the house, you stare at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep, despite your best friend softly snoring by your side. Getting up to get a glass of water, you walk blindly through the dark hallway, passing by Max's room.

"Can we talk?" a voice suddenly rises, making you jump, your hand finding your heart which threatens to leap out of your chest.

You remain silent. Not quite sure if you want to talk, let alone with Max. And certainly not to talk about earlier, in the closet, and be rejected by the boy who stole your heart.

"Come here," he says, pulling you into his room before closing the door behind him. "I don't want Victoria to hear."

You're about to pour your heart out, tell Max how much he hurt you, when he pulls you towards him and presses his lips to yours. Again. Everything you had planned to say escapes your mind as your tongues meet and the hands of your best friend's brother slide under your shirt, stroking your back. Max pulls back, sitting on his bed, pulling you onto his lap, one leg on each side of him. The kisses intensify, your noses brushing, your hands getting lost in each other's hair. Your lips speaking without sound, your hearts opening up without words.

"I don't understand you," you admit between kisses.

"Don't try," he replies, biting your lip.

Max grabs your butt, pressing you against him, and a flash of panic grips you when you feel him against you. Hard. You moan, and suddenly, all the reason seems to come back to him. It's you. His sister's best friend. He pulls back, avoiding your gaze.

"I..." he starts, breathless. "You should go," Max says before pushing you off his lap. You stand here, facing him awkwardly for a few seconds. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. When nothing comes, his head still low, you turn on your heels. Back in Victoria's room, slipping under the covers of your best friend's bed, you let out a tear, feeling a sadly familiar ache tugging at your heart.

Max and you cross paths again a year later, at your high school graduation ceremony. You and Victoria are among the top students in your class, and you're invited to go on stage to give a speech with eight other people. One of these people is Niels. Your boyfriend. You've been together for a few months now. He welcomes you on stage, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before holding you close. In the audience, your eyes meet those of your parents, proud. Those of Victoria's parents, proud. And those of Max. Icy.

The speeches go by quickly, and just before the buffet begins, you apologize to Niels and your parents, saying you need to make a quick stop at the restroom. In the deserted corridors of your high school, your heels click against the floor, soon joined by the sound of another pair of shoes. You turn around, surprised, seeing Max approaching in the distance.

"Niels Harmen?" you hear the boy say. "Really?"

"What do you want?" you reply, eyes cold.

"That guy was still picking his nose last year."

"It's good that he stopped, then," you respond, annoyed.

"Why are you dating him?"

The question makes you laugh. Not a sincere laugh. A laugh that says "mind your own business" and "screw you" at the same time. An ironic, ugly laugh that you don't even recognize.

"When we kiss, I'm not afraid that he'll reject me the next second," you reply, even though you know it's hitting below the belt.

Max scoffs, crossing his arms.

"Is it what it is? Some sort of revenge?"

"I'm not seeking revenge on anyone. My life doesn't revolve around you," you spit before turning on your heels.

You haven't taken a step before a hand grabs your wrist. You already know what's going to happen. So you try to resist. You know you shouldn't turn around. That if your eyes meet his, you'll fall back in. Start another round of false hopes. Disillusionments. Heartaches.

Yet, you do. You turn around, and, of course, his lips find yours. It's almost routine now, mechanical. You close your eyes, your heart torn between the joy of feeling his touch again, and the anticipation of the pain that will undoubtedly assail you in a few hours. When he'll reject you, again.

You're lost in each other when the sound of applause brings you crashing back to earth. The two of you quickly pull away before turning towards the source of the noise. Sanne.

"Don't you have a boyfriend waiting for you?" the girl asks with a fake smile.

"Get out of here, Sanne," Max says like a warning.

"What happened to "I'm not interested in her", Max?" Sanne asks, one hand on her hip. "Or to "She's just a kid, and not even my type"? Or, wait, what was it, the last time?" Sanne continues, stroking her chin. "Oh, yeah. "She was just there, and I was bored"."

You look at him, mouth agape, but Max carefully avoids meeting your gaze. Sanne's words tear at your heart. In a way, it's even worse than being rejected by him. You turn on your heels for good this time, passing by Sanne who's looking at you like you're the most despicable thing on earth. You're vaguely aware of Max saying... no, screaming your name, but you keep on walking, not looking back once. For a second, you thought you were gonna cry, break down in tears in the middle of the hallway. But nothing comes. You don't feel anything. Your heart has given up, surrendered. Returning to the ceremony, you smile at your parents before settling next to your best friend.

"Have you seen Max?" Victoria asks, and you don't miss how the mention of his name doesn't make your heart flutter, for the first time in years.

"Nope," you reply, smiling at her.

Three years later, you're in Victoria's car, on your way to the Zandvoort Grand Prix. You don't even know why you agreed to come with your best friend. You don't watch F1. You have no interest in the sport. Curiosity, your inner voice whispers. You wanted to see him again. You shake your head to dispel those intrusive thoughts when Victoria turns to you.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come. Max is so happy, too."

"What?" you ask, turning to her.

"He told me over the phone. Is that so surprising?"

Well, it is. Max and you haven't exchanged a word since the last ones thrown in the hallway of your high school. But Victoria, of course, doesn't know that. Victoria thinks you're friendly. Like two people who grew up together, gravitating in the same universe without ever colliding.

"He got us VIP passes", your best friend continues. "We'll be able to go everywhere, even see the pit stops!"

"How kind of him," you mumble.

"Look," she says, looking over at you. "I know Max wasn't the kindest... or the warmest, growing up. But he's changed, so much. You'd be surprised!"

"Oh, I bet," you say, smiling at her.

Victoria parks her small car in the VIP space, and a RedBull staff member greets you, handing you two passes before guiding you through the paddock. A stress you haven't felt in three years creeps into your head, into your body. Your thoughts collide, your hands are sweaty. You're beginning to wonder if coming here was a good idea after all when you spot him. At the end of the aisle, in his racing suit. Helmet in hand. Victoria's phone suddenly rings, and she apologizes, gesturing for you to continue without her.

You take the few steps that separate you from the driver. He's changed. So much. His teenage roundness has vanished, replaced by sharp features. His hair is longer, his eyes darker. He gives you a warm smile that twists your insides. It's impossible, you think. After all these years. Having so much power, so much hold over me.

"You came," he says, still smiling.

"For her," you reply curtly.

"Well..." he says, laughing softly. "She's not the one racing."

The silence falls again. Cold. Heavy. You turn your head, spotting Victoria a little further away, hoping she hangs up soon.

"You look beautiful," he says, and you know he means it despite you wearing the blankest blue jeans and white shirt ever made.

Silence, again.

"I'd hoped you'd no longer be mad at me." Max says, and you scoff.

"I'm not mad at you."

"You're cold."

"You broke my heart."

The driver winces, looking away.

"I should have called," he says, softly.

"I wouldn't have answered," you reply.

"I should have come to see you," Max starts again.

"I wouldn't have opened the door."

Your eyes meet his. Fire and ice.

"Well, I should have done something. Fight for you," he continues.

"Fight for who?" you ask. "The girl who was just there?"

Max runs his hand through his hair, embarrassed.

"You were never just that to me. You were so much more. I was just too young, too stupid to realize it. I have. Now."

You hadn't planned on getting into deep explanations with Max today. Not here. Not now. You're about to respond when Victoria returns, linking her arm with yours.

"Maxie!" she says, kissing his cheek. "Are you catching up on lost time? Did she tell you she's still dating Niels? Rumor has it that he's going to propose soon!"

Max's eyes glance down at your hand, and something in his demeanor shifts. It might be the breath he holds, or the way his shoulders seem to slump, defeated.

"She hasn't," he says, smiling faintly at his sister.

"We should go," Victoria says. "The race is about to start. Can we go to the stands?"

"Yes, no problem," Max replies as Victoria begins to head towards the garage, leaving you face to face once again.

"Congrats on your future engagement, I guess," he says.

"Thank you. I'm going to break up with him," you reply, crossing your arms.

"What?" Max says, astonished.

"It doesn't feel right. Him and I."

"If it has anything to do with me, please, tell me," Max breathes, as you avoid his gaze. "I was so focused on my career these past few years that I never wrote to you. I knew I didn't have the time to make it work. I knew it'd be selfish. Unfair to you," Max admits.

"Here you are, once again, thinking that my life revolves around you", you say, smirking at him. "I'm not waiting for you, Max. I haven't been for a while now."

The driver nods, swallowing hard.

"Of course," he says. "I'm sorry for assuming."

"I'm not against the idea of grabbing a drink with you sometime, though," you say, winking at him. "Just text me when you're free."

"I will," he says quickly, blue eyes boring into yours.

"See you around," you say, running to catch up with Victoria.

Watching you leave, Max stands there, grinning like an idiot, before unlocking his phone.

"How about tonight?"

Sent.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

just a distraction ft. choso kamo!

academic rivals, academic rivals, academic rivals, academic rivals- set-up: in which, choso and you are academic rivals. in every exam, the raven-haired cunt always seems to be just a negligible percent ahead of you. maybe you've had enough of his bullshit. maybe you should find better ways to get him off that first rank? (both the reader and choso are in second year of college)

warnings: PORN WITH (A LITTLE) PLOT. nsfw babes. contains blowjob, cunnilingus, dirty talking, pet names (baby, darling, etc.), banter (lots and lots). yeah mdni <3

you didn't know much about choso kamo. not really, no.

i mean you knew the basics. you knew his name, his voice. you knew that he always was dressed in black and that he had that weird (somewhat hot) tattoo cutting a horizontal across his pretty face. you knew he had two younger brothers (the pink-haired twin underclassmen) and how he doted on them outside of these wretched lecture rooms.

oh, and what else? you knew he was a fucking bastard.

you knew how smug he was. how absolutely insufferable. you knew the way he scoffed when the professor asked you for the answer instead of him. you knew the way he rolled his eyes when you told him he was wrong. and you knew his full lips always curled up when all the students would gather around the notice board after the exams.

you knew he would always scan his gaze over the crowd, meet your eyes and mouth, "maybe next time, sweetheart." and then walk away.

there's no way an arrogant asshole like him should ever come first in anything! but here you stood in front of the fucking notice board, seeing his name next to the first rank. again.

you had tried everything, really. you had been studying everyday in the library until the staff physically pushed you out of the gates and asked you to go home. you had practiced every question paper in existence, really. then how was he still sitting on top with that stupid fucking smirk of his?

"ugh, don't tell me you're going to the library today." nobara groaned, sprawled out on your dorm bed. "exams literally ended two days ago. you should take some time off!! you promised me you would shop with me once the break came-"

"that was before that bastard beat me again." you mumbled, stuffing a thick notebook into your bag haphazardly.

"are you gonna ditch me for that guy? again? nobody even cares about coming first in uni!! it's a miracle we're all passing, even."

"it matters to me."

"sure does..." nobara pouted. then she sat up and tucked her legs one under the other. she eyed you cautiously and uncannily slow, then grinned like a devil, "what are you doing?"

"what? packing my bag to go to the library?"

"why are you trying so hard to impress him?"

if your body was not a human body, you were sure your eyes would have fallen off and onto the ground. you spluttered, "excuse me? i- i am not trying to impress anybody!"

"uh huh, uh huh." she rested her face on her open palm as if oblivious to the accusations she had placed upon you and your character.

"don't uh huh, uh huh me."

"i am just saying that there are more ways to get a first rank than just studying your ass off you know?" she followed with a cashmere smile, "maybe you should take up another strategy. distract your opponent a little?"

˚˖𓍢ִ���🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

this was stupid. really, really stupid.

but nonetheless, you knocked on his dorm room and awaited an answer.

the rest of the floor was empty, most people on vacation or back home for the spring break but not him. he was holed up in his room doing god knows what (studying, probably.)

you subconsciously pulled down the hem of your short denim skirt while awaiting his answer. it's not like you dressed too modest or something. but knowing that you had purposely put on a white, almost see-through long sleeve with a mini, mini denim skirt for all the wrong purposes felt embarrassing.

he would probably see through your act so quickly.

the door finally swung open and there stood an annoyed man in a black, fitted tee and black sweats. his long, choppy hair had been put up in a half-up and his annoyed expression morphed into a sadistic, half-satisfied smile when he saw you. his lips tugged upwards as he took you in, up and down.

"want something?" he asked slowly, leaning against the door frame and towering over you.

you held the books flush against your chest, as if hiding yourself from his scrutinizing gaze. "i-" you swallowed thickly, the words going sour on your tongue, "i just was wondering if you would help me out."

"awh, finally asking for me help, sweetheart?"

the urge to flip him off and walk away was big. but the urge to defeat him and see his crying face was bigger.

"are you gonna invite me in or are we supposed to do this in the middle of the hallway?" you snapped.

god, your self esteem was taking brutal hits right now.

he stepped to his right and mockingly invited you in. you stepped inside into his dark, disheveled dorm room. only purple LED lights had been turned on and from the looks of it, his roommate was gone. possibly on vacation. the raven-head's laptop lay forgotten on his bed and the dimly lit screen had some pop-up game menu asking if he wanted to exit the game.

you looked back at him as he locked off the door. you swallowed yet again, "uhm, so what were you doing?"

"playing." he remarked nonchalantly, nodding towards his laptop. he sat on his roommate's clean bed and you mirrored his actions by sitting on choso's messed bed.

"so?" he quipped again, and the purple led lights casted ghostly shadows across his face, "what does the princess need help with?"

"first, she needs you to drop that cocky, bitchy attitude." you chewed on the inside on your cheek to bite back insults, "second, i- uhm, needed help with the integral problems."

"ah, really? which part?" he stood up, walking over to where you were sitting. looking down, he casted a dubious look as your fingers pulled his tshirt downwards as if nudging him to sit down besides you.

he sat down, uncomfortably close to you on that small bed. he refused to meet your gaze, choosing to pick up the book you had brought with you and flipping through it.

you leaned forward, purposely brushing your perked chest against his biceps. you pointed towards a random problem and whispered, "that one, please."

and just like that, choso kamo was fucked.

you could feel the man's composure was evaporating when he nodded dryly and swallowed in vain. he tried to put distance between you two but you felt confident in your teasing. deciding to press himself closer to his side, molding your curves against his sculpted body, you noticed how he shifted his pants ever so subtly.

"so, you know this needs to be integrated separately first-" his breath hitched as your light fingers skimmed over his arm and you nodded enthusiastically to continue. "right- so. so, you know then you take the numerator okay? and you should- hey w-what?"

he stopped confused as you lightly skimmed over his thighs. your fingers barely brushed over his hard-on. you flashed him a smile, "you look a bit tensed up. i feel like i can't study if you'd be so stiff around me."

"yn." choso breathed as you brushed your soft fingers past the growing tent again. his rough hands held your wrist still as he gave you a pleading look, "what are you doing?"

you took the book out of his hands, placing it somewhere on the bed. then you gave him a reassuring smile, "choso, relax."

and then you sat down on the floor. your hands separated his thighs gingerly and you looked up at him one more time. he had closed his eyes, as if looking at you would make him cum.

you dragged your fingers to the waistband of his pants and tugged them down slowly. his erect dick sprung up, slightly hitting his clothed abdomen. hiding your amusement at his apparent shyness, you slowly pumped his dick.

"look at me." you whispered and he exhaled softly. when his eyes met yours, you took off your shirt, presenting him with your bare torso.

"fuck-" he choked up, eyes transfixed on your perked nipples and the slight goosebumps on your supple skin.

your fingers pumped him languidly and you finally placed wet, kitten licks on the mushroom tip. tasting his salty pre, you swirled your tongue around it, relishing in his breathless whimpers. then, in one go, you took him in. you sucked on it while your hands worked his base.

you looked up at him through fluttering eyelashes and something in his demeanor broke. as if he had finally let lose.

his rough palm pressed against the back of your head, pushing you to take in more. you momentarily gagged around his cock and he moaned as your helpless voice reverberated against his shaft. he pushed you in slowly, looking at the way your eyes started tearing up.

fighting off a feral grin, he whispered, "you have no idea how long i've waited to do this."

then his hands guided you up and down, using your face as a toy for his pleasure. your manicured nails dug into the fabric as he abused your mouth for his pleasures.

"fuck- fuck. fuck. look at you, on your fucking knees. you're so fuckin' pretty, god." he threw his head back and strings of curses and moans left him as you worked in tandem with him. sucking him in pacing with the way he moved your head up and down. you eyes were getting watery and your throat feeling sore but you kept going, sucking harder till you felt him tremble under your strained touches and spit-soaked, red lips.

"i think im gonna cum- f-fuck i-" his voice broke and suddenly your mouth was full of a salty liquid. you swallowed down and ignored the sting that his dick had left behind in your throat.

still struggling to breath, he looked down at you. his calloused fingers softly wiped off the drool on your chin and he pulled you back up to sit you on his lap.

"pretty sure that wasn't a part of calculus." he whispered, almost laughing at his own joke but you were having none of it.

"choso." you breathed, desperation etched into your voice as you rut your hot, wet core against his clothed thigh. your eyes were watery, voice hoarse, "cho-"

"what do you want?" he pulled you in and pressed a kiss on your throat, his hands running over your smooth back, "ask me 'n ill give you the fuckin' world."

you leaned into his soft kisses. his clothed chest rubbed against your perked buds as you grinded yourself harder on him, "i dont know- you. i want you."

"you already have me." he insisted.

turning you around and laying you on his bed as softly as he could, he gave you a last hesitant gaze. his lips pressed chaste kisses down your body till he reached the swell of your breasts. his hand roughly pressed against one while his mouth latched onto the other.

he hummed, too drunk to say anything other than the feeling on your skin on his tongue. his fingers pulled at your hard nipple and you jolted under him, fighting off a moan. he let go with a pop, his eyes trained on your face as he licked a stripe down on your skin before focusing on the previously ignored side.

your hands tangled in his hair and you pressed down his face harder against yourself, insisting him to go rougher on you. as in on cue, he bit you slightly. grazing his sharp canine against your soft tits, he smirked when you shuddered under him.

moving even downwards, he kissed down on the soft fat on your stomach. his hands slowly played with the soft skin and he looked up at you, mumbling against your skin, "you're so fucking beautiful."

he undid the skirt, pulling it past your hips and thighs and throwing it somewhere on the floor. then, he took off his shirt, leaving him bare to be ogled at. you propped up, eyes running over every taut muscle rippling under his skin. mindlessly, you mumbled, "i hate you, you know?"

he gave you an easy smile, "maybe if you focused as much on integrals as you do on my abs, you would have been first."

"excuse me?" you sat up haughtily, "are you fucking stupid? asshole!"

his hands gently guided you back, laying you down. he gave you a teasing smile, "you run your mouth too much. that's your issue, yk."

"did i ask for your opinion or he-lp-" you closed your eyes as the pad of his thumb rubbed your clit through your slick-drenched panties.

he slowly traced circles on the sensitive nub, kissing the inner side of your plush thighs, "i thought that's why you came here?" he pressed an open-mouthed kiss close to where you wanted him. then he looked up and mumbled through a hooded gaze, "i thought you needed my help?"

he pulled the translucent fabric aside, he kissed the bundle of nerves before licking down a patient stripe down to your entrance, "fuc- choso ngh-"

"or is this it?" he spread your thighs apart more, looking at the glistening core, "did you want my help to fuck you as dumb as you are?"

before you could argue, he dipped his tongue in your entrance. his tongue lapping up the juices. he dragged his tongue up, focusing on your clit and the way you squirmed under him when he sucked on the puffy bud harshly.

looking over at your flushed face and being guided by your desperate hands, he pushed in two fingers inside. dragging them in and out, he marveled in the way your body responded to his touches.

your walls spasmed every time he entered and refused to let him go. you bit your lip to quiet yourself down. your thighs were shaking ever so slightly, your mouth agape, lips stained red. your back arched off the bed when he increased the pace and you tugged on his hair and cried out a moan when he used his thumb on your clit and pressed a kiss to your thigh.

"oh my god-" your back arched off as he sucked at your clit again, "fuck fuck fuck, choso. i'm gon'- cum, im gonna cum."

he pressed one last, fleeting kiss to your flushed clit. and he stayed there, drinking up any wayward nectar till you stilled under him. once he was sure you were through your orgasm, he stood up on his knees. wiping his face off, he asked, "you okay?"

you gave him a lazy, unenthusiastic thumbs up and he laughed at the gesture. climbing up, he came up and kissed your nose. you were sure he could taste the salt on your skin.

well, not like it wasn't his fault you were like this anyways.

laying next to you, he stared up at the ceiling and you fidgeted with your hair because it felt as if there was nothing else to do. you chewed on your lips, mulling your words over, "i don't run my mouth too much."

now that the sexual tension was gone. it was awkward, "sorry i said it like that."

"yeah, i guess it's okay."

well there were other things he had said aswell. like "i have been waiting so long for this" or "you have me"... but you didn't feel like raising such important questions when your limbs ached with fatigue and your mind was clouded over with thoughts of choso in your veins.

he gave you a tight-lipped smile and after a minute, he climbed off the bed.

"uh, hey?" you got up too, "do you want me to like... leave?"

"what? no no. i figured you'd get cold." he shook his head and grabbed a plain, blue t-shirt from his closet. he handed it over to you and climbed back in bed, dragging the covers up to cover you both. hesitantly, he draped his hand over your waist and no sooner was he asleep. his soft snores rang through the room and now you lay confused next to him.

nobara had given you some ideas and you followed it. now what? choso barely seem distracted. if anything, it seemed like it had taken off some sort of load off of his chest. he was sleeping so peacefully that you resisted the urge to sock him in the face and run back to your dorm.

while choso lay unaffected, it seems as though this escapade is gonna be rough on you.

well, this is your sign to never take nobara's advice again.

a/n: i actually have a part two written out already. let me know if anyone wants to see it lol. part two is now up! hope you liked it <3

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

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[barcaatthemoon]

peer pressure ii || lucy bronze x reader ||

the aftermath of you sneaking out to go to a party.

part i

you were pissed as you made your way to the locker room. your fists were clenched, knocking into every corner as you rounded it. most of the team had already arrived, but you had been held up by a fight with your parents. your last fight with your parents if you had anything to do with it. from the way things had been, you doubted that they'd let you back in even if you tried to come back.

"morning kiddo," frido greeted you happily. you didn't even look up at her as you made your way over to your cubby. everybody's eyes were on you, and alexia looked like she was about ready to tell you off about your attitude when frido and ingrid pulled her back. "it's okay, i can talk to her myself."

"bon dia (y/n)," patri said loudly. she made a show of speaking loud enough to make it impossible to ignore without validating a lecture from alexia. lucy smacked the back of patri's head as she walked past, stopping right in front of you.

"let's go for a walk," lucy said. she waited for you to get your boots on before she pulled you up and out of the locker room. everybody was watching the two of you, but not all with the same expression. the team had all heard about you sneaking out to the party, but not all of them knew what had actually happened. alexia seemed to be hung up on the fact that you had drank and smoked weed, even though it was all out of your system by the time that you had been tested.

"are you going to yell at me?" you asked. lucy shook her head as she led you outside of the facility. "what did you want to talk about?"

"when's the last time you went home?" lucy asked you. you shrugged, not really sure where home was anymore. it had been a few days since your parents kicked you out of the house, but you hadn't told anybody yet. all they needed to know right now was that you were fighting with your parents. "where have you been sleeping at night?"

"my car," you mumbled. lucy's eyes widened as the realization of what you said settled in. legally, you weren't allowed to drive for another two years. the fact that you had purchased a car was really just so that you would have something when your driving lessons started next year.

"did you drive it here?" lucy asked you. you nodded, suddenly feeling like you were about to get in major trouble. "when we get back inside, give me your keys. i'll have mapi or someone take it to their place. you can't drive around, especially not here! what if you got in a wreck or something?"

"i've been careful," you mumbled. lucy sighed as she put her arm around your shoulders. "i didn't know what else to do, they told me to leave, so i did. they kicked me out, lucy, and honestly, i don't want to go back. it was one party, one fucking party!"

"hey, it's okay," lucy said as she held you in her arms. you started crying, and she immediately started to soothe you. "you can stay with me, okay?"

"yeah, not like you'd take no for an answer," you chuckled. lucy hummed in agreement, glad that you weren't fighting her on this.

…

living with lucy proved to be the best thing for you. the stress of living with your parents was lifted off of your shoulders. they hadn't wanted you as their daughter, they wanted alexia. lucy was more than content for you to be yourself. she even went as far as to tell you whenever you'd been doing well in practice, and reassuring you whenever you had an off day. it was like night and day, as was your overall attitude.

for the first time in nearly a year, you were back to being the happy kid you had been whenever you first signed with the senior team. things were great, even if you still had a lot of tension with alexia. that wasn't something that would be fixed easily, if it ever would. other than that, everything was going great, which was why you weren't surprised when it suddenly went back again.

you had never gotten a start in an el classico match before. your teammates had warned you that real liked to play it aggressively against barcelona, so you were prepared. lucy had been taking you to the gym with her, which meant that you had really built up a lot of strength in the few months that you'd been living together. their players could knock into you all that they wanted, but it didn't do much to deter you.

"hey, there's someone in the stands waiting for you," ona said as she grabbed onto your elbow. you were scared for a moment that it would be your parents. the group of spanish players at the barrier crowded around jenni helped you to relax. your parents were nowhere in sight, and jenni sent you a questioning look. she remembered meeting your parents before, and they had been huge fans of the team, never missing a game.

"jenni!" you hopped up over the barrier and straight into her arms. she hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i didn't know you were visiting."

"well, that would ruin the surprise. where are your parents? i wanted to say hi." jenni looked around the friends and family section. you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, unsure of what you should say to her. "they're usually always here."

"i wouldn't know, we don't talk anymore," you muttered under your breath. you were standing close enough to jenni for her to hear you, but alexia should have been too far away. however, you could tell by the way that her face contorted that she had definitely heard you. "i don't live there anymore."

"what!" alexia exclaimed. you backed up to put some distance between the two of you, using jenni as a human shield as you did. "since when?"

"since they kicked me out. i don't want to talk about it, especially not with you of all people," you said. there was a bite to your voice that alexia hadn't heard in quite some time. you had definitely been distant with her, but it had been a long time since you had been snappy with her like that.

"after this, let's go to dinner, okay?" jenni suggested. you nodded before you raced off to shower and get changed.

…

"you know that alexia only acts like an ass because she cares about you, right?" jenni asked you. she had been trying to get you to talk about what happened, but you very obviously did not want to. "where have you been staying at?"

"lucy let me move in with her," you answered. jenni was relieved that it was someone responsible. alexia was the obvious choice, but there seemed to be some tension there that definitely hadn't been the last time jenni came to visit.

"did alexia have anything to do with you getting kicked out?" jenni asked. she was afraid of the answer, already having invited alexia to dinner. technically, it had always been her, alexia, mapi, and ingrid going out, but she had to invite you when she saw you at the game.

"not directly i guess, but it was hard living there when all they wanted was for me to be just like alexia. they thought i was too focused on things outside of football, so much so that they stopped letting me go to school. by the time i left, they only ever gave me my work whenever i asked to do something else instead," you said. jenni looked pissed as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. "i know that i shouldn't be mad at alexia, but i can't help it."

"i understand," jenni told you. she leaned over as the car came to a stop to press a kiss to your cheek. "come on, everybody's waiting for us."

"is alexia there?" you didn't even really need to ask. you knew that jenni hung out with alexia every single time that she came back to spain.

"alexia, olga, ingrid, and mapi are all there. don't worry though, i won't let alexia start anything," jenni promised. you sighed and followed her into the restaurant. almost immediately, mapi pulled you into a hug, going off about how sorry she was that she didn't know anything was up before. ingrid was quick to follow suit, but alexia stayed back, unsure of whether she was welcome to hug you or not anymore.

dinner was nice, even if it was a bit awkward because of alexia's silence. the woman was usually pretty quiet, but she had never gotten quiet like she was then. jenni, ingrid, and mapi worked on distracting you from the tension, but it didn't work. finally, olga seemed to have had enough and pushed for alexia to talk to you.

"you don't have to tell me where you're staying, but are you safe and happy?" alexia asked. you nodded, smiling a little as thought about all the things lucy now did to make sure of that. you were certain that ona had a big part in a lot of the movie and game nights that you got to frequently enjoy, as well as keeping you on your school work. you'd still graduate late because of all the things your parents let you miss, but because of lucy, you hadn't fallen too terribly behind.

"lucy takes care of me, and ona reminds her to let me have fun," you said. alexia seemed to relax a little at that, a small smile gracing her face. "i won't go back to them, no matter what you or anybody else tells me. i'd quit the team and run away before i went back."

"you are being taken care of, that's what matters. just, next time that something big happens, talk to me. i need to know these things because i'm your captain, but also because i care about you too. if you're hurting or something is bothering you, i want to know so that i can help you," alexia said. you swallowed back some tears, not having felt like alexia was truly in your corner for some time. she seemed to notice this and stood up and walked around the table. "i'm sorry that i haven't been a very good friend to you."

"it's okay, i don't make it easy," you mumbled against her shoulder.

…

you weren't sure which of the girls had texted lucy, but she greeted you at the door with open arms. you were led straight back to her bedroom, where ona was waiting with snacks and a movie loaded up. you let the two of them cuddle you, even if lucy pretended that she didn't want to.

"dinner go okay?" lucy asked as she ran her fingers through your hair.

"it went fine. alexia and i cleared things up," you told her. you knew that was what lucy really wanted to hear about. ona let out a happy hum at your news, glad that maybe things wouldn't be so awkward later on.

"that's good, you've been very mature about this," lucy complimented. you glanced up at her, absolutely beaming. lucy chuckled and shook her head as she wiped a bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth. "now, the two of you keep it down. i'm getting some well deserved rest."

"goodnight granny," you teased. lucy swatted at you, rolling her eyes as ona started laughing.

"don't encourage her," lucy grumbled.

[spidybaby]

Canceled Flight

Summary: Pedri and you never expected that a canceled flight was going to make you label your relationship.

Warnings: cursing.

"Mamá, leave the refrigerator alone." Pedri laughs, watching his mom go through the things inside. "You are going to be late."

"I'm just making sure you have everything, I don't want you not eating because you don't have food."

He rolls his eyes. "I can cook an egg."

"But you don't do it, son." His father says, walking with his luggage in hand.

"Guys, let's go." Fer shouts. "The Uber is outside, let's go."

Pedri helps his parents with their luggage, Fer was placing his next to him. "Hey, text me when you're back home." He whispers.

"Will do," he smiles. "Have fun at home, say hi to grandma for me." He hugs his brother

Fee smiles, hugging him and joining his parents inside the car. "Bye!" Pedri shakes his hand in the air.

He walks back home, grabbing his phone and texting you that he will be ready in a few minutes.

He runs upstairs to get his sneakers. You suggested taking a walk around the gated community, just to talk.

He likes the idea, mostly because he will spend time with you. The other good thing is that nobody will bother the two of you while doing that.

He grabbed his keys, walked to the end of the street, and knocked on your door. The best part about you is that you live so close to him.

You two met up one day when you were running. He was late for a meeting, weird thing about him, when he exit his house he didn't even payed attention or looked at both sides.

He knocked you over, helping you to get up. He apologized with barely a few words, eyes roaming between you and his car.

You laughed at how worried yet how in a hurry he was. Reassuring him that you were fine and that he could leave.

You then found him again when he was entering his home. He left his car on the driveway.

"Not in a hurry this time?" You asked, smiling at him.

"Hola!" He smiled. "I'm still feel bad." He says.

"Don't. It was a mistake." You chuckle. "I like your car." You say, trying to make conversation.

"If you know how to drive, I can borrow it anytime." He smiles. "That way, I can make it up for throwing you in the ground."

"I'm Y/n." You extended your hand.

"I'm Pedri." He shakes your hand.

That small talk got you two exchanging numbers. You went on a few dates, nothing crazy.

He wanted to keep you on the low before even formalizing anything between you two. That way, if anybody took a photo he wouldn't mind

He likes you very much. He even told Fer about you, telling him that he never felt that way about aby other girl.

"Oh hi!" You say, hugging him and kissing his cheek. "Ready for a walk?"

He humms yes, kissing your cheek a few times. You laugh at the feeling of his beard. Arms tightening the hug.

"Let's go!" He says, separating from the hug and taking your hand.

You two walk for a little in silence, hand in hand as you enjoy each others company. You love how his thumb is caressing your hand.

"My dad wants to get a dog." You say.

"Really?" He smiles. "Get a labrador. That way, we can match dogs."

"I'll suggest it." You laugh, hugging his arm, planting a kiss on the side of his head. "I'm going with my sibling to the game this weekend." You tell him.

"Really?" He says, excited about the idea of you there. "Did you buy the tickets?"

"Not yet, my dad is the one that's going to get t-"

"I'll get them for you." He smiles. "Vip, section too." He jokes with you, raising his eyebrows. "And I can maybe lean you a jersey."

"Oh, yes!" You say excited. "I want the 19, please."

His smile drops. "Hahaha." He fakes laughing. "I think you would appreciate the 8 more."

"Nah, I'll stick with the 19." You smile. You get to a small kids' playground. "Let's sit on the swings." You pull him.

You make him sit on the swing, pushing him to move him. The way he's laughing is so cute to you.

"Time out, come here." He says, smiling like crazy.

You move to sit next to him, but he's quicker and pulls you over his lap, sitting you there. With one hand, he's grabbing your waist, and the other is grabbing the chain of the swing.

You two laugh as he swings you carefully. "We are going to fall, Pedri." You say.

"Fine," he says, stopping. "I was thinking that maybe we can eat something while watching a movie." He says, kissing your shoulder.

"I love that idea." You smile at him. Hand caressing his arm that's around your waist. "Let's go."

You stand up, helping him do the same. You two walk back to his place. This time, you make more conversation.

"What are you craving?" You ask him.

"What are you craving?" He repeats the question.

"Well, considering I can eat whatever I want when I want to." You laugh. "I'll let you pick."

"Maybe pizza." He smiles.

You feel how the small water drops start falling onto you and him.

"Oh shit." You say, grabbing his hand and running a little.

The small drops quickly became a very strong rain. Wetting you and him.

"Why did we even walk that far?" He laughs. You stopped, pulling him. "What?"

"We are already wet." You pull him into your arms, kissing him. "Might as well do that." You say as you separate.

He kisses you again, hugging your waist. "Let's go, I don't want you to get sick."

You get to his place. He asked you to wait while he brings a towel and a bin for the wet clothes. You do as you are told, taking your shoes and socks off.

"I have this bathrobe. It's a little bigger, but you can cover with it. I'll start the dryer." He says.

"Help me with it." You ask, making him nod.

He passes the robe around your shoulder, grabbing it to make sure it doesn't fall. You take off your top, eyes glued to his.

You can't help the feeling on your stomach, not even when you take off your bra his eyes moved away from yours.

"Thank you." You say, tightening the belt of the robe. "My leggings are kind of water resistant, so they will get dried faster, no dried needed." You smile at him.

"I'll make sure to hang it for you." He smiles. "I'll grab you a t-shirt, so you can be comfortable. Why don't you sit, I'll be back."

You nod, walking inside his house. Taking a seat at his couch. You notice the framed pictures of him and his family.

"Do you like pasta?" He asks, walking inside with a short and a towel around his shoulders. His bare chest makes you feel some type of way. "Here's that shirt, I think it will cover you so you don't feel hot with the robe."

"Thank you." You smile. "Need some help with dinner?"

"Well, hope you don't mind eating reheated pasta, my brother made it for me a few hours ago."

"I can make us some garlic breads if you like that." You say.

"Joer', that sounds amazing."

"Just need some garlic, butter, a pan, and the bread." You smile at him. "I can add cheese if you want to."

He nods happy, handing you all the stuff you need to cook. He does his part, and you do yours.

You open the robe a little, the making of the foor was making you feel hot. "Want some lemonade?" He asks, kissing your shoulder while he looks at you placing the bread on a plate.

You nod, thanking him. You help him serve the pasta while he fixes the table. You love how he's so affectioned and so clingy.

You two eat and talk about the next match. You asked him to spoiler you either any strategy that they planned.

He loves talking with you, it was so easy and so simple. Yet it feels like he knows you all his life. He wanted to move forward with you. Not doubt.

"Let me help you with the dishes." You grab both yours and his plate. Bringing them to the kitchen to wash them.

"Let's place them on the dishwasher, it's easier." He grabs your waist, making you turn. "Let me do it." He smiles.

You nod, hands locking on his neck. You kiss him, loving the way his lips feel on yours. He grabs your waist, lifting you and placing you on top of the counter.

You watch as he does the work. You love how he looks at you while doing it. "Done."

You open your arms to him. He loves how you embrace him. "La verdad si quiero esa camiseta con el 8." (Honestly, I do want that jersey with the 8 on it) you smile, kissing him.

He deepens the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist. You move your hand to his hair, pulling it a little bit.

He can't help the small whine that he let out. Making you smirk into the kiss. "Want some ice cream?" He asks, separating to take air.

You blush a little. "Yes, I would love that." You whisper.

He pecks you again, smiling at you. He walks over to his fridge, taking the pot of ice cream and grabbing a spoon.

He sets between your legs. "Open your mouth."

Your stomach turns because of the tone he's using. You do as you are told, letting him spoon feed you.

"It's so good." You smile.

You take the pot and spoon from his hands, feeding him with the ice cream. "It really is good." He smiles.

You left the container next to you. Grabbing his cheeks, you go back to kiss him. You love that he tastes like an ice cream.

You are so into the kiss that you don't hear how the door opens and closes. You are too focused on the way pedri is humming against your lips.

You hear someone clearing their throat. Pedri separates from you, turning to see his brother standing there with a luggage. (🧍🏻)

"Mierda." He mumble.

You feel the embarrassment of your life. You close the rope and jump off the counter. Fer is looking at you two. Speechless.

"Fer, can you get me some water?" Pedri's father asks. You just got more red. "Hi!" He says, smiling.

You smile a little, feeling shy. Waving with your hand, not trusting your voice.

Pedri clears his throat. "You guys are back." He nervously laughs, he scratches hmthe back of his neck. "This is Y/n." He smiles at you, tying to not make the situation more awkward.

"Hello, Miss Y/n." His dad smiles. "I'm Fernando." He smiles, walking over to you and extending his hand.

You took his hand, shaking it lightly. "Nice to meet you, sir." You whisper.

"And this is my brother." Pedri says.

Fer just nods, trying not to laugh at the situation. "Hi." He smiles.

You whisper a hi back at him. You want to die, you never expected to meet his family like that. Not while you're only wearing Pedri's t-shirt, your panties and a oversized robe.

"Fer, why don't you reheat the pasta." You hear a woman voice. "Also, where's Pedri? He left the dryer on."

You want to jump out of the window, not only were you half naked in front of his father and brother, but you also ate the pasta his mother asked his brother to reheat.

You look at the dishwasher, knowing the empty pasta bowl was there. Pedri noticed how uncomfortable you look.

His mother stops on her tracks, noticing a new face. She just smiles, not thinking anything bad. "Hola."

You smile back, and you can feel your red face. You wave at her.

"The dryer was on because we were out, and the rain started, so we got all wet." He ober explains. "This is Y/n." He smiles, pointing at you. "And there's no more pasta." He whispers.

"And there's no more ice cream, I see." Rosy jokes, noticing the container on the counter. "It's okay, we can eat other thing."

You turn to the melted container of ice cream. You then look at Pedri, he feels weird.

"I'll go to my room. Help me with the luggage, dad?" Fer says, making his father nod.

His father and him walk upstairs with the three suitcases. Rosy stakes a seat at the wooden stool.

"Our flight was canceled due to the rain, but look, no more rain now." She says, mad about the situation. "Anyways. Y/n, is it my mind or I have seen you around?" Rosy asks.

"I live at the end of the block." You smile at her. "I've seen you a few times." You say, remembering that you said your greeting to her on the street as you walked back home.

"Right, I remember your face. You run."

"Yes, I do." You nod, smiling but still feeling awkward. "I'm sorry about the pasta." You apologized.

"It's okay, was it good?"

"Very, I'm also sorry about the ice cream." You say.

She nods, not caring but enjoying the way pedri, and you look so uncomfortable.

"Are you Pedri's friend?"

You think on what to say for a few seconds, you were more than just his friend but nothing that you and him ever talked about.

"She's-" Pedri starts. Clearing his throat. "She's my girlfriend." He says, passing his arm around your waist. "She's actually coming to the game this weekend."

You blush at his comment, you really like him, and you love the idea of him being yours. You place your hand on his.

"I'm sorry we met this way." You say to her.

"Don't worry," she chuckles. "I hope next time it's better. Now, if you excuse me. I'll be in my room."

You both say your goodbyes to her. You wait till she's gone. Laughing at how awkward the whole thing was.

"I think our clothes are dry." He says, grabbing your hand and walking with you to the laundry room. "I'm sorry about that shit show." He says, head resting on your shoulder.

"I want to die, honestly." You laugh again.

"Can we do it together?" He asks, making you nod. "I'll let you change, I'll be outside."

You wait till he's out of the room, taking a big breath. You feel like if you are in fever dream.

You grab your clothes from the dryer, dress yourself, and try to fix your hair on the reflection of the machine.

You open the door, finding him on his phone. "All done." You smile at him. "I think my shoes are still wet, but that's something I can fix at home."

"Let me walk you." He opens the door for you.

The walk home was slow and silent. You don't know what to say and he's afraid he might say the wrong thing.

"We're here." He says.

You grab the small key you left on the pouch of your leggings. You open the door, thanking him for walking your home.

You wave goodbye at him, closing the door. You stayed there for a few seconds. Trying to process everything.

You hear three knocks on the door. Opening it, you find Pedri. "Hi." You whisper, smiling.

"I forgot something." He says, breathless.

You open the door, confused about what he might have forgotten. "What did you forget?"

"This."

He grabs your hips, pulling you over to him. His lips clash over yours. You place your hands on his cheeks, bringing him closer.

When the air feels necessary, you two pull away. Waiting only a few seconds before going back to the kiss.

"Let's repeat this date tomorrow." He says, smiling at you.

You bit your lip, pecking him. "Deal, you have to make something up to me." He frowns, not understanding what you are saying. "You never asked me if I wanted to be your girlfriend."

He then smiles, understanding everything. "I'll make sure to make it up. Don't want you to say no." He says, hands on your cheeks. His thumbs caressing your face.

"I won't, just ask me this time." You laugh.

You kiss again. You love the feeling.

"Go home, González." You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him jokingly. "It's late, and you need to rest for tomorrow's training."

"Will do, boss." He laughs. "I have to train extra hard, don't want my girlfriend to feel embarrassed of my game."

"She won't." You say, caressing his cheek. "Text me when you are home?"

"Will do, preciosa." He smiles, quickly getting closer and pecking you one last time. "Now I can leave in peace." He laughs, making you laugh with him.

[weird-is-life]

I saw you’re taking Aaron requests… I would love if you write where Aaron and reader were in love in college but obviously life happened and they split apart and they meet up again all these years later and how you think their reuinion would go 🥹 ty

Hii, lovely🥰 ty for this cute request....hope you like it!! Warnings: fluff, mom!reader, use of y/n, mentions of school, (1.1k)

Aaron is running late. Nothing unusual with how busy he gets with the work, but it still bothers him. It's the parent-teacher conference, and he really didn't want to be late. Especially when he knows that Jack's teacher put him as the last parent of the day (knowing how long he works from previous experiences).

There is only one car in the school parking lot when Aaron finally arrives.

He basically sprints from his car to Jack's classroom, even though he called the teacher he would be late. Aaron knocks on the door, and comes in.

"Good evening," Aaron greets the teacher warmly, extending his right hand to her. " I'm sorry for being late. Thank you for waiting for me."

"It's no problem, Mr. Hotchner, " she says, "you aren't the only one late today." She adds with an amused smile.

"Oh, really? " Aaron's always the last one here, so he is a bit surprised to hear that.

"Yes, she should be here soon, too...-" the teacher replies, just as there's another knock on the door.

"Would it be a problem for you, Mr. Hotchner if I combined you two last parents of the day together?" the teacher asks. She, as expected, wants to go home already, too.

Aaron understands that more than anybody, " of course not. I don't mind at all." And why should he mind? Jack's always more than good in school, great grades and well-behaved. So he's not afraid for the other parent to hear that. He wouldn't be afraid even if Jack wasn't doing the best in school either.

"Thank you so much," the teacher says before she gets up, and opens the door.

The wind gets knocked out of Aaron.

It's you.

Fuck, it's really you.

And gosh. You look even more beautiful then he could remember.

You were just two young fools in college the last time he saw you. And now....And now Aaron can't believe his eyes. He should have known you would never grow out of your beauty.

"Aaron? Aaron Hotchner? Oh my god, is it really you?" You can't seem to believe the sight in front of you either.

Your eyes are wide open in shock, amd a small smile appears on your lips. He looks exactly as you thought he would.

Still so handsome, and the few streaks of white hair making him look it even more. And don't even get me started on the suit he wears.

"Yeah, it's me," he chuckles. Aaron stands up, and out of the routine he extends his hand out to you.

You completely ignore it (along with the etiquette of what's an appropriate greeting after seeing somebody after a long, long time), and embrace Aaron.

Aaron heart skips a beat, but he embraces you back. Maybe just a tiny bit less tightly than you.

The teacher watches this whole commotion in pure shock as she goes to sit down in her chair.

The click of her heels against the floor is the thing that brings you out of your delighted shock, and you pull away with a light blush on your face.

"I take it you two know each other?" the teacher jokes, and you and Aaron take the seats opposite her.

"Yes," you both say at the same time.

"Uh, college..." you also add. The teacher just politely nods, and starts talking about Jack and your son.

Oh god. You have a son, too! Aaron haven't even realised that you were there for the same reason as him since he's laid his eyes on you. It's all like a fever dream.

The counseling finally comes to an end, and Aaron is more than eager to get out of the class just to catch up with you for a bit.

As soon as you two exit the school, and head into the parking lot you are looking at each other.

"Oh my gosh, how long has it been, Aaron?" you question with a smile, and you look him over a few more times.

"More then 20 years," Aaron tells you with a same smile as yours. His eyes all over you, too.

"Oh, wow. We are getting old huh?" You chuckle. Aaron laughs a belly deep laugh.

Surprisingly, it's so good to hear that you both have the same laughs as you did in college. It stirs something in both of your chests.

"I am," Aaron says, "but you are definitely not." His compliment catches you off guard, yours cheeks heating up for whatever reason like some school girl's.

You smile sheepishly at him," you don't look too bad yourself."

Aaron only chuckles at your words. "So what are you doing here?" He asks, suddenly more serious and so much more curious. "I thought you lived across the world as a big lawyer...?"

You nod with an amused but a bit sad smile, " yes, but you know, life happened, and I got a pretty great offer for a position here so I just took it, and moved here a few weeks after that...."

"And I was actually wondering if you still lived here-" you get interrupted mid sentence by your phone ringing.

"I'm sorry," you say, and pick up the phone. It's clear that it's the nanny calling you, and Aaron knows you have to hurry home before you even hang up the phone.

With your phone in your pocket you tell Aaron with a regretful expression," I'm sorry, Aaron. I have to run home, the nanny can't stay much longer."

"No, it's totally okay. I should hurry home to Jack, too."

"I wish we could talk longer, Aaron, and catch up on things. Would you- Would you like to go for a coffee someday soon?" You hesitantly ask, and Aaron just thinks how there's no reason for you to be unsure of his answer, when he would always say yes.

"It's like you're reading my mind," Aaron smiles sincerely at you," I wanted to ask you the same thing. Here," he swiftly scribbles his personal number on his business card, and hands it to you.

"Call me?"

"Or you call me," you basically do the same thing with your personal number on your business card, and you hand it to him.

"I will," he promises, and you know he's honest with his intentions to do just that. You could always count on is words, his promises.

"Great, I'll see you soon then. Goodbye Aaron Hotchner." You say your goodbye. You want to get in your car as quickly as you can just to calm your racing heart.

"Goodbye, y/n." Aaron says softly, his eyes following your figure until you get in your car.

He even waits for you to drive off first just to make sure he didn't just imagine this whole thing.

And he is more than relieved to know he didn't.

And lets just say that Jack wonders why his dad keeps smiling so weirdly once Aaron finally gets home.

[luveline]

hiii jade! can you write something for spencer x badass!reader who despite being sick af, still shows up to work? ur writing always makes my day!! :)

hi, tysm for requesting my love ♡ fem

"What's up with you?" Morgan asks. 

You don't have the energy to tell him to mind his business. "Nothing, I'm fine. What's up with you?" 

"Sorry, are you asking me how I am?" 

Morgan seems to think that you don't like him. It makes sense, in a way, because you've never been outwardly affectionate to him or even friendly, and he's constantly teasing you. But the reason you didn't like him or anyone on the team when you first joined beyond civil professionalism was because of how they treated Spencer. 

You're older now, you've learned that they love him. But they don't appreciate him as much as they should, and so you resolve to appreciate them at a similar level. Spencer gets every ounce of love you have to give, and Morgan gets a smidge when he deserves it. 

"Earth to Y/N. You sick?" Morgan asks. 

You rub the space between your brows. "Sick of stupid questions, sure." 

"Feisty. Where's Reid? Need me to give him a talk about being a better boyfriend?" 

"He's not my boyfriend." 

"He's your something." Morgan's grin softens into a more serious expression, and for a few seconds, he takes you in. You hate being looked at with concern, standing as he asks, "Seriously, are you okay?" 

"I'm okay, Morgan, thank you." 

You speed walk away from the desk to the kitchenette on unsteady footing, where Spencer stands like the light at the end of a dark tunnel making a cup of tea. He bobs the tea bag up and down slowly, his eyebrows pinched together, as though this cup of tea is the most important thing in the world to get right. Your chest aches as you move, your breath noticeably shallow. Spencer must hear you, lifting his arm to gesture for you to come closer. 

"Hey," he says. He usually speaks to you softly but this is a new level of gentleness. It goes without saying that if he were anybody else, his tone would drive you up the wall with annoyance, but he's Spencer. It must be the sugary brown of his eyes and the puppy dog essence to his smile, eager to please, that makes his concern a welcome one. "You okay? Come here." 

You stand obediently at his side. 

"You okay?" he asks again. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why does everybody keep asking me that?" you mumble, eyeing his cup of tea longingly. Your throat is sandpaper. 

Spencer slides it toward you without comment. "Because you look sick. Not that you look bad, you don't, you always look nice, but your eyes are glassy, and you look a little clammy." He turns sideways. "You want your tea?" 

"It's for me?" 

"Yeah, it's for you. I put honey in it. I don't know if you like honey…" 

You take the mug and drink it. Honey or not, you're gonna drink every sip, and not just because your throat is deteriorating rapidly. Spencer could make you a cup of hot dish water and you'd pinch your nose to knock it back. 

"Thank you," you say in relief. 

"Sure. Wanna go sit down?" 

"I don't need to sit down." 

"I'm not saying you do. I just," —Spencer laughs, his hand on your shoulder— "I need you to peer assess my last witness account file. You do it quicker than Morgan does." 

"Oh, okay. Yeah, let's go do it." 

Spencer shepherds you to his desk. Morgan peers not so subtly over the partition as you sit in Spencer's chair and roll into the front of his desk, reaching for a pen from his pen pot. You drink blind sips of tea between lines, reading over his file slowly. Your eyes grow heavier as the tea warms your chest, and Spencer's hand falls to your shoulder again. 

"You should go home," he says quietly. He tricked you into sitting down, that's obvious now. 

"I'm okay." 

"You need to rest when you're sick or you'll only get worse," he says, his breath fanning against the short hairs by your ear. 

You close your eyes at the sensation. "I can't go home."

"Why not?" 

"Because I…" You list off. You're sure there was something to say, something important, but Spencer's presence stands behind you and your body must realise that if you want safety to pass out, this will be the place. 

"Y/N," he says sympathetically. 

"Can't drive," you mumble. 

"I'll get you home, don't worry. You just sit here for a second while I sort it out, okay? Don't get up." He rubs down your arm roughly. For once, you get a sense of total confidence from him. You trust that he's gonna get you home in one piece. "Morgan, can you watch her?" 

"'M not a kid," you say. 

"Course not. I'm still gonna look after you, though," Spencer says. 

He takes you home in a borrowed work SUV. You're not sick enough to need carrying, but the moment he sits you down on the couch you fall into a deep, sweaty sleep. When you wake a little later, it's to three extremely important things; the first, a bowl of chicken soup with fresh made croutons; the second, Spencer, his top button undone and smiling as he squeezes your lax hand; and third, your saviour, a jumbo box of Tylenol, sleep aid and decongestants included. You remind yourself to kiss Spencer's cheek when you aren't totally dying. 

[thematpatcu]

So uh,,, just gonna let this go here,,,

Off Night

BillxFordxFiddleford

Silly eepy time fic I made in a cold sweat trust

“Specs really is tired tonight, huh? Must be tiring being worked down to the bone.” This again. Bill had already gone through this whole conversation 30 minutes ago, and Ford thought he had dropped the issue by now.

‘He’s fine, Bill, he’s probably just having an off day.’ It happens to the best of us, and if anybody can pull through this, it’s him and Fiddleford. They’re not like everybody else, they can achieve anything they put their minds to, as long as they’re willing to put in the hours.

“Off night.” For a moment, Bill sounded cross, but he quickly returned to his usual cheery demeanor. “It’s almost midnight, Sixer. Don’t tell me you’re losing track of time again.”

‘We’ve worked longer.’

Right as he heard Bill sigh, Fiddleford spoke up. “Stanford..?”

“Hm? Yes, Partner?”

He was avoiding eye contact with him. “‘S been a long night, and I oughta get home soon-“

“But we’re so close to hitting the next big break on the portal!” Stanford shot him a desperate look, “Please, Fidds, just five more minutes…”

Fiddleford fidgeted with his hands, a wobbly smile appearing across his face, “Right, I know, but, portal’ll be there tomorrow, won’t it? Plus, I gave ya five more minutes…” He shrunk in on himself, mumbling now, “thirty minutes ago…”

‘Can’t believe you’re making me do this, IQ.’

“Do what?” Before Fiddleford could ask why he just asked that, Stanford slumped against the desk, rising back up with yellow eyes.

“Alright, Mr Inventor, I’ve heard ya loud and clear!” He stood tall, hands at his hips, grinning unnaturally wide at the hillbilly.

“Bill..?”

“The one and only! So, ol’ Sixer won’t let ya sleep, huh?” He cocked his head to the side, his smile turning more cocky.

Fiddleford looked down, to his left and right, anywhere that wasn’t Bill’s face. “Oh, it ain’t like that..”

“I can tell when you’re lyingggg, smart guyyyy!” He crowded into Fidd’s personal space, looming over him like he always did.

“If Stanford wants us to stay up… I will. ‘S what you do when ya care fer someone.” He was doing that whole starry-eyed look again. Bill was starting to notice it on the hillbilly more and more.

It was disgusting. He hated it. “You’re going to bed whether I have to make you or not.”

Fiddleford crossed his arms, turning to face him in his chair head on. He stared Bill in the eyes, a determined (if tired) look on his face. “Make me, then.” Bill hated that look, the inventor had used it on him before and it made Stanford’s stupid body get all warm and jumpy every time.

His voice was low when he found it, “Careful what you wish for, Specs.” Bill lunged at Fiddleford, but missed, allowing him time to slip away and run off into another room of the house. “YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CANT HIDE!” He knew he wouldn’t go easy if he had egged him on, but the face Bill makes because of it is worth it every time, even if he’s very certain he’s going to die now. His hiding spot is good, sure, but the dropped pots and pans might have given him away.

Bill is close, he can tell. He can feel his presence looming closer. Bill slows his pace, tutting in front of him like a disappointed teacher. “I really expected better from you, Banjo.”

Fidd sighed, standing up, walking into the room, lit up by the moonlight shining through the window. One of the only ones that didn’t have Bill in it. Though, Fidd supposed, it’s got Bill in it right now. His eyes are in the reflection. “Ya really just want me to go to bed that badly?”

“Yep!” Bill took his hand, (er, more so his wrist,) dragging Fiddleford to his and Stanford’s shared room. He brought Fidd to the edge of the bed, slapping his back so hard he fell forward onto it. “Golly, ya fell real easy! Ahahaha! Just like how ya fell for Ford.”

“What was that last part?” Fidd looked at Bill, red as a cherry, but he was already gone. Stanford fell on top of him, completely knocked out cold. He tried to move the bigger man off of him as gently as he could, Stanford hitting the bed with a loud thud. He immediately started snoring.

Fiddleford chuckled to himself, got under the blankets, and fell asleep.