#and i saw them doing that since i was beelining for them

[todayisafridaynight]

through all the practice sawashiro fights ive done this morning ive decided he has a really weird grudge against eri for whatever reason

[oceantornadoo]

inspired by a dramoine fic i read! simon riley x f!reader

it’s the third time today someone has handed you simon’s paperwork and you’re starting to get confused. in fact, there’s the distinct feeling that you’ve missed a memo.

first, it was the visiting captain, so you couldn’t blame him for confusing lieutenants. but then it was johnny turning in his mission report, muttering something about “cannae be late this time if ah give it ye, lass.” which was odd, considering you weren’t his direct report (you were gaz’s). but what really sent you over the edge was getting called into price’s office and being met with a load of folders addressed to one Lt. Ghost (Confidential).

“sir, i’m a bit confused as to why you can’t just give these to him yourself.” price looked up from his desk, eyes flickering from under his boonie hat. “hav’ you seen ‘im today, lieutenant?” you nodded immediately while trying to scoop all of this paperwork (that was not yours!) into your arms. “yessir, i saw him before breakfast and then during training and then…what?” price had silently quirked an eyebrow, his beard echoing the movement. “i haven’t seen ‘im all day, so i figure it’s faster for you to deliver since you’re more well-versed in his movements than i am.” huh. “i’m sure he’s just doing his ghost thing, y’know? slipping into shadows and…”, price patiently gave you an exasperated look, “but i’ll get these to him, sir. see you later!”

the problem was, you knew exactly where simon was. in your office.

his own had an unfortunate ground level window near the track, so he was always complaining about nosy recruits until you offered to share some office space. temporarily, of course. it’s not like you were using all the empty space anyways and it made it much easier to get the opinion of your fellow lieutenant on a report by walking over to his desk, rather than going up and down stairs. that was the second point he made, and who were you to say no?

after pushing open your office door, you beelined for simon’s desk, dumping the stacks of folders on his desk. “wot’s this?” his mask was off so you could see his eyes widen at the mess of papers. “everyone now thinks i’m a drop off box for your paperwork, so i got burdened with all of this when i was doing my rounds.” he nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea. “cheers, love.”

“what do you mean, cheers? don’t you think it’s odd for them to give me your paperwork? and why do we even have so much paperwork? i swear im drowning in it this week.” he snorted at your last sentence, opening the first folder in front of him while you rounded your desk, sitting in your comfy chair with a hmpf. “yer out an’ about more than me, tha’s all.” well, that was true. the infamous ghost was not known to be a sociable person on base. “i guess…” you turned to your old radio, passed down by a retired captain, and turned on simon’s favorite classical station.

“ya want mess or the pub tonight, love?” another great thing about being on base with simon - you never had to pay for dinner. “actually, that thai place we like is doing a special tonight.” he gave you a half-smirk, one cheek ticking up. “bloody raccoon. we had thai two nights ago.” you didn’t respond, instead blinking your best impression of puppy dog eyes at him. simon sighed, then shook his head at his desk. “olrigh’. the things i do.” you smiled and winked, dipping your head back down to your desk. “thanks, si.”

-

two weeks later, you were prepping for a duo mission with simon. price had been grilling the two of you for the past three hours, making sure you had everything memorized. satisfied, he leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his temples, the feeling of a headache coming on. “one more thing.” both of you snapped your head up at price, desperate to leave and eat. you’d already missed dinner and your stomach was complaining.

“the safe house is pretty small, basically a shack. one bed, no couch. i assumed ‘s fine since y’r datin-“ “‘s fine, captain.” simon cut him off, an out of character move that had you frowning. “it’s fine, cap. not like ive never slept on a floor before.” now price was frowning at what you said. he turned to simon, who shook his head imperceptibly before becoming still again. price’s brow furrowed but he didn’t push further. he got up from his chair, eyes flitting suspiciously between you two. “i’ll see you at 0600.”

“what was that about?” you whispered to simon after as you walked down the hall. “‘s nothin’.” you were missing something but it was so unclear what. “he thinks that we’re datin-“ “said it’s nothin’, sweetheart. he’s an old man. let’s get some food in you, yeah?” you nodded, letting him guide you to the kitchen. price wasn’t that old. and you were not dating simon riley.

-

the mission was beautiful, your best one in years. it was the first duo mission between you and simon, so the nerves of pulling your own weight had settled in hard. thankfully, your skills balanced each other out and you’d gotten the target in record time. now, all you had to do was wait in the safe house for exfil.

“you were so good.” you whispered once he’d locked the door. he only hummed a response, checking exit and entry points while you set up your packs, scrounging up MREs and testing the shack for electricity. price wasn’t kidding - it was practically a studio apartment. one bed, a bathroom and a decrepit stove. the soldier part of you was fine with it, but that small soft part of you ached for the warmth of your apartment. memories of yelling at simon for using all your shampoo even though he didn’t live there, of him running you a bath after a long day of training.

“you were good too, baby.” he snuck up from behind your spot on the floor and lifted you onto the mattress that had definitely seen better days. you hadn’t even checked it for bed bugs yet. “c’mere.” he pulled you into his lap, unbuckling your tac vest as you pulled off your bandana. you tugged off his mask - the hard shell since you were on a mission - and ran your nails through his short haircut. simon started kissing your neck, wet and sloppy like he couldn’t get enough. the unrestrained want he displayed sometimes scared you. the respective pulsing in both your chest and cunt scared you more.

“so are you sleeping on the floor or am i?” he flipped you over, your back flush with the mattress as simon loomed over you. there was still eyeblack around his eyes, caught on his blonde eyelashes as well, and you couldn’t help the hand that reached up to brush some of it away. “y’r funny, sweetheart.” you grinned at that - a real toothy smile. he bent down to kiss you, scarred lips caressing your own. simon bit your lip and you moaned, sliding your legs out from under him to wrap them around his torso. when you tugged him in he went willingly, grinding into your clothed cunt. his tac vest was still on, scraping against your shirt, hardening your nipples.

“keepin’ you in this bed all night.” cold fingers dipped past the waist of your pants. you were already wet, his fingers sliding easily up and down your slit as they warmed up. that’s when you realized he still had his glove on, his movements harsher than normal. wide eyes met his own, and simon stopped so you could make a decision.

it didn’t take much as you dug your heels into his back harder, meeting him in a sloppy kiss as his gloved thumb played with your clit. “fuckin’ made for me.” he whispered, and you chalked it up to dirty talk because obviously, you weren’t together. he just knew exactly what to do, giving your clit the right amount of pressure as his other fingers teased your hole, the stretch burning more than usual. it only took a few flicks and you were off, your orgasm settling through your bones like a warm cup of tea. “jesus, si.” he grinned, his scarred lips pulling up to show a beautiful smile. “know ya like th’ back of my hand, huh?” you shook your head, capturing the idiot in another kiss.

-

after the mission, after debrief and a hot shower, you made your way back to your base office. thankfully, paperwork had only slightly piled up. one envelope stood out though - a thick card-stock with glossy, swooping letters. an invite to london’s military gala, addressed to a Lieutenant & Lieutenant. simon’s name was next to yours, connected by a singular symbol. you turned to him in disbelief. simon had been going through his own backlog, but his head snapped up under the focus of your glare.

“simon, are we…dating?”

-

this was fun!!! check out the fic i linked it was so good and i couldn’t put it down.

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the ‘Wife at First Sight Series’)

For the first time in a long time, Simon feels as if he’s walking on eggshells

He’s 6’4”, easily over 200 pounds of bulking muscle, strikes fear into the heart of each and every enemy he comes across (should they live to tell the tale that is), and yet he feels as though he’s tiptoeing, practically dancing around the issue he refuses to address

Yet you make him feel this way

It’s been months now, of this dance you still haven’t realized you’re apart of, shining on centre stage under the constant spotlight of Simon Riley’s attention, rather than one of the background performers as you seem to believe

He feels as though he’s done everything he can to get the point across to you, other than literally getting down on one knee and asking you those four special words he can’t seem to get himself to speak out loud

As easy as it is to pretend you two truly are husband and wife ‘til death do you part, he’s instead having to watch you leave base in exchange for your lonely flat each night, reminded of the fact that he’s not ballsy enough to just come out and say it to you

You make the Lieutenant nervous for fucks sake, something he hasn’t truly felt in so long he’s grasping for straws, searching for a life raft in these uncharted waters to help him stay afloat

That’s part of why he’s so confused when Gaz finally joins him and Soap in the gun range, landing a friendly smack across the taller man’s broad shoulders, saying something about how he’s ‘really happy for you LT, finally properly asked her, aye?’

“What are you goin’ on about?” Ghost practically grunts out, readjusting the weapon against his shoulder as he glances through the scope of his gun, only partly interested in what the Sergeants answer is, that is until he hears him mention your name

“Just saw her at her desk, talkin’ about how she has a wedding this weekend-” Gaz has barely finished his sentence before Ghost is whipping his skull clad head around, shoving his weapon into Soap’s arms, and beelining out of the armoury towards you, leaving a pair of chuckling Sergeants behind him

They’ve never seen their Lieutenant so whipped before. And the fact that you don’t even know you have this beast of a man wrapped around your dainty little finger makes it all the more entertaining for them

They totally haven’t taken bets on how long it takes for him to break and finally confess his feelings, and Price definitely didn’t put money down on it either

Ghost may as well float into the room on a cloud he’s feeling so overjoyed at the idea of finding you sat at your desk all pretty, chit chatting away with colleagues about the wedding you’ve finally realized he intends to give you, taking all the pressure off of him

Instead, he rounds the corner and overhears the last tidbits of your conversation, pretending as though his stomach doesn’t drop out of him and onto the floor when he realizes you’re telling your desk mate about your sisters wedding this weekend

He should’ve know better, it wouldn’t be that easy

“-not that I’m embarrassed to go without someone. That I don’t care so much about.” He hears you explain, failing to have noticed him behind you quite yet. “God knows it’s been ages since I’ve gone on an actual date anyways. But this is the first time I’m a bridesmaid, and my sister keeps saying I’m apparently the only bridesmaid without a date-”

“Well aren’t you going to bring your husband?” Your colleague asks, cutting you off. Just like everyone else on base, she knows thinks you are in fact Mrs Riley, for all intents and purposes. You open your mouth to correct her and tell her you don’t have a husband, when a deep voice comes up behind you and speaks first.

“‘Course she is.” Ghost replies for you, coming to stand behind you in your chair, sneaking a gloved hand onto your shoulder to offer a slight squeeze of acknowledgment. You lean your head back to glance up at him, offering a soft smile that melts his heart more and more each time he’s lucky enough to see it, to be the reason for it. Sensing she’s now the odd one out, your coworker quietly excuses herself and goes to find someone else to talk water cooler gossip with.

“Oh Ghost! Hi!” You say, reaching your own hand up to squeeze his in return, smile widening when you notice the crinkles next to his eyes that you hope mean he’s smiling as well under the mask. “Oh, you really don’t have to. I mean- I wouldn’t want you to waste a day off just to sit through a stranger’s wedding for who knows how many hours. I barely want to go.”

You try to joke about it, but this really has been causing you unnecessary stress. Your sister apparently doesn’t have enough wedding planning on her plate as it is, seeing as she has enough time to constantly pester you about whether you’ve secured a date yet or not, despite your answer always being no. She knows it’s been forever since you’ve dated anyone seriously, and that finding a date will be more of a chore than showing up without one and enduring your relative comments and questions.

Each time you told her no though, your mind wandered to the tall, dark, muscular man who liked to call himself your husband, imagining the looks on your family’s face if you were to show up with Ghost on your arm. But you never bothered to ask him, not wanting to force him into extending his kindness and charade of a happily married couple outside of work hours.

“I’d be with you for those ‘who knows how many hours?’” Ghost asks, quoting you, watching as you offer him a simple nod in return. “Then that’s the farthest thing from a waste o’ time in my books, love.”

As simple as that, the plan was set. Ghost would be your date to the wedding that weekend.

Now, Ghost was used to not having very much to look forward to in life. He could look forward to a hot shower occasionally, look forward to good pub food instead of mess hall dinners, look forward to a chance to sleep in a little later, simpler things of the sort.

But when you came into his life, he was suddenly looking forward to equally simple, but different things. He looked forward to reading your cute replies to his good morning and good night texts (he still never misses a single one, all these months later), looked forward to seeing your sweet smile greeting him when you arrived to work, looked forward to hearing your pleased hum when you took your first sip of whatever drink he prepared you that day. Essentially, he looked forward to seeing you.

Now though, he feels as if this weekend cannot come soon enough, finding himself practically giddy he’s looking forward to spending more time with you off base so much, feeling like a kid who’s itching to get their hands on their new Christmas gifts.

When he arrives at your flat almost a half hour too early (he just couldn’t wait anymore lovie, you can’t blame the poor man), and you open the door to greet him, he doesn’t think it’s fair to compare this to a gift under the Christmas tree.

No. It’s more like he’s won the goddamn lottery.

Standing before him, is the most beautiful, breathtaking vision he’s ever laid eyes upon in all his years. He half wonders if his knees are legitimately beginning to wobble where he stands, he feels so weak in the knees as he gazes upon you in your doorway. It’s still just you, the same woman he’s been seeing every day and dreaming of each night.

But you don’t look like you have every day these past months. Your hair is styled differently, your make up is a little more done up, and the thing that’s really got his mind reeling, is that instead of your regular work attire, you’re wearing a dress so stunning he half wonders whether or not you are the bride this evening. There’s no possible way someone so beautiful is expected to stand on the sidelines tonight, expected to be anyone apart from the star of the show, the centre of his the world.

You don’t take much notice of the way Ghost fails to greet you properly, standing outside your door and practically gawking at you, seeing as you’re preoccupied doing the same to him. His usual fatigues and black everything have been swapped out for black dress pants, a white button up shirt (your eyes definitely do not linger on the top three buttons being left undone, nope, not at all) and a black blazer, matching black surgical mask in exchange for the typical skeleton mask.

You two blushing, bumbling idiots in secret love manage to pull yourselves together enough to make the drive up to the venue, the car ride filled with laughter, stories, and too many stolen glances to count, each of you wishing you could pull the car over somewhere and jump each others bones instead.

At the venue, you go through the obligatory introductions with your family, simply so they couldn’t say you didn’t say hello at least once throughout the busy night, only partially intent on ignoring them later on. They’re left understandably stunned at the mention that the man beside you is your husband, and when your family members begin unloading question after question, the two of you manage to find a quick excuse each time to dash off, giggling and holding onto the other as you weave the growing crowd of guests, all too proud of your little inside joke.

You regretfully tell him that you’ll have to leave him to sit alone throughout the ceremony, though he insists you shouldn’t worry about it, lifting your spirits momentarily when he jokes that you should focus more on not tripping during your walk down the aisle, before the both of you are left bright red in the face at hearing him talking about you walking down an aisle, as if you don’t pretend to be married every day to begin with.

He truly doesn’t mind having to sit on the tiny foldable chairs that make up the seating for the ceremony, it’s only a small portion of the evening after all. And besides, his eyes certainly aren’t on the couple reciting their vows up at the altar. No, his gaze is on one person and one person only. From the moment the music kicked in and pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen stepped out to walk the aisle in their matching attire and matching smiles, his eyes have been locked on you, just as yours have been locked on his.

His size certainly helped you pick him out of the crowd with more ease, finding him amongst the familiar and unfamiliar faces instantly, as though gravity was pulling your gaze in his direction alone. Later on, neither of you could even correctly point out amongst the groomsmen whose arm you were holding on to as you walked, attention only focused on each other.

Even as you stood up front, listening to your sister and new brother in law profess their love for the other, you tried your best to appear as though you were paying them your full attention, considering you were standing up at the front and all. But it was as though you could literally feel Ghost’s eyes on you the entire ceremony, unable to stop your eyes from straying towards him more times than was surely appropriate, feeling the heat of a blush creep over your cheeks every time you saw how devastatingly handsome he was today.

By the time the newlyweds are marching back down the aisle past their cheering loved ones, wedding party in tow, your eyes are no longer pretending to look anywhere other than at him. And Simon is looking back at you, but his mind is growing preoccupied, thinking of how he can finally ensure you’ll let him walk you down the aisle now.

Because in the glove compartment of the very car he drove you up here in, only inches away from your knees the entire drive, he’s tucked away a small little box, containing the exact ring you chose from the jeweller all those weeks ago. He carries it with him everywhere, eager for the moment, the opportunity to be lucky enough to truly call himself your husband and slip the band over your finger as his wife.

And he’s decided that tonight is the night he tells you.

The night he tells you this has never been a joke to him, never been anything apart from what he really wants to be true from the moment he saw you.

To call you his wife.

[angelbby555]

Home life

Summary: Jake acts two different ways. An asshole at work, and a caring husband at home. Word count: 800

⋆. ୨୧˚⋆

It was safe for the daggers to assume Jake liked to act out and mess with others because he got no attention at home. In grade school, everyone constantly mentioned a bully who picked on others because their home life was terrible.

Jake Seresin's home life was far from terrible and better than most. When he came home after a long day at work, his son Aaron was jumping into his arms to greet him, and food was served at the table. Then he always found his pregnant radiant wife in the kitchen finishing a word search puzzle in Aaron's coloring book.

"Hi pretty." Jake grinned ear to ear, knowing this was his favorite part of the day.

"Hi, jakey." You threw your arms around his neck when he was close to you. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. Jake bends down to kiss your growing belly, letting his index finger lightly brush over your stomach wanting to get the baby's attention.

"Don't give your mom too much trouble now." Jake stood up properly still glancing down at your bump. "Let her finish her boring word search puzzle made for kids in peace."

You faux a pout, that was more of a smile. "You're not getting dinner anymore." You grabbed the coloring book off the counter and swatted his bicep with the paw patrol book.

"I'm joking. I'm joking." Jake laughed. He kissed your temple for good measure and pulled you back to his embrace, with your baby bump sandwiches between you both. "I missed you. How was your day?"

After that the 3 of you had dinner and Jake made sure Aaron didn't start his meal until you sat down at the table. Usually, there was a game of Connect 4 after dinner, but since Aaron suddenly got an obsession with Hot Wheels, they built orange race tracks on the floor.

Aaron's objective was always to make the longest track, and Jake was willing to build track after track till it was perfect. It would take almost all afternoon to make a track long enough to take up the living room to the dining room. You just sat next to them doing the word search and occasionally stealing blue boosters, to make both boys go on a search hunt to find them.

The next day you would tell them to clean it up, but since it had taken very hard work and time they refused to back the track away. So it just sat there for the rest of the week till Araon wanted to build a new one.

His home life wasn't anything crazy compared to his job in the sky, but it was his and Jake treasured it dearly.

Nobody knew about Jake's family, except for Javy and Bradley. Since Jake shared a good bond with Coyote he told him straight from the start about his incredible family. But Bradley found out on his own when he saw Jake, you, and Araon at the supermarket.

Bradley would always get nosy and ask Jake about his wife. But Jake would always deny it or brush Rooster off, making Bradley feel like he was crazy.

"What are you talking about? Nobody would settle down for Hangman." Phoenix laughed at Bradley's remarks when he brought it up again.

"Nah, Nat I saw it with my own two eyes. Jake was kissing his wife at the supermarket the day before the Fourth of July weekend pushing his kid around a shopping cart." Bradley tried convincing his best friend but Natasha wasn't buying it. She only knew Jake as an asshole instead of the husband who rubbed his wife's feet when he got home.

"You're going nuts, Bradshaw." Natasha scoffed.

"Must be all the jet fuel getting to his head," Jake smirked at Rooster. Since nobody believed Bradley, all he was left to do was flip Jake off and head to his super hornet.

Then it was Jake's ranking ceremony and obviously his loyal family went to cheer him on. Once he got pinned, Lieutenant Commander Jake didn't hesitate to make a beeline straight for you.

"Oh my gosh super cute pin, jakey! I'm so proud of you. " You squealed pulling him in by his tie to kiss his lips.

"Couldn't have done it without you next to me, darlin'." Jake pressed his nose into your cheek before kissing you there.

"Good job Lieutenant Commander. You're so cool, Dad." Arron said looking up at him. Jake felt his heart fluttering at his son's words.

"Thank you, Aaron. Takes a cool person to know a cool person." Jake held out his hand and Aaron jumped up to high-five him.

From a few seats away he could see the daggers obviously staring at Jake and pointing at him. He read Bradley's lips when he said.

"I told you! But nobody believed me!" He kept his family a secret because he didn't like to mess up his work life with his home. But it was too late now everyone had seen his wife kiss him and he had the lipstick on his mouth to prove it.

first ever Jake blurb. Sorry Bradley but, got to move on when there's a drought since roosterforme hasn't been posting

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[cherrysinner]

─ LET ME PLEASE YOU ♡

...or rafe wanting to spoil you.

♡ pairing.ᐟ softie!reader x bf!rafe

♡ summary.ᐟ your boyfriend loves spoiling you. in many ways.

♡ warnings / tags.ᐟ smut, MDNI! fluff, fingering wc: 2k

♡ author's note.ᐟ part of my 3k celebration! this is kind of a part of my ceo!rafe x wife!reader au!! but this is them when they were dating <3 if you wanna check it out, here’s a link to my fic about them but you dont have to read it!

3K MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

to say that rafe spoiled you would probably be an understatement. you'd never been too much into shopping; or to clarify, you'd never been able to afford shopping trips that weren't to the local thrift store that mostly carried clothing that hadn't been in style since the fifties. but you always managed to make do; your grandmother having taught you how to sew almost the moment you were able to string proper sentences coming in handy when you had an idea for something you wanted to change about an article of clothing.

so, it wasn't very common for you to have a lot of things. nice things in particular. but when you and rafe started dating, not only did he start to buy you things, but he also started to take you out on shopping sprees, ones that basically went like this: you'd see something cute, you'd feel the smooth fabric under your fingertips, and then take the label, your eyes widening in a way that made you feel like they were bulging out of your head when you saw the number on it; more often than not being a four- or five-figure number. you'd then try to beeline away from it, only for your boyfriend to snatch it and adding it onto the pile of clothes he'd encourage you to try, almost always ending up in one of the shopping bags he'd carry for you.

you watched your figure in the full-length mirror rafe put up in his bedroom when the two of you got together, the white sundress clinging to your curves like it was made for you. you twirled around, the hem swishing against your thighs, rafe letting out a deep chuckle, the man lazily sprawled on the armchair, his legs spread wide and a blunt between his fingers, smoke coming from the end of it as your boyfriend tapped it against it the crystal ashtray on his nightstand.

"you like the dress?" you asked with a sweet smile, looking at him through the mirror. rafe's eyes slowly trailed up and down your body, momentarily staying on the curve off your ass, before continuing to look you in the eyes.

"i like it a lot." he said deeply, tapping his spread legs with the palm of his hand, and you could feel a slight warmth crawling up your neck as you turned to him, tentatively walking towards him until you were at his armchair, looking down at him, reaching towards him with your hand, only for rafe to tug you down to straddle him, a small squeal leaving your lips before it turned into a soft giggle.

taking a deep inhale of the joint, his hand on your chin as he tilted it downwards, tilting his own head backwards and blowing the smoke at you. rafe's fingers ran up your bare thigh, a slight shiver running down your spine, "you have the prettiest thighs in the world, y'know?" his steely gaze lingering on the soft skin on your thighs, "so soft and smooth..." the man mumbled. his voice, his praises, his touch.. it all was making you melt into his arms, your heart fluttering with every word that left his lips. and the bastard knew it, knew the effect his actions and words had on you.

rafe took another inhale of his blunt before tilting your head back, blowing the smoke into your parted lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you inhaled the smoke and felt rafe's hands creeping up your thighs under the hem of your dress. "so sensitive..." he whispered against your lips.

"my sensitive baby." rafe hummed, his nose moving to nuzzle against your jawline while his hands continued to lightly trail up and down your thigh, chuckling deeply when your breathing hitched the moment his fingers got even close to your inner thigh. he always knew how to make you melt. "look at you." he chuckled under his breath, tilting your head back as his lips trailed down your neck, "you're unraveling already." rafe teased, pressing a small kiss on your pulse point, before sucking on it harshly.

"rafe...!"

"yeah, baby?" he whispered, and you could feel his warm breath against your skin as his fingers got closer to where you needed him painfully slowly, your hands gripping his shirt. "c'mon, use your words."

rafe's touch was so distracting, it was as if every thought inside of your head vanished the moment you felt his fingers on you, the man underneath you enjoying the more and more you get wound up. "i want..."

he interrupts you with a mocking chuckle, "you want what? say it." rafe tsked, "or is it too hard for you, huh? you can't use your words 'cause you're too distracted?" rafe cooed mockingly as your body trembled on him, pressing yourself into him. "poor little bay... can't even talk 'cause her brain's all mushy from how i'm touching her..."

your boyfriend was reveling in the way you reacted to his touch, the way you pressed yourself into him, the small whimpers that left your lips... "you just want me to take care of you, don'tcha?" rafe chuckled, his hand reaching the edge of your panties, a patch of wetness already forming in them. he let out a low hum as his fingers started tracing the lace of your baby pink panties. "need me to make all the decisions, don'tcha? can't take care of yourself?"

"i don't think you can even think for yourself, can you?" rafe teased, his fingers dipping into your panties, "need me to tell you what to do, what to wear..." he circled his finger around your clit painfully slowly. "tell me, what do you want, baby?"

you could hardly form a sentence, your eyes pressed closed as your brain was all fuzzy and mumbled, trying to focus on answering. "i... i just-" you tried to speak, but the words died in your throat as rafe pressed his growing erection against you. "you just what?" he asked, his tone slightly mocking as he flicked your clit, making you gasp and whine.

"poor baby." rafe cooed mockingly, his touch making you shiver and arch into him, "all worked up and all i had to do was touch you a little bit. pathetic." he teased, his words causing your face to get warmer. "just need me to take care of you..." he mumbled, his finger continuing to circle your clit, your legs trembling around him, "gonna be good for me, yeah?"

"mmhm, yeah..." you ground into him, rafe showing his satisfaction with your answer by making his fingers work your clit a little faster, your body desperately pressing into his touch.

"that's what i thought..." rafe mumbled as his fingers slid down your slit while his thumb stayed at your clit, still tracing patterns on it, a groan leaving his lips, "fuck, you're so damn wet..."

you felt two of his fingers draw patterns at your entrance, gathering your arousal before pushing his ringed fingers into you in a way that made you throw your head back in pleasure. rafe curled his fingers inside of you, pressing them against that spongy spot inside of them, and the thought of his fingers being covered by your arousal, the scent lingering even afterwards, somehow turned you on even more "look atcha... such a good little pet."

a chuckle rumbled in rafe's chest as he pulled his fingers out of you before plunging them back in, this time even harsher. "awww, someone's a horny little kitty." he laughed and whispered; "you're so adorable..."

"so beautiful and obedient." his fingers curled inside of you once again, "you're mine, aren't you? all mine... no one else can touch you. you belong to me." his thumb rolled around your clit even faster, "say it..." rafe mumbled huskily.

"mmhm..." you whined, "all yours..."

rafe's fingers continued to work you, the man showing you that he was pleased with your answer by speeding up, "that's it..." he mumbles, "i know what my girl wants..." he growled. rafe was a possessive man; he loved knowing that he was the one who was making you into such a needy little mess, that you belonged to him, and him only. "you're my girl, aren't you?" he whispered, his fingers rubbing you just at the perfect angle.

"yes!"

"good girl..." rafe murmured, his fingers picking up the pace, "my good girl..." his teeth nipped at your neck, a small squeal leaving your lips. rafe could feel how close you were getting, your body trembling in his lap, "you're gonna come for me, arent'cha?" he teased, his hold on your hip tightening, "gonna be a good little pet and come for me..."

"i'm the only one who gets to see you like this..." he whispers against your skin as his fingers continued to pound you, the sound of your mewls and moans filling the room as the feeling in your abdomen grows. "no one gets to hear you like this... you're gonna come for me?" rafe teased, his fingers working you even faster, "gonna be a good girl and come for me?"

you ground yourself into rafe's fingers as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body shivering on top of rafe's, "that's a good girl..." he murmured, pressing his lips against your collarbone, "gonna be a good girl and come for me?"

"rafe...!" you moaned as you felt yourself hit the peak, before crashing right back down as you felt your cunt clench around the fingers still buried deep inside of you.

"fuck..." rafe chuckled, loving the way you were gasping and repeating his name quietly, curling his fingers inside of you to prolong your orgasm before pulling them out of you and bringing the drenched fingers to your lips, "clean 'em up for me, baby..." rafe cooed, and you opened your mouth with a content smile on your lips, sucking his fingers into your mouth in a way that made rafe groan, your tongue licking his fingers clean to the best of your ability. rafe grinned down at you, his hand going to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, "you're so cute when you're obedient."

when rafe pulled his fingers out of your mouth, you nuzzled your face into his neck, and even though rafe was hard as fuck under you, he couldn't help but find your sleepiness utterly adorable. he stood up, still keeping you in his arms, bringing you to his bed and laying you down.

rafe crawls into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. letting out a soft hum, "rafe..." you mumble softly, looking into his eyes half-liddedly, "how much do you love me?"

rafe let out a chuckle and shook his head, his hand trailing up and down your back, "damn, baby. you're really asking me that?"

rafe's hand tilted your chin up, making you look at him. his gaze was intense, "how much do i love you?" he repeats, his thumb softly rubbing over your bottom lip, "more than anything. more than anything in this world. more than money. more than anything."

you let out a soft laugh, "more than money? wow. you really must love me."

"i guess you got me there, baby." rafe grinned down at you, "i do love you more than money. i love you more than anything. but money is a close second."

[jamminvroomvroom]

as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 2

LN x fem!leclerc reader

PART 2 OF 2 -> read part 1 linked HERE!

here we go again guys, you know the drill! follows directly on from part 1 because of the silly word count :(

warnings: warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!)

part 2: 6.1k words

8. i have you.

“you never told me why.” lando blurts.

the sun is setting outside, the pair of you sprawled out over your hotel bed. he’d been in your room for a few hours, tangled with you between the linen sheets. it’s thursday in brazil, and he’d made a beeline for your hotel room after media day wrapped up. he couldn’t explain the anxiety he felt, pooling thickly in the pit of his belly, but it subsided as soon as he saw your pretty face, peeking through the crack in your door.

he’d stayed after, a habit that had been developing of late, when you were both at home in monaco, but it was unusual on a race weekend. you’d pulled out your laptop to do some work, and chucked the remote at him, telling him to put something on netflix. he’d just smiled and obliged, more than willing to stay with you.

“told you ‘why’ what?” you look up from your laptop, confused.

“why you haven’t really been with anyone else.” his voice is small, scared he’s overstepping but he figures he’s seen you naked one too many times to get shy.

“oh.”

you stare off into the dim light of the room for a second, collecting your thoughts, reliving it all.

“you don’t need to tell me, sorry if that was weird-“

“no, uh, it’s fine. it’s a bit tragic really, embarrassing.” you start. “there was a guy, a couple of years ago. he was on my course at uni. he was perfect, flowers on my doorstep once a week, romantic dinners overlooking the harbour.” you reminisce, smiling sadly. “we went on a few dates and he was selling it all perfectly, it was like he was telling me everything i wanted to hear. i trusted him, so i slept with him. it was my first time.” your breath hitches. “next thing i know, he’s telling everyone that will listen that he’s best friends with charles leclerc and that he’s fucked an f1 drivers sister. and, you know, monaco is small. charles and arthur beat the shit out of him.” you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, which are now glossed over with fresh, stinging tears.

lando slides closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm over your shoulder.

“it’s always been hard, you know? people trying to get close to me so that they could get close to charles. all my life, it’s been the same shit. i just wanted someone to want me for me, just once.”

you’re crying now, and lando wants to die for causing it.

“hey, ‘m so sorry, honey. i shouldn’t have asked.” he shushes you, pulling you close. he kisses the top of your head gently, and you snuggle further into him.

“no, it’s okay. wanted you to know. that’s why i like this. us.” it comes out just above a whisper.

“that’s why i like us too.” he murmurs. you look up at him, scanning his face.

“what’s your story? charles said something to me once about a bad breakup.” you ask softly. lando sighs.

“she wanted the lifestyle more than she wanted me.” he shrugs.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. i’m better off.” i have you, he wants to add.

“i like the fact that we can’t hurt eachother that way.” you breathe, voicing the sentiment that you’ve both shared since the very first time you were together.

“i like it too, honey. more than you know.”

-

9. ache.

a weight lifts off of him in vegas.

brazil had been a shit show, one that he wanted to forget. one that left him awake for two days avoiding your calls, until you snapped him out of it by showing up at his place anyway, and giving him the best head of his fucking life. he’d slept like a damn baby after that.

he had a week off, after, which he spent in your bed more than his own, and then he was promptly off to nevada, awaiting your arrival a few days later and fixated on clawing something back after brazil, even if it was just pride.

well, that fixation didn’t amount to much, but at least you were there, somewhere, watching and waiting. charles is a wreck, though, storming away from parc ferme, which means you’ll be with him, instead of with lando. he feels selfish at the way it stings.

he’s exhausted when he leaves the track, dead on his feet in the elevator up to his room. he can’t bring himself to join max or george and celebrate. he’ll make it up to both of them another time. his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, recognising your contact. he doesn’t even fight the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

packed something special for you. you gonna come find out what?

he’s in love with you. has been for a while.

the attention you pay to him for himl, the way you tease him and laugh with him and let him lose himself in unravelling you. your quick wit, mesmerising eyes, the way you switch languages when he scrambles your brain and you can’t think hard enough to keep speaking english. he’s a goner, and he knows it.

he doesn’t bother replying, just makes a beeline for your room. he’s spent enough time in it already this weekend to make it there without much thought. you’d even left him a keycard, which he retrieves with nimble fingers from his wallet, letting himself into your suite.

he calls your name, rounding the corner and he could die right there, just at the sight of you.

you’re lamplit, knelt on the middle of your bed, wrapped in nothing but intricate, baby pink lace.

“my god.” he pants, jaw dropped. you’re ethereal, gorgeous, a delicate gift wrapped up just for him to open.

“do you like it?” your eyes are wide, daunted.

“what the fuck did i do to deserve you?” he stalks to the end of the bed, shrugging off his jacket, his hoodie, until he’s left in a white vest and team joggers. he kneels down at the foot of the bed, ready to crawl over you. “i love it.”

you flush, grinning sweetly as he crawls over you, pushing you back into the mattress.

“you did this all for me?” lando asks, stroking over a lacy bra strap.

“thought you deserved it.” you purr, but your facade slips for just a minute. “is this okay? never done this before.” you glance up at him with round, doe eyes that make him swallow hard, melting further into you.

“‘s perfect.” he promises. “you’re so perfect.”

lando kisses you softly, his warm skin pressing into yours. you moan quietly into his mouth, holding him close. he thumbs over the lace adorning your bust, stroking it. you squirm every time he brushes your skin.

“wanna be on top. wanna try it.” you pant into his mouth, watching closely as he groans, eyes fluttering as he imagines the sight.

“only if you keep this on.” he bargains, flipping the pair of you over.

you sit up on his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest as his find your hips. he steadies you, playing with the band of your panties, tracing over the pattern.

“can’t believe you did this all for me.” lando coos, taking the opportunity to take it all in, you, flustered and breathtaking, straddling him. dressed up all for him, all his.

“you deserve it.”

“do you think you’re ready for me? lemme see.” his hand skates between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against the crotch of your underwear. he applies pressure against the wet patch that he feels, licking his lips. “were you thinking about me when you were getting all dressed up? thinking about how i’d touch you?”

“yeah,” you nod frantically, grinding down on his fingers. “wanted you all day but i wanted to be good for you.” you pout. you’re gonna kill him, he thinks.

“always good for me.” he applies more pressure, toying with your clit through the lace, the sensation making you quiver, bucking your hips.

“just want you inside of me, lando. i’m ready.” you plead, palming over his sweats. your hand travels further, finding his between your legs. you tug your underwear to the side, and he feels just how wet you are for him.

“you sure, baby?”

there he goes again. baby. your tummy twists.

“yeah, lan, i want it to hurt a little.” you sound so sweet for him and it shreds the rest of his self restraint.

lando sits up just enough to rip off his vest, taps your thigh so that you lift up for a second, long enough for him to shrug off his sweats. when he’s bare, he paws at your hips, helping you to adjust. your fingers wrap around his length and he jolts, mouth falling open as you swipe the head of him through your slit. you sink down, taking just the tip, but it feels like the first time all over again, the angle creating delicious pressure that burns through your pelvis. your eyes squeeze shut and he swirls his fingers over your sides.

“take it easy for me, love.” lando urges, looking up at you with concern.

“i like it. promise.” you choke out, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, the burn.

you continue to slide down on him, sinking further and further until you’re flush against his pelvis. you roll your hips experimentally, your clit brushing against the thatch of hair at his base and you squirm, sensitive.

“want me to help?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“wanna do this for you.” you pant, rocking your hips against his.

the angle is brutal, so intoxicatingly good, and you can already feel yourself leaking all over him. you build up a rhythm, slow and steady, watching the ripple of his abs everytime you sink back down on him, the way his curls fan over his forehead, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips at your waist tighter and tighter.

“you look so pretty, baby, taking me like this.” lando sighs, helping you pick up the pace. you cry out, leaning backwards, fingers gripping his firm thighs.

“it’s so good, you feel so good.” you whine, arching your back.

he’s entranced by the way your breasts bounce, fighting against the skimpy bra and he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily. one hand leaves your waist and travels to the cups of your bra, tugging so harshly that you hear the threads break. he frees your tits, watching in delight as they fall out of the lace confines.

“you’re so sexy, honey, look so beautiful. you’re all mine, aren’t you? this is all for me, right?” lando’s eyes roll back in his head when he feels the way you clamp down around him at his words. he’s gonna fill you up, he thinks, mark you as his from the inside out.

“yeah, lan, all yours.” you slur, fighting the urge to cum. “‘m all yours.”

he can see that you’re tiring, the ache setting in, so he pulls you forward, until you’re chest to chest, wrapped up his his thick arms.

“i’ve got you, baby.” he swears, holding you close as he rolls his hips, fucking up into you.

it’s all too much like this, the constant pressure on your clit, the head of his cock tapping against your cervix, the thrumming of his heart, the cold sweat of his chest peaking your nipples. you let out a strangled cry of his name, and you see white, your nerve endings overstimulated and fried. all you can hear is his voice, pulling your through it and out the other side.

“did so good for me, baby, such a good girl. took it all so well, love.”

you’re limp on top of him, a dead weight curled around him like a life force. there’s nothing that could make him move you, and wouldn’t let you go unless you asked. you lay there in silence, your mixed release leaking out of you. your heart rate steadies, about as much as it can with him around, and you feel yourself blinking away sleep, exhausted. lando notices, of course he does.

“let’s clean up.” he suggests, sitting up carefully with you on his lap.

“carry me?” you request sleepily, a lazy smile painting your face.

“as you wish.” he jokes, bowing his head.

your legs wrap around his waist as he shuffles off of the bed, and he walks to the bathroom, setting you down on the marble sink top. he leans into the shower, adjusting the temperature and turning the water on. he lets it heat up and turns back to you. no words are exchanged as he peels your ruined panties off, as he unhooks your bra and drops its all onto the counter. he tugs you off of the side, guiding your under the stream of water, the warmth making you relax into him. he’s more than happy to prop you up.

“my legs ache.” you giggle, resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“was it worth it?”

“definitely.”

“good.”

he cleans you, massaging soap into your skin, and washing it off. you stay close while he does the same for himself, passing him different products as you clean up together. it’s quiet, nothing needs to be said, and you wonder if this is what life with him would be like. domestic and easy.

“stay.” you let yourself ask, croaking the request out into the silence. you’re both drying off, and he’s gathering he’s clothes.

“i thought you’d want me to go.” he looks like a deer in headlights. cute.*

“stay.” your repeat, and this time it sounds like a plea. he slides his boxers on.

“okay.”

he’s like a furnace under the covers and you can’t help but curl into his side, legs wrapping around eachothers. there’s no going back from this, you fear. he’s thinking the same thing. you kiss his chest as you fall asleep, just a quick press of your lips to his pec, but it makes him hot all over. if the lights were still on, you’d see him blushing. he returns the favour with careful peck to your hairline. you both nuzzle impossibly closer.

“has it ever been like that for you?” you whisper into the darkness. you hear the change in his breathing.

the question is loaded; have you ever felt like this before? was that just sex to you? what are we? what is this? do you want me how i want you?

“never.” it’s barely a whisper

you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

-

when you wake up, he stirs, bronzed arms tightening around you.

“go back to sleep.” he grumbles, pulling your back to his chest.

“i need to catch my flight.” you reply, turning around to face him.

you’re stunned when you see him smushed into the pillow, lips pouty, eye lashes fluttering to clear away sleep. he looks so pretty in the morning light, and you wish you’d asked him to stay the night sooner.

“just fly with me.” lando mutters. you freeze.

“lan, you know i can’t do that. what would that look like?”

“who cares?” he half shrugs behind you, and you wriggle away, sit up in bed.

“uh, me? i care, lando. i can’t be seen flying around with some other driver, do you know how much that would complicate things?”

“some other driver.” he huffs. that gets his attention, and he sits up. “what so we can sneak around, and you’ll let me fuck you, but being on an airplane together is crossing the line?” he grunts sarcastically. you narrow your eyes at him.

“don’t say it like that.” you scold.

“how should i say it, then? i thought maybe this meant something more to you.” he’s standing from the bed now, hurt thick in his voice, and you panic, reaching out for him, but he’s finding his clothes.

“it does! it does mean something to me but… lando, i can’t put charles in that position. i can’t put myself in that position.” you reason weakly, standing and rapidly moving towards him. you pull him to face you, holding onto his shoulders. “don’t go, please.” you whisper, cupping his cheek.

he stares down at you, dejected, a wounded animal, and pushes your hands off of him.

“i, uh. i care about you. a lot. too much, i think. i can’t go through this again, and you can’t hurt your brother. so…” he breathes shakily.

“so?” you plead, shaking your head. “don’t do this, we can…”

“i’m not gonna be ‘some other driver’, honey. ‘m sorry.”

“lando-“

“its okay. this was good while it lasted, and i know you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, without all of the, uh,” he gestures around blindly. “the complications.”

“don’t go.” you whisper, catching his hand. tears pool in the corners of your eyes, distorting him.

“go catch your flight.” he smiles sadly, finally dressed, and then he’s gone.

you stand frozen, taking stock of whatever the fuck just happened.

i care about you.

good while it lasted.

you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.

complications.

you choke out a sob, stumble backwards onto the foot of your bed when it hits you.

you’d already found what you were looking for, and now, he was gone.

-

you’re supposed to go straight to qatar with charles, but you beg him to get you a flight home instead.

he can hear that you’ve been crying, and tells you that he’ll kill anyone that you need him to. you promise it’s fine, through even more tears, tell him that you’ll fill him in when he’s got a minute to breathe.

the ticket lands in your inbox and you flee. you spend the twelve hour flight watching love actually, crying into a glass of wine, and wondering if you should get gracie abrams’ lyrics tattooed on your forehead.

i love you, i’m sorry would be quite fitting right about now.

when you land, you don’t even go home, making a beeline for alex and charles’ apartment instead. when alex lets you in, confused to see your face, leo does laps around your feet. you drop your bags and fall into her arms, sob until your throat is raw and your eyes are bloodshot.

“i fucked up.” you wail, breathing hard.

“lando?” she asks, tentative. she has a knowing look, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.

“what? how did you-“

“well let’s just say that we saw the DM he sent you, and arthur was actually sat opposite me when you said you were with him.” she admits. you gasp.

“does charles… does he…?”

“oh, sweetie, charles knows nothing. although he did ask me what shoe size you wear after coming to your place a few weeks back. he said something about a pair of birkenstocks that looked huge compared to your other shoes, and i told him that was just the style.” she snorts, and you slap your hand over your forehead.

“oh, jesus.” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“wanna tell me what happened?”

“i don’t even know, he asked me to fly with him and then i said it would complicate things, that i couldn’t been seen with, quote on quote, ‘some other driver.’” you sigh.

“some other driver? oh, girl.”

“yep.”

“were you guys dating…? or?”

“no! lately things had been a bit more,” you pause, gathering your thoughts. “intimate? i don’t know. i definitely have feelings for him.”

alex looks at you sympathetically, strokes your knee soothingly.

“have you told him that?”

“no, i didn’t know how and now he’s done with me.” you wince, a fresh wave of tears pricking your eyes.

“maybe not, sweetie, maybe you if you told him how you felt, he’d understand. is charles what you’re worried about?”

“charles, the fans, all of it.” you whimper.

“the fans can be, well, intense, but take it from me, if lando’s worth it, none of that matters. is he worth it?”

you pause, weighing it all up. the way he’d been with you, so gentle and caring, considerate and interested in you. he’d made you feel safe and satisfied, and everytime you caught him looking at you, you felt that first initial spark all over again. you could laugh with him, push and tease and not just be charles leclerc’s little sister. you look forward to seeing him, feeling him, speaking to him. all of this together feels heavy, but you want to bear it.

“he is.” you whisper, looking at alex nervously. “oh, god, what do i do?”

“i think there’s a paddock pass with your name on it that you should make use of.” she tells you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “and if charles has a problem, tell him he has to go through me.”

-

10. pizza and pasta.

max fewtrell sips his coffee in the hotel lobby, waiting for keegan to join him. it’s hot in qatar, dry and bright, ornate.

his phone buzzes.

message request from: yourusername

HI SORRY ARE YOU IN QATAR????

he probably looks like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his skull.

another message comes through.

this sounds insane and i’m sorry that this is like, the first time we’ve ever spoken, but i need a huge favour. like a really really huge favour.

max scratches the back of his head, pulling a face at his phone. baffled wouldn’t even begin to cover how he feels.

he picks up his phone, and opens the messages.

-

lando over exerts himself keeping away from you. the sprint race had been a breeze compared to staying away, out of your reach. it hurts like hell, but it’s a necessary evil for both your sakes.

he wants to sleep, do nothing else but collapse onto his mattress, phone silenced and curtains drawn as tightly shut as they can go. he unlocks the door to his hotel room. the light flashes green, and he relaxes, finally. until, he doesn’t.

there’s a faint sound coming from down the short corridor that separates his front door from his sleeping area. it’s not max, he’s just left him outside his own hotel room, and it’s not keegan, either, for the same reason. he wonders if he has another stalker, braces himself and picks up the first thing he can find. a shoe. useless, he thinks.

lando creeps down the corridor, poised and ready, jumps out of his skin when you round the corner before he can get there. you yelp, bracing yourself against the wall.

“what the fuck, i thought you were a murderer!” lando huffs, throwing his head back.

somehow, the sight of you is worse than any murderer could ever be.

“putain! god, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you squeak.

“how did you get in here?”

“funny story,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look harmless. “max let me in.”

“verstappen?” lando asks, face twisting with confusion.

“no, idiot. fewtrell.” you reply, duh-like. “i can go, i know this is crazy and weird and a total violation, but i had to talk to you.” your voice softens and lando seems to finally relax. he’ll kill max later.

“this is batshit, actually, but i respect the grind.” lando shrugs. “what do you want?” he sounds harsher than intended, closed off, but you suppose you deserve it.

“i’m sorry about what happened last weekend.” you inhale shakily. “i… i care about you a lot, too, and i have done for a while but i was too scared to say it. i realised as soon as you left that i never ever wanna hurt you like that. never want you to feel like i don’t lo- care about you… like that.” you catch yourself, not ready to say certain words. he gets the gist.

“i don’t wanna be some hookup anymore. it was fine at first, when i thought that’s all i could have from you, but i know that it’s not. i want you.” lando states, his words poignant. “whatever pace you need, whatever you want from me, i wanna give it to you.”

the space between you dissipates.

“i saw you, you know, watching me from your garage all those months ago, like you were trying place me.” your voice is barely above a whisper. “admittedly, i kinda wanted to punch you for ruining that dress, but i also, really really secretly thought you were cute.”

“well, if we’re being honest, i really wanted to fuck you the first time i saw you.” he jokes crudely, and you slap his chest. “in my defence, i was blackout drunk.”

“asshole.” you mutter. you’re so close now that his nose bumps yours.

“i think you like it.” he whispers.

“yeah, i really do.”

your lips meet his urgently, homecoming. it’s been too long since you’ve had him in your hands, touched him and felt him breathe against you. the kiss is passionate, frantic, and you know you’re in love with him. you’re certain.

-

an hour later, you’re tucked into bed with him, a movie that you’re not paying attention to playing idly on the tv. pizza crusts lay on a plate, the leftovers of your impromptu dinner date.

you’ve covered your degree, how he got into racing, what you do for work, who you’re friends are, family dynamics.

you learn that his favourite colour actually is yellow, and he learns that you’re favourite drink is red wine. he prefers pizza, you prefer pasta. you like flat whites, and he doesn’t like coffee at all.

“after abu dhabi, i’ll take you on a real date. i promise.” he sounds excited as he says it, and you melt into his side.

“oh yeah?” you ask, looking up at him, your cheeks smushed against his shoulder. he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. he just hums in response, gazing down at you.

“gonna talk to your brothers as well.” he murmurs, dipping down to peck your lips.

“not just yet.” you whisper. he furrows his eyebrows.

“why?” he doesn’t sound upset, maybe a little deflated.

“i wanna enjoy this a bit longer, at least go on a real date before, you know, they kill you.” you keep your tone serious, holding it together well. he bursts out laughing, squeezing you closer.

“and here i was worried that you were ashamed of me.” he’s grinning toothily, boyish and pure, and you kiss him again, deeper.

“never.” you coo.

-

11. daylight.

abu dhabi is a distant memory by the time you get back to monaco. you were happy for your brother and your boyfriend.

yeah, that’s what you get to call him now.

your first date had been effortless and yet so intricately perfect, lando planning it down to the last detail. flowers delivered to you the morning of, picking you up at the door, telling you just how beautiful you looked. your table had been waiting for you, candlelit, dressed immaculately. a bottle of red wine served as the centrepiece, your favourite kind. swoon.

he orders pizza, you order pasta. halfway through, you switch plates.

you wake up the next morning in his arms, content and satiated, still bare from the night before. your phone is buzzing, stirring your both out of your deep sleep. you ignore it.

“c’mere.” he begs, breath fanning out across your neck and you wriggle backwards, further into his arms. your naked skin moulds with his, and you can feel him, ready and waiting against the curve of your ass. he’s still half asleep, and so are you, but you spread your legs just enough for him to swipe himself through your folds and slip right in.

you groan at the stretch, he shushes you soothingly, clinging to your frame. everything is so warm and heightened.

“so ready for me.” he whispers, kissing over your shoulder, hips making the most minimal, languid thrusts that make you dizzy.

“want you like this every morning.” you purr, hiking your top leg up even further. he’s basically on top of you now, his body half covering yours.

lando drags your hips back to meet his, breathing heavily against the back of your neck.

“anytime you want me ‘m here. ‘m yours.” lando mutters, eyes rolling back in his head when you clench around him. lewd sounds are exchanged between your lazy bodies, so worked up, two powder kegs desperate to explode.

it happens in waves, powerful orgasms washing over your bodies like the sunlight through the curtains. it’s bright and warm and leaves you buzzing underneath him, electrified.

“good morning.” you smirk, rolling over to face him.

he’s already sunk back down into the mattress, a satisfied grin on his face, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks where his eyes have fallen shut. he looks angelic, and if it wasn’t for his devious ways, you’d hail him a saint.

“very good morning, baby.” lando pants, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“you look so pretty.” you breathe, raking your nails through his hair. he groans, shivers of pleasure radiating through his scalp and down his back.

“not as pretty as you.” he surges forward, pinning you to the bed, the pair of you a hazy mess of limbs and laughter, so wrapped up in eachother. he’s peppering you with kisses, all over you face and your chest, further and further down your body.

round two is about to commence, and you’re more than excited, ready to welcome him back between your thighs, when you both here a loud, repetitive thud coming from faraway. lando pulls back, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“is that the door?” he says to himself. “sorry, baby. need to get that.” he frowns apologetically. you sigh, waving your hand in understanding, watching as he grabs a robe.

-

charles nearly chokes on air and fury when he gets the all caps message from arthur, followed by one from lorenzo, then his publicist.

arthur: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER? i don’t know if i should laugh or cry

enzo: be nice to her, don’t be a little bitch

publicist: Charles, we will need to address this news immediately and conclude whether the photos are out of context or not. Meeting scheduled on the shared calendar.

first question: what fucking photos? did someone catch him picking his nose in public?

second question: who does he need to be nice too?

third question: can he not go five fucking minutes without some impending media crisis?

he opens twitter and doesn’t need to look hard, because there on his screen is a picture taken the night before of his precious baby sister, and there is lando fucking norris with his tongue down her throat.

alex asks him where he’s going, watching him storm out keys in hand. he doesn’t respond with anything but a growl and a mutter of your name. alex’s eyes go wide, reached for her phone.

to: your number

girl he knows! idk how but he KNOWS!

for once in your life PICK UP THE PHONE

JESUS OKAY i just saw twitter…

OKAY im tracking charles location rn and looks like he’s near lando’s?

MISS LECLERC PLEASE! HELLO?????

it was nice knowing you babe.

-

you pick up your phone as lando leaves the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your notifications. your interest peaks, however, when you see about a million texts from alex, and even more missed call. in fact, you have literally thousands of notifications, and your blood runs cold.

you’d been so careful last night, surely it hadn’t leaked. your blood runs cold when you open your text chain with alex. the aggressive knocking on the door suddenly makes harrowing sense and you spring from the mattress just in time to hear the front door click.

“is she here?” you hear charles bellow, voice laced thickly with anger.

“uh… who?” lando tries, he really does, but he’s not a good liar. you wince, grabbing anything to cover your dignity: lando’s sweats and a t-shirt. you scramble out of the bedroom, sliding down the corridor from the sheer speed you’re moving at.

“fucking hell.” charles sighs, wincing at the sight of you. “of all the people on the planet, you pick my rival? you pick him?” charles barks at you. you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing as your chest constricts. “i told you. i specifically told you not to mess around with him, and c’mon, i don’t ask you for much.” charles throws his hands out in frustration.

“charles, listen to me,” you keep your voice calm and steady. “we’re not messing around, we… we’re together.” you confirm, watching his jaw tick.

“together? with him? do you know how many girls probably think they’re in a relationship with him? half of the portuguese modelling industry is linked to him.” charles laughs incredulously, disgusted. your eyes narrow, watching lando crumble into a million pieces in your peripheral.

“don’t you dare ruin this for me! and how can you come into his house and speak to him that way? my god, charles, you don’t get it, do you? i can never be happy with anyone because of you! everyone, everyone, uses me to get to you and, god, i finally found someone who cares about me and couldn’t give less of a shit about who you are and you don’t approve? shall i stay single and lonely and in your shadow forever? should i go for some greasy hedge fund legacy who wants to fuck any leclerc he can get his hands on? huh? i’m sorry if you don’t approve, truly, i am, but you will not have a say in this.”

charles stays silent, as does lando, the only sound in the hallway being your heavy breathing, a symptom of your monologue. you feel the ghost of lando’s touch on your waist, soothing you from your outburst, and you lean into his touch, looking up at him. his eyes are reassuring, the only source of comfort.

charles watches intently, the silent communication between you both, and it knocks him for six. ultimately, he wants you to be happy, but it begs the question: can lando make you happy? the way you truly deserve? he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a muttered string of expletives.

“will you look after her?” he stares daggers at lando, watches the way the brit straightens up.

“i will.” lando nods firmly, eyes sincere.

“and you won’t hurt her? you won’t fuck her around?” charles looks like he’s desperately pleading, but his voice is commanding, no margin for error.

“i promise.”

“and you’ll make her happy?”

“i’d do anything for her.”

your head snaps towards lando, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking the dam. charles watches closely, steps backwards towards the door. there isn’t space for him here right now.

“okay. i- okay.” you watch the way charles backs down, and he finally meets your eyes again. “ma chére, je suis désolé.” he tells you solemnly. you nod, lips in a thin, hard line. you can feel lando nudge you forward.

“come here, loser.” you groan, opening your arms for your brother. charles meets you half way, squeezes you tight. he gently kisses your forehead and turns to leave, not before shooting lando a look that says ‘i’m watching you.’

you turn back to your newfound boyfriend, tears still falling, but you pay them no mind.

“well done, baby.” he affirms, thumbing away your tears.

“i love you, lando.” you whisper, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” his eyes glaze over, total adoration swirling in the pools of green.

“so glad you said that because i absolutely love you too.” he laughs, hauling you in for a kiss. it’s a mess of tears and laughter and a weird sense of serenity.

“you might wanna call your publicist. pictures of last night leaked.” you mumble against his lips.

“at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” he shrugs. “i’ll call later. got things to do.” he picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. you squeal, and he teasingly slaps your ass.

you catch sight of the apartment as he walks you through it, and you think about the first time you saw it, under the cover of darkness, covert and clandestine.

you much prefer it in the light of day.

you prefer lando in the light of day, too.

yourusername and landonorris just posted on instagram:

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and others.

yourusername: oops!

comments on this post have been disabled.

-

thank god that’s over lmfao - thank you for reading!!

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722

[sp0o0kylights]

Here’s the thing about natural—or unnatural, as it were—disasters.

Regular social norms go right out the fucking window.

In Tommy’s case, all it took was to see one news report, highlighting the burning husk of Starcourt, for him to turn to his girlfriend and ask “Do you think…?”

He didn’t bother to finish his sentence.

Didn’t need too—Carol immediately and instantly knew what he was on about.

They were in Tommy’s house, but that didn’t matter. Carol went right for the phone like she owned it (or like she’d been practically raised in said house given she’d known Tommy since he was seven, which meant she might as well own it.)

“He’s not answering.” She reported after a tense moment,

Tommy bit his lip.

“Think he’s still messing around with Wheeler enough to be at her house right now?” He asked, but it was a hail mary and they both knew it.

Carol rewarded his stupidity with a flat stare. “He’s not dating anyone right now, he’s person non grata with that hideous uniform.”

And for other reasons, not that either of them bothered to voice it all.

Tommy opened his mouth again, no doubt to ask something else idiotic in his growing panic, but was stopped by a finger held loftily in the air.

Carol expertly dialed with her other hand, before once again returning the phone to her ear.

This time she got someone.

“Hi Miss Maple, is Mindy home?” 

A pause, and then a rapid-fire back and forth took place, in which Carol:

Assured Miss Maple she was not at the mall.

Was happy to know Mindy was also not at the mall.

Made an appropriate gasping noise upon finding out Mindy had left only an hour before the mall had caught fire and could she talk to Mindy? Pretty please? This is so scary!

--Until Carol was finally connected to Mindy herself.

“No, I'm glad you’re safe.” Carol was saying, after another exchange that to Tommy, felt like some kind of over-complicated girl language where they both made soft reassuring noises until they finally got down to business.

Which in this case, was asking if Mindy saw Steve Harrington, their wayward third, at the mall.

“He was there.” Carol confirmed a scant few minutes later, frown slashing across her face as she hung up the phone. “She said he had the closing shift.” 

Tommy panicked harder. 

“What do we do?”

Carol, bless her, gave him the easiest answer in the world. 

With steel in her eyes, she calmly determined: “We go get him.”

They did.

xXx

Steve was not at the mall. 

One of his obnoxious children was however, and insisted Steve was both fine and had gone home. 

(As if anyone was ever fine after escaping out of a burning building.) 

Lucky for Carol’s temper and Steve both, that proved to be true. 

 “Hello Steven.” Carol greeted the second one of the Harrington’s double doors swung open. “You look like shit.” 

“‘Ro?” Steve asked in blatantly disbelief, squinting at her. 

Give how fucked up one of his eyes was, Carol wouldn’t be surprised if he honestly could’t make her out. 

Steve’s messed up face moved to the left with another blatant squint before he warbled out: “‘Tommy?” 

“Yes, yes, it’s us. Move over.” She flicked her hands into a “shoo” gesture, as Steve dutifully stepped back, allowing them in. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, somehow managing to sound normal for that one singular line. 

Carol beelined right for the cabinet with the medkit, while Tommy went for the fridge. 

“Taking care of you, idiot. How the hell did you get a black eye in a mall fire?” 

Or choke marks, or any of his other wounds she’d taken in at first glance, none of which looked to be a burn. 

It took a long, long moment for her to get an answer, during which Steve had trailed them both to his kitchen, confused but not fighting their presence.  

“Part of the building collapsed. I--there was--” He struggled for a moment, looking lost in his own kitchen. “A lot happened.” 

“No shit.” Tommy snorted, wrapping a  hand towel around an ice pack before dutifully handing it to Steve. 

“Put that on your eye.” He muttered, when all he got was a blank stare back. 

“Oh.” Steve stared at him, without moving. “Thanks.” 

With another loud snort, Tommy shoved it in his hands, then forced Steve to actually put it against his eye. 

An interaction that did not bode well for the state of Steve’s head. 

“Take that disgusting shirt off.” Carol commanded a few seconds later as she finished laying out medical supplies on the counter. Lined them up like little soldiers gearing up to ship out. 

Bandages, neosporin, alcohol wipes and various other little bits and bobs weren’t going to fix whatever the hell happened to Steve, but given his aversion to hospitals, Carol knew this was as good as she was getting. 

“Buy me dinner first, jeez.” Steve grumbled, but thankfully, complied. 

Or tried too, anyway--he seemed to be reluctant to take the ice pack off his eye now that he figured out that's where it should go, and equally seemed to be having issues raising his arms above his shoulders. 

Carol sent a pointed look at her boyfriend, then jerked her eyes in Steve’s direction when the idiot just stared at her. 

“Let me help you.” Tommy said a moment later, right before Carol decided to throw something at him. 

It took them both a minute, during which Carol rolled her eyes twice at their incompetence, but eventually they managed to get Steve’s busted torso out in open air, and the ice pack firmly back on his eye. 

Carol turned to survey the damage, and nearly dropped the bandages she was holding in shock. 

Tommy too seemed at a loss for words, eyes wide at the sheer amount of bruising. 

Steve was a mess.

More than, a mess--this was the worst state Carol had ever seen anyone in, and the fact that he was on his feet still was a fucking miracle. 

‘Staring won’t fix it.’ Carol told herself harshly, and she knew damn well Steve wasn’t going to fix it either unless someone forced him. 

Hence of course, why they were there. 

“Steven Harrington, did you run from the paramedics?” She demanded, as she finally picked her first weapon (a disinfectant wipe) and strode over to begin her battle. “There is no way they let you go looking like this!”

“They had other priorities.” Steve said defensively, then hissed as Carol got to work. 

“You should have been one of said priorities, idiot!” 

Tommy thankfully, had decided to make himself useful by retreating to the other side of the kitchen and pulling various items out of the fridge and pantry. 

Inbetween her runs for more supplies and hissing insults at how fucking stupid Steve was, Carol identified the makings of grilled cheese sandwiches--their little groups go to favorite. 

Which was good, because it both got him out of the way and meant they could get something in Steve’s stomach before she forced every pain pill she had down his throat. 

“I’m fine guys, really.” Steve protested, as if constantly repeating it would somehow make his words true. 

Carol stared deep into his watery eyes, before jabbing a finger into the center of the largest bruise on his side. 

“Carol!” He howled, bending double and away, panting harshly. 

“That,” She informed him with a pitiless stare, “was for lying.” 

Thankfully the damage wasn’t as bad as she first thought--it seemed to be mostly just bruises. 

Possibly a cracked rib or two, at worst. 

The worst of it was Steve’s eye, and of course, his head, because there was no way he didn’t have a concussion amongst all this. 

(Only time would tell how bad it was.) 

When Steve was as doctored up as Carol could make him, she promptly turned and frog marched him to his parents' overstuffed couch.

“Sit and stay sitting, while I clean up.” She ordered, not waiting to see if Steve would obey. 

She passed Tommy on her way back to the kitchen, a plate piled high with food in his hands. 

“Make sure he takes at least a few bites.” She added, low enough so only he heard. 

He nodded, and for the first time since the three of them had fallen out, Carol felt something in her finally relax. 

Figured it was likely the same for the boys, given their dynamic had always been something one step away from a normal friendship. 

(it wasn’t the relationship her mother had once accused her of having, though granted, they had tested those waters once, but something that sat in between ‘family’ and ‘mutual ownership.’ 

Losing Steve had carved something hollow in her and Tommy both. She’d put on a good show of not caring. Pretended it hadn’t cut deep. 

Getting even a taste of it like she was? 

Carol wasn’t letting him go again.) 

Cleaning up took a minute, long enough hopefully, for the pain meds to kick in, and she didn’t feel too guilty when she came back into the living room and collapsed on the couch, next to Steve (and thus putting him in the middle, between herself and Tommy.) 

He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned into her the second she sat down, like he’d been waiting for her to return. There was a pause, like he was bracing to be pushed off, but when she scooted closer, the tension left him in a silent exhale. 

“I missed you.” He whined softly into her shoulder.

She ran her nails through his hair, silently bemoaning the state of it. “We missed you too, Stevie.”

“I want to be friends again but,” Steve sighed, and Carol watched Tommy tense, staring at Steve with such intensity one would think Steve was about to announce whether Tommy would live or die.

(Honestly, her boys were so stupid sometimes.)

“We can't be mean anymore.” Steve finished. “Not me—but also not, not you guys.”

With an (unfortunately) adorable wrinkle of his nose, he added, “We were too mean.”

Carol rolled her eyes, but only when she was certain Steve was paying more attention to her sweater than her face.

“Compromise. I’ll only be openly mean to people who deserve it.” She countered, as Tommy finally relaxed.

“I can be nicer.” He agreed, slowly sinking down into Steve’s other side.

“Way less mean. No--no more pranks or insults.” Steve continued.

Carol nodded. “Not in public.” She agreed. 

She was not giving up her own personality in private, thank you very much. If that made her an asshole that was fine--it wasn’t like she hadn't been told she was nasty before this. 

“And I’m friends with Robin now. So you hav’ to be friends with her too.” 

“Buckley?” Carol made another face, and knew she fucked up when Steve instantly tried to sit up.

“Robin Buckley. She’s really cool, and--” He started, with that kind of stubbornness Carol knew all too well meant he’d made up his mind and would refuse to change it.

“Fine, fine!” She said quickly, though not without an eye roll. “You have got to stop adopting weirdos though. The kids are enough.”

Steve slowly laid back down. 

“You know about the kids?” 

“Steve Harrington, town babysitter?” Tommy said, something teasing threading through his voice. “Everybody knows, man. You give so many rides home your beamer has gained several bus themed nicknames.” 

“Huh. I hadn’t noticed.” 

“Of course you didn’t.” Carol snorted, before laying her cheek atop Steve’s head. Tommy cuddled up close to his other side, the same way they all used to before their parents started insisting their cuddle piles were “inappropriate.”  

(That hadn’t stopped them. Nothing had stopped them, until Steve had a crisis of consciousness while dating Wheeler. 

It was only half the reason Carol wanted to put her head through a wall.) 

“That’s what you have me for.” She informed him. 

“Yeah.” Carol could feel Steve’s smile, gentle and radiant as always. “Guess I do.”

A nice, perfect moment followed, the one she knew both her and Tommy had been craving. 

Steve, of course, was a creature who required constant reassurance because his awful, neglecting parents never provided any, and she was prepared when he fought against both his pain and sleep to seek it. 

“You guys promise to be nice to Robin? And Nancy, and Jonathan?” He asked it quietly, like he wasn’t sure what they'd do if they said no. 

“Oh God,” Tommy moaned, “I have to be nice to Byers?” 

 Steve stiffened once again, snapping out; “Yes--” 

“We promise, Steve.” Carol interrupted before Tommy’s giant fat mouth could ruin things.  

She moved a hand down to rub gently at his neck, a soothing gesture. 

Tommy, of course, wasn’t done, because Tommy was a moron. “Wasn’t he the guy Wheeler cheated on you with?” 

“We said we promise.” Carol repeated, steel in her voice. 

Tommy met her eyes over Steve’s head, and was greeted with the steel core of his girlfriend’s ‘do as I say or die’ personality. 

“Fine.” Tommy conceded with a pout. “I’ll be nice to fucking Byers.”

 In a mutter he added;  

“Not happy about it though.”

“That’s okay.” Steve mumbled back, seeming to have finally tired himself out. 

“Go to sleep, Steve. We’ll be here in the morning.” Carol told him.

It was a longstanding fear of Steve’s--that people just left in the night without saying goodbye. 

(Likely because his parents kept doing it.)

It didn’t take long, Steve was the kind of guy who fell asleep quickly. 

It was a nice mend to the hole Steve’s departure in her life had made. Carol hadn’t truly been looking forward to living her life without him. 

She’d get him back however she could.

Even if it meant being nice. 

(Carol hated being nice, but she’d do it, for Steve. 

Well. Less for Steve and more to complete the Tommy-Steve-Carol super trio that Carol had lived most of her life in, at least, but she wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud.

Not now, anyway.) 

xXx

Close to a year later, Carol stood with her arms crossed, staring coolly at one Edward Munson, drug dealer extraordinaire and former (even if he was cleared) criminal. 

He grinned at her, the jerk.

With a supernatural slowness, she turned her gaze to Steve.

“I swear to God Steve you better housebreak him before you bring him anywhere near me.” She said, loud and clear.

Hadn’t she warned him about adopting more weirdos!?

Steve winced. 

“Come on ‘Ro, you promised not to be mean.” He wheedled. 

“I promised to not be mean to people who didn’t deserve it.” She shot back, as Tommy, wisely, stayed silent behind her.

(Robin, she noted, was equally quiet on Steve’s other side.

Normally this would raise alarms—Robin was quick to defend people if she thought Carol was being shitty and as a general rule was never quiet, but it would appear in this case she’d already clocked where Carol was taking this.

Smart girl.)

“Eddie doesn’t deserve—” Steve started but she cut him off with a blue tipped nail, shoved right against his lips.

“Not yet he doesn’t. But Munson,” She leveled her glare on him now, and let him feel the weight of it. “If Steve so much as says your name in a sad tone of voice, I will make your life into the kind of hell that Jason Carver can only dream of. Understand?”  

Behind her, Tommy cracked his knuckles, which was overkill and she’d get on his ass later for being dramatic, but presently she was too busy letting Munson figure out just how serious she was. 

Eddie’s gaze traveled from Carol, to Tommy, Robin, Steve and finally back to Carol in an assessment she frankly, hadn’t thought him capable of. 

She pushed him anyway. 

“I’m waiting, Munson.” 

In a somber tone of voice, Eddie replied; “It’s gotten. Very, very gotten.” 

“Okay, I’m lost.” Steve said, because, as always, he was the last person to know he was in love.

Moron. 

“Good. As long as we understand each other. Now.” Carol tossed her hair back with a quick snap of her hand. “Milkshakes?” 

“Robin--” Steve whined, no doubt wanting her to spell things out since Carol was refusing, but thankfully Buckley also seemed to realize staying quiet was the best course of action, and instead of answering quickly got Steve off track with a jab at his milkshake order. 

Which was of course, why Carol liked her.

(She wasn’t about to share that with Robin just yet. Integrating someone into a trio like theirs was delicate business—and she had a sinking feeling Robin might be sticking around, just like Steve and Tommy had.

As for Eddie Munson? 

Only time would tell.)

[promisingyounglady]

watermelons. | JS x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.

PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.

He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.

And by the girls, he means your tits.

Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.

And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.

The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.

“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.

“Back off, Bradshaw”

And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.

“Hi sweetheart”

It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.

“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.

“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.

And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.

All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.

That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.

“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.

He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.

“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.

You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”

Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.

You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.

“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.

Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.

“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.

The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.

The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.

Jake Seresin was a tits guy.

So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.

You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.

“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”

He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.

“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.

you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.

You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.

“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.

[imagine-docx]

sugar on the night shift.

Summary: You've been stress baking because you've been stressed over work. Because you have so many desserts, you started leaving treats for the night shift security guard.

Warnings: None.

A/N: it's been almost 4 years since i've last posted something, and i deeply apologize. and i also deeply apologize if my work is rusty, i actually haven't wrote ANYTHING (other than research papers) since my last post. please accept this as an apology. - amanda

Remember when you were a kid and you always wanted to hurry up and grow up? If you could go back in time, you would definitely have smacked yourself or at least told yourself to cherish your youth.

Now, here you were, back aching, cookies baking, and your nails tapping against your computer keyboard attempting to finish a PowerPoint presentation on your newest marketing research findings due in the morning. 

For the past nine months you were tasked with finding out how to sell nostalgia for your company. Those nine months were absolutely brutal. Everyday you would come home and just work until 4 am. But everyday for the past 9 months you had the same hobby while working, baking. 

For some reason your brain knew it couldn’t turn off if there was something in the oven. Because of this project, you managed to produce pies, cookies, cakes, the whole nine yards. 

The first three baking expeditions, you kept the baked goods. But everyday there was something new being baked and you couldn’t consume the desserts fast enough. You were offering it to neighbours, coworkers, friends; if someone had a stomach, you were offering them your baked goods.

Somewhere around the four month mark, you started leaving baked goods for the night security staff. They were awake at ungodly hours protecting your building, they deserve something sweet. 

You were so entranced with finishing this PowerPoint, the only thing that broke your concentration was the kitchen timer blaring, indicating that your cookies were done.

You hopped off the chair and navigated towards the kitchen, you pulled the cookies out of the oven and let them cool on the wire rack you set up when you were done cleaning. 

You knew they had to cool for a few more minutes before taking it downstairs to the security guard. You picked up the sticky note and grabbed the pen that was next to your computer, and scribbled a quick note.

“Sorry for torturing you with all of these baked goods, I promise this is the last one.”

You went back to work for a little bit before another timer broke your concentration, you packed the cookies into a small takeout box and stuck the sticky note to the top of the lid. 

While in the elevator, you took a look at the time and winced. 3:17 am. You knew that you had to finish the PowerPoint by 4:30 am to even be able to get up and be able to present it to upper management. 

You were practically racing against the clock at this point. You walked to the front desk and saw that the night security guard was not there. This was not new. Everytime you came down, he was not there. You assumed that he was doing his rounds, or he was watching the cameras in the back, or maybe he went for a smoke break. 

You left the box on the front desk and practically ran back up to your apartment to finish your presentation.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The presentation was a success and upper management took your findings seriously. That was the only win you got for the day. Everything else was sleep deprived losses. Since you got off the train, your body was absolutely screaming at you to hurry up and get home and rest. 

You buzzed into your apartment complex and waved at the evening shift worker. You normally would hold a conversation but your eyes were so heavy that you might fall asleep mid-conversation. 

You got into your apartment, grabbed a cookie from the counter and made a beeline to the shower to wash the gunk of the office off you. 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

That night you slept like an absolute baby. Nine months of no sleep made you sleep almost a full thirteen hours. 

You were walking to the front door, phone in hand, cookie in mouth, checking up on the texts you missed while you were practically in a coma. Still oblivious to the world, you pull a pair of heels out and put them on. You finally broke contact with your phone to grab your keys when you noticed a white envelope on your floor.

You questioned if you dropped your mail walking in, but you were so tired yesterday that you didn’t even grab your mail. You shoved your phone in your bag and the remainder of your cookie in your mouth before picking up the envelope and inspecting it.

You thought maybe your mail went elsewhere and someone returned it. But there was nothing on the front with your name. You opened the envelope and there was a note inside.

If your company is even half as sweet as your pastries, I’m in trouble. Coffee sometime? - Bucky 

[alisonsfics]

business or pleasure

pairing: congressman!bucky barnes x assistant!reader

summary: being congressman barnes’s personal assistant had its challenges: usually it was convincing him to go to black tie events. then comes the night of the gala and you’re doing a bad job of hiding your jealousy when bucky talks to another woman. and then, oh yeah, you get threatened by valentina.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: ⚠️thunderbolts spoilers⚠️ loosely based on thunderbolts plot

“How do I look?” Bucky turned to you.

You brushed some dust off his shoulder and straightened his bowtie. “You look good, very James Bond.” You complimented.

Following your lead, Bucky stepped out of the limo and trailed behind you up the steps into the gala. “Congressman Reynolds,” you whispered the name in Bucky’s ear as the suited man approached you both.

“Congressman Reynolds. Nice to see you again.” Bucky repeated your words, shaking the man’s hand. The two men talked business for a couple minutes, and then agreed to see each other later.

You started to lead Bucky further inside the gala. He let his hand rest on the small of your back, causing you to jump. He told himself it was so he didn’t lose you in the crowd, but that was partially a lie. He leaned in close to your ear, “I hate that man.” He whispered to you.

“Welcome to politics, Congressman Barnes.” You teased. His hand retreated from your waist, and you missed the contact.

“What is this gala for anyway?” Bucky asked you, as you both walked inside the main grand ballroom. As he looked around at the extravagant tables and decorations, he couldn’t help but wish he was anywhere else.

You grabbed his elbow, steering him away from the politicians that had notable disagreements with him. Turns out, some politicians didn’t want to see an ex-Avenger in office.

“Officially, it’s an auction selling Avengers artifacts. Unofficially, it’s just a way for rich people to rub elbows with government officials, such as yourself.” You explained. Bucky nodded and rolled his eyes.

Bucky hated politics, which made him wonder why he even ended up in this position. “Isn’t this all a little…” he struggled to come up with the word.

“Unnecessary,” You finished his sentence for him.

“I feel like you and I are the only people here who feel that way.” Bucky said, chuckling and leaning in closer to you. You nodded, knowing exactly how he felt.

You’d only known Bucky for a few months: since he ran for office, but you had really bonded over the late nights and putting up with politics and red tape.

“Heads up,” you warned Bucky, spotting Valentina.

Bucky tensed behind you as the woman’s cool gaze spotted him. She immediately beelined towards you both. “The Winter Soldier turned Congressman, how lovely to see you.” She greeted with a fake smile.

“Valentina.” Bucky said, bluntly.

There was a couple of seconds of awkward silence between the two of them. “We really should be going. We, unfortunately, have much more important people to meet” Bucky lied, gesturing for you to go ahead of him.

“Oh, okay. Go ahead, Congressman. I’ll just speak to your assistant for just a minute.” Valentina said, possessively putting her hand on your shoulder. Bucky's eyes darted over to you. Bucky knew Valentina was cruel and capable of anything she set her mind to. So, Bucky didn’t love the idea of leaving you alone with her.

Bucky prayed that Valentina wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt you in such a public place. After all, he did have a metal arm and he wasn’t above using it.

“I’m good. Go ahead,” you tried to quell the anxious look you saw in Bucky’s eyes. He gave you a short nod before leaving.

Valentina’s fake smile stayed plastered on her face but was a direct contrast to the threats leaving her mouth. “I know your little Congressman is looking into me and my company. I don’t doubt that he’s told you this. I also don’t doubt that you’ve got him wrapped around your finger with that young pretty smile of yours.” She said.

You took a deep breath. You couldn’t slap her in public, but you could think about it.

“Is there a point to this conversation or do you really just love hearing yourself talk this much?” You snapped back.

“Silly little girl. Bucky might have found a good use for this mouth of yours, but this town doesn’t reward those that don’t know when it’s best to shut up.” Her tone was harsher now, and her grip on your shoulder tightened.

Your blood began to boil. It wasn’t the first time someone had implied that you and Bucky were sleeping together, or that that is why you got the job in the first place. You still weren’t used to people questioning your abilities.

“You’re gonna find a way to make Barnes stop looking into my company. Convince however you see fit. That part is up to you. Climb into bed with him, really be creative. But, you get him to leave me alone and you don’t tell him about this conversation. Or let’s just say your safety will no longer be a guarantee.” She said, before walking away and leaving you stunned.

You rushed away to find Bucky. You didn’t care if that damn woman told you not to tell him. He was probably the only one who could protect you from her.

You searched for Bucky, but you were unsuccessful because you were in a room full of hundreds of men in identical suits.

Finally, you caught a glimpse of Bucky at the top of a grand staircase. Then, you saw a woman beside him. He handed her a small piece of paper.

Then, she got that stupid smile on her face. The same one you or any woman had when Bucky Barnes did something charming.

You knew she was Valentina’s assistant, Mel. Judging your most recent conversation with Valentina, you weren’t too thrilled to see Mel talking to Bucky.

Bucky left her side, heading down the staircase. His eyes landed on you standing at the bottom of the stairs. He rushed to greet you. “You alright? How was Valentina?” He asked you.

“You better keep looking into her company. You’re definitely on the right track. Was that Val’s assistant you were talking to?” You asked, quickly changing the subject. You tried to stop yourself. But you felt your jealousy take over.

Bucky glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh yeah, Mel.” He said, nodding.

“Was that for business or pleasure?” You asked. Your head and your heart were currently having a battle over who would control your mouth. Your heart was winning. All logic had gone out the window. All you could think about was the way she’d smiled at Bucky.

Bucky paused, realizing what you were asking him. He cocked his head to the side. “Why do you care who I’m with?” He asked, curiously. He could read your jealousy all over your face. He didn’t mind. He’d be jealous if he saw you talking to a guy.

“Oh, so you’re with her?” You asked, failing to hide your disappointment.

He chuckled to himself. “You still didn’t answer my question.” He said, taking a step closer to you.

You avoided his gaze, staring down at the floor. “C’mon, let’s dance.” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the dance floor.

His metal arm found your waist, keeping you close to him. Closer than you should have been to your boss.

You rested your hand on his shoulder, while he grabbed your other hand with his. Your hand felt tiny in his grip. “If you’re really gonna date Val’s assistant, be careful. Especially considering Val just threatened me if I didn’t get you to stop investigating her company.” You whispered to him.

He chuckled seeing that you still hadn’t realized he wasn’t actually interested in Mel. He swayed his body with yours, rubbing his thumb over your hip softly. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He told you.

You finally looked at him again. “Are you kidding? You spend five minutes with her assistant and now you believe her over me?” You asked, trying not to raise your voice.

Bucky quickly shook his head. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you. I’m just telling you I’ll protect you, I promise.” He said, seeing the hurt in your eyes.

You tried to pull away but he tightened his grip on you. “Hold on, wait. I feel like we’re having a misunderstanding.” Bucky tried to clear it up, but you had already yanked yourself out of his grip and stormed off.

Bucky followed after you, finally pulling you into a quiet hallway with him. “C’mon, you gotta talk to me. Why has this got you so worked up? Just let me know and I can fix it. I was joking about that thing with Mel. I’m not interested, not even a little. I was trying to get her to turn on Val, I promise.” Bucky begged for your forgiveness.

It had served as a wake up call for you. You realized you cared way too deeply for Bucky. You couldn’t allow yourself to get upset over him having a date. Val had threatened you because she knew Bucky cared for you immensely.

“I can’t do this, Bucky. I’m fucking scared.” Your voice came out just above a whisper. Bucky’s heart broke hearing the crack in your voice. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. You clung to him as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

You tried to distract yourself, so you tried to focus on one thing: the warm cedarwood smell of Bucky’s cologne. “I will protect you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear.

For the rest of the night, Bucky never let you out of his sight. Keeping you within arms reach at all times. And he played the part of Congressman, talking and laughing with some of the donors, just so Valentina wouldn’t have a clue.

“You sure you don’t want me to give you a ride?” Bucky asked, as he walked you to your car.

You nodded your head. He held his arm out for you to hold as you carefully stepped around a big puddle. When you got to your car, Bucky pulled you back into an hug, tightly holding onto you. “Text me when you get home.” He whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple. It felt like he’d crossed some invisible line, but neither of you seemed to care.

It was clear that Valentina’s threat had gotten under Bucky’s skin too. “I will, I promise.” You told him.

As you drove towards your house, you noticed a strange car parked across the street from your home. You swore under your breath, recognizing Valentina’s car.

You sped up and headed towards Bucky’s apartment. Your hands were shaking as you clutched the steering wheel. You quickly dialed Bucky's number on your phone, and it went straight to voicemail. “Shit shit shit shit,” you mumbled.

You pulled into the parking lot of Bucky's apartment building. You sprinted out of the car and up the stairs.

You pounded your fist against the door. “C’mon, Bucky. Open up,” you mumbled under your breath like it would miraculously make him appear.

You could hear loud voices on the other side of the door. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a tall man with a scruffy beard and tangled dirty blonde hair.

“You looking for Bucky?” He asked you, noticing your panicked expression. You slowly nodded your head. Could you trust this man? You had no fucking idea.

He invited you inside and locked the door behind you. He started to walk deeper into Bucky’s apartment with you following behind. “Bucky, somebody’s here to see you.” The man announced.

You both got to the living room and you saw Bucky standing with three other people. He glanced over at where you were now standing. His expression completely changed when he recognized you.

“Doll? What’s wrong?” He quickly asked, jogging over to you. He knew your wide eyes and shaking hands meant something had happened. “There was a weird car at my house. It was Val, I just know it was.” You explained.

His expression dropped. Bucky didn’t often looked scared, but he did right now. “It’s okay. I’m right here.” He assured you, pulling you into a hug. The others all glanced at each other and back at you.

They couldn’t help but be curious about the mystery woman who’d turned the mostly-silent and brooding Bucky Barnes into an affectionate human being.

Bucky sensed that he’d gathered the group’s attention. “C’mon, we can go talk.” He said, leading you towards his bedroom. You were understandably on edge. Bucky wanted to do anything he could to quell your worries, even if he was freaking out on the inside.

As soon as he closed the door behind you both, you turned to face him. “Bucky, who are all those people?” You asked, trying to read his expression.

“Some colleagues,” he said, vaguely.

You understood what he was implying, but you had to be sure. You sat down on the edge of his bed, taking a deep breath. “Was that John Walker that answered the door?” You asked, recognizing him from the news a few years ago.

Bucky quietly nodded. “So, let me get this straight. You have a team of rookie heroes that you’re going to take down Val with?” You asked, the disbelief clear in your voice. Every time Bucky had talked about Avenger stuff with you, it always seemed like it was long in the past.

“She’s into some really bad shit. You know that. I’m sorry but Congress and playing by the rules isn’t doing anything. I know that you’d rather I play this by the book but I can’t.” He explained to you.

You tried to take a breath and center yourself, but all of this news was feeling a little overwhelming. “You seem upset.” He said, softly. He walked over and sat beside you.

Hesitantly, he reached out towards you, brushing a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear. You didn’t notice yourself doing it, but you leaned into his touch.

“I should have talked to you before it all got this crazy. I know resigning is a big thing.” He said, genuinely.

You laughed under your breath. “You really don’t understand a thing about me, Barnes.” You said, looking over at him. He searched your eyes for any clue about what you were talking about.

You tried to find a way to explain it to him without revealing how you felt about him. Your stomach was in knots, anxious that telling him would push him away.

“I don’t care about you resigning. I’m fucking worried about you. You go after Val like this, outside of the law. You could get really hurt.” You said, your voice cracking. He grabbed your hand, slotting his fingers through yours.

There were butterflies in your stomach. “I have to do something, doll. She threatened you, and I’d feel responsible if you got hurt.” He said.

He glanced down at your lips. It was so quick that you thought you imagined it. His free hand cupped your cheek, softly. Your eyes started to flutter closed as you leaned towards him.

The air between you felt still. Goosebumps covered your arms.

Then, his bedroom door violently slammed open, and you both jumped apart.

It was Walker.

“Mel sent the file, but we’ve got company outside. We’ve got to leave now and get the file to the Capitol.” He said, urgently.

Bucky swore under his breath as he jumped to his feet. He didn’t even have time to explain as he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. “Alexei, go get the van ready.” Bucky commanded. He flung open a closet door and yanked out a bulletproof vest.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, tugging the vest over your head.

He kept your hand tightly clasped in his as he led the team down the back stairwell. John quickly opened the back doors to the van, and you all piled inside. “Drive,” Bucky and John shouted as they closed the van doors.

Bucky slumped down next to you. “Guess it’s time for you to meet the team,” he said, looking over at you, “this is Walker, Yelena, and Ava. And up there is Alexei.”

The three new faces sitting on the opposite side of the van smiled back at you. Then, loud crashing sounds ripped through your ears. Three bullet-size holes were now in the back door of the van. Bucky shoved you across the van into Walker’s lap. He held up his shield, blocking you and the other girls.

“Alexei, lose them.” Walker screamed as more bullets ripped through the van.

The van suddenly swerved down an alleyway, sending your head bumping into the wall. “The Red Guardian wins again.” Alexei cheered from the drivers seat.

“Thank you.” You said, looking over at Walker, who’d probably just saved your life. “No problem. Nice to finally meet you. Bucky talks about you a lot.” He said, reaching out and shaking your hand.

Bucky held his hands out to you. You took them, and he helped you back over towards where you were sitting before.

“Bucky, what’s going on?” You asked. Your brain was spinning at a million miles per hour as you tried to process everything happening.

“I was talking to Mel tonight because we’ve been trying to get proof of the illegal experiments Val has been running. You know, for the hearing. To get it filed as evidence, we need two Congressional employees to sign off on it. That’s you and me, doll.” He explained.

He knew you were scared. It was written all over your face. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He said, sincerely. He made sure to whisper that part, so the other's wouldn’t hear him.

“Let me fix this. We’re almost there.” Bucky said, grabbing your hips and tugging you close to him. He tightened the straps of the vest, making sure it snugly fit you. You caught Yelena’s gaze as she smirked at the two of you.

She looked between you and Bucky a few times. You quickly shook your head, answering the nonverbal question. She didn’t seem very convinced by your answer.

“Pulling up to federal building now,” Alexei yelled.

“Yelena, you and Ava get the file up there. We’ll go a separate way and meet you up there. Doll, you stay right behind me and keep your hands on my shoulders, okay? Walker, you stay glued behind her. Nothing happens to her, got it?” Bucky delegated.

Everything was a blur as the van door opened, and you all rushed out. You tried to find one thing to focus on to keep yourself from spinning out.

Bucky led the three of you to a back stairwell. Valentina had spies everywhere, so you couldn’t be too careful.

You lost track of how many flights of stairs you climbed. Then, Bucky stopped on the landing. He slowly peeked his head out of the door, then signaled for you and Walker to keep following him.

The soft patter of your footsteps was the only noise in the abandoned hallway.

Then, Bucky spun around to face you, holding his finger up to his lips, at the same time that John covered your mouth with his hand.

Their enhanced hearing from the serum had picked up some voices around the corner.

Bucky quickly dragged you both into a small broom closet. The air felt deathly still as the three of you tried to slow your breathing. You couldn’t see anything in the pitch black room, but you felt Bucky’s arm protectively wrap around your waist. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

The voices passed by the closet and continued down around the next corner. The three of you quickly snuck back down the hallway. You turned a corner and were met by Yelena and Ava.

They gestured for you all to rush as they held open the door for the council’s office. The five of you walked inside and locked the door behind you. “What happened to you guys?” Walker asked, noticing the cuts on both of their faces.

“Val and her goons in the front stairwell.” Ava explained.

The rest was a blur as you and Bucky took official statements and the council swore in the evidence.

Only after this did Bucky breathe a sigh of relief. “You’ll be happy to know, Miss Fontaine was just arrested in the lobby.” The head council person informed you all.

You found a bench on the side of the room and sat down with your head in your hands. Every muscle in your body felt tense. Being shot at and running for your life was Bucky’s area of expertise, not yours. The team talked amongst themselves. All the words sounded muffled to your ears as you stared down at the ground.

Most of the team started to file out when you felt someone nudge your shoulder. You looked over to see Bucky smiling next to you.

“I’m sorry that you got caught up in all of this.” He apologized, sincerely.

“You saved my life, Bucky. If I had gone into my house, there’s no telling what Val would have done. And she would’ve gone on to keep hurting people. You and your friends saved a lot of people from getting hurt.” You told him.

He gave you a thankful smile, but you recognized the humble look in his eyes. He’d never see himself the way you saw him. In your eyes, he was a hero. He only saw himself as a man who did the best he could.

“Speaking of my friends, Walker wanted me to tell you that he thought you were cute. Do you want me to convey a message back to him?” He asked, smirking over at you.

“That depends,” you responded simply. He gave you a curious look. “On what?” Bucky asked.

“If you finally kiss me right now or not.” You teased.

Bucky’s grin grew as he leaned in to connect your lips. His beard scratched against your chin as he kissed you. Your fingers weaved through his hair. You both were smiling so much into the kiss, it was hard not to giggle.

“Alright, come on, you lovebirds.” You both pulled apart and saw John holding the door open for you both. Bucky gave you one last peck before standing up and interlacing his fingers with yours.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guiltandguitarstrings @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @iamavailablesstuff @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore  @astheskycries @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @marvelcasey05 @velyssaraptor @amanda08319 @sunwardsss @studentville-struggles @impossibleapricotlampbat @infjwinchester44 @weirdfishy @lickmymelaninn @eternally-timeless @andreasworlsboring101 @glassesandthunderthighs @spiderstyles04 @mostly-marvel-musings @madisondelstan @spookyparadisesheep @beyondthesefourwalls @basicfangirlx @rivirox @i-wish-i-knew-what-i-was @reniescarlett @multiplums @alotofrandomfangirling @bbl32 @bob-fucks @faykyrie @cherryyxbabyy @starsdancegirl @akumune @harrysthiccthighss

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my fics or for a specific character/fandom!!

[annievrse]

origami flowers

sebastian x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb

you hear a familiar voice call your name as you trudge down the hallway of weston college, your shoes clicking against the concrete floor. you're not sure where you're going; being the faux nurse of the school while ciel and sebastian figure out why children are going missing gives you more free time than you're used to. but with no need to go to the infirmary, you've been exploring the campus.

pausing mid-step and spinning, your eyes widen when you see ciel running towards you.

"young master?" your voice goes up an octave in surprise. "what happened?" you ask, your voice sharp with concern.

the younger boy pants with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. "we have an... issue..."

you glance behind you to check nobody is coming and lean down—it's a good thing everybody is in class. "where's sebastian?"

ciel gives you a worried look and stands straight, his hand wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "that's precisely the problem... i don't know."

furrowing your brows, you sigh and stride past your master. ciel's calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you make a beeline for your infirmary. "i apologise, young master. follow me."

ciel shakes his head in disbelief at the random demand but follows you nonetheless, his steps quickening to catch up to you.

"shouldn't you be in class?" you tease, turning the corner.

ciel rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance. "i was, but i broke the quill i was using, and i was sent to my dorm to retrieve another."

"i see," you smirk, trying to hold back your giggle. "and did this broken quill have anything to do with the fact that you haven't seen sebastian since last night?"

"perhaps..." he eyes you suspiciously. and then his face slackens and he glares at you. "you know where he is."

you wave your hand flippantly. "i have an idea."

fishing the key to your temporary office out of your blazer pocket, you slide it into the keyhole and twist.

and low and behold, ciel's butler sits hunched over your desk.

ciel lets out a strangled sound and steps into the clinic. "what the devil are you doing in here?"

"my lord," sebastian raises his head in surprise, something foreign to both you and your young master.

sighing, you approach him, watching his hands fold paper delicately.

ciel just shakes his head at the pile of origami flowers overflowing onto the floor next to sebastian. "playing with paper, are we?"

you notice what ciel does a moment later, your cheeks warming at the sheer amount of work he had done. "seb..."

sebastian stands, paper flowers falling from his lap onto the floor as his hand comes to rest on his chest. "i apologise, my lord, i did not realise the time."

he doesn't meet your gaze as you pick up a pink flower and twirl it between your fingers.

ciel narrows his eyes but says nothing at the sight.

"i was unaware i was occupied for this long, my lord. i will get to making the pastries for afternoon tea shortly."

ciel shakes his head, turning toward the door. "no need. they are no longer required. i will handle the situation myself."

sebastian nods despite knowing ciel cannot see. "indeed."

"just be in your office tonight so we can prepare for soma's arrival."

lowering his head, sebastian bows. "yes, my lord."

and when the door to your clinic closes, sebastian's hand returns to his side. "i saw one of the students making them," he gestures to the flowers. "do you like them?"

you smile and nod. "they're incredible, sebastian."

leaning over your desk, he gathers his creations, and before your eyes, they transform into a bouquet. your eyes widen at the sight, and you look up at him. sebastian's cheeks are dusted pink, though you deduce it to the lighting because he doesn't show such emotion.

"these are for you," sebastian mutters, handing you the bunch.

your breath gets caught in your throat before you whisper, "thank you."

a smirk pulls at the corner of sebastian's lips, and he nods once. "you're welcome, dearest."

you turn away from his piercing gaze, grasping the flowers in your arms. "next time you stay in my bed, don't become so distracted from your duties that ciel has to come to me to find you."

this time, sebastian's lips morph into a smug smile. "of course. it won't happen again."

and when you put the origami flowers into an empty vase, you know he's running through all the scenarios where he could do exactly that once more.

[robin374]

Excuses they have to see you/talk to you

Characters: Kenny, Kyle, Eric, Stan Notes: Hello South Park fandom. (Aged up characters)Not prooread.

Kenny: His poor ass can't afford spotify premium

We all know that this man is poor asf, c'mon. He couldn't afford any app that had anything to pay, I mean, his phone was really old and it was a miracle that it even turned on. As Cartman put it, "he had a potato phone."

He had admitted to himself not so long ago that he really really liked you. He didn't like you in a way that he wanted to have sex with you and just that. He wanted to hug you, kiss you, touch you, see you smile... So, he always looked for any excuse to see you or to talk to you. In class, he sat near you so he could hear your conversations with your friends. He really wanted to be with you.

That's when he overhead your friends talking about how you managed to hack a paying app and got it for free. (It was just an apk but they were still impressed). An idea clicked on his mind and he decided that in the next class he would ask you to hack that app.

The moment the bell rang he ignored his friends and made a beeline to you. You were packing up your things to go home and do your homework, but the blonde guy stopped you. "Hey..." He sounded kind of nervous, you raised an eyebrow confused. "I heard that you hack apps. "He smirked trying to hide how nervous he was feeling. You looked at your friends who were waiting for you, they shrugged they surely didn't tell anyone right? "I mean, yeah, but I can't do it to anyone, they can take down all of the hacked accounts." His smirk dropped so fast, he was about to drop down to his knees and start pleading you to hack that app (absolutely not because he wanted to spend more time with you) Until you agreed to do it. You told to him to meet up at your house so you could do it through your computer and the pass the archives to his phone. That day, he went back home skiping and smiling like he heard the best news of his life. His friend group looked at his so confused, why was he acting as if he was in a disney movie?

Stan: He reminds you of a wet dog, somehow.

He was doing his homework while listening to music, however he started to get bored. Why was homework obligatory anyways? He decided to go out for a walk, he put his headphones on and went out his house.

He felt the cold air hit his face, it was somewhat comforting. He made his way to Stark's Pond, away from his house. As he approached the lake he saw a very familiar figure crouching. He squinted his eyes and he realized it was you. Oh no... He started feeling sick, not in a bad way, of course. He tried to calm himself down, he didn't want to puke in front of you; that would make him look like a total loser! But he also didn't want lose this opportunity to be with you, and alone. As he approached you his eyes turned to the small creature that was between your hands. A small puppy whined between your soft hands as you pet it. Oh how he wanted to switch places with the small canine.

Nowadays, he has that day marked in the calendar beucase he had managed to talk to you and have a whole conversation without puking! Kyle overheard you telling your friends how people shouldn't abandon their pets in the middle of the road. He told that to Stan and both of them started a whole ass FBI research about animal shelters near South Park so Stan could talk to you about it.

After finding the perfect one, he sat next to you at lunch and told you about it. You looked really exicted to go there and he subtly suggested you to go with him. The moment you accepted he excused himself and ran as fast as he could to the nearest bathroom.

Kyle: He relies on you when Cartman starts an absurd debate.

Another day another stupid debate at class. Cartman was now saying how the people of the united states have been living in their lands since the beginning of times. And as always he didn't know what he was talking about. Kyle tried to confront him saying how he was making everything up, but he gave up as soon as he got insulted.

You were getting really, really annoyed. It was always the same thing in history class. The teacher would say what you all were going to learn that day, Cartman talked out loud and started a debate. Most of the time it would be about how the Jewish manipulated everyone into thinking that they were the victims. Anyways, this time was really stupid, and you decided to step in. "Cartman, in which state are we?" You asked out loud, everyone looked at you as if you asked the dumbest question ever, this was part of your plan though. "Colorado, duh." He said with a confident tone. "Okay, the name is in spanish, why? Because the spanish were here before you, and in the east side; the British. Oh, and before that, the native americans were here." You explained calmly, you wouldn't let him get to your nerves. "Oh yeah? And how you explain that I'm speaking english right now?" He fired back with a nervous and angry tone. Before you could speak, Kyle talked. "That doesn't matter, fatass! Just admit that you're wrong, I wanna go home." He said. "Shut up you fucking manipulative Jew!" You sighed and rolled your eyes, "he's so fucking retarded." You said and Kyle, who was near you, agreed.

After class, Kyle approached you, he put his hand on your shoulder and smiled to you. "Thank you for helping me in history class." He was red in the face, for him, you were like a greed god/goddes, you were smart, pretty, calm... He admired you so much, but he knew he wouldn't stand a chance with you. Anyways, you smiled to him and told him that it was nothing. "I just read books, not like Cartman." You said and he laughed.

From that day, he started offering you to go to the library together and suggested to study together. He liked to be with you and talk to you, he felt like he could be himself and express his concers and have deep talks with you. Every night he dreamed about holding you in his arms to sleep. AHEM, he started to talk to you more and prayed to every singled existing god to make you notice him in the same way he noticed you.

Cartman: Your grandma is cupid now.

You always had a bunch of candy inside you backpack. Why? You didn't even know, honestly. Every time you visited your grandma's house she always gave one candy, 'in case you were hungry at some point and you couldn't eat properly.' She always was worried that you had eaten properly, because, in her opinion, you were too skinny. You weren't. It was just her grandma-vision that saw everyone too skinny. You ate properly every day and ate healthy, you weren't too fat nor too skinny. Just how a human body would look.

However, one time, you stomach growled more than usual. You took out one of your grandma's candy secretly so the teacher wouldn't see you eating in class. Unfortunately, a bored fatass- oops sorry, I mean Cartman. He was looking around maybe wondering who his next victim was going to be or thinking about how to exterminate jews without his mother trying to stop him for the 100th time. From the corner of his eye he saw you taking out a small candy from your backpack. He smirked, should he blackmail you? Or trick you into something that benefitted him the most? It was you we are talking about here. In his words, he somewhat tolerated you, but everyone knew that he liked you. He was very obvious with it, to be honest. Like always picking on you or mentioning you into every single conversation or speech.

Now, after class, he approached with that shit eating grin of his and poked you shoulder to get your attention. "What do you want?" You said suspiciously, you knew that Cartman always found his way for everything. "Do you have candy to spare?" Of course he saw you and of course he would ask you to have some. You told him that you didn't have more, which was an answer he didn't like. He walked away annoyed, he really wanted that candy. Or did he just wanted an excuse to talk to you? ... Both, probably both, but the candy had more priority.

So, he started sitting next to you in class, hoping you would give him some. You refused to let him win what he wanted, but after some weeks of him talking your ear off about how he wanted to get elected class delegate or how he wanted to ruin Kyle's day, you gave up. "Okay, if I give you the damn candy will you shut the fuck up?" You whispered annoyed, your eyes darted to the teacher who was boredly explaining some equations, you wanted to punch that smirk of his. He had won the battle. He tried to ignore that tingly feeling he sensed when your hand brushed his as you gave him the candy.

From then on, he sat next to you in every class, not only because you gave him candy to shut up, but also because he got the chance to talk to you and nobody (except the teacher) interrumpted you two.

[theliving-radio]

Hi hi! I just wanted to say I LOVE your big brother Malleus fics. The concept is just so sweet and the way you write Malleus is so hecking cute! How do you think Malleus would react to a little sibling reader who has always wanted an older sibling? Especially if reader is a clingy sibling.

I’m glad you enjoy it! (Imma be honest, I wasn’t really expecting others to enjoy it all that much lol)

The idea of Malleus with a Baby Sibling who is clingy is cute! Like this giant dork would love having his Baby Sibling Clingy!

It makes him feel wanted!

I usually envision the reader being an only child, and so suddenly they have an Older Brother who wants to take care of them? They are jumping on that opportunity so fast. Reader would go to Malleus asking for help on homework and assignments.

Big lizard man would happily help his Baby Sibling, and the fact that they sought him out just makes it even better!

Like you want him to him you? Him? Really?? Ok! Yes he can help! Need anything else? You hungry? He has snacks!

I’d like to think Malleus would carry snacks with him when you make an off hand comment saying you’re hungry and didn’t have the time to grab something to eat. (Also because of low funding from Crowley. ((Bird bitch)))

Baby Sibling who just sticks with Malleus whenever they can. They just see him walking in the halls and make a beeline straight towards them. He would turn and see them making their way towards them with a bright smile on their face. Malleus would think it’s the most cutest thing ever! Like his Baby Sibling saw him and just wants to come and say hi to him? Please! Please say hello! Big Brother Malleus would happily greet his Baby Sibling, hugging them and planting kisses on their forehead! Just getting cute aggression!

Baby Sibling who wants to hold their Big Brothers hand as they walk? Malleus will take their hand without any hesitation whatsoever. Why is your hand cold? Give him the other one and let Big Brothers warm them up for you! He doesn’t want his Baby Sibling to get sick!

Baby Sibling who mentions they are an only child in their world, and wished they had a sibling.

Baby Sibling: Like, I understood my parents couldn’t have another child. But still, it did feel lonely from time to time… but I have you now! You’re my big brother now!

Oh no… oh no, why did Malleus heart just stopped? Oh sevens, are you that happy about him being your big brother? Why are you so freaking cute???

Prepare to be crushed in a hug, this nerd isn’t letting you go whatsoever even if you flail your arms and screams are muffled in his chest.

AND THE ABUSE OF BABY SIBLING POWER!:

You weren’t a fan of eating your greens. Ever since you were little, you just hated it. You’ve tried! You’ve really tried, but the taste is just BLEH! Lettuce you were ok with. Spinach is pretty meh. Green bell peppers were cool. Green beans were ew, but you could tolerate it. But Broccoli? Death. Peas? Double death.

You were currently sitting next to Malleus in the school’s cafeteria, moving your broccoli and peas around your plate. They were the last thing to eat, and you weren’t going to eat them! That was final!

“My dear Baby Sibling, you need to finish your plate.” Malleus spoke up as he ate his own greens.

You looked over at him and made a face of disgust as he put another fork full of broccoli in his mouth. He glanced over at you in doing so and smiled.

“If you eat them, I’ll reward you.”

“Bleh, you can’t bribe me. I hated them since I was small, and I still hate them now!”

Sebek lets out a huff. Both him, and Lilia were sitting across from you and Malleus, while Silver was sitting on your other side.

“You should learn from Waka-sama, Human! He’s trying to set a good example and you brush it off!”

“Sebek I don’t think you have a right to say anything. You hate coffee,” you glance over at the half-fae to see his reaction to your comment.

And you’re glad you did.

The guy looked like he just witnessed someone insult his sweet mother and lived to see another day.

“HOW DARE YOU! That is a lie! I do in fact LOVE coffee!”

“Just with extra sugar,” Silver pointed out.

“And if it’s like 95% milk.” You added.

“YOU TWO-!”

Both you and Silver chuckle at how Sebek was getting heated up by just your comments.

Though your own laughter dies down when Malleus pushes your plate closer to you, pointing at your greens with his fork.

“My, Malleus~, you sure are being demanding towards the prefect today,” Lilia points out.

“Hmph, I have to be. My Baby Sibling is not going to fall ill under any circumstance due to the lack of missing nutrients. Now,” Malleus taps on your plate again with his fork, “Eat your vegetables.”

NO! You refuse to do so! Icky broccoli and peas go BLEH!

You began to grumble as you move the peas around your plate. Even stacking the broccoli into a pile. In doing so, you were deep in thought…

And then a thought hit you.

“Mal Mal…”

“Hm?” Malleus turns his attention to you, and his eyes widen and he stops mid chew.

You were looking up at him with big doe eyes, your lower lip sticking out just a bit to give you the perfect pout. You blink a few times to make your eyes gloss over just a smidge as you stare up at the dragon fae.

“I don’t like it… please don’t make me eat it…”

As soon as those words left your lips, your plate suddenly disappeared in front of you. It was so fast you didn’t have time to process it until you saw Malleus putting the Broccoli and peas onto his own plate.

“W-Waka-sama! I thought you wanted the Prefect to learn from your example!” Sebek shouts and slam his hands against the cafeteria table, making it shake.

Lilia began laughing as he watched Malleus hands your now empty plate back to you. Silver just shakes his own head and takes of his own meal.

“If my Baby Sibling truly doesn’t want to eat their greens, then I cannot force them.”

“Yay!” You started acting all cutesy as you lean against Malleus, wrapping your arms around his. Sebek looked like he was about to start screaming but it was caught in his throat.

The powerful Fae puffs out his chest in pride as he feels you hold onto his arm. You were happy, and that’s all that matters.

Big Brother Malleus is weak to his Baby Sibling.

—————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it!

[wendichester]

omg let me just say I LOVE your writing, you inspired me to start writing

can you please write more teen!dean x reader

luv ya <3

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ so cool,

summary. dean stumbles upon a hunter his age. he's... well... shocked.

pairing. teen!dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 725

notes. let's all chant together teen dean! teen dean! teen dean!

Dean Winchester has seen a lot of things in his sixteen years—things most people wouldn’t believe even if they saw them with their own two eyes. He’s fought monsters, patched up wounds, taken on responsibilities way beyond his age. He’s faced down things straight out of nightmares, but nothing—nothing—prepared him for you.

You stroll into the rundown diner like you own the place, all confidence and purpose, a hint of dried blood on the sleeve of your worn-out jacket. You don’t even look around, just march straight up to the counter and order a coffee like you’re twice your age. The lady at the register doesn’t even blink, probably too tired to care that some teenage girl is ordering black coffee like it’s a school night and not past midnight.

Dean’s sitting in the corner booth, elbows on the table, nursing a half-empty soda while Sam sleeps against his duffle bag across from him. Dad’s out on a hunt—left them here with instructions to stay put—and Dean had every intention of doing just that.

And then you happened.

He watches as you lean against the counter, tapping your fingers on the cheap Formica surface, eyes sharp as you scan the diner. You look... tough. Not in the way that the girls at his school pretend to be when they talk about how they’d totally punch someone if they had to. No, you look really tough, like you’ve seen the same kind of crap he has, like you know things. Your jacket has a tear near the shoulder, your jeans are streaked with dirt, and there’s something tucked into the waistband at the small of your back—he’d bet anything it’s a knife.

You’re a hunter.

And you’re his age.

Dean swallows, trying not to let his brain short-circuit over that fact alone. He’s spent his whole life surrounded by adults in this job, trailing after his dad and Bobby, occasionally meeting older hunters who treated him like a kid no matter how many hunts he’s been on. But you? You get it.

He should probably say something. Introduce yourself, Winchester, he tells himself, but his body doesn’t seem to be getting the message.

Then, as if the universe is hell-bent on making him look stupid, you glance his way—and catch him staring.

Dean whips his gaze down to his drink like it suddenly contains the answers to the universe. His heart does something weird in his chest, something that definitely has nothing to do with the fact that you just looked right at him.

When he chances a glance back up, you’re smirking. Smirking.

Oh, he’s so screwed.

Pushing off the counter, you grab your coffee and make a beeline for his booth like you’ve already made up your mind about something. You slide into the seat across from him—right next to Sam’s sleeping form—and raise an eyebrow.

“You got a staring problem, Winchester?”

Dean blinks. Wait, what?

“You—I—how do you—?” He fumbles, the easy confidence he usually carries with girls suddenly nowhere to be found.

Your smirk deepens. “Your dad’s kind of famous in the hunter circuit. John Winchester’s kids aren't exactly a mystery.”

Dean clears his throat, straightening up like that’ll somehow make him look cooler. “Yeah, well. Guess that makes two of us. Who the hell are you?”

“You can call me (Y/N),” you say, taking a sip of your coffee. “Just rolled into town. Heard there was some vamp activity nearby, figured I’d check it out.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “On your own?”

“Duh,” you say, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. And I don’t do babysitters.”

Dean huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well. That makes two of us.”

For a second, there’s a beat of silence. And then you tilt your head at him, eyes flicking over his face like you’re studying him, and something about that makes Dean’s stomach flip.

“You’re not what I expected,” you say.

Dean squints. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Thought you’d be taller.”

Dean sputters. “I—what—I’m six feet tall!”

You grin over the rim of your cup. “Sure you are.”

Dean groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, but he can’t stop the chuckle that escapes him. You’re something else. And he kind of likes that.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

[demie90s]

Give me a pazzi x reader and make it to where the reader had a hard day and the girls comfort her?

Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd X Fem!Reader

You Don’t Gotta Say a Word

MASTERLIST, MORE

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pazzi. You had a hard day and the girls comfort You.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Comfort / Fluff / Found Family / Poly-coded or Platonic

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Reader exhaustion, stress, implied anxiety, hurt/comfort

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~0.6k

𝐕𝐢𝐛𝐞: quiet softness, shared silence, forehead kisses, late-night ramen, “we got you no matter what” energy

You didn’t mean to slam the door.

It wasn’t that kind of anger. Not explosive. Not loud. It was that quiet kind that builds under your skin all day—tight in your shoulders, heavy in your chest, the kind that turns into a migraine behind your eyes and a weight behind your smile.

You dropped your bag harder than you meant to. Kicked off your shoes. Let out a breath that felt more like a warning.

The TV was on in the living room, but you didn’t look.

Didn’t say anything, either. Just made a beeline for the bathroom.

Azzi looked up first, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a smoothie in one hand and her phone in the other. Paige looked up a second later from where she was stretched across the couch, hair tied back, socks mismatched.

“Did she just—?” Azzi started, brows lifting.

“Yep,” Paige said, already putting her phone down.

By the time you made it to the sink and splashed cold water on your face, you heard them both behind you.

Not too close. Not crowding you. But there.

Azzi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Paige stood in the hall, one foot inside the bathroom, the other out—like she was waiting for your permission to come closer.

You didn’t say anything. Just gripped the edge of the counter and stared down.

“Bad day?” Paige asked softly.

You nodded.

Azzi tilted her head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head.

“Cool,” Paige said, voice even. “Then you don’t have to.”

Silence again.

Until Paige reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You closed your eyes.

“You hungry?” Azzi asked, gently.

“No,” you whispered.

“Liar,” she said, smiling just enough that you could feel it without looking.

You felt the brush of a hand on your back. Paige. Just a light rub between your shoulders. Then a kiss to the side of your head.

“I’ll make ramen,” she said.

“Extra egg,” Azzi added. “And sesame oil. You like it like that.”

You wanted to cry. Just from that.

Not because you were sad, but because they saw you. Without you having to explain or perform or fake it.

You just nodded.

And when you finally moved, they moved with you.

You ended up on the couch, wrapped in the softest blanket Paige always claimed was hers (Azzi always stole it). Your legs were tucked under you, sleeves covering your hands. Azzi handed you her half-finished smoothie with a little straw still sticking out.

“Drink,” she said, sitting next to you.

“I don’t—”

“You need something cold in your system. You’ve been hot-faced since you walked in.”

You blinked. Took a sip. Okay, it was good.

Paige moved around the kitchen with muscle memory, humming something under her breath. You could hear the water boiling, the soft clink of a pan, her mumbling to herself about “who the hell puts this back empty,” and then Azzi calling out, “You do!”

They made it feel normal. Safe. Like you were allowed to fall apart here and not have to put yourself back together all at once.

When the ramen came, it was perfect. Extra egg, sesame oil, soft yolk still runny, crushed red pepper just how you liked it. Paige handed it over with a fork already twirled.

She didn’t say anything when you looked up at her with glassy eyes. She just smiled.

And sat on the other side of you.

You didn’t talk for a while.

Just sat in the middle of them, quiet, warm, bowl in your lap, heads resting lightly on each side of your shoulders. The kind of silence where nothing has to be said. Where they’re just there, solid and present, keeping your world from spinning off its axis.

“You don’t have to tell us what happened,” Azzi murmured eventually. “But if you ever want to… we’ll listen. No judgment. No fixing it. Just listening.”

“Unless you want it fixed,” Paige said, voice low but certain. “Then we’re on it.”

You nodded slowly. “I know.”

“We love you,” Azzi whispered.

“Even on your worst days,” Paige added. “Especially then.”

That’s what cracked you.

Not the ramen, not the smoothie, not the perfect silence.

But that.

You let the tears fall without trying to stop them, and Paige reached for your hand while Azzi pulled the blanket up around your shoulders like it could shield you from whatever outside world made you feel so small.

They didn’t try to stop your crying.

They just held you.

Azzi kissed your temple.

Paige rubbed your thigh.

And for the first time today, the weight on your chest began to lift—not because everything was fixed.

But because they were here. And that was enough.