#i realized i messed up something really stupid after posting it and i am NOT going back to fix it

[satanslittlepup]

Birthday boy! Ashe

[starrbishops]

⟡Crush⟡

(John Walker x Reader)

Part 2 now with smut!

Summary: You have feelings for John, and it is extremely frustrating for you. Somehow, you end up helping him fix the kitchen sink- inspired by the song Crush by Ethel Cain. - ao3 version

Word Count: 2.1k

Notes: (Set after the events of Thunderbolts*, idiots to lovers, kissing, making out, mentions and allusions to sex but this one is PG-13, John is a bad flirt and a little dumb (but we love him), reader is a New Avenger/Thunderbolt)

a/n: If you had told me 5 years ago I would be writing a John Walker fic I would've slapped you in the face. But here we are in a post Thunderbolts* world and I love him. This is my first fic I'm posting here, so I'm sorry for any mistakes or all around poor writing. It ain't much, but it's honest work.

It should have been a crime for someone as big an asshole as John Walker was to also be as hot as he was.

That way he’d actually be in jail and you wouldn’t be standing here trying to talk sense into herself. He should be in jail, actually- for that Flag Smasher, all the people he’d surely taken out working for Val…

But now, here he was, a hero and one of the New Avengers, trying to fix your kitchen sink because Alexei had done something to break it at 2 AM the night before.

“Wrench.” John called from his spot beneath the counter. You passed him the tool, watching the way his large hand wrapped around it and strained as he twisted something in the mess of pipes.

You don’t know why yuou volunteered to do this. It was, first of all, extra work to help fix something that was not yoir fault, and second, an extended period of time spent alone with John, whom you’d been purposely trying to avoid after realizing your feelings for him.

It was so stupid. You’d been on a mission, trying to get information out of a former Hydra scientist who’d fortified his compound like a goddamn castle. You and Walker were on security duty while Bucky and Yelena interrogated the guy, stationed outside the door waiting to fight any more guards that showed up.

“I’m just saying, objectively, it’s a movie set on Christmas. That is what a Christmas movie is.”

“It’s about a guy fighting terrorists, John, how is that in the Christmas spirit?”

“It doesn’t matter, a Christmas movie is-” the argument was interrupted by a bullet whizzing past, causing you both to drop to the ground.

“The fuck?” You looked both ways for where it could have come from. You didn’t see anyone on either end of the hallway they stood in. 

“Fucking snipers.” John muttered as he pulled out his own gun. “Hold this.” he shoved his taco shield in your direction. You didn’t know why he kept the damn thing this way, but he’d grown attached to it.

Luckily, the shield still managed to block the next bullet fired at you, prompting more cursing from the two of you.

“There’s the fucker” Walker raised his gun and fired, the bang followed by a scream as another guard who’d hidden behind the corner dropped to the ground clutching his knee. 

“Nice shot.” you admitted as they walked over to the man, Walker gesturing to his head.

“Want to do the honors?’

“I’d love to.”

With that, you whacked him with the taco shield- not enough to break his skull, but enough to knock him out.

“It’s like they keep on multiplying.” John took a breath and his shield back, his other hand running through his hair. He looked oddly nice when he was disheveled like this. His brow was furrowed and his blonde hair all messy. He had really big hands too. You’d noticed that when he was holding the gun. You wondered what they’d feel like on her instead of his shield-

“Hello?!”

“Huh?”

John looked at you expectantly, snapping you out of your fantasies. “I said we gotta put him in the closet.”

Yes. The closet, where you’d stored all the other guys they’d knocked out. Because you were on a mission. It was time to work, not ogle John Walker.

Holy shit, you were ogling John fucking Walker.

You nodded noncommittally as he took the guy's legs and began moving him, but your mind raced. Walker? Really? Were you that desperate? He was a nice looking guy, that was objectively true. But he was also an asshole. Then again, he’d improved significantly since you’d first met him back in that vault. And you weren’t exactly an angel- you bullied him right back when he made a dumb comment. Oh god, now you were rationalizing it. 

You took a breath as they shut the closet, now with the additional guard in it. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s a dumb crush. It’s purely physical. You can take it and bury it deep down.

“Are you okay?” John waved a hand in front of your face. Fuck. You’d been doing it again.

“Yeah. yeah, totally.”

“You know you can talk to me, right. I’m no therapist, but you can.”

“Since when do you care about peoples’ feelings?”

“Not people. I care about your feelings.” he shrugged as he walked back to your shared  spot by the door. Shit, his ass wasn’t bad either.

God you was doomed.

And now here you were a month later, a total goner, fucking staring at his hands while he worked on the sink. It wasn’t like you’d ever tell him; you’d sooner die than acknowledge her feelings, knowing there was that chance of rejection, knowing that all of your friends would know, how it would hang over the team forever. No, you had to keep her feelings for John to yourself. Still, you dreamed sometimes of him confessing his own feelings, being able to finally voice all the lovelorn thoughts she’d been plagued with for a month.

It was genuinely ridiculous how good he looked doing an everyday task. He had that damn white t-shirt on that showed off his forearms, how strong and muscular they were. You had never really thought a man’s forearms were hot before she saw John in that shirt.

You passed him a screwdriver as your mind continued to wander. You had always known he was a Super Soldier, that he was incredibly strong. He could probably toss you around like she weighed nothing. Just throw you over his shoulder and carry her off to his bedroom…

Jesus Christ, you were horny.

“How’s it going down there?” you peeked under to where you could see John’s face, his brow furrowed in focus. 

“I don’t know how Alexei managed to do this.” He continued to twist the pipe above him. 

“He’s a special one.”

“That’s for sure.” he gave her a smile before returning to the pipe. “Y’know, if the military didn’t work out I was going to be a plumber?”

“Really?”

“Yep. My dad had a plumbing business back in Georgia.”

“Would’ve saved you a lot of trouble if you’d just done that.”

He shrugged. “Eh, I wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be friends.” “How grateful I am to have you in my life.” you quipped.

“You love me. Who else would fix your sink?”

“I could hire one of those sexy plumbers from pornos.” Christ, why did you say that. Walker had broken your mind to the point that sex was literally the first thing on it. You prayed he didn’t notice how you turned red from the embarrassment.

At least the comment got a laugh out of him. “What, am I not a sexy enough plumber for you?” you shrugged, a nervous laugh exiting you.

“Never said you weren’t a sexy plumber.”

He smiled again, a small one as he slid out from under the sink, reaching up to test it. It flowed easily, as if it had never been broken.

“Damn. You would’ve been a sexy plumber who was also good at his job.”

Walker laughed as he turned off the sink, returning to the floor where she sat. “Wouldn’t even have to seduce all the sad housewives for tips.” he paused as he leaned back against the other side of cabinets. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Like, what would you be if you weren’t an Avenger?”

Oh. You’d never thought about that before. “Probably dead.”

He gave her a look. “C’mon, really?”

“What, that’s why I think? John, fighting bad guys is all I know how to do, I don’t exactly have many other marketable skills.”

“You have plenty of skills, you’re great.”

There it was again. Every time he turned off asshole mode and actually said something nice it was like alarm bells were going off in your head, saying kiss him, kiss him. You prayed for him to follow it up with something dumb and bullheaded.

“I would’ve hired you to be my sexy plumber.”

Not exactly what you were thinking, but close enough.

“That is the strangest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

John sighed, hanging his head. “Yeah, I’m bad at this.”

“Talking?”

He mumbled something under his breath and turned to start putting tools away.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You said something.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Let’s just clean up, alright.”

You shook your head. “Touchy, touchy.”

You grabbed the wrench from earlier and dropped it back into the toolbox, watching out of the corner of her eye as John gathered up the other tools he’d left beneath the sink. Your hands brushed as he put them away, lingering a moment too long before he jerked it back.

“What, do I have a disease now?”

“No! No, you just, uh…” John shut his eyes and furrowed his brow in the way he always did when he was thinking. “I’m sorry I called you a sexy plumber.”

“I know it was a compliment, dude, you don’t have to apologize.”

“No, it was supposed to be, and it came out dickish.”

“Everything you say comes out dickish, John. No offense.”

“I know.” he put a hand to his forehead in frustration. “I know, but I’m trying really hard for it not to be. Jesus, I haven’t had to do this in so long-”

“Do what?”

“Flirt!”

Wait a minute.

“That was you flirting?”

“Yeah, it’s not good, I’m rusty, alright?”

“You’ve been flirting with me.”

“Yeah.”

“This whole time.”

His other hand went to his face. “Two months.”

“TWO MONTHS?!”

He nodded from beneath his hands. It was new, seeing John Walker embarrassed. Kind of adorable in a way.

“John.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt.

“You know I’ve been flirting with you too, right.”

“WHAT?!” his hands flew away as he looked up, shocked.

“Why else would I call you a sexy plumber?”

“I thought you were joking!” “Why do you think I’m always staring at you and getting distracted?”

“I thought you just had focus problems! Oh my god-” he ran a hand through his hair. “We’re stupid.”

“Yep.” You nodded, breathing out a chuckle as you scooched yourself over to sit directly next to John. You could feel his body heat radiating out. He did say Super Soldiers ran warm once. It was true.

“So now what?” you looked up at him.

He turned. “I could kiss you?”

“Sounds good.”

He didn’t need any more prompting from there. John smashed his lips to yours, desperate and frustrated, but restrained, like he was making a conscious effort to not scare her off. His hands went to cradle your face as you kissed back, threading a hand through his hair and putting another on his shoulder.

You didn’t know who initiated it, but all of a sudden your tongues were in each other's mouths, eliciting a small groan of pleasure from you. He was as good as she imagined him to be. And you’d imagined it a lot.

One hand traveled down to your waist, wrapping around your back and tugging you over to his lap. God, he was strong. Your hands gripped his arms, feeling the muscles in his biceps, the ones you’d stared at so often. Thank God for Alexei and breaking the damn sink, you thought.

You both gasped for air as they pulled apart, having remained attached to each other as long as humanly possible. You opened her eyes to see his blue ones peering up at her, grinning like an idiot. Not in the cocky, annoying way he usually did. This was a pure happy smile, one that carried the weight of all the pining and longing of the past two months.

“You’re a good kisser.” you rubbed his cheek gently with your thumb, his head leaning into the touch. He reached for it with his free hand and pulled it to his mouth, placing a small kiss on it.

“I’m alright.”

“Give yourself some credit, Walker.” you leaned in to peck his cheek, but his head turned to meet his lips to yours again. You smiled into his lips as he pulled you closer, putting you flush against one another.

That was when you noticed the bulge you felt beneath you. 

“John.” you whispered as she pulled away.

“Mmhm?”

“Is that- are you-”

“Hard? Oh yeah.”

You couldn’t help it.You burst into laughter at his bluntness, which he joined her in. 

“You’re such an idiot.”

“You’re the one on top of me.”

“Fair point.” you grinned at him. “If you’re just alright at kissing, I’m interested to see how good you are at sex.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” And suddenly there was the cocky smile she was used to. “I’m fucking exceptional at sex.”

a/n: again, forgive me for my sins of both liking John and for writing this, if you did enjoy this feel free to like or follow! I hope to post more fic in the future with other Thunderbolt/Marvel characters. TY for reading!

[mercurial-chuckles]

Oop, Steve’s pulling up to the scene! What mess does he have to get you out of this time?🤨

Oh, Essie! Thanks a ton for sending me this @bigtreefest. You've definitely tickled my pickle, and I wrote some Alpha Steve. Hope you fancy him! Fair warning, though, I haven't written much A/B/O and am just dipping my feet. Please bear with me! :D

****

SUBDUE

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!f!Reader Warnings: Language | Omegaverse | Minors DNI | Super soldier strength display | Hot Rogers on motorbike | Horrible misogynistic dude alert | Posessive, territorial, I'll show you your place kinda Steve | Snap you if you touch her kinda Steve | Allusions to spanking & boinking | Fluff | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. Word Count: 2k A/N: This is also my entry for Stevie BB’s 200 Followers Celebration. Mel, this wasn't the Alpha fic I originally planned to post for your challenge. I had something entirely different in mind! But then Essie sent me this absolutely awesome ask, and I couldn't resist. My fingers tapped the keyboard relentlessly...and this happened. :D Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! GIF credits to @karolinadeaen Divider credits to @buck-star Thank you :) Also, this fic is unedited. I will edit as soon as I can. Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

"I need you to fucking comply," his nasty grip tightened on your wrist.

Fuck, that hurts.

"Ouch! Let go," you grumbled. "I. AM. COMPLYING." You gritted the words out.

What a piece of shit!

"Is that any way to talk to an alpha, hmm? Tut tut... You ought to be taught some manners." His grip on your forearm tightened, surely leaving bruises.

Well, he needs to be taught manners. Bloody entitled asshole!

It was probably the fact that you were an omega that bruised his ego more than that punch on his nose you gave him earlier. Though, it wasn't really your fault. The conceited bastard had been misbehaving with the waitress, and how were you supposed to know this stupid shit was a cop?

Basically, you fucked up. And now you were handcuffed outside the diner when you could have been home in your man's arms and filling your tummy with food. You don't regret beating the guy. Of course not. You regret stopping after punching him only once.

He cleared out the crowd from the diner who had come to intervene. The poor omega looked shaken. You assured her it was okay with a nod. She gave you a worried look before heading inside.

His closeness was repulsive, and you held yourself from dry-heaving at his scent. And you tried your best to dodge him, but the guy was huge.

You realized he had no intention of taking you to the precinct. He hadn't even called for backup and had likely turned off the bodycam on his cop jacket. You rolled your eyes at his little performance to scare you, which he clearly didn't appreciate. In response, he hurled insults at you instead.

When you demanded to make a call, he refused. He must have seen the mating mark on you and was probably trying to avoid an altercation with your alpha. Oh, you were praying to see him try fighting your man.

If only he knew.

He kept humiliating you by saying that omegas like you shouldn't be let out and should be locked at home. You could take another swing at him if you weren't handcuffed. Kicking him in the nuts was still an option.

Fucking misogynistic cowardly pig!

When he leaned in too close, sniffing at your hair, you stomped on his foot as hard as you could.

"You bitch!" he tugged at your hair painfully, baring your neck. Your heart thundered, and you gasped for breath.

And then you heard it. The low rumble of a motorcycle engine, distinct and unmistakable, grew louder as it approached. Relief flooded your chest like a tsunami, even as you tried to suppress a shiver of anticipation.

The bike skidded to a halt not far from where you were standing. The officer stilled, his posture instinctively stiffening, and he left your neck, turning towards the sound.

You coughed, trying hard to steady your breath. The pleasant smell of your alpha wafted over to you, calming you.

Steve must have gone crazy when you hadn't returned home after stopping to pick up the dinner on your way home from work. And for once, you were grateful for Steve's overly protective instincts.

Steve swung off the bike, and dear heavens, he was livid. His blue eyes locked onto you immediately, darkening as they took in the scene. The anger radiating from him was hard to miss. The guy before you trembled visibly and took a step back. The realization that your mate was none other than Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was dawning on him and plunging him into a doom of distress.

In two long strides, Steve was standing before you.

"She assaulted me..." the asshole started.

The absolute nerve!

"He was misbehaving with that poor girl, and I just defended her," you interjected sharply, your annoyance with the whole situation bubbling over.

"Uncuff her," Steve's voice was calm, too calm, and it would have scared you if you weren't his and he wasn't yours.

The guy, apparently too stupid to read the room, spoke up. "She assaulted an officer of the law. She needs to..."

Steve cut him off with a growl so low it made the hair on the back of your neck stand, and it stirred other, much more primal things deep within you. His gaze swept over you briefly before turning back to the guy and sized him up for a second, intimidating him, shutting any more thoughts surfacing through the guy's drain hole of a mouth.

It was deeply satisfying to see the asshole shudder, especially knowing that Steve hadn't already flattened him into the ground. But you knew him well enough and knew that Steve was already plotting the guy's demise.

Steve picked up your hands gently, never breaking his gaze from the dumb twit. His one hand rested on your back; his touch was soothing you, grounding you, and before you could even wonder what he was doing, you heard the metallic snap of the handcuffs releasing.

You weren't entirely surprised because you were well aware of his super-soldier strength. If given the chance, he would have snapped the cuffs from your wrists the moment he walked in. But you knew he hesitated, mindful of the possibility of hurting you in the process.

The guy before you gasped, witnessing Steve tear down the center of the cuffs with a flick of his wrist.

Steve turned his icy stare on the guy. "Unlock them," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. The officer hesitated, clearly fearful of stepping anywhere near you. You bit your lip hard to keep yourself from laughing.

"Now," Steve repeated, his tone dropping dangerously low.

The officer fumbled nervously with the key, clearly unsettled, but before he could act further, Steve snatched the keys from his hand and unlocked the cuffs himself.

Disregarding the keys, he tossed them aside and drew you close, his touch gentle as he rubbed your wrists. Your sharp hiss drew his attention to the bruise marring your forearm.

Steve's body tensed instantly, his jaw tightening as his gaze darkened.

When his eyes met yours, they were stormy black, raging. Slowly, he gathered you into his arms, pulling you up for a long, steady hug and nuzzling your neck to calm his nerves, to hold himself from snapping the guy in half. You let out a soft sigh, and before he inched away, he kissed your mouth tenderly.

Without warning, Steve turned, and the officer yelped, tripping on his feet and flailing for balance. But Steve, ever the gentleman, reached out to help. His hand wrapped around the man's wrist, ostensibly to steady him, but his grip tightened. Steve's fingers closed around the man's wrist with an unyielding pressure, and the sharp, loud crack reached your ears just before the guy cried in pain.

"Whoa, careful there," Steve said, his voice all mock concern as another sickening crack echoed in the air.

Ouch!

The guy let out a strangled gasp, his face paling as he clutched his now-broken wrist.

Steve tilted his head, frowning in exaggerated confusion. "You alright? That sounded bad."

The officer stammered, his eyes wide and brimming with pain. "You...my wrist."

You'd rarely seen your man so unhinged, especially outside the privacy of your home, and it was doing things to you. Delicious, dangerous things. Things Steve willingly fanned every damn chance he got.

While it was undeniably satisfying to watch Steve's form tense with barely restrained fury, a part of you couldn't help but feel a flicker of fear for what he might do next.

So you quickly intervened.

"Hey, Steve. I'm okay," you murmured.

He turned to you, his expression softening as he pulled you into his arms again, nuzzling your neck and instinctively pressing a gentle kiss to your mark. His mark. You ran your hand over his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt soft, warm, and smelled like home. He took a sharp breath, and you caressed his mark in return, trying to ease his tension. It seemed to work.

He must have sensed the other alpha's smell on you because the next thing you knew, Steve quickly shed his coat and wrapped it around you, a gesture that seemed to relax him while also knowing it would soothe you.

He pulled you into his arms tightly this time, his breathing slowing as the rumble in his chest quietened. He held you close, his warmth anchoring you.

"Are you okay?" Steve's voice softened as his large hands gently caressed the length of your back and head.

You nuzzled into him, swallowing the moan. "I'm fine."

Steve nodded once, satisfied, before pivoting back toward the officer, who was still standing there, pale and visibly shaken. Steve's hand wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he took a step forward, his towering frame looming over the man. The shadow he cast seemed to make the guy shrink even further.

"Touch her again," Steve began his voice low and calm but laced with a deadly promise. "Or think of her, and you'll be begging me to kill you."

The officer opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Steve leaned in slightly, his tone almost mocking now. "Bet you're wishing your body cam was on for this, huh?" His lips curled into a small, humorless smirk. You wondered how he'd even notice that. Maybe the lack of a small blue light blinking gave it away.

The guy didn't respond; he just cradled his wrist and stepped back, his ego sufficiently shattered.

Good!

Steve gathered you in his arms and carried you to the bike. He put the helmet on you, and you waited for him to say a word. His face expressionless, overwhelming you.

When you heard nothing, you sighed. "I know I always seem to attract trouble." The adrenaline started to wear off, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

Steve smirked faintly, shaking his head, one hand pinching his brows and the other on his hip. His voice was calm but tinged with that unmistakable edge of disapproval.

Steve Rogers' trademark disapproval.

"Trouble doesn't even begin to cover it, sweetheart," his intense gaze held yours, daring you to deny it. You'd been together for years, and you knew how he gets knowing you were hurt.

The aftermath of the ordeal was usually where your body and mind were short-circuited because Steve made it his personal mission to hover over you like a mother hen. His instincts were already dialed up a few notches, no thanks to the serum. You were fine, more than fine, as long as he was teaching you a valid lesson while fucking you until you couldn't think, but it's the lectures on safety that made you throw a fit.

You sighed, slumping your head against his shoulder. "Here we go…"

"Here we go?" Steve echoed incredulously, pulling your shoulders away slightly to look down at you, "You're damn right, here we go. What were you thinking, picking a fight with an alpha? A cop, no less! You are a scientist, not an agent." He growled.

"He was harassing that poor girl!" you defended.

Steve turned his head slightly, his profile sharp, fucking gorgeous against the glow of the sunset. "And you thought the best course of action was to take him down yourself?"

"It worked. Mostly. I punched him real good," you muttered.

Steve groaned, squeezing your ass, tugging you closer, and you know by the way his palm flexed on your hip, he was itching to spank you.

You felt the familiar flutter in your stomach as you subtly clenched your thighs. Steve chuckled knowingly, his lips finally curving into a faint smile when he observed you. Well, not so subtle, maybe. Nothing really escaped him.

You groaned dramatically, "You're the worst."

"Oh, I will show you worst, doll. Don't you worry," he muttered, pulling you into a sensual kiss.

And when he saw you ready to argue with him, he cradled your jaw roughly with both his palms and kissed your forehead. Steve chuckled darkly, shaking his head, leaning into your ear, "Save your energy... you'll need it."

You were not going to walk straight tomorrow. That was for sure.

@bigtreefest & @steviebbboi besties, I hope you liked it! :D

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[magenta-malice]

The Five Love Languages: Stupid Rabbit Edition

A/N: I have a uni class called Social Skills Development and we were talking about relationships and the main love languages. Naturally, I spent almost the entire class thinking about how these would apply to the bnnuy rabt. Then I did the same in my next class… then I came home and turned those thoughts into whatever this is – instead of studying for my three upcoming exams.

I’m also writing this intro two days after completing the whole thing, when I’m also supposed to be studying. Am I going to pass any of these exams? Should I be making better choices? Will I ever succeed in anything in life like this? Do I even care? Let’s not find out! 

So anyway, enjoy! My academic achievements certainly won’t!

CW: none | asshole rabbit (affectionate) | prompts are NOT cohesive AT ALL | also I think I tend to write Jax a bit OOC so be aware of that I guess?

Word count: 1571 | Masterlist

Gift Giving

“Oh wow, a gift? From me? To you?” He smirks, handing you a tiny, glittery box. You open it to find... a single peanut.

“I got you a present.” He holds out a tiny piece of paper with ‘You Suck’ written on it.

“I found this and figured you’d like it.” Hands you one of Zooble's parts that he stole from them earlier.

“Here, I made this for you.” Gives you a poorly drawn doodle of you with “Dumbo” written above it. (It’s actually kinda cute.)

He tosses something at you without warning. You barely catch it, looking down to see... a single, slightly crumpled flower. “Eh, it was in my way.” He shrugs, avoiding eye contact.

“Pfft, no, I didn’t get that for you. It just appeared out of nowhere. Weird, huh?” He says after gifting you something genuinely nice but refusing to take credit for it.

Jax casually flips you a small, shiny bracelet. You realize it’s the one you lost a while ago in the circus during the gloink adventure. “Found it,” he says, walking off before you can react.

Words of Affirmation

“Wow, you suck at this.”

“Huh. Guess you’re not completely useless.” After you do something impressive.

You make a self-deprecating joke about yourself. Jax frowns, his ears slightly twitching. “Okay, no. I refuse to let you talk about yourself like that.”

You mess up something huge during an adventure, making everything more difficult for the whole group. Your face is flushing with embarrassment. Jax leans against the wall, barely suppressing a laugh. “Yikes. That was so bad I almost wanna be nice to you. Almost.”

“Ugghh, why do I even like you? Oh, right. Because you’re so great and cool and all that other annoying stuff.” Gives you the biggest side eye.

“No, no, no, don’t give up now! You’re my main source of entertainment!”

Quality Time

“Wow, alone time? In this economy?” (You've JUST sat down to do something on your own.)

Wordlessly follows you around for hours. When you finally ask why, he shrugs. “Dunno. Just seeing how long it takes for you to snap.”

OR you're reading a book on the couch. Jax is just sitting on the other end, staring at you like a creep. “So how long are you planning to do this?”

“What? You’re busy? Nah, c’mon, whatever it is can wait. I gotta show you something.”

You decide to take a walk by yourself to clear your head. After just two minutes, Jax appears beside you out of nowhere. “Did you really think I wouldn’t follow you?

You're trying to focus on something, but Jax keeps lingering over your shoulder and walking in circles around you like a clueless puppy. Finally, you snap and give him a groan. "What? We’re bonding. This is quality time."

BONUS, if somehow you'd have phones: He randomly yoinks your phone out of your hand while you're using it. “You’re welcome. It’s called being present, ever heard of it?”

Acts of Service

Steals your things so you “learn independence.”

Sneaks in your room and rearranges your stuff just because it "looked off." ((((based on this post of Jax's very organised room from @backtothedrawingboard hehe))))

You’re struggling to reach something on a high shelf. Jax smirks, grabs it easily, and then holds it just out of your reach. “Oh, you wanted this?”

“I technically helped you, so, y’know, you owe me now. And I'm definitely cashing that in later.”

"I’m practically doing all the work here. Just saying." (Does literally 1% of whatever it is that needs to be done.)

You’re carrying a bunch of stuff, struggling. Jax takes exactly one item from your arms. “There ya go. Better?”

Jax hands you something before you even ask for it.  “How’d you– ?” You blink.  “I pay attention. Sometimes.” He grins. 

Physical Touch

Flicks your forehead out of nowhere – “Just checkin’ if your brain’s still in there.” 

OR flicks your nose for no reason – “Dunno, just felt like it.”

Pokes your cheek repeatedly. “Just makin’ sure you’re real.” (None of you are.)

Ruffles your hair and immediately messes it up, making you groan his name in annoyance – “Nah, looks better like this.”

Casually throws an arm around your shoulders. “Look at us. Best buds.”

“Whoa, careful there.” After he stuck his foot out to trip you, but caught you last second.

Drags a single finger down your arm just to see you shiver. “Ticklish, huh?” (He's a 100% aware of this already.)

“Ughhh, standing is so hard.” Leans on you dramatically.

[emssturniolo]

talk to me

pairing: matthew sturniolo x reader

summary: matt knows you too well, especially when you aren’t being yourself

a/n: this was a request but i kinda gave it a little more plot :)

you did’t know what happened, really. one moment you were sitting on the couch at the triplets’ watching tiktoks aimlessly on your phone, and the next you were uncontrollably crying and shaking - to a person from an outside perspective, it might have seemed as if you had just fallen into frozen cold water, but you hadn’t. it was just your mind playing foolish tricks on you.

see, you and matt have been dating for a while - and you trusted him, so much - but this was a rare occurrence where your mind was doubting what it believed so thoroughly.

amongst the many tiktoks you had scrolled passed that night, one of them seemed to blur the vision of whatever in your head kept you thinking straight - it was a tiktok of matt… obviously, with a girl who seemed so so much younger than you suggesting that matt and some random influencer had been secretly dating.

the video had intense details, and things not even a mastermind would have thought to put together - which is probably what made you believe it - it suggested that matt and this influencer had met at tara’s party a while back, and displayed evidence of matt and her started liking each other’s posts not too long after the date of party.

now you weren’t one to usually believe these things, but it was so unrealistically possible, that your mind decided to play tricks on you, and there’a a high probability that your lack of sleep the previous night did not help.

matt was currently out with his brothers, filming a late night car video, and the shitty thing was that even if he wasn’t out - you couldn’t never get yourself to talk to him about something like this. you loved him so much that the possibility of him taking it the wrong way was too much to risk.

so when matt came back home later that night, and your mind was still racing, you had ultimately decided to suck everything up - but he knew you, maybe even a little too well, and when he noticed you weren’t laughing to his jokes as hard as you usually do, and that you weren’t as excited for the mcdonald’s he brought you home that night, he just knew something was up.

so he laid beside you on the couch when both nick and chris had gone down to their rooms for the night and asked you a simple question… which may have just sent you downhill.

“hey, what’s up? something’s wrong, i can tell.”

and with that, you broke down. anxiety flooding through your body, causing you to shake and stutter trying to respond to his question. in attempt to act like you were just fine, you failed. miserably.

“no-nothing. i’m- why?”

and with that he let out a harmless chuckle, purely to the fact you thought that he would believe your stuttering mess of a sentence.

“c’mon, angel. something's wrong.”

“you can take your time, just talk to me. please, i don’t want to go to bed worrying about you.”

your mind was moving fast. very fast. but you knew he wouldn’t drop it unless you told him exactly what was bothering you and what he could do to help.

“i just- i may or may not have seen a tiktok- god this sound so stupid-“ he cut you off the second those words left your mouth.

“hey no, nothing you say is stupid, just tell me”

“to be clear, i am fully aware you aren’t cheating on me- but there was a tiktok and it suggested you and some influencer were dating and i’ve just been dying all night thinking how i would actually survive without you if that ever happened and- i don’t actually know, i just panicked.”

his eyes widened at the word ‘cheating’, and then softened when he realized you were just overthinking, and then turned into this type of frowny shape when he thought of you having to doubt his never-ending love for you.

he didn’t know where to start from, so he just didn’t think about anything and let his heart speak.

“oh angel, you don’t ever ever ever have to worry about anything like that. i am so so so lucky to have you in my life, let alone call you mine, why would i ever trade that for anything else?and you know i understand more than anything that your anxiety is speaking right now, but please don’t worry so much over a tiktok made by some girl who’s probably twelve years old. if you don’t mind, can i see the video please?”

and with that you showed him the tiktok, the look on his face as confused as yours the first time that you had seen the video.

“i have never seen that girl in my life, angel, you can go through my phone if you want to feel better, but i promise you i haven’t.”

but there was no need to go through anyone’s phone - you trusted matt with your whole being, and now you yourself are doubting why you didn’t just a few minutes ago.

“no, matt,” you let out a slight breathy laugh “i trust you. i’m sorry, i think I just panicked, i don’t even know what was going through my head.”

matt made a gesture with his head, silently asking if he could hug you. you just put your weight onto him and he caught you with his warm handstand reciprocated the hug.

“you’re good, sweetheart.” he kissed the top of your head, and picked you up swiftly in one motion moments after, carrying you to his room.

[willowsnook]

rum with lime in a tall glass

lando norris x bsf!reader

"me and him? that's funny"

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

Sitting in a circle with your friends you laughed loudly as you watched Max be dared to post a video of him lipsyncing along to a Taylor Swift song. You felt like you were in high school again but enjoyed the nostalgia.

"Okay y/n, you're up," Max said after bowing to everyone following his performance. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," you said confidently, not scared of whatever Max would make you do.

"I dare you to spend 7 minutes in heaven with Lando," he said and you laughed.

"Me and him? That's funny," you said waiting for the real dare. Lando shifted uncomfortably next to you and Max raised his eyebrows. "You're serious?"

You and Lando had been friends for almost five years but had grown really close the past two. You lived in the same building in Monaco and had started as friends of convenience but it grew into more as time went on. He was funny, easy to talk to, and someone you could always count on. Yeah, you admitted he was attractive but you never thought about him in a more than friends way. Why mess with what you had?

"I'm being serious," Max said. "Now go."

You let Lando pull you up and followed him to the coat closet in the front hallway of his apartment.

"After you," you mocked, opening the door. The closet was naturally dark and you could make out the outline of Lando as he shut the door behind you. "You know we can just stand here for 7 minutes, it's not that long."

"Why wouldn't I kiss you?" He asked and your head shot up.

"I mean do you want to?" You asked unsure. "It's just a little awkward."

You watched him tilt his head, eyeing you curiously.

"You think it's awkward?"

"Well yeah, you're my best friend," you said seriously. "I wouldn't want anything to change."

He didn't say anything for a minute and you grew nervous waiting for him to reply.

"You are so stupid," he said amused, like there was some big secret that you weren't in on. "Everything has already changed."

"What do you mea-," his lips cut you off as he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you in. You were stunned but slowly moved yours back against his, resting your hands on his shoulders. He deepened the kiss and you stepped back until your back was against the wall. Moving from your mouth, he sucked on your neck causing you to gasp out.

A knock on the door slapped you back into reality, pushing him off of you. He grabbed the back of your head giving you one last short kiss before turning to open the door. Max gave him a knowing grin as you two came out and you were too flustered to even notice.

The game was over as everyone else had broken off to watch a movie or get another drink. Dazed, you walked out onto the balcony sinking down on the outdoor couch.

Everything has already changed.

What did that mean? You racked your brain, trying to think of times that Lando did something that might have meant he liked you more than a friend. He did sleep over after every movie night and you'd wake up the next morning with his arms wrapped tightly around you. He did make sure to introduce you to everyone in the McLaren garage the first time you came, telling them that you were very important to him. He did pay for you both to fly back to the US to go to a Packers game, just the two of you. But he was your best friend so that all made sense, right?

You were so fucking stupid. He was in love with you. But were you in love with him?

You did cook his favorite dinner for him to come home to after every race. And you did watch his old twitch streams every time he was gone for a race weekend because you missed him. And you did feel a wave of rage everytime you saw an influencer flirt with him at the club or the paddock.

Realization set in just as you heard the sliding door open and turned to see Lando sit down next to you. You both stared at each other not saying anything.

"I am in love with you," you said formally and he smiled, amused. "And you are in love with me."

"Just now figure that out?" He joked.

"You are such an asshole," you said pouting, crossing your arms over your chest. "You never said anything."

Lando shrugged, looking out at the sky.

"I kind of thought it was just like an unspoken thing," he admitted. "I thought you didn't want to put a label on it so I just never said anything. I do tell people you're my girlfriend though."

Your jaw dropped.

"You what?"

"Well yeah," he said blushing. "Guess I probably should have said something."

Rolling your eyes you moved closer to him, draping your legs over his lap and resting your head on his shoulder.

"So how long have we been dating then?" You asked.

"A few years," he said and you snorted. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and you sighed, finally content.

[fangirlfuel]

Helmet Hair & Heartbeats

---

The paddock buzzed with the energy that always came after a race not the kind that raced toward the finish line, but the kind that lingered in the air, electric and alive. Mechanics hustled back and forth with tools and data tablets. Reporters gathered in huddles, eyes on screens, mouths full of questions. Cameras flashed. Radios crackled. But you?

You only saw him.

Lance Stroll leaning casually against a stack of tires, his race suit pulled halfway down, the white of his undershirt clinging to his chest. His gloves were tucked into his waistband, and his hair…

God, his hair.

It was a glorious mess, a chaos of curls that had been flattened, twisted, and tousled under the heat and weight of a helmet and yet, somehow, it was still perfect. Not in a traditional, polished kind of way, but in that annoyingly hot post-race glow kind of way. Like he’d just come back from battle and was too good-looking to care.

You didn’t even realize you were staring until one of the Aston Martin comms girls walked past and smirked.

“Girl, he’s gonna feel you looking at him like that,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Do us all a favor and shoot your shot.”

“I am not” You tried to deny it, but the way your voice trailed off halfway through gave you away completely.

And worse?

Lance noticed.

He turned mid conversation with one of the engineers, his gaze scanning the paddock lazily until it landed right on you. His lips curved upward, just slightly. A smirk. Subtle, sharp, dangerous.

Your stomach flipped.

He said something to the engineer, then started walking. Toward you. Purposefully. Slowly. Like he had all the time in the world and was enjoying the view on his way over.

You considered bolting. Genuinely. But your feet wouldn’t move, frozen by the weight of his gaze and the stupid bounce of those sweaty curls. You could hear your heart pounding louder than the nearby generator hum.

When he finally stopped in front of you, he didn’t say anything at first just cocked his head, like he was sizing you up, like he knew exactly why your lips were parted and your eyes were wide.

“You good?” he asked, voice low and teasing.

“W-what?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair which only made it worse.

“You were staring,” he said simply, with a smug sort of softness. “Pretty sure I felt your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head.”

You crossed your arms, trying to salvage your pride. “I was n...”

“Yes, you were,” he interrupted smoothly. “It’s okay. You wouldn’t be the first.”

You scoffed. “Wow. Is your ego always this big post race?”

He leaned in just a touch. “Only when someone looks at my helmet hair like it’s the eighth wonder of the world.”

Your cheeks burned. You dropped your gaze to your shoes for a moment, then looked back up at him with mock irritation. “It’s just… weirdly hot, okay? You look like you just ran through a hurricane, but in, like… a GQ spread kind of way.”

Lance raised an eyebrow, amused and intrigued. “So, you do like it.”

You pressed your lips together. “Don’t make me regret speaking.”

He laughed really laughed and it hit you low in the belly. “No regrets,” he said. “But if you’re gonna keep staring, you might as well walk with me. I need water before I have to smile through fifteen interviews.”

You hesitated for all of half a second. “Fine. But only if you let me fix your hair.”

He stopped, genuinely surprised for a beat, then leaned his head slightly toward you. “Deal. But I warn you it’s got a mind of its own.”

---

You ended up walking together all the way back to the hospitality unit.

He handed you a water bottle before grabbing one for himself, then flopped down onto the cushioned bench under the shade, patting the spot beside him.

You sat, pretending to act chill which was hard, considering your brain was on a loop of: he smells like sweat and cologne and god, why is that hot?

He handed you a towel. “You sure you wanna try this? I feel like I might owe you danger pay.”

You smirked. “Hold still.”

Your fingers slipped gently into his hair, and the moment you touched him, everything slowed. The curls were warm, soft, slightly damp and you tried not to think about how many people would kill to be in this exact position, fingers in Lance Stroll’s hair while he sat willingly, looking up at you like you hung the stars.

“You’re really good at this,” he murmured after a moment, his voice quieter now.

“I’ve got sisters. And a very vain cat,” you joked, but your voice was softer, too.

He chuckled, and the sound vibrated through your hand where it rested against his temple.

You smoothed out a stray curl and leaned back slightly, inspecting your work. “Better.”

He didn’t move. Just looked at you, eyes slightly darker than before.

“So…” he said, still not blinking. “How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

“You have. You just weren’t looking,” you replied, a little bolder than before.

He smiled at that. “Well, I’m looking now.”

Your breath caught.

Something shifted between you something real and unspoken, like gravity pulling just a bit harder.

Then, Lance leaned back slightly and tilted his head with a grin. “If I keep letting you fix my helmet hair, will you keep hanging out with me?”

You laughed, trying to calm your pulse. “Depends. If I fix it again, do I get a kiss on the forehead like they do with the cars?”

He smirked, that lazy, flirtatious glint returning. “Nah. You’d get something better.”

Your eyes widened, and you bit your lip. “Like what?”

He stood then, tossing his empty water bottle into the bin with ease before turning back to you.

“I guess you’ll have to fix it again and find out,” he said with a wink.

And with that, he disappeared into the media pen leaving you flushed, grinning, and entirely certain that helmet hair might just be your new favorite thing in the world.

---

Hope you like it 🤭💕

[nadvs]

can i request for the swte universe in their college days, reader seems like a perfectionist to me so what if she failed on an exam or she didn't get there in time and she failed her class and she got really upset, feeling terrible about herself, very disappointed and rafe tries to uplift her mood, trying to get her out of her dorm room?🤍🤍🤍

omg yessss i always love your prompts 🥹

based on this fic

» au masterlist

she had a bad feeling about the midterm. sometimes she could tell when she was being too hard on herself, when she was catastrophizing, but she knew she wasn’t exaggerating when she told rafe that her mind went blank during the test and that she’s sure she failed.

now, as she sits in her dorm checking her grade on her laptop the night after, she gets the confirmation.

she texts her boyfriend, just like she did when they were best friends and told each other everything. i was right.

her phone starts buzzing with a phone call.

“you okay?” he says when she picks up. he remembers that her grade was supposed to be posted tonight.

“no,” she says with a defeated laugh.

rafe is with the guys, watching a game at the house. he stands up off the couch, holding his phone to his ear. one of his housemates points to the screen, eyebrow raised, clearly confused why rafe would leave when there’s a minute left in an intense game.

but he ignores him, rounding the corner to pace into the hallway. he leans back against a wall, arm crossed over his chest.

“how bad is it?” he asks.

“so bad that i’m working on an email to my prof to ask if i can retake it or do anything for extra credit,” she says. “i didn’t even pass.”

he can hear the panic in her voice. rafe chews on his thumbnail as he stares down at the floor.

“it’s not over,” he says. he realizes he sounds just like he does when he’s trying to motivate his teammates between periods during a rough game. he rethinks his approach. this isn’t a game. this is his girl. and she’s freaked out about her future.

“baby, it happens,” he says. “everyone fails at some point.”

“this is so bad,” she mumbles. “i’m so stupid.”

he grimaces. they’re basically the same person. he knows how much pressure she puts on herself. sometimes, he’s almost certain that she thinks she has to be perfect to be worth something, just like he does.

“where are you?” he asks.

“home.” her inhale is shaky. “i shouldn’t have stayed up late studying so much. i thought it’d be better to learn what i could, but running on barely any sleep must’ve messed me up.”

“send the email,” he says. “and be ready in half an hour, okay?”

she’s quiet for a moment.

“why?”

“because i know you’re gonna sit in your room all night, beating yourself up, thinking about what you should’ve done and there’s no point to any of it,” he says. “just be ready, alright?”

moments like these, she’s glad her boyfriend is so bossy and decisive. her head is such a mess right now, somehow feeling both chaotic and blank at the same time.

rafe texts when he arrives. when she settles in his passenger seat, he can see that she’s been crying. he shuts off his music and gently pulls her in, his palm at the back of her neck, so that she’ll nuzzle into his chest.

it’s his go-to move when she’s upset. it always works. after crying against him for a moment, her breaths start to even out.

he kisses her forehead, his hand running up and down her back. he hates this feeling, when she’s so stressed out and he’s utterly powerless.

“you’re not stupid,” he mumbles against her hair.

“i am. i’m so disappointed in myself,” she says, her voice brittle. “how could i fuck up this bad?”

he frowns. he knows her well enough by now. sometimes she needs tough love. sometimes it’s the only thing that’ll pull her out of her haze.

“it happened,” he says. he pulls back just enough so she can look up at him. “can you change that it happened?”

“no.”

“is calling yourself stupid going to fix it?”

“no.”

“that’s my girl you’re talking to,” he says, his blue eyes sweeping over her face in worry. “my girl isn’t stupid.”

her lips twist in sorrow, but she nods, eyelids fluttering. she spirals sometimes. she can tell she’s doing it right now.

rafe’s hand rests on her damp cheek, rubbing his thumb over her skin.

“you anxious?” he asks.

“very,” she replies.

so, he decides to see if his most effective way of cooling down when he’s wired will help her.

he pulls into a lot by an outdoor court he always sees on his drive to her campus and takes the basketball out of his trunk when he parks.

“this is kind of unfair,” she says lightheartedly when she gets out of his car into the cool night air. “no chance i’m winning a one-on-one against you.”

“we’re just shooting hoops,” he says, putting an arm around her as he holds the ball to his chest.

the court is empty and quiet and dimly lit. they stand below one of the nets, bouncing the ball back and forth between each other.

“what if i fail the course?” she says.

“you won’t.”

“but if i do?”

“if you do, you’ll survive,” rafe replies. “you think some class can take you down?”

she breathes a chuckle. when she gets the ball back, she holds it, standing across from him, staring. all they ever are with each other is honest. it’s how it’s always been.

“i’m scared,” she admits. “i’m scared this will throw off my timing and i won’t graduate when i want to.”

“baby, there’s no way that’s happening,” he says confidently. “one bad grade won’t do that.”

“you seem so sure,” she states. she bounces the ball back to him.

“here. if i make this, it means you’ll fail the course.”

he takes the ball in both hands, holds it over his head, and throws it so it hits the rim hard, making the whole backboard shake as the ball goes flying down the court.

“i think that was rigged,” she says, the ache in her chest loosening as she laughs.

“we’ll never know,” rafe half-shouts as he runs to pick up the ball. he bounces it back to her.

she dribbles it a few times, squaring up with the net, and launches the ball in the air. it falls in the net.

“nice,” he breathes. “don’t let my coach see you. he’ll replace me.”

she turns to look at him, mirroring his smile.

“you’re laying it on a little thick, cameron,” she teases. she’s touched that he’s being so sweet just to cheer her up.

“just telling it like it is,” he says. he passes the ball to her again. “let’s see how you do with some defense.”

he steps between her and the net, a hard wall against her. his hands find her hips as she tries to line up with the net, his big frame moving with her.

“i’m pretty sure that’s a technical foul,” she says. “you can’t touch me like that.”

“nah, that’s not a rule.”

“you can’t just decide that,” she laughs.

“such a tight-ass,” he scoffs with a smirk, taking his hands off her hips and cradling her face. “how about this? this allowed?”

she giggles, holding the ball in one hand and hooking the other around his neck to pull him closer. their lips touch tenderly, both of them expelling a quiet sigh of contentment under the kiss.

she pulls back. he’s too busy staring at her in awe to block her from making another shot.

“your defense sucks,” she teases. rafe puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage.

“now you’re trash-talking?” he says. she watches him pick up the ball. he makes it look so effortless, the net swishing as the ball whizzes through it.

she’s seen him on the court so many times before, but she never tires of the sight, always so struck by how skilled he is.

they play for another twenty minutes, talking and taking turns shooting hoops, until she finally feels too tired to keep going. and she realizes she hasn’t thought about her failed midterm the entire time.

“thank you,” she says as they settle in his car. “i feel better. sweaty, but better.”

“it always works. just gotta burn your energy on something else so you can’t use it stressing out.”

“smart,” she says. “i’ll keep that in mind when i take your spot on the team.”

“i’m not so sure about that anymore,” he says. “you take fucking forever to throw. you’d run out the shot clock every time.”

she laughs, thinking about how many times in the last twenty minutes she kept the ball in her hands while she got lost in conversation with him.

she playfully shoves him, but he takes her hand and pulls her in, meeting her in a slow kiss.

“listen, i don’t want to hear the word stupid come out of your mouth again,” he mumbles. “not when you’re talking about yourself. i’m serious.”

she looks down at her lap, exhaling slowly. she knows he’s right. there’s no reason for her to bully herself so mercilessly.

“okay.���

“and please, baby,” he says solemnly, his tone deep as if he’s about to say something serious, “throw the ball faster next time.”

“i hate you,” she laughs, shoving him again. he smirks at her, putting the car in drive.

rafe has felt proud of himself a few times in his life, mostly with his athletic achievements, but he thinks that hearing her laugh, knowing he’s the one who made her feel better, is the proudest he’s ever felt.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Windows To the Soul- Kinktober Week Two

Juliette Nichols x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI 18+

[Originally labelled 'Mirror, Mirror On the Wall, Who's the Biggest Slut of Them All?]

Summary: An unplanned visit after your abrupt breakup with the Sheriff of the Silo brings unexpected revelations.

Kinks: Mirror sex, post-break-up sex.

A/N: This fic is less explicit smut and more graphic emotion-wise. What is the dirtiest, most sinful thing one can do if not admit they need another? (I am struggling to write the smut and it shows bc everything I write is just SAD).

Word Count: 2.1k

Every breath of air you took in this moment felt woefully inadequate. You couldn’t get a breath in, not a true, full-bellied breath that would soothe the ache in your lungs, relax the tension in your stomach, release the blockage in your throat. Three weeks of no contact, not a single glance in the hallways, and she was back, sitting on your couch like she’d never left. Taking you off guard in your own home. It’s something Juliette would do. The same blonde hair falling out of a too-loose ponytail, unbuttoned uniform and belt loosened to accommodate the natural press of her slouched abdomen against her pants.

“Jules.”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know who moved first, her barreling towards you off of her perch on the couch, you careening forwards and meeting her halfway. Her hands on your back, hips, shoulders, grasping-grabbing-pulling-yanking-cradling-holding all of you. Her mouth smashing against yours, the goddamned whimper she let out. All of the anger and hurt of the break up forgotten in the paroxysm of her body on yours, her mouth tracing hungry patterns wherever it found purchase.

“Jules, wait, please-”

A swipe of her hand over the table, glassware smashing on the floor; the destructive nature of her desires on full display.

“I can’t get you out of my head.” she whispered, nose pressed against your temple and shaky breaths puffing out over the small hairs that clung next to your ear.

That stupid face. Those stupid blue eyes and cocky smirk, the class of glassware.

“Get the fuck off.” you shoved her back, getting off the table.

A perplexed look came over Juliette’s face, her hands raised in mock surrender.

“Sorry.”

“You would be.” you snapped. 

The broken glass littered the already well worn linoleum. Another mess, another headache Juliette brought upon you. Neither of you spoke a word as you swept the broken glass into a pan, putting it in a bag for now.

“I should’ve slapped you.” you mumbled, not quite meaning it.

Juliette raised her brows, shaking her head dismissively. Her thumbs worked circles over the fabric where they perched out of her pockets, adding to the sheepish posture.

“Yeah, well sex with your ex is supposed to be cathartic.” she sighed.

“Not if you ended on bad terms.” you snapped.

Juliette shrugged, using your less than furious response as a cue to push forwards a little more. One step closer towards you at a time, slowly invading your personal space.

“It was a short fling, I didn't think I needed an explanation for leaving.”

Her reasoning was nothing short of inadequate. A fling, a minor dance of passion between two people who were just in the same place at the right time. Until it was the wrong time. But it hadn’t been, not in your eyes. Realizing she had never really gotten over George well enough to love another had been a hard pill to swallow, one you’d only managed recently.

“You know, you really should’ve made it clear that you weren’t planning on staying.” 

Looking at her was an awful mixture between painful and infuriating. You busied yourself with the dishes instead. They’d been soaking long enough, it was a matter of draining the water and actually washing them. Such an act conveniently coincided with having the excuse to avoid looking at her.

“Listen, I get that you’re upset that I wasn’t upfront about what I wanted, but no one ever is, so…” Jules shrugged, watching as you dove headfirst into the nearest task.

“Doesn’t excuse the fact that you just up and left. Lead me on… Flirted, teased, even hinted at something more in the future. Kind of like how George did to you.”

Juliette let out a groan of anger, turning on her heel and running a hand over her scalp in the anxious-avoidant motion she was so fond of.

“Founders be damned, are we just going to sit here and trade barbs all day?” she huffed. “I have enough shit going wrong for me, I don’t need you-”

“Oh you're still entitled to me?” you snapped. “Pretty mature of you, slinking back for a less than underhanded attempt at trying to fuck me.”

Juliette spun on her heel, now facing you. Her jaw quirked to the left, mouth working its way into a grimace. Again she smoothed her hair, hands stilling on her hips.

“I came because I wanted to apologize, and then you came in with your business casual shirt all rumpled, and in that damn skirt that just hugs your body, so yeah, maybe I got a little side tracked.”

There was nothing you could say to that. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly a compliment. She’d left emotional baggage and pain the same way George had left it with her. A cute little cycle, but not one you excused her from. Soap was up to your upper arms, each dish scrubbed beyond what was really necessary to get it clean, but it was better than outright hurling something at her.

“Listen, I do miss some things, it just… For so long I didn’t know what I wanted, and now I do. And it’s not here, not with you, as wonderful as you are…” she choppily advocated, taking slow steps forwards until she was just short of touching you.

“As wonderful as I am you’re an asshole who wanted someone to fuck and hold you close while you were going through your shit. There’s a word for it, and it’s called a rebound. Shittiest thing you could ever do to a person, honestly.”

A long sigh crested over your shoulder, close enough to tickle the back hairs of your neck. Her arms snaked forwards, resting lightly on the swell of your hips. 

“Crawling back to you isn’t what I was planning, but I can’t resist another go…”

An arm snaked around your front ready to pull you back towards her, to snag you and pull you towards another hook up you knew you’d regret.

“Just one more time, for the fun of it…” Juliette whispered, breath climbing over your ear, attempting to lure you into a yes.

Anger welled up again, and this time you had a sink full of soapy water and a small pot to work with. Turning on your heel, you doused her front with several cups of warm dishwater. Juliette looked down at her clothes, and then you. 

“I have the maturity problem? Yeah right.” 

She reached in the sink, using a bowl to douse your work clothes in that same water. You smacked her with the damp dish towel, she snapped your ass. The two of you fought like children, splashing each other with water until both of you were wetter than not. A particularly violent toss of water caused your frictionless shoes to slip on the linoleum, causing you to careen back. The plastic cup fell against the floor, your body careening down towards the ground. Two hands reached outward, gripping your shoulders. Juliette let out a yelp, losing traction as well. You both crashed against the floor in a mess of limbs. Her elbow against your ribs, her chin clacking shut as her jaw cracked against your shoulder.

Both of you groaned, each more than a little sore. Juliette adjusted her body over yours, staring down at you, laid upon the linoleum with water lining the floor around you. Her head blocked the main light of the kitchen, creating a small halo around her head as she looked down upon you with more than a fair degree of concern. Neither of you broke the silence. Doing such a thing would be precarious, shattering the subtle tranquility of the moment. She settled above you, elbows on either side of your face. 

When she leaned down you didn’t push her away. Her body was warm, seeping through the damp cloth of her soaked uniform. You swore you could still feel the familiar dip and swell of her muscular back, and as your hands traced the line of her spine, you found the familiar divot at the base, hiding just under where her belt sat. Juliette, to her credit, was far more cautious in her next attempt. Soft kisses graced your cheeks, her fingers just lightly tracing the hair above your ears.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“Since we’re both here…” you softly replied, a squeeze to her back to affirm that subtle consent.

Juliette hummed once, hands sliding under your torso, pulling you up and off of the wet floor. Her hand cradled the back of your head, soothing pressure overwhelming the dull ache from where your skull had made contact with the ground. To have Juliette be this soft with you spoke to her inner guilt, a phenomena you’d witnessed many times after she vented to you about George. But you wouldn’t complain. Not when she was pulling you up, cradling you to her like a small child, carrying you away, out of the kitchen, towards the bathroom. 

As your feet touched the ground, she caught your chin, pressing a soft kiss there. A reassuring kiss, probably the only real intimacy you’d get out of this experience. Her mouth found your neck, wetter, meaner, hungrier kisses working slow patterns down, her calloused hands undoing the zipper of your skirt, the buttons of your blouse. Your own hands shook as you undid her uniform. Belt clanging to the floor with her slacks, uniformed button up shrugged off in the same manner you’d watched countless times. Neither of you could speak at this moment, neither of you dared. Words could ruin this moment, would ruin it. 

By the third time her lips crashed against yours you were finally bold enough to reciprocate, mouth slackening as her tongue slipped past your lips. She had the smallest hint of coffee breath, the one beverage you were sure she consumed regularly. Juliette lived on coffee, she depended on it in ways you knew to be worrisome. But when that coffee-breath stained tongue touched yours, it was a comfort. A spark of assurance in an otherwise vague moment. Her hands slipped to your back, yanking off your bra, blunt nails digging in with the desperation of her jerky moments. You both kicked off your shoes as you finished pulling off your panties. A push into the shower, that was all the direction she gave.

Cold water shocked your flushed skin as she turned the water on, body pressing against yours as she desperately kissed you against the shower wall. A quick glance to the long mirror in the bathroom confirmed the sight. Juliette’s hands tracing your hips, her mouth tracing desperate patterns on your neck. You didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. You’d wear turtlenecks for a month if that’s what you needed.

“Jules, look at me, please.” you broke the rhythm of the moment, trying to catch her gaze.

“I am.” she whispered.

Her gaze slipped to your right, and you turned, following it. Blue-steel eyes meeting yours in the slightly foggy mirror. You turned, still making that eye-contact as her hands slipped around you from behind. One hand down, parting your labia. The other cupped your left breast, thumb drawing circles over the pebbled flesh. 

You didn’t watch her hands as they stimulated you, fingers dipping inside, thumb tweaking your clit. You felt that. But all you saw were those blue eyes overrun with emotion. A white-hot throbbing erupted in your chest, complimenting and growing alongside the burning ache in your core. The sounds you both made, the way you moaned, the desperate whines she let out as she watched you climb higher, it was all background. Center stage were those blue eyes, heavy and burdened. 

One climax, then two. Your legs gave out, the two of you collapsing in the bathtub. You kissed hungrily, devouring her tongue, her lips, her breath. As her thigh made contact with your cunt, hers pressed against the complimentary thigh. And as you rocked together, you felt that grief.

The small little stuffed animal she kept in her bedroom, the books she had on her shelf. The way she left all of her socks inside out to ensure she didn’t put them on with a hair inside. The nose scrunch, the awkward bug-eyed look she sported most of the time.

“Please stay.” you whispered, your hands splaying over her back.

Juliette leaned down, her forehead pressed against yours. One loud whine and she came undone. Her body slouched over yours in the bathtub, the shower going cold as the water pounded down around you. Juliette’s breathing evened, nose finding that familiar crook in your neck and just nuzzling.

Tags: @ilovehotactresses @marvelwomenrule @midnight-lestrange

[fortunekookie07]

I know I already posted this with a reblog, buuuuut it's gotten zero attention. I am aware that I am by far not the most popular writer, but I didn't think this story was awful either. I think maybe it's being blocked or something. Not sure. So take two! Please tell me your thoughts. They help me keep writing and improving.

Cereal IS a Soup

Zayne was still fast asleep by the time your eyes opened. His arm draped over your waist the comfort and safety you fell asleep to nearly every night. Carefully, you slowly roll over and watch his sleeping face. Ah, there it is, that little frown again. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle between his brows.

Moving closer, you kiss his nose before trying to leave his embrace. Now that you're awake, your bladder demands relief. As you try to move past his arm, it suddenly tightens, and he draws you closer into his chest. Then his morning groggy voice is in your ear. "Where do you think you're going?" He asks, voice deeper than usual, still rough from sleep.

"Bathroom", you say still trying to wiggle out of his arms. He holds you a moment longer and then finally releases you. You scramble out of bed, quickly untangling your legs from his and the mess you've made of the blankets.

After washing your hands you head to the kitchen to start some coffee. Glancing at the clock, you realize that it's late. Almost 10:30, Zayne hardly ever sleeps late. Usually he's up with the sun, not today. On his rare days off he does tend to sleep in. Just not this much. A few minutes later he's shuffling into the kitchen, looking more rested then usual.

He comes to stand beside you saying nothing as he waits for the coffee. Wordlessly you take his usual cup and pour the steaming liquid in and stir in cream and his four spoons of sugar. He likes his coffe sweet. As your handing him the cup he kisses your temple and then moves to the fridge. Having not been grocery shopping this week yet, choices are limited. It's definitely a cereal day.

You grab two bowls and spoons, and he grabs both kinds of cereal and milk. You grab the cheerios and pour some into your bowl, and wait for the milk. Zayne is just pouring the milk when he catches you staring at his bowl with that look on your face. He stops.

"Stop thinking whatever you're thinking." He says eyeing you like you're about to grow two heads. "Huh?" You say brilliantly not aware that, that tell tale silly look is on your face once again. Zayne has had many years to learn your expressions.

"You always have that look on your face when you're about to say something stupid just to annoy me. So cut it out..." You cut him off. "I love you." You say smiling innocently. He stares at you eyes narrowed as he pushes the milk towards you.

You grab it and start pouring before saying "Also, cereal qualifies as a soup." His spoon clatters on the table as he drops it and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I knew it." You giggle at him and start eating. "I mean think about it!" You start to elaborate on the qualifications of soup and the similarities of cereal. Zayne now has a full on face palm, his elbow on the table. "I married a five year old". He mutters earning more giggles from you as you finish off the rest of your bowl.

After setting your bowl in the sink you go over and poke his face, he looks up at you almost as if he expects something equally ridiculous to pop out of your mouth. Clearly he is regretting letting you get into that drunken, heated debate with a coworker the night before. How you got on the topic of soup is still a mystery to him.

You peck his cheek and say "cereal really should be considered soup. And I love you too." Zayne decides right then and there to never allow you to drink around anyone but him again. That should keep the shenanigans to a minimum. He pulls you down into his lap and says seriously, "cereal is not a soup and you're not allowed to drink with my coworkers anymore." He lightly pinches your lips together to keep you from protesting as he takes another sip of his coffee.

"No more silliness." He gives you that look before he releases your lips. You make a big show of rubbing your lips and pouting. "What do you want to do today?" He asks after a moment of silence. You think as you mind stars running with ideas, each one rejected the moment you realize you don't really want to leave the house today. "I just want to spend all day right by your side. I don't feel like going anywhere." He nods thoughtful as he considers the choices.

He wouldn't be opposed to just going right back to bed as long as you're right beside him. He always does sleep better with you tucked into his arms. He hooks his arm under your knees before standing. You look at him curiously as he makes his way back to the bedroom. "I wouldn't mind spending the day in bed. I just want to do nothing today." You smile perfectly content as he lays you down on the bed and then immediately follows.

After he's laying down and flipping the blankets back over you, he holds his arm out, and you immediately snuggle into his side, laying your head on his shoulder. After a few minutes of silence, you speak. "Zayne?" He hums in response. "I love you." His eyes open, and he looks down at you. "I love you too." He kisses your temple again and then squeezes you closer as you drift off to sleep. Content with your little slice of happiness.

****************************************************

This is what I came up with after reading a bit of dialog that love-and-deepspace-incorrect-quotes had thought up. As promised, it's packed with cheesyness. I hope you liked it!

[apple-onigiri]

assigning songs from mitski's laurel hell album to siffrin and loop (because they've consumed my life)

as mentioned by me and requested by @starrycat123-blog (so sweetly, might i add!! they were so polite about it, not realizing being asked to yap is the highlight of my day), i am putting together a comprehensive list of all the songs from mitski's laurel hell album assigned to sif/loop/sif and loop two sides of the same silver coin style

Valentine, Texas this is so loop-coded, to me. me when i become someone else only i am privy to (note: this includes my other self) and live in the constant state of remembrance of my ghosts. "who will i be tonight?" <- me when i lie. me when i create a persona to hide behind. me and my disconnected sense of self. me when please let me live in my memories of things long gone please please please

Working for the Knife both of them!! this is the Ultimate Time Loop song. looks at the "i always knew the world moves on; i just didn't know it would go without me" line with an understanding but still very aware gaze. this is also peak living in the midst of your poor choices. you wake up on the grass of the meadow and, as you start reconstructing the same blinding script because you keep deciding to do so, suddenly this starts playing. what do you do

Stay Soft the "if i refuse to be open and honest and vulnerable i'm basically impervious to being hurt" is so very much mid-game-but-specifically-act-4 siffrin, fake smiling his way through his stupid-ass script because it protects his heart from any change that has at least the slightest potential to hurt him. the sheer possibility is too much. also bonus guilt of wanting, and circumventing it by focusing on what others want 'do you need help with anything' style. also also bonus+ "where the dark remembers you". i need to kill, maim, destroy because this play is about mpd who haunts the narrative of this album and this post

Everyone act 5. act 5 siffrin to an insane degree. i feel slightly ill about this actually like you cannottttt be serious. this song is deeply siffrin just going through the house after pushing away everyone else. "i left the door open to the dark; i said, come in, come in, whenever you want" and "and i opened my arms wide to the dark; i said take it all, whatever you want". looks directly into the camera mouthing "mal du pays"

Heat Lightning both. really really both but!! specifically with loop being the first half and so to speak passing the torch in the bridge to siffrin who's the second half. goddd i genuinely could make an animatic for this if it was as simple as beaming the images directly from my brain onto the screen, i'm walking around my room like a demented detective haunted by a cold case just thinking about it. "there's nothing i can do, not much i can change", by their own unbreakable rules!!! it's about the act of losing strength to keep fighting after doing that for so, so long and just wanting to rest, please with the people you love, please. "would that be okay?" i need to stop i can't make 1/3 of this post be about heat lightning (it could be)

The Only Heartbreaker siffrin 'i manipulated him into liking me' no last name. because when you're the only one in the time loop and the only one also in the loop, it's easy to view the positive interactions you're constantly getting as ones that you coerced. "so i'll be the loser in this game; i'll be the bad guy in the play". i actually feel haunted by this, i'm not kidding

Love Me More are you kidding. both. that's a song about what started this whole mess. the love-starved anthem that also has themes of searching for something to keep you going and of not trying anything risky out of fear to avoid getting hurt and of days repeating and repeating and repeating, and of needing the love to drown you, overwhelm you, purge you clean. this is their song. goddd

There's Nothing Left For You loop 'formerly siffrin' 'not anymore!' 'get replaced by your other self, idiot, you can't go back!' no last name. 59 dead, 118 injured. "nothing waits for you; you had it before; not anymore". "so go on at that sweetheart's door; and find a new you". "it was your right, it was your life; and then it passed to someone new". i literally don't think i need to add anything. it not only speaks but screams out for itself

Should've Been Me loop song. we all know this. i hate it here. "when i saw a girl looked just like me". c'mon. we've all seen the animatic, also. i literally have nothing else to say here, i'm basically out of a job

I Guess this is a spicy one - this is siffrin specifically after the two hats ending. this is a very short song but i'm struggling to keep this paragraph contained. "it's been you and me since before i was me; without you, i don't yet know how to live". i cry out dramatically, clutching my chest. "if i could keep anything of you; i would keep just this quiet after you". i fall on my knees and hit my fist against the floor. "it's still as a pond i am staring into; from here, i can say thank you; from here, i can tell you thank you". i'm sorry, siffrin. and thank you, loop. someone get me out of here

That's Our Lamp everybody say hiiiii act 5 siffrin but specifically pre-house. because he has a little demon on his shoulder telling him "they don't love you, they hate you" and making him crash out on everyone. so love-starved his body is rejecting any sign of care and love like someone starved eating too much and their body rejecting it. "that's where you loved me" in the context of looking over all the places in dormont where you "made" your found family love you is diabolical

and that's it!! i genuinely could go into deconstructing lyrics especially for some songs where it's clear i have more to say like heat lightning or love you more but i went into this determined to not go completely crazy with the length of this thing. love and light, everyone, hope you enjoyed

[silly-circus]

★SillyString’s story/background★

(Way long overdue lmao and long I’m so sorry guys, also made some edits because I wanted to word some things better)

I want to start off by saying she is me, me is she(Im not sure if I made it clear or not so apologies I’m kinda dumb🫰). I say “her” in my posts instead of “me” because idk it feels right since I make her look differently than I actually do. Even so, we share the same name and I do the clown look all the time when I go out to places that I get an excuse to🧍‍♂️so really it is just me but anyway,,, time to begin! This is my first time actually writing this out so I’m sorry if it’s formatted and explained terribly

First off, Silly String is my persona’s clown name. She came up with it herself, everything else was Pennywise’s idea. She was originally a human, and still looks like one and has the appetite of one(when she changed Pennywise assumed she would want to eat people. He was wrong.) She lived in texas(yee-honk) before moving to Maine literally because she thought “why not?” and ended up in good old Derry. Her life growing up wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t the best. She was always into odd and strange things, or things that most would find creepy(clowns. Love clowns. They’re so cool) so she was kinda outcasted from others at a young age but soon people learned to just let her live in peace which of course she was happy about. She did manage to make some friends, solidarity. After moving, she continued pursuing freelance photography and painting, but her full time job is as a barista in a local coffee shop(wow, how interesting💀).

The way that she met Pennywise was kinda stupid. All she was doing was taking photos of the local wildlife and next thing you know a kid is running by before she notices a fucking weird ass clown creature from hell charging straight towards her(she still snapped a photo before running). He does catch up to her and jumps her. How she managed to not get away, but the kid did, don’t ask me. She survived, her camera unfortunately did not(he gets her a new one eventually guys trust).

since then, they kept bumping into each other. He does try to kill her again but she kept managing to escape him(pissed him off more and more each time) but soon enough he starts to chill out and basically decides to learn more about her. The more she realized he was going to not continuously try eat her every time he visited she would start asking him questions about who he was as an entity and where he came from. It does start out as a weird friendship where he would mess with her at work or appear out of literally no where to hang around. He does start to enjoy her company and watching her do normal, human things since her doing it made it seem entertaining. After a while of slowly getting closer and closer they become loving parters yay(she was still human at this time).

Fast forward and they get “married” which they really call their “eternal binding.” Basically what it means is that she became a part of him. As in if he dies, she dies. She unfortunately didn’t gain any cool shape shifting and such, she just gets to live and thrive as long as he does. When it first happened she was having a hard time with it simply because she’s going to outlive everyone she knows and will continue to, but over time she made her peace with it and saw it as a privilege to watch the world change around her and of course stay with her beloved.

Also the year they met was set in the 1980s, or honestly it could be any time after that or something I don’t know yall get creative I’m just going with the flow.

That is it :) sorry again this is long, and I hope every one has a good day/night(it’s 3 am why do I do this to myself). I also hope you guys continue to follow along with me on their lover clown journey :D

AND- little sneak peek of an upcoming piece I’m working on for Mermay 😙

[raccoonface]

Drabble #1

Jenna Ortega/Fem. Reader

—————————————

Y/ns Pov

I'm getting ready for a photoshoot for Vogue. Ever since I was little I always dreamt about how it looks like behind the camera at a photoshoot and now I can finally see it.

I'm deciding on wearing something casual or something fancy, I chose casual of course because I would look stupid as a photographer looking fancy.

I head to my car to drive to the photoshoot place which isn't too far from the apartment I'm staying at it's only about a half an hour drive there.

The place has a grey tone for the outside I can see while I park my vehicle heading to the front door, and knocking a couple of times, nobody answered so I turned around to go on my phone to check if I'm in the wrong place.

When I do I hear the door open so I spin my heel and- CLASH-

... I now have a milkshake all over me

"Oh my god.. I am so sorry!"

I looked down at me worried about the stain the. I looked up and I saw the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my entire life and she was trying to clean up the mess on my shirt then she looked up at me with a confused face

"Oh- sorry uhm it's really no big deal I can go find another shirt"

Find another shirt wow dumbass nice talking

"I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going then I dropped a milkshake on you let me pay you back for the shirt."

I was in awe staring at her but I realized she was handing me money and I couldn't let a pretty girl pay for my shirt

"Oh no please take your money back I don't need it this was only like 15 bucks I'll be fine"

"Are you sure..? It looks really messed up plus you just got here and you're gonna have to spend the rest of the day in a drenched shirt"

"Oh yeah I'll be fine I'll just go use the washing machine"

Now she probably thinks you're a weirdo because there aren't any washing machines in the building

"Okay... well I'm gonna go now"

She points to the garage

"Ok..."

She started to walk away but then I realized that she never told me her name

"Wait!"

"Yeah?!"

"I never got your name!"

"It's Jenna! What's yours?!"

"Y/n!"

"Nice to meet you Y/n!"

She laughed after she said that and I'm pretty sure I had just heard an angel and I realized how stupid I was for not replying to her

"Oh..um Nice to meet you too Jenna!"

I heard her laugh again and it was the most angelic sound I had ever heard. I couldn't get enough of it. I had no doubt it would be replaying in my mind.

———————————————————————

Idk if I’m ever gonna finish this but if you guys want me to I will. I also am starting to work some more on these but you’ll have to give me a little time. I don’t know when but I have a Cairo one in the works that I might post soon.

[i-politely-disagree]

Sprace- Call

MODERN AU TW: Swearing??

(I've never posted on here lol)

Spot cringed as his phone call was answered. Usually, it just went straight to the far too familiar  “Hi it’s Racetrack! Don’t leave a message!” voicemail to hurt him even more with the fact that he was either blocked, or Race was declining all his calls. A harsh ‘What do you want?’ may not have been ideal, but Spot still smiled softly at the sound of his ex’s voice.

"Hey…Race," He started. The same words he had said almost every day a month ago. Throwing his bag down as he got back from work, striking up conversations at 2 a.m even though they both needed to be up early, Starting a call much like this one if anything happened. "Do you still have my white shirt with the sleeves?" 

When Race’s phone displayed Spot’s caller ID, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, maybe an explanation that it was a dare, or maybe some tearful confession about how his love never died. Anything with more emotion than requesting an old shirt.

“Um… I’ll look around.” The conversation was too stiff, too formal. Race fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt that definitely wasn’t Spot’s (it was) that he was wearing and paced around the couch he slept on. 

“What do you need it for?”

He’d never admit it, but Race missed Spot more than he could tell. Hearing his voice again was painful, but something to feel. He had been a mess the last month, living with his best friend, missing sleep and working his ass off to help pay the rent when it was paying the rent that got him into this mess. Spot had walked out after the topic of money had come up, only after many anger-clouded words had been thrown between him and Race. Just thinking about it, Race could taste the regret and adrenaline and feel the knot of codependency tighten as it had done that night when he realized how alone and helpless he was. Even though he hadn’t anticipated a break-up, it wasn’t like Race was expecting-

“A wedding,” Spot answered coldly and quickly. Dwelling on love around him wasn’t going to help him swallow the lump in his throat.

He regretted walking out every day. He knew deep down, that he could’ve walked back in at any moment with nothing fixed, another argument ignored, but weeks passed and Race lost the apartment he could only afford with Spot’s help. Spot lost the one stable thing in his life, the one person he felt like he could talk to, the stupidity, wittiness, energy and affection that came with Race and he missed it more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was his chance to salvage any scraps of a relationship but didn’t know how to begin. 

“I’m sorry.” It was a struggle to force the words out of his mouth, but Spot managed to sound a lot more stable than he felt. 

Race’s reply was so emotionless it hurt. No sadness, not even a quiver in his voice, no hope. Just a bland question reminding Spot he’d made more than enough mistakes;

“About what?” 

“Um, This. Calling you, acting like nothing’s happened, acting like I don’t care.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Spot knew he would have to address the elephant in the room.

“...And leaving. I was- I am so stupid for walking out. It sounds pathetic but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I really lo- I really loved you.” 

Race’s soft smile threatened to fall at the use of past tense.  His mind tried to object, but a smirk tugged at his lips and words crawled out.

“You miss me.”  He observed, a mix of teasing and astonishment now unmistakable in his voice

“No, I just really want my shirt,” Spot said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if Race could see him over the phone.  “Yes, I fucking miss you.”

Spot hated himself for giving in that easily. But at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere or anyone for that matter.

Warm hope bloomed through Race at the less-than-heartfelt confession, sudden longing for the one person he thought he’d never be allowed to long for again. A million hazy emotions flew through his mind but he couldn’t articulate everything he was feeling and couldn’t force every heavy sentiment through the phone. He needed to know this was genuine before pouring his heart out. 

Spot’s finger was over the ‘End Call’ button when Race interrupted their silence, “But you said-”

“I said a lot of things,” Spot cut him off, “We both did. But I’d bet this month's rent you didn’t mean half of it.” 

Race wanted to object, but it was true. He hadn’t meant anything close. And while he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t regret it again, heavy words slid off his tongue;

“I miss you too. But look, we can’t just…go back to whatever we had a month ago.”

“Bad communication and not-yet-healed commitment issues?”

Race exhaled deeply, “Yeah, that. But I can’t- I mean- I’ve got your shirt. Please just come and get it so we can at least talk in person.” 

Spot running down apartment stairs full speed to reunite with his ex-boyfriend was probably something countless medical professionals would advise against but, quite frankly, he was more than willing to break a wrist or two for another shot. He managed a couple of breathless words that were essentially just ‘See you soon’ before falling into his car in a haze of nerves and emotions pretty damn close to excitement. Serious conversations weren’t his forté but were better than a familiar voicemail.

[cerseimikaelson]

15. Is so Everlaya coded.

20. Selena messing with Lord Milori. Something tells me she’s been grounded before.

Ooh, let's see what I can come up with.

"I'd kill for a coffee... literally."

Milori's head snapped up at that, even though he had been fully immersed in the book he was reading (a rather fascinating tome on how the fairies before them used to carve symbols on the ice to channel Winter's magic through them in times of war) only a few seconds ago.

His eyes- a well-rested glacier blue today, one of the rarer hues- narrowed as he took in his second in command. She had just plopped down on the plush rug beside him, the firelight dancing off her white hair and casting the scar on her face into stark relief. It might have been off-putting to their warm season kin, unused to anything that went against their ways as they were, but those that knew what it was like to survive a volatile threat in the shadows of the Winter Woods against all odds had nothing but respect for her.

Even reverence, on occasion, which Milori knew she detested.

"I am sincerely trying to come up with a version of what you just said that doesn't put me in a very precarious position, but I am coming up empty. For my peace of mind alone if you have any respect for it, please tell me I won't find you scrubbing any suspicious stains off the carpet in the near future."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You really think I'd be that sloppy?"

"That's what you got from this?"

"What I got is that you're permanently crossed off the list of people to call when in need of burying a body." she huffed as though sorely disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm at his most trusted advisor entertaining casual murder over a hot beverage.

"Why is there such a list and why was I ever considered a suitable candidate?"

Everlaya rolled her eyes at how his voice had gone higher, and crossed her legs, having removed the armor after their earlier patrol. The hour was dreadfully late, and Milori could only hope most their fairies were already in bed, otherwise they'd be falling asleep standing up at their post tomorrow and he'd be forced to give a lecture.

Again.

And that couldn't happen. Not until the end of the week, at least, when he'd be free to make up for the lost time.

"Is your bet with the demon still running?" Everlaya grinned wickedly, enjoying his misery.

"I can totally last for more than a week without lecturing someone on safety regulations." Milori persisted as he'd done no less than 67 times this week- to Everlaya, Dewey, Basil, even Selena herself. It was remarkable that this many people had the same reaction.

"Some frost talents have started a betting pool on how long you'll last, you know."

"Our fairies need to learn to handle their money better." Milori grumbled under his breath, then froze when he realized exactly what he'd said.

Everlaya cackled.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Selena."

He was touched at the rare bout of empathy.

"I didn't know you were on my corner, Ev."

She stared. Milori stared back. Her eyebrow went up again, prompting, challenging. Milori blinked, then groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You're in on the bet? I- you- seriously, Everlaya, she's never going to stop pestering us if we just keep enabling her!"

"Quit pretending you aren't wrapped around that girl's finger." Everlaya waved her own pointer right under his nose. "Besides, the entire Winter Woods agreed you could do with some pestering. The vote was unanimous."

"You had a meeting over this?!"

"You can ask Dewey for the minutes."

Milori buried his face in his hands and gave a muffled groan. "You're all menaces."

"I am your very dedicated second in command and leader of your army that just spent the past six hours tracking down a yeti hideout and then warded the whole place so none of your subjects that consider poking their noses into a magical creature's lair is an adventure instead of obscenely stupid end up becoming popsicles."

Milori slowly raised his head.

"... I'll get the beans. Milk and sugar are in the cupboard."

"I know, genius. I told Selena where you put your groceries so she can replenish your cookie stash before you realize she's been sneaking into your kitchen."

"Everlaya!"

[ateliersss]

Spark and Heart

Pairing: Ironhide x Fem!Reader Summary: It's one thing to fall in love with a robotic alien, but to expose your feelings in such a humiliating way? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 3,331

Leather.

You could still feel the leather underneath your skin as the fingernails of your left hand dug into the seat of the GMC Topkick C4500 while your other hand was busy between your legs.

You could still remember the delicious stretch as you slowly inserted first one finger, then a second, and then a third.

You could still picture your body, your back arching against the backrest of the front seat.

You could still not forget how you had spread your legs wider, how you had switched your grip to the steering wheel, how you had moaned his name before you could think about it or prevent it.

The moment the euphoric waves of your orgasm subsided, you became aware of the horror that just happened. You suddenly realized where you were, who you were with.

The deafening silence that followed was heavy on your shoulders. Before you could think twice, you hastily pulled down the skirt of your dress, fumbled for the door handle and fled the truck. You started to walk away, not caring where to, still trying to comprehend what you just had done.

You were ashamed. You wanted to cry. You had just humiliated yourself right in front of him.

After ten minutes of walking, you took a look over your shoulder and saw that he had followed you, a distance of about three meters between you.

Back in the present, you pressed your palms against your eyes and let out a frustrated groan.

Since that day, you had avoided Ironhide as much as possible, something which didn't turn out to be difficult as — although he had only reluctantly left your side and had voiced out how much he hated doing so — he was busy with the other Autobots looking for Decepticons around the world.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up and into Mikaela's face, which was displayed on your computer.

"Mikaela. Hi."

Mikaela was the only one you could talk to about it, and not just because she knew about the Autobots. No, it was because she was a girl and a friend. Like hell would you tell your brother about your feelings for a robotic alien and about you masturbating as you were thinking about said alien while you were literally sitting inside him.

"What's wrong?" She asked, concerned.

You groaned again, resting your forehead on the surface of your desk. "I messed up." You mumbled.

"What?"

Sitting up, you repeated louder, "I messed up! Big time. God, I'm such an idiot."

"Is college life that bad? I thought screws, circuits and such are your thing." Mikaela grinned.

You laughed weakly, "It is. Ratchet is a sweetheart for answering every of my calls when I needed help, but that's not the reason I wanted to talk to you."

Mikaela's eyes darted across her computer screen, scanning the limited space of your room that your webcam was capturing. "Please tell me you're alone."

You rolled your eyes. "Of course I am. I'm not stupid. My roommate is in one of her classes."

"Good. If you want to talk about something top secret like giant robots you helped to save the world, you really should be alone."

"Not only that. I would be considered insane if someone heard me say that I am in love with my car."

Mikaela's eyebrows shot up.

You instantly avoided eye contact while playing with the pendant on your necklace — a silvery gear that belonged to Ironhide.

"(Y/N), come on. You can talk to me. You were there for me when I needed a girl I could talk to."

You grimaced in disgust. "Yeah, talk about my brother. Most of the time, I just wanted to rip my ears off."

"But you were there anyway. You listened and helped me. Now, I'll return the favor."

Nodding, you sat up straight and took a deep breath. "So, as you know, 'Hide drove me back to college after Spring Break was over. The journey took hours and to bridge the time we talked. Well, I talked, and he listened. However, after a while, the conversation became less one-sided. He answered questions I asked, and I answered questions he asked. He's a very tough cookie, but also… kinda a sweetheart." You shrugged.

Mikaela nodded, gesturing for you to continue.

"He decided to stay. His reasoning was that I could apparently help him with his eye since I'm a genius at robotics."

"But you are a genius."

"I am and I can't wait until I graduate college to work at N.E.S.T. so Que can take me under his wing and I can give him a hand and help him."

"You really wanna work there, huh?"

"Of course, their technology is much more advanced than ours. And that's the thing! Why would 'Hide, of all people, want the help of a human whose available technology is practical prehistoric compared to theirs?"

Mikaela chuckled. "Well, we're not talking about just any random human here, are we? We're talking about you, (Y/N). You Witwickys really have something on you that seems to bring alien robots to their knees."

Now, it was you who laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, first of all, there is Bumblebee, who hardly leaves your brother's side and always jumps when Sam calls his name. Sometimes, I feel like I'm the third wheel instead of a literal car."

"So?"

"I can still remember Ironhide aiming his guns at Sam and me when we first met him and the others and his way of talking to us. Let's just say, him taking the position as your guardian just like Bee did for Sam after what happened in Mission City is not something I expected."

You smiled.

Yeah, you remembered how your brother had explained to you — in his typical Sam-Witwicky-way, with frantic voice and agitated gestures — how his newly acquired car was a robot alien from another planet called Cybertron.

Being three years older than Sam, you were already in college and therefore could only visit your family on holidays. Unfortunately for him, you arrived home for your Spring Break the same day he encountered the Autobots who were looking for your great-great-grandfather's glasses.

Your parents greeted you with open arms and big smiles, asked you about your time at college, and informed you about the latest things happening in the neighborhood. You noticed your brother's absence, but they only told you that he had left a few hours ago. After dinner, when Sam didn't show up either, you sat down with a glass of wine in the living room, watching the news with your parents.

Just as the end of the world was being announced, you heard the roar of several engines and Sam's impatient voice.

Your dad apparently heard it, too, but you waved him off. "You can ground him later. Now I just want some good old brother-sister-time after months." You kissed his cheek, ignoring his grumbling.

You were excited seeing Sam after such a long time. Not that the two of you weren't in touch during the time you were away — the last time was a few days ago when he proudly told you about his new car — but it was a whole lot different talking to him in person.

You were just about to open the door leading to the garden when you almost ran into Sam.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed. To your surprise, his voice sounded almost panicky. "W-What, uhm, what are you doing… here?" He frantically looked over his shoulders.

You laughed, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "Good to see you, too, douchebag. Didn't miss me?"

"I- No. I mean, yes, of course I missed you. How, uh, how are you doing?"

"Sam, are you okay?" You asked, slightly concerned, straightening your posture.

"No, no. Yes, everything's fine. I just have to… There's something in my room that I need. Just stay here, I'm back in a minute." With that, he slipped past you and headed towards the stairs.

Laughing, you shook your head at his antics. Typical Sam.

"Great, but I'm going outside. Take your time."

Sam stopped dead in his tracks before spinning around just in time to see you disappear through the door. "Wait! (Y/N), wait!"

Stumbling, he ran after you.

Shit, shit, shit.

He came to a stop next to you when he saw you looking out into the garden with your hands on your hips.

"Uh, Sam? Does Dad know you're using his precious grass as a parking lot?"

Five cars were scattered across the lawn: a yellow Camaro with black rally stripes, a silver Pontiac Solstice, a yellow and green rescue vehicle, a blue and red semi-truck and, something that got your heart beating faster, a black GMC Topkick truck.

You absolutely loved that car. A 1 1/2 Ton vehicle powered by a 6.6L V-8 Duramax diesel, equipped with an Allison 1000 five-speed automatic, producing 300 hp and 520 lb-ft of torque.

Gorgeous was the first thing that came to your mind as you approached the truck. You traced the red GMC logo with your index and middle finger. While your dad was interested in expensive fancy cars, you were more into bigger ones. They might make you feel tiny, but you just loved being in control of such a bulky and powerful vehicle.

You reached for the hood and caressed the black paint. Without losing physical contact, you walked around the truck. The fingers of your right hand stroked the headlights, ran over the doors and tailgate, before you stood in front of the truck again.

"Aren't you just a beauty!" You smiled, still not letting go of the car. "Sam, I think I'm in love. He's so handsome."

"He is…? What?! (Y/N), please stop touching it… him!"

Facing the truck, you ran both hands over the edge of the hood, intending to open it to take a look inside. "Why? Jealous that a four-wheeled machine gets more attention from a girl than you?" You laughed.

The moment you opened the hood, something strange happened. One second you, felt the smooth surface of the black metal under your fingertips and the next, it suddenly disappeared as if the car had eluded your touch of its own volition.

Strange robotic noises around you filled your ears and suddenly a 22-foot tall robot was standing in front of you.

"You should buy me a drink before you're allowed to touch me there." A deep male voice sounded from above you.

Slowly, your eyes traveled from the metallic feet to the legs up to its torso and stopped at the face of the…

Yeah, you really couldn't find another word than "robot" to describe it. Well, judging by the voice, it was rather a he than an it.

You were speechless as you scrutinized his face. Like the rest of him, it was black and silver. You could recognize everything that you could also find in yourself — ears, chin, nose, jaw, even eyebrows. What particularly fascinated you were his eyes. Even though the left one was damaged, you could easily see that they were of a striking sky blue color, glowing brightly as they looked down at you.

"Great, absolutely great." Sam said next to you.

Only now did you realize that he wasn't the only robot in your garden. While your brother lost his shit, you looked from one metal giant to another.

"Hey, Sam?" You slowly said, your eyes fixed on the yellow one. "Isn't that your car?"

"Yes. Yes, it is." Sam groaned, "Okay, look. I have to find some glasses that belonged to our great-great-grandfather. They are in my bag in my room. Can you please, please, stay here and watch them?"

"Y-Yeah, sure."

"I will explain everything to you later." He hastily said and ran inside.

The silence that followed was awkward. I mean, what could you possibly do or say when your dream car just turned into a robot?

“(Y/N)!”

You spun around and saw Mikaela running towards you.

"You're seeing this too, right?" You asked as soon as she stopped next to you. "I'm not dreaming?"

"Nope." She shook her head.

You huffed a laugh. It was like a dream coming true.

You turned to the into-a-robot-turning-truck and asked, "Can I still take you up on your offer about that drink?"

"And like you said, our technology isn't as advanced as theirs. The only reason why he wanted to stay with you was, well, you. As far as I can tell, he took a liking to you." Mikaela said, interrupting your journey into the past and bringing you back to the present.

You scoffed, trying to ignore the fact that you were blushing. "The only Autobot I would trust to fall in love with a human is Bumblebee. 'Hide really is the last person, robot, or whatever, to care that much about humans."

"Again, not humans. You."

Huffing a laugh, you shook your head. "I really want to believe you because… well, the reason why I actually called you is… I…”

"Just spit it out!"

"IfuckingfingeredmyselfwhileIwasinsidehim!"

According to the look on her face she only understood half of it, but at the same time it was exactly the half that made you want to disappear into thin air. "Excuse me, what?"

You took a deep breath. "As soon as my teacher finishes the lesson I'm off and will go to the garage next to my apartment where 'Hide is. He then drives us to a field surrounded by forest. It's far from any civilization, and he can transform himself there in peace. Sometimes I take my books with me to work on my homework or whatever, but most of the time we talk, we spend time together."

You remember the times he actually sat next to you and worked with you on your homework. You were in awe of his intelligence, always looking up at him to listen to what he had to say.

"Anyways. Two days ago, he was driving me back to my apartment. I was just staring outside, lost in thought. I don't know what came over me because then I… I touched myself. There."

Since Mikaela could only stare at you, not finding an answer, you continued, "I'm madly in love with a robot that is also my car. I got horny when I started to fantasize about him while he was driving me home. I'm sorry, okay? I just couldn't stop myself. I was so pent up and I just needed a release."

"Oh my god."

You cringed. "I know. Call me weirdo for getting off to the thought of a weapon on legs, but I never came that fast in my life."

You watched as Mikaela shifted in her seat as she thought of the right words to say. "I'm not judging you if that's what you're worried about." She reassured you, "We are friends and we've known each other for a long time. I just didn't expect you to do something so bold while you're literally inside him, letting him drive you. There is like no way for him not to realize what you were doing."

"Even in the unlikely event that he hadn't by then, I'm sure he noticed when I screamed and moaned his name while clinging to my seat." You nonchalantly responded as you saw Mikaela's jaw drop.

"You…"

"Yes. I didn't even realize that he stopped at the side of the road. Luckily for me, because the second that blissful moment was over, I ran."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah, I know. It's so messed up."

"What happened then?"

"Well, I decided to just walk back to college. However, when it got darker, I got tired and I just had no energy left anymore. All I had to do was turn around and take a few steps towards him since he had followed me until then. I got back in and asked him to drive me back. He turned around because I seem to have been walking in the completely wrong direction the whole time." You shrugged. "We didn't talk about what happened during the drive. Actually, we didn't talk at all. The moment he stopped in front of my apartment door, I jumped out and sprinted up the stairs while he drove back to the garage by himself. Normally, I always take him there, but after… you know… I was so embarrassed."

During your monologue you'd been staring at your keyboard the whole time, but when you looked up you still didn't see any judgment or even disgust on your friend's face. She rather looked at you in a comforting and understanding manner.

"When you told me you needed to have a girl talk, I already expected some spicy details about a boy."

"Well, there's a mighty difference between some boy and someone like 'Hide."

"It's close enough for me. So what's your problem?"

"What's my… Have you listened to a word I just said?"

"I did, and I don't get it. You have a crush on him, maybe you're even in love with him. So what?"

"You seem to forget who and what he is and who and what I am. I'm just a weak, puny, pathetic human being. 'Hide is this giant, strong, powerful warrior who could care less about my feelings."

Mikaela scoffed and shook her head. "Stop putting yourself down. If you had listened to a word of what I said, you would have realized that a third and uninvolved party told you he's smitten with you."

You shook your head, not wanting to allow yourself to hope. "Why? Why did I have to fall in love with a huge robot alien? It would never work. Just one touch too hard on his part, and he could break my bones."

"He wouldn't do that."

"How would you know?"

"Because he already treats you like you're made out of glass. If you remember what happened in Mission City, you probably also remember all the Decepticons, the explosions and concrete parts of buildings that could have crushed you."

You nodded, a small smile creeping on your face.

Yeah, you remember all those things. You remember Ironhide in front of you, or next to you, or even above you, shielding you from any damage while you did your part to help, both human and Autobot. He didn't have to do it. Protecting your life was not the top priority, but Ironhide acted like it and stayed by your side as best as he could throughout the battle. Nobody even remotely did for Mikaela or Sam what Ironhide did for you during the Battle of Mission City.

You also remember falling off a building, the building with the statues that Lennox had sent you and Sam to with the AllSpark in your hands. You remember how scared you were, fearing to hit the ground, but the impact never came. Instead you felt large fingers closing around your body and you heard a rough voice saying, "I've got you, little one."

Mikaela watched your realization with a fond smile. She knew what it was like when people judged you because your knowledge about something was bigger than theirs. That's how you bonded. She knew her way around cars, you were talented in programming and engineering.

Yes, it was kind of weird, but at the same time, it was also poetic. Your heart had always been with machines and as long as she knew you, that was your passion.

What a stroke of luck that someone just like that had fallen for you, Mikaela thought.

"I would suggest that you just talk to him. How bad can it go?"

"Oh, I don't know. Total humiliation? It's one thing to confess your crush to some guy, but to confess it to someone like 'Hide?"

Mikaela laughed. "I'm sure you'll find a way. You wouldn't be the first person who is completely infatuated with their car."