#i used to think i could be in a relationship but i swear to god if THIS is what thats like i'm going aromantic idc
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zepskies · 9 hours ago
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Lost in Translation
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader
Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you? 
AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.
This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!
Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”
Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.
Word Count: 3.4K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair. 
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The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.
You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.
Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.
Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.
A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.
Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.
What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too! 
“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.
Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?
Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.
Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.
Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil. 
You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.
Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to— 
“Morning, sweetheart.”
Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.
He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.
“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile. 
Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…
“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”
Your spine tightened once again.
“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.
“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”
You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”
Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.
If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.
“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.
“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”
His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.
“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.
Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.
Not in a good way.
Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.
He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.
“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.
His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”
His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.
“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”
Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.
“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”
You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.
“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”
"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"
You narrowed your eyes right back at him.
"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"
His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.
Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.
“Fine,” he said.
Your brows rose. “Fine?”
“Yeah,” he said flatly.
You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.
“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.
“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.
Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.
“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”
“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.
His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.
“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”
You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.
But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.
While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.
“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.
Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.
There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.
You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe. 
“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”
He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.  
Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.
You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.
“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.
You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.
…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.
And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.
Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.
There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.
“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.
The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.
You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.
You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”
Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.
He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.
“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.  
“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.
He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.
“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.
“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.
“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.
Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.
For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.
And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new. 
He was right, damn him.
The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.
His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.
He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.
You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.
“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.
You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”
He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”
You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.
“Shower first,” you stipulated.
You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”
You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.      
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AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚
Spanish Translations:
Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.
It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.
However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂
Sabes que, …
You know what, …
La sirvienta
The servant (or maid) (female)
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blueishspace · 2 days ago
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Hero Villain God Bonus 1
(Prev) (Next) (First)
✨Hotguy answers the internet's most asked questions.✨
*The video opens to Hotguy in hero outfit sitting on a chair in a white room, he waves at the camera*
"Hello people! Hotguy here and this is my autocomplete interview!"
*Intro music*
"I'm dyslexic so I don't know how well reading is going to go"
[What Hotguy]
"What is... Hotguy's real name? Oh I'm sorry but you aren't going to find that on the internet! It's very confidential. I have seen a few interesting theories about it though"
*Hotguy has a pensive expression*
"For example, I heard people say I'm secretly Mayor Ren. It's kind of funny even if completely wrong. Next!"
"What is Hotguy's age? Uh, you guys are really curious about me...hence this whole thing, I'm flattered. You know, there is this site that said that I'm in my late fourties! Can you believe it friends? My fourties! I don't look that old do I?"
*The hand of the cameraman appears to do a so-so motion, Hotguy gasps*
"How dare you! I'll have you know I'm not fourty or worse...fifty"
"What is Hotguy's favorite colour? Orange of course! Next question!"
*Hotguy very dramatically reveals the next one*
"What is Hotguy's net worth?"
..."I don't even know Hotguy's net worth and I'm him"
*Hotguy giggles*
"To be honest, my manager helps me with that kind of stuff. They're totally awesome."
"What shampoo does Hotguy use? Oh you like my hair, do you? Well, I like caramel or oh oh! Maple syrup scented shampoo, really nice sweet smell. It was actually gifted to me first by the number 5 hero Tay and I liked it so much I kept buying it."
"What is Hotguy's personality type? I uh never done a test for that, my manager said it would be dumb so I never done it... Maybe I could do it in the future! What do you civilians think?"
[Did Hotguy?]
"Oh no, what did I do? I'm getting worried"
*He anxiously reveals the first one*
"Did Hotguy... Fire his pr team? Who is asking this? No! I did not do anything of the sort, I'll have you know that my pr team is having a great time... What's with that face mr. Camera man?"
*Cut to the next question*
"Did Hotguy kiss... Really? ... Did Hotguy kiss Mother Spore? I very much did not, she almost killed me in fact. I don't know where you guys got the idea that I'm in a relationship with her...moving on-"
"Did Hotguy go to school? Well, I did of course, got a degree too! It was around that time that the Hero association first scouted me actually. It's also when my manager actually became...well, my manager, it was a really busy time for me!"
[When Hotguy]
"Let's see, when did Hotguy appear? Oh! You mean my first public appearance? That must have been a while ago actually, 7 or maybe 8 years ago now? I'm not quite sure to be honest!"
*He puts his hand on his chin in thought before smiling*
"These last few years have been great haven't they? And now with my new sidekick entering the scene the next few are going to be even better!"
"When Hotguy merch? Oh, you can expect new merch coming soon! I have so much I want to say about it but I don't want to spoil the surprise! Just know that it's going to be amazing!"
*Wink*
*There is some noise from behind the camera*
"Oh right! Onto the next question!"
"When did Hotguy fight Poultryman? ... That guy sure is an headache, he's following me even here, never going be free of him I swear. It was around a month ago that I fought him for the first time, of course one failure wasn't enough to stop me! I'm still onto him!"
*He stands up as he says it before remembering where he is and sitting down*
[Who Hotguy]
"Who is Hotguy? Just the top hero in the country of course! I guess people outside of Hermmittopia might not know me as much as they do those who live here... "
"Who was Hotguy's first villain? Oh that I do remember, I think it was Midas... It was Midas right? ... Yeah. A really nasty guy with the power of turning things to gold. Of course I catched him and is now somewhere where he can't hurt anyone. Catching him was hard but I manget- ...managed, sorry, to assault his back-"
*❌ Sound*
"I managed to take him from behind -"
*❌ Sound*
"I managed to... Surprise attack him?"
*✅ Sound*
"Who is Hotguy's PR team... Again? You know what, I'm not answering this one again"
"Who is Hotguy's manager? Oh! I can't reveal their name but they're great, probably the smartest person I know! They're a scientist though, so I guess it makes sense that they would know so much!"
[Is Hotguy?]
"Is Hotguy hot? Sure am, It's in the name for a reason friends! Look at these muscles!"
*Hotguy flexes in front of the camera*
"Using a bow as much as I do will do that for you, requires a lot more strenght then people think."
"Is Hotguy... single? I am, saving the city is a lot of work so I don't really have time to date anyone... I know, so many fans must be heartbroken but don't be sad! If you are interested in love then I'm sure you'll find someone ... Or someones perfect for you!"
"Is Hotguy gay?"
...
"I'm pansexual, It's a very different thing. Moving on!"
[Where Hotguy?]
"Where was Hotguy born? Here in Hermmittopia actually, born and raised here! I know it may sound unbeliavable but it's true"
"Last but not least... Where does Hotguy live? I'm uh I really can't say my adress friend! Especially somewhere a villain might be able to see! Sorry!"
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insomniac4000 · 2 days ago
Note
141-George Clarke
Your lipstick’s everywhere! George Clarke
Georges flat was usually chaotic with three content creators living together and a couple more being very frequent visitors, but tonight it was unusually quiet. Chris and Arthur were out filming, leaving George to relax in the kitchen with Aimee. She sat on the countertop, her laughter filling the space as George teased her about her inability to peel a clove of garlic without making a mess.
“I’m telling you, it’s an art form,” he said, waving the peeler like a wand.
“Oh, please,” Aimee replied, rolling her eyes. “Let’s not pretend you’re a culinary genius. Before I came along you were Deliveroo's best customer!”
George grinned. “I’m not pretending. I am a culinary genius.”
Their friendship had been the foundation of their relationship. For months, George and Aimee had danced around their feelings, but a few weeks ago, it had shifted. Aimee’s hand brushing his during a late-night movie session turned into a kiss, and from there, something undeniable had begun.
Now, in the soft glow of the kitchen lights, the air between them was thick with unspoken warmth.
“Alright,” George said, placing the orange slices in a bowl. “Masterpiece complete. You’re welcome.”
Aimee leaned forward, plucking a slice. “Thank you, oh great chef.”
Her playful sarcasm was cut short as George moved closer, standing between her knees. His hands rested on the counter on either side of her, and for a moment, neither spoke.
“You know,” George said softly, “we could just tell them.”
Aimee raised an eyebrow. “Chris and Arthur? You really think that’s a good idea?”
“They’re going to figure it out eventually,” George replied.
“True, but I’d rather not have them gloating about being right this early. Besides, I like having you as my little secret,” she teased, poking his chest.
George laughed. “Fair enough.”
He tilted his head upwards, and Aimee leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that quickly deepened. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the rest of the world melted away with her on the counter top still asserting dominance.
Neither of them heard the front door open.
Chris strolled into the flat, Arthur following behind, both mid-conversation with Arthur trying to convince Chris to do another TikTok to promote his new song.
“I just keep making a complete tit out of myself, what the—” Chris stopped abruptly in the kitchen doorway, his eyes widening. Arthur nearly bumped into him before looking over his shoulder.
“Oh, my God,” Arthur muttered, blinking at the scene before them.
George and Aimee sprang apart like teenagers caught sneaking out. Aimee’s cheeks flushed crimson, and George’s ears turned a matching shade.
“Uh, hey, guys,” George said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Chris raised an eyebrow, arms crossing. “Hey? Hey?” he repeated, his voice dripping with mock incredulity. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” Aimee blurted.
“Oh, it’s not?” Arthur asked, smirking. “Because it looks like you two were very...friendly.”
“Guys, seriously,” George said, stepping forward in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
Chris tilted his head, studying George. Then, with a grin, he pointed. “Mate, your face.”
“What?” George asked, frowning.
Chris chuckled and pointed to Aimee. “Your lipstick is everywhere.”
George’s hand shot to his face, wiping at his cheeks, chin, and mouth. Aimee groaned, burying her face in her hands.
“Subtle,” Arthur quipped, leaning against the doorframe.
“Alright, fine!” George exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “We’ve been seeing each other. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” Chris replied, his grin stretching wider. “I mean, this is amazing material.”
Aimee glared at him. “If you post anything about this online, I swear—”
“Relax,” Chris said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Your secret’s safe with us. For now.”
Arthur snickered. “But seriously, how long has this been going on?”
George sighed, sitting at the kitchen table. “A few weeks.”
“A few weeks?” Chris exclaimed. “And you didn’t tell us? We live together!”
“We wanted to keep it low-key,” Aimee explained. “No drama, no teasing.”
Chris feigned offense. “Tease? Us? Never.”
“Sure,” Aimee said dryly. “Because you’re known for being so mature.”
Arthur laughed. “She’s got you there, mate.”
George leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Can we drop it now?”
Chris and Arthur exchanged looks before nodding—though their smirks suggested the teasing wasn’t over.
“So,” Chris began, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite George. “When’s the wedding?”
Aimee groaned. “I’m going home.”
“Don’t run away,” Arthur said, stepping aside to let her pass. “We’re just getting started!”
She shot him a mock glare before heading to the door. George stood, grabbing her jacket from the hook.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Chris and Arthur exchanged a look.
“Well,” Arthur said, “that was unexpected.”
Chris leaned back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. “Oh, it’s expected now. We’re never letting him live this down.”
Outside, George and Aimee lingered by her car.
“I told you this would happen,” Aimee said, laughing softly.
“Yeah, yeah,” George replied, smiling. “But it’s kind of a relief, isn’t it? No more sneaking around.”
She tilted her head. “True. But now we have to deal with their constant commentary.”
George shrugged. “We’ll survive.”
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.
“And besides,” he added, “you’re worth it.”
Aimee smiled, resting her forehead against his. “You’re lucky I like you, Clarke.”
“Oh, I know,” he replied, grinning.
As they parted ways, George returned to the flat, bracing himself for whatever Chris and Arthur had planned.
But as he stepped back into the kitchen, he found them surprisingly quiet.
“Alright,” Chris said, gesturing for George to sit. “We’ve decided to take it easy on you.”
“Really?” George asked skeptically.
“Sure,” Arthur said. “For now.”
George sighed, slumping into his chair. “Thanks, I guess.”
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cinnabeat · 3 months ago
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this is completely out of nowhere but i think i will be old and gray and it will be pkmn gen 79 and i will still be sitting there in my probable rocking chair saying "oh i cant wait until they make a pokemon special anime"
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talkorsomething · 1 month ago
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I'm already in bed and its not even 11 yet and I slept in this morning. I hate the tv
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months ago
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141 with a partner who likes to bite
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Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes
Word Count: 800
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"
John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.
"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."
The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.
Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.
Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.
"Stop."
He nips at your throat.
"Fucking."
Then he nips at your shoulder.
"Biting."
Finally, John nips at your upper arm.
"Me."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."
You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.
“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.
Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.
Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”
You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”
Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.
"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.
“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.
He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”
“Can’t help it,” you mutter.
“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.
“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”
“Kyle.”
“Mean bite.”
“I swear to God, Kyle.”
“A—”
You place your hand over his mouth.
John "Soap" MacTavish
With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.
Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.
A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.
What’s one little bite?
It won’t hurt.
Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.
Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.
One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.
You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.
“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.
“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.
"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.
“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.
A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.
Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.
But you lose.
Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.
“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.
"I didn't bite," you mutter.
Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.
He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."
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cl-0v3r · 20 days ago
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Mel is alive, but at what cost
Mel was nearly killed TWICE, her mother began being a struggle, she'd been thrown aside and trying her best to stop her, her boyfriend is not doing well, neither is anyone else (can't blame them) and the fact that she hadn't cried or spoke much about this situation to anyone a single time?? She IS upset about every single thing, yet she stays strong and enduring every bit of torture. The most she did was tell Jayce that Ambessa put her palm on the table, and let him know that she is going to push for hextech. That's it, nothing remotely related to her feelings.
The fact that she was constantly looking at Caitlyn, being able to understand her grief and knew she was in pain?? Mel knows this feeling. She'd went through it.
And in the end SHE has to pay the price of her mothers incompetence.
The intro is very much foreshadowing, we know the hands represent black rose/LeBlanc.
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This is what happens in act one, she gets kidnapped by them. The lyrics do correspond to the characters as well (not just Mel, everyone.)
"Tell you you're the greatest" plays as a petal of the black rose floats down the screen, I think it adds significance to the power this organization holds, possibly the Medardas greatest foe.
"But once you turn, they hate us" both Ambessa and Mel were present in this line, I think its foreshadowing for when Ambessa switches up for whatever reason and goes against both Piltover AND Zaun. And Mel WILL go through change as well, a change that could hurt her relationship with others, and receive interest from others too.
"They hate us" could be read individually too, I feel like its a sort of "realization" ?? Perhaps Ambessa WASN'T the one that switched up, maybe Piltover switched up on them, and maybe Mel JUST got out of wherever she's taken to, and saw the mess Ambessa had done to her city??
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I think this represents ACT TWO.
The hands pull away and it sort of looks like Mel is fighting back, a "get away from me" type of scream. you know what this reminds me of??
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Don't mind me just pushing my Jinx/powder-Mel parallel agenda
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Here is when i think Mel truly learns about LeBlanc/BR, she curiously and slowly goes to grab the rose, she learns about the history between her Mother and them, Kinos death, and most of all, learns about HERSELF. The lyrics speak otherwise.
"Pray away, I swear
I'll never be a saint, no way"
This feels like a parallel to caitlyn of sorts if that makes sense. Caitlyn had done everything to try and stop the council from attacking the Undercity, she kept her mouth shut when Jayce asked about Jinxs grenade, she was willing to protect Vi and the undercity, but how many times has she been tossed around? She'd been burned, exploded, kidnapped (god knows what happened during that time) and hit in the face by the same person, her MOTHER died because of the same person. She has every right to go insane. And she is hunting ONE person, which is Jinx. Although she is harming the people around her along the way.
What if Mel goes through a similar situation? Her mother pushed for war in her city, she dragged the enemy along with her even if she didn't mean to, she manipulated everyone around her INCLUDING Jayce, she LITERALLY got Mel hurt from the chembarons attack and killed so many people during a MEMORIAL to get her hextech weapons, Elora is most likely DEAD, not to mention whatever happened in the past between them. And the thing is, this will NEVER end throughout the entire season.
And what if she learns what she is? That she's 'blessed' by Kindred? The fact that the wolf is quite literally in her blood?
I feel like the "ill never be a saint, no way" also sort of indicates Mel will realize she'll never be able to push for peace and mercy like she always hoped for no matter what, and she comes to accept that as much as it hurts. But not like how ambessa accepted the wolf, but she sort of realizes she needs to push a little violence, towards nobody but the one and only, Ambessa "fine, if you want me to be like you, I guess I'll be like you towards YOU." Type of acceptance.
I think its also related to Mels new outfit too, she's dressed like her mother, in red and all of that. I will still stand by the idea that she has plans to decieve, but she will do something she doesn't want to do.
Mel was left with no choice, that lyric sounds like realization, acceptance, but also like a plea at the same time, an "I'll never be who I wanted to be" because in the end, she's still a Medarda, she's still her mothers daughter, she still has violence in her veins, she will never not suffer from the weight her name holds, and she will never escape it either, its like a shadow.
The Characters won't be themselves at their core this season. And those vital parts of their characters that represent them are no longer there in the intro, they all have given up what makes them, THEM design wise. (e.g.) Vi without her tattoo, Viktor hiding his identity with the mask. And the thing is, they did that to themselves because they do self-harm, they're changing themselves because THEY want to, they're forcing themselves to do that, they think they're undeserving and they're erasing their past selves.
But Mel? Mel doesn't have her gold accessories, Jewelry, or her Armor, she'd been stripped bare and hidden away because of the brutality of her name. She pays the price her mother brought to HER city. She's forced to change herself against her will, because nobody is giving her a chance to push for her ideals.
This entire theory never ends, and with all of this? I kinda do see Mel actually committing Matricide, it lifts the "Ambessa will die" theory further.
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a-b-riddle · 7 months ago
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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jyoongim · 10 months ago
Note
Hear me out. I can't be the only one that wants to fuck Al's demon form. Like not just the black eyed tentacle gig, I'm talking full form like the size and all 😭 I can take it I swear, Al (narrator: she could not)
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Title: A Reminder To All…
Themes: its giving monster fuc but like oof, demon!form Alastor, tentacles, established relationship, rough sex, growling, blood, possessive behavior, antlers, animalistic behaviors.
It was a rather quiet afternoon at the Hazbin Hotel.
You were up in the radio tower straightening a few things while Alastor was out doing gods know what 
You decided that since you had cleaned up most of the place that you would take a stroll through town as some down time.
You hummed a tune as you passed many sinners out and about. Your stroll led pass the digital shop. You slowed as you noticed a crowd gathered outside a Voxtech store.
There were multiple tvs playing things in the windows and what caught your attention was the deals they had going on.
You bit your lip. Oh it couldnt hurt to window shop right?
You entered and was immediately overwhelmed by all the fancy tech.
why did hell need modern tech you had no idea.
A shiny pink camera caught your attention.
And it was cheap.
You did need a new camera. It would help with advertisement and to show the progress of the hotel you thought as you happily paid for it and went about your way.
what you didn’t know was that Vox had been tracking you the moment you left the hotel.
that camera of yours was now his gateway into seeing what Alastor was up to.
Once back at the hotel you pulled out your shiny new purchase.
you turned it on and walked around filming a bit.
You checking the footage to check out the quality when you heard a record scratch
”what is that my dear?” 
You jumped at the sound of Alastor’s voice and spun around holding the camera
His eyes narrowed on it and quirked his brow at you, airing for an explanation.
”Well Al I-I just thought that the hotel could use a camera to help with promoting. We can record our progress. Now you don’t have to do all the work.” You said with a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t toss it.
He walked closer to you, mainly keeping his eyes on the tech.
”and where did you get such a frivolous thing?” 
you gulped “At the v-voxtech store”
His ever-present smile tightened before he shrugged “fine if you think it’ll help”
you breathed a sigh of relief and happily went about your way testing it out.
Unaware of the growing shadows emitting from him.
after spending a few hours getting the hang of your new device, you decided to call it a night and put your camera on your nightstand as you got ready for bed.
You shivered slightly under your cover, grumbling you furrowed further to seek some warmth.
why the hell was it so cold?
you shifted again in bed to feel a heavy weight on top of you.
your eyes flew open and you were met with a very frightening sight.
Alastor.
In his demon form.
Your breath got caught in your throat “A-Al?”
He tilted his head, smile wide and sharp “Sleeping well my dear?” His voice was staticky and distorted.
you were so confused.
you hardly EVER saw Alastor upset, especially to the point were he was in his demon form.
“Why is that in your room dear?” He hissed out, jutting his chin to your camera.
You tilted your head confused at his question.
he was angry about a damn camera?
A clawed hand was at your throat.
”I allow many things dear, but this unattractive piece of scrap in your room? That is where I draw the line”
You let out a squeak as your clothes suddenly disappeared and covers ripped away.
”A-Al?!”
Your hands were quickly restrained by his shadows and your legs were spreaded to welcome him closer.
when the hell did he undress?
You felt the faint ghost touch of a tentacle slide against your cunt, teasing your clit. You let out a soft moan.
”Already soaking dearest?” He hummed amused.
You felt the weight of his dick slap against your cunt.
your eyes widened he wasn’t going to…
”Alastor w-wait! I c-can’t!”
A long tongue sweated the side of your face
”But you will darling” and with that he slammed into you.
Your body seized at the sudden intrusion. You let out a cry that was silenced by a tentacle wrapping around your mouth.
Alastor rutted into you, growling and snarling.
Your eyes faintly drifted to the camera by your bed.
A blinking red dot turned on and off.
Alastor gave you a rather harsh thrust.
”eyes on me dear”
you whined loudly, trying to shift your body to accommodate to his harsh thrusting. Your eyes drifted to the top of his head.
Antlers.
you felt your fingers itch with the need to find purchase on them.
you gave a tug at the shadows and huffed, making little grabbing motions hoping he would get the hint.
he granted you grace and your hands immediately flew to his antlers.
He let outa low growl and sunk his teeth into your shoulder.
With his dick hitting that delious spot inside you, you could feel him bottoming out.
You were flipped onto your stomach, facing the camera.
the shadow around your mouth disappeared and a claw hand found your tongue.
”put on a show Mon cher” You felt him flush against you.
Moans and whines filled the room as he  pounded your cunt.
A high pitch whine left your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him.
you were gonna cum soon.
”A-Al-la-stor Ah!” Your eyes crossed as your body tensed and twitched from your orgasm. He let out a deep growl and quickened his pace.
Did he get bigger?
you were suddenly face to face with him.
Your noses brushing against each other as he sought after his own release.
Your arms wrapped around his elongated neck and a hand found one of his ears.
you tugged.
Static ran through your body as he slapped his lips on yours and slammed his hips into you, purring as he filled you with his cum.
you whimpered as your legs were finally released and dropped.
Alastor was breathing heavy as he reached over to the camera
”hope you enjoyed the show old pal” he laughed before destroying the camera.
you were drifting to sleep as you watched him transform back to normal.
”sleep well my dear” was the last thing you heard as he tucked you into his side, humming a soft tune with a wide smile.
He gave a reminder.
Dont fuck with the Radio Demon.
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vroomvro0mferrari · 3 months ago
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LN4 | Happy Anniversary!
Summary: When Lando forgets the date of your anniversary, you can get over it. However, the pressure of his job isn’t a good enough reason to excuse all of his forgetful tendencies and lack of attention for you.
Lando Norris x fem!Reader, established relationship
WC: 4.8K
Warnings: cursing, angsty, sad fic with happy ending
Masterlist
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The soft morning sunlight peeks through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft rosy glow over the room. You take a deep breath, a gentle smile settling on your face at the realisation that it’s already been a year – a year of being loved, of sharing every thought and story, of new experiences and memories... One year of being married to the love of your life. It’s hard to believe.
You turn on your side to face your husband, propping your head on your palm as you watch him sleep peacefully. Your hand is softly stroking his chest while you smile with adoration. “Good morning, baby,” you say when you notice the change in his breathing.
Lando merely grumbles, not quite awake yet. Nevertheless, he pulls you closer to his side, letting you cuddle up against his warm body. Pressing your face against his chest, you leave a few kisses along the bare skin.
Lando sighs, stretching out his body. “Good morning, darling,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You smile excitedly, sitting up to look at the handsome man you get to call your husband.
“Do you know what day it is?” You whisper.
Lando frowns as he wipes his tired eyes, “What day?” 
The confusion is evident in his voice. Regardless, you nod excitedly. Your smile falters as you watch the wheels turning in his head, gathering that he doesn’t remember. You move to the bedside table, rumbling through the drawer until you find what you’re searching for.
The expression on Lando’s face changes from confusion to guilt when you proudly show the present you’ve wrapped up so neatly, the realisation settling in. “Fuck. It’s our anniversary today, isn’t it?”
You nod, “I got you a little something, to celebrate,” you clarify. The smile on your face is gentle, comforting, and it nearly makes Lando believe you don’t care that he forgot.
“Oh, baby, I’m really sorry. I can’t believe I forgot our anniversary. God, that’s bad, isn’t it? The first year, and I’ve already screwed it up. I’m so sorry, love. Fuck.” Lando rubs a hand over his face, his expression pained.
“It’s okay, Lan. I know you’ve been busy,” you reassure him, “besides, it’s only the first year, we’ll have many more anniversaries.” You offer your gift again. “Just open the present, please? I want to know what you think of it!” You say enthusiastically.
Lando’s not fully convinced yet, “But I haven’t got anything for you,” he protests.
“Doesn’t matter, I already got this for you. Open, please!”
Lando sighs, but doesn’t resist further. However, the guilt of his forgetfulness settles deeper when he opens the carefully wrapped gift. You had taken the time and effort to make something, rather than buy a present, and he couldn’t even bother to remember your first wedding anniversary. He felt like an asshole.
At his silence, you felt the need to explain, “It’s a jar of notes,” you take the jar from his hands and open it. “It’s got different things: my favourite memories of us, things I love about you, what reminds me of you, just whatever I could think of. Then, when you’re gone for work, you can pull one out whenever you miss me,” you demonstrate, grabbing a note from the full jar, “or you could just call me, or whatever.” You put the piece of paper back, close the jar, and look up to your husband.
“Do you like it?”
Lando smiles lovingly, “I love it! Thank you, baby. I love you,” he says before kissing you softly.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t get you anything. I swear I’ll make it up to you. In fact, I’ll make a reservation for tonight right now, we can go out to dinner together to celebrate, and if you want we can go shopping today too, I’ll buy you anything you want—” 
You cut him off with a laugh. “That’s not necessary, Lan. I know you love me. Besides, I’d much prefer to spend today at home with you, while you’re still here,” you say, stroking his face fondly before you pull him in for a kiss.
Regardless of your objections, Lando still manages to make a reservation for tonight at your favourite restaurant. He doesn’t make a single comment when you order the salmon despite his dislike for fish, and for weeks after he anticipates every single need you might have before you can utter even a syllable. He brings you the snacks he knows you love most on his way home, makes homecooked meals for you (however bad at cooking he is – he switched to take away after the first two times), and watches your favourite shows with you even though he hates them. He does anything and everything he can think of to make you feel loved and appreciated.
Unfortunately, his efforts only lasted a few weeks. Now, you knew what you were getting into when you married Lando last year. You had been in a relationship with him for several years before the wedding, so you are well aware of the time he needs to put into his work, even outside of office hours, not to mention the amount of stress and anxiety that come with racing at such a high level. That’s why it doesn’t bother you that much that your husband forgot about your anniversary; you know the pressure he’s under.
However, lately, his work has become even more time-consuming, more stressful and he’s become less attentive. It’s no surprise with how well the last races have been going – Lando’s finishing on the podium every weekend – that pressures have increased. He’s no longer fighting for only the constructor’s championship, but he has an actual chance at the driver’s championship too. The team is excited, and working hard, and the same is expected of Lando. Additionally, the fans have been putting more pressure. You know how much Lando’s affected by the stress of it all; he doesn’t want to disappoint, and now that the car’s performing, the only factor that could cause a loss, is him. The pressure, stress, and anxiety are taking over his body. He’s becoming more forgetful and instead of spending his free time with you, his wife, he’s thinking about the next race’s strategy, working out to improve his performance, or practising the tracks. Formula 1 had taken over the number one spot in his life.
You get where he’s coming from, you really do, but one of the most important things, if not the most important thing, in a relationship is communication and recently, Lando wasn’t communicating with you. He doesn’t tell you about the pressure or anxiety, all you know is from reading the man. After the number of years you’d spent together, you know him well enough to be aware of his struggles without him having to tell you.
You’d address the issue, ask him to talk to you, but you don’t when. Lando’s gone so much that you barely see him. His early mornings and early nights don’t align with your schedule; Lando’s gone before you’re properly up and has already eaten when you get home from work. The both of you have always been busy before, but at least you’d always eat together, and talk about your day. Now that those moments are missing, you feel lonely.
Lando has no clue of the things running through your mind. After all, you never told him. Even during the summer break, you keep quiet about your feelings, not wanting it to affect Lando’s performance during the races when you know how hard he's working to do well. Besides, it does get better during the break; Lando’s home more often and his mind's not as occupied with thoughts about his work. Nevertheless, he’s gone most of the time. You had expected for Lando to spend his time off with you, but instead, he hangs out with his friends.
Although the break has positively affected his behaviour, Lando's forgetfulness remains the same. You had told him about your friend’s birthday party several times during the past weeks, asking him to come along. When he promised you would, you thought things were finally going back to normal. But now, as you are waiting for your husband to come home so you can leave for the party together, you realise nothing has changed.
It’s already quarter past eight. Fifteen minutes later than you had said you would leave. You are ready to go – makeup glowing, favourite dress on, present wrapped and purse checked – when you decide you won’t wait any longer. You had given Lando plenty of chances to show his care for you and to consider you in his plans. You always visited his friends with him when he wanted you to, and he couldn’t show up for one party you asked him to come to? You leave the house, no messages sent and your phone on do-not-disturb: let him worry.
You plaster a fake smile on your face when you arrive to your friend’s house, pulling her into a hug when she opens the door. 
“Hey, girl! Happy birthday!” You say in a high-pitched voice. “I can’t believe you’re finally 25!” You continue, squeezing her tight.
“Thanks, babe,” she responds when you let each other go, looking over your shoulder. “Where’s Lando? Parking the car?”
“Uh, no, actually. He couldn’t come.” The awkward smile on your face says enough, she knows not to ask any further.
“Oh, okay. That’s too bad. I would have loved to see him. You know, congratulate him on his podiums, it’s been going well lately, no?” She walks you into the house as she speaks, turning her head to watch your reaction.
“Yeah, the team’s really improved.” Once again, the tight smile on your face is clear.
A frown forms on her face at your reaction and she’s about to ask further, whether everything is okay, when she’s interrupted.
“Hey, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a while! How are you? You never come to the races anymore,” Carlos tells you with a fake pout.
You look at him in surprise. You always forget that everyone in Monaco knows each other. Carlos and your friend met at the golf club and had somehow become good friends. Usually, you liked seeing him, but tonight you would’ve preferred not to see him. Not because you don’t enjoy his company, but simply because you’d rather not talk about Lando, whom he’ll undoubtedly ask about.
And so, your mask shoots up when he pulls you into a hug. “Hey, Carlos. I’m good. How’ve you been doing?”
“I’ve been doing well. You heard the news? That I’m going to Williams next year?” You nod, saying a quick “Of course, congrats!” Naturally, you heard the news; everyone had. But this conversation was already heading in the wrong direction. “Yes, glad to have found a place that will appreciate me, even if the team’s not doing the best right now. Talking about the best, Lando’s been doing so well. You must be proud of him, hm?” 
“Ah, yes, of course,” you say indifferently.
Carlos frowns at your reaction. “Everything good between you two?”
Your smile drops, apparently, you aren’t as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. “Yeah, everything is fine. Why do you ask?”
Carlos shrugs, “Just the way you react, is all. You seem kind of tense…”
You sigh, letting a silence fall for a few seconds. You might as well tell him, he’ll figure it out eventually. “You’re right. Things… haven’t been so great lately.”
Carlos frowns at your comment. “Between you and Lando, you mean? He didn’t say anything was up, he seemed fine the last time I spoke to him,” he says confusedly.
You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “I’m not surprised. He seems to be clueless to what’s been going on.”
Carlos takes a sip of his drink, “Have you talked to him about it?”
“That’s the issue. Lando’s never home, we barely speak anymore. He’s been so stressed with work that nearly all his free time is dedicated to racing. He gets up early and goes to bed before I’ve even had dinner. I’ve had no chance to talk to him.”
The frown deepens, and he breathes out a puff of air. “That’s tough.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting this on you.”
“No, it’s fine don’t worry about it. Sometimes you need to get it off your chest.”
You look up at Carlos, hesitating to continue your story.
“Has the break not changed anything?” He pokes further.
Another sigh. “No, not really. Lando’s using his time off to catch up with his friends. And his forgetfulness has clearly not improved either.” 
“His forgetfulness?”
“Yeah, he forgot about the party, clearly.” You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes again.
“What else did he forget about?” Carlos asks with a frown.
“I don’t know if I should tell you,” you hesitate, “but he forgot our anniversary. I told him it’s not a big deal, which it isn’t, but it’s just that everything is adding up. I feel kind of alone in the relationship at the moment, like he doesn’t really care about me anymore. How can I think otherwise, when we barely see each other, let alone speak?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. That really sucks.” 
You smile sadly, as if to say ‘it is what it is’.
“It’ll work out in the end,” you tell him. You hope. “Maybe tonight he’ll realise he forgot something important, again. Maybe that’ll make a difference.” You offer an awkward smile.
Carlos breathes in deeply, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get your mind off it, huh?” he says while directing you towards the fridge.
You nod, follow him, and accept the drink he offers you. Tonight is not about Lando, it’s about your best friend and the fact she turned 25. You are not thinking about your husband until you get home.
– – – – – 
You slam the front door of your shared apartment louder than necessary when you enter. Nevertheless, there’s no reaction when you enter the dark apartment. You switch the lights on, noticing Lando isn’t in the living room or kitchen. Did he really go to sleep not knowing where you were or who you were with? Whether you were safe or not? Lando obviously didn’t remember the birthday party or he would’ve come, yet he didn’t text you to ask you where you were? Does he truly care so little about you? Does he even love you anymore? It feels like a punch to the gut – like someone had ripped your heart out. 
The man had been basically avoiding you for weeks, barely saying a word at the moments you did see him, but at least he was still awake to see if you arrived okay. Now he doesn't even stay up to check if you get home safely anymore? Or text you to ask where you are? To say you are upset is an understatement, you feel angry and neglected at his disregard. You feel lonely instead of beloved. The lump in your throat is a painful reminder of how close you are to crying. But you don’t. 
You swallow the lump, blink a few times to get rid of the lingering tears in your eyes and go into the bedroom to take off your makeup. You lean on the counter, sniffling silently, and close your eyes. You breathe in through your nose deeply, before breathing out through your mouth. It’ll be okay. Right? 
When you enter the bedroom you stare for a minute at the man sleeping peacefully before you. It feels wrong when you climb into bed next to him, nevertheless, you do it. It’ll probably take you a while to fall asleep tonight. 
– – – – –
The situation hasn’t changed a bit when the racing season starts back up again. No matter how strained your relationship has become, you do want to say goodbye to Lando before he leaves for the next race. So, the morning he’s supposed to fly, you make sure to get up extra early. You don’t know how, but he still somehow manages to finish his breakfast before you’re even out of bed, the container already in the trash.
“Good morning,” you mumble, wiping your eyes as they adjust to the bright light in the kitchen.
Lando looks up from his phone in surprise, clearly not expecting to see you awake this early. “Hey, what are you doing up?” He asks in a soft voice.
“Wanted to say goodbye,” you say as you walk closer to the kitchen island at which he’s sitting.
“There’s no need for that, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon enough.” The smile on his face is sickeningly sweet, a clear contrast to the words coming out of his mouth.
You frown, “You’re leaving for a week… What do you mean, there’s no need?”
Lando sighs at your question, “Never mind, it’s kind of you to get up extra early just for me,” he smiles dismissively before getting up from his seat. “It’s time for me to go,” he says looking at his watch before grabbing his backpack and suitcase which are sitting by the door, “I’ll see you in a week.”
You’re left staring in surprise as the door slams closed. He didn’t kiss you goodbye. He always did that, even during the worst of fights. That’s your rule. Formula 1 is a dangerous sport, he could be hurt in a split second, never mind being killed. From the start of your relationship, he always kissed you before he left, just in case. You hated the thought at the start, but learned to think it was sweet; that, in case something happened, at least he kissed his girl goodbye.
You’re watching your marriage crumble before your eyes, and Lando doesn’t seem to have a clue, or pretends not to notice. This is it, you decide. This cannot go any further. As soon as he gets home, you will talk to Lando, no matter how badly it will affect his race. You can’t do this any longer.
However, somebody else is already one step ahead of you. Carlos had noticed the toll your strained marriage with Lando was taking on you, and couldn’t help confronting Lando the first second he saw him. It didn’t help either that Charles was way too curious about the relationship drama. He had been pushing Carlos to find out more to save his gossip-desperate soul after the radio silence during the break.
“Hey, Lando!” Carlos yells, jogging up to Lando and matching his pace.
“Hey, man! How are you doing? Had a nice break?” Lando asks, giving Carlos a quick hug.
“Yeah, yeah, I had fun. What about you?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. It was good to get some time off. I really needed it; finally got to see my friends again,” Lando grins while Carlos raises an eyebrow at the answer.
“What about your wife? Finally got to spend some time with her now that you didn’t have to travel so much?” Carlos asks.
Lando laughs awkwardly at his suggestive question, “You know it!”
Carlos ignores the casual response. “I actually saw Y/N last week, at a friend’s birthday party. Was surprised to see you didn’t come with her…”
A frown etches onto Lando’s face. “What birthday party?”
“I think she’s one of Y/N’s best friends, she turned 25?”
Lando’s eyes widen in realisation. “Fuck, yes, I remember now.”
“She told you about it?” Carlos asks, watching as Lando’s expression shifts from realisation to discomfort.
“Yeah… She mentioned it a couple of times,” he admits. “She didn’t tell me that she went...” 
Carlos lets him ponder it for a moment before adding, “Well, she was there. We talked for a bit, actually.”
Lando feels his stomach tighten. He tilts his head slightly. “What did she say?”
Carlos hesitates, glancing around the paddock while he weighs his options. “Uhm, she said you’ve been distant lately. That you haven’t been paying much attention to her, that you missed your anniversary…”
Lando stops walking. “She told you about that?”
“Yeah, man.” Carlos sighs. “Look, she didn’t go into too much detail, but… she sounded upset. Maybe you should make some time for her, take her out on a date or something. It seems like she feels pretty lonely.” 
Lando shifts uncomfortably, his heart sinks in his chest. “Lonely?” The word echoes in his mind, unsettling him. He knows the feeling all too well. He’s the reason his wife has been feeling lonely? The guilt settles deep within his soul as he mulls it over. He tries to laugh it off, but it feels hollow. “She knows how demanding the season has been. I’ve been swamped.”
“I’m sure she does, but… it’s more than that. She told me she feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.” The look on his face is serious as he says it.
Lando blinks, the weight of Carlos’ words sinking in. How could he have missed something so crucial? Why hadn’t Y/N said anything? More importantly, why hadn’t he noticed?”
“She thinks I don’t care about her?” He mutters to himself. His gaze is unfocused as he chews his lip, running a hand over his face out of frustration. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He says quietly.
“There was no opportunity to tell you, she said. You're never home.”
Carlos lets out another sigh. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t want your marriage to be ruined. I know you love Y/N to pieces. I would be upset with myself if you guys don’t make it out together knowing I could have done something about it. That being said, I think you should talk to her.”
Lando nods absentmindedly. He didn't even consider that they might not make it out okay. “You’re right. Thanks for telling me, man.” 
As Carlos walks away, Lando is left standing there, his mind working overtime. He had been busy, yes, but surely you understood that, right? He’d been working so hard for the both of you, to secure a future for you. But… had he been neglecting you without even realising it?
The conversation with Carlos continues to replay in his head throughout the day. Maybe he hadn’t been as attentive as he thought. Maybe all those nights out with friends, all those early mornings spent focused on racing had a bigger effect than he assumed. He tries to push the thoughts away, to justify it with the pressure of the season, but it doesn’t sit right anymore.
The rest of the weekend Carlos’ words echo through his head, ‘She feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.’ Lando can barely concentrate with the guilt that’s gnawing at his conscious. 
– – – – – 
By the time Lando leaves his hotel, he has formed a plan. He has rehearsed a dozen different apologies in his head. He’ll explain what happened, that he’s been so busy with work that he didn’t notice, and he’ll say sorry and change his behaviour. And after that, all will be well.
His plan is thrown out the window as soon as he gets home and sees his wife sitting on the couch, your face pale and tired as you watch TV. The state of you makes the practised words dry on his tongue. How could he not have noticed what was happening? 
“Why didn’t you tell me you felt lonely?” 
You look up in surprise at the abrupt question cutting through the silence. No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘I missed you, baby’, just the sharp edge of confrontation.
“What?”
“Carlos told me you’ve been feeling lonely. Why didn’t you tell me?”
You frown at his directness, “When was I supposed to do that, Lando? You’re always gone.”
“That’s not true—” he tries to protest, but you cut him off.
“There was not one moment I could have told you, Lando! You’re always busy with work and when you’re not, your friends take up all your free time! You haven’t made any time for me in weeks, months even!” You yell.
Tears well up in your eyes at the confrontation. You had kept your frustrations to yourself for weeks and now that he finds out about your feelings he decides to yell at you for it. How else are you expected to react?
Your words hit Lando hard, each one landing like a punch. His eyes flicker with guilt. “I’ve been under so much pressure. The team needs me—this season could be my best chance at a championship, and I—”
You cut him off, your voice soft. “I know, Lando. I know how important your career is and that this is your chance, but that doesn’t mean all your time should be spent on racing. You’ve no time left for me anymore; all your energy is drained when I finally see you at the end of the day.”
“I can’t help that my job is demanding! You know that, Y/N. You’ve always known that. It takes a lot of time to improve, and the team is finally performing. It’s my chance at a championship! I can’t pass that up!”
“I get that Lando, I really do. But I’ve felt alone in this relationship for months now. I never see you, we never talk… The night of the party you didn’t even text me to ask where I was, or who I was with. You were already sleeping before I got home! Weren’t you worried at all? Or even curious to know where I was, whether I was safe? Sometimes… Sometimes, I doubt whether you still care about me – whether you still love me, because it feels like you don’t.” The tears slowly fall down your face while you say it.
That’s when it hits him – truly hits him. Lando swears he could hear his heart break. He looks at you in shock, and you can’t deny you feel a little better because of it. Had he really fucked up that bad? Do you really believe he no longer loves you, or cares about you? You are the most important person in his life. How could this have gone so far without him noticing? How could he have made the love of his life feel like she wasn’t loved? He runs a hand through his hair in distress, trying to wrap his head around your admission.
“I’ve been patient, Lando. I’ve been understanding, but you’re just never present. Not just physically, but mentally, too. I miss you.”
Lando looks at you sadly from across the room, disappointed in himself. He quickly closes the distance, reaching for your hand. His voice is soft when he speaks to you. “I do. I do love you, Y/N,” he says, caressing your face softly, pulling your chin up so your eyes meet, his teary eyes staring into your red ones. “You’re the love of my life. I care about you so much. You’re the most important to me, above anything else, and you always will be. Don’t forget that, okay? Promise me you’ll never forget that, baby.”
You sniffle, wiping away the tears that are slowly making their way down to your chin, while you nod. The sound physically pains him, his heart twisting torturously in his chest. He vows to never make you cry again.
“I’m so sorry I let it come this far, darling. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything, trying to win, trying to be perfect for the team that I didn’t see what I was losing in the process.” 
You interrupt him, “I don’t need perfect, Lando. I just need you to be here. With me. Because if it keeps going like this… I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”
Her words hang between them, and for the first time in weeks, Lando realises the gravity of what he stands to lose if he doesn’t make a change soon. He nods frantically. “Of course, baby. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. You say the word, and I’ll do it. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t love you, because I do. So much. I can’t lose you, I don’t ever want to come this close to losing you ever again.”
He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go; like you’ll walk away from him as soon as he does. You press your face into his chest, missing the feeling of him against you and his comforting scent. The last time he touched you, let alone hugged you feels like ages ago. 
“I’ll be better, I’ll make time for you, I promise,” he mumbles, his mouth grazing over your hair, as he tugs you impossibly closer into his tight embrace.
You smile faintly through your tears. “I believe you.”
1K notes · View notes
loonylupinblack3 · 4 months ago
Text
Jealous
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, slight violence
Summary: Logan see's a guy flirting with you and gets jealous
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: this was written while i was sleep deprived and had no idea where tf it was going so enjoy
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Logan wasn’t a very jealous person. He never had reason to be; everyone knew you were his and he didn’t feel the need to scare anyone off. He knew you only had eyes for him, and he didn’t feel threatened by anyone else.
Usually.
Yet as he was watching you laughing with that guy at the bar, like he was somehow the most hilarious fucking person on this planet, all he wanted to do was walk over there and punch the guy square in the jaw.
He didn’t though, because he’d learnt from the past you were not a fan of his outbursts but fuck he wanted to. He could feel his claws itching to extend, to rip through his flesh and proceed to rip out that guy’s flesh. He knew you were dating Logan, he’d have to. He was a new mutant to the school sure but he’d been here for about a week. It was common knowledge you and Logan were in a serious relationship; he’d have to have heard about it by now.
So he was flirting with you knowing you were taken. He might as well have been flirting with death.
“Calm down there mate.”
Scott’s voice took Logan out of his stewing. He glanced at his friend, who had noticed his jealousy and was staring at him with an amused look on his face.
“Shut up,” was Logan’s gruff response, eyes going back to your smiling face, resisting the urge to walk over there and claim you as his right in front of the bastard.
He was also miffed with you, however. Surely you weren’t that dumb. Surely you could see the blatant attraction the man held for you. Yet you did nothing to diffuse the tension or let him know you weren’t interested.
“Dude, you’d think you had my laser eyes with the way you’re glaring at that guy,” Scott said, not helping Logan in the slightest. He wished he did have Scott’s lazer eyes so he could get rid of this irritating problem. 
Jean decided to walk up at that moment, casting Logan a weary glance. “I’m not sure how long he can take before he snaps.”
“I can hear you y’know,” Logan said through gritted teeth, though Jean wasn’t entirely wrong.
It was when the guy laid his hands on you, squeezing your arm the way Logan did, that he finally ‘snapped’ as Jean had called it.
His friends didn’t even try to stop him as he stalked towards you, knowing it’d be no use. Logan was ready to rip that man’s arm off his body if he kept touching what was Logan’s, and he wouldn’t even feel bad about it. He’d enjoy it. 
You turned towards him when he arrived, shining him a bright smile. God, you really were that naive when it came to other men. Logan knew he should be grateful, knew this obliviousness came from a place of love, where you simply didn’t see any other man that way so you didn’t pick up on the obvious cues, but right now it was doing nothing but irk him, seeing another man flirt with you and seeing you do nothing about it.
“Logan,” you greeted warmly, wrapping both your arms around one of his, and shaking the other man’s hand off in the process. A bolt of satisfaction struck him at the action, but it wasn’t enough to quench his overwhelming jealousy.
He tugged you closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment when you eagerly complied, and his irritation towards you lessened slightly. Noticing the man’s narrowed gaze as he watched the two of you however only increased it.
He raised an eyebrow at the man. “Something wrong?”
He tried and failed to mask his face, Logan seeing the twisted jealousy lurking beneath the surface. It was so similar to his own it caught Logan off guard for a second, and his own anger towards the man wavered.
That was until he opened his mouth. 
“Just the fact you can’t give your girlfriend more than five minutes of space before you’re crowding her again.”
Logan was going to kill this man.
You seemed to realise that too as your hold got a tad tighter, as if to hold him back. If you weren’t wrapped around his arm his claws would already be out, yet you knew exactly how to stop him, and had it so Logan couldn’t attack this son of a bitch.
“Excuse me?” was his response again, and the people around them quietened, as if sensing the danger.
He felt rather than saw Scott and Jean move closer, to protect Logan or the man he wasn’t sure.
The man scoffed, glancing at you who was certainly not smiling at him anymore. “You see her chatting to me and you have to barge in. It’s like you’re scared if she talks to another guy she’ll realise you’re not all that and fuck off while she has the chance.”
Yep, this man was dead. He couldn’t just run his mouth like that, in front of you, and expect Logan not to pummel him into the ground. He was going to make sure the man’s death was painful and slow, that he felt every cut and bone breaking.
Yet before he could do a single thing you stepped forward and gave the guy a glare so dirty Logan was relieved not to be on the receiving end of it.
“You speak about my relationship with Logan like you have any idea of what goes on between us again and I’ll fuck your shit up.”
The man looked so stunned he couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. “But you- but he-”
“Did you ever think maybe I like having him around? That maybe spending time with my boyfriend is what I want? And even if I didn’t, did you really think I’d prefer you instead? A man who barely knows me yet tries to speak for me and insults the people I love?”
Logan was staring at you in awe. The way you kept going, stripping this man of his arrogance and self assuredness, ripping him to shreds verbally the way Logan would have physically, well, it turned him on. You matched each other so well he couldn’t help the smug smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the now humiliated man.
“I think she said it all.”
He sent Logan one last glare, and he thought that would be the end of it when he caught the muttered “bitch,” the man sent your way.
Immediately Logan’s fist was in his face, slamming into his jaw, his nose, any piece of flesh he could find. He was barely aware of the gasps around him and you’re incessant tugging of his shirt as he grabbed the man by the neck and looked him in the eye.
“If you so much as look at her in any disrespectful way again, I’ll tear you to shreds.”
Then he dropped the man, watching him scramble upright and swear profusely at him- though not a single word or glance was directed at you- before getting the hell out of there.
Satisfied, he turned to find you glaring at him, hands on your hips with a stern look on your face.
Logan held out both his hands in defence. “What?”
“I had that handled.”
Logan grabbed you by the waist and tugged you close, and though you weren’t exactly happy with him you weren’t completely mad either, because the man had been a dick, and let him reel you in.
“I know Bub, I just couldn’t let him get away with calling you that.”
You sighed but pressed your head into his chest and Logan knew he was victorious. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah?”
You smirked, “I want to see how wild you get when you’re jealous.”
Logan grinned a purely animalistic smile as he brought you close, pressing his lips against your ear as he whispered roughly, “oh just you wait Sweetheart.”
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tojisun · 1 year ago
Text
!! suggestive (and mini smut) - minors dni; bimbo (fem)!reader has simon wrapped around her pinky (we luv to see it!); the squad’s here too; hinted age difference (30s v. 20s)
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when they ask him where you two met, simon always tries his best to tamp down the smile threatening to grace his lips before clearing his throat and answering, "in the ER."
the questions that follow are always repetitive: 'what, why?', 'what happened?', 'how did things even go from there?' the last one is often paraphrased into some other versions, but the sentiment remains – people always get surprised, reduced into awkward stumbling because how could you even segue into a romantic relationship from having met in the ER?
well, simon thinks, it's actually quite fucking simple.
it was three in the morning and simon was in the lobby, waiting to be called in, when he saw you walk in: you clutched your broken heeled shoes in your hands, your beautiful legs were bearing injuries and cuts, and your hair was a wild mess. then, you ambled towards a baffled triage nurse.
"hi!" simon recalls your melodic voice echo, sounding too hyper even when you looked all banged up. "can i use y'r restroom? we got kicked outta the club."
simon was so focused on you that he didn't even notice the pack of girls following behind you, all of them looking just as haggard and bruised up. one of your friends was actually worryingly injured, so it’s no shock when the nurse rushed towards her, slightly panicked and confused before steering your friend away, leaving you there in the lobby.
then, you turned around, frowning at having been ignored, and it gave simon the best vantage point of finally seeing your face. he swears his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs constricting, because holy shit, you are beautiful.
"then the rest is history," simon ends, pulling you close to him. any closer and you would have ended on his lap – something he preferred, anyway – but johnny continues to stare at the two of you with a slack jaw, his eyes almost bulging out in confusion so simon tries to keep it civil.
you giggle, and simon watches as the rest of the squad snap their eyes on you, as though expecting you to grace them with a better explanation. but simon knows that you probably don't even know what's going on, having been busy tapping away on your phone, your acrylics making distinct clacks as they hit the screen.
"i love the history channel," you singsong, batting your eyelashes as you give them a dimpled smile. "simmy-" simon almost coos at the nickname you gave him, "and i looove watching the penguins."
simon presses a kiss on the top of your head, ignoring the bewildered looks his squad is shooting him.
"that's the 'animal planet', love. not the history channel," simon corrects gently, rubbing his hand down your side.
"oh!" you say, unbothered by your mistake. "okay!"
and that was that.
"what the fuck," simon hears johnny wheeze out only to up making choking noises when kyle elbows him. simon ignores them, choosing to watch as you turn back to your phone, mass-retweeting a series of post made by the magazine catalogue that you've been following.
cute.
---------
"fuck," simon hisses, feeling the sharp edge of the kitchen knife slicing through the first layer of his skin. he watches the blood bead, trickling down his finger, and simon wipes it before it can stain the pristine green – "sage!" you tutted to him once – countertops.
"si?" you ask, padding towards the kitchen at the clamour. he feels you press yourself to his side, your perky tits nuzzling his robust muscles. "what's goin- y'r bleeding!"
he grunts, frowning at himself for having made you worry. he moves to reassure you that he's okay, but you're already tugging him out of the kitchen, your smaller hand wrapped around his thicker wrist.
god, he loves seeing the size difference.
you're wearing his military shirt, the material sliding down your body beautifully, before pooling just above your perky ass. simon unabashedly stares at the way your ass jiggles – hidden underneath the tiniest booty shorts he knows you own – his throat bone dry and his sweats filling up all of a sudden.
he barely realizes that you two are in the bathroom until you're steering him towards the edge of the bathtub before twisting to fish the emergency kit from the floor cabinets. simon almost groans at the perfect shape that your ass makes when you bend over, feeling himself throb with raging desire.
you pull out a pink emergency kit and skitter towards him again, slotting yourself between his spread legs. simon raises his hand – the uninjured one – to grasp at your waist, sliding it down to your hips, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"it's nothin' fatal, sweet'art," simon mumbles, thumbing your hipbone as he tries to comfort you.
you're still pouting at him when you say, "sure, i guess. but lemme help you?"
and who is simon to say no to that?
"of course, love."
he lets out a quiet chuckle when you press your glossed lips on his forehead, unbothered even when your lips leave a sticky stamp on his skin.
he watches you disinfect his wound with a strawberry-scented sanitizer before wrapping a pink adhesive bandage around it. his worries about having his open wound disinfected by a glittery sanitizer fade away when you picked his hand up to place a kiss on his now-bandaged finger.
glitter-induced infections no longer matter. not when simon's getting nursed to full health by such a pretty girl.
he licks the back of his teeth, clenching his jaw, and thinks, you deserve a reward, don't you, sweetness?
---------
johnny blanches when he sees the bandage around simon's finger. "LT, what in fuck's name is that?"
his loud voice snags the attention of garrick and their captain who ambled their way towards him upon hearing the commotion. garrick chokes on nothing when he sees the pink bandage that simon's sporting.
"bandage," simon replies, pride heavy in his voice. "from my girl."
johnny whirls and shoots a pointed look towards kyle and john. kyle is the one who breaks the silence.
"…are they safe for use?"
"what's the cat even bandaging?" johnny adds.
simon huffs, flicking his finger up to give the squad a better view. "firstly, this is 'hello kitty'. secondly, you questionin' my girl’s ability to care for me?"
john coughs, looking away, kyle arches a brow at him like the answer should be obvious, and johnny gulps loudly, before mumbling, "...yes."
simon sniffs, unable to blame them. "yeah, well, don't."
the squad is still quiet. waiting.
simon finally gives in and replies, "i checked. they're safe for use."
he rolls his eyes at their dramatic sigh.
"that's good to hear," john says before clapping his hands together once, urging them to disperse.
simon grumbles all the way back to his room.
---------
simon loves his pretty, dumb girlfriend to death.
he loves seeing you dolled up – skimpy dresses made of silk material paired with heels that could honestly stab someone to death. he also loves seeing you in nothing but his ratty jumpers – loose black sweaters stopping just after your crotch and the sleeves falling past your fingers.
but nothing tops seeing you naked and crying for him.
nothing could ever top this – your legs folded close to your chest, your ankles hooked on his shoulders, your pretty make up running as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes and flood your cheeks.
he thrusts his fingers in your cunt again, breathless when it punches out another slick gush of your squirt, drenching you two even more. you squeal, body locking, your hips lifting from the bed. simon has to press down on your belly to keep you stable.
"siii!" you cry out, thrashing on his hold, but simon just kisses your leg as he continues to fuck his fingers in you.
"shh," simon murmurs, feeling so choked up at the sight you make. "one more for me, yeah?"
you moan out a reply, a garbled mixture of 'yes' and his name, before wrapping your hands around his arms, your acrylics digging into his skin. simon doesn't even register the pain, still too caught up at fingering you to feel the way you're clawing him.
still too caught up at how perfect you are for him.
(later, when he checks the mirror and sees the angry red welts, simon purrs at the sight of them. because simon loves being marked by you, doesn't matter how, as long as he has bearings of your pleasure. pleasure he gave you.)
---------
simon receives a video message from you. it’s nothing long or conspicuous, but simon still chokes when he finally gets to watch it.
because in the video, you’re wearing simon’s old varsity shirt on top of your university cheer uniform.
“look!” you chirp, twirling for him. “found this in the closet!”
simon slams his captain’s door open and demands a vacation leave.
---------
the lieutenant has a new tattoo and johnny doesn't know what the actual shit it's supposed to be.
it looks like a wriggly blob of a... cloud? a cotton ball? candy floss?
it was still a somewhat fresh tattoo so simon never truly shows it off – johnny doesn't even know if it's worthy of being shown off – until one night at a bar, simon rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and leans to the squad to point at the blob.
"lookit," he slurs, tipsy and just a touch giddy.
finally, johnny cheers to himself before reaching forward to poke just beside the scribble.
"what's it?"
"mittens," their lieutenant croons, smiling down at his skin like a weirdo.
johnny has seen enough mittens to know that whatever that fucking squiggle is isn't mittens.
"uhm," kyle says, thankfully thinking along the same lines as johnny. "is it?"
"yeah," simon says wistfully, drunken in a lovesick way. "s'my girl's cat. she drew it f'r me."
oh. well, fuck. now that's just too cute.
wait.
"that's a drawing of a cat?" johnny rasps out, choking on his spit before turning to study the tattoo again.
it's still a fucking blob.
christ.
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n0thingbutlov3 · 5 months ago
Text
need you now
in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)
“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”
His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.
You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.
You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.
“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.
“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.
You swallowed it down.
“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.
You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.
“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.
You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.
It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.
When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.
It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.
You think this qualified.
You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.
You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.
You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.
You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.
“Spencer?” You slurred.
He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.
You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.
You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.
“I’m fine.”
Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.
“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.
You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.
“How did you get in?”
“My key.”
“Oh.”
Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.
“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.
“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.
You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.
You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.
“Angel, what’s wrong?”
You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.
“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.
Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.
His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.
“Do you want to talk?”
Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?
“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.
“Okay.”
Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.
“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.
You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.
He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.
“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—
“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.
and—actually, you were fine now.
He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.
He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.
“Whole thing, please.”
You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.
The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.
You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.
“Why did we break up?”
He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.
“I—you know why—“
“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.
Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.
“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?
“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”
Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.
“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“
“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.
“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.
“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”
Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.
“Of course I want to.”
“Okay,”
“Okay.”
He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.
Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.
As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.
You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.
“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”
He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.
“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.
“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”
You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.
“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.
Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.
“Unless you want to, I mean—“
“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.
He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.
You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.
You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.
“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.
“Nothing. You’re pretty.”
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Why?”
“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”
Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.
“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”
You nodded.
“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”
You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.
“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”
You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.
part two!
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5sospenguinqueen · 5 months ago
Text
Growing Pains Pt 2 | Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: Oscar thought leaving was the best thing for you, but quickly realised he cannot function without you.
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Suggestive content.
2024 season. Childhood sweethearts. No facelaim, just rando Pinterest pics
This acc just ended up being Landoscar fluff because I consumed too much of them after Silverstone lol
F1 Masterlist
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mclaren just posted
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liked by aussiegrit, ln4 and others
mclaren oscar’s post race interviews #bahraingp 
2,559 comments
mclaren please enjoy some clips of our aussie talking about the one aspect of his life NOT involved with his job
→ user1 did mclaren just hard launch a relationship?
→ user2 no because why did they post clips that specifically don’t mention a name
→ user3 yes but the familiarity of the way he’s talking about this girl must mean it’s one he’s known since he was 14???
danielricciardo caught simping in 4k
thisisnotyn oscar sweaty got me feeling some kind of way 
charles_leclerc oh god, that goofy smile is back. i know what that means
→ maxverstappen1 he’s going to start yapping more than i do
→ user4 what do you know?!
alex_albon mate, i’m not going to lie, i don’t think we can defend you from this anymore
→ oscarpiastri you sent me memes of my face. you have never defended me
→ georgerussell63 join the club. wait until he sends you reaction gifs 
→ landonorris i love getting those 
YourUserName pookie 
→ user5 um, is she calling oscar pookie?
→ user6 well, it’s not going to be lando. he was only in one of the clips 
→ user7 idk, we don’t know what happened between them. it could’ve been a bad breakup and she might be trying to piss them off
→ landonorris ew, no. it’s not me. they made up weeks ago btw. no way osco would’ve lasted this long without his yn
→ YourUserName what do you mean ew! you’d be lucky to have me
→ danielricciardo no he wouldn’t
oscarpiastri i also talked a lot about my performance in the race
→ landonorris and where is that footage, huh??? funny how it doesn’t exist 
→ oscapiastri yn says you’re not allowed to tag along to date night anymore because you insulted both of us 
→ landonorris :(
→ user8 what do you mean he tagged along on date night?
→ user9 why are we skipping past the fact that lando confirmed that they’re back together
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others 
YourUserName ladies, get a boyfriend who looks at you the way Oscar looks at Lando (actually, can you get me one first because mine seems to be broken) 
1,142 comments
oscarpiastri whoa, you told me i was a handsome boy. that photo doesn’t look like a handsome boy 
→ YourUserName some people are into the serial killer eyes. not me though, that’s why i’m asking the fans to find me a new bf
→ logansargeant i’ll help
→ user10 we know which side logan is choosing in the divorce 
landonorris how does it feel to know that your boyfriend likes me more 
→ YourUserName i know how to cut brake lines
→ landonorris 😰😰
→ mclaren yn, please don’t threaten our drivers
→ YourUserName hey, i’ll take them both out if they don’t end their affair 
→ oscarpiastri and here i was thinking you would cut his brake lines so i could get on the podium instead 
→ YourUserName sure, we can go with that
user11 can we take a moment to enjoy the fact that they’ve been back together for 4 months and he’s still letting her bully him
→ YourUserName i’m riding the guilt trip until the very end 
→ oscarpiastri i love you
→ YourUserName i know
→ landonorris but not as much as he loves me! 
→ YourUserName i know where you sleep
→ landonorris yeah, with your boyfriend!
→ oscarpiastri don’t tell the internet that! 
danielricciardo lando used to look at me that way
→ YourUserName i think we should start a spurned wags group
→ danielricciardo i’ll bring the wine
→ YourUserName i’ll bring the lightning mcqueen crocs
→ liamlawson30 can i join?
oscarpiastri sweetheart, you know you’re the light of my life
→ YourUserName didn’t feel that way when you guided lando away from a puddle and let me put my foot right in it
→ oscarpiastri i gave you my socks! 
→ YourUserName they were sweaty
→ oscarpiastri it’s all i had… 
→ mclaren yn, please stop bullying him. we can hear him crying from his driver’s room
→ user12 no because the fact that the majority of mclaren admin’s online interactions are just begging yn to behave 
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oscarpiastri just posted
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oscarpiastri when you say date night and she says I’m not putting pants on 
2,329 comments
YourUserName thank you for sharing your pizza with me after i burnt mine <3
→ oscarpiastri i can’t wait to share more with you
landonorris did she hide in your neck at the scary parts 
→ oscarpiastri no she fucking laughed at the way he was running
→ landonorris you cuddled into her neck at the scary parts, didn’t you 
→ oscarpiastri i plead the fifth
→ YourUserName it’s okay, princess, you know i’ll always protect you 
logansargeant no because they had their ‘date night’ 3 days ago and the paintings they did of each other are hanging in their bathroom, and when i tell you they were a shock to the system
→ user13 logan, show them to us, please
YourUserName it’s not my fault that it’s hard to keep pants on when you’re around 
liked by oscarpiastri
→ mclaren we talked about this 
→ landonorris my eyes! 
→ user14 @ aussiegrit come get your kids
→ YourUserName don’t tag him in it. mark still thinks i’m nice
→ oscarpiastri no, he knows you’re a gremlin
arthur_leclerc not you trying to pretend that you are romantic when you asked me for all of those ideas
→ YourUserName oh really?
→ oscarpiastri i had a whole night planned and you decided you didn’t want to go out!
→ alex_albon no because you really had him stressing
→ georgerussell63 he was even messaging the grid group chat 
→ danielricciardo he had a whole group of guys debating the best alternative to rose petals
→ YourUserName because i don’t like roses 🥹 oh, osc. it was perfect
→ oscarpiastri 🤍🤍
→ user15 anyone else finding this suspicious
charles_leclerc a date night to remember, i’m sure. and not for the lack of pants 
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user1 rough night in the piastri house, he’s upset mom and wifey 
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, oscar. please don’t bring yn with you
→ YourUserName you’re just jealous that i didn’t want dinner with you 
→ maxverstappen1 wait, i thought i was your favourite. why don’t you want dinner with me?
→ charles_leclerc you are welcome for dinner anytime, yn
→ oscarpiastri see, what you’ve done. now lestappen are fighting. you promised to keep your crushes to yourself
user2 i love how now that oscar is past his rookie year, his true personality of being a gremlin has come out 
→ user3 now that shy oscar has gone we’re seeing just how well he pairs with yn
→ arthur_leclerc and i can guarantee the grid are missing shy oscar. i have had to put up with this since 2021
→ georgerussell63 i can confirm we do
→ logansargeant now you understand why i prefer to be quiet. if you don’t talk, they can’t bully you 
→ georgerussell63 my name on yn’s phone is amelia georgehart 
→ oscarpiastri we’ve been together for years and mine is peestri pants, count yourself lucky
→ YourUserName lando’s is just fucker. 
→ landonorris the full stop included? 
nicolepiastri i have some questions 
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName weekends away with you  
1,012 comments
YourUserName thank you for a lovely weekend away from the madness. i could spend forever with you in our little bubble 
→ danielricciardo oh wow so you’re both simps?
→ YourUserName look away! i have a reputation to maintain
→ oscarpiastri no you don’t. you luuuuurve me
landonorris i can’t believe you left me behind 
charles_leclerc remove your head from that poor girl’s shirt. i raised you better than that
pierregasly someone convince kiks to do this with me. she refuses to go camping
→ francisca.cgomes because neither of us would survive sleeping on the ground
→ oscarpiastri neither would yn if not for the fact that we camped in the back garden
→ YourUserName why would i want to go somewhere without a functioning toilet! 
logansargeant where is your shirt. nobody wants to see that 
→ YourUserName i think you’ll find that i did 
→ oscarpiastri she’s a big fan
mclaren please come back, we miss you 
→ oscarpiastri yn says she still has another weekend before she has to return me
→ mclaren we were talking to yn
→ YourUserName miss you too, boo 🧡
→ landonorris why don’t you speak to me like that 
→ YourUserName ‘cause you stole my osc
→ oscarpiastri no one could take me from you 
user4 no because that last pic screams engagement photo and i don't know why
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charles_leclerc just posted
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charles_leclerc i am an incredibly proud father right now  
10,226 comments
oscarpiastri in other words, i convinced the prettiest girl in the world to marry me 
→ YourUserName and now i have the prettiest husband in the world 
user5 how is lando taking oscar looking at someone else that way?
→ landonorris not well
→ danielricciardo he cried the whole day
→ YourUserName that’s why i gave him my flowers
→ landonorris no i earnt those!
→ lilymhe yeah, i still have the bruises! 
user6 miss rabbit has fainted 
YourUserName i enjoyed our father-daughter dance
→ fernandoalo_official @ aussiegrit the monegasque is trying to steal our children
→ oscarpiastri now i’m in trouble with mark
→ YourUserName i’ll make it up to you on our honeymoon
→ oscarpiastri 😳☺️
user6 fuck you to all the bitches who said they wouldn’t last because they’ve never dated anyone else
mclaren what a beautiful couple. i think we need to put those up around MTC
→ YourUserName i think zak would really appreciate them in his office
→ oscarpiastri what makes you think i haven’t already put them up around MTC. gotta keep my wife with me wherever i go
→ YourUserName stop making me giggle 
user7 definition of soulmates 
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, yn. even though i asked oscar to leave you behind when he was adopted 
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others
YourUserName i made something 
10,229 comments
nicolepiastri and an amazing job you did, sweetheart
→ YourUserName i love you 💗
→ user8 nicer to mama piastri than she is to her own husband 
oscarpiastri i helped
→ YourUserName you contributed for like 2 seconds
→ oscarpiastri stop being mean to me or i may fall in love with you 
→ landonorris 2 second wonder
→ YourUserName you would know
charles_leclerc i’m too handsome to be a grandpapa 
→ YourUserName certified gilf 
→ oscarpiastri i cannot believe you made me read that. i thought you were better than this
→ YourUserName whoa, i have never been better than this and you know that but i can blame it on baby hormones this time
→ charles_leclerc and oscar will let you get away with it
→ oscarpiastri damn right. she just had my baby
landonorris does this mean i get the chance to win godfather of the year
→ danielricciardo don’t tell me they actually named you godfather. you can barely keep yourself alive
→ logansargeant yn got to pick me so oscar was given the choice to pick the other
→ oscarpiastri we made the decision together as loving parental unit 
→ YourUserName the decision was made whilst i was high on gas and motherly love 
→ oscarpiastri stop making it sound like i coerced you
→ YourUserName you had your top off! of course i was coerced. piastitties
→ mclaren yn, no
oscarpiastri sweetheart, i have loved you every day since we were 14 and being by your side these past 9 months, watching you go through such a monumental change, only proved that it was possible for me to love you even more. i can’t wait to see our family grow 💕
→ YourUserName i love you so much, oscie. from growing with you to growing our own mini us, i’d go through all the pain again for forever with you
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Hi, guys. If you have requested previously, I promise they're coming. I've just got them added to my list
Baby Fever Angst Series
Tag list
@barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @leclercsluvs @weekendlusting @urdad-hot @lemon-lav @rosecentury @peachiicherries
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inkedbybarnes · 8 months ago
Text
his baby
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: bucky won't call you by your name.
word count: 400+
warnings: 18+ minors dni. established relationship. tooth rotting fluff, or worse... allusions to smut. a whole lot of usage of petnames mainly being baby, bucky being obsessed with the reader (that's a warning, i say), lowercase writing.
i have no idea what this is (okay, maybe i do) but it happened. really cheesy, but i guess i'm into that sometimes. hope you like this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“where's my baby?”
those three words kept echoing all throughout the compound this morning. most of the team were up and awake to welcome bucky, steve, and sam who just arrived home from their week long mission.
but his baby was missing.
“oh, god. here he goes again.” sam shook his head, fatigue written all over his face, but a bit of amusement from bucky's behaviour still shining through. he couldn't deny how admirable bucky's adoration for you was.
“calm down, punk." steve pat his shoulder reassuringly. “i'm sure she's here somewhere.”
“yeah, but where?” bucky asks again. “i haven't seen her for a week. i miss her.”
“you think he remembers her name?" clint jokingly asked.
“she has multiple names, remember?” tony answered. “baby, sweetheart, love, sweets, and.. what's the other one? i swear, there's another, or maybe two?”
before one of them could find the answer, bucky popped right in front of them to ask another question.
“is my baby okay?” his brows were all scrunched up, genuinely worried about you. “did you tell her i was coming home? i told her before we took off. why isn't she here? she's always—”
“okay, lover boy. your baby is alright, she's still sleeping in your room, i think.” tony answered him, finally calming him down. “and can you call her by her name when it's just us around? we're starting to think that you forgot what her actual name is."
“what? she's my only baby, it's not that hard to figure it out." bucky shrugged, causing at least three of the avengers to run their hands through their face at his answer. “and why is she still asleep? is she sick?"
natasha raised her hand, a guilty smile on her face. “i'm the reason for that. i made her stay up late with me last night to watch five seasons of a show we discovered accidentally,” she explained, a proud smile now replacing her guilty one. “she might be a little cranky from the lack of sleep, so you better have something for her when she wakes up.”
“oh, i do.” bucky grinned like he already knew what to give her and was prepared for it. “all of you might want to leave the tower for the entire day if you don't want to hear me giving it to her.”
what used to be the shouts of bucky looking for you were now replaced with the grunts and complaints of the team because of bucky's answer.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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junezsq · 3 months ago
Text
cigarettes
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steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you hate the way cigarettes taste and when he finds out he decides that maybe it’s time to quit
established relationship
warnings: alcohol, (underage) drinking, partying, smoking, a few swear words, make out scenes
word count: 3.6k
a/n: someone get me somebody like steve ugh!!!! the way I feel like he'd do anything for the people he loves :')
── ᵎᵎ ✦
by the time you’d filled up the kitchen counter with all the different types of liquor you could find it felt like you had run half a marathon. to be completely honest, you were still in shock about how one household could own this much alcohol in the first place.
the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the hallway towards the kitchen and when you glanced sideways you smiled at your boyfriend walking towards you. “hey,” you pushed yourself off the counter and motioned your hands at the kitchen island, proud of the set up you’d made, “tadaa! what do you think?.”
he chuckled, “you didn’t have to.” he looked over the full counter before looking back at you, taking a few steps closer so he was able to place his hands on your waist, “it looks great, sweets.”
you shrugged, “i wanted to help.” you smiled, moving your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. your eyes flickered up to his hair, which he had carefully styled in the time you’d been setting up the kitchen. the devil on your shoulder told you it’d be fun to run your hands through it and mess it up a bit. you didn’t want to force him to undergo the entire styling process again though, which would result into him missing the start of the party he was organizing, “it was a lot though, is it all yours?”
steve glanced over at all the bottles you’d picked, “it’s my dad’s.” he looked back at you, raising his hand to carefully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. you raised your brows, “and he lets you use it? i bet my dad would kill me if i drank even the tiniest bit of his precious liquor.”
“i don’t know.” he moved his hand back to your waist, “he’s never home long enough to check.”
your gaze softened as you softly squeezed his shoulders in comfort. you knew how difficult it had been, and still was, for steve; not having his parents home for majority of his life. “luckily, you now have me to irritate you.” you tried to lighten the mood, successfully, because he let out a soft chuckle and dipped his head to sweetly place his lips on yours.
you let yourself melt into the kiss for a short moment before pulling back, leaning your forehead against his, "on that note," you bit your bottom lip, slightly smirking as you leaned backwards so you could look at him again, "could i stay the night?"
steve smiled at your request, "you know you don't have to ask that, sweets." he softly squeezed your hips, placing a quick peck on your lips. "but if you do, you have to help me clean up."
you giggled, moving to stand on your toes and reconnect your lips with his. you felt him smile through the kiss and you slightly tightened your grip on his shoulders when he pulled you closer against him.
the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the house interrupted your moment and a laugh escaped your throat at steve throwing his head back in annoyance. you softly patted his chest, "i'll open the door."
steve watched as you walked off around the corner and towards the front door. god the things you did to him. there was never a moment he looked at you and didn't want to smother you with kisses. he was sure he could kiss you all day, everyday, and never get tired of it. he shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips as he turned to the kitchen island, grabbing two red cups to fill them up with a drink he knew you liked.
the first to enter were some you recognised as steve's friends and a couple of your classmates. you decided to keep the door unlocked so no one had to worry about constantly hearing the obnoxious sound of the doorbell.
while you made your way back to the kitchen you widened your eyes, surprised by the amount of people that had arrived in the span of a few minutes. you muttered a couple sorry’s as you squished yourself through the crowd and a breath of relief left your lips when you’d finally reached the kitchen.
your eyes fell on steve, who was talking to someone you vaguely recognized as someone from your school year. you dusted off your hands on your jeans as you stepped closer to them, “hey.” you breathed out, and at the sound of your voice the two immediately turned their heads to look at you. you glanced down and caught sight of the two cups in steve’s hands. “what’cha got there?”
steve followed your line of sight, “right.” he glanced at the guy next to him, telling him he’d find him later that night to continue whatever conversation they were having, “here you go, gorgeous.” he turned to you and handed you the fullest cup, clearly already having drunk from the other one.
you thanked him as you took the cup from his hand, a small smile playing on your lips, “you didn’t have to cut off your conversation with …?”
he chuckled, leaning back against the counter, “joshua.”
“right,” you nodded before taking a sip of your drink.
“it’s fine, we still have the entire night to finish that.” steve kept his smile playing on his lips as he took your free hand in his, pulling you closer to him, “and i needed to give you your favorite drink.”
you playfully rolled your eyes at his words, “you’re such a cliché, harrington.”
“don’t act like you don’t love it.”
“hmm.” you stilted your head, trying to appear as if you were in thought, “maybe.”
steve smirked at you, softly squeezing your hand as he pulled you even closer against him. he immediately smashed his lips on yours and you returned his smirk through the kiss. you tried your best not to spill the drink you were still holding in one hand as you untangled your other from his, moving it to the back of his neck.
his tongue swept over your bottom lip, as if to ask for permission and so you moved your hand up to slightly tug on his hair in answer. he groaned softly at the gesture and tightened his grip on your waist, slowly starting to loose himself into the kiss. he couldn't get enough of it. of you.
"yo, harrington! stop sucking the life out of your girlfriend!"
a voice called throughout the kitchen and you giggled as you pulled away from steve. your hand was still tangled up in his hair when you glanced to the backdoor in which eddie was leaning against the doorpost. you playfully rolled your eyes and looked back at steve starting to carefully fix his hair.
"you're just saying that because you're still bitchless, munson." steve shot back, removing his hand from your waist only to immediately wrap his other arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you instinctively wrapped your arm around his middle.
"whatever." eddie scoffed, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, "you comin' outside?"
steve's gaze landed on you, his eyes searching your features for a hint of your thoughts. you smiled at him, "go! i'll try and find robin or nancy."
"are you sure?" steve's eyes were focused on yours and you gave him another reassuring smile, "yeah!" you detached yourself from him and softly pushed him towards the backdoor, "go!"
"alright, alright," steve chuckled, leaning closer to you again to place a quick kiss on your lips, "don't let anyone get close to your drink."
you giggled at his protectiveness, knowing he would stay by your side the entire evening if you asked him to, "i won't, now go! eddie's waiting." his hand found your cheek as he leaned in for another soft kiss. you smiled against his lips while slightly pulling him closer by his collar.
“harrington!”
eddie’s call-out made him draw back with a stupid grin playing on his lips, “see you later, yeah?”
you nodded, letting go off his collar to softly pat his chest, “see ya.” your own smile didn’t recede as you watched him stalk off towards eddie and out the back door. a soft breath escaped your lips before you quickly downed your drink. time to mingle.
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:
the chatter and music died down as you stumbled through the hallway, trying to make your way towards the bathroom. at the sound of a door closing you glanced backwards, but the quick movement caused you to loose your balance. before you could fall face first to the ground though, a pair of strong hands found your waist.
“shit, sorry.” you grumbled, automatically grabbing their arm to straighten yourself. when you found the mystery person’s face you immediately widened your eyes in surprise, “steve!”
it was obvious you’d had a drink too many; the strap of your top had fallen of your shoulder and your hair was completely disheveled. steve chuckled at your excitement and let go of your waist to carefully readjust the strap and place some hair strands that were stuck against your lipgloss behind your ears, “what’s up, sweets?”
you shrugged, “nothing much.” steve’s hand found it’s way to your upper arm, causing your insides to warm up at his touch. you slightly raised your brows when you remembered something, “i found robin!”
“you did?” steve let his thumb rub small circles on your skin.
you nodded eagerly, “yeah! only a moment after you went outside, she walked into the kitchen. she made me a drink, actually!” you started rambling, “it was really good! not as good as the one you made me, but maybe, like, a close second!”
“a close second, huh?”
you hummed in response, “and then we talked for a while, i don’t remember about what, though.” you lightly tilted your head in thought, but gave up quickly, “doesn’t matter, because then we went dancing for a bit, and after that she made me another one of those drinks. that one wasn’t as good as the first one she made me, though.”
“that’s too bad.” steve’s eyes went over your features while he listened carefully, “and then … you ended up here?”
“yeah,” you smiled at your boyfriend, “i was on my way to the bathroom, but now that i think about it, i don’t really have to pee.” you shrugged and steve let out a soft chuckle.
you slightly tilted your head, placing your pointer finger against his chest, “what have you been up to, handsome?”
an amused grin was playing on steve’s lips and you swore you could see small sparkles glowing in his eyes as he looked at you, “well, while robin was playing your personal bartender, i was outside with eddie and a few other guys from our year…”
you tried your utmost best to focus on whatever steve was telling you, but for some reason all you could look at, and think of, were his lips. they were just too pretty to not look at. you swallowed, flattening your hand against his chest as your mind started wandering to what his way too perfect lips could do. what they’d done to you already.
“are you listening?”
his voice pulled you out off your trance and your eyes flickered up to his, “huh?”
he raised his brows teasingly, “what are you thinking off?”
you let out a soft breath, “sorry, it’s just … i wanna listen to what you’re saying,” you trailed your hand up to his cheek so you could place your thumb on his bottom lip, your own lips forming a small pout, “but all i can think of is your lips and how badly i want to kiss them.”
“do you now?” steve smirked, your thumb moving along with his bottom lip as he spoke. your eyes intently followed the small movement.
“yeah…” you let out another sigh, “wait! is this what you meant when you told me you wish you could kiss me 24/7?” you blurted out, tearing your gaze away from his lips to look him back in the eye.
all steve did was let out a soft laugh. his hand slowly creeped up your arm and to your hand, removing it from his cheek so he could intertwine them, “i did tell you that, huh?”
“i get it now.” your focus landed back on his lips as you softly bit your own bottom lip. the things you’d do to the male standing in front of you if his house wasn’t full with people right now.
he pulled you closer by your hand and leaned slightly closer. his forehead was almost touching yours and when he spoke in a whisper you felt shivers form along your spine, “you know you can just kiss me anytime you want, sweets.”
“i know.” you whispered, detaching your hand from his and moving it, along with your other, up to the back of his neck. his hands instantly moved to your waist. you smirked lightly as you pulled him closer; your foreheads now touching, “but what if i want you to kiss me?”
steve chuckled before connecting your lips with his and you felt yourself instantly relax. “you’re crazy.” he spoke in between kisses, softly squeezing your hips.
“about you, yeah.” you mumbled against his lips, tangling one of your hands into his hair; wanting him to be as close to you as possible.
you raised yourself to stand on your toes just as his tongue darted past your lips and into your mouth. a soft groan escaped steve's lips as he tightened his grip onto your hips. just when you started to melt into the kiss, you could taste a bit of nicotine on either his tongue or lips.
you pulled back slightly, which steve took as a hint to trail his kisses down towards your jaw and neck. your brows formed a small frown in thought. was it your imagination or did he really taste like cigarettes? wanting to find out you placed your palms on his cheeks so you could tilt his head back up and move back into a kiss. as soon as your lips touched his again, you knew you were right.
you leaned back, "did you smoke?" you asked, your eyes on his and his face still cradled in your hands.
steve blinked in confusion, "I did ... outside with eddie and the others." he let his fingertips slip just underneath your top as he spoke, under the impression you already knew he'd smoked earlier that night, "why?"
you threw your head back and let out a groan, “ugh.” a sigh escaped your lips, letting your hands slip down to his shoulders as you looked him back in the eyes, “ now i don’t want to kiss you anymore.”
steve's brows knitted together, getting more confused by the second, "what? ... why?"
"i hate the taste of cigarettes." your lips formed a pout as you spoke, "kinda makes me want to throw up, actually."
"really?! i didn’t know that."
"yeah..." you nodded, starting to play with the collar of his polo.
steve slipped one of his hands from underneath your top and reached up to tuck a stubborn strand of hair behind your ear, "so if I kiss you again right now, you'll throw up..?"
you giggled softly, "okay, maybe, not literally throw up." your eyes went over his features as you spoke, "i just think it tastes awful."
"right." steve slightly tilted his head in thought.
when you noticed you softly squeezed his shoulders, "I'm not saying you have to quit smoking, or anything! you can do whatever you want." you smiled affectionately, "i just won't kiss you right after you've smoked ... maybe you can eat a mint or brush your teeth?"
"alright." steve quickly nodded, still slightly thrown off by this new information. "yeah, i can do that." he smiled at you, moving his hand back to your waist, "wouldn't want to miss out on kissing you, now would i?"
a giggle escaped your lips as you reached your hand up to softly ruffle his hair, “i’m going to get some water, sober up a bit.” you smiled, brushing some hair away from his eyes, “see you later?”
even though you already knew his answer your smile grew slightly when steve hummed in confirmation. you raised yourself on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, his hands instinctively squeezing your waist.
you gave him one last smile and steve watched as you walked off. his eyes stayed on the doorway through which you had just disappeared a moment longer before throwing his head back. all sort of thoughts were circulating through his head; he couldn’t stop thinking of the conversation you’d just had.
he ran his hands through his hair before placing them on his hips. how had he not know about this? he though of all the times he’d smoked, coming to the conclusion that none of them had been around you, and that there’d always been quite some time between taking a cigarette and seeing you.
steve sighed and let his hand slip into his pocket, taking out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes; the thought of not being able to kiss you slipped into his mind. he ran his free hand through his hair once more before stalking off towards the kitchen.
he squished himself through the crowd, mumbling a quick sorry when bumping into someone. a voice he vaguely recognized called his name but he ignored it as his thoughts were elsewhere.
when he reached the kitchen he instantly went for one of the counter cabinets and opened it to reveal the trash can. he took one last glance at the cigarettes and lighter in his hand before throwing them away. a small breath of relief escaped his lips; it almost felt as if he should’ve done this way sooner.
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:
when steve wasn’t able to find you he decided to take a breath of fresh air and go outside for a bit. while he ran his hand through his hair he closed the back door. he was still wondering if he should tell you he’d decided to quit smoking tonight or if he would wait until after the party; not sure if you had managed to sober up.
“look who we’ve got here.” he glanced up to find eddie already looking at him, a stupid smirk grazing his lips. eddie reached out his hand that held a pack of cigarettes, “want one?”
steve shook his head, “thanks, but i can’t.”
“what?” eddie slightly tilted his head, taking a cigarette for himself before stuffing the package into his pocket, “didn’t you smoke one with me earlier?”
steve watched as eddie casually lit up the cigarette, “yeah, that was my last one.”
“your last one?” eddie knitted his brows, exhaling the smoke, “ever?”
steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. he had never been a big smoker, he’d probably describe himself as an occasional one; parties, etc. however, having eddie point out so specifically he’d taken his last cigarette earlier that night, it made it sound so official. “yeah, man.”
“why’s that?” eddie tapped his cigarette, his eyes focused on the male in front of him.
steve shrugged once more, “promised my girl.”
the moment the words had left steve’s lips, eddie perked up, his eyes widening and a stupendous smirk growing on his own lips, “no way.”
“what?”
eddie exhaled some more smoke and slightly pushed steve’s shoulder, “aw, my little stevie is in love.”
steve slightly rolled his eyes, but stayed silent as he let his eyes wander over his backyard. eddie’s smirk grew even larger at his silence, “dude, you’re not even denying it!”
“okay, shut up.”
eddie opened his mouth to tease steve a bit more, but closed it the second his eyes caught on the back door opening. when he saw who was making their way outside he grinned back at steve, placing his cigarette against his lips, “speak of the devil.”
steve knitted his brows in confusion, turning his head towards the direction eddie was looking. at the sight of you his brows and posture relaxed instantly and when your eyes found his he couldn’t help but smile. you returned his smile and walked closer to the pair, “hey, i was looking for you, actually.”
“were you now?” eddie tapped his cigarette, “i’ve been outside the entire night.” he playfully smiled at you.
you let out an exaggerated gasp, your eyes falling on the curly haired, "no way! dang it, I should've come out here sooner." you giggled softly.
eddie exhaled some smoke once more before peaking away his cigarette, "too bad and too late, cutie, because i'm going inside now." he sent you a smile and glanced at steve, softly patting his arm, "good luck with the whole 'no smoking' thing, buddy."
your eyes snapped to steve, who obviously cringed at eddie's words. the curly haired called out a goodbye; you waved at him but kept your focus on your boyfriend, "what did he mean by that?"
steve bit his bottom lip, his eyes avoiding yours, "yeah, uhm, exactly what he said. i decided to quit."
"what?!" you exclaimed, reaching out your hands to place them on his cheek so you could turn his head and make him look at you, "but i told you, you don't have to do that."
"but i want to." steve's eyes finally found yours.
"why?"
steve instinctively moved his hands to your hips to pull you closer towards him, "because i can't miss out on kissing you."
you couldn't contain your smile as you let your thumbs softly caress his cheeks, "you're crazy, harrington."
"about you, yeah." steve returned your smile when he repeated the words you'd uttered to him earlier that night, "you know i'd do anything for you, sweets."
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