#stupid ass kick him into the sun

[avephelis]

littleguyification

[mispatchedgreens]

more from the reincarnated band au in the form of: sometimes you're just a girl who wants to have a nice lunch date w your partner, but then her incredibly rude coworker stalks in (bc he stalks everywhere) and then you realise you've miscalculated bc the shop is one block away from the gym and his appearance makes sense, he does leave the gym at this hour (you're annoyed that you know ouyang's routine). Some random jockman is trailing after him and ouyang appears as pleased as he is desperate to evade him, and they both sit down with you and you end up eating your noodles next to some sweaty guy you just met, while zhu and ouyang bicker gleefully at each other about music.

[solcarow]

.

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

[prettypinkporkchop]

I’m a paul girly can u please do one where Paul is grumpy because everyone is coupled up with their imprint and his is away for college but at the bonfire the girls surprise Paul with his imprint and he goes from a mean grumpy to a clingy sweetheart make it long pls I love u💕

I love you!!!!! ❤️

Paul kicks the log that's below him. Everyone that's lined up on the cliff turns to him. "Paul, lighten up." Embry says. "Shut up." Paul growls and charges at him, pushing him into the water. "Really?" Jared looks at him. "Fuck off, Jared." Paul rolls his eyes. Paul misses you so bad. He hates when you're away.

Everyone is at Emily's. She made the pack lunch. They're all eating inside the house. Paul is quiet, eating his sandwhich. "Dude! Imagine what'd it'd be like if Jacob and Renesmee had babies? I sense new drama." Embry laughs. Paul grumbles and rolls his eyes. "Hey, me and Kim are planning. Just saying." Jared raises his hands. "Nuh, uh! You're just stupid horny." Quil shoves him. They burst into laughter. Paul just sits there. "Paul Lahote. Don't be so rude. I know it sucks, but she's coming back soon!" Emily pats his back. He moves his shoulders around, wiggling her hand off of him. "Yeah. I know." He says.

Back outside, everyone is training. Even the Black pack. Leah is laughing, and just her laughter pisses off Paul. He's keeping his cool. "Bro, if I phase right now, I'm biting your ankle." Embry playfully pushes Quil. "Kinky." Quil smirks and then phases. He didn't even bother to take off his shorts. When he phases, he accidently bumps into Paul. Paul growls, loses his cool, and phases. Quil's wolf slowly backs away. Sam is calling out to Paul to chill out. Paul disregards Sam and starts attacking Quil.

It's been like this for weeks. Leah, Kim, and Emily are the only ones that know you are coming back tonight at the bonfire tonight. Right now, you're at the airport heading back home. Being away from Paul has been hard for you. You're getting excited at the fact that when you go home, the last two years of your schooling are online! Paul knows nothing! This is going to be the best surprise. "Forks!" The lady at the desk, taking tickets for the plane entry, calls out your destination. Only two other people follow suit. They don't look familiar, so obviously, it's just their layovers.

Emily looks at Sam because Paul just snapped at Seth for no reason. "Paul. I'm about to just send your ass home if you don't stop." Paul sighs and leans back in the chair, looking at the sun as it sets. The fire is warm on his legs, but all he can think about is you. Seth, being Seth, offers Paul a plate and a drink. "Yeah. Thanks." Paul said dryly. Seth feels so bad. He's the only one willing to deal with Paul's anger. Everyone else is over it but at the same time, feel bad. "You know she'll come back." Emily says. "I've got that. But when? I don't know. And she has to go right back. And it'll be like this for another two years." Paul growls. "You know it's hard for her too. You have to support her." Leah butt's in. "Jesus, Leah. You know I support her. She's at school, right?" He looks at her. She nods her head and walks away, going to talk to Kim. It's getting unbearable for Paul. Being away from an imprint is the toughest thing for a shifter. It's been two months of texting, phone calls, and video calls. You're gone for two months, back for two weeks. It's been like that for a year now. Every time you leave, Paul gets angrier and angrier.

Kim and Leah get in the truck and drive to the airport to wait for you. You'll be back in an hour or so. Paul sees Emily smirking at him and then Sam. "What is it?" Paul asks. "Nothing." She shakes her head. Paul just sighs, and Seth comes back with a plate of steak, potatoes, and muffins. In his other hand is a glass of coke. Paul takes it and nods at Seth. Paul starts scarfing it down.

You leave the terminal and go out to the open space. People are walking around you and you're trying to catch Leah and Kim.

You: girls! I'm near the entrance.

You text them. Not even a few minutes later, Kim in the distance spots you. The two women run to you. You run to them, too. Your fully packed backpack and duffle bag on your arm are heavy and bouncing. You tackle both of the women who hold their arms open. You three laugh and just about fall over. "Let me take this!" Leah smiles, grabbing your bag. "UGH! Thank you, life saver." You gush at Leah. "God, I've missed you guys." You sigh. "Paul has been a dick, as usual. I'm literally about to snap his neck." Leah laughs. You nod your head in agreement. "I can only imagine." You reply.

You girls get to Leah's truck. You sit in the back seat while Leah drives. "Nobody questioned why we left. Not even Jared!" Kim says offended. "Them rowdy boys wouldn't notice if the sun fell on them while they're together." Leah laughs. "True!" You call out. "How's Billy?" You ask. "He's doing good. Old man can't fall over. I swear he's invincible." Leah laughs. "Yes! I try to help him do stuff around the house, but he just shooes me and Emily off." Kim says. "So, typical Billy. What about Jake and Nessie?" You ask. Leah rolls her eyes. "The guy is barely even with us. Ever since they got their house, them two have been loners. He only comes out during get-togethers, wolf shit, and bonfires." Leah replies. As she says this, a car pulls out in front of you guys. She swerves to the side, making you hit your head on the window. "Shit! Asshole!" Leah honks her horn. Kim flips them off. You lean back up in your seat. "Geez." You laugh awkwardly. "We're stopping at Paul's so you can drop off your stuff and then going to the fire." Leah says, totally disregarding that you almost died.

You guys finally make it. You can see the smoke from the fire and orange in the distance in the yard. You can see the guys running around. You squint toward the fire and see Paul sitting in a chair by himself. You giggle at his sulking. "Wait, I didn't think this far." Kim laughs. "How do we surprise him?" She turns to Leah. "I have an idea!" You lift a finger. They turn to you. "I sneak up behind him, putting my hands in front of his eyes and pull a 'guess who'." They nod together and then clap their hands. "UGH! Finally, I can breathe!" Leah breathes out. You laugh at her dramatic self. You step out of the truck. You slowly walk your way behind Paul. "I can hear you creeping, and I'm not in the mood." Paul growls. You quickly put your hands in front of his eyes. "Fuck." He growls but then stops instantly as he smells your scent. "Guess who." You whisper. He doesn't hesitate to stand up, throw the chair that's in between you, and wrap his arms around you. You hold him back and breathe in what you've missed. Paul Lahote. He's back in your arms. "Oh my fucking god, my baby." He mumbles in your hair. "I fucking love you." He says. "I love you too, Paul." You reply. Then, there's loud clapping all around. You two pull away from each other and see everyone clapping. "How'd you even get here?!" He smiles at you. Before you can even answer, he grabs your face and kisses you roughly. You kiss him back and wrap your fingers around his wrists. His lips are soft, and the kiss is longing. You fall into it, moving your lips with his. You pull away and look into your man's eyes. "Leah and Kim picked me up. All of the girls knew." You reply, your thumbs running over his knuckles. "Damn it." He smiles, chuckling. He lifts you up and spins you around. "My girl." He laughs. You laugh along with him, and he sets you down. "Alright, we get it! Now, time to share her." Emily laughs, hugging you. Paul smiles, not giving any more attitude.

You hug everyone, and Paul refuses to leave your side. You love it! Considering, you refuse to leave his, too. Now you guys are sitting around the fire. Jake and Nessie showed up. You're sitting on his lap. His arms are around your waist. He leaves random kisses on your back and arm. He randomly squeezes and presses his cheek against your back as if you could disappear any moment. Once the fire talk is over, you turn to Paul. "I don't want you to go again." He frowns. "Baby, I have good news." You smile. "What?" His eyes widen and sparkle with hope. "My physical classes are over. I'm home now. They're online." You watch as his lips part, and he slowly begins to smile. "Oh my God. YES!" He holds you. You pull his face off of your chest and kiss him softly. He doesn't instantly kiss you back. Pulling away and going back in, over and over. Everyone is leaving you two at it.

After holding onto you for a hot while, Paul decides to apologize to his pack and play around with them. You sit down on the chair, chatting with Emily. "God, Paul is back." She sighs in relief. "I know! Even on the phone, he seemed off." You giggle. Paul grabs your shoulders suddenly and then kisses your head. "Alright, back off with the boys." He does this a few more times. He runs off to play with the guys and then runs to you to give you a quick kiss before running back.

You're typing away on your laptop while Paul is still in bed sleeping. You're on the couch with your legs crossed doing some work. You open the highlighter cap and swipe it across words on the thick ass book that sits next to you. The bedroom door opens, and there stands a quiet Paul. His sleep shorts are hanging low. He yawns and scratches the back of his neck. "Good morning, my baby girl." He says in his scratchy and low morning voice. He walks over to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Good morning, my love." You scrunch up your nose with a smile. He looks over your neck and chuckles. "You didn't leave hickeys last night, did you?" You sighed in annoyance. "Eh, maybe I got carried away." He clicks his tongue before walking into the kitchen. "Damn it, Paul." You turn on the camera on your phone and see three big purple bruises. "Emily asked me to come over today when you go over there." You say. "Good because you were coming with anyways." He smirks, pouring his milk into his cereal. You blush and then bite your lip. "AWE, no, don't do that. You'll get what you got last night again." He winks. You roll your eyes playfully. "And don't do that either." He warns, taking a bite of his cereal.

You're mixing the batter to Emily's cake. She licks some chocolate off her finger and flips through her recipe. "Girl, this will take hours!" She sighs. "Are you nervous? I mean, it's a wedding cake! That's a lot of pressure." You continue to mix. "Nah! It's a small wedding." She shrugs it off. "Woowoo!" You hear Embry and Quil. In walks everyone, including Jacob. "Surprised you're here." Emily smirks at him. "Hey, I had to see y/n again." He laughs. You smile at him. "Well, I'm here permanently." You say. Paul walks behind the counter and puts his arm around your waist, kissing your cheek. "Normally, I'd say get the hell out of my kitchen, but I'm giving you an exception today." Emily says to Paul. "Thank you, Emily!" He smiles. "Oh wow! A thank you!" Jared jokes. Paul flips him off with a smirk. "Don't hate the love." You laugh. You place the bowl down on the counter to finish up your assignment Emily gave you for the cake. Paul huffs and pulls you back into him. "Hey!" You giggle. "Alright, lover boy, let the girl bake." Emily pats his shoulder. Paul groans and nods his head, walking toward the group of guys. "Yes, ma'am." He says. "I could really get used to this." Emily laughs. Sam nods his head, crossing his arms. "Yes, much better." He laughs. "Paul, I have to show you this new trick I can do while jumping off the cliff!" Embry says. "I saw you do that shit, dude. You looked dumb." Jacob teases. "Aye now." Quil warns and wraps an arm around Embry. "Don't be mean to my boyfriend." He glares. "WOAHHHH WOOOAHHH WOKKAHHG." Embry shoves him off. "Emily! Can I give y/n one more kiss?" He begs. "Quickly." She says, putting one of the cake pieces into the oven. He jumps up and gets behind you while you put icing on the base of the cake. He kisses your head over and over before you turn your head and kiss him softly. He smiles and then sits back down. "Alright, alright. I'm done." He says. "Lover boy!" Jacob sings. "Oh, loverboy!" Jared follows Jacob. Paul glares at them. "I'll kick your asses. I'm not joking." He growls. They start laughing. "There's the hothead!" Jared ruffles his hair. Paul grabs his hand tightly. "Ow, ow, ow." Jared laughs.

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader (conner kent edition!)

quick warning: cursing, one (1) mention of a gun

Conner looks stupid.

He thought he looked good when he and Clark first left the house. Sure, he wasn’t in a three piece suit or nothing, but he had the button up and slacks! Though, he probably guesses his leather jacket cancels out the fancy image. God, why did he think this was a good idea? He is not meant for these Wayne galas.

He feels the heat creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears. The second people start looking, he just wishes he could fly away.

Clark was the one who initially asked him to come, but the one who convinced him was nowhere to be found. When he had told you he was thinking about coming, you had been so excited and practically begged him to follow through. He would, of course, but damn he wished you had been the one to ask him here in the first place. He wished you asked to come to these galas in general (you do, just not the way he wants).

Conner remembers the first time(s) he met you (both in and out of the mask). He met you, as in Damian’s twin sister, Bruce Wayne’s daughter, one of Jon’s best friends— that you, first. It was Jon’s birthday and he had invited his two best friends over to celebrate. They were Wayne kids, from what he had told Clark (which Conner had ‘overheard’), so obviously they were too cool for parties. Jon had all the faith in the world that those two would show up, and, to your credit, you did!

Oh, the first time Conner saw you he knew he was done for. Jon had practically ran outside when you and Damian showed up, and he got to see you as you both stepped into the house. You were slightly overdressed, nothing crazy but it was obvious that your definition of ‘party’ was very different to his. Only half an inch shorter than him* and as pretty as the sun, you truly were a sight to see. He could’ve sworn you looked at him a little longer than everybody else. Which, you did, but mostly cause you were trying to remember how familiar he looked (it’s cause you remembered he was Tim’s friend).

Then, he met you again. The all-black-and-red wearing, night-stalking, crime fighting vigilante— that you. He had been slinking around Gotham in the late hours of the night. When the sky went dark, save for the moon and stars, and the real bad guys and boogeymen came out to play. So dark and gloomy, the polar opposite of Metropolis.

He knew someone was in the alley he was walking past— of course he did! But honestly? He was bored out of his mind. So, he just pretended to be oblivious and walk by, waiting to see what would happen.

Conner wishes he could say it was a surprise that he was met with a gun pointed at his head. He can’t recall what exactly the guy said to him, but it was probably a threat about giving him his wallet.

No, he can’t remember that guy. But he does remember you. Now, at the time he didn’t know that it was pretty-girl-from-Jon’s-party you, but he did know that you looked really fucking cool when you took down that guy. A swift kick to disarm him, a punch to his face, and the guy was out! Damn, Batman’s kids really are strong, huh?

You turned to look at him, and he felt just a twinge of disappointment at seeing the helmet covering your face. But then you spoke to him and he almost swooned at your voice. Granted, it was a bit muffled and you may have used a voice synthesizer— but that doesn’t matter! You asked if he was okay! Ugh, you are just so considerate.

A quick warning to stay away from this corner of the city (and honestly every corner of the city), and you were off. He likes to reminisce about that day often. When he got home, he found himself smiling at the ceiling as he thought of you. Both you — little miss Wayne — and you — ass-kicker of the night. Later, when he put the two together, he liked that you guys had at least one thing in common.

Now he was here, at one of your family’s galas, looking for you. He could almost cry when he finally spots you. You look beautiful, as you always do, and you’re talking and smiling with a group of older women. ‘Of course,’ he thinks, ‘your family would probably throw any old man that comes near you out a window.’

But he can’t dwell on that thought for long. Not when he sees you for the first time tonight and feels almost desperate to be near you (what else is new?). So he begins to make his way to you, wiping his now sweaty palms on his pants.

You notice him approaching, because duh! He’s wearing his stupid leather jacket, which definitely makes him stick out like a sore thumbs. You excuse yourself quickly from those women.

“Conner,” He almost feels his breath catch in his throat. He’s seen you in so many outfits but somehow every single one gets him the same way. Maybe it’s not the outfits. “you came.” You say with a smile on your face.

He says your name back, the sound almost coating his throat and makes his tongue feel like lead. “I did,” he gives a smile back, one he hopes to be charming but knows to make him look like a dork. “You look” ‘Say beautiful!’ he urges in his head, “… nice.” ‘Damn it!’ “Like, really nice.”

You let out a breath, one he can recognize as amusement. “Thank you. You dress up well.” You reply, though he catches the look you give his jacket. He feels heat crawling up his neck and painting the tips of his ears. It only gets worse as you brush your hand over his bicep. Brushing off dust or coping a feel, he wouldn’t mind either honestly. Any touch of yours makes him feel like he’s going to faint.

“It, uh,” he leans in a bit, that same dorky grin on his face, “It’s a part of my look.” He thinks you’re the only girl to make him nervous.

Your eyes hold a mixture of amusement and skepticism, a slight furrow of your eyebrows and a widening of your own smile. “Your look, right. Well you’ve certainly found a way to stand out from the crowd. Congratulations, that’s no small feat.”

And now you’re teasing him. God, he really likes you, doesn’t he? “Why, thank you.” He gives a small bow and thanks his super hearing for being able to pick up on the slightest chuckle leaving your lips. “Are there any snacks here?” He asks after standing up. He could just make idle conversation, but it’s more likely that you won’t get stolen away if you’re showing him the ropes.

“They’re called hors d'oeuvres” ‘Yeah, whatever you say, beautiful’ “and yes, we have them,” You take his arm (holy shit you take his arm) and start guiding him wherever.

Alright, Conner admits, maybe he doesn’t look that stupid.

*realistically, given Bruce and Talia’s heights, reader would be about 5’8.5, while Conner is 5’9 canonically. the only reason this is here is bc i want tall girl rep tbh, so just ignore it if you want, it’s not important

merry early christmas (if you celebrate), here’s a gift! this is my first ever attempt at writing an actual ‘story’ (one shot? blurb? idk these terms guys help) so i hope it’s alright.

i kinda want to characterize conner as like a cocky smartass who loses that cockiness around the girl he likes. because! why not! i just think it’s cute

and dw if you don’t want conner as the only love interest, cause i assure you there will be more (blame it on the wayne genes tbh LMAO)

as always, any comments, requests, criticism, anything! is appreciated greatly. happy holidays, bye byeeeee ❤️

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 12

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11

He’s got to be heading to the quarry, right? That’s where he goes on Wednesday’s after school to sell his stash, he’d told Steve so umpteen notes back. Steve’s poured over each one enough times to damn-near have the things memorized.

He’s in his car, speeding fast enough that if Hopper catches his ass, he’ll be hauled into a jail cell before he can even make it. Steve pushes his foot down on the pedal harder, trying to eke out any last bit of speed.

When he reaches his destination, Carver’s car is parked sideways across the dirt road that leads off to the quarry, blocking anyone else from entering. Steve slams on his breaks, kicking up dirt all around him, obscuring his view of the windshield.

He steps out into it, dust gritting up his eyes. The only way out is through, so he heads toward the sound of raised voices, stumbling over a raised root as he goes.

He can just barely make out the words now.

“—leave her alone, or you’re dead, do you hear me?” Carver’s not yelling, but when he comes into view, his eyes are hard, and he’s clutching at Eddie’s t-shirt with enough force that he’s holding his knees off the ground.

There’s blood on Eddie’s face, dripping down off it and staining the dirt beneath him.

Steve doesn’t think. “Hey!” he calls, rushing forward to insert himself between them, but before he can, Carver drops Eddie into an ungainly heap on the ground and spins around to face Steve.

Steve lets him; if his eyes are on him, then he’s not looking at Eddie.

“Harrington?” Carver asks, shoulders slumping like Steve’s a friendly, not one wrong move from popping him one in the nose. “What are you—”

“Why don’t you get the hell out of here before the cops show?” Steve asks, using his Team Captain voice.

Steve watches it land. Carver’s shoulder slump, and he looks over Steve’s shoulder at where he’d abandoned his car. But then Eddie spits a glob of blood onto the ground, and Carver’s face shores up into something vicious.

“He was going to ask your girlfriend out, I heard all about it from his little friend!” Carver spits, like the words hurt as they come out of his mouth. “You should thank me on hands and knees!”

“I bet you’d love him on his knees,” Eddie cuts in, words slurring worryingly together.

Carver turns back toward Eddie, face gone almost translucent in the light of the afternoon sun. “Why, you—“

“Shut up, man,” Steve says, finally looking away from Carver to where Eddie’s on his knees, partially obscured by Carver’s body.

Eddie looks up at Steve, defiant as he spits a glob of saliva and blood into the dirt again then wipes his mouth with a shaking hand.

Steve stares down at him, stomach twisting in on itself as Eddie’s glare only intensifies. There hadn’t been much in his eyes when he’d been looking at Carver, but when he’s looking at Steve? That’s rage, barely banked by what must be a killer concussion. Steve turns away from it, unable to bear it a moment longer.

“What’s the point of this?” Steve asks Carver, the exhaustion he’s starting to feel leaking into his voice.

“Chrissy doesn’t need—”

“Chrissy is an adult who doesn’t need either of us fighting her battles for her,” Steve cuts in. “Besides, they’re friends.”

Carver’s mouth curls in on itself. “She would never be friends with this f—”

“She’d kick your ass herself if she heard you talking about Munson like that.”

Carver turns his back on Eddie entirely, glaring at Steve like they’re in some sort of quick-draw stand-off in a stupid Western. Steve’s tired of this guy and all his hate, he’s tired of people he loves being hurt, tired of having to be Chrissy’s shield against the asshole in front of him, and Robin’s shoulder to cry on, and going home to an empty fucking house.

He’s just tired.

It’s a relief when Eddie stands on his own two feet, legs visibly shaking but holding his weight. Because nothing will ever stop Eddie from being Eddie, he claps like Steve and Jason are kindergartners and he’s their beleaguered teacher sent to corral them.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eddie says, grinning around the blood in his teeth. “But there’s only so much jock on jock violence I can take before I break out in hives. So, can I go?”

He throws a taunting thumb over his shoulder where his van’s parked closer to the cliff’s edge, turning to stumble toward it without another word. Carver and Steve both rush to stop him for opposing reasons.

“I’m not done with you,” Carver hisses.

Steve grabs his shoulder, yanking him hard enough to send him stumbling back a few steps. “Leave it, Carver, or I’ll ruin you.”

“What the hell could you even do?” Carver demands.

Steve stares him down, dead-eyed and entirely fed up. “I can tell Chrissy what you did, and she’ll lose what little respect she had for you. Then? I’ll have a meeting with Coach and get you kicked off the team. Then, who knows, maybe I’ll plant drugs in your locker, shave your head while you’re sleeping, vandalize school property in your name. Do you really want to stick around and find out what else I can think of?”

Carver holds his gaze for another, endless second before turning away and slinking back the way he came. Steve watches until Carver starts his own car, swerved recklessly close to Steve’s own parked car, and sped away.

When he turns back, Eddie’s nowhere to be seen. He slinks toward his van, unwilling to spook the guy further if he doesn’t need to.

He’s in the driver’s seat of his van, cursing as his shaking hands fumble with the keys, missing again and again as he tries to jam it into the keyhole.

“You can’t drive,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie still jumps, dropping the keys into the well beneath his feet as he snaps his head up, eyes wide and pupils eating up his face. There’s a bruise already swelling up his eyes, and blood caked beneath his nose. He looks a downright mess.

“Here to finish what your buddy started?” Eddie asks, showing off his bloody teeth again in a grin, as if Steve can’t see him shaking.

Steve shakes his head, throat clogged with too many words to name. What comes out is, “you’re not supposed to drive with a concussion.”

Eddie, tellingly, does not argue the concussion, but his bared teeth are starting to look more like a snarl as he replies, “I’m not leaving my van here.”

Steve stares at him. He’s sweating, with injury or panic, Steve’s not sure. There’s dirt in his hair, like before Steve had arrived, Jason had him on the ground, glossy curls pressed into the dirt. Steve clenches his hands into fists the more he sees. His t-shirt is black, but there’s a rip at its hem that Steve doesn’t think was there before.

He aches to reach through the open window and touch that busted face, find the split in his lip, clear the blood from beneath his nose.

Instead, he opens the driver’s side door, feeling like absolute scum as Eddie shuffles away, eyes wide as he presses himself as far away as possible as Steve climbs in.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, voice all wobbly.

Steve bends down to pick up the keys where Eddie had dropped them. He slides the key home and Eddie’s van tick tick ticks itself to life. When Eddie’s music blares, Steve reaches across to turn the dial down, ignoring Eddie’s flinch at his movement.

“Taking you home.”

Eddie’s van is bigger then he’s used to driving, the ride bumpier as he turns around and slides carefully past his own car, his keys probably still abandoned in the driver’s seat somewhere.

Hopefully it’ll still be there when he comes back for it.

*** 

“Did Chrissy put you up to this?” Eddie asks, voice small, small, small.

Harrington’s shoulders slump, clenched fingers loosening on the steering wheel. He sighs, long and loud, perfect hair rustling with the movement.

“Robin, actually,” he replies, lips tucked up into a facsimile of a smile.

Robin, Robin, Robin, does he know a Robin? His brain’s not working, too scrambled up inside. Eddie’s entire face aches as he scrunches it up in thought before cutting that shit out. No thinking for him until some of this heals. Still, he worries against the name, until, “Buckley?” comes out of his mouth.

Harrington smiles, warmer this time. “Yeah, she saw Carver following you.”

“And went to you?” Eddie asks, voice squeaking embarrassingly on the last word.

Harrington doesn’t answer, but his hands clench tight enough against the steering wheel that his knuckles turn white.

Eddie resolves himself to shutting the fuck up for the rest of the drive.

“How do you know where I live?”

“You’re…loud, dude,” Harrington says, pulling into Eddie’s empty driveway. Harrington’s right, he is loud. It still sounds like a lie. “Is your uncle home?”

Eddie squints, busted eye bursting with pain as he asks, “how do you know I live with my uncle?”

Harrington raises his eyebrow, clearly saying “you’re loud, dude,” again without even needing to open his mouth. Eddie kind of hates him for it.

“He’s on a fishing trip,” Eddie sighs.

Without another word, Harrington turns off the engine and slides out of the van, shutting the door gently behind himself. He rounds the front of the van and Eddie sits, stupefied in his seat as Harrington pulls open the passenger side door and holds his hand out like Eddie’s some swooning maiden. Feeling flustered and frustrated in turns, Eddie slaps his hand away and steps out of his van on his own two feet, slamming the door closed behind him.

Harrington doesn’t move out of the way as Eddie storms past, their shoulders banging into each other makes Eddie’s teeth rattle painfully in his bruised skull. He only remembers he doesn’t have his keys when he’s standing in front of his front door, hand empty.

He stares down at it, betrayed.

His house keys jingle in Harrington’s hand as he steps up beside him. Without even a by your leave, he inserts the key into the hole and twists, inexplicably choosing the right key on the first try. Is Steve Harrington a mind reader?

Harrington pushes the door open and holds it open for Eddie, as if it’s not his house they’re walking into.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie demands, standing on his own front porch like a loser as Harrington bends down and takes his sneakers off.

He lines them up neatly by the wall like he’s staying in The Ritz or something and doesn’t want to stain the dingy carpet.

“Taking my shoes off?”

“No!” Eddie wails, clutching handfuls of his hair, beyond frustration and into something that feels a lot like hysteria. “What are you doing here?”

Straightening up, Harrington stares down at Eddie where he’s still standing on his own porch. He looks incredulous, as if Eddie’s the one who’d saved him from getting killed by some jock, and Eddie’s the one who followed him home after like a lost puppy.

Like Eddie’s the one that doesn’t quite fit in the trailer park, and not Steve Harrington with his squeaky white shoes and ironed polo, and luscious hair, and skin that’s all sun-kissed even as summer’s barely a memory in a little girl’s eye.

“Your uncle’s not home.”

Eddie stares, gobsmacked. What the fuck are they putting in the water in Loch Nora, Jesus Christ! “So?!”

Harrington squints at him again, his aloof cool-guy shtick finally breaking to show the judgmental mean girl barely hidden beneath. “You’re totally concussed, dude,” Steve replies, a King handing down a decree to his loyal subjects. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t like, die.”

Eddie, never one to follow anyone’s decrees but his own, immediately starts bitching. “So, what? You’re playing home invader until someone comes to relieve you?”

He nods, smiling down at Eddie like he’s a puppy who finally learned not to piss on the carpet. Fed up with being a rung lower, Eddie takes that last step up onto the stoop and brushes past Harrington into his own goddamn house.

Harrington shuts and locks the door behind him.

Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor for the first time in his life, Eddie continues further into the trailer without turning around, not stopping until he’s got the bathroom door as a barrier between his vulnerable back and the latest interloper.

The light hurts his eyes as he flicks it on. His face hurts worse, and he can see why, now. One of his eyes is well on its way to swelling shut, a deep red bleeding into purples the farther out it goes. There’s blood beneath his nose, and it’s ballooning out making him look like some old lady’s prized pug. There’s a split going straight through his lip from Carver’s class ring.

He looks like an extra in a horror movie; the guy who’s about to make the sacrifice play because he’s not going to make it. And yeah, maybe there’s a little melodrama in the thought, but Eddie’s pretty sure he deserves it at this point.

God, what a day.

As punctuation to his own thoughts, someone knocks quietly on the door. Eddie’s ribs ache as his shoulders slump, head hanging damn-near into the dirty sink.

“Eddie?” There’s a moment of silence where Eddie’s response is supposed to be. He doesn’t heed it. “Can I come in?”

Eddie groans, loud enough that it’s gotta be audible through the tissue-paper door between them. “Why?” he says–whines pitifully, really.

“I want to check your injuries.”

Eddie, against his better judgment, cracks the door open wide enough to peer through. “What’s it to you, Dr. Harrington?” he asks, that same question wrapped up in a new package. Why are you here, why do you care, what do you want from me?

Harrington just smiles, and pushes at the door with just enough force that Eddie has no choice but to back up and let his unwanted guest in.

He takes Eddie’s face in his hands, rubbing gentle fingers against each wound, murmuring soothing placations. It works enough that Eddie stands still as Harrington sanitizes and bandages each of his wounds.

“You should ice them after this, okay?”

Eddie nods dumbly because Harrington’s moved on from painfully prodding his face to running his fingers through his hair, checking every inch of his skull for bumps and bruises.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?” he asks.

Eddie hums, relaxing against his will, body slumping into the cupboard behind him as those nimble fingers have their way with him.

“My ribs, maybe,” Eddie murmurs, eyes closing as Harrington’s fingernails scrape against his scalp before he withdraws his fingers.

His eyes snap back open a second later when those same fingers yank his shirt up without asking, warm palms chasing away the chill on his skin as they skirt over his ribcage, applying gentle pressure to whatever Harrington finds. Eddie shivers involuntarily as Harrington bends down, breath puffing against his stomach.

“Wh—what are you doing?” Eddie asks, stuttering over every other word.

He’s clenched up tight enough that his whole body aches with it—spine, jaw, wrists. But then Harrington looks up at him, usually impeccable hair softened by the day and flopping gently into his face. Eddie always assumed his eyes were brown, but they look sort of gold in the shitty fluorescent light of the bathroom.

He’s never been this close to Harrington before.

“Checking your ribs,” he replies, breath puffing against Eddie’s uncovered skin with every word. “Does that hurt?”

And then he just dismisses Eddie in favor of palpitating what must be a nasty bruise. Eddie whines, inexplicably, embarrassingly, before squeaking out a tiny, “no,” when Harrington looks back up at him with his big, worried, puppy-dog eyes.

Eddie’s own words to Carver make a reappearance, flashing red in neon lights inside his empty skull—I bet you’d love him on his knees. He’s on them now, between Eddie’s spread thighs, looking at Eddie’s body with an intensity that’s skinning him alive.

His skull’s not empty now; it’s bursting with half-formed thoughts, and panicked wheezing he hopes is just internal, and through it all, the words run rampant—on his knees, on his knees, on his knees.

Steve Harrington stands up, takes a step back, and smiles at Eddie. “I think they’re just bruised,” he says, seeming not to notice Eddie’s ragged breathing. “We should ice them, too.”

And then he just…walks out of the bathroom like Eddie’s not full to bursting with thoughts and feelings he doesn’t understand. Like it wasn’t Harrington that had dropped them at his feet—on his knees.

*** 

Steve sticks his head into Eddie’s freezer and resists the urge to scream. It’s just—Eddie had been blushing when Steve had looked up from checking his ribs for cracks. Steve’s never seen him blush before, and it’s seared into his brain (the way it’d started from his ears and meandered across his cheeks before slowly spreading its splotchy hue down his neck).

For a second, it was almost like Eddie didn’t hate him.

Steve suppresses the thought. Boys shouldn’t have crushes on straight boys who hate their guts, and letting even the tiniest flutter of hope touch his heart would be stupider still. There’s his silly little notes, and there’s his pining little glances.

He doesn’t need anything else.

“Are…you okay?” Eddie’s hesitant voice comes from behind him.

Abruptly remembering his position, Steve pulls his head out of the freezer and grabs the first bag he sees: a half-full package of frozen peas. He turns to Eddie with the best smile he can manage, holding them up as explanation for the unasked What the hell are you doing? hidden beneath the bemused smile on Eddie’s lips.

“Just finding you some ice, dude,” Steve replies breezily, walking over to drop the bag into Eddie’s hand.

“Uh, thanks?” he replies, walking past Steve to close the freezer he’d left open. Steve winces. “You can like, go now.”

It’s a demand hidden beneath a polite question. Steve’s feet start moving toward the door before he remembers the lump he’d felt on the back of Eddie’s head, and the way his eyes had gone all glassy and dazed in the bathroom as Steve had patched him up.

“Unless you want to call someone else, you’re stuck with me until your uncle gets here.” Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but Steve holds up his hands palm out, forestalling his complaints. “Possible concussion, dude.”

Eddie whines, actually stamping his foot squeakily against the linoleum of the kitchen floor. Steve smiles, helplessly endeared, and hates himself for it.

“Why is it your problem if I nod off in my sleep, you don’t even like me.”

The warm feelings flee like they’d never been there at all.

Steve turns his back on Eddie’s petulant frown and stomping feet, unwilling to look him in the eye as the emotions crash through him. Just for a second, he lets his face drop.

“I like you, just fine,” Steve replies, ignoring the little scoff from Eddie in reply.

The trailer’s small and crowded with things on damn-near every surface, but it’s cozy. Steve’s imagined this moment—getting through the Munson’s front door and finally seeing what’s inside. It’s warm, a hot cup of tea, a blanket on a cold night, somewhere to feel safe in.

All Steve feels is cold.

Instead of answering Eddie’s scoff, Steve lets his own little tantrum stomps lead him over to the ratty couch. He sinks down, crossing his legs as he leans back into the cushions, and finally, finally looks at Eddie. He’s still pouting, bottom lip having split open against the pressure of his frown. Steve raises a pointed eyebrow before turning back around to stare at the black of the TV screen.

Eddie groans again, and it takes all his willpower not to turn around, not to let his shoulders curl in as he hears footsteps coming closer. But, all Eddie does is settle onto the other side of the couch and grab the remote.

It’s going to be a long night. 

PART 13

[evie-sturns]

skinny dip - Chris Sturniolo

summary: where a late night beach trip with your boyfriend chris turns into skinny dipping with him.

contains: fluff, swearing, skinny dipping, a bit short cause i’m busy as shit.

————————————-🌊————————————-

8:55pm

i lay a pink striped towel across the cool sand, the entire beach is completely empty except for chris and i.

chris flops down on the towel,

“chris! you’ve put sand all over it!” i groan,

he almost giggles, a stupid grin on his face as he lays back on his elbows.

i huff sarcastically before sitting down beside him,

the sun rests on the horizon, creating a glaring sunset.

“you know, this sunset is almost as beautiful as you.” he smirks,

i burst out laughing, “you are such a cornball oh my god.” i say in between laughs as i clasp a hand over his mouth.

“what!! i thought that was a good one!” he pouts, trying to hold back a smile.

i wrap my arms around his waist and cuddle close to his side, resting my head in the crook of his arm.

a peaceful silence stays between the two of us, the only sounds being the waves crashing on the shoreline, alongside seagulls squawking.

“did i ever tell you about my fear of seagulls?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“no….” i say back, my eyebrow quirking up.

“oh god, well when i was like 6 or something at this beach, matt decided to throw his whoooole lunch into the sand and all the seagulls came down and took over our setup”

“you are JOKING.” i laugh, he shakes his head

“i wish i was.”

i giggle before sitting up,

-

10:56pm

by now the sun has almost fully set

the water looks crystal clear from what i can see, and the moon is casting light on the water.

the waves are small and clean, and i’m overheating on this towel.

“chris.” i say,

he looks up at me with a small hum,

“i wanna go swimming.” i state, he shakes his head,

“we can go back to the house for swimsuits, but i didn’t bring ‘em.” he replies,

“let’s just skinny dip then i don’t know!” i grin,

he laughs it off as a joke,

“no actually, just think-“ i start but chris cuts me off

“last one in the water is a rotten egg.” he says,

“you are an ACTUAL child.” i reply with,

i look over at him and he’s frantically tugging his shirt off,

i pull mine off, discarding it on the towel, my bra follows shortly after.

i scramble up onto my feet and undo my shorts, letting them fall to my ankles, doing the same with my panties.

just then i see chris charging past me, his feet kicking up sand as he runs down the beach.

i almost fall over the towel as i run after him, catching up to him.

our loud laughs fill the empty beach as he wraps his hands around my waist, picking me up as he keeps running,

“chris!” i squeal, he throws me over his shoulder as he runs into the water with us.

the waves hit his knees forcefully, causing us both to tip over into the sea.

he finally lets me go, i float up to the surface where chris is spluttering out water.

“i think i just drank half the ocean-“ he coughs,

“that wouldn’t of happened if you didn’t snatch me up!” i laugh, looking at chris.

his features are barely lit up from the lack of light, but i can see the outline of him.

the water sloshes around my waist,

chris reaches behind me and grabs my ass, picking me up, i wrap my legs behind his back.

suddenly he launches me two meters in the opposite direction, i scream as i hit the water.

he ducks under the water as swims over to me, grabbing my leg.

i squeal, he comes up to the surface with a wide smile,

“christopher- i swear to god i thought you were a shark i’m gonna kill you.” i breathe heavily, inspecting his face as he holds back a laugh.

“i’m sorry for scaring you sweetheart.” he grins, grabbing my hand.

my teeth chatter together, “are you cold?” he asks,

i nod, he spins around and i jump on his back.

i slide down his bare back as he attempts to take us out of the water,

he finally makes it up onto the sand, and i slide fully off of him, my back hitting the sand

“oh-“ he says, looking back as i lay in the dry sand.

he flops down beside me, the sand sticking to our wet bodies.

he rolls over to me, coating himself fully in sand

“you’ve made it worse!” i smile, he pulls me close to his waist and press a kiss to my lips

“i love you” he pecks kisses all over my face,

“love you to.” i grin, taking handfuls of sand and sprinkling it on his chest

———-

@jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow w @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz z z 0 @ratatioulle @sturnsforlife e v @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos

[froggybells]

So what’s the deal?

Sanemi x fem!reader

a/n: HI I AM BACK AGAIN this time my wonderful boy sanemi needs some love. he might b a little ooc but i like to think he wouldn’t resist a beautiful woman (wink wink) reader is totally a tease bc i feel like he would totes get flustered LOL

synop: amidst hashira practice, you get the bright idea to tease sanemi.

Word count: 1k

Part 2 —> here

Part 3 —> here

The first time Sanemi Shinzugawa laid eyes on you, we saw you as nothing more than a pest- always getting into things that you shouldn’t, and seemingly oblivious to the obvious irritation you caused him. He couldn’t help but wonder why no one else shared his frustrations. 

Soon something changed. His feelings of irritation soon changed into some sort of possessiveness- needing to make sure you weren’t hurt because it’s obvious your dont know how to take care of yourself. 

“Shinazugawa! I don’t understand why I can’t go practice with Tomioka? I was walking by yesterday and saw you trying to kill him! I’m a Harshira too, damnit!” You yelled at him. 

“He’s too weak for you to practice with! Plus, you’re too idiotic to do things on your own.” Sanemi stated firmly, giving you a glare. He doesn’t care if you’re a Hashira, he’ll still treat you like an idiot. 

“I’m literally the first sun breather in generations!” You said, pointing your wooden sword at him. “Does that not make me powerful enough for you?!” You sighed, rubbing your temples. Suddenly, you looked at him with a sly smirk on your face. That couldn’t be good, you thought. 

“Sanemi,” He flinches at the use of his first name, “Let’s make a deal.” He pauses, a deal? He’s definitely curious at your offer. What kind of deal could you make? “And why would I agree to that?”

You scoffed. “No matter how you act, you still respect me and my strength.” He turned his head away. “Tch- fine. I’ll agree to your stupid deal, but it better not be a waste of my time.”

”Let’s do a real practice battle. Not training. If I win, you’ll let me battle with Giyuu,” God, you using his first name made his blood boil, “If you win, well, you can decide the punishment.”

A hint of a smirk appeared on his face. A practice battle? This was going to be easy. “Alright dumbass, you’re on. You won’t win. Not against me.” You drew your wooden sword, getting into proper position. “Let’s get this over with.”

He laughed at you, “Don’t cry about getting your ass kicked when I’m done! Got it?” You charged quickly, ignoring his words, landing a blow to his knee and chest, quickly zipping away. He hisses in both pain and annoyance, but quickly regains his composure, a smirk on his face as he watched you zip away. “You have some speed, I’ll give you that much. Let’s see if you can do it again!” He barked.

He took off after you, aiming for your leg, but you jump quickly. “Too slow ‘Nemi!” You got a hit on the back of his head, knocking him over. 

He lands on the ground with a thump, groaning in pain before quickly scrambling to his feet. ‘Damnnit,’ he thought, ‘She’s a lot faster than she lets on.”

“Don’t give up yet Sanemi! Come at me!” In a flash, he’s over to you within a second, hitting you in the stomach. The force knocks you over, hailing a cloud of dust. 

His vision now clouded, he couldn’t see where you ran off to. “I”m ending this here!” You yell, kicking his back, forcefully knocking him over. “I win!” You gleam, now sitting on his back. 

“Get off me dumbass!” He screams as you kick his sword away. “Nope.” You say, popping the P. “I said get off me, damnit!” You smirk at his words. “Oh yeah? What’ll you give me in return?” He struggles some more, groaning in annoyance as he can barely move. He let’s out a scoff, narrowing his eyes at you. “What do you want, you brat? I’ll give you anything, just get the hell off me!”

You look down on him. “You have to go on a date with me.”

His face turned red. “What?!” He sputters. You have to be joking, there’s no way you’d seriously as him that. “You want me to go on a date with you? Seriously?”

“As serious as I’ll ever be! Can’t our just imagine it! Us strolling around under the cherry blossoms? It’ll be beautiful!” A slight blush dances around your face. He feels a slight fluttering sensation in his stomach- seeing you blush like that was weirdly cute to him. But nonetheless, he was still surprised. why would you want to go on a date with him?

”You really want to go out on a date with me?” He questions, looking up at you, a slight flush on his cheeks from embarrassment. “Of course ‘Nemi! You’re attractive, I’m attractive. You’re strong, I’m stronger. We would make the perfect pair! So what do you say,” You finally step off of his back, helping him to stand up. “Will you go on a date with me?”

The red tinge on his face darkens as you help him up, standing at his full height. He looks down at you, his expression slightly vulnerable. He lets out a huff, not being able to look you in the eye. “Fine, I’ll go on a date with you. Dammit, you’re so stubborn! But just this once, got it?”

”Just this once!” You lean in to whisper in his ear. “Unless you beg for more~” You tease at him. You begin to walk away, a dark crimson staining his face. “Well then, I’m off to my estate! I’ll be back in the morning to discuss our arrangement!” You wave goodbye, not looking back. The truth is, your face was just as red as his, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you this way.

”Damn Woman.” He mutters in frustration.

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain.

this one was kind of short, but heres part two! smut and rosie lore to come soon!

series masterlist here

part two: you ought’a wear sunscreen, lovie

Simon lay in the large cold bed of the guest room he had been provided about a week after his arrival to the cabin, wide awake. The sun was just starting to come up and he hadn’t yet slept, hadn’t even tried. How could he when you were in the room next to him snuggled up into your mound of blankets on the bed? He cursed John out when he had called him after his arrival. How had he left you out of the details when he’d coaxed him into coming to the cabin? ‘Forgoht ‘bout her, pretty little one, ain’t she?’ He had chuckled into the other end of the phone. ‘S’only for a couple o’months, LT, s’long as you’re nice to ‘er she’ll keep your belly full and your clothes clean.’ He hung up after that, and hadn’t picked up any of Simon’s calls or answered a message since.  

Forgot about her, Simon scoffed just thinking about it. He didn’t believe it for a second. How could Price possibly forget about the shy, beautifully curvy, unmated, impossibly adorable Omega he paid to be a live-in housekeeper for the cabin he conveniently sent his unmated, typically uncontrollable problem Alpha to vacation in? He smelled matchmaking all over it and he hated it. 

‘But it’s working.’ Simon grunted, rolling onto his side in hopes that his inner monologue would get the memo to shut up. ‘It’s working and you know it’ And goddess, he did. It was working. She was beautiful, and so deliciously plump and he wanted to kick himself for being an ass when he first spoke to her. He wanted to kick himself for wanting nothing more than to mark her, rub his scent all over her, keep her barefoot and fat and round with his pups. He wanted to kick himself for the way he felt his cock grow hard at just the thought of putting his pups in her. He was better than that, wasn’t he? 

He wanted to kick himself for the way that he already felt protective over her, as if he had already mated and impregnated her. As if they were already married. He felt himself wanting to be no more than an arms length away from her and he barely spoke to her. She dropped a knife while she was loading the dishwasher after supper the night before and he could have cried when he heard her mumble and ‘ow’ and bend down to rub her foot. ‘Should’ve been me, should’ve been me, should’ve been me’ He had heard his wolf chant over and over in his head and he had to really work to remember that he was an extremely disciplined man because without barely a thought he almost launched himself over the kitchen island to make sure you were okay. His fist clenched at just the memory of it. 

He could’ve cried when he heard your soft moan filter through the thin walls of the cabin, you were waking up and he would be subject to another day of breathing in your scent, of wanting to protect and hold you and not being able to.. ‘And why aren’t we able to? What’s stopping you?!” That voice again. That stupid stupid wolf trying to take over his rational sided mind. 

What was stopping him?

Nothing physically, he presumed. Aside from himself…it was always himself. The memories of watching his Alpha father and how he treated his Omega mother..of not feeling like a good enough Alpha himself because he couldn’t always protect her. Couldn’t always stop him..how could he possibly be good enough to protect this sweet little thing that was being dangled in front of him? You didn’t deserve inadequacy. He doesn’t deserve you. You want to bury your ugly mug between her legs..she made you a fucking pot roast and homemade desserts and you don’t deserve her? He’d never wanted to shut the wolf up more. 

You moved as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb Simon in the room next door as you shuffled through the room, gathering fresh panties and a pretty little sundress for the day before making your way to the bathroom across the hall. The shower head spits out hot water almost immediately and you sigh, dropping your overly large sleep shirt to the floor as you step in, moaning as the steamy water rolls over your tense shoulders. You hadn’t been sleeping very well, images of your Papa floating behind your eyelids every time you closed them, causing you to toss and turn or wake up in a fright if you had managed to even fall asleep. 

You hum as you wet your head, massaging shampoo into it as you try to scrub the images and dreams from your mind, leaving you in a better mood by the time you’re done. 

By the time you step out it had been nearly an hour since you’d stepped in, your skin exfoliated and smooth, shining even. Your hair washed and conditioned, soft and silky and wrapped in a towel above your head where it would stay until you were ready to blow dry it in your bedroom, sat in front of your vanity. You take the time to lather your body in lotion, a cozy smelling one that moisturized your already smooth and shining skin before you slipped into your panties and tightened the little corset on the back of your sundress. 

It was a white number, with little roses on it that fell to just above your ankles and showed off plenty of cleavage. The skin of your chest was already red from the sun the other day when you were out in the garden, tending to the vegetables while Simon lounged in the living room (though unbeknownst to you he had spent the whole time watching your every move out of the window next to the plush armchair he had taken post in, waiting for something to happen so he could jump to your rescue), you had forgotten your sunblock again and the hat you wore atop your head did nothing to help protect your delicate skin from the blistering rays of the summer sun. 

A part of you wondered what Simon would think of the dress, and as you thought it your cheeks flushed, making you hurry across the hall back to your room to finish getting ready before he caught you, you could hear him rumbling around the other guest room, you were sure he’d be wanting the bathroom any moment now. 

Another hour passes before you decide that you’re ready to leave the sanctuary of your room, hair braided and tied with a cream colored ribbon, glasses on your face instead of your normal contacts (your eyes were bugging you, your head pounding - which in hindsight probably was a warning that your heat was coming) and a bit of makeup splattered across your face, presentable to the public..to Simon..

He’s already in the kitchen when you hit the stairs, you can smell the coffee starting to brew and hear the clumsy sound of him tinkering around in there, muttering to himself, though what he’s muttering about you’re unsure, not able to make out the words exactly. “Simon?” You question, stepping down off of the final stair, headed for the coat rack to grab your purse and your big sunhat. 

“Ye-” He choked on his own words and you turned to see if maybe he had burned himself with the coffee, not expecting to find him staring at you, wide eyed under his mask. You cock your head to the side, concerned, purse dangling from your hands as you make to step towards him. “You..uh..” He he clears his throat, closes his eyes for a second before looking at you again. “You look..pretty..” He says, and almost as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel your cheeks begin to heat, averting your eyes as you fidget with your skirt. “Did you need somethin’, Lovie?” 

It’s your turn to stutter and choke now, and you do, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times before you remember what you had begun to say in the first place. “I was just going to see if you wanted to go into town with me?” He thinks we’re pretty! He thinks we’re pretty! Your wolf howls in your already aching head, causing you to wince just the littlest of bits. “I need to grab a few things from the market..thought maybe you might want to get out..” When he doesn’t respond right away you panic, and word vomit starts to come out, not even realizing you’ve cut him off from speaking. “I mean of course, only if you want to..it’s stupid of me to assume that you even want to leave, i guess you’re technically on vacation right? How silly to think that you’d want to leave the house..anyway i’ll just be gone a few hours..” 

He’s got his back turned to you by the time you’re finished, fishing for something in a drawer. You dumb ditzy bitch! You’ve ruined it! Ruined! “You outght’a put on some sunscreen, lovie..” He says, turning around with a tube of it in his large hand. Oh! He’s so thoughtful! He’s so sweet! Providing for us like a good alpha! Can we thank him? Can we kiss him? Please, please, please!!! “S’long walk into town, s’awful sunny out..” Before you know it, his large palm is smathering a layer of the thick lotion onto your bare skin, grazing the top of your breasts. Your face is on fire, heat rushing to it, though you can’t look away from him, his brown eyes on yours as he works it in. “There ye’go, can’t have this delicate skin puckering up out there, can we?” His touch is lingering, caressing even, and you open your mouth to say something but before anything can even come out he’s opened the door, sun shining down as he ushers you out, hand going to your lower back as he steps out after you. 

The walk into town was a long one, and while you typically didn’t mind it, it felt even longer with the presence of him by your side. A tall, silent shadow right next to you, and if you stood on the right side of him he did more sun blocking than your hat ever did. You talked enough for the both of you though, and though you were sure you were annoying him with your endless babbling about the things you needed to buy and why, he was kind enough to grunt and throw in the occasional ‘yeah’ or ‘wow’ in where it seemed needed. You didn’t mind, though you were finally slowing down on the word vomit once you neared town, you found yourself instinctually moving closer to his side, wanting nothing more than to just cling on for dear life as townfolk began watching the two of you. 

You were familiar with most of them, you were an usual face having made many trips into the village since you’d been here, but something about the way some of the men stared at you was making your skin crawl. Was it because you were with Simon? Were they jealous? Or were they just being cautious because this was an Alpha they hadn’t seen before? They were used to you coming into town every now and then with John, but mostly by yourself, it was rare to see you with someone else, let alone another man. Your head pounded, and sweat began dripping down your face under the brim of your sunhat. 

Your belly cramped, a low grunt coming from your chest as it did and suddenly, you have a revelation. 

Heat, heat, heat, heat. You pouted, your wolf louder in your mind. No wonder she was reacting this way to him, you thought. It was just because you were due for your heat. You felt silly for not having tracked your cycle or paid attention to the dates well enough to realize it was time. Pups! Oh he could fill us with his litter! I bet his cock is nice and fat, get us nice and full! Your cheeks flushed as you tried to decipher the difference between your thoughts and hers, unsure of who thought what at that moment. 

“Okay there?” He asks, bumping your shoulder with his elbow. 

You look up and he’s already staring at you, eyes drawn tight under that damn mask. How was he not hot? “Just fine.” You smile, looking at him. “I have a few things to grab at the market..it’s just the next street over, can we go there first?”

He follows you silently, if he’s not right next to you, he’s trailing behind and in all honesty his strong, silent presence makes you feel safe and comfortable, at ease. You know you don’t have to watch your surroundings constantly while you’re out, he’s an Alpha, his natural instinct is to protect and he seems to do it just oh so naturally, holding his arm out to stop you when you’re about to cross a busy street, holding your hand gently once he deems it safe enough, ushering you to the part of the sidewalk farthest from the bustling street, his body shielding you if something were to happen..

He opened the doors of the market for you, got you a little buggy and though you insisted on pushing it, he refused, keeping your cute little purse safe in the childs seat once you had set it down. Simon followed along the aisles, watching you pout down at your little list and then stare up at the shelves, your frown deepening when they didn’t have a certain item and you had to settle for an alternative. You didn’t see his fists clenching around the mental handle of the buggy as he watched you, didn’t hear the internal battle he was having with his wolf about leveling the entire store because you were unhappy at their lack of a certain product. 

It was when you were waiting in line for the butcher that he finally spoke again. You just wanted some chicken cutlets, and a couple of good steaks but your body seemingly had other ideas. Your heat was coming strong and fast, evident in the way that you whimper and nearly double over out of nowhere, grabbing Simon’s hand as you grab your lower belly, lips puckered and eyebrow furrowed. 

“Al’righ, Rosie?” He asks softly, worried, looking down at you, his big hand is on the middle of your back, the other on your shoulder as he crouches down slightly, as if to bring himself closer to your level. He’d smelled you since about the time you had first whimpered walking through town, your scent making his mouth water more than it normally did, his wolf trying harder and harder to take control of him, now that you were clearly in pain though, his wolf was whining, crying for him to do something and he couldn’t just ignore it. You nod meekly, trying to suppress a sniffle, to discreetly wipe away the tears welling in your eyes. “No, you’re not.” His voice is gruff, and he cringes as it reaches his own ears. “Wots wrong, lovie?” He asks, gentler this time, quieter. 

You look up at him, lips quivering and eyes watery and his body just wants to sag. Fix it, fix it, fix it, fix it, she’s sad, she’s sad i dont like it! What’s wrong with you? Why are you letting her be sad? Why is she in pain? If he could tell himself to shut up and it actually work, he would have, but dammit the beast was right. Why wasn’t he fixing it? 

“Heat..” 

It was whispered, but it was all he needed. “Okay, lovie, lets get the rest of the groceries and get you home.” Home. Not just his boss’s cabin. Home. A meek nod in response. He tucks you into his side, dropping his big beefy arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side tightly as he gives a long hard glare to the staring Beta’s and Alpha’s lingering around, even the one behind the meat counter. Your face is buried in his rib cage, just under his armpit as you breathe in his scent to calm yourself down, but also to protect yourself from the stares of the other people. Other unmated omegas, even some of the mated ones staring you down as you burrowed into the side of the giant man, your scent marking the whole store. Why wouldn’t they stare? You were the stupid one who couldn’t keep track of your own cycles. 

Simon does the rest of the shopping for you, slapping your list down onto the meat counter as he glares at the butcher, tells the man to make it snappy. “Need t’get this one ‘ome.” He says, his arm still wrapped tightly around your body, his voice just as tight as his grip as he talks to the grocers. You’re still clinging to his side, now shaking as the pain is coming quicker and quicker, when he makes it to the check out. He’s polite as he can be when you squeeze his hand, pouting at his gruff words and demands to hurry as he unloads the buggy, hands the cashier a wad of cash from his wallet while the bag boy works as fast as he can. 

You can barely fathom the walk back home, can barely stand on your own two feet as the light of day shines down on you when Simon helps you step out onto the street some more. He’s kind enough to think ahead, hails a taxi that the town is just barely big enough to justify having and ushers you in, giving gruff instructions to the driver as he plops down into the seat next to you, grocery bags at your feet as you curl into his side. 

“S’alright, Lovie,” He murmurs into our hair, hand rubbing up and down your bicep soothingly as you whimper again. “Get you home and into a hot bath in no time, okay? Get your nest all built up for you..”

This was going to be a long, long week. 

taglist:

@wise-owl

[disgustingtwitches]

A Rose In Harlem

You're stuck in a romcom with your new asshole neighbor, Simon Riley

Masterlist

PART 1

A rose in Harlem starts to bloom…

***

Simon despises New York. But, truth be told, he hates every big city; they're all too loud, too crowded, and too filthy. Too prone to tragedy and attacks. He much preferred the solitude of the countryside, miles of quiet stretching in every direction. As long as he had one of his squad mates snoring close by and the soft chirp of crickets, he could sleep far better than he ever did now.

Because right now, someone decided that playing Shakira at nine in the morning on a Sunday was acceptable. The ceiling shook with every kick of the bass. Simon stared up at the ceiling, frustration gnawing at his patience. He considered himself a patient man, but his sleep was sacred. He barely got any as is; nightmares he refused to acknowledge, waking up in cold sweats, insomnia from irregular missions. He’d fallen asleep just as the sun rose. And now it was… 9:01 AM. He groaned while he rolled off his mattress on the floor and stretched, muscles tight as ever.

Throwing on some sweatpants and a hoodie, he headed next door, ignoring the little doorbell with a camera on it.

He pounded on the door, adjusting his mask. Nine bangs and the music finally stopped. A feminine voice came through the speaker,

“Can I help you?”

“Your music’s too loud.”

There was a pause.

“Welcome to Harlem,”

That was all he heard before the music up again-louder than before. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath in. Go to your happy place, his mandated therapist told him. He doesn't have a fucking happy place. His childhood home? His shitty flat back in London? In his new, somehow shittier apartment in New York? He thinks that the back of his eyelids are the happiest place he knows of, just blank and dark. On some days he wishes that he'd stay in that darkness for good.

He clears his throat and opens his eyes, looking at the stupid little camera in front of him. He pounds on the door again, harder this time. The door seemed to flinch under his fist. The music didn’t stop this time, just lowered.

“Jesus, you knock like a cop.”

The voice on the other end sighed, annoyed. The fucking audacity.

“Lower your music. Surprised no one else has complained.”

“Because they know how to mind their business. Keep banging on my door, and we’ll have an issue.”

Simon laughed internally. Did she really just say that? He was big enough to make any threat against him ridiculous. Or maybe the camera makes him look smaller than he is. He leaned in towards the camera, finally acknowledging it.

“We’ll have a real issue if this keeps up.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“You’re real bold, you know that? Coming in here, smoking those nasty-ass cigarettes, stinking up the place. Then banging on my door, telling me what to do? Go fuck yourself.”

Simon’s fist clenches as the music turns back up to full volume. He has half a mind to kick down the door and throw those speakers out the window. Maybe the listener too. But he was working on his temper, so as he walked out of the building, he looked up where the nearest hardware store was.

•

It was nearly 3 AM when the drilling started. Right on the wall behind your headboard. What the fuck? You groan and cover your head with your pillow. Who the fuck is drilling at this time? You think for a moment, then remember that big fucker who was pounding at your door earlier. Of course, it's him; of course, he'd be the type of asshole to do some shit like this.

Ten minutes passed, and the drilling stopped. Thank God. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep again, it started back up. You bang on the wall repeatedly out of frustration. There is a moment of silence. Then you hear a few bangs back, mirroring your own before continuing to drill.

You feel like screaming.

“Piece of shit. Wanna wake me up in the middle of the night? Act like you don't have any fucking sense?”

You mumble to yourself, throwing on your slippers and a hoodie. The drilling keeps going as you walk out your door and head to his. You repeatedly press the doorbell indignantly. The whir of the drill stops. You brace yourself to face that hulking mass that you stared at through your doorbell app earlier. Fists clenched in your hoodie pocket and chest tight, breathing hard and fast, still worked up. You think of the right words to call him, something that would cut deep. But after a moment, you realize he's not going to answer the door. Pussy. You say to yourself before turning and storming back to your place.

It was quiet for the rest of the night.

***

You're disoriented when your alarm goes off, eyes blearily looking at the screen, trying to read the time. You drop your face into the pillow, groaning in exhaustion. Ishta wanted to meet you for coffee before work today, which means she wants to talk for at least thirty minutes. You contemplate texting her and calling off the rendezvous, but she gets in a mood when you do that. And you are not in the mood to deal with that today. You roll out of bed and get ready for work.

As if the day couldn't get any worse, the elevator's broken, so you have to use the stairs. Your mood sours with every step down, thinking of all the bullshit that's happened in less than 24 hours. Fucker knocking on your door, talking crazy to you, then waking you up in the middle of the night? Acting like he can do whatever the hell he wants. The hallway reeks of cigarettes.

You bump into someone while walking out of the foyer, distracted by your thoughts and phone, checking to see what time the train is coming. You almost apologize then stop yourself when you look up. It's him.

You're pretty sure he's wearing the same clothes as yesterday: a black hoodie and sweatpants with a face mask. Does he wear that because it's flu season or because he wants to hide his face? Probably the latter.

“You're gonna make people nervous running around like that.”

You don't try to hide your face of displeasure. He is unaffected, catching his breath slowly and deeply. His dark eyes lock with yours.

“Am I making you nervous?”

He asks in a tone that's almost taunting. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“No.”

“Then why do you care?”

His question upsets you a little.

“Because I'm a decent person,”

Is what you settle on. His eyebrow twitches. You don't like how heavy the air suddenly gets. You adjust your bag and step around him, rushing to the subway.

***

Ishta giggles zooming in on the man on your screen.

“He looks tall. And strong.”

You sigh, taking your phone back and tucking it into your bag.

“He's an asshole.”

“He's hot.”

“You can't even see his face!”

You groan, exasperated. This is the first time you actually get to lead the conversation, and the topic isn't even about you.

“I knew it was only a matter of time when I saw that stupid Chick-fil-A open up here. Now we have him running around like he owns the place.”

You sigh into your tea, trying to calm down. Ishta is enjoying this much more than you.

“They opened another one up at 181st too,”

Ishta smirks, leaning back into her chair.

“Do you think I'll be seeing any big, strong, mysterious men in my neighborhood anytime soon?”

She laughs when you make a face. Putting your cup down, you groan.

“He's British.”

Ishta waves her hand around, gold jewelry catching the light of the rising sun.

“Oh babe, he can't help it. You know, I heard it's a genetic thing.”

Her smirk turns into a wide smile when you chuckle at that. Maybe today won't be so bad.

Wrong.

You are blindsided coming into work, forgetting your very important presentation with the museum's benefactors. It takes ten minutes just to pull up the slideshow and they all seem unimpressed and bored. Halfway through, your manager calls for a quick break and meets you outside in the hallway.

“What is going on in there?”

She whispers in a harsh tone, leaning so close you can smell her ridiculously overpriced perfume. You bite your lip, avoiding eye contact.

“I'm sorry, my neigh-”

She pinched the air, manicured fingernails held up to your face.

“I don't care what you got going on, just don't embarrass me like that again.”

It takes all of your strength not to smack her hand away. She stares at you, waiting for a response. But you keep your mouth shut, knowing that if you open it you'll likely lose your job. She pulls back, straightening out her skirt.

“Try to be more engaging. And you look like hell.”

The rest of the presentation goes without a hitch, the benefactors perk up when you start spouting some technolect bullshit about the newest artifacts your department has been working on procuring. Your manager soaks in all the praise like she had anything to do with the newest developments in your department.

The lack of sleep is catching up to you when you're sitting at your desk, staring at the same email for twenty minutes, trying to remember how to tell someone to jump off a bridge professionally.

As per my last email,

You hold the backspace, erasing and writing the same sentence over and over again.

“RISD giving you a hard time with the Hiroshige prints?”

Ishta’s voice startles you, her tall frame hovers over your shoulder. You feel a headache forming right between your eyebrows.

“I don't know what they want from me, they seemed so eager to work with us before.”

“Their board of trustees got a new member, total cunt. The Met is having a hard time too.”

“What the fuck is her deal?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, nearing a total meltdown. Ishta places her hands on your shoulders, taking deep breaths.

“Just close your eyes and think happy thoughts,”

You roll your eyes but humor her, mimicking her breathing.

“Think of getting more grant money. Chocolate cake from the bakery down the street. And your hot neighbor's barrel chest-”

“Knock it off, he's so insufferable.”

You smile, playfully knocking her hand away and waving her off.

“I need to focus now, so go.”

She blew kisses at you while walking away and you turned back to your computer, a small line blinking on a blank screen.

Just following up on my email below. Let me know if I should be talking to someone else about this…

After spending too much time writing your email, you leaned back in your seat, checking your phone absentmindedly, opening your doorbell app and playing the videos of whoever walked by. Miss Dowdy with her miniature pinscher, Nina bringing her groceries, a masked figure donned in all black tucking a cigarette behind his ear.

“Am I making you nervous?”

His words replay in your head, uninvited and relentless. You don’t like the way his voice makes you feel. It crawls under your skin, makes your stomach twist.

***

Your bed feels softer than usual when you flop down on it with a groan, slipping into deep sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You jump when you hear a bang. Groan when you hear another. Grit your teeth at the third bang.

Hammering. This jackass is hammering in the middle of the night. Blood boiling, it takes all of your strength to not scream and bang your fists on the wall like a madman. Your head hurts from clenching your jaw while you slip into your slides and storm next door.

You press the doorbell rabidly. It takes a solid minute before the locks click and the door swings open. You stare at the tattoo sleeve that peeks out from under the hoodie he rolled up to his elbow before looking past him and into his bare apartment. It's clean but empty and cold; there is a mattress and a huge TV on the floor, a single chair at a small table, some weights, and a milk crate. He leans against the doorframe, blocking your view.

“Evening.”

He’s insouciant, lighting a cigarette as he addresses you, his calm cutting deeper than any words. Your vision blurs with red, fists trembling at your sides, shaking with the force of your restraint. He catches it, and the corners of his lips twitch upward, like he’s savoring the storm he’s pulled from you. It takes everything in you not to lunge at him, but the bitter knowledge of how futile it would be keeps you rooted in place.

“You're an asshole.”

The words make him hum in acknowledgment, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke into his apartment.

“Don't know what you mean. You're being very hostile to me right now, angel.”

The disparaging pet name sends you over the edge, you snap.

“Don't act stupid. You keep doing that shit and I'll take that dumbass hammer and…”

You keep going like this until your anger subsides, blood no longer molten, just under a simmer for now. His face is stony, eyes unnervingly dark and devoid of any emotion. You wait for his response, the silence stretches for longer than you're comfortable with. He looks down at your chest briefly.

“Chilly out here, huh?”

He finally says, twisting his body to grab an ashtray from the countertop next to him. You furrow your eyebrows, confused.

“What?”

Then you glance down-and your stomach drops. You forgot to put on a bra before coming out. Mortified, you cross your arms in a desperate, clumsy motion. The shame burns hot, but it’s fleeting, quickly overtaken by a rage that feels twice as strong now. If that’s even possible. He cuts you off before you cuss him out (again).

“Start the music later and I'll stop.”

You want to argue. Be stubborn. Lie just to spite him and wake him up bright and early next weekend. But you’re too damn tired. And he’s too damn good at making your life miserable when he wants to. So you sigh, rolling your eyes with the kind of exasperation that feels like defeat.

“Fine. Yes. Whatever. Just stop banging on the fucking wall.”

He stubs out his cigarette, shoving the ashtray aside like it’s an afterthought. He turns, stretching lazily, his arms braced against the doorframe, looking every bit the smug bastard he is.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck you.”

That gets him. His split lip twists into a crooked grin, sharp and mean, but somehow entertained all the same. For a moment, it throws you off, and you realize this is the first time you’ve actually seen his face. All of it. Every nasty scar and shadow he hid underneath that mask.

He snaps his fingers and points at you amusedly.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Night, angel.”

And with that, he shuts his door, leaving you in the hallway alone to stew in your frustration.

You tuck your annoyance away while lying down to sleep, you've spent enough time stressing over that man and you'll be damned if he messes with your sleep anymore than he already has.

***

"A mattress on the floor and some weights? That's it?"

Ishta's voice crackles through the phone, entirely too enthusiastic about the details you're sharing. It's clear her concern lies more with Mr. Asshole than with you. She's already connecting dots you wish she wouldn't.

"You know guys like that always have good dick,"

She says, tone smug.

"All they need is a bed and a pull-up bar or something. The rest takes care of itself."

You sigh, leaning on the windowsill and opening the bedroom window, letting the cool air hit your face.

"Is dick all you think about?"

"Maybe if you got some decent dick in your life, you'd be less stressed. How do you think I keep so calm?”

“You said it was kickboxing last week.”

You wedge the phone between your shoulder and ear, twisting the cap off a bottle of rosé. She continues,

"Well, that too,"

Her voice is light and breezy, like this is just common knowledge.

"But it's all about balance—therapy, exercise, and, you know, some mind-blowing se-ex."

She drags the last word out, sing-songy and teasing, the grin in her voice unmistakable. You can picture her lounging somewhere, phone in hand, not a care in the world. You roll your eyes and take a sip, the tart sweetness of the wine softening your irritation.

"Dick is more trouble than it's worth."

That sets her off, laughter bubbling through the phone. It’s the kind of laugh that makes you soften; it’s contagious, disarming, and you hate how it pulls the corners of your mouth up despite yourself. She catches her breath,

“Oh, please. You just never got good dick.”

“I've gotten good dick!”

“Not recently!”

You finally give in, a reluctant laugh slipping out, satiating her smug amusement before you bid her a quick adieu and hang up.

Putting on something soft and slow, you hum along, the melody wrapping around you as you sip your wine. The night feels calm, city heat radiating from the sidewalks finally cooling down, loud music being played a block over. Leaning out the window, you take in the cool air, only to startle when you spot him sitting on the fire escape, smoke curling lazily from his cigarette.

“Jesus fuck! ”

You jump, heart pounding as you clutch your wine glass.

He looks at you, unbothered, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he takes a slow drag. You’ve seen his scarred face before, but now you really take it in: the crooked nose, proof of who knows how many fights; the slit through his eyebrow, jagged and uneven; the deep-set eyes that seem to pierce right through you; and a jawline that looks like it could cut glass.

He shifts, catching you staring, and for a moment his brow furrows, like he doesn’t like it. But then, he talks, voice low and calm, smoke puffing out between his words.

“That true?”

He asks, breaking the silence as he exhales a plume of smoke.

You blink, caught off guard.

“Is what true?”

He flashes a smile, like he just thought of a joke.

“You never got good dick?”

Your face gets hot,

“Do you usually listen to people's conversations?”

“Only when it pertains to me.”

“How do you know I was talking about you?”

“You familiar with a lot of men who sleep on the floor?”

You twist your face, disbelief etched in every feature.

"No. I am not."

"Yeah, didn't take you for an easy lay."

He tilts his head, a flicker of smugness dancing in his dark eyes.

"Need some good dick?"

You cringe, the audacity hitting like a slap to the face. He shrugs, unapologetic, like he's just offered you a drink instead of an indecent proposal.

"Offer stands. You know where I am."

"Unfortunately."

You mutter, disgust laced in the single word. He drinks up your venom, savoring the bite in your tone. He places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt.

“You wound me, angel.”

Does he ever take anything seriously?

“Are you always such a jerk off?”

He points at you, cigarette dangling between his fingers.

“You know, you like calling me every name under the sun, don't you wanna know what it actually is?”

“What? Your actual name? Thought you preferred ‘asshole’.”

He snorts,

“Might as well, seeing as you've got that down pat.”

He cocks his head, shadows cutting across his face, deepening the scars and crooked edges of him. His face was rough, but you always liked character—distinct features that tell a story.

You don't say anything, trying to hide your flicker of curiosity by sipping your wine, but he sees right through you.

“Simon. Be sure not to wear it out. Yet.”

“I like ‘asshole’ better.”

“Does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”

He stands, towering from your perspective as you perch on the windowsill. He stretches, a casual movement that feels anything but. Your eyes betray you, catching on the faint trail of hair that starts at his belly button and disappears under his waistband. He’s definitely doing this on purpose.

“Night, angel.”

He winks, self-satisfied.

“Bye, asshole.”

Your voice has softened, more playful than biting. He flicks the butt of his cigarette onto the street below before looking down at you.

“Good girl.”

The words are tossed down like a gauntlet, casual and deliberate, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. Your stomach twists, warmth spreading before you can clamp it down. You frown, annoyed—at him, at yourself, at how easily he gets under your skin. You sit back, swirling the last drops of wine in your glass as you watch him slip through his own window, vanishing into the dark. You hate the way his words echo in your head.

You're not gonna fuck your neighbor. Don't fuck your neighbor.

next

[moonlight-prose]

hi! just watched someone like you last night & i saw your requests were open for eddie 😫

either:

1. "did you just wash these sheets?" "i did." "they smell nice. and they're still warm."

or

2. "we should really get up." "we should....but we won't."

whichever you like better!! they both screammm eddie to me

love is here to stay

a/n: what i wouldn't give to cuddle with this man in the mornings. possibly making him late for work as other things ensue. and i've always tied jazz songs to movies from the early 2000s and 90s. so this is based off the ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong song. i fear i'm down bad for this man and would love to have him be my boyfriend.

summary: mornings where the summer heat was unbearable and energy was nowhere to be founr, made getting up a difficult task. add a sleepy eddie and a multitude of kisses and suddenly it became near impossible.

word count: 1k

pairing: eddie alden x reader

warnings: semi-explicit so 18+ ONLY!!, summer heat eviserating anything fun, banter, eddie being a fucking tease, sweat, he calls the pussy her, comfy loving scenario.

New York City roared to life on the other side of your apartment wall. Chatter of people shouting, horns of taxis already stuck in morning traffic. Not even your shut and locked window could block each noise that came through. It was a place that demanded to be heard the second the sun rose up in the dark blue sky.

You mumbled something unintelligible, hand reaching for the covers that were no doubt kicked to the bottom of the bed. Halfway through the night the air shut off—effectively making your place a hellscape with no chance of avoidance.

What began as a night filled with naked skin and fast bitten thrusts, turned to the both of you sleeping as far away as humanly possible. You were almost certain if you opened your eyes you'd find Eddie at the edge of the mattress—his body covered in a sheen of sweat. Matching you completely.

"Mm," he groaned into his pillow, flipping over to his side, an arm flinging around your bare waist. "You move too much."

"Shut up," you muttered.

You could feel the tendrils of a somewhat breeze filter in through the living room where you'd left the fire escape window open. Neither of you bothered to shut it after the glass of wine and shared cigarette turned to stripping him of his shirt and you of your pants. It felt like a miracle you made it to the bedroom at all—his body collapsing atop yours with a pained groan; hands grasping for any piece of plushness he could find.

"Make me." Even in sleep he managed to grin like a tease. His eyes shut and hand shifting to cup your bare ass. "Feels like you want to," he sighed around a half yawn.

You shuffled closer, cheek pressed to his chest. "Feels like the fuckin' world is on fire."

He tapped your ass. "That it is baby."

What little energy you could gather was bled from your body the longer you lay there. Summer eviscerated any means of joy in your life. What could you do? Hiding inside was all you had left in order to escape the heat. Now even that left you withering against his torso—body slick with sweat that would only return moments after you washed it off.

"Eddie," you yawned, throwing your arm over his stomach. He offered a grunt; the heat now muddling his brain and cutting off his ability to form words. "You work today?"

His arm raised above his head, onto the pillows beneath him. (Pillows he stole in the middle of the night.)

"I could," he sighed. "Got lots to do at work."

"Ah. I forgot. Big time hot shot."

The audible smack of his hand landing harder on your ass made you laugh; your leg kicking out to deter his attacks. He couldn't help it. Toying with your flesh was the highlight of his mornings. His eyes creeped open, lips tugging into a lazy grin that screamed drowsiness. Only to watch as he jiggled your flesh—fingers kneading at you like a fucking cat who just found the softest pillow in the world.

"Unless you intend to fuck me stupid Alden. I'd stop that."

His head fell back with a raspy groan. "Got no energy to fuck you stupid baby." You glanced at him, chin resting on his chest. "How about I just fuck ya? Huh?"

"Stupid or no deal," you mumbled.

"My cock is gonna be begging for you all day."

"Too bad." You smiled, pressing a kiss to the hair that nestled in between his pecs. "Shoulda thought of that before you didn't call the super to fix the fuckin' air."

His sigh was wistful—-relenting. "Yeah I know. I'll call 'em today."

The city took over your conversation when silence began to filter in between the cracks of your haven. In this small bedroom, you were safe. Content even as the warmth of your lover began to stick to your skin and cause discomfort. Moving wasn't an option. Nor was taking a cold shower.

So you remained there, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath.

"We should really get up," he muttered, head turning to face the window.

The sun came through your sheer curtains, casting a shadow along the hardwood floor. You marveled at how picturesque it was—how heavenly.

"We should..." You placed another kiss against his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat along your tongue. He groaned, his eyes meeting yours. "But we won't."

"Baby," he breathed.

Your eyes narrowed. "Don't even think about it Eddie."

"C'mon!" he laughed. "Lemme eat your pussy. I'll be really nice to her."

"Fuck off. 'S too hot." You buried your face into his skin, biting back the peal of laughter he could tell lay on the tip of your tongue.

"All I'm saying is she's never not liked my tongue down there."

The loud smack you land to his stomach causes a howl of laughter to erupt from his chest. His body rolling over to trap you beneath him—pressing you down into the mattress as he bit at your neck. Another echo of the city poured in through the open door, cracking through the bubble you both resided in. But the feel of Eddie trailing kisses down your stomach killed every sound that didn't belong to him.

"Too hot my ass," he mumbled along your hip bone, teeth scraping the skin hard enough to draw a moan from your lips. "It's never too hot to have something sweet, baby."

You smiled, curling your fingers into his hair. "I hate you."

"You love me," he retorted, drawing your thighs up and over his shoulders. "Admit it."

When he looked at you like this: eyes bright enough to put even the sun to shame. How could you say anything but yes?

[mintiicinnamonii]

Ok, so, idk if I missed the character limit so I'm sorry if it's too much, I also don't want to put any pressure on you either!

So! What if reader was half human half dragon? (I mean like, How to train your dragon kinda dragon)

Where they can either be human, half human/dragon (like, walking on their legs but being a bit taller than before, having scales instead of skin, wings and tail) and full dragon form (like toothless)

(I apologize if it's too complicated 😭)

Reader: gender neutral

Characters (romantic hc): Sun Wukong, Macaque and MK? (Maybe Mei Mei too if it's not pushing it)

Again, no pressure, and if it's too much I'll understand! Have a lovely day :D

Mei, MK, Wukong and Macaque with a dragon hybrid reader

(notes: MUAHAHAHAH YOU HAVE FED ME YOUNG ONE!! I didnt have much ideas but this was so fun!)

Mei

shes SOOO EXCITED

like?? a fellow dragon? a PRETTY ONE?!!

she asks if you breathe fire, and depending on your species you answer

you two go on joyrides in the sky <33

the second you transformed she was like 🫦

she is in AWE OF YOUUUU

she asks you so many questions about your species and you’re happy to answer them all

her fans think you’re a cosplayer 💀

she demands piggy back rides, and pulls your collar down to kiss you

”i love my tall partner”

she catches you hoarding gems and has a picture saved on her phone

her parents are like 🙌

you have asian parent approval congrats (im viet, so i should know)

—

MK

seductive monster x shy human real!!,

he was very intimidated at first, he thought you would eat him

but when you purr with your lil reptile noises hes SMITTEN

i hc that you pick him up and fly with him

hes happy he can relate to someone who can relate to having this animalistic side of their life

he blushes a lot. like.. you’re HELLA TALL and MK is probably short as hell so… add two and two together

you steal his stuff a lot and hoard it as treasure. he doesnt mind, as long as youre happy

you reach things on the top shelf for him. change my mind.

—

SWK

CUDDLE PILES!!!

you two fly in FFF together

SPIDERMAN/SKY KISSES BABYYYY

he thinks you look so graceful and pretty

you could kick his ass and he would say thank you

you spar with MK sometimes to help him and MK is FLABBERGASTED

imagine wukong getting into a stupid fight and you jsut swoop in and save him

he gives you as many treasures as possible for you to hoard

and when you’re in dragon form hes like 😳

mans thinking of situations. none of them are in the tripitaka/the buddhist bible

he tries to turn into a dragon, he cant do it

”sighhhhh i miss my tall pookie bear”

he leans on your shoulder

—

Macaque

he admires your strength, but not in the sense that Wukong does, more like respect and love

you go on nighttime flights together, its rlly relaxing

he pets you. fight me.

like dragon pookie = cat pookie

scratches, pets, distracting you with shiny things

you get rlly mad and then he just kisses you and youre like 😳

the only man that can calm you down

if you were dating before he joined the gang, POWER COUPLEEE

”hey babe ready to beat up wukongs student” “hold up lemme change firstttt”

he pulls you down with your collar to kiss you

hes still a massive flirt <33

i hc that you make little replite/cat sounds. the first time macaque heard them hes like “wait did you just”

he has teased you for it ever since

the dojo’s kinda small, so you have to duck to enter, and he literally CHANGED HIS DOOR so you can enter easily

[eccentricallygothic]

Patience

Pairing: Daddy!Ari Levinson | Brat Baby!You.

Description: Ari decides to actually act upon his literal threats of ‘teaching your ass a lesson’ this time around.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, ddlg, power imbalance, meanie Daddy!Ari, bratty!you, allusions to spanking, size kink, strength kink, begging, humiliation, rimming, ass fingering, age gap (reader is 20’s and Ari is near 40’s), possessive!Ari, dirty talk, brat taming. Minors do not interact. 

Type: Request (anon), here.

Note: Unedited because it's 5am and I have class around 10am. Forgive me for any errors. Hope you like it <3

.

Your hot and pouty face was buried between your arms that were folded ‘petitely’ over your boyfriend's work table even though you were anything but. “Daddy, please!” You whined and tried to shift in his beastly hold only to fail yet again. “I already said I was sorry and I already got a spankie!” You kicked your foot and complained like you had any power against him. 

Ari's rough fingers only groped your stinging ass cheeks harder as he kept them spread apart for his experienced tongue to keep torturing your quivering pucker. “Nah, today is the day, baby. Buckle up” his words made you whine even louder than before and you puffed out your cheeks, your hips struggling to break free from his tyrannical grip. 

“But I already said I was sorry!” You were a sensitive little thing that was used to being spoiled and treated like you were the reason the sun rose everyday, not getting your way or being rough handled was not something you were particularly accustomed to. Especially not at the hands of the grizzly kneeling behind you. 

“As you have a million times before” Ari simply responded before the sharp tip of his tongue ran around your rim again before he probed the opening that was tightly wrinkled shut. As if the tiny stretches he was causing weren't uncomfortable and humiliating enough, the recent spanks on your ass made it even worse. You had no idea how, but the jerk had even managed to spank your poor little backdoor. He was lucky you loved him. “But today is the day punishment will actually teach you something, you little brat.” 

You huffed and shook your disapproval out through your body. “Daddy, you're being so mean!” Your eyebrows were furrowed but you dared not look behind and at him. You were not allowed to do so, as he had ordered you to look ahead when he had begun. “It's not my fault those little boys look at me! I only have eyes for you!” You heard his snicker of disbelief.

“Yeah, right–” your eyes widened when you felt him heatedly spit on your asshole, clearly further instigated by your words, before one of his fingers began to push against your virgin rim. 

“DADDY!” You panicked but Ari was unbothered. “Oh, no!” Your face burnt hot in humiliation but that didn't stop your pussy from tearing up. 

“Oh, yes” Ari's guttural voice was quiet as he leaned in to lick at one of the many fingerprints he had left on your ass cheeks, the digut he had inserted in you now knuckle deep. His thick beard tickled your sensitive skin where his tongue touched you. “Only have eyes for your old man, huh? Is that why you go bowling with your silly girlfriends in those cute little shorts, hm?” He gave you a good few jabs so you would feel his knuckle butt against your rim. “Tsk, like I don't know about those foolish little boys following you around like dumb little mutts.” Okay, maybe you did like the attention. 

“B- But that's not my fault, Dada! I only want you!” That was true. “You know it!” It was the reason why you liked to rile up Ari like this. Especially during periods when his stupid work took nearly all his time.

Ari began to pull his finger out and your ass humiliatingly squelched. He stopped when only the tip reached your rim. You whimpered as your pucker clenched in discomfort. “Too bad that is not going to stop me from breaking this–”

“Daddyyy!” You whined when his finger began to push into you once more.

“– bratty little ass in like I should have a long time ago” you shuddered when he added some tongue to the finger fucking. “Maybe you will finally learn some fuckin’ patience when you limp all over the place like a sorry little baby slut.”

Oh dear, oh dear.

You had a long evening to go.

And a lot of begging to do. 

.

[storieswithvenus]

beach days // JJ Maybank x fem reader

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴

hi!!! i hope everyone is doing well. i’m so sorry for not posting in like ages lmao. writers block is actually kicking my ass for the last few weeks so i’ve literally just wrote this to try and get something out. if it’s bad, im sorry!!!

ALSO!!! thank you for 100 followers!!! your support is super appreciated and i love every single one of you!!!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

the sun was glowing over the kildare county. the last few days had been the hottest ones of the season so far, and from what weather predictions had been reporting, it was only meant to be getting hotter.

you, sarah and kiara were all laying on your towels, the sand being too hot to lay on like yous usually did. the three of you laying there with your bikinis on, sunglasses covering your eyes and soaking up the sun. you enjoyed this time with your girls, you got some peace and quiet from the complete chaos the boys brought.

“BABE! look at this really cool trick me and JB can do,” the sound of your boyfriends voice attracting your attention. sitting up, along with sarah to watch what your two boyfriends could possibly be doing.

“this really isn’t going to go well, is it?” sarah whispered over to you, both of you staring intently at the two boys trying to do a backflip trick. you look over to her slightly, giggling at what she said, “this definitely is not going to go well. either one or both of them gets hurt.” you reply, your voice full of love as you turn your head back to the two boys.

“20 bucks it’ll be JJ who gets hurt”, kiara speaks up from the other side of you, she sits up to watch the boys. you and sarah let out a quiet laugh at kiaras comment, watching as the two of them get into position to try the trick again.

the two boys were standing with their backs together, walking away from each other a few feet, just to start doing back flips towards each other. what they didn’t realise however, was the fact that they were backflipping right into each other. so when they both collided and flipped over each other, you weren’t surprised to hear a few groans and moans from the boys.

kiaras laugh pierced the air, you and sarah looking over to her just to see her wiping her eyes to remove the tears in her eyes, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to regain her breath as she continued laughing. you couldn’t help but look back over to the boys, who were still laying in the wet sand, groaning as the tide covered their bodies with salt water, and laugh. quiet frankly, nearly peeing yourself from how much you were laughing at the site. you and kiara laughing as pope and cleo ran over to the two and started helping them up.

“baby the fact you are laughing really doesn’t make me feel any better”, JJ collapses infront of you, laying his head on your lap and you catch your breath. looking down at the blue eyes staring up at you, “sorry jay, but you you two idiots should’ve known what was gonna happen”.

JJ flicks your thigh as a way of telling you off, still looking up at you, a massive smile on his face watching his girl laugh at something stupid he did. you looked like an angel to him, from where he was laying on your lap, you had the sun shining bright behind you, thus leaving a heavenly glow behind you.

“why are you staring at me, baby?” your voice grabs his attention again. “cause you’re so beautiful” you blush at his words, leaning down to give him a slight kiss.

“you guys make me sick,” kiara says watching the two of you, a sarcastic tone on her voice. you and JJ start to giggle looking back at each other.

your fingers run through your boyfriends hair, watching everyone talk and laugh with each other. your boyfriend laying on your lap sleeping, his chest rising and lowering as he takes a breath.

“i love you”, you looked down to your boyfriend, his eyes open slightly looking up at you. leaning down to kiss him again slightly,

“i love you too”

[iceman-kazansky]

Can you write Seb x driver!reader where driver wins race after race and wins the championship and becomes red bulls prodigy and basically Seb is jealous of her and he basically hates her but she’s kind to him and everyone so he ends up falling in love with her

Little Miss Sunshine 

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙· ̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: Anon 

Request: ^^

Pairings: Sebastian Vettel x F!RB!Driver!reader 

Warnings: Seb is a bit of an ass at first (as per request,) typical red bull menace era Seb. Y/n utilized. Kissing. Getting drunk. Angst to fluff. No Danny ric to RB and Hamilton doesn't win WDC that year (for the plot.)

Word count: 5295

A/n: AHHH OMG I LOVED THIS REQUEST! GIGGLED AND KICKED MY FEET WHEN I GOT THIS! Hope you enjoy this :):) P.S. Sorry this took so long, Life got quite hectic haha

Taglist: none (if you'd like to be on my taglist, there's a link to the form at the bottom of the post! :] )

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

You had smiled awkwardly at Sebastian when you’d first met him, given him a little wave and greeted him rather shyly. It wasn’t your first year in Formula 1, of course, though, you’d come from a cheaper team, one that hadn’t had a streak of winning like Red Bull. So, naturally, you were a little timid of the new environment and determined not to let your team down or have a sour relation with your teammate.

You were standing in your race suit, your white balaclava pulled over your head as you adjusted your helmet before climbing into your car.

Sitting in the new vehicle had never felt this nerve-wracking. Already, all of their eyes were on you and their expectations were high. You were nervous, eaten to the core by the fear that you might disappoint your new team on your maiden grand prix for them. 

Without further ado, you shoved those thoughts down and went through the routine of starting your car. The engine roared to life and emitted a low purr. Carefully, you steered your car out of the garage, entering the pit lane.

After the formation lap, you'd taken your position at your spot on the grid, lining up midway through the lineup. Around you, the roar of the new v6 engines filled your ears as the lights began igniting.

As the lights went out and you pulled ahead of a few other drivers, you managed to keep up your pace, chasing Sebastian for the entire session.

On your maiden Red Bull race, you'd placed an impressive P2, second none other to teammate Sebastian Vettel.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

The previous race wasn't where your success stopped. Not at all. Last grand prix, you'd placed below Sebastian, something you considered a result of your lesser driving skills compared to the 4 time world champion. Yet, it wasn't long before you found yourself surpassing him on many occasions. 

You placed higher than him many times, scoring podiums nearly every race. And Sebastian didn't like that he was being out-driven by his new teammate. It left a sour taste in his mouth. 

He began to resent you. He loathed the fact that you were new to this team, to Red Bull, a group so closely-knit because of him. The constant reminder that you had penetrated the family-like racing team he had worked so hard to make closer, was impossible to forget when you –in his words– paraded around the paddock with your bright, easy smiles and kind words. He hated the way you smiled so cheerily, sun rays woven between pearly teeth that portrayed a constant warmth. Your smile seemed to never stop shining and it made Sebastian even more bitter about the situation.

Maybe it was silly. A stupid rivalry. But Sebastian was stubborn and he very much liked winning. He liked being dubbed ‘the best’ 4 consecutive years. And you were taking that away from him. He hated you for it.

It was a particularly bad race for Sebastian. Or, atleast, he'd call it bad. He hadn't placed nearly as high as he'd hoped and it made him angry. You on the other hand, had unsurprisingly placed first, which extended your lead over Sebastian and only increased his frustration.

He climbed out of his car, sweating heavily and anger hot as lava beneath his skin. You followed suit before making your way over to him where he stood. He groaned as you approached, his rage boiling.

“That was a tough race, Sebastian,” You said to him, a small, friendly smile on your face, “You did good.”

Something in the way you smiled at him while you said that made him frustrated and irritable. “Save your sympathy for someone who wants it,” He spat angrily, eyes hardened to a glare.

Sebastian didn't miss the small frown that found its way to your lips, and he found himself feeling a small tinge of something in his chest. It almost frightened him at the peculiar nature of the newly discovered feeling.

“I was just being nice,” You replied in a quieter, much sadder tone, “Sorry.”

As you turned and walked away without another word, Sebastian watched. The German driver knew he should do something. Say something. Call you back and apologize. Yet, his mouth remained glued shut and his eyes locked on your retreating form.

“Fuck,” He cursed to himself, a frustrated hand coming up to run through his sweaty strands of hair.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

It was race day again and already, Sebastian wasn't in a good mood. The previous argument had gone forgotten by him and his anger resurged. You'd out-everything'd him. Out-qualified; Out-lapped; Out-fastest lapped; You'd out-raced him entirely, scoring yourself pole position to start the race off.

Sebastian was a few grid spots back. It wasn't his finest performance over the past few days, he would admit that much.

His eyes were locked on the red lights above the grid that slowly began their count.

1..

The first one ignited.

2..

The second light burned a bright red, and Sebastian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

3..

The third set of lights turned on. Sebastian began to rev his car's engine by pressing his foot on the gas.

4..

The fourth pair of lights lit up, and Sebastian could feel his anticipation growing. He wasn't going to let you win again today. He had to place higher than you.

5..

Finally, the fifth pair of lights blinked on. Sebastian subconsciously squeezed the steering wheel, eyes locked firmly on the red lights as he waited almost impatiently.

The lights all extinguished, and all the cars surged forwards as the race began.

Sebastian was fighting tooth and nail as he moved his way up the race standings. He raced behind you now, your car's tail end visible not far ahead. 

You were driving spectacularly. You pulled corners with professional precision, accelerating out of them with the help of ERS to propel you forward, your car following a unique racing line all with a feel that came natural to you.

Sebastian was pushing his car to the limits as he caught up to you, using all of his ability to keep up and attempt an overtake. You were quick to defend when he moved over slightly to pass, your car zipping in front of him to effectively block his path.

It made him angry and want to take first place from you even more. Sebastian just barely managed to get to a point where he was wheel-to-wheel with you on a straightaway. Yet, a corner with a decreased radius was rapidly approaching as your fight for first intensified.

Your car pulled to the outer edge of the track as you followed the perfect racing line into the turn, Sebastian almost parallel with you. The German driver knew he needed to brake soon and get into a better racing line to complete this corner, but he was too caught up in the fact he was neck and neck with you, fighting for first and he didn't want to pull away and give up.

At almost the same time, your cars slowed coming into the corner, and Sebastian steered sharply into the turn as the track narrowed. 

It all happened in a flash. One minute, both of you were racing around the corner, determined to obtain first place and refusing to allow the other to simply have it, and the next, Sebastian's car, which was going a little too fast as it rounded the bend at the same time yours did, veered straight into the side of your car. The impact sent both of you skidding out of control. Your car spun a few times, tossed straight off the track and into the gravel before smashing into the barrier, Sebastian's following the same track, only slightly ahead of yours.

The German's head was pounding as he came to a stop, a nauseous feeling collecting in his stomach. Only when his eyes laid on your similarly crashed car did he feel a strange sense of panic. Fighting against his restraints, he quickly unbuckled himself, scrambling out of his car once he'd shut it off. His feet had barely hit the ground before he had taken off running towards your crashed car.

It didn't take long to reach you, and when he did he was met with what appeared to be a very disorientated you, who groaned, your helmet pressed against the back of your seat. He reached over to shut off your car when you hadn’t already. His nerves were through the roof, panic running icy-cold through his veins. “Are you okay?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calmer than he really felt. When you didn't answer immediately, he asked again, “Y/n, are you okay?”

You groaned in reply, your helmet turning slightly to face him, the object obscuring your face from him. “I'm okay. Are you okay?”

Sebastian blinked a few times in confusion. You were the one still sitting in the car, and asking if he was okay? “Yeah, I'm fine.” He replied after a minute, baffled.

A sigh of relief left your lips and Sebastian imagined one of your signature smiles finding its way onto your face. 

In a strange moment of what he would call brain-fog, but in reality was clarity, Sebastian felt comforted by that thought. However, he was quick to force that feeling back down to the deepest, warmest pits of his heart and soul. Shoving back down that tiny bit of himself that felt warm and fuzzy at the mention of your name. That tiny bit he never wanted to confront because a part of him knew what it meant.

You got out of your car after that, unbuckling your harness and climbing out. Marshals had arrived on scene and before you knew it, they were giving both of you rides back to the paddock.

When you got back to the Red Bull Garage, both of you had pulled off your helmet and your balaclavas. Sebastian still felt stubbornly bitter, but underneath all that was a strong sense of guilt. He knew it was his fault both of you crashed. Yet, when he looked at your face for the first time since you'd both spun out and hit the barriers, he didn't see anger. He saw a soft smile and a warm look present on your face.

Sebastian didn't understand. Why weren't you angry at him? He was the reason why you both crashed, and he'd subsequently gotten both of you disqualified from the race entirely. Any other person would've been fuming, spitting fire from an angry tongue and steam rolling from their ears. Yet, why weren't you?

For a moment– a split second– Sebastian felt his bitterness ebb away. There was this growing tingling in his chest, and he could feel his stomach knotting itself as it thrashed in turmoil. He found himself staring at you, his anger and so-called loathe of you forgotten, now replaced by a feeling of warm fondness. Again.

The German shook his head to clear those thoughts and feelings. This was the second time today this had happened. What had gotten into him?

The moment for Sebastian didn't last long as soon enough your team principal came out and had a stern talking to both of you, but overall you both got let off easy.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

It was the finishing night of another race week again. One of the many breaks in the season was starting and everyone was in good spirits. Especially Sebastian, as for the first time in awhile this season, he came out with an impressive P1. After a few interviews you were finally free and you went back to your hotel room, feeling particularly exhausted and more than ready for this break.

You opened the door, pulling off your shoes with sluggish movements. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell into a deep sleep, your body more than happy to receive its much-needed rest.

It was the middle of the night when your phone rang, stirring you from your sleep. You groggily read the contact: Sebastian. Why was he calling you? “Hello?” You yawned into the speaker, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, hoping to wake yourself a bit.

“Hiii,” Sebastian slurred, his voice unusually cheery, “how are you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was obvious now that he was drunk. “I’m good, how are you? What’s up?”

“I’m gooood,” He replied, and you noticed the stretching out the syllables of his words when he talked. “Nothings up, I just wanted to talk to you.”

You hummed. “Okay. You’re drunk. Do you need a ride?”

Sebastian was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being a hiccup, followed by a soft, “Yeah..” 

Sighing, you had already started to get out of bed, getting ready to go pick up Sebastian. “Where are you? I��m coming to get you.”

Once Sebastian managed to spit out his location through his slurred speech, you were on your way. Pulling up to the boisterous club, you noticed Sebastian standing outside on the sidewalk.

You parked and climbed out, knowing damn well he'd need help if he really was anywhere near as drunk as he sounded over the phone.

Sebastian smiled when he noticed you, something you were definitely unaccustomed to after these past months. What surprised you even more was his arms wrapping around your waist as he took upon his drunk self to hug you. 

“Have you always looked this nice?” He asks as he pulls away, and you are forced to shake off the shock of the clinginess when he compliments you.

“Good to see you too,” You say, chuckling in embarrassment at his words, his unnatural actions not going unnoticed by you. “Here, let's get you into the car.”

Sebastian, lucky for you, wasn't one to fight the idea of going back to the hotel and almost eagerly followed your instructions. Your hands guided him in as he plopped unceremoniously down. Watching from the open door, you observed Sebastian struggling with his seatbelt, trying hard to click it in securely but failing miserably. Sighing, you bent over and did it for him before closing the door and crossing the car to get in the driver's seat again.

As you began driving, you imagined the car ride to be quiet, but Sebastian had other plans.

“Thank you for driving me,” he hiccuped, starting the small talk easy.

“It's no big deal,” You replied, glancing at him in the passenger seat. You were a little shocked to find him looking right back at you, his gaze shamelessly wandering your features.

“Look, I'm sorry for being really mean all the time,” Sebastian said suddenly, breaking your distracted train of thought. 

“It's okay,” you replied, gazing back at the road. He was drunk and you weren't sure if his words were as true as they would've been had he been sober.

“But it's not okay,” Sebastian hiccuped, “You're nothing but nice to me and I'm always so angry with you. Don't you ever get upset with me?”

You swallowed a little nervously, staring out the window. When you'd first joined Red Bull at the start of this season, you'd heavily admired Sebastian, but over time your opinion of him was altered through his harshness.

“I..” You mumbled, unsure how to state your view without possibly offending him, “Sometimes.”

Sebastian took a long time to respond after that, and the silence seems to shove you into the spotlight. After an awkward momentary pause, you find yourself blurting out your true feelings to Sebastian in a desperate attempt to end this silence that eats you up. He wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning, anyway. “I just wanted to be as good as you. I saw someone who was a great racer, and I strived to be like that. But then, when I did get to that level, I was met with nothing but resentment. And I'm not even sure I know why.”

More silence. The only noise is the sound of the car as it drives and you wish nothing more than the radio to be on to take away some of these unpleasantly long pauses.

“You probably think I hate you,” Sebastian slurred finally. From your peripherals, you saw him hang his head in shame and sit forward again.

That took you off guard. Through his harsh words, his angry glares, and the countless times he'd displayed his very obvious disdain for you, he'd made it clear that he did hate you, and quite vehemently. If not hate, then a strong distaste. Hell, you were partially certain you’d remembered him saying something in a press conference once. Now, drunken and lost from his wits, he was telling you he didn't feel that at all? That his appearance was not as it seemed all this time? “You don't..?”

“Me? Hate you? No. Quite the opposite, actually.” Sebastian exclaimed, drunken head snapping up to meet your gaze.

Oh.

A beat of silence. A confession that feels like a mouthful too big to swallow. “What?” You ask, mind spinning with what he could possibly mean. 

“I don't hate you,” Sebastian repeats. “Not anymore.”

This doesn't make sense. None of it does. Why does he tell you this now? And here, of all places? “Not anymore?” You repeat, a plea for him to elaborate.

“No,” he sighs, “I've been so stupid.. and stubborn. You threatened my reputation as the best Red Bull driver and I really didn't like that.. And, you were always so.. nice. So kind and cheery all the time. The cameras seemed to be attracted to you, you were press eye-candy and they took full advantage of that. I envied how carefree you were and how much you stole the spotlight off me. How perfect you seemed.”

For a minute you forget he's drunk. Forget that maybe he might not mean a word of this. That he's so out of his wits that he probably doesn't know what he's saying. And it's blissful when you do. To live in ignorance and take his words as they seem. The inebriated lack of clarity he experiences not once crossing your mind, even for just a moment. You allow yourself to think he means it.

“I–” you mumble, not entirely sure what to say, “What made you change your mind?”

Sebastian didn't speak right away, but you could see the way his face portrayed the internal battle he fought. “When I crashed into you and you didn't move. Not an inch.” He pauses, gulping before continuing on quietly, “I thought I’d killed you. I got out of my car the quickest I've ever before and fought to get to you. Something told me I had to see if you were okay. I'd never been so scared in my life.”

His admittance was something unexpected. You wanted to believe him, a small voice in your mind whispered repeatedly ‘drunk words are sober thoughts.’ Now, in your mind, you wonder what he could have possibly meant when he said he didn’t hate you, instead claiming to have felt something ‘quite the opposite.’ What was that opposing thing? It made you wonder if that soft twinkle in his eyes when he looked at you was just your imagination, or if it was really something to consider.

Silence settles like death over the car. Maybe it’s your lack of response, but it doesn’t matter because soon enough, you’re pulling into the hotel parking lot and helping Sebastian back up to his room.

It’s quiet as you lead him down the long hallway, passing many rooms before finally stopping at his door. He uses a keycard to unlock it, and he stumbles in as soon as he does. You walk into his hotel room, bringing him to his bed. You leave for a minute, going to the bathroom to grab the garbage bin and filling a glass with water from the sink. “Here,” You say, extending the glass to him, “Drink this,” You pause, setting the bin on the floor by the bed, “And use this if you need to throw up any time in the night.”

Sebastian nods, finishing up his glass of water.

You sigh, heading to the door and deciding your work is done. “Goodnight Sebastian,” you say to him.

“Goodnight Y/n,” He replies and you leave.

In your own room, you lay restless for a while, pondering everything Sebastian said to you, and for a minute, you like to believe something has changed. That this feeling in you is real and things are really different than they were.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

Months pass from that night, Sebastian never brings up the topic. Yet, things don’t fall back to how they were. You haven’t had any quarrels with the German since then. His words, albeit not at the front of your mind, still ring in your ears from time to time. By now, It’s the end of the season- The last race. And, you’ve won.

The feeling of parking your car at the first-place marker and climbing out onto its long body, hearing the crowds shouts of congratulations while the full weight of your accomplishment began to set in, produced an indescribable emotion. The jumps of joy you denied fighting against as you shouted and screamed in a disbelieving glee, your feet leaving the ground as you leapt around in a craze. As soon as you stepped off your car, you’d jogged across the tarmac and leaped at the fence, straight into the warm embrace of your team. Their acclamations washed over you while they patted your back and shoulders in celebration. When you had finally separated from your team and found yourself walking that short bridge- which, in comparison, had felt much longer and slower than it really was and stepped onto the podium for first place, the sounds of the crowd below you roaring in celebration, their loud cheers filling the air and ringing loud in your ears, made you realize they were cheering for you. As you stood in front of the world, on display, the national anthem for your country playing proudly for the winner, you could feel tears of joy start to well in your eyes.

You’d done it. You’d won the World Drivers Championship. The first female driver in history to ever win a WDC, and you had done it. Through years of hard work in karting as a child, pushing yourself all the way up into the formulas, you had accomplished it. When you’d made your debut into Formula 1, you could hardly believe it then. You never imagined you’d have made it this far into the sport. Of course, you’d dreamed of winning a WDC, as every other driver did. Ever since you were in karting it had been an unimaginable feat you always reached for, striving to one day achieve. A feat many drivers never got a glimpse of. To be dubbed the greatest in Formula 1 was something unbelievable. But here you were, standing atop the podium, being handed the first place trophy of the season’s final grand prix, securing your position as the World Champion. A constant reminder in your mind of ‘you were the champion- the best,’ made your happiness only increase. 

As you held the trophy in your hands, lifting it high over your head, you let the tears fall. There was a wide smile of joy plastered across your face, stretching from ear-to-ear. You held the trophy in the air, a silent echo of your words that screamed ‘I’ve won’ being conveyed through the simple act.

Eventually, you set down your trophy, careful not to break it, the champagne bottle now held in your hands as you popped the cork. You felt the sticky spray from the other podium members as they pelted you with the bubbly drink, while you took a short turn blasting either of them with the liquid. After a moment, you turned and faced the crowd, shaking the bottle and shooting champagne over them with a smile on your face. 

Suddenly, there was a wet feeling of champagne being poured over your head, soaking your hair and running down your race suit, it had you turning to face the other podium winners, one of them being none other than your teammate Sebastian Vettel. He was smiling broadly at you, holding his champagne bottle above your head, dumping the rest of the yellow liquid over you in congrats. You couldn’t care less about it, rather enjoying the celebration more and more as it progressed. You still could hardly believe the fact you’d won the WDC.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

The 2014 Red Bull team went out to party that night, the whole group hitting one of the team members' houses that was coincidentally not far from the location of the last grand prix, upon arrival, booze was promptly handed out.

You, on the other hand, strayed from partaking in the drinking of alcohol. Tonight was your celebration night, and you much preferred to spend it remembering rather than drunk off your wits.

You'd found yourself seeking an isolated place. Somewhere to go to regain your thoughts, almost as if you were relishing in your own victory but with silent regard.

There was a peacefulness on the quiet balcony that made admiring the sky easy. High above your head, the night sky stretched across the horizon like a blanket. Stars looked like pin pricks amongst the great ebony expanse. There was a slight chill to the evening air, but not one great enough for you to retreat back into the mansion. Inside, the party raged on, with loud music blasting loud enough you could hear it from your place on the balcony.

The sound of the sliding balcony door opening caught your attention. Reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the beautiful night sky, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Sebastian.

“Hello,” He greeted, “Whatcha doin’ up here?”

Sebastian was drunk. That much was obvious with the messy onslaught of slurred words and the slight stumble in his step as he joined you in leaning on the balcony.

“I wanted some time alone.” You answered. It wasn't a lie. You really did get away purposefully to be alone.

“Why? It's your party,” he hiccupped, his drunken gaze swimming with confusion.

You sighed. Yes, it was your party, but you just wanted to be alone for a bit to truly celebrate your victory without a full-blown party. “I know it’s my party.” 

Sebastian didn’t say anything after that, instead choosing to just stand silently beside you. Naturally, your gaze was drawn back to the sky, but this time Sebastian joined you.

The moon was a creamy ball of light against the charcoal of the sky, shedding its milky rays on the both of you and illuminating your faces beneath its glow. There was a gentle stillness to it all, a serenity to the scene, with the only sound being the whisper of the wind as it danced near-silently through the trees in the yard. The warmth from Sebastian lingered on your bare arms, his own skin so close to your own.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you said, admiring the stars.

Sebastian merely hummed, and it caused you to glance at him. His eyes weren’t to the sky, instead, they were transfixed on your figure.

You turned to stare into his eyes, neither of you broke the contact. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a twinkle of warm fondness in his gaze. No, actually, you were certain you had. 

The shared glance had sparked something within you. A shift that altered the feelings you experienced. Maybe it was all just a hoax. Confusion. But not even you could deny the whispered nothings screaming that maybe what you felt was most definitely something. Something scary. Daunting. Both too scared to traipse through the thick hazy smoke that stung the eyes and invaded every sense, but what neither of you knew was that cloud was protecting the hot embers and warm flames from within. The parts of them that yearned for each other deeply. However, everything was on the verge of coming undone.

You'd hardly realized you and Sebastian subconsciously closed the gap between each other until you felt the warmth of his booze-ridden breath fan your face. With that train of thought, your gaze had lowered to his candy-coloured lips. It took you a minute to process your action, and it was only another second before your gaze returned to his eyes embarrassedly.

Sebastian doesn't seem to notice– or mind– the longing look. His hand reaches up to brush a piece of hair from your face, and you can feel your stomach erupt in swarms of butterflies at the act. He doesn't let his hand fall, instead it moves to tentatively cradle your cheek.

Sebastian leaned in even closer, his lips just above yours. You didn't miss the lingering stare he left on your lips for a little too long. You knew what was about to happen if you didn't move soon. Something deep inside you had you glued to your spot. And for a moment, a split second, the realization that maybe you wanted this struck you.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered, soft slate blue eyes meeting yours, gaze gone unbroken with the sheer intensity of the moment.

Warm fondness rises through you, bubbling softly in your chest. Apprehension courses through your veins, hot like lava to warm your skin despite the late November chill. You won't deny Sebastian the right to kiss you, because deep down you know you want this. You need this. Forever since you'd met him, you've yearned for clarity, for him to draw that line in the sand. To you, this would either spell it out for you or leave you second guessing everything. And that was a risk you considered worth taking.

“I won't say no.” You replied at last, solidifying everything on your end. A wide range of emotions run through your veins, but you don't feel an ounce of regret or unwillingness to taste and feel his lips on yours.

That's all the permission he needs, as he closes that gap to press his lips to yours.

His lips are tender, gentle and soft in a way that makes your knees wobble and your chest tighten. Sebastian's other hand finds its way to your hip, his fingers curling into your skin. 

You find he tastes faintly of liquor, a reminder of his previous drinking. Yet, part of you chooses to ignore it. He wants this too, right?

Your head spins as you stand frozen to the spot, lips linked together. Sebastian inevitably pulls away for air, and you find yourself chasing his lips for a short moment. He notices, a soft smile gracing his features while his hand slides from your cheek to rest on your neck as he pulls you in for a second kiss.

The second kiss ends with both of you pulling away. Sebastian rests his forehead against yours, and it takes a while before you open your eyes again. 

Your breaths mingle in the air between each other, soft smiles present on your faces. High above, the moon observes in awe.

“Will you go out to dinner with me?” Sebastian asks.

Nodding, you reply, “Only if you promise to remember this when you're sober.”

The German’s grin widens, “I don't think I could forget.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙ ＊*• 

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!