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love44lew · 9 days ago

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just like him . max verstappen

彡driver max verstappen

彡genre drunk!max verstappen x gn!reader, angst to fluff

彡summary max comes home drunk after a long night of partying and celebrating another wdc

၊၊||၊ this story has been haunting me for weeks now and im always busy with school or just dont have motivation to write but im glad to finally get the last of it on this sunday evening. enjoy and ty for reading!! ၊၊||၊

彡warnings alcohol, mentions of child abuse

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max stumbles into the door after too damn long trying to get that stupid lock. why was the damn door locked anyway? he roughly plops down on the floor, kicking his shoes off and tossing them to the side without any second thought about them. he’s woozy and his head feels like its full of water and he can barely stand up straight—it was a long night of drinking and celebrating securing the drivers championship.

you would’ve went, but you weren’t feeling too well and even though max had insisted to stay home with you, you refused to let him miss out on celebrating such an achievement; hesitantly he went.

after a long 3 hours of drinking, dancing, partying him and his father had a long talk. a deep one, about his childhood. once again he’d taken credit for max’s achievements, once again telling max he should be grateful for the years of ‘tough parenting’. still the same stupid ass excuse he had to brag about how beating your kids made them world champions, what a way to ruin a night.

max stumbled into the kitchen, the house being left dimly lit since you’d expected him to come home late.

his head—the pounding became unbearable. ever since that talk with him the effects of the alcohol we’re hitting him harder then they should’ve for the amount he drank. he wasn’t drugged, was he? maybe his fathers words is what drugged him—but instead of sending him into a high, they sent him into a deep dysphoria.

he bent over, resting his temple on the cold marble of the island—the sensation easing his dizziness.

water, he needs water. but he couldn’t move from the position he was now.

“max..?” you called from up the stairs.

he just groaned in response

you smiled to yourself as you scurried down the stairs, knowing how he gets when he’s drunk. you were feeling much better than you were before, after throwing up and taking a nap, of course. “maxie,” the nickname rolled sweetly off your tongue, your tone much more comforting and soft. you turned the corner, spotting his tall figure hunched over the countertop his leg bouncing uncontrollably.

“hey, lets get you upstairs, hm?” you rubbed circles on his back as you picked up his arm and swung it over your shoulders. he’s heavy to say the least, so it wasn’t easy getting him up.

“y/n” max mumbled, stopping you at the base of the steps and using your shoulders to help him sit on them.

“yes max”

in your head, you celebrated being able to rest your shoulders for a couple minutes before helping him upstairs

“can you just be honest with me for one second here” his voice was hoarse and low, he could barely make eye contact with you. you can already understand this was a bad trip.

“always, love” your brows furrowed, his tone rising concern within you. there was a pause before he cleared his throat and his ocean blue orbs, that now appeared an almost dark grey in this lighting.

“do you think i’ll turn out like him” he almost whispered, just enough so you can hear him semi-clearly. the words stabbed you in the chest, where could he be getting these thoughts from. and whose ‘him’?

“him..?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side “max what are you talking about?”

“my dad” his eyes finally locked with yours “do you think im gonna turn out like him? what if the day comes where i would try to hurt you, if its by words or trying to put my hands on you? i never want to do that, i dont want that—thats not love. what we have, i feel this is love, but what if it wont be anymore, because of me?..” his eyes became sad, desperate and ashamed with himself, disappointed in himself for something he’s never done but the thought that he could possibly even try to hurt you makes him want to just curl up in a ball and cry.

“max-“ you reached a comforting hand out to him, just for him to reject it.

“no— i dont want to hurt you. you should go and find another guy who wouldn’t ever do that to you. im just like my fuckin dad, i even see his face in the mirror just to remind me of the doom im destined to” he hunches over, buring his face in his hands.

at this point you didnt even know what to say. you obviously are aware of the complex relationship max has with his father but he never never voiced these thoughts to you before, especially when hes drunk. hes all silly and quiet and sleepy usually, something must’ve happened to make him like this. everyone has their fears of inheriting their parents bad characteristics, max has told you about stuff he tries to do differently than him, but you never imagined it being this bad.

max is such a kind soul, he couldn’t even kill a spider. he has no reason to rage if he’s already taking all his frustrations out on track. outside the car he’s a calm dude, you’ve never heard him yell or be nasty to his engineers when he wasn’t on track. of course he has his occasional attitude towards the authority but never further than that. every time he acted out, hes worked hard to fix whatever caused him to do so.

the best thing you could do is just wait for him to finish talking so you could voice your thoughts, which you did so. you sat next to him, resting your head on his shoulder until he calmed town and flushed out all the words he had pent up in his brain. the two of you sat as his sobs filled the silence between you. saying something right away didnt feel like the right move anyway.

“you dont have to be him. youre not gonna be him because youre already better than him. max, youre still in your 20s and look all that you’ve accomplished—stuff he couldn’t dream to do in his entire life. you dont have a reason to end up like him because youre not a fuckin failure.” it might have been a little too much to talk so harshly about his dad, because its his dad. but whatever he did or said to him before he arrived home has caused the love of your life hysterical and paranoid for the future, so right now, he didn’t deserve the babying he receives from everyone around him and max. his sobs had calmed down at this point, the pause was enough for you to continue.

“and about me— i dont want anyone else. of course we’ll have our disagreements, we’ll piss each other off eventually. we’ll exchange words we dont mean and then we’ll immediately regret it after, thats just how things are. but id rather do that with you than another person because i’ll only ever want you. we’re in this together baby—and as long as i have you, theres always something to fight for because you’re worth fighting for. i made that decision the day i fell in love with you, and i never looked back since.” your heart, chest, and throat burned with every word that left your mouth. like confessing your love wasn’t hard enough the first time, here you are pouring it all out again. you keep your heart so sacred, all the world can fight for it and you’d still be stuck on that person you gave it all to. that person being max.

“i can only tell you how i feel, i cant convince you to think otherwise. but remember, i gave YOU my everything because thats the only thing i have to offer. i chose you because i see something in you that nobody else saw before, or sometimes dont even see now—“ not even your own father

“and now its my job to help you see those things within yourself.” your soft hands cupped his face so the two of you could fix on one another once again.

“just think about that”

his saddened eyes widened, like you had planted something in his mind. he melted into your touch, his eyes closing and his cheeks growing a deeper rose than before.

“i love you so much, i dont deserve you” he kissed your hands while mumbling his love for you.

“i love you too, but i disagree” you leaned in closer and kissed the bridge of his nose. he just sighed softly, he didnt feel like staring another debate on who loves who more. maybe in the morning.

max wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer and resting his head on your chest. you wrapped your arms around him, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. the two of you sat in silence, enveloping in one anothers warmth. his home was right here, with you.

“im thirsty” max mumbles, breaking the silence between you two. you chuckled silently. “okay baby” you helped him stand up and up the stairs, leading him to your room. max threw himself onto the bed. you turned around to fetch some water but a tired hand tugged your wrist.

“dont go” he nuzzled into your palm, his lips brushing over your fingers. “im not going anywhere honey, im just getting water for you” max whined in protest, his face was flushed into your hand like it was his only source of warmth— tingles fluttered your heart at the sight.

“you need water, do you want to be hungover tomorrow?” you leaned on your hip and narrowed your eyes curiously.

“no i need you, now come here im cold” he pouts, tugging your hand harder causing you to fall onto the bed with a cushioned thud. before you could even react, a needy, pouty max had already latched his body onto yours tightly, nuzzling into your shoulder and allowing the scent of his lover consume his senses.

you sighed softly, the messiness of his hair and the way his arms hug your body made you not want to move. your body relaxed in his arms as max’s soft snores muffled into the cloth of your (his) sweater. you raked your fingers through his soft blonde locks until you too eventually fell into your own sleep. the two of you tangled in each other, sleeping peacefully knowing that you both will always have a shoulder to lean on.

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d4yl1ghts · 4 months ago

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pretty

bellamy blake x fem!reader

summary: you’re trying to learn words in trigedasleng (grounder language) and the cocky yet attractive man, bellamy blake, decides to help you

A/N- sorry that this is so short and sorry that i haven’t posted in so long

You were sat in the cafeteria in Arkadia with Octavia as you waited for Clarke and the others to get back: they were looking for a way to reduce the radiation that would lead to everyone’s deaths. With that in mind, you had decided to attempt to learn some Trigegasleng because, surely, it would be helpful in the near future. Octavia had- somehow- already became familiar with the language and it had proven to be useful.

On the Ark, you had learnt Spanish and French with ease (even though it has never come in handy) but you just couldn’t seem to adjust and appreciate the stems of the grounder’s language. You simply stared at the list of words that Octavia had written down for you and zoned out as you imagined how the mission was currently going.

You nervously bounced your leg as you dreamt of the worst possible outcomes: you had always been an over-thinker. It was one of your many flaws. Octavia glanced to you as she sensed that you were no longer focused on the words. “Y/N.”, she mumbled, hoping to disrupt your daydream. Snapping your head to the side slightly, you turned to look at her. You hummed in response. “Keep your mind on the words. They’ll be useful and they’ll also distract you from the- judging by the look on your face- bad thoughts in your head.”, Octavia assured. You nodded. “Thanks, I’ll try to be fluent by the time they come back, just so I can prove Bellamy wrong.”, you smiled in anticipation. Bellamy and you had a bet going- if you couldn’t learn the words Octavia had given you by the time of their arrival, you’d have to clean his room.

As if on cue, Bellamy casually stepped through the door and into the room.

“Bel!”, Octavia let out in relief. She gently ran up to him as they both wrapped their arms around each other. He then marched over to your table. “Hey, Y/N. How are you getting on with these words?”, he questioned with a smirk on his gorgeous face. “Well, um, I actually know them all. Don’t I, Octavia?”, you looked to her for confirmation as your cheeks blazed at the lie. She shook her head slightly and chuckled. “Yep, she knows them all off-by-heart.”

“Let’s test you, then.”, Bellamy offered as he took in your flushed cheeks. “Okay, translate this sentence: Yu are meizen.”, he stated. Octavia’s lips curled upwards as her eyes shone with a knowing glint. Cautiously, you took a careful peek at the list before Bellamy caught you and hastily snatched it away. “No cheating.”, he teased. You sat there as you were swallowed by your own silence due to your lack of knowledge.

“Guess you have to clean my room for a week.”, he joyfully trudged off, finally showing his exhaustion from his mission. Once he had left the room, you glanced at the piece of paper. After staring at the word for a moment too long, you couldn’t believe it- miezen meant pretty. Was Bellamy hitting on you for the whole time?

From beside you, Octavia stifled her laugh as she analysed your shocked state. “You read it right. He’s been secretly pining for you ever since we arrived on that drop ship.”, she confessed and, if it were possible, you felt your cheeks heat up to a frightening temperature.

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x female reader #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake imagine #the 100 #the 100 x reader #the 100 imagine #fem!reader

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magicalbats · 6 months ago

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Tavern Nights (Sampo x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 5949

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, alcohol, coercion, manipulation, just generally skeevy/predatory behavior, age difference, size difference, public fondling, public nudity, implied public blowjob

A/N: My second commission from the donation's for Parm. I was once again lucky enough to get permission to post this for everyone to read and (hopefully) enjoy, and I am very glad for that. I just don't think Sampo gets enough love! Someday everyone who's been sleeping on him will regret it, I promise you that! Anyway, thank you so, so much for working with me on this @rabbbitseason I had a blast! ❤️

⭐

It's been a long, long time since he last frequented The Tavern as much as he has in just the past week alone. When he was young and still figuring out his place in this expansive universe, he’d spent countless nights here simply taking in the ambiance and the drink, with maybe even a bit of gambling on the side here or there. Maybe a bit of fucking too, when he found an interesting partner to take into one of the frequently used back rooms. And the Masked Fool’s had no shortage of interesting people.

But now he was older, arguably wiser and not quite so easily taken in by all the revelry and merrymaking of the familiar old haunt. In truth, he hadn’t thought he’d ever visit this place again after willingly parting with his mask. Sparkle drove a hard bargain though and after spending too much time with her on Penacony it was hard to tell her ‘no’ and actually mean it.

He’d tried. Really, he had. But he hadn’t meant it.

She’d seen right through it, of course.

Sparkle isn’t with him tonight, nor had she been at his side the previous time either. Just that first fateful evening, wherein she’d pretended to be the good little chaperone accompanying her charge back to where he belonged (according to her, at least) like a shepherd returning the lost sheep to its flock. She’d ditched him quickly enough after that but he was fine with it. Glad, actually, because he’d managed to find someone much more his speed than ole’ miss Sparkle who in many ways had proven herself nothing but trouble.

“Mister Koski! I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon!”

His poor heart practically melts into an unrecognizable puddle right then and there as you come bouncing over to him with an excited grin on your face. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had been so excited to see him, if ever such a person had existed at all. It does his ego a world of good, and he pins you with a dotingly indulgent smile when you come to a stop before him.

“Now, now. I told you to drop the formalities, didn’t I kiddo’? Just call me ‘Sampo’.”

“Okay, mister Sampo! Will do!”

Cute. He thinks it’s really quite cute in a way that doesn’t seem particularly fair to him, or any other man with a working pair of eyes and a functioning cock, but he isn’t about to tell you that. You were already fidgeting before him like you were flustered under his attention, or perhaps excited to be on the receiving end of it, and he didn’t want to break the illusion just yet.

In terms of young rookie Fools, you were perhaps the most bright eyed and bushy tailed he’d ever met. He’d seen more than his fair share over the years, had even been one himself at some point in the far distant past, but he’d never known one quite like you. Even putting aside your obvious fascination with him (only partially owed to his usual charms, he's willing to admit) there was something about you that just screamed … naive and a little too trusting. Like ‘please take advantage of me’ was stamped across your forehead in permanent ink.

Sampo wonders, not for the first time, how exactly you ended up here with a dainty little mask perched atop the crown of your head like a hat. A somewhat unsettling hat, albeit, but a hat nonetheless. It looks like the blank face of a doll, which he finds rather fitting for you, with a full set of luxurious lashes but no eyes and no hair. Just an adorable button nose and a tiny mouth set in a neutral pout. He probably would have found it a bit creepy had it not only added on to just how very interesting he considered you to be.

“Alright, enough of that. I’m just stopping in for one last drink before I head out.” He tells you with a velvety drawl. “Would you care to join me?”

At some point he was probably going to end up regretting this but for right now at least he deemed that a problem for Future Sampo to worry about. In the present, he was much more keen on having some fun with you first before any silly notions like impropriety or moral obligation managed to sink its claws into him.

At your eager nod, he reaches out to take your shoulder in what most would likely consider a too friendly gesture but you don’t even bat an eye at it when he steers you towards the back of the establishment. Finds a nice unoccupied booth in the corner, away from all the other Fool’s who have largely gathered around the bar to have their drinks and play cards with one another, the wagers of which could have ranged from anything as mundane as simple credits to the outrageous sort he’d seen on more than one occasion here. A long lost relic from a forgotten civilization, once, or even a mutually assured self destruction button courtesy of miss Sparkle herself. It was her favorite toy, after all.

Much to his satisfaction, you obediently sit when he nudges you into the booth, scooting over along the bench to give him some space to join you. Bending at the waist when a chorus of hoots and hollers rises up behind him, Sampo has to lean down and get close to your ear in order to ensure he’s heard over the raucous noise.

“What can I get you to drink, sweetheart? It’s on me.”

There you go squirming again, looking really quite pleased as you sit up a little straighter and round your shoulders for him. “Whatever you’re drinking is fine.”

How precious.

“Ooh, now that might turn out to be a bit dangerous if you’re not careful. I have a feeling I’m a tad more experienced than you when it comes to, uh, drinking.”

If you find the sleazy note in his voice at all off putting you certainly don’t show it, looking up at him with the kind of bright faced confidence only someone in their youth can pull off. ‘Take advantage of me’, indeed.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself.” You tell him candidly. “It’ll be your mistake if you underestimate me.”

Was that a challenge? If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were doing this to him on purpose.

“Pft. I bet. Okay then, just sit tight. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. I’ll be back momentarily.” He starts to straighten up but not without sliding his hand down from where it had reached out to brace against the backrest of the booth seat just behind you. Perfectly casual about it, Sampo palms the top of your head in a quick, harmless pat that shifts the little mask and ruffles your hair just so before pulling away entirely. He doesn’t stop long enough to take in your reaction or gauge what you think about it. He doesn’t really need to.

This was not the first time he’d touched you in such a seemingly off handed manner and he already knew you were preening under the attention. No matter how many times he’d tested the waters the reaction was always the same. You liked him. Wanted him to keep touching you like that, either knowingly or unknowingly, he couldn’t yet say for sure, but he was more than happy to give it to you regardless of the reason. Lucky you.

He returns to the table a few minutes later with a freshly made drink in both hands, watching carefully from under the fringe of his hair when he sets yours in front of you. It’s a dark, murky looking concoction that seems to announce in no uncertain terms that it’s potent and strong with just a glance. As expected, you don’t look quite so sure of yourself anymore when you take in the thick consistency inside the stout glass.

But you keep a brave face, which he has to give you credit for, especially when you don’t hesitate to pick it up at his nudging insistence. The first tentative sip has you choking at the taste even as you desperately try to blink away the tears that come into your eyes, and he can’t quite stop himself from laughing at your expense.

Sampo doesn’t push it on you anymore than that though, finding it much more entertaining to watch you slowly try to drink it all down completely of your volition. He doesn’t even need to wheedle you or coerce you into it. You just do it — because you had something to prove? Or was it because you wanted so badly to impress him that you were willing to get yourself drunk just to accomplish it? He isn’t entirely sure on that front either but it doesn’t actually matter. You were doing exactly what he’d hoped you would and that pleases him a great deal.

By the time an hour has gone by, you’re slumped against him in the booth with your head tilted back, resting along his bicep where it’s curled over the back of the seat. He’s kept you talking for the greater portion of your time spent together, alternating between one triviality or another just to ensure you don’t accidentally doze off on him. He could now name your favorite color, the school you’d attended back on your home planet and the breed of your first pet. You hadn’t struck him as the sort to be fond of Pettu Hamsters, bizarre little rodent-like beasts that laid eggs and curled themselves into tight balls for protection, but you’d assured him that you were quite fond of them. Given the no nonsense look you’d leveled on him, he believed you.

“And you know what happened next?”

It’s obvious you’re a little too relaxed to be self conscious anymore, and he doesn’t say a word about it when you not so subtly shift closer to him on the bench. You’re practically pressed right up against his side now but, still, he doesn’t make his move yet. Sampo may have technically been working to pull one over on you but that didn’t mean he was going to be a pig about it.

“I’d never seen a meteor shower like that before. All up close and personal, right outside my window. It was pretty cool but kind of scary at the same time.” You’re rambling about nothing in particular. Just a fond reminiscence of the long list of firsts you’d experienced upon leaving home, which Sampo listens in on as much as he needs to. There were a few other first time things he wanted to introduce you to, provided you didn’t fall asleep on top of him before then. “I thought for sure one of them was going to slam into the ship and — and vacuum us out into space! All I remember going through my head at the time was that I didn’t want to die like that. I can’t imagine it would feel great. What do you think?”

You tip your face towards him with the sluggish, heavy lidded lethargy of someone well and truly buzzed. Sampo just chuckles as he tips his chin down, cheek braced against his propped up fist for support.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night, darling. What was that you said earlier about being able to handle yourself?”

Unmistakable fluster creeps across your expression, distant though it may be under the hazy mask of intoxication. “I didn’t know you’d get me something so strong. Are you sure you weren’t purposely trying to get me drunk?”

Feigning hurt, Sampo draws his brows together in an overly affected lift and places his opposite hand over his heart. “Why, I never! Such a serious accusation to lobby at a gentleman of my esteemed standing. Just ask anyone here, missy, and they’ll tell you exactly what kind of upstanding, trustworthy guy Sampo Koski is!”

You giggle at his theatrics and reach over to weakly shove at him. Your arm seems to immediately lose all of its remaining strength though, and rather bonelessly flops down to stretch out along his thigh. He can see his moment to strike fast approaching but it still wasn’t the perfect time. Soon, very soon, just not quite yet.

“You’re funny.”

“We’re all a bit funny here, I’m afraid.” He murmurs, dropping his voice to a slyly suggestive drawl again. “You’ve still got some growing to do if you want to fit into that mask on your head. Want some pointers?”

Huffing softly at the suggestion, you visibly muster up the strength to send him a weak look of warning. “I’m already grown. I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now if I wasn’t, would I?”

Sampo sends a slow look of appraisal down at your chest, noting the weight behind the thin material of your blouse while images of what your bare breasts might look like dance through his head. Yes, there certainly would be no denying that you were of a mature build and filled out in all the right places.

“Mmm, if we’re talking physically then you’re right, of course. I doubt anything I say would help you get any taller.”

“Hey.”

“But I wasn’t talking about that,” He goes on, ignoring your interjection. “I meant your future as a Masked Fool. You haven’t drawn Aha’s gaze yet, have you sweetness?”

“… no.”

You look like you want to pout about that, and Sampo chuckles at the petulant tug of your mouth. Seriously too cute.

“Oh, but fret not, little one.” He coos. “You’ve got me here to show you the ropes, don’t you? I promise I’m a good teacher.”

You seem to think about that for a long moment, giving it the due consideration of someone who hasn’t yet picked up on the scam. Not that he could really blame you or the alcohol making your eyes look so heavy and tired. Sampo was good at the game. Always had been, even when he was younger, and his technique had only continued to improve over time. Most people assumed him far too goofy and painfully obvious to harbor any ulterior motives after he started laying it on thick enough. That was the real angle to his schemes, once you got right down to it. Hiding in plain sight was in many ways his specialty.

“What will you teach me?” You finally ask, roving your attention up towards his face once again. The way you look at him is so unassuming and guileless that he knew he could have offered you a tropical vacation home on Jarilo-VI and you probably would have bought into it without question. Poor thing.

The muscles along his back gradually start to tense with the building anticipation of finally making his move, of pouncing on his chosen prey to claim it for himself, and he leans down, practically engulfing you in the mass of his much larger frame. You feel as tiny sitting next to him on the bench seat as you look, far outclassed by his much taller, broader build and such a sharp contrast to your feminine stature. He could have easily overpowered you if that was how he’d wanted to go about it but, well, Sampo Koski was never one for doing things the hard way if he could help it.

His face now hovering just over yours with precious room to spare, he slowly reaches up to brush the tips of gloved fingers under your chin. Your lashes flutter at the touch, threatening to slide shut, but an attention grabbing upward nudge prompts them wide open again.

“There are a few things I can think of,” He purrs, secretly delighting in the way you start to squirm for him. Nervous or eager? He’d find out soon enough. “An old dog like me has his trusty bag of tricks, rest assured. I’d be happy to share some with you, if you’re interested?”

Your mouth parts, a tiny pink tongue inching out to glance over your lips and wet them. It almost makes him crack. Almost throws all of his self control and restraint right out the window, but he forces himself to wait. To let you respond first before he goes in for the kill. It would make everything so, so much more satisfying in the long run.

“Okay.” You finally murmur. “I’m game.”

“Glad to hear it. Shall we seal the deal and make it official then?”

A small sound of confusion slips out of you but then he’s leaning the rest of the way in, closing the scant distance. You don’t protest or pull away. Just watch him with wide, fascinated eyes as he tilts his mouth to slot against yours, and a dull jolt works through your body at the contact. He keeps it brief and gentle, a mere brushing of mouths, before pulling back enough to pin you with a lopsided smirk.

“There. Now it’s a promise.”

Tentatively, you reach up to touch your bottom lip. “Is that how all the Fool’s make their promises?”

He shrugs broad shoulders, tracing shapes along the side of your neck with blunt fingers. “Only the really fun ones.”

Extending his thumb to prod the underside of your chin, Sampo carefully nudges your face back up at him until your hand finally falls away and you comply, offering him a vaguely flustered look.

“Another, for good luck?”

The first real glimpse of uncertainty flashes across your face at that. You hesitate, flicking a quick glance behind him at the rest of the bar and —

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about them.” Soothingly, he cups your cheek in what otherwise would have been a comforting gesture had it not been for the way he gives the roundest part of your face a quick, mostly harmless pinch. “They’ll mind their business so there’s no need to get shy on me now. Besides, I’ve already kissed you once haven’t I? What harm could one more do?”

You still don’t appear to be totally convinced but you give him a brief, stilted nod anyway. He’s pretty sure it’s the unmistakable gleam of excitement he can see reflecting back at him in your gaze, unsquashable despite your obvious nerves, and Sampo feels a smoldering hot rush of victory sear through his veins when he leans into your space again.

His mouth brushing over yours in a light, coaxing caress, you simply sit there for a long moment of indecision like a frozen, petrified statue. So still he isn’t even sure if you’re breathing. But then, thoroughly dashing that impression against the floor, you come alive under him all at once. Give a squirming shudder and press up into him, fervently kissing him back as if in outright challenge. He feels your lips trembling against his and he can’t quite keep the leer off his face when he increases the pressure to kiss you just a little bit harder, claiming you as his own.

The discordant noise of revelry and drinking, Fool’s eternally at play, seems to highlight the poignancy of what’s happening in the booth situated in the far back while at the same time it also recedes to a far distant thrum of vague sounds. Like everyone else in The Tavern was on the other side of some great, reverberating tunnel. His attention is focused entirely on you and the way you slowly bring your hand up to tentatively brace the palm of it against his chest. Your fingers feel dainty, something small and fragile, and he quickly decides to return the favor.

Sliding his own hand down off your cheek, over the line of your neck and past the soft jut of your clavicle, he takes a slow pass over one breast. They’re big but his hands are bigger still, and it easily cups around the full weight of it behind your blouse. You react like he’d electrocuted you, jolting in your seat as your head tips back and your lips slacken, dropping open as if to moan. But he just follows you, keeping his lips sealed over yours so he can plunge his tongue into that cute, hot little mouth and truly taste you for the first time.

Noising an incomprehensible kitten mewl against him, you close your hand around his shirt and give it a halfhearted tug. Like you wanted to pull him in closer but you weren’t quite confident enough to follow through on that urge; like your head was spinning a shade too fast from the alcohol as much as the surge of physical responses in your body to make any sense of what was happening and act on it.

Sampo can tell you’re enjoying it though. It doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure that out.

The proof is as plain as if you’d spoken the words aloud. You don’t bite at his tongue when it invades your mouth to explore every little nook and cranny inside, nor do you pull away in revulsion when he leisurely fucks it towards the back of your throat in slow, suggestive motions. You also don’t attempt to slap his hand away when it comes back up to caress over the fullest part of your breast again. He can feel your nipple rapidly stiffening underneath the layers of your clothes, responding to him with a great deal of eager enthusiasm that has you shuddering and pressing your legs together. So sensitive.

He could really exploit that if given half a chance.

At length, he breaks apart from the kiss with a low, seedy exhale of deeply felt masculine pleasure. Peers down at you with an easy, self satisfied grin, but you look to be a bit out of it and lost in your own little world. With your head tipped back and rested against his arm where it’s still curled over the top of the booth seat, you merely blink up at him through a hazy, distant gleam in your eyes. Panting softly, as if you couldn’t quite catch your breath while he was idly fondling your tit. Hardly any wonder there, given how much you seemed to be feeling everything in stunning high definition, but he wasn’t quite done with you yet.

“Oh my, it seems like someone is having a good time now. I wasn’t expecting you to look at me like that, kiddo’. You’re gonna’ have this old man falling in love if you’re not careful.”

Your breath catches in obvious surprise, a vaguely startled expression creeping onto your face. Sampo doesn’t give you a chance to question him or realize that he was only teasing though, and instead tips his attention downward to regard the weight of your chest. A fresh wave of innate satisfaction washes over him when you do the same, following his line of sight to peer down at yourself as well.

“You’re looking a little hot under the collar, y’know. Let me help you with that.”

Fingertips tracing the path over your breast, he reaches lower and you finally seem to snap out of it. You give a quick start, fumbling to get your hands down to try and grab at him, but even with both sets of digits locked around his blocky wrist it’s easy enough for him to tug your blouse free of your cute little skirt and get it inched up enough to reveal a smooth strip of your fluttering stomach.

“M - mister Sampo!” You squeak, halfheartedly twisting in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. “We’re — we’re still in public, you can’t - -“

“Hush now, sweetheart. Your ol’ pal Sampo’s got you. There’s nothing to be afraid of. See?” With a taunting flick of his hand, your blouse rises up another inch or so, and with it so too do your eyes grow even wider. “No ones even paying attention to us over here so they won’t see anything. Trust me. I’ll make sure of that. After all, you’re mine now, aren’t you? Can’t have anyone else eyeballing the goods, right?”

Numbly, your gaze roves up to regard him again. There’s an unspoken question behind your expression, a sentiment that you hesitate to give voice to, and he just hums a playful little tune under his breath while he continues to toy the hem of your top. One more nudge is all it would take to reveal what sort of bra you were wearing and he couldn’t wait to find out. His bet was on something soft and girly, with a bow or maybe even a bit of lace? But first …

“Don’t tell me you’re really that scared, sweetness? Even with me here?”

Your brow pinches inward, creating an adorable little crease between them to go with the almost petulant pull of your mouth. An internal war wages, bloody and violent, behind your eyes while you no doubt weigh out the multitude of options at your fingertips. The truth or a deceitful lie, which would you ultimately decide? Sampo knew which one he would pick had it been him standing under the spotlight but he’d meant it when he said you still had a lot left to learn. That part, at least, hadn’t been facetious.

Finally making your decision another series of heartbeats later, you at last give him a mute nod. It pulls a soft, doting sound from deep within his chest and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside as he dips his face close again, rumbling a low sound of approval.

“Aww, you poor thing. It’s okay though. Just trust your old friend Sampo, okay? Here, I’ll even make it better with another kiss.”

This time you eagerly tip your face up to meet him halfway, and a soft sound of need puffs out of you when your lips meet again. He kisses you deeply now, claiming your mouth for himself and swiping his tongue inside with a possessive, demanding gesture that has you mewling faintly in response. As he’d half suspected you would, you positively melt under him like you were happy to give into the pulse pounding heat and the risk of the moment as long as he was there to guide you through it. To lead you and to teach, just as he’d promised you he would.

Thoroughly placated now, you don’t protest or make a move to stop him while he inches your shirt the rest of the way up, but you do shudder uncontrollably at the first waft against your exposed chest. Still fervently kissing you, Sampo cracks an eye open and peers out from under the fringe of his hair to look at what he’s working with. A dull thrum of pleasure promptly races up his spine when he sees that your tits are just as juicy and tantalizing as he’d thought they’d be, and he voraciously watches them heave within the confines of your pale peach colored bra. It’s a lovely shade that complements your skin tone perfectly but he’s a bit too impatient to simply admire it or the dainty blue bow on the front for very long.

You groan into his mouth, arching against the booth, when he casually slips a long digit under the middle center of the dainty undergarment but he just swallows the noise and tugs. Doesn’t even give you a moment to understand what he was planning to do, and your breasts spill out with a meaty jostle as the cups slide up and away. Your nipples are already stiff and aching when they hit the air, pointing up off your chest in demand of attention, and you finally tear your face from his with a threadbare, faltering gasp.

Sampo can’t quite find the wherewithal to follow after you and lay claim to your mouth again when he was so damnably transfixed by the sight of your bare tits, round and squeezable in all their fleshy abundance. He feels suddenly faint from how violently his cock instantly springs up in his pants to shove at the inside of the zipper, only vaguely aware of you turning your head away in bashful reproach while your hands come up to crowd together over your chest.

Oh, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He coos at you, the usually soft inflection of his voice noticeably absent now. It seems to have been replaced by a deeper, gravelly edge that makes his customary sing-song fall short.

You don’t seem to mind though, much too preoccupied with softly whimpering when he takes one of your hands by the wrist and gently pries it away, curling it up and back so he can juggle it over to his opposite hand. Half restrained now, you can’t do much else but anxiously squirm in place when he reaches back down to lightly tweak the exposed tip of your breast between thumb and forefinger.

“Ahhn!”

“Mmm, these are awfully tender, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t really expect a response, which is good, because you can’t seem to catch your breath long enough to actually speak. All that comes out of your mouth are short, tender little gasps and the softest moans his old ears have ever heard. It sounds like the sweetest music and he makes an effort to file it all away for later, when he was back in Belobog and lonely in the middle of the cold, frozen eternity that had yet to see any noticeable improvements since the Stellaron Disaster there was neutralized. Maybe someday it would, hopefully even soon, but he wasn’t expecting to return from this trip to find lush fields of green stretching as far as the eye could see.

This night spent with you here in The Tavern was going to keep him comfortably warm for many more to come though, and he eagerly folds himself over you so he can bend down and seal his mouth around that pert, straining bud. You give a tiny little cry, a sensitive yelp that you quickly try to stifle, but not fast enough.

Releasing his hold on your wrist, Sampo snakes his arm around the back of your head and covers your mouth with his broad palm. You let out a muffled protest behind his glove and try to turn your head away but it’s no use. He’s so much bigger and stronger than you that he can easily hold you in place no matter how you squirm or weakly shove at his forearm. Still sucking on your sore little teat, his mouth working the fleshy nub to a tight coil, he rolls his eyes upward to look at you from this angle.

If he’d thought you were pretty before, now you were downright gorgeous. That hazy, flustered look of begrudging pleasure really suited you. Especially when it was because of what he was doing to you.

He isn’t sure how much more of the anticipation he can stand when his cock was already aching, practically throbbing inside his pants, and he at least disengages from your breast with a noted hint of regret some moments later. In the wake of his attentions your stiff little teat is left flushed a noticeable shade darker than when he’d started and glistening with a fine sheen of sticky, fast cooling spit. The sight alone makes him groan, low and gravelly, as he looks upon it with longing.

Oh, how he would’ve loved nothing more than to simply suckle at both of them for an hour or two but this was hardly the right place or time for him to indulge like that. Even what he had in mind for you had the potential to backfire with spectacularly disastrous (yet still amusing) results. It was time to get on with it before anyone’s attention was drawn towards the far back corner and curious interlopers came creeping over to check what was happening.

“You seem to be quite sensitive, darling. Even moreso than I initially thought, and somethiiiiing tells me you’re going to be a screamer so we’ll have to play it a bit safe.” He murmurs, teasing you with a quick wink as he straightens up and allows his free hand to slide down lower to pinch at the hem of your skirt.

Already askew from all of your fidgeting, it doesn’t take much for him to pull it up enough to reveal your panties moulded to the puffy outline of your cunt. Even just a quick glance assures him you’re wet and sticky given the way the matching peachy material sticks to you and he gives his tongue a soft click as if in reproach.

“Really now, are you sure the possibility of getting caught isn’t exciting you? Well, you’re a hundred years too early to try and pull one over on Sampo Koski, I promise you that.”

He shifts back into his seat to settle in next to you again before releasing his hold on your mouth. You promptly suck in a much needed lungful of fresh air, swaying somewhat unsteadily on the bench, but the reprieve is short lived. Grabbing you around the middle, Sampo effortlessly manhandles you around so he can pull you half into his lap, partially sprawled out across the seat and perfectly positioned over the tent in his trousers. Your little mask has been almost completely dislodged from its perch atop your head in all the shuffling, and he reaches up to pull it the rest of the way off while his other hand busily works on his zipper.

“How about this,” He starts, using his most effective and well practiced salesman pitch, feeling much too hot and reckless to reconsider the wisdom in this move. If you finally decided you’d had enough of him and all his pawing it wouldn’t be hard for you to put him out of commission for the foreseeable future in this particular position. But, well, he didn’t really think he needed to worry about that too much. “Let’s keep that mouth of yours busy for right now and I’ll make it up to you later, huh? Whaddya’ say? I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

Panting and flushed, you slowly lift your face to regard him. A bright, sparkling gleam flashes through your eyes and you grin, looking like you were seconds away from bursting out into uncontrollable, wild laughter. You looked like a kid on Christmas morning being handed the one present she’d wanted more than anything else in the whole wide world and that youthful, beaming enthusiasm just makes his balls draw up achingly tight in heady anticipation. He couldn’t wait to sink himself into you. Any part of you. It didn’t really matter which, when you had him so painfully stiff in his pants and more worked up than he could recall being in a very long time.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mister Sampo.”

He almost laughs too, feeling the familiar bubbling sensation gleefully rising in his chest, but it’s swallowed up and doused by a shaky groan of relief when he finally manages to fish his cock out. It was starting to make more sense to him, why you were here rather than anywhere else in the vast cosmos, but he didn’t care enough to dig for any real answers.

All that mattered was that you were interesting and you were fun, and as long as the two of you were having fun together then everything else was irrelevant to him.

⭐

Crossposted: here

#honkai star rail #star rail #sampo koski #sampo x reader #self insert bullshit

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 9 months ago

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For the asks - "I wish you would write a fic where..."

Would you ever do a follow up to little bat? 🖤🖤

Can be read as a follow-up to Little Bat but also as a standalone. For a summary: your boyfriend tried to choke you after getting greedy that you were outshining him. Xaden came to your rescue but while the threat was taken care of some damage remained.

Things hunting us

“She has to train”, Garrick muttered under his breath as he and Xaden looked over the cadets filling up the training grounds. “You told me that ten times today”, Xaden pointed out keeping his tone low. “Proves my point that you’re not listening”, Garrick said through gritted teeth. Xaden didn’t need to look at his friend to see the frustration. Things had been uneasy ever since the attack. With people mostly fearing for themselves. Weary eyes bouncing around the rooms.

“She was nearly choked a week ago”, Xaden still felt as if someone was choking him now. He was confused. Mostly. With himself. He wasn’t sure why he had stayed the night after. Well, he had told himself that he stayed to protect you. Keep an eye on you. But then he stayed a day after. And one after. Until being close got too much and now he was running away in full speed. “Xaden, I get it believe me. I had a go at that fucker myself but rules are rules”, Garrick pointed out, “You, I, we can’t keep making excuses for her, we don’t run this place”.

And he knew it was true, it was. Xaden had been covering up for you ever since and even he was running out of ways to fill in your absence. He dragged a hand over his face as he rounded the corner on the second floor. Stopping hesitantly before his knuckles beat against the wood.

“It’s Xaden, can I come in?”, shit did he sound desperate? He should have kept his tone more raw and cold. He heard ruffling on the other side. Slow movements followed right by. Then the doors swung open. And here you were. Hair in a messy bun. Dark bags beneath your eyes. One's that weren’t there the last morning that he left you. So you probably hadn’t been sleeping well.

“Hey”, you rasped out, wrapping our sweater tightly around your shoulders. “Hi”, he muttered back. And here it was that urge to keep you locked up. To keep you away from everyone. To keep you safe. Bubbling deep within. “I thought that we should try going to the communal floor today” if only people who feared him saw him. With his soft voice and all. “I’m fine thanks”, you breathed out, stepping back and reaching to close the door but Xaden pushed his boot forward, blocking the way.

“Yn, you can’t keep doing this”, his palm pressed against the wood. You didn’t fight it. You stepped back as well. Letting him into your room. “He’s taken care of”, Xaden promised but you shook your head. Turning back only to twirl back angrily, “And who is taking care of this?”, you pointed. Your neck was a canvas for all the colors possible. Angry finger marks were even more visible than the night of the attack. An angry tear slipped past your cheek and Xaden instantly stepped forward.

“Look at me”, he said softly but you simply hooked your head. “As your wing leader I am ordering you to”, his tone was firmer this time. Demanding. Angry eyes met this. But anger was good. Angry meant that there was still a spark left in you.

“Own it”, he said, you let out a bitter chuckle, “You’re inside”. “No, you own it”, he said once more. Keeping his grip on the side of your face firm but not enough to harm.

“Some weak ass shit tried to go the easiest route”, Xaden searched for your eyes but you didn’t give in. Emotions were all over the place. “He couldn’t outrun you so he took the coward's way out. He abused the power he had over you”, he continued. He wasn’t big on speaking. But words came easy when they were shared between you both.

“From here on now. You will not shed a single tear over him. You will scrap him out of your head because he didn’t deserve you. And you will walk out this room with your head held high and show everyone that if they try messing with you they will not walk away from the fight”, now your face was cradled in both of his palms and for the first time you glanced up at him.

“But it wasn’t me, wasn’t me who stopped him”, your voice was barely a whisper. “So what”, Xaden shrugged. “So they can easily do what he did”, you whined, feeling the panic rising once more. “No they can’t”, Xaden said firmly, and when he said that you were gonna argue back he added quickly, “They can’t because if they even breath in your direction I will make sure that they regret that they were born”.

Silence filled the room. For a moment it felt as if the two of you were not even here. That nothing else mattered that it was just too. But then you stepped back. Putting distance between you both, “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so nice?”, you muttered. You had heard endless stories of how ruthless this man was. No heart. No soul. But you had seen none of that. He was nothing like people portrayed him.

“Because I want to”, he shrugged, lips curving into a grin. “No, Xaden”, you pointed a warning finger at him. “I do, now”, he said, reaching to undo his leather, “Wear this while you’re at it. Lunch starts in ten minutes”. You caught his flying jacket midair. Instantly pressing it to your chest. But your brain was screaming at you, “We can’t wear other cadets' clothes”, you argued but Xaden only hummed in answer, “Shift in the rules”. His fingers tilted your chin up, “Now that you’re mine you can”.

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson x you #xaden riorson x oc #xaden riorson iron flame #xaden riorson fourth wing #xaden x reader #xaden x you #xaden imagine #iron flame imagine #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x you #fourth wing x reader

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yaekiss · 1 year ago

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#mailroom open! i hope the event is still open —if not, feel free to disregard !! i’m looking to send a letter to cyno confessing my love, and looking for a letter w/ yan + nsfw themes back! i love the petname bunny, but any are fine with me!

letter and gift below the hearts. congratulations on 400 !!!

the letter is scrawled on parchment paper, the handwriting a bit messy and hurried. the craftsmanship looks like it was a draft of many — is it possible the sender sent the wrong version of the letter?

“to cyno,

to think it has been merely two weeks since my departure from under your watch. i understand i’m supposed to be focusing on my work, completing my assignment and coming back, but i keep getting distracted.

i wouldn’t say it’s my fault in my entirety, because frankly, it’s you who is distracting me from the duties you sent me on. my mind keeps racing back to thoughts of you, you, you, and it’s impossible to look forward when all i want to do is have you order me around again in the desert.

leaving you was a pain. i didn’t want to go. i crave to be curled against your side and to really, truly love you, but it’s so inappropriate of me. insubordinate.

i’m writing this because i know i can never send it. my thoughts, my emotions — i would be jeopardizing my station. i need to focus, but it’s hard when i know you’re so far.

how embarrassing of me to write this to you. it’s childish of me to think you would really ever take notice.

i should throw this letter away before i fall asleep at my desk and mess it up with the one i really want to send you.

signed, your wannabe beloved.”

the letter makes no mention of the gift that came wrapped with it. it seems that the author really did send the wrong version. the gift enclosed was a bottle of wine, some photos to be included with a report, and some paperwork regarding the assignment they were on in liyue. when opened, it smelled faintly of perfume. “for filing, so they don’t get lost.” read a note attached to the papers and photos.

꩜ Letter Content: GN! Dom! Reader x Yan! Sub! Cyno, no gendered terms for reader, Cyno calls you "bunny", implied abuse of authority, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Cyno, lmk if I missed anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: You wouldn't believe the number of puns I had to listen to... they were all rabbit related too... ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

There’s a cardboard box dropped off at your hotel doorstep when you return from your day’s duties.

It reminds you of the kind you see hugged in your colleagues’ arms when they transfer out of your office and to a different jurisdiction or during the bittersweet retirement of a senior staff member. For a moment, the thought of Cyno, the General Mahamatra, taking offence to your confession letter cruelly crosses your mind and you dejectedly bounce the notion of getting fired from your job around in your head as you move to go pick up the box.

However, you soon discover that it is anything but a termination, evident from a heart-shaped envelope that rests shyly on the top of the box. A sense of hope bubbles up in you and you quickly move everything inside, eagerly opening up his letter. Inside the romantic envelope is his response, folded flawlessly into a heart as well. After unfolding it and doing your best to smooth out all the creases in the paper, you rake your eyes over the parchment, noting how his handwriting is identical to the one you always see in official reports. But to see such a font spelling out his love for you has you in disbelief. His letter reads:

“A reply to my dearest bunny. Can I call you bunny? Or should I call you mine?

Starting off, I need to reciprocate your confession, it won’t be ice of me to leave you in the cold. Haha, I wish I could’ve seen your reaction at that joke. On a more serious note, I would be lying to say that I don’t have any feelings for you. You caught my eye when I first saw how admirable you truly are, bunny. Now, you might not think so yet yourself but I’ve personally witnessed it in the little things you do, in your passions, in your dreams. Truly inspiring, bunny.

Thank you for the timely submission of your report again, bunny. Impeccable work as usual, I can always count on you for a job well done. The wine was a thoughtful gift too, if only I were able to share it with you in person. Perhaps I should reward you for being such a hard worker, I could be all yours to use, if you’d want me. Gods, I might be the General Mahamatra but the power you have over me is unfathomable. Would you allow me to lay my head in your lap, to let my hands trail up your calves and thighs, to bury my head between your legs? Maybe you’ll even have me call you General for the night instead, perhaps I’ll scream your title until daylight. I can satiate you in any way you’d like, I’m giddy with desire for you, bunny.

You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get closer to you, it was simply fated that you were transferred under me a while back, bunny. That previous superior of yours wasn’t the best either, always so harsh on you, aren’t you glad you’re under my watch now? If I can be frank (even though my name is Cyno), I never wanted you to take up the Liyue assignment, it wasn’t my idea in the first place. I loathe that I had to send you for it. What if you got hurt? What if you went missing? What if you fell for someone else? It simply won’t do, bunny.

Thankfully, I’ve managed to find someone to relieve you of your post in Liyue. Let’s just say that they needed this “learning opportunity” more than someone as experienced as you. In the box are all the required paperwork for you to hand over your duties and return to Sumeru. I expect to have you back by my side within a week. Don’t keep me waiting too long, I want to finally show you how much I’ve yearned for you all this time. I just hope you’re a hands-on learner, my bunny.

Fated to be yours,

- Cyno -

P.S.: Would you ever show me the version of the letter you originally meant to send?”

Lifting the cover off the cardboard box, you see an assortment of gifts he prepared for you. Bundles of your favourite snacks, little trinkets, and a small journal tucked to a corner. Opening it up, you glance over the different lines scribbled on it and realise that they’re all cheesy pickup lines and puns from Cyno. There’s one that says, “Nobunny (nobody) compares to you” and another that reads, “You got my heart jackrabbiting for you”. A lewder one says, “Let’s fuck like rabbits” At the bottom of the first page, he wrote, “I save my best jokes for you, bunny ♡”.

Additionally, what also catches your eye is a holographic copy of a TCG card of you in a durable clear casing, it produces a brilliant iridescent sheen when you slowly turn the card side to side in the light. Did he specially commission one of you? Setting the card on your bedside table, you continue going through the box.

True to his words in the letter, there’s a neat stack of paperwork stowed carefully in it. Flipping through the pages, you discover that it comes along with paid for travel arrangements from Cyno. A closer look reveals that all of them are scheduled to get you back to Sumeru as fast as possible. Just as you want to place the stack back into the box, a loose scrap of torn paper slips from it and flutters onto the floor.

The only few words on it you can unfortunately make out are “pulled strings”, “transfer”, and the crossed out name of your previous superior.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

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afreakingdork · 7 months ago

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This is a bit embarrassing to admit and I’ve been putting off sending an ask for weeks, but seeing as Weak Spot is almost complete I figured it’s now or never; I daydream about the world you’ve created all the time, it’s like my go-to happy place in my head. Before I say anything I just wanna make sure you know I’m not asking you to write this, Weak Spot is your story and I already know what you have planned will make me weep on another Saturday morning. I just really want to share my thoughts because your story has been living in my head rent free like ever since I binge read 1-39 in one weekend. Do you think it’s possible that Donnie and Chester will ever meet again? I’ve been imagining what a wedding chapter might be like since 45 and my favourite ‘what if;’ I’ve come up with is what if Y/N were to send an invitation to Chester? I think I just really want Chester to see how much Donnie has grown and give him that ✨approval of a parental figure✨ he so craves. Perhaps the invitation being instrumented exclusively on Y/N’s behalf as a surprise for Don? I really wanna know what you might think 人´∀｀)

Oh gosh, no need to be embarrassed because I do the same thing! It's literally how I come up with all my little ideas! I really appreciate you sharing this and I'm proud of you for being brave to do so.

Narratively, it doesn't make sense for Donnie to meet Chester again sadly. Sometimes you bounce of people in your life and the interactions don't go the way you want. That doesn't mean that because you had to part ways that they weren't important. Sometimes those people you meet in blips are the most important of all (exactly why Sandwich Spot exists, but outside the main story because while it helps point the exact moment Donnie realized life existed outside of himself, it's not something reader will ever know firsthand, but they do know it because it shaped how Donnie is now).

So Donnie will never see Chester again, but that being said... I couldn't help but be inspired by what you wrote. so please, have this gift...

A moment in time in the not so far flung future that may or may not happen in Soft Spot:

He was getting too old for this.

"Come now! Violet can walk herself." Chester urged.

Or Harry had a point.

"But, pop-pop! She's so slow!" Jade whined where she was pulling her little sister.

Those morning swim classes were looking more and more appealing.

Violet pulled back on the arm that was wrenched in her sister's grasp.

Harry had been more spry since he started attending.

"What was it you were teaching me about sayings?" Chester tried a new tactic.

Meanwhile, Chester had only gotten lazier in retirement.

"Oh!" Jade lit up and let go to think with her entire body. "Let's see..."

His chair sat him so well, though.

Violet righted herself from where she toppled over and took a breath.

He'd always thought with his first grandchild getting older, he'd have to do less lifting.

"It's the one about the cow!" Jade hopped.

With the second, however, it had doubled his required strength.

"Close... How about another animal?" Chester smiled.

He wouldn't trade them for the world though.

This time recognition came to Jade with a slow glow. "You lead a horse to water..."

What a happy life he had the honor of living.

"But..." Chester nodded for her to continue.

Violet got herself onto her two feet and took a few shuffling steps toward him.

He prepared for that weight on his hips and held his hands out ready for her.

"You can't make him drink..." Jade curled a finger to her lips. "So with Vi...?"

With a grunt and groan, Chester got Violet up in his arms.

The little one curled against him, fatigued.

The park was a big, exciting world for a toddler.

"It means..." Chester paused in case Jade wanted to come to the conclusion herself.

Instead, her eyes shined as she stared up at him, ready for the answer.

"You can do everything in your power to help someone, but you can't force them to accept it." He explained.

Jade took a few steps toward him and pondered so hard it made her forehead scrunch up.

She was adorable.

A huge stock of black fabric passed by like a moving obelisk.

It pulled Chester's eye where he readjusted Violet's load.

It wasn't an inanimate object, but a long black coat.

It donned a very tall man who moved to the other side of the playground.

There, he found a spot to stop and in a turn revealed a blotch of green.

Topped with a shock of rich purple.

Eyes wide and free hand suddenly flapping anxiously for Jade's, Chester felt himself pale.

Donatello.

He hadn't seen the boy in years.

After the first few, Chester had been left to hope that Donatello had only taken his advice.

Despite the bitter end, he wished him nothing, but the best.

Donatello spoke.

Too far away and with a bustling park between them, there was no way Chester could hear.

What he could do was look down.

Where a joyful, albeit tired looking counterpart animatedly responded.

Chester's lips parted.

The second person then looked down before offering something up.

A small bundle whose lavender blanket wriggled to reveal another, much, much smaller green mutant.

Donatello took the baby and brought the child up to his face to coo something.

The older mutant's eyes gleamed.

Chester knew that look.

The one that topped eye bags as deep as canyons.

It was one he once sported.

It was the one his son-in-law now wore.

It was the look of a new father.

The way they looked at their own.

Donatello had a partner.

Donatello had a child.

"What's wrong, pop-pop?" Jade's voice broke in, thunderous amongst the many others.

Chester looked down and felt the tears streaking his cheeks.

He only gave a bright smile and continued to hold his hand out.

Jade took it and continued to stare up at him. "Are you hungry? Vi cries when she's hungry. Let's get you some lunch!"

Chester nodded and moved to leave the park with Jade in tow. "That sounds wonderful."

#ask #weakspotfic

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hannahssimblr · 5 months ago

Text

July seeps into August in a yellow haze. The heat has stupefied the village, slowing all movement, the tourists wading through the humid streets with ice creams melting down their hands, the only kind of food it feels acceptable to eat. It hasn’t rained in weeks, since that first storm of summer, and the landscape struggles. The grass in the local pitch has shrivelled, and the earth has become a powdery dust that fills the air every time our football skims it. It keeps sticking to the sun cream on our skin. Every evening I need to wash an extraordinary amount of grit, dirt and sand out of strange places, like the creases in my elbows, and the webbing between my fingers and toes.

I launch the ball down the pitch to where Jen is bouncing foot to foot near the goalpost, and wander towards the sideline to mop sweat from my brow with the t-shirt I stripped off an hour ago.

“You want water?” Claire O’Gorman holds her pink metal bottle to me. It jangles with the fluffy charms and beads clipped to it. I shake my head. Jen saw her kissing Shane last night at the front door before she left, so at least twenty percent of the backwash already in that water is bound to be his. I don’t tell her this, because if she doesn’t know what backwash is, I’ll have to go through the whole rigamarole of explaining it, and inevitably end up looking stupid, so I just shake my head.

“You’re running like mad out there,” she comments. “I don’t know how you’ve the strength in this weather.”

“You just endure it, I guess.”

“Hm, I couldn’t. I’m like a princess. I just really don’t like sweating and getting all out of breath. Evie is like you, though,” she adds.

I’m careful to arrange my features into a neutral expression. Claire has been hanging around with us every day for the last week, for reasons that nobody has explained to me, not that I have asked, but when I chat with her, I make sure that I never, ever bring up Evie. Teenage girls are detectives. They pick up on the tiniest facial expressions or shift in tone and use it against you.

I’ve been bamboozled before, and the last thing I need is for Claire to go home to Evie in the evenings and tell her, God forbid, that I asked a question about her. The multitudes of ways they could read into my body language makes me feel queasy.

“Right,” I say in a bored voice, and scratch my armpit.

“She’s always like, go go go! All the time, you know? Like playing tennis one minute, swimming the next, going on a mad run the next it’s like,” she rolls her eyes for emphasis, “take a break, girl, please, you know?”

“Mm.”

“I’ve been trying my best to convince her to come to that festival too, just to get away from the routine, but I can’t get her to give me any sort of answer about it.”

I frown. “Did you invite her to the festival?”

“Oh, was I not meant to? I kind of thought it’d be fun if she came, you know, so it’s not just me.”

“I didn’t know you were coming either.”

Her face drains. “Oh, well, Shane asked me, and I-”

“No, no, you can. Oh my God, obviously, I didn’t mean-”

“Right! Okay, of course, but like, I don’t want to impose on-”

“Just I didn’t know Evie might come, that’s all.”

“Well, yeah, I thought it’d be nice for me to have a close friend with me, but if you don’t want her to... like, she might not be able to anyway, so.”

“I don’t not want her to come.” God, why does this feel like a conversation two thirteen-year-olds would have? I swear I haven’t felt this juvenile in years, and I cringe, as though some other version of myself, the cooler Jude, is watching me engage in this conversation and groaning into his hands. Sometimes, these days, I feel like the cooler Jude is slipping through my fingers like handfuls of sand.

“She’s actually really nice,” Claire says with an edge of defensiveness. “I know she’s a bit quiet. I thought that when I met her first too, she was kind of known as the weird girl at school, but when you get to know her, she’s a really sweet person.”

“I know,” I say, my face burning. “I mean... she seems nice. I didn’t mean to imply that she isn’t. Please don’t tell her I think she’s quiet, or weird, or that I don’t want her at the festival or anything like that.”

“No, of course.”

“Because I do… like... think she’s nice, and it’d be okay if she came with us. I would even want her to, actually.” Shut up. God, please, shut the fuck up, you dickhead.

Claire smiles and nods.

“But don’t tell her I specifically want her to either, just… Don’t tell her anything.” Oh, line me up against a wall and shoot me, execution style.

“I won’t.”

I bet she will. And I bet she'll tell her about about the smell of desperation off me, too.

“Turner!” Shane bellows. “What are you at? Your team mates are flailing over here.”

“Right, bye,” I tell Claire, and turn around quickly, unable to bear the embarrassment for another second.

“Bye!”

As I walk back onto the pitch, I screw my eyes shut and thump my fist against my forehead.

I’m toast.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #in case you forgot he is a teenager lmao #gotta intersperse the serious with the fun

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steddietogo · 5 months ago

Text

I had so much fun writing this for the @steddiesummerexchange!! @steddieasxshegoes hope you like this!

Word count: 8.9k

Read on ao3

— — — Steve finally turns to glare at Robin when one of the sunflower seeds she’s been throwing at him comes dangerously close to taking an eye out.

“Stop staring, dingus,” Robin laughs at him.

“I’m not staring,” he protests. Steve was merely glancing at the hot metal head on a leather couch at the back of the bar, nursing his drink all alone. “If you stopped paying attention to me for a second you’d have noticed the blonde making eyes at you from the bar,”

“Where?” Robin asks, whipping around embarrassingly fast.

“Rob! You don’t just–”

“Oh my god, she’s hot,”

“You’re so obvious,” He hisses back. “Go talk to her,”

“What? No way,”

“Hey, maybe you have more game in Rome–” And the next sunflower seed bounces straight off his forehead but before he could retaliate, there’s movement at the corner of his eyes.

“Shit, she’s coming over,” he says and watches the absolute panic taking over Robin’s face. “I need another drink, good luck.” He narrowly misses the kick aimed to his shin, slipping away to give them some privacy because, dear god, Steve knows he would never hear the end of it if Robin doesn’t get laid at least once during their entire trip to Italy.

The bar is cozy, decorated to look like the inside of catacombs with picture frames lining the walls and chandeliers hanging low from the ceiling. It's much better than the ones Robin brings them to, back in LA, almost entirely lit by neon signs and plays music a little too loud for his taste these days.

But here in Italy, Steve is not confined to the rigid schedule he follows to keep himself rested and alert enough for emergency situations. Steve makes his way to the counter and orders himself another drink, settling back to people watch– definitely not just to discreetly ogle the lone metal head looking entirely too bored to be sitting in a nice bar in Rome.

— — — Eddie can feel the eyes of the fluffy haired man on him from across the bar. Nothing he isn’t used to though. He might even be flattered by the attention if he wasn’t too busy feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t plan on sitting in a bar all alone, on what was supposed to be his honeymoon vacation, sans a ring on his finger. But no amount of being desired by the masses on stage has made his love life any better. No amount of admiration saved him from his cheating ex. He’s not heartbroken, just tired; that relationship was long over before the cheating even started. Rick was only ever concerned about the fame and attention he’d get throwing Eddie’s name around.

He would just be rotting away at home if it wasn’t for Chrissy refusing to let him cancel the whole trip and basically dragging him to the airport by his ear. He suspects it’s also to keep him far away from the whole press circus his ex no doubt started to stir by now. He just hopes they’d leave the boys from the band alone. He’d hate to drag them down with him.

Since landing in Rome the day before, Eddie had slept, ate, slept again and landed in a bar for a drink or two, trying to feel some semblance of normal again. Maybe Chrissy thought the Italian sun would magically reset Eddie to the optimistic idiot he once used to be, but he owed it to her to try at least. From where he’s sitting, two weeks felt like it’s an eternity away.

Eddie watches as the man leaves his seat and walks over to the bar by himself. He likes the way his button up stretches over his shoulders. He’s conventionally attractive in the boy next door kinda way. Pretty, even. Eddie hasn’t slept with a stranger since the beginning of his career when he’d gotten caught by paps doing the walk of shame back to his place. Since then he’d been a lot more careful with everyone he’s been associating with.

This one is cute though and Eddie may be tempted to break a few of his own rules. There is something about being alone and depressed in Italy that makes him want to throw caution to the wind and just do something impulsive. He’s feeling a little too restless and itching for some human connection. Very tempted to buy the cute guy a drink and see if he would follow him back to his stupid big honeymoon suite.

Besides, wasn’t that what Chrissy wanted for him? To forget Rick and to enjoy himself? She’d also say that it's not healthy to throw himself at the first pretty thing so soon after a breakup, but whatever, she’s not here with him.

Eddie feels, more than sees, as the stranger’s gaze lands on him one more time. The blonde that he came in with looks cozy sharing a couch with another woman, so no harm no foul, Eddie decides. He sweeps up his jacket and makes his way to the bar.

“Hi,” Eddie says. The cute guy startles at his sudden appearance by his side but his grin is nearly blinding. “I’m Eddie,”

“Hey,” he replies. “Steve,”

Steve, he learns, is on vacation with his best friend. After speaking to him for a bit, Eddie is about 70 percent sure Steve has no idea who he is. Just the way he prefers. He buys Steve a drink and they flirt a bit. Eddie likes the way Steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and how he constantly runs his fingers through his hair like Eddie makes him nervous. Unfortunately, before he can make a move, their little party is crashed by Steve’s companion. Eddie can’t help but feel a tiny bit annoyed.

“Oh my god, I need a drink,” The woman comes barreling between them.

“You okay there buddy?” Steve asks her and she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes.

“Oh shit, sorry, did I interrupt?” She asks, finally noticing his presence, funnily enough.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves her off.

“I’m Robin,” She stuck her hand out.

“Hi Robin, you have lipstick on your face,” Her eyes widen and she scrambles to fix herself using the reflection in the mirror behind the bar, frowning when she finds nothing on her face.

“No I don’t,”

“Made you look,” Eddie grins.

She narrows her eyes at him. “You’re good,”

— — —

They get another round of drinks, Steve buys this time, and they move to a bigger table. Robin sticks to them like a cock blocking barnacle but after a while later, Eddie doesn’t mind anymore. She’s weird and funny in a refreshing way he doesn’t get to see everyday. Plus, Steve looks more at ease when she is by his side.

“So, Eddie,” Says Robin, “What brings you to Rome?”

“Well, you can’t call it a honeymoon if you don’t marry your cheating fiance, so,” Eddie shrugs, watching the slight alarm on both of their faces. “Guess its a solo trip now,”

“That sucks, man,” says Steve.

“It's whatever,” he shrugs.

“You know what? Fuck that motherfucker,” Robin says, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “You’re gonna have the best solo honeymoon ever and he’s gonna be soooo jealous of you!” Robin is kind of a light weight, but it's nice to see someone else enraged on his behalf.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Fuck him,” And then he buys a round of shots. This isn’t the way he saw his evening going when he approached Steve, but Eddie isn’t complaining.

“This is so stupid, we’re gonna regret this in the morning,” Steve giggles, slumped so far down his seat only his face is visible above the table.

“Shit! I forgot!” Robin exclaims.

Eddie frowns. “What’s happening in the morning?”

“We’re going to Tuscany!” Steve says and Robin gasps suddenly, repeatedly slapping Steve on the arm, her eyes wide as dinner plates as she looks at Eddie.

“You should come with us!” She exclaims. “There’s enough room in the air bnb i'm sure, you can bunk with Steve,”

“Come with you to Tuscany?” Eddie asks, puzzled.

“Or Steve can just take the couch,”

“Hey!” Steve protests. “But yeah, it’ll be fun,” he says, turning his big hazel eyes back to Eddie looking so hopeful and expectant; and maybe a little too gone on the alcohol too.

So, really, you can’t blame Eddie for saying yes to a half baked plan that probably wasn’t even going to happen. He’s drunk and a pretty boy is asking him to follow him across Italy. Most likely, the two are going to wake up the next morning with no recollection of the night, or they're probably not even going to make it to their train anyways.

So Eddie says, “Fuck it. Let's do this!”

— — —

Turns out, a drunk Robin is no less a planner than a sober one. Eddie is woken up with his phone incessantly ringing at 10 am on the dot, his presence being demanded at breakfast. At least he feels a little bit better after seeing the other two looking as bad as he feels. Robin is wearing two sunglasses stacked on top of one another.

Packing is no hassle, thankfully, as Eddie never bothered to unpack in the first place. Being hungover for more than an hour on a train isn’t really fun. He eyes Steve and Robin happily curled up and dosing away at their seats as he spends the better half of the train ride to Florence trying not to yak up the cup of coffee and pastry he had choked down at breakfast. Wanye would have laughed and told him he has been spoiled by all the soft mattresses in his fancy hotel rooms. And he wouldn’t be wrong.

They spend twenty minutes ambling around the city, looking for a specific hole in the wall Steve was determined to visit, then fall face first into plates of pasta in ravenous hunger. It's chaotic, better than being holed up in his room with nothing to do. Eddie might even admit it was fun if you ask him tomorrow.

Once their plates are just short of licked clean, robin rummages through her cross body bag and pulls out a paper map, unfolding it into a cartoonishly large piece of paper. “Do you not have GPS in your phone?” Eddie asks, eyeing the map.

“You’re in a foreign country, Eddie, what if you lost your network? Do you want to die?” Steve says in a scarily accurate impression of Robin, then gets a bony elbow to the ribs.

Robin clears her throat dramatically, points at a part of the map and says, “We’re here right now,” Here, Eddie assumes, is Florence in the map since the lettering was so small and crowded together it was almost impossible to read. “And we’ll be taking a cab to an airbnb here, about thirty minutes away. It's like a big ass villa we’ll be sharing with a few other people and there’s like a big ass pool there too, so we can chill out over there. Then at seven, we have a wine tasting-slash-dinner at a vineyard.”

“Oooh we’re getting drunk again?” Eddie asks.

Robin enthusiastically replies, “Yup! We’re on vacation, baby!”

— — —

The villa is gorgeous. It’s up on a hill overlooking rows and rows of vineyards and trees and has a huge breakfast nook, living room and outdoor dining place and his first thought after stepping into the place was damn, Chrissy is going to be so jealous. The host is a friendly middle aged man with an accent so strong only Robin could mostly understand what he was saying.

The pool is a nice idea too. After their initial tour of the property, they change into pool-side appropriate wear and make their way downstairs. Eddie tosses his hair up and sinks into the water, letting his fingers prune in one corner with his shades on, watching Steve and Robin splashing about like a couple of toddlers. He doesn’t understand where those two get their unchecked energy reserve from, Eddie is so close to dozing away.

He turns to the woman a couple feet away trying and failing to read her book in the ruckus the two are making. “I don’t know them,” he says, though she probably saw them arrive at the pool together. She gives him a polite smile and goes back to trying to read.

The vineyard they go to for dinner is a walkable distance away, or so Steve says, and then it takes them half an hour to walk there. Which both him and Robin complain about, a lot. There’s a small group taking a short tour with them walking around in the vineyard, taking a few pictures. He sends some to Wayne and gets a thumbs up emoji back, which was the equivalent of a heartfelt hug from him in text.

Dinner is good, the food and the company. They are given tiny wine glasses and get refills as often as they want. Everyone takes full advantage of it. He even makes polite conversation with a few of the others in the groups. Steve looks especially pretty in the firelight with a rosy tint to his cheeks.

Eddie feels relaxed and so much lighter than he had in months when they stumble back to the villa, swaying and leaning against each other, giggling about stupid things. “I’ll see y'all bitches in the morning,” Robin bids them goodnight and Eddie and Steve crash into a pile on top of the two seater couch in their room.

“Hey,” Steve whispers. “I really don’t mind taking the couch you know,”

“What? No way, Steve. I don’t mind sharing, I can keep my hands to myself, you know,”

Steve snorts, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘if only’.

“What was that,” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, nothing,”

Eddie absentmindedly draws patterns over a knee thrown over his lap, the heat of his skin like a furnace under his palm. He can’t look away from wine stained lips and flushed cheeks as Steve smiles softly at him, inviting. His hazel eyes drop to his lips then back up again.

Eddie didn’t realize how close they are, their noses nearly brushing– Steve almost fully on top of his lap– it would be so easy to kiss him. He just has to tip his head up to press their lips together, so he does it.

Steve’s mouth feels as warm and inviting as it looks. Eddie lets him press his tongue between his lips, big hands cupping the back of his head keeping him there. Eddie takes it as permission to get a little more handsy, slipping his hands under Steve’s shirt.

Eddie feels himself melting into the cushions as Steve tilts his head into the kiss. He pulls back and Eddie has to stop himself before he does something pathetic like whine, or maybe chase after his mouth. “You wanna move this to the bed,” Steve asks, sounding as breathless as Eddie felt.

“Yeah, sweetheart,”

— — —

Eddie wakes up fully nude under the covers feeling warm and satiated. He listens to the birds chirping outside the window and the soft snores from the man stretched out beside him. He flips to his side, watching Steve sleeping on his stomach, his ribs expand and contract with each breath he takes. His back is littered with moles and freckles and Eddie with his sleepy brain wonders how long it would take to trace every one of them. Some of them disappear under the scar tissue twisting over the side of his torso, starting at his hip and spreading almost all the way to just under his rib cage. He leans in, lightly brushing his fingers just over the shiny, raised skin.

"It’s from a fire a few years ago," Steve says, slowly blinking sleep out of his eyes. And at Eddie's raised eyebrows, he elaborates, "I'm a firefighter. Robin too.”

“Shit,” Eddie replies, suddenly feeling more awake. “You just got like ten times hotter,” Steve snorts. “You have to wear a uniform right? Do you have any pictures?”

“What am I? Just a piece of ass to you?”

“A very hot piece of ass,” Eddie says, pulling himself up on top of Steve. “Don’t sell yourself short, Stevie” And he leans down to kiss him, morning breath and all. They get distracted for long enough that Robin comes thumping on their door to get them out of bed.

— — —

Breakfast is once again a steaming cup of coffee, fruits, and a fresh croissant. Eddie has had more fresh fruits in the past two days than the entire year combined. He was also having a very nice time happily appearing in public without fear of camera flashes or crazed fans. Feeling the sun on his skin, living his best life, as the kids would say. Eddie was wearing one of Steve’s shirts open over a band tee and canvas shorts. His usual wardrobe, consisting mostly of ripped jeans and leather jackets, wasn't the most comfortable in the sun.

There are only two other couples in the outdoor dining area of the airbnb. A pair of retirees and the other two possibly honeymooners by the way they were all over each other. Eddie briefly considers how if he hadn’t been with them, Steve and Robin would’ve also looked like a heterosexual couple, not codependent platonic soulmates having a vacation together. The thought makes him huff a laugh into his coffee. Steve raises his eyebrows at him in question from his seat beside him, and he just shakes his head.

Robin drops the folded paper map on the table once she’s done studying, steals a sip from Steve cup, then winces. “That's the one toxic dude bro trait you have,” she says, glaring at the offending cup of black coffee with no cream or sweetener in it. Eddie has to nod his head in agreement. Even Eddie doesn’t drink his coffee black.

“What? It's not that bad,” Steve tries to reason.

“It’s actually really horrible, you just don’t have taste buds anymore because you burnt them off, apparently.” Eddie chimes in.

“Nuh-uh, you aren’t allowed to team up like that, no way,” Steve protests. Robin sneaks a sip from Eddie’s cup.

“Holy shit, there is no coffee in this, it's just milk and sugar!”

“No, its not,”

“Yes, it is!”

“Okay, calm down, children. Robin, weren’t you just gonna tell us the plan for today?” Steve interrupts.

“Fine,” Robin huffs. “First we make a ten minute walk from here to the rental place for the Vespas, then were going to go to Pisa, then Siena, then San Gimignano if we have the time,”

“We’re renting Vespas? That’s the most touristy shit I’ve ever heard,” Eddie says.

“Eddie, we are tourists,”

“But like, couldn’t we just rent a cab or something?”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

“I don’t have a motorcycle license,”

“That’s fine, you don’t need it,” Steve chimes in, “It's just like riding a bike,”

Eddie grumbles under his breath, stuffing another piece of bread in his mouth. Steve exchanges a look with Robin.

“Eddie,”

“Hmrph?”

“You know how to ride a bicycle, right?”

“I- I just never learned to, okay?” Robin snorts.

“That's okay, you can ride with me,” Steve smiles, nudging him.

Later on Eddie sends a video to Chrissy of the sprawling vineyards and him on the back of a ridiculous red Vespa and matching helmet, clinging tight to Steve as they sped down a cobblestone road.

— — —

Pisa is nice. There is a lot more climbing involved than Eddie had expected, and is grossly underprepared for it. The view from the top of the leaning tower is cool. Cool enough to climb up and down multiple narrow stairs? Eddie isn’t sure. Steve and Robin barely break a sweat beside Eddie who is fighting for his life– maybe he should listen to Chrissy and cut down on the cigarettes– the damn firefighter stamina.

They take many dorky touristy pictures of them trying to hold up the leaning tower which he knows would make Chrissy laugh. Eddie does his best to occasionally answer the barrage of questions thrown his way after Chrissy sees his messages. She’s mostly just happy that Eddie’s having fun and isn’t alone. She also has a few questions about the sandy blonde hair woman in the pictures with him.

Before they set off to Siena, Steve pulls out a bottle of sunscreen and insists everyone reapply– then acts all affronted when Eddie says he wasn’t wearing any to begin with. His ass feels just about flattened after the almost two hour ride to Siena. They have lunch at another nice spot, walk around taking a million pictures of the Duomo, and climb more stairs to Eddie’s dismay, which Robin finds hilarious.

— — —

“So,” Robin says, “Eddie.” Steve groans. “That bad huh?”

Robin and Steve are sitting in the shade of a nice big tree in a park, Eddie having gone to hunt down food and water for them. His spirits are still high for someone who looked so close to passing out at the top of the leaning tower.

“He’s only the hottest, funniest dude I’ve met in like years probably, no big deal,” Steve throws an arm over his eyes. “Face it, Robs, I’m just cursed to never find love.” Robin rolls her eyes at his dramatics.

“Just ask for his number, dingus,” She says, like it's obvious.

Steve sits up. “I can’t, it’s probably like, just a fun vacation fling for him. And–” He continues before Robin can interrupt. “He just got out of a serious relationship, I can’t ask now, it's too soon,”

“It does even have to be like, ‘I wanna date you please give me your number’, It can be like, ‘we should keep in touch, let's exchange numbers’,” Steve makes a face in response.

Thankfully before Robin can attempt to change his mind further, Eddie comes trudging across the park towards them. “M’lady, M’lord,” he offers the paper bag of pastries to them, on one knee.

“M’dork,” Robin replies and Eddie throws himself backwards on the ground, pretending to get shot.

“Why do you wound me so, fair maiden,” He wails rolling around in the grass, making her snort and Steve complains about getting grass stains on his shirt.

— — —

Eddie almost falls to his knees and begs for mercy when he’s rudely awaken at 5 fucking am and Robin tells him that they will be spending yet another four hours on a train to Rapallo to yet another airbnb. He tells her that she and Steve are single handedly funding the entire organization. Robin tells him to shut up and drink his milk.

“There isn’t much walking,” Steve promises him as he coaxes Eddie from bed. “We’ll just swim in the ocean, drink and relax.” After breakfast they make their way to the train station. Thankfully, this time Eddie manages to pass out for a good amount of time during the train ride only waking to blearily change trains.

He’s well rested by the time they make it to their airbnb. They get ready for a beach day, then it's Vespa 2 electric boogaloo as they rent a couple for the day to get to the beach and back. Eddie shouts “Liar!” from the back seat when Steve tells him the beach is twenty minutes away. Steve argues, technically he wasn’t lying since they aren’t walking.

The beach, unfortunately for Eddie, is a lot more packed than he had expected. It puts him on edge, makes him feel like he might get recognised. He hadn’t realized how Steve’s shirt felt like armor the day before. No one was expecting Eddie Munson to be wearing a striped button up and canvas shorts. But having his tattoos out in the open feels like he was asking to be caught. So he swipes Robin’s orange cover up with little pom poms on the hem the second she discards it and tucks his hair under a sunhat.

The wonder twins are busy in the middle of a sandcastle building competition– which they asked Eddie to be the judge of– like little kids. He sits back and watches people with their friends and family, the two dorks in front of him fighting for sand at the same place like there isn’t sand anywhere else on the beach. He spots boats docked on the other side of the beach and gets an idea.

“Hey guys, I’ll be right back,”

— — —

Steve lays on his beach towel, eyes closed and listening to music on his headphones. Robin was off fucking around in the water with another cute woman she struck up a conversation with.

Eddie rushed off saying he was going to get them something to drink but Steve gets the impression that it's just because he wasn’t one for crowded places, though he didn’t seem too uncomfortable yesterday when they were going around Tuscany. He seemed to shrink into himself when they reached the beach, looking vaguely nauseous when he was sitting under the umbrella all covered up.

He wonders if he should go look for him and make sure he is doing okay, he’s taking a little too long for Steve’s comfort. Or maybe the queue is just really that long since the beach is crowded and Steve is being an overbearing mother hen like Robin sometimes reminds him that he has a tendency for.

Steve starts to slowly doze listening to the chattering all around him and the sound of the waves in the background of his playlist when he feels a shadow descend over him. He opens his eyes to find Eddie standing over him, still in Robin cover up– sans drinks– looking a little too pleased with himself. “Pack your bags,” he tells Steve. “And get Robin,”

Steve scrunches up his face in confusion. “Pack up? We just got here,” Steve yanks on Eddie’s hand and catches him on his lap when he goes down yelping, the sun hat knocked off his head.

“We have much better places to be Stevie, believe me,” he says cryptically, throwing his arms around him.

“You’re not making any sense, dude,”

“I rented us a boat,” Eddie says, grinning.

“A what?”

“A boat. You know? Those things floating over there in the ocean?” he points like he’s explaining to a child seeing a boat for the first time. Dick, Steve thinks fondly.

“When did you do that?”

“Like five minutes ago,” Steve wants to wipe the stupid grin off his stupid face so he leans in and kisses him. It doesn’t really work, Eddie’s still high on his new boat procurement adventure. He tugs in Steve’s hair, pulling him back.

“Come on, we’re losing daylight,” he insists.

“It's not even noon yet,”

— — —

Robin seems very excited by this new development, basically bouncing all the way to where Eddie leads them to a big boat. She brings along her new friend from the beach with them, a curly haired Spanish brunette– Go Robin, Steve thinks– though the boat Eddie had picked had a capacity for more than just four people.

The captain is a funny middle aged guy who’s happy to let them play music as loud as they want. He shows them around the coast and then stops further into the ocean where there are other boats and yachts some distance from them. Steve, Robin and her new companion waste no time jumping into the ocean and Eddie finally looks relaxed.

A little while later, Steve clambers back into the boat in his swimming trunks, sea water dripping from his hair. His shoulders are already turning a deeper shade of tan. He joins Eddie lounging under the sun, laying his dripping head on his shoulder. Eddie traces a finger through the droplets doting his arm.

"Enjoying yourself?" Eddie asks and Steve hums happily.

"Kinda feel like I'm seventeen again," He says.

"Oh? You were galavanting around Italy in high school, Stevie?” Eddie grins at him, teasing.

"Mhm. Summer after junior year, I got brutally dumped,” He explains. “Kinda deserved it though, I was a little bitch in high school," Then there’s a glint in Eddie's eyes like he’s imagining Steve in a preppy outfit and the ridiculous way he used to style his hair.

"My parents brought me along for their trip and their friends has a gay son, though I don’t think they knew he was gay or they wouldn’t have let me hang out with him otherwise," Steve thinks of Andrew sometimes and all the awkward fumbling they had done when they would sneak into each other’s rooms at night– something Robin calls his ‘Bi-awakening’. “So yeah, I left for the vacation straight and came back bi,”

"That is so trust fund baby core, holy shit," Eddie says, and Steve snorts.

"Was a trust fund baby. Past tense," He clarifies.

"Hm, what happened then?"

"I mean, I already knew my parents were homophobes but hey, at least they waited till I finished high school to kick me out,” He shrugs, feeling embarrassed the second he finishes spewing his whole story.

“I’m sorry your parents suck,” Eddie throws his arms around Steve and squeezes him until he laughs. Steve has always been an oversharer, a trait that had put off a lot of his past partners, unfortunately. Eddie is a good listener. He doesn’t seem too bummed out by his little trip down memory lane. But then, when did Steve start thinking of Eddie along the same line as the people from his past relationships?

“Whatever. They were really just cramping my style,”

“Yeah, I bet you looked real bad in those starched shirts and designer suits,” Eddie says, sounding like he really doesn’t mean it.

"Come get in the water with me," Steve says and Eddie whines in protest. "What? You don't know how to swim too?"

"I know how to swim!" He exclaims a bit too defensively. "I just don't want to get my hair wet," he pouts.

"You don't have to get your hair wet," He pulls Eddie up, "I’ll protect your hair, come on,"

Steve dives in first, watching Eddie carefully lower himself into the water just enough to keep his head above. "See? All good,"

He wraps his arms around Steve's shoulders, pulling him in for a salty kiss.

"CANNONBALL!"

"Rob, wait!" It was too late. Robin crashed into the water, way too close to them, sending a huge splash into the two, drenching them to the tip of their heads.

"Noooo," Eddie moans, looking like a drowned rat with his bangs plastered to his forehead. Robin's maniacal cackling reaches them as she surfaces. "She's so mean to me," he whines, hiding his face in Steve's neck.

"Aww poor baby," Steve coos, trying to hold back his laughter. "I'll help you wash your hair later, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Promise,"

— — —

Steve does help wash Eddie’s hair, though showering together ends up wasting more water than they were supposed to be saving on accounts of wandering hands. When they step out of the bathroom clean and loose limbed, Robin is on the couch with the TV on full volume, takes one look at their faces and says “Yuck,”

Eddie points at her and says, “Homophobe,”

They decide to order in for the night. Robin hooks up her (Steve’s actually) Netflix account to the TV and they argue on which movie to watch until their dinner arrives, then pass out in a puppy pile twenty minutes into the movie.

— — —

Thankfully, their train to Milan the next day is at a much more reasonable timing. Eddie still whines about having to move again. They make it by mid day and explore the city some more until it's time for dinner.

Eddie feels a pang when he thinks that he’d be saying goodbye to the two in less than a day. Which is dramatic, even for him. He’d barely known them for a week, yet he feels himself clinging to Steve harder and starting arguments just to annoy Robin more often.

When they go to bed, he falls asleep with Steve curled over his back and their fingers intertwined.

— — —

In the morning, Steve joins him on the couch in the balcony where Eddie is people watching through the railing with a cup of coffee. Steve and Robin are leaving soon to catch their flight back home and Eddie’s all packed up to get back to his luxury honeymoon suite in Rome, all alone. The prospect of another week alone in a foreign country feels more daunting than it had been in the beginning of his trip.

Eddie feels like the end of the week snuck up on him. He didn’t expect to like being in Italy so much, though he suspects that has more to do with the company than the country itself. Steve sits so close to him that he’s almost fully leaning on Eddie's shoulder, he’s going to miss his weight and his warmth, the easy way he holds himself near other people like he belongs in everyone’s space.

“So,” Steve says, their position reminds Eddie of the first night he kissed Steve, tipsy on wine, heart fluttering in his chest like butterfly wings. He wants to pull him in and kiss him again.

“So,” Eddie parrots.

“I guess this is it, huh?” Eddie hopes he isn’t imagining the hint of melancholy gleaming in his hazel eyes, he wants selfishly for Steve to miss him too.

“I had fun,” Eddie smiles. It takes effort.

“I’m glad,” Steve says, sounding so sincere. He tucks a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear, leans in to slot their lips together one last time. Eddie takes it eagerly, opening his mouth to him and happily goes along when Steve pulls him into his lap.

They say their goodbyes after breakfast and Eddie watches them get in a cab and drive away from him forever.

— — —

Steve stows their luggage away in the overhead compartment and plops down onto his seat, Robin engrossed in looking through the inflight movie list beside him. He drops his forehead on Robin's shoulder. “You doing okay over there?”

“Mhm,”

“It's okay to not be okay, you know,”

He lets out a watery laugh, feeling pathetic. “Its so stupid,”

“No it's not,” She pokes his forehead. “Don’t be mean to my best friend,”

“I think maybe I should’ve just sucked it up asked for his number,”

Robin huffs, “See, I can’t even say ‘I told you so’ when you look so sad,”

“Yeah, whatever, it's too late now. He didn’t ask either,” Steve reasons with himself.

“Hey, maybe you’ll run into him one day and he’d be like, your next door neighbor or something,”

“This isn’t a movie, Robs,” He sighs. “And I know all my neighbors already,”

“There, there,” She says, patting his head.

— — —

Eddie naps for a few hours, then gets a cab to take him to the train station. Time moves at a glacial pace. Eddie slumps on a bench and scrolls through instagram to pass time. Somehow his feed is full of cats running around causing chaos, cats in silly outfits, funny cat meme edits. And he thinks maybe he should get a cat. A black one, and he can name it Ozzy. Or Aragon. Maybe a cat would make him feel less lonely.

Eddie is about to close the app and go get something to eat when he sees it. It's a blurry picture of two men kissing on a balcony. The angle looks like it was taken from street level, but the tattoos and long hair is unmistakable. Fuck.

The picture already has more than half a million likes. He loathes to think how many other pages it has graced. And the comments were worse.

g3rry_ Hasn’t even been two weeks since the breakup news came out and he’s already with a new guy…

parkouch_ Smells like infidelity hmmm

gin_titanic Poor Rick :(

Corrodedjeff He should just leave the band at this point smh

RickWorld00 Anyone know who the other guy is?

Dusty_Hen05 What the fuck what the FUCK

— — —

He calls Chrissy in a panic.

“Did you see it?” is the first thing she asks him. He doesn’t answer as much as he lets out a high pitched noise like a kettle.

“Chrissy, what the fuck?”

“I know, I know,” She whines. “I’m trying to do damage control here, but Rick fucking posted a tweet saying he’s ‘taking time off from the public eye’ during this ‘trying time’ and now everyone is siding with him,”

“That bitch,”

“How’s Steve taking it?” Chrissy asks.

“I wouldn’t know, Chrissy, he’s on a plane right now on the way back to his real life,” He huffs. “Shit, he’s going to be so blindsided by this, I don’t think he even knew who I am,”

“You didn’t tell him?” she asks. “Shit, Eddie,”

“Book me flight babe, I wanna come back as soon as I can,” It takes some arguing and pleading to make Chrissy book a different flight straight from Milan. But she does it in the end and Eddie hopes he hasn’t screwed things up forever.

— — —

Eddie goes straight to Chrissy’s place from the airport. He has a hell of a time dodging camera flashes and finally makes it to the car she sent in one piece. He falls into her embrace as soon as she opens her door.

“Aww, Eddie, you okay?”

“Ahuh, never better,”

His eyes feel dry and sand from the lack of sleep. Chrissy shoves him into bed and threatens him to get some rest before they can have a serious conversation about everything. Eddie sleeps fitfully, but it's better than nothing. The sun is setting when he shuffles back into the living room. Chrissy hears his stomach grumbling from all the way across the room and they order take out.

“So, Steve,”

Eddie sighs heavily. “I fucked up Chris,” he says, stuffing a springroll in his mouth.

“Someone took a picture of you through your balcony, I hardly think that's your fault, babe,”

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t even know who I was, Chris. Like, how jarring is it going to be for him to just wake up one day and find out some people out there are accusing him of being a home wrecker just for kissing a random dude on a vacation?”

“It is a fucked up situation, I’m not going to lie, and Rick’s really been enjoying playing the victim,” she grumbles. “You know, it really would’ve helped if you had gotten the guy's contact details.” She didn’t need to tell him that twice. “We need to release a statement as soon as possible but we really just need to wait it out. There isn’t much we can realistically do,”

“I feel horrible,” he groans.

“Again. Not your fault Eddie,”

“I think I’ll lose my mind if I don’t find him somehow,” Chrissy snorts.

“Dick that good, huh?” She snickers.

“Gotta admit, Chrissy, it was a pretty exceptional dick.” Eddie sighs wistfully and Chrissy giggles.

“How are you gonna find him?”

“Maybe a PI? Is that too creepy? How many Steves are there in the US do you reckon?” He’s only half joking. Chrissy rolls her eyes and kicks him out of her house so he can go get some proper sleep.

— — —

Eddie takes a hot shower once he gets home, then is immediately reminded of Steve in the shower with him and his big hands holding him against the cold tiles. Then the quick shower turns into a much longer one.

Once he’s changed into his pjs, he pads down to the kitchen to make himself a hot cup of tea then settles in bed with his phone. He isn’t tired enough to go to sleep yet so he switches to a random channel on his TV and scrolls through the pictures they had taken in Italy, zooming in on Steve’s face more times he can count like a love sick– love? Really? –dumbass.

It's 2 am when he hears the sound of his front door opening and shutting that puts him on alert. With shaking hands he grabs his baseball bat from the closet (which Wayne left behind, Eddie wasn’t a sports kinda guy) making his way to the staircase, hoping and praying he’d imagined the whole thing and he’s not actually getting robbed. Or worse– someone has leaked his address online and someone broke in to see him.

It's too dark to see properly, but a figure is climbing up the stairs towards him, a little too fast for his comfort. Eddie swings, his bat connects with the stranger’s face with a crunch and he goes tumbling down the stairs with a pained shout. Eddie rushes to get the light switch and–

“EDDIE!” Rick was on the floor, clutching his bleeding nose. “Shit, I think I broke something,”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rick?” Eddie screeches. “How did you get in?”

"What are you doing here, aren’t supposed to be in Italy, enjoying our honeymoon,” He spits back. The fucking audacity of this dude.

“Have you been breaking into my house all week?” Rick stays quiet and that's enough of an answer for Eddie. “I’m calling an ambulance,” The 911 operator tells him not to move him, not that Eddie would touch him with a ten foot pole.

“Who was that guy you were with?” Rick asks from the floor, still clutching onto his knee.

“I’m sorry, how is that any of your business?” Eddie snaps back, full of ire.

“Because,” Rick says, his expression pleading in the way Eddie just realizes he always looks like when he’s about to tell him how sorry he was and how nothing was his fault, actually. “I still love you, Eddie,”

Eddie laughs in his face, getting a tiny bit of satisfaction from the way Rick’s face falls. “Seriously? You broke up with me because I was too clingy to open our relationship and you see me with another dude one time and you can’t take it, huh?”

“I made a mistake–”

“Yes you fucking did, now deal with the consequences. You’re not my problem anymore,” The doorbell saves Eddie from the crocodile tears welling up in Rick’s eyes. How did he even put up with this for two years?

However, Eddie isn’t done with surprises for the day, it would seem. The door swings open, and there stands Steve– who looks just as shocked to see him standing at the doorstep– with Robin and another older dude he doesn’t recognise.

“Hey!” the older dude exclaims, pointing at Eddie. “It’s the guy!”

— — —

Steve has had a hell of a time since he and Robin had touched down. The second he had switched his airplane mode off he was bombarded with hundreds, possibly thousands of notifications. 72 missed calls from just Dustin and more cryptic messages from the party group chat– something about coffins? Did someone die? Steve didn’t understand.

Dustin hadn’t been much help when he called him back, babbling something about a front man of a rock band for some reason, but that was only until Robin pulled up a picture of him and Eddie kissing. Except, it was posted on some random instagram page he had never heard of instead of her camera roll, with the caption ‘Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson spotted in Milan, Italy with his new beau’. And then it clicked.

His notifications continued to flood for the rest of the day, friends and coworkers were asking him about it. His high school acquaintances suddenly wanted to know how he was doing and wanted to catch up for ‘old time sake’. Yeah right, Tommy. The worst part was probably the comments nitpicking everything about his appearance and the random threatening DMs he’d receive occasionally.

Robin was quite most of the ride back home, but that was only because she was doing a deep dive into Eddie Munson and his band’s history. The only thing she said to him was, “I know many of their songs, Steve, and Dustin and Mike literally have a poster up like every wall in their house. How did we not know this?”

He slept fitfully, the adrenaline and confusion seemingly overriding the jet lag. The last straw was when his mom tried to contact him the next morning after eight whole years, just to berate him about their family name. “In public Steven? Really?” Steve didn’t have the energy to argue that a balcony is not a public space. There was little satisfaction in hanging up on her mid sentence.

He called up Argyle and begged to swap with his night shift so he'd at least have Robin by his side when dealing with all of it. Not that he thought any of their co-workers would be mean about it, he and Robin aren’t even the only queer people in the station. Besides, Captain Hopper wouldn’t let homophobic behavior slide given that he has a gay step son of his own that he loves very much.

Steve had tried and moderately succeeded in getting some sleep before his shift. Night shifts were moderately less hectic than morning ones– though sometimes it just depends on the night itself– so it opens up more time for ribbing from his colleagues

He had even walked in on the rookie Chance showing Dmitri, the Russian dude Hopper had history with (what kind? Nobody knows), videos of Corroded Coffin singles and performances, and Steve had turned on his heels and walked away.

The call had been a welcome distraction as he buckled himself in the back of the ambulance that Dmitri drove, with Robin. “I like your new boyfriend, he’s loud,” Dmitri had called back at him.

“He’s not my boyfriend, man,” Steve had sighed.

“But he does wish he was,” Robin the traitor had chimed in and then sat unperturbed by his glaring. That was merely minutes before he had rung the bell to the house he’s currently standing before, Eddie on the other side of the threshold.

“W-we got a call about someone getting hurt?” He stutters out, remembering his training and Eddie quietly steps aside to let them in.

— — —

Eddie barely processes shit. His monkey brain is just going Steve! Steve is here! In his sexy firefighter uniform! Stevie! Until Rick spots him and loudly goes, “Man, really?” Which clearly confuses Steve as his face does the whole, brows jumping up and eyes widening look that conveyed the message ‘What?’ without him having to say a word.

“Rick, shut up,” Eddie snaps. If Steve recognises that name, he doesn't show it.

Robin checks him out and splints his ankle, ruling out any serious injury in his hips or spine, except for maybe a nasty bruise from rolling down a flight of stairs. They load him on the gurney, then the back of the ambulance, working quietly as Eddie stood around fidgeting. He really just wants to talk to Steve about the whole thing, apologize for the whole mess.

“H-hey, Steve?” Eddie says and then almost falters when Steve’s attention is on him. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing man, you don’t deserve all that,”

“No, you don’t have to, it's not your fault,” Steve chuckles humorlessly. “Honestly, I just feel kind of stupid about it now that I think about it–” The older dude claps a hand over his shoulder, interrupting him.

“We gotta go buddy,” He says in a heavy Russian accent.

“Do you want a ride to the hospital?” Steve asks.

Eddie notices Rick looking at him expectantly from inside the ambulance. Ew. But he could bear it for Steve. He just needs to talk to Steve and Eddie’s scared that if he lets him go right now he might never see him again. So he gets in.

— — —

Steve wishes he would stop apologizing. Eddie would say ‘sorry’ and his brain would automatically translate it to ‘sorry people think we’re dating’.

“It's okay Eddie, I get it,” Steve sighs. “It's not even like we’re together, is it? I’m sure everyone would just forget about it in a while and you can move on–”

"I don’t want to forget about you," Eddie’s face is all scrunched up, “Shit, Steve I thought I was protecting you from the shitstorm that’s my life, since everything I touch turns to dust anyways, I thought maybe I could spare you if I left you alone,” He sighs, “But I failed in that regard too, I guess.”

"But–" Steve's jaw feels like it's on the floor, "Eddie, you don’t need to protect me, okay? I can take care of myself,” Eddie looks like a kicked puppy, all sad and hurt. Steve just wants him to smile again. “I mean, the amount of times we actually kissed in public, I’m just really surprised that was the picture that ended up online,” Eddie barks out a laugh.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you, Steve.” He says, his gaze intense and pleading. Steve is rendered speechless. “I grew up in a trailer park with my uncle. I sold weed in high school and played dnd. It took me three tries to even graduate highschool. I'm not a good person, i'm nothing special, I don't run into burning buildings and rescue kittens from trees or whatever, and I know I kind of ruined everything before it even started but please, please just give me one chance, Stevie–"

“Are you seriously doing this right now? In front of me?” Rick interrupts, and Steve is not a bad dude who’d hurt people who can’t defend themselves but he really wants to smack the disgusted look on his stupid face. Robin flaps a hand shushing him, watching him and Eddie like they’re on her TV screen instead. Even Dmitri is quiet, no doubt listening in.

“Would you like to go on an actual date with me? Please?” Eddie finishes.

Steve is stunned to say the least. He had been distracted for most of the ride, he didn't even realize that they had stopped until the door of the ambulance swung open, startling Robin too. Then he’s being pulled away to do his job, leaving a distraught looking Eddie behind.

— — —

Eddie paces hidden behind the ambulance bay, burning through his third cigarette of the hour– which once upon a time wouldn't even be worth noting, but he's trying to do better here, goddamnit— thinking of what an idiot he'd acted like.

What was he thinking? Asking Steve, a good guy with a normal life, without paps shoving cameras in his face, to be with him. Eddie Munson, the wildcard, the drama.

Eddie can’t go anywhere without someone criticizing everything he does. Ironically enough, that was one of the main reasons he was so anxious to leave his small town home behind. So much for anonymity. The constant judgment is the one thing he hated so much about constantly being in the public eye. He’d love to say that he doesn’t care and that it never bothers him, but the truth is that it gets fucking exhausting how people already have preconceived notions about him everywhere he goes. He doesn’t want that for Steve.

He's never known peace a day in his life. Why would Steve willingly through his life to the wolves just to be with him? It was selfish of Eddie to even ask that of him. He’s put him through enough shit as it is with the picture and all the harassment from his so-called fans. He hates it. This was nothing like how he dreamed his life would be at just twenty eight when he was in high school.

Eddie knows he’s spiraling. He’s being over dramatic and catastrophizing, as Chrissy would say. God, he wishes she were to talk some sense into him. Yet he can't seem to move away from that spot, waiting for Steve to come out through the doors, he can't leave without seeing this through. If he gets brutally rejected, so be it. But on the off chance Steve might still want this? The idea that he might be worth giving up a little bit of peace for, seems way too tantalizing.

The doors to the ER open. Steve spots him and jogs over, the look of relief clear on his face. “Hey, you’re still here,” he says. “I was hoping I wouldn’t miss you,”

“Yeah, um, everything alright in there?” he asks– he doesn’t really care.

“Sure, yeah, Rick’s going to be okay,”

“So, um,” Eddie trails off, suddenly at a loss on what to say.

“Are you going to give me your number then?” Steve asks.

“What?”

“You did ask me on a date, right? Unless you weren’t serious about it. In that case–”

“No! No, I was serious, I swear.” Eddie can’t keep the disbelief off his voice. “You’re saying yes? After everything that happened?”

“Eddie, I really like you,” says Steve. “And I’ve read so many shitty things people have said about you,” Eddie cringes a little, he knows how vile those tabloids can get. “But that was not the man I had known this past week and I want a real chance to get to know you, if that’s okay,”

Before he can stop himself Eddie is careening into Steve, crashing their lips together in a desperate kiss that Steve reciprocates with the same intensity.

“That is so okay,” Eddie breathes. “Love that plan,”

“So,” Steve grins. “Number?”

———

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie summer exchange #rock star eddie munson #firefighter steve Harrington #robin Buckley #chrissy cunningham #modern au #mine #sorry its a bit late

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stressed-out-sloth · 1 year ago

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SBI Spiderverse AU

This Au has been bouncing in my head for a while and its unlikely I’ll ever write it so I thought I might as well share it with the world. I came up with this fic after reading the fantastic fic Feelings Out on Paper (for those who haven’t read it, I would recommend it, it’s got an Ours Poetica kind of vibe to it) and thought “Yeah but what if this was a vigilante fic?” and then I saw the commercials for the new Spiderverse movie and thus this AU was born. I hope you guys like it.

Without further ado, here’s the AU:

Tommy is the adopted son of Phil Watson alongside twins Technoblade and Wilbur

Unfortunately, Tommy’s relationship with his family is very strained

They used to be really close when they were younger, but when Wilbur grew older, he thought it was embarrassing to hang out with his baby brother so he pushed him away and called him annoying so he’d leave him alone

Techno was kind of the same way, becoming more introverted as he grew older, he just kept his distance from everyone and preferred being alone. But Tommy being young didn’t understand this and thought that when Techno avoided him, it was because he was annoying like Wilbur said and not because Techno was like that with almost everyone

When Tommy was 10, the twins left for university and decided to go out on their own after graduating. In the 6 years they’ve been gone, they haven’t contacted Tommy once despite making time to call Phil once a week.

Shortly after the twins left for college, Phil got a promotion at his job that required him to be in the office more often, which meant Tommy was alone most of the time

The thing is, Tommy’s neglect is kind of unintentional. Phil is really busy but he makes sure to check in on Tommy every once in a while, and every time he asks how he’s doing, Tommy always says he’s fine. And why would Tommy lie about that? Phil also doesn’t know about the twins not talking to Tommy. If he knew, he’d be pissed.

The twins also have their reasons, but they’re not good reasons and they definitely don’t justify the 6 years of silence

So Tommy’s neglect isn’t out of malice. Even though it’s unintentional, it’s still neglect and it’s no excuse for their actions. Still, they all care about Tommy even if they don’t show it. Tommy understandably doesn’t see it this way

Tommy thinks he’s ignored because he’s too annoying and loud and he’s not as smart/talented as the others, which is why Phil makes time to call the twins but doesn’t spend time with Tommy

Over the years, Tommy grows bitter towards his family, thinking that he’ll never be worthy of Phil’s love/attention like the twins are. It also doesn’t help how he constantly hears about how successful his brothers are, leaving Tommy to believe he will always live in his brothers’ shadows and that they’re happier now that Tommy isn’t in their lives

Yay miscommunication!

Anyways, one day during a high school field trip, Tommy is separated from his group, stumbles into a room he’s not supposed to be in, and gets bit by a spider. You know how the rest goes

So Tommy develops powers and being the reckless teenager he is decides to test them out. During the test run he stumbles upon a mugging and using his newfound powers decides to step in. A week later, the vigilante Spiderman was born.

At first, Tommy did it for the thrill of using his new powers, but now he genuinely wants to protect the city and enjoys the feeling of helping people (it’s also definitely not an excuse to get out of the empty and quiet house that reminds Tommy of just how alone he is)

It’s been 6 months since Tommy became Spiderman and he’s become a prominent figure in the city. Not everybody appreciates his efforts (especially the cops), but for the most part Spiderman is respected and liked by the people

One day, Tommy comes home to see Phil looking excited. When Tommy asks what’s going on, Phil explains that the twins are coming back to visit during Spring Break

Needless to say, Tommy is not pleased. They ignored him, called him annoying, and then went off to college and cut off all contact with Tommy for years, and NOW they’re coming back just like that? He’s having none of it.

Tommy decides to go on patrol after dinner to blow off some steam. During his patrol, he sees a villain (haven’t decided who yet) messing around with some dangerous and illegal looking technology. Tommy breaks the technology so it doesn’t work anymore, but that causes the device to explode, zapping Tommy with some weird energy, causing him to pass out and for the building to collapse

He wakes up to find that the villain and the remains of the technology are gone. Whatever the machine zapped him with didn’t really hurt/affect him in any obvious way so Tommy heads home

A few days later, the twins come home and things are a bit tense.

Wilbur is acting as though nothing changed in their years apart, expecting Tommy to be the same kid who adored Wilbur and followed him everywhere when they were younger. He wants to spend time with him “like the good old days”, forgetting how cruel he was to Tommy before leaving and cutting contact for 6 years. He’s genuinely surprised and hurt when Tommy acts cold and indifferent towards him.

Unlike Wilbur, Techno figures out why Tommy is being distant but doesn’t realize just how badly his actions damaged their relationship so he gives Tommy space expecting him to come around eventually

Meanwhile, Phil knows things are awkward between his sons but he’s under the delusion that the twins kept in contact with Tommy so he thinks his family is still close and that the awkwardness will soon go away. He’s also around the house more and actually being a somewhat-attentive parent despite his busy schedule now that the twins are back (this doesn’t make Tommy bitter at all)

Tommy wants nothing to do with any of them and decides he needs to get out of the house, so Tommy goes patrolling like he always does when he needs to ignore his personal life

So Tommy is patrolling like normal when all of a sudden, not one but three people show up with similar spider-themed suits and using the same abilities Tommy has

Before Tommy can fully process this, one of them ask if Tommy’s the Spiderman of this reality

The strangers tell Tommy that each of them are a Spiderman from a different reality and were suddenly sucked through a portal and brought here. They were hoping to talk to the Spiderman of this reality to figure out what’s going on

The four of them decide to go somewhere private to talk to figure out what happened and how to get each of them back to their own reality

As they’re discussing theories, Tommy remembers about being blasted by the weird energy from the villain’s device and how it seemingly unaffected him.

The four of them theorize that the device was built to bring people from alternate realities into this one, and upon hitting Tommy, the technology decided to bring in people with similar DNA, AKA, other Spider-people

The four of them decide it would be best to reveal their identities for convenience and since they’re from different realities secret identities don’t matter so much

So they all unmask and Tommy finds out that the other Spidermen are Phil, Wilbur, and Techno

Tommy kind of freaks out for a bit, and so do the rest of the Spider SBI (they are especially concerned and surprised about Tommy being Spiderman)

They all share their backstories and find out that the four of them are a family in every universe, the main thing that’s different is which member of their family got bit. Another thing that’s different is the timeline with Tommy getting his powers only half a year ago while the rest of the Spider SBI has had their powers for a few years. (The Spider SBI are concerned about how young Tommy is but are glad he didn’t become a vigilante at 13-14)

Fun Fact: All members of the Spider SBI were bit by different spiders. All of them have the standard powers (which includes biological webbing because let’s face it, none of the SBI are smart enough to make web-shooters) but each of them also has one unique ability. Tommy can create bio-electricity like Miles Morales, but he can’t turn invisible, that power is belongs to Wilbur. Techno has stingers coming out of his wrists that can paralyze people and Phil’s healing factor is so advanced he can regenerate and is practically immortal (think Deadpool or Wolverine)

After doing more planning/investigation on how to get them back to their realities, Tommy says he has to go home but will meet back with them in a while

The next day, this reality’s Wilbur wants to hang out with Tommy, being very pushy about it. Tommy rejects him and lies, saying how he already had plans with friends and leaves to reunite with Spider SBI to help them out.

At first Wilbur was ok with it, thinking that there would always be another chance, but then Tommy rejects Wilbur’s advances the next day and then the next day. Every time Wilbur feels more and more hurt and confused, not knowing why Tommy is treating him so coldly. He also thinks Tommy’s hiding something and desperately wants to know what it is but is told by Techno not be nosey and go snooping through Tommy’s things.

Meanwhile, Tommy is spending time with Spider SBI trying to get them back home.

While they’re investigating, the Spider SBI want to get to know Tommy and ask him things like what his hobbies are, if he has friends, if he’s happy. In that time Tommy also gets to know his fellow spiders, about the ways that they’re similar and different from his own family

The Spider SBI are kind to him, they laugh at his jokes and tell him they don’t think he’s annoying. They are supportive, bandaging him up when he gets hurt, understanding his needs as a meta human, and helping him with some tricks they learned from their experiences as Spiderman

Tommy feels more love and care in a few days from the Spider SBI than he has felt from his actual family in 6+ years

One day, Spider Techno asks if his family is ok with him spending so much time away from the house, surely they must be worried about him, right? And all of a sudden it’s like a damn burst. Tommy tells them everything, about the twins being cruel and ignoring him before leaving for college and cutting contact for 6 years, about Phil barely being around during that time, about how the twins show up out of nowhere and how everyone expects things to back to the way things were.

To say the Spider SBI are pissed is putting it mildly, they are furious about how poorly their counterparts have treated Tommy over the years. They reassure Tommy that he did nothing wrong, that its his family’s fault and they don’t deserve him.

Tommy leaves the Spider SBI feeling lighter, reassured, and feeling a lot better about himself. But all of that comes crashing down when Tommy sneaks into his room only to find Wilbur standing there, holding one of Tommy’s spare spider suits

Being impatient and nosey, Wilbur had ignored Techno’s advice of not invading Tommy’s privacy and decided he needed to know what Tommy was hiding and he needed to know now, convinced that whatever he was hiding was the reason Tommy was being so distant.

Wilbur hadn’t expected finding out that his younger brother was a freaking vigilante with superpowers

Wilbur then waits in Tommy’s room for his brother to return, and when he does, Wilbur confronts him about being Spiderman. He starts scolding Tommy about being reckless and stupid and about how dangerous his little hobby is.

He then asks Tommy if he even cares about how worried they all were, about how being Spiderman was clearly driving a wedge between their family and making him distant with everyone (because surely that was the only explanation for why Tommy didn’t want to be with his family)

Tommy. Fucking. Snaps.

Tommy screams at Wilbur that he has no right to say he’s been worried about him after being a shitty brother and never bothering to call once in the years he’s been gone. He keeps going and says how even before he left he wanted nothing to do with Tommy because he was “too annoying”

The commotion causes Phil and Techno to see what’s going on and they see Wilbur holding Tommy’s spider suit. Wilbur helpfully fills them in on his recent discovery that Tommy was Spiderman

Phil feels hurt, asking why Tommy never told to him, to which Tommy replies “Why would I? You’re never here.”

Tommy then goes on a well-deserved rant about how alone and abandoned he’s felt and how it is unfair for Phil, Wilbur and Techno to shut Tommy out of their lives for years only to now all of a sudden want to be a part of his own life. They didn’t care about him before, so why should they start caring about him now

Techno tells Tommy he’s being unfair, that they’ve always cared about him and have a right to worry about him because they’re family. Tommy just says he hasn’t felt like a part of the family in years before jumping out the window and running away

The next morning, Spider SBI find Tommy and ask him what’s wrong, to which Tommy tells them about what happened the night before and that his family found out his identity

Spider SBI are FURIOUS. Spider Wilbur is especially angry about how his counterpart acted

The Spider SBI tell Tommy he should go on patrol and beat up some bad guys to make himself feel better while they hold down the fort and make progress on how to get back to their dimensions

Tommy agrees and goes out, and as soon as he’s gone the Spider SBI start to plan

So the Spider SBI go hunting and find their counterparts (who are all kicking themselves and wallowing in self-pity over what they’d done to Tommy, feeling horribly guilty and ashamed) and then proceed to kidnap them and bring them back to their base

Once there, the Spider SBI reveal their identities and then start tearing into this dimension’s versions of Phil, Wilbur and Techno, going on and on about just how shitty they were and that they don’t deserve Tommy

This is when Tommy walks in, back from patrol a little earlier than expected. He sees his family all tied up and being yelled out by the Spider versions of themselves and naturally is confused and concerned

When Tommy says that this treatment is a little much, the Spider SBI disagree, especially Spider Wilbur.

He goes on about they need to hear this, that they need to realize just how badly they messed up and how much they’ve taken Tommy for granted and just how lucky they are to have him

Spider Wilbur then says he would do anything to have Tommy back in his life again

And of course, Tommy asks Spider Wilbur what exactly he means by then

As it turns out, Spider SBI all have something in common: shortly after gaining their powers, their version of Tommy died to a criminal, and his death inspired them to help others

In other words, Tommy is their Uncle Ben’

This is why Spider SBI reacted so strangely when they found out Tommy was this universe’s Spiderman and why they were so angry about their counterparts’ treatment of Tommy. Because in their universe, Tommy’s been dead for years and this universe’s SBI don’t realize just how lucky they are to have him in their lives

I haven’t figured out the exact details of the rest of the plot but I do know the ending

Spider SBI with the help of Tommy (and possibly regular SBI) manage to go back home to their own dimensions after defeating the villain. They all have an emotional and tearful goodbye, with Spider SBI telling Tommy that they’ll miss him and Tommy telling them that he’s sure their Tommy’s would be so proud of them

After that the Phil, Wilbur, and Techno of this dimension all apologize to Tommy for how they treated him and resolve to be better after finding out how much Tommy suffered and getting a wake up call from their Spider selves

Slowly, they become more involved in Tommy’s life, supporting and helping him out with being Spiderman when they can while also being there for him in his normal life

It takes a very long time with probably a lot of therapy, but very slowly the four of them heal and become a real family again

Wow that was a lot of writing. If you’re reading this it means you’ve made it this far and I’m really thankful you took the time to read my ramblings. I really hope you enjoyed this silly little AU, until next time!

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kywaslost · 1 year ago

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Ciel Helps You With Your Anxiety

A/N: I started writing this while I was on my cruise, and just now got around to finishing it. I hope this turned out alright. Ciel is most likely OOC, since that’s how it works with most of my writings. But I guess it’s helping me out because I’ve been anxious lately and I’m not even doing anything. Please let me know what you think! Oh, and this is a female reader btw.

Rain beat against the windows of Phantomhive Manor as the storm outside raged on. Lightning flashed every few moments, followed closely by rumbles of thunder. You didn’t usually mind thunderstorms, more often than not you found them peaceful and perfect for reading or winding down for the day. Except today it did nothing but make you feel even more on edge.

You weren’t sure why you were feeling so anxious today. You had been doing so well the past week or so, being able to get through the day with minimal anxiety and worry. You were so proud of yourself, and so was Ciel and Sebastian, especially. The two had seen you through your worst and your best, and knowing that you had been doing so well made them so happy for you. So when you woke up with that tight feeling in your chest, your mood deflated almost instantly.

“Is something the matter, Miss L/N?” Sebastian asked as he prepared your morning tea. He noticed your mood change almost instantly. You had only been awake for a few minutes, so he was hoping it was just you being tired.

You snapped out of your thoughts at Sebastian’s voice, shaking your head slightly before offering a half-smile. “No, not at all, Sebastian. Thank you.” After serving you breakfast in bed, Sebastian listed off the day’s events as he picked out an outfit for you.

“Your schedule is quite clear today, Miss. Master has asked that you look over and sign a few documents before dinner. That is all that I have for you today.”

You heard the demon, and knowing that you had an easy day calms your nerves ever so slightly. So you went about your day with an optimistic mindset. After breakfast and being dressed by Mey-Rin, you made your way to the library. You didn’t feel quite ready to be around others just yet, and you knew that Ciel would notice your anxiety so you decided to relax in the library with a good book.

Except that didn’t work. From the moment you sat down you felt like you were forgetting something, or that you could be more productive. So, replacing your bookmark and setting your book on the side table, you stood and made your way to the small storage closet in the library. You pulled out a small hand-held duster and began running it along the bookshelves.

It wasn’t more than five minutes before Sebastian stepped into the room, sneaking up on you and causing you to jump when he gently stopped your hand from dusting the shelves. You gasped, whipping around to see the demon butler.

He only smiled kindly. “My apologies, Miss L/N. I did not mean to startle you. May I ask why you are cleaning the library? You should not be tasked with such trivial things.”

You bit your bottom lip, quickly glancing to the floor. You scraped your thoughts with some excuse as to why you were doing Sebastian’s chore. “Sorry, Sebastian. I just thought I’d help. I don’t mind cleaning.”

Sebastian gently took the duster from you, setting it down on the nearest shelf. “I appreciate your help, but I believe I can manage on my own.”

You nodded, then turned to go back to your chair. Your chest tightened even more and you were overcome with the feeling of crying. You opened your book and stared at the pages as Sebastian began cleaning the library. After a few minutes your leg began bouncing beneath your book. You couldn’t help but feel like Sebastian was upset with you. All you were trying to do was keep yourself occupied to push down your anxious feelings. Was he upset that you tried to do his job? Did he think you thought he wasn’t doing his work to the best of his ability?

Deciding you had had enough, you stood and made your way to the exit.

“May I ask where you are going, Miss L/N?” Sebstian asked as he put the duster back in the storage closet.

You avoided his ruby eyes as you passed him. “I’m just going to see Ciel.” You quickly left the room and made your way to the Earl’s office.

Ciel was sitting at his desk, looking over a small stack of papers when you slid into the room, silently closing the door behind you. Ciel only looked up from his work when he saw you sit down across from him. He immediately took note of your slumped posture, lack of eye contact, and the slight jerk of your jeg as you anxiously bounced it up and down in front of you. But the boy refrained from saying anything about it. He knew you’d speak when you felt ready, and if just sitting with him in silence is what you needed, then he’d let you.

Ciel knew all of your anxious signals or movements. He knew that depending how you moved your body showed how much anxiety truly was controlling you. So when you began shaking your hands for minutes without stopping, the boy finally set down his pen and looked up from his paper. He stood and made his way to the front of the desk, leaning against it as he bent over slightly and gently took your hands in his to stop your shaking.

“Hey,” he said softly, uncharacteristically of the Earl. But he cared about you, so he was willing to risk his reputation to make sure you were alright. “Stop. You will hurt yourself.” He turned your hands so they were palm up, running his thumbs over the center of your palms. “Y/N, look at me please.”

You hesitated before lifting your gaze to Ciel’s blue eye. He didn’t look concerned, more sympathetic as he tried to read your facial expression to find the reason for your anxiety. You muttered a quiet, “I’m sorry,” before averting your gaze again.

“Whatever for?” Ciel asked. “What is on your mind, darling?”

You shrugged and took a deep sigh. “I woke up with this tight feeling in my chest, and…” you took another breath, “I don’t know how to make it go away.”

“And what did we say you do when you feel like this?” Ciel asked calmly.

“Stop, breathe, rationalize,” you answered back.

“So why don’t you do that?”

You followed the Earl’s instructions, taking a moment to inhale and exhale to calm you down. Then you started to rationalize. “I have no reason to feel anxious. My schedule is free. I’m in the manor. I feel safe. Sebastian is one call away. I’m in your study, and you’re right in front of me.”

“Good,” Ciel praised. “How do you feel now?” Your hands were still in his, and his thumbs still traced over the palms of your hands.

You nodded slightly, finally making eye contact with the boy again. “Still anxious, but manageable.”

“Can I let go of your hands now?” He answered with a nod. Ciel gently let go, then moved to sit back in his desk chair.

White light lit up the room for a fraction of a second before a loud boom echoed throughout the manor. It caused you to squeal and pull your legs up to your chest. You had forgotten about the storm raging outside. Ciel was quick to rush back to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Alright, it’s alright. You are alright, dear.” Tears brimmed your eyes as you whimpered and buried your face into your knees.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered again. “I shouldn’t be scared. I shouldn’t cry. I have no-”

“Stop.” Ciel’s voice was stern. “It is understandable. The storm is only making it worse. Do not apologize for something that you cannot control.” He rubbed your shoulder gently as he looked around the room. Ciel let out an agitated sigh. “I apologize, but I cannot step away from my work.” You immediately reached up and gripped the hand that was on your shoulder. Ciel’s hand rotated to give yours a comforting squeeze. “I can call Sebastian to sit with you. Perhaps he could take you to the library? He can light the fireplace, and you can read, or lay down and Sebastian can read to you. I’ll order him to stay by your side, and I promise I will come find you the second I finish my work.”

You took in a shaky breath. “I just want to go back to my room, please.”

Ciel gave your hand another gentle squeeze. “Of course, love. I’m going to raise my voice briefly to call for Sebastian, alright?” At your nod, Ciel quickly yelled out the demon’s name, and the supernatural being appeared in the doorway in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, my lord?” Sebastian asked immediately.

Ciel looked from your trembling form over to his butler. “Take Y/N to her room, and stay with her until I finish my work. Provider her with any comfort she needs. That’s an order.”

Sebastian bowed slightly. “Yes, my lord.” He walked over to you and knelt down in front of you. “May I pick you up Miss Y/N?” You nodded shakily and slowly let go of Ciel’s hand, reaching your arms out to the demon. He let you wrap your arms around his neck before gently picking you up and cradling you against him. Turning to his master, Sebastian said, “I will take proper care of her. There is no need to worry.”

#comfort #x reader #platonic #ciel fantomhive comfort #ciel fantomhive fluff #ciel fantomhive #ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive x reader comfort #black butler comfort #black butler fluff #black butler x reader #black butler fanfiction #black butler #anxiety comfort

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deanscherrypie420 · 6 months ago

Text

Demons Blood - Part 2

A/N : Hi guys! I literally forced myself to write this because I WANTED TO WRITE but I woke up like.. twenty minutes ago.. ermmm.. ANYWHO, I hope you enjoy! I recommend reading PT1 before PT2

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Y/N, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Warnings: Angst, arguing, physical fights, supernatural hunting, over-consumption of alcohol, drinking, crying, suggestive dialogue, demons, blood, scarring, insecure about weight, SH reference. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: You were born a demon. You never found out why, but you have demon blood in your veins. Your father left when you were young and you've lived with Bobby ever since. Now, the Winchesters are living with you and Bobby and you hate it. You being and demon is the only thing Dean knows about you, and you and him can't stop fighting. Thankfully, Sam and Castiel are your safe place..

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It had been weeks since Dean slapped her. Now, they pretty much ignored each other, not wanting to start anything in front of Bobby. She would still bring it up sometimes, finally getting payback for the torment Dean has put her through.

"C'mon, Sammy, it's not like I'm hurting him. He deserves it and you know it." She whined. She didn't understand why Sam was so hell bent on her and Dean getting along. "He's my brother, and you're like my sister! You two should really just.. I don't know, maybe stop being stubborn and apologize to each other?" Sam suggested cautiously.

She groaned and kicked him off her bed. Truthfully, just rolled with the kick and she knew that. "Stop defending him, Sam! He's an asshole and I hate him, and I'm starting to hate you right now. Get out." She huffed as she gestured to her door. He got up off the floor and walked to the door. "I'm just saying, maybe you two could be friends." He prodded with his signature puppy-dog look. "Get out." She demanded back, and he obeyed with a sigh.

A little bit later she left her room and went to the kitchen. She grabbed her water bottle and filled it with ice, the cold crystals clinking as they fell into the metal stomach. Dean came around the corner and watched her for a second, a small smile playing on his lips. He cleared his throat to get her attention, and she turned towards him, an immediate frown appearing on her face.

"What do you want?" She questioned. He rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to her. She stepped back and gave him a look that clearly translated back the fuck up or I will kill you. He did so and leaned against the kitchen table. "I just wanted to see how you're doing, I guess." She rolled her eyes at his statement. So annoying, she thought.

"I'm doing great actually. Life's been good knowing I'm not the only monster under this roof." She remarked casually as she filled up her water. He jaw ticked and he glared down at her. "Can you drop it already? I don't get what the fuck your issue is with me."

Her brows raised and she scoffed, her eyes wide as if what he just said was fucking hilarious. "You don't get my issue? God! You are so pathetic, Winchester!" She shook her head, utter rage bubbling up in her stomach.

Fortunately for Dean, Bobby and Sam came in just in time to prevent the conversation from going further. "You guys wanna go out and get some food? There's a diner nearby." Sam said, knowing exactly what he walked in on.

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At the diner Y/N was chatting with a guy, making small talk by the bar. Dean couldn't stop staring. He didn't know why, he hates her. But damn, watching her sit there with that glowing smile.. He wished it was him.

Suddenly, Sam nudged his brother under the table with his foot, making Dean's knee bounce up in surprise. He slammed his leg against the underside of the old table, causing the contents on it to rattle. "Seriously, Sam? The hell is your problem?" Dean hissed. Sam just chuckled and shook his head. "Dude, you've been eyeing her for like twenty minutes." When Dean shot Sam daggers with his eyes, Sam put his hands up in surrender. "C'mon, why are you staring at her so hard?" The younger Winchester teased. "Sammy, drop it." Dean demanded as he saw you approaching the table.

Y/N nudged Sam over with her elbow and he scooted down the booth. She sighed happily and leaned her head back, a smirk playing on her lips. "I'm the shit." Sam cocked a brow and tilted his head, "How so?" Dean interrupted the brief conversation when he cleared his throat.

"That guy seemed like an ass." He muttered before a sip of beer. Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes back, not bothering to respond to him. Dean just chuckled, "That was hot." He said casually, and her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?-" She started, but Sam cut her off. "Dean, seriously?" Sam said with an eye roll of his own. He gestured to the side with one of hands, "Porn," he began, now moving his hands to the other side, "Real life. There's a difference."

Bobby had come back from the bathroom now and laughed as he heard their conversation. Y/N just sat there, feeling a pleasant sense of comfort at all of them being together, even if she didn't like Dean.

Maybe she liked him a little more than she let on.

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"Jesus Christ, it smells awful in here." She murmured, covering her nose with her wrist as she stepped over a mysterious liquid. Sam laughed and Dean shook his head, an amused smile growing on his face. "Get used to it, Sweetheart." She didn't have to turn around to know he was grinning. Whatever, moron, she thought to herself.

They were in an old ranch. The group assumed that it was being used as a werewolf hideout. They ended up splitting up somewhere along the lines, she wasn't exactly sure when she had started going her own way, but she had a feeling she would find something. She heard something behind her and she turned around swiftly, her eyes quickly turning into black pools at the possibility of a threat. Her foot landed on a metal pool, making her slip and fall back. She tried to reach for something behind her to catch herself, but failed.

An arm quickly wrapped around her and hoisted her up right. She pushed whoever the hell grabbed her back, and then pulled out her gun. Castiel put his hands up in defense, something he saw Sam do often. Y/N let out an airy laugh, her eyes returning to normal, and pressed her gun to his chest. Not in a threatening way, but just a teasing way to push him back. "Jeez, dude. Way to scare me." Her cheeks were flushed and she was panting, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Cas shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, something he picked up from Dean, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He said quietly. She put her gun away and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, you're fine."

She then turned and gasped, another imaginary threat appearing in front of her. "Dammit!" She said as she realized it was just the brothers. She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the imaginary box the boys had made with their bodies. "You guys planned that." She shook her head and scoffed, still a bit startled by the double-scare.

Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze, "Relax, Y/N. You're too tense." She wiggled out of his grasp and rolled her eyes, "Shut it, moose." They both let out a laugh before Cas felt like he was missing something.

He cleared his throat and slung an arm around Y/N, copying what Sam had done, "Yeah, shut it moose." He echoed, and Sam and her burst out in laughter. Dean shook his head with a laugh, enjoying the stupidity of their humor.

After a moment of silly remarks and nonstop laughing, Sam finally announced that they should get back to the car. With a groan of compliance, Y/N and Dean agreed and began walking to the car, not realizing that Sam had pulled Cas to walk behind them.

"Hey, are we alright?" Dean asked, glancing over at her. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Dean, don't ruin my mood right now." He bit his lip and nodded. "Sorry." Dean stated quietly.

She felt air get caught in her throat as she realized what he said. That was the first time he ever apologized to her. She cleared her throat and bumped him with her arm, "Thanks. I'm gonna go walk with Sam and Cas." Dean nodded and gave a small smile.

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When they got back to Bobby's after the case, Dean and her were at each other's throats. Sam had to deal with it on his own during the car ride because Castiel chickened out and left.

"You are such a fucking idiot, I did the right thing! You could've gotten hurt if I didn't!" Y/N screamed at Dean once they got inside. Dean slammed his hand down on the table, which made her flinch. "That son of a bitch could've killed you because you did that!"

She groaned and tossed her head back as Bobby walked in. "What's goin' on?" Bobby probed. Y/N gave him a look that could've killed, and Dean scoffed. "She put her life on the line! She used herself as bait when she knows damn well we don't let her do that any more!"

She rolled her eyes and slammed her freshly opened beer bottle down, immediately snapping back, "It was not bait! I lured the goddamn thing out so you could kill it!" Dean started walking towards her, towering down in front of her. He glanced down at her beer and took it from her hands.

"You aren't even old enough to drink yet, I don't know why we keep you around. Too immature." He growled at her. Bobby cleared his throat and leaned over the table, grabbing the bottle from Dean's hands. "Her birthday was a couple days ago, don't disrespect her like that." Bobby declared, and she laughed at Dean.

"I've been twenty-one for two days and I've been hunting since I was sixteen, don't you dare call me immature." Bobby gave her a look and her shoulders slumped, "What?" She muttered. "You were acting irrational on the hunt, you should know better than that. You keep yourself safe first, always." Bobby lectured to her and she rolled her eyes.

It was Dean's turn to laugh now, a small chuckle bellowing from his throat. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, heading straight to Sam's.

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She was laying upside down on Sam's bed, venting about how frustrated she was to Sam and Castiel. Castiel was sitting in a black spinning chair at a desk that occupied the corner of Sam's room. He spun back and forth while listening, oddly fascinated with the way the chair moved. Sam was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, rubbing her leg in an attempt to soothe her. His head rested against the headboard and his eyes were closed as he listened to her rant.

"I don't understand how Bobby agrees with him! I was in the right! I did the right thing, I didn't even get hurt!" Sam cleared his throat at this, tilting his head down to look at her. "You got a pretty good scratch on your back. I understand that's not your point but you can't leave out details.." She hit his leg, biting her lip as she thought of what to say.

Castiel chimed in before she could think of anything. "I healed her though, and she knew I was there. I think you are correct," He said as he nodded his head towards her, "She did the best thing she could in the moment." Sam processed what he said and reluctantly agreed. "Yeah, okay. I just don't think we should hate Dean for being worried."

She laughed and moved to look over at Sam, using her elbows to hold her up. "Are you serious? I hate him for many more reasons than that." Sam shook his head and Cas shrugged.

A knock on the door took them out of their conversation. She flipped over onto her stomach, now resting in-between Sam's legs. "Come in," she ordered, and the door opened slightly.

Dean came in and immediately focused on the two. He cleared his throat and his brows furrowed. "Cute," he said, motioning towards Sam. Before Sam could respond, Dean continued. "I was just comin' to apologize." He murmured, now looking at her. She nodded and propped her head up on her hands, elbows digging into the mattress. "Go on," she urged and he did. "I'm sorry for yelling at you.. And uh, being rude, ya know, how I called you immature."

She nodded and gave a small smile, "Thanks, Dean." He nodded as well and rubbed the back of his neck. The room fell silent as they just stared at each other for a moment. He swore her eyes were a brighter shade of Y/E/C. They were beautiful.

Sam cleared his throat and Dean snapped back to reality. "Uh, I'm gonna go.. Probably gonna go watch a movie or something, if any of you wanna join." Y/N nodded and smiled and so did Cas.

Once Dean left, Sam nudged her with his leg. "You got something you wanna tell us?" He said, his tone was teasing but she was confused. "What do you mean? He apologized, that's a good thing." Sam nodded with a chuckle and Castiel stopped spinning, intrigued by the conversation at hand.

"What I mean is that look. You guys were staring into each other's souls." Sam said with another laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about." She muttered, moving to sit up.

Sam shook his head and crossed his legs on the bed, a rather awkward position for such a tall person. "I think you two would be cute together." Sam remarked, making her tilt her head. He put his hands up and began rambling to defend himself, but she was already lost in thought.

Maybe we would be...

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A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! I was really unmotivated today but I wanted to post another part. I wanted to write but I couldn't grasp the motivation so I hope this is good lol

Feel free to reblog, like and comment! I really hope you guys like it! Message me if you have any requests!

xoxo

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