Omg But Picture Soap And Ghost Coming Back From Leave And Hearing Birdy Freaking Out In The Next Room,

"lesbians for a free Palestine"

downtown Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

I need a quote for my yearbook, please help!

8-9 words, preferably short words because there isn't much space. No swear words, science gags excepted but can't be inappropriate because the teacher putting the book together is a science teacher.

live laugh lasagna

The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you.

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk X FemReader

Healthy mix of Angst and Fluff.

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Part 2

Buggy

"You two get your asses down now!" You yelled, trying to stop the two blue haired boys from destroying the restaurant further. Your two identical twins sons where only 11 years old but they were trouble- Double Trouble as everyone called them. Benny and Danny, who had given themselves the Nicknames of Bee and Dee- cause of course they did.

It wasnt just their dramatic tendencies, destructive nature or lack of volume control that made them silkar to a know pirate but also their appearance Who was non other then- Buggy the Clown. While they did lack the trademarked rounded red nose. They did get almost everything else- Long nlue locks, watercolor eyes and that crooked smile of theirs- it really wasn't fair how your genes didn't even have a chance-

It hasn't exactly been your best of moments when you conceived your children- Having been a performer on the famous pirate ship you ended up sleeping with your Captian one night on his Silly Throne. A few weeks later you started to feel unwell and realized you had been pregnant. In a moment of panic you fled the ship the next time it docked- Running from your Crew and Captian to never be seen again.

Once realizing you were on your own. You did what you could to make a living- opening a flashy little restaurant and using it to raise your two trouble makers. Dee running past you with a giggle snapped you from your thoughts, frowning as you set down your customers order infront of them before following the boy.

"Mom Mom! Look!" Bee yelled as he stood on one of the tables pointing out the window of the restaurant at the open ocean, Dee taking his place next to his twin. You walked closer to see what your son was looking at, the fog being thick that night as you tried to focus on what he was seeing.

Squinting your eyes you finally saw it- a Ship. As your eyes focused you saw the Jolly Roger and gasped, Ice feeling like it ran through your vain. You grabbed the boys quickly and backed away from the window. As if on cue the alarms set to alert that pirates had arrived. The sounds of canons hitting the town soon peirced through the alarms and the whole town erupted in chaos. You rush from the windows to the back of your restaurant.

Rushing down the stairs you knew Buggy and the crew would level the town to ashes. The best place to hid being the cellar, while it was small it would hopefully keep you and your boys safe. "Mom what's happening!?" Dee cried as he did his best to keep up with your fast pace. You didn't bother responding as you rushed to the old underground cellar lifting the rug and opened its little door.

"Mom I don't want to go down there!" Bee cried as you lowered him in the cellar first, Dee following soon after as you tried to sooth them.

"I know I know my loves, But do as I say- Stay quiet and-"

You paused as you heard the sound of crashing from out in the dining room followed by screams. Quickly you climbed in with your boys and lowered the wooden door of the cellar above you and frantically tried to place the rug so it fell onto it before plunging you and your sons in darkness.

You sat there shaking, holding your boys close to your chest as you heard the sound of someone walking towards you. Your hands shaking as you held them closer, feeling the moisture of your sons tears soaking into your dress.

You heard the sound of footsteps starting to search the room above you. Previously looking for valuables or anything interesting-

"Captian! I found the liquor!" The voice above you called out, Clearly grabbing the cases of rum that sat in the room above. Heavier footsteps followed into the room, hearing the cackle that made your skin stand up on end.

"Grab it all and whatever people you can find! We have a show tonight afterall!" You heard Buggy voice sound. The crew mate clearly rushing out with the cases while Buggy remained. You heard him turn through the room, ready to leave before his heavy steps landed on the cellar door above you it's old wood groaning at the weight. Your eyes widened as you realized you'd been caught, Without time to react the door was ripped open and you couldn't help but release a scream.

Buggy- In his hands you see his signature blades as he grinned down in the cellar. Reaching down and grabbing you by the hair and yanking you out-

"A new audience memeber!- wait" He raised an eyebrow as he held you up higher by your hair and looked over your crying face. His eyes looking over your face. "I know you... (Y/N)?" He asked questionably before his eyes shot to see a flash of blue dart at him and kick him as another one came to try and pull you from his grasp.

"Let her go!" "LEAVE OUR MAMA ALONE!" Your boys desperately screamed as they weakly tried to attack the man holding you. Buggy dropping you quickly as he stared down at the three of you, You quickly pulling the boys away from him and behind you.

A awkward silence following this as Buggy released a shaky breath before laughing loudly. A insane laugh that had him doubled over, before looking at you again with crazed eyes. A few crew members coming into the room after hearing their Captian laugh, especially at the sight of you, their former crewmate and two boys that looked like their Captian.

"Freaks, Take these three and lock them in my personal Quarters. We got a family reunion!"

Shanks

"Mommy I have Missy Luc-ia ready!" You heard your daughter call out. Setting out the freshly frosted cupcake, onto the countertop, that she was just barely taller then. Smiling down at the bright face before you- She may be only 4 but she was the sweetest girl.

"Thank you Vivian. Can you grab the order list for Mommy?" You ask, getting an exaggerated nod and running off. Her mess of bright red hair bouncing with each step. A little clone of her dad, The famed Shanks 'Red Hair' a former fling of yours.

It had been a nice little relationship you two shared, him coming by every other week to meet with you when his ship restocked. Buying random pastries you knew he bought to get close to you, always complimenting your Baking skills and sweetness. Which ended up to many passionate nights both in your own bed and on Shanks ship. The last time you met, Shanks told you he had to go for a while and didn't know if he's return. Tears shed as you watched him set sail- having the feeling you'd never see him again.

As if the gods had sympathy for you or wanted to use you as a cruel joke you fell pregnant. Giving birth to your daughter who ended up being a Shanks part 2. A giggly and happy baby with unique red hair, while she was a perfect mix of the two of you in terms of face she inherited Shank's smile, hair and eye shape.

As you packed the poorly frosted cupcake that your daughter had made. Ignoring the fingerprints in its frosting- you hit it in the back of the fridge you'd never tell her you couldn't sell it since she had eaten part of her work and replaced it with the true finishes product to be delivered.

As you finished your packing you heard the bell of your bakery door chime.

"Welcome to the Sweet treats bakery, how can I help yo-" the words froze to your lips as you saw Shanks. Eyes wide at seeing him again, it was clear he had delt with some serious wear and tear by how the world seemed to settle on his shoulders a bit more.

"(Y/N) long time no see" He said softly as he stared at you, mentally still trying to process what you were seeing. He stepped forward, Looking ready to explain himself away before the sound of tiny footsteps drew him in- Seeing the little girl holding a notepad with all your orders and running to you. Out of muscle memory you scooped your daughter and placed her on your hip, she smiled at you and held the order book out to you again which you gingerly took.

"Here you go Mommy!" She chimed, Looking at you as she noted your shocked face. Her gaze following the now shocked man, He looked like a breeze could knock him down as he stared at her then you then her again.

"Shes mine isn't she?" Shanks asked, his eyes never leaving the little girl on your hip. Vivian looking at Shank's then you confused at what was taking place. Before you could respond however it seemed Shank's answered his own question. Laughing loudly in utter joy and jumping forward towards you, scaling the countertop like it wasn't even there and crashed his lips against yours happily.

"Ha! I'm a Dad!!" He cheered, Taking his one arm around you and starting to spin you and Vivian who at first was scared. But hearing the giggles from the man started to as well- the two even laughed the same which made the Red Haired man even happier.

"Y-Yes Shanks. She is yours...This is Vivian" You said softly, watching Shanks lean in close to view his daughter. It was like he had found the most amazing treasure in the world and it shone in his eyes.

"Vivian, Such a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl in the world" He said in awe, earning a shy smile from Vivian.

"Vi, This is... this is your Daddy" You say softly, watching Vivian look up at you then back at Shanks. Hesitant at first before holding out her arms tk him, taking the opportunity he scooped her up in his single arm and held her close. Tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at her delicate face, her chubby little fingers touching his face and looking over him.

"You're my Daddy?" She asked innocently. A smile breaking over Shanks face as he nodded and held her close, tears pouring down his face.

"That's right baby girl- I'm your Daddy"

Mihawk

It had been 16 long years since you had laid eyes on Mihawk- a simple one night stand that had long consequences that followed. Your son, your beautiful baby boy who you named Alucare.

It had been at a bar, the two of you drinking and simply talking. Before one thing lead to another in the alleyway next to the bar- You truthfully cringed at the thought of how embarrassing it was to be undone by a few nice words, a charming warlord and some drinks.

"Mother, which one did you want?" Your son asked, snapping you from your thoughts pointing to the fishmongers selection, his emotionless face like a carbon copy of his father's.

Truthfully he looked too much like his damn father- same yellow eyes, black hair, very tall form, stoic face the only thing missing was the facial hair Which you thanked The Gods for since you didn't think you could stare at your one night stands face forever. Alucare did have some differences, he had your nose as well as kept his hair longer. The thick spicy locks hitting the center of his back which you helped him care for. But truthfully that was really it-

You also knew that other people would star long at your boy, a few times Marines having come up to see your son when he was walking to school or going to the market. He knew who his father was, having Marines who had seen him in battle tell him as much. However he never seemed to care, just giving them a frosty look that made them back away before leaving. Whenever you'd brought up the topic of His father he often would sit quietly for a few moments before saying he wasn't interested in such a conversation which you respected.

"Hmm, that one is fresher-" You say sweetly as your boy grabs the fish and plops it in the basket, Handing the merchant the berries.

Always the gentleman he would take your arm in his as the two of you walked. He would hold the heavier baskets and give you only bread or a small bag of fruit. He was too kind as a child, you felt bad at times at how his eyes seemed to know the struggles you had faced when he was born and tried to help you out now that he was older besides your persistence.

"Alucare, I heard from your teachers yoh got very high marks again. Do you want to celebrate? Maybe a nice dinner is in order? Or-"

"It's just a test Mother. No need for so much trouble" He said softly, giving a hint of a smile at his words. You chuckled at him and shook your head. Stubborn too.

You felt your son stop midstep- Glancing up at him as his face turned to stone before your eyes.

"Honey?" You call to him, before following his gaze at what had caught his attention. Across the market a dark figure stood, You immediately felt your heart drop to your stomach as you knew instantly who it was- Mihawk standing there with the same stoic expression as Alucare but his eyes seemed to be a bit wider. Most likely the closest to shock that could come over his face-

You tugged slightly to turn back, not wanting to create a accidental scene but your son clearly had other plans. Instead starting to walk again, His arm still holding yours as he kept his gaze at Mihawk. You expected Alucare to stop infront of Mihawk- a blowup or something but. No.

Alucare just walked past Mihawk- Like he wasn't even there. His face staying forward as no words passed. As you continued to walk you turned to look behind you where you saw Mihawk, he seemed to stagger on his feet like someone had finally peirced him with a blade.. but it seemed to be a invisible one to his heart.

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔? - Part One

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x f!reader Smut Warnings: smut // fingering, public sex, choking, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation Summary: Your parents are important political figures and Jackson Rippner has been stalking you for weeks. You're an introverted person, constantly reading to escape your daily life. But what happens when you happen to be in a bookstore, alone? Word Count: 2.6k A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first time writing fanfiction. Hope y'all like it, it probably sucks. Oops. I've been obsessed with Jackson Rippner since the first time I watched Red Eye (lol, literally years ago), and the quantity of fics is chronically low, so here we are. Read Part 2 here.

You had always loved to read. It relaxed you, distracting you from the loneliness that came from everyday life. Perhaps you were so lonely because of your parents. You had never known a normal life, not by any standard. Your father, a senator, had reminded you incessantly of the public image you were to uphold. Every step, every touch, every moment was scrutinized by the media and your father’s opponents. You were well aware. Every time you stepped outside your bedroom, you almost expected a camera to be shoved into your face and questions to be thrown at you… as if you had any answers.

The harassment you had faced early on had caused an ache in your life. An ache that seemed impossible to fill. Every teenage girl dreams of experiencing relationships like the ones in the movies. But your father had insisted that such a thing would risk ruining his reputation. He could not have you consorting with someone who wouldn’t uphold his public view. Whatever. It wasn’t like anyone paid attention to you, anyway. Now, as an adult, living on your own, you still escaped to the fictional worlds upon the pages you held dear. Why contend with real life when dreamy, passionate stories await you?

Perhaps if you put your books down, people would flock to you. Maybe they would show you the admiration you had only ever read or fantasized about. But deep down, you felt that was not true. Surely if you were attractive you would have people chasing after you. Yet, such things did not happen. Not in real life, anyway. So, the books stayed in your hand, your fingers flipping through page after page as the characters written upon them experienced pleasures and intimacy you were sure you would never know.

Then again, it was not like people had never shown interest in you. It just seemed the wrong people were attracted to you. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe your standards were too high. Yet, deep down, you knew you only longed for someone to hold you. Caress your back. Treat you like you were their world. Reading soothed the ache to throw yourself at any person who showed you affection. You longed for it, yes. But not enough to accept any person who walked into your life.

Fallen leaves crunched underfoot as you walked underneath the amber-colored trees, their leaves shaking gently in the soft fall breeze. Your headphones blasted music, eyes drifting down to the cracked sidewalk as you made the familiar walk to your favorite bookstore. The bell rang as you opened the glass door, the open sign’s neon lights glaring against the store’s glass front. The smell of candles hit you like a wave as you stepped inside—the spicy pumpkin aroma drifted lazily amongst the shelves of books.

As you walked past the front desk, you noticed a sloppily written sign.

Be back soon—leave money on the front desk. - Mr. Kilone

You sighed, fingers drifting over the sign. Mr. Kilone, the store owner, was an innocent old man with a passion for books. You had spent hours talking with him about all kinds of novels, often with a cup of hot cocoa warming your hands as you laughed with him. It bothered you how trusting he was. People took advantage of naivety, you knew. You had told him as much. He had brushed it off, saying no one would bother stealing his old books.

You took off your coat, setting it behind the desk. Your sweater was warm enough, what with all the candles burning—it was a fire hazard, you supposed. You laughed at the thought, your fingers dragging along the bookcases as you walked further into the store. 

You thoughtlessly picked up books, flipping through them and then setting them back in their place. After a few more minutes, you flipped to a random page in a book you had picked up, a couple of words catching your eye. Shuffling to the back of the store, book in hand, you sat down against one of the shelves. You flipped back a couple of pages to the beginning of the scene.

You held your breath as the scene continued. The words practically leaped off the page as your mind filled with images of the scene you were reading.

His fingers plunged into her, curling deliciously as he clicked his tongue mockingly, her moans echoing…

You bite at your nails, your stomach fluttering as you read.

He nipped at her neck, grunting as he moved back and forth at a brutal pace…

The door’s bell rang. Your head snapped up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you thought of Mr. Kilone returning to his store as you read such filthy words in the back of his shop. You snapped the book shut and hustled to the front of the store, holding the book behind your back as you desperately searched for the empty slot in the bookcase.

You stopped abruptly as you saw a man crouched in front of one of the bookcases, his hair falling in front of his face as he read the book spines intently. His dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing off his collarbones. You took in the formal pants and coat, the brown locks, and the sharp cheekbones. You could have sworn he stepped out of one of the books you had read.

He hears your muffled footsteps on the carpet and looks up, still crouched before the shelves. A soft smile crosses his face as he stares at you, eyes intensely meeting yours. He notices your flushed face.

“Something wrong?” He asks, standing up and brushing off his black pants. He seems to be staring into you, analyzing every little movement you make.

You shake your head, brow furrowing. “No, I- uh, nothing’s wrong. Just… didn’t expect anyone to come in here.”

“Well, it’s an open shop.”

You nod, blushing still. Swallowing nervously, you smile politely and begin to walk past him to put back the book you were holding. The shelves were placed so close together in the tiny store that you had to practically shuffle past, or else you would be forced up against the man. As you turned sideways to move past him, suddenly, your wrists were held in a tight grip.

“What-”

“Shh… what’s this book you’ve got here?” He nods toward the book in your hand.

You blush, your mouth falling open as you try to come up with words, vocal chords failing you. “I-”

“Don’t be so nervous… I know what you like to read, Y/N.” He coos, lips pressed against your ear as he pins you against the shelf.

“How… how do you know my name?” Your eyes are wide, heart pounding. Maybe you would be more frightened if his breath wasn’t hot against your neck and his scent wasn’t delightfully suffocating you.

“Oh… Y/N…” He scolds, face twisting into a smirk as he leans back to look at you. “You’ve been so easy to watch. You really should keep your blinds closed… especially when you live alone. So isolated… Tell me. Do you like being alone?”

You nod. You can essentially feel your heart pounding against your ribs, begging to be let free. The man grins and leans back in, lips against your ear.

“Don’t lie. I know the books you read in that little room of yours. How you smile and blush at words on a page. Don’t you wish that it was real?”

You begin to shake your head, wanting to deny it. He grabs your throat and shoves you further into the shelf. His grip is tight, but not unbearable. Your breath still comes easily, but his fingers press into you. He grits his teeth and looks you up and down through narrowed eyes.

“I said, don’t lie.”

“I-” Your words feel stuck in your throat.

“You what? It’s okay… you can say it.”

Silence.

“Say it.”

Eyes wide, you remain silent.

“You like reading filthy books, wishing it was real. You imagine those scenarios when you touch yourself. Say it.” He shakes you slightly, grinning cruelly as you yelp in surprise, face red.

“I- I read books because I wish it was real. And I- I imagine those scenarios when I… when I-” You stammer, stomach upset with a mixture of fear… and something you don’t care to admit. He knew too much about you… yet the thought of him watching you…

“You what? C’mon, Y/N…” He chastises.

“When I… touch myself.” You look down, mortified.

“There… that wasn’t so hard, was it? And don’t look so embarrassed, Y/N. I know far too much about you for you to be so red in the face.”

He leers, releasing your neck and leaning against the bookcase opposite you. You rub at your wrists, not knowing what to do or how to react. You think of all the nights you’ve stayed up late, reading, normally ending with your hand between your thighs. He seems to know you are realizing the implications of his admission, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

“Why- why have you been watching me? Who even are you?” You stand still, nearly frozen with fear. Yet, there it is… that burning in your stomach and between your legs, one that has never been satiated by your own fingers.

He laughs, glancing at your body.

“The name is Jackson Rippner. And I already know you’re Y/N L/N, the spoiled and precious little daughter of some fancy politician, yes?” And there it is, that sinking feeling of realization. It’s as if your body is going to sink into the floor. Your shoulders feel too heavy and your knees feel like they’re going to buckle.

“You realize now, don’t you?”

“So, why- what are you watching me for? What are you going to do?” Your bottom lip quivers and your voice shakes.

He laughs again, that same empty laugh. Like he’s trying to appear friendly.

“I suppose I should kill you. It’s what I was sent here to do, after all. Get your dear pops all worked up. But- you’ve intrigued me.”

Your brow quirks upward, heart pattering. “I’ve… intrigued you?” He nods slowly, leaning back in as he places his hands on either side of you.

“Indeed you have. You see… at first, I believed you were just some boring, spoiled brat. But the more I watched you… The more times I saw you dance around your house with those stupid headphones of yours… The more I saw you in bed, reading those books as you bit your lip and played with that perfect pussy…” He placed his index finger under your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his intense stare. “Oh, Y/N… you’ve made me very intrigued.”

He gently bites your earlobe, lips ghosting over your jaw and neck. One hand remains on your chin as the other trails down your side, resting at your waist before finding its way to your ass. He squeezes gently, causing a gasp to escape your open mouth. He chuckles against your neck.

“Oh, how I’ve wanted to be the one to make you make those pretty little noises…”

His lips trail down your neck before nipping at your collarbone. A breathless moan leaves you and he smirks against the base of your neck before pulling away. He scoffs at your state, your lips parted slightly and face red with arousal.

“Look at you… so needy and I’ve barely touched you. I would ask if you always get this worked up, but I know you do.” 

You don’t even realize you’re still holding onto the book you grabbed earlier until he reaches forward and pulls it away from you. He opens the book to the page you had held it at with your thumb. You stay frozen as he skims the page, eyes lighting up as he reads.

“Y/N… you get yourself so worked up reading such things, and then you never get satisfaction. I know your own fingers don’t make you cum… so. Why don’t you go out once in a while… have fun? Are you scared? Is that it?” Rippner teases, chuckling.

“I- yes.” You admit.

“You’ve started answering my questions… good girl.” This only makes your cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. He looks you up and down, not surprised by your reaction.

“You know… I’d like to help you with your little… issue.”

“You- you do?”

He steps closer, hand drifting underneath your shirt before cupping your breast, gently caressing it. A broken whimper leaves you, and he bites his lip playfully.

“Y/N… you’re too easy to excite.”

He leans in and finally places his lips against yours. His lips move hungrily, his hand on the back of your head, holding you close to his chest. You both stumble into the back of the store, hidden behind the rows of bookcases. Your back slams into one of the shelves and you yelp, mouth opening further, allowing Jackson’s tongue to slip into your mouth, tasting you.

You moan freely now, hands twisting into his hair and his hands frantically unbuttoning your jeans. His hand slipped into your pants, gently rubbing your clit over your underwear. You whine into his mouth.

“Shh, sh, sh. I can feel you dripping through your little panties…” He coos, biting your bottom lip.

The bell rings suddenly, and you hear Mr. Kilone’s familiar boots stamp against the carpet as he makes his way to his desk. You freeze, hands splayed against Jackson’s chest as your eyes widen with alarm.

“Stay quiet for me,” Jackson whispers in your ear as he maneuvers his fingers into your underwear, quickly slipping a finger into your wet center. You stifle a moan, face held against his shoulder. His finger fills you nicely as it pumps gently into you, curling against your walls.

He adds a second finger and you whine, a little too loud. He stops, placing his hand over your mouth, fingers still inside you. Mr. Kilone shuffles around near his desk and you both listen closely, anxious he’ll walk into the back of the store and see you in your compromising position. After a few seconds, Jackson begins to curl his two fingers into you again, keeping his one hand over your mouth.

Your hips rock against his fingers and he smirks. “There we go… good girl, fucking herself on my fingers.

Jackson sucks on your neck as his fingers move faster into you, plunging further than your fingers ever could. He hears your muffled moans increase in frequency. Your pussy flutters around his fingers and he grins, reveling in the feeling. You can only hope the wet sounds from the back of the store don’t draw Mr. Kilone’s attention.

Your stomach coils and your brow furrows—Jackson can tell that you’re close. So fucking close.

“Ah… you want me to let you cum? Hm? Is that it?” He mockingly whispers.

You nod, desperate for him to pull you over the edge, the feeling becoming too much to bear. He presses his lips to your ear, fingers moving even faster.

“Cum for me…”

Your body convulses delightfully as the pleasure overwhelms you. Your head is thrown back against the shelf as you moan against his hand, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm.

“Good girl… such a good girl for me.” He murmurs. He kisses you softly before pulling away to admire you as your chest rises and falls and your eyes look at him with satisfaction. He brings his fingers to his lips as he looks at you and gently licks his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste of you.

“So sweet... But next time, I want to taste you with my tongue…” He whispers as he kisses you again.

“Next time?” You question, brow raised as he buttons your jeans for you.

He looks you up and down, eyes oddly emotionless as he smirks. “I know where you live, just make sure to open up when I knock.” And with that, he turns and walks away, politely greeting Mr. Kilone as he leaves the store, the bell ringing.

Thank you so much for reading! So sorry if this was bad, it's literally my first time ever writing a fic. <3

˚ ⟢ .˚ 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 ˚. ⟢ ˚ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

[ oscar piastri x fem!reader ] - REQUESTED

┈⋆⭒ summary. after accidentally discovering one of your boyfriend's kink, you can't wait to try it out with him.

┈⋆⭒ word count. 2.3k

┈⋆⭒ tags. smut, pegging, slight fem!dom

⌇WARNINGS. none ‹𝟹

You hadn't meant to, really. You had forgotten to send an important email to your boss and were too lazy to get your laptop from downstairs; so you took your boyfriend, Oscar’s, laptop and opened it before typing the password in. It’s not like he had anything to hide or even that he didn't know that you sometimes used his computer: he was literally the one to share his password with you. But as your eyes widen at the video playing on the screen, you're beginning to feel guilty for peeking into Oscar's personal stuff. 

Before your eyes is a video of a couple, naked, on a bed. Now, you were not a prude, and with all the travelling he did, all the time spent away from you, it was not strange to learn that he might occasionally watch these kinds of videos but the fact that he was watching porn was not what shocked you about this. No, the man on the screen was on his knees, muffled moans and whimpers coming from where his head was hidden in the pillow. The woman was behind him, a blue dildo strapped to her hips buried deep inside the man’s ass as she stroked his cock. 

"Taking me so well honey, such a good boy for me." The woman’s voice is sultry as she praises the trembling man beneath her. She’s folded over his back kissing his shoulders as she jerks him off faster, never letting the movement of her hips falter. "I’m gonna come, mistress" The man whines and before he starts shooting ropes of white onto the bed, you close the laptop, your cheeks burning from embarrassment. Or was it desire? You weren't sure then and still weren’t sure once the strap-on you had ordered immediately after this discovery had arrived at your apartment. 

You hid the box inside your closet, your mind racing with dirty thoughts and a bit of doubt: what if he had been watching just out of curiosity? Even worse, what if he had watched it with disgust? What if he ended up being weirded out by how wet the idea of fucking him made you.

—

You'd almost forgotten about it until the winter break came. He had spent the first few days of his time off with his family in Melbourne and had planned to spend the rest of the break with you, in your shared flat. You loved seeing your boyfriend achieving his dreams and if you were honest, getting to visit multiple places around the world was not too bad either but lately, you really had embraced the calmer, more domestic lifestyle with the racing driver. You were currently seated on the couch across from Oscar, watching— or in your case pretending to watch— some boring Netflix show. You kept glancing at him, trying to find the courage to ask him about what had been plaguing your mind since all those months ago. 

"What's up?" He finally asks, realizing you weren't going to ask him about what was bothering you anytime soon.

Your eyes go wide; a deer caught in the headlights. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding and slowly turn your entire body to face him. 

"Okay, well. Please don't be mad." you start, he furrows his eyebrows, urging you to go on, "I- I saw what you were watching a few months ago, I didn't mean to!" You quickly add. The poor guy looks completely puzzled. "The porn." You say, feeling your cheeks growing hot. 

He seems even more confused, "Baby, what the hell are you talking about?" 

"The pegging!" You say, louder than you anticipated.

He swallows thickly and starts looking for his words as his entire face flushes a deep shade of red. 

"I– uh…"

"It's fine! It's okay, really, I don't mind– I mean it looked kinda hot." You say, sheepish. 

"Oh." He says, although still not meeting your eyes. 

An awkward silence follows, both of you looking for what to say. 

"I, uh–" You get up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom, "Come." 

You stop when you're in front of your closet and look back at him.

"I- I bought something, a while ago. After, well, you know. I think– I'd like to try it." You tell him, pulling the box from the depths of the closet and handing it to him.

His eyes widen slightly and he looks up at you before taking the box. He opens the lid and pulls the contents of the box out, his eyes growing even wider when he sees the dildo.

"Oh." he breathes.

"What do you think?" Your voice is slightly uneven, still afraid he's going to laugh and tell you it was all a stupid joke.

"Um–" He's beet red as he sits on the bed.

"We don't have to do anything, if you think it's weird, we can just... forget about it. I–" You start rambling. 

"I-I've never done that before, you know." He cuts you off, still not looking at you.

He's eyeing the toy and you realize he wants this as much as you do, perhaps even more, but you need him to say it.

"Me neither," you sit next to him on the bed, "do you want it?"

"Yes," he admits after a moment. 

That's all it takes for you to straddle him and press your lips against his. He responds immediately, opening his mouth for you to slip your tongue in. You moan as he places his hands over your ass and you start grinding over his already hardening bulge. You pull back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips.

"Strip." 

You're not used to ordering him around, especially not in bed, but the way he immediately obeys, once you get off his lap, scrambling to take his clothes off makes the blood in your veins feel electric. You look inside the box, pulling out the harness.

"Lie down."

Once again, he does as he's told, lying back against the mattress. You take your pants off and step inside the harness, adjusting the straps to fit you comfortably. You turn around, your breath catching in your throat at the sight: He's already panting, his chest is flushed and his hair is dishevelled. You follow his happy trail with your eyes until you reach his hard cock trapped between his fist, as he tries his hardest not to just start stroking it. The tip is glistening with precum and you can feel yourself dripping onto the inside of your thighs as you watch it leak along his length and into the light hair at the bottom of his shaft.

"Fuck." You groan before biting your lip. You take your shirt off and kneel on the bed, in front of him.

You kiss him softly, cupping his cheeks before running your hands down his sides and settling them on his thighs, parting them gently. You place a kiss on his nose, then his jaw and finally you start kissing and sucking at his neck. You lick his pulse point, enjoying the whimper you elicit from him.

"Please-" He breathes out.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want." You whisper in his ear, nipping at his earlobe.

"I- I want you to fuck me."

You smirk against his skin and kiss his shoulder.

"Yeah? I'm going to open you up first, make sure it feels good when I get my cock in you." You're not sure where this sudden confidence comes from but when Oscar's hips buck up involuntarily at your words, you can't really seem to care anymore; you just want to make him feel good.

You grab the lube from the bedside table and pour a generous amount on your fingers, warming it up slightly before reaching down to rub circles against his entrance. He shivers at the contact and you replace the hand he has around his dick with your other one. You look up into his eyes.

"If you want me to slow down, or even stop everything, tell me and I will." You tell him and he nods as the tip of his ears turn pinkish.

"Fuck." He swears as you sink your finger into his hole.

"Good boy." You praise, feeling him clench down around your index as you push past the ring of muscle, slowly easing your finger in and out of him, trying to get him to loosen up. "That feel good?"

He hums, "Yes, fuck, don't stop."

You get back to it and after a while, you enter a second finger, curling them immediately hitting his prostate. His mouth falls open and a loud moan fills the room.

"That's it, baby, let me hear how much you love it." You say as you keep grazing the same spot over and over and slowly twisting your fist around his length, making his eyes flutter as his back arches slightly from the bed. 

You keep stroking him rhythmically, squeezing your thighs together, trying to ease the pressure forming between your legs as the sounds of your slick fingers pushing into him and his moans, groans and whimpers fill the air. Suddenly his eyes widen and he grabs both of your wrists, halting your movement inside him and around his length. 

"Fuck, stop. I’m gonna come." 

You smirk, a spark of pride growing in your chest from getting him already so close to coming. 

He's looking at the silicone cock hanging heavily between your legs: arousal and nervousness painted on his face. You drip some lube onto your strap, stroking yourself slowly and giving him your best bedroom eyes. 

"Shh, relax my love, we'll go slow," you promise as you get closer between his thighs, "if at any point you want me to stop–"

"I'll tell you." He finishes for you. 

"Good boy." You whisper in his ear, making him choke out a whine as a light blush spreads across his chest and neck.

With that, you peck his lips gently and put your hands on his thighs, keeping him open for you. You watch his hole flutter in anticipation and pour more lube onto your cock before nudging the head against his rim. You look up at him and he's got his eyes squeezed shut and his head anchored to the pillow. You push in slowly and watch his face contort into a grimace.

"You're doing great." You reassure him and he nods his head slightly, his lips still sealed into a tight line. 

As you push another inch in, you grab his cock, stroking him softly and rubbing slowly the spot under the head, trying to appease your tense boyfriend. 

"You're being so good for me, baby." You tell him as he starts relaxing.

You're about halfway in and you can't believe how aroused you are, even though you can't actually feel any pleasure from the strap.

"How does it feel?" You ask him, slowly continuing your intrusion inside his hole.

"Feel so full." He whimpers.

"Yeah? You're taking me so well my love."

You lean over his body and press your lips against his. When your hips meet his ass, you stay there, allowing him to adjust.

"Fuck," he whispers after a moment, "you can move, please."

You kiss him again and slowly start pulling out of him before thrusting back in, slow and steady only picking up the pace when he starts moaning and gasping under you.

"So pretty like this. My pretty boy, letting me fuck his pretty little ass."

He throws his head back, his mouth wide open, a low groan rumbling through his chest. You lean back, lifting his thighs and changing the angle in which you're drilling into him. He can't help the yelp that comes out of his mouth as you hit his prostrate straight on.

"Fuck! Right there. Please don't stop."

"There? Does that feel good, baby?"

He can't answer you, his brain going fuzzy with pleasure.

"Tell me." you order, "Does. It. Feel. Good?" You emphasize your words with a few thrusts of the hips.

"Yes! Fuck. Please, more."

You smirk and speed up, the sound of your hips slapping against his thighs echoing throughout the room, accompanied by the gorgeous sounds coming out of his gaping mouth. He's writhing in pleasure and you lean into him, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses against his jaw and his neck. 

"I'm close." He moans.

"I know baby, you want to come on my cock?"

He's still blushing, his eyes screwed shut and his fists tangled in the sheets, his knuckles white from the strength with which he's holding them. You wrap your fist around his length, making him look up at you and fuck, you wish you could take a picture: His hair is plastered on his forehead, his eyes are dark, his pupils blown and his lips are parted, a thin layer of sweat coating his entire body.

"You're so gorgeous, Oscar."

He closes his eyes once more and you kiss him hard, intertwining your fingers with his, holding his hand beside his head on the pillow, not slowing down your hand on his cock as you put every effort into your final thrusts, feeling his cock jump inside your fist, his orgasm quickly approaching. 

"I'm going to come, baby," he whines

"Go on, come for me." 

And just like that, his body goes rigid as he releases his load into your fist and all over his stomach. You stroke him through his orgasm until his entire body is jerking underneath you because of the sensitivity. You stay there for a few minutes, both breathing heavily, regaining your composure. 

You finally, carefully pull out of him, making him wince a bit before unlatching the harness from your hips and lying beside him.

"Was it okay?" You ask him, your initial doubt showing up again. 

He looks at you, an exhausted but blissful expression painted on his face, "It was better than okay, thank you." He says before pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. 

"Good," you mumble into his chest, "'cause we're definitely doing this again."

"I can't wait."

I’m not even done with the second season of shadow and bone but holy fuck do I love it.

This was so cute !!!

The Soldier and His Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

You should’ve known something was wrong the moment Bucky went still.

One second, the mission was wrapping up—just another Hydra facility wiped off the map, just another set of goons taken down. The next, something triggered him. A phrase muttered in Russian over a radio, the faintest crackle of a long-dead handler’s voice. You saw the shift in his posture before he even turned around, the telltale tightening of his jaw, the blankness overtaking those usually warm blue eyes.

Bucky Barnes was gone.

The Winter Soldier stood in his place.

And yet—he didn’t hurt you.

Not when he turned to face the team, his body language bristling with danger. Not when Steve hesitated before stepping forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And certainly not when you cautiously called his name, your voice softer than the others.

Instead, the Soldier moved between you and everyone else.

A shield.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Back at the Tower, you thought the episode would pass. That maybe, after a few hours, after enough familiar sights and sounds, Bucky would shake it off like he always did.

But the Soldier wasn’t leaving. And he had decided you were his mission.

Not to eliminate.

To protect.

At first, it was just hovering. You moved—he followed. You sat—he stood at your back, ever watchful. The others gave him space, exchanging worried glances when they thought you weren’t looking. Steve was tense, obviously trying to figure out how to break through, while Tony was less patient about it.

“This is a problem,” Stark declared after the first few hours, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “I mean, I hate to be the one to say it, but we have a fully armed, brainwashed assassin in the Tower again, and we all know how that went last time.”

“He’s not attacking anyone,” Natasha pointed out.

“Yet,” Tony shot back.

You ignored the argument as best you could, focusing instead on cooking something for Bucky—something normal, something familiar, something that might ground him. His eyes tracked you the entire time.

Then you miscalculated the heat on the stove.

The oil in the pan hissed and spat, and a second later, you hissed too as a sharp sting bloomed across your palm. You barely had time to react before there was a sudden blur of motion.

Bucky was on you instantly.

His flesh hand gripped your wrist, his metal one hovering protectively over the stove, as if it had personally attacked you. His face was unreadable, but his grip was firm, his hold gentle as he examined the burn.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, but he wasn’t listening.

Instead, he took the cold pack you hadn’t even reached for yet and pressed it carefully to your palm, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in focus. You exchanged a look with Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, and the Captain exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes.

He was still in there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Soldier continued shadowing you for the next two days, much to Tony’s frustration. But as Natasha had pointed out—he wasn’t hurting anyone.

Unless they posed a threat to you.

That was something Steve learned firsthand during a sparring session. You had barely landed a hit before Bucky, watching from the sidelines, had moved. The next thing you knew, Steve was on his ass, blinking up at the ceiling, while Bucky stood between you like a human wall, eyes cold and calculating.

“For the record,” Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his ribs, “I was letting her win.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It wasn’t until you needed a medical checkup that things really came to a head.

“Barnes, I have to actually examine her,” Dr. Cho said patiently, eyeing where Bucky stood between you and the med bay’s equipment.

“No,” he replied flatly.

“Bucky—” you tried.

“The room is secure.”

“That’s not the—”

“She does not require assistance.”

“I do require assistance,” you corrected. “Because I burned my hand and twisted my shoulder thanks to a certain super soldier overreacting in the gym.”

Bucky didn’t move.

You exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” you said, shifting tactics. “Then stay.”

That got his attention.

“If you want to make sure nothing happens to me,” you reasoned, “then you can stay here. But you have to let the doctor check me out.”

His expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity—

“…Understood.”

Progress.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When it finally broke, it wasn’t dramatic.

There was no grand trigger, no huge revelation.

Just a moment of quiet.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning after two days of Bucky’s overprotective hovering. When you woke up, it was to warm hands gently brushing over your wrist—both flesh and metal, but softer this time, as if relearning the feeling of touching you.

And then you heard it—his breath hitching.

A tiny, barely-there sound, but one filled with something raw.

You blinked sleepily, looking up.

Bucky was staring at you. Not the Soldier. Bucky.

His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes wide—his real eyes.

“…Doll?” His voice cracked over the word, like it had been caught in his throat.

You smiled sleepily, shifting so your fingers curled around his. “Hey, Buck.”

His exhale was shaky. His shoulders sagged. And when you tugged him down to you, he didn’t resist.

He just buried his face in your neck and held on.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You scared the hell out of me, you know,” you murmured later, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he rested against you.

“I know,” he admitted, voice rough.

“You threw Steve like a ragdoll.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

A laugh. Quiet, but real.

And just like that, Bucky Barnes was back.

i hate u [abby anderson]

pairing; abby x afab!reader

word count; 3.8k how tf did that happen

cw; language, mentions of death, angst (like, so much angst), enemies to lovers, eventual smut

summary; abby has always had it out for you. the feeling was mutual.

until it wasn't.

an; hiiii, it's me, providing you with the abby content i'm devoid of. i love this buff lesbian woman so fucking much.

alsooooo, this got wayyyy longer than i thought so there will be a pt. 2, and pt. 2 will contain a filthy, ridiculous, unholy amount of smut, so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I'LL CRY (and as always read it on AO3 here <3)

there were much more productive ways you could be spending your time. you could be, i don’t know—literally doing anything else other than being forced to clean these goddamned bathrooms. 

it’s not that you didn’t mind cleaning, no. in fact, under ideal circumstances, cleaning could actually be fun for you. there was just a big problem with who it forced you into a room with this time. with her stupid long french braid, and her absurdly large muscles—like seriously, what the fuck was she showing off for? we’re killing scars, not for training for the fucking rapture.

“you know, if you move the mop in a back-and-forth motion, it would actually clean the floors.” 

to put it quite plainly, abby doesn’t like you. you said left, she had to say right; you say go, she had to say stop—the mutual loathing was just routine at this point, it came almost as natural as breathing. surely it didn’t help that the two of you were typically sent on assignments that involved being together for far too many hours at a time. rarely was it made only slightly better by the presence of someone else, another body to diffuse even an ounce of the tension that hung between the two of you like a rope. 

you scoffed at her juvenile insolence, though you started mopping again nonetheless. “trust me, i don’t want to be here any longer than i have to. i have shit to do,” you jeered, making it a point to look down at the ground, watching the soapy water spread across the tile. not at the way her muscles—have you mentioned they’re absurdly large?—flexed as she wiped down the counter with bleach. 

“oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t realize i was keeping you from something!” abby exclaimed, feigning ignorance. “by all means, you run off and do whatever it is you have to do, and i’ll just finish this little punishment all by myself.” 

you had to bite back a bitter laugh, instead choosing to shake your head at the ground, your mopping becoming just a little bit more aggressive with each stroke. you chose to ignore it. you almost had her completely tuned out of your mind, until you didn’t.

“it’s not like i was the one who just let that scar go.” that stopped you dead in your tracks. 

abby has said a lot of things to you. a lot of untrue things. a lot of hurtful things, even. and again, it was entirely possible you could have even ignored that. but then you looked up—and you saw her stupid, imprudent fucking smirk, and it was over. “you know what abby?” you started, throwing your mop. you didn’t even have the energy to smile at the way she flinched when the wooden handle hit the ground with a loud bang. she played it off quickly, though, raising an eyebrow and leaning back against the counter. you didn’t expect the sudden lump in your throat. 

“fuck you.” 

the words didn’t come out exactly like you’d hoped. maybe there was a slight hesitation, the faintest crack between the syllables, a single tear threatening to spill down your cheek—but you meant it, wholeheartedly. 

fuck abigail anderson.

you couldn't bother to give her even a second thought as you turned on your heel, ignoring her calls of your name from behind you. perhaps a bit childish, but you slammed the door extra hard on your way out. 

let that scar go? is she fucking for real? 

you were so tired of having to prove your place here to her. isaac sent you both on the same assignments, he trusts you just as much as her to do his most important jobs, but it never seems to be good enough. whether it was jealousy or stubbornness, you could never be quite sure. 

time and time again you’ve tried to make nice with abby; you had actually wanted to be friends with her—the jaunty girl who never seemed to let her past slow her down, taking every opportunity to crack a sarcastic joke and practically jumping in front of bullets for the people she loved—you’d tried to spark friendly conversation, volunteered to take some of her extra assignments, even offered her a book you’d overheard her mentioning she wanted to read that you just happened to have on your bookshelf, but it was all futile. she wanted nothing to do with you, like your presence alone was a personal inconvenience. so, naturally, you stopped trying—yet, the two of you almost always somehow ended up in the same room together, whether it was a drunken night in leah and nora’s room, or cleaning bathrooms as a stupid punishment. 

but one, one little slip up and that’s all it took. you took your eyes off that scar for a split fucking second, and now she’ll never let you live it down. you were furious, angry tears clouding your vision as you stormed away, down the hallway and practically sprinting up the stairs to your room. 

she can clean that bathroom all by herself, you thought as you fumbled to get your keys out of your pocket, dropping them on the ground in your haste. “fuck!” you exclaimed, bending down to pick them up, searching for the small silver key on the ring. 

“there you are,” a sudden voice from behind startles you enough that you flinch, dropping your keys again. of fucking course. 

“go away abby,” you practically snarl, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks with your palm before she could see. despite your weak protest, you could hear her heavy footsteps getting closer as you finally unlocked the door, pushing it open and slipping inside. 

“oh, come on,” abby was right on your heels, pressing a hand against the door and preventing it from fully closing behind you. your eyes felt like they might roll into the back of your head. 

“i’m sorry, what part of ‘go away’ was unclear to you?” you snapped, turning around to glower at her through the small crack in the doorway. her arm strength was incredible, she was barely leaning against the door as you pushed with an embarrassing amount of effort to try and close it on her. what you lacked in brawn, you pride yourself in making up for with brains—yet another reason it was already embarrassing enough that you fucked up, now she was practically rubbing it in your face. 

abby’s eyes held a look you couldn’t quite understand. no way she was apologetic, but her face held a certain softness to it you’d never quite seen before. usually her face was all rigid lines and sharp angles, clenched jaw and guarded eyes, especially with you. it was rare for her to smile around you, now that you thought about it.

“can we talk?” abby asked, and her voice was almost…pitiable. her eyes were low and her pink lips parted slightly. it was unnerving. she never asked you for anything, let alone to talk. your eyes flickered across her face, trying to make sense of what she was really trying to say, beneath the surface. 

but there was really nothing to say to that. no, you wanted to scream, no we can’t fucking talk, fuck you, and i never want to talk to you again. but you said nothing, instead shaking your head and turning away, letting the door swing open against the pressure of her hand. 

“why do you hate me so much?” your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, arms crossing defensively over your chest, though you were no longer facing her. 

“why do i hate you?” she scoffed, and you heard the door closing softly. 

“yes, why?” you spun around to face her now—she still stood near the door, that same indecipherable expression painted on her face. you avoided her eyes, but noted the way her nose twitched ever so slightly. “ever since i stepped foot in this stadium you’ve had it out for me, and no matter how hard i try, i can’t understand why,” oh fuck, the anger was coming back up, rising in your throat like bile, “is it because i don’t put up with your shit anymore?” 

“no,” abby gritted out, taking a step toward you. “listen, i—”

“because i see right through your little act?” you cut her off and wow, she was fuming now, chest rising and falling heavily as she clenched her fists together. “stop it, i’m trying to—” 

but you couldn’t stop, even if you didn’t mean it, “‘ooh poor me, my dad died and now i’m stronger because of it, and everybody loves me,’” the words stung in your mouth, and in your eyes, “‘i’m isaac’s top scar killer but i have a heart of gold,’” tears falling as you stomped toward her, “well good for fucking you abby. i’ve lost a lot of people too but you don’t see me acting like i’m better than everyone.” 

you couldn’t help it, you were pushing her before you knew it, right in the chest with as much strength as you could muster, and she wasn’t expecting it because she stumbled backwards into your bookshelf, a picture frame falling and shattering on the ground before she caught her footing. 

you looked her right in the eyes for the first time since she had entered your room, uninvited, and all you saw was flames, burning through her blue irises like wildfire. you stepped back, wide-eyed and disoriented, her figure nothing more than a blurry silhouette in front of you. her heavy breathing was all that you could hear, it consumed you, made you dizzy as you staggered backwards, that ineffable sadness reaching into your chest and squeezing around your heart, fuck, how does she do this to you? 

“for fucks sake, would you just listen?” abby’s asked suddenly. her voice was rough around the edges, chipped away by your words—you couldn’t look at her, it was too much, a sob escaping your throat before you could stop it. why did you say that to her? she was reaching toward you before you could say another word, you half expected her to hit you, to strangle you, to say fuck you and never speak to you again, but then her calloused fingers were gripping your forearm. 

“abby,” your voice was pathetic, broken and whiny, god, you were completely out of control. you let your arm go limp, watching as her hand practically burned an impression into your skin as she pulled you into her chest. you were overwhelmed by her scent, that fucking pine soap she always hoarded and faintest hint of bleach that burned your nose, reminding you of what started this in the first place. 

no, this couldn’t be real life, there was no way you were crying in front of abby, your biggest vulnerabilities tumbling from your lips like an avalanche, but her arms were there, wrapping around your shoulders like a blanket as her head fell into the crook of your neck. you couldn’t tell whose heart was beating faster, her pulse pounding against your ear as your arms hung limp by your side. your brain was absolutely spinning trying to figure out what to make of this, a few loose strands of her braid hair tickling the side of your cheek as you shifted your head.

“i’m sorry,” her strained voice bled down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine, her breath hot against your shoulder as she tightened her grip. instinctively, you wrapped your arms around her waist, giving in to her touch, her apology washing over you like a humid rain in the summer—you’d waited so long just to hear those two little words, but it felt wrong somehow. “i’m sorry,” she repeated, quieter now, though you were probably the one who should be saying that.

“abby,” you found yourself saying again, squeezing your eyes shut as you leaned into her, feeling the tightness of her back muscles flex as you flattened your hands against her back, oh god, what the fuck is happening right now? “i didn’t mean that,” you whispered, muffled slightly against her shirt. the words i’m sorry usually came easy to you, often apologizing for things that didn’t warrant one in the first place, but the words were harder to get out somehow in this moment, pressed against the fabric of her shirt. 

her grip on you loosened, her arms sliding down your back and she was gone in an instant, turning away, clasping her fingers together and bringing them to the back of her neck. 

“i don’t hate you,” but she couldn’t face you, dropping her arms to her hips as she looked at the ground. you watched the anxious tapping of her foot and it felt like you couldn’t breathe—isn't this what you wanted? to be friends, or at the very least, for her to not hate you? maybe then, but not now. “i’m intimidated.” she was quiet, turning to face you. the orange glow of the lamp cascaded over her face, painting her in the softest form you’d ever seen her in.

“intimidated?” you were taken aback, furrowing your brow. “by me?” you shook your head, incredulous at her sudden confession. what could she possibly be intimidated by? “abby, you’re-” you gestured at her, unsure of what to say. “-you could probably snap me in half if you wanted to, i-i don’t understand-”

“oh trust me, i know,” abby cut you off, scoffing, and fuck, she just couldn’t help herself could she? you were mortified she’d caught you in a moment of weakness, you were angry, you were so fucking confused. your pity quickly soured, tears dried up in an instant, the disdain seeping back into your skin like a parasite—no matter how many times the two of you got close to reconciling, it always went wrong somehow. it had felt different this time, but maybe you were wrong. 

“abby, i swear to god i-”

“okay, okay, i’m sorry,” she softened again, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “old habits die hard, am i right?” 

you squinted at her, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “does this really seem like the time to be making a fucking joke? because the door is right there,” you made a show of pointing at the door before turning to sit on the chair behind you, bending over to take off your boots. anything to avoid looking her in the eye. 

“fuck, i’m sorry, i don’t know how to talk to you about this,” she was walking towards you now, and you didn’t bother to look up. she sat opposite you in the mismatched chair, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. you looked up at her through wet lashes as you pulled your boots off, tossing them haphazardly to the side. she looked just as confused as you felt, brows furrowed in frustration—nothing about this felt normal, or okay. 

“what i’m trying to say is that i’m sorry,” she started, dropping her head to look at the ground. 

“you said that already,” you noted dryly, scooting back in the chair and pulling your knees to your chest protectively. she laughed, but it didn’t sound bitter. 

“i’m sorry, for everything,” abby looked at you now, and your breath hitched. “for how i’ve acted around you. for the way i’ve treated you, the things i’ve said. all of it,” her eyes were full of sorrow, and it made her look a way you’d never seen before—vulnerable, fragile, empty. “right after you moved onto the base, leah told me about what you’ve been through, losing your parents and your brother, being forced into that military school, and still fighting to get here all the way from boston. if i’m being honest, i was jealous that you could take it all in stride.”

you could do nothing but stare at her, wide-eyed and dumbstruck. 

“from the minute you got here, you were so calm and collected, ready to help anyone who needed it. you were constantly volunteering for extra assignments, helping out in the classrooms, doing all the work that no one else wanted to do with a smile on your face…i know we all have a past but i never could’ve guessed yours,” she let her head fall again, clasping her hands together and taking a deep breath, “and god, you’re so fucking smart, like there’s no way you learned all the shit you know about history at that dumb military school.”

your mouth fell open slightly, trying to process her words. first, an apology, and then a compliment? no smart-ass comments, no snarky look, no just kidding. you’d never even talked with her about your love of history that much, let alone your family.

“abby,” you started, pulling your knees tighter to your chest. your brain and your mouth were fighting over what to say, the years of dissention between the two of you threatening to surface—but she seemed genuine. bouncing her leg up and down, abby continued to avoid your gaze as she picked at her cuticles. 

“when i first got here, i was a mess.” she cut you off.  “i could barely eat or sleep, i hid in my room whenever i wasn’t out on an assignment, and i didn’t care about anyone or anything. it took me months to get past it all and then you came along, so open and easygoing, even after everything you’ve been through…i was embarrassed.”

“everybody handles grief differently,” you said quietly, putting your feet back on the ground. she looked up at you, and her cheeks were wet. you swallowed thickly. “i wasn’t always that happy behind closed doors.”

abby frowned slightly. she was quiet now, pensive as she held your gaze. your cheeks burned under the scrutiny, and you wanted to shrink into the chair. less than an hour ago you had all the intention in the world of never speaking to abby again, and now she was sat, taking up space in your room, and your mind, fuck, how was she always on your mind?

“that still doesn’t explain why you were so mean to me,” you broke the silence after taking another second to process her words, and tears were clouding your vision again.

“yeah, if i’m still being honest, i don’t really have an explanation for that either. or, not a good one, at least,” she at least had the decency to look sheepish, leaning back and scratching her neck lightly. “i guess because i was so intimidated by the way you handled yourself, i just defaulted to…jealous rage?” she sounded unsure, and you scoffed. 

“wow,” you said. “you’re right, that is a terrible explanation,” you shook your head, leaning back to match her pose. she laughed again, looking up to the ceiling, and it sounded foreign. 

“i’m not the best with words,” she smiled weakly, a blush creeping up her neck.

“trust me, i could tell by all your elementary insults.”

“hey, didn’t i just say i was sorry?” 

you smiled back at her now, against your better judgment. the two of you had spent the past three years practically at each other’s throats, and a simple i’m sorry i was mean to you because i don’t know how to handle my emotions was supposed to fix it all?

“i meant it though,” abby said softly now, eyes boring into yours. “i’m sorry. for everything.” 

you held her gaze a moment longer, but had to look away. you had to, before she could see that you were caving, that all you’ve ever wanted to hear was that—that you wanted to just talk to her without always being on guard, that you wanted to know her favorite music and what she really thought about all of manny’s sexcapades and if she ever took her hair down from that goddamn french braid and— “you don’t have to forgive me. not right now, anyways. i just hope that one day you can.”

and then she was standing up, your eyes followed up her torso as she stood, smoothing her shirt down before giving you another weak smile and heading for the door. oh god, fuck, fuck all of this, “abby, wait,” you were up and after her in a heartbeat, grabbing her forearm just as she had yours earlier, forcing her to turn around. she looked surprisedly, first at your face, then down at your grip on her forearm, which you quickly dropped when you felt your heart skipping a beat. her eyes were wild, tired and full of anguish. 

before you could talk yourself out of it, you were practically throwing yourself at her, arms wrapping around her torso as you pressed your cheek into her chest. she stumbled only briefly, before you felt her arms envelope your shoulders once more. this time, it didn’t feel wrong. 

it felt like coming home. 

“i really shouldn’t have said that thing about your dad,” you said, but it was muffled in her shirt. 

you felt her laugh rumble in her chest before she squeezed you tighter, her head lowering into your neck so that you felt her lips on your shoulder as she spoke. “yeah, that was pretty fucked up.” 

you smiled into her, and god, this was all fucked up. the world was fucked up, and out of it was born you and abby—two fucked up people making fucked up choices that lead to some pretty fucked up consequences. 

she pulled back from you, but kept her hands on your shoulders. you took a fistful of her shirt, looking down to avoid her eyes. your stomach was flipping, the heat radiating from her body overwhelming you and making you feel dizzy. “can you forgive me?” 

and yeah, that was maybe your fucked up, roundabout way of telling abby, i do forgive you, but she seemed to understand. when you dared to look back up, she dropped a hand, and the other came to softly caress your cheek. she looked at you tenderly, the rough pad of her thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t even noticed. 

“of course i can.”

and then there was only the sound of your heart thrumming in your ears, her quickened breath as she looked at you in a way you’d never seen before. you gripped her shirt tighter, lips parting slightly as you felt the weight of her hand against your cheek. you leaned into it, eyes slipping closed for a moment. 

“abby,” you whispered, your free hand coming up to hold hers in place against your cheek. 

“shh,” she shushed you softly, and you could sense her getting closer. you didn’t dare open your eyes, heat pooling in your stomach as you felt her breath fanning across your face. 

“don’t speak.”

her lips pressed against yours so softly that for a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming.

 Cherry Bomb | Billy Hargrove x reader

The reader gives Billy a run for his money

Aka you’re loud and tough and have a cool car and for Billy that means love at first sight. I might have written him too sweet here but idc, this was supposed to just be a short little thing and then it took on a life of its own and here we are. Sorta follows the start of season 2 but then does its own thing lol

Masterlist

Requests are open!

(Will do a part 2 soon bc I like this reader lol)

Warnings: mentions of abuse, drinking, f slur/homophobia (thanks neil)

Tags: @smenny @infinitelyforgotten

Billy Hargrove hated this fucking town.

He hadn’t even been at the new house for a full week yet, and he hated it and everything around it. Hawkins was a little shithole, as far as he was concerned, full of hicks who couldn’t tell their left asscheek from their right. And the worst part? It was October, and it didn’t even look cool outside.

God, he wanted to go back to California. At least it was sunny there. At least he had the beach. This place was just gloomy and beige, the townspeople all boring and normal. Nice, conservative families, who dressed in nice, conservative clothes, and drove nice, conservative cars.

That really wasn’t Billy’s scene.

At all.

Keep reading

A PROFESSIONAL INTERVIEW -- sebastian vettel

part 4/5, previous l l next (coming soon!)

pairings! redbull!sebastian vettel x fem!journalist!reader

In which, Sebastian Vettel has always been a cocky, and an annoying f1 driver to interview, but suddenly his tendencies seem more flirtatious than annoying.

note: hopefully this isn't too bad, trying to do character developement! i really enjoyed writing this chapter, even if it was a bit rushed!

taglist! @viennakarma, @chiliwhore, @i-wish-this-was-me, @gcldtom, @sugyomama, @bladestark, @queenofmanydreams, @bb-swift, @leclerking, @fanboyluvr, @killjoynotes

You let out a loud scream the second you woke up and took in your surroundings. 

You had a good night's sleep, opening your eyes, surprised by the lack of a hangover. An arm wrapped around your waist, face buried in the man's chest. He was warm, perhaps a Mongasque from the club. You turned around, and could not contain your scream of horror, surely waking up all surrounding people in the hotel.

What the hell was Sebastian Vettel doing in your bed

And what the hell was he doing naked!

He covered his ears with his hand, and rolled over, once you finally came to clarity and covered your mouth with your hand. Seb turned back over, about to say something before noticing you sitting up against the wall, tits out, and Seb's face dropping in shock. Seb exclaimed something in German that you could only assume was an obscenity as you tumbled out of the bed, fully naked and filled with anger. You pulled on your underwear first, suddenly mad that it was a thong, but you were trying not to panic.

“You better be turned around!” You exclaimed over your shoulder, pulling on your bra. Seb turned back, his face pressed against the pillow.

“I obviously saw you naked last night!” He called out. He looked out of the corner of his eyes as you rummaged through the drawer, trying to find something that could fit you and wouldn’t exactly look like it belonged to Seb. “Can I look back now?” “Whatever, you’re right, it doesn’t matter.” You said, you held up a pair of grey sweatpants. “I’m going to take them.” “Those are my favorite sweatpants.” Seb said.

“I don’t care!” You said, pulling them up, and cinching the waist in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Seb asked, he seemed slightly frustrated at you. You had assumed his flirting would result in nothing, that was not nothing. Sure, you imagined he didn’t want it to end like a drunk hook up. A few memories returned to you, his confession, your instigation. You had instigated it, why had you instigated it? 

“Maybe if you had your pants on.” You said, tossing a pair of plaid boxers to Seb, he pulled them on, throwing off his sheets and walking closer to you. You moved out of the way, still searching for a top, not planning on leaving in a push up bra. Seb pulled on another pair of sweats. You picked up a hoodie off the floor, it was a plain gray color, matching the sweats, you pulled it on. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You asked, not wanting to talk about it at all.

“You know, we hooked up.” “Yeah.” “What are we gonna do about it?” “I’m on the pill.” “But what about how we interact, does this change anything, should it change anything?” Seb said, leaning on the counter. “It doesn’t have to change anything. We were crazy drunk. There’s an explanation.” You said, looking over at the door, considering making a run for it, quitting your job, and moving in with your parents, or Y/B/F, if you could pay enough rent she’d let you stay.

“I meant what I said, I remember that, at least.” Seb told you, making eye contact with you. You squirmed away from his gaze. “I would like to be more than just-”

“Seb, I can’t do this right now.” You interrupted him, holding up your hand as if to push him away with some sort of telepathic ability. “I’m going to chase Jenson down, get my key, and I’ll see you in Silverstone.” You smiled awkwardly, trying to give him some sort of sense of peace from your words. Seb frowned, giving you a response you didn't expect.

“You’re skipping three races?” “Yeah.” “I won’t see you for a month.” “I always go on breaks during the season. Usually around this time because it makes me feel like I just have some massive summer break. They don’t need me, so I’m not going.” You said with a shrug. Seb mumbled something you couldn’t hear. He looked down at the ground as you said your goodbyes, you felt bad. You wanted to give him a hug, wish him luck on the championship, have a nice time with him in Monaco, but no, you left.

You weren’t quite sure what you did at your parents house. You spent a lot of time thinking too much about your decisions, acknowledged the fact that you had little to no life outside of formula one, and had a good time with your family. You felt somewhat numb, just mulling over your thoughts and rejecting guys in the grocery store. You didn’t even know why you rejected them. You supposed that covered your break.

But now it was time to get back to formula one, and face your suppressed thoughts and actions from the country of luxury, Monaco. You had attempted to keep Seb out of your mind, but he managed to sneak in during late nights and cold mornings. You wish you remembered everything from that night, but you didn’t, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You could hook up with him again, your brain offered, and you let out an annoyed groan, slamming your hands over your face. The mother daughter pair next to you gave you a side eye, but you didn’t care. You pulled on an eye mask, just wanting to sleep.

You woke up in London, the plane landing with a slight jolt. You checked how you looked in a pocket mirror, mascara smeared, bronzer splotchy. You wiped it all off in the airport bathroom, before going out to collect your luggage. You were thankful for the bright colors as you made your way to the parking garage, planning on taking a taxi that usually crowded the garage for people without cars.

“Y/N, over here!” Shouted a voice, you turned around, brows furrowed as Lewis Hamilton waved over to you, jogging over.

“Do you know the work I had to do to get here?” He said, sighing slightly. “To find out about when your flight was landing.”

You hugged him briefly. “You could’ve texted me.”

“You didn’t text back.”

“Did you text me when I was in the air?”

“Probably.” Lewis replied with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m here to take you to the hotel. Figured I’d show up all your other driver servants.”

“You didn’t have to.” You told Lewis, smiling as he rolled your suitcase to the garage, you in tow.

“I kind of did, and you still have to drive.”

“Oh no, I have to drive a beautiful car, whatever will I do.” You said, you pressed your hands over your face to resemble comedic fear. 

“Don’t break any traffic rules.” Lewis told you, chucking your suitcase in the back with no mind for fragilities. “Also, we need to talk.”

You pulled out of the garage. It was a luxury one, and so easy to exit and make your way into the highway, unlike most airport garages.

“What do we need to talk about?” You asked. “Your terrible haircut.”

You didn’t think baldmilton was a look, but Lewis looked serious. “I know about you and Seb in Monaco.”

You froze, turning toward him slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh my god, it's true! I mean the photo looked incriminating, and then the other one of the two of you the day after.” Lewis said slowly, in shock. He examined your expression, certain it reflected your thoughts clearly. “Holy shut, you hooked up with Seb!”

“What photo?” You asked. “Lewis, was there a photo of me going into his hotel room?”

“You didn’t know about it?” Lewis asked. “Have you been under a rock these past weeks?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “Where is Seb staying? We’re going there.”

You pounded against the door of Seb’s airbnb, shouting into the wood for Seb to open the door. Lewis placed one hand high on the doorway, ready for Seb to open the door.

“I’m coming, Ficken!” Seb shouts, you heard him jogging to the door, and tried to decide what expression to put on your face. Seb swung open the door, seeing Lewis before you. “Hey, Lewis.”

“Good afternoon.” Lewis said with a smile.

“Hey, Seb,” You said, interrupting their friendship. He looked over at you, a smile appearing on his face before he switched it to a “cool guy” look. “Um, we need to talk.” “You were serious when you said you’d tak in the UK?” Seb asked, placing his hands on his waist.

“Yeah, I was, but we also need to talk about the photo.” You said, pursing your lips together. Seb nodded, gesturing for the two of you to come inside.

“Are you sure you guys want me here?” Lewis asked, crossing his arms. “Yes.” You and Seb replied at the same time. You sat down on the small kitchen table, Seb taking the seat across from you, and Lewis taking the comfortable loveseat in the corner.

“So, what about it do you want to discuss? We can’t take it down, everyone’s seen it, and we did exactly what they’re saying.” Seb told you.

“Well I don’t want to get fired.” You said, you hated that Seb was right. You couldn’t do anything to make it better. “You aren’t going to get fired.” Lewis reassured you.

“You really aren’t, I checked with your boss.” Seb added on.

“Seb! You told my boss we hooked up!” You exclaimed, wanting to slam your head against the table.

“No, I didn’t! I told her you slept in the guest bedroom.” Seb shouted in defense. You let out a sigh of relief.

“So now you just deny deny deny to the other journalists.” You said, and Seb nodded. 

“Or we could just say we’re dating.” Seb offered, and you frowned.

“I don’t want to lie about things like that, Seb.” You admitted. Call yourself a romantic, but you only had a few relationships, and you didn’t want to lie about one, especially not when feelings were starting to sneak in for the person who offered it.

“Okay,” Seb replied. The three of you sat in silence for a bit, before Lewis finally spoke,

“Y/N, what interviews are you doing this week?”

“Mark, Seb you got left out, Alonso, and your best friend, Nico!” You told Lewis, counting off the names on your hands. “Also Micheal, which I’m super excited for.” “Have you met Nico and Micheal before?” Seb asked, playing with a napkin on the table between his fingers. You felt the sudden urge to take his hands in yours, but suppressed it.

“Yeah, I’ve interviewed them both a few times, and last year Nico and I sat next to each other on a flight from Japan to Monaco because first class had no seats.” “I feel like you and Nico would get along.” Seb commented, you raised an eyebrow. “Why?” You asked. Sure, you and Nico had gotten along fine during the flight, but you weren’t sure what they were talking about and Seb appeared to ont want to explain it to you, but Lewis jumped in.

“You two are drama queens, and I’m allowed to say this because Nico is my best friend and I think you and I are close enough for me to say that.” “I’m not dramatic!”

“You screamed when you realized we had hooked up, actually screamed.” “You don’t need to remember that, and Lewis doesn’t need to know it.” You told Seb. You picked up your bag, and turned to Lewis. “I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You bid him a small smile, waving to Seb, and grabbing your bag as Lewis trailed behind you.

Silverstone would turn out to be boring, Mark won, and the Mercedes boys were nice. You would be kind to Seb in Germany, as it was his home race, and in Hungary you would frown, and try to avoid attention. You suppose you would have had a better time if it hadn’t been for the lasting effects of the stupid photo. You hadn’t been fired, which you were endlessly grateful for, but the gripes and comments were enough to ruin whole weekends. Your dear friend Y/B/F obviously noticed this over calls, and so all the sudden you were invited to a villa in Ibiza.

How she made this happen? You had no idea. How the two of you didn’t have to pay a cent? Again, a wonder. She made magic happen, and you loved it. You were glad you didn’t have any summer plans, and had packed various bikinis and adorable summer outfits in case some sort of miracle happened.

Now you were landing in Ibiza, ready to party it up, swim in the ocean, and get drunk off your mind. In any order.

Seb didn’t know why he had decided on Ibiza. Peer pressure, maybe? Jenson was, Lewis was, Nico was, even Fernando and Mark were going. Seb had spent the first four days on the beach. Despite his young rouge persona he had cultivated, he wasn’t the biggest fan of parties and the whole playboy life every other formula one driver had. Seb could flirt around, it was almost like his second job, but at the end of the day he wanted a girl to go home with. He lay in his bed in the dead of night, the sound of waves crashing against rocks rushing through his window, and the sound of Lewis and some model fucking sneaking through the walls. Seb pressed his hands to his ears, and sat up.

A run, he should go for a run. Seb walked over to his drawers, pulling on sweat shorts and a black crewneck. He grabbed his phone, and headed downstairs. Certainly he couldn’t wake anyone more than the driver sleeping in the room on the far right. His phone rang loudly and suddenly. Seb rushed outside, that could have woken somebody asleep on the bottom level.

“Who is it?” Seb asked, not prepared at all for the next conversation. “Seb!” A voice gleefully called through the phone. “You picked up!” “Y/N?” Seb asked, in genuine confusion, what were you doing calling him at one in the morning.

“Yeah, it’s me, so I know you’re in Ibiza.” You told Seb, lowering your voice to a whisper.

“I am, are you?” Seb asked, confused. “Why are you calling me at one in the morning?”

“Why are you up this early in the morning? Okay, so these people my friend and I are staying with say I need to get a ride home because I can't handle my alcohol or something.” You complained, slurring your words. You couldn’t handle your alcohol. “I don’t know, so I called you. Is there any chance you can pick me up?” Dead silence over the line.

“Yeah, I can.” He told you, going inside and grabbing the keys to the rental car. Fate must really have wanted him and Y/N to get together, or his delusions. “What bar are you at?” “You’re an actual savior, Seb.” You said, sounding genuinely grateful as you told him the name of the bar. “Okay, I’ll be sitting on a chair against the wall when you get here.”

You hung up before Seb could offer to stay on call. He thought he was supposed to be the blunt one. He drove easily through Ibiza, enjoying the convertible porsche. It was hot in Ibiza, but slightly colder in the night, and the warm wind made it much more enjoyable. The club he arrived at was massive, and when he bypassed the bouncer – pulling the driver card, he found that it was even bigger inside. Neon lights blasting from the dj booth, and fake plants covering the walls.

A chair against the wall, Seb wondered, this place is massive, and is there even a chair in here?“Yo! Yo!” Someone called out. Seb looked up, furrowing his brows as a girl pushed past people to get to him. “Yeah, you! Blondie!” “Blondie?” Seb asked, pointing at himself. She nodded, stumbling over and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re Sebastian Vettel right?” She asked, 

“Listen, I’m looking for someone, it’s kind of late, I don’t really want to sign anything right now.” Seb told her, looking around the massive room for any sign of a fucking chair.

“Ugh, you are a jerk.” She said, an image of disgust on her face. “I’m the girl you’re looking for’s best friend! Yeah, Y/N, do you know her?”

“Y/N said I was a jerk?” Seb asked, of course this girl was your best friend, and he managed to seem like a total asshole.

“Yeah, anyway follow me.” Y/B/F said, grabbing Seb’s shoulder and dragging him through a massive crowd. You were not in fact sitting on a chair, but a bucket, and essentially jumped into Y/B/F’s arms the second you noticed her.

“Hey babe.” Y/B/F said, handing you over to Seb with slight ease. She whispered into his ear, “She’s on eight drinks Y/N, so about to be possibly sick, and have many epiphanies.” Seb placed his hands on your shoulders as you first noticed him.

“Oh! Seb, this is my best friend in the whole world.” You said, smiling at Y/B/F. “And also the person who ruined Ibiza.” “You wouldn’t have Ibiza without me.” Y/B/F said, sliding a massive tote bag over to Seb. “Also, I hope you can crash on his couch because . . . ,”

With the smile the two of you exchanged, Seb assumed Y/B/F was going to be doing the same activity as Lewis was occupying himself with that very night. “Okay know get the fuck out of here before you throw up or pass out on top of somebody.” Y/B/F said playfully. “Love you!!” “Love you too!” You called back, latching onto Seb’s arm and immediately putting your entire body weight on him. “Thank you so much, Seb.” “Yeah, anytime.” Seb said, pretty sure he actually meant it. He pushed open the door, taking in a breath of actual fresh air.

“Let me guess, the porsche-uh.” You said, slurring your words heavily. Seb nodded, opening the convertible door for you and dropping you in the seat as he took his place at the driver's seat. You wore a tube top and a sarong, the sunburn around the halter bikini top and bottoms indicating a day spent at the beach.

“Did you have an eventful day?” Seb asked, you nodded, leaning across the central console to press your cheek against his shoulder. “Yeah, but I think I should quit clubbing.” You told him honestly. “I always do stupid things.”

“Mhm, like hook up with me.” Seb commented. He could feel your frown through his shirt.

“I think if I hadn’t been drunk it wouldn’t have been too much of a mistake.” You told him. “I would’ve been sneakier.” 

“Sneakier?” Seb asked, smiling despite himself. He had to remember, you weren’t you after eight drinks of whatever alcohol you had consumed that night. Most likely some Spanish drink the bartender made up to scam tourists. You suddenly sat up straight, hand covering your mouth.

“Pull over.” You said, dead seriousness.

“What?”

“Pull over right now!” You shouted, clutching the door of the convertible. He swerved to the edge of the road. You essentially fell out of the car, he jumped out, rushing over to you and managing to pull your hair out of your face just in time as you threw up, not once, not twice, but three times on the concrete sidewalk. “Ugh, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Seb said, lifting you up slightly and seating you on the passenger's seat once more. “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, less drunk I think.” You said, grabbing the massive tote bag Y/B/F had handed Seb. “Luckily I actually packed everything I’d need in case every terrible thing occurred tonight.”

You then pulled out a toothbrush and a toothpaste stored in a small plastic bag, and efficiently began brushing your teeth. Seb glimpsed the driver’s villa in the distance, and turned over to you.

“You’re okay with sleeping on the couch, right?”

“I’m fine as long as I can sleep.” You said, spitting the toothpaste out over the side, and collapsing back in the seat. You were slurring your words less now, but it was still there. “I’m just so fucking tired.”

“You’ll be able to go to sleep in a second, don’t worry.” Seb said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as well. Exhaustion was supposed to be contagious, wasn’t it? Who knew, it seemed like whatever you felt affected Seb.

“Okay.” You said, clutching your bag like a pillow. He pulled to a stop in the driveway, helping you out of the car, essentially being half-carried the entire way through the door.

The massive windows facing the beach illuminated the living and kitchen, exposing a sight Seb wasn’t sure he was ready to see. Lewis and his hookup nude filling up two separate bowls of cereal.

“Hey Seb.” Lewis said with a nod. His face changed expressions instantly to surprise and slightly happy when he noticed who you were with. “Look who you found!”

“Hey, Lewis.” Seb said, resisting the urge to cover your eyes.

“Hey.” You said with a smile. You turned to the model next to him, and smiled at her. The woman smiled back. “You have very nice boobs.”

“Thank you.” She replied with a wide smile. “You have nice ones too!”

You smiled, and the model girl waved you a farewell as she and Lewis returned, Lewis holding two bowls of cereal. They covered his nipples at least.

“Are they going to eat cereal while having sex?” You asked, mouth slightly agape. 

“You can go and ask if you want.” Seb offered.

“I’m good.” You said, laying down on the couch, and rummaging through your massive tote bag.

“Do you want me to grab you blankets?” Seb asked.

“Duh.” You replied, pulling out a pair of black shorts from your bag. Seb turned around and essentially sprinted up the stairs to grab a handful of blankets from the closet. When he came back. You had changed into a gray baby tee, and black cotton shorts, face squished into a pillow. Seb smiled at the image of you asleep, memories brought back to the days he had been an absolute asshole, and you hated him. Developement? He placed the two blankets on your resting form, slightly surprised at how quickly you had managed to change and fall asleep. 

“Good night.” Seb whispered.

“Are you leaving?” You mumbled.

“What?” Seb asked, slightly frozen above you. “Why aren’t you staying?” You asked, grabbing his hand tightly and pulling him closer. “You want me to sleep on the couch with you?” “Mhm, you’re warm. Like a human heater.” You mumbled, wrapping your arm around his forearm. Seb frowned slightly, not quite sure what the right move would be, choosing to sit down on the edge of the couch. He leaned his back against the pillow. You adjusted your sleeping position, resting your head on Seb’s chest and wrapping your arms around his waist in a way that made Seb nervous to move too much. “My not so sweet human heater.”

You woke up later in the night, maybe four or five am. Slightly hungover, and intending on closing your eyes once more as you looked up at Seb. His eyes were fixated on the wide windows overlooking the beautiful ocean. You wished you could know what he was thinking behind those baby blues.

next (coming soon)