#cheers to this prompt finally being over and done with

[diremoone]

quiet kisses | r. sukuna

prompt 2 — “I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe.”

requested by @yuujispinkhair :: Heyyy babe, your Christmas prompt post is so cute 💗💗 If you feel inspired, can you please write a little something for Sukuna + prompt 2 or prompt 7 (whichever you prefer)? 💗💗

a/n: AHHHH thank you so much for sending this in Winter! 🤩 I can’t tell you how much I nearly exploded seeing your request in my inbox! I went with prompt 2 because that’s the one my brain started working for the fastest. I hope you like it and I did your request justice :3

w — alcohol mention, fluff, everyone is 20+ in this fic, modern AU, mentions of prompt 7 heehee, softie! sukuna, sukuna cooks at the end lmao but it’s not related to the chef! sukuna fic

[ Christmas Prompt List ]

[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]

Nobara putting on this Christmas party was anything but unexpected. She was a party girl at heart, but nothing like what you’d see at a frat house or a club. No, she was the party master (or so she likes to call herself). And you kinda had to agree. Her parties weren’t over the top, but they definitely were anything but boring.

This time was no different: catering, along pizza and wine delivery, along with some of the more higher-rated Christmas movies playing on the TV with English Christmas music playing on the background, just loud enough that it wasn’t obnoxious.

You knew your boyfriend had to agree, even if he hated attending social events and parties.

What an introvert, you muse to yourself. You wonder how many people realize that as much as Sukuna seems like it, he doesn’t actually like parties. Nor anyone but himself and you at said parties.

You and Sukuna are off to the side against the bar that separates the kitchen and living area, deep in your own little world of each other. You’re leaning on him, his big arm wrapped around your shoulders comfortably.

You nudge him. “This isn’t so bad. See!”

Sukuna scoffs. “That’s what you said when you forced me into that Santa costume last year.”

“But you had some fun, didn’t you?”

“In the suit? No. Terrorizing children in it? Absolutely.”

You slap his chest. He catches your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You grumble. “You idiot.”

“Your idiot,” he remarks with a grin.

Suddenly, like magic, the party suddenly gets loud. Jingle Bells comes on the playlist set up, and everyone has begun to sing as loud as they possibly can. Sukuna grumbles and plugs one ear with a finger, rolling his eyes. He keeps on ear open, and you know it’s just to listen to you as you attempt to sing your way through the giggles.

When the song ends, everyone cheers. Sukuna unplugs his one ear and sighs, taking another sip of the hot chocolate you’ve made for him. They all quiet down, giggling and giddy from the sudden excitement of the old but catchy tune.

But why is everyone now looking at his and your direction?

And then everyone starts chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You and Sukuna look up at the same time, seeing a mistletoe being hung over your heads by a fishing rod, but none other than the Party Master herself. Nobara grins sadistically with an evil glint in her eye.

Sukuna cusses and downs the rest of his drink before saying, “I think that’s our cue to leave. Nice party, Kugisaki.”

You attempt to down the rest of yours before he grabs your hand with his bigger one and leads you out the front door, almost stumbling over your own two feet.

Behind you, everyone complains about Sukuna being a “party pooper” and leaving. Before you two leave, he turns back to them and gives them the finger.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t the only couple here. Maybe Geto and Gojo should finally shack up,” Sukuna says with an evil grin. The two men next to each other go redder than tomatoes in record time. Sukuna isn’t done though, looking at his little brother. “And maybe you and Fushiguro should finally get a room, too, baby brother.”

The chaos from your boyfriend’s words gives you the chance to leave without trouble, the two unspoken couples now being the main attention of Kugisaki’s evil fishing rod-mistletoe.

Maybe they’ll be together come New Years, you think happily.

Sukuna drives you both home. One hand on the wheel, the other intertwined sweetly with yours. But by the time you get home, you’re halfway asleep in the car, hot cocoa being the perpetrator of your tiredness. You attempt to blink and wake up, but Sukuna’s gruff, “Stay put.” halts you as he turns the car off, keeping his keys in one hand.

You have no idea what he’s doing until he opens your door and slides his arms under your back and legs. You squeal and giggle as he effortlessly picks you up from your seat.

“Goddamn, you got the giggles tonight,” he mutters.

Like he’s done it a thousand times (he’s at least done it a couple dozen), Sukuna unlocks the front door with you in his arms with pure ease. He carries you over the threshold like a husband would his bride and doesn’t set you down. He hoists you up, readjusting your position closer to his chest. And then you see the cunning look in his eyes.

“Sukuna, what are you— mmph!”

He dips his head and captures your lips with his. He’s warm, so warm and comforting. You feel so safe and loved in his hold and damn do you love him. Your arms naturally tighten their hold around his neck as you two kiss in your home.

When Sukuna pulls away, he chuckles. You’re slightly breathless from the sudden kiss, but grinning nonetheless.

“You couldn’t do that at the party?” you inquire curiously.

“I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe,” he replies honestly. “Especially at a party in front of people. Not my thing to make such an intimate spectacle of ourselves.”

Your heart flutters and overflows with love at his desire to keep his affection solely for your eyes to see. Sukuna has never been one to kiss or do intimate things in public beyond hand holding or wrapping his arm around your shoulders. For him, he considers that to be sacred; any acts of love he prefers to be behind closed doors, kept between the two of you and not in front of people to be fawned over or talked about.

“You really are the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” you say. “I’m so lucky. I really got the best man ever, didn’t I? Thanks, Universe.”

Your boyfriend’s cheeks tint red. A rare sight.

“Fuck. No, I’m the lucky one.” Sukuna gives you a fat smooch on the lips, the adds, “But I don’t have the universe to thank. I got you all by myself.”

You toss your head back and laugh at his indirect proclamation of arrogance. Or maybe it was just unshakable confidence, who knows?

Sukuna sets you down on the couch and asks, “What do you want for dinner?”

You think for a moment before replying, “Didn’t you say wanted to make some penne vodka the other day? That sounds good.”

“Penne alla vodka,” he corrects you with a stern eye.

You toss your hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.”

But as Sukuna gets to work on the dish, you can’t help but stare at him as he works. He could be a master chef like Gordon Ramsey, if not better. But you’re kinda glad he’s not, not if you get to see him in your kitchen every night.

Yeah, you’d trade any party and PDA for his quiet kisses and love at home any day.

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss | @missmuffinr

[the-offside-rule]

Jenson Button (McLaren Era) - Formal

Requested: yes

Prompt: reader using Jensons name instead of his pet name

Warnings: none tbh

Jenson's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he navigated the familiar roads home from the McLaren Technology Centre. The hum of the engine was drowned out by the cheerful voice of his girlfriend, Y/n, on the other end of the line. "Heya, love." She said, her tone a touch too sweet for the usual end-of-day call. "Could you do me a favor?" Jenson smiled, glancing at the clock. "Of course, darling. What's up?" He asked, beginning to drive down the long road down the MTC. "Well, I was thinking... can you swing by McDonald's and grab me some chips, maybe a burger and a chocolate shake? I'm craving it." She requested, her voice holding a peculiar edge.

"Yeah okay, darling. Burger, chips and a chocolate shake, got it." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Y/n rarely asked for such specific fast food orders. "Oh, and Jenson-" She continued, emphasizing his full name instead of the usual pet names she used. "Make sure it's fresh, okay?" A small frown creased Jenson's forehead. "Not if you keep calling me that." Jenson replied. "What do you mean? I called you Jenson." Y/n said, kind of confused. "Why the sudden formality? You never call me Jenson unless something's up." Y/n giggled amusingly. "Nothing's up, love, I promise. I just thought it would be nice for a change."

"Well don't, please and thank you. I quite like you calling me my pet name." Jenson's skepticism lingered as he pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru. "Jenson, your parents gave you that name." He rolled the window down. "Yes, my parents. You, darling, are my girlfriend. I like when you call me love and if you don't I'm afraid I'll have to block you." He ordered the requested items, making a mental note to ensure they were as hot as possible by the time he got home. As he drove away with the bag of fast food, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/n's request.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jenson's heart raced as he hurriedly navigated through the evening traffic, eager to reach home and see what he'd done done annoy his girlfriend this time. The anticipation of seeing her after a long day fueled his desire to press on the accelerator just a bit more. Blue and red lights flashed behind him, causing Jenson to let out an exasperated sigh. Pulling over and groaning, he rolled down his window to meet the stern gaze of a police officer. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The officer asked upon reaching the car. Jenson offered a sheepish smile. "I might have been going a tad over the limit, officer. Apologies, I'm just trying to get home."

The officer raised an eyebrow. "Home, huh? And where might that be?" He asked. "Right down the road." Jenson replied, gesturing vaguely ahead. "I've been away for a while, you see. Just eager to get back." The officer eyed Jenson skeptically. "You expect me to believe that? You're in quite a hurry. Who do you think you are? Lewis Hamilton?" Jenson couldn't help but chuckle at the comparison. "No, but I've beaten him a good few times." He replied, smirking.

The officer's expression remained stoic. "I don't appreciate jokes, sir. License and registration, please." Suppressing a sigh, Jenson reached for his documents and handed them over. The officer scrutinized them before returning to his patrol car to run a check. As Jenson waited, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. He understood the officer's duty, but the delay was becoming increasingly frustrating.

Finally, the officer returned, ticket in hand. "I'm issuing you a speeding ticket, Mr. Button. Please drive more responsibly in the future." Jenson gave a fake smile and took the ticket. "I appreciate the reminder, officer. I'll keep that in mind." As the officer walked off, Jenson mumbled to himself, the words "complete arsehole" being repeated multiple times.

Once home, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're back! Thanks, Jenson." He handed her the bag, studying her carefully. "Alright. What's going on? Why the sudden craving and the formal use of my name?" Y/n smirked, unable to keep the secret any longer. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to see how you'd react. I like getting reactions out of you." She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Really? You made me drive to McDonald's and speed home because I thought you were pissed off with me. I got a speeding ticket!" Jenson said, lifting the ticket. "And you have a Happy girlfriend who now has McDonald's." Jenson chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, Y/n. Next time, just ask for McDonald's without the elaborate plan."

"It's not as effective though, is it?" She teased.

[guardianofnightmares]

Forbidden

At that moment Bumblebee finally realized that he couldn’t keep the paranoid thoughts locked inside his processor anymore.

He desperately needed to speak to his friends, consequences be damned. He had to make sure that he’s not glitched in a processor. That what he got himself into was a right course of action for any good-natured Bot.

... or, rather, for any sensible Prime.

Hence why, after making a deep inhale, a minibot finally forced the dreaded words out of his intake:

"... is it wrong that I feel... bad for the prisoners? That I... periodically... h-help them?"

----------

Hello everyone, long time no see). Can hardly believe it's been a whole year since the last @blitzbee-week event and man, was I glad to participate in it once more. All of works were submitted on time to an event chat, but, unfortunately, I am uploading them here only now (full-time job drains me up).

Anyways, here is my first drawing from BlitzBeeWeek event Promts List. I think it will be fair to mention that this and next couple of my works will be dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". I will leave a link [here] for anyone interested to give it (and an existing teaser) a try. And yes, I am, in fact, going to finally upload first chapters pretty soon, it's happening, guys))). Thanks a ton for everyone who left their kudos there throughout a year, you have given me courage to put this behemoth of a story on paper and actually work it through.

As for the current entry for an event, I will provide part of a draft to one of chapters which is related to a depicted scene. It'll be "hidden" under a cut line for anyone wishing to get a more... fleshed out picture of what's going on here. Hope you'll enjoy reading it)

----------

“Bumblebee… are you listening to me?”

It was beyond confusing for Ratchet to see a younger Bot acting so out of touch with reality. He’s hunched over a console, helm resting in one servo while a wielding tool was twirled slowly in digits of another. Bumblebee looked so tired, clearly not caring about a task at servo, nor about an advice coming from his elder friend.

White and red Autobot knew how cheerful Bumblebee got each time they met via video calls, clearly waiting for a chance to talk to old teammates, even if these calls didn’t last long. That’s why him being so silent and lost in own thoughts was that much more worrying to witness. 

Upon being prompted again, the young bot finally raised his optics, the weight of his gaze almost making Ratchet flinch in surprise - to think that a recently promoted Prime was capable of behaving so out of character was indeed an alarming sign of change. 

The truth was, the minibot couldn’t help but to act all secretive, as if he’s done something wrong. 

Because, all things considered, he has. 

Minibot was well aware of what his actions could lead up to. All those rendezvous and revelations were such a dangerous subject to talk about, something that surely could lead him to being court marshaled if he’s caught by anybot. And what’s even worse - Bumblebee wasn’t certain whether telling friends what’s been troubling him was a good idea. 

Surely they’d not rat him out… but would they continue interacting with a yellow Autobot if he shared said secret with them? Wouldn't it be more mature of him to leave mechs oblivious (in order to protect them) and let his fears to silently fester in his processor?

... yet, to his shame, a minibot felt his resolve to keep his intake shut breaking upon seeing a haunted expression on Ratchet’s faceplates. Bumblebee wished he hadn’t looked up into the wise optics of his, those that seemed to read him as an unlocked datapad. How could he play it cool when a medic was looking at him in such a manner?

“…kid?” Now Ratchet was truly worried for his companion. He wasn’t even certain he’s ready to hear an explanation, but knew in his spark that he had to get to the bottom of a problem for minibot's sake.

At that moment Bumblebee finally realized that he couldn’t keep the paranoid thoughts locked inside his processor anymore.

He desperately needed to speak to his friends, consequences be damned. He had to make sure that he’s not glitched in a processor. That what he got himself into was a right course of action for any good-natured Bot. 

… or, rather, for any sensible Prime. 

Hence why, after making a deep inhale, a minibot finally forced the dreaded words out of his intake:

“… is it wrong that I feel… bad for the prisoners? That I… periodically… h-help them?” 

… a fleeting moment or relief at voicing his concerns instantly evaporated, changed to regret once he saw Racthet’s optics widening beyond usual capacity and heard Optimus sputtering and coughing on his energon ration off the camera. 

Such reaction made Bumblebee hide his helm between shoulder pauldrons in a clear sign of dread - so much for the support coming from teammates it seemed. 

“What?” Optimus asked after standing up from a table he’s sitting next to, the stool screeching audibly after a mech span in it. “Help them? What do you mean by that, Bumblebee? Are you alright? Do they… force you to do something for them or..?”

Minibot didn’t answer any of those questions. Wasn’t able to do it under the searching gaze of an elder mech’s optics which seemed to pin him to his own stool. Bumblebee felt like energon was going to freeze in his lines and tubes from a rising horror. Time seemed to stop for him, not unlike inner mechanisms in a frame of his. He couldn't utter a single sound, words swimming in a jumbled mess that was his processor.

What could he possibly say in his defense, now that his teammates knew of his secret? That there was a proper reason for him to feel pity for the inmates? That he was the only one to keep those mechs alive because nobody else did? That perhaps, Primus help him, all this time they were held in prison, somebot tried to take them out of game by starving them to their deaths?

A yellow Bot clearly hasn’t thought the conversation through, just as he always did, hasn't prepared himself for such a reaction even, and now that mistake was biting his aft. 

But then… then minibot heard something that immediately tore him from a panicking state he got stuck in. 

“I’ll take care of it, Prime.” Ratchet announced in a calm tone, breaking the tense silence which settled over the video call. Bumblebee was so stunned that he didn’t register those words right away, looking dumbly at warm optics of a mech on the other side of a call line. 

“But-“ 

“Optimus.” Medic cut off his commanding officer in a stern but good-natured manner, showing that he knew what he’s doing. Trusting the judgement of an older Bot, red and blue mech nodded to him and stepped away from a console, giving both of his friends some room to talk to each other. 

Young Prime could hardly believe what he’s been witnessing in front of him. Afraid to hope that his situation might’ve not been so dire after all. Baiting his breath, he watched red and white Bot turning to him again and leaning closer to a screen.

“Bumblebee, tell me, what’s happening back on Cybertron.” Ratchet asked his young friend, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, ready to tentatively listen to everything minibot’s about to say. 

And that’s when Bumblebee understood, felt it in his spark which gleefully thrummed in his chest that his old teammates were not mad at him - only worried for his well-being. Said realization made the built up over orbital cycles tension leave his frame and gave him courage to answer as honestly as he could.  

“You don’t know even half of what's going on, guys,” He stated after a breath moment of silence, then scooted on his chair closer to a screen as well and continued speaking in a hushed tone as to not to be heard by anyone else on his side of a video call. 

While retelling the recent events, which took place in Tripticon Prison, young Prime couldn’t help but periodically glance at a screen to his right side, a list of main convicts taking up most of its surface. 

Their stern gazes seemed to burn a viewer with hostility. Evil, cold, sparkless optics on unsightly faceplates. That’s what fellow guards always tended to whisper to each other either in fear or in bold mockery while walking down the hallways.

But to Bumblebee the very same pairs of optics, those he'd looked into more times then any of the local mechs, more then his friends even, told another story. Each time he saw Decepticons, bound and stripped of their weapons, there was no rage in their expressions, nor malice or contempt - only an eternal tiredness, hopelessness... and resignation with Fate.

Warframes. Mighty mechs being brought to their knees and stripped of their pride. Truly a sight which made minibot feel more miserable then three inmates he tried to take care of.

“Bossbot… Ratchet… please, come back here as soon as you can," Recently promoted Prime finally said as a conclusion to his speech. "I… I am afraid I won’t be able to handle this situation on my own anymore.”

[tervaneula]

u said leoichi drabble prompt request. consider. one injured and the other protecting them and then the injured one has to calm them down bc 'they're okay, really, promise, rest now'

OKAY SO this fused with a ghost of an idea I've had for a while and it ended up being a bit more serious than the prompt called for and a lot longer than just a drabble. (It's ~1120 words.) CW: blood and injury

Also I made a silly header thing I don't know what to do with, so I'm putting it here since this fic doesn't come with art of its own :'3

“Yui, I’m okay–” 

The rabbit turns his head to look at him, furious. 

“I heard your shell crack, Leonardo, and I'm not an idiot! Now stay down and let me handle this!” 

He falls quiet for a moment before redirecting his glare towards their adversary and then adds a muted, “Please.” 

There's no compromising with Yuichi in this state, apparently, and Leonardo stays right where he got crushed between metal claws and the concrete, splayed on the ground next to those very same claws which had gotten swiftly cut from the wrist for their transgressions.

He does roll onto his side to get his body weight off his shell, and yeah, alright, one or more of the old cracks that never healed properly must have split open again. It's tough to breathe and his back feels… His kimono is sticking to his shell and his back feels wet now that he's paying attention, and that. That is not good. 

Just his luck to run into a massive mecha wreaking havoc on an otherwise lovely day, huh. He wasn't even supposed to be on patrol and thus is embarrassingly swordless. 

Good thing that his date and their resident samurai always carries his. 

The slider watches as Yuichi does quick work of the metal hunk's wiring behind its knees, his frighteningly sharp katana slicing through the cables like butter. The mech falls with a ground-shaking rumble, unable to rise again, arm flailing as it tries to catch the rabbit. It's no use, Yuichi is much smaller and faster – and as soon as he reaches the mech's head, it's already rolling. The construct immediately loses power and Yuichi wrenches the windowed hatch in its chest open. Turns out there's no pilot, just a program-operated dashboard, and he makes sure that none of the controls are functional after he's done with them. 

Leonardo thinks he could watch Yuichi trash villains all day long, he's practically mesmerised by the strength hidden in that soft frame despite his shell throbbing unpleasantly in tandem with his heartbeat. He sighs, lovestruck. 

As his final move, Yuichi thrusts his katana into the heart of the mecha and Leonardo sees a spray of ink-black oil splash all over Yuichi's face and the front of his kimono. It makes him laugh and he realises his mistake too late, his lungs struggling to draw breath again as he finally gets hit with the pain, his body trying to stop him from moving; from causing any more damage. Shit, shit, shit. 

He had hoped he wouldn’t need to bother any of his brothers today since he was supposed to spend the whole day with Yuichi but he knows to pick his battles, now. He opens the comm link embedded in his prosthetic, contacting someone who he knows will pick up. 

“Che~ello!” comes the cheerful answer in just a few seconds, and Leonardo can't help but smile. 

“Mikeyyy, hermano, I'm in a bit of a pickle,” he wheezes, feeling the shift in his little brother's energy as soon as he hears the strain in his voice. 

“Leo? Are you okay?” 

“Not really, no,” Leonardo grunts. “Got into a scuffle with some big haywire robot– don’t worry, that’s taken care of. I suspect Donnie will want to scrap it for parts. Um. My shell’s– my shell’s cracked though.” 

Leonardo can vividly imagine the colour draining from Michelangelo's face and it would be funny if he wasn't acutely aware of a broken shell coming with the very real possibility of his innards turning into outnards. 

“I'm calling Draxy. Stay put, I'll get Lee to pick you up.” 

“Right,” Leonardo sighs, the line going out just when Yuichi is finally done with the mech and rushing to his side, face haphazardly wiped from oil. His gaze is sharp as he kneels next to him, sweaty and out of breath, and Leonardo thinks he looks like a knight. Or maybe like a samurai of the old, in this case. 

“There’s my hero,” he coos before Yuichi can get a word out and the rabbit’s brow furrows. 

“Don’t start,” he snaps but his tone softens almost immediately, “I saw you calling someone. It’s bad, isn’t it? It… it looks really bad.” 

“Yeeeah, this kimono is definitely ruined,” Leonardo laments, “unless you know how to, gh, get blood out of corduroy? No? Or the obi?” 

Yuichi stares. 

“A– a shame, really, I did like this one a lot–” 

“Leonardo!” Yuichi interrupts him and grabs his bicep, looking two seconds away from crying. Leonardo frowns. He knows he’s getting a little delirious but he was sincerely trying his best to lift his mate’s mood. 

“Leon, please, you’re rambling. Is someone coming? Can I do anything?” 

“‘m not rambling,” Leonardo grumbles, hissing when he fills his lungs again. “Leo’s coming to get us, Draxy– Draxum will treat the shell. And no, better keep the obi in place until we get to the medbay.” 

Yuichi’s shoulders slump and he sighs, most likely relieved that he’s not going to have to figure out how to deal with a cracked shell. Leonardo does not like the lingering worry in Yuichi’s gaze one bit, though, and he offers him a grin. It’s a little shaky but whatever. 

“Heeey, bunbun. Listen. This is nothing I haven’t been through before. I’ll be fine.” 

Yuichi gives him an honest-to-God kicked-puppy look and Leonardo thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen in his life. He almost tells him so but Yuichi cups his cheek and his forced grin melts away into surprised silence. 

“I hate seeing you hurt,” Yuichi murmurs, leaning down to press his forehead against Leonardo’s. The slider’s eyes flutter shut and he lifts his hand to hold onto Yuichi’s wrist. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I mean it. I should’ve been more careful.” 

Yuichi huffs and leans away to gently bump their foreheads together. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“Maybe, but ’m still sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Yuichi says, exasperated. “You should know that at this point, I’ll always worry.” 

Leonardo grins and this time it’s genuine. Breathing in his partner’s scent is like a balm to him, even if it’s tinged with the bitterness of motor oil, even if his body currently thinks that breathing is overrated. Even if he just got called an idiot by none other than said partner. 

“Raincheck on the date?” he mumbles, and finally he gets a chuckle out of the rabbit. Yuichi straightens his back and flicks him on the nose. 

“Like you even needed to ask. Idiot.” 

Before Leonardo can express his displeasure of being called an idiot for a second time there’s the familiar electric hum of a portal opening behind him, and someone whistles. 

“Sheesh, old man. That kimono is definitely ruined.” 

[buggybambi]

exes with benefits | lip gallagher

inspired by: olivia rodrigo's "bad idea, right?" (2023)

wc: 1.83k | nav post mae note: okay i hate the ending of this so if anyone else hates it please lmk and i will adjust it because ugh i changed it like three times and it still feels... meh? idk i feel like i need to make a part two (if people even like this??)

rating: 18+ post, minors dni. :-) content warnings: fem!reader / afab!reader, unwrapped p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), kinda public sex??, exes hooking up, plot with little plot, unsettled ending lmfao, fem!fingering, oral (f recieving) bc lets be honest lip is a munch, brief mention of reader wearing panties/a bra

House parties were never really your "scene".

The chaos and uncertaintiy of whose house you're even in, the smell of colognes and perfumes and sweat, the alcohol being mixed together in plastic cups that are discarded on the floor later that smell like Disneyland if it wasn't cleaned in a month-. Every part of a house party sounds awful. So, why are you standing in one now?

Well, your friend Lauren would be the reason why. Work had been a bitch for her recently - her words not yours - and you had gone through a breakup recently, prompting her to suggest a girl's night out. How you ended up at a house party from the crappy bar she dragged you to in downtown Chicago was beyond you.

"C'mon! This is totally gonna distract you from Lippy and all the drama he brought. To being single!" Lauren drunkingly cheers as she holds up her plastic cup of (you're sure) three different kinds of alcohol. You hold up your glass of water barely, running a hand over your face. "Yeah, can we not announce that?" You ask.

Two seconds later, she's giggling with a guy leading her up the stairs. You sigh, turning to go get some fresh air when there he stands. Lip Gallagher. Your freshly appointed ex-boyfriend. Or Lippy, as Lauren refers to him.

You and Lip had dated for two years, but you'd known him since you were kids. Your relationship was perfect, until one night. When he called you clingy, a bitch - this was of course after not talking to you for almost a whole week. You told him that night you were done with him. That he could call when he figured himself out.

He didn't call. It'd been a month.

It doesn't feel real that time has passed that quickly, because part of you is still stuck in his bedroom. Right where he left you. A lesson well learned.

"Hi." He says, as he stares at you. You stare right back.

"Hi." You manage to get out, clearing your throat. "I have to go-"

"Wait. Can we talk, please?" He asks, walking over to you, a hand on your arm as he whispers to you. The world stops for a pause before you nod. "Fine." You agree.

You let him lead you upstairs into an empty room, taking it in. It looks to be a guest bedroom, few decorations other then picture frames with the "welcome to our home" and flower vases on the nightstands.

"Welcome to my hell" would be a better fit.

"Why are we avoiding each other like this? You've been my best friend since I was fucking ten years old, I don't want us to lose each other like this." He says as you sit on the edge of the bed, taking note of the floral bedspread. "We already lost each other, Lip. A long time ago." You point out.

"Don't do this shit, don't be all cryptic." He rolls his eyes as you stand right back up, almost giving yourself whiplash. But that's disregarded when every memory floods back to you.

"Oh my God! What the hell do you want from me, Lip, huh? You want me to just forget every single thing you said to me? Or maybe you want me to just forget how you avoided me like the damn plague for a week before you finally did call me just to blow up at me and tell me you didn't want to be with me anymore. You can't go from telling me I was your favorite person to telling me you think I'm a bitch. And I can’t even look at my favorite person anymore, so what the fuck do you expect me to do?" You burst out, turning away from him, staring out the window.

It's silent for what feels like an eternity before you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind. "I don't want to lose you. I- I haven't been me since you left. Please." He isn't sure what he's even begging for from you, but his voice is soft enough where you feel yourself wanting to give in.

This was a bad idea, right? After all, he was your ex. But you're both mature adults, can't two people reconnect? You'd only see him as a friend this time, it wasn't like he had to be something more.

You sigh as you push his arms off, walking for the door, waiting for a moment before locking it. You turn back around to face him, walking over to him and barely grazing his lips with your own to tease him before he kisses you. His hands find themselves on your waist like how he used to put them there when he kissed you like this.

Used. It still doesn't feel real to use parts of your relationship in the past tense. How you used to kiss him, how he used to hold you, how he used to be yours.

You kick your shoes off, and he does the same.

He pushes you back onto the bed, deepening the kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth easily, one hand on your back, the other sliding up your thigh. He knows your body so well, it's almost a science to him. He knows how your body reacts to certain touches. Certain places to kiss to make you giggle. Parts of your body that if he touches them, your back arches or you naturally move closer to them.

Like right now. His hand teasing around your sex, not quite touching where you so desperately want him.

His mouth only parts from yours to begin kissing down your jaw, then onto your neck. Finding solace there, he makes a mark on your pulse point, low moans erupting from you. Hands running through disheveled curls.

His hand finally reaches your cunt, and you hear him groan at the wetness growing on your panties. He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod desperately in return, not sure what he’s planning in that genius brain of his.

He removes your shirt so he can kiss your chest. Then your bottoms, leaving you in only your bra and panties. A finger slides those panties to the side, and he lets out another groan as he slides the digit past your slick folds, and you let out a gasp in return. You give a little tug to his hair and he almost moans at it, which you make a mental note of.

He thrusts his finger out, at a torturously slow pace, all while kissing down your body. You quickly realize when he grins up at you what he wants to do. What he feels he needs to do. You give him a nod of your approval, moans still flooding out.

He stops thrusting and removes his finger, only to replace it with his tongue. Sucking and kissing your clit, sliding his tongue in you while his hands run over skin on your thighs. You bite on your hand just to muffle your moans from the still active party outside, just as his nose bumps your clit.

“Shit, Lip. I'm close- fuck..” You whine as he laps desperately at your sex, and you can feel his smirk. "Language. Let go for me, baby, please." He requests softly, rubbing tiny circles on your clit.

You don't last long after that.

He lets your climax drip down your thighs, grinning to himself as he watches, feeling some of it on his jaw. "Need to feel you, please, Lip." You beg, and he frees himself from his boxers. Giving himself a few strokes before he lines himself up with his enterance. "You ready, sweet angel?" He asks, pressing his forehead against yours and lightly trailing slobbery kisses down your cheek before connecting to your lips. You pull away only after a second, whispering a soft "yes, please" before you're kissing his jaw in anticipation.

He groans, inserting himself past your now damp folds, thrusting gently in and out. He watches as his dick is swallowed by your cunt, your walls fluttering around him like it’s a familiar friend coming back.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure why he pushed you away. Maybe he let the negative thoughts that you were too good for him take over. Maybe it was just the Gallagher thing to do.

But he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

Your moan brings him back to reality, hands on his shoulders as he finds a new position to fuck deeper into you, and he finds himself groaning as your nails dig into his skin. You quickly learn by the way his dick twitches he enjoys that.

And he learns by the way your walls squeeze around him you like it when he hits that spot in you. The spot that makes your head feel blurry, the spot that replaces every thought with his name. The spot that makes moans come out of you, the spot that makes the familiar heat in your belly grow.

“Fuck, Lip, I’m gonna-” Your words are cut off when he hits that spot again, even with a new angle. His forehead pressed against yours, sweat connecting with sweat. “Shit angel, you were just made for me. Pretty pussy just missed me, huh?” His words slur from the pleasure clouding his senses.

Your moans and mixtures of his name are more of an answer for him. The room smelled like sex, sound of skin slapping against skin filled it. He pressed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as he rubbed small circles on your aching clit, and he feels the familiar white heat pouring out of your cunt.

He doesn’t last long, burying his seed deep in you. Swallowing your whines and moans as he pulls out, only breaking the kiss to stare at you, both of your chests heaving as you catch your breath. Watch your eyes having a silent conversation with his.

He lays down beside you. He watches as you run a hand over your face, and he decides to wash you both up. Returning with a damp washcloth, he helps get you cleaned up and setting your clothes on the end of the bed.

“So, uhm..” He tries to think of a conversation starter, and you shake your head, holding a hand up. “We shouldn’t have done this.” You whisper, frowning as you grab your clothes, slowly redressing yourself.

“You don’t have to go. We can go back to your place or mine and we can just talk.” You don’t realize he’s begging rather than requesting. This can’t be how you and him say goodbye after seeing each other again for the first time.

"I can't do this, Lip." You point out as you fight to get your shoes on.

You’d only see him as a friend.. biggest lie you ever said.

"I love you." He says. "I was an idiot for not saying it before so I'm saying it now. I'm in love with you and I always will be."

Definetly a lie now.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! if you enjoyed reading this you can definetly check out my lip gallagher masterlist here -> click me!

- mae:)

[spaceyaceface]

How do you think Ominis and/or Sebastian would react to the reader being stood up for a date, especially when they absolutely adore us? Would they comfort us by taking us on a date they've ran through their minds a million times so we can forget about being stood up by a loser and finally confess their love for us? Ugh I'm a sucker for fluffy writings like that ❤️‍🩹

This doesn't need to be a full-blown work, I just wanted your thoughts/opinions since you've been dubbed the Patron Saint of Ominis works.

Too bad, you're getting a full blown work with Ominis because I love this. And him. He's all I think about. Thank you for this prompt!!! I love it so much!

Warnings: Feelings of inadequacy, being stood up on a date, making Andrew Larson the bad guy (as always)

Word Count: 1.6k

Ominis laid out on his bed, trying not to let his spiraling thoughts consume him. He should be happy for her. That’s what good friends do, right? Celebrate things with one another, cheer each other on as they try things, grow, find their place in life?

He wanted to do all that. He just couldn’t stop wishing her current place wasn’t with Andrew Larson. 

He was fully aware of how idiotic he was being. He had never asked her on any sort of date, never even hinted at his deep feelings toward her in the two years they had known each other. All of this made the fact that he couldn’t help his thoughts from wandering to her every two seconds all the more pathetic. 

They were close. He’d dare say that he was even closer to her than Sebastian in some aspects, even though they’d had less time to know each other. But there had always been something about her that drew him in, allowed him to open himself up to her. It had scared him at first—but as he slowly gave in, he found himself wondering how he had ever lived a day without her. 

He’d just never expected this level of aching to come with it. 

She’d asked Larson out a few days before—it had come as a complete shock to him. Despite their closeness, she had never mentioned any feelings she’d had toward him. When he carefully asked why she’d done it, she just said she’d heard he might be interested in her, and wanted to see where it would go. The days had passed like agony, and finally, the evening of their outing had arrived. 

He wondered if she had come back yet. Were her and Larson slowly making their way back to the castle, laughing at newfound jokes? Had he held her hand as they walked, daring to capture her soft skin in his grasp, or—Ominis sucked in a sharp breath—had he kissed her goodnight, with a promise of see you again soon?

It was that thought that finally pulled him out of his bed. He couldn’t stay there, thinking those sorts of things. He’d only drive himself mad. He shouldn’t care. He should just hope she was having fun. That he was treating her well. But he couldn’t help it. 

His feet carried him through the halls of the castle. It was past curfew now—surely she was back in her room. Larson wasn’t a rulebreaker, unlike him and Sebastian. He wondered for a brief moment if that's what she liked about him, but shook the thought before it could take any true form. It wasn’t long until he was entering the Undercroft. But then he froze. 

Crying. Someone was crying. 

He knew that tone of voice. It was hers. Why on earth was she here, when she was supposed to have had a perfect evening out? 

He called out her name, walking to her. His wand let him sense her figure, hunched over as she sat atop one of the crates in the room. She responded to his voice, trying to take a deep breath before answering. 

“O-ominis,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be down here. I was just… I needed someplace to be alone.”

“Alone?” Ominis asked. “I thought… did your date not go well?”

She sniffled. “It didn’t go at all, actually.”

Ominis’s mind raced. What had happened? Why was she here crying instead of up in her dorm room telling her roommates how wonderful her time was? But he reached the most likely conclusion—one that was quick to make his blood boil. “He stood you up?” The anger was barely masked in his voice. 

He heard her choke back another sob instead of speaking. That was answer enough for him. 

How dare he? Various choice words rushed through his head, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from cursing the git out loud. Did he not realize he’d just lost? Ominis had just spent hours pacing the floor of his room, sick at the thought of her giving Larson any ounce of her love, and he’d went and burned it all. His hand twitched, and he found himself wondering how easy it might be to break into the Ravenclaw common room. 

But as he heard her shuddering breaths, he was reminded of why he was so upset in the first place. 

There would be time to deal with the prick later. She needed him now. 

He rushed to move beside her, sitting next to her and carefully placing an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into the contact as he rubbed his hand up and down her bicep, trying to help her breathe properly. After a few moments, he spoke quietly. “What happened?”

He felt her shrug under his arm. “I told him we’d meet near the north entrance, and he just… didn’t come. I waited until it was dark out and nothing. He didn’t even send me an owl.” She brought her knees up, curling into a ball as if she was ready to disappear. His arm around her tightened as he silently reassured her. 

She went on; now that she was talking about it, the words all came spilling out. “I didn’t even want to go out with him. I just asked him because Poppy said I haven’t been out with someone in too long, and I didn’t know who to ask, but she insisted he liked me…” She huffed. “I suppose we can say she was wrong about that.” She buried her face in her knees. “I shouldn’t have asked him. I don’t know why I try anymore. No one’s ever liked me like that, why would that be any different now?”

She was spiraling, pushed off the edge by the events of the evening. Ominis knew this habit of hers, and sadness and anger anew washed over him at the thought that Larson had set it off. He said her name, repeating it until he felt her lift her head, facing him. “Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

She let out a sigh. “It feels true.” 

He shifted, finally taking his arm from around her to place his hand firmly on her shoulder, facing her. “You are worth all the love in the world. To assume you aren’t is preposterous. Frankly, it’s a wonder how everyone in the whole of Hogwarts isn’t dueling for the chance to court you. You are brilliant, kind, and know how to make anyone laugh—including me. Sebastian has told me on more than one occasion how beautiful you are.” 

His next words made his heart ache—would she hear the longing in his voice? Would he fully reveal himself? “There will be a day when someone deserving of you realizes all of that. They’ll come and sweep you off your feet, and give you all the love and commitment you are due. They’ll love you completely. Even the parts you’re afraid to show them. They’ll love you like…” 

The words died in his throat. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t disrupt their friendship, the careful thing they had built together out of some selfish need of being wanted by her. But… but she was across from him, feeling as if no one would ever care for her. He could prove her wrong. It didn’t matter if she didn’t feel the same—he’d deal with that later. All she needed now was to know. So he took a deep breath. 

“They’ll love you like I do.” 

The silence was suffocating. He wished he could see her face, read whatever emotion lied there. It was several long seconds later before her faint voice finally uttered something.

“Come again?”

“I…” He hung his head, hand still gripping her shoulder, trying to keep himself grounded. “You said no one has ever like you… like that. You’re wrong. You’ll capture many hearts. I know it, because you’ve already taken mine—even if it’s not one that you want.” 

He began to let his hand fall from away from her, but his eyes widened as she gripped onto his wrist. “What if it is the one I want?” 

Her words were hardly more than a whisper, and he could have sworn he had imagined it out of pure desperation. “Do you really—”

“Yes,” she said, laughing lightly. “Yes, Ominis. I mean that. Merlin, I’m an idiot. I should have just asked you, I’ve been wanting to for ages, I just never thought—”

He couldn’t stand it a moment longer. His hand reached forward, and before either of them had a moment to think, he was darting forward to kiss her. Even with his hand on her cheek, he missed, lips brushing on the side of her mouth as he let out a small noise of frustration. Any negative emotion washed away when a chuckle escaped her lips, the sound vibrating against his skin just before she pressed her lips to his. 

She kept her grip on his wrist as his hand traced its way from her shoulder to her jaw, letting him cup her face with both hands as he pulled her closer. The kiss was everything he expected it to be, and more. For countless nights, he had wondered what her lips might feel like, if they would match the warmth of her voice, if they would give him shelter just as her arms did, if they would make him feel alive just like every touch she gave him. 

Her kiss was not just warm—it was fire, flames running through every vein in his body, his heart pounding at the heat of it. It was not just shelter—it was home. The place he was meant to be all along. It was more than living. It was being reborn. 

When she pulled away, breathing hard, he knew he’d crave her taste for the rest of his days. 

She rested her forehead against his, letting their breath tangle together. “What would you say to coming to Hogsmeade with me?” she said. 

He grinned. “I’d say yes, a thousand times over.” 

[miloformula123fan]

okay like 2 months ago, I put out this moodboard, and @evans-dejong replied to it, and im gonna be honest that kind of inspired this whole fic

so

carlos sainz x male!royal!reader

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

carlos sainz x royal!reader

2022 Spanish Grand Prix

“AND George Russell has locked up at the final chicane and Carlos Sainz sails on through BRINGING HIM ONTO THE PODIUM OF HIS HOME RACE ON THE LAST LAP OF THE SPANISH GRAND PRIX. AND WHAT A RACE THAT WAS. Max Verstappen crossed the finish line first, followed by his teammate Sergio Perez, and rounding out the podium we have Carlos Sainz for ferrari.”

It had been a hard race, Carlos spinning in the first 8 laps. But he’d done a very good recovery drive, getting up to the podium.

Y/N couldn’t help but clap his hands as he saw a ferrari and a spanish driver on the podium from the back of the Ferrari garage. He saw himself on the screens, and flashed a winning smile. His mum looked at him with exasperated fondness as he hopped around waiting for the drivers to get on the podium, so she could hand the trophies over. He’d been looking forward to it all weekend, the previous highlight being handing off the pole position award to the other ferrari driver.

“And now to present the trophies to the drivers on the podium, we have Crown Prince Y/N, representing the Spanish Royal Family.”

Y/N could almost feel his hands shaking as he picked up the 3rd place trophy and prepared to hand it over. He ran himself through what he was supposed to do

‘Pick up the trophy, display it to the cameras, don’t drop it, first to the person closest, they’re 3rd place, hopefully you’ve picked up the correct trophy Y/N, then as you’re handing it over, shake their hand, congratulate the spaniard, pose for a photo handing over the trophy, and then walk back. Repeat for 2nd place, they’re the one furthest away, not a Spaniard, repeat for team, it’s the mechanic who looks hella awkward on the really small podium, and finally do it for 1st. Then get out of the way before they start spraying champagne.’

And it almost entirely went to plan. He had nearly kissed the Spanish driver on the podium, because damn he was hot. But otherwise it had gone to plan. 

Well, until, while trying to get out of the way and completing his task, he had gotten sprayed on the back of his new shirt. Damn.

He heard the cheers and yelling stop as everyone realised that he had been hit. Y/N snickered in his head at the thought that people were scared of him, worried that because he’d been hit by some champagne, that everyone would be executed. Instead he laughed it off, grabbed Carlos’ bottle and took a chug before wandering off the podium, laughing at the ruined shirt. His mother chastised him and fussed over him as he walked away laughing.

The Spanish ferrari driver was hot, sue him.

---

2022 Silverstone

“AND IN HIS 150TH RACE, CARLOS SAINZ WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX. HIS FIRST VICTORY IN F1”

Y/N could hear the cheers, the announcement was a little blurred as he hugged Carlos O, Carlos’ cousin and manager, after waving the spanish flag through a gap in the fence, yelling and cheering over the noise of the engines. There wasn’t a lot of celebration in the garage, as Charles, who was contending for the championship, had had a horrible race, but who cared? Carlos had won, at least Red Bull hadn’t won, they were still contending for the championship.

“And what a day for Ferrari, but they won with the wrong car!” Ted shouted into his microphone as the celebrations kicked on.

“I’m sorry?”

“Uhh, sorry to everyone at home we now have Crown Prince Y/N from the Spanish Royal Family. Now Your Royal Highness, what did you say?”

“Well first, my title is Prince of Asturias. Not this ‘Your Royal Highness’ bullshit that you’re trying to lower my status to…”

“Sorry, language for the kids at home.”

“Oh, says you, Ted Kravitz. Hi Kids, my name is Crown Prince Y/N, or the Prince of Asturias, and I’m going to give you a… what’s the word…unbiased view of the grand prix today. Charles and Max were struggling today. Then there was a safety car, and Carlos was given a better strategy. Now, keep in mind kids, this was because Charles was not having a great day. Then Carlos was once again screwed over by Ferrari strategists, however for once in his life he stood up for himself, and made himself a good strategy and won himself the race. His first race win, after 150 race starts. There is no wrong driver to win with for Ferrari, and Carlos deserved that win as much as Charles did. Thanks Tommy.”

“It’s Ted…”

Y/N waited in Carlos’ driver room for him to arrive back from the media. Carlos meanwhile had been told by his cousin that Y/N was waiting for him, and tried to pass off his impatience as excitement over the win. He had barely seen Y/N since the win, being celebrated with his team, but he had spotted him on Carlos O and Carlos Sr. shoulders, cheering with the other Ferrari engineers, and butchering his own national anthem, which was always fun to watch. But he hadn’t seen him properly, been able to hold him and scream and kiss him.

And he couldn’t wait for that.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he reached the door of his driver room. He could sense Y/N behind that door, actually he could hear him, chatting to what he assumed were his younger sisters and parents.

He slowly opened the door, pushing it with his hips as his hands held his water bottle and his trophy.

He watched for a second, not wanting to disturb Y/N, especially if he was saying something royal that he wasn’t supposed to hear. 

Y/N was lying on his stomach on the massage bed, his feet hanging off the end as he had propped his phone up against the wall. His feet were kicked up in the air, swinging backwards and forwards, as his head, which he was holding up by his hands, was bopping side to side as he talked to his family.

“Yeah, so just waiting for him to finish his post race debriefs and media and then he’ll be here soon, and I’ll hang up then, I don't want to scare Leonor again. By the way, Leo, how’s Gavi going? Feel like the last I heard was from some media article about how he wanted to focus on football and didn’t want a girlfriend distracting him, but I'm sure you’ve managed to persuade him otherwise…”

While Y/N was teasing his younger sister, he was cut off by  his (quite unmanly) screams as Carlos grabbed him from behind and hugged him to his chest, swinging him back and forth.

Once he had reassured both his family and the bodyguards who had burst into the room with their guns drawn that he was fine and Carlos had just scared him, he hung up the facetime call and snuggled in with Carlos on the small massage table, and admired the trophy.

“It’s pretty…” his hand hovered over all the details “like you mi amor.”

“...huh, most people would describe me as handsome rather than pretty, mi vida”

“Not me, you’re my pretty boy.”

---

Silverstone 2023

“Hello! You must be Lando!” Y/N walked towards the Mclaren boy and gave him a hug.

“You're the crown prince of Spain.”

“Wow, he’s observant eh Chilli?”

“Mate, i mean this in the nicest way possible, how the fuck did you manage to bag the crown prince of spain?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how I managed to bag the most attractive f1 driver?”

“Have you seen Fernando?”

“Good point. The most attractive Spanish f1… no no, that doesn’t work. Uhhhh, the second most attractive F1 driver.”

“what?”

"nothing darling, good luck for your race Lando and nice to meet you!"

---

Singapore 2023

“AND RUSSELL IS IN THE WALL. GEORGE RUSSELL IS IN THE WALL AND CARLOS SAINZ IS GOING TO TAKE VICTORY FOR THE SECOND TIME IN AMAZING CIRCUMSTANCES. SO FAR THE ONLY NON RED BULL DRIVER TO WIN A RACE THIS YEAR”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Y/N couldn’t help screaming through the ferrari garage as the entire ferrari garage erupted as Carlos crossed the line first. His bodyguards were clearly trying to reach him, but he didn’t care as he gave a massive hug to every mechanic and an even bigger one to Fred as he kept screaming his head off.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD YES! VAMOS YES!”

He was gonna lose it. Carlos had won a race. And this one for so many more reasons felt better than the Silverstone win. No disputes about team orders or who was the better driver.

Carlos had done it all on merit.

Once again he was hoisted up on the Carlos’ shoulders to horribly butcher his own national anthem. He could see his bodyguards trying to push through the throng of mechanics, but the mechanics were pushing back equally as hard. Well if his bodyguards couldn’t get through a crowd of overexcited mechanics, then maybe that was a sign he needed new bodyguards. First one’s who could get through a crowd when necessary, but also ones who understood that he could do what he wanted. He saw the cameras, flicking between the 2 of them singing to each other horribly, but he didn’t care. So what if these photos and videos were all over the tabloids tomorrow. 

Tonight was their night.

And nothing could change that.

nothing.

---

Spain 2024

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

Except this time, he was standing with the spanish flag around his shoulders, on the P1 spot, instead of the P3 spot as he was 2 years ago. His smile was bigger, and the cheers were louder, especially with Fernando Alonso in P2.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago. 

And after giving a constructors trophy to a confused team member, finally it was Carlos’ turn. Y/N smiled as he handed over the trophy, adoring the goofy grin on his face. He also hugged him, and Y/N only cringed slightly at the sweat that was now on his suit.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

He let out a very unroyal scream as he felt the cold champagne trickle down his back, turning around to the silence with Fernando having a cheeky grin on his face (this seems hella clunky). The rest of the paddock and the podium was frozen, as if worried that he was going to order Fernando’s execution. Instead, he held his hand out, as his mother passed him a bottle of champagne that he proceeded to spray straight in Fernando’s face.

And then as the champagne started to drain, Carlos leaned over and kissed Y/N square on the lips. First official show of affection, and as Carlos pulled away and flashed the cheeky grin at Y/N, he thought about how the royal PR people would be scrambling to confirm that yes, Carlos was courting the crown prince of Spain.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

Except this time, he was standing with the spanish flag around his shoulders, on the P1 spot, instead of the P3 spot as he was 2 years ago. His smile was bigger, and the cheers were louder, especially with Fernando Alonso in P2.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago. 

And after giving a constructors trophy to a confused team member, finally it was Carlos’ turn. Y/N smiled as he handed over the trophy, adoring the goofy grin on his face. He also hugged him, and Y/N only cringed slightly at the sweat that was now on his suit.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

He let out a very unroyal scream as he felt the cold champagne trickle down his back, turning around to the silence with Fernando having a cheeky grin on his face (this seems hella clunky). The rest of the paddock and the podium was frozen, as if worried that he was going to order Fernando’s execution. Instead, he held his hand out, as his mother passed him a bottle of champagne that he proceeded to spray straight in Fernando’s face.

And then as the champagne started to drain, Carlos leaned over and kissed Y/N square on the lips. First official show of affection, and as Carlos pulled away and flashed the cheeky grin at Y/N, he thought about how the royal PR people would be scrambling to confirm that yes, Carlos was courting the crown prince of Spain.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m

[genshinarchives]

I really enjoy those meeting their future child headcanons you did with Xiao, Chongyun, and Thoma. Could you please write a part 2 with Heizou, Gorou, and Cyno?

Gorou, Shikanoin Heizou, Cyno / female reader.

Synopsis: He meets his future child(ren).

Xiao, Chongyun & Thoma ver.

#GOROU

Gorou is in the middle of training his soldiers when he suddenly feels five pairs of small arms wrap around his legs from behind. He yelps, surprised that he didn’t sense the additional presences sneaking up on him; he didn’t even hear them approaching! Are they ninjas? When he looks down, he’s even more surprised to find... miniature versions of his siblings and himself latched onto his legs.

“I finally found him! This is him!” the oldest-looking one exclaims, beaming up at Gorou with a smile that reminds the latter of you. The other children’s excited reactions only puzzle him; is he supposed to know them...? By now, the soldiers have abandoned their training to crowd around their general and the young hybrids, whilst cooing over how adorable they are and how alike they look to Gorou.

Embarrassed, Gorou would usher his subordinates away by assigning every soldier present guard or patrol duty. Once he’s alone with the children who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, he would ask them where their parents are. Shock would be written all over his face when all five shiba inu hybrids point at him with their little bushy tails wagging, prompting him to point at himself as well as his ears stood upright. “M-me? You all must be mistaken! I don’t remember being the father of five pups!”

“But you are our tou-chan in the future!” the youngest-looking pup cheers as she climbs up to his shoulder, “Where’s kaa-chan? Is she healing people?” Even if Gorou isn’t exactly the brightest when it comes to matters outside of the battlefield, it doesn’t take him long to figure out that she’s referring to a certain military physician - you. The moment he connects the dots, his face would light up as his tail swishes energetically behind him.

The ridiculous idea of his children travelling to the past to meet their parents’ younger selves is buried under the thought of being your husband in the future. You and Gorou are already dating each other, so it’s only a matter of finding the right time to finally settle down with you as a civilian. He would ask them questions about what their life is like as a big family, and if his and your older selves are planning to have more children - because just five is not enough for him.

With a beam, Gorou would then scoop his future children into his arms as they all laugh at his obvious enthusiasm, before rushing off to find you. He has decided that you have to meet them and see that they’re as cute as you! “Don’t worry. It’s only five of you right now, but soon, you’ll get more siblings! I just have to convince your mother-”

#SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

Heizou raises an eyebrow when he comes across a young girl who doesn’t look like a resident of Watatsumi during one of his sight-seeing trips to the island. Stopping in his tracks, he slightly tilts his head to one side as he observes her closely. He’s not exactly sure why yet, but his intuition is telling him that interacting with her will yield interesting results.

With an amiable curve of his lips, he would approach the girl in question and call out to her whilst waving to draw her attention. The moment she turns her head, his eyebrows shot up as he finally gets a good look at her. She... has a strong resemblance to him. It could just be a coincidence and while he’d like to believe so, his intuition is telling him that she’s not just any other person he’d happen upon in his day-to-day life.

“Are you done staring and making deductions in your head?” she inquires, pulling him out of his thoughts. She spoke to him with a tone of familiarity, and this would prompt Heizou to ask her if they’re supposed to know each other. The young girl simply rolls her eyes before answering that she knows him because she’s his daughter, Shikanoin Maeko, from the future.

“Alright, I believe you,” he interrupts with a forced chuckle, “If I’m your father... then who’s your mother?” Maeko doesn’t hesitate in saying your name, and Heizou’s eyes widen as his jaw goes slack. He didn’t expect you, Kujou Sara’s most trusted aide, to be the woman he’ll marry in the future. It’s certainly a surprise, but it’s not an unpleasant one. Imagining Sara’s expression upon receiving the news of your engagement to him elicits stifled laughter from him; it must truly be a sight to witness in the future.

Unsurprisingly, Maeko’s response doesn’t throw him off. The detective has heard every excuse and story during his investigations, and as someone who seeks the truth, he’s willing to believe a claim as long as credible evidence is provided with it. “You say you’re my future daughter? Then tell me something only my family would know,” he says, grinning. That grin is soon wiped off his face when Maeko starts telling him about the thief he befriended as a child, who kept thinking of him until his dying breath. That... was something only he was privy to, and he assumed that his older self must have divulged his past to her for a good reason.

Heizou is aware that asking his daughter about the details of his proposal to you would ruin the surprises fate has in store for him - but he can’t help being curious. “So... how did I-” “I’m not telling you how your future self proposed to okaa-san. Solve that mystery yourself, Tenryou detective.” “... You may have my looks, but you have your mother’s personality.”

#CYNO

Cyno and Dehya are bewildered to see Candace walking into Aaru Village with a young boy. Cyno looks her straight in the eye for an explanation, and with a hesitant smile, she divulges what the boy had told her. “He says that he’s from the future, and that he’s come to see his parents,” she utters, earning incredulous looks from her friends.

Cyno, ever the straightforward man who wants to get things done right away, would approach the quivering boy who’s been hugging Candace’s leg. “Who are your parents?” asks Cyno. The boy doesn’t respond (most likely out of fear, he notes), and when he’s about to rephrase his question, Dehya comes up behind him and hits the back of his head. He frowns at her, clearly displeased.

“That’s not how you speak to children,” she claims before crouching down to the child’s level with a smile, “Hey there, I’m Dehya. What’s your name, and do you know the names of your parents?” Behind her, Cyno folds his arms over his chest as he drank in the boy’s familiar appearance from head to toe. White hair, (e/c) eyes, and a tanned complexion...

The boy seems to relax at Dehya’s friendliness and introduces himself as Zafir. He then eyes Cyno timidly, making the latter arch an eyebrow, before lowering his gaze to his feet as he says, “Papa’s name is Cyno... and mama’s name is (y/n).” Cyno, Candance and Dehya blink at Zafir’s answer, and there is a moment of silence as the women slowly turn their heads to the bewildered General Mahamatra, who is too stunned to speak for once.

He didn’t know how to react to Zafir claiming him as his father and you, Cyno’s close friend, as his mother. You’re a dancer who’s part of Nilou’s troupe, and he’s a matra who enforces the Akademiya’s academic integrity; although Cyno does nurture romantic feelings for you in secret, having a place in your future seemed only possible in his imagination. Not to mention, time travel? Despite his doubts, he could tell that his “son” is stating the truth - that he came from the future in which Cyno is married to you. Zafir’s eyes, which remind Cyno of your own, also testifies to the boy’s claims.

After getting over his initial shock, he would crouch down to Zafir’s level and say, “I see. It seems that I have other things to protect with my life.” A gentle pat on the head and a small smile from Cyno are all that Zafir needs to be reassured that the man in front of him is the same father who would fiercely protect his wife and son from harm.

Taglist: @coco-goat-milk @m3gitsune @melkxsh @irethepotato @frostines-blog @xphantasmagoriax @crunchy-princeles @nanamisflowerfield @dulcetamore @eliatae @stellaris999 @yuuki4646 @sinnyrants @chuusposts @xiao-bedo @chocogi @kiraisastay @mintydump

[digitaldiarystuff]

FRIENDS?

Hello everyone, this is my digital diary which I’ll pour what’s in my head. Hope you enjoy my writing and feel free to reach out to me!

— — — —

summary: you’ve met Jude through your close friend which put you in the same friend group but even though you’ve fancied him from the jump you’re also scared because you know how footballers can be

pairing: Y/N - Jude Bellingham

genre: angst / fluff

— — — —

“Are you done putting the decorations up?” your friend Chris asked. This was his christmas party and you were helping him add the finishing touches.

“Yeah I’m almost done. Don’t worry it’s going to be great.” you said reassuringly.

“I know but this is my first christmas in Madrid and I want everything to be perfect.” he said coming to the living room to see the final product.

You have known Chris since you were in high school, your parents knew each other and you were cordial until the end of high school when you both decided to move to a bigger city. You, for education and him to pursue his music career which has been great so far. He had put out 2 albums in 2 years and had big success.

When you were new to the city, you two bonded over the loneliness you sometimes felt and that prompted your close friendship. Even as he gained followers and became famous, he made sure you were with him. He invited you to events, referred to you as a sister in interviews.

“It’s going to be amazing!” you exclaimed as the doorbell rang. He went to open the door welcoming his friends which consisted of some influencers, producers and even one or two footballers who listened to him and invited him to games.

You hugged them as everyone was coming in and complimenting the party and you. Being one of the few people who wasn’t a celebrity, you’ve put a lot of effort into your appearance tonight. You wanted to look good.

“Hello, darling.” you heard someone say and you absolutely knew who he was. It was Jude freaking Bellingham. You’ve met Jude through Chris as well and you’ve formed a semi close friendship over the last couple months, though you couldn’t help but develop a massive crush on the guy from the day you’ve seen him. He was everything you’d wanted, handsome, nice, sassy, tall and funny but you always remained cool. Even though you sometimes felt his eyes on you for too long or his hand on the small of your back, you knew how they were and you couldn’t blame him. He’s in his prime and playing for one of the most prestigious clubs in the world, he could get anyone he wanted and you reminded yourself that a couple of times a day just to get him out of your mind.

“Hi Jude!” you said and hugged him.

“You look incredible.” he said while his nose was in your hair, the hug lasted an eternity before you decided to pull back.

“Thank you, you look great too.” you said slightly blushing. He had this kind of effect on you, he said things that wouldn’t normally make you feel things like this. He really looked amazing, though. He was wearing a black button up shirt since this was a special occasion but you knew whatever he was wearing didn’t matter he just was devastatingly handsome.

“Okay, let’s get this party started!” Chris yelled as everyone around you cheered including Jude.

It had been a couple of hours into the party and everyone was pretty wasted at this point. You were also a little dizzy but not too bad. It was going great with games and traditions and right now you were sitting on the couch between Chris and Sofie, one of your friends and playing cards when your eyes caught Jude’s. He was out by the pool and drinking alone, deep in thoughts.

You excused yourself and went over to him. He didn’t notice you until you were just in front of him.

“Don’t party this much, you might regret it tomorrow.” you said in a teasing voice.

“How can I enjoy myself if you’re far from me?” he asked in the same tone.

“I-you could’ve come to me.” you mumbled in a newly found confidence. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.

“You wanna sit?” he asked as he slides on the sunbed. You carefully sat next to him hoping you weren’t in his space much but on the contrary, Jude felt like you were too far away and gently placed his hand on your waist pulling you closer.

“This is better.” he mumbled, clearly more intoxicated than you’ve ever seen him. He was always a flirty person with you but this was next level.

“What were you thinking?” you asked suddenly remembering seeing him sitting alone silently.

“I wasn’t thinking of anything.” he answered but you just raised your brow.

“What? I wasn’t!” he said like a kid that’s been caught.

“I know you better than that Bellingham.” you said.

“Well, if you really know me, you tell me what I was thinking.”

“That’s not how this works!” you exclaimed laughing. He joined after hearing you.

“I was thinking about you.”

“What were you thinking about me?”

“I was thinking” he trailed off. You decided to wait and not pester him.

“…about you.” he confessed and looked up to your eyes staring intensely. It’s like he was trying to read your thoughts about his confession.

“Jude” you said, sighing. You wanted to believe his words so bad but seeing every footballer you know being a player, you found it hard to believe.

“Y/N” he said in the same tone, trying to get your attention to him.

“It’s true, I was thinking of you.” he tried again.

“You’re just drunk.” you chuckled slightly trying to lift the mood. You were in denial, hoping he would just stop this before you say how you feel about him embarrassing yourself because you were too close to saying how you always think about him as well.

“I am.” he accepted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

You gulped and your eyes closed for a second before you opened them again and saw him even closer than before. Your eyes shifted to his lips and he watched your every move carefully. Just as he was leaning in, one of your drunken friends yelled out to you stating she was going home before being sick. You turned to her immediately afraid that she’d realize what’s going on but she was too wasted to even see anything. You got up and went to her without even glancing at Jude embarrassed about being this afraid. It wasn’t like you haven’t thought about kissing him, it was just you knew he was drunk and didn’t want to be just someone for him to spend the night with and leave without caring.

One by one, everyone started leaving. It was just Chris, his situationship, you, 2 of his friends and Jude. The night had slowed down and you were just on the couch talking about life until Chris took his lady’s hand and took her upstairs before telling you to crash wherever you want to.

You started cleaning up before going up to the guest bedroom that was designated for you. You took a trash bag from the kitchen trying to empty plates until you felt another presence in there with you. It was Jude.

“Did they leave?” you asked, trying to make conversation. You were still pretty nervous about your moment out by the pool.

“Yeah.” he said shortly. Just as he was bringing the glasses on the counter he stumbled and nearly broke them before pulling himself together.

“You’re barely walking straight, just stop Jude.” you said laughing.

“No, I’m not!” he said offended.

“C’mon.” you said taking his hand in yours to help him balance, taking him to the guest bedroom. He drove there and there’s no way you were letting the starboy of football drunk drive on christmas.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked like a child.

“The guest bedroom, you need to sleep.”

He didn’t protest, just followed you but held your hand harder. Just then you realized how you were holding hands but didn’t want to make it awkward and pull your hand back.

You entered the room followed by Jude and sat him on the bed. He still didn’t let go of your hand. You tried pulling back but he didn’t let you.

“Jude, you need to rest.” you said smiling softly.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going downstairs to clean up a little and rest too.” you explained.

“Where?”

You actually now realized this is the only spare bedroom in Chris’ home.

“On the couch.” you said sounding more like a question.

“No you’re not.” he said making you sit down with him.

“Yes I am, we can’t fit in one bed.” you said terrified about the possibility of sleeping next to Jude. You already knew you couldn’t even relax just hold your breath the entire night.

“Are you calling me fat?” he asked, smiling.

“No, I’m calling you big.”

“I heard girls like that.” he smugly said. Of course girls liked it, especially me.

“Well, some girls do.”

“And you don’t?” he asked curiously.

“Jude, you’re wasted. Just sleep.” you said trying to change the subject.

“I’m not even tipsy Y/N. I’ve only had 2 beers.” he said like it was obvious.

“What-Well you looked drunk.” you said shocked.

“That was the only way to get you to pay attention to me. Look, you’re taking care of me.” he said motioning your intertwined hands.

“Well, that’s what friends are for.” you said looking down.

“Yeah, friends do that. But we’re not friends.” he said before leaning in and capturing your lips with his and kissing you softly.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Tell me if this is too much but could we pretty please get prompts 90,91and 92 together??

Lando and the reader are in a secret relationship and she thinks he just doesn’t love her the way she loves him and that he is embarrassed that she’s not a model or whatever.

They have an argument because some other guy asks her out on a date and Lando is like don’t go and she’s upset and says why not? She never gets to go on dates because Lando never takes her 💔

Truth is he loves her a lot and is scared that the media and outsiders will hurt her and hurt their relationship. 😭

send me thoughts/blurb requests (sfw & nsfw) for lando weekend

Lando was on top of the world, that much was clear. He and Carlos had finally managed their 1-2 they had dreamed about when they both drive for McLaren. Even though Carlos wore red on the top step of that podium, they had still done it.

He was grinning from the moment he got out of the car, rushing over to hug Carlos before he even took his helmet off. You could see it in his eyes though, the way they squinted when he smiled. He grinned as he pulled the helmet off his head along with his balaclava, his sweat-damp curls sticking out every which way.

He gave Oscar a hug, and cheered with the rest of his team. It was truly a moment Lando had been dreaming about for a while, and yet you had to watch it all unfold on a television in Lando’s Monaco apartment.

It was always hard when Lando traveled for work. Having to hide your relationship when he was around was hard enough, but seeing him travel to far off countries while he kept you cooped up in his apartment felt like a dagger in your chest.

You longed to be there, to share in these moments with Lando, but he was insistent that you stay behind, that you keep your relationship behind closed doors, away from the media, away from his friends, away from everyone.

You wanted nothing more than to live in that moment with Lando, to share in his happiness with him in person, in front of everyone. But he wanted nothing more than to keep your relationship locked away. You deserved someone who could love you publicly, someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to hold you in public, to share your affections with the world. You deserved better.

It takes Lando another few days to travel back home after Singapore, and he’s only got a few days before he has to travel out to Japan. He’s happy to spend what little time he has free before his next race at home in Monaco though, knowing you’ll be there to greet him with open arms and soft kisses.

He’s surprised to find his apartment empty when he returns though. He drops his bag at the door and walks further in, calling out your name. His room looks oddly bare, the bed perfectly made, a note resting on his pillow.

Lando,

I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t hide in the shadows because you’re ashamed of me, or ashamed of your love for me. Whichever it is, it’s taken a toll on me, and I imagine on you as well. I think I might be in some kind of love with you, but I can’t set myself up for heartbreak.

You did amazing in Singapore, and I know you’ll be just as great, if not better, in Japan. I wish I could’ve been there to experience that with you.

~Y/n

Lando’s eyes scanned over the page again and again and again, until the words were burned into his brain. Surely this was just a small blip in your relationship. Maybe he was being neglectful to you, but he never meant for this to come of it.

He forces himself to shower and change into a fresh pair of clothes. He lies in his bed alone, remembering just how cold it is without you sleeping next to him.

When he wakes up he finds himself holding your pillow to his chest. The scent of your shampoo still lingers on the pillowcase, pulling him into a false sense of security. He notices that he’s managed to sleep on your side of the bed, his body subconsciously searching for yours in his sleep.

He tries to call you, to text you, but you don’t answer him. He figures you need time, another day or two. But he’s only got one more day before he’s back on a plane to Japan.

He gathers up the courage to go to your apartment. He was always welcome, you told him, you even gave him a key, but now he feels like he’s a stranger. He knocks on the door, and his breath catches in his throat when you open it.

You’ve got a dress on, the white one with the yellow flowers on it. It’s the dress you wore on your first date. Well, the first time you shared a meal with Lando in his apartment.

You look confused to see him. “What are you doing here Lando?”

He searches for the right words, for any words really, but comes up with nothing other than “You look nice.”

You roll your eyes and walk back into your apartment. Lando notices you don’t close the door behind you, is it an invitation to come inside? He’s taking it as one.

He closes the door behind him as he walks in. He glances around, your apartment pretty much looks the same, save for a few photo frames he’s noticed now sit face down on their respective shelves.

“Lando, I really need to get ready to leave, so again, what are you doing here?” You ask as you look for a pair of shoes to wear.

“You wore the white strappy ones… on our first date.” He avoids your question.

You’re surprised he remembers such a small detail. You shake your head. “We never went on any dates. We sat in your apartment with takeout.”

“They felt like dates…” He mumbles to himself.

“No Lando. This,” you gesture to yourself “this is what going on a date is like. Getting ready to actually be seen in public with someone. To spend time together outside the walls of their home.”

“You’ve got a date?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I do.”

He’s at a loss for words. It’s been a day since you left him the note, how do you already have a date?

“My friend has been dying to set me up. So I told her she could.”

Lando feels something in his stomach turn. “Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” It has to be clear to you how much he cares about you, how much he loves you.

“Say it.”

He takes a moment too long to speak before you’re pulling your shoes on.

“You shouldn’t go on that date because you belong with me. We belong together. It’s me and you, not you and a stranger.”

“I can’t be with you if you’re just going to constantly hide me. I can’t live in the shadows anymore. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.” Your last sentence is quiet as you turn away from him.

“Not enough? You’re everything.” He reaches out for your arm and softly pulls you back to him. “You’re what I look forward to the most every week. You’re the reason I want to win races.” His hands falls further down your arm so that he’s holding your hand. “Y/n, I didn’t want to go public because I was afraid you wouldn’t like it. I was scared that it would be too much, having cameras shoved in your face, being followed around everywhere you go… I didn’t want you to resent me for the life it would give you…”

His eyes are welled up with unshed tears. His hand squeezes yours as he tries to keep hold of the one good constant in his life.

“Please, please don’t go on that date.” His voice cracks.

You’re quick to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head in your neck. His arms wrap around your waist tightly, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets you go.

You agree to give your relationship another try with Lando, on the condition that he doesn’t hide the relationship. He takes you with him to Japan, keeping his hand interlocked with yours as you walk through the paddock. He’s proud when he introduces you to the McLaren team, calling you his girlfriend with a grin on his face.

When he and Oscar both score second and third he’s ecstatic. Both gaining large points for the team is cause for major celebration in the garage. You stand with the team when he parks his car. This time his eyes search for you in the crowd.

As soon as he finds you he throws his arms around you. His race suit is warm, sweat marks are visible in some spots. His face is lined with marks from his balaclava and helmet. He looks beautiful.

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” You ask him as he hugs you.

He practically dives down to kiss you when he pulls away from your hug. You can hear the crowd cheering and cameras flashing, but it’s all just fuzzy in the background of Lando giving you the perfect kiss.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Tie

@jegulus-microfic May 29, Word count 646

Previous part First part

Regulus moved his things to the Gryffindor sixth years dorm room. James was ecstatic. He cleared a space in the wardrobe for Regulus to use and gave him some space to settle in. 

He took the others down to the common room. Regulus had apparently left his chest and enough things in his Slytherin dorm that it looked like he was still living there. 

Sirius plonked himself in Remus’s lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. He whispered something that made Remus blush redder than James had ever seen him. Whatever Sirius had just said to him James had no doubt he didn’t want to know. 

Since the rest of the house had been so welcoming to Regulus, Sirius and Remus had slowly been making their relationship known. They’d gone from simple hand holding to full on making out in an armchair and the Gryffindors had just gotten on with it. James wished they’d been just a tiny bit bothered, so Sirius wasn’t so bold with his personal displays of affection. Not that James was a prude or anything, Sirius was just obscene and Remus didn't stop him.

Regulus came back down once he was finished unpacking and promptly sat on James’s lap, mirroring his brother. 

“All done, love?” James asked as he wrapped his arm around Regulus’s waist. 

“Yup,” Regulus looked over at his brother and Remus. “Yuck, no one needs to see that.” He pulled his wand out of his robes and flicked it towards the embracing pair. A cascade of freezing water rained down on them. Laughter erupted around the room. 

“Thanks Regulus,”

“Nice one mini Black,”

A few of the older Gryffindors cheered him on. Sirius jumped up from Remus’s lap and launched himself on Regulus and James, shaking his head like a dog and soaking them as well. The laughter got louder. 

“Hey, Prongs, did you give him his moving in present?” Sirius asked as he wrung his robes out onto the floor. 

“Oh yeah, nearly forgot. Thanks for reminding me, Padfoot.” James picked up the flat box from the table beside him and handed it to Regulus. 

They all watched as he pulled the gold ribbon off the red box and lifted the lid. Nestled inside on black tissue paper was a Gryffindor Tie. 

“Welcome to the family, Reggie,” Sirius beamed at him. James felt his heart bursting with love as Regulus wrapped the red and gold tie around his neck and let Remus perform a drying charm on him. 

They spent the rest of the day just hanging out. Peter challenged Regulus to a game of chess. Sirius caught James’s eye and tried to hide a snort as Peter set up the board. James wasn’t sure what was wrong with Sirius, but he watched with interest when Regulus accepted the challenge. 

It wasn’t even close. Regulus wiped the floor with Peter in six moves. 

“Wow that’s impressive.” Remus said when Peter was gaping open mouthed at his fallen King. 

“That’s nothing,” Sirius snickered, “Reggie was going easy on him. I’ve seen him win in two moves.”

“What, that’s impossible.” Remus shook his head in disbelief. 

“Don’t underestimate Regulus, Moony,” James grinned at the back of his boyfriend's head as he started setting up the chess board again. 

When Peter finally admitted defeat, darkness had descended. Sirius and Remus had snuck off some hours ago to get food from the kitchens and returned grinning like idiots at each other and being very touchy-feely. James rolled his eyes. They must have made a detour to the come and go room. 

They’d just started on the mini treacle tarts when the first peal of thunder grumbled in the distance. All five heads snapped up and looked out the window as the sky was lit up by a bolt of lightning, followed again by another loud rumble of thunder. 

It was time. 

Next part

[cowboywritersworld]

Can I prompt (Face) Fem!Reader & (Heel) Damian are paired together for the mixed match challenge & have worked well together. They are being interviewed backstage & the interviewer points out the chemistry they share & wonders if there is anything going on between them. Reader & Damian laugh it off & reader tries to prove there's nothing between them by kissing him. Both try to play it cool afterwards but clearly the kiss sparked something.

Maybe we are lying to ourselves

General Masterlist | WWE Masterlist | Damian Priest Masterlist

Characters: Damian Priest, Reader

Prompt: (Face) Fem!Reader & (Heel) Damian are paired together for the mixed match challenge & have worked well together. They are being interviewed backstage & the interviewer points out the chemistry they share & wonders if there is anything going on between them. Reader & Damian laugh it off & reader tries to prove there's nothing between them by kissing him. Both try to play it cool afterwards but clearly the kiss sparked something.

AN: thanks for requesting, here you are! Hope you'll enjoy it! For this fic as well, I can come up with a second part, if anyone is interested. Maybe where after they win the final, they kiss better and admit they are attracted to each other.

The time the fan had determined they wanted to see you and Damian pair in the Mixed Match Challenge, you had been surprised. You are a face, while Damian is a heel, but you work so perfectly together.

You look as he pins your opponent, while you hold Charlotte back, to avoid her breaking the pin.

1... 2... 3! It's done. You are the first mixed team to advance to the final of that season of the challenge. You slid into the ring and the referee holds your hands in the air, while you take in both the cheers and boos of the fans attending that episode of Raw.

"Well done on keeping Charlotte out of the ring." Damian whispers to you as you both head backstage.

"That's my job and I'm pretty good at it." You reply as you high-five some fans on the way.

"So full of yourself." He huffs, shushing you to the back.

"Never as much as you are."

You tease him, following him until the interviewer stops both of you. She places herself between you both, a little behind, keeping the mic in front of you.

"I am here with Damian Priest and Yrn. Guys, you just advanced to the finals of this challenge. How do you feel about it?" She doesn't ask anyone in particular, but it's Damian who speaks first.

"We were put in a team together just by joke by the fans. Well... Here we are! Heading to the final match as the first team qualified! How many of you thought we could come so far into this challenge? Never underestimate us!" Damian looks always straight into the camera, moving around, his hands as well, while he speaks.

"We may have some bickering from time to time, but we work strangely good together. We won't stop here, so whoever is going to win the last semifinal, beware: we'll be the winners! You have no chance against us." You grin as you speak, looking from time to time to Damian, but you keep your focus on your part of the segment.

"Speaking of working well together..." The interviewer catches your attention once again and you both turn slightly to her. "Everyone sees the chemistry there is between you two each time you have a match together. It seems like you are perfect partners. Many are wondering if there is anything between you two."

"..." You are left astonished for a moment, not expecting such a question, but you are quick to answer. "Our relation is only workwise. There is nothing between us backstage or outside work." You laugh, playing it cool, while Damian follows you.

"Then how is it..." She can't finish her question, since you cut her off.

"Well, let us show you that there is actually nothing between us."

You feel slightly pissed off while you reach over to Damian, getting on your tiptoes - Damian being at 2 feet 5 inches be damned - to kiss him on the lips.

The kiss lasts not even one minute, the interviewer looks surprised, as much as Damian, but he smirks letting you lead that chaste kiss. Once you take some steps back, you avoid looking at Damian, looking at the camera instead.

"Our chemistry doesn't involve anything personal. Now, if you'll excuse us..."

You dismiss yourselves and go to your locker room, lightly touching your lips deep in your thoughts, raising an eyebrow as you feel Damian following you. You are questioning what you have just done, because instead of proving it meant nothing, deep inside your heart you feel it's not like that.

"You don't need to follow me, you know? The cameras aren't with us anymore." You try to act still cool, but you can't stop thinking about the kiss, wanting to feel those lips once more.

"You know we didn't need to prove that, especially not in that way, right?" He asks, grinning. "Kissing me like that, will make the fans talk about it, instead of have them thinking there is really nothing between us."

You blush a little, scratching your nape. "I... I acted on instinct. Thought we could persuade them somehow." You definitely hate yourself now, you definitely shouldn't have.

[whatawonderfulexistence--blog]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part IV

Happy Halloween everyone!! I'm so happy I get to share this all with you today, I was really hoping to get out an update for Halloween 😂😂 I hope you all enjoy, I love reading everyone's comments, thank you so much!! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: None, a fluffy evening with III

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, you're amazing and I love you so much ❤️❤️❤️

Part III - Part V

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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You stuck close to II's side as you made your way up to the front of the store. Who you assumed was IV peeked out behind III's shoulder, the taller man ushering him to the front. "He's very excited to meet you, he's just a bit nervous." II chuckles. "He has a tendency to get a bit worked up but I promise he's very nice." You step closer to him, a shy smile on your face. He bends down slightly, bringing his face a lot closer to yours as you lock eyes. His gaze was a lot softer than the others but still gave you that same warm feeling in your chest as he studied you.

"It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, a cheerful tone in his voice. "You guys were right, she is really pretty." What followed IV's statement was a mix of throats being cleared, eyes being averted, and Vessel quickly trying to change the subject.

"I see the two of you got a lot done already, what else do you need help with?" You giggle at their flustered states.

"It's nice to meet you too, IV. Everything just needs to be put away, III's been a very big help." He straightens up proudly at your compliment. You sat on the counter, the four of them rotating to keep you company while the others worked.

"I told you, you just take it easy tonight. We'll handle it." Vessel chuckles as you complain for what must have been the millionth time about how you should be helping.

"Well if you all insist on doing this at least let me cook you dinner." You counter.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that." He smirks slightly before going to help the others. Noticing you were alone prompted IV to jog over.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He asks sweetly. You move over, patting the spot next to you. He hops up with ease, even sitting down he still towered over you. "Your store's very organized." He comments, looking out to the other three as they worked, his heels bumping off the counter as he swung his feet slightly.

"Thank you, I try to run a neat ship." You giggle.

"I'm sorry if calling you pretty earlier made you uncomfortable." He shoots you an apologetic and almost bashful expression.

"It's okay." You smile, nudging his shoulder slightly. "I'm happy you finally came by, now I've officially met the whole crew." You joke causing IV to laugh. The four of them finished up quickly, before you knew it you found yourself smiling at the whirlwind of energy that filled your apartment.

"You need any help?" III asks as he leans against the counter.

"You've done more than enough, just relax." The two of you exchange a soft smile. "Also, thank you for fixing me up earlier." You return your focus to what you were cooking, hoping III wouldn't notice your slightly flustered appearance.

"No problem. How's the hand?" He asks as he holds out his own, wanting to examine it himself.

"Barely even feel it." Your breath freezes in your lungs as his fingers ghost over your skin. You glance up at him through your lashes. His blue eyes focused intently on the bandage he was readjusting. His gaze slowly trails up your arm to your face, your heart beginning to hammer in your chest.

"You have something just," he points to the spot on his own face. You attempt to wipe it away a couple times before he chuckles. "Would it be alright if I got it?" You nod. III's warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb slowly dragged across your skin. "There… beautiful." You couldn't help but blush, your expression causing III to breathe out a laugh as his eyes crinkle in a smile. You jumped slightly as the timer on the stove went off. III reluctantly pulled his hand away, you trailed after his touch, already missing the warmth he provided. "I'll let them know the food's done." He says before disappearing into the other room. It was nice having company for once. Instead of you having dinner alone, your dining room was filled with excited conversations and loud laughter. As you cleaned up that night you almost didn't want them to leave.

"Thank you for having all of us for dinner, that was very sweet of you." Vessel says kindly.

"It's the least I could do after all the work you guys did today." You smile.

"We're happy to help. You've been nothing but kind since I met you. If there's anyone we'd want to help, it would be you." 

"This apartment hasn't been this lively in a long time," you muse with a hum. "It was a really nice change." 

"Well… I have a feeling that this," he vaguely motions to your apartment. "Is going to be happening a lot more often." He laughs as he starts to head out of the kitchen. 

"Vessel?" He pauses. "Did you ever figure out why you think we were fated to meet each other?"

He shakes his head with a small smirk, "no, but I'm starting to get a pretty good idea." You trailed behind him as he re-enters your living room, the hushed whispers of the other three coming to a halt immediately. Vessel eyes them all with a knowing expression. "Alright, we should probably get out of your way. (Y/N), I will see you tomorrow." He bows his head slightly as he heads for the door. II and IV both say their goodbyes and follow him outside, leaving you alone with III.

"I'll be right down." He calls after them. III towered over you in the doorway, looking down at you with intoxicatingly beautiful blue eyes. He leans down to bring him almost face level with you, his forearm resting against the wall as he leaned in close. "Can I take you somewhere tomorrow night? Just you and me?" Despite how confident he was coming off you could hear the slight nervous tremor in his voice.

"What did you have in mind?" Excitement radiates off of him at your response.

"There's a drive-in I saw the other night, it looks like they have some sort of monster movie marathon tomorrow night… I think we'd have fun." You hear II call for him from outside.

“I’d love to go.” His hand slips into yours, tugging you the slightest bit closer. His thumb ran over your knuckles as his gaze trapped you in place.

“Goodnight, doll.” He smiles before suddenly pulling away. “Quit your yelling, I’m coming!” He calls down the stairs to an annoyed II. You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face as you watched them drive away. You grew nervous as the end of your shift ticked closer. Vessel and III slipped into the store right before closing as usual, III giving you a casual wink but not saying a single word. As they both stood at the counter his eyes kept meeting yours, a flustered smile finding its way to your face. The bell rings as Vessel exits the store, III quickly leaning in to whisper something to you. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” He says with a smile before hurrying out after Vessel. You wrapped your jacket tightly around you as you stood outside in the brisk night air. His truck rumbled up in front of you, he immediately jumped out to greet you.

“Hey III.” He sweeps you into a tight hug.

“You ready?” He asks excitedly. You nod in response, he takes your hand as he opens the passenger door of the truck for you, helping you inside. The worn leather seat shook in time with the truck's engine, the cab lit up in a soft yellow glow from the radio. III slid into the driver's seat, his eyes flashing to you as a soft smile lit up his features. He noticed you rubbing your arms, still looking perfectly content despite the weather.

“I brought a blanket in case you get cold, the heat in the truck doesn’t work that well, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.” He chuckles, your cheeks immediately growing warm at the statement. He fiddled with the temperature in the truck for a moment, nothing really changing before he gave up. He groans in annoyance, pausing to think of a solution. He looks over at you, eyes trailing over your much smaller form. He holds one side of his jacket open, beckoning you closer with his free hand. You slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into his warmth. "There, how's that?"

"This is fine." You stutter out, trying your best to hide your flustered state. You found yourself relaxing into him, his thumb rubbing your shoulder languidly, both of your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you wound through the collage of vibrantly colored leaves. "Thank you for asking me to come with you." You suddenly pipe up. 

"Thank you for coming with me." He responds softly. "I was honestly a bit worried to ask you."

"What? Why?" You ask in a tone of disbelief, a small laugh lacing its way into your words as you slowly start to relax.

"Some random man in a mask comes up and asks you to spend time alone with him-"

"Well you're not some random man in a mask, III." You cut him off, both of you sharing a laugh. You lean your head on his shoulder, "besides, I enjoy your company… it's just nice to have someone that I want to spend time with, I guess." You glance up at him with a coy smile.

"Well if it's any consolation, I think you're pretty great and I want to spend time with you too." You giggle as you feel him nudge your side. You pulled into the drive-in, the teenager in charge of admission was too interested in their cellphone to pay much mind to the man in the mask before them.

"You're all set, man." They wave the two of you through as they take the cash, not bothering to look up from the screen. You pulled in to find the lot nearly empty, a few cars sporadically parked as far away from each other as possible.

"Lucky us, we get a private showing." You say in a giddy tone.

"I'm sorry I can't go get you popcorn, Vessel already didn't want me coming to somewhere so public as it is." You were about to assure him that it was fine, if anything you could always run over to the concession stand to get the snacks, but III never gave you the chance. "Excuse me, doll." He leans over your lap to retrieve something from the floor, his face hovering centimeters from yours, you pressed yourself back into the seat. You weren't uncomfortable being this close to him, but the warmth from his body, the smell of his cologne, you were having trouble thinking. He grabs a backpack from the floor of the truck, setting it in his lap before pulling out various snacks you had witnessed him purchase earlier in the day from your store. You can't help but smile as he lines up each kind on the dashboard. "I wasn't sure what kind of candy you liked so I grabbed a few different ones."

"You're so sweet, thank you." Your eyes meet his, making you feel like all the air has been sucked from your lungs.

"I just wanted to make sure you had a good time." He explains softly. He reaches out, carefully taking your hand in his. 

"How could I not? I'm here with you." The night was perfectly still around you. The faint crackling of the truck's old radio and the slight chill from its sputtering heater were lost to you at the moment. The only thing that mattered in your mind was III; how warm his hand felt wrapped around yours, how your heart fluttered in your chest as his attention dropped to your lips. His head dipped slightly, his warm breath pushing through the mask to fan over your skin, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the black fabric. You squeezed his hand, letting him know that, whatever was about to happen here, you welcomed it. He hooked a finger into his mask, beginning to pull it away from his face when the speakers suddenly blared to life, startling you apart. Your hand pulled away from his, folding then neatly in your lap as both of you stared straight ahead at the screen. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird-"

"You didn't." Both of you fell silent at your reassurance.

"Can I still hold you? It's nice having you close." He admits bashfully. You nod, leaning into his side. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, his arm sliding back around your shoulders. The two of you sat completely engrossed through every movie; holding his hand in yours as the intense music swelled, giggling at the cheesy yet adorable special effects of 1930's cinema, the evening culminating with you struggling to stay awake as you cuddled into III's chest on the ride home. You sat up and stretched with a groan as you pulled around the back of the store. III's gaze darted anywhere besides you as he fidgeted with his seatbelt. "I had a really nice night with you." He smiles.

"I did too." Your hand slips into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe, next time, I can plan something." His eyes finally meet yours.

"Next time?" You could hear the excitement laced in his tone. "Yeah, that sounds great." The two of you sat there for a little while longer, neither of you knowing what to say, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

"I should probably head in." You say reluctantly. "Goodnight, III."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He responds. As you go to get out he gives your hand one final squeeze, bringing your attention back to him. "Wait, can you… this is going to sound really strange, but can you close your eyes?" You nod, keeping your hand in his as you allow your eyes to slide shut. You heard the soft shuffling of fabric before a warm pair of lips pressed themselves to your cheek. The kiss was very brief, you barely had time to process what had happened before it was over. But, it still managed to leave you feeling so warm. A flustered giggle fell from your lips as you finally registered the kiss, squeezing III's hand. "You can open them." You turn to find him smiling under his mask, memorizing the adorable expression on your face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You let your eyes wander over his face one last time before getting out of the truck. You jogged up the stairs, fighting with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock the door. You wave down to him as he pulls away. You lean against the door with a sigh as it shuts behind you, absolutely giddy over the fact you could still feel III's lips lingering in your skin. Thinking of the night with him your mind wandered back to the time you had spent with II, the soft glances and hushed conversations that caused your heart to thrum with anticipation. How you currently found a spark between you and both of these men. Groaning, you card your hands through your hair as you shuffle deeper into your apartment. There was nothing you could do but wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

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[in-another-april]

─ movie date | s.r

summary/prompt - spencer invites you to his apartment to watch one of his russian sci-fi films with him | fluff

warnings - small mention of burns

wc - 735

notes - this was inspired by me rewatching and falling in love with awkward early seasons spencer all over again 😭

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 You sink deeper into the brown leather couch as the alarm of the microwave rings out behind you. Tilting your head back, you watch as Spencer empties the freshly popped popcorn into a bowl. You let out a soft chuckle as you see him holding the steaming bag as gingerly as possible to avoid burning his hand, a practically inevitable occurrence whenever he prepares food, his clumsy nature almost never failing to bring a fond smile onto your face.

“Need any help?” Your question makes him look from over his shoulder at you.

“Oh, I got it.” He shakes his head before pausing. “Thank you, though.” He rushes to add with an awkward smile, hoping you can’t tell how painfully out of his element he was.

So far, you two had been seeing each other outside of work for a few weeks, but you had yet to meet up at either of your respective apartments. He’d like to think he presented himself as “cool and collected” as Derek had coached him to be when you first suggested the idea of going to his place for a movie date, but he knew he was done for as soon as you mentioned wanting to watch the Russian sci-fi film he had been eagerly rambling about on the jet. He finds himself struggling to even think about the way your eyes light up with genuine curiosity whenever he goes on one his tangents without his face heating up. You’re going to be the death of him, he swears.

You can’t help the cheerful smile that makes its way onto your face as Spencer finally sits down next to you, after some fiddling with the TV and disc. You think for a moment before offering the other half of the blanket laid on your lap to him. His face turns red as he stares dumbly for a moment before happily accepting his side of the soft material, sliding closer to you. He’s eager to start the movie, in hopes it’ll serve enough of a distraction so you don’t notice the blush on his face getting brighter from simply being in your proximity.

He almost forgets he’s supposed to be translating for you until he sees the expectant look on your face after the first few lines pass. He mutters a quick apology before clearing his throat and reciting the words as they come, voice low as to minimize the disruption to the experience as much as possible. As the minutes pass, Spencer feels his nerves calm and breathing steady as he finds himself slotted securely back into his comfort zone: rattling off information regarding subjects he’s passionate about.

That is, until he feels the slight weight of your head against his shoulder, cuddling up to him like it’s second nature. His body instinctively tenses up under the contact, halting his translations as he stares off into space, cogs turning in his head as he tries to understand how his mind can feel blank while simultaneously housing so many rushing thoughts.

You lift your head off him slightly, turning to meet his eyes. “Oh, I didn’t mean to make you comfortable, I’m sorry.” You say, cursing yourself for being too forward. “I can move-”

“No!” Spencer interjects quickly, cringing at how desperate it made him come off. “I- sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so, uh, I just meant to say…” The deep breath he takes only serves to fluster him more as it ends up being just a whiff of your perfume. “You don’t have to move, I don’t mind.” Is what he settles on, trying his best to read your expression as he stares up at you.

“Are you sure?” You’re not sure why you ask, but you still revel in the sweetness of his answer.

“I’m positive. I’d… prefer it, really.” He shyly admits, looking everywhere except your eyes. “O-Only if you want to, of course.”

He’s happy to see that answer satisfied you, returning to your position leaning against him. You don’t think it’s possible for your smile to grow bigger, but you prove yourself wrong as you feel him hesitantly wrap his arm around you, pressing his head against yours. He resumes his whisper translations, but you’d have to admit that the movie is lost in the back of your mind as you opt to focus your attention on the man sitting next to you.

[piratefishmama]

You're writing is godly. Can you take a shot at

09.  “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.”

Writing Prompts | No longer accepting new prompts

It was the first time in ten years that Steve Harrington had seen Eddie Munson in person, and it was from what felt like miles away in shitty seats up on the balconies, the only saving grace was that Eddie was being tracked like prey by the camera guys, each step, each sway of his hair, each manic, dimpled, toothy grin blown up larger than life on the big screens on either side of the stage. The rest of the band blown up on the ones in the back.

He wasn’t looking at the ones in the back, although the guys suited being up there.

“Steve… he’s uh… Eddie I mean, corroded coffin, they’re playing, y’know? In Indy? Dustin got tickets, but… well they’re not the best tickets, nothing VIP or close to the pit or anything, I don’t think Eddie even knows Dustin’s going, but… we could at least go and see him perform…” it’d been Robin that’d mentioned it, none of them had seen Eddie in person.

He kept in touch when he could with Dustin and his little adventurers, Lucas, Mike, and Erica. But he’d left Hawkins behind with nothing there to hold him back.

There could have been.

Steve knew there could have been, Eddie had told him the night before he’d packed his stuff and left, bore his heart to him in his backyard, hair haloed by the blue light that shimmered off of the pool, nervous but hopeful, he’d offered his heart on a silver platter and Steve… god…

He hadn’t known.

He hadn’t known just how much Eddie meant to him until he was gone, off to stardom with his band, leaving a possible life behind for something else. Could have, should have, would have, it made no difference in the end. Steve had said no when he really meant he needed time to work out his feelings, he’d shut down the possibility before it could grow, and had regretted it ever since.

Eddie had been gone by the following morning, he’d only said goodbye to the kids. Apparently there’d been a record deal offered at his last gig, and his choice depended entirely on whether or not Steve said yes.

Part of him wished he’d have been selfish, part of him wished he’d known his own heart before he’d stupidly let the rejection slip out, things would have been different… but then… Eddie wouldn’t have had this.

He wouldn’t have had a stage, an audience of thousands cheering for him in awe. He would’ve been stuck, in Hawkins, a place that still hated him… Steve was happy for him, truly. Happy that he’d made it, even if it meant Steve could never have him. He could stomp around the stage dressed in denim and leather and shred on a guitar in a way that made Steve’s ears ring but his heart happy, he’d never be tied down to a place that hated him.

He'd never be stuck where the past could haunt him. He could be happy even if Steve couldn’t.

The gig was amazing though, even if Steve stook out like a sore thumb, he’d done his best, wore a little eyeliner, mussed up his hair, he wore Eddie’s old battle vest with the blood stains still visible cause he’d never been able to get them out and Eddie had never taken it back, had seen Steve still had it after they’d won and claimed “it looks better on you anyway” he still looked like someone’s out of place dad, but he was surrounded by the party so, it didn’t matter. Nobody was paying attention to him, nobody was looking for him, Eddie wouldn’t see him from so far away, probably couldn’t even see the row in front of his face with the lights shining on him so brightly.

And yet near the end of the concert, while the band were wrapping up on their final song (before the inevitable encore the audience demanded of them, Dustin claimed it’d probably wind up being Upside Down, or Pariah, two songs he’d always claimed had been inspired by ‘his past’ from the bands last album, they were fan favourites.) A burly guy dressed in a black crew neck with a big white ‘SECURITY’ stretched over his broad chest, flagged him down.

Steve motioned to his ears, he couldn’t hear shit over the music, and could barely hear shit on a regular day, but that particular security guard, simply signed the words:

‘Not in trouble, come with me.’ confidently, as if he knew Steve would understand it. Only when Steve frowned in confusion and signed back

‘why’ did the guy thrust his thumb over into the stage’s direction. The band.

Steve, feeling suspicious, turned to look toward the party, only to find Dustin giving him a thumbs up, and Robin making shoo motions with her hands. Scheming little shits knew he wouldn’t think twice about attending if the seats were so far away. Would think it was safe, that he wouldn’t have to face Eddie. Face his terrible decision that worked out for one of them but not the other.

He wouldn’t have to find himself waiting backstage in a quiet room behind a door labelled ‘Talent’ because of course he’d go. His traitorous legs and heart would force him to go at the mere chance of seeing Eddie again, of seeing him up close, of talking to him, of the chance to fix a mistake he’d made years ago even if his new answer wouldn’t change anything between them. It’d been too long, Eddie wouldn’t still want him when he could have anyone.

If they had told him, he wouldn’t have to see Eddie, quietly (a word not many used to describe the man) enter, his back facing Steve as he closed the door just as quietly as he’d entered. His hair was longer.

The curls fuller, they reached down to his mid-back now and glistened with a mixture of product and sweat, Steve still wanted to touch, still mourned the fact that he’d never gotten the chance to.

“Y’know… When ol Dusty bun said he’d get you here… I wish I’d have believed him. I owe him 20 bucks now.”

“You bet on me coming?” Of course he did.

Eddie turned to face him, a small wistful smile on his cheeks that just hinted the presence of dimples. “Wouldn’t you if you were in my place? Steeeeve Harrington, at a metal concert? Pfft, seems a bit farfetched. You even dressed up too, shit, man, I guess that’s forty bucks. Vest still suits you more.” Steve let his head duck down a little, his cheeks warming under the mans gaze, unsure of the feeling within it. He didn’t know Eddie anymore…

Had he ever really known Eddie though? Had he ever given them chance to know each other outside of sharing trauma and comparing matching scars?

“…Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why am I back here, Eddie? Why’d you call me back here? Why not the party, they’re here too, they’d probably wanna see you too, it’s been years… why?”

“Ah. Dustin told me to, said I should have another go at something I tried years ago that didn’t pan out very well for me the first time around… has been chatting my ear off about it every time he calls… I guess I finally humoured him.” Something he tried years ago? Involving Steve? “Listen, Steve… I—”

Steve cut in, he shouldn’t have, but words just… had to burst from him driven by a flickering ember of hope, he had to, even if it wasn’t the path Eddie’s words were taking, he had to, with hope driving him on “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.” Eddie’s mouth shut, his head tilting to the side a little in uncertain interest “I didn’t know… I should have just told you, I didn’t… I wasn’t sure, shit, Eddie… I’d never… you—I’d never felt like… like that for a guy before… I didn’t know what it meant, I should have said—I should have told you that I just needed more time… that I wasn’t ready to answer but… but I didn’t want you to leave. I didn’t know you’d be gone by the time I woke up. By the time I realised I was wrong, you were gone.” He wanted time, but his words had come out wrong.

He’d stumbled through them like he stumbled through everything, struggled to get the right words out and they’d wound up wrong. So so very wrong. “And you didn’t think to call?”

“Heh, you were on your way to fame, Eddie and you didn’t exactly leave a number, Dustin told me you had a chance at stardom… why would I want to weigh you down? Where would I fit in in this life of yours, Eddie? I’m no one, you could have anyone.”

“Mmn, anyone. Even if the one I want believes himself to be no one?” Hope burned brighter, its embers brilliant and warm. “So… can I try again? Or was Dustin wrong?”

“Did you make a bet with him about this too?”

“Absolutely, I’d owe him two hundred bucks if he’s right.”

“Would it be worth it if I said try again?”

“God, Sunshine, I’d drain my entire bank account right into that little buttheads pocket without a care in the world if it meant he was right… i never stopped...” Eddie stepped closer, "I never stopped wanting... even though I wished for the longest time that I could stop... it's always been you, Steve..." now close enough to be within reach, his voice quiet but hopeful “so... is he right? Should I try again?”

“…Please try again.” This time… he wouldn’t be saying no.

[msschemmenti]

A Kiss to Make it Better

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Prompt: Reader is the school nurse and Melissa has a student who needs some stitching up after a scissors mishap. 

Warnings: mentions of blood and slight medical stuff

a/n: i havent written in so long so i’m trying to get back into it. I think i may have aged myself with the handy manny reference…but oh well. This is my first time writing for melissa schemmenti and this is not proofread :)

“Ashley, can you collect the scissors from everyone. Lunch is starting soon.” Melissa called over her shoulder as she wiped the board clean of the clocks she’d be using to teach her students. 

“Sure thing boss. I’m ready to get my eat on.” Ashley chirped as she finished fluffing her hair in the reflection of her phone. The women had been working together for a couple of months now and Melissa was really trying to accept the help the best way she knew how. Ashley was not her ideal candidate for an aide, but she’d straightened up a bit since Halloween and Melissa recognized that. But that didn’t mean she was any happier about her being there. 

Once Melissa finished cleaning her own area of the classroom she turned to her students readying to rally them into a line for the journey to the lunchroom. She had some leftover ziti waiting for her and she was ready for the break from not only her students but her aide as well. Since Halloween, Ashley had been banished to cafeteria duty, so Melissa always took advantage the time. “Alright kiddos, let’s line up. It’s lunch time.” The room filled with cheers and the scrape of chairs as the students shoved their chairs back under the desks as they’d been taught to do. Melissa did another once-over the room before nodding and heading to the door with the students following behind her. Ashley was playing caboose and was following dutifully behind all the children. They were mere feet from the turn into the cafeteria when Melissa heard it. 

“Miss Schemmenti, DeVon is bleeding!” The small voice called through the hall causing the redhead to come to a halt. 

“What?” She asked turning on the line and making her way down the line eyeing each of the children searching for the injured kid. It was toward the back of the line that she saw the student in question cradling his hand in his pocket in an attempt to hide the injury. “DeVon, what happen? Where are you bleeding?” 

DeVon, knowing he’d get in trouble opted to remain quiet and just pulled his hand from his pocket for the teacher to examine. As he did so a pair of scissors clattered to the floor causing all the other students to murmur and whisper. Melissa sighed heavily as her eyes fell to Ashley with a frown. 

“He said he wasn’t done yet…” She started causing Melissa to groan at the girl’s behavior. 

“Ashley take the rest of the class to lunch. DeVon and I are gonna go see the nurse.” Melissa ordered placing her hands on the younger boys shoulders and grabbing the scissors from the floor before turning to head for the nurse’s office. 

Now the consistent nurse was a new thing for Abbott, after Janine’s whole ‘handy-manny’ incident with the lights. They’d had rotating nurses up until then and Ava was forced to get a full-time nurse to be at the school at all times. It took them a while but they finally got one to stay, Miss Y/n. She started after the New Year and when it came time to renew her contract for the new school year, she was more than ready to sign onto the Abbott team. Melissa hadn’t had very many run-ins with her thus far, aside from their initial meeting in the break room one day toward the end of last year. And even that encounter was brief. But she’d heard only good things about the young woman and it seemed like now would be their first official encounter. 

Melissa and DeVon reached the door to the nurse’s office and the redhead knocked against the wood apprehensively. DeVon’s hand seemed to stop bleeding but she wanted to make sure it was cleaned and bandaged as soon as possible but she wasn’t completely sure that was the reason for her unease. Before Melissa could even question her nerves, there was shuffling on the other side of the door and a voice calling out to them, “Come on in, it’s open.”

Melissa pushed the door open leading DeVon into the small office and her eyes settled on a woman clad is the brightest pink scrubs she’d ever seen. The scrubs were as close to a highlighter as she’d seen, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. As bright as her clothes were, nothing seemed to be competing with the smile the woman was casting toward the two intruders. “Well hello there! What have we got here?” She grinned rolling over to the little boy with a smile before turning her gaze to his teacher. 

Melissa cleared her throat attempting to compose herself before speaking, “A bit of a scissor mishap.” Melissa said simple, mentally patting herself on the back for not stumbling through her words with the woman’s eyes on her. 

“Awe man, well how about we get that all cleaned up so you can head to lunch?” 

DeVon nodded and allowed the woman to lead him over to the bed against the wall. Melissa, leaned against the door and watched as she grabbed all the materials she’d need to handle the cleaning. The nurse worked quietly distracting DeVon from the pain and even let him pick out a bandaid when she’d finished the hard part. And as if the scene couldn’t get any cuter, she heard the woman ask a question only someone who really understood kids would as.

“Are you too cool for a kiss to make it better? It’s my secret weapon, guaranteed to make any injury heal faster.” 

When DeVon held his hand back out eagerly, Melissa couldn’t help the grin on her face as the younger woman placed an dramatized kiss against the small hand. “And you are all done.” She finished before turning her attention back to the woman against the wall. 

“Thank you,” Melissa said as DeVon hurried back to her side, practically buzzing to return to his classmates. 

“My pleasure Miss Schemmenti.” Melissa felt the heat rise in her ears at the nurse’s words. “Listen I know you’re both hungry, so go ahead and take your lunch. If you can come see me before you leave that would be amazing, just so I can log the incident,” 

“Of course, sounds good. C’mon DeVon, tell Miss Y/n, thank you.” Melissa prompted and the boy followed before they headed toward the door. Melissa gazing over her shoulder as they left. 

-

“Last nurse we had just wasn’t a great fit. Didn’t really care about the kids, kinda mean. We’re lucky to have Miss Y/n.” Melissa shrugged into the camera before heading back to her classroom.

-

“Oh I love Abbott! I moved to Philly at the start of the year and did some floating between hospitals while I waited for a position to open up in a school. I interviewed at a few places, but I guess I liked Abbott the most. There’s never a boring day in these halls.” Y/n smiled toward the camera. 

-

“There you are Melissa, what’s this I hear about your student stabbing himself with scissors? You know we don’t have any money for a lawsuit.” Ava said as soon as Melissa entered the teacher’s lounge. 

“He didn’t stab himself, and even if he did you’re asking the wrong person. Ashley was supposed to collect all the scissors before lunch.” Melissa groaned finally falling into her seat to enjoy her lunch. 

“She’s pretty expendable at this point. If anyone asks, she stabbed him.” Ava whispered before eyeing the camera suspiciously.

“Did you get everything taken care?” Barbara asked after watching watched her friend tuck into her pasta. 

“Oh yeah, we stopped by the nurse’s office and she got it all fixed up. I gotta stop back by there for the incident report or whatever before I leave, but she took care of it.” 

“Oh just adore her, I had a kindergartener have an accident last week and she was so embarrased but Y/n’s started keeping extra uniforms in her office so she got her changed and back to class before we even started the next lesson.” Barbara gushed with a smile.

“Oh yeah, I love Y/n. I got a pretty gnarly paper cut yesterday. Gushing blood everywhere, but she came to my classroom to patch me up and she even has those cute skintone bandaids. So inclusive.” Jacob added, walking to the fridge, catching Barbara’s praise and hopping on the train.

“I didn’t realize she was so popular around here. This was the first time I’ve really seen her since she started.” Melissa said eyeing the teachers in the lounge. 

“That’s because you have a tendency to steer clear of new faces.” Barbara reminded the red head. 

“Yeah, do you remember how long it took you to warm up to me?” Janine asked leaning over the table she was sat at with a teasing smile. Melissa, with her back to Janine eyed Barbara and the camera briefly before nodding her head to appease the younger teacher. 

“Anyways, I guess you’re right.” Melissa shrugged, “Plus I haven’t really had a reason to talk to her besides today.” 

“I think you’d like her.” Barb said stabbing at a stubborn piece of lettuce. 

“And why’s that?” 

Barbara simply shrugged her shoulders and settled the redhead with one of her ‘all-knowing’ looks, “I just have a feeling.”

Melissa gazed at Barbara, attempting to understand what she was suggesting, “Mmhm okay.”

-

“Knock, knock.” Melissa said as she crossed the threshold to the nurse’s office for the second time that day. 

“Hi! Thank you so much for coming back, I really appreciate it. Was DeVon okay for the rest of the day?” Y/n asked as she motioned for the woman to have a seat on the chair in front of her desk.

“Oh yeah, tough kid. Didn’t even cry.” 

“Awesome. I really just need you to sign off on the incident report and we can both head home for the day.” Y/n smiled grabbing a pen from a mug full of sparkly pens. 

“Sounds good, hon. Where do ya need it?” Melissa asked reaching for the pen and report across the desk. 

“Bottom left.” 

As the woman passed the items over to Melissa their hands seemed to brush against each oher’s unconsciously. The new contact startled Melissa and in her haste to pull her hand away the pen clattered to the floor rolling to a halt near the foot of the desk. 

“Whoops.” Y/n said as she peaked over the desk. 

“No worries.” Melissa muttered out as she bent over her knees to pick the pen up. 

“Oh be careful on your way up, there a bit of an uneven cor-” Y/n started but stopped as she heard the swear fall from the redhead’s mouth as she rose to sitting again. “-ner. Are you okay?” She said quickly rolling around the desk to examine the woman’s injury. 

“Oh, I’m fine. No need to fuss. It was just a lil bump on the head, I’ve taken worse than that from family.” Melissa said frowning as the nurse seemed to ignore her and continued fussing around her head. 

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have a concussion. Let me see.” Y/n said sliding her chair between Melissa and the desk. She pulled the pen from Melissa’s hands and waved in her face a bit, “Follow the pen with your eyes.” After Melissa rolled her eyes, she followed the pen as she was asked. “Any pain, nausea, dizziness?”

“No, none of that. I’m fine Y/n, I promise.” Melissa said fixing the younger nurse with a pointed look, practically daring her to ask another question. 

“Fine, I’ll stop. I just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.” Y/n sheepishly said handing the pen back to Melissa to sign off on the report. “Wouldn’t want to have to do another incident report.” 

Melissa shook her head softly before handing the paper back, “That’s for sure. Anything else?” 

Y/n gazed at Melissa tentatively before leaning in to lay a light kiss to her head, “A kiss to make it better.” 

Melissa’s cheeks heated instantly and ducked her head to hide it from the young nurse. She didn’t move to stand until Y/n did and she grabbed her purse and jacket quickly, trying her hardest to pull herself together. By the time she’d found all of her things, she felt ready enough to meet Y/n’s eyes again and when she did, her eyes were already on her. Her cheeks heated again, this time less aggressively. “Thanks, Y/n. Have a good night.” 

“You too Melissa. Come back to see me, if you suddenly forget the name of one of your guys or something.” Y/n smirked with a wave sending the older teacher out of the school fighting a goofy grin and laugh.

-

“She’s nice.” Melissa spoke to the camera before she turned and headed for the parking lot.