#Quarantine day number.... I lost count
Note
do you take requests? if so, I’d like to formally request reader comforting Tony and just showering him in praise because he truly deserves it and we never see him get treated like that in the movies
it can end with smut if you’d like, up to you 🫶🏻
I wrote this with my friend purplefeathersandblackleather in mind, to be honest. I wanted to write something they would appreciate, and this prompt fit perfectly with what they hinted they'd like. I am pleased to have written it and I'm sorry for any offense that may have been taken.
Summary: Tony Stark was a broken, angry man after he survived his snap to save the universe, but you've brought him back to life slowly, carefully, lovingly. He comes home with bad news after a meeting with his doctor, and you offer him as much comfort and encouragement as you can.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, toxic anger, mentions of amputation (story is set post-Endgame, Tony lives)
Pairings: Tony Stark/GN!Reader
Square Filled: Cuddling
Word Count: 3,171
Build Me a Cocoon So I Can Crawl Inside Your Love
Tony’s back from the specialist’s appointment he didn’t want to let you come along for, and he looks really discouraged. The gamma radiation damage had required an amputation above the elbow. It was a strategic choice, designed to offer the best possible outcome for prosthetics. The problem is, it hasn’t been healing well enough to be fitted yet, and by the look on his face, that’s still the case.
Every time he goes in to be assessed, the fitting date is pushed back, and Tony comes home feeling some kind of way. This time he’s sad, resigned even, which you suppose is better than when he was angry and ready to burn off enough flesh to start over. Tony Stark’s righteous anger is hard to refute, but his sadness? It breaks your heart.
You’d met Tony after the heroics, after the messy divorce, after the custody battle. He was never a man who knew how best to heal, and healing the whole universe of its colossal loss was meant to kill him. When it didn’t, he… didn’t handle that very well.
If you had been a home health nurse, one of the court-ordered psychologists, or even among the number of Morgan’s many home tutors (the daughter of the savior of the universe was too valuable to go to regular school, one of the things Pepper and Tony had fought over, with Tony on the side of ‘I know what boarding school and isolation does to a rich kid, you cannot do this to our daughter.’ He’d lost.), Tony would never have given you the time of day. He wants nothing at all to do with anything from before, not even by association.
No, you’re an artist. He’d run into you completely by accident on one of the worst days of his new life, though the events did end up creating an accidental bond. In a bid to completely revamp his life, Tony had been spending time at national parks, and, woefully unprepared for the heat, he’d stumbled into your day camp set up. You’d fed and watered him, but then he’d had a phantom pain attack, and in response, an attack of temper.
“-- not expect to spend the rest of my life in this much fucking PAIN!” Tony had roared, his remaining hand scrabbling at the knot made out of the empty bottom half of his right sleeve, trying to untie it. You’d come over to help, and in blind frustration, he’d shoved you away, probably remembering someone else, someone who made him feel guilty for being angry.
You’d fallen back into your easel, your ass sliding across your unfinished art, ruining many hours of work.
There was no way you wanted to make things worse for him-- after all, he was the reason you got some of the people you loved most in the world back! --so you’d tried to minimize the damage. They were only things, after all, and you could recreate what you lost. The two of you had quarantined yourselves at either side of your camp, each tending to your own ‘wounds.’ In all honesty, you’d expected him to walk off, but he hadn’t.
An indeterminate number of minutes later, after you’d cleaned everything up and were trying to decide how best to carry it back down to your car, Stark’s left hand thrust into view. He was holding a piece of paper, a receipt, it looked like, with some information scrawled onto the back of it.
“Figure out how much that all cost and I’ll reimburse you. Send me a message on that. It’s private, so,” Tony had heaved a sigh, then continued, “--don’t share--”
“Are you kidding?” you’d said, covering his shaking hand with yours instinctively, to steady it. “I wouldn’t dream of making your life worse, after all you’ve done!”
“Please.” You can still remember his voice, how weary he’d sounded. “No Thanos.”
“Yeah, I’m with you there. Fuck that guy,” you had blurted. “I meant your inventions, the prosthetics! Not just that, but in three months you’ve revolutionized the entire industry, created a whole new sweat-wicking fabric-- can I ask you?” You’d turned around, still holding onto his hand like a complete idiot, too excited to realize you were holding him physically captive. “Is it the same stuff you came up with for Banner? Because that is just genius-- though, I guess I don’t need to tell you that! You’ve always been a genius. I bet you have fifty hard drives full of that kind of stuff, really useful inventions, but people like Obediah Stane and the jerks in the army weren’t ever willing to listen.”
Tony had just blinked at you, a tiny, molecule-thick smile forming on his lips. You knew he’d been in self-destruct mode for months, but impossibly, you did not choose that moment to keep your mouth shut.
“I’m sorry you’re in such pain still. I follow tech news but don’t know much about the actual process, but that’s even more amazing, you know that, right? Pain saps creativity, and so does sadness. You’ve done all that while you’re hurt and miserable? True hero, I swear it.”
“Are you for real?” he had asked, his face a mix of consternation and reluctant happiness. “No one put you up to this? Rhodey?”
“No offense, Mr. Stark, but if War Machine flew my ass up here to make you feel better, do you think I’d have the guts to tell you that?”
It’s been ten months, the first six of which had been full of affectionate-antagonistic messages sent back and forth, sometimes with large gaps. You hadn’t wanted to take payment, he’d insisted, and you’d both found creative ways to either send money or send the sent money back, right up until the time he’d found out you were about to become homeless.
Tony Stark had moved you into his house. He’d risked the headlines, the speculation, the condemnation, and done it anyway. It didn’t feel like billionaire behavior at the time, and it still doesn’t now that you’re in the clandestine relationship the media speculated about. It felt like something someone does because they love you.
You’re not sure you’ll ever get over that. You don’t want to.
Even so, he’s hard to live with sometimes, even especially on days like this. You almost miss the anger. His attitude today feels like resigned, miserable acceptance, the thing he’d already gone through when he’d lost custody of Morgan to Pepper. You two had already hashed that out, and he’d agreed he wasn’t any kind of parent, might not be for a while. He’d tried to say he wasn’t any kind of partner, and you’d spent a few nights specifically proving that was bullshit.
Sometimes you want to scream at the whole world. To you, Tony Stark is the best of them, because he didn’t have an unassailable moral code. He hadn’t been a model of perfect humanity, and he still isn’t. And still he’d saved everyone. He’d saved people on planets ‘hitherto undreamt of,’ to quote an interaction he’d be upset you’d found out about. You’d thought about trying to rehabilitate his relationships with the people from Before, but it’s going to take a few more years of love, affection, and encouragement to get him there.
It used to be one step forward and four steps back, but now it’s more the reverse. He’s thriving, and you know it’s because he’s getting to hear the good things first, instead of constant critique.
“You’re too quiet,” Tony says from the couch.
“I was gathering rose petals,” you lie. It’s a running joke between you, but one of these days you’ll actually do it, set up a bath or something, knock his socks off.
“Please say it’s for some kind of mind-numbing tea that lets me skip forward a few days,” he groans, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I need the stronger painkillers. I know I said I wouldn’t--”
“Hey, hey,” you soothe, coming over with the pills already in hand.
Tony makes the same face he always does when you anticipate his needs. It’s surprised, pleased, even confused, but the percentages have steadily changed to be more pleased, less confused, and almost never surprised anymore. That’s progress.
You sit on the arm of the couch, next to his residual limb, and he frowns up at you.
“Don’t think I don’t notice that you keep doing that.”
“Do what?” You know, but you want him to address it.
His glare is sexy as hell, but you push your desire back and focus on his emotional state. In your head, you’re cheering him on, and maybe he can feel it, because he says, “I can’t touch you with my hand over there. Not without twisting around.”
You run your hand through his hair to soften his reaction to your response, and thrill at the rumbling ‘mmmm’ sound he makes. “Because I love all of you. If I don’t shy away from your pissy attitude when you’re an entire grump, I’m not going to shy away from--”
For the first time since you’ve been together, he reaches out with his right arm and sweeps you off of the arm of the couch and onto his lap. You try not to react, try not to show how important the moment is, but Tony’s looking right at you, and he can tell something’s up.
“Really?” he says, shaking his head in confusion like you’re some sort of bizarre cryptid.
“You never touch me with your right side on purpose,” you say carefully.
He leans down to kiss you, and it’s not a lust kiss, it’s gratitude, and something about it is sweetly calming. You can tell he got bad news today, but he’ll tell you when he’s up for it, and until then, you can show him he’s loved. When the kiss ends, he leans his head in the direction of the bedroom, and you nod.
It’s mid afternoon, but the blackout curtains on the windows lend an air of evening finality to the room, which you maintain by putting on a small, dim lamp by the bed. Tony changes out of his formal clothes while you watch appreciatively, and when he’s in his sweats, he walks over and lets himself fall onto the bed.
“Fuck,” he says. “Would it be crazy to just--”
“Sleep?” you finish with him. In response, Tony hugs you to him, and you kiss his chest. “Alarm?”
“No, I’ve figured out you’re mostly harmless by now,” he jokes, the words broken up by a ferocious yawn.
The two of you wake up in a jumble. Tony’s rolled over and thrown his right leg possessively over your hip. He’s awake, as it happens, and when you meet his eyes, he gives a little tug of his left arm, which you’ve been sleeping on. The two of you adjust, which mostly means you end up facing each other, each on your own pillow pile.
“Did the nap help any?” you whisper.
“Always and never,” he says back, and you get it. Some things just… stay broken.
Girding yourself mentally for a negative reaction, you reach up and set your left hand against the spiderweb of scars on the right side of his face.
“I have wanted to say this for months, but every time I thought about it, I recognized that you were too hurt, too full of distorted, hateful thinking to accept it.”
He breaks in, his wry expression undergirded with iron. “You’re so sure I’m ready to hear you now? After the news I got?” You can feel the tightness to his jaw under your fingertips, and you lean over to kiss it away. The way the tension eases almost as soon as your lips brush against his skin is answer enough.
“Yes.” You slide your hand down to rest against his chest, partly to feel the steady beat of his heart. “Your father did too little too late, and it’s okay to acknowledge that.”
“You’re starting there? I need a drink,” he teases, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, and his leg doesn’t tense up like he’s ready to get up and run away from what you’re saying.
“Hell yes I’m starting there. You watched me try to live up to my friends’ expectations, do you remember what you said?”
His lips twitch with reluctant amusement. “I said ‘those fuckers want to make you into the friend they want, not the friend they already have.”
“Exactly.”
“Point taken,” Tony grunts. “Next?”
“It’s not your fault that you made things that were misused by people with shitty intentions.”
He turns in bed, shifting so he can lay on his back. You cuddle up, rest your head on his shoulder. “And when those people were the government?” he asks.
“What’s the alternative? Watching them self destruct with Hammer’s shit? When you saw the weapons dealing get too far, you cut it off. You lost a ton of money. You gotta let that go, Tony. You were misled, you lived the life you thought you were meant to, right up until you didn’t.”
“Noted.”
You skip over some things. They’ll keep, and the last thing you want to do is have him sit there worrying about what you’re going to say next.
“Last one for now: that thing with the nuclear warhead and the Chitauri is the most heroic thing you’ve ever done,” you say, scooting impossibly closer. He’s gonna challenge this one.
Tony’s scorn as he turns his head to look at you is palpable, as expected.
“Hear me out: it was amazing that you built the suit for the stones, ok? But you had time to figure that out. You decided about that ahead of time. You had the choice. But the nuke? You just worked on instinct. Do you understand how amazing that was? You knew you could do it and you did it-- and you were afraid. You were terrified, Tony. That’s heroism.” His jaw is working like his teeth can’t settle against each other, and you run your fingertips through the too-long hair spilling over onto his forehead. “You also sat through that even though you wanted me to shut up.”
“True.”
“You want to tell me more about your day?”
“Not even a little bit,” he grins, but you start rubbing comfort along his chest, kissing his shoulder, and he sighs. “They’re going to take more off. Reset the stump, basically. They say that will give it a better chance of actually healing, so I can end up with something I can actually do something useful with.”
“You’ve got a million ideas for prosthetics for your suit, don’t you?” you guess. “It dawns on you that this is the issue. He hasn’t been himself without the fucking Iron Man suit, because even though it’ll conform to him, it’s not pain free until his arm heals. Tony’s been knocked back to larval form for over a year.
This whole time you thought he wasn’t doing anything with the suit because it nearly killed him, because it reminds him of Before, but that’s not it at all. Tony Stark’s suit has always been his saving grace, and he hasn’t really been himself without it.
You extricate yourself and sit up. “Holy shit.”
“Now what?” he says, vulnerable, irritated.
“This is it, this is the thing we’ve been waiting for. When did they say they’re going to do the surgery?”
“You’re excited about this?”
You stand up, too full of energy and excitement to stay still. “Tony, you’re not seeing the big picture! You’re, you’re…” You light on it, a remnant of the very few visits he still has with Morgan. That light at the end of the tunnel is so distant as to be physically painful, but you go for it, because he needs this hope, and so do you. “You’re like a cross between the seventeen-year cicadas and the Very Hungry Caterpillar, Tony!”
He’s shaking his head, sitting up in bed, hand going to massage his stump, brows furrowed.
“The suit! You’ve been exiled from it, right? Because it hurts. It hurts to leave your most vulnerable part exposed and unarmored, and the effort it takes to be the old you long enough to code it to account for what’s missing hurts too. It’s been symbolic, all this time, right?”
His left hand is fisted in his lap, and his jaw is tight, but Tony nods.
“You’ve been buried in the ground without it, it’s the only place you’re safe.” You’re probably pushing the metaphor too far, but you love this beautiful, glorious genius, and it’s not your fault you weren’t smart enough to figure this out before. “You had to heal your heart first, in order to have enough physical capital to heal your arm. You had to be willing to give something up for both-- your privacy, your right to avoid being vulnerable around someone else. Literal inches of the precious amount of arm you have left.”
“Breathe, will you? You’re turning purple,” he teases. It’s a deflection, but a gentle one. You can tell he wants you to continue, even if he can’t bring himself to admit it.
“It’s almost time to come up from the ground, Tony-- and honestly? I think if that arm of yours took less time to heal, you might actually have trashed the rest of your suits. You needed the time. And now, you can turn into a fucking IRON BUTTERFLY. You can already make that suit do anything. Fuck actual prosthetics-- as soon as you figure out the best way to pad out your stump, the sky’s the actual--” you break off and tear up.
Tony gets up, comes over, pulls you close. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you--”
“You haven’t flown. Since you snapped. You love to fly.” You’re fucking inconsolable. Tony’s toxic fury has led you to compartmentalize everything about his life Before, but it’s part of him, and if you’d have just made those connections earlier--
Tony’s got his hand on your face, walking you back to the door of the bedroom, and now he’s kissing you. It’s tender, forgiving, and despite yourself, you cling to him, your guilt slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you try to grip it.
“Goddamnit, Tony!” you whisper when he shifts his lips to your cheek.
“You called me a butterfly. This is self defense.”
You sniffle defensively. “You’re a beautiful butterfly, Tony. An Iron Monarch.”
“Not yet, I’m not. But you’re going to fucking drag me there, aren’t you?” He sounds pissed, but for one of the first times since you’ve known him, it’s not a toxic anger. It’s the kind of angry you get when you’re loved so much you’re given what you need, not just what you want.
“You’d better fucking believe it,” you say.
#tony stark x reader#avengersbingo#tony stark x gn!reader#hurt/comfort#tony stark imagine#tony stark x you#iron man x reader#iron man x you#tony stark#iron man#mcu fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#iron man x gn!reader
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Quarantine
Harry Hart x Reader
Warnings: A little swear word.
Word Count: 1,345
A/N: Surprise? I’m back again with another story! Started writing this about two weeks in after the world started to shut down. Maybe I should’ve put that as a trigger warning. To some, the lockdowns and the pandemic may be traumatic. Is it too soon to write about the pandemic?
So, if you're following me on Twitter, you probably know that I've had covid once again. I tested positive on the antigen test after I experienced headaches and colds, and then I lost my sense of taste the day after. I think that pretty much confirms the accuracy of the test. My symptoms are mild and have improved since. I'm on my 5th day of isolation today. Thank you for the get well wishes! Much appreciated.
The title might sound boring, but I hope what I've written is not.
"I'm going to have to require you two for quarantine. We have to make sure you weren't infected. As we speak, both of your places are being prepared. But, you two are going to have to pick who's flat you’re going to stay at for 21 days. I need you two to look after the other, and support each other while in isolation." Merlin said as if he was giving you two a mission brief through the screen.
Your mission overseas went well. However, with the rising number of cases of nCoV all over the world, Kingsman couldn’t risk an infection within the agency. Even if they’re stocked and well-equipped to handle a case or the quarantine of their agents, they deemed it would be better for your overall health to stay at your own home, or whichever would be decided.
You opened your mouth to try to say something but Harry beat you to it. "I think it would be best to stay at (Y/N)'s place." He suggested.
"(Y/N), do you agree?" Merlin asked you.
"Yeah, sure." You haven’t thoroughly thought about this, you just agreed because it seemed like the proper answer at the moment.
"Very well then. I'll have your things prepared, Harry. Anything you might need out of the usual aside from your clothes, toiletries, electronics, books?"
"Let me think about it. I'll put it on the list if any. Thank you, Merlin. I'll be in my room packing a few of my things." Harry said to you and to Merlin, then he left.
"Merlin, I think it'll be better to convert the room I use as my home office for Harry's room while he's there?" You asked although it was more of a suggestion.
"I was meaning to ask you that. I'll finalize the furniture orders.” You could hear his keyboard clacking, “And done. How about you? Do you need anything?"
"Uh, I lost my yoga mat. I think I'll need one."
"Added to the list. Anything else?"
"Let me think about it too. I'll ring you if I've come up with something. Thanks, Merlin, you're the best."
As you walked back to your room inside the Kingsman mansion, you realized you were not exactly fond of the idea of having to live with Harry for weeks. You’re not used to sharing your space with someone. Harry would essentially be moving in. He’s probably not a bad roommate though, you just know it’s going to be a huge adjustment, especially with the fact that both of you aren’t allowed to go outside for weeks.
It took the whole day, but considering the norm outside of Kingsman, the furniture and other essential deliveries were fast. Your flat was spick and span, and your home office, Harry’s room, for the time being, was set up as if he’d been living there for quite a while.
You unlocked the door and welcomed Harry to his new temporary home. You gave him a little tour of the place, though there isn’t much to see. The last stop of the tour is his room, and you left him to get settled.
“Thank you, (Y/N).”
The next thing you did was take a shower to wash off the day. You were poked and prodded by the Kingsman staff in personal protective equipment while waiting to be sent home. Both of your and Harry’s lab results are normal, but it’s not enough assurance that none of you caught the virus.
Merlin sent you home with a feast of takeout food for you and Harry, knowing you’re both exhausted to cook on your first night in quarantine. It’s almost unbelievable he’s human with all that brainpower to think of everything and then execute those things.
After dressing in your pajamas, you went downstairs to reheat the food, but Harry had the same idea. He was already in the middle of setting the table. “Dinner would be ready in a few m–“ the ding of the oven interrupted him, “–oh, moments.”
You were sat across from each other at your 4-seater dining table. Although this was your flat, it felt foreign to be in it with Harry. You’re not exactly close to him and have never hung out with him outside of Kingsman, you get to train and sent on missions paired up together, but you haven’t really bonded with him on a personal level. Now suddenly, you’re living with him.
There was a little small talk, including agreeing on how good was the food, “I have to ask Merlin where he got this because this is good,” you said. “Just don’t tell him that it was good, otherwise he’d say that he’s the one who made it.” And you shared a laugh.
Harry would’ve also done the dishes had you not insisted it should be your turn. If you had to pry the plates off his hands, you would. Besides, there’s still plenty of time for him to do the dishes as he pleased. Thankfully, he let you do it without a fight.
The next morning, Harry was already up before you were. When you arrived downstairs, everything was already set on the table. He was probably reading the morning news on his iPad.
“Good morning. Time to eat.”
“Sorry, have you been waiting long? You should’ve had breakfast ahead without me.”
“Nonsense.” He then poured you a cup of tea and you smiled in return.
The rest of the breakfast went by uneventfully, by now Harry has caught on with the division of tasks, but it’ll be better to talk with him about this just to be clear.
You both got separate instructions from Merlin and had to do a daily medical log while in quarantine. So the two of you disappeared into your rooms to do that and some other paperwork.
By lunch, you finally went over with Harry the division of tasks. It’s not like you were setting house rules, it’s just so that you both pull your weight around the house, and not feel like a burden to the other. He did have some questions, suggestions, and other things he would like to do while he’s at your place. You have a small lawn in your backyard, and he asked about your plans for the place. He suggested it could be improved with a few plants, aside from the faded lawn chairs and the wild grass that has survived on its own. You agreed to let him do whatever he thinks would be good. He gave up living in his own flat probably thinking of your own comfort, this is the least you could do for him.
And then the rest of the week was spent with the following routine, except on the weekend.
Morning workout
Taking turns cooking breakfast or doing the dishes
Taking a shower
1-2 hours of desk work
Lunch. Again, whoever’s in charge of the cooking and the cleaning up
A little tidying up of the house or your room
Few more paperwork
The rest of the day goes on without a specific task at hand. Sometimes you do a bit more workout. Sometimes you try to finish a few of the personal projects you’ve started a while ago. Sometimes, you do a bit more online shopping.
Dinner. Dinner arrangement. You know how it works.
But you often end the day with a bath and skincare or a self-care (Yes, you’re a bad-ass agent and you’re also a huge fan of self-care)
By Saturday, you went on with your usual weekend plan of not getting out of bed until your stomach complained that it was hungry. However, you suddenly jumped out of bed, ran to the bathroom, quickly brushed your teeth, and washed your face.
You were doing a half-run going downstairs and yelled an apology.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“I was beginning to think you died in your sleep,” Harry said, and you playfully pushed him on his shoulders.
It wasn't that late, just half-past nine, but Harry surely had been waiting for quite a while.
_____________________________________________________
Another A/N: Too light? Needs a bit more plot?
Part 2? Yes. I’m just warming up. ;)
Do you want this to be a series? You can suggest things. Let me know!
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i dont know if it counts as monsters but i have a soft spot for zombies if you can do anything with that
Hmmm, I consider zombies a type of monster in their own right! Not sure if I can do a romance between a human and a zombie, but I'm more than happy to write about the romance between two humans in a zombie apocalypse! :D
Warning: zombies, injuries (nothing serious)
On with the fic!
--
"Everything alright over there, angel?" Crowley asked, having heard something crash and then a long, too long, silent pause before hearing a soft 'fuck'.
"I'm... peachy, dear boy." Aziraphale spoke and Crowley approached from where he had been searching through the shelves of the abandoned shop for food.
He found Aziraphale on the ground, a number of cans scattered around him, and a large puddle was on the ground. Water dripped from the a hole in the ceiling, clearly the cause of the puddle from the rain outside. "You need help?"
"I'm sure I've got... oof!" Aziraphale winced as he attempted to get up, sitting back down with a hiss as he rubbed at his back. "Landed right on my back, not... not fun."
"Here, I've got-" Crowley started, before hearing banging from somewhere on the other side of the shop.
They both tensed up and listened quietly. The store was silent outside of the rain, and the faint sounds of moaning and screeching.
"It shouldn't have been that loud..." Aziraphale whispered as Crowley helped him to his feet.
"Well, this whole street's as quiet as... well... somethin' that's quiet."
"Like a grave..."
"Morbid, angel." Crowley tisked and dusted the former bookseller off. "We barricaded the doors here, there's no way they can get in. As long as we stay outta sight, they won't bother with us."
"I know, I know." Aziraphale sighed, wincing again as he bent to pick up his fallen pack, slipping the book that had fallen out into it.
Crowley frowned and worked to grab a few of the cans, left behind because of the panic of the past few weeks. Zombies, who would've thought? Many had fled, gone off to the continent, but too many were left behind.
Like himself. Like Aziraphale.
They had only just met before all of this shit went down, had been on a few dates, and had been in the middle of a lovely meal at the Ritz before quarantine was placed on the whole of the UK.
It was like something from 28 Days Later, and was shockingly still kept secluded to the island. Anyone who escaped was placed in immediate quarantine and Crowley found out that they were not to be released until a cure was found. He didn't know if a cure had been found, they lost internet connection a while back.
Aziraphale had stuck with Crowley through this whole thing, and Crowley appreciated it, loved it, in fact. As scary as being stuck on an island full of terrified and crazed survivors along with infected, fleshing eating people, it was nice that the situation allowed him and Aziraphale to bond and... well... become a couple.
"Think we'll be safe in here until they pass?" Aziraphale frowned, moving towards the back of the store, where they were as far from the blocked-off front doors as possible.
"Completely." Crowley said with confidence, though inside he was still on high alert, hand at the ready on his tire iron. A gun would be nice, but it was too loud, and he didn't know how to fire one. The tire iron was shockingly useful and a hell of a head breaker.
Aziraphale was armed with a flipping swore, apparently he was classically trained or something, and was excellent with it. Crowley never voiced it, but there was something so attractive about seeing his fussy, prissy boyfriend slice a zombie's head clean off.
He followed Aziraphale to the back of the store, where they found the employee break room, left abandoned. It would be perfect to camp here through the storm and for the night.
"At least the power still works here." Crowley commented. "We've even got a microwave, we can have a warm meal! We'll make it a date night!"
Aziraphale laughed as he sat himself down carefully in a chair at a small table. "Heat up some canned soup, enjoy it with a dusty pack of crackers, and top it off with a lovely cup of cocktail fruit?"
Crowley smiled and set some of the food he had grabbed on the counter. "A perfect meal for date night! And you can continue to read to me, we gotta finish off that story, you left it on a cliffhanger."
"Start up that soup and I'll get right on it." Aziraphale said, pulling the book out.
It wasn't the Ritz, it wasn't dancing at one of the nicest dance halls to fit Aziraphale's aesthetic, it wasn't driving around the countryside, but Crowley knew it was still just as wonderful, zombies be damned.
#good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable spouses#aziraphale#crowley#anthony j crowley#john's drabbles
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41, 51, 2, 8, 34 for Martian :))
hiyaa thanks for sending this along! gonna try post-retirement martian..
41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?
maybe when he was younger, seb was more absentminded regarding the care and keeping of Himself--the invincibility of youth, etc, you know how it is. but as he's gotten older, he's also gotten better about preparing for unexpected weather. it's mark, surprisingly, that'll get distracted by the outdoors, and in his hubris, think he can get beat the rain home. seb's lost count of the number of times he's dragged mark under an awning and shrugged off his coat, reaching up to pull it over mark's shoulders with a scowl. why don't you ever check the weather before we leave the house, he'll say. to his annoyance, mark will simply settle the coat more securely over himself, and beam at him. i've got you to handle it, don't i?
and, well. seb can't argue with that.
51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?
it's like a dissonant, suspended chord from their red bull days, their unwillingness to be entirely vulnerable. that they care strongly for one another is never in doubt--it's impossible to go through what they did and not have an intimate understanding of the other--but sometimes, they finds themselves having to pay closer attention to their actions to understand the true extent.
when mark walks close enough to seb that their hands bump, and his pinkie finger hooks around seb's; when seb isn't on dish duty, but he steps in to help anyway; when mark tucks seb's curls behind his ear, and his thumb lingers; when seb offers to help fix mark's bike; it's almost as though they're broadcasting their affection for each other. they only ever need to tune into the right frequency to listen.
2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?
seb gets stress dreams, sometimes. he's not one-track minded, per se, it's just that when something unresolved is on his mind, it'll stay there until he resolves it.
he never remembers his dreams, once he opens his eyes; just the impression of fear, some phantom shadow curling at the edges of his vision. thus, in the early hours, it's not a manic state he wakes up in after a nightmare so much as an unsettled one. fortunately, mark can clock his mood like he's got a radar for seb's happiness installed in his brain, and he usually stirs awake too. it's helpful in moments like this, because he also knows exactly what to do: he'll pull seb closer, and hold seb's hand even if it's still clammy with sweat, and tangle their legs together, or do whatever's most convenient to remind seb that he's there, like a guard dog.
or, seb thinks, as he breathes in the warmth and the lingering smell of detergent and something certifiably mark, more like a teddy bear that chases the darkness away from under the bed. when he closes his eyes again, he's on a rowboat under the stars, lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the ocean's swells beneath him, and anchored to shore with a rope tied carefully by mark's hand.
8. What happens if one of them gets sick?
naturally, they both get sick. mark's the one who's away from home more (and more, because the race seasons just keep getting longer), so when he gets that familiar feeling of dryness in his throat, it feels like an inevitability. at first, he tries to quarantine himself, because someone's gotta take care of the animals and keep the place running. but seb insists on taking care of him instead, uncaring of the germs. it works out, in the end: when seb gets too sick to crawl out of bed, mark's well enough to feed the chickens. they take it easy for a week, or at least until they can spend a day without hacking a lung out. life goes on.
34. Who's more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?
if seb is anything, he's a little shit-eating gremlin who knows precisely what he's doing at all times, or at least in the times that are most inconvenient to mark. case in point, right before he's about to go on tv. seb's innuendos and double entendres aren't even subtle, as though he's stopped trying to flirt entirely, and instead taken it for granted that he has mark wrapped around the cute little index finger he sticks up in victory sometimes. the problem is, he's not wrong.
mark steps in front of the camera with his cheeks tinged pink--from the heat, obviously--and a smile that twitches at the corner of his lips, like he can't help himself. viewers everywhere wonder what's so funny, especially since neither dc nor steve jones are being particularly interesting.
it remains a mystery to everyone but seb, who takes a quick, suggestive picture of himself, and sends it to mark. none of the microphones pick up the notifying buzz.
ask me about martian / nobody asks you questions!
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Read List of 2022
To all the Cryptids and Humanoids of the World--
I come to you with my tail between my legs.
With the dawn on January, I told myself that I would use this blog throughout the year to better catalogue my thoughts on what I read. My Goodreads account was only a month old and I’ve never been comfortable or crazy about the layout of that website. But as all New Years Resolutions do, my reading blog fell to the way side.
So, I come to you in December, mere days before the New Year, with a list of gorgeous, heart-breaking, clever, and truly life-changing novels.
Last time around, I read 19 books. This year, I read 22. As a younger person I was always hell-bent on expanding that number each year but 2022 was an entirely unique beast. For me, this was the first trip around the sun since the pandemic began that felt like a real year, complete with the same amount of work, heartbreak, pain, and joy. I had to reconcile that I wasn’t going to hit my goal of 50 books (because I read 48 in 2020. What else were we doing in quarantine).
However small this list may seem, I was enchanted. From this collection of Read Books I’ve latched onto some of my all-time favorites. I laughed, fought goosebumps, wept, and was forever changed by many of the heavy hitters on this list. All in all, I’d consider that a success.
Just like last time, I have included the genre of each novel as well as a 1 out of 5 star rating. They are listed in no particular order.
Happy New Year and Happy Reading!
1. What Just Happened: Notes on a Long Year, by Charles Finch : Memoir : 4 out of 5 stars
Starting my year with a memoir that is, at is root, journals kept by the author during the pandemic, was not a wise choice. Battling seasonal depression all while living through act three of the very same pandemic that is examined in this book was difficult, to say the least. Nevertheless, I was still incredibly moved by the perspectives immortalized here. Finch made me laugh more times than I can count and cry until I was hollow, but he didn’t leave me that way. Mostly, I walked away from this book with hope. It’s gorgeous and forty years down the line, children will be reading it in schools, remembering those who were lost.
2. Tin Man, by Sarah Winman : Romance, Slice of Life : 5 out of 5 stars
This book absolutely destroyed me. Sad LGBTQIA+ romance is my favorite genre, and Tin Man has to top the list of books I’ve read no only in that category, but overall. My dear friend Lisa sent me a copy in late January, and I devoured the entire thing in a matter of hours. It’s gorgeous. The story between the two main lovers and their journey from childhood friends, through their torrid love affair in the summer of 1960, to their vicious breakup and the subsequent marriage of the main character to a girl they both knew from school and, finally, the deep, unconditional friendship between the three of them that surpasses grief, loss, death, and heartbreak--this novel is everything, EVERYTHING, to me. Read it.
3. What It Means When a Man Falls from the Sky, by Lesley Nineka Arimah : Short Story Anthology, Slice of Life : 3.5 out of 5 stars
Gorgeous prose and breathtaking African Mythology wrapped in a cloak of familial expectations that the author ultimately sheds to take flight into her own becoming. So great, so powerful, amazing.
4. Diary of an Oxygen Thief, by Anonymous : Slice of Life : 1.5 out of 5 stars
This was one of my least favorite books this year. Imagine Holden Caufield with a college degree and more money than he knows what to do with. In my opinion, there’s room for one Holden Caufield in literature. It was incredibly repetitive and I lost interest pretty early on.
5. At Swim, Two Boys, by Jamie O’Neill : Romance, Historical Fiction : 3 out of 5 stars
HEARTBREAKING. Two childhood friends in Ireland at the height of the first World War fall in love and decide to swim the English Channel before the draft tears them apart. The vernacular explored in this novel made it hard for me to get into at first but once I did, it ruined me. Go read it!
6. The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek, by Rett and Link : Horror : 2.5 out of 5 stars
This one was a blast, exploring the whimsy of childhood and what happens when corrupt adults expect children to grow up too fast. Children deserve to have their angst and their pain. I wasn’t expecting such a good read for the GMM boys but here we are!
7. Filth, by Irvine Welsh : Slice of Life : 2 out of 5 stars
Horrifying. A disgusting cop abuses his power, his wife, and himself. This was another one that took me a while to orient to, but it was fun. More than a couple of scenes still make me sick to my stomach.
8. Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut : Fiction : 4.5 out of 5 stars
Ah, the adventures of Kilgore Trout. Breakfast of Champions was first book my friend Jarin had me read for our book club and is often described as a must on the debate of Free Will. I loved this one so much. Vonnegut was one that we read in school, specifically Slaughterhouse Five, and he’s a classic American Existentialist writer who asks his audience to examine the world through the lens of people who are already insane or who are on their way. It was very enjoyable, and incredibly moving.
9. Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card : 4.5 out of 5 stars
Another book Jarin had me read. I’m much more of a Science Fiction person, and this classic dystopian novel combined all the things I love; corrupt institutions, hyper-intelligent children saving the world, and a morally gray antagonist. A true American Classic that paved the way for series like The Hunger Games.
10. Stay and Fight, by Madeline Finch : Slice of Life, LGBTQ+ : 5 out of 5 stars
At its root, this book is about community, compassion, and survival. Two lesbians and a recently single woman decide to build a house together and live off the land. When the women decide to raise a child together, they must determine if it’s more important to live off the land, or keep their family afloat. SO good, I read this by flashlight during my two-week excursion in Yellowstone and it was the perfect read. I cried, I laughed, I was permanently changed.
11. Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, by Fannie Flagg : Romance, Slice of Life, LGBTQ+ : 3.5 out of 5 stars
A CLASSIC. Anyone who was a child of the 1990s knows the film and I had never read the book so this year, Jarin and I read it together for book club. It says so much about womanhood, right and wrong, and what it means to be young. I love this book so much.
12. Gone to See the River Man, by Kristopher Triana : Horror, Splatter Punk : 4.5 out of 5 stars
This book is perhaps the most disturbing thing I read all year. A woman ventures into the woods with her sister in search of the River Man, who is known to grant wishes. If you’re looking for a fast paced, fucked up, nightmare-inducing adventure, Gone to See the River Man, might be the one for you!
13. Counting by 7′s, by Holly Goldberg Sloan : Slice of Life : 2.5 out of 5 stars
A young, autistic girl loses her parents and must find a new home. know this book is beloved by many people, but it was hard to get through for me. Maybe it’s because the protagonists story is too close to my own. But it was lovely writing.
14. A Certain Hunger, by Chelsea Summers : Horror : 1.5 out of 5 stars
Book club read! A world renowned food critic starts killing and eating men. I hated this book (oops!). Jarin and I read it for book club and something about the writing was so bland and one note. The main character, Dorothy, was evil for the sake of being evil and there was nothing interesting about her that compelled me to continue reading. Disappointing because this novel was incredibly popular this year.
15. The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson : Horror : 4.5 out of 5 stars
A woman is invited to the infamous Hill House to aid in an experiment that aims to prove the existence of ghosts and slowly loses her mind in the process. ANOTHER CLASSIC! I absolutely love Jackson’s writing. The way she was able to craft such a truly chilling tale that provides no real answers or conclusion, that absolutely leaves the reader feeling like they’ve just walked off the edge of a cliff, is so masterful. Her other classic, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, is one I read a few years ago and I still think about it.
16. Any Man, by Amber Tamblyn : Horror : 4.5 out of 5 stars
Six men from six distinct walks of life all encounter the same rapist and have the course of their lives altered forever. GORGEOUS. It’s told in various mediums from texts, to instant messages, poetry, stream of consciousness, and journal entries. I’m not usually one to love that method of storytelling, but it just WORKS here. Any Man is another one that I read in a matter of hours. So, so good.
17. Theme Music, by T. Marie Vandelly : Horror : 3.5 out of 5 stars
A woman returns to the home where, twenty years earlies, her father murdered her entire family on Thanksgiving morning. This was so camp. Hilarious, dark, and witty, fans of Scream will enjoy this. Such a fun time.
18. Bettyville, by George Hodgman : Memoir : 2.5 out of 5 stars
A gay man returns home to take care of his mother, who is in the final stages of her battle with dementia. Heartbreaking, a true testament to the relationships people have with one another and all the promises they can’t keep.
19. Loveless, by Alice Oseman : Romance, LGBTQ+, YA fiction : 4.5 out of 5 stars
The journey of self-acceptance that one asexual girl must take in order to be happy. In addition to serving as a poignant reminder that not every LGBTQ+ person is surrounded by allies or people like them, this novel was so sweet, it felt like licking the frosting from a cupcake. A must read.
20. Honey Girl, by Morgan Rogers : Romance, LGBTQ+ : 2.5 out of 5 stars
Recently graduated with a PHd in Astronomy, Grace and her two friends travel to Las Vegas and Grace marries a woman she just met. The relationships between the protagonist and her friends was beautiful, and the writing had many strengths and high points. These victories only made the plot’s shortcomings more obvious.
22. The Town of Babylon, by Alejandro Verela : Slice of Life, LGBTQ+ : 3 out of 5 stars
Andres is a public health worker married to a surgeon, Marco, when he returns home to his unnamed suburban hamlet to care for his ailing father in the midst of his own relationship challenges with Marco. It explores themes of change, queerness, and what it’s like to be the only brown face in a sea of white people. It was heartfelt and lovely.
21. The Cabin at the End of the World, by Paul Tremblay : Horror, LGBTQ+ : 5 out of 5 stars
Wen and her parents Eric and Andrew travel to a remote cabin in New Hampshire for Spring Break, only to be held prisoner by four reluctant captives who claim that the end of the world is coming, and only Wen’s parents and the sacrifice they make can stop it. I cried. The relationships in this novel, the use of violence and horror as a vehicle for INCREDIBLE, GROUNDBREAKING storytelling--go read it. Just do it!
What I’m reading now: The Stranger, by Albert Camus
For next Year: A Series of Unfortunate Events, by Lemony Snicket, Sometimes I lie, by Alice Feeny, Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield, and others...
UNTIL NEXT YEAR <3
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9 and 11 for bts!! (sorry if you've already answered these <3)
9. Have they ever made you cry?
I have literally lost count LOL besides the number of times i just cry over taehyung in general um definitely listening to spring day for the first time and reading the lyrics and just reading a lot about the sewol ferry disaster tho i vaguely remembered seeing the news coverage years prior. cried from laughing at how funny they are countless times. cried to rm's seoul. cried to v's winter bear. there were definitely tears at ptdos day 3 last month. has a group ever made me cry more (no)
11. What do you love about this group?
they got me into kpop during quarantine!! and their friendship dynamics reminded me a lot of my friend groups who i barely got time to say goodbye to before the lockdown </3 so in a way they made me both feel less lonely and more lonely lol :') also bc theyre the first kpop group i got into they just feel so comforting and warm and like home to me :] n ofc theyre deadass so funny and wholesome and their music is fire!!!
> kpop ask game <
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Covid Keeps Quarantines Coming
I'm not even sure how to start when it comes to Covid. As a writer I'm a professional smart-ass, but with this I got my ass kicked, and didn't feel too smart about it.
Illness or injury traditionally accompany our vacations: Last December Emily and I came down with the flu when we were supposed to visit her family and friends in Missouri. This year we decided to head down on a Thursday.
On Wednesday we started to feel a little ... off. By Thursday morning we had to call it--we couldn't risk giving her father whatever bug was now traveling with us. It wasn't until Friday night that we began to suspect the modern medical boogieman, Covid. We missed the trip, we missed Saturday's Holiday Pops concert, and I felt so bad I couldn't even write. By the time it was done I had to contact my editor at History Press to push back our deadline for the Haunted Noble County book, because I'd planned to use half of my vacation to work on it.
The only question left: Could I turn it into a funny blog?
It doesn't LOOK like 102 degrees.
No. No, I could not.
The only thing we did was marathon the TV show The Expanse, and unsuccessfully try to listen to Good Omens on audiobook. (We kept having to go back when one or another of us fell asleep.)
You know, watching TV and reading books wouldn't be such a bad vacation. The problem is that for the first couple of days we were unable to enjoy anything, and in fact we were too sick to sleep. You heard that right. Over that first weekend I, who can't function on less than eight hours of sleep, stayed awake for twenty-fours straight. Even Nyquil wouldn't put me out.
Then, for a week after that, we were too sick to stay awake. That was the period during which we kept having to go back and decide what we remembered last from the audiobook.
"It was Agnes Nutter and the book, wasn't it?"
"No, it was Adam and the Them meeting the dog."
(We were both wrong: It was Crowley terrifying his house plants.)
I took this photo of Emily at the same time the one above of me was taken. She's in there, I swear.
Part of it--let's face it--is that I'm no spring chicken pox. When I was in my early 20's I once rode the back step of a fire engine to a mobile home fire on the edge of town--while running a fever.
This truck, specifically. What an awesome truck.
A couple of years later I rode a different engine to Kendallville, to a tire fire so big it could have been seen from the International Space Station, if there'd been one at the time. I was coughing up junk that looked like it belonged in an alien invasion horror movie, despite never getting into the smoke. Yet there I went, for twelve hours. Our Chief later ordered me to go home and go the hell to bed.
No more.
It's not just that Covid is bad. My normal temperature runs around 97.6, and by the time it hit 100 not only could I not go to a fire, I couldn't pick up the TV remote. (Thus the marathon of one show.) It reached 102 at one point. My skin kept trying to crawl away to somewhere cooler, or so it felt.
Emily was running about a day behind me, so I had the pain of knowing what she was about to go through. She's still got a terrible cough weeks later, while mine is just awful. We were like the grandparents in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, just laying there in a lump. Christmas preparations? Hah! We'd bought a new, pre-lit tree, but we never even got a chance to fluff out the branches, let alone decorate it.
I kinda like it like this, though. Yes, it's black.
I was so sick--brace yourself for this--I lost my appetite.
I can count on one hand the number of times I've completely lost my appetite, and I was in the hospital for most of those. I dropped six pounds. This is not a recommended diet.
The moral of this story is, of course, don't get Covid. We didn't mind at all being quarantined, at least not until the chocolate ran out. (Everything tasted salty or metallic, except chocolate.) Other people in this area passed away from it, so we count ourselves lucky now that we're feeling 50% better.
Yeah, I'm exhausted all the time, but I work nights--I was already halfway there, anyway.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
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Remember, books aren't effective as masks, but they're great for quarantine.
#humor#family#coronavirus#pandemic#quarantine#corona virus#health#medical humor#medical stuff#firefighting#writing
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Covid-trick or treat- unpacking the good, bad and the ugly of a pandemic.
(Google , photo)
Jokes aside!
Coronavirus was ahead of us according to (Cucinotta, D., et al., 2020) , the number of cases outside China increased 13-fold and the number of countries with cases increased threefold & we needed to be more aggressive to contain.
In the midst of containing Covid-19 the trick, bad and the ugly of the pandemic were that people had to transition from what we viewed and understood as normal life to the New normal.
The New normal negatively impacted the Person and occupational fit :
-people were forced to work in uncomfortable working postures just like shown on the picture the Health workers who were also labeled as Frontline workers had to find ways to get through to people without merely touching them but had to test, diagnose and treat in a midst of Covid-19.
Adapting to the New normal that was introduced in the name of Banners, who would have known that A virus would have triggered so many emotions people were left vulnerable, had anxiety attacks and felt disconnected to themselves, families and friends.
Evoking feelings of Loneliness 🥺
I remember so vividly when i had just moved out of university residence and went back home after 3 months of being away from home, i had to be in quarantine for few days just to make sure my family will be protected and we all know parents and being skeptical about “Big cities”.
Gone are those days where our lifestyle were fancied while we broke each and everyday of counting down to the day of freedom, its all started as 21 days and nobody knows how we got to Level 5 of Covid-19 where we were infringed of freedom, even buying a packet of chips was banned!
Remember how the army was sent out to put us in line because we couldn’t mask up as we suffocated every minute with the mask covering the nose and mouth. Remember how we weren’t given a chance to adapt to mask but rather it became a norm until 2 years later we were still stuck with them.
This triggers anger because I remember how my grandmother had to wake up in the wee hours to get us food but she returned empty handed as the lines were rather too long or couldn’t find items that she needed.
In the midst of Covid the good were also experienced.
-I remember i had just lost a bursary and i was in a verge of deregistering because i wasn’t going to be able to pay for fees and Residence but just a week before i deregistered were sent home for 2 weeks , the government placed us on 21 days of quarantine, i took leap of faith and deregistered Residence and i stayed at home
Online learning was a blessing in disguise because i was able to study and not being bothered about Rent and groceries, here i am doing my third year therefore i could say Covid-19 did not only break souls but it SAVED my academic year.
Clearly we had to avoid Men😂🤣 I will not go into detail about how we got the first case of covid-19 in South Africa, during covid-19 quarantine we were able to laugh while taking precautions.
For me as a student Covid-19 impacted me both negatively and positively
Negative factors
When online learning was introduced as Dry run it was not dry it was Slippery, how the mind transitioned to vacation and could not adjust to the new style if learning with parents and siblings around who did not understand the concept of being infront of your laptop screen from morning to afternoons, school work piled up and we were forever asking for extention of submission dates, blame it on the internet and not having the hang of the new learning technique.
Positive factor
-The ability to learn and understand by yourself, working at your pace and it instilled the skill of time management, social skills and the ability to independent.
-it increased the self hygiene worldwide as people would often wash their hand and sanitize as well and e-learning improved the students computer skills and literacy.
-Increased the country’s unity as how we followed and obeyed the protocols that helped us to be where we are today.
Returning to Normal has been a bliss because now we can closely interact with clients, get to know how to assess and treat rather then having assimilated paper cases and I can say that we were once deprived Education because we were limited as to what we can do.
References
Cucinotta , d., & Vanelli, m.(2020). Who declares covid-19 a pandemic. acta biomed 91(1), 157-160 https://doi.org/10.23750/abm.v91i1.9397
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Day 176 of quarantine
#Remember those memes where people would update every day in quarantine#But then we all lost count#Meme#Shitpost#Ftr it has been 176 days I've been in quarantine#I didn't just make up a number
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So I tested positive for covid today and instead of worrying about the stuff I should be worried about like the fact I’m very medically vulnerable to complications or that I’m going to be isolating over the entire festive period and miss Christmas completely, I’m actually worrying about my flatmates and friends resenting me
#I tested positive 3 days after getting home for Christmas break#so my flatmates don’t have to isolate but of course there is always the chance they caught it from me or whoever the fuck I caught it from#and I’m just so scared that they’ll test positive and hate me for making them miss Christmas with their families#I’m having to quarantine in my bedroom because my dads testing negative#and being shut inside a small room 24hrs a day with nothing to do is just giving me so much time to worry about it#l have lost count of the number of anxiety attacks I have had in the last two days#it’s probably a good thing I’m not thinking of the health implications or missing Christmas because if I could think about that#it might push me over the edge#personal
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Lhh or daddy prompt... reader or OC forced to do 14 day covid quarantine at a hotel. Totally sucks, except WHO is this ridiculous specimen of a man who has the room/balcony next door??
Quarantining with a view
soooooooo i decided to combine a few of the prompts since i felt they went well together 👀 could've just been an excuse to turn this into a longer one-shot because 😅😅 apparently i can't help myself.
❗just a quick disclaimer: obviously, this isn't intended to instigate against covid regulations in any shape or form! just for the sake of reiterating a point: both characters are fully vaccinated, tested, been super safe this whole pandemic, etc you name it and are just quarantining due to standard precautionary procedures when visiting an area where the number of cases has spiked up.
Warnings: 18+, smut, slight pain kink
Word count: 4K 😅
You couldn’t believe your “luck”. What were the odds that your company would prove to be this insanely idiotic. You were sent “on field” out to another state, and your business trip had been arranged weeks ahead. However, this respective state had fallen under a higher incidence of covid cases just before you had to leave, and you thought to yourself they’d cancel it. But, nope! They still sent you! Even if it meant having to spend 14 days quarantining there on arrival, and another 14 when you returned home.
Which was absolutely baffling to you, but hey. You got paid for those 4 weeks of lying around because it was work related, after all, and that was almost a whole month of getting paid for doing nothing.
However, you still had to quarantine, which meant self-isolating at a hotel and then at home, and at home at least you had a whole post-pandemic routine you’d worked out. The hotel however was another thing altogether.
You sighed, dropping your bags at the entrance. At least it was a nice suite. They’d showed some mercy in that regard, considering you’d have to be spending 14 excruciating days there. All you could hope for now was that they had decent room service. If not, you’d have to order in and that would complicate the whole thing since your company would be paying for that also- having it all on the hotel’s bill was much easier.
But after 3 days you already felt poorly, to put it mildly. You felt imprisoned. The mere thought that you couldn’t step out of the suite (using your room card-key would show up on their surveillance, and you were meant to be quarantining there by law) really took a toll on you. You’d not had to quarantine before, and during lock-down you’d still had the possibility to step outside for a bit of fresh air on the daily using those damned forms, this however was another thing entirely and knowing that even if you did try to sneak out just for a bit of a walk after midnight when not a living soul would be disturbed, it would show up on their surveillance, and it made you turn on Netflix and re-watch Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile. And it definitely hadn’t been the wisest decision you’d ever made.
On your 5th day, you finally caved in and ordered cigarettes up to your suite. You’d quit years ago, but this was a fucking emergency. You’d have lost your mind, otherwise, you were sure of it. You debated whether this “business trip” would turn you into a raging alcoholic by the end of it too.
You didn’t even bother turning on the lights when you stepped outside at 2am onto the open balcony, the only way you could experience some fresh air. Sure, you went out there mainly to smoke, but still. You sighed as you sat on the sunbed and lit your cigarette, looking at the stars- it was a clear sky. Of course the weather had to be perfect while you were isolating, but just watch as it’d for sure take a turn for the worst the minute you stepped outside at the end of those two weeks.
You chuckled to yourself and rubbed your face “Oh, God…”, you were losing your mind and it was getting to you, obviously.
“What’s so funny?” a deep, quiet voice asked from out of nowhere. You sat upright on your sunbed, what the fuck?! Surely you couldn’t hallucinate from cigarettes? Or were you so removed from civilization that you were turning into some sort of psychiatric experiment, you were starting to hear voices.
“Hm?” the voice sounded like it came from closer and before you could process it you turned your head to the left and saw a head peek from behind the balcony partition.
“Jesus, fuck!” you coughed “You scared the crap out of me!”
The man chuckled, and you knew he was a man just by the sound of his voice, you couldn’t really make out his features, all you really saw was that he had long, wavy-curly hair.
“M’sorry. But you were talking to yourself just then, right?”
“What the hell? Just mind your own business!”
“Ohh… feisty. What’s gotten your panties in a knot?”
You gasped “Excuse you? What gives you the nerve…? Sir, kindly step away from the partition. I’m quarantining”
“Sir? I mean. Whatever floats your boat” you could hear him smirking and you had the sudden urge to take that short step to the railing and yank on those curls of his “M’quarantining too. It’s only my second day though, looks like you’ve been cooked up in here longer. Will I also end up talking to myself and laughing at my own jokes by the end of this?”
“Ugh. I don’t know but maybe you’ll learn about personal space and boundaries though”
“Maybe. Can I have one of those?”
You looked at him for a long moment, you’d been avoiding doing so all this time and now that you saw him a bit more clearly you couldn’t help but notice the arm he’d flung over the railing and over to your side, his bicep flexing as his fingers rasped against the partition. His skin was glowing in the moonlight and you could see his whole arm was lettered in tattoos that you couldn’t quite make out.
You grabbed the pack and held it outstretched but he pretended like he couldn’t reach it, even though you knew he could stretch just a bit further, tall as he obviously was. You rolled your eyes and sat up, taking the necessary step towards the partition.
You waited for him to fish out a cigarette and immediately retreated earning a chuckle “I don’t bite, sweetheart”
“No, but covid does”
“I took a test just before I got here, I’m fine. I’m sure you did too. This is just an extra precaution, the quarantining. C’mon”
You knew he was right, but you also knew these things were done for a good reason so you didn’t really feel like opening up the subject just in case he was an anti-vaxxer or something.
“I’m also fully vaccinated. I’m super careful. I’m clean. Relax.”
You shrugged nonchalantly at that and watched him give you a quick once-over.
“Can I have the lighter too?”
You scoffed, sitting up again and he perched the cigarette between his lips, waiting for you to light it for him “Seriously?”
He just shrugged and you could see that smirk even with his lips busy holding the stick. You lit his damn smoke and before he could make another smart remark you went for the balcony door “I’m turning in, have a good night”
“Good night, scaredy cat”
Your mouth went agape hearing him call you that, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction.
The next day you were more than aware of this long haired man’s presence on the opposite side of the wall. You’d never heard anyone the days prior, so you had a sneaking suspicion the two of you were the only ones on this wing of the hotel considering how thin the walls turned out to be. You could hear him sing in the shower (and his voice was spectacular, if you were being honest), you could hear his electric razor afterwards, you could hear him talk over the phone even though you couldn’t make out the words, and as much as you wanted it to irk you, it was actually comforting knowing there was another living, breathing person on the other side of that wall.
You knew you were being a bit dramatic, a week was almost over, you were half way through, but you still felt extremely isolated, and, well… lonely. You’d facetimed friends, you’d been on social media, but you just missed having the freedom of doing whatever you felt like doing. Truth be told, you probably wouldn’t have done much had you just been there on vacation, apart from going to the beach maybe, getting a tan, you’d have ended up spending most of your days cooked up in the same hotel room. Single life was harsh, although you were used to it. You’d been single for a year and a half and you were sick of third wheeling with your friends that were all either married or in a relationship. There was literally no other single friend left for you to go on fun city breaks with. Did that mean you were not going to be going on trips just because you were single? Hell no. You did go, and it was… sort of fun, but it was more than just staying at home.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your “next door neighbor’s” voice that you could now hear a bit more clearly, since your door to the balcony was ajar and he’d probably stepped out into his own.
“Yeah? How wet? Tell me” his voice held a playful note and something told you he wasn’t talking about the weather back in England, since he was clearly British.
Your ears perked up at that immediately. You stood on the edge of your bed and heard him hiss “Got that wet just thinking about me, huh? And then you just had to send that nude, didn’t you?” he tsked and your mouth fell agape once again. Was he having phone sex?
You gently stood up, tiptoeing your way to the door to the balcony after switching off the nightstand lamp as well as your TV. You didn’t want to blow your cover, and you wanted to hear him properly. You were about to listen in on someone have phone sex. Were you ashamed of yourself? Maybe. Were you going to stop? Hell no.
“...know you’re tight, but you’re gonna have to push in another finger for me, yeah? Yes you can. I know you can, you can take me, after all” he chuckled and you rolled your eyes. What a cocky bastard. Even though you knew he was probably rightfully so. Suddenly you heard him walk back into his room, although he’d left the door to his balcony open, so you had to step out onto the balcony entirely in order to hear him. You made sure you didn’t make any sound as you gingerly stood on your sunbed, listening intently. His voice was a bit more muffled, but still, you could hear him.
“No! No you cannot. M’not there yet” you could hear through gritted teeth and you gasped realizing he was touching himself. You listened in even more intently and sure enough, you could hear the sound of him abusing himself and you literally felt like clutching your imaginary pearls. The man was a menace. At least have some decency and shut the damn door!
Not that you wanted him to.
“Yeah, I wanna hear yeh. Louder. Louder!” he grunted and before you could really brace yourself, as though you had any reason to, he was coming and he wasn’t making a secret of it. He groaned loudly and you could hear him panting. Then he must’ve ended the phone call because, suddenly, way too rapidly, you heard him walk out onto his own balcony and you froze.
You had to make sure you didn’t make any noise at all, lest you blew your cover, but you were also panting heavily yourself- for what reason, you had no clue!
“Any chance I could have another one of those? Haven’t had one after sex in a long while”
Your eyes widened looking at him lean across the railing from behind the partition yet again, and instead of acting like a deer caught in the headlights you decided to play it cool. He’d caught you. There was no use trying to deny having heard anything.
“I don’t think phone sex qualifies for a post coital cigarette, since there was no actual sex” you kept a steady voice and you could see his eyebrows shoot up at that.
“That’s just a technicality. I still think I deserve one, got the job done, didn’t I?”
You scoffed, walking over to him like last time, holding out the open packet “‘I’m sure your girlfriend is thrilled that you “got the job done” “ you air quoted and before he could pull a stick out, you retreated the packet “Wait, did you wash your hands afterwards?”
He just stared at you for a second before a smirk made its way across his face yet again and he just leaned in further and you stared at him for a beat too before you clumsily placed a cigarette in between his waiting lips. You also lit it for him and after he took the first drag he clarified “Not m’girlfriend”
“Wife?”
He laughed out loud “Hell no. We just fuck sometimes”
“Lovely. Well, I’m heading in. Good night”
“Already? It’s just past 10”
“Yeah, uhm… feel like turning in early tonight”
“Got something you need to take care of?” he raised an eyebrow, that same smirk playing on his lips as he took another drag
You gasped, this time having not turned away quick enough for him to miss your reaction and he laughed, wishing you a good night just as you closed the balcony door shut behind you.
Now that you were officially into your second week you felt better, mentally, knowing that most of it was behind you. You noticed the sun hit the balcony just right at around 5pm, when the rays weren’t that set out to burn you, and you decided to make the most of it and try and get a tan. You had those sunbeds in there and it would’ve been practically a shame not to use them at this point.
You had a bathing suit packed since this was a city with a lovely beach, after all, you still had 4 full days after quarantine for work and whatever you felt like doing in your spare time, and since you loved the ocean you were dying to finally be able to go. In the meanwhile though, you could build up your tan out there on the balcony.
You hadn’t even finished listening to 3 entire tracks on your spotify when you heard something over your earbuds and you opened your eyes, your head automatically turning to your left.
You pulled the earbuds out. Watching your “nextdoor neighbor” roam his eyes unashamedly over your body. You were only wearing that skimpy bikini and it certainly left little to the imagination “... What now?’” you scoffed, irritatedly
“I… forgot what I was going to say, if’m being honest” he picked at his lower lip and you rolled your eyes, resuming your position on your sunbed “Aren’t our suites supposed to be the same? How come you get not one, but two sunbeds and I only got a crappy chair?”
“I requested them”
“Good thinking” after a beat he asked “Mind if I joined?”
You opened your left eye, shielding your face from the sun with your outstretched arm “Huh?”
“I’m getting kinda antsy by myself here. How’d you survive this far?”
“I deserve a fucking raise” you mumbled
“You’re here for work?”
“Yeah. Fucking geniuses they are...”
“So… can I? Your balcony looks big enough for… social distancing” you could hear the smile in his voice even though you’d gone back to keeping your eyes shut, your arm got tired from keeping the sun from going into your eyes.
“How do you know I’m safe?’
He chuckled “You can just say no if you don’t want to”
But you kinda wanted him to, now “I don’t mind, you’ve been here long enough and seem perfectly healthy to me. But they’re gonna know if you use your card key”
“No need for that” you barely got a chance to furrow your brows at that before you heard shuffling and a loud thud and you sat back on your elbows looking at him hovering over you in that small balcony, that was, in fact, clearly not big enough for social distancing.
“Ok?” you couldn’t help but laugh “Guess you got it covered” He shrugged smilingly and then he went for his belt and you furrowed your eyebrows back “What are you doing?”
“Getting a tan?”
“I mean… yeah. Ok, I guess?” you tried your best to avert your gaze but when he dropped his jeans your eyes went straight to his tattoo on his thigh- was that a tiger?... This man. Fuck’s sake…
He then took off his t-shirt and your breath hitched. You hadn’t expected him to be this… muscular. And all those tattoos…. The laurels… the butterfly…
“Enjoying the view?” he smirked
You raised an eyebrow “You’re one to talk. You were practically ogling me just then”
“Never said I wasn’t” he winked as he made his way over to the other sunbed and plopped himself onto it unceremoniously.
You could feel yourself blush, so you turned over onto your stomach so that you could hide your face in your folded arms. You heard him hiss and you involuntarily turned to face him and caught him staring at your behind. Yeah. It was a bikini. Had he never seen ass cheeks before?
You meant to make a sarcastic remark but then your eyes drifted to his own crotch and you couldn’t help but notice the prominent tent in his briefs.
Your eyes lingered, against your better judgement, you just couldn’t help yourself. Maybe you were just sex starved, but this man was a work of art and you were merely mortal. Before you could talk yourself into looking away, his arm outstretched and grabbed the edge of your sunbed pulling it towards him so that both ended up perfectly aligned. You shrieked in surprise, exactly how strong was this guy? You couldn’t imagine that being easy.
“I’m done social distancing” he looked at you intently, his brows furrowed and you momentarily got lost in the proximity of him. He was so… simply, but effectively put, hot.
When your eyes dropped to his mouth he wasted no time, closing in the now small gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours and you felt all your senses catch on fire.
His skin was cooler against yours, which was now warm and toasty from staying out in the sun, and when his palm went to the small of your back you felt goosebumps all over your skin. He caressed the skin there, as his lips worked yours and you were surprised at yourself when you pushed your own tongue inside his warm mouth, desperate for more already. He hummed audibly and tugged at the strings holding your bathing suit’s top in place “Is this ok?”
“Yeah” you breathed against his lips and undid the strings at the nape of your neck as he pulled on the ones on your back. You then pushed yourself on your knees and let it fall on the sunbed eliciting a loud groan for him
“Fuck! C’mere. Want them in m’mouth” he held out a hand for you as you eagerly threw a leg over him, effectively straddling him and he waited no time in doing just that- grabbing your breasts firmly but gently and taking them in his eager mouth, one after the other.
You whimpered looking down at him, the sight was too good to be true. How did you ever end up across the wall from this adonis? He was truly spectacular, and those long locks of his were absolutely beautiful on him. You couldn’t help it when you reached out and threaded your fingers through his hair and when he sucked intently on your nipple you instinctively tugged at his roots
“Yes! Just like that. Ah, love the sting” he mumbled against your breasts as he stuck his tongue out flat, maneuvering each breast against it sloppily, coating them thoroughly in his saliva.
To that you couldn’t help yourself anymore, and you scooted down his body until you could feel him against you. Fuck, he was massive. You could feel it.
“Stop teasing” you said, out of breath “Been… social distancing for too long”
“Yeah? No holding back? Fuck!” he slapped your ass sharply earning a surprised yelp from you “Get me my jeans, will you, love?”
“You seriously carry them in your pants while self isolating?” you threw his jeans over at him and watched him fish out a condom from the backpocket
“You’re gonna be real happy I did in a minute. C’mere” he gestured in a come hither movement with his forefinger and you sat back on your own sunbed as per his instructions. He removed his briefs, his cock springing right up, hitting his navel and you bit your lower lip in anticipation.
“Gonna need you to take those off, sweetheart, hm?”
You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your bikini bottoms and discarded them, then spread your legs eagerly as he gave himself a few pumps over the condom.
“Fuck, you’re dripping” he hissed taking in your glistening core. The sun was still shining and you knew there was no use trying to deny it, yes he’d ruined your bikini from the moment he jumped over the partition.
He grabbed his length and drove it through your wet folds, and you rolled your eyes back. He was going to ruin you. He repeated the motion a couple times, applying firm pressure against your clit every time and you shuddered, your legs jerking reflexively.
“You’re sensitive, aren’t you kitten? Hm? Bet I can make you come just from this alone” he licked his lips as he watched almost as if transfixed as he ran his cock through your lips.
“Please don’t tease me” you repeated your earlier request, you were dying for him to drive into you already
He tsked “Not teasing if I get you off, hm?” he then smacked your clit sharply using his tip and you mewled pathetically “Love how responsive you are. Gonna have fun watching you come over and over”
“Please” you squirmed, trying to get closer
“Be patient. Gonna let you come in a moment. Wanna get you really worked up first…”
“I’m gonna burst” you huffed, impatiently
“Oh, I’ll make sure of it” he chuckled when he saw your eyes widen and then surprised you by landing his fingers sharply against your clit
“Ah!”
“Like that?”
“Yeah. Do it again” you begged
He smacked your pussy again and you couldn't help the loud moan. If there were any other residents in this hotel wing, though you doubted it, they were in for a show even if just audibly. He pushed you higher on the sunbed so that your torso was more upright “Pull m’hair. Love the pain, too”
You grabbed a lock and twisted it around your finger before tugging at it sharply and he ground his cock even harder against your throbbing cunt. You were beginning to think you really were going to come from that alone, and soon.
Watching him roll his eyes to the back of his head with each tug had you pull on it with both hands. Not enough to cause any breakage but definitely enough to make it sting.
He then tapped his cock rapidly against your clit and your heart rate escalated quickly “Ohh!!”
“C’mon, kitten. Come for me so that I can fuck you good. Come for me, beautiful, c’mon!” he commanded with one last smack to your clit using his hand and you arched right off the sunbed. You shrieked at the intensity but before you could even make sense of any of it you felt his lips wrap around your clit and he sucked intently, prolonging your orgasm considerably. He didn’t let up, even when you came down from your high, and even though your hands made their way back into his hair to try and pull him away from you, that wasn’t working in your favor as it only spurred him on.
You were definitely overly stimulated but after a few moments of discomfort you quickly skyrocketed into another fastly approaching orgasm “Oh my God! Oh God!”
To that he sunk a finger deep inside of you and pumped intently, his mouth never leaving your clit and you barely had time to register what was happening- you were coming again, faster and definitely harder.
He finally sat back on his heels, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand “Guess you did burst, didn’t you, kitten?”
You looked at him through hazy eyes and as the realization slowly hit you he was grabbing your thighs from under your knees, scooting you back lower on the sunbed “My turn” he bit his lower lip as he raised an eyebrow. He positioned himself at your entrance and stopped just before he nudged inside, adding with a smirk “M’Harry by the way. Just so you know what name to scream for this next part”.
lhh Masterlist
A/N: whew. ok. barely an one-shot but i tried!!!!! man... i can't keep it short, can i? 😅 trying my best with these next ones though
💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌
🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋
#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#lhh#long hair harry#harry styles blurb#harry styles concept#harry styles prompt#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfic#lhhconceptnight
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Klance Fanfic Recs No One Asked For
One Wheel Short - “Sometimes, I think the universe would be a lot better off without Lance McClain.” So we see how it looks.
Tags: Angsty, Character Death But It’s Just Lance, You Will Cry, Canon Divergent
Word Count: 234,645
Foreign Scenes - Lance finally goes through his dream trip abroad, and he meets someone who wants to see the same places he’s been wishing to see for years. Keith is trying to take pictures, and this random guy really likes to bother him.
Tags: Traveling AU, Slow-Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Word Count: 110,581
Call Me, Beep Me - Where Lance is given the wrong number by a pretty girl, and instead meets a pretty boy.
Tags: Wrong Number AU, Texting, Minor Shallura
Word Count: 85,591
Shake the Disease - Keith and Lance have to help a planet with an infectious disease, and they end up needing to quarantine. Cuteness ensues.
Tags: Minor Character Death, Sickfic, Mutual Pinning, Canon Divergent, Quarantine
Word Count: 55,390
Lilac Sweet - After a breach of trust in Lance with the team, the paladin is captured and kept not exactly held hostage by Lotor. The Galra happens to fall for him. With Lance, it’s… more complicated than that.
Tags: Drug Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Mutual Pining, Canon Divergent, Toxic Relationships (romantic and otherwise), and Langst
Word Count: 348,998
Hot Singles In Your Area - Lance falls in love with a sex line operator. Keith can’t help falling in love too.
Tags: Wrong Number AU, Smut, Phone Sex, Literally One Of My Favorite Ones
Word Count: 31,663
Like A Second Heart - After Lance loses his memory of the past couple of years, the team comes together, Keith included, to help Lance figure out everything he lost.
Tags: Memory Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergent
Word Count: 20,958
Hearts Don’t Break Around Here - Being best friends with Lance McClain isn’t easy. Particularly when you’re falling in love with him.
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Friends AU, This One’s A Banger
Word Count: 135,555
Homesick Space Camp - After weeks of being an asshole, Lance realizes it might be time to grow up. But then he and Keith kinda get stuck being faked married and you know, it gets hard after that.
Tags: Fake Relationship, Canon Divergent, Action, Political Intrigue, I Loved This One
Word Count: 74,280
Dirty Laundry - After lying to his family about who he’s bringing home, Lance figures that the best he can do is keep the lie, and the best deal he could come up with is brought up.
"Two whole months of free laundry in exchange for two weeks of being my fake boyfriend. Deal?"
Somehow, Keith says yes.
Tags: Fake Dating, AU, Light Hurt/Lot of Comfort
Word Count: 85,046
Lion Chain: Anthology - After the death of his work partner and friend, Keith returns to the funeral of Miguel Sánchez. There he meets Lance, Miguel’s younger brother, and starts thinking maybe he’d been correct all along. The two of them could become forever.
Tags: Military!AU, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 574,268
something just like this - Keith decides to be a counselor at camp Voltron and Lance really doesn’t like the Red cabin.
Tags: Smut, Fluff, Basically No Angst, Camp!AU
Word Count: 58,800
Drummer Boy - Keith is a drummer at a local bar Lance visits, and his eyes meet with ocean blue. Lance might not be completely straight, after all.
Tags: SMUT, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Content, Slow Burn, College!AU
Word Count: 50,188
And I’ll Form the Heart - Keith is writing Voltron, a fantasy novel that explores an intergalactic war. Problem? He can’t figure out the romance in it for the life of him. Lance thinks all he needs is a wingman to discover the real world first. We watch it all unfold.
Tags: College!AU, Lance Is A Wingman, Keith Is Oblivious, They’re Gay
Word Count: 65,747
Smokey the Bear Has Nothing On You - Keith, a firefighter, is reunited with his old crush/rival, Lance McClain, in Altea Elementary’s Safety day.
Tags: Firefighter!Keith, Teacher!Lance, Fluff
Word Count: 50,831
#klance#langst#fanfiction recs#fanfic recs#klance fics#voltron#voltron fic#klance recs#this is over three years of cream of the top fics ive read
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4 times his friends posted you on their instagram + 1 time he did - mat barzal
a/n: I wrote this literally back in july so lets just ignore how idealistic this is regarding quarantine but im a slut for some barzy this is all fluff
word count: 4,733
summary: like the title says, some friends (with benefits?) to lovers + a tyson cameo, fluffy summer quarantine fic
tagging @davidpastrsnack so kate can get on the barzy train
-
1.
To say the whole quarantine thing was an inconvenience was an understatement. School had ended online, your summer internship was cancelled, and it seemed like your summer would turn into an uneventful couple of months stuck in your apartment in, probably, the worst place to be stuck in during a pandemic: New York City.
Or so you thought.
You’d planned on having the most boring summer ever until your friend, Mat, had invited you to hole up away with him and a few friends in a lake house back in Vancouver. Well, friend was a loose term. The two of you were friends… just ones that kissed occasionally… and sometimes more than kissed. You’d met him about a year ago at a bar while he was out with his teammates after a game. A cliche meeting, but you hit it off instantly. Instead of ending up in his bed at the end of the night (which you would eventually end up at after a couple months), it turned into an exchange of numbers and an invitation to hang out later in the week.
You hadn’t thought anything of it at first, just thinking he was being friendly and wanting to end the conversation, so you were surprised to get a text the next day from an unknown number asking if you’d wanted to go on a bike ride.
Flashforward a year later and the two of you still went on bike rides together. At least, up until the pandemic started.
When the text came telling you to pack your bags for a month or so, you thought he was joking. Surely he couldn’t have meant you to join him in Vancouver over the summer? You were proven wrong when he showed up at your apartment the next day, two coffees in his hand.
“Uh, hi, Mathew,” you said hesitantly, opening your door to reveal your disheveled state, having just woken up.
“Why are you dressed like that? We have a plane to catch in four hours,” he said, pushing himself through your door, uninvited, to set the coffees on the counter.
“What are you doing here? What plane? You’re not supposed to be going out,” you reprimanded him for showing up unannounced and in the middle of quarantine.
“I told you we’re going to Vancouver, I know you read my text. Now let’s hurry up and pack, we gotta get going,” Mat rushed, already on the way to your bedroom.
You followed him after a brief moment once you’d processed what was going on. Mat had already pulled out your suitcase and set it on top of your bed by the time you entered the door. He was in the middle of rifling through your drawers and grabbing random garments to throw into the suitcase when you’d spoken again.
“You’re actually serious about this?”
“Of course I am. What better things do you have to do in a city on lockdown for an entire summer? Honestly, I’m doing you a favor,” he explained easily, turning back to grab more items.
“Oh, you’re doing me a favor? Thank you, Mat, for saving me from a summer of suffering. It’s not like I had other plans to find different internships or focus on my summer classes,” you replied sarcastically.
Mat rolled his eyes. “I am doing you a favor, and you’re doing me a favor by going. I need a hot piece of ass to get me through this, or I will lose my mind.” You slugged him on the shoulder in offense, but all he did was chuckle.
“And anyways, you can still do your classes in Vancouver. Instead of doing them locked in this apartment, you can do them lounged out under the Canadian sun. Preferably in a bikini,” he finished. You slugged his arm again, harder this time.
“In fact, you should take the red bikini, it makes your tits look amazing,” he said, noticing you shuffling through your swimsuits. You rolled your eyes at him but grabbed the red one anyway along with a couple others.
With both of you folding and packing, your bags were ready to go in record time.
“Alright, baby, let’s go.” And so you were off.
A week had gone by in total bliss. As much as you hated to admit it, Mat was right. Vacationing in Vancouver in a secluded lake house was a lot better than being alone in your apartment, even if you did still have classes to do. Mat teased you about it, but he always left you alone for a few hours in the day for you to focus on your work. Unless he really wanted something… like right now.
Mat had joined you laying on the couch while you were in the middle of annotating a book for class. He wiggled his way between your arms, causing you to break your hold on your book. He rested his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle, and nuzzled his face into your neck. Joining your hands back to your book and bringing your highlighter to the page, you continued to underline phrases you’d come back to later. A couple minutes passed in silence before Mat started sighing. And then he sighed again.
“What do you want?” you huffed out, closing your book with the pen marking your page.
“Let’s go swimming,” he said, pushing up to his elbows to look at your face.
“I have to finish, like, three more chapters today,” you explained.
“You can do that later. I want to go swimming now,” Mat whined.
“You know you sound like a petulant child right now, right?” you asked, moving a hand to his head, pushing his hair back as he pouted.
“Stop using big words on me. Let’s swim,” he said, rolling his eyes.
You paused to think about it for a moment, “Hmm… okay, I guess,” you said with a smile. Mat returned your smile with one of his own before hopping up to drag you to your room to change. It didn’t take much to convince you to swim. It was a really nice day out, and you didn’t really care to finish reading about 17th century philosophy.
You changed into your red bikini, Mat swapped his shorts for a pair of swim trunks, and threw on a backwards baseball cap. You went out back to join the rest of his friend group, who were in the process of loading up the boat with supplies and equipment.
“Oh, look, if it isn’t Brainiac and the Beast. Are you two finally going to go boating with us?” Tyson shouted from the dock. You rolled your eyes at his nickname they created for you and Mat. It had only been a week in Vancouver, but the chirps about you and school were tired by now.
“Princess here wants to swim in the pool, maybe next time!” you shouted back, pointing to Mat.
They laughed at your response, turning their attention back to the boat and running supplies to and from the house. You turned your attention back to Mat, who was taking off his hat and was about two seconds away from jumping in the pool.
“Mathew, stop!” you yelled out, “Get your ass over here!”
“What is it?” he asked, stopping just short of the deep end. He grumbled before marching over to you.
“You need to put sunscreen on first, dumbass,” you reprimanded. As you turned your back to grab the bottle of sunscreen, he rolled his eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mat,” you said sharply, turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”
You ignored him, opening the cap and squeezing lotion onto your hands. You gestured him to turn around, and you spread the lotion over it, making sure to rub it into his shoulders.
“I don’t see why I have to put sunscreen on. It’s not even that hot outside,” he muttered.
“First of all, you’re a dumbass. Second of all, heat doesn’t automatically mean the UV rays aren’t strong. And lastly, you’re white, baby, you’ll burn like a sun-dried tomato and being in water only increases the amount of sun you’re exposed to,” you explained, reaching up to rub some on his face.
“Sorry, Miss Meteorologist,” he grumbled, clearly not happy he’d lost this argument.
“One of us has to have brains. We can’t all get by on our good looks and skating ability,” you replied, slapping his cheeks when you were done for good measure.
“Okay, well, if you’re finally done,” you nodded in confirmation, “Let’s go.” He picked you up from under your thighs and ran at full speed towards the pool before you could even process what was happening. You screamed his name in protest begging him to put you down, claiming you hadn’t had time to put on sunscreen yet. He ignored you as he jumped into the deep end, dragging you with him.
You emerged from the water clinging to Mat’s wet body, your hair sopping and hanging over your face like you had come straight out of the movie The Grudge. Mat was laughing at your chaotic look, knowing you were well pissed at him. You jumped higher in the water on top of him to dunk his head under and tried your best to drown him.
It wasn’t until you were relaxing on the couch later that night doing your routinely social media scroll that you saw one of the guys recorded your sunscreen interaction by the pool, you calling Mat a dumbass, and him throwing you in the pool onto their instagram story with a caption “all these two do is fight” with some laughing crying emojis added for effect.
2.
After a long day or hiking, you’d immediately crashed on the couch once you’d gotten back to the house, not bothering to walk all the way to your room. It was only early in the afternoon but you’d been out since sunrise, and dealing with people for hours on end had drained you. The group laughed at you as you plopped your body down onto the couch, curling your head under your arm instead of grabbing the pillow two feet away from you. The rest of them gathered in the kitchen, refueling their bodies with assorted snacks as they started popping open bottles of beer, ready to start the night. It seemed that even an entire day on their feet had not emptied them of their, seemingly endless, energy.
“Jesus Christ, we hiked for, like, six hours and you’re all still bouncing off the walls,” you sighed deeply.
“We’re about to go hit the boat and go water skiing, too. I’m assuming you’re too tired to join us?” Tyson teased.
“I will not be joining you because unlike some people, I need a nap. Now get out of here, you’re all giving me a headache,” you said, pinching your fingers on the bridge of your nose to emphasize your point.
They all snickered but kept quiet as they shuffled around, packing up more food to take outside. You heard the sliding door shut and close a few times as they ran in and out before it was finally silent. You let out a sigh of relief as you took solace in the calm quiet.
That was until you felt a pair of arms shifting you closer to the edge of the couch. You peeked one eye open to see Mat rolling your body over to give him some space as he climbed over your body to nestle himself between you and the back cushions.
“Not going out on the boat?” You asked as he tucked a pillow under the both of your heads and pulled a blanket over your bodies.
“No. They’re exhausting. I need some time for myself,” Mat replied, wrapping his arm around your middle to pull you into his chest.
“No offense, but if you’re with me, you’re not by yourself,” you explained, closing your eyes again as you settled into a comfortable position.
“Yeah, but you’re you. You don’t exhaust me,” he said quietly. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t answer. Within a few seconds you heard Mat’s breathing even out, and you followed quickly behind him into a deep sleep.
-
A couple hours passed in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sliding of doors and laughter travel through the house. It stirred you from your sleep and you both shifted around, letting out displeased groans.
“Are they both still asleep?” You heard one of them ask from the kitchen. Neither of you wanted to answer in hopes they would leave you two to continue sleeping.
You were sadly mistaken.
“Hey! Sleeping beauties! Time to get up!” Tyson shouted from somewhere above you.
You both groaned out a “Fuck off, Tyson,” without opening your eyes, both of you giving him the middle finger. Tyson laughed to himself and you expected him to keep bothering you, but you heard his footsteps lead away from the couch. You turned over on your other side, tucking your face into Mat’s neck before falling back asleep.
-
When you woke up later that evening, you checked instagram again to see Tyson posted a new story. It was the video of him bothering you two and flipping him off with a caption that said “I get no respect around here :(“
3.
It had been raining all day. Which meant everyone was stuck inside watching movies and eating pizza. It didn’t take long for you to get bored of lounging on the couch, especially when all they wanted to do was watch Fast and Furious movies. You sat on the loveseat you were sharing with Mat, and you distracted yourself from the boring movie by tangling your hands in your hair, French braiding the strands into pigtails mindlessly. You unbraided and rebraided your hair into a fishtail after the pigtails, and then into a regular braided ponytail after that. You let yourself get caught up in daydreams as you stared blankly at the TV when Mat started tugging on your leg. Dropping your braid, you finished tying it off with a hair tie and turned to look at him.
“Let me practice on you,” Mat said quietly.
“Practice what?” You asked.
“Braiding,” he said, shuffling to sit upright. He tried to gently push you off the couch until you got the hint and moved to sit between his legs on the floor.
“You think you can do it?” You asked, ready to offer him a demonstration.
“I’ve been watching you for the past half hour, I got this,” he replied, pulling out your hair tie. You rolled your eyes at his confidence, but let him continue unraveling the strands.
Every few minutes Mat would sigh exasperatedly before pulling out the twists he’d made to start over. Eventually, he’d almost gotten all the way to the end of your hair before he sighed again, clearly fed up by how long this was taking him. You didn’t say anything as he restarted for a third time, going for a straight back braid instead of a French braid.
After another ten minutes, Mat had finally completed his simple braid, tying your hair off with the tie. He tapped your shoulder to indicate he was done, and you pulled the long tail over your shoulder to look at it.
It was a braid.
An extremely loose one where he mixed up the strand order in a couple places, but a braid nonetheless. You turned around to get back up on the couch, and you were met with his triumphant smile.
“Good job, bud,” you complimented, leaving the braid in as you resumed your previous position on the couch.
-
You checked your phone to find a notification of a new story tag. You opened the app to see a picture of you on the floor, staring at the TV while Mat had his hands twisted in your hair and a confused look on his face and tongue poking out of his mouth. Next to your instagram tag was “he’s been knotting her hair on purpose for 20 minutes now”
4.
Your final exams for the summer classes you were taking were in a week. Finals stressed you out more than anything else in the world, and when you were stressed, you did a lot of baking. A lot of baking. After finishing your finals study schedule and nearly breaking down almost twice because of the amount you had to get done, you decided to start baking instead of going to sleep. So, at 3 in the morning when everyone was asleep, you’d turned on the oven and brought out the bowls.
It began with a few dozen cookies. You figured everyone could at least enjoy the cookies. Who didn’t like cookies?
Cookies turned into muffins, muffins into cupcakes, and then cupcakes into pies. By the time everyone was waking up, it was nearly eleven in the morning. You’d gone to the store twice and had taken a few twenty minute naps while you waited for your desserts baked in the oven. And right now, you were in the middle of finishing off some cinnamon rolls for breakfast
“Oh my god, what the hell happened here?” Mat had asked with a scared expression, taking note of the disastrous kitchen. You didn’t answer him as you were topping off the rolls with some icing.
A few more bodies had gathered in the kitchen and began to fill the seats at the countertop while they watched you with worried eyes.
“What?” You asked innocently, placing the plates of cinnamon rolls in front of all of them. Their eyes followed you carefully as you pulled more goods out of the oven where you were keeping them warm. Plate after plate you set on the counter, all the cookies and muffins and cakes.
“How long have you been up?” Tyson asked cautiously. You swear you’ve never heard him use a softer voice than right now.
“I’m not sure. I never went to sleep, I guess? What time is it now?” You asked, pulling out glasses for orange juice.
“Nearly noon. You seriously didn’t sleep?” Tyson asked. The others had delved into the confections, eyes bouncing between the two of you as they stuffed their faces.
“She’s stress baking,” Mat replied quietly, helping himself to a cinnamon roll.
“What the hell is tress baking?” One of the other guys asked.
“Yeah she does this when she’s stressed. Usually when finals are coming up,” Mat said, directing it more towards you than his friend. You gave him a sheepish look, deciding not to comment since he already answered for you.
Mat was used to your stress baking as it resulted in you showing up at his place in the middle of the night with bags full of pastries in the late hours of the evening. It was always against his diet and he frequently gave most of your desserts to his neighbor, but he could never tell you no when you arrived with gifts.
“Well, I’m all out of flour, so, I’m going to run to the store again to get some more supplies so I can make a chocolate cake later,” you said hurriedly.
You did a quick double check of the kitchen, flashing all the guys a bright smile before heading out the door with your purse in hand, all of them staring until the front door shut behind you.
-
When you came back, you found Mat in the kitchen doing the dishes and nearly all the sweets you’d baked earlier were eaten or wrapped and put away. Maybe there was a plus side to being in a home with five other people.
“Mat, you don’t have to do that,” you said, setting your groceries down and hip checking him away from the sink.
“You’re already stressed, I figured doing the dishes would take away some of that,” he said with a shrug. He continued rinsing out some bowls as you gave him a small smile.
The two of you continued to wash the dishes in silence, moving to clean the countertops when you were done. After half an hour, the mess you’d made was gone and any signs of a baking breakdown had been erased.
It was a shame you were about to tear up the kitchen all over again.
“How about this,” Mat said, noticing the frown on your face at the thought of making another mess, “Let’s have a competition.”
You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m listening.”
“You said you were making a chocolate cake, right? How about we see who can make the better cake,” Mat propositioned.
You raised both your eyebrows this time. You both knew you were the better baker by a long shot. You did have this same breakdown at least twice a year. You weren’t even sure Mat knew how to make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or included possible salmonella-inducing ingredients.
You knew what he was really trying to do. He was trying to distract you from all the stress, and he knew you couldn’t turn down a competition. You were just as bad as him when it came to winning. Thankfully, this was something you knew you’d win.
“Fine, but I hope you’re prepared to lose,” you agreed with a smile.
“I don’t know, I have been practicing my cooking skills lately,” he said, grabbing the bowls he’d just dried off.
“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied with an eye roll and heavy sarcasm.
You joined him in gathering all the ingredients and materials on the counter, setting up your respective stations. Mat divided the workspace in half, drawing a line in flour which made you laugh. You split the bowls between the sides and set up the ingredients on the second counter just like an actual cooking show.
“Okay, ground rules first. Half an hour to make the cakes, we bake them at the same time, and then another half hour for decorating at the end,” you explained, tying your hair back in a ponytail. Mat nodded at your statement and set a timer on his phone for 30 minutes.
“Ready.”
“Set.”
“Go!”
-
After about two hours, your creations were done. Well, they were supposed to be. Mat’s cake looked more or less like a brown lump coated in frosting and stripes. You’d tried your best to decorate yours with small chocolate roses, but you could’ve turned out a plain cake and probably would have done better.
“I think I won,” you stated confidently.
“You’re not allowed to decide, you’re biased! I’ll make a poll on my story,” Mat said, going to grab his phone.
“You can’t do that, your followers are going to pick yours.”
“Fine, we’ll get someone else to do it— Josty! Come here,” Mat called to his friend passing through the kitchen. He hesitantly walked over to where you were, not wanting to come in the middle of whatever you two were shouting about.
“We need you to make an instagram poll to see who’s cake looks better. Oh, and you’re going to taste test them,” you said, picking up your cake to pose for a picture as Mat did the same. Tyson sighed before realizing you two were serious and he opened his app to take a picture.
He added the photo to his story with a poll asking “Which one is better?” With two options, Y/N’s or Mat’s.
After you set the cakes back down, Tyson picked up a fork before stabbing them to pick out a chunk from each. He ate yours first, nearly moaning at the taste.
“Holy shit, this is, like, the best cake I’ve ever eaten,” Tyson said, shoveling down another forkful. You gave Mat a shit-eating grin.
“Okay, okay, try mine now,” Mat said, displeased. Tyson rolled his eyes before forking out some of his.
“Uh,” he coughed, “it’s a little,” cough, “dry.”
“What? No, it’s not! Let me try,” Mat shouted, outraged, and grabbed Tyson’s fork to try for himself.
It took him two seconds before he was spitting the cake into a napkin.
“Fine. You win,” Mat conceded, throwing a dish towel against the counter in mock fury.
You gloated for another 5 minutes, pointing out Mat’s terrible baking skills as Tyson continued to eat your cake and laugh at Mat.
You won the instagram poll too.
+ 1
It was the last week before you and Mat were flying back to New York. The past month had passed quickly, and Mat needed to get back for the start of training camps. As the summer began to end, the whole crew thought they’d spend one last day on the boat before everyone started parting ways.
It’s not like you were opposed to being on boats, but when all the guys did was water sports and no one wanted to slow down to teach you, it wasn’t as fun.
Today, however, had been quite calm as you sat against the front of the boat, a seltzer in hand as you watched Tyson wakeboarding in the back. Mat was curled up behind you as you leaned back against his chest, tanned skin shining in the summer sun. You reached back to grab the baseball cap off his head, placing it on yours to shield your eyes from the sun. You’d forgotten to bring sunglasses, and you figured Mat could part with his hat since he had a pair.
The day passed peacefully as all the guys took turns until it was sunset. Mat had joined you back on the seat, skin wet from just getting out of the water. He wrapped you in his arms before pulling you onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Hey, Tys, take a picture of us real quick,” Mat said, shoving his phone into Tyson’s chest.
You thought nothing of it, you and Mat had taken many pictures together, and this was no different. Mat rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach as you both gave your cheesiest smiles to the camera. A quick shutter indicated the picture was taken and Tyson gave Mat his phone back.
-
Mat called your name from your bed as you stood in the adjoined bathroom, finishing your nightly routine.
“Hey, do you mind if I post that picture of us on my instagram?” Mat called out.
“The one from the boat? Why?” You asked, drying off your face with a towel.
“It’s a cute picture,” he shrugged when you reentered the room.
“People are going to start talking if you do,” you warned with a cautious tone.
He paused for a second.
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Mat asked quietly, looking up to meet your eyes.
You stayed silent as you climbed in under the covers.
“What are you trying to say, Mat?”
He took a deep breath, “I think you’re amazing, you know that. And we’ve been friends for so long, it kind of feels natural, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tapping against the sheets anxiously as he held his breath and waited for your response.
You gave him a small smile, moving your body around to fully face him.
“It does,” you agreed, “But if you want us to be something more, you’re going to have to ask me on a date first.”
“A date? After I’ve already gotten you into bed? What’s the point?” You knew he meant it as a joke since he could barely finish the sentence without laughing, but you gently slapped his head as he began to apologize.
“I’m kidding!” He said between chuckles, “Will you go on a date with me once we get back to New York and it’s safe to go out again?”
“I’d love to, Mat,” you replied, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss.
“I’m still going to post that photo tomorrow, though,” he said after a short pause, smiling against your lips.
-
The next day when Mat had gone on a fishing trip with the guys, you saw a notification pop up on your phone.
“@barzal97 tagged you in a photo”
You unlocked your phone.
“Isolation isn’t so bad when you have this girl to spend it with”
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okay so I love littlemix!reader x Tom holland??? the best pairing ever??? Anyways could you do something based of Holiday, like it’s obviously based off their lovers and maybe his reaction to the song & mv? Pls I’m in love with Baby Mix btw 😌❤️
Glad you’re enjoying the Little Mix member!reader x Tom Holland fics, I’m enjoying them too🥰 Thank you for the support on Baby Mix, btw, I appreciate it! Sorry for taking so long! Much love and happy reading💖
💌.
Holiday
I completely forgot when the girls dropped the video so I’m making up a time. Enjoy:)
Counting down the minutes to midnight, Tom continuously refreshed the YouTube app on your smart tv. The two of your were in his shared home with Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine. You’ve been staying with the lot since the beginning of quarantine; London’s travel ban prevented you from catching a flight back home to your family, resulting in your boyfriend, Tom, begging you to stay with him and his mates. You didn’t have a problem with it in all honesty, the boys were great and respectful roommates. Though you were the only woman in the house, they provided you with entertainment and respected your alone time. They were a nice group of lads, letting you in on inside jokes and making you feel like you were part of the gang. By now, you probably were part of the gang. Harrison even considered on replacing Tom with you.
“Bubs, the video’s not gonna be up yet.” You glance at the screen that showed the previous videos the band’s channel posted. Tom huffed, nudging your arms apart so he can squeeze through them to lay on your chest. The two of you were currently in his room waiting for the release of Holiday’s music video. Tom had been anticipating the video all day, asking for hints about the music video’s concept and wondering how it looked.
With his body snuggled up against yours, he rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arm around your torso. His other hand reached towards the tv with the remote as he clicked the video for Break Up Song.
“I know it’s not gonna be up yet, but what if they accidentally uploaded it early? I wanna see the video already.” He whined. His fingers began to drum to the beat of Break Up Song on your stomach.
You laughed, fingers carding through his brown curls that have grown for the past months. He hums along to the song while you text the girls. He lets out a chuckle once he sees you on the screen doing the dance that he’s been helping you learn for the video. You had been struggling to get the choreography down and doing the moves on time. Noticing your desperate attempts at the moves, Tom offered to help you. Obviously in the end you perfected the choreography, seeing as it made the video, thanks to Tom.
“You are so cute.” He mused watching you dance around in the video. “Look at you dance, I don’t know what you were so worried about. You look so adorable when you dance and look at your face! Just wanna squish those cheeks together.” He began to tease you. You whine his name out as he reached up to squish your cheeks together with his hand. Your phone began to rang causing him to stop. He glances at the sceeen, “It’s my best friend, lemme answer it.”
“Go ahead.” You giggled handing him your phone. His head remains on your chest as he answers the FaceTime call. Jesy pops up on the screen with a giant smile but it drops once she sees Tom, changing into a playful scowl.
“Hi best friend!” Tom greets her loudly, a playful grin on his face. Jesy rolls her eyes at the boy.
“Hi Tom.” She greeted him sarcastically. “Give the phone to (y/n).”
“She’s right here, see,” Tom moved the phone further away so you were both in the frame. You waved at her, “Jess I miss you!” You cried.
“I miss you too darling—Tom give her the bloody phone!” Jesy scolded him through the phone. He let out a dramatic sigh before handing you your phone and snuggling into your stomach, mumbling something about “not being able to catch a break from the constant bullying of Jesy Nelson.”
“Right just a few minutes left, I’m trying to get the other girls on here.” Jesy explained as she tapped around her phone. Sooner or later. The two of you were joined by Perrie, Jade, and Leigh-Anne.
Perrie let out a squeal as she saw everyone on the screen, “You guys I miss you so much!”
“Didn’t we all see each other just a few weeks ago?” Jade asked sipping on a glass of wine as per usual.
“Yeah, on the set, but it’s a few weeks too long.” You pouted. You noticed that everyone was drinking except for you, “Wait, has everyone got a drink except for me?”
Leigh-Anne’s eyes scanned everyone on the screen, “You are, are you in bed already? It’s so early babe.”
“Leigh-Anne’s it’s literally about to be midnight, it’s late.” Jesy chimes. Jade makes a sound of disagreement, “I mean does time even matter anymore?”
“What day is it anyway? I’ve lost track.” Perrie thought out loud. You moved to get up from the bed but Tom stopped you. “Where are you going?” He whispered.
“I’m getting a drink, I’ll be back.” You patted his cheek before sitting up. He stops you once again and stands from the bed, “I’ll get you one.” He kisses your temple and leaves the room.
“Aww, was that Tom?” Jade asked leaning closer to her camera. You hummed, “Yup, being the amazing boyfriend he is and getting me a drink.”
Perrie smirked at you, “Gosh, there’s that smile again. She’s whipped for ‘im ladies!” The girls began “ooo-ing” like a bunch of elementary school girls. “Guys, stop.” You whine.
“Have you told him the part you wrote was inspired by him?” Leigh-Anne asked, chin in her palm.
“No, I’ll tell him while he’s watching. He’s been so excited the whole day, probably more than me.” You chuckle. As if on cue, Tom comes back in with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
“Tom’s going to be so nerdy about it, like a cute nerdy, you know what I mean? All mushy gushy. Like how he gets whenever (y/n) kisses his cheeks.” Jesy said as the girls cooed. Tom peeks from beside you.
“Did I hear that correctly? Did Jesy just compliment me?” He asked everyone, looking back at you for confirmation. You shrugged as you looked at Jesy. Jade stifled a laugh at Jesy’s annoyed expression.
“Oh fuck off you div. It’s an observation. You could barely compose yourself whenever you’re around (y/n).” Jesy playfully jabs at him. You adored their friendship, it was like a brother/sister bond. Jesy being the older sibling and Tom being the annoying little brother.
“Jes, leave the poor boy alone, he makes our baby happy.” Perrie defended Tom. Tom smiles thankfully at her, “Thank you Perrie, at least I know some of you like me.”
Tom pops open the champagne and takes one of the glasses to pour the beverage in, “But I’ll take it as a compliment Jes. Cheers to that.” He raises his glass and clinks it with your phone screen. You and the girls continue to talk until midnight. When the video was finally released you all celebrated and took some screenshots of each other to post later.
When your FaceTime call with the girls ended, you turned to Tom, who already had the video up on the screen. He made grabby hands at you and pulled you to sit in between his legs. With his back against the headboard he made sure the two of you were comfy before asking you, “Can I click play now?”
You chuckled at him as his leg bounced, “Yup.” He pressed play, placing the remote down and wrapping his arm around your front to pull you closer to him. The intro to the video starts, the title of the song appearing on the screen in a water type font. Jesy pops up on the screen singing her part, Tom cheers yelling “It’s my best friend!”
Tom hypes each of the girls up while they appear on the screen, cheering their names. When the chorus comes, his brows furrow as he looks down at you. “Wait where are you? Why—why didn’t they show you yet?” He questioned you, visibly upset. You were about to answer but instead pointed to the screen when you realized your part was coming up.
Boy, have I told ya?
You give it to me like no other guy
We got that heat, yeah, like the summer (summer)
And that's why I'm so glad I made you mine
You appeared on the screen, body cladded in a white bikini that had gold straps for both the bra and thong. You bursted out laughing when you saw Tom’s reaction. His eyes look like they were about to bulge out his head while his jaw was slacked.
“Holy...shit.” He mumbled eyes glued to the screen as you sang. The scene was you in that blue hallway type set. You looked at the camera, bedroom eyes fully activated as your back slid down the wall. You felt his grip around you tighten, his breathing getting deeper.
The scene changed to the one with the planets, sculptures, and lounging chairs. You were seen walking towards a Chaise lounge, giving the camera a perfect view of your bum. While you sat sideways on the couch in the video, Tom couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you looked in the video. You looked like a goddess, confident as you strutted around in that little number of yours in the video.
You turned to look at him once your part was done and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You know my whole part was about you right?” His head snaps to look at you, “You wrote something about me in a song?”
“Tommy, I always do. Who else would I be singing about?” You asked him amused. He took a second to think before shaking his head, “I thought it was in general, like it was based on how you would feel if you were with someone that made you feel that way.”
You nod at his explanation, “Well yeah, the fans could see it that way. But when I sing it, it’s about you.”
A goofy grin made its way to his face before he giggled, “It’s about me.” He pulled you into a hug from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He turned back to the tv to see you all dressed as mermaids while you sang your part in the chorus.
“Wait what—you’re mermaids?” The look of confusion appeared on his face again as he tried to figure out the video. He looked at you then back to the screen, repeating the action a few times.
“I never thought I’d say this, but if you were a mermaid, I’d still fuck you.” He confessed with a shrug. You bursted out laughing at his confession, “How do you even fuck a mermaid, Tom?”
His hands gripped your sides, voice going down an octave, “You tell me, (y/n). Get the mermaid tail back and we’ll find out.” You looked at him shocked, “Thomas!”
He laughed dropping the act and went back to watching the music video. “Wait, I’m still cofused. I thought you guys were in space cause of the planets and stuff. Why are you guys also underwater? And mermaids?” You tilted your head trying to come up with an answer for him.
“Um—it’s a spa, on a another planet, which also has an ocean I’m guessing, and that’s why we’re also mermaids?” You explained, also questioning yourself.
“I like the concept, probably the most random video you guys have had, but it’s sick.” He approved of the video with an impressed look on his face. When the video ended, he immediately pressed replay. Though when your part came up this time he let out a “GOD DAMN” before his eyes scanned you up and down. When he finally felt like he’s processed the music video, he let it play in the background and paid attention to you.
He leaned down to kiss your lips sweetly, “Love, that was amazing. I’m proud of you.” He was quick to add on, “And thank you for writing a part of the song about me, I never thought someone would write a song about me, not even a part. But thank you, I love you so much.”
You giggled shoving your face into his neck as you both moved to cuddling. Suddenly you remembered something you and the boys promised to do.
“Tom! We were supposed to watch the video with the other boys! Remember we promised to not watch it without them?” You leaned back to look at Tom who was already shaking his head.
“Oh they’re not allowed to watch the video.” He muttered. Your brows furrow at him. Tom motions to the tv, the part where your bum was facing the camera on the screen.
“Because of that, I don’t need them seeing that, that’s mine.” One of his hands trail down the length of your back to grip your ass. He rolled over so he was on top of you, dipping his head into your neck, his lips ghosted fluttery kisses along your skin. You let out a content sigh, running your hands through his soft hair. When his lips reached your ear, he whispered, “But seriously though, you should think about investing in a mermaid tail.”
#marvel#mcu#avengers#Tom Holland#Tom Holland x reader#Tom Holland imagine#tom holland fluff#tom holland one shot#tom holland drabble#tom holland headcanon#little mix#jesy nelson#jade thirlwall#perrie edwards#leigh anne pinnock#ally’s requests
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Jingle My Bells
Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.
Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife
Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).
Gif by @littlefreya and used with her kind permission.
Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.
Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites. I don’t run a tag list.
Jingle My Bells
Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.
And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.
"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;
"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"
"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.
Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;
"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"
"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa"
With a groan your husband released you;
"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"
-
Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;
"Hennn…." You purred
"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"
"Are you free this afternoon?"
He sighed over dramatically;
"What do you need?"
"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"
Henry let out a snort of laughter;
"I've met your class… some of them are…"
"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"
"Hmmmmnn"
"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"
Henry sighed;
"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"
“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”
He sighed;
“Okay, make it thirty minutes”
-
If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.
By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.
When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk.
Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;
“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”
Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;
“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”
You wriggled on your lap;
“Oh I've been Naughty…”
Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;
“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;
“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.
You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;
“Hen! We’re at school!”
“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”
His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;
“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”
Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;
“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”
“Tights” you corrected
“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”
Grinning you turned your head;
“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”
Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;
“Really?”
“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”
With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body.
Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;
“C’mon, lets get home”
Taking a deep breath you smiled;
“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”
Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;
“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you
“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”
The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;
‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’
Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;
“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”
You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.
#henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x you#au rugby henry cavill#henry cavill smut#henry cavill rpf
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Text
Good Point
Summary: The reader isn’t too happy when the number on the scale has gone up during quarantine despite their best efforts to be healthier recently. Dean however has a different viewpoint that helps put things into perspective...
Pairing: AU!Dean x reader
Word Count: 1,000ish
Warnings: language, body image issues, life in the time of coronavirus
A/N: Moral of the story, focus on how you feel instead of a number. Enjoy!
_____
“How? Like how the fuck did you go up!” you said. You stepped off the scale and groaned, finishing pulling on a bra and underwear. Dean hummed as he stepped inside and you angrily brushed your teeth. He whistled to himself as he picked up the scale from the floor, tucked it under his arm and walked out with it. You rinsed out your mouth and caught up with him in the garage where he chucked it in the trash. “Why’d you throw the scale away? I just bought it a few months ago.”
“Because you are obsessing way too much over a stupid number.”
“Quarantine fifteen is a real thing, Dean. I legit gained like ten pounds.”
“Yet you look tinier than ever. I wonder why,” he said as he pushed you back inside.
“I haven’t worn jeans in like...I don’t even remember.”
“Oh yes. I’m quite upset about you in leggings all the time. We’ll have to have a serious chat about that,” he said with a smirk.
“Dean! I need the scale if I’m trying to lose weight,” you said. He caught your arm as you tried to go past him. You growled and he cocked his head.
“You gained ten pounds is what you’re saying.”
“Yes! I want to lose that and then some. I’m overweight.”
“Right, right. Who says you're overweight?”
“Height. Weight. BMI. Overweight,” you said as you pointed at yourself.
“Hm, I see. BMI is a load of shit you know, right? Like okay, you weigh ten pounds more than you did before we started staying home all the time.”
“Exactly! You got skinnier and I got-”
“I lost a little muscle so I look smaller. You gained muscle and lost fat because you started working out so the stupid scale says yes, you weigh more but it doesn’t mean you gained fat. You literally lost it and got the good stuff instead. I mean seriously have you seen your ass lately?”
“I know it got bigger, Dean.”
“It got perkier and round and firm and I loved it before but I love this ass too. All I’m saying sweetheart is that I see the changes you don’t. You have not gained weight. You’re stronger. You’re happier. Your thighs could happily kill a man. I threw away the scale because you’re ignoring all the actual physical and good changes in your body for a stupid ass number.”
“My pants fit tighter you know. How’s that a good thing?”
“Maybe cause your ass and thighs have toned muscle? So eventually those spots will slim even more? You can’t change the size of your bones sweetheart.”
“You wear smaller jeans than I do.”
“So? You have hips. I don’t.”
“Dean.”
“You want proof? Fine,” he said. He went into the family room and picked his computer up off the couch. He played around with it for a moment before he spun it around.
There was a picture on the left of you in a bikini from your trip in January to the Florida keys. Then there was one on the right of you in a bralette and underwear, hair tossed up in a messy bun while you had baked a batch of cookies the night before.
The angles, the lighting, the outfits were all different. You knew for a fact you weighed more now than back then.
But fuck you actually did look tinier and leaner now. There was some definition and your ass certainly did look better.
But you weighed more.
But you looked smaller.
“Sweetheart, do you get what I’m trying to say? Fuck that stupid little number. You’re healthy. You’re strong. You look as hot as ever,” he said.
“I guess you might have a point,” you said. He smiled and shut his laptop, setting it down on the couch before he pulled you into his arms. “It’s just...I wish I could fit into smaller stuff sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because then that means I probably don’t weigh as-”
“No. I asked why do you want to wear smaller clothes?”
“Because that’s what’s, you know…”
“Ah. Well I better get started on my six pack abs if we’re going to go by what the beauty industry tells us we have to look like,” he said.
“Dean. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I won’t if you aren’t.”
“...Stop having good points,” you said.
“I’ll do my best,” he said. “Please try not to care about this so much anymore, sweetheart. For me?”
“I’ll leave the scale in the garbage,” you said. Dean kissed your temple and you shrugged. “I’ll do my best to think about how I feel more than a number, okay?”
“It’s all I ask,” he said. “Actually I do ask for one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t really need to finish getting dressed today do you?” he grinned.
“I was actually gonna wear my hooded onesie,” you said as his eyes went wide. “It’s rainy out. We could do a onesie day?”
“You had me at onesie,” he said as he started to skip upstairs. “I’ll toss yours down.”
“Thanks, Dean,” you said. You went over to the couch, leaning over the back as you opened his laptop back up and looked at the pictures again. You smiled before something fleece was tossed over your back.
“Y/N...don’t obsess over the pictures,” he said, now sporting his red hoodie onesie.
“I’m not. Just reminding myself to never go solely off a scale again.”
“Good,” he said. You slipped into your onesie and zipped it up, Dean pulling your hood down over your face. “Love you.”
“Love you too, De.”
_______
#spn#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#dean winchester#dean#dean x#dean x you#comfort fic#spn dean fanfiction#dean fanfiction#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x
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