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bakugoshrimp · 3 years

Text

Comfort

Where Y/N has a breakdown, and Bakugo helps.

Pairing: Bakugo x Female!Y/N

Word Count: 1.3k words

A/N: So uhh, I feel like i took a lot of creative liberties here, but yeahh. This is purely self indulgent and ngl, most likely OOC (Out of Character) Bakugo. It also might seem dramatic considering she had a breakdown over a single grade, but again, it’s purely self-indulgent and yes I imagined this whole thing to calm myself down . Please be nice, but constructive criticism is welcome! Also, I have no clue what universe they’re in but its like a mix between BNHA and our reality lmao. Also I might come back to this and fix up grammatical errors and anything that sounds weird, and change up the title bc I’m extremely uncreative help.

Song: Ribs by Lorde (I’m in a Lorde phase don’t mind me)

It was loud. Loud in your head, loud in your ears, just loud. You tried to stop the feeling of numbness, tried to drown out the screaming thoughts by quickly stuffing your earphones into your ears, and increasing the volume of the music blasting through your earphones, tried to ignore the pain in your heart.

My mom and dad let me stay home; It drives you crazy, getting old; This dream isn't feeling sweet; We're reeling through the midnight streets; And I've never felt more alone; It feels so scary, getting old;

You tried to stop the tears from spilling as the meaning of everything just hit you, hit you so hard it just left you reeling, as you tried to reel all the thoughts all the feelings back into your heart, just to get everything to stop. You just wanted everything to stop, you didn't wanna feel hurt anymore; didn't want to feel scared anymore didn't want to feel pain anymore; it was all just so exhausting.

But your brain wouldn't listen to you; drowning you with the thoughts swirling so fast you can only understand fragments of them. You can barely remember what happened as you ran out of the class, and to your room; lights off as you just curled up under your blanket, cuddling your plushie so hard as you tried, and failed, to keep the tears from falling.

It took him a total of 10 minutes for him to find you. He hadn't missed the heartbroken look on your face when they all received the marks for their weekly biology quizzes at the end of their class; hadn't missed the panic and exhaustion threading through your every movement for the month as you struggled to finish the overwhelming amount of assignments.

He watched you as you waited until the classroom was empty when you tried to discretely flee to privacy, packing up your stuff as fast as you could, but not before he caught a glimpse of the big fat F scrawled on top.

Cussing every single teacher under his breath, he jumped out of his seat. He knew you wanted to specialize in biology, and knew every single dream and worry you had, having spent nights just whispering to each other everything on nights you couldn't sleep from everything.

He quickly followed you, knocking softly on the door to your room before slipping in, closing the door softly behind him because he knows how much you hate to cry in front of others; knows how much you hate showing this one weakness in front of others. You two were a lot alike in that regard.

Crouching down in front of the bed, he uncovered your tear-stricken face from under the blanket, suppressing a wave of anger at everyone who made you cry. Your eyes were bloodshot, your eyelids swollen from all the tears.

You flinched slightly at the cool air sitting your wet face, a sharp contrast to the suffocatingly humid temperature under the blanket. You already knew who it was, had memorized the sound of his footsteps, but didn't dare to look at him, scared of crying if you do.

"Why am I such a failure?" your hoarse voice was the only sound in the still room, hands still gripped tightly around your plushie.

Bakugo chuckled slightly, clambering into your bed and hugged you, your tears wetting his dry shirt. "I ask myself that too, you know. Why are you such a dumbass?"

A strong rough hand, gently but firmly gripped your chin, making your watery eyes meet his soft and determined crimson eyes. "Y'know, maybe you're a dumbass, but that doesn't make you a failure."

"But I'm failing everything. This fricking course-"

"Two quizzes and an essay does not mean everything. You still have time, and you will still excel. And you can say f**ck you to those who say otherwise. So you bombed this quiz; that doesn't mean it's the end of the world for you. So many people around the world fail, but those experiences will only make them stronger and more fierce than ever." He said fiercely, fire red eyes burning into yours. "Why do you think we train so much? It's to make us make mistakes, and to learn from them."

His warm lips touched your forehead in an endearing kiss, and added, "If you want, I can blow them out of the sky for you."

You let out a watery giggle, and took a shuddering breath, inhaling his caramel scent and cologne.

"So what do you do now?" Bakugo asked, after a few minutes of quiet contemplation.

You simply burrowed your head further into his chest, your voice muffled as you said "I don't wanna do anything; I just wanna sleep here with you forever."

Bakugo threw his head back as he barked out a rough laugh. "You and I know that's not possible, teddy bear. Plus would you let this one puny mark beat you down? Come on, you and I both know you're much stronger than that."

"No I'm not." was your only reply.

At that, Bakugo rolled off the bed, snatching the plushie from your arms as he stood up, the sudden loss of his body heat and the comforting weight of said plushie from your arms eliciting a whine.

"Give it back," you whined, making grabby arms in Bakugo's general direction as you shoved your face into your pillow.

"Nope, not until you admit to yourself that you're a much stronger person than you give yourself credit for," Bakugo demanded.

"But that would be lying, and you hate lying." You accused, shooting up and turning around to face him.

He simply leaned in, close enough that your noses are almost touching. "That's why you wouldn't be lying. Say it, or the stupid ugly thing gets it." To prove his point, tiny explosions crackled off his unoccupied hand.

"Hey!" you protested "it's not stupid nor ugly; it's just old. Stop bullying it."

"Then say it."

"Fine. I'm a strong person. Happy?"

"Say it with conviction and believe in it too, dumbass."

You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes as you said "I'm a strong person, and I won't let some puny stupid marks break me down because I'm much better than that."

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he leaned in and pecked your lips as he threw the plushie onto your bed. "Now get up. We have our chem lab report due midnight and I still haven't started mine, and I know you didn't start yours yet."

You grumbled as you stood up and stretched, "I hate school."

Bonus:

Bakugo grumbled over the stove, stirring the noodles as a delicious smell wafted around the mini kitchen. You were sitting on the counter nearby, hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate (it was originally black tea but Bakugo had swapped it quick so you would be able to sleep tonight), legs swinging slightly as you drifted away in your thoughts.

The explosive blonde turned around, smacking you back to reality with his wooden spoon. “Oi dumbass, stay with me here.”

He was well aware of your ability to dwell on past mistakes, even after your tears were long dried, which was the only reason why he decided to let you bully him into making fried noodles at 11 pm after both of you had successfully submitted your assignments.

You jolted back into reality, blinking at him. “Yeah I’m here don’t worry, ‘Suki”

He merely hmphed before turning to the stove, turning it off before separating the hot food into two different plates. Handing one to you, he gestured to the nearby table with his chin. After both of you finished your meals, a comfortable silence falling between you two as you simply enjoyed each others presence. Scooting your chair loudly to be next to his, you smacked your possibly greasy lips against his cheeks much to his disgust, and laid your head on his shoulder.

“ ’Suki?” you said, earning a questioning hrm from him. “Thank you.”

Ignoring the warm feeling blossoming in his chest, he simply slung an arm around you, pressing his lips to the side of your head in response.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x y/n #hurt/comfort #shrimp attempts to write

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suituuup · 4 years

Text

shine

Beca and Chloe meet during Pride

Word count: 2,7k

Rating: T

ao3 link

inbox open to prompts!

It was Stacie’s idea.

Of course it was. Everything that leads to Beca asking herself what the fuck she’s doing here can often be linked back to Stacie fucking Conrad.

Beca’s got a few examples to argue her case. That time she ended up in the ER on New Year’s Eve because Stacie thought riding a Segway while being drunk would be super fun, or when they got stuck in a snowstorm while driving up to Vermont that one year and nearly froze to death.

So when Stacie suggested a few days back that they go to the Pride parade, Beca initially said no. Don’t get her wrong; she’s all for the event, she just doesn’t do well with crowds. That Friday before the parade happens to be one of Beca’s worst days at work probably since the start of her career though, so when Stacie insisted she should tag along with her and Amy, Beca rolled her eyes, huffed, and eventually agreed, because what the hell.

She doesn’t know it yet, as she stands in packed 7th avenue that hot and humid Saturday afternoon, but she’ll be so glad she decided to go to Pride.

Right now though, she’s struggling for breath as panic slowly creeps into her body, tangling around her limbs and making her legs feel as heavy as lead. There are people everywhere, the music is pounding against her skull and it’s just too fucking hot.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells Stacie, curling a hand around her wrist to get her attention. “Check your phone if I lose you guys?”

“Yeah, you got it.”

Beca uncomfortably weaves through the crowd, muttering various apologies to the few people she bumps into as she keeps her eyes fastened on the sidewalk. The knots in her chest tighten when she reaches an adjacent street, leaning against the wall and tilting her head back. She’s focused on her chopped breathing and willing her heart to slow the fuck down when a voice cuts through the fog clouding her brain.

“Hey, you okay?”

Her eyes snap open to find twin twinkles of bright blue staring at her in concern, standing out despite the colorful rainbows painted on the woman’s cheeks that should steal Beca’s attention.

“I’m uh,” Beca winces, bracing a hand on her chest when her breathing derails even more. “Not really. I’m having a sort of panic attack.”

“Oh shit, okay, um--” The redhead glances around them, then focuses back on Beca. “Anything I can do?”

Beca shakes her head, her eyes screwing shut as she goes through the 5-5-5 breathing technique a few times, until her lungs don’t feel as deprived of oxygen as before.

The redhead is still standing there when she opens her eyes. She fishes into her tote bag, pulling out a bottle of water and extending it to Beca. “Here. It’s still capped.”

“Thanks,” Beca mutters, taking the cool bottle from her and drinking a few sips. She takes a few beats to observe the other woman as she hands the bottle back. She’s wearing a white shirt with a cute dinosaur waving a pride flag, faded denim shorts and sneakers, and has got a camera slung across her chest. “You’re a photographer?”

“Yeah. Well, not professionally, but hoping to become one someday.” She extends her hand, that genuine smile still in place. “I’m Chloe.”

Beca flushes, knowing her hand is probably clammy and disgusting compared to how soft Chloe’s feels. “Beca.”

“First Pride?”

Beca nods. “Yeah, and kinda regretting it.” She scrunches up her nose when she realizes how that might come across. “Not because of-- I think it’s great that it exists, I mean, I’m not straight so of course I don’t have anything against Pride itself.” God, just shut up. “I just don’t like crowds. Or the heat.”

Chloe hums, seemingly barely able to keep her amusement at bay. “I kinda need a break, too. Wanna come check out the Stonewall exhibit at the public library with me?” She raises an eyebrow, then adds, “Less people and AC…”

Any other day, Beca would have probably said no. But the journey back to Brooklyn if she goes home now will most likely be slow and painful, and she kinda wants to hang out with Chloe, for reasons she can’t explain as they’ve only ‘known’ each other less than five minutes and Beca is usually wary about strangers.

“Sure, why not. Let me just shoot a text to my friends.”

Once she tells Stacie not to worry about her, Beca follows Chloe through the crowd, Chloe’s hand finding hers before they get in the thick of the crowd.

“So we don’t lose each other,” Chloe says over her shoulder, winking softly. She doesn’t let go even when they reach quieter streets, but weirdly Beca doesn’t mind.

She chuckles at herself, shaking her head softly because this is so unlike her.

“What?” Chloe asks, a mixture of curiosity and confusion swirling in her eyes.

“Nothing, I just…” Beca shrugs. “This is not how I expected today to go, at all.”

Chloe’s head tilts to the side as she stares at Beca’s profile. “In a good way?”

“Yeah, I really think so.”

Chloe smiles in response, then emits a soft gasp, letting go of Beca’s hand. “Hold on, one sec.” She crosses the street before Beca can say anything, stepping up to this drag couple and asking them if she can do a mini photoshoot.

Beca watches on in amusement, grinning when Chloe walks back to her after thanking the pair. They fall back into step, and Beca resists the urge to slide her hand into Chloe’s once more.

She lets out a sigh of relief as soon as they step inside the cool building.

“Better?” Chloe asks.

“Yeah,” Beca breathes, nodding.

They hike up the staircase, Chloe coming to a stop to snap a picture of the Love & Resistance neon sign above the door leading to the exhibit. As they stroll about from one picture to another, Beca finds herself glancing at Chloe often, finding Chloe’s clear love for photography endearing.

“That was really cool,” Chloe says when they step back under the scorching sun after spending about an hour inside. They stopped at the gift shop, where Chloe purchased a few prints of the photographs exhibited. “Did you like it?”

“I did, yeah,” Beca nods, smiling softly. “Those people were really fucking brave. It’s inspiring.”

“I think so, too.” She licks her lips, glancing at Beca. “What are you doing now?”

“Not sure yet,” Beca says; one thing she’s sure of is that she doesn’t want to part ways with Chloe just yet. “Why? Wanna whisk me away again?”

Chloe’s soft laughter sends Beca’s heart for a spin. “Maybe.” A soft hand emcompasses hers once more. “Do you trust me?”

Beca cocks an eyebrow, a smirk ticking the corners of her lips. “Kind of a bold question seeing as we’ve known each other for an hour. You could be a serial killer for all I know.”

A giggle flits past Chloe’s lips, and she tugs on Beca’s hand. “Come on.”

“I’m low key concerned you didn’t try and correct me on the whole serial killer thing,” Beca teases, catching up so she falls into step with Chloe. “Or maybe you’re just a stalker? Would explain the fancy camera.”

“Stop,” Chloe requests with a chuckle, shoving Beca with her shoulder.

“I’m kidding,” Beca assures her, lacing their fingers before she can think twice about it. “So where are you taking me?”

“There’s a street fair a couple blocks away with crafts, food and drinks. Should be less crowded but still festive.”

“Sounds cool.”

They get there about twenty minutes later, Chloe stopping a few times along the way to snap a few street shots. The fair has a family-friendly block-party kind of vibe, with various vendors displaying their arts and crafts. Live music is drifting through the street, and Beca instantly feels more comfortable than she did during the parade.

Her heart swells at the sight of a family just ahead of them; two women and their two young kids with rainbows painted on their cheeks. Beca is filled with hope that someday she’ll get to have that, too, that being gay won’t prevent her from building a family and finding happiness, like her dad said it would when she came out to him a couple years ago.

“Where’d you go?” Chloe’s soft voice once again cuts through Beca’s thoughts.

“Nowhere,” she murmurs, glancing towards her new friend. “I just really like it here.”

After strolling about the different booths, they grab a bite to eat and settle down at a picnic table near the makeshift stage where the live band is playing.

“Do you know if there’s a face painting booth somewhere?” Beca finds herself asking once she’s finished her fries. “I wanna get flags on my cheeks, too.”

Stacie offered before they left the apartment, but Beca turned her down, preferring to keep it low-key. Chloe’s rocking it though, and Beca is definitely more ready to embrace her identity than she was a few hours ago.

“Oh, I can do it!” Chloe reaches inside her bag, producing a small paint palette and a brush.

Beca chuckles, shaking her head in amazement. “Of course you’d carry that around.”

As Chloe settles down next to her, straddling the bench, Beca mirrors her position and gathers her hair up and out of the way, piling it up on her head in a messy bun. She inhales sharply as Chloe takes her chin gently and leans closer to apply the first stroke.

The cool brush sliding over her heated skin makes her shiver, and the sudden proximity has her heart thud harder, and she feels a bit overwhelmed by the sudden urge to tilt her head up and forward just slightly to brush a kiss across Chloe’s mouth.

She doesn’t though, because she’s never kissed a girl before and that urge is soon suffocated by the nerves that sprout in the pit of her belly, shackling those butterflies back towards the ground.

“There,” Chloe murmurs, backing away to check her work. Beca realizes she hasn’t been breathing properly and sucks some air into her lungs, blinking. “Cute.”

“Thanks,” Beca croaks out, clearing her throat. She takes her phone to see it for herself in the reflection of the screen, and a bright smile spreads across her features.

“You’re rocking it.”

Soft blush coats Beca’s cheeks as she meets Chloe’s gaze, quickly averting her eyes because those striking blues are really messing with her ability to function properly.

“So I’m supposed to meet a couple friends of mine at this cool bar in an hour or so, I was thinking maybe you and your friends could tag along? No pressure, though.”

“Yeah, um, I’d like that. I’ll text my friends to see if they’re down.”

Cue to Beca being a bit more drunk than she initially planned in a gay bar in Soho a few hours later. The scorching heat probably (definitely) got to her head over the afternoon, so the two cocktails she had really feel like four.

She doesn’t mind, though. That pleasant buzzing thanks to the alcohol loosens her up a little and makes her second guess a lot less.

“So what’s up with you and Red?” Stacie asks over the music as they stand by their table. Chloe’s friends Jessica and Ashely are currently dancing, and Chloe’s gone up to the counter to get water.

Beca wonders if her attraction to Chloe is that see-through, or if it’s just Stacie being Stacie, and poking Beca has always been one of her favorite things. “What?”

The tall brunette rolls her eyes. “Come on, you guys have the hots for each other.”

Beca is thankful for the dim lighting as her face flushes hard. “You-- you think she’s into me?”

“Duh,” Amy confirms with a twin eyeroll.

Stacie slaps Amy’s arm. “Oh, here she comes. Let’s go dance, Ames.”

Beca’s eyes widen and her jaw drops when she realizes her friends are abandoning ship. “Guys! Seriously?? ”

The confirmation that Chloe’s attracted to her only makes Beca all nervous again, and she jumps slightly when Chloe shows up beside her.

“You alright?” Chloe asks, gently cupping Beca’s elbow.

“Yeah, yes. I’m grand.” Grand? Grand?? God, it’s like she can hear Stacie cackling in her head. Beca slams her eyes shut and wrinkles her nose as Chloe giggles. “Ugh. I mean good. I’m good.”

“Good,” Chloe echoes, her smile teasing. “So why are Stacie and Amy staring at us?”

Mortified, Beca glances in the direction of Chloe’s head tilt to find Stacie and Amy both innocently looking away as they stand across the room. She groans in annoyance. “I’m gonna kill them.”

Chloe laughs again, and Beca realizes her hand is still on her arm, her thumb stroking Beca’s skin back and forth. “It’s okay. I’m glad they’re looking out for you.”

“They’re not looking out for me,” Beca grumbles. “They’re just having the time of their lives because they know I’m a terrible flirt and I don’t know how to act around a beautiful woman.” She chuckles, her blush flaring up once more. “Oh wow, I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

“Which part?” Chloe asks. “You being a terrible flirt or calling me beautiful?”

Beca wets her suddenly dry lips. “Me being bad at this,” she replies, sucking in a sharp breath. “I definitely meant the second part.”

Chloe licking her lips like she does in the next beat makes Beca’s knees wobble. “You wanna dance?”

Beca’s phone lights up with a text from Stacie before she can respond. We’re heading somewhere else. Coming or staying? ;)

She throws Chloe an apologetic smile as she grasps her phone. “Sorry, let me just reply.”

Beca

I’m gonna stay.

Stacie’s reply is instant. Happy scissoring.

She makes the mistake to glance towards the pair, catching Amy doing a V with her fingers by her mouth and flicking her tongue between them.

“Oh my god,” Beca mutters, setting her forehead on the table. “Any chance you didn’t catch that? My friends are an embarrassment.” She eventually straightens, shaking it off. “And yeah, I wanna dance.”

Chloe doesn’t beat around the bush, setting her hands on Beca’s hips and tugging Beca closer once they’re facing each other. Beca’s top doesn’t quite meet her high waisted skirt, and Chloe’s touch sends an electric jolt down her spine, its aftershocks echoing in the tips of her toes.

Her arms loop around Chloe’s neck and it’s only now they’re standing so close that Beca notices how blue Chloe’s eyes are. She also notes the want and passion burning in those irises, and feels another chill travel her body. Chloe moves flawlessly to the beat, and Beca matches her rhythm, gradually crushing the sliver of distance between them until her own hips are swaying flush against Chloe’s.

The song blends into another one, but Beca doesn’t really register it; she’s slowly being consumed by the desire to kiss Chloe, and this time doesn’t let her damn insecurities get the upper hand. Leaning in slowly, she captures Chloe’s lips in a kiss, a delighted hum mingling into it as Chloe kisses her back instantly. One of Chloe’s hands leaves her hip to hold her face gently, warm and reassuring over her skin.

The kiss is slow and tender, exploratory on Beca’s end, and probably the best Beca’s ever had. Her head soon spins from those wonderful, foreign sensations spreading through her body, and she finds herself needing a break shortly after. She pulls away just a bit, her lips tingling as Chloe’s breath skates across them.

When Chloe asks her if she wants to get out of there, Beca should probably tell her she’s new at this, that she’s never been with a girl before, but the words never surface from her throat. She does admit it half an hour later as they’re heavily making-out just outside Chloe’s place, but not to put a stop to it.

She wants this more than she’s probably ever wanted anything else, but she’s afraid of not knowing what to do.

Despite their palpable desire, they slow down once they eventually make it to Chloe’s bedroom, and Beca’s grateful for that. The next couple hours are a blur of yet unparalleled pleasure and Beca sleeps hard afterwards, waking up a bit confused the next morning.

She flushes when memories from the night before surface, explaining the wonderful aches her body’s experiencing when she stretches. She’s alone in bed and the apartment is silent, but a note lies on the pillow next to her.

Hey you. Had to run to work and didn’t want to wake you up. Help yourself to coffee and a shower, if you’d like. Yesterday was pretty awesome. I hope we can see each other again soon. Here’s my phone number: 917-695-8691. Have a good day. :)

Chloe xx

Beca fails to keep her smile at bay and she might even squeal a little bit as she flops back against her pillow.

She guesses she should thank Stacie for dragging her to Pride, after all.

#bechloe #bechloe fic

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crackinglamb · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, thank you.

Y'all...it's been a day.

In brief: my van stalled out and died on the highway during a torrential downpour. I was in the van (obviously as I was driving) with Lamb the Younger. I had to call my ex to come get Little Lamb, then call a tow truck for me and the van. It took several hours to get back home. As of right now, I still don't know what's wrong with the van.

In light of this, I'm not tagging anyone forward, because my higher brain function got fried from too much humidity inside the cab of a tow truck. But if you got something to share, go for it.

That said...have some words I wrote a while ago.

---

Imogen leaned over Solas's chair, ostensibly to look at his table where a number of scrolls were laid out. She had a question for him, but she was distracted by what she saw him working on. Two of the scrolls were in Common, another was in what she guessed was Orlesian and the last one was in no alphabet she'd ever seen.

“Qunlat?” she guessed. He raised an eyebrow at her and nodded. “I don't think I'm going to ask what you're working on now.”

He leaned back and favored her with a look so entirely telling that she ended up dropping her rump on the arm of the chair without realizing it. Qunlat. There was really only one reason he'd be studying something both Qunari and Orlesian. The Qunari spies in the Inquisition tripped over my spies in the Inquisition.

“Really? Already? That shouldn't happen for years.”

“And what would that be, Inquisitor, that shouldn't be happening?” he inquired drolly. His gaze roved around the rotunda once and she mentally zipped her lip.

“Uh...nothing, actually.”

He nodded and surreptitiously flicked his fingers at the scrolls so they rolled themselves back up. Then he looked her over, including her close proximity. “You are still sitting on my chair.”

“Hmm, so I am.” She swung around and planted her feet squarely in the space between his thighs. He jumped just slightly, then closed his legs over her feet. He wrapped his hand around her ankle, looking for all the world as casual as you please. As if it was mere coincidence that her leg was there while his hand was in his lap.

“Be careful, Inquisitor. There are eyes upon us.”

“Then maybe you should take your hand off my leg. I'm just sitting here.”

“I can find you another chair, if you are in need of one.”

“I can think of better places I'd like to...sit.” A flare of heat grew in his eyes and she grinned at him. There was only so far this game could go in public, after all.

#tagged #wip wednesday #imogen and solas #what a wicked game to play

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ohthatbunnygirl · 6 years

Photo

I’ll Always Come Back For Your Sweet Pie

(A Reylo Diner AU Drabble that is one exit away from being too damn fluffy)

________________

At the Flyover Diner in Resistance, Alabama, a rather severe-looking out-of- towner named Hux dabs the corner of his mouth with his napkin. A few crumbs scattering before a clearing of his throat acts as a subtle plea for more coffee to wash down that heavenly taste of chicken fried steak sandwich sitting so heavy in his mouth. Lucky for the handsome stranger, his waitress Rey catches his meaning. Ah yes, she’s heard that needy noise thousands of times before, and so she promptly stops rearranging pies in the dessert case in order to stroll over with a piping hot cup of caffeine relief.

The end of her ponytail swishing when she asks, “Can I get you anything else?”

“How about that slice of strawberry rhubarb?” Hux suggests, eyeing the dessert that best matches his hair.

“Oh shoot,” Rey’s drawl thickens, layered with some added sweetness to help an apology go down, “we’re all out, sugar. How about chess pie, I make a mean chess pie.”

He blinks twice, stammering as he points,“But, but it’s right there.”

“That’s just the display one, sorry.”

In Hux’s mind, it doesn’t make a lick of sense to have a display pie out for a pie that isn’t available for eating. No, the businessman doesn’t appreciate that teasing scenario one bit, and he means to tell the young woman, with her strong jaw and the perky nose, that the situation doesn’t sit right in his slightly bursting belly. Oh yes, he’s gunning to voice his displeasure, already firing up to wear a crown of mighty indignation since the customer is always king. But then he meets her bright-eyed stare above twenty adorable freckles, her encouraging smile tipping a bit up, and what was he thinking?

Pie.

Pie?

I need some? And some chess pieces?

Even after shaking his head to clear away the brain fog, Hux can’t remember for the life of him why in the heck he was feeling feisty, but he does now feel strongly about something called chess pie, and trying it. Oh yes, he must have it! Lowering his accusatory finger back to the table, Hux grumbles with a crooked smile. “Let’s try that mean pie of yours then.”

“You’re gonna love it!”

“What’s in it?”

Rey’s eyes twinkle mischievously. “It’s jes’ pie.”

“Oh, I see what you did there.” Hux laughs. “Punny.”

By noon the lunchtime rush is in full swing, but Rey skillfully navigates the tile floor to the opposite side of the diner. Not a drop of her coffee sloshing out of the pot, no smiles unanswered as she makes all feel special on her perilous journey to the dessert case. Assuring everyone that she passes that she’ll be right back, and as Hux watches her killing it in sneakers, his beaming smile refuses to dim until an imposing mass entering the diner suddenly blocks his view.

All six feet and too many inches in Hux’s way, and judging by Rey’s wave, she recognizes the massive customer in his dark grey landscaping overalls. “Sit anywhere you like,” she sings out, tongue poking between her teeth as she moves a pie wedge onto a plate that she then carefully sets down on the businessman’s table, the bill underneath.

“Here we are,” Rey coos, topping off his coffee, “and if you need something, just holler!”

That first bite is heaven, the second pure hell. No hope for future comfort for Hux’s eternal soul after he realizes that he’ll never have this same pie again. One blissful bite already gone, three at most left, and it’s the first chess pie that he’s ever had, but he’s sure it’s the best.

“Kill me now,” he murmurs, licking his lips, tucking a thirty percent tip under his dish. The last creamy bite down the hatch when he pays up, and after checking the time, he’s picking his briefcase up with the happiest wave to this Little Miss Rey of Sunshine. “Thanks.”

Out in the parking lot, Hux glances back at the diner before getting into his rental car. A belly full of Southern comfort inside of him, a good day started on his way to the airport, and it continues to be so because he didn’t catch the moment the man that he almost mistook for a muscular mountain sat down at a counter stool. A slow smile offered up to Rey, and a quicker one sent back.

“Good shift so far?”

“Mmhmm,” Rey hums, sliding a menu over to him.

“You fixin’ to go on break?” he asks.

“I dunno,“ she shrugs, smile turning sly as she tucks a pen behind her ear, “you know anybody who’d want to keep me company?”

Never a big talker in the morning, Kylo shifts his stare towards the menu pages, grunting when reminded that his hair is way past getting too long. The head tilt brushing his black curls along his neck, the ends tickling his jaw. Every last strand begging for a cut when Kylo spends all day in the swampy heat that’s too humid to maintain a stylish down look, and the town remains far too conservative to attempt a man bun. It’s a simple fix, but recently, he can’t convince his boots to make the trip to the barber. Yep, he’s seasonally screwed. No relief in sight until he hightails his near-hippie hair to the city for at least a trim, but that visit isn’t in the cards anytime soon since he happens to be dating a rather frisky female who’s simply wild about running her hands through his hair when she sees him.

And Lord if he doesn’t enjoy satisfying her in every way possible.

Yes, the biggest dimple in his girlfriend’s cheek has a lovely habit of showing up when she’s absently playing with his long locks while they watch TV, driving around town, and lucky for him, she’s equally as generous with those hands when she’s urgently tugging on his hair in bed. Grabbing handfuls between whimpers. Drawing his mouth to her’s and below, holding him just where she wants him again and again and again until Kylo makes that low noise of pleasure in the back of his throat. The needy purr that she claims is her favorite sound outside of thunder in July. That near moan that belongs to her as much as if she’d stuck a flag into it and Kylo would let her if he could. Because yes, the bearded brooder with his striking, Bible Belt Byronic features softens right up into affectionate pudding for his sweet, sweet girl. He wouldn’t dream of letting her down, and so he rakes a hand along the side of his head, gives her a hair swish worth coming home for.

"So, just how many men fell in love with you this morning?” Kylo teases, his dark eyes lit with smug pride when he catches her licking her lip.

“Only the gardening entrepreneur in my bed this morning,” Rey winked, filling his coffee, unnecessarily brushing her fingers against his. “And possibly that last guy.”

“What did him in?”

“The chess pie.”

“You hussy,” Kylo tsks, shaking his head. “Was he even able to walk straight after you’d finished with him?”

“Just barely.”

“Awww, poor city boy,” After a glance around the diner to make sure that nobody is watching, Kylo lifts Rey’s hand to his lips, nips at her finger. “I feel his pain,” his voice skims into trouble, gives her a work inappropriate shiver when he holds her gaze like that, nips her again. “It is damn near impossible not to love you after the first bite.”

That drawl is unfair. It’s too much for any girl to take with all his added handsome, and although a crimson tide crosses Rey’s cheeks, she recovers enough of her senses to roll her eyes. "Is that what reeled you in,” she laughs, dropping her mouth in faux incredulity, “my pie?”

“Not just any pie,” Kylo corrects, squeezing her hand, “your strawberry rhubarb.”

“Hmm, must be why I keep a slice for you then, huh?” Rey muses. Not caring if anybody is watching when she leans over the counter, planting a kiss on his scruffy cheek before removing a pie plate from the dessert display.

The best piece from her just for him.

#reylo au #diner au #reylo #fluff #this is not a drill i actually wrote fluff #a drabble a day week #southern au #drabble

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claudecat17 · 7 years

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Orioles Game 68: Who Doesn't Love Dad?

While it's far too early to start saying things like "the O's have finally turned things around!", today's dongerific victory before a crowd of almost 35,000 making the best of the swelter was highly satisfying. It means a series win over the Cards of course, but it also pulls the bedraggled team up and out of technical badness. At .500, our Birds are now exactly mediocre! Baby steps, right?

One of the highlights of the game was the shocked joy of witnessing the ultra-rare quality Ubaldo start. The QUS, for future reference (as if this is likely to happen again anytime soon). Ryhmes with pus. It truly was a joy to behold though, as not only was Jimenez getting the bad guys out, he was doing it efficiently, at least by his standard. Four walks in seven innings isn't great, but when you only give up four hits, two of them solo home runs accounting for the only damage, you've had a good day on the mound even if you're a real good starter, which we all know Ubaldo is not. He was today, and it was nice to see him get an extended ovation after he'd gotten that last out in the 7th.

The other standout player in this one was Seth "Dad" Smith. My brain was so heat-addled that it didn't even dawn on me that Dad had had his great day on Father's Day until the drive home. Incidentally, the Dad thing started in Seattle, supposedly because Seth has that Hollywood dad look, and seems like a guy that in a decade or two might sound and act a lot like Ward Cleaver. It's hard to quantify, but there's definitely a dad-ness to Seth Smith.

Smith's leadoff tater, his third of the year I believe, got this game off to a fine start after a surprisingly brisk (and scoreless!) Ubaldo half inning. An early lead! Naturally Ubaldo immediately gave up the tying run, avoiding as all O's pitchers do the devious charms of the shutdown inning. But the Birds powered their way back in what was initially a close game, almost a back and forth affair.

It wasn't until the 5th that this became almost another blowout. When Ubaldo left after seven, it was a comfy 8-2 O's lead. Unfortunately, the Norfolk shuttle part of the bullpen was called upon, given yet another opportunity to step up and do anything but be terrible. That worked for a while earlier this season, but not anymore. Vidal Nuno? Two runs without recording an out. That's an infinite ERA for the day, pal. Back on the bus for you. Miguel Castro was better, if only because he recorded three outs around the Molina homer.

It was Buck's trip to the mound to pull Nuno the fuck out of there in the 8th that was the most angry today. Not sure if they show the whole thing on TV, but if you watch, he's striding out there with purpose, and not wasting any time getting there. Then he almost snatches the ball from the hapless victim and it's "start walkin'", with no pat on the butt or anything else but angry glares.

Personally I love this. It sends the message that "goddammit, I'm doing the best I can with this shit, but son, if you're gonna come up here and suck this bad, I don't have to put up with it nicely." The bi-weekly reunions when these guys inevitably have to come back up must be awkward. Or hilarious. This is the kind of stuff I find fascinating. Watching Buck interact with, say, Nuno, must be entertaining in some way. Because I doubt he's a yeller. Makes me wonder if Buck doesn't have quite an arsenal of homespun tough love techniques.

As for the game experience, the heat and humidity was the biggest issue. The fairly big crowd was probably too sweaty and uncomfortable to do much incident-wise. They were well behaved and comprised once again of a startlingly large percentage of Cards fans, who I'm liking less and less. Nowhere near as annoying as the usual suspects, but there are so many of 'em and they're all so damn suburban looking. Like they all just stepped out of the board room or off of a golf course. I can't in fact recall seeing a single black Cards fan this whole series. Mostly older, upper-crusty white folk.

I had another real good food day. It was my turn to grab the donuts today (it's a Sunday tradition), so that was breakfast. Only four though. That tided me over nicely until the top of the 5th, when I did a big basket of chicken tenders and fries, slathered in the delicious hot sauce from the one condiment station that has it. There's something cooling about eating spicy food on a hot day. The Mexicans know this. It opens up your openings and gets you sweating a bit, leaving you at least feeling slightly cooler. Works for me anyway. Speaking of food, the Icee connection has been established.

All the Father's Day stuff was nice enough I guess, though I hated those uniforms. Three pre-game rounds of dads playing catch on the field with their kid(s), a surprising number of whom were female. A few moms too it looked like. Lots of dads and dads of dads in the crowd as well of course, the earthier ones settling into seats up where I am. A good time was had by all but possibly Cards fans, though even they found the shade and breeze in the tunnel delightful. We become much more popular when it's hot.

I wish I could be more excited about this win, but I just can't quite yet. If the O's can win the next series, four games with the resurgent Cleveland team, I'll be feeling better. I don't expect to be feeling better by Friday, but you never know. The O's keep hitting all these wall-scraper homers in the heat, that could mitigate the whole pitching thing. Not giving up yet, just playing hard to get.

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