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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months

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Stolen | Marcus Pike (Day Four)

Series Summary | A week on from the biggest museum theft in history, you find yourself shipped to D.C. to track down the most important British archaeological artefacts, stolen from right under your nose. You didn’t plan on Special Agent Marcus Pike getting under your skin in the process. Special Agent Marcus Pike didn’t plan on falling for you either.

Chapter Summary | A rare free day for you and Marcus brings the opportunity for him to show you his city. Also gives him the chance to shamelessly flirt with you, kiss you in front of some art and an evening alone in your hotel room.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Archaeologist/Curator F!Reader

Word Count | 4k

Warnings | Marcus and reader shamelessly flirting with each other as always, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, the assumption that a baby Guinness is the best shot in the world, description of healed but violent injuries, oral sex (f) receiving, overstimulation (Marcus Pike is a pleasure dom and you cannot convince me otherwise), fingering, squirting, some angst thrown in for good measure and I think that's it.

Authors Note | Sorry this took so long to get out to you! I am still in my brain rot era for these two - Jones and Marcus literally own my life. I hope you enjoy the little sneak peak of some of Jones' back story here - more will be revealed as we carry on the story. Also, another huge shoutout as always to my girl Doni @morning-star-joy for betaing this and just always being there to freak out about these two with me - ily girl and thank you! If you enjoy this, please consider reblogging, commenting or popping into my ask to give me some love! And if you'd like to consider tipping me, my Ko-Fi is here (But of course, no pressure!)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Stolen Playlist

It’s your phone’s ringtone that rouses you from sleep the next morning. You’re groggy, having spent at least two hours replaying in your mind how it had felt to kiss Marcus before you’d finally fallen asleep, only to be met by him in your dreams where he did so much more than just kiss you.

You let the phone ring out, rolling onto your back to rub at your eyes. The clock on the bedside table shows the time as 8:07am, far too early for what should be a day off. You’d anticipated emails but not calls, having sent a round robin email to advise until the FBI had established new leads, there would be no need for your usual check in call.

But then your phone rings again. You groan, all you wanted was a few more hours of sleep. You’re reaching for your phone and answering it, voice still gruff with sleep, “What?!”

“Good morning to you too.” Comes that familiar drawl with a chuckle added in for good measure. Marcus.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You sit bolt upright in bed, “Has something happened?”

“No,” He says plainly, “Did I wake you up?”

“It is just past eight in the morning on a weekend, so yes, you did.”

“Great!” He exclaims, how is he so chipper this early? “It’s the weekend, you’re in a new city, so we’re going out.”

“Wait a minute,” Your brain is finally catching up with what’s happening, “Don’t you have my artefacts to find?”

He chuckles down the phone, “That’s what I’ve got Steven for, he’s chasing leads right now, means I’m free to show you the city.”

You can’t help the smirk that appears on your lips, “Take me for those pancakes and you’re on.”

Not even an hour later, you’re sat across from Marcus, plates full of pancakes and mugs full of steaming coffee.

“Okay, these are just as good in the morning as they are at night,” You speak after your first mouthful, “But the coffee is still shit.”

Marcus barks a laugh, eyes dropping to the mug in his hands as he takes a dramatic slurp, “It’s perfectly fine coffee,” He smiles, “You’ve just got to think of this as part of the experience.”

“Spoken like a man who has never tried real Arabic coffee,” You wink, sipping on what is decidedly not Arabic coffee, “So, where are you taking me today?”

Marcus finishes the bite he’s chewing, picking up his own mug again, “Well, you can’t come to D.C. and not visit the Lincoln Memorial and the Capitol, so we’re going to start there, and then if you’re lucky, I can wow you with my vast artistic knowledge at the National Gallery.”

“Wow,” You chuckle, taking a last bite of pancake before resigning yourself to defeat again, “Big day.”

“Might have made dinner reservations too, but you’ll have to wait and see about those.”

“Reservations, again?” You tease, “I’m a lucky girl.”

“I like to make a fuss,” He smiles, motioning for the waitress to bring the bill, “Now, finish your shit coffee and let’s go.”

You must admit that if there’s one thing about Marcus Pike that you’ve noticed, it’s that he knows how to date. So far, he’d ferried you to the Lincoln Memorial and the Capitol as promised, given you his own little tour, given you all the little nuggets of history you need to know, and kept a firm hold of your hand as he did it. He’d bought you ice cream, pistachio, after an argument over which flavour was the best, which you clearly won, and then had wrapped an arm around your shoulders and stolen bites from the plastic spoon as you walked to the National Gallery.

He'd walked you round, showing you some of his favourite pieces of art – even if art itself was boring as all hell to you, his enthusiasm helped, the way his eyes would light up when he’d walk into a gallery and find another piece to show you.

You’re currently looking at a Da Vinci. The small plaque on the wall underneath says it’s a painting of Ginerva de Benci, whoever that is, and despite being created by a master, it does nothing for you. You find yourself tilting your head to try and understand why everyone loses their minds over this kind of stuff.

“You can admit you hate it,” Marcus chuckles at your side, hand squeezing yours which has been firmly grasped since you entered, “It’s not for everyone.”

“It’s not that I hate it,” You shrug, “I just don’t get it,” You point with your free hand to the painting, “She’s looks really annoyed.”

Marcus laughs, “Probably because she was sixteen and about to married off to god knows who,” He presses a kiss to your temple, “If you’re bored, I can take you somewhere else?”

You shake your head, “Oh, I’m not bored,” You try and defend yourself, but when you meet his eyes, you know he’s got the perfect read on you, “Okay, yeah I’m bored, can we go and get cocktails?”

“We can go and get cocktails,” He agrees, “But first….”

His words trail off as he takes a step forward, leaving the tiniest bit of space between the two of you. He brings his palms up to cup your face and then he’s kissing you. His lips just as perfect as they had been last night. You open your mouth to him, tilting your head a little so you can finally slip your tongue into his mouth, your hands gripping at the material of his jacket. You’re not even sure how long you stand there for, drinking each other down, but soon enough some unsuspecting tourist is clearing her throat behind you, motioning for you to move so she can see the very famous painting you were just making out in front of.

You feel a blush creep onto your cheeks as Marcus pulls away from you, glint in his eyes.

“You’re trouble, Marcus Pike.” You breathe, taking hold of his wrist to drag him away from the painting.

“So are you,” He comments, “Now let’s go find you a cocktail.”

Find you a cocktail he did. You’d sipped negroni’s together on some rooftop bar until Marcus had to drag you to dinner where you were sat now. It was an affair much less fancy than the Italian restaurant – Marcus opting to show you his favourite burger joint instead. The waiter had just placed your food in front of you – yours a mountain of sweet potato fries and a bacon cheeseburger that was literally bigger than your head. Marcus’ was of a similar size, full of fried chicken and a similarly large pile of French fries.

With the alcohol coursing through your veins, you couldn’t care less about trying to look attractive as you pick up the burger and take a bite, juice spilling down the sides of your face which you try and quickly mop with a napkin. You take another bite before you set it down, picking up the bottle of beer you’d ordered.

When you look across the table, you notice Marcus hasn’t touched his food, instead, he’s got his eyes trained directly on you, “Everything okay?” You ask, tipping the lip of the bottle to your mouth to swig.

“Fine, actually,” He comments, “Just never been quite so attracted to someone with burger juice on their face.” He leans across the table, wiping away the liquid you’d missed at the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb.

“Stop fondling me and eat your food.” You chuckle, picking at one of your fries.

“Yes, ma’am.” He winks, picking up his own burger to take a bite, ending up with sauce over his face just like you did.

You can play him at his own game. You reach your own thumb across the table, wiping at the red sauce at the corner of his mouth before you bring your thumb back to your mouth, sucking the sauce right off it with your eyes continuously looking right into his.

“Sauce is good,” You shrug with a smirk, “Any news from Steven?”

“Not since I last checked my phone,” He shrugs, taking another bite of his burger, “I promise you’ll be the first to know if I do.”

You nod, biting into one of your fries, eyes roaming around the restaurant to settle on a board listing all the different kinds of shots they served behind the bar.

“Hey Marcus,” You ask, absentmindedly, “You ever had a baby Guinness?”

“A what?” He asks.

“A baby Guinness?” You implore, “You know, the shot?”

“I can confidently say, I have never had a baby Guinness.”

A devious smirk falls across your face as you pick up another fry, “Finish your food and I will introduce you to the best alcoholic drink known to man.”

If there’s another thing you like about Marcus, as well as his ability to kiss like his life depended on it and take you on the best dates you’d ever been on, it was his obedience. Outside of his job, you had this man wrapped around your finger and you knew it. The way he settles in to finish his food, quietly sipping his beer as you do the same, means you’re both done in no time, and when the waitress clears your empty plates, you ask her to bring four shots of baby Guinness.

“Four?” Marcus raises his eyebrow.

“They’re on a deal,” You shrug, finishing the last of your beer, “And trust me when I say, you’ll want more than one.”

She’s back with your requested drinks in no time.

“Well, no shit, they actually look like a baby Guinness.”

You pick one up, waiting for him to do the same, then you clink your shot glasses together and drink the shots down in one. There’s the sweet milk of the Bailey’s and then the bitter taste of the coffee liqueur, but they’re still as good as you’d always remembered.

“Good, right?” You smirk as Marcus smacks his lips to really get the taste.

“I have to hand it to you Jones, they are pretty delicious.”

“Do the other one.” You challenge, picking up your own second shot.

“You’re a terrible influence,” He chuckles, but indulges you all the same, slamming the drink back, “Okay, enough shots though, anymore and you’ll have to carry me home.”

“Of all the things, Marcus Pike, I didn’t have you penned as a lightweight.”

“You forget you’re British so just by being born you can hold your drink better than I can.”

You giggle as you get the waitress’ attention and ask her to bring you the bill, getting the company card out before Marcus can argue with you that this should be his treat. You’d indulged him enough to buy breakfast, this one was on you. Or the museum.

Once you’ve paid, you stand, realizing that perhaps the second shot was a bad idea, there’s the tell-tale tipsiness settling in you. Not drunk by any means, but perhaps tipsy enough to make dangerous decisions.

Marcus hails you a cab, considering you’re on the completely other side of town to your hotel. He has his fingers entwined with yours the whole ride home, his thumb rubbing circles across the back of your hand, stolen glances at each other and then smirks when one of you catches the other looking.

Just like he’d done before, Marcus walks with you through the lobby and into the elevator. You slump against the back wall, leaning into his shoulder. You tilt your head up to him and he almost makes it down to kiss you, but then the doors are opening onto your floor. Foiled by the elevator yet again.

“Marcus Pike,” You giggle, leaning up against the wall by your door once you’ve made it that far to fish your keycard out of your bag, “I think you got me drunk.”

“That’s an outrageous accusation,” He’s also chuckling, seemingly in a similar state to you, “I think it was you that got me drunk.”

Your fingers find the plastic of the keycard, whipping it out of your bag with a grin, like you’d just found the holy grail, “Found it!”

“Of course you did,” He laughs, taking it from between your fingers to tap it to the reader and open your door, “You made a living finding things, I never had any doubt.”

He pushes open the door to your room but makes no effort to move inside and follow behind you when you take a step over the threshold, “You’re not coming in?” You ask, bag dropped to the floor.

He takes a deep breath in and sighs, “I’m not sure it’s the best idea,” He shrugs, “Taking my time with you, and all that.”

You reach out and grip his wrist, thankful that he’s had a few drinks and is also a little unsteady on his feet, so he falls into the room, door closing behind him, “Fuck taking it slow, Marcus,” You smirk, pulling him flush to your body, “I want you to make me feel good.”

You’re searching for his lips in seconds, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to you. As soon as you connect, there’s the same feeling in your lower tummy that had been there when he’d kissed you in front of the art. Butterflies and nerves and that delicious swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.

“You’re sure?” He asks, hands dipping underneath the hem of your dress to brush the skin of your thighs.

“Never been surer of anything in my life.” You breathe, latching your mouth to his once more as your hands roam down his clothed chest.

He’s kissing you as he pushes you backwards, the backs of your knees hitting the bed causing you to tumble back. You both giggle as Marcus collapses on top of you, pulled down by your hands on his shirt. Then he’s kissing you again, but only briefly until he tears his mouth from yours and shuffles you further up the bed so he can lie down, settling his face between your thighs.

“When was the last time anyone ate your pussy, Jones?” He growls, teeth biting gently at the soft skin of your thighs.

Your head is swimming, and it takes you a while to think. When was the last time? It doesn’t even really matter, but you answer as honestly as you can, “Years.”

He stops dead, looking up at you with those glassy brown eyes you enjoy so much, “You’re lying.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, looking down at him with a grin, “I’m not,” you reply, “So you best make this good, remind me what I’ve been missing.”

It’s like the challenge you’ve issued him changes him completely. There’s a hunger in his eyes and he’s got your panties off and thrown to the floor in seconds. He doesn’t even bother to tease you, he pushes your thighs wider and licks a firm strip through your folds, tongue stopping to flick quickly across your clit before he’s doing the same thing again, this time dipping his tongue inside of you, tasting the slick that’s been gathering between your thighs all day for him.

“Taste so fucking good,” He murmurs before that tongue is back on your clit, this time running wet circles across your bundle of nerves that has you throwing your head back, calling his name into the relative silence of the room and arching up into him, chasing the pressure of his tongue when he pulls away from you again, “Knew you would, so fucking sweet.”

You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly Marcus manages to bring you over the edge that first time. He’s barely even started in earnest when your legs start shaking, his tongue focusing all its attention on quick, short flicks across your clit and soft suckles from his whole mouth that set you on fire.

“Marcus I-” Your hands go to grip his hair between your thighs, “Fucking hell, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pulls away just enough to chuckle, “That’s okay,” He smirks, “That’s what I want,” A shrug of his shoulders, “I’m gonna put my mouth back on you and you’re going to come for me, alright?”

You nod your head and let out a whine of approval as his mouth goes straight back to your slick pussy before it’s all over. His tongue flicks in just the right pattern over your clit that you’re arching into his face and crying out his name as that pleasure, the kind you’ve only given yourself these past few years, unfurls across your body. It’s almost entirely overwhelming for a moment, you think you might cry, but as soon as Marcus has finished working you through the aftershocks of your first orgasm, he’s hurtling right towards the next.

Your second orgasm comes soon after, which makes you suspect that it’s not your lack of sexual activity that’s making this so easy, but how good this man is between your thighs at giving pleasure to you. He eats at you like he was born to do it. His mouth knowing exactly the right patterns to draw, in exactly the right order to have you clamping your thighs around his head in minutes, his name like a monastic chant out of your mouth.

The third, even easier. Marcus’ mouth doesn’t even bother letting up after your second, he just wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, still using his tongue as an added sensation, before he’s sliding two of his thick fingers into your aching cunt and immediately curling them upwards.

“It’s too much-” You whine, hips trying to move away from his mouth, but his free hand keeps you anchored where you are, “I can’t Marcus.”

He pulls his mouth away, “You can, sweet girl,” He says, giving a teasing flick of his tongue to your clit, laughing when you jolt at the pressure, “I know you can do it, just for me.”

And he’s right, you can. Because you do. It makes your vision blur, spots appearing in your sight, you don’t even think his name is coherent out of your mouth anymore. Just a mixture of ragged moans and high-pitched whines.

Your chest is heaving, every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and you’re pretty sure the way Marcus’ name has become a chant on your lips is embarrassing, but it’s been years since a man touched you, even longer since one touched you like this and you don’t ever want him to stop, someone could offer you all the money in the world and you still choose Marcus and his mouth. That was number two, or was it number three? You’re pretty sure it was three, but you don’t even know anymore. Marcus pulls back from you just enough to give your clit some relief from his mouth, flipping you over so you’re laid on your tummy.

He runs his hands over your ass, stopping to squeeze just briefly, replacing his hand with his lips, which press kisses to the skin as his fingers drop lower, slipping into your slick pussy with ease. You’re almost ashamed of how quickly you push your hips back to meet the thrusts of his fingers inside of you, but when he opens his mouth to praise you, it’s all forgotten.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” You only moan in response, “Taking everything I give you; you wanted me to make you feel good, does it feel good Jones?”

“Marcus – fuck – you literally just made me come three times,” You’re speaking breathlessly, “Of course it feels fucking good.”

“Yeah, I know baby,” His voice is so sweet in your ear as his fingers are working in and out of your slick heat, “One more, one more just for me and then I’ll give you what you really want.”

You feel your pussy clench around those sweet fingers at his promise, the promise that he’ll shed his clothes and finally bury himself deep inside you. He curls them up in just the perfect way, hitting a spot inside you that you were only sure existed in myth. His mouth is still sucking and leaving marks across the skin of your ass and hips, wherever he can get them. Then, he’s shifting his position so he can snake his other hand underneath you, fingers gently rubbing your clit, soaked from the slick he’s managed to pull from you all evening.

“Come on baby,” He croons, “Can feel you getting all tight around these fingers,” He punctuates with a particularly hard thrust of his fingers, “Let go for me Jones, give me what I want.”

Who were you to deny him? Even though the movements of his fingers on your clit are gentle, it’s bordering on pain. You can feel yourself close to collapse, your knees shaking and struggling to keep you upright, but it’s the way your orgasm slams into you and has you literally soaking the bed that finally causes you to collapse on your front. Did he really just do that to you? Outwardly sweet and shy Marcus Pike? Did he really just make you fucking squirt?

You can’t think straight, you don’t think you could stand on your legs or tell anyone your own name. It’s entirely too much and you’re thankful that Marcus, the observant man that he is, knows you can’t give him anything else, at least not right now. He’s turned you over so you’re lying on your back, dress hitched up to your hips. He settles himself on his knees so he can shed his shirt and you can finally admire him properly. He’s broad, Jesus Christ, and his chest is covered in a spattering of hair and freckles, and you find yourself wanting to reach out and trace them with your tongue. Your eyes drop to where his hands are currently undoing his jeans, watching with hungry eyes as his hands push them down to reveal that trail of hair, dipping below the waistband of his underwear. Then his hands are on the hem of your dress and then he’s pulling it over your head. If you’d been a second quicker, you’d had realized what he was doing and be able to stop him, but it’s too late now, as his eyes settle on the reason you’re here in the first place.

“Fucking hell,” He exclaims, pulling back from you, “Is that a fucking gunshot wound?!”

You close your eyes and pray for your breathing to steady. This is the whole reason you don’t sleep with men, or anyone for that matter. That’s exactly what it is, you think, chest heaving, both from anxiety and the exertion he’s pulled from you. A horrible round scar, right below your left breast, and the other just below it, a long, thick, horrible scar that starts just underneath the bullet wound and finishes in the middle of your back, from where the first shot had missed.

“Marcus please,” You beg, not wanting to meet his eyes, “I can’t…” You trail off, “Not right now, I just want to be with you.”

“But it is, isn’t it?” He reaches out to trace your scars with his fingers, which makes you flinch.

You nod, grabbing hold of his wrist, “I can turn around,” You say softly, “If you don’t wanna look at them.”

He brings his hand to cup your face, “You did not just say that to me, sweet girl,” His own voice laced with emotion, “I don’t give a damn about looking at them, Jones, but you gotta talk to me.”

You’re about to open your mouth when his phone starts ringing in the pocket of his trousers somewhere on the floor. You can see the anger set into his jaw at being disturbed, he leaves it to ring long enough that you think he might just ignore it altogether, but then he thinks better of it, leaning over and fishing it from the floor.

“Pike.”

He’s still close enough to you that you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into your own, but more importantly, you can hear Steven on the other end of the phone.

“Boss, I’ve got an update.”

“Go on.” Marcus speaks, turning his face to you.

“I think we’ve found them.”

Marcus Pike Tag List: @morning-star-joy @tightjeansjavi @dinsdjrn @cupofjoel@sinsofsummers @cavillscurls @swiftispunk @theviolethourdeux@yvonneeeee @healmydesires @amanitacowboy @educated-zombie @patti7dc

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike. agnst #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fanfiction #The Mentalist #The mentalist fic #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal

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celientjeee · 10 months

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Sunshine & Strawberries

a Galex drabble (1,3k)

It was twenty-eight degrees and way too hot for Alex’s liking, the temperature wasn’t supposed to be this high in England. For some reasons he was fine with it in any other country but at home, at home he wanted the trusty cool weather, a nice breeze and maybe even some rain.

His boyfriend however seemed to disagree. He had dressed up in shorts this morning and told Alex he was going shopping so they could have a picnic in the park this afternoon, like a little date. Alex had complained about it, but George just laughed and pulled him closer.

‘It will be nice in the shade, trust me,’ George had said and with that he had kissed Alex and went to the store.

When he came back with two bags full of groceries, his face flushed and forehead damp with sweat, Alex had wanted to object again but the look of determination in George’s eyes had stopped him.

‘Do you want some help preparing the food?’ Alex asked after helping him unload the groceries on the counter.

George wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and shook his head.

‘No, you should get changed in swim trunks and get Otti from your mom’s. There’s a lake in the park so we could go for a swim as well,’ he said before he shooed Alex out of the kitchen.

Alex did as he was told, as he often did with George because he’d do literally anything to make him happy and it was also very hard to say no to him. He’d just pout with those beautiful lips of his and bat his long eyelashes until Alex caved.

When he came back with Otti by his side there was already a big picnic basket on the kitchen table, loaded with food and next to it was a cooler with some drinks. Alex also spotted a bowl, some water and a ball for Otti and his heart warmed, George always thought of everything. Everything but one thing…

‘You’re amazing, Georgie,’ Alex smiled, kissing his boyfriend's cheek. ‘Did you pack some sunscreen as well?’

‘Oh Sugar, no I didn’t,’ George muttered and he quickly ran upstairs after patting Otti’s head in greeting.

The park was only a short walk away from George’s apartment, but the two of them were still sweating when they arrived. Otti was panting beside them, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he pulled on his leash when he spotted two other dogs running around.

‘Let’s sit over there,’ George pointed at a large tree close to the water. The tree provided plenty of shade and there weren’t too many people there yet, making it the perfect spot for their little picnic.

As soon as they put down their bags and layed down a blanket, George pulled off his shirt. His flawless skin made Alex stop what he was doing as he stared at his boyfriend’s chest, his eyes following the muscles down to his hips and the little hairs under his navel and he licked his lips. He would never ever get sick of this view.

‘Are you going to keep staring or..?’ George smirked, inching closer to Alex and putting his big hands on his hips. ‘You want to go for a swim or have some food first?’

Alex tilted his head, thinking. ‘A swim first, then some food.’

George nodded in agreement and pulled Alex’s shirt up, helping him take it off before leaning down to Otti to unleash him.

‘Last one in the water has to do the dishes,’ he grinned before bolting away with lightning speed.

Alex yelped in surprise and quickly followed, Otti racing ahead of him. It was silly really, since they had a dishwasher at home, but it was fun all the same. George was often very serious, especially during race weekends, but when they were together he turned into the biggest goofball and Alex loved it.

George reached the water first and dove in with a loud ‘whoop’ while Otti was right behind him, barking happily as he splashed around in the water. The water was nice and cool when Alex walked in and he let out a happy sigh at the feeling.

‘Albono, get in here already,’ George yelled from a few meters ahead, already floating on his back.

Alex smiled and held his breath before diving in, swimming under water until he reached George. He grabbed his boyfriend’s ankle, hearing him screech, before coming up and wiping the water from his eyes.

‘I hate it when you do that,’ George pouted as he latched onto Alex’s body immediately. Wrapping his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck.

‘I’m sorry,’ Alex smiled, kissing George's nose as he wrapped his arms around him and enjoyed the feeling of their cool wet chests touching each other.

‘No, you’re not,’ George muttered but Alex could see his lips tugging up in a smile.

‘However can I make it up to you, my love?’ Alex grinned, his hands wandering down to George’s butt and squeezing.

George yelped and let out a loud laugh. ‘Hmm let me think, how abou-’

Alex didn’t let him finish his sentence and kissed him. George’s lips felt cool and soft as they parted slightly, allowing Alex to slip his tongue inside and deepen the kiss. George hummed and let his hands slide through Alex’s wet hair and then down again to his shoulders, his fingers exploring the skin until they locked behind his neck again.

When George pulled back they were both panting, but not from the warm weather this time. Alex let his forehead lean against George’s and for a moment they breathed in each other's air.

‘All good now?’ Alex whispered, pecking George’s lips again.

George nodded and tightened his arms around his neck. ‘All good.’

They stayed in the water a while longer, playing with Otti, splashing water and chasing each other around. When Alex noticed Otti getting tired, they went back to their blanket in the shade, laying out all the food George had brought.

‘Wow you really outdid yourself,’ Alex laughed when George kept handing him bowls of food.

There were strawberries, grapes, pieces of melon, little cucumber sandwiches, some sausage rolls, egg muffins and crisps. He also brought some treats for Otti and the dog happily chewed on them before laying down at the edge of the blanket and closing his eyes.

‘Anything for you,’ George winked as he poured some juice into a plastic cup.

‘Well, I must say that I was wrong before, this was a nice idea,’ Alex smiled, sipping his drink and letting his eyes wander around the park.

There were multiple families, some couples and also groups of friends, enjoying the shade and the cool water. He was glad no one seemed to recognize them or if they did, that they left them alone. It was nice to spend some quality time with George like this and he really hoped they would be able to do this more often.

George held out a piece of strawberry to him and Alex happily opened his mouth, allowing his boyfriend to feed him the fruit. It was sweet and perfect and Alex moaned and closed his eyes. God, all strawberries should be just like that one.

When he opened his eyes again George was staring at him, eyes locked on his mouth.

‘Can I have another one?’ Alex asked, batting his eyelashes at George and opening his mouth.

George nodded and blindly reached for a strawberry, nearly knocking over his juice, making Alex giggle and Otti lift up his head.

‘Careful, love,’ Alex teased.

‘Just open your mouth, babe,’ George replied, holding the strawberry in front of Alex

Alex did just that and if he bit George’s finger and made him gasp, that was a total accident.

#surprise!!#a little galex fic from me to you all the way from my holiday in tenerife #galex drabble #galex fic #alex/george #f1 rpf #galex #celinewrites

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ursulaismymiddlename · 2 years

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A Broken Nose and Two Black Eyes for Rep. Radcliff Courtesy Bruce Wayne in Champagne Cork Incident! - Battinson fluff

you can blame thank @captainpoopweinersoldier for the Battinson drabbles haha

“And with that, we will call this charity auction to a close! We would like to thank all of you for attending our event and for all your contributions to help rebuild our great city. Winning bidders can join us at the auctioneer table. The rest, please enjoy your meals!”

That was your queue.

All of the little worker bees in their sharply pressed servers’ uniforms, blustering out between tables filled with Gotham’s most well-to-do to deliver expensive plates of food in too small portions. Fashionable, of course. But it was honest work, at least. And the catering company paid pretty damn well for these fancy events. Not to mention, if you came across one of these big-wigs and flashed them a nice enough smile, you stood to make some decent tips. Especially when the champagne flowed as freely as it did this evening.

Then again…

“Took you long enough.” Not even the pricey tailored suit could help the amorphous shape of the man, who barely swallowed his buttered dinner roll before barking at you. “My glass has been empty for the last 10 minutes and I’m starving.”

“I am so sorry, sir,” you replied, your most sympathetic customer service voice in place.�� “I will have the bottleman come by as soon as I finish serving your table.”

By the look on his face, your reasonable and courteous response was not good enough. “Why don’t you go get my drink now?”

Your hands were quite literally full, distributing plates to the other diners at the table. At least one had the decency to roll their eyes at the boorish man, but none bothered to make eye contact with you. That was the thing about some of these big important people; they could spend beaucoup bucks at a charity auction, but heaven forbid they acknowledge The Help.

Instead of arguing, you turned to gesture for someone to come over, but he must have caught your look of annoyance, because his voice became even more agitated. “Hey! Do you know who I am?”

In truth, you didn’t, but you weren’t sure telling him that was quite the right way to handle the situation. Before you could open your mouth to try appeasing the man, someone else’s voice interjected from behind your other shoulder.

“I certainly do.”

To your shock, it was none other than the illustrious Bruce Wayne, billionaire-recluse-turned-philanthropist. You heard he was expected to attend the event, but it always seemed to be hit or miss if the media was to be believed. But there he was, standing next to you with a fresh bottle of champagne in hand, still dripping from the ice it had been in. His face was a little dour for someone who’d just gotten a winning bid on some priceless work of art, but then again the emo boy look seemed to work for him.

“Representative Radcliff,” he smiled politely, though it barely reached his eyes. And as though any introductions were actually needed, “Bruce Wayne.”

“Of course, Mr Wayne,” the man gawked. Obviously even the politician was starstruck by the unexpected intrusion as he stood to offer his hand. You weren’t certain how things went behind closed doors, but the media gave the impression that Bruce Wayne was still rather withdrawn despite all his publicly good deeds and new, sparse appearances.

But this was not your first high-profile event and you were a professional, though you could have thanked Wayne for the distraction so you could go about your business serving the guests. Of course, no one in the general vicinity could help stealing glances at the newcomer and the exchange.

“It’s good to meet an elected official,” the younger man nodded before raising his bottle. “I was bringing this back to the table when I overheard you were thirsty. Would you like some of mine?”

Radcliff chuckled and waved his hand slightly. “Oh no, no, Mr Wayne. There are people for that!”

“No, I insist.” Wayne tucked the bottle against his chest and started to fiddle with the stopper.

This time, Ratcliff's laughter was nervous as he eyed the bottle. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course,” the billionaire, sparing a glance. “My butler taught me.”

You were just setting the last plate down when you heard it; the tell-tale pop of the cork. Except this time it was followed by a startled shout and the gasps of everyone at the table. Radcliff doubled over, cursing and clutching his face as a bit of blood slipped between his fingers.

“My nose!” he sputtered. “You- You broke my nose!”

Bruce Wayne knew how to open a bottle of champagne alright, he just didn’t know how not to aim it at someone. You had to bite your lip to keep from bursting out in laughter as guests from all around began to crowd toward the injured man. You were about to make a swift exit to find an usher when your gaze happened to lock with Wayne’s. If you didn’t know any better, you could swear his eyes had finally sparked to life and he gave you the quickest of smirks before turning his attention to apologize to Radcliff.

You didn’t stick around to watch what happened, mostly because the crowd was growing and you did not want to be caught up in all the drama. The other servers chattered about the politician being rushed off to the hospital the rest of the night. And you could hardly contain your grin when you saw an article headline a few days later: A Broken Nose and Two Black Eyes for Rep. Radcliff Courtesy Bruce Wayne in Champagne Cork Incident!

#the batman 2022 #kati writes #battinson #battinson drabble #battinson fluff

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itsadragonaesthetic · 3 months

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Found what I think is a Zebra-tailed Lizard deep underground while digging a new garden bed. I was so worried I had chopped a limb off or something but they were actually totally fine. I was also worried I had cut their tail but uh nope. It's just... that small. There's even a break in the scale texture halfway down the tail. Looks like the zebra tail did work for them at one point.

I held onto them in my extremely hot hands until they could run on their own. They were in a winter torpor state and I didn't want them to run away while they were still groggy and go straight into the mouth of the neighbor's chickens or dog. I'm so happy I somehow didn't hurt them I would have given them a kiss if they weren't covered in dirt.

ANYWAY the lizard was kinda just an excuse to talk about my new garden bed! I literally don't know what I'm doing and I'm just sorta doing what makes sense to me. I want it to be a three-sister's garden... hopefully. I honestly don't garden for food or anything. It's just for fun. I live near a lot of heritage gardens and I have pretty easy access to centuries-old crop varieties so a three-sisters garden sounds like fun. I've honestly never found any sources of a person trying a three sisters garden and thinking it was worth it but often the person was a kinda biased seasoned gardener who just went "I like this corn. I like these beans. I like this squash. Let's grow them together" and then acted surprised when the beans crushed the corn and the squash took over the whole garden. I suppose I may perhaps have some success if I grow varieties that are known to work well together.

That's if literally anything grows lmao. The ground is actually not that bad here. It's never been stripped for a lawn or anything. It's just dirt near what used to be a chicken coop just outside of a mobile home-turned-house and garden. Previous owner was all about plants n shit.

London rockets and all kinds of common weedy plants grow in this area, as well as some stuff that I have no clue what it is. Digging through the dirt revealed that it was quite compact clay, but full of some cool stuff. A few old and hollow cocoons and as stated above, a hibernating lizard. It was also full of roots probably from the surrounding small trees. That could be a problem? I think? I kinda want to cut them down anyway cuz we have enough trees for gods sake. But hey it's proof that the soil isn't so compact that nothing can grow. Regardless, I put some soil conditioning stuff in it and some regular soil that I basically always keep cooking in a bag with some dead stuff in a shed. The whole bed is in a small depression cuz uhhhh this is how the heritage gardens around here do it I don't see why you would have mounds to "save space". Makes no sense to me. Dig further, idiot. Anyway yeah I guess I'll just keep in mind that I shouldn't grow anything that likes sandy textures here.

It recently rained so that made everything a thousand times more difficult but yippie it's done and I tested how absorbant the soil was when I was done and it was pretty damn good! Quite literally the first time I was ever able to make water drain and absorb really well without straight up using potting soil. I covered it with cedar bark chips cuz it's all I had as mulch. Mulch is important pretty much everywhere but it's super important here where the sun can literally fry eggs in the summer. Mulch doesn't typically exist in large quantities anywhere in my surrounding area, hence the growing habit to have wide, shallow roots or to grow near washes and just have a super huge taproot.

Additionally, I tried to cut out a space that was as big as I could make it cuz I know you need a lot of corn for the cobs to fully develop, but it's still probably not enough. I'm cool with that tho cuz like I said, this is for fun and experience in an environment where fucking up a garden isn't gonna ruin my finances or starve my family. I'm a little more excited about the beans anyway.

So yeah, kinda excited but trying not to get my hopes up and I'm telling myself this is for fun and it's a learning experience. I'll probably be cutting out another garden space or two for sunflowers and More Beans and whatever else I think will be fun.

#feeling talkative but not social #if you know what i mean #so heres a long post where i talk about whatever i fkn feel like #garden #my posts #dragon speaks

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saybees · 3 years

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Some days Oscar and I are friends and some days he barks LOUDLY out of nowhere for no reason while I'm doing homework or napping and I hate him just a little bit

#dog tag #he barks at literally nothing #and i cant interrupt him unless i literally scream at him #and i cant give him food/treats to try to quiet him and teach him quiet #because he will keep barking while eating #like literally with a mouth full of food will still be barking #the only thing that has worked in the past is locking him away for a few minutes until he stops #and then letting him out when hes quiet #but when im exhausted and trying to sleep i cant get up every 2 minutes to do that #and when im doing school work i cant get up away from my desk every 2 minutes either #ive had people tell me i should try a bark collar #and i probably will tbh #i just havent been able to figure out which one to buy #because all the reviews ive read ever pretty much all say they have a delay #which seems really unhelpful #im so fucking tired and i have barely slept much this week so far #and i just wanted a fucking nap #but he kept barking #and now i cant fall asleep because im too mad #me @ oscar: 🖕

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dismal-alien-darling · 3 years

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The Gentle Heart of the Monster

Alcina Dimitrescu x female reader

Bela, Cassandra and Daniela Dimitrescu

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu and her daughers take care of a very pregnant reader.

Warnings/tags: pregnancy, slight pregnancy kink, talk of impregnation, some sexiness, Lady D and her daughters are so caring, personal attention, caring for a pregnant woman, wholesomeness

A/n: For the sake of the fic Alcina carried and birthed her daughters so she has extensive knowledge on vampire babies/pregnancy. Let’s say they are fraternal triplets to make things simple. No father involved just witchy baby magic just let me have this please!

y/n=your name

b/n=future baby’s name

“Ugh! You’re close to overstaying your welcome b/n!” you groaned as b/n gave your ribs a firm kick. You were seven months pregnant with still two months to go and you were over being pregnant. As if being pregnant wasn’t hard enough, having a human-vampire spawn growing inside of you was an entirely different animal. Alcina had come to you with the request of you carrying her next child a few years after you had come to live in the castle. You started as a servant, then her personal hand maid, then her lover and now her brood mare. Lady Dimitrescu would have trusted no one else to carry her next child. You had initially refused her request. You deeply loved Alcina but not enough to have some Dimitrescu man rut you like a rabbit in heat. Lady Dimitrescu had laughed, given you a very sly look and then explained how the conception would happen. You had listened mouth agape closing it after Alcina was done explaining. When you were told SHE would be the one impregnating you your decision instantly changed to a resounding yes. The rest was history.

“B/n hurting my dove again?” Alcina cooed kneeling down to take your shoes off. You grumbled in response. You had spent most of your pregnancy in one of the lounge rooms upstairs. It had the most comfortable chairs in the castle accompanied by equally comfortable foot rests. It had a fireplace and an adjacent balcony with a lovely outside dinette set. The doors leading to the balcony were made of glass so you got plenty of sunshine and had easy access to fresh air. Lady Dimitrescu had joined you every day as often as she could in your little sanctuary. She would often read in the chair across from you, rub your feet, neck, shoulders and back or you would curl up in her lap so you and her could caress your growing bump. Even the first two months your pregnancy had been challenging due to the circumstances. You had been around countless pregnant women in your old village and none of their pregnancies resembled yours, in some aspects yes but most aspects no.

“B/n, you little shit, stop hurting your mother,”Alcina chastised the baby inside you. You chuckled. It always made you laugh when Alcina and the girls would talk and vaguely threaten b/n. Alcina sat on the floor, placing your shoes to the side and began rubbing your feet with her inhumanly strong hands. You sighed in relief. You settled further into the chair placing your hands on your stomach as b/n continued their assault on your insides.

“Ow fuck!” you cried as b/n dragged their foot along the length of your stomach as if they were trying to rip your skin. You sat up doubling over.

“My dear sweet y/n,” Alcina said placing a comforting hand on your head stroking your head. She glared at your stomach and as if the baby could see her terrifying glare b/n finally settled and stopped moving. You lifted your head and slumped back into the chair. Alcina gave you a delicate smile and continued to rub your sore feet.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up my lady,” you confessed tears forming in your eyes.

“I know I know dear one. Growing a vampire baby is a daunting task. The girls were fist fighting even in the womb and look at them now! Ah, but alas my body was more than equipped to handle the pregnancy.” Alcina admitted. She had been in her same form she was now when she had been pregnant with her triplet girls. You however, were still a feeble human so just one vampire-human baby was more than enough for you.

“I’m so weak and fragile I’m too-” you were cut off by Alcina placing a hand on your stomach.

“My dove don’t start...” Lady Dimitrescu trailed off. You simply nodded in response wiping your eyes. You hated how emotional you had become. Alcina hated when you tore yourself apart especially now since you were carrying her fourth child. Alcina and you had discussed the mechanics of what a vampire pregnancy would entail making sure you were fully aware of what was ahead of you. You accepted the task because you would literally die for Alcina Dimitrescu. You had also discussed that if b/n were to almost kill you coming out she would turn you no questions asked.

“Would you like me to rub your neck and back draga mea?” Alcina asked breaking your recollections. You nodded leaning forward as Alcina moved behind the chair. She could fully sit on the floor and still be tall enough to reach your neck and back comfortably. “You look so beautiful cel mic, I love how you look with your child growing inside you, our child. I must admit I’m going to miss you looking like this when b/n arrives,” Alcina fawned as you gave her hand a quick squeeze. “If you weren’t hurting sweet one I would take you right here and now,” Alcina purred into your ear. You twisted your neck meeting your lips with hers. During the first few months Alcina hadn’t held back making love to you in your early stages but now you were too sore to entertain the idea.

“You flatter me so Alcina,” you said licking her lips before deepening your kiss. Alcina reached down snaking her hand over your belly rubbing it softly. She moved her hand and ever so gently touched your swollen breasts. “Oh my dear lady,” you moaned into her lips. Lady Dimitrescu moved her hand down your stomach again and was just passing your hips when the doors to the lounge room flew open. You and Alcina jumped apart breaking your tender moment.

“LUNCH TIME!” Bela announced pushing a tray full of delicious food and snacks. Her sisters followed in behind her pushing another tray of herbs and drinks.

“Oh thank you my loves,” you thanked as Bela, Cassandra and Daniela presented the spread to you. Cassandra began mixing the herbs into a liquid which she poured into your tea. It was mix of supplements and pain relievers. You gladly gulped the tea as the almost instant effects settled into your aching body.

“I have water, more tea, juice and milk,” Cassandra offered.

“Thank you Cassandra just set it down for the moment,” you said.

“So you have bread, that’s...feta and brie cheese, tomato slices, ham, salami, fresh basil, I picked it myself,”Bela boasted.

“But I have grapes, strawberries, almonds, roasted chicken and chocolate cake,” Daniela boasted back glaring at Bela. Since you had been pregnant the girls had been competing to see who could take care of you better.

“You’re feeling better aren’t you y/n because of my herbal mixture right?” Cassandra asked pushing past her sisters.

“I can rub your feet!” Bela offered kneeling down and getting right to work.

“Well I can rub your neck and shoulders,” Daniela barked bulldozing her mother out of the way. Alcina looked sternly at her daughter in response.

“You two didn’t ask her what she really wants! What would you like me to do for you and b/n y/n?” Cassandra asked sweetly. Alcina could see her daughters were overwhelming you.

“GIRLS!” Alcina bellowed making all three girls freeze. “You’re going to make y/n go into early labor if you don’t quiet down.” Alcina continued in a low and deadly voice. You spoke up to diffuse the situation.

“My lovely caring girls. All three-four of you,” you started looking up at Lady Dimitrescu, “are doing a wonderful job taking care of me and b/n. You all have made this pregnancy so much easier for me and I don’t know how I’ll ever be able repay the countless hours you’ve devoted to us.” You finished eyes welling up with tears for a different reason this time.

“AWE Y/N!” The girls squealed in delight as they gathered around you hugging you lovingly but gently because they knew if they were the slightest bit too rough with you mother would have their necks. You gave them each a kiss on their heads eliciting even more squealing. You glanced over at Alcina who had a single tear running down her face. She quickly wiped it away and cleared her throat.

“I can clearly see you and b/n are well taken care of here so I’m assuming I’m not needed,” Lady Dimitrescu teased. You rolled your eyes as the girls removed themselves from you.

“Oh no my lady, you’re job is to be the most beautiful view for me,” you teased back as Alcina leaned down kissing you chastely. “Now my angels you can each take turns rubbing my feet and then when I’m finished eating you can take turns rubbing my neck, shoulders and back. Does that sound like a good plan to all of you?” You finished with a feigned tone of exasperation.

“Yes!” The girls said in delight and just before they could bicker about who was to go first you exclaimed “Bela you can be first, then Cassandra and then Daniela and that was the order that popped up in my head,” you assured before any of their feelings could be hurt. Bela knelt down again as her sisters sat on the floor waiting their turn. Alcina walked over to the chair opposite you and picked up her book from where she had left it the other day. She took a seat admiring the beautiful picture of her pregnant lover and her three daughters so eager to attend her.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu x fem reader #fanfiction #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu

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stuff-from-the-void-matron · 3 years

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Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (10)

(technoblade x fem!reader)

(a/n: y’all seemed to like chapter 9 so here’s chapter 10! I know, I know. still no technoblade! BUT! he WILL be arriving soon~ very soon. >:3c but for now just enjoy the rest of the utter nonsense that’s the election. and remember! reblogs and comments REALLY make writing the next chapter possible. if y’all lose interest then so will I. so reblog and comment y’all! <3)

There was an eerie silence hanging over everyone in attendance. Nobody quite knew what to say, or even how to react to this startling new information. Not a soul spoke as a few people on stage and in the audience shared confused glances, not even whispering their questions to each other lest they shatter the heavy stillness. At least that was the case before HBomb hopped up out of his chair and gave a loud and cheerful “WHOO! NEW PRESIDENT!” that successfully slam dunked everyone back into the moment at hand.

Suddenly you were surrounded by noise as everyone started talking at once.

Meanwhile you remained mostly unaware of it, well more like distantly aware of it.

You stared up at the stage, locked in place from how floored you still were.

What in the absolute hell was Wilbur talking about??

You can’t have won! Because you weren’t running!

So there’s no way for you to WIN something you were never actively competing for!

There had to be a mistake. Maybe this was just some more of their silly pranks and japes before they read off the real winner, which actually wasn’t that huge of a stretch for this SMP if you were being honest. Or at least that’s what you were telling yourself anyways. Vaguely you could hear voices talking all around you, but it seemed far away, so you weren’t really registering what was being said. You were mostly just staring blankly at the stage, not really seeing any of the people up there as you tried to process what just happened.

It took Tubbo grabbing your elbow and shaking it to snap you out of the almost trance like state you'd slipped into. You looked down and he actually looked excited, but you could also see shock in his expression as well. You looked behind you to the rest of the crowd and some were clapping and cheering while others stood silent, shocked like you if you had to hazard a guess. You looked back up at the stage when you heard Tommy calling you to come up with them. You were still sorta frozen but thankfully Tubbo nudged you forward, reminding you that you needed to move. Silently you made your way up to the podium, mouth feeling dry and stomach feeling like it was full of stones.

Now that you were zoned back in you could hear the arguing coming from the podium. You were sort of dreading coming face to face with Wilbur, already knowing how… not great he took Schlatt winning from the original timeline. And he apparently knew and was friends with the ram hybrid. So you couldn’t see him being happy you won.. But when you got to the stage where the others were you couldn’t focus on Wilbur because all at once your vision was overtaken by Tommy, who was babbling about how you won! And how the hell did you win?? You weren’t even running! And how he’s pretty down they lost but at least Quackity and George didn’t win! (that got a ‘fuck you!’ out of the Spanish speaking young man) You gave a weak chuckle and said you’re not sure how or why you won but it was crazy indeed.

Quackity, Schlatt, and George were the most vocal about not thinking the results were fair. Though to be clear, Wilbur didn’t look thrilled either, but he was doing his best to look professional or put together you guessed. Or at least not blow up in front of literally everyone. You kept an eye on him while Tommy led you up to the mic and told you to give your first decree as president. But you sorta… didn’t want to be president. You hoped you wouldn’t upset anyone by not accepting the job. But you didn’t think you’d make a good leader. So you turned away from the mic, hoping nobody but the ones beside you on stage would hear when you asked if you had to accept the role.

This caught all the mens’ attention and Wilbur was quick to give you an out, saying no you didn’t technically HAVE to accept the presidency. In fact if you weren’t ready or willing to fill the role then the runners up, aka him and Tommy, would happily do so for you. But then Quackity, Schlatt, and surprisingly Fundy said that wasn’t fair either since both Pog2020 and Schlatt/Swag2020 were tied with the amount of votes. And you had to admit, that didn’t seem fair. But Wilbur perked up and you’d swear in that moment he was the embodiment of the ‘lightbulb above head’ phrase. Then he grinned and turned to Fundy and Niki and asked to speak to them before urging them and Tommy off the stage, leaving you and Schlatt/Swag2020 on the stage alone.

Not wanting to leave everyone in the audience hanging, you gave a polite smile and assured them that the others just wanted to…. recount the votes! They weren’t sure Wilbur counted them right so they figured recounting with some other witnesses there would clear things up! The crowd shared confused glances but it was Tubbo who yelled out that that sounded sus as hell! And if he were you he’d think they were trying to cheat or something! You snorted a laugh but assured him it was alright and you didn’t think they’d be that ballsy~

-0-

Fundy and Niki followed behind Wilbur and Tommy, the latter of the two males just as confused about what Wilbur was up to as the pair behind him. But then they all gathered in the white house and Wilbur turned to the members of Coconut2020 and said he had a proposition for them! The brunet said that since it was clear that you weren’t really up to being president, his tone derisive like your refusal of the position was tantamount to spitting in his food, then if Fundy and Niki agreed to combine their votes with Swag2020 then Wilbur could be president again and things could go back to normal!

But the blonde woman and fox hybrid didn’t look convinced.. Niki said they’d just be giving them their votes so they could win, while they got nothing? Fundy frowned and asked what positions he and Niki would have in the Pog2020 cabinet if they joined their votes with theirs. Here is where Wilbur hesitated, unsure what positions he could give them. But then he smiled and said Niki would be the First Woman, since she was the first woman to join L’manberg! And Fundy would of course be everyone’s Little Champion! He couldn’t help but baby talk his son, he’d never been able to take Fundy seriously, not really anyways. What with his alert little triangle ears, furry face, soft little paw beans, and fluffy tail. He was just too cute for Wilbur to take him seriously. Even now. But it was this attitude that would be his downfall. Because it’s what caused Fundy to snap.

“No, Wilbur! This is serious! I’m not some baby for you to dress up and prance around! I’m a fucking adult! I have my own house, I pay taxes, I fought in a war for fucks sake!” the hybrid shouted, clearly upset.

Wilbur was shocked but tried to calm Fundy down, not fully realizing how mad his son was until the red haired male practically snarled,

“I’m not going to sit here and hand over the votes Niki and I earned just so you can treat me like a child!”

Without another word he turned on his heel and stormed out of the white house, leaving three stunned people behind. Tommy looked up at Wilbur, opening and closing his mouth, wanting so badly to say something, maybe lighten the awkward mood but not knowing what or even if he should speak at all. Meanwhile Niki just sighed and gave Wilbur a soft disappointed look. She knew Wilbur loved his son, and that often translated to him babying the hybrid. But she’d warned him, as kindly as she could, that it seemed to upset Fundy that his own father wouldn’t treat him like anything but a kid. She’s not a parent herself, so she figures it must be hard for a parent to see their child as anything but a child, even after they’ve grown.

But she can see Fundy’s side too. It must be massively frustrating to be looked upon like you’re just a kid. Especially since Wilbur doesn’t even treat Tommy, his own younger brother, as a child as much as he does Fundy. And she’d seen first hand how Wilbur’s attitude towards Fundy, whether or not the brunet intended for it to happen or not, did in fact influence how others treated the red furred hybrid. She’d seen Tommy, Tubbo, Eret, Sapnap, and even herself a couple times sort of not treat Fundy with the respect you’d show to a fellow adult. She tried her best to kick that habit, and her and Fundy’s friendship had really blossomed thanks to it, she thinks. But she believes Wilbur just pushed his son to his breaking point…

“He’s right, Wilbur. You can’t keep babying him. He’s a grown up now..” Niki said neutrally.

Then she let out a tired sounding breath of air and turned to follow after the fox hybrid, saying she would go check on him. But she also said Wilbur needed to talk to him later, man to man, and make things right. Said brunet looked rather flummoxed, not sure what the hell just happened. It was Tommy who broke the silence by giving an almost weak sounding ‘holy shit’. Wilbur turned his perplexed gaze to his brother and asked what the HELL that was all about! Said blond winced and gave a sigh while awkwardly scratching the back of his head, not thrilled with the weird turn this conversation took, but answered Wilbur,

“Ehh… looks like you and Fundy have some unresolved personal issues, bud..”

Wilbur barked that this wasn’t the time for Fundy to let some personal vendetta against him cloud his reasoning! They were in the middle of the do or die of the election! If they couldn’t get Fundy and Niki to agree to join their votes with theirs then they won’t win! And they’ll be in a tie with Schlatt and Quackity! Wilbur jerked his hands down, like he wanted to slam them against a table or something. But instead he just viciously scrubbed his fingers through his curly hair, feeling embittered with everyone around him. All he’d wanted was to lead HIS country! Like he rightfully should have been able to! All this election bollocks and now he was having to try and convince HIS OWN SON to help him stay president?! If it were him and Phil needed help he’d give it! Well he would if Phil were ever fucking around..

The sound of a crowd cheering caused the two to whip their heads towards the area where the stage was before they looked at each other. Not a word was spoken between them as they both took off in a run towards the stage, wondering what happened and what they were missing. They rounded the corner of the building to the left of the stage to see you smiling and waving daintily to the crowd. Not sure what they’d missed, Wilbur rushed up to Niki and asked what happened. Did you accept the presidency already??

Niki raised an eyebrow at her friend and nodded, saying you’d finally relented and accepted the role as president after she and Fundy came back from ‘recounting the votes’. Niki hummed and said she figured that you finally accepted the results after it was made clear that if you didn’t then everything would be stuck in a tie. But then Niki’s reflecting mood brightened and she said she really thought you’d do a good job as the new president. Even joking that you had to be better than Schlatt.

Niki never voiced it out loud but she’d been worried Schlatt and Quackity would win. Schlatt was the biggest worry for her. To his credit, he was actually a really funny guy and she could see why Wilbur was friends with him, they just had a good chemistry and their senses of humor bounced off each other well. But… Schlatt could also be blatantly power hungry and hateful if not kept in check from the few times she’d met him or heard stories about him from Wilbur. Niki felt like giving him the amount of authority that came with being president would only end poorly. And Quackity was an alright guy in her opinion but he could be vindictive and petty too. She got the vibe that any amount of power given to him would instantly go to his head and turn him into a jerk.

But again, these were just her personal (and not spoken aloud) opinions…

She always hated being mean to people and saying hurtful things. So she kept her opinions to herself more often than not. Unless it was super important anyways. So instead of elaborating on Why she was so relieved that Schlatt and Quackity hadn’t won she instead flashed the two members of Pog2020 a smile and said it had been a fun race, and despite all the drama she really thinks Tommy’s friend will do a good job. Then with a keen raise of her eyebrows the blonde suggested with a cute smile,

“Oh, maybe you could be a member of Reader’s Cabinet! I’m sure she’ll be needing a vice president, secretary of defense, treasury, and other positions!”

Niki was honestly just trying to cheer up her friend, but the cheerful smile slipped off her face at the dark look that crossed Wilbur’s. She grew concerned when she saw how hard he was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. His behavior over the last few weeks had been slowly worrying her, but this was starting to make her anxious. And when he started marching towards the stage she shot a panicked look to Tommy, who could do nothing but give her an equally worried and confused face before they both tried to hurry after their brown haired friend. But he got up onto the stage before either of them could grab his arm, and Niki was about to call after him but he reached your side, clearing his throat and alerting you to his presence.

You looked down and saw him standing at attention next to you, hand outstretched for a handshake and a polite but serious smile on his face. You were surprised, thinking he was handling this with more grace than you’d expected, but a feeling deep in your gut was still on edge. You knew the destruction Wilbur Soot was all too willing and capable of doing in the selfish pursuit of keeping power over the country he made. The lives of his friends and family be damned. So while you really really wanted to hope that Wilbur will be better since you won over the other parties… you’re also highly skeptical that he will manage to keep his sanity.

But instead of showing any of your reservations you instead simply smile and shake his hand, thanking him for congratulating your win and promising him you’ll do your best with the presidency and taking care of L’manberg. And if you noticed how his smile looked a little too angry at the edges then you didn’t say anything..

So instead of dealing with the mess that was Wilbur Soot you focused on the crowd and let go of Wilbur’s hand to stand at the sort of comically short podium and spoke out to the people you were now responsible for,

“Well, this all was certainly unexpected..”

Chuckles erupted from the crowd at that, making you feel a bit better about all of this. At least you weren’t the only one to see how wild all of this mess was.

“I’m actually really shocked! I wasn’t intending to run for president but I suppose life has other plans for me. But regardless, I’m honored you’ve all put your faith in me to lead you. I swear to do my absolute best for you and help L’manberg flourish.”

Applause from the crowd made you give a genuine smile. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad?

-0-

In the audience, watching this all unfold behind a mask and tapping his foot, stood the familiar looking figure in a green hood. Hanging around next to him was Sapnap in all his black and white dressed glory. And at some point George had gotten bored with the drama on stage and had left Quackity’s side (not that the duck hybrid had even noticed or cared) and wandered over to stand with his two friends. They watched Wilbur hand over the presidency to you and George made an off hand comment that Wilbur sure didn’t look pleased with losing, a smug laugh in his sleepy tone. Sapnap snickered but stared at you and elbowed his taller friend, asking in a curious tone while subtly gesturing to you,

“Speaking of, why didn’t you tell us you’d let someone new on the server, Dream?”

His friend glanced at him for a second longer than normal before replying with a tense tone to his voice that he hadn’t let her on. That caused both Sapnap and George to jerk their heads up to look at him in visible confusion. While George stammered through a series of ‘what’s’ and ‘wait hold on-’ Sapnap was loudly questioning what the hell he meant. The mask wearing player shushed them both before looking up to see if anyone had heard them or looked over at the twos’ loud exclamations. Thankfully nobody had. So he sighed and led them a bit further away from the crowd and explained that he’d not authorized any new members to the server. and it was true, he hadn’t. But both hybrids still looked confused and George asked, clearly puzzled,

“Well then how did she get on the server?? Nobody else can let people on, right, Dream?”

Sapnap nodded but stopped when their taller friend let out a flat hum before shaking his head ‘no’. That caught the shorter twos’ attention so he elaborated by asking them,

“Who on this server is known to have Creative Mode?”

The two blinked before it dawned on them and they looked even more shocked than before, only now it was coupled with anxiousness. Sapnap harshly whispered to the two, asking why the hell fucking GOD himself would actually let someone onto the server?? DreamXD never bothered with players and stuff, only being rumored to be seen by players if they broke server rules. George added on that this all sounded really weird. And an idea hit him and he couldn’t help but voice it.

“You don’t think… she’s linked to DreamXD.. do you? Like working for him or something?” he asked a touch nervously.

The other two didn’t say anything, not really knowing what to say to that. Sapnap could only shrug while the tallest of their group remained silent, none of them having any answers to the string of questions they’d just let loose.

They would just have to wait and see it seemed.

-0-

@lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant @thegeekisheere @sparkling-gayyy

#technoblade x reader #techno x reader #technoblade #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt x reader #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!wilbur #c!fundy #c!niki #c!quackity #c!schlatt #c!george #c!sapnap #c!dream

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pokeheadcannons97 · 3 years

Note

May I request Milo x punk/gothic reader? Like,, reader and their band just moved into turffield so they could relax from the city life they previously lived in, but everyone in the community is kinda intimidated by the group- that is until Milo decides to be the first one to go and welcome them but he is immediately infatuated with reader and he becomes flustered talking to them 💕💕💕💕🥺🥺

Decides to bring a basket filled with farm fresh veggies and a few cheeses made from his families farm.

The thing is literally overfilled and he still attempts on putting a jar of cheri jelly in there.

He had heard the rumors about a group of people buying the vacant house near the edge of town. The rumors however, not the best.

Milo's eyes widened as he heard the comments like,

"Witches, I tell you! No one wears that much black."

"Their Houndoom tried to chase my poor Lillipup when the walked it! They're trouble. Why would you own a scary Houndoom? They're vicious."

"They look like they're devil worshippers, Arceus help us... back in my day...."

Milo was very skeptical of the comments that made their way through the townsfolk. Older people could be stickers, young kiddos twist what they saw sometimes out of poor memory. And looks dont mean that you're evil or anything of that kind of sort.

He was dressed in casual attire for his day off from the gym, a rarity. What better to spend some of it getting a new arrival to their now shared home of Turrfield?

Milo came to the home's entrance sidewalk. He noted that rows of black tulips had been planted in the garden boxes that lined the sidewalk. A couple of red rose bushes were planted on the lush grass of the front yard, still very small.

"People who love plants, can't be terrible people." Milo said with a smile and went to knock on the door.

The door opened and he was met face to face with no other than Y/N.

Milo felt his heart thud in his chest, a warmth rising through his face at record speed.

Their dark attire and few piercings through their body made him scanned them again. Though not out of disbelief.

They were cute.

Stupidly cute and he found himself unable to breath.

You gave him a weary smile when he didn't say anything but instead stared and studied you. You gripped the doorframe anxiously, afraid that this was another local that had the wrong idea.

"Hello." You greeted.

Milo blinked and shook out of his trance, his cheeks still a bright color of crimson. "Oh gosh, where are my manners." He began and brought out his hand. "My name is Milo! I'm the gym leader here in Turrfield, and I just wanted to greet our newest friends!"

Your expression melted into a warm one. You held out your hand and welcomed the handshake. "My name is Y/N. It's nice to see someone so friendly."

He held out the basket, his hands annoyingly shaky but not in fear. "I also wanted to give you this! It's full of fresh veggies and homemade cheeses from my families farm here. I guarantee that they're full of the good stuff!" He explained and you took in gratefully.

Milo watched you look through the basket, your smile never leaving for a moment. It really was so lovely.

He heard the sound of paws quickly approaching and a Houndoom poked his nose through the side in the door, his tongue out his mouth in happiness.

You laughed at your pokemon's intrusion. "Hades, come on now. I know you smell food and you want to see what it is." You petted the dark type and he barked happily.

Milo inwardly laughed over the comment of how the Houndoom was viscous. He was anything but.

He peered up at your face again. His heart still beating quick.

And you were anything but scary. He was completely and totally smitten.

#milo #milo x reader #pokemon milo x reader

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itsbeaconhillsbaby · 3 years

Text

a luminous love || tom holland x reader

a/n: I feel like I should apologise for the length of this. I was not intending for it to be as long as it’s ended up, but I hope that doesn't put anyone off! there is also a follow up of this planned: the subsequent road-trip. both are definitely stand alone’s but there will be a few casual nods to this fic throughout. i’m thinking of doing a couple shorter blurb style fics as these longer ones take up a bit more time to plan and write. also looking to delve into my angsty side after doing so many slice of life, fluff pieces. let me know what you think, thank you all for reading and being amazing as always! come chat! x

word count: 2556 warnings: alcohol use summary: its the annual summer BBQ extravaganza at the holland household

The patio doors were wide open, folded in on themselves as shimmering golden sunlight enveloped the kitchen. Sunbeams glinted off the mirrors and glass surfaces, rainbows dancing around the open space. Light music was playing from a portable speaker, the birds chirping along to the soothing tones. You could hear voices all talking over one another, loud laughter and a dog barking. From your position in the hallway you could see people sheltering in the shaded kitchen from the sweltering heat that was London on a glorious summer day. Bodies filtered in and out through the large open space, congregating both inside and out. You felt a gentle squeeze of your hand. Taking your eyes off the crowded room and glancing up, you saw tom had rested his bag in the hallway, and was waiting for you to do the same. “You okay?” he asked, as you stepped out of your trance and copied Tom’s actions, “It’s only the family, you’ve met them before - and a couple family friends...” he trailed off. “Oh.No, I’m excited I promise!” you reassured him. Tom grasped your shoulders, spinning you round slightly so you were standing directly in front of him, your bodies touching. His smile widened, pressing a feather light kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.” You leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes quickly as you soaked up the closeness. You picked up the discarded gift bag, lost in amongst the jumble of things you and Tom had brought in for your quick stay at the Holland household. He entwined your fingers together, rubbing the back of your hand slightly with his thumb before jerking his head questioningly, ready to face the onslaught? you nodded, grinning. Pulling him in close beside you, he stretched his entwined hand across the back of your neck and up over your shoulder casually. “You weren’t having a summer Holland BBQ without your favourite, right?!” he bellows, as you both appear in the kitchen entry way. A myriad of eyes darted over to the pair of you, everything stilling for a millisecond. Even Tessa dropped her ball. Then the place erupted. “Oh honey!” “Ayy, about time guys.” “Favourite? yeah right!” “Only in your dreams you div.” “Oh look who he brought!! Thank god, I needed someone to talk about...” “My favourite non-Holland!” The cacophony of voices echoed around the room, people whooping and hollering before finishing their previous conversations. With another light squeeze, you feel the weight of Tom’s arm disappear from around you. His fingers ghosted across your back before he was hugging his brothers, pulling out high fives and fist bumps. You found yourself immediately enveloped into a perfume filled, soft hug, Nikki running a hand through your hair complimenting the slightly lighter colouring, “- I’m so glad you could both make it! I was worried you’d miss out what with your trip but it looks like we were just in time.” You were heading on a road-trip up to Scotland to visit your family since Tom had some proper free time off work, him wanting to drive and explore some pretty hidden routes with you. You’d decided to stop off for a night at his family’s house before heading off the next again morning. “We wouldn’t miss it! Yearly tradition and all, also it’s just a wee thing but please just accept it no questions.” Nikki pulls a face at the gift bag, “You don’t have to do that, you’re family - no need for gifts!” You can feel yourself falling into a grin at the comment before thanking her for letting you stay the night and for the amazing spread. You hear the pitter patter of tiny feet on the tiled floor, before your four-legged friend jumped up on her hind legs, tail thumping the ground and front legs pawing at yours. “Oh hi baby, hi Tess!” you coo softly, kneeling on one knee to stretch behind her ear and rub her belly as she continued to hop on her back legs, her tongue sticking out to lick your face. Her ears suddenly pricked at a whistle, and both your heads turned as she noticed Tom - immediately forgetting about you and bounding over to him. He sticks his tongue out at you menacingly. You rolled your eyes, grinning as you stand back up again. Nikki leading you to a group of people gathered around the island, “Anyway! Let’s get you a drink and introduce you to some friends! Tell us how you’ve been, it’s been so long.” //// You were laughing with the twins, watching Paddy show some of his new football tricks. Tessa was trying to get in on the action, pink tongue hanging out as she ran around you all. You’d already been handed plenty of drink, a table set up in the corner of the kitchen with every kind of spirit laid out for guests to help themselves to. Massive beer crates were stacked next to the fridge, clearly on a rotation. You had met and talked with so many family friends already, before the groups dispersed and you were waved over by some familiar faces. The boys were taking up a whole section of the garden with their games. Far away from the BBQ and food, as directed by Dom. “What do you say to a game of beer pong?” Harry asked you, shaking out some of the curls that were beginning to stick to his forehead in the sweltering sunshine, “Bet a tenner I’ll sink you.” You laugh, smirking, “Alright kids, you’re on!” He groaned, “I hate that nickname, you’re older than us by literally two months!” Paddy acts as referee as you and Sam pair up against Harry and Harrison who were already squabbling about each other’s techniques. As you watched your last shot dive into the cup, bopping about slightly, you cheer loudly. The competition, beer drinking and sun already heating up your cheeks, staining them pink. You hug Sam in celebration and made a beeline to Harrison for a commiseration’s handshake-turned-hug, hearing Harry to have it out with his twin next to you. “Cough up, bro.” You held out your hand upright as Harry begrudgingly slapped the ten pounds into your hand. You all start laughing as Harry downs the last cup, not before sloshing it all down himself. //// You’re lounging in a deckchair, listening to some childhood stories of the boys until you feel a shadow block your sun. “Hey darling, you alright?” He hands you two platefuls of food before pulling up an empty deckchair beside you. “Hey! So good. Warning I’ve definitely had more than my fair share of your gross beer.” You thank him for the food, pressing a soft and quick kiss to his cheek as he chuckled at you. He had already taken to the sun, his face now painted with a sun kissed glow. You take a minute, swallowing slightly as you take him in. The food plates resting on your lap, he lounges back slightly, a bottle of beer in one hand. Tess immediately jumps into his shorts clad lap, his striped linen shirt was unbuttoned and his dog tags shifted as she lay down, panting and eyes softly blinking in the sun, mouth upturned as if she was smiling. “You look good.” You whisper as you pass across his food, trying to avoid Tess’s eager snout as you did so. He quirks an eyebrow, “Oh really?” he laughs, “How many beers have you had exactly?” “Well, I played beer pong with your brothers...” He nods his head in understanding, smirking at the slight wobble in your voice. “Did you win?” “You bet I did!” The hand that was resting on Tess’s back he instead used to high-five you, laughing as he turned his head in search of his brothers. That same hand now resting on your bare thigh comfortably as his leg leant against yours. “Well, if you’ve got another round in you later...we can beat them again?” You agree enthusiastically, knowing that you’d be at a slight disadvantage seeing as the sun and alcohol was already going to your head, but that Tom would carry your team easily. More people gather round the two of you with their plates of food, engaging in conversation about golf, work, filming etc kindly including you in their conversations as you munched on your food, hoping it would soak up a little bit of the alcohol. You soon found yourselves back indoors, stomachs nice and full, as you took a break from the sun. Tom was leaning back into the arm of the sofa, wrapping his arm around your back and resting it on the opposite side of you, pulling you super close. He was talking animatedly to the man on his left, one of Dominic’s friends that you’d been introduced to earlier. You were fiddling with Toms tags, lightly dragging them back and forth on their chain as he conversed about his latest job. “I found it!” Nikki announced as she made her way over to the sofa, everyone shifting up as she squeezed in-between you and Harrison’s girlfriend, who you’d been chatting with on the opposite side of the couch. Tom groaned. “Not another one mum! I’m surprised you still have any left to show at this point.” Nikki ignored his objections before pulling open the photo album, and immediately you were taken in by the cute small toddler in a variety of places around the house; in the bath, under the christmas tree, in his high chair with chocolate birthday cake all round his face, outside in the grass on a blanket - giant smile plastered across his little face. Tom had rested his chin on your head, peeking over you. His cold tags making your back flinch slightly at the change in temperature. you cooed and laughed along with her as she took you through the book, telling you stories about her eldest, mischievous son. You could feel the vibrations against you as he laughed at different pictures, his mum leaning across to ruffle his hair. “You two would have the cutest kids, I’m just saying-“ Nikki blurted out. Tom groaned and immediately pulls himself and you up off the couch, “-I’m just saying! Tom!” “Oh, here we go! Mum you’re cut off,” he says laughing, guiding you back out into the sunshine, and past the BBQ, “Dad, mums at it again.” Dom sighs, then laughs before heading inside, “What has got into her!” You stifle a giggle, Tom with a hand on either shoulder his body pressed flush against you as he propelled you through the throng of people gathered round a fire pit, and led you back to the beer pong table. “Please ignore everything my mother just said.” You spin around quickly so you’re chest to chest. Bringing a hand up to cup the back of his neck as you pull him down just slightly, whispering in his ear, “Whilst we’re definitely not ready for kids yet, I’m definitely not against some practice in techniques...are you?” He pulls his head back sharply, golden eyes coming to life in the glittering sun. His entire face breaks out into a smile, “You’re such a tease, move it!”

Spinning you back around, he presses you forward brushing your hair behind your shoulder as he sinks some light kisses into the side of your neck, as you both continue towards the beer pong. You pretend to shove him off, his breath tickling your cheek.

“PDA! PDA! Ew, get a room guys!” Paddy jokes, cupping his hand around his mouth and announcing to the garden. “What are you, twelve?! That’s it Pads!” Tom suddenly bounds away from you, leading to a chase as Paddy runs nimbly around the garden; dodging people, chairs, cups and plates - Tom hot on his heels. You burst out laughing, shaking your head as Tom lifted Paddy, chucking him over his shoulder. You sat yourself down on the dry grass, waiting for the boys to finish their play fighting. As you do, you feel a soft body lean itself against you, tail hitting off your legs. “Hey baby,” you murmur, clapping and stoking Tess as she lay belly up in the sun, “Whose a clever girl?” //// “Here.” You sit up, having been lying on the grass since the latest beer pong match which led to copious amounts of drinking games. You’d questioned if the world would stop spinning if you lay down, a chorus of laughter coming from the boys and their friends. Tom passes you a glass of ice-cold water which you gratefully take, before hunkering down next to you himself, sitting with his knees up and his arms clasped around them. You take a couple sips before balancing your cup in the tufts of grass, he opens up one of his arms and you cuddle into him. “Your brothers suck,” you joke, the water chasing away your light headache. He laughs. “Thank you for pushing our trip back to fit this in,” You rest your head on his shoulder and look out at all the people, still having a great time despite the fact the sun was slowly disappearing below the trees. “Tom. Of course, my folks completely understand. I love your family and you don’t always get the time off to see them. What’s one extra day, hm?” He turns his face to look at you and you lift your head off his shoulder. You had a spattering of pink across your cheekbones and nose, your freckles peeking out. Your hair was falling out of its messy half up-do. yes twinkling as you looked up at him through your lashes. His hand brushed against your hair and the side of your face before he tilted your chin upwards and took your mouth in his, brushing his lips against yours. You smiled into the kiss, letting him press soft clusters of kisses on your nose and cheekbones. You laugh and bring him back to the centre. “I love you,” he announced, taking a breath before kissing you again - you unconsciously reached for the back of his neck to pull yourself in closer. “I love you too.” you sigh, shifting yourself to now lie between Toms’ legs. letting him whisper soothing words into your ears, of all the places you were going to visit on your trip.

“Oi lovebirds,” Harry comes bouncing over to the two of you. Tom leaning back on his elbows as you sit comfortably between his legs, him tightening them around you.

“I took these. Thought you might like them. Who’d of thought? You guys actually look really cute.” You hit his arm, as he dramatically yelps and rubs at the attacked area.

He held out the polaroid’s as Tom balanced on one elbow, shifting his weight to the left as he reached out and took the pictures.

“These are actually sick Haz, thanks bro!” He shifts back, sitting up with your back pressed flush to his stomach as he brought his arms round for you both to look at the small collection of photographs Harry had taken throughout the day.

You smile wide at the joy and love plastered on your faces, a tiny miniature you beaming up at your goofy boyfriend squinting in the sunlight. You feel Tom’s arms wrap around you tighter. breathing each other in, you feel him relax behind you, you trace patterns along his sun kissed skin with your fingers as the sun begins to paint the sky in gorgeous oranges and pinks.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #definitely inspired by the nice weather we've been having #lisa writes

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l0vegl0wsinthedark · 3 years

Text

Sparkle

Here's a little ficlet I wrote based on a random scene that popped into my head and wouldn't leave. Unbeta’ed.

Tags: implied/attempted noncon, alcohol consumption, eighth year fic. Pairing: Draco/Harry

-------

Draco Malfoy came back to Hogwarts after the War.

He was quiet and was nearly always seen in the company of his books. He talked to people, but not unless they addressed him first. He was always in plain sight, and always seemed to be in the middle of the most banal, tedious tasks, and Harry had no reason to be suspicious.

But Harry watched him anyway.

How was he to help it? Malfoy didn't look anything like the Malfoy he was used to warching.

Yes, he was still deathly pale and tall and reed-thin - but he held himself differently now. He didn't swagger around like he owned the school, but still had an air of aristocratic grace about him that made people hurry out of his way.

He didn't wear his hair combed to slick perfection; he had it buzzed down to the scalp on one side, the rest of his sleek, platinum hair pulled over to the other side in an artfully tousled sweep that sometimes fell over his eyes and caught on his long lashes.

He didn't wear his shirt sleeves down to his wrists to hide the Mark. Instead he had them rolled up to his elbows to reveal the pretty little pink and orange blossoms he had tattooed over the ugly, faded skull and snake.

He always had nail paint on - black, green, ruby red, purple.

He wore eyeliner, stark black against the paper-white skin of his translucent eyelids and blond eyelashes.

During the weekends, he wore soft jumpers over crisp white shirts, often in pastel shades that made him appear delicate and almost ethereal.

Draco Malfoy came back to Hogwarts after the War and Harry was obsessed all over again.

It was Christmas in a week. The eighth year common room was in full tumult, the Wireless charmed to blare music loud enough to be heard clearly over the cacophony of dozens of chattering students. Decorated extravagantly by the elves, two tables groaning under food and drink (spiked with an indecent amount of alcohol), and housing every eighth year, over half of the seventh years and a few bold sixth years, the room threatened to burst at the seams.

Harry was pleasantly tipsy, which was very mild compared to the state of some of his classmates. At least he wasn't trying to climb up into the mantel to attempt to jump off of it and land on an overstuffed armchair that was twelve feet away.

He really had to pee, though, and both the toilets attached to the common room were occupied, and when he went up to the dorm bathrooms, he found those occupied too - as well as issuing sounds made by the students inside engaged in various kinds of 'activities'.

Bladder uncomfortably full, Harry jogged back down to the common room and, with a wave at Ron and Hermione, exited the party so he could use one of the school loos. His mind was buzzing very softly and he wasn't worried about homework or, you know, dying, for the first time in a while.

Sighing in relief after having taken a long piss, Harry strolled slowly back towards the common room. It was well past midnight and he knew the seventh and sixth years would be in trouble if caught at the party. He also knew that every teacher was likely aware and chose to let it go. It'd been that way this term after the War.

He was about to pause and take a moment to admire the snow covered grounds and Forest out the nearest window when he heard a sound from the classroom in front of him. There was a soft thud and a garbled human voice.

Frowning, he crossed the corridor and halted outside the classroom, hesitant to walk in on students who likely didn't want to be disturbed. But then he heard, clearly:

"Stop. No."

"Incarcerous."

"No, no, no, I don't want--"

But Harry had already drawn his wand and kicked open the door.

He vaguely recognised the seventh year, tall and slightly plump with a mop of sandy blond hair. He was struggling to contain the thrashing student he had bent over a desk and looked around with a jump, panting softly, when Harry burst in.

"What the f--?" the seventh year began.

"Get out," barked Harry, indicating to the door pointedly with his wand.

The seventh year stepped away and the student he'd been pinning fell to the floor with a thump, his wrists bound at the small of his back, his ankles tied together with the same gleaming, silvery rope. And then Harry started in shock, because-

"Please," panted Malfoy, writhing on the floor as he tried to free himself.

"Go," Harry said in a low, dangerous voice to the seventh year, and there must have been something in his voice or face because the student quite literally pelted out of the room. Harry heard him running all the way down the corridor.

Harry walked forward slowly. "Malfoy?"

Malfoy thrashed again, out of breath and emitting little sounds of desperation. "Pl-- Just let me go!"

Harry quickly bent down and undid the ropes with a wave of his wand. Then he helped Malfoy sit up and lean back against the desk, still panting.

His face was clammy and his eyes bloodshot, eyeliner smudged, his face abnormally pale, likely with fear.

He was also clearly very, very drunk.

Harry suddenly remembered seeing him at the party earlier, flitting back and forth to and from the table of refreshments. And then he'd disappeared altogether.

Apparently, not with his consent.

"You okay?" Harry asked, hesitantly placing a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.

"I don't want to!" Malfoy declared, jerking off his hand.

Harry immediately held both hands up and away. "Okay, absolutely, yes," he babbled. "I'm not gonna-- nobody's gonna..." He didn't know what to say so he left it unsaid.

Malfoy just sat there, still panting quietly, eyes unfocused and rolling around a bit.

"Do... Do you need to be sick? Do you...need to use the bathroom?" Harry asked after long stretch of silence. Malfoy shook his head, hair flopping into his face. There was some colour in his cheeks now, and when he reached up to messily tuck his hair behind his ear, Harry noticed he was wearing sparkly blue nail polish.

"Bed," Malfoy said suddenly, voice hoarse. Harry nodded and stood up. Malfoy looked up at him in bewilderment. "I don't want to," he repeated, slightly plaintively.

The way he looked in that moment, as though pleading for his life, helpless and incapacitated, Harry's chest tightened.

"Nobody is going to touch you," he promised in a low, steady voice. "I'm just going to see you up to your dorm room. Do you need help standing up or are you good?"

Malfoy looked up at him blankly and then looked away with a sigh, uncrossing his legs and making to stand up. "I need help," he mumbled after a beat.

Harry helped him up and then immediately stepped away. "Come on," he said softly, indicating to the door. "This way."

Despite having gone to bed only well after 3am after the party, Harry was up by 8. He found Ron awake with Hermione and the three of them went on a walk after breakfast. In the afternoon, Seamus invited them to a snowball fight with the others. After he'd changed out of his sopping clothes later, Harry found himself entrusted with the task of going down to the kitchens to bring up snacks for everybody.

One flight of stairs away from the Entrance Hall, Harry was stopped by a soft voice addressing him.

"Potter."

Harry turned. Sat on the nearest windowsill was Draco Malfoy.

Harry, for some reason, felt his face heat, and absurdly found himself worrying that Malfoy knew that Harry had spent all day thinking of him.

"Hey," Harry replied, nodding. "Alright?"

Malfoy nodded back, expression neutral. Suddenly, Harry wondered if Malfoy even remembered the events of the previous night.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked softly, and there was nothing threatening or malicious about the way he spoke.

"Down to the kitchen to nick food," Harry replied honestly, shoving his hands in his pockets. And then, after a moment of hesitation, "How are you...you know, how're you feeling?"

"I feel fine," said Malfoy, a small line appearing between his brows. "Any reason I wouldn't?"

Yeah, he doesn't remember, Harry decided. Then he wondered why he's talking to Harry at all.

"No," Harry said, mouth curving into a crooked smile. "Well, I guess I'd better-" He indicated to the stairs with his head.

Malfoy nodded and said nothing.

Harry was halfway down the stairs when, "Potter."

Harry turned. Malfoy stood at the top of the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"I-- I just--" Malfoy was very pink in the face. Harry thought him very pretty at that moment. "I'm really grateful for your help last night," Malfoy blurted.

Now Harry went pink. Oh, so you remember, he wants to shout hysterically.

"It was no problem, Malfoy," he said instead. "I'm glad I was there to help." Malfoy just looked blankly at him. "Hermione's always going on about consent," Harry blabbers suddenly. "And you know... You weren't... You didn't...consent."

Malfoy nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his baby blue jumper. "Well, thank you," he said after a few seconds of silently nodding.

"You're welcome."

They stared at one another. Harry was aware of the seconds stretching on and on but he couldn't look away from Malfoy's artfully styled hair and rosy cheeks and sparkly nails and carefully lined eyes.

Then with an awkward and atrociously stupid wave, Harry turned away.

"D'you want to go to Hogsmeade with me later?"

Harry turned, almost slipping off the step and tumbling down the stairs.

"What?" he spluttered at Malfoy who was now scarlet in the face.

"I... I asked if you--" Then Malfoy abruptly seemed to deflate. "Never mind, Potter. Sorry. And thanks again for last night."

Malfoy disappeared around the banister and Harry heard him climbing the stairs while he himself just stood there.

Then, as though jerked into motion by an electric shock, Harry flew back up the stairs.

"Malfoy!" he gasped as he rounded the banister. Malfoy turned, looking surprised. "I-- I'd love to," Harry said, sounding a bit winded.

"What?" Malfoy asked, tilting his head, glossy hair sliding over his eyes.

"Go to Hogsmeade with you," Harry explained. "I'll-- I'd love to go."

Malfoy went brick red but he smiled as he did so, a small, shy smile that made Harry's heart skip a beat.

"Okay," Malfoy nodded, "Six? I'll meet you in the common room," he added, pointing up the stairs with one finger.

Harry grinned. "Cool."

Malfoy grinned back. And then, just as Harry was about to go back down, "Hey, Potter?"

Harry looked back up. "Yeah?"

Malfoy, still scarlet in the face, seemed to be making a physical effort to gather courage. "You... You have my consent."

Speechless and almost faint, Harry just watched him hurry away. Consent for what, he wanted to bellow after him.

Then he decided he'd rather let Malfoy show him what later.

***

#tw noncon #harry being a saviour as always #soft draco #drarry #my writing

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isletakebarzal · 3 years

Text

I Hope I Never Lose You | 1 | Mat Barzal

a/n: my first mat barzal fic. my first fic since......... sh*wn m*nd*s. Here is the first installment of a new elementary school au. pLz leave feedback it has been so long since i've written and I am so ✨insecure✨

summary: you teach kindergarten and Mat Barzal is a P.E. Coach at Cornelia Street Elementary School. i don't know just give me validation plz

warnings: literally didn't even read it over. just copy-paste-post. mutual pining idiots to lovers?? some jealousy and angst???

WC: 5.6K

***

I. “then on a Wednesday in a cafe[teria], I watched it begin again”

You take a deep breath as you inspect your appearance in the teacher’s lounge bathroom at Cornelia Street Elementary. Your kindergarteners will be arriving at your classroom in nearly twenty minutes, so you wanted to get one final look in before starting the school day.

“Who’s the guy?” your friend and co-teacher, Molly, startles you as her figure appears behind you in the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You shake your head, sticking your hands under the sink for the automatic faucet to turn on.

Molly laughs, walking up next to you and leaning up against the counter, “You’re dressing up for someone! You never wore high heels until recently, and you check yourself in the mirror like 6 times a day. Who is it?”

You roll your eyes, pulling paper towels out of the dispenser and wiping your hands dry. “Sniff too much elmer’s glue again, Molly?”

You leave the restroom and lounge with Molly trailing closely behind. Turning into your classroom, you stop in the doorway when you find someone standing in the middle of your classroom, causing Molly to bump into your back.

“There you are!” Mat exclaims when he notices you and Molly enter the room. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, 10 minutes. Why do girls take so long in the bathroom together?”

You let out a nervous laugh. Molly stands at your side, glancing from Mat to you and back to Mat. You can tell she’s connecting the dots as the left corner of her smirk.

“Where else would we gossip about you?” Molly teases, snapping your attention away from Mat. You elbow her in her side, whispering her name scoldingly.

Mat rolls his eyes playfully, “Aww, Molls. Writing our initials in a heart on the bathroom wall again?”

You freeze at his comeback. Is he flirting with Molly? You try your best to remain calm. He’s Mat Barzal, he flirts with everyone.

“What are you doing in here anyway, Barzy?” Molly asks as she further enters the room, setting her briefcase on the desk and leaning up against it. She eyes you, as you haven’t taken one step further into the room. “Don’t you have a PE class to teach?”

Mat stiffens at the question, looking from Molly to you. He fumbles to start his response, “I, uh--” he looks to his immediate left and right, searching for an answer. “I needed a pen.”

Molly barks out a laugh, “a pen?” She turns to you, raising her eyebrows with a pointed look. “Did you hear that, Y/n? He needs a pen.”

You don’t respond to Molly, your body moving on autopilot towards your desk. “Here, I have a pen you can borrow!” You grab the first pen you get your hands on from the container on your desk and hold it out to him, trying your best to keep your hand steady.

Mat’s cheeks grow a rosy tint that matches your own. With a smile he takes the pen, finally looking it over. “Are you sure you won’t miss this one?” The smirk returns to his lips.

You furrow your brows, looking down to the pen he’s holding. It’s a purple glitter pen--your favorite pen. You shrug your shoulders, playing it off as no big deal, “Yeah, no worries. Keep it as long as you need.”

You spare a glance at Molly across the room, and you can tell she’s trying her very hardest not to laugh. The daggers you shoot at her with your eyes fail to get her to control her face.

“Thanks, Y/n, I appreciate it,” he says sweetly, giving you his million-dollar smile that makes all the lunch ladies swoon. “I’ll see you at Lunch Duty?”

You nod enthusiastically, “Totally. See you then.”

Mat stalls for a few seconds, shifting back and forth on his two feet before lifting the pen in another silent thank you. You try not to blush as you give a small wave goodbye, and he leaves the room.

Molly finally blows, erupting into laughter. You turn your attention towards her, a confused expression on your face. “What?”

“I guess that answers my question!” Molly exclaims, wiping an escape tear of laughter from her cheek.

You shake your head, placing your hands on your hips, “What question?”

“Which guy you’re dressing up for,” Molly explains as if it’s clear as day. “Seems to me like you’ve both got it bad.”

You blush again--probably for the 50th time in the last 10 minutes. “That’s it,” you huff. “No more glue for you.”

When 12:30 rolls around, Molly takes your class of kindergarteners to the Music Room while you head to the cafeteria for Lunch Duty. There’s nothing glamorous about watching elementary schoolers struggle to open their zebra cakes and milk cartons, but, for some reason, it’s your favorite time of day.

“Miss Y/n!” A voice cheerily calls out to you as you enter the cafeteria, and your gaze instantly lands on the source. That voice could pull you out of a coma. You could pick out that voice in a filled stadium of a Nickelback concert.

Mat waves at you from across the room, pulling out the chair next to him as if to tell you to come sit. You smile and wave back, making your way to him with your lunchbag in hand. It’s your Wednesday ritual to have lunch together, since it’s the only day of the week you are scheduled for Lunch Duty at the same time.

You sit gracefully in the chair next to Mat and set your bag on the table. Mat instantly reaches for it, spinning it one way then another as he searches for the zipper. You grab the lunch bag from his hands and pull it back to your side of the table.

“Excuse you!” You exclaim, playfully.

“Come on, Y/n, I’ve been waiting a week for this!” Mat whines, no better than one of your kindergarteners.

You peek into your bag making sure you have his treat, “Okay, okay.” You reach into the bag and close your fist around the circular fruit that you made sure to pack in your lunch--just like you do every Wednesday.

Mat shoves his hand in the big pocket of his backpack, then looks at you with an eager smile. “Ready? 1...2…” You both bring your hands out of your bags on 3, holding out the respective items for each other.

In the palm of your hand is a Cutie brand clementine, sticker already peeled off. You never really understood why Mat loves these so much, or why he never just buys them for himself, but you’ve been swapping lunch treats since the beginning of the school year.

You were sitting at the lunch table that was angled perpendicular to the student tables in the cafeteria. It was your first Lunch Duty of the year, so you made sure to get in the cafeteria before any of the students came in.

Now that you and Molly were co-teaching this year, you wouldn’t be on Lunch Duty together like you were last year. You didn’t think you should be nervous, being that it’s just Lunch Duty and you already had a year of teaching under your belt, but still, not having the comfort of your best friend around you made you a little more on edge.

No one told you who was going to be on duty with you, so when the new gym P.E. coach, Mat Barzal, strolled into the cafeteria, you stiffened in your seat. You noticed him a bit last year, but it was your first year with your own class of students, and you wanted to focus on being a good teacher rather than good-looking coaches. Mat was new to the school, too, but he seemed to be quick to make friends, talking to anyone around him. Like, anyone.

Like, even a first grader with a hockey AND a superhero obsession that wanted to know which NHL team each superhero would play for. You had eavesdropped on his answers while you were standing near them in the hallway.

(You remember this, because you had to hold yourself back from interjecting when he told the student that Superman would play for the Islanders. He would obviously be a Ranger.)

When he walked into the cafeteria that day, he strolled over to you and sat right down in the chair next to yours, jumping into conversation. You were munching on carrots when you realized that he had yet to pull out any food for lunch.

“Are you hungry?” you blurted out, interrupting whatever thought he was rambling on about while you were...you wouldn’t say staring...more like analyzing.

He deadpanned, “Yeah, but I’ve got some snacks back in the gym. I’m just going to eat them later.”

You shook your head, finding his answer unacceptable. “Here,” you said, looking into your lunch bag for anything to give him. “Do you like clementines?”

A smile spread on Mat’s face, “My mom used to buy them for me and my sister when we were kids. I haven’t had one in forever.”

You handed the fruit to him before he could protest. He accepted it graciously. “I’m Mat, by the way.”

“Y/n,” you told him.

The next week, you made sure to pack a clementine in your bag just in case he didn’t have a lunch again. You tried to hide the disappointment when you walked towards the table and saw that he didn’t actually forget this time.

That is, until you noticed the silver wrapper of a Fruit Roll-Up on the table in front of the empty chair.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked, or if you even like these, but, like, everyone likes these,” Mat explained and you couldn’t hide your blush.

After sitting down next to him, you reached into your bag and pulled out the clementine, sliding it across the tabletop to him. Week after week, this unspoken trade agreement continued, neither one of you having forgotten yet.

You take the Fruit Roll-Up from his hand as he swipes the clementine and starts peeling.

“Oh, it’s the tongue-tattoo one!” You cheer, unrolling the fruit leather from the plastic film. Mat nods enthusiastically, but doesn’t speak, his mouth already full with slices of clementine.

You tear the fruit roll up in half and hold the half with the skull “tattoo” to him.

“No, Y/n, this is our trade. It’s yours,” he pushes your hand back, but you roll your eyes.

“I don’t need the whole roll, and the skull would suit you better,” you persuade him. “Just take it.”

With a smile, Mat takes the half and holds it to the light to find the skull printed in food dye. You hold up your half to tilt the crown “tattoo” to the right angle.

“Okay, ready?” You ask, and Mat nods. “One...two…”

On three, you press the sugary roll to your tongues and hold for a few seconds, making sure it’s long enough for the dye to transfer. You and Mat have done this enough times to know that the sweet spot is around 7 seconds.

Now facing each other in your chairs, you each stick out your tongues to show the other your tattoos. Mat lets out a loud laugh, and can’t help but mirror his reaction. You love this with Mat--getting to goof around with someone and finally laughing again.

Your last relationship ended nearly a year ago, and it left you devastated. You had dated Ryan all through college, and you thought he was going to propose after graduation. Little did you know, he had been applying to medical schools in London, rather than where you were in Seattle. He was never planning forever with you like you were with him.

Needless to say, it’s made you hesitant to start dating again. You don’t trust your instincts with reading people and you definitely don’t trust men.

“Here,” Mat hands his half back to you.

You squish your nose up at him, “Ew, your spit is all over it!”

Mat rolls his eyes playfully and holds the rollup even closer to your face, making you laugh. You try to bat his hand away, but he catches your hand with his free one instead.

“Oh please, it’s just a little slobber. Same as kissing!” He jokes, but the way he’s holding your hand and so easily talking about kissing makes you tense up. You feel like you’re 16 again, developing your very first school-girl crush with the way he’s stirring up dormant butterflies.

You look away, hoping to conceal your now very rosy cheeks, and Mat, thankfully, pretends not to notice. “Fine, mine now,” he shoves the whole rollup in his mouth, and your laughter breaks up the tension in your chest. You fall into easy conversation filled with laughter and banter, and it’s like the room full of rambunctious elementary schoolers doesn’t even exist.

II. “don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw [kickballs] at things that shine”

“Life just makes love look hard, Y/n,” Molly tells you. You came into school this morning looking down bad, and Molly was quick to figure out the root of the issue.

You saw Ryan last night. With a girl. Wearing a ring on her finger. You knew exactly what ring it was too, as his grandmother had showed it to you at Christmas one year and explained that it would be Ryan’s to give to the one he wanted to spend forever with. At the time you could’ve bet your life that his “one” was you.

You mope in your desk chair, “I know. It took him less than a year to meet someone new, fall in love, and commit. Love isn’t hard, but maybe I’m just hard to love.”

Molly gives you a sad look and opens her mouth to respond, but she is cut off by your classroom door opening. Your already glum face contorts into a sour expression when you see who has entered your classroom.

Alexa.

You spare a glance at Molly, who is already glaring at the 4th grade teacher. You try to hold back the chuckle that is bubbling in your throat. Alexa started working at Cornelia Street Elementary at the same time as you and Molly, but unlike you and your co-teacher, you were not fast friends.

Maybe it was her snarky attitude, or the way she told you and Molly to your faces that “kindergarten teachers are glorified babysitters” on the first day you met her. Either way, you and Molly were not fans.

“Hello, ladies!” Alexa screeches in a high-pitched voice.

Molly deadpans, “Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

Alexa’s nose scrunches in distaste, “I don’t want anything, Molls. I’m here to see if you both have signed up for the teacher-student kickball game next Friday.”

Molly winces at the use of her nickname, “Yes, Alexa. If you had just looked at the sign-up Google Sheet, you would’ve seen that both mine and Y/n’s names were already on the list.”

Alexa shrugs, brushing off Molly’s aggressive tone, “Well, good. I hear that Coach Barzal and Coach Beau will be team captains this year.”

Your body has a visceral reaction to hearing ‘Coach Barzal’, like your ears are rejecting the sound of her witch voice speaking his name. Molly flips her gaze in your direction, giving a smirk.

“Yes, Mat told Y/n the other day that he is going to be a team captain,” Molly lies between her teeth. He never told you that, but if there’s one thing Molly knows, it’s how to get under Alexa’s skin.

And she does. Alexa’s face pinches before clearing her throat, “It’s a shame none of us can have him, isn’t it?”

You and Molly mirror each other with confused expressions. “What do you mean?” you question.

“I mean, section 34.12B in the School Handbook,” Alexa replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Molly rolls her eyes, “And what is section 34.12B in the School Handbook?”

Alexa’s lips curl smugly, “Section 34 is the Teacher Code of Conduct, silly. And rule 12B clearly states that teachers working in the same school are not allowed to intermingle romantically or, well, otherwise. Any infraction will result in one of the teachers being immediately transferred to another school in the county.”

Your stomach drops, and Molly looks at you with a sorrowful expression.

“Didn’t either of you read the handbook when you started?” Alexa asks condescendingly. In truth, neither you nor Molly read that brick of a handbook. If you remember correctly, you think you ended up using it as a doorstop in your old classroom last year. No clue what happened to it after that.

“Of course we read it,” Molly, again, lies. “We’re just not psycho enough to have it memorized.”

Alexa glares at Molly. “I didn’t memorize it. I just recently refreshed my memory after talking to Coach Barzal the other day. He had asked me to get drinks with him, so I wanted to see what the policy was on dating colleagues.”

You whip your head to Molly, a confused expression on your face. Molly takes your reaction in stride and stands from her seat at her desk.

“This has been so fun, Alexa,” Molly walks towards the 4th grade teacher at the classroom door, who takes the hint and starts backing up. “But we have to prepare for a day of babysitting, so if you don’t mind…”

Molly backs Alexa out of the doorway and shuts the door in her face. She leans back on the door to find you sitting with a sad puppy look on your face.

“I’m sure she was bullshitting like she always does,” Molly tells you.

You sigh and slump into your chair. An airy chuckle escapes Molly’s lips and you flick your eyes to her face, wondering what could possibly be funny.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

Molly shakes her head, muffling more laughs.

“Come on, spit it out.”

“It’s nothing,” Molly starts, a smile growing on her lips. “I just fucking knew it.”

You furrow your brows, “Knew what?”

“Knew you had a thing for Coach Barzal.”

You really don’t want to play kickball, if you’re being honest. You always hated gym class growing up, because you weren’t necessarily skilled in hand-eye coordination. The only reason you signed up for this student-teacher kickball game for the upper grades was for Molly. And...someone else.

Mat and his co-coach, Tito, are standing in the middle of the gym giving instructions to the 4th and 5th grade classes. The rules are simple: kick, run, and no cheap shots. You’re not sure if 4th graders were capable of taking cheap shots, but you realize that this rule might not be directed at them. If you’ve learned anything over the last year or so of teaching, it’s that adults are just really big Big Kids.

Once they finish explaining to the students and teachers how the game will work, Mat announces that it’s time to pick teams. The students are counted off by twos for their teams to make sure no kid feels like they’re being picked last--especially by the teacher--but the teachers are to be specifically chosen by the captains.

Tito, the captain of the A team, scans the crowd of teachers for his first pick. “Mr. Kessler,” Tito picks the 3rd grade teacher first. It’s a great first pick, since David Kessler apparently played sports in college.

Mat looks at the group like he’s searching for someone, and his eyes land on you. The right corner of his lips pulls up into a smirk. Your palms start sweating--either due to the nerves of feeling like you’re back in grade school again, or from the way he is looking at you.

“Mr. Peterson,” Mat’s gaze leaves yours as he picks the 5th grade parapro. Again, you don’t think it’s a bad idea to start setting up the team with the best players before moving on to, well, you.

The two coaches go back and forth until all of the seemingly more athletic teachers are assigned teams. When it’s time for Tito to pick again, his eyes land directly on you. You look to your left, then to your right, then behind you, just to make sure he wasn’t looking through you to someone else. But no one else looked like they were paying enough attention to be the one he was focusing on.

A smirk draws up Tito’s lips as he looks at Mat. Mat rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder, making Tito teeter a bit. “Just pick, man,” Mat urges, and Tito looks back at you.

“Molly,” Tito chooses, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Molly lets out an airy laugh and nudges you with her elbow, “Damn, they’re splitting us up.”

You roll your eyes, but on the inside your stomach flutters at the thought of being chosen by Mat. He glances your way every so often that you think it might be coming, but you try to keep your cool.

“Umm,” Mat starts, like he’s about to think out loud. “I’ll pick…” Mat’s eyes scan the group and he stops on you for a brief moment, but passes you over. “Alexa.”

Your heart drops into your ass.

You look to Molly, hoping that her usual cool and collected demeanor will level you, but she’s speaking lowly to Tito with furrowed brows.

“Y/n, you’re on my team,” Tito calls out next. You make your way towards the rest of the A team, and, despite the voice in your head screaming ‘don’t look at him, don’t look at him’...you look at Mat, gauging his reaction.

He looks completely unbothered. A smile is even gracing his face. It’s not like you thought he was necessarily interested in you, but, fuck, you at least thought he liked you better than Alexa. And now you’re wondering if there was any truth to her comments in your classroom last week.

Once the teams are sorted out, the captains flip a coin to decide who will kick first. Tito calls heads while the coin is in the air, and sure enough the coin lands on heads. Tito calls a huddle while Mat gets his team organized into positions.

“Alright team, listen up,” he starts, clapping his hands once. “We need a strong offensive start.”

The students jump around excitedly as Tito lines them up along the gym wall behind the designated “home plate”. He orders the team with one teacher kicking after every few students.

Molly is in the front of the line with Thomas, an eager 4th grader ready to play. He walks to the plate, backs up a few steps, and waits for Mat to pitch the ball. Mat winds up before releasing the ball in a (relatively) straight line to Thomas.

Thomas runs up to the ball, going for the kick, and….he misses. Tito jogs up to him, squatting to his level. “It’s okay, bud, let’s try again. You can do it, just keep your eye on the ball.”

The little boy nods and steps back up to the plate. Tito nods at Mat who winds up and rolls the ball once more. A little more cautiously this time, Thomas runs for the ball. He swings back his left foot and propels it forward, making contact with the ball and sending it soaring towards Mat.

Mat lets the ball drop in front of him, fumbling around to pick it up while Thomas runs to first base. Once he’s about halfway there, Mat tosses the ball to one of the fifth graders who is guarding the base. Thomas, unsurprisingly, is safe.

A few more students and teachers take turns kicking the ball, and before you know it, there are two students and Molly on base with two outs on the board. You were hoping that you would be able to linger in the back of the line long enough to avoid taking a turn, but Tito calls you up to the plate.

“Okay, Miss Y/n, bring ‘em home!” Tito encourages, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Doubtful,” you respond. Walking up to the plate, you make eye contact with Mat, waiting for him to roll you the ball. He takes a deep breath and raises his eyebrows to you.

“Ready?” He calls out.

You shake your head, “No, but do I have a choice?”

Mat laughs. ‘You got this!” he tells you, and winds up to roll the ball. Maybe he does it on purpose, but when he rolls the ball, it veers off to the left.

“Come on, Barzy, give her something she can work with!” Tito chirps, as Mat jogs to grab the ball from one of the students that picked it up.

Instead of returning to his makeshift pitcher’s mound, Mat strides towards you, catching you off guard.

“What are you doing, Mat?”

“You looked nervous,” he says. “Thought you could use a better pep talk than Beauvis over there.”

“It’s...elementary school kickball,” you say with a laugh.

Mat rolls his eyes, “This is a very serious game, Y/n. There’s a lot at stake.”

The smirk that forms on his lips sends a ripple down your spine. “Like what? A pizza party?” you joke.

Mat pushes your shoulder playfully, and a shout erupts from the sidelines. You both look to where Tito is standing with his arms raised in question. “Quit messing with my teammate, Barzal!” Tito yells.

Mat waves him off. “Keep your eye on the ball, and I’ll roll it slowly. Kick with the inside of your foot to get more distance, and, for the love of God, take off those dumb sandals.”

You look down at the strappy sandals on your feet. “What? They’re cute and comfortable!“

Mat rests a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. “Cute until you break an ankle. Just trust me and do it, Miss Y/n!”

You roll your eyes and kick your shoes off to the side while Mat backs up to the middle of the gym. You step up to the plate again and Mat winds up his pitch. The ball rolls in a straight line towards you, and you take his advice by kicking the ball from the inside of your foot. It’s a hard kick, too, so the ball soars over towards second base.

“RUN!” Tito yells from the sidelines, urging everyone on base to get moving. The student that was on 3rd base waddles home, scoring a run for your team, while the fielders scramble to get the ball.

There are some mishaps in passing the ball between the 4th and 5th graders in the field, so Molly is able to run home as well as you round first base. You look to Mat to find that he’s yelling at you to run to second, despite being on your opposing team, which coincides with the screams from Tito behind you. Now you're really thankful you took off those sandals.

You take off from first base towards second base, when out of the corner of your eye, you see Alexa grab the ball straight out of a 4th grader’s hands. She winds her arm back and throws the ball right at you, probably as hard as she can by the sting of contact on your left arm.

“Out!” Alexa yells as you slow your pace to a stop. “That’s three!”

The teams start shuffling as they switch from field to kicking and vice versa. You stay in your place, figuring you’ll just linger in the “outfield” anyway, while Molly comes up to you.

“That bitch is a dirty player,” Molly spits, turning to glance at Alexa. “Did you see how she just ripped the ball from a kid? Geez.”

“It’s just the game,” you brush it off, not wanting to seem fazed by how she so obviously was out to get you. You don’t realize Mat walks up to you and Molly until you feel a hand rest on the small of your back.

“Are you okay?” Mat asks, moving his hand to gently brush the red spot on your arm where the ball hit you.

You try not to blush at the contact as you nod and wave him off, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Tough play, but it was a great kick,” Mat tries to be encouraging. “Who knew Lex could hustle like that.”

You wince at the nickname and look at Molly, who is sporting a scowl.

“Lex could’ve knocked a kid unconscious if she had missed,” Molly retorts, and Mat clears his throat awkwardly and removes his arm.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Yeah, I guess she could’ve.” There’s a brief pause and you hear Tito in the background positioning his students on the field. “So, Y/n--”

“Mat--I mean, Coach Barzal!” Alexa’s voice rings through the gym, interrupting Mat. “Come over here!”

“I think you should get back to your team, Mat,” you tell him. “Wouldn’t want to keep your star player waiting.”

He frowns at you, but nods, “Yeah, guess so.”

You didn’t mean to sound jealous--you really have no right to be. You weren’t even sure why you were so affected by the idea of Mat and Alexa. It’s not like there is a Mat and Y/n.

Well, maybe you do know why. You watch as Mat jogs over to his team, giving each kid a high five and circling them up for a pep talk. You can hear their laughs and cheers at his words of encouragement, and you smile involuntarily. He is so good with the kids and he really cares about them--you can tell that he puts his heart into what he does.

“Ready, team?” Tito’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. The rest of your team cheers in response and Tito starts the next inning.

The rest of the game flies by with excitement. You all only make it a few more innings before it’s time for the kickball game to end and everyone to finish out their Friday school day. Tito was overjoyed, to put it lightly, when his A Team won the game, and you could tell he was already taunting Mat with it. Mat, though extremely competitive throughout the game, was a good sport about it in front of his B Team.

Since your and Molly’s class would still be in their Music Class for another 10 minutes or so, you two stayed back in the gym while the 4th and 5th grade teachers got their students together.

“Well, ladies, it was a good game,” Tito says to you and Molly, giving you both high fives. “Sorry you got blitzed, Y/n.”

You let out a laugh, “Thanks Beau, but it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Tito rubs his hand on the back of his neck, “I don’t know. Alexa went for blood with that hit.”

Molly scoffs, “Alexa is going to taste blood next time she pulls something like that.” You bump Molly with your hip, giving her a pointed look, but Tito just laughs at her comment and falls into conversation with Molly.

You eye the way Molly reacts to making Tito laugh, a wave of something resembling pride or satisfaction washing over her. You haven’t seen her look...giddy like this until watching her talk to Tito. Interesting, you think.

After a few minutes, you decide it’s time to pick up your kids from the Music Room, and you tell Molly she can just catch up with you in the classroom in a bit. You make sure to give her a suggestive smirk, glancing back and forth from her to Tito without him picking up on it. She rolls her eyes and waves her hand at you, gesturing to you to exit.

As you’re walking out of the gym, though, Mat calls out to you, jogging towards you before you can leave.

“Y/n! Wait up a second!”

You turn towards him as he slows down in front of you. “What’s up?”

“Um, where are you headed off to?” He asks, almost like he is stalling.

You furrow your brows, but respond, “Gotta pick up our class from Music.”

Mat nods, “Oh, yeah, for sure. Shouldn’t Molls be with you?”

You glance back at your friend, where she is laughing and twirling a strand of her hair while talking to the young coach. “Nah, I can handle it this time. She’s...preoccupied.”

Mat follows your gaze and lets out a snort, “Tito is so hopeless. He’s been gone for her for so long now.”

“Oh yeah?” You question, thinking maybe this could be a chance to set Molly up with a nice guy. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Molly, it’s that she usually has terrible taste in men. “How do you know? Has he said something?”

Mat shakes his head, “No, but he doesn’t have to. I mean, guys are so much easier to read than girls. Like, if a guy is interested in a girl? You’ll definitely be able to tell.”

You have to keep your shoulders from slumping. You think back to all the times you’ve interacted with Mat, and you can’t recall one instance of Mat acting the way Tito is with Molly right now.

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking back at the pair. “I guess you’re right.”

OKKKKKKK SOOOOOOOOOOO TELL ME WHAT U THINK HELLO PLZ FEED ME BACK FEEDBACK LOOP FEED ME WHAT DO WE THINK?????????????????????????????????????

#mat barzal #mat barzal fic #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal

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tendouluvr · 3 years

Text

hq!! boys taking care of their s/o who just got their wisdom teeth out - gn reader

- characters: iwaizumi, osamu, matsukawa, kyōtani

- warnings: small mentions of being on anesthesia, centered around wisdom teeth removal/oral surgery, wisdom recovery, vague mentions of blood/gauze/medications nothing graphic tho, a lot of talk about food and eating limitations

- wc: 198, 258, 241, 252

a/n: im writing as im currently recovering from my wisdom teeth removal 😪😪 so kinda (basically) v self-indulgent

this is all based on my own experience. i’m healing pretty fast i think and there hasn’t been any problems for me so i wouldn’t know, personally, cases where people get heavy nausea, dry sockets, etc etc

IWAIZUMI

#! the best :(((

#! follows every direction the surgeon gave to the dot

#! before the surgery, he was given some papers and it was covered with post-surgery aftercare instructions and he read everything over multiple times

#! doesn’t let you do anything for days even though you were capable of doing things yourself by the third day

#! makes a lot of smoothies

#! he already drinks smoothies a lot on a regular basis besides his protein shakes and all that so being his s/o, you also get to drink them every other day

#! but your smoothie intake goes ☝️

#! understands your pain, makes sure you’re taking all of your required medications on time (he sets up alarms and timers) and giving you any doses of pain relievers as needed

#! (was about to blend up meals for you but you were adamant on him not doing that. you did not want to eat blended liquified food when it’s usually meant to be eaten solid)

#! overall,, kinda strict but he’s just tryna make sure you fully recover properly with no complications :)) you’ll probably be annoyed with him at some point for feeding you another smoothie, but you’re grateful for him anyway <3333

OSAMU

#! he’s a foodie :’(

#! lowk (highkey) sad you won’t be able to eat normally with him until you’re fully healed (could be weeks, could be up to a month and a half)

#! did a lot of research before and during the recovery process to go grocery shopping so he knows what he should stock up on and what he shouldn’t get

#! was kinda convinced four (4) days into recovery that you could start eating a bit normal again but you had to tell him no

#! “so when can you eat my onigiris again? it’s getting boring when only i’m trying new recipes, and you can’t,” he would constantly huff

#! “go feed your brother,” you would reply with an eye roll making him pout

#! your bottle of salt water is always filled because he makes sure it never runs out

#! his search history (and yours) is full of “can i eat ___ after wisdom teeth removal” LMAO mine is

#! to be honest, he was probably more scared of the surgery than you were

#! throughout the healing process, you grew a lot of cravings for a lot of food you couldn’t eat so he would write down everything whenever you tell him while laying in bed together

#! promises to make you all of the food on the list once you can properly eat again :’))

#! will spoil you rotten after this

you have no idea how bad i want focaccia bread rn. i need it. in my mouth. just imagine warm, crispy, chewy fresh out of the oven focaccia bread 💭💭💭

MATSUKAWA

#! does not care.

#! JK

#! he does care but he’ll act like he doesn’t

#! immediately laughs at you passed out on anesthesia in the passenger seat as he’s driving home

#! he’s still holding your hand though and caressing it 🙄

#! literally thought you would’ve been healed the next day for whatever reason ://

#! told you, “you look like a squirrel,” while you were sleeping in bed with gauze in your mouth

#! teases you a lot about the pain cuz he’s a meanie but he does things to take care of you at the same time

#! like reminding you to not drink with a straw because you sometimes forget, or making sure he doesn’t make you laugh/talk too much cuz it really hurts to open your mouth

#! constantly asks you about your extraction sites even though you already told him all you know

#! tempted to squeeze your cheeks because they looked so cute but you were swollen,,,,

#! stacks your pillows up at night so you’re not laying all the way down (he heard it helps with your swelling, something to do with your head being higher than your heart)

#! laughs when you struggle with brushing your teeth (he makes himself so despiseable)

#! kisses your forehead every night and whispers praises before you sleep to let you know you’re doing very well and will recover in no time

I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM GET THIS MAN OUT OF MY SIGHT!

KYŌTANI

#! leaves you to fend for yourself

#! im kidding >< he’s a sweetheart

#! helps you change into your pajamas after he brought you home so you can go to sleep

#! gets all of your meds ready while you were sleeping so you didn’t have to do it yourself after you woke up

#! he holds gauzes out for you while you take out your bloody ones so you didn’t have to stumble around for new ones

#! you lived off of water for a bit because you were afraid to actually eat (you also couldn’t really open your mouth anyway)

#! so when you finally told him you’ll eat now, he makes you whatever you wanted out of your very limited choices

#! he has a tiny grumpy pout while doing everything but it’s just his natural face :( he loves taking care of you, i promise

#! but you don’t really care honestly, you find it adorable

#! he slowly gets irritated as time goes on though because he doesn’t like that you’re going through this and it’s ruining the kisses you would give him from time to time

#! is actually a little childish when it comes to life in general so he gets really pouty at some point with furrowed eyebrows that just keeps getting furrowed-er

#! he grumbles a lot while taking care of you because even after oral surgery you could still find a way to tease him about being a softie

#! threatens to leave you to take care of yourself but he’s all bark

my mom thought i was healed the day after my surgery and kept telling me i’m just being dramatic about not being able to eat a lot of things (and she kept cooking omf) and told me she thinks i’m fine and worried for no reason shdjsjaj i dont think she knew i had stitches in my mouth 😕

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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Text

Daring - Chapter 2

This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.

Masterlist

Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.

CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)

Thyme and Tree Bark

“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”

You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.

Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.

Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.

You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.

-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.

Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.

“Good morning, you animal.”

Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.

“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.

“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”

“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.

“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”

“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”

“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.

“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”

You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.

“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”

Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.

“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”

“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.

“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”

Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.

“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”

“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.

“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”

“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.

Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.

So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.

You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.

“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.

“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”

“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”

You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”

“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.

“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”

“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.

-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.

His reply came immediately.

-Shit. What now?

You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.

-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?

You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.

-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.

You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.

-Nvm, she just texted me.

-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???

-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.

-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!

-Shut up!

Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.

-Tuesday? I could cook for us

-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?

-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?

-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?

You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.

- No problem. 2425 Constance.

There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.

The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.

On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.

Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.

“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.

“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”

“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”

The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.

“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.

“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”

“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”

The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.

“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.

“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”

“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.

“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”

“Go get her!”

You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.

Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.

The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.

When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.

-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual

-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.

-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..

-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.

-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x

-Go get her x

You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.

The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.

During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.

And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.

You knocked.

Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.

“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.

“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”

Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.

“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.

“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.

“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”

You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.

“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.

“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”

You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”

“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.

“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.

“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.

“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft

is it a crime?

“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”

And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.

“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”

Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.

“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”

A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.

“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”

A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.

“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.

“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”

After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.

“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”

“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”

Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.

“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”

She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”

Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.

“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.

“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.

“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”

The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.

“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”

She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.

Never going to know

What fate is going to blow

Your way, just hope that it feels right

Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.

“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”

She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.

“Took the day off.”

You just sighed and went back into the dining room.

Such a fine time as this

“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.

What could equal the bliss

The thrill of the first kiss

You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.

“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”

Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.

“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”

Never as good as the first time

Natural as the way we came to be

“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”

“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.

You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.

“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.

“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”

You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.

“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”

Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.

“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”

“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”

Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”

Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.

How could I have doubted

Honey, it's with me that you belong

“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”

You laughed and squeezed her hand.

“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.

As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.

“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.

“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”

She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.

You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance

You didn't even want me around

And now I'm back / To let you know

I can really shake 'em down

Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.

I can do the twist

Now, tell me baby

Do you like it like this?

You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.

During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.

You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.

Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.

A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.

I need your love

God speed your love to me

You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.

Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.

A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.

The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.

And I love you

Yes I love you

Oh, how I love you

The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.

“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”

You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.

“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”

Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.

“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”

Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.

Holding Back The Years began playing.

“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.

“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.

“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”

“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”

Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.

“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.

“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”

Abby nodded solemnly.

“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”

“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.

“Of course, my lady.”

Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.

“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”

Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.

“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”

“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”

Abby thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.

“You wanna tell me anyway?”

You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.

Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.

“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”

“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby’s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.

“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.

“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.

“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”

Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.

“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”

Abby grimaced.

“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”

You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”

“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.

You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.

As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.

“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.

“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.

“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.

You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.

You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.

“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.

You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.

Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.

-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can

Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.

-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.

You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.

-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go

The reply came in seconds.

-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!

-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(

You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.

“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”

Abby let out a surprised laugh.

“Really, now?”

“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”

You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.

“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.

“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”

“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again

“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”

“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”

You stood up to exit at your station.

“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”

The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.

“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”

“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.

“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”

“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”

Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here

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wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

Text

Pain in my ass

Here you go you horny bastards a second part to this fic.

Atsumu x reader Osamu x Reader

warnings: smut, dirty talk, breeding kink, Daddy kink, cheating??? kinda,

words: 3,100 (about) (at least it’s shorter) summary: Fuck it, Atsumu’s a dick why not find someone who treats you better?

You had gotten pretty close to Osamu in recent months. You’d bonded with him over annoying his brother. You were more than happy to run into the Silver-haired boy in between your classes.

“Morning Osamu, It’s been a while,” you greeted cheerily. He waved back and swallowed the mouth full of food he’d been chewing.

“Morning, and don’t blame me, I’ve been explicitly told I’m not allowed to hang out with you,” he said wrapping his arms around you in a quick friendly hug.

��Really Atusumu told you not to see me?” you asked disbelievingly.

“Yep, he doesn’t want me stealing you away,” you scowled at that.

“And what right does he have to be so possessive? We aren’t even friends let alone dating,”

“He likes you,” Osamu shrugged. That pissed you off

“Not enough to stop sleeping around,” you snapped. Osamu held his hands up in a ‘ don’t be mad at me’ way.

“You know he only does that to make you Jealous, He’d drop every other girl on campus for you,” He insisted. You rolled your eyes as your face heated up with embarrassment. “Seriously, My brother is a dick but he’d never hurt you.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to date him okay? Whether he’d hurt me or not,” you snapped crossing your arms defensively over your chest. Osamu smiled at you and you were struck with how much he looked like his brother. You knew they were twins but still, that smirk was pure Atsumu.

“Lair,” He accused.

“I’m not lying!” you barked stamping your foot childishly.

“Yeah, okay whatever helps you sleep at night, but if you want to give my brother a taste of his own medicine and make him jealous I’ll help,” he offered. Some of your annoyance dissipated.

“Really?” you asked a little bit of eagerness creeping into your voice. Osamu smiled at you.

“Anything to piss Tsumu off.”

You quickly started to regret agreeing to Osamu’s plan. You were alone in the corner of the room while a party raged on around you. You had never been invited to a ton of parties, mostly just tagging along when your roommate, who was way prettier than you, decided to head out to one. Then you’d spend most of the night clinging to her or better yet, making out with Atsumu.

You felt awkward alone by yourself nursing on your drink. You weren’t even getting hit on by drunk frat brothers because they all knew you as Atsumu’s girl. Speaking of Atsumu, he hadn’t even noticed you were here, he was too busy grinding on some stranger. Not exactly great for the ‘he’s doing this to make you jealous’ theory.

“Sorry for the wait,” Osamu said parting from the crowd and slipping an arm around your waist pulling you from your safe corner before you could even say something.

Osamu pulled you into a throng of dancing people holding you close to his chest so you didn’t get lost. His body was so warm it made you flush. He leaned down and whispered in your ear “loosen up, dance a little bit.”

Your heart pounded to the beat of the music and slowly you started moving. You weren’t the best dancer, but looking around the room it seemed like no one was moving with much grace or elegance.

Osamu moved his hands to your hips and pulled you closer moving his body in tandem with yours. Your hands went around his neck loosely holding him as well.

“Forget about Atsumu, that loser doesn’t deserve you, just pay attention to me,” he whispered his breath tickling your ear. You shuddered. Even if you wanted to disobey him you didn’t think you were capable of it. He was magnetic drawing you to him seemingly without trying.

Osamu slipped his thigh between your legs then pushed your hips down basically making you hump his thigh.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, cupping your face and bringing your lips to his. The minute your mouths connected you forgot you were doing this to make Atsumu jealous, his tongue slipped into your mouth touching yours and making your brain short circuit. Your arms tightened around his neck holding him close, not wanting the kiss to end. But the kiss did end, it ended when Atsumu pulled his brother off of you in fact.

“What the fuck ‘Samu?” the blonde snapped shoving his brother in the chest.

“What’s your deal man? What are you jealous that someone else is making a move on your girl- oh wait she isn’t your girl at all,”

Atsumu punched him square in the jaw and they both went to the floor. You didn’t get to see much of the fight a crowd gathered pushing you to the outskirts until you couldn’t see over the shoulders of people. After a few minutes, Atsumu pushed through the crowd and grabbed you by the arm hauling you out of the party. His normally perfect hair was a mess and his nose was bleeding, but he didn’t seem to care.

You tripped over your own feet trying to keep up with him but he just kept pulling you along until you were out of the Sorority house and in the cool night air. He pushed you against the wall of the house hard enough to knock the breath out of you.

He kissed you roughly, not letting you get a chance to catch your breath. Atsumu forced his tongue into your mouth tinging the kiss with the metallic taste of blood. It was a rush to be kissed like this by him. Your hands went to his hair, your fingers getting lost in the messy waves.

Atsumu pulled back and held your cheeks in his hand squeezing your jaw until your mouth popped open. He spat in your mouth his saliva melting on your tongue. “Swallow,” he ordered and you obediently did as he asked. You’d never seen him look so mad before, you were kind of ashamed to admit that seeing him like this turned you on.

Atsumu shoved his hand down your pants and roughly started finger fucking you. He bit your jaw making you cry out before you slapped a hand over your mouth. “Tsumu someone is going to see,” you hissed shoving at his shoulder.

“Good, let them see, I want everyone to see who’s pussy this is,” he snarled his fingers continuing to coat in your wetness as he pumped in and out of you.

“Did Osamu get you this wet? Does he fuck your whore- cunt as well as I do?” he spat.

“N-No,” you whined.

“Oh, so you let him fuck you?”

“NO!” you shouted. He laughed harshly.

“Stop screaming like that someone might think I’m doing something indecent out here,”

He kissed you stuffing his tongue into your mouth gagging you. You were going to cum. You could feel the ball of pleasure welling up in your core. He laughed when you creamed around his fingers.

“Here I thought you were going to be a good girl and wait to cum around daddy’s cock but I forgot you were a stupid fucking whore who can’t help but cum every time someone even looks at your stupid cunny,” He spat whipping his wet fingers off on his jeans. He moved in to kiss you again but you shoved him away, hard enough that he stumbled back, a little stunned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you spat with as much venom as you could muster.

“What you get to run around make out with whoever you want but I can’t?” you snapped

“Not with my fucking brother, especially when you’re just doing it to make me jealous!” he shouted. You flushed at his correct accusation.

“And all those girls you fucked they weren’t trying to get under my skin?”

“Fuck you we aren’t dating remember? You shot me down. What right do you have to get jealous of me?”

“What right do you have to get jealous of me?”

Atsumu froze, and the silence stretched between you.

“Fine, fuck whoever you want, but don’t come crying to me when they can’t get you off. In fact, don’t fucking talk to me again you fucking bitch,” he spat. It stung worse than any other insult he’d thrown your way because this time he really meant it.

You bolted past him to your car pulling out of the parking lot and tearing away from this stupid fucking party. You spent most of that night crying.

You really didn’t want to see either of the Miya twins the next day, but things never really went your way did they? You had been walking with your head down when you literally ran into Osamu.

“Hey-” he said apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked just as bad as his brother. With a black eye and a cut on his jaw that was turning green.

“Sorry about last night, that didn’t go according to plan,” he apologized and you ignored him.

“That looks infected,” you said carefully reaching for his face.

“Yeah. I tried to clean it but it didn’t really work,”

“Clean it with what?”

“...Strawberry margarita?”

“Jesus christ Osamu really?”

“Alcohol is supposed to clean wounds right?” you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Come on I’ll clean it for you, this is kind of my fault anyways,” you said taking his hand in yours leading him back to your dorm.

“But- class?” he protested weakly,

“Class is less important than fixing your fucked up face,” you laughed poking the bruise on his jaw lightly.

Osamu sat on your bed while you leaned down and dabbed at his wound with a cotton ball soaked with hydrogen peroxide.

“That stings,” he whined wincing away from your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you said cupping his cheek with your free hand then holding him in place so you could attack him again. “Sorry, you’re such a baby,”

Osamu and you both laughed. And you finished cleaning out the cut, bandaging it properly. “I really am sorry things didn’t work out with you and Tsumu,” he said, and the good mood dissipated.

“It’s not your fault,” you murmured. Osamu stood from the bed and took your chin in his hand making you look at him.

“He really doesn’t deserve you,” he breathed. Leaning in and kissing you, It gave you the same warm feeling it had the night before. You wanted to pull away and stop him, it was wrong, you were in love with his brother. On the other hand, you could really use some stress relief, and it was clear that your normal hookup wasn’t available.

So you let him kiss you and push you down on the bed. Osamu pulled off your clothes and ran his hands over your naked body. Sitting back on his knees so he could see all of you. It was a little embarrassing to be so openly ogled, Atsmu normally buried his face in your neck when the two of you fucked.

“So pretty,” he said pushing your legs apart and pulled your thighs around his head before he slowly devoured you. He licked you in slow patient laps of his tongue savoring your taste like he was doing this more for his own enjoyment than yours.

“More,” you pleaded softly carding your fingers through his gray hair. Despite your begging, he didn’t speed up or push harder. He kept going at his own pace, building you up slowly until you were dripping wet.

“You taste so good baby,” he purred chewing on your clit. “You gonna cum?” he asked almost lazily.

“Y-yes,” you whined bucking your hips against his mouth desperately.

“So sensitive,” he teased before going back to teasing your cunt with his tongue until you came all over his face.

“Such a pretty mess you made babe look,” Osamu scooped up your head and forced you to look at the damp spot you’d created on the bed.

“Samu it’s embarrassing,” you whined closing your legs.

“Awe are you feeling shy?” he teased kissing behind your ear, his hands going up to your breasts teasing your nipples while he kissed you.

“I wanna fuck you so bad he groaned in your ear, moving your hand to his crotch so you could feel his painfully hard cock.

“Please,” you begged reaching into his pants and pulling out his dick. Osamu pushed you back down crawling behind you spooning you as he pushed into you from behind. He buried his face in the back of your neck as he started moving.

You couldn’t help but moan and rock your hips against his spurring him on to move faster and faster until the slap of skin on skin filled the room.

“Ah fuck Atsumu just like that!” you cried out and just like that he froze. You could feel him go soft in you and you knew your fun was over. You awkwardly disconnected from one another and got dressed again.

“Sorry,” you said avoiding his gaze.

“It’s okay, I knew you weren’t into me the way you were into him,” he shrugged.

“Thanks for patching me up and I really hope you and Tsumu patch things up for his sake and yours,” He said opening your dorm room to leave.

“Thank you, Osamu.”

If you were a mature adult you would have texted Atsumu. Even though he had yelled to never talk to him again but it felt wrong to leave things like that, especially when a week ago he’d sweetly told you he loved you, and you admitted you felt the same. But you were a coward, you’d even started ditching the classes you shared with him so you wouldn’t run into him. You got a pit in your stomach every time you thought about him. still, the guilt wasn’t bad enough for you to actually do anything about it.

So when there was a knock on your door you weren’t expecting it to be Atsumu, after all, he was just as stubborn as you. There was another sharp knock and you groaned.

“I’m coming,” you snapped standing from your desk cracking your back before opening the door, you almost slammed the door in his face seeing who it was

“Atsumu?” you shouted quickly slapping your hand over your mouth. “Atsumu, what are you doing here?” you asked a little quieter this time,

He pushed past you into your room taking your hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted

“I shouldn’t have said what I did, I was drunk and pissed I’m so so sorry,” You couldn’t get a word in edgewise he was talking so fast. Not that you really minded, in fact, it made your heart melt to hear his apology. You never thought in a million years that Atsumu would ever apologize to you. But it seemed like you were wrong about him. He was still talking a mile a minute so you leaned up and kissed him, shutting him up effectively.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, breathlessly as the kiss ended. You stroked his cheek affectionately,

“Yeah, I do. And I should probably say I’m sorry too, I was a real bitch that night,” you said then with a deep breath and added. “And before you start forgiving me, you should also know that I uhm I kind of slept with Osamu when I was still pissed at you.”

Atsumu just laughed, which was honestly a much better reaction than what you were expecting.

“Gross, you could have at least warned me before you kissed me, Now I’ve got Sumu germs all over me,” he whined making both of you laugh.

“I know you said you didn’t want to date me, and that’s fine but- I really do love you and I won’t sleep around if you don’t want me to, you’re the only one I want to bust a nut in any way.” you visibly cringed and pushed at his chest.

“You had me until that last part,” you said. He wrapped his arms around your trapping you and peppering your face in kisses making you giggle.

“Ba-by at least it’s true, I’ve been saving myself for you! I’ve had the worst case of blue balls for a week now!” he laughed

“Gross!” you shouted in between fits of lighter as his lips tickled your neck.

“I want to give you all of my cummies!”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’ll never have sex with you again,” you threatened and he fell completely silent. Which made you burst out laughing.

“Come here big guy,” you said, pulling him into a soft kiss.

“Did you really mean that I couldn’t talk anymore? Because you’re going to have to gag me if you want to keep me from dirty talking,” he gasped.

“Kinky,” you said, pushing him back on your bed and straddling his lap. “But I think for now you can speak,” you said running your hands over his chest.

“Good, it would be a crime not to let you know how stunning you are,” he said. You slowly kissed him, rolling your hips against his crotch feeling his cock twitch to life in his jeans.

“Hard already? Guess it really has been a while for you,” you teased.

“Shut up I bet your little virgin cunt is so wet right now,” he shot back his cheeks bright pink.

“Mmm are you going to talk shit or are you going to fuck me?” You asked. He smiled up at you in that classic Atsumu way that you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed that smile.

“You know I will princess,” he purred, rolling you over and climbing on top of you.

“Gonna make my pretty baby cum,” he purred, pulling off his shirt. You took turns sensually stripping one another until you were both naked.

“Do you want me to be rough?” he asked, surprising you, you’d both come to an unspoken agreement that sex was always rough.

“Why do you ask?” he blushed.

“I kinda want to go slow and soft tonight, but I get it if that’s not your thing,” he explained. You smiled and kissed him.

“That sounds nice,” you said. He smiled down at you, a lovesick dopey smile. He kissed you again. In the end, you and Atsumu wouldn’t make it. But for now, it didn’t matter, for now just having him kissing and making love to you was enough.

#haikyuu atsumu #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x reader smut #osamu x reader #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu smut

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mermaidxatxheart · 3 years

Text

Better Together Chapter 4

Okay, y'all. I'm posting this just before I go on vacation. If you want to be added to my tag lists, send an ask. My work is not to be reposted anywhere. A big thank you to those who have proof-read this for me. I don't know what I would do without you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, violence, angst. This is where it gets rough.

Chapter 3

Chapter Four

You sit up violently with a scream, clutching at your chest, but it’s not really your chest you’re worried about. You scramble for your friend, but he’s not at the edge of the cave, it’s still dark outside. You’ve probably been asleep for an hour, no more than two.

“Poe!” You call frantically. “Dameron!”

He skids back into the entrance, back into your blessed view, buckle undone on his trousers. “Hey, I’m right here. What happened?” He asks, reaching for your arms.

Your hands press shakily against his chest, desperate to feel his solid heartbeat. “I—“ you stutter.

It was just a dream.

“You’re freezing.” He comments, rubbing your arms to get you warm.

“Wh-what were you doing outside?” You ask, teeth starting to chatter as the shivering hits you.

“Taking a leak. I was just outside.” He leads you back over to the fire and drapes his jacket around your shoulders. “Here, sit in front of the fire, sweetheart. Let’s get you warm.” He builds the fire back up, and while the heat of it dances across your skin, it never goes any deeper.

He starts to stand up but you grab his wrist pleadingly. “Don’t leave me?” You whisper. He seems taken aback by the sheer desperation in your voice, so he nods and settles behind you.

“Close your eyes. I’m right here.” He says softly and you pull his arm around you, needing him close. He presses his forehead to the back of yours and you can feel his breath on your neck. You can feel your hands trembling as you clutch at his and he holds you tighter.

“Do you think,” he starts, lifting his head to speak softly into your ear. You start at the noise and turn to listen better. “Do you think Leia is sobbing uncontrollably right now because of how much she misses me?” He asks quietly and your lips pull up at the corners against your will.

“I’m sure she’s managing somehow. It’s difficult, but I think she can hold on.” You reply, shifting to lay your head back down.

“I hope so. I’d hate to be the reason she suffers so.” He says dramatically and you snort loudly before you can stop yourself. “Bless you.” He adds, his voice dripping with a grin.

“You definitely cause her to suffer.” You mutter and he squeezes your side, exactly where you hate. You squeal and squirm, trying to get away, but he grabs you and presses you flush against him.

“You’re so mean to me.” He sighs, dropping his head against your shoulder, but his nonsense worked, you feel a little better as he holds you so you can sleep.

***

Poe Dameron is…. confusing. And soft. Big giant Ewok. Ever since you woke up this morning, he’s been gentle. Cracking jokes to get you to smile, walking next to you instead of in front of you, taking your hand more often.

About mid morning, you stop for a break. Your legs don’t feel any better and you almost wish you had taken Poe up on his offer to massage them. You ease down onto a log and he hands you some food from his pack.

You close your eyes against the light, sweat trickling down the back of your neck. No matter how many times you wipe it away, more takes its place. You can see Poe in your mind’s eye, leaning against the trunk of the tree across from you, legs crossed at the ankles. You can hear him chewing on the snack he noisily unwrapped.

You can hear a strange noise, almost like a whooshing, or a whistling as something big moves through the air. You try to open your eyes to look around, but your lids won’t cooperate. You feel something swing past your ear, rustling your hair into your face. A big spiked log heading straight for Poe. You scream his name, trying to move to get to him. The spiked log flattens against the tree and you see his legs go slack. You scream, the sound ripping from your throat in anguish as you struggle against whatever is holding you in place.

“Y/N! Y/N!!” Poe’s voice reaches you. He’s shaking you roughly as you fight against his hands. It takes you a minute to realize he’s the one holding you, and another to pry your eyes open and look at him. He’s blurry, confusingly so, until you realize you’re crying. “Hey, you’re okay. I’m right here.” He says, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m right here.” The tears spill over and he brushes them away with his thumbs, searching your face. “You fell asleep on me.” He says, half a smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t like it here.” You whisper, throat sore from the scream. “I don’t like it.” You shake your head, dropping it against his chest. His big hand cradles the back of your head, stroking your hair softly.

“I know. Just a couple more days and then we’ll go tell Leia that this planet won’t work.” He promises.

“Except it’s almost perfect.” You groan.

“Not if it’s doing this to you. Hey, look at me.” He says gently, guiding your head back. “Wanna leave? We’ll go back right now.”

You want to. You want to take him up on it so badly. Your hands twitch towards his, but you force them to stay still. “No. We have a mission to complete.” You mumble and he sighs.

“Alright. Just say the word, sweetheart, and we’re gone.” He assures you and you nod.

***

“Know what I would kill for right now?” He huffs, lifting you over a log.

“A more capable partner?” You mutter dully.

“Ice cream. Cold, sweet, melty, chocolate, beebleberry, denta bean.” He hums, wiping his face. “Mmm. Denta bean.” He licks his lips and your eyes are suddenly drawn to them. He’s hot. His face is flushed from sweating and so much hiking. He needs to take a break.

“Hey, hey. Poe.” You grab his arm and he spins into you abruptly. “Sit. You need water.” You tell him, pushing him down onto the ground. He pulls you into his lap with him and you can’t stop the smile that cracks through.

“Are you okay?” He asks, tucking hair behind your ear as you fumble for his canteen.

“I’m fine. I promise I won’t fall asleep this time.” You say.

“You can sleep on me any time.” He huffs. You pick up his canteen and frown.

“Drink.” You insist, holding the skein to his soft lips.

He parts them, allowing the cool liquid to flow in. His dark eyes never leave you as he drinks. After a few seconds, he captures your wrist and lowers it.

“We either need to find a safe water source, or head back to the ship.” You say after a minute. “We’re almost out of water.”

“You’re the boss.” He cracks a smile, adjusting his head against the rough bark.

“Technically, you’re the commander on this mission.” You remind him.

“Oh yeah? Well, technically, you’re smarter.” He admits shamelessly and you roll your eyes.

“Ever have fried ice cream from Corellia?” You ask, shifting to sit back next to him.

“No. Is it delicious? It sounds pointless. Wouldn’t it melt?”

“Nope. They do this thing to it that super freezes it so it only gets a little soft in its crispy shell.” The taste of it, salty and sweet ghosts across your tongue and you clamp down on the sound wanting to escape. “After this is over, we’ll go and I’ll buy you some.” You promise.

“It’s a date.” He says, dropping his hand onto your thigh in the absolute most friendly way possible, but your stomach still flip-flops in your midsection.

“You know, this is the dumbest mission ever. We’ve been sent to a planet that’s never been explored and we’re wandering around aimlessly trying to map it in just a couple days.” You groan.

“Know what I think?” He says, turning his handsome face to look at you.

“That Leia must have been desperate to get you out of her perfect hair? I just don’t see why she had to drag me down with you.” You sigh and he drops his head forward, chuckling.

“You’re so funny.” He says and then lunges, capturing you around your waist and rolling you both into the ground as you shriek. You cling to his shoulders as you land on your back, his hands cradling your head to protect it from the hard ground.

“Jerk.” You huff. Then you blink, seeming to realize just how close his face is to yours. His soft brown eyes are searching yours, his charming smile slowly fading.

Bryce’s smiling face flashes in your mind’s eye and you twist your face away with a groan. He blinks in confusion.

“You weigh a ton.” You protest and a soft chuckle skates across your cheek.

“All muscle, sweetheart.”

“Sure. If muscle here means bantha burgers.” You tease, but it’s fake. Regret settles low in your belly and you’re absolutely not sure if it’s regret at not kissing Poe, or letting it go so far. Unfortunately, Poe Dameron is literally the easiest person in the galaxy to be around.

“Maker, you’re mean when you’re—“ he cuts off and pushes himself off you.

“When I’m what?” You prompt.

“...camping.” He says finally and you know that’s not even close to what he was gonna say.

“We should keep moving. Find some water.” You mumble, pushing yourself up and gathering your things.

“Yeah. ‘Course.” He joins you once more, but this time in silence.

***

His shoulders are tense. Pulled almost all the way up to his ears. His shirt catches at his spine, bunching at the gap at his neck and sticking to the rest of him. He hasn’t spoken in over an hour and you’re terrified that he’s mad at you.

You follow dutifully behind him now, no longer next to him as you were this morning. A dozen times, you’ve opened your mouth to call his name. But then you shrink back, hiding in your own cowardice.

The image of that knife plunging into his chest slams into you full force and you squeak, mouth opening, his name on your lips before you can catch it this time.

“Sh, you hear that?” He asks, holding up his hand to stop you in your tracks.

Bubbling, the sound of a river flowing swiftly. Water. He turns to glance at you before his hand latches tightly onto yours and then he’s pulling. He drags you along, hardly able to keep up. You round the base of a tree and there it is, crystal clear, blue, fast enough to be safe. You quickly mark it on your holopad, noting the direction it’s flowing in. Poe steps forward, but you pull him back, fear twisting you.

“Let me test it first.” You say quietly, avoiding his eyes. You dig into your bag and pull out your kit, dipping it into the water at the bank’s edge. You fill a small vial and dump the tester chemicals into it. You swirl it around as they change colors and you hold it up for him.

“Is blue good?” He asks warily.

“Blue is good.” You confirm and he drops his bag, giving a loud, echoing whoop that disturbs a butterfly resting nearby. He scoops you up in his arms, pulling your bag off and swinging you around as he walks you into the freezingwater.

You shriek, holding onto him as it stings your legs. “Poe!” You protest and he laughs, sinking down to his waist, and Maker, it’s even fucking colder.

“Fuck, it feels so good.” He moans loudly, sinking in up to his shoulders. After the initial shock, you do have to admit that the cool water is lowering your body temperature considerably. You duck under the surface, holding your breath and getting your sweaty hair wet.

You come back to the surface to see him watching you. “Better than ice cream?” You ask and he tips his head back, laughing jubilantly.

“A million times better.” He agrees.

“We should refill.” You say, thinking again. You head for the shore, grabbing both of your canteens and holding them under the water. They fill to the very brim and you screw the lids back on, enjoying the heavy feel of them once again.

“Are you done?” He asks from directly behind you and you jump.

“How do you move so quietly in fucking water?” You ask, turning to face him.

“Special skill.” He says shortly, a toss away answer.

“Poe,” you start. You want to apologize for this morning, the abrupt shut out.

“Sh.” He says, applying just a little pressure to your shoulders until you sink to your knees, shivering in the frigid water. He moves behind you, tipping your head back gently until your neck is stretched as far as it’ll go.

“I’m sorry,” you start again.

“Sh.” He hushes you again, his big hands fill with water and he lets it flood your hair. The cool water instantly dispels the heat in your scalp and it feels so good. Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps doing it. He guides you to lean forward slightly as he pulls your hair out of the way. More scoops of water splash over your burning neck, sending chills down your spine.

You stare at your rippling reflection in the water, Poe behind you, taking care of you. Always fucking taking care of you.

Oh.

Maker, you’re blind.

You blink the tears away, choosing to pretend that it’s the river water. You grab his hand awkwardly from behind you to stop him and you stand up, turning to face him.

Your best friend, probably the only person you’ve ever cared about more than yourself.

“Poe,” you breathe, your fingers curling into the front of his soaked shirt.

Why fight it?

“Y/N?”

You tug, just hard enough to let him know what you want. He moves forward, closing the distance and then your lips are on his. They’re soft, and currently immobile under yours as the shock settles in. But that’s okay. Your hands slide up to hold his face, curling around his ears. You shift, lips moving against his, and he snaps out of it, opening his mouth for you. His hands blaze a trail down to your waist as he pulls you closer, pressing you against his chest. You lick into his mouth as he moans, fingers twisting into your shirt. He kisses you harder, more urgently than you’ve ever been kissed by anyonebefore. Your fingers card through his hair, holding him as close as you can. Your heart is slamming against your ribs at the taste of him.

“Well, what do we have here? Two resistance rats.” A voice says and you jump apart, your heart coming to a dead stop in your chest.

Three StormTroopers stand on either side of the bank, blasters aimed directly at you. Poe reaches for his own blaster, but a laser pointer trained right over your heart stops him.

“Try it. Please. I’m begging you. I haven’t been so bored in ages. A little target practice would be great.” One of them snarks.

“You could probably use it, too.” Poe says before he can stop himself.

“Out.” Another one orders, waving his gun and gesturing.

Poe hesitates. He wants to fight, it’s what he does. There’s only three of them, after all. But then, you’re there, in harm’s way. You think back to your comment this morning about him getting a more capable partner. You’ve never wished for anything harder.

One of the troopers pulls the hammer back, leveling the blaster at you. Poe looks at you, gritting his teeth together before trudging to the edge of the water. You follow, hating that he’s giving up because of you, because you’re so weak. You hate that you got him caught, because you distracted him with a kiss.

And then guilt floods you as your hands are handcuffed behind your back roughly. The kiss. You wonder if it even matters now, you probably won’t make it home to tell Bryce the truth anyway.

But that doesn’t stop the guilt from filling you. You wish you had taken Poe up on his offer to leave this morning. Now you’ve gotten him caught. They nudge you in the direction of the river, downstream and Poe glances over his shoulder at you, his usually warm eyes cold.

You’re a terrible friend.

Chapter 5

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