#I’m going to come back to the land of the living 6 hours later fully drenched and panting with the most angsty doomed yaoi since GenHaya | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

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Title: Hibiscus Kisses {6}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Lots Of Words, Death

Words: 8.3k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |

You must have stood at the back of the yacht for a while because the shore and the docks were barely visible at this point. Every minute that ticked by you weighed your options of just diving in and swimming back. Everything you came up with seemed fine to deal with. So what if your hair got wet and you had to go through your four-hour wash and treat routine. So what if you attracted a shark or two, you could swim. So what if everything in your bag got drenched, you could replace them.

With the number of rebuttals you came up with, you should have jumped in already. The major con that was flashing in your head in neon lettering was you are an adult and not a child who ran away from difficult situations. The sound of laughter had you turning around to see Chris laughing with Harper. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Scoffing, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

Almost a minute later you felt Chris standing beside you. “If you want to swim back I’m sure you could make it.”

If looks could kill, the one you gave him should have done it. All you had to do was push him overboard to a watery grave. Chris lifted his hands to show his no threat status and that was when you walked away.

“All right folks. It’ll be another forty minutes before we arrive at the best fishing spot in all of the islands. It’s my little secret. In the meantime, you have a choice of activities. You can go down below and marine watch, stay on deck and do some pictures and sights, or go into the bubble where you are surrounded by the ocean. It is optimal for fish watching. I’ll let you folks know when we’ve arrived.”

You nodded and walked toward the steps that would lead below deck. You fully intended to get as far away from him as possible. Ignoring the way he turned to you as if he had something to say, you carefully went down the steps and to the back of the yacht. There you found what Harper was referring to. It looked like an actual bubble with two seats. Once you sat down you saw why this was mentioned as the most sought-after experience. You really felt like you were alone under the ocean and not apart from it but one with it.

You watched a school of yellow and black striped fish swim by and a small box popped up to the right of the screen with a still photo of the fish and a few listed facts.

“Moorish Idol fish. These fish commonly inhabit tropical to subtropical reefs and lagoons. These fish usually travel alone or in small schools. These fish mate for life and adult males show aggression to one another.”

Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected it to be high-tech. In front of you, you grabbed the flipbook and flicked through it to see a variety of sea creatures. The announcement of another fish brought your attention back to the ocean before you and that is where your eyes remained. Creature after creature swam by and up to the glass. Each one was announced and described. As they came up, you took pictures of the pretty ones you liked ready to show them to your family when you returned home.

You were so wrapped up in fish watching that you didn’t notice that you weren’t alone until it was too late. Chris slipped into the seat beside you, startling you. Your harsh glare landed on him with the force of fifty blades behind it. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were glued to the water and passing reef life.

“Oh wow, Nemo and Dory,” Chris exclaimed inching closer to the glass.

That was all it took for your attention to go right back, and lo and behold there were Dory and Nemo lookalikes.

“Wow.”

Mirroring Chris’s actions you slid to the edge of the seat as well and touched the glass. They were pretty in animation but that had nothing on real life. The orange and blue were so striking up close.

“They’re even best friends in real life,” Chris quietly said.

For the next few minutes neither of you spoke again you were too wrapped up in looking at all the fish that passed by one after the other. When you’d reached a part of the ocean where life was scarce, you sat back and crossed your arms.

“Can I please explain?”

You sighed and dropped your head back to rest on the hard headrest, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

“I promise I’m not this asshole you have me pegged as in your head.”

“So you don’t go around trying to charm women out of your panties and in your bed for notches on your bedpost?”

“God no!”

You rolled your eyes not believing one word.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing but good,” Chris replied holding up three fingers.

A smirk teased your lips at the Harry Potter line he’d just repurposed for his own use mixed with the Hunger Games salute. You shook your head unable to ignore how adorkably stupid he was.

“You know those two have nothing to do with the other, right?”

Chris slyly smiled and shrugged. “It’s sorta my thing. Sleeping around and I have nothing to do with each other also.”

You snorted and shook your head. He was smooth.

“You’re real smooth, I’ll give you that.”

He sighed and turned his body more to you. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Chris began.

“Let me stop you there. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time anyone starts off with that, chances are there was no misunderstanding,” you dryly informed.

“That high? Okay, then I fall in the point one percent.”

You glared at him again but he didn’t back down, he held your glare but behind his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity rather than the hostility you had spearing behind yours. When you didn’t object, he opened his mouth to speak again but you looked away.

“There’s no need.”

“Why won’t you let me explain?”

You knew why. If he explained and the explanation seemed plausible and he looked sincere the chances of you believing it would be eighty percent and that was high. You would then continue spending time with him because you did enjoy his company and conversation and eventually sleep with him. Maybe. Letting him explain was step one that would lead to a series of missteps. Then you’d find yourself in a situation come the end of the cruise when both of you went your separate ways. There were too many what-ifs in the air.

“Ah, I think I know. If you let me explain then this image you have of me being a womanizer who is after fast and quick ass, who would come on a cruise to chase women for a notch would be debunked. If it is debunked, then you’d have to admit that you liked spending time with me and enjoyed yourself. Then you’d have to admit that what might have happened if my phone didn’t ring wouldn’t have been a one-off. You’d have to face the possibility that there might be something here past our physical attraction.”

Well damn, you thought. For a moment your thoughts betrayed the steely animosity in your eyes and you knew your shock shone through. You quickly looked away from him and tapped into your inner Elsa while watching a school of white fish pass by. You could feel him beside you staring at you as if trying to crack your resolve. You fought against him and kept your breathing slow and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me I’m right. I know I am and it’s not because I’m a cocky prick. It’s because—,” Chris paused then sighed heavily before he continued. “I liked spending time—with you. Like really liked it and this was before anything physical happened. You’re funny and fun and not phased by this thing called fame that is wrapped around me. You probably don’t understand it, but that’s something refreshing and attractive to me.”

Unable to resist any longer, you sneakily glanced at him while wondering if any part of what he’d just said was possibly true.

“Before I came on this cruise to get away from my life—run away from my life.”

Your interest piqued. Why was he running away? Didn’t he have everything?

“My friend, the one you heard on the phone was teasing me about the reason. I didn’t want to give him the real deal so I kept quiet which led him to the conclusion that it had something to do with a woman. It didn’t but he thought it. So the phone call was him stating his opinions again, his way of life. Now I’m not condoning what he said at all but that’s his life. I didn’t come here for any of that and that night wasn’t about that for me.”

“What was it about?”

You blurted the question without a thought and once you’d asked, you regretted it. The answer wouldn’t do you any good.

Sighing, you looked back out to the water. “Don’t answer that.”

And he didn’t. The silence stretched and your thoughts did as well. You contemplated his explanation and the probability of any of it being true. He had all the reason to lie right now, but the more you thought about it the more you guessed he didn’t need to lie being who he was. He could have just shrugged and put you on the side that wasn’t a fan of his and kept it moving.

“Look,” Chris said shoving his phone to you with the text exchange between him and someone named Austin was visible.

“I know what it is to be distrustful of strangers or everyone really and proof means a lot to me. Since the burden of proof is on my side, here it is.”

You read through the exchange from a little over a week ago and sure enough, his friend Austin was scum. The irrefutable proof showed those sentiments were his and even showed Chris admonishing him for those sentiments and setting him straight. The banter that continued was Austin teasing him about his good boy behaviors. From the texts, you could tell they were close, and you could also tell that Austin was the asshole between them and Chris was possibly a good guy.

Groaning, you looked away and dropped your head back to the headrest again. You did not need this. Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the silence. Several minutes passed by where neither of you spoke and just when you were going to Harper’s voice came in over the ship’s intercoms.

“We have some dolphin action up here if anyone’s interested.”

“Dolphins!”

Your head snapped to Chris hearing the uncharacteristically excited squeal. Did he really just turn into a Powerpuff girl? Chris leapt to his feet and began walking toward the steps leaving you there to wonder just what kind of man he was.

A few moments later, you emerged from below and walked to the railing to see a dolphin jump out of the water in the distance.

“Oh my god!”

At that moment you felt your smallness in the world. There were so many other creatures that were bigger and yet humans always thought themselves so superior. It was baffling.

“It’s not always like this, they must be here to greet you folks,” Harper said as another jumped out and one swam up.

You dropped down to your knees and peered over the railing and marveled at the aquatic beauty.

“They’re so friendly.”

Just then, a dolphin popped up showing its long bottlenose and black eyes and in the same breath, a stream of water came at you drenching you. In your shock, you just sat there while Chris and Harper heartily got their laugh in at your expense. To add insult to injury the dolphin even sounded like it was laughing. Who could be mad though? It was too cute. You looked across the way and saw Chris snapping pictures of you with a wide smile on his face. Being alarmed, snapping at him, or even telling him to delete the pictures would have all been acceptable reactions but you didn’t react in any of those ways. Instead, you brought your attention back to the dolphins in the water. Let him take his pictures, you thought.

Twenty minutes later you were sitting at the side of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge enjoying the breeze, sun, and tranquility being on the ocean brought. There was something so serene about being in the middle of a giant body of water with creatures of plenty underneath its depths while there was nothing in sight for miles and miles. It was peaceful. The pictures you took of the horizon, the sky, and the water were breathtaking. You knew they’d make great printouts to add to your walls when you returned home. When you realized your battery was running low, you dug into your bag for one of your four fully charged portable chargers and slipped your phone into one of the many waterproof pouches you had your belongings secured inside.

Your sister liked to make fun of you for how well you prepared for things. When you went out for every day, your purse contained every possible thing you would and could need for the day. You didn’t like being unprepared for whatever you came across and that included something as minor as rain all the way to the major things like abductions. You’d been the butt of many jokes but you didn’t care.

Glancing to the other side of the yacht, you watched as Chris followed the instruction of Harper as he practiced a variety of sailor’s knots. It didn’t look like he was a novice though. You could tell he’d done it a few times before. Sooner than you could look away, Harper caught you then motioned you over. It would have been rude to ignore him, so you walked over to them and sat before them.

“Here, try your hand at sailor’s knots,” Chris suggested holding out a length of rope to you.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he followed up as you took it.

“You look like you’ve done it before.”

“Once or twice,” he replied.

You studied the knots surrounding Chris for a few moments then took a stab at it. From the beginning you messed it up but didn’t quit, instead, you undid it and tried again. You didn’t quit easy. That was probably why you were in your current relationship predicament. A few minutes and several failed attempts later, you held up the finished product that looked identical to Chris’s.

“So you have one of those brains where you can see something and replicate it?”

You scoffed and shrugged. “Kind of. I just pick some things up quickly.”

Chris nodded and held out another length of rope and pointed to a different pattern. “Try this one.”

You knew it was a test. You grabbed the rope and studied the new pattern that was a lot more intricate than the first. Though it was more intricate it took you a shorter amount of time to start. When you held it up for them to see, less time had passed and you hadn’t made one mistake.

“Wow,” Harper exclaimed before he chuckled.

“What can I say, I’m pretty amazing,” you joked.

Both men laughed but didn’t debate the fact.

“We’re coming up on the cove that gives me the best fish. Of course, we’re catching and releasing, but it won’t dampen the experience,” Harper informed.

Within a few short minutes, Harper had pulled up to one of the most beautiful coves you’d ever seen. The water was aquamarine crystal blue. It was so crystal like you could see several feet into it. The giant rocks that created a maze had moss growing off the tops of them that were lush green and created a nice contrast of colors. If you could have picked up this view and brought it home with you, you would have. It was that breathtaking.

You weren’t the only one thinking it, Chris was a few feet away snapping every picture he could get, only he didn’t look like a tourist. He looked like a professional travel photographer. When he dropped to one of his knees to get a different angle you just leaned against the railing and watched. The sun beaming down on him gave his hair a reddish hue which looked good on him. It even accentuated the freckles peppered along his arms. You remembered what was under that shirt of his at that second. You remembered the muscles, the hair, and the tats. It was an unexpected sight but one that you wouldn’t mind seeing again. Instantly you kissed your teeth and slapped your forehead.

“Cut it out.”

“Did you say something?”

Chris was looking at you with a quizzical expression with his camera still posed up.

“Nope, nothing.”

He didn’t look like he believed you, but slowly he went back to snapping his pictures while you tried to create even more distance between you.

“Get a grip, Ajali. It hasn’t been that long. You’re not affection starved either. Get—a—grip.”

You took a few slow breathes and focused on the scene before you. You now understood why many people said this island was a top destination for vacations.

“And we’re ready. You both said you’ve fished before, right?”

You walked toward Harper’s voice then saw he had fishing rods, buckets, gloves, and all the other supplies lying at his feet.

“I’ve done some fishing,” Chris offered before both sets of eyes landed on you.

“Never.”

“It’s not hard, I promise,” Harper assured bending for the rods. He held one out to Chris and the other to you.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll explain everything and its function. If either of you have any questions let me know.”

Harper walked a few feet away leading the two of you to a shaded portion of the yacht. Once there, he explained everything in detail. He showed the parts of the rod, showed how to put things together, explained their function, and then went on to the different kinds of bait that were available. When he began demonstrating how to hold the rod and posture you paid close attention and imitated what he did. You knew though this was something that would take some getting used to.

After twenty minutes, the three of you were in your spots ready to cast your rods. You watched Harper cast his first and it looked so fluid. You could tell he’d done this thousand of times. Then you watched Chris and though his movements weren’t as fluid, it looked like he was far from a beginner. You sighed and tried your best. The rod was heavy in your hands and affected your ability to control it and cast it perfectly. Glancing at Harper, he shrugged.

“Good enough. You got it where it needs to go.”

A soft chuckle escaped both you and Chris.

“What kind of catch do you get out here?”

Harper proceeded to explain the different kinds of fish he’d caught to Chris while you partially zoned them out. It didn’t take long for you to understand why people liked fishing. It was calming. You could leisurely do it while letting your mind drift and worries float away. Thirty minutes later it was your line that tugged first. You yelped then squeaked as you panicked.

“What do I do?”

“Reel it in,” Harper said.

The resistance on the line was giving you a good arm workout. The struggle went back and forth. You doubted this was a baby.

“This thing is strong.”

“You got it, put your back into it like Ice Cube,” Chris teased making you narrow your eyes at him. That only made him laugh loudly.

A few more moments of struggle persisted until you’d yanked the rod backward tucking it out of the water, over your head, and flopping the fish right on the deck.

“Aaaah, oh my god! I caught a fish!”

You jumped up and down excited by your success. Forgetting any prior slights you jumped closer to Chris and bumped shoulders with him.

“I did it!”

“You did.”

“Good job. This here is a Barracuda,” Harper announced.

“Ooooh Barracuda,” you and Chris said in unison like the song. The two of you giggled together before returning your attention to Harper.

“It’s not an adult, but it’s no baby either. You want a picture?”

“Yes!”

You scurried to your bag and pulled out your phone then handed it to Chris before you dropped down to your knees and bent to the fish still flopping on the deck and smiled as you’d just won the lotto. Chris laughed and took the picture a few moments later. After the first few shots, you changed poses and let him take a few more. You watched as Chris’s face went from wide smiles to solemn confusion. Just as you were going to ask if your battery died, Harper spoke.

“Do you want to do the honors of releasing it?”

“You mean touch it?”

Harper nodded and you ardently shook your head. “No thank you. I hear Barracudas like to bite.”

Harper laughed at you as he effortlessly grabbed the fish by its tail then chucked it back into the ocean.

“It was just an adolescent.”

Chris held your phone out then walked back to his rod without a word. Slight confusion washed over you as you glanced at your screen to see one of the pictures he’d just taken, but your battery was fully charged.

For the next few hours Chris barely spoke to you, but when you glanced over to him, his eyes were always on you before he looked away once yours met his. It was a complete turnaround from before. It shouldn’t have bothered or affect you at all considering the reality of things, but it did bother you a little bit. Once the three of you had had your fill of catch and release the sun was beginning to disappear. Harper caught a huge Mahi Mahi, scaled and fillet it right in front of you, and Chris showing off his impressive knife skills. He then took the fish to prepare what he promised would be the best open ocean fish you’d ever had. You were excited to see the finished product.

Once Harper had disappeared down below you walked to the cooler, took out two beers, and walked over to Chris. He was sitting toward the back of the yacht watching the rocks in silence. You sat beside him, held out the beer, and waited for him to accept it. When he took it, he wasted no time twisting off the top and taking a mouthful. You sat there in silence looking over the view.

“Who knew a celebrity could fish.”

“I’m not a celebrity all day every day. I have hobbies and free time.”

“I take it fishing is a hobby?”

“When I can get to it. Sometimes I can’t go off the grid to do it.”

You nodded and tried to picture him at a lake with a rod and bucket of bait catching fish. A soft smile spread across your face before you gulped your beer.

“What’s one of your hobbies?”

Taking a deep breath you slowly released it. “Painting.”

“You’re artistic?”

“Depends what you call artistic. I can slap some paint on a canvas and call it a day.”

Chris looked at you for a few moments. “Somehow I find it hard to believe it’s as lowkey as you’re describing. I bet you’re a modern-day Frida Kahlo.”

You smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Silence spread between you again and the two of you sipped from your bottles. It was a semi-comfortable silence.

“Are you departing tomorrow or staying on?”

You wanted to ask why he wanted to know but decided against it. “Staying on.”

Chris nodded. “Me too.”

Neither of you spoke again, instead, you watched the sky as the sun slowly began its descent behind the water. When Harper returned, the air filled with such a delicious scent that your belly grumbled loudly.

“And dinner is served. Harper placed the platter down on the table and you and Chris walked over to it. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

“What kind of kitchen do you have down there that can produce that?”

“I’ve had tons of practice.”

The Mahi Mahi that was alive less than two hours ago was now cooked to perfection and decorated with papaya, and a green salad.

“Wow, this looks mouthwatering,” Chris complimented.

“It’s nothing fancy, just some fish with a papaya and seaweed salad.”

“Seaweed salad? Oh wow. You utilize everything huh.”

“Absolutely. I can tell you more about using everything you can to not only survive but make good food,” Harper said motioning you both to sit down.

“No one is serving you here, help yourselves there’s plenty.”

The three of you dug in taking portions of fish and salad. When you took a bite of the Mahi Mahi your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god. This is so good.”

“All it needed was some salt, pepper, and lemon. Sometimes keeping it simple is the best way.”

Chris moaned and nodded in agreement with you. “Delicious.”

As the three of you ate, Harper told you all about his travels and time living on his own on the ocean and how he’d learned to survive on little to nothing. It was so interesting to hear his story. From it, you gathered he was determined, creative, meticulous, and persevering. He didn’t let anything stop him and because of that mindset, he said he’d seen a lot of wonderful things and had a beautiful life. Listening to him speak about his loves and losses and how it was just him in the end you couldn’t help but think about your relationships.

When he began listing off the life lessons he’d learned you made note of each and every one of them. You always thought the stories of the older generations were interesting. While most of their experiences were relatable, a lot of it wasn’t because of the difference in eras. In Harper’s era being a bachelor past twenty-two was seen as taboo, yet that was the life he lived. When he spoke of when he did get married, it was to the one woman he’d loved since he was twenty years old. The woman he’d been stupid about and missed out on two times. From the way he spoke about her, you knew she was his soul mate.

Glancing to Chris who was sitting diagonally from you, part of you wondered how relatable Harper’s experiences were to him. You thought back to the very few tabloid and gossip stories you’d read about him but nothing jumped out to you. The tabloids didn’t focus on one woman that he was possibly seeing, they didn’t highlight any crazy behaviors with any of them or even highlight breakups. That was part of how you’d pieced him together. The lack of information left for such a wide breadth of possibilities to put together.

“Take it from me young ones, when you’re walking down a dimly lit street of soft lights, and you happen to find that anomaly among the sea that shines a different light and makes everything else pale in comparison you do whatever it takes to hold on to that. You fight for it and don’t let anything or anyone make you miss out on it. None of us are here for a long time. One day I’ll join my Angie and we’ll be together again. I welcome that day, until then I’ll keep drifting.”

The three of you sat there in silence, each of you lost in your thoughts and worries. Was Javii that anomaly or was he part of the sea and you’d been mistaken this whole time? When Harper returned to the helm to captain you back toward land you were secluded from the rest of them and still lost in your thoughts. It had been days since you left and you’d figured out nothing. If anything, you’d added more to your plate to think about. This was what you hadn’t wanted to do and that was the reason you chose this option rather than staying in the city.

You began to wonder again about the person who would be that anomaly that Harper spoke of. Rather than thinking of your experiences with Javii, your irresponsible mind thought of your run-ins with Chris. When you’d seen him in passing before boarding the ship you’d noticed him in the sea of people and amidst every chaotic thing happening around you. Your brain singled him out. It did it again when you saw him in passing topside when you’d met Genevieve and in the lounge club. It was something you hadn’t focused on before but now it was all you could think of.

“Get a freaking grip, Ajali!”

You smacked your head and dropped it down hunching over to hug your shins. Suddenly, you felt raindrops and those drops quickly turned into a waterfall.

“What the--,” you began holding your hands out confused how a downpour like this could just suddenly start.

Unexpectedly, the ship lurched hard to the left sending items on the deck toppling over including your beer bottle and the empty ones around it. Thinking quickly, you grabbed the railing to not tumble. Your grip was precarious thanks to the downpour and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. Just as you were losing your grip, that was when the ship lurched again only this time to the right. With no time to grab for the railing, you tumbled over but before you hit the deck arms wrapped around you stabilizing you.

“I got you.”

Glancing up, you found Chris with rainwater pouring down his face and beard. He was holding on tightly to one of the metal poles while holding you tightly in his other arm. When the rocking went from deadly to manageable, Chris slowly let you go.

“Something must be wrong. Let’s go.”

Both of you took off on the search to find Harper. Every few seconds the rocking of the ship made items fall and roll. Chris was the one to pull you in every which direction to help you avoid the bigger items. When the ship bucked back you both slid back.

“Aaah, fuck!”

A sharp slice caught you off guard making you fall to the deck. Before Chris could react the boat rocked again sending you rolling back a few feet. When you slammed into one of the walls you shouted out in pain. Seconds later Chris was bent before you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes quickly scanned your body and found your bleeding foot.

“Oh god.

Chris quickly pulled off his tropical printed shirt, ripped it, and began wrapping your foot.

“I’m sorry I have to do this tight to hopefully slow the bleeding,” Chris informed before he yanked the material, knotting it tightly around your injury. You tried to stifle your groan but it didn’t work. Your shout echoed across the open water and carried it competing with the downpour from the sky.

“I’m sorry. Ready to keep going? We’re almost there.”

You nodded and let Chris help you up. With his arm around your waist and yours draped over his shoulder the two of you hurried to the small enclosure where Harper was steering the boat. Every so often thanks to the falling and rolling items you and Chris looked like circus performers, jumping, dodging, and sliding out of harm's way. The way Chris managed to go into protector and alpha mode had you seeing a new side to him. Women did love a man who could take charge.

When you finally made it you found Harper passed out on the floor.

“Oh my god!”

Chris placed you along one of the windows so you could lean against it before he dropped down to his knees to check for a pulse. The longer it took him to turn to you, the more anxious you became.

“He has a pulse, but it’s thready. Looks like he may have hit his head,” Chris informed before he ripped the while men’s tank he wore at the hem and pressed it to Harper’s forehead.

On impact, Harper groaned then bolted up.

“Hey, take it easy,” Chris shouted trying to compete with the loudness of the ocean and the rain.

“No. Storm. We’re in a storm. We call these pop-ups. They happen all the time,” Harper explained as Chris helped him to his feet.

“If you knew it was coming--,” you began.

“I didn’t. No one can predict these and they’re increasingly more dangerous.”

The yacht whipped as if it were a leash sending all three of you knocking into whatever was closest. Immediately the pain that whisked through you had you screaming. That was the first time you thought you were going to die. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating. You slowly opened your eyes but couldn’t make anything out through the haziness. You couldn’t pinpoint where the pain in your body was coming from, it felt like it was everywhere.

“Ajali!”

Snapping your eyes open you saw Chris’s drenched and concerned face before you. “Open your eyes. Stay with me!”

It was a forceful command. One that you slowly obeyed. He helped you to a sitting position then turned back to Harper who was trying to stand to look over the built-in equipment of the ship.

“We’re way off course here. Somehow this storm has put us way off route. It makes no sense.”

“What does that mean?!”

“It means we’re drifting and not towards the islands. We’re drifting away.”

“What!”

Harper tried to turn the key for the engine but it stalled then sputtered. He tried it again and again but the result was the same.

“This is bad,” Harper added.

“What do we do?”

The ship rocked again but this tilt was so drastically different. It actually went so far on its side that it felt like you were going to capsize.

“We’re gonna tip over!”

Chris ran from the small room fighting against gravity’s pull to yank him over. Your first thought was he was leaving you.

“Hang on tight!”

Your scream was so loud you doubt you’d ever gone that high before. Terror gripped your heart and your entire life flashed before your eyes. You were certain you were done for. There was no way to make it out of this. You began mumbling but you didn’t know if what you said made any sense. A few seconds later, the ship dropped back into the water allowing you to remain top side up. You felt hands on your body and you opened your eyes to Chris shoving your arms in a bright orange life vest.

“I could only find one right now so it’s yours.”

“What—what about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Hold on tight.”

He spun around looking at Harper.

“I have to get below.”

Harper hurried out without another word and Chris turned back to you.

“I’m going to help him. Stay here.”

He made a move to leave and you grabbed his hand pulling him back to you.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not. I’m going below with Harper. I’m sure he’ll need my help. I think it’s safer for you up here.”

You still held tight to his hand fear controlling your movements. Chris’s expression softened before he took a step close to you to hold you at the side of your neck to the base of your skull.

“I swear to you I won’t leave you, no matter what. We’re in this together. I will be back and we’ll laugh about this one day. For that day to come though we have to get through this and I have to help him down below. You’ll be safe. Hold on tight, stay low.”

You nodded and took a few breathes trying to psych yourself up.

“You got this,” Chris said before he pulled away and walked from you.

You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer hoping for him to come back and that his words weren’t bullshit.

The seconds seemed to slowly tick by and the minutes went on for lifetimes. Every jolt of the ship leveled you to a whimpering mess. You did just as Chris has instructed—kept low and held on for dear life. You didn’t care how numb your hand became from gripping the cold metal for so long you kept holding on. You didn’t care how cold you got from not only the ocean water but the rain and the strong wind gusts, you remained in your corner shivering refusing to come out. It didn’t matter how much the pain you felt intensified the colder you got you ignored it and kept whispering your silent prayers. You didn’t want to die. Not like this.

You heard something like a loud crack then the groaning of metal then the ship once again tilted. You screeched and tried to hold yourself to the railing but the further the boat tilted the harder it was to hold on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You screamed again and braced yourself to end up in the water under the boat, but instead of it tipping it once again dropped back onto the water’s surface.

“Oh my god!”

“Ajali, can you hear me?”

You whipped your head around trying to find where the voice was coming from without letting go of the railing. You were too scared.

“Ajali. Can you hear me!”

On the dashboard, you saw a red light flashing and guessed it was the radio. The only problem was for you to get to it, you’d have to let go and walk over to it. If the yacht tilted again you’d slid your ass out the room and off the boat. It was a risk.

“Ajali, pick up. We’re down here trying to fix the engine but we need you to turn her on for us. Can you do that?”

“Fuck!”

You slowly stood, fighting against your aching joints, bones, and muscles, and stood upright with most of your weight on your uninjured foot. You assessed the distance from where you were to the dashboard and knew slow and steady was the best way but you doubted you had that time. You took a deep breath and took three hops on your good foot toward the dashboard. When there was just one hop left to take the vessel rocked sending you off balance and smack dab into the glass with your face.

At this point, there was no part of your body that wasn’t in pain. A metallic irony taste filled your mouth and you knew you were bleeding. You had no idea from where though, your face was completely numb.

“Ajali!?”

Using the back of one hand, you wiped across your mouth and took another deep breath, and hopped to the dashboard throwing yourself across it and holding it for dear life. You took a few moments to calm yourself then grabbed the walkie.

“I’m here.”

You heard Chris exhale as if he was relieved. “Thank god, I thought something happened.”

“I’m fine,” you lied while trying to wipe away the blood that dripped across the dashboard.

“Try to turn the engine on.”

You twisted the designated key all that happened was a long exaggerated sputter then hiss.

“This time keep it turned don’t release it,” Chris suggested.

Doing as you were told, you waited and begged the engine to cooperate. When you heard a yell over the walkie you knew it wasn’t good.

“Damn it! There’s water in the engine. The only way to even begin to work on it is for it to dry out. That’s gonna be impossible during a storm. It’ll just keep flooding. We’re not moving. Damn it!”

There was a full range of banging over the walkie that only made you panic more.

“Can everyone not fall apart right now? Please. I’m terrified enough as it is,” you pleaded.

“Listen to my voice, it’s okay. We’re coming back up. We just have to weather the storm,” Chris said. His voice sounded like he was panicking but was also trying to showcase calm. You heard both.

Another loud crack echoed but it wasn’t on your end, it was over the walkie.

“What was that?”

The sound rang out again and everything went dead silent over the walkie before a loud crash of something breaking echoed out. At that moment the ship lurched again only this time the groan of metal was so loud it made you shake from fear. Garbled speech went in and out over the walkie alarming you.

“He—hello?”

The only response you got was the walkie dying.

“Hello? Hello?” You pressed buttons and turned switches not knowing what any of them did but hoping one of them brought communication back. Nothing helped though.

“Chris! Hello? Chris! Answer me goddamn it!”

You threw the corded walkie and dropped your head down and wailed. There was no hope at all you thought.

“I’m gonna die.”

You cried, finally letting out the angst and terror you were feeling. There was nothing positive about your current situation. You were in the middle of the ocean, practically alone while a storm was raging around you. people went missing like this, people died like this. You were suddenly so tired. A wave of water brushed against your feet but you didn’t think anything of it. You almost couldn’t lift your head.

“Ajali!”

As you lifted your head you saw Chris racing toward you.

“We have to get off this ship.”

“What!”

“The glass broke. We’re taking in water and sinking—fast!”

Hearing those words you found the energy to rise. “What do we do? Where’s Harper?”

“He’s lowering the life raft. Let’s go.”

Chris wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you along. When you made it down the steps to the deck you saw that it was completely filled with water.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s all right, I have you.”

He must have gotten tired of your hobbling because he scooped you up and hurried along treading through the now calf-level water.

“You’re freezing cold,” Chris mumbled.

“What are we gonna do?”

Chris reached Harper who looked as if he’d been through hell. From one glance you could tell he was hurt.

“Climb down first,” Harper said to you as Chris put you down.

You flinched as the saltwater wreaked devastation on your injured foot.

“I’m scared.”

“I know. it’s expected, you’re human. I need you to work through that fear though and climb down into the raft,” Chris reasoned.

You nodded and tried to get over not only the terror but also will your muscles to move through them being near frozen. You tried to move your legs in some coordination to climb over the railing but it was taking a bit of time on your own. Chris stepped closer and helped you to take the first step down the ladder. When your injured foot joined your other one it slipped and sent you down a few of them only stopping when you were able to get a grip on the metal.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

You slowly went down the remaining steps until you got to the last one and saw you’d need to jump off the railing to land in the raft. You took a few breathes, hoped that you made it in the raft and not in the ocean, and jumped. Landing on your back you couldn’t relax. It hit you that you were now in a life raft about to drift to god knows where. From above you heard the two men arguing back and forth over who should go next. When you saw Chris was the one climbing down the ladder you knew Harper had won.

It didn’t take him nearly as long as it took you. A few seconds later he’d jumped in next to you. The strong scent of gas immediately hit you.

“You smell like gas.”

Chris smelled himself then his eyes widened and pointed back to the ship. The two of you looked up just in time to see Harper bringing back up the ladder.

“What’re you doing? Come down!”

“No can do brother. This here is my ship and a captain always goes down with his ship.”

Your eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious.

“That’s not funny Harper. The gas is leaking, there is no saving it. It isn’t worth your life. Come on, there’s time for you to save yourself too,” Chris rebutted.

“I’m long past saving,” Harper said lifting his shirt to show the large shard of glass that was sticking through his abdomen. It looked like it had gone right through him. You knew that if it were removed the chances of him living were zilch.

“Oh my god,” you mewled before clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle the wail that followed.

“Harper--,” Chris began but never finished.

“I always knew I’d die on this ship and that’s all right. I’m at peace with it. If I get in that raft with you I’d be doing you a disservice. Sharks would be on your tail in no time.”

Harper flung a pack over the railing into the raft.

“I’ve already pre-packed all the emergency packs in the raft. They’re in the side compartments as well as underneath the zipped platform of the bottom. These are things you’ll need wherever you wash up.”

Another bag followed the first and landed on the raft. “This one is some rations. Remember to conserve the water. You can survive without food longer than water.”

You cried louder while using your hand to muffle as much of the sound as you could.

“Come on man,” Chris pleaded.

Four more bags followed including your backpack. By then you’d fully lost it and had ventured into a nervous breakdown.

“Inside the raft, there is a transponder. I am going to set off the homing beacon on my ship it’ll give search and rescue some idea of where things went wrong. They’ll be able to follow the signal and rescue you no matter where you are.”

Harper bent forward and groaned. He must have been in so much pain you thought to yourself. On its own, your hand gripped the ripped hem of Chris’s tank and held it tightly. Chris glanced back at you and you saw the same anguish you felt.

“I’m sorry about this folks, I really am.” He paused and shook his head before he continued. “You have each other though.”

An explosion shook the vessel and lit up the sky behind Harper.

“That’s my cue. Get outta here. I’ll do my part. Remember live your way, it makes death a peaceful conclusion.”

With that Harper hobbled away holding the railing.

“Go!”

He disappeared from view leaving the two of you sitting in the raft, in the pouring rain heartbroken and terrified. Another explosion erupted and Chris sprang into motion yanking the cord that controlled the motor startup. He yanked it once, then twice until it sparked alive on the third try. You both looked to the ship unsure what to do. The decision had been made for you, there was nothing either of you could do but go.

Slowly the raft began to drift away from the sinking ship and neither of you could peel your eyes away. Two more explosions boomed and then Harper’s voice echoed out.

“I’m coming, Angie!”

“Oh my god,” you whispered dropping your head to the surface of the raft. Your cry was loud and showcased the tragic sadness before you.

You watched on before another and final grand explosion ripped the ship apart sending parts every which way.

“Fuck!”

Chris leapt for you throwing his body over yours using himself as a shield to protect you. The sound of flying metal around you only made you scream more and more. Still, Chris didn’t come off of you, he kept his body over yours while maneuvering the rod steering of the raft. After the sound of flying metal subsided and the warmth of fire died down Chris rolled off of you. There was nothing to be seen except the fire from the explosion that was quickly being extinguished as the rest of the ship sank to the depths of the ocean.

“Oh my god, Harper.”

“God,” Chris groaned out, dropping his head down. “Rest in peace.”

There it was. Death. It was staring you right in the face and you feared it hadn’t had its fill quite yet. Your sobs returned and soon they were the only sounds traveling across the water, along with the motor. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes as you both tried to digest everything that had just happened and how everything had gone so wrong.

“What’re we going to do?”

It was a question asked just above a whisper. A question that held so much uncertainty, a question that also brought so much fear with it. What were you going to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @lo-cheu @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97 @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @builtalongthewaysi @cleothegoldfish @momobaby227 @drsunshine97

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@imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @lost- ssoull @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @perplexed3001 @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira @k347 @unknownmystery22 @raveviolet @madixii @bernie-k@nina1800 @almosttherebutnot @smediumsmeatbae @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @ak329 @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2 @marvelatthis30 @zeelmol @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @youremysuperstar @cleopatra-knowles @littlepreciousangel @alookintohersoul @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort @i-just-like-fanfics @labella420 @storiestoldbyjazz @krrose3 @jennmurawski13 @chezdricks @talley84 @ladydeathboobs @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @roseasweet @6lackfiction @earl-aive @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @msblkfire84 @helenasmirkedno @elisaboricua @maeleeme @kaiya-ch4n

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable..***

#hibiscus kisses fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #slow burn fanfic #vacation fic #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #chris evans au

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obeymeluv · 4 years ago

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Demon Baby Headcanons: A Reference for “The Baby Assignment” Project

It made more sense to post my headcanons as a single thing since I’ll be working on “The Baby Assignment” headcanons in between the “Quick! Kiss Me!” miniseries.

These will be hinted at throughout “The Baby Assignment” pieces and I just wanted to put them all together. Keep in mind these are demon baby headcanons. I don’t really have any idea about angel baby headcanons since I’m card locked in chapter 21 :/

I think I got them all. I can’t really think right now.

Warning for one headcanon about human eating (obviously discouraged in the Devildom). I wanted to put in a section about how the Devildom handles bad parents (hint: logic first, then with justice) but I wasn’t vibing with it. Didn’t do it. No worries.

Demon children are usually born small but develop quickly until they stagnate around “teenage” years. Most babies (ironically) weight at least 6 pounds. It’s VERY rare to get a smaller baby and they must be taken care of EXTREMELY well

Their eyes will open within an hour or two of delivery and will be their lifelong color

Because they’re typically raised in the darkness of the Devildom and learn to flourish in the shadows, demon babies really struggle with exposure to light. It hurts their eyes and makes them cry. They should be shielded from light until they’re about a year old or show increased tolerance. Unless they need glasses or have a birth defect, most children appear to tolerate light with no problem between 4-6 years old.

Hybrid children are an exception (and hard to record for the census given how many subspecies of demon there are and all the magical co-mingling), but full-born demon children typically nest and seek out sources of heat to stay warm until they’re able to walk, talk, and do more for themselves. They tend to attach to the warmer parent.

Devildom childcare advocates recommend swaddling the child in parents’ clothes or clothes of relatives because it keeps them warm and orients their brain to who the main family members are. Pyjamas are a suitable exception but parents and close family should make an effort to show the child their scent

Demon children latch, and not just on their milk-producing parent. Within the first month of life the tiniest baby talons come out and allows the child to latch onto the clothes/skin of their caretakers. Full demon children latch and can maintain their grip/fully support themself in moments of stress, aggravation, fear, and in moments of cuddling. It is still recommended to support the child with an arm because they will get tired. Half-demon children should be supplemented with an arm or carrying device until the full extent of their latching ability is determined

Latching is also critical to scent development. It is an instinct of the child to tuck itself into or around those that will protect them. Unless absolutely sure of their safety, they tend to latch onto the stronger parent. When they feel safe, they usually latch to the other parent or try to make a nest with both

For babies who latch or show interest in latching, being semi-naked or completely naked is recommended. Their parents’ scent is stronger and seems to be preferred this way.

Devildom children don’t really crawl. The best way it can be described is “skitter”. You’ll hear their little claws go. Most parent describe their children moving in a lupine manner, on all fours. they like to stay low to the ground and move faster than human children.

There have been reports of children climbing up cabinets, walls, and onto structures like chandeliers and fans. This is part of their hunting instinct and preps their claws for the different things they will encounter/handle as an adult.

Most demon children develop their “Devildom” vocal chords first and will define parents/family by individual growls/shrieks. If other languages are not encouraged in the household, it is not unusual for a child to stay in this stage until two or three. They typically gain muscle control/development to speak real words by they end of their first year

Devildom babies aren’t as tactile as human babies but will definitely show preferences. It’s a lot easier to figure out what a Devildom baby hates. They’ll be quick to show you.

Devildom babies purr to show contentment and can start purring within 1-2 months of birth. This is one of the first signs of affection.

Other signs of affection include petting the parent or trying to get them in a state of skin-to-skin contact (see latching, above), snuggling, headbutting, showing nesting behaviors, and gently teething on them.

Full-blooded demon children can expect to cut fangs starting at the end of the first year. They will get their first full set of fangs near age two. For children who can only inherit one set of teeth, these fangs will be with them for life. They will naturally harden and lengthen to a full adult set as the body grows.

Mixed demon children are special cases where fangs are concerned because some species have extra sets of fangs, defense mechanisms where they lose and regrow teeth, and other things of that nature. For most species, teeth are seen in the first year of life.

Fangs typically look pointy and shark-like until they get a little older (somewhere between 3-6, it varies amongst children) and the teeth start to differentiate themselves in a “human-like” smile.

Children with fangs should have a greater variety in their diet for the sake of tooth shaping and development. Fangs need to be kept sharp. They can have slightly tougher food or snacks, and may display the “kill shake” when eating. This is normal. Supplement with teething toys as needed, but keep a close eye on them. It’s best to engage them a little like a tug of war to help develop the biting instinct and lengthening of the teeth.

Tails, like fangs, do not have set rules for growth or appearance. Some children of purer lineages get them as early as 3, and some get them as they move into the teenage years. There is no set age for tail development. If the child itches their back/bottom a lot, tends to streak, and shows general aggravation or discomfort, it’s best to take them to a health specialist to see if they’re developing a tail.

It is a similar scenario for wings. The child may cry or scratch a lot. Be prepared for biting and wrestling your children into shirts. Back rubs, cold creams, and soft textures are recommended. Though VERY RARE, some children can develop their wings within the first year of life. It is more normal to see them sprout between the ages of 3-5

Should the child develop wings young, they will take on a life of their own. They will twitch and flap at random times and this is normal. This is the child’s brain working wing movement into the subconscious, just as it would breathing. Devildom children who have wings go on to move them reflexively and this is how that starts.

Keep an eye on your child. They will try to hover and may be able to pull their body weight and travel short distances (about 30 seconds) within the first year of having them. Within two or three years they will have better altitude and some sense of guiding with a bit of a struggle. Prepare to be dive-bombed “accidentally” and for things to be broken in bad landings

There have been reports of full-blooded and half-blooded Devildom children gaining night vision. You can determine if your child has this by whether their eyes grow in the dark. Remember the rule of thumb: the older the demon lineage, the brighter their eyes. If obtained, this stays with them for life. The degree of clarity varies amongst children.

Children may develop horns. All horns start out as tiny velvet nubs once they break the surface of the scalp. Prior to breaking the surface, the child may scratch at their scalp excessively, rub their heads on things, or headbutt tougher surfaces to counteract the pressure and itchiness they feel. Scratching their head or brushing their hair may help but nothing can be done until the horns breach. If the horns do not breach, take them to a healthcare facility. They may need help.

Horns should be watched closely as they start to take shape. Some shapes need to be regularly broken or shaved to prevent the child from harming themselves

Children are driven to develop their horns and may try to shave off the velvet lining by rubbing against family members or hard surfaces. This is normal.

It is not uncommon for children to try to “lock horns” with each other when younger. This is another way to shave off the lining. Some studies indicate that this type of play may make them develop faster. If one of the parents have horns, it is encouraged to do this with great care

Although not scientifically proven, the vast majority of Devildom parents swear by rubbing horns to soothe tantrums and put children to sleep. Seems to work. Interestingly, this trait carries on to later stages of life but brings a greater variety of reactions.

It is not uncommon to see growth spurts and great deals of change between the first 7-13 years of life (7-13 by human standards). After this, the demon will stagnate. Their rate of development can vary but demons live for thousands of years so it takes a very long time for signs of aging to occur

Old records suggest that feasting on human souls or the blood of other magical creatures may accelerate this process but these records cannot be confirmed.

Certain activities, such as participating in a pact, are prohibited until the child is 1,800 or older. Their magical capacity is not there and they cannot legally be bound in a pact. If a sorcerer or sorceress is pushing for a pact or you believe a pact has been made in bad faith, a grievance can be filed with the magical review board. If the other party is found guilty, a piece of them may be taken for consumption for the sake of “fairness”. Repeat offenders will be handled by Lord Diavolo (and are usually eaten. This has been “tentatively” amended due to the effort to unite the three realms)

Children who come from very powerful lineages (for example: one of the Seven Lords) may exhibit that key sin trait from a very early age. Some children will be hungrier than others, some will want more attention than others, some will be far stronger and may accidentally break things. Be prepared and parent accordingly.

Those born to succubus/incubi/naga lineages may show signs of charming or hypnotism from the age of two or when they can form sentences. If a member of your family has a natural susceptibility to this, brush up on negating spells and personal reinforcement charms.

#Obey Me!#obey me! x reader

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n0wornever · 4 years ago

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Don’t Forget - Owen Joyner x Reader

Omg can I pls request Owen x reader where they fight about not feeling important to one another maybe he missed a date and she missed a release party or something so they have a mega fight but make up later that night either cuddling in bed or soaking in silence in a bubble bath (idk if that’s specific enough for you)

This was perfect, @cherrymaybank, I hope you like it!

Also, I don’t have an Owen Joyner taglist, and I wasn’t sure if the JATP list I had would be interested in actor content, so if you want to be placed on a separate list....let me know!

Y/N tapped on the table below her as she watched the diner clock hand strike 6:30. She had been waiting for her boyfriend for over an hour and the pity milkshake the waitress gave her only did so much to sooth her disappointment. She took one more sip of the strawberry drink before her eyes were pulled back to her phone.

As she clicked on the Instagram app, she was immediately met by a video of Owen and Charlie goofing around in the airbnb they rented for the weekend. Charlie made a makeshift drumset from a couple pans in kitchen and Owen was singing off key in the background. Her finger slid a little further to see that the post had been uploaded only minutes before.

Her brows furrowed as she closed the app and turned off her phone screen. She turned to her left, unzipping her purse and rummaging through its contents. As she stumbled upon her wallet and pulled it out onto the table, she heard a soft voice reach out to her.

“Oh honey, don’t even worry about it.”

Her eyes rose to see the sympathetic smile of the kind red-headed waitress who had her hands clasped at her chest as she looked at her. Y/N’s eyes darted to the table where she’d set two pastel colored macaroons. She opened her mouth to protest, but the woman walked away, clanking her heels against the linoleum before she could even get the words out. She sighed, placing her wallet back into the bag. Her hand inched toward the treats, hesitating over the box for a moment before gripping it tightly. She zipped up the bag and threw it over her shoulder as she made her way to the exit.

When Owen still lived in the city, she wouldn’t have probably been half as upset as she was about him missing a single date. However, the blonde had been so far away from her in California for months, and this would have been the first time she’d see him before he’d jet set again in a few days back to the coast for some promotional shoots for the next season. He had plans to take the boys out tomorrow and visit his mom Sunday afternoon, so she knew this was the only day she’d be able to catch him.

She stepped out into the warm summer air, walking down the sidewalk toward her car. The sun was at its peak, causing her to squint as she walked briskly back to her car. She grabbed her keys out of her jeans pocket and pressed it into the lock. As she climbed into the driver’s seat, she weighed her options.

She could go over to Owen’s airbnb, like they planned to after dinner, or she could go home and just call him about it later. With the embarrassment of everyone in the room looking at her in that corner booth still fresh on her mind, her foggy one-track-mind chose the first option.

He had given her the address ahead of time, in case she wanted to come over before they went out that night anyway, right? Y/N’s finger tapped against the steering wheel as she pondered the situation in front of her for a moment. Owen’s time in the city was very minimal and if she didn’t confront him now, she may not get a chance to, and the anger would boil inside of her for several more months.

She shook out of her trance, placing the key into the ignition and swiftly pulled out of the lot, making her way to the boy’s place.

After a few minutes of driving, a line of similar looking townhomes came into view on the right side of the road. She flipped on her turn signal and pulled into the parking lot. She quickly looked down at her phone in her lap to confirm the building number. The third home down was her destination. As she pulled into a spot right across from the bright red door, she let out another deep breath.

She shook out her hands for a moment before turning off her car and unbuckling her seatbelt. She unzipped her purse and pulled the silver lined box out, pinching it between her fingers. She closed her eyes for a moment before finally letting herself open the door.

As she made her way to the entrance, her free hand balled into a fist and her lips fell into a thin neutral line across her mouth. She jogged up the few stairs that led to the door. She lifted her hand to press against the door, letting it drop back down to her side afterward as she waited.

It took a minute, but she finally started to hear the handle move from the the inside of the house. It finally broke free and she stood face to face with her boyfriend’s blue eyes. Owen looked over at her with a bright smile, but that shortly faded as he took in her expression. She didn’t say a word before handing over the little box to the boy, trying to ignore the fact that her hand were shaking as it move toward him. Owen’s eyebrow rose as he grabbed it from her, trying to latch onto her other hand afterward. Y/N shook from his grip and took a step back.

“I just wanted to bring you something from the diner...since you couldn’t make it,” She said, letting her eyes finally meet his.

Owen’s eyes widened as he looked at her. He shoved the box in his pocket, stepping forward toward her. As soon as his hands grabbed onto hers, she slipped right through. She chewed down on her lip before continuing her thought.

“Don’t worry about it, have fun with the boys.”

She placed her hands in her pockets and turned to walked down the stairs. She heard him call after her, but she just kept her head down as she made her way back to the car.

It wasn’t until she was sitting in the vehicle again that she let herself fully breathe. She looked out the windshield to see Owen still standing on the porch, watching her. She brought her focus back down the the steering wheel and put the car in drive. Her eyes caught his once more before she sped out of the lot.

When she finally got back to her apartment, she threw her bag by the shoe rack and made a beeline for the kitchen. She opened the freezer, rummaging through tv dinners and frozen vegetables to find a single carton with colorful sprinkles on the outside. Her arm reached into the back and grabbed the container before shutting the door and making her way to the drawer near the sink to grab a spoon.

She made her way back to the living room, falling back onto her couch. She tucked her feet underneath her and settled into the cushion. Her arm stretched out toward the table in front of her to grab the remote and pressed her on button. Clicking into her Netflix account and hit resume playing on the last episode of New Girl she was on, finally letting her back rest against the soft surface behind her.

She got through one episode before she heard a knock at the door. She grabbed her phone that sat by her side, flipping it over to see that there were no new messages waiting for her. Puzzled, she placed her spoon in the dish and set it on the table as she finally got herself off the couch to answer the door.

Unlatching the deadbolt, she pulled the door toward her. Her gaze landed on a pizza box with a little silver smaller box on top of it before they shifted up to meet a pair of blue eyes. Owen let a soft smile land on his left cheek, shaking the box from side to side.

“Hi,” He said as his eyebrows pulled to the middle of his face.

She leaned against the doorframe, letting her lips lift as well as she watched his movements.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to apologize for being a complete idiot.”

She pinched her lips together at the side of her face as she moved out of the front of the doorway, outstretching her arm to motion him inside. Owen stepped through the door, walking over to the kitchen to set down the box. As he made his way back to the living room, he stepped right in front of her, invading her personal bubble.

“Hi again.”

His hands moved toward her waist, and she let him pull her in toward him. His thumbs rubbed circles on the sides of her hips as he met her eyes. She tried her best to keep a stern look across her face as she looked up at him, causing his smile to deepen even more.

“You’re really mad at me, huh?”

“You ditched me Owen, this was supposed to be our day...” She spat, her tense worry line becoming more prominent as she spoke, hands pressed against his chest. “It was so embarrassing to sit in there alone and have everyone just watch you. The waitress wouldn’t even let me pay for my drink. She gave me these eyes.”

Y/N mocked the puppy dog eyes the red head had given her that afternoon and Owen giggled up at her. His hands traveled to the middle of her back as he pulled her even closer.

“I’m really sorry honey. I didn’t look at the clock...I...I have no excuse good enough...but I’m sorry.” He said with a sigh, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah you should be,” She said, pouting up at him.

“You should be the priority, always,” He paused for a moment, gauging her reaction. When a soft smile finally landed on her cheeks, he continued. “That’s why I told the boys to go sight-seeing without me tomorrow.”

His fingers tapped against her skin as he waited for her response. Y/N frowned up at him, leaning her head to the side.

“You don't have to to do that, I know you wanted to show the boys around the city, I can-”

He leaned down and captured her lips quickly. Her eyes closed as hers moved in sync with his. As they pulled apart, hers fluttered back open to Owen smirking down at her. He smiled down at

“Those two idiots can find their own way around, but I want to be with you tomorrow. We were supposed to have a day together, and I’m going to make that happen.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, nodding up at him. She brought her arms up to wrap around his neck, pushing against the nape of his neck to bring him back down to her level. As they parted, she brought her hand down to intertwine with his, leading him toward the couch.

She sat down first, Owen following quickly to sit on the cushion next to her. The boy placed his arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side. She let her head lean against his chest as she held the remote up to the tv and pressed play.

“I love you,” He murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss against her temple.

Her eyes lifted up to his and she finally let a wide smile grace her lips as she whispered “I love you too” back up to him.

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner x reader #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp imagines

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

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Once a Month

Colson doesn’t understand why you’re acting so strange, so you have to explain that your monthly visitor has arrived.

Request: “Hi, I love your writing! If you want to write something like that, I have a suggestion: Not to be mean but I think Colson can be really dumb/ignorant about stuff that doesn’t concern him. Idk maybe hes in a relationship with the reader and doesn’t understand stuff that comes with being a women, either period stuff or body hair stuff idk? And he hurts her with commenting about it without noticing? And please fluff in the end where he gets educated”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, talking about periods, a single sexual reference

A/N: I don’t know how this got so long...

Word Count: 2945

Having a vagina really fucking sucks sometimes. Specifically, for one week a month, when your body decided it needed to bleed out of said vagina for a whole week. No period was easy, and yours was no exception. But getting your period while living in a house with a bunch of guys, who all had dicks, was a nightmare. It seemed like no one knew what you were going through physically and emotionally. You had been on Depo-Provera since you met Colson, so you had never been on your period around him. But your doctor decided to take you off of it because your bone mineral content was getting too low. So here you were, 6 months later, and getting your first period post- birth control.

You had a more hormonal period, meaning you were constantly jumping from one mood to another. Today was your third day, and you wanted to rip your uterus out. You were sitting on the couch, curled up next to Colson as a movie played on the TV. Your cramps were killing you, so you weren’t really paying attention to anything that was happening.

You heard someone say something about a club, and you assumed they were suggesting going to a club, even though they went last night, and the night before, and the night before. And normally you would be down for clubbing with your boyfriend and your friends, but today the stabbing pain in your abdomen told you “no,” just as it had for the past few days.

All the guys had agreed, their eyes landing on you and waiting for a response. “Uh, I’m not really feeling it tonight, guys.”

Colson rolled his eyes, “you haven’t been feeling it all week.” He complained and you frowned.

“I just don’t want to go tonight.” You mumbled, a little angry that he would start an argument in front of all the guys.

“Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?” He complained, the arm that was previously wrapped around you pulled away. “You’ve been in a shitty mood all week, it’s fucking annoying.”

You bit your lip, feeling tears biting at your eyes. You weren’t sure if you were upset or angry, or both. But you knew it wouldn’t be pretty to keep this conversation going. “Whatever, have fun.” You scoffed, the anger taking over. You rolled your eyes and stood up, walking to yours and Colson’s shared bedroom. You made it just past the doorway when the tears started rolling down your face.

You closed the door behind you and shut the light off before trying to muffle your cries with the sleeve of Colson’s shirt that you were wearing. You laid down on the bed, facing away from the door in an almost fetal position. The tears didn’t stop, and all you could focus on was Colson’s anger towards you. Why couldn’t you just be a good girlfriend and go with him? Why did you have to be a buzzkill?

You heard the garage open and shut, signaling that the group had left for the club. He’s probably going to find a girl to hook up with tonight. Your brain told you, making you cry even harder.

And then you felt guilty for thinking that. Wow, you really think so low of Colson that you think he’d cheat on you. You really are the world’s worst girlfriend.

Every thought spiraled into another, until you decided to watch TV to distract yourself. It worked pretty well, your period head being happy from the dopamine you got while watching The Good Place. But, like all good things, your happy mood came to an end when you heard the garage door open hours later.

You looked at your phone, realizing it was already 3am. You had hoped to be asleep when Colson got home, but you hadn’t managed to drift off to sleep, probably because you’d taken a nap at 2pm earlier. You sighed, preparing for the mess that was about to come through the door.

And like you had summoned him; Colson came stumbling through the door of your bedroom. “Why are you still awake?” He grumbled, stripping his shirt off.

You shrugged, pausing Chidi’s rant about the ethics of truth. “Couldn’t sleep.” Colson sat on the edge of his side of the bed, tattooed back facing you, typing on his phone. The smell of alcohol and weed coming from him made you feel queasy. “You should take a shower.”

Colson stood back up, throwing his phone on the nightstand, and taking off his jeans. “I’ll take one in the morning.” You shut the TV off, laying down fully in the bed to face your boyfriend. He pulled the comforter back, climbing into the bed beside you and pulling you into his arms.

You pushed him away, the smell even worse now. Colson tsked at you, glaring at you as you scrunched your nose up in disgust. “What the fuck is your problem?” You rolled onto your side, your back facing him. “Is this because I called you a buzzkill earlier? It’s not that serious.” He rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see him, and flipped onto his back.

“It’s not but thanks for bringing it up.” You mumbled, still turned away from him. Your mind wandered back to the conversation earlier in the evening, and you got upset about it all over again.

Colson sighed, his hands moving to rub his face. “Then please, tell me what I did this time.” He sat up, flicking on the lamp beside him to light up the room. You groaned, burying your head into your pillow.

“You just smell.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He mumbled to himself, but you still heard it, “You’re mad at me because I smell?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m not mad at you, I just can’t stand the smell of you right now. It’s making me sick.” You could feel his temper rising even though you couldn’t see him. The feeling made you want to cry.

“Seriously, Y/N? What the fuck is up with you lately? You’ve been acting like a bitch all week.” Now that did make you cry. You sat up, grabbing your pillow and your phone and standing up, walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” Colson asked, more annoyed then concerned.

Colson couldn’t see your face, but he could hear your sniffle as you opened the closet and pulled down an extra blanket. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” You continued your trek to the door, pausing as your hand touched the handle, “Sorry for being such a shitty girlfriend.” You muttered, opening the door and leaving the room.

You threw the pillow onto the couch, laying down and pulling the blanket over you. Your hand came up to your mouth as you muffled your sobs again, hoping no one else in the house could hear you. Colson sat in his bed, staring at the door that you just left through with a confused expression. You’d gotten into worse fights before and you hadn’t cried then, what was so different now?

He threw his head back onto the bed, a frustrated groan leaving his mouth. He was in no state to convince you back to bed, and he knew you wouldn’t listen to him anyways, so he turned the lamp off and tried to go to sleep.

You woke up at 7 the next morning due to your cramps feeling like someone was stabbing you from inside your body. You knew you wouldn’t go back to sleep, and the pain was intense, but the only anti-inflammatory medication in the house was in yours and Colson’s bathroom, which meant you would have to go through the room to get it. And you were very determined to not go in there, assuming he was probably still mad at you. You didn’t think you could handle him yelling at you again.

But after an hour and a half of trying to distract yourself with your phone, you felt like you were gonna throw up if you didn’t take any meds. So, you dragged yourself off the couch, walking into the kitchen to grab a piece of bread (don’t take anti-inflammatories on an empty stomach y’all) and shoving it in your mouth. It wasn’t the best thing in the world to eat at 8:30 in the morning, but it would be enough to prevent the Aspirin from fucking up your stomach.

You shuffled to your room, hesitantly reaching for the door handle. You knew Colson would be asleep, but you were still shaking with anxiety. Taking a deep breath, you slowly opened the door, relaxing a bit when you saw your boyfriend sleeping. You stepped lightly, trying to be as quiet as possible as you crossed the room to the bathroom.

Once in the tiled room you shuffled through the drawers, trying to find the bottle that would magically relieve your pain. You frowned as you pulled open the fourth drawer, still not finding the bottle. You were sure you had a bottle in here somewhere.

“Babe?” Shit. Colson’s morning voice called from the bed. You peaked your head out of the bathroom, his eyes finding yours.

“Sorry, I’m just looking for the Aspirin.” You said quietly, moving back into the bathroom to continue your search.

“It’s in here.” Of course it’s in there, why wouldn’t it be in there?

You trudged out of the bathroom, finding the bottle in his hands. You flashed him a small smile, grabbing the bottle from his hands. Any thoughts of last night momentarily left your mind as you poured two tablets into your hand. “Everything okay?” Colson sat up, watching as you moved towards your side of the bed.

“Yeah.” You said, walking to your nightstand to grab the water that you keep there. You swallowed the pills, looking at Colson’s concerned face. “I’m fine, just cramps.”

Looking at his face made your heart fall. Even when you two were fighting he was worried about you. “Can we talk about last night?” You asked, realizing you needed to address your argument. Colson nodded, reaching to pull you onto the bed. You loved morning Colson; he was very cuddly.

You happily moved into his arms, your chest pressed against his back, his arms around your middle, and head resting against yours. “I’m sorry I got so upset.” You mumbled. “My hormones are making me an emotional wreck. I forgot how bad they could get.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking down at you. There was concern in his eyes, but a lot of confusion.

You tilted your head, realizing he hadn’t pieced things together. “You know, my period hormones.” He furrowed his eyebrows and you laughed softly. “Oh my god have you never experienced this with a girl?”

He frowned, “No. I thought your birth control stopped your periods?”

“Yeah, but remember I had to stop taking it a few months ago? It’s finally fully out of my system.”

He nodded, “Wait so what does your period have to do with hormones?”

You tilted your head back so your crown fell against his chest as you tried not to laugh. “You know how people always ask a girl if she’s on her period when she gets really mad or upset?” Colson nodded, his eyes trained on you, listening attentively. “Well, its because when you get your period, for the last few days leading up to it and the first few days you’re on it, certain hormone levels are low. So, you’re really sensitive emotionally. The levels raise throughout your cycle, so you get less irritable after the first few days, but its still not necessarily fun.”

“So, when I complained about you not wanting to go out…”

“I got really upset. I mean I would’ve gotten upset either way, but I probably would’ve brushed it off normally.” You laced your fingers through his. “And the reason I didn’t want to go out was because I could barely stand up, much less go out and party.”

“Wait actually?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

You chuckled a little at his childlike wonder of your period. “Yeah, even if I take medicine my cramps kill me. And I’m either really tired or really awake most of the time.”

“Where are your cramps?” He asked, and you moved his hands towards your lower stomach. “Here?” You nodded, and he started massaging the area softly, easing some of the pain. “Is that helpful or does it make it worse?” He asked.

You hummed, “very helpful.” He continued his motions and you kept explaining. “Heat also helps. I used to have a hot water bottle but I got rid of it since I wasn’t getting my periods anymore. And I haven’t felt good enough to go to the store and get another.”

He kissed the skin behind your ear, resting his head there. “You should’ve told me, babe. I would’ve gotten you one.” You shrugged, smiling at his worry. “I wouldn’t’ve been such a dick, too.” He mumbled.

You turned your body to face him, wrapping your hands around his neck, “you didn’t know, babe. It’s okay. But maybe you shouldn’t be a dick even when I’m not on my period.” You gave him a wide, sarcastic smile.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He whispered, a frown on his face. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Is there anything else I should know about your period?”

“I get really bad cravings, like chocolate, candy, salty food, literally anything. And it’s always random.”

He pecked your lips, “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and resting your forehead against his.

“Oh, and we can’t have sex.” He pulled away from you, a confused look on his face. “Babe, I’m bleeding out of my vagina. It would be really really gross.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things, right?” He tilted his head, smirking.

“Don’t ask me to blow you while I’m on my period. If I want to, I’ll tell you.” You giggled. “Seriously, this shit sucks.”

“You’re telling me.” He chuckled and you slapped his chest lightly. “I’m kidding.” He pulled you closer to him so your head was pressed against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat and it made you smile. “Whatever you need, just tell me and I’ll do it.” He mumbled; lips pressed against your hair.

You looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You could take a shower?” You asked sweetly.

He laughed, “was that a period thing too?”

You nodded, “yeah I get sick really easily. I can’t go in a car unless I’m driving because I get too nauseous. Some smells can set me off too.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey, just promise me one thing?” You looked up at him, urging him to continue. “Next time something’s wrong, tell me, please? I know you’re my soulmate and everything but I can’t read your mind.”

Your eyes widened when he said that, cheeks turning red. “You really think that?” You asked in awe.

“Of course I think that. You’re literally my perfect half. You get along with all my friends, you take care of Casie like she’s your own kid, you put up with all of my shit. I dunno, I just feel like we were made for each other.” You leaned up, pulling him in for a long, sweet kiss.

“I am so in love with you.” You whisper as you pulled away. “Like so so so in love with you.” You smiled.

He kissed you again, a smile on his face. “Oh, one more thing.” He said, and you hummed in response. “Next time we have a fight, don’t walk out on me, please? I don’t want us to go to sleep mad at each other.”

You nodded, moving your arms to take his hands in yours. “I won’t. I promise.” You whispered. “Can you promise me something?” You looked up at him, his eyes entrancing yours. “If we are fighting, can we not do it in front of our friends?”

He nodded, kissing you once more. “Promise.”

“Do you have plans today?” You asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Can we stay in bed and cuddle all day?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he broke out into a smile.

He nodded, “We can do whatever you want to do, sweetheart.” You smiled, practically tackling him back onto the bed so you were laying down, you clinging to him like a Koala bear. “I’ll send Irv and Baze to the store in a while for you.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling into his neck. “I would complain that you should do it yourself, but that would require you leaving me, and that’s not happening anytime soon.” Colson opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “except for you taking a shower. I have not forgotten.”

“Damn.”

You giggled, sticking to his chest as he sat up, trying to get out of bed. “You say you want me to shower but you’re making it impossible to get out of bed.”

“You have to be nice to me, I’m on my period.” You smiled up at him.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Fine, I guess I’ll just bring you into the shower with me.”

“I’m not complaining. But I’m just warning you I’m bloated as hell right now.”

“And yet you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst

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dancingwiththeplanets · 4 years ago

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An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter one

Boba Fett x fem!reader

chapter 2 / masterlist

Summary: Boba tries to shield you from the dark side of his life. In his eyes, you are too innocent and pure for the harsh realities of the work that surrounds him. So when one day you stumble upon a meeting gone wrong when you were supposed to be hidden away, Boba’s afraid you won’t like the pieces of him he’s tried to protect you from, or worse, that now you’ll fear him.

A/N: My first fic in like 6 years, I'm nervous! haha This is kind of an AU I think?? Takes place after the events of season 2. I’ve added in two OC Mandos to the entourage because I love me some of that tribal brotherhood devotion. Also.. considering making this a series?

Warnings: soft!Boba (like, REALLY soft!Boba) protectiveness, maybe over-protectiveness? small character death, nobody important, two new sexy mandalorians (we’ll learn about them later), not much to be honest.

Word Count: 5.7k+

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There’s a lot to Jabba’s palace that most people don’t know about. A lot’s changed since the esteemed Boba Fett took over the throne and claimed ownership over the fortress in Tatooine. Castle might actually be a better word for it. Somewhat modest and ordinary looking on the outside, the true magnitude and vastness of the castle is hidden underground, even past the comfortably sized throne room.

What lingers further down the sandstone hallways are an array of rooms and staircases, mostly leading down in different directions. There’s a library and a kitchen and even a ballroom, which never has and probably never will be put to use. There are guest rooms that are more suitably described as luxurious suites, for the grand total of zero guests that Boba will allow to stay in his sanctuary.

There are permanently standing rooms for only a handful of the staff: the maid, Ada. Fennec, of course. And the two newest members of Boba’s trusted, elite team, Enzo and Raul, who arrived shortly before you did. The two are a pair of dutiful and truly impressive Mandalorians who serve at his beck and call, courtesy of Boba Fett’s ally and only recognized leader (not that he’s ever told what to do), Mand’alor Din Djarin.

Past the staff rooms and further down an open and beautifully lit hall, is the communal area of the palace, the center, if you will. Fully equipped to socialize and entertain guests with comfortable seating, a fireplace, and charming embellishments around the room. A warm and pleasant area of the palace that likewise, does not get as much use out of it as it should.

And finally, behind the common area, which in its own way, serves as a magnificent entryway, is Boba Fett’s private chambers. Home to the respected and feared bounty-hunter turned ruler, and you, his haven.

You. His cyare. His beloved. The ruthless king had fallen in love with you and your delicate heart, seemingly untampered with and somehow not left scarred by the harsh realities of Tatooine. He saw in you light and tenderness, and you gave him joy and true unconditional love. He spent many, far too many, late nights in Mos Eisley, at the cantina you worked in as a waitress. At some point visiting you every night to walk you home at the end of your shift, though you assured him you always made it home perfectly fine on your own. But Boba secretly lived for those extra few minutes he could spend with you walking you to your residence. Not to mention, he couldn’t fathom why it didn’t scare the bantha shit out of you to be walking around Mos Eisley alone at night, unarmed. That fact that you did sure as hell scared him.

On most nights he walked you home, you invited him in, unless you were absolutely too spent to spend another moment standing. But it was on those long nights that poured into the early hours of the lovely Tatooine sunrise that you and Boba grew close and eventually professed your love for one another. Soon after, he hopefully, and quite timidly, asked you to live at his palace with him. Though you’d never been before, you knew exactly where it was, and for that matter, who he was.

The new king of Tatooine had a reputation for being ruthless, unforgiving, and dangerous. And you didn’t miss the way people cowered away from his presence, especially when he wore the armor. Though, by your own calculations, every other patron who marched their way through these lands was just as feral as the Boba Fett they all believed they knew, and not one had ever been as kind or as gentle, or captivated your thoughts, the way he did.

He knew these things. More than most in the galaxy, he knew what a cruel fate such a pure being could meet, and if truth be told, he wanted to escape with your kind soul and shield you from this harsh planet before anything could harm you.

When he asked you again to go with him, you met his hopeful and loving gaze, eyes filled with devotion and admiration, and the corner of his lips pulled up just slightly in the most endearing of grins, you couldn't help but to instantly wrap your arms around him, leave a kiss to his neck, and tell him nothing would make you happier.

“Besides,” you teased, nuzzling into his neck, “I always wanted to be a princess.”

Boba chuckled and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling your face back and tracing his thumb under your chin. “Believe me, mesh’la. You already were one.”

The next day, you found yourself and what little you owned in possessions, situating in your new home. Like everyone else, you had shockingly inaccurate presumptions about the size of the palace, soon learning that what lay hidden behind the throne room and down the sandstone halls was a modest castle to get lost in. No matter, you adjusted to your new environment and routine, though still unused to the respect and coddling you received on a daily basis, you adored every extra moment spent with your king.

Which is how now, five months later, you lay quiet and still as a mouse in bed, gazing dreamily at a sleeping Boba next to you. The early morning light casting a light blue hue over the room, as the suns hadn’t quite risen just yet. You were fortunate enough that your bedroom, the top floor to your two story chambers, was one of the few rooms in the palace with a proper window, the rest of your home and castle being underground.

A low grumble from the man next to you causes you to hold your breath, eyes not daring to leave his form as he breathes in a deep sigh. “You know,” he begins drowsily, “the moment you wake up and opt to stare at me instead of closing those lovely eyes again and getting some more rest, is the exact moment that I wake up too.”

“You don’t have to wake up,” you smile teasingly.

“I can’t help it.” He grumbles, eyes still shut heavily against the apples of his cheeks. “If you’re up, I’m up.”

“For all you know,” You retort, “I’ve been staring at you, awake for hours.”

At this, Boba’s unimpressed gaze turns to you, eyes now latched onto yours. “You haven’t been.” He says.

“And how would you know?” You giggle back, “I haven’t moved a hair. I woke up facing you, and didn’t move anything but my gaze. So unless you can detect the vibrations from my blinking, you couldn’t know.”

“I know.”

It’s your turn to look unimpressed, “How?”

“Because,” He leans in close to you, your noses lightly touching and a devilish look in his eyes, “If you’re up, I’m up.”

“Mm.” You hum unconvinced, eyes fluttering closed as he leaves a kiss to your nose then pulls away to sit at the edge of the bed. You follow his form as he stretches to a stand, joints popping as he twists his back and arms around, the result of a body having gone to war and back countless times. You sit up tiredly and lean against the headboard, watching him pull on his under armor, then latching on the Beskar. Piece by piece his body is decorated with more intimidating and handsome armor, slowly shielding your eyes from the scarred but lovely body of his that you admire possibly a little too much.

“You stare any harder and I might decide to take it back off,” Boba quips, a smirk rising on his cheeks.

You blush, shaking your head and looking away, gaze now pointedly out the window.

“Mesh’la,” He says, grabbing your attention again, his hands now occupied tugging on his gloves as he takes a few strides towards you. He smiles at the pink tint to your cheeks and your guilty smile, the remains of having been caught admiring him still plastered on your face. “I have important business to attend to today. But I’ve arranged for those workers to come and paint the library in a couple hours, would you mind overseeing it?”

He lifts a hand to lightly brush his thumb along your cheek, looking down upon you quizzically.

“Of course.” You nod eagerly. You've slowly been tending to every inch of the palace, erasing all remnants of the Hutt’s and adding in touches of comfort and warmth wherever you can. You wouldn’t say decorating is a passion of yours. But this is your home now, you might as well fill it with things you admire. Plus, Boba said if you didn’t take over the project, he’d just paint everything grey and toss out the old furniture without replacements.

You shiver as you untuck yourself from your velvety comforter. For a fortress built on possibly one of the hottest planets in the Outer Rim, this place can get cold. Probably due to the fact that it’s rooted so deeply underground.

Happy to have something to do, you head to the fresher for a quick wash before Boba leaves to his duties. You exit your chambers together, Enzo and Raul already waiting in the common area for you both. Upon seeing them, you turn and leave a gentle kiss to the cheek of Boba’s helmet for a final moment of private intimacy before you descend the staircase, hearing him chuckle fondly at your action as he follows.

“Good morning Fett, my lady.” Enzo bows lowly, turning to you. You laugh and shove his shoulder upon reaching the pair of them. You can hear the hint of amusement in his voice as Raul shakes his head beside him.

“Good morning gentlemen.” You smile.

Boba huffs coming to stand beside you, “Gentlemen.” He scoffs at your words.

Raul clears his throat, “Crane should be here soon, boss.” He says, visor trained on Boba and arms crossed over his chest, gaze briefly turning towards you before meeting the boss again.

You look towards your partner, “Your meeting today?” You ask.

“Yes.” He says, giving a quick nod.

“Alright,” You say, glancing at the suspiciously still trio of Beskar-clad men, “I’m going to the kitchens to have some breakfast. Then I’ll meet up with those workers in the library.”

Boba nods again, confirming your agenda.

You stare up at him, waiting for him to sputter out whatever it is you know he’s wanting to say.

“...Then,” You go on, “I guess I will, do some reading or...baking or...stare at the wall or something.”

“Sounds like a riveting afternoon,” Raul says after a more than comfortable silence.

“Okay,” you smile, chuckling a little and taking a step back, choosing to dismiss yourself now before the awkwardness has a chance to develop. “Have fun with Mr. Crane.”

Boba clears his throat as you turn towards the kitchens, stopping you with a hand on your arm. “Mesh’la,” He says, glancing pointedly at Raul and Enzo, who move to wait for him a few paces away. “Could you do me a favor?”

You tilt your head suspiciously, urging him to go on. “You’re acting rather strange Boba Fett.” You tease.

He grunts, “I’ve had a lot of trouble with Calendei Crane. He’s not a very loyal man, nor do I consider him a good one. He’s had a lot of chances to make up for the problems he’s caused me, but recently he went too far, and we’re not going to be having a charming reunion just now.” He sighs, “What I’m trying to say is... he didn’t necessarily come here by his own accord. And he won’t be very happy that he is.”

“I understand.” You nod.

Boba frowns inside his helm. I don’t think you do cyare.

“Alright then,” he says, “That said, I would really appreciate it if you would stay away from the throne room today. At least until I send Fennec or Enzo for you or something.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his hand opening and closing nervously by his side. He thinks you don’t know what he means. Oh Boba.

You reach for his hand as you step closer to his form. “Boba,” you whisper, leaning up towards him with a small smile, “You are the most kind and gentle man I’ve ever known. But I know that you are a man of business and principles. You do whatever you have to do. If an employee of yours is out there making a mess under your name, I would expect nothing less than for you to handle it.” You say, hoping to reassure him.

You raise your free hand to rest against the cheek of his helmet, “But I’ll busy myself back here until you’re done.”

He lets out a sigh in relief, hand reaching up to grab yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.” He says, before tenderly tapping his forehead against yours and turning to get on with his day.

You shake your head at his retreating form. Despite all of the darkness and dirt and the scum that surround Boba in his everyday life, he really does try everything in his power to not let it touch you. It’s almost as if despite the late night confessions and raw conversations you two have shared about your lives don’t translate to reality for Boba. As if he somehow believes you don’t truly know what it is that he does and who he is.

He seems to forget that you yourself have grown up with the same scum that populate this planet. In the nearest city to here in fact, where all the mudscuppers of the galaxy would stay and wreak havoc when this was once Jabba’s palace. You’ve seen things. You’ve experienced things. Some things that, shamefully, you haven’t yet shared with Boba. But what you can say with the utmost of certainty is that you know exactly the kind of people that like to deal in underworld business. And you know that there are many cruel beings out there. But Boba, he certainly isn’t one of them.

You sigh, turning to pass through the empty dining hall to the kitchens. The light tapping of your shoes echoing in the desolate space. A part of you wishes you had said to him, ‘Oh Boba, when will you learn that you don’t need to protect me from yourself?’

A necessary conversation for another time, you decide.

Shaking away your thoughts, you wander into the kitchen, making yourself a quick breakfast and giggling a while with Ada, as she begins preparing a stew for all staff members taking up a residency in the palace. She often prepares meals in substantial quantities, making enough for herself, you, Boba, Fennec, and the two other Mandalorians to all enjoy in your respective chambers.

“Take some of these to go dear!” She calls out, chasing after your form as you exit the kitchen. “You had better be eating a balanced diet.” She chides, handing you a towel with some berries on it.

“Thank you Ada,” you smile, leaving a peck to her cheek and making your way to the library.

When you arrive, the workers still aren't there, and you hum glancing at the clock. They should have already been here and working at least for an hour by now.

Expecting their arrival soon, you busy yourself with cleaning dusty bookshelves and making piles of the previous inhabitants' furnishings and decorations you’d rather not have.

You plop down on the floor after sorting through your ninth bookshelf, sighing after attempting to categorize everything by genre. Even opting to make a pile of books to get rid of, because really, nobody needs handbooks on slave trading and dealing in the dark business of the underworld. They’re just not something you’d like in your home.

You glance at the time again. “What on Tatooine.” You mutter, stretching to a stand. You’ve officially been bailed on, because you've been sitting in this dingy library for four hours and if nobody’s shown up yet, you doubted they would be.

Looking around at the mess you’ve made, you decide to finish tackling this task tomorrow, and head back down the hall towards your private chambers.

You pause to lean against the wall with your eyes closed, letting out a great yawn. It’s barely past noon and you’re already beat.

A voice calls your name just in front of you, startling you in the dark, candlelit hall.

“Ada!” You jump, with a hand to your chest.

“Mm, I’m sorry sweet one.” She frowns. “You had better go check on your Mandalorian.” She says sternly, wagging a finger up at you. “He sounds angrier than a farmer whose fresh crops have been raided by Tuskans.”

You furrow your eyebrows at her words, frowning. “Does he sound alright?” You ask, concerned.

“Too riled up.” She chides, shaking her head as she continues to pass you in the hall, grabbing a hold of your arm “Go straighten him out, lecture him on that temper of his.”

“Ada,” You sigh, “He’s dealing with a trying issue right now, and I promised that I’d stay away from this meeting.”

“Peh,” She waves her hand in dismissal, “Fine, your decision. But I did see a couple of those workers you were waiting on looking rather frightened up in the throne room. Go on and fetch them and get on with your project. You left quite a mess in there for me to deal with.”

“What?” You look disbelievingly at her, “Well why didn't you just send them my way. I waited all morning for them.”

She shakes her head, looping her arm through yours as you continue walking side-by-side. You roll your eyes at the nerve.

The sound of sudden, unmistakable shouting, coming from much further down the hall and up the stairs ascending to the throne room stops you instantly. Your eyes widen a bit as the voice carries on, rather menacingly. You wouldn’t want to be the one receiving the tail end of that conversation. Boba truly does sound pissed. You wonder how long he’s been with this Crane fellow.

“Ada,” you whisper, the lower tone seeming appropriate, “Don’t you go trying to get me into trouble.” You say, pulling her back as she tries to urge you forward.

“Young lady,” She scolds, looking up at you in a surprisingly threatening way. “I have much work to do. I need my good broom which I left up those stairs, and you need your painters or carpenters or whatever it is those fellas up there are. So, let us ladies get on with our business and fetch our things.”

“If you’re already heading up,” You say through slightly gritted teeth, “Then why don’t you just go up there, grab your broom, and do me the favor of nudging down my workers while you’re at it.”

“Because I have a bad leg. Now either accompany me up stairs so that I don’t fall or go on and get those things for the two of us at last!”

“Maker, Ada fine!” You say, losing your temper. A part of you knowing she was just stirring up trouble. You start up the first step and turn to her with an obvious empty threat. “And I’ll be sure to note to Boba that our maid has a bad leg leaving her incapable of climbing our palace full of stairs.” You mutter disbelievingly.

“Mm, you do that.” She counters.

You sigh, shaking your head as you quickly make your way up, hearing Ada walk away behind you.

That woman knows far too well that we would never replace her, you think.

Your focus shifting back to the surprisingly silent throne room just up and down the hall, you walk wearily, suddenly a little nervous.

You notice as you near the room, your steps silent down the hall, that there is a hushed but heated back and forth taking place.

“-swear Mr. Fett I-I d-didn’t know they were-”

“-What?” You hear Boba’s ominous voice interrupt. “You didn't know what?”

His form comes into view as you peek your head into the room, watching him descend the steps of his throne and approaching the accused slowly. You take a half step back, hoping to further hide your position, seeing as before, you were concealed behind his back. But given his new stance, the flicker of his gaze upwards and Boba would be met with your sinful and curious eyes.

Raul, you note, leans comfortably against the wall across the room behind Boba, observing the scene from afar, but seemingly more interested in fixing a mechanism on his Westar-35.

Fennec, who, based on the fearful gaze he glances up at her with, was obviously the one to retrieve Crane, staring down at him with a daring look in her eyes, as if challenging him to try and escape this situation. Enzo stands on Crane's other side, blocking most of your view from the accused and his state. You also note that there is no such broom or fearful workers around. Ada.

“Mr. Fett-” He whimpers.

“Sod it.” Enzo growls, raising his weapon to shove against Crane’s neck, hushing his pleas instantly.

You observe the creature as best you can from your corner. You don’t want to peer out any further for fear of alerting Boba of your presence. He wasn’t human, but not terribly strange looking, a blue being, probably a humanoid, but with claws for nails that were certainly not cute. He’s on his knees, head bowed forward in obvious shame and fear, and hands tied firmly behind his back. This guy looks like he’s had a pretty bad couple of days, but you still can’t tell if you feel sorry for him or not.

Boba reaches Crane in the center of the room, and in a manner so menacing and calculated, that exerts a level of dominance that frightens even you, he crouches down on his heels, meeting Crane eye-level.

Boba slowly pulls his blaster out of its holster and lifts it to Crane’s ducked chin, using the barrel to tilt Crane’s face up to meet his.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel yourself running out of air.

“You didn’t know what Crane?” Boba repeats in a tone so hushed you could barely hear. “That you were selling information to an enemy of mine? That you were betraying the trust that I had put in you? That you stole my property, weapons, and money to give to people who wish to do me harm?”

You can’t help but to feel anxious and on edge. Knowing very well you are not supposed to be in here observing the scene in front of you. Wondering if at this point, you should even try to make your silent leave.

Crane, seemingly breathless, and having accepted his fate, nods in defeat. “I’m sorry Boba.” He whispers.

“You violated the terms of our agreement Crane.” Boba says, rising up and adjusting his belt. “I gave you opportunity after opportunity to make it right. I told you that this was your final chance. I even gave you the kriffing option to leave!” He finally shouts.

You watch his chest heaving in rage as he continues to stare down at a defeated Crane.

Boba scoffs, “What did you expect would happen?”

The crippled man on the floor does what you least expect, his gaze lazily lifting up to meet Boba’s as he chuckles carelessly, his laugh soon transforming into a truly mad howl.

He looks like an absolute maniac.

Your eyes furrow in extreme discomfort as you watch the dramatic change in scene, and despite the obvious upper-hand that Boba has, you feel the urge to stand between him and this disturbed creature.

“I-I guess,” Crane breathes out between spouts of laughter, “I held out hope. Hope that the famous Boba Fett, oh-” he croaks out another laugh, “I’m sorry, that the-the King of Tatooine, would finally meet his demise like he should have all those years ago in the sarlacc. Oh, Boba, we were all so pleased when we thought you’d met the maker that day, but you...you son of a nerf herder, you lived. And WHY should you get to live while the rest of us died off! TELL ME BOBA FETT! Because you know something? You of all beings do NOT get to cheat death. You think you’re better than the rest of us, trying to make amends for your crimes against nature? Against the galaxy?”

Crane leans his head forward nearly slamming it against the ground as he violently spits out, “-No, no, no, no old friend. You are the worst, most foul kind of scum to EVER have walked these lands. You are no worse than Jabba, don’t you kid yourself. And if I have played any part in your demise, I’ll have avenged my brothers who have died at your hand. Your end is coming Boba Fett! You will fall, and so will anyone who tries to prevent your end!” He carries on, doubling over while spitting out the most ludicrous threats between maniacal laughter.

A wave of pure fear plunges your heart, leaving a sickly feeling in your gut at his words. You don’t even realize that your longing to protect Boba has unconsciously pulled your body a few steps in his direction. Your error not evident to you until Raul moves from across the room, capturing your attention. You glance at him only to see the gaze of his visor already locked onto yours and his body making quick strides towards you.

“Boss-” Raul says hurriedly, but not before a shot rings out, causing you to jump and gasp, hands flying up in front of you in instinctual defense.

You open your eyes and turn your head to face Boba just as his gaze snaps in your direction. Even with the visor covering his face you can see he’s taken aback by your presence. His arm lowers quickly with his blaster, holstering it. Everyone’s attention seems to be on you.

Nobody moves for a moment, and still frozen, your gaze flicks down to the dead being, monster, who lays thankfully slain on the floor.

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you avert your gaze back up to Boba, whose arm shifts nervously at his side.

“Ner- ner cyare.” He whispers, his tone strained and unlike you’ve ever heard before.

You take a step towards him, but don’t go much closer when Enzo shifts to exist as a barricade between you and the bloody mess to Boba’s side.

“What are you doing here?” He says, seeming to struggle with every word.

“I-I can’t remember.” You say after a beat, nervous again suddenly that you’ve poked your nose into business you told him you’d stay away from.

He stands frozen, panicked behind the harsh mask of his visor. His absolute worst fear being realised as you stand in the aftermath of an execution he himself carried out, right in front of your eyes.

Cruel. Unforgiving. Dangerous. Vile. Sadistic. Merciless.

All words he imagines were running though your sweet mind behind those wide eyes.

“Boba.” you utter, taking another step towards him, hesitating at first then succumbing to your hearts needs and taking up a speedier pace.

Your hands, which at some point started shaking, matching your more obviously quickened heart rate, raise up slowly to rest on his chest, and you swear he flinches at the contact.

“Cyare-” He mutters again, heart beating undoubtedly twice as fast as your own, fear and desperation clinging to the word, but he stops when your suddenly tear-filled eyes meet his gaze and you cling to the sides of his helm.

“Boba, are you okay?” You whisper frantically.

At that, he lets out a shaky exhale, body loosening and head tilting slightly at your words.

“What?” He asks, stunned.

“Are you alright?” You say, searching desperately through the dark visor of his helm for his warm, brown eyes.

“Am...am I okay?” He repeats.

“Yes I-I heard everything he said.” You stutter, head turning to meet the deranged creature's corpse covered in his own blood before Boba finally and frantically grabs a hold of your cheek to gently avert your gaze away from the scene. “He-he was absolutely maniacal.” You let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry I came but I-I heard shouting and A-Ada said something I can’t even remember what but I ended up here somehow and please don’t be mad but maker I just didn’t expect this-” you pause, tempted to glance at the corpse again but your cheek stays steadied in Boba’s hand, “-this monster to be here, threatening you and maker I know you’re alright, you’re always alright, but I desperately wanted to be standing between you and him to do anything to shield you from his threats I-”

“-Mesh’la.” Boba says, more of his confidence appearing in his voice and his movements but still weary nonetheless.

“Are you okay?” You repeat desperately, cradling his helmet firmly in your hands again.

“I’m-yes. Yes mesh’la, I’m alright.” He stutters out, “Are-are you not afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you?” You breathe out, taken aback. “Never, Boba. I-I could never fear you.”

Boba’s completely stilled in your arms. It feels like hours, your wide eyes looking at him with that familiar tenderness and devotion. You almost forget about the other’s, standing completely motionless around you, until Boba suddenly turns you and urges you forward with gentle hands on your waist, his form practically shielding you, quite fruitlessly, from the scene he guides you away from.

When you reach the hallway, he allows you to pull him next to you instead, as he opens the door to the closest chamber in sight and ushers you into it, closing the door behind you both.

The dimly lit room casts a warm glow on you both as you turn to face Boba, whose back is slumped up against the closed door. He heaves in slow, heavy, deep breaths.

You stand, unmoving, only a few inches from him. Gaze locked on his visor, you wear a concerned expression on your face, your own breaths silent but speedy as you wait for him to explain his behavior.

He finally says your name, both his palms rising in a pleading request for you to take them.

You place your hands gently in his, and he cradles them to his chest, looking down at them. So small and clean and innocent in his dark gloves that carry the stains of countless victims.

You hold your breath when you hear a choked sob escape from his modulator. Your mouth falls open a bit, eyes flitting down to where he stares at his hands caressing your own.

“Boba?” You mutter.

As if prompted by your voice, a more obvious sob falls from Boba’s lips, and his hands release your own, finding purchase on your hips as he falls to his knees before you.

You gasp out a breath of disbelief as you watch your partner, your warrior, your Boba, cling to your waist. Silent sobs shake his body as he hesitantly pulls his hand from you and places it under the lip of his helmet, tugging the armor off and letting it topple to the floor beside you.

Tears spill down Boba’s face, following the same trail left behind by the first few that managed to fall. You grasp his face in your hands, thumbs sweeping across his cheeks and erasing the tears that slid down his scarred skin.

Your vision blurs as your own eyes well with tears. “My love,” You whisper, “What’s wrong?”

His forehead tightens and brows furrow, making him look like he’s in pain. “Mesh’la I-” he stops to compose himself, his eyes looking down though you hold his face in your palms. “You- you do not fear me?”

“I could never Boba.” You assure him, you voice cracking as you say the words. “I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone in my life. You...being with you, makes me feel safer than I ever thought I could feel.”

Your hand leaves his cheek to smooth out the worried lines on his forehead, and you bring your index finger under his chin, urging him to look up at you. “That creature, monster, whatever he was,” You start, “He was disloyal and foul and cruel. He wanted to hurt you. Which means he wanted to hurt me. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you. You’re my everything Boba.”

He stares up at you, vulnerable, more unsteady than you’ve ever seen him, but you go on, “I know who you are Boba Fett. I know that you were a bounty hunter. I know that now you rule the underworld and that sometimes you do unpleasant things. I know that you have regrets and I know that you have a past. I have one too. But most importantly, I know that you are a good man, worthy of my trust. And I will stand by your side every day for as long as you want me here, because I love you. My mind, my body, my soul,” you whisper, tears flowing down your own cheeks now, “-they’re yours Boba. All of me is yours.”

Tears well in his eyes again as you speak, but he doesn’t hide from you as he frowns against the tears threatening to spill again. “I love you so much.” He confesses almost fearfully.

You reach down to unlatch his hands from your waist, though you’re met with mild resistance, before you kneel to be level with him. You lean forward slowly and kiss him, passionately and desperately and devotedly. He cups your face in his hands, pressing you to him as close as he can before releasing you.

“You,” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours with closed eyes, “You are too pure for this galaxy. An angel living amongst demons.”

“And I suppose you think you’re a demon?” You shake your head, smiling at the absurdity of it.

“Me?” He grins, “A fallen angel? Most definitely.”

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #jabbas palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader

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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

Text

Last Night on the Plain

Summary; As an archeology student at the end of your first year of University, you spend the summer on a dig in the South of England. Throughout the whole dig you’ve lusted after the site-lead; a fresh out of his doctorate Dr Cavill, assigned to the dig to get some leadership experience. Will the last night you spend on Salisbury Plain be one to remember?

(This fic is a prequel to my multichapter story Superior Specimen it can be read alone but contains spoilers for that story) Links for Superior Specimen: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Pairing: Grad Student Henry Cavill x 19 year old Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Mutual Pining, Professor/Student Relationship, Oral Sex, Blow Job, Fingering, Unprotected Sex. SPOILERS FOR Superior Specimen.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you will get an alert every time i post a new fic.

Please check out my AO3 for masterlist.

Last Night on the Plain

Sitting on the kerb outside Iceland, the little town of Warminster was quiet on a Saturday afternoon. The Land Rover would soon be coming through to pick you and your friends up, the dig site lead having driven a few of you into town to collect supplies for the last night of the six week long dig.

Six weeks of living in tents, running to the nearby stream to dive into the Watercress filled waters and wash, rinsing your underwear in a bucket and hanging over guy ropes of the tents and hoping the cows in the next field over don’t lean over the fence and eat them, six weeks of celebrating the end of your first year of University.

You loved Archaeology, having studied hard for your A-Levels at college, you got the grades to go to Southampton University to study it. The dig would contribute towards your yearly grade, teaming up with other uni’s from around England, the excavations on the far west of Salisbury Plain in the south of England, and the project was to uncover settlements from when the giant pillars of Stonehenge were moved from their starting point in Wales and anything from the trade routes over the following millennia.

Your friend nudged you in the ribs, nodding to the vehicle heading towards the three of you;

“Hey hey, here comes Cav”

“Dibs on shotgun” you blurted out, your friends groaning at your speed at calling the front seat.

Standing, the three of you watched as the site lead pulled up to the kerb, his big smile at seeing you misfits waiting for him made your stomach do a little flip. He brought the Land Rover to a bumpy halt at the kerb, leaving the engine running as he got out and helped load the supplies into the back, reaching the front passenger door just in time to hold it open for you. You missed the way he looked at your ass as you climbed in, shutting the door after you.

The ride back to the dig site was bumpy; 30-year-old Land Rovers weren’t known for their comfort, the lack of seatbelts in the vintage vehicle not helping as the country roads and tracks were littered with potholes. You were painfully aware of the way your breasts were bouncing around, having foregone bras within the first week of the dig. They pinched and prodded you as you bent over excavating for hours on end and became an unnecessary addition to have to bother keep washing by hand.

On one particularly vicious bump you were bounced across the narrow bench seat, grabbing at Cav’s leg before you ended up headbutting the steering wheel. He apologetically smiled at you;

“Sorry…”

“S’ok”

You rode in silence for a while, the pair in the back deep in discussion about the merits of getting an upgrade from their Sony Ericsson’s to Blackberries. Finally your seatmate spoke;

“So, pink, huh Punk?”

You pulled at a strand of hair, holding it out from your head and grinned;

“The Sun-In turned it orange. Orange isn’t my colour”

“I left you in town for forty five minutes… how did you have time to dye your hair?” he said with a grin.

“It’s Cherry flavour Panda Pop. We stood in the alley behind Ladbrokes and poured a bottle over my hair”

He laughed, his toothy grin wide and genuine;

“That explains the smell”

“Hope you’re referring to the cherry and not the alley”

His face paled and he stuttered, before you grinned and gave his thigh a squeeze;

“I’m teasing”

He smiled and turned his attention back to the road, concentrating on the journey now that the paved roads had finished and it was now dusty tracks across the farmland. You watched as he steered the vehicle, and you knew he was going to be your only regret of the summer. Dr Cavill, or Cav as everyone called him on site, fresh having finished his doctorate in Palaeontology, but desperately in need of some leadership skills and experience on how to run a site dig. He was cute. Tall and fit, gorgeous blue eyes and high cheekbones, both of which were regularly hidden by his mop of soft chestnut brown hair. When he was deep in concentration he would nibble at his lip and it only made them plumper.

You were so in your little dream world that when he made the sharp right hand turn into the field the dig was in you lost your grip, your hand sliding from its spot on his thigh to in between his legs, your head low on his stomach;

“Oh!”

He slowed the Land Rover as you scrambled back to your seat, his cheeks flushed and pink.

“Sorry…”

The campfire was down to its last embers, the sun almost fully set. It was the last night of the dig and you were all celebrating. The finds had been fantastic, everything catalogued and recorded, friendships hatched and grown, sunburn peeling away to reveal soft skin, leave-in bleach hair sprays and nights of passing around a three litre bottle of White Lightning - the cheapest by volume cider you could find. Cav had excused himself to his tent, not often joining the students for the latter parts of drinking, and the nights argument was whether or not it was too late to walk the three miles to the Red Lion pub in Heytesbury.

“You guys go. I’m gonna take one last look at the north end trench, see if i can find my amethyst necklace I lost last week”

“Punk, you’re drunk, it’s getting dark too!”

“I’m not drunk, I’ve had a few sips of Cider, and I’ve got a head torch”

“Fine, suit yourself”

Brushing through the sandy soil you were yet to find your necklace, but as the friction under the brush suddenly changed you looked closer, smiling when you saw what was revealed.

Minutes later you stood at his tent, calling out;

“Cav? I’ve found something…”

He appeared in the doorway, the camping lantern illuminating his tent as it sat on the table where he would write his notes and inspect finds;

“Hey! What have you…” he saw the shards of pottery you were holding in your hands, his eyes going wide; “You found the last parts?”

Nodding you smiled. Throughout the dig the team had discovered finds from multiple era’s, and one he’d found was the majority of shards from a Roman Pot, an urn that would have been used to carry Olive Oil all the way from the southernmost parts of the Roman Empire. You knew that it had been frustrating him that all his attempts to reassemble the urn had failed, the missing pieces seemingly integral to the structure.

He pulled the tent flap to the side for you to enter, setting the pieces down onto the table before straddling the bench that sat beside it. Cav came over and grabbed the tray that held the other parts, a ball of blu-tack nestled in the corner;

“This is amazing! It looks like all the missing pieces are here!” he turned to you, his eyes shining bright in the glow of the lamp; “I thought you all were going to the pub?”

“I stayed… I wanted to have one last search for my necklace I lost last week”

“Oh… did you find it?”

“No. But this is so much better! C’mon, I wanna see if we can get this to fit together now!”

His long legs meant he could step over the bench with ease, sitting down next to you and you watched as he started to push the pieces together, cradling them in his large handspan. Softening the blu-tack he pulled a little off and applied it to the edge of a piece, angling his arm at an awkward angle, cursing under his breath;

“Could you…”

“Sure” taking the piece from him he held the fragile urn in both hands as you bent over his arms and stuck it into place, moving onto the next piece, this time near his hand furthest from you.

Due to the angles you were struggling to see, before you spoke quietly;

“Lean back a little”

He did as you asked, extending his arms to full stretch as he held the artefact, letting out a squeak of surprise as you tucked yourself under one arm, shuffling to straddling his lap and sit;

“Okay, now I can see what I’m doing…” you muttered as you pushed your ass back against him, the whole thing completely innocent, but you were unaware of the look of panic on his face, how he was afraid he was going to crack a tooth from gritting his jaw, willing his dick not to get hard.

He was now rendered to simply holding the urn in place, he was unable to concentrate, however you had taken over the placement of the new pieces, slotting them into their gaps, the blu-tack holding them secure. As you slid the final piece in you sat back, resting your back against his chest, smoothing your hands over his as you both took in the piece of pottery that dated back two millennia;

“It's stunning…” you muttered.

He softly brushed his thumbs over the sides of your hands, and you felt the warm puff of breath on your neck as he spoke;

“So are you…”

You let out a breathy sigh, your back arching and you could feel he was hard, the bulge against your ass pressing incessantly against you. Resting your head against his shoulder you turned your head and his lips caught your own. The world stopped and you saw stars as those soft pink pillows caressed your lips, moaning into his mouth and he took the chance to slip his tongue against yours.

Somehow the two of you managed to gently rest the delicate artefact back onto the tray in the midst of your fledgling passion, his hands intertwining with yours, fingers laced together as his tongue worked magic with your own.

When you broke the kiss you were gasping for air, his mouth finding your neck as he kissed along your exposed shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth dragging against your skin and making you moan;

“Oh… oh fuck… yes…”

He stopped for a moment, his hands still entwined with yours but he wrapped his arms around your body;

“Tell me to stop… tell me this is wrong, I’m your supervisor…”

“It’s the last night… let’s give ourselves this night… Just promise not to fall in love with me…”

“It may be too late for that already” he murmured against your skin, but you were lost in the haze of lust to comprehend his words.

Your hands finally parted, his slipping beneath your strappy t-shirt, yours reaching back to curl into his hair as his tongue danced patterns over your neck again. You were writhing on his lap, lost in the moment when suddenly the bench tipped, the two of you falling back and landing on the ground.

You moved first, rolling off before turning and straddling him, leaning over to catch his lips with your own as you ground your clothed core against the bulge in his tented shorts;

“I’ve wanted to feel you between my thighs for the last six weeks” you muttered against his earlobe, pressing kisses to his jawline as his hands found your ass and pulled you firmly down onto his body; “The amount of times I’ve gotten myself off in silence as I thought about sneaking into your tent…”

He could only let out a guttural moan, and as your hands found the edge of his t-shirt you parted so you could strip him of it.

You sat back, pressing yourself down harder against his growing erection as you admired his smooth and pale chest, the tiniest crop of hairs right in the centre, delicate muscle definition but still slim and athletic. You watched his face as you trailed your fingers down the length of his long body, finally brushing against the thin trail of hairs that led from his navel into his shorts. You shifted back a little, unfastening the button on his Khaki shorts and unzipping him, reaching into his underwear and grasping his hot length before pulling him free of the cotton confinements.

Bending you took him into your mouth, sliding your tongue over his hot flesh as you swallowed around him, bobbing your head up and down. His hands found your head, pressing gently to tell you the speed he liked, a string of curses falling from his lips as you rapidly drove him to the brink of pleasure. It didn’t take long until he let out an ‘uh-oh’ and you slid a hand up his stomach, his own grasping at it as he started to cum in your mouth. You swallowed all that he gave you, his back arching as he thrust up into the warm comfort between your lips, before his body went limp.

Pulling off him his hands gripped at your arms, pulling you up his chest until you were laying on top of him;

“You’ll need to give me a moment… then I’ll be right with you…”

You grinned and pressed a kiss to his bite swollen lips before standing, and he pushing himself up to rest on his elbows, a look of panic on his face before you grinned at him;

“Chill… just getting more comfy…”

You pulled your top off and dropped it to the ground, unfastening your combat shorts and let them fall too, kicking off your flipflops before you were standing there in just your knickers, your thumbs hooked over the sides before he finally spoke;

“I want to be the one to take those off…”

He quickly stood and pulled you over to the double air mattress he had in his tent, watching you lay back against his sleeping bag as he stripped himself of the rest of this clothing. As he climbed on he crawled up your body, and it was then that you saw the tiniest patch of brown in the sea of his blue eyes. You were mesmerized by it as he lay over you, your legs parting as he rutted against you, already growing hard again. He moved to your side and slid a hand down the length of your sternum, over your soft stomach and into your underwear, feeling how the thin cotton was soaked through with your arousal. Sitting up he pulled the ruined scrap of fabric down your legs, looking at your soaked petals as he parted them with his long fingers, finding your sensitive nub and rubbing delicate circles against it, before sliding his hand down and pushing two fingers into your soaked hole;

“Fuck… you feel so tight…”

“I need you… I need you inside me…”

“I don’t… I don’t have any protection…” he looked pained to admit what could be the stopping point of the night.

“I’m on the pill… been taking it continually so I didn’t get a period whilst on the dig…you can go bare…”

His eyes went wide, he’d had a number of lovers over his years at University, and he was well into his mid 20’s, but he had always used condoms, never wanting the girl to have to take the responsibility for their tryst… he had never gone bare but just at the mere thought of sliding into your heat, to feel your hot wetness against his skin, it made him as hard as a rock.

He scissored his fingers inside you before shifting, pulling them from you as he positioned himself between your thighs, the light from the lantern casting long shadows over your bodies. He rested his tip against your folds, taking a moment to lick your juices from his fingers, then with a smirk he started to press into you.

With each passing inch your eyes fluttered shut, not realising you were missing the look on his face as he found heaven between your legs. The feel of your pussy around him was almost suffocating, hugging him so tight as he slid in with ease from your arousal;

“Oh my god… you feel so fucking good… you’re gonna have to tell me how you like it, cos’ I don’t think I’m going to last long…” he muttered.

Wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongues whilst your body grew accustomed to his impressive length inside you, the biggest you had ever taken;

“Hard and fast, I was made to be broken… break me…”

At your words something changed in him, pushing his body onto his arms as he started to rut into you, watching your juices shine on his dick as he pulled out, only to slam back in as your body took every inch of him, your silken channel hugging him tight. The tent was filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, and knowing you were the only ones on site your voices rose, your moans filling the night sky.

Your body was bucking beneath him, shaking from pleasure and he could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer. He desperately wanted to feel you come around him, pushing a hand between your bodies he rubbed furiously at your clit, feeling your body tighten and your back arch, and as you came your body trembled around him.

The feeling was indescribable, he was so deep in pleasure that when his back arched and he came deep inside you he let out a roar, his eyes screwed shut as he filled you with his come, finally going limp, his arms shaking from the exertion of holding himself above you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him on top of you, burying your face in his neck as you breathed in his scent.

Finally finding his voice he whispered quietly;

“Stay with me tonight”

Wrapped in the sleeping bag and blankets you did just that, curled up in his arms and the warmth of his embrace.

Henry was woken by the sounds of the camp being broken down, the crews from the various universities packing up their things as the minibuses arrived to take them back to the halls of residences or shared houses. He was alone in his bed, and as he sat up he could hear your voice yelling out to your tent-mates to ‘pick up your fucking stuff’.

In the hours that followed various vehicles turned up on site, his own supervisors, benefactors and sponsors of the dig, all very excited by the finds and reports, and especially of the assembled Roman Urn. At every moment he tried to get away, tried to find a moment to talk to you, but as the minutes and hours ticked by the window was closing.

You were all packed up, everything in the old minibus. Every time you had looked across the site he was talking to someone important looking, never getting a moment where he was alone. The driver of your minibus honked the horn and you panicked;

“Hang on, I’ve just got one more thing to do…”

You ran across the site and he saw you, excusing himself from the people he was talking to and managed to intercept you behind the old Ford Transit van that was taking the equipment away. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your lips;

“I didn’t want you to leave before I got to say goodbye”

Your bottom lip trembled, your voice shaking;

“I’ve left my number on a piece of paper on your table, its tucked under the tray with the urn on”

He let out a sigh of relief, nodding before kissing you again, the sound of your minibus driver honking the horn impatiently.

You reluctantly pulled out of his arms, giving him a final wave before running to the bus, and he watched from the side of the van as you climbed in, the vehicle driving off into the distance as a cloud of dust trailed behind it.

“Henry!” an older male voice called out cheerfully.

Rubbing his palms over his face he took a deep breath, before turning and smiling at his supervising professor;

“Hey, good to see you Sir”

The older man clapped a hand over Henry’s shoulder;

“You’ve done an amazing job on this dig… the reports that came in have been exemplary. You had all the same students at the end of the dig as at the start which I’ll have you know is a particular skill… some site leads drive students away in droves!”

Leading Henry back towards the dig site he waxed lyrical about Henry’s skill and how he showed true leadership skills, turning to another gentleman that was leaning against Henry’s Land Rover;

“Have you met Piers?”

Henry shook his head, he knew who he was being introduced to, the CEO of the most prestigious museum in the UK and some would say the world with regards to Archaeology and Palaeontology. Shaking the man’s hand he was speechless;

“We’ve been following the dig reports, your talent is something I haven’t seen for many years… we’d like to discuss a position on our expedition board with you…”

“Y-yes… that would be fantastic! Thank you”

“Now, let’s see that Roman urn I’ve been hearing all about…”

Leading the men to his tent he lifted the tray, pulling it out into the sunshine as they took in the beauty of it, no-one noticing the small scrap of paper catch on the wind and slipping out of the tent, Henry too distracted by the reality of being hired for his dream job.

Many Years Later.

Henry grinned as his team crowed around him, the heat of the Siberian Summer seeping into their pores. In broken Russian the students were laughing and shouting, before three of them carried the massive femur bone they’d excavated a few days previously over to Henry, heaving it into his massive arms.

“Smile!” someone shouted out and he heard the clicks of phone camera shutters, before he gently rested it onto the soft ground, chatting to the team as he did so.

That night they hit the bars of the nearest town, Henry smiling when he saw one had wifi, connecting his phone and uploading a few updates to the dig account and also his own. An hour later he checked his phone and saw his Instagram notifications, one account name in particular catching his attention; @thepunkwiththepinkhair

It couldn't be, could it?

It was. It was you. The pink may be gone, but he had finally found you again.

*******************************************************************************

Thank you for reading!

Some explanations of British shops/brands;

Iceland = a budget supermarket chain

White Lightning = cheap, harsh apple cider, sold in bottles that are 3000ml/a gallon for around £5.00 (USD7/EURO6)

Panda Pop = very cheap fizzy drink, full of additives, artificial colours, sugar.

Ladbrokes - a chain of gambling shops.

Sun-in - spray in hair bleach that you would spritz on your hair and go out in the sunshine, and it would bleach your hair. Apparently it was meant to give you ‘sun kissed highlights’, but when i was 18 i turned my hair bright orange with it.

In the UK University starts when you are 18, and a degree lasts 3 or 4 years. You can then do a ‘post graduate course’ which is another year of studying, and if you want to work towards your doctorate, it can be another 4-7 years on top of that, which is why Henry in this story is literally fresh out of studying even though he is approximately 25 years old.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill smut

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pikapikabishes · 4 years ago

Text

It's Okay Now(Kirishima x gn!Reader)

Disclaimer: all characters rightfully belong to their original creators, only thing that is mine is the plot. Also do not copy my writing. Thank you

Summary: Class 3A's Y/n was having a jolly day hanging out with the BakuSquad, including her amazing bf of over 6 months, Eijirou Kirishima, even with all the stress piling up, like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst, until said explosion finally happened. Triggered by the littlest, probably stupidest event

Warnings: anxiety (?), panic attacks, not eating for days, mentions death, suggestive themes, a bit of swearing

Mentions: mental breakdown, overworking oneself, starvation, hyperventilating, ugly crying, kiri being absolutely biggest sweetheart, daddy!Kiri breifly

A/n: this is my first fic on Tumblr so please be nice, and if you enjoyed it, like and comment

Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my chest, my mind. I don't even know what happened. One minute I'm perfectly fine, having a good time with my friends, the next I'm in this situation.

Im sitting in the middle of my dorm on the floor, crying and sobbing over the smallest thing. I admit being stressed with everything going on in my life; with upcoming school exams , training every single day to improve my ultimate moves, and the biggest clicher... my dad's passing a couple months prior.

This whole time I've just been bottling it all up, trying my hardest to put up a brave front as to not worry my mom, who already has a lot on her plate, my friends and boyfriend, Kirishima. To be frank, I haven't even told my class or Kiri, keeping a bright smile as to not hint them in on my life crashing down around me. Some days are easy to keep up my smile, to let my mind focus on something else, and then there are harder days when everything reminds me of my dad.

I was real close to him, we did a lot of fun stuff together; going to amusement parks, going out to see movies we both were really excited to watch, going out to eat at our favorite restaurants.

It still doesnt feel real after all this time. It felt just like yesterday he was perfectly fine, we were celebrating my grandma's birthday, and literally the next day, I find him stiff and eerily still in his bed. And then everything crashing down on me as the paramedics regretfully tell me that my dad was no longer of this world, when I sob into the phone to my mom that my dad was gone, when I listened to my grandma's wails as my mom told her of her son's passing.

It all felt so surreal, like if I go over to see my grandma at her house, I'll see my dad sitting there in the living room, greeting me with his smile and warm hugs and kisses.

I sob harder as I remember all the times we watched Disney movies and me crying at some scenes as my dad happily comforts me. Buying me a toy from one of the movies I adored at the time. Him gifting me a puppy when he moved into a new neighborhood and I didnt have anyone to play with.

My head's pounding, a deep pressure in my brain, as I clutch tightly to the same doll he bought me all those years ago. My screams silent as I try to keep my classmates from finding me in such a pathetic state and worrying about me, my brain not processing that everyone was still at school. I fought to take control of my emotions again, wanting to be strong for my mom, grandma, and my friends. Unknowning of the pace of my breathing as I desperately tried to grasp my emotions.

My stress and anxiety climbing higher with each panicked breath. All those late nights I stayed up studying as much as I can for the midterm exams, catching up to me. I even forsaken eating as to study so I can at least get a passing grade. And the times I didnt spend studying was spent training to try and get my mind to focus on anything rather than fully face the reality that I no longer live in a world with my dad in it.

When was the last time I had a fulfilling meal? Three days?? And the time before that?? I dont even remember, the pounding in my head preventing me from thinking too much. All I can think about is what caused this stupid meltdown in the first place, my frustrations climbing higher with my stress and anxiety.

~~~

Today was one of those days where it was hard to keep up my smile for people. In an attempt to cheer myself up, I made myself the same lunch my dad and I used to make together for later, excited to eat as this was my first actual meal in days.

As I stroll down the hallways to meet up with Kiri and the rest of the BakuSquad, someone in a rush, bumps into me full force, causing me to fall and drop my lunch on the floor. I only had a moment to grieve as I see my precious lunch splattered all over the floor before the person that bumped into me uttered a measly, rushed "sorry" before hurrying on their way, stepping my lunch in the process.

I stayed there in my position on the floor, looking at my lunch with grief. I know it was stupid to start crying over something that can be replaced with something else that Lunch Rush made, but there the crocodile tears were. My heart and mind had wanted that lunch.

Without thinking I got up and ran out of school and towards the dormitories, deaf to the calls of my fellow 3A classmates and the incoming call on my phone.

~~~

I was brought back to the present by the sound of pounding coming from my dorm door. I was still fighting for control, not able to send a reply without my sobs mixing in with my voice.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through the door. Of course it would be Kiri to be checking up on me. "I tried calling you to see where you were, but you didn't answer. Tsuyu told me she saw you running off upset when I went to go looking for you."

For some reason I sobbed harder, barely able to keep quiet.

"Princess/Prince, please tell me what's wrong, I'm getting really worried."

He stayed quiet for a moment, anxiously waiting for my response. And of course my body betrays me when an ugly sob wracks through my very being, unable to quiet it down.

"Princess/Prince, are you crying?!" Kiri's voice carried his panic and worry. "I'm coming in!" He warned before slamming the door open.

I barely raised my head to meet his worried crimson eyes as his giant frame took up most of the doorway, frozen. His expression falls at the sight of the giant crocodile tears running down my face, distress written all over my expression.

Without saying anything, he rushed over to my side, his big, warm hand landing on my back, immediately rubbing gentle circles as to comfort me.

"Baby, what's wrong? Tell me," he asked, voice trying to soothe me. I shook my head, unable to say or utter a word and I dropped my head again, breathing erratic. "You're hyperventilating, baby. You need to try and calm down a bit."

More sobs was the only thing I responded with. Hearing some shuffling, a moment passed before a soft calming melody sounded through the storm in my mind, along with the sound of gentle falling rain. It was the same several hour music track that I would usually listen to when something was bothering me.

I've always loved the sound of falling rain and ocean waves.

Kiri dropped his phone to the floor, letting the music wrap us in its soothing melody. He brought his hand to my cheek to gently bring my face up and face him. His expression sad as he gets a better look at my distraught, of the crocodile tears streaming down my face, of the deep sadness in my eyes.

Letting his other hand to join my face, he gently wiped away my tears as I tried to control my breathing. "Baby, you have to calm down. It's okay now, I'm here," he said in a gentle voice, bringing me up onto his lap, and wrapping his strong arms around me.

I clutch onto his uniform jacket, burying my face into his chest as I sobbed away, ruining his uniform with my tears and snot.

He gently rocked the both of us, bringing one of his hands up to my head as he softly brushed his fingers through my hair. "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he whispered in my ear.

I don't know how long we sat there, listening to falling rain, Kiri rocking us, whispering calming words into my ear before my breathing was back to normal and my sobs turning into sniffles. Even long after I've calmed down, Kiri still held onto me tightly, grounding me from the storm whirling in my mind.

Only when I lifted up my head from his chest to look up at him did he give me a soft smile, reaching up to brush away strands of hair from my face and eyes. Then, Kiri reached over to his phone, pausing the music before turning back to me.

"Feeling better?"

I slowly nodded my head, my voice hoarse as I finally managed to give a reply, "Yeah, a little bit."

"What happened back there?" Kiri asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

Tears were already welling up in my (e/c) eyes, my bottom trembling as I fought to hold back the tears. Kiri reached up one hand to hold my chin, his thumb softly brushing my bottom lip.

"Please baby, I hate seeing you so distraught," he told me, eyes full of concern as he continued to stroke my bottom lip, as if trying to coax the words to come out, to explain what was paining me so much so he can fix it.

"I-" I stuttered, sniffling back the tears. "I miss him."

"Miss who, baby?" Kiri asked, confused.

"M-my dad," I said, voice now shaky as the tears started falling again. "I m-miss him so much."

Kiri seemed to come to the conclusion that I might have only been extremely homesick. "Why dont you go visit him today then? It's Friday, so you can just stay with him for the weekend."

I violently shook my head. "I-I can't."

"Why not, baby?" He started stroking my back again to try and comfort me.

"H-he died! Two months ago!" I sobbed, pressing my face to his chest again.

"Oh fuck. Shit, I am soo sorry baby. Why didn't you tell me?" Kiri asked, hugging me tightly to him. "I would've been there for you."

"I-I didn't w-want to w-worry y-you," I cried.

Kirishima started rocking us both again, his grip on me tighter as if trying to hold me together. "Of course I'm going to be worried baby. I have been worried about you. I noticed you've been distancing yourself for a while now, but I didn't want to make you talk when you weren't ready. God, I'm so unmanly, not realizing that you were in so much pain all this time." He placed his hand on top of my head. "I am sooo sorry, baby."

I sniffled, shaking my head. "D-Don't be. I w-was the one who d-decided not to t-tell any of you g-guys. I-it's not your f-fault."

"But why didn't you tell us baby? You know we all would've been here for you."

I shrugged. "I-I just wanted to be s-strong for y-you guys. I d-didn't want to w-worry any of you."

"Oh, babe." He pulled back enough to look at me. "You are strong. But it's okay to lean on us, on mee. Just because you're crying, doesn't make you weak. You're mourning, and its okay to cry when you're mourning. It just shows how close you are with your dad and how much you're missing him."

"But... But it feels like my fault though," I cried.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed again in confusion.

"I... I was there that night. The night he passed." I wiped at the tears even though it was fruitless with how the tears continued to fall. "We were all happily celebrating my grandma's birthday. We were all laughing. And I went to sleep a bit late that night. I noticed how his was position in his bed when I got up to use the bathroom, but I didnt think any of it. My dad sits in that position sometimes, and I know that he goes to sleep way later than me. And when I woke up at 11 the next morning because of my grandma calling for me, I got up to see what she needed. You remember, that my grandma cant really move around that well anymore?" I asked him.

Kiri nodded his head, remembering that I helped my grandma when the two of us had dinner with my dad and grandma. "So when I got up and headed towards her room, I saw my dad in the same position. But figured he must've just fallen asleep... Then I went to use the bathroom after helping my grandma, and when I looked closer, I noticed how swollen his feet were. I... I knew my dad was always sick and his legs getting swollen all the time, but... I-I just didnt think I'd find him like that." I cried, covering my mouth as another sob wracked threw me. "Vomit... All over the blankets and his bierd... A blood clot hanging from his nose-"

"Shhh, its okay, baby" Kiri hushed me, rubbing my back, "If it's too much for you, you don't have to explain anymore."

After waiting for my breathing to stabilize again, I continued, "I... I just feel like if I had checked up on him before I went to bed... Maybe... Maybe the paramedics would've been able to save him..."

Kiri grabbed onto my shoulders to pull me away so as to look me dead in the eyes with a stern look. "Y/n, listen to me. It is not your fault," he said firmly. "Okay? It is not your fault. Sometimes these things happen."

"But-" I started, but he cut me off.

"No but's. Okay? I know I havent known him as long as you, but I could tell from the first time I met him that he was soo proud of you. And probably still is." His words made me cry harder, my bottom lip trembling again as I tried to pull myself together in front of this amazing man in front of me. "There's no need to beat yourself up over this," Kiri said, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I started bawling my eyes out again. Kiri started rocking us again, holding me tight as I let out all my sadness and anguish.

"Shhhh... It's okay... Everything's will be okay..." He mumbled in my ear. "Let it all out."

We stayed like that for the next hour as I let out all my suffering, the scent of his cologne, the comforting words, and the sound of the music track all lulling me to sleep, my mind and body too heavy to fight it off.

~~~

I woke up to a dark room, the sun long gone over the horizon. I blearily blinked my eyes open, feeling my tears dried over the skin of my cheeks. All of a sudden, a warm hand slides under my shirt, rubbing a thumb on my stomach. A face was then buried into the back of my neck, a soft pair of lips kissing at the skin.

"Morning beautiful/handsome," came Kiri's sleep filled voice

"Mmnn what time is it?" I mumbled.

Kiri pulled away for a moment, turning to reach behind him for presumably his phone on my nightstand. Squinting at the glare of the phone, Kiri gave me an answer, "7 o'clock at night, so its just about dinner time." Dropping his phone back onto the nightstand, he resumed his position of spooning me, completely dwarfing my body with his giant frame. "You haven't ate lunch right?"

I shook my head. "Or breakfast. Or dinner last night. Or any meals for the past few days."

"What?" Kiri shot up, glaring down at me. "And the time before that?"

I shrugged, my brain too drained to think of a solid answer. "Couple days."

"Y/n!"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be skipping my meals everyday. I should eat at least once a day."

"Is that why you look thinner? Cause you've been skipping your meals??!"

I shrug at him. "I was busy studying for the midterms. Besides I never went 3 days without eating something."

"That's not the point!" Kiri rubbed his hand down his face before looking at me with worry. "You shouldn't be skipping any meals or overworking yourself like this." He reached over to brush a lock of hair away. "Babe, my heart hurts at the thought of you not taking care of yourself."

I place my hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. "I know... I'm sorry. I didnt mean to worry you like this. I just... couldn't come to terms with reality so I busied myself to make me forget the pain. On the bright side I came up with this new, awesome ultimate move I've been dying to show you," I said with some excitement, trying to cheer him up.

He scowled sternly at me for a moment before sighing, shaking his head, any trace of worry and frustration gone from his face as a small smile took over his lips. "Alright fine." But then the stern look came back as he firmly told me, "But I'm not letting you skip any meals anymore, even if I have to force you to eat. And you're not doing no studying or training this weekend."

"Wait, but-" I tried to counter, stopped when the stern look in his eyes intensified.

"No if's, and's or but's. Unless its yours up in the air as I fuck you so hard you wont be able to do anything this weekend but relax."

I blushed and swallowed loudly. "Good, now wait here while I go get you a plate. Bakugou's supposed to be cooking tonight." He leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. Then another. Then another and another before pulling away only slightly to look into my eyes with that familiar dark look in his eyes, a smirk forming on his handsome face. "Maybe I should grab you two plates. You're going to need it for fuel for tonight."

My faced burned as I realized what he meant. He chuckled darkly before standing up and walking towards the door. "I'll be back in a few. And you better be stripped down to nothing by the time I get back." Turning back towards me with a seductive look. "Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl/boy. Daddy's going to take real good care of you this weekend." Then he opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

I gulped loudly, already feeling that familiar heat down below.

It was going to a long weekend.

#gender neutral #anguish #daddy kirishima #mentally drained #kirishima eijiro x reader #my hero academia

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Shotgun - m. tkachuk

And here is 8.7k of a road trip with Matthew Tkachuk, which honestly, is the real dream. Let me know what you think of it, reblog (I love looking at tags!!) and pop into my inbox if you’d like!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a nice brut rosé - crisp, fruity, bubbly. Plus, I like the vibes.

It all started with a text. What are the chances you can get the week after next off? Matthew had sent. Madison’s brow furrowed. Doubtful, but I can try. Are you going to tell me what this is about? There was a week left in the season before playoffs started, and with the points spread in the Pacific being what it was, the matchups were all but locked in. It took less than a minute to get a response. No :) I’ll let you know once you get an answer. She got approved for the time off two days later. Her phone rang as soon as she texted him the news. “How do you feel about road trips?”

---

Maddy had met Matthew about a little over a year prior, soon after she moved to Calgary from her hometown of Toronto. Having finished her first week of work as a computer programmer, there was nothing Madison wanted more than to let loose and enjoy a few drinks with her friends. She was sharing a two-bedroom with her best friend Emily, who Maddy would swear up and down was the sunniest, warmest, most kind person she’d ever met. Not like Maddy wasn’t a nice person — she was — but where her idea of relaxing meant going out bouldering, or camping, or a last-minute road trip, Emily was more of a homebody.

But going out meant going out, and so Emily was happily dragged along to a bar downtown; which one, she couldn’t really say. Madison walked up to the bar as soon as they entered, catching the bartender’s eye and ordering a Tom Collins. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited, glancing around the room. It was ten o’clock on a Friday night, so it was plenty packed. “What are you getting?” Madison asked Emily curiously.

She held up her Molson. “I’m a woman of simple tastes. Plus, I didn’t feel like waiting around for the bartender to actually make me a drink,” Emily added dryly.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of going out to a bar when you’re just going to be drinking something you could get at the liquor store?” Emily stuck her tongue out. The bartender slid Maddy’s glass over, taking her card and swiping it through quickly. “Thank you!” she chirped, whipping around to head over and snag a free table she had seen a few minutes before.

She never ended up getting to the table. Instead, she ran straight into 6 feet, 2 inches of pure Midwestern beef. “Woah!” Matthew said, steadying her as she watched her glass fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking but absolutely spilling its entire contents over the wood. “You good?”

Madison nodded, grabbing a rag from the bartender. Matthew followed suit, joining her on the floor. “Got a little on my shoes, but it’ll be fine. They won’t stain.”

Matthew nodded, giving a final wipe before taking her rag and handing both back over the counter. “Did me spilling your drink all over you ruin my chances of getting your name?”

“Madison St. Pierre,” she said, laughing and sticking out a hand for him to shake.

“Matthew Tkachuk, but—”

Maddy cut him off. “I probably already know that?” Matthew ducked his head sheepishly. “I may be a long-suffering Leafs fan, but I don’t live under a rock.”

He took a sip of his beer, leaning up against the bar. “Not from around here, eh?”

Maddy shook her head. “Just moved a couple weeks ago. I’m from Toronto, moved here for a job. I do computer programming,” she said by way of explanation.

“A smart girl.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that.”

“Well,” he said, “I feel bad about spilling your drink on you, let me buy you another.”

Maddy laughed. “If you insist. It’s really the least you could do.”

Matthew nodded at the bartender, ordering her another Tom Collins and putting it on his tab. “You and your friend are more than welcome to join us,” he gestured behind him to where the rest of his group was sitting, “we were playing a drinking game and could use a few more players anyway.”

And that was how Matthew met Maddy.

---

Day 1

Ten days later, Madison was hefting her duffel bag into the trunk of her Nissan. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday. Normally on a day off she’d be taking advantage of every possible minute of sleep she could get, but lines to cross the border could be long and they wanted to get to Montana by lunch. She waved goodbye to Emily, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Matthew had initially suggested they just get a rental car, since it would save Maddy the 20-hour drive back. But a quick Google search let them know that the chances of finding a company willing to let them drop off a Canadian car in Nevada were slim to none. Plus, Maddy had always liked driving, so it wasn’t really an issue for her. They weren’t going to be alone on the trip; Matthew had invited Elias and Rasmus along. She felt a little bit like a school bus driver, stopping at Elias’s complex to pick him up, then Rasmus’ condo, finally pulling into the underground lot of Matthew’s apartment building. Holding one hand up in greeting, he wheeled his suitcases over to her car.

Maddy unblocked her seatbelt, hopping out to help him. “Why on earth did you need so many bags?” she huffed, turning one on its side and wedging it in between hers and Elias’s.

He shrugged. “I’ve got a bag for the trip, a bag of actual clothes and workout stuff for the series, and the suit bag.” He hung the offending article on a hook. “Did you think I’d be able to set my vanity aside for a whole four days?”

“I should have known that would be too much to ask.”

Matty threw his head back, laughing. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Mads?”

“Once or twice, Ratthew,” she said, slamming the door shut.

Maddy hopped back in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition and turning the engine on. “Next stop, boys, is America.”

---

Well technically, the next stop was a gas station off of Highway 2, about twenty minutes from the border. “Wait, wait,” Matthew said, a conspiratorial grin on his face as Madison took the pump out of the gas tank.

She raised one eyebrow. “What?”

He made grabby hands at her keys. “Let me drive.”

“Why?” Madison asked. “I’ve been driving for like what, two hours? I’m not tired yet.”

“I’m the only American in the car.”

Maddy put the pump back. “And?”

Matthew looked sheepish. “Someone said that the border patrol officers will tell Americans ‘welcome home’ when they’re coming back. It’s never happened to me flying so I wanted to see if it would be different in a car.”

“If it means that much to you?” she said, tossing the keys over the hood of the car. Matthew caught them. Maddy rounded the back of the car before she could see him ducking his head, blushing.

They arrived at the Piegan/Carway crossing shortly after. With exactly zero cars in front of them, Matthew pulled straight up to the booth.

“Purpose of your visit?” the officer said, looking into the driver’s side.

“Three of us play hockey, we’re road tripping down to Las Vegas before our playoff series starts in a few days,” Matty answered easily.

He nodded. “And how long will you be in the States for?”

It was clear either this man had never watched a series of professional sports in his life, or he was just following a standard script. “Depends?” Matthew said, fully aware of how questionable that sounded.

Maddy piped up from the passenger seat. “I’m driving the car back, so I’ll be back in eight days.”

“Right,” Matthew nodded, “But this trip to the US, we’ll be back in seven days. We’re flying back on the team plane, so it’s not a land crossing.” He decided to forego mentioning that, barring a sweep, they’d be back again in two weeks.

The poor officer looked bewildered. “Team plane?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders. “We play for the Calgary Flames, the team charters a plane to fly us from Calgary to wherever we’re playing and back. We decided to take the scenic route this time.”

“Okay,” he said, but Madison still wasn’t convinced he actually understood what Matty was saying. If the border officer thought anything of the American, Canadian, and Swedish passports he was handed, he didn’t say anything. Giving a cursory glance, he handed them back. “Welcome back,” he nodded to Matthew, waving the car through the gate. Matthew pumped his fist.

---

An hour later, Matthew pulled into a dirt parking lot on the edge of Glacier National Park. “WE MADE IT!” he exclaimed, putting the car in park and throwing his hands up.

“We drove three hours,” Elias said from the back seat.

“And?” Matty challenged, opening the door.

Maddy grabbed her backpack, stuffed with sandwiches and snacks that they had gotten on their way in. “If you guys brought hiking boots or good tennis shoes, now’s the time,” she said, lacing up her own boots. “There’s a loop around here that’s a little under four miles long, doesn’t sound like it’s too difficult but there is some elevation climb, so better safe than sorry.” People typically didn’t peg her for it, but Maddy was a very outdoorsy person at heart. She had taken up rock climbing in high school, and was a regular at the bouldering gyms back in Toronto until she moved. She’d found a climbing gym she liked well enough in Calgary, but with Banff just over an hour away from the city, the park had become her go-to for climbing and hiking. Matty had come with her on more than one occasion, and had surprised her with a long weekend camping for her birthday in March. The snow hadn’t all melted yet, and waking up to the powder-dusted fir trees outside of their tent had been one of the most beautiful sights of her life.

“Everyone’s got a full water bottle?” she asked, tying up her hair. The last thing anyone wanted was to get heatstroke in one of the most remote parts of the park with only one phone that could even connect to an American cell tower.

The group started off at a leisurely pace, wandering off-trail to check out anything and everything that caught their interest. The edge of the St. Mary Valley served as the perfect backdrop for lunch, Maddy pulling the sandwiches out from her bag and doling them out. “Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Elias said, grabbing his food from Maddy practically before she even had it in her hand.

“Did you not have breakfast?” she asked incredulously.

He nodded. “I did, but I’m still hungry. Should have brought snacks.” Off to his side, Matty snickered.

Day 2

Elias had volunteered to take over from Matthew to drive through the night, switching off sometime around sunrise with Rasmus. “I 100% have a crick in my neck,” Maddy grimaced, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and checking her phone.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Matthew smiled. Maddy groaned, leaning into his side. Almost instinctively, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a few gulps before setting it back down on the floor of the car, where it promptly rolled away.

“Who do I have to blow to get a decent cup of coffee around here?” Maddy groaned. Matthew almost choked on his water. He had to get his mind off of the idea of Maddy blowing anything or he was about to have an issue. He pulled out his phone, jumping on Google maps.

“There’s a little coffee shop a few miles ahead, off of the Spruce Drive exit?” he asked tentatively.

She yawned. “As long as they sell caffeine, I’m game.” They did indeed sell caffeine, and after inhaling two cappuchinos and a small mountain of pastries later, Maddy hopped back behind the wheel. “You sure bear claws and muffins are on the meal plan, boys?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips.

Rasmus waved her off. “It’s not like you’re going to rat us out, are you?”

She shrugged, wiggling her phone in her hand as she pulled up at a stoplight. “Bold of you to assume I don’t have Coach’s number in my phone.”

Matty plucked her phone from her hand, placing it back by the center console. “Be that as it may, sweet Madison, you neglect to remember that I’m the only one with coverage in the U.S.” He might not strike most people as a particularly sentimental person, but Matthew loved his family, and decided that the extra charge was well worth being able to call his parents and sister whenever he was missing them.

She stuck her tongue out at Matthew. “You ruin all of my fun, you know that?” All he did was grin. The drive to Mesa Falls wasn’t long at all, they had just finished their food — Matty popping bites of muffin into Madison’s mouth as she drove — when she pulled over to the curb by the sign. Maddy threw the boys’ backpacks to them, pointing to the single bathroom stall in the tiny rest area. “Go change, I’ll use the car.”

“Why can’t we have the car?” Matthew complained.

She looked at him. “Three full-grown men, all over six feet, in one car. I know you see each other’s dicks all day in the locker room, but I’d really rather not have that in my car. Think.”

Matty made an “o” with his mouth. “Gotcha.”

Swim trunks were much easier to get on than a wrap bikini, Madison was finding, and the boys were finished changing well before she was done figuring out her top. She bit her lip, poking her head out of the door. “Matty?”

He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Could you help me tie this?” she asked, gesturing to the halter top. “I think it’s stuck or something.”

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he tried to stutter through a sentence. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. For sure,” he said, shuffling over to the car. He gently untwisted the straps, gathering them into a bow at the base of her neck and trying very, very hard to not think about how soft her skin felt underneath his fingers. This was one of his best friends. And best friends weren’t supposed to think about that kind of stuff. Right?

Behind them, Elias and Rasmus shared a glance. They had expected something was going on between them, really ever since the party in November, but this was something new. They had never seen Matthew gone this far for a girl before. And they liked this side of him.

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before disappearing back into the car to throw on a coverup. “How long is the walk to the actual waterfalls?”

“Not long,” Elias responded. “Ten minutes or so?” It was an easy walk to the falls, which were mercifully empty when they got there. They kicked off their sandals, leaving the bags under a nearby bush. Matthew knew Madison was pretty. She wasn’t a nun and he wasn’t a saint; she had seen him shirtless more times than he could count and he had seen her come out of his guest room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt of his after she stayed the night. His thoughts hadn’t exactly been innocent. But as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her clad only in that damn red bikini, he was convinced he’d never seen a more gorgeous sight.

She turned around just as Matthew tore his eyes away, looking mischievously at him. “Last one in?” They sprinted to the water. Matty let her win.

---

About half of their stops had been planned in advance; the others were pulled from websites or Google suggestions or whatever their waitress’ recommendation was for a local must-see. The Idaho Potato Museum fell into the latter category. Rasmus had floated the idea shortly after they had left Mesa Falls, and seeing as how nobody had anything better to suggest, they ran with it.

“Free taters for out of staters,” Matthew said, reading off of the pamphlet they had been handed at the welcome desk.

“Will they give me extra since I’m Canadian?” Madison wondered aloud. “For all intents and purposes they think you live in Missouri, Matty.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, she didn’t even think twice.

He passed the paper to her, the tips of their fingers barely brushing together, but Matthew could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t get greedy, Mads.” They walked down a dimly-lit hallway lined with black-and-white photos.

“Did you know that the first potatoes grown in the United States were planted in Londonderry, New Hampshire, by Scotch-Irish immigrants?” Elias read off of a placard, his voice sounding like a disinterested radio announcer.

Maddy shook her head. “I didn’t, thank you so much for imparting on me this most important knowledge, Elias.”

“My pleasure,” he replied.

“Did you know that you could survive off of a diet of only potatoes and butter?” Rasmus chimed in, reading another sign.

“Really?” Matthew asked, leaning in to read. He turned to Madison a moment later. “Really, apparently.”

Half an hour of wandering later, Matthew and Madison had stumbled into the “artifacts” portion of the museum. “What kind of artifacts does a potato museum have?” Maddy asked, looking supremely confused.

Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don’t we see?” For some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to hold his hand out for her. And for some reason, Maddy took it.

The “artifacts” turned out to consist of some old farm tools, dusty burlap sacks, and the world’s largest potato chip. Elias and Ramsus were on the other side of the museum, leaving Matthew and Madison to drift through alone. “Crisp, actually,” Matthew said, reading the card under the glass case. “Because I guess they’re worried about people stealing it?”

“There’s a difference?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it’s only a chip if it’s a slice of potato. This was made from dehydrated potato flakes, or something like that.” Maddy wasn’t sure if it was the sepia-tinted lighting, or the lingering memory of how Matty’s fingertips burned like fire against her back as he tied her bikini, or if there was something particularly romantic about dehydrated potato flakes, but they were alone in the room and suddenly she was looking at him a little bit differently. Matthew looked at her, gaze soft as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down towards her lips. Her lips. His body leaned in, and just as she closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, wondering if they were really going to do this in the middle of the Idaho fucking Potato Museum—

“We were wondering where you guys had gone off to!” Elias’s Swedish accent cut through the silence. Matthew threw his head back, silently cursing his teammate’s timing. If Elias and Rasmus realized anything was off, they didn’t say. “The lady at the front said it’s closing in ten minutes, so we thought we should head out and get something to eat.”

Maddy nodded in agreement, her cheeks burning. “Sounds good. I could go for some food.” They made their way back outside, Matthew settling behind the wheel as he steered the car back onto the highway. He tried to shake the almost-kiss from his mind, but the more he tried to forget it, the more the memory stuck.

Elias looked down at his phone. “Yelp says there’s an Indian place coming up on the left if that sounds good to you guys,” he said, shaking Matthew from his thoughts.

Maddy scrunched her nose. “All due respect, I don’t trust this town to make good Indian food. Potatoes, burgers, meat, sure. I buy it. But I haven’t seen a single person of color since we left Glacier.”

“Fair.”

The burgers were good; nothing to write home about, but Maddy was honestly thrilled to eat something that didn’t come out of a bag. The plan had originally been to drive through the night again to reach Salt Lake City by the early morning, but Maddy made it clear her back didn’t take too well to sleeping in the car, and the others agreed. “Rasmus, mind finding a hotel nearby? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just somewhere not too far off of the freeway,” Madison asked. He nodded, pulling out his phone. They had gotten tired of passing around Matthew’s phone anytime they were out of Wifi range, so after a little complaining and one of Maddy’s puppy-dog eye looks, he finally relented and turned his hotspot on.

“There��s a Holiday Inn up off of the next exit if that sounds good to you guys,” Rasmus said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the Post Malone song that Matty had plugged in. They switched the aux every few hours.

“Yeah, works for me.” Madison hummed her agreement; Matty nodded. Rasmus flicked on the blinkers, gently cruising down the offramp, pulling into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn about half a mile down the road.

Madison bit the inside of her cheek. “They’re going to have rooms available, yeah?”

“Mads, it’s May in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. I don’t exactly think they’ve got business lining up out the door.” Matty said, looking at her from the side as they walked into the hotel lobby.

The whole trip was Matthew’s idea, so he insisted on footing the bill, handing his credit card and license over to the receptionist. Maddy snickered behind her hand. Matthew turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Madison?”

“Missouri licenses look weird,” she commented.

“And Alberta’s any better?”

She scrunched her nose. “We have a dinosaur on ours. Beat that.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” Matty said, the corner of his lip twitching as he thanked the receptionist, tucking the cards back into his wallet. She handed over the room keys, Matthew passing two to Rasmus and Elias and one to Maddy. “I had us together, if you don’t mind.”

Madison shook her head. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t unusual for her to stay over at Matthew’s apartment, either after going out or when their movie nights ran a little long and she woke up to Matty tucking her into the bed in his guest room. She had a toothbrush in his bathroom, a change of clothes in the dresser. She had offered to take her stuff back a few months ago, not wanting any girl he might bring over to get the wrong idea. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he had said when she asked, waving her off. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t brought any girl home — that she knew about — since sometime around the beginning of the year.

They waved goodbye to Rasmus and Elias, promising to wake up bright and early to get the first crack at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7. Matty swiped his card, holding the door open when the light turned green and the knob twisted. “After you, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, good sir,” Maddy giggled, ducking under his arm into the entryway. She stopped at the end of the hall, eyes flickering into the room.

Matthew stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“There’s only one bed.”

His head jerked around the corner, not like he doubted her word or anything, but he needed to see it for himself. There was only one bed. One big bed, one very comfortable-looking bed, but one bed. Matty dropped his bag on the floor. “Uh...D’you want me to call down? I can see if they’ve got another room if that would make you more comfortable.”

Madison pursed her lips for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. We’re adults, we can share a bed without burning the house down.” It wasn’t like Maddy was lying for Matthew’s sake; she really was fine with it. Maybe a little too fine. But they had slept together — in the innocent sense of the word — before, and everything had turned out okay. His arm draped over her shoulder as she cuddled into his shoulder on a late night, her legs tangled in his when some of his friends from St. Louis were visiting for the weekend and took the guest room. He had offered to take the couch that night, but Maddy didn’t want to relegate him to a night of back cramps and drafty breezes, especially when he had an early practice the next day. Nobody ever made it weird, so it wasn’t weird.

She took her bundle of clothes into the shower, relishing in the feeling of hot water raining down on her aching muscles. Maddy was loving the trip, genuinely, but being in a car for twelve hours out of the day took something out of a person. Slipping into an old college t-shirt, Madison thought for a moment about putting on a pair of sweats. It wasn’t particularly cold — the opposite, in fact — but she didn’t know if it would make Matthew feel weird if she wasn’t wearing pants. Fuck it, she thought, pulling up her boyshorts. If he had an issue with it, it was his problem. Throwing her hair up in a towel to dry, she turned the doorknob, poking her head out the door. “Shower’s open if you wanted to hop in,” she said.

Matty nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long, why don’t you find something for us to watch?” he asked, tossing her the remote. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and while she was tired, Maddy knew if she tried to go to sleep she’d wake up well before dawn, and that wasn’t something anyone wanted. Madison climbed up onto the bed, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbed the channel guide. True to his word, Matthew was in and out in under ten minutes, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked out. Athletic shorts. Shirtless. Maddy couldn’t help but give him the once-over, having to jerk her eyes back up to his face the moment she realized what she was doing. Matthew met her eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “I can put a shirt on if you’d like…”

“No! You’re good,” Maddy replied, maybe a little too quickly to avoid suspicion.

He ducked back into the bathroom, throwing the towel over the shower curtain. “So, what did you settle on?”

She looked back at the TV. “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives?”

Matty jumped onto the bed. “Guy Fieri. What a legend. Awesome. Where’s he going?”

Three and a half episodes later, it was almost eleven, and Madison’s eyes were starting to droop. Sometime midway through the second episode, when Guy was visiting an Asian fusion restaurant in Colorado, her head had drifted onto Matthew’s shoulder, where it had stayed ever since. His arm wrapped loosely around her, Matty brought his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair that had drifted into her face. “Getting sleepy, Mads?”

She yawned, nodding and trying to push herself up. “‘M looking forward to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.” He threw back the comforter, Madison crawling under, and reached over to the nightstand, turning off the lamps and TV. “Give me your phone,” he said.

“Why?” Maddy asked, her brow furrowing.

“You always forget to charge it overnight, and I don’t want you to be grumpy when it dies at 10 AM.” She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a concession, handing over her iPhone. Matty plugged it in, clambering beneath the sheets. “Sweet dreams, Mads. Good night.”

“Night, Matty.”

Day 3

The first thing Madison noticed when she woke up was the warm, unfamiliar weight slung around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that it was Matty’s arm, who hadn’t woken up yet. For some reason that she couldn’t quite identify, or maybe didn’t want to confront quite yet, it wasn’t unwelcome at all, and she savored the last few minutes of physical closeness before he woke up. And he did, wake up, that is. His cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Maddy ducked her head. “Nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t mind.”

Matthew yawned. “What time is it?”

“Uh, just before seven,” she said, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. “I’d love to stay in bed a little longer, but we did promise the boys we’d meet them down at breakfast soon.”

He nodded, making a very concerted effort to not read into her statements any more than he absolutely had to. “Yeah, good idea,” he said, tossing the covers off and walking into the bathroom. “I’ll sit on you if you’re not up by the time I get back out there.” Maddy took the opportunity to change, threading a belt through her jeans and half-tucking a t-shirt. “I like the look,” he said when he walked out, as Maddy was twisting her hair up into a bun. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Matthew to compliment her; she had accompanied him to more than one charity event for the Flames as his date, but she had always been dressed up. Dress, heels, makeup that she probably stressed way too much over. Dressed to the nines, never in jeans and a t-shirt before. But she didn’t really notice, the compliment meaning just as much to her as if she’d been in a floor-length gown.

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her duffel. “I packed the rest of your bag while you were in there, figured I might as well.”

It was Matty’s turn to thank her, squeezing her hand appreciatively before giving the room a quick look. “We didn’t forget anything, then?”

Madison laughed. “We really didn’t stay long enough to unpack, but yeah, we’ve got everything, don’t worry.”

---

Elias had volunteered to do the drive down to Salt Lake City. Matthew’s inner six-year-old had returned, insisting that the group stop at a dinosaur park in a rural part of Utah. What “dinosaur park” meant, Madison wasn’t sure, but it made Matty happy, so she didn’t fight it.

The museum was mostly outdoors, with life-sized dinosaur models dotting the massive field. “Were you much into dinosaurs as a kid?” Matthew asked Madison.

“Kind of?” she replied noncommittally. “I always loved learning about them, but never had like a ‘dinosaur phase’ like David or Cody,” she said, referring to her older brothers. “My family used to go to the Canadian Museum of Nature a ton when I was a kid, since it was only a few hours away in Ottawa, and it has like a billion fossils in it.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Pachycephalosaurus,” she said easily.

Matthew blinked. “Pachycephalo-what?” he asked in confusion. He thought he knew all of them?

Maddy laughed. “Pachycephalosaurus. They had these really spiny heads. But secretly, I think I was a little bit of a teacher’s pet who just liked saying the name. Pretty sure they were actually native to Alberta?” she added. “What about you?”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“Fine, fine,” Matty gave in, “it was the brachiosaurus.”

“How come?” she asked curiously.

“I liked the long necks.”

They spent another hour or so at the park, Matty grabbing a keychain on the way out. “They didn’t have a brachiosaurus,” he muttered, half-angry, picking up a T-rex one instead. It wasn’t a long drive to the actual Great Salt Lake, and for some reason, they had trusted Elias with the aux. Much to Maddy’s chagrin, he didn’t end up playing ABBA, and they were instead led to cruise down I-15 to the dulcet tones of J.S. Bach.

Madison looked down at her phone. “Anyone want to go see the Joseph Smith sphinx?”

“Joseph Smith?” Rasmus questioned.

“Sphinx?” asked Elias.

Matthew laughed. “You know those Egyptian statues of like the cat ladies? Where they have cat bodies but the faces of people?”

“Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church,” Madison explained. “Well, technically it’s called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but—”

“Know-it-all,” Matty said in a sing-song voice. Madison shot a glare at him from the back seat.

“But most people still call them Mormons. And apparently they made him into a sphinx.”

Elias looked at her, still dumbfounded. “But why?”

Maddy shrugged. “Honestly? Beats me.” The weather had dropped too much by the time they had reached the lake to make swimming very practical, so the four of them settled for taking off their shoes, rolling up pants, and wading into the shoreline.

Matthew bent down, picking up a chipped white rock from the ground, the water just lapping at his fingers. He handed it to Madison. “For you.”

She took it gently, running her hands over the jagged surface. “Aren’t you not allowed to take anything from a national park?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” They stopped at a Chipotle just as the sun was beginning to set, Matthew taking over driving duties from Rasmus. The plan was to drive for another two hours or so, stopping somewhere in southern Utah for the night to spare themselves from another night spent in her Nissan.

They drove in silence for a while, Elias and Rasmus drifting to sleep in the back row, before a road sign caught Matty’s eyes and he spoke. “I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, you know,” he said as they continued down I-15.

Maddy looked over at him. “Do you want to go?” She didn’t know where the suggestion came from, but it was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and after a moment, she realized that she didn’t even want to.

His eyebrows raised as he glanced over at her before turning back to the road, the car’s headlights the only thing in sight. “You mean it?”

Madison shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She quickly popped the directions into her phone. “It’s only a few hours out of the way, if we drive through the night instead of stopping somewhere we should have more than enough time.”

“But didn’t you say sleeping in the car made your back hurt?” Matty asked curiously.

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll drive. You’re more important.” Honestly, Maddy surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but it hadn’t escaped her that the dynamic between her and Matthew had changed in the past few weeks and was about to come to a boil. Matty wasn’t exactly the type of guy Madison expected to have a lot of friends who were girls. And a part of her hated that, hated that because of his reputation she automatically assumed when they became friends that all he wanted to do was get in her pants. There had only been one time in their entire year of friendship when they’d even done so much as kissed, and it wasn’t exactly what you’d consider normal circumstances.

---

It was November of the previous year, about six months after Matthew and Madison had met. Matthew had been even more in his head than normal; he hadn’t scored a single point since midway through their East Coast road trip over two weeks ago, and the disappointment was really starting to rag on him. It might not have been something he outwardly showed all that much, but those who knew him knew that Matthew was actually a deeply sensitive person, who took pride in his wins and carried losses with him well after they had faded from the minds of the rest of the hockey world.

When it had gotten to the point where his frustration was starting to affect his game, Maddy knew it was time to do something. “You’re so much more than your stats, Matty,” she had said, calling him right before she left for the Saddledome. “I know you take this personally, and you feel like you’re letting down the team, but that’s bullshit and somewhere deep down, I know you agree.” Matthew grumbled something that might have been an agreement. “Your team trusts you, they trust you with the puck and with the A, and you’re never going to disappoint them as long as you’re giving it your all. And if you’re the Matthew Tkachuk I know, there’s never a time when you don’t. And win or lose tonight, there’s nothing you could do to change the fact that your family loves you, and your friends love you, and I love you too. Okay?” Clearly, something in her little pep talk had flipped a switch in Matty, because he returned in spectacular form that night, scoring a hat trick in a roaring 5-1 win over the Coyotes. And he didn’t throw a single punch all game.

A good game without a travel day following usually calls for going out, and a great game with your best friend scoring a hat trick definitely calls for going out, so she dragged Emily along to the bar that Matthew had told her to meet the team at. Matthew had pulled her into a hug the moment she arrived, kissing her cheek and trying his damndest not to spill the beer in his hand on her shoes. An hour and a half into the night, Madison was four drinks in, well and truly drunk, and Emily had wandered off and appeared to be flirting with an extremely oblivious Noah Hanifin.

“How are you doing, Mads?” Matthew asked, coming up from behind her barstool and resting his hand gently on the small of her back.

She looked back at him, a goofy smile on her face, and took another sip of her drink. “I’m good, I’m realllly good,” she giggled. “Did I ever get a chance to tell you how good you were tonight?” Matthew shook his head, very poorly concealing a laugh. He had had more than one beer, sure, but he was nowhere near as gone as Madison. “Because you were really good. A-ma-zing,” she added, punctuating each syllable. Her eyes softened as she leaned in. “I know the points drought was starting to weigh on you, and I’m really glad you were able to do this for yourself. I’m always proud of you, Matty, but I was a little extra proud of you tonight. People sometimes write you off as just another good player without any real subsistence,” she paused, correcting herself, “substance, off the ice, but I know the real you, and the real you is even more incredible than the you that plays hockey. It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“It is?” Matthew asked softly, leaning into the hand that had begun to caress his cheek a little bit imprecisely, but that somehow communicated every kind of unsaid word between them.

Madison nodded, touching his forehead to hers, and then she tilted in. And then she kissed him. Her lips met his, and she tasted like lime and spearmint chewing gum and his favorite kind of tequila. Her lips met his, and it seemed like the room stood still; he barely heard his teammates’ wolf-whistles or Emily’s elated gasp in the background. Her lips met his, and he drank in every second of the kiss until she pulled away.

---

Maddy hadn’t been drunk enough to black out that night, and she came to the next morning with a roaring headache and the pang of regret in her heart. She thought it was shame at her behavior, embarrassment that she could act so impulsively, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized. The fact that she kissed Matthew wasn’t the issue, not to her, at least. It was the fact that she was drunk in a bar after a hockey game and that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She pushed her feelings to the side, trying desperately to focus on work and supporting Matty through the rest of the season, but they always tended to flare up when they were least welcome. Like at the Idaho Potato Museum.

Which of course meant that Matthew would choose this moment, driving down I-15 with two sleeping Swedish hockey players in the backseat, to bring it up. “I remember when you kissed me, you know,” Matty said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over his lips, like if he tried hard enough he could remember what it felt like to have Maddy’s pressed against his.

Madison froze, which isn’t exactly what you’re supposed to do when you’re driving. She thought he had forgotten. He had never brought it up, so she really had no reason to believe he would have remembered. “You do?” she asked, swallowing.

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. “Mhm. I hadn’t thought about it in a couple weeks, but back in Idaho, in front of the World’s Largest Potato Crisp…” He let out an airy chuckle.

Maddy breathed in sharply. So she hadn’t imagined that. Her fingers tapped nervously against the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Yeah…” She trailed off nervously. “I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were hammered,” Matthew agreed. “But do you regret it?”

There it was, the million-dollar question that she somehow actually had the answer to. A long moment passed before she answered, figuring it would be best to just rip the band-aid off. Worst case, Matty would hate her and she’d only be stuck in a car with him for ten-odd more hours. No big deal. “No,” she whispered, voice so small he almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m glad, because I don’t either,” Matty said. Madison hazarded a glance to her side; he looked almost nervous, and nervous wasn’t a look Matthew Tkachuk did all that often. “I had wanted to for a few months, but it always seemed like it was never the right time, or something interrupted us, or I didn’t know how you felt about me. But you made the first move, and I’m glad you did.”

“How come?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how long I would have waited to do something, or if I ever would have done anything. I feel like sometimes…,” he searched for the right words, “the confidence that I have on the ice can be misleading. Hockey is about reflexes and instincts and knowing the game, but it’s also thinking three steps ahead, anticipating every possible outcome and preparing for them. And that’s the part that I carry off the ice. I think I was worried if I ever brought it up with you, if I ever mentioned that I so much as remembered the kiss, you might clam up and tell me it was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said that. Because I don’t know how you feel about me, not like that”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out, as scared as she was about admitting them. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Matthew had never seen Madison like this before, unsure and worried and downright vulnerable, and it meant so much to him that she was letting him see her like that.

Matthew let out a watery laugh. “Only pretty sure? Hurts my ego a little bit.” Maddy opened her mouth, but he waved her off. “Because I’m definitely sure I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t ever how she imagined telling him, and it wasn’t how Matty thought he’d tell her, on a freeway in Southern Utah on their way to the Grand Canyon, but sometimes life throws unexpected things at you and you have to roll with the punches.

“When did you know?” Madison asked curiously.

Matthew bit his lip. “Few months ago? I knew I liked you as more than a friend probably since you kissed me, but it was after that game against Vancouver that I really understood I had fallen in love with you.” Maddy remembered the game. It had gone terribly for the Flames, a 4-0 shutout with more than one fight and the bench racking up penalty minutes. What she didn’t know was what made that one special. Matthew looked over at her, answering her unspoken question. “Why that one?” She nodded. “I think it’s because it was such a shitty game. I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you had just skipped out after the end of the third, I know I can be hard to deal with after a loss. But you didn’t leave, you stayed. I remember seeing you outside the tunnel, swallowed by my jersey because it’s three sizes too big for you and you refuse to let me buy you another—”

“I don’t want another because it’s yours, and I love it,” Maddy said quietly.

Matthew smiled. “Your call. But when I turned the corner and saw you, I realized three things at the exact same time. You were there for me when you didn’t have to be, and I wanted to be able to do the same thing for you. Second, you’re who I wanted to come home to. And last,” he gathered his thoughts, “I realized if I never saw another girl in my jersey for the rest of my life, that would be fine with me.”

“I think I knew when you introduced me to your family, when you flew me down for the All-Star break?” He nodded in recognition. “Just seeing you with them, how much you love your parents and adore Taryn. You even managed to not chirp Brady for a whole dinner.”

“My mom threatened me.”

Madison laughed. “Even so. It just gave me a whole new side to you. I had seen you with your friends, and with the boys, and with me, but it wasn’t the same. How deeply you cared about making sure I fit in with them, and had fun, and felt included. It was the last piece of the puzzle, really.” Her hand rested on the center console after she downshifted.

“So, are we going to do this? Do you want to do this, Mads?” Matty asked, wrapping his fingertips gently around her free hand.

Flipping her hand around, she interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m all in if you are.”

Matthew bent down, kissing their hands. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.” He glanced behind him to the backseat, where Elias and Rasmus were still fast asleep. “What do you think they’re going to say when they wake up?”

“I’m not sure,” Madison said, laughing. “Probably tell us it’s about time. Pass me my phone, will you?” Matthew pulled out her phone from where it was charging on the passenger side.

“What do you need to look up?” he asked curiously as she pulled off of the freeway and into a gas station; the directions were already programmed into the car’s navigation system.

Maddy gave a coy smile, gently putting the car into park. “I’ve got to text the girl’s chat, tell them they’ve got to make me a jacket. They’re going to go wild.”

Day 4

The chat did go wild, even more so after she sent a picture of her kissing Matty’s cheek. After about a half-dozen “we called its” and a promise for her jacket to be ready by the first home game of the series, she turned her phone off, leaning over to ruffle Matthew’s hair; he had taken over driving sometime around four o’clock. “I like that I can just do this now,” she mused, playing with his curls as they crossed the border into Arizona.

“Please, no PDA in front of the children,” he said playfully, gesturing to the backseat. Elias flipped him off.

The entrance to the Grand Canyon was only an hour past the state line, and there were more than a few cafés to grab a quick breakfast at. Most of the day was spent walking around the vast expanse of the park, marvelling at its natural grandeur, and taking more than a few incredibly aesthetically pleasing Instagram pictures. A few minutes before they had to pack up and leave for the last leg of the drive, they had hiked over to the South Rim.

Matty leaned on the barriers overlooking the canyon. “It’s so big.”

Rasmus snickered from behind them. “Duh, Tkachuk. That’s why they call it grand.”

He ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, I mean, obviously. But it’s just kind of surreal, you know?” Madison nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and if either of them had turned around they would have seen Rasmus and Elias sharing a very “I-told-you-so” look. “Kind of reminds us how small we are in the grand scheme of things.”

It seemed like only a few minutes later that they were pulling into Las Vegas, Rasmus steering the car into the underground lot of the team hotel. None of the boys were expected at practice until the next morning, and they had decided before leaving that the easiest thing to do would just be to book the rooms for the one night.

“Anyone feeling up to going out?” Maddy asked as they walked down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. “I found a tiki bar a couple blocks away, great Yelp reviews.”

“Sounds good,” Rasmus said. Elias nodded.

“I’m in,” Matthew added, unlocking the door. “Meet out here in ten?”

The break allowed Madison to get a much-needed change of clothes while Matthew hopped in for a quick shower, emerging in a T-shirt and very, very nice-looking pair of black jeans. Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down. “You like what you see?” Matthew asked, expression cocky.

She shrugged. “I don’t have to hide it now.” Madison slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over the lounge chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, poking his head out the door. “Boys are already out.”

The walk to the bar couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like twenty in the best way possible. She was holding hands with Matty, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the top of her hand, the twinkling lights of dozens of Vegas casinos in their view. Two and a half mai tais and an hour later, the group sat at a table in the corner as Maddy giggled, retelling a particularly embarrassing moment on her high school volleyball team when she tried to make a dive that instead ended up with a ten minute pause in gameplay and the worst nosebleed of her life. She finished the story to raucous laughter, leaning into Matthew’s side. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What is it, Matty?” she asked, pulling away to look at him.

Eyes soft, he tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “Just thanking God I invited you on the trip. And for the Idaho Potato Museum.”

Madison laughed, the sound like music as it reached his ears. “We should write them. Thank them for helping to get us together. Maybe they’d give us season tickets.”

“Who needs season tickets when I have you?” Matty chuckled, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Sure, Madison was a few drinks in when she kissed him. And sure, it wasn’t like Matty was exactly sober either. But this kiss was different. This kiss was the start of everything.

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #matthew tkachuk #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl writing #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk writing #rat king

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echoghost1 · 4 years ago

Text

EchoGhost's Phic Phight 2021 Master Post

And in case you missed any, or just like seeing the whole gang together, here is every single fic I wrote for my first ever Phic Phight!

1) Perseverance

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: While Maddie is helping Danny with his homework a notification from his phone becomes a major distraction.

Prompt: PR134 - Danny is sitting quietly next to someone. Maybe he's doing homework with his friends, maybe Jazz is driving him somewhere, maybe he's working on a group project with someone, maybe he's doing something else entirely. He suddenly starts *freaking* the heck out - Perseverance has just landed on Mars, and he just found out about it. How is his reaction perceived by whoever he's with?

2) The Reason You Wail

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: An odd feeling he can't quite explain is haunting Danny. He wants it to stop but he knows it won't, he just knows now.

Prompt: PR054 - As Danny gets older, he doesn't just predict the appearance of ghosts. He starts predicting when someone's going to die.

3) Forget Your Life Story

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Danny woke up with no memory. He didn’t even know his own name. The doctor told him it would come back and his parents were there to help him. He trusts them, even if he doesn't recognize them. Even if some things didn’t quite line up.

Prompt: PR002 - Danny woke up from being in a month long coma with no memory of how he got there or anything about his past. Thankfully, the doctors said that his memory would return eventually, and he had his loved ones nearby to tell him who he was and his life story. However, as his memory slowly returns, there's huge, distinct differences between what he's been told and the things he's remembering.

4) Recreational Botany

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: It wasn't her fault. She was merely curious, had only wanted to help. She didn't mean for this to happen. She just hoped it would wear off soon. (TW: Drug use - Weed)

Prompt: PR228 - Ghost weed.

5) Fool’s Errand (Ghost Prince AU)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: It had been hours since Danny flew off to fight Pariah Dark and Vlad took it upon himself to see what was taking the boy so long.

Prompt: PR065 - After their fight, Pariah Dark decides Danny has all the qualities he wants in an heir and forcibly adopts him. (Danny can either lose the fight to put him back in the Sarcophagus, or Pariah can get out again later.)

6) You Walked Right Into This

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Sometimes walking is more than just walking. (TW: Child Abuse)

Prompt: PR142 - Jack and Maddie seriously injure Danny Fenton, resulting in him being at their mercy and revealing he’s not exactly human. Now the parents have to decide wether to help him... or finish what they started. TW for serious injury and probably gore and angst.

7) What You Fear The Most (Scary Ghost Form AU)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: What if his ghost form was less human-looking? What if he looked every bit the monster his parents had always told him ghosts were?

Prompt: PR035 - Monstrous: AU where Danny's ghost form is monstrous and grotesque. On one hand, he doesn't have to worry about anyone recognizing him; on the other, it might be even harder to convince people that he's a good guy

8) Parallels

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: It's amazing the things you learn on a field trip.

Prompt: PR047 - Wacky reveals (ex: Danny drying up too quickly bc intangibility, Danny's drink stays cool way too long, people's electronic devices are always more charged when they've been near Danny, etc)

9) Cast Into Obsidian (Blind AU)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: The accident sent Danny to the hospital due to the damage to his eyes.

Prompt 01: PR092 - Write a more traditional ghost story. How would things change if ghost powers weren’t super powers, but closer to old horror movie tropes?

Prompt 02: PR259 - The Accident didn’t turn Danny into a half ghost, but instead allowed him to see, hear, and physically interact with the very real ghosts that are now pouring through the portal (Alternative: Danny’s always been clairvoyant, but after the accident he finally sees all of the ghosts he’d grown up talking to)

10) Where The Lines Overlap (Parallels part 2)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Maddie wants to know what her son has been keeping from her and today he finally decides to tell her. (TW: Outsider POV of PTSD flashbacks)

Prompt: PR091 - When he told his parents the truth, Danny had only ever bothered thinking about the stress of potential dissection. With that out of the way, and his secret fully accepted, he realised that there were a lot of unexpected things to adjust to... Write about something funny or awkward as the Fentons learn to live with a half ghost son!

11) Quoth the Librarian, “But I’m Alone?”

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Eleanor loved her job at the school library. She always made sure to come in early to make sure everything was just right before the students came. Today something beat her there.

Prompt: PR234 - Suddenly, there was a knock at the door...

12) The Baldr to My Odin (Ghost Prince AU part 2)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Pariah has recently acquired a son and wants to get to know him better.

Prompt: PR121 - Pariah Dark wakes up from his slumber and tries to live a peaceful existence in his castle practicing his swordsmanship and rebuilding his castle with all modern luxuries. But ghost from the ghost zone keep trying to challenge him to become king.

13) Tagged

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Dr. Flora Santos and her partner Dr. Carlos Rodriguez have lucked out as they have finally caught their most elusive subject.

Prompt: PR090 - Something physical happens to Danny’s body that makes it impossible to keep his secret identity, well, secret.

14) The Paleontologist and The Princess (Dino boy AU)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Danny had one true passion; Paleontology. So can anyone really blame him for getting excited when he thinks he comes face to face with a dinosaur? Even if it isn't a dinosaur after all.

Prompt: PR139 - "Actually, Dad? I wanted to be a paleontologist."

15) Lost In Transmission

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: There's a Ghost Expo happening at Casper High and Danny thinks it'll be fun to see all the incorrect ways people try to find ghosts. He learns the hard way that just because is old, doesn't mean it doesn't work.

Prompt: PRO58 - Casper high is holding a supernatural expo. Supposed paranormal experts are gathered in their gym to show off their expertise. Thinking it'll be a flop, since most employ methods that aren't modern, Danny and his friends go for fun. Only, it turns out that traditional ghost hunting techniques are more efficient than they seem.

16) Dark Familiarity (Role Swap AU)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Danny has been hunting ghosts for a while now. He has been ever since they ruined his life and a mysterious package arrived with everything he needed to exact his revenge. (TW: Character Death)

Prompt: PR095 - Danny and Valerie role swap (but not personality swap!!). How does Valerie fair as a ghost? How does Danny do as a ghost hunter (and what motivates him to do it in the first place?) [Shipping them is fine, but gen fics are preferred!]

17) I’ve Felt It Too

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Ember's having a bad day and Danny tries to help.

Prompt: PR079 - Phantom looked at Ember. Her eyes filled with tears. She gnashed her teeth and screamed. "You don't know what it's like."

And Phantom, with a heavy sigh whispered. "Yeah, I do..."

18) Repair All Of The Damage (Undead Danny AU)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: After the tragic loss of her son, Maddie vows to bring him back. No matter what. (TW: Death of a child)

Prompt: PR088 - tw; death of a child?

The Fentons had their daughter sure but they always wanted a son. due to an accident or complication with their son, Danny, died. They decide to put their ghostly knowledge to use and try to summon the spirit of their son back to them. They are ghost scientists. they know how to contain them after all. How much time that has passed between the death and the 'summoning' is up to you!

19) Out Of This World (And Into The Next)

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: What if when Danny first fought the Lunch Lady ghost she actually noticed how young he was. What if she didn't know he was more than just another ghost? What if when she commented on how underweight he was, she decided to help him?

Prompt 01: PR113 - Danny has an existential crisis because he’s dead

Prompt 02: PR242 - somehow, he's gotten younger

20) Spirit Versus Spunk

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Mr. Lancer isn't sure how he's supposed to be reacting to what he's seeing, but seeing as he's the adult here, he better make up his mind.

Prompt: PR019 - Danny and Wes Weston fight over a harmless ghost. This happens during a ghost attack.

21) The Group Project From Hell

AO3 or Tumblr

Summary: Danny and Tucker get stuck working with someone that they really don’t want to

Prompt: Everyone hates group projects, and that’s even if you like your group members. Tucker, Danny, and Elliot/Gregor all get teamed up for a group project, and Tucker and Danny need to refrain from killing him.

And as an added bonus I did make a Spotify playlist for this too! There's a song for each fic that I felt best fit the vibe of each story.

#phic phight #Phic collection master post #I've got a range of genres here #Or at least 3 that I kept bouncing between #they are as follows #angst #horror/dread #humor #also *slaps top of post* I fit so many different AU's in here #I did both Jack and Maddie are trying their very best AND these two should have never had children type fics #I'd love to know which one is your favorite!#Also me running in at the last second to add in the final phic

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harryssunflowerkiwi · 4 years ago

Text

‘KIWI’ Part 1.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader

Synopsis: You’re a famous designer. You meet Harry at a party and he is obsessed, but you’re not going to give in so easily.

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Not much for this part! Some sexual undertones.

A/N: hello loves! This is my first fanfic ever and I’m writing it on my phone so please bare with me. If there are any grammar or spelling mistakes I apologize, I will do my best! There will also likely be smut in the next part! And please keep in mind that this is PURE FICTION and is in no way an accurate depiction of Harry Styles! It’s just for entertainment purposes only :) So without further disclaimers, let’s get into part one of a multipart series called ‘KIWI’ very loosely based on Harry’s song. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think and be kind xox

🥝Outfits mentioned in this part 🥝

——————————————————————————-

SEPTEMBER 3rd 2020~

You woke up to the sound of ‘dreams’ by Fleetwood Mac blaring from your phone that sat on the glass night stand beside your bed indicating that it was indeed already 6:30AM and therefor the time for you to leave your oh-so comfortable bed. The sun was shining ever so slightly through the crack between the black silk curtains that hung over the large window directly across from your bed, stinging your barely awake eyes. With a bit of hesitation you rolled over to turn off the alarm and swung your bare feet over the side of the bed letting them touch the cold hardwood floor of your bedroom. You made your way to the on suit to pee and brush your teeth. As the icy mint of your toothpaste hit your tounge you looked in the large mirror above the sink, you look tired. Of course you look tired, you’ve been getting three hours of sleep every night for the past month. Your hair is disheveled, no doubt from whoever you had kicked out of your apartment the night before after yet another hookup. You didn’t regret it, of course, you never do. He was a nice guy. Well, he was a decent lay at the very least. And he seemed to enjoy himself too so there’s no harm.

Just as you finished washing your face you heard your phone go off again. “Of course” you thought as you slowly made your way back into your bedroom where you had lazily threw your phone back on your bed before going to bathroom. You picked it up and squinted your eyes slightly to make out the name of the person calling. ‘JEFF AZOFF’. You sighed lightly and pressed answer.

“Jeff It’s not even 7” you said in a somewhat faux dramatic tone.

“oh stop y/n I know you’ve been awake for a bit” he replied and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“What do you want” you sat back down on your bed and placed your left hand under your chin.

“I’m throwing a party at our place tonight and there’s no party without you”. You thought for a minute, knowing you couldn’t actually say no to a party, especially one being thrown by one of your best friends and his fiancé.

After about 30 seconds of silence you signed dramatically and said “You’re absolutely right, I’ll be there at 10 but next time tell me ahead of time. You are aware I have a business to run”.

Most of the morning was spent working through some designs, yelling at people for doing their jobs incorrectly, finalizing some details for London fashion week, and drinking copious amounts of coffee. You stood up from your “desk” (which was really just your kitchen island) with a stretch and looked down at your phone that was sitting on the counter, it was 8:43PM. Deciding that you should probably start getting ready for Jeff’s party, you walked back through your bedroom and into your walk-in closet to pick an outfit. “Alexa play get ready playlist” you yelled through your apartment and shortly after ‘girls in the hood’ started playing through out your apartment at full volume. Fully aware that Jeff’s spontaneous parties are generally pretty casual, after about 10 minutes you landed on your favourite pair of black Levi’s, a baby t that says “nobody’s pussycat”, a pair of black Gucci boots and grabbed your new fuzzy yellow and blue jumper in case you got cold (and also to throw over your shoulders for a bit of colour). Walking back into your bathroom you decided to do your makeup, since you had been working from home today and hadn’t put any on yet. You ended up doing some simple makeup, to not clash with the bright colors on your jumper and let your hair fall in loose curls. By the time you were fully ready it was just past 9:30, which was perfect because Jeff’s place was about a 20 minute drive from your apartment. You put your boots on, grabbed your yellow tinted Gucci glasses, your phone and keys and headed out.

Harry had gotten a very similar from Jeff as you, but it had come the day before. He was excited for the party, it’s been awhile since he’s been out anywhere but the studio. He’s been working on his new album tirelessly. Writing songs this time round was becoming increasingly more difficult, he’s felt dry of inspiration which is partially what he’s hoping a party will help with. Being around some new people and some of his closest friends. Jeff told him he was inviting some of his mates that Harry was yet to meet, which hopefully meant new experience outside the realm of ex girlfriends and band mates. He told Jeff he wouldn’t make it till around 11PM considering he’d be in the studio until 9 and he’d need time to make it home to change and shower before heading over and London traffic was an absolute nightmare, especially on Friday’s. Once he was done at the studio it was half nine, he sighed heavily as he left the lofty studio feeling the heavy weight of the pressure to write new material.

Once Harry arrived to his flat he immediately dropped his keys into the white and blue ceramic bowl he keeps by the door and swiftly kicked off his worn out vans. He was tired, but determined to make some worthy memories if not only for the sake of his future albums. Hell, maybe even just to blow off some steam. He needed that, badly. After making his way up the long spiral shaped stained oak stairs he walked briskly into the bathroom right across from his bedroom. He took his phone out of the back pocket of the light brown sweats he was wearing and glanced at the time 10:03PM. He let out another light sigh before hopping into the large black tiled shower. After a very quick shower filled with worried thoughts of where his career will go if he can’t write music, he hurried himself into his walk in closet with just a blush pink towel wrapped loosely around his hips and his phone in his left hand. Since he was already running slightly behind schedule and Jeff didn’t mention this party being anything but a casual gathering, he grabbed a pair of light blue YSL trousers and a simple white button down blouse to pair with his oh so worn down white vans, simply not having time to fuss about picking a new pair of shoes to match.

By the time Harry arrived at Jeff and Glenne’s flat it was five minutes to eleven. When he pulled up there were already around 10 cars parked around the house, some of which he recognized of course. He made his way up to the large front door after thanking his driver and knocked loudly, his various rings making a light clinking noise against the wood. About thirty seconds later the heavy door swung open to reveal Glenne who smiled widely when she saw him. “H!” She shrieked and pulled him in for a quick hug as she pulled him into the warm house.

“How’re ya Glenne” he smiled back enthusiastically as they entered.

“Good, good!, come let’s find Jeff and get you a drink” she said over the somewhat loud music that ran throughout the house. As Glenne guided him through the farmiliar house he took a moment to observe the people around him as they passed, seeing plenty of people that he knew well, a few he had met on a few occasions similar to this one, and some whom he’s never met. All together there were around 20 people, from what he could tell in passing.

Once they made it through each room of the well decorated house and into the bar area near the kitchen and dining area, he immediately saw Jeff leaning against the wall directly across from the doorway to the area. He was talking to a couple he recognized as Cathrine and Fred, two of their mutual friends, both worked in the music industry (Catherine being a well established sound engineer and Fred being one of the best producers in London). As they approached Jeff looked up and smiled excitedly at Harry and quickly pulled him in for a warm embrace. “Good t’ see you” Harry said as he smiled against his shoulder.

“Good to see you too H, glad you came. Nice to see you outside of that studio” Jeff replied with a small chuckle as they pulled away.

You had been at the party a total of fifty minutes and managed to down 3 vodka martinis and a glass of champagne without hesitation. You have always been able to hold your liquor, even though you didn’t usually drink more than twice a week. Not that much, you thought. Currently you were sitting on one of the two bright red sofas that sat Jeff and Glenne’s living room. You sat back against the velvet upholstery and had your left leg swung over yours and Glenne’s mutual friend Kassandra (or kassie as you called her).

You felt good, great even. It had been over 9 months since you had last seen any of these people. You had been living back and forth between New York City and London basically your whole adult life and just got back to London three days ago after being away for the most of the year. You were overjoyed to be back. You and Kassie were the only ones sitting on the couch to the right of the room, with a few others scattered throughout the living room. Some were standing and giggling by the fireplace, sipping on something strong you assumed based on how loudly they were conversing. There was a slightly less intoxicated couple sitting on the couch opposite of Kassie and yourself. You knew them well enough, although last time you saw them they were nothing more that friends and now they are very clearly together romantically. You didn’t mind though, not at all. You didn’t mind the noise, the increasingly drunker strangers and friends that passed through, you didn’t even mind the already almost-blackout strangers who thought they knew you and engulfed you in a rather tight hug. You felt relaxed and at home, as you always did when around Jeff and Glenne.

After about fifteen minutes of Jeff chatting Harry’s ear off about how excited he and Glenne were to be getting married, Glenne grabbed Harry’s arm. “Oh my god! H, I haven’t even introduced you to everyone yet have I?” She asked enthusiastically.

“I don’t believe you ‘ave” he replied with a small chuckle as he ran his free hand through his rapidly growing curls.

Before he knew it Glenne was guiding him through the house introducing him to a few people he hadn’t met yet. As they made their way into the living room he saw two girls sipping on what looked like martinis sitting on one of the couches. The two women were partially intertwined. One of them stood out though, almost like she controlled the room without even speaking. Harry stared at her, barely listening to Glenne talking beside him. She was incredibly beautiful, he thought. Her eyes and hands were effortlessly working together to capture everyone’s attention without even speaking. She wore a confidence he hadn’t seen before, even with his vast experience with super models and other celebrities alike. She looked like a royal, even in casual attire. He stood there, in the doorway completely stunned and rather confused as to why on earth he had never met her before.

“Earth to H?” Glenne said as she overdramatically waved her left hand in front of his face.

“Oh, um.. sorry, what were ya sayin’?” He replied as he quickly moved his gaze away from the stunning girl and back to his friend.

“Nevermind, cmon I need to indroduce you to Y/N and Kassie.” She mumbled quickly as she pulled him by his hand towards the very girl he was gawking at just moments before.

In the middle of Kassie making a dad joke in classic Kassie form, you spot Glenne walking over to where you are sitting rather excitedly with someone you immediately recognize as Harry Styles. Of course you knew who he was, and that Jeff was his manager and friend but you never had the chance to actually meet him. With both your schedules being as intense and unpredictable as they were it just never happened. You were a fan of his music, he is a very talented man but you definitely didn’t consider yourself a “stan”.

As they approached, Glenne turned to Harry and said “H, this is kassie!” As she pointed at her.

“Kassie works for Universal. Kassie this is Harry” she continued.

“S’ nice to meet you, Kassie” Harry said with a polite smile as he bent over to shake her hand lightly.

“And this” Glenne started as she turned her attention onto you. “Is one of my best friends, y/n! She’s the designer for KIWI” she finished with a smirk and a quick pat on your knee.

“Designer and founder actually love” You said as you glanced at Harry.

You extended your right arm out for him to shake and said “lovely to meet you, Harry. I’m y/n”. He seemed nervous which made you smirk a little. You thought it was cute.

As you placed your much smaller hand in his large ring clad one he responded with “S’ lovely to meet you too y/n. Big fan of your work”. His hand was a little sweaty but very strong and the shake itself was demanding which you liked.

Harry didn’t like how nervous he was talking to you, he’s not usually so anxious to speak to beautiful women. But, something about your incredibly strong eye contact and the way you said his name made his knees want to give out. He hadn’t lied when he said he is a fan of yours, he genuinely is. He loves your designs. Your ability to create pieces he’d never seen before, pieces completely out of the norm yet so easily fashionable was astounding to him. He had even worn some of your designs on tour and for a few interviews.

You took a sip of the martini that you held delicately in your right hand with a small hum in appreciation for his compliment. “M’ a fan of yours also, fine line is great” you reply as you glance down at your glass to find it empty. Harry takes a moment to revel in the fact that you enjoyed his latest work, before seeing your empty glass.

“Let me get ya’ a drink” he blurted out, not wanting the conversation to end.

“Mm I’ll come with” you agreed with a smile. Harry grabbed your hand again to help you up off the couch and away from Kassie who was now giggling with Glenne about something.

Harry keeps your hand in his as he guides you towards the bar. Once the two of you approach the bar he reaches for the glass in your hand and asks “what would ye like?”. You move your glance away from his and over to the large bar.

“I think we should do shots” you say with a big smile that makes Harry’s heart beat just a bit quicker.

“Shots it is then, love” he says with a small chuckle as he puts your dirty glass down and grabs two clear glass shot glasses.

“What liquor are we thinkin’?” He asked as he looks over the options.

“Oooh tequila for sure” you say confidently as you point at the bottle of expensive tequila.

“Mmm great choice” he praises as he grabs the bottle and proceeds to pour you each a shot.

“Cheers” you smirk as you grab your shot glass and clink it against the one in his hand. You make eye contact again as you down the shots in sync. As you lower your now empty shot glasses you realize how close you are to him, only about a foot and a half. Being this close to him makes you realize how handsome he is, his eyes are incredibly green and his shoulders are perfectly wide. His chocolate coloured curls sat harmoniously atop his head, one piece falling in front of his face seemingly by accident but it looked as it is meant to be there.

As Harry brought his shot glass away from his mouth and felt the strong burning sensation of the tequila making its way down his throat he stared at you. You’re eyes ostensibly checking him out, or atleast that’s what he convinced himself you were doing. In fact the combination of the warmth he felt in his stomach from the strong liquor and the minimal proximity between you and him was making him feel slightly dizzy. You truly were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He wanted to know everything about you, where you were born, your passions, your worst fears, what makes you wet, what makes you angry, who you care about. Literally anything and everything you were willing to tell him he was more than happy to hear about.

“How’d you know Jeff and Glenne?” Harry finally asked. You smiled as you thought about how you met them.

“Jeff and I have been friends since collage, and I met G about a year after we graduated. I indroduced them actually” you explained as your smile grew at the fond memories.

“Jeff manages you right?” you asked as you turned back to the bar and started making yourself another gin martini. Harry nodded as he watched you

“yeah e’ does, but we’re great mates too. A’ve been since before he started managing meh” he said as he turned towards you a bit more

“s’ crazy we a’vent met before this” he continued as you finished making your drink.

“It is, a shame really” you smirked. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to powder room” you took another sip of your drink as you began to walk away.

Harry watched you walk away, shamelessly staring at your bum and god was it nice. He was stunned to be quite frank. He wasn’t completely sure what it was about you (other than the obvious of course) that made him so enamoured by you but he couldn’t help it. He ran his hands over his face and let out a huff. Looking around and taking in his surroundings properly for the first time since he laid eyes on you, he noticed less people were there. He decided he’d find Jeff so he could more subtly wait for you to return.

When you come out of the bathroom you look around and notice there are seemingly only a few people left at the party. You grab your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the time, the screen illuminates and shows 1:37AM. You let out a small huff, put your phone back in your pocket and decide to go find Jeff. You walk down the hall from the bathroom and into the living room to find Jeff and Glenne sitting on the couch you were sat at earlier. Beside them was Kassie and sat on the couch directly adjacent from them was Harry and a man you’d never met before.

“Hi loves” you say as you strut over to sit next to the man you’d never met. “Don’t believe we’ve met, I’m y/n” you say confidently with a smile and extend your hand for him to shake, which he does.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitch. I’m Harry’s guitarist” he says with a slightly awkward smile.

“Oh lovely” you nod. “Y/n is the designer for KIWI, Mitch” Harry says as he tilts his head forward a bit to look at you over where Mitch is sitting in between the two of you. You giggle slightly at the sudden interruption.

“Oh! That’s sick. We all love your work” Mitch says with an even bigger smile as he looks at you again.

“Thank you” you reply as you smile back at him just as enthusiastically.

“H is pretty much obsessed really, pretty sure he bought out most of your fall collection” Mitch gushes as he nudges his head towards Harry slightly. Harry gives Mitch a bit of a menacing look as he feels his cheeks heat up.

“Mmm obsessed is he?” You smirk as you move your glance back to Harry and take a long sip of your drink.

“Anybody who isn’t would be ‘ave to be blind, love” Harry said as his lips turned up into a smile, showing off his infamous dimples.

Just as you were about to reply to Harry’s bold compliment you heard Kassie let out a loud yawn from across the other couch. You turned your attention towards her as she said “think I’m gonna head out guys, it’s getting late”. She got up and Jeff and Glenne did as well. Kassie gave Jeff a hug.

“Think I’ll be going also, I haven’t watered my cactus since yesterday” you giggled as you walked over to hug Glenne and say your goodbyes. As soon as you let go of your embrace you noticed Harry was stood directly beside you.

“I’ll walk you t’ the door” Harry insisted and you nodded, following him to the front door.

“Love you Jeff! Love you G!” You yelled behind you.

Once stood in the entry way with Harry he said “really was lovely t’ meet ya”. You smiled and gave him a short hug.

“was lovely to meet you too Harry, thanks for havin a shot with me”. You went to grab the door handle to leave but Harry stopped you by grabbing your wrist lightly.

“Do ya think I could get ya numba’?” He asked as your gaze met his yet again.

You hummed in faux thought “now where’s the fun in that, love” you replied with a smirk as you turned back around, releasing your wrist from his grasp, opened the door and left.

#solo harry #harry x reader #harry styles #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #oneshots #Harry #one direction #x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #mitch rowland #fine line #series #harry styles x fem!reader

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ophelialoveshandsomemen · 4 years ago

Text

Cristo y Tú vivís en mi corazón.

Capítulo Dos.( second chapter.)

Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, seizures, medical procedures, self indulgent use of an ABBA song, Catholicism, maybe a swear or two. If you are under 18…please go to sleep instead and do not read my works!!!!

Medikua; is Basque for Doctor. Espagnole is French for Spaniard. I realize he’s not a spaniard but hispanic however she doesn’t know that and espagnole can sorta mean someone who speaks spanish if you will.

And yeah, I used an ABBA song. Guilty pleasure of mine and -Fernando- just shouts romance with El Catorce for me, so voila! Enjoy!

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Medikua Hermenigilde Hortense, or Doc Hortense as he is more commonly known, is Isabeau's nearest neighbour from 6 and 3/4's of a mile away. A kind 88 year old man of Basque and French descent and the best medical man this side of the Atlantic, he came over to ask Isabeau if she could perhaps spare him an onion or two for his supper. Then promptly found her hunched over a strange, injured Hispanic man almost a km into her 'woods'. Luckily, he rode the donkey cart in. Making the delicate job of transporting said caballero back to the house much more stress free.

Isabeau sat on the floor of the cart, the ragged cotton quilt he keeps on his seat to fend off the cold now draped across her lap to cushion the patient's head. As his donkey walked the trail to her house, the doc turned his head towards the back. The stranger is still unconscious, and Isabeau gently brushes his hair from his forehead, with her right hand keeping steady pressure on his wounds.

That punctured lung is worrying him. Not because he doesn't have the equipment to treat such an injury. Of course he has the correct equipment, he is, after all, ex-military and he knows people, for God's sake. But because it's a punctured lung caused by a machine gunshot, something the good doctor can spot a mile away. Those are never pretty or easy to treat and almost always end fatally. How this young pup has stayed alive for this long is beyond him! Must be his guardian angel putting in much needed overtime...

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Isabeau has officially gone into shock. Or a panic attack. In this situation there can't be much difference, one is just as useless as the other. She vaguely wonders if it's a result of falling out of the cherry tree or of finding a badly wounded, Hispanic man in her woods. Both, in all honesty.

She still cradles his head in her lap and is monitoring his breathing almost constantly.

'"Doc, his breathing is getting to be quite laboured. Can I do something?"

Doc hears the heavy worry saturating her tone. And makes the donkey pick up his pace.

" Alright, try hanging his legs off the end of the cart, get his blood to rush to his feet instead of into his lungs. And settle his back fully on your lap to elevate his heart level even more. But do it slowly, girl. Slow and steady."

He turned back his head many times as he ordered her to ensure she didn't accidently jostle the boy wrong. He had noticed her complexion become paler. "Breathe, Isabeau, breathe! I don't need the both of you passed out in a donkey cart on me. I'm far too old to deal with this all by myself."

She wordlessly nodded. Her returning nausea didn't thank her for it. She subconsciously and minutely tightened her grip around the caballero's shoulders, consequentially pressing his scalp further against her stomach, mildly alleviating her need to lose her guts. She could feel his shallow breath in the crook of her left arm, quick, wheezing in and outs with a few of the inhales resulting in short choking fits. By now, both her arms and her naked thighs made her appear to be a human incarnation of a battlefield, stained scarlet with the lifeblood of young men, ( or of one young man, in this instance).

His heartbeat, Isabeau could faintly feel thrumming in a rhythm too slow and unsteady for her comfort.

She began to sing. Softly. For her comfort. For his comfort. In order to forget the pain in her head from the fall. In hopes to ground the wounded man in her arms. To gently guide him back to the land of the living through his sense of hearing. Isabeau knows from both her studies in university and her own brief dabblings in mild hypnosis and lucid subconsciousness that a person who has lost consciousness, either from sleep, or pain, or loss of blood, can still register, deep in the recesses of their mind, sounds and voices and even full conversations. But they especially hear singing.

So, Isabeau sings.

The melody is the first that pops up in her brain, a song from one of the numerous cd's she keeps in her 2001 Ford f-250 King Ranch. An ABBA Gold cd, if she recalls correctly. She can't remember all the words, so instead she hums when her mind is blank of lyrics.

Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I remember long ago another starry night like this.

They hit a tiny bump in the road, not even enough to bother the steed pulling the cart, but more than enough to send a jolt of pain coursing through the caballero.

In the firelight, Fernando

The pain noticeable in the wince upon his face, causing the girl to expect him to awaken soon. However much she dreads to see the pain etched on his brow, at least he would show more sign of life than now. She continues to hum.

You were singing to yourself and softly strumming your guitar!

A thought briefly flitters across her mind. She wonders if he plays guitar? Or perhaps he sings? Maybe his voice is strong, loud and boisterous. Or is it smooth and deep? Or he dances? Perhaps none of these and he prefers to sits in the sidelines and enjoy the talents of others instead...

And I'm not afraid to say the roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry!

" Almost there cerisette, which door?" "Uh...the back garden door has no stairs and is the closest to my bedroom." "Oh, your bedroom huh!" "My bed's on the floor. Easier to care for him that way."

There was something in the air that night. The stars were bright, Fernando!

Her chorus much slower and more weary than the original.

They were shining down for you and me, for liberty, Fernando!

The doctor steers the cart off the driveway and towards the house.

Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret.

They round the last corner of the house, stopping a few feet away from the door, back end turned to the door.

If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando!

******************************************************************************************* Three Hours Later....

Isabeau was exhausted.

They'd been barely successful in carrying the still unknown man into her bed before he slightly awoke, only for him to begin having seizures while she went away in her pickup to Doc's house, grabbing the direly needed equipment for the procedure. Mercifully, he'd only had two minor fits before Doc stabilized him enough to treat the wounds.

Which had taken nearly three hours.

She'd held his hand through most of it. But no one, including herself, could genuinely tell you if she'd done that for his comfort or her own...

She honestly can't recall much else.

She stood in the bathroom down the hall from her bedroom, furiously but tiredly scrubbing at the blood stubbornly caught beneath her fingernails, staining her hands, sticking to the plush hairs on her arms, seeped deep into the fabric of the old yellow plaid shirt she'd swapped her lacy 70's top for...

Her thoughts were disrupted by the good old doc gently placing his freshly washed hands upon her shoulder.

" Get some rest cerisette. The sun may still be awake but you shouldn't be. The caballero is safe now...and so are you. " He sighs. " I am going home for a few hours. Call me if you need me. But get some rest."

With that, Doc Hortense leaves the room. And yes, he did grab a proffered onion on the way.

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She carefully pads across her own bedroom, silent as a Trappist monk, to not disturb her espagnole, as she's begun to call him in her mind. She decides against simply grabbing her sleep clothes and changing somewhere else. Instead she stays standing before her dresser, in full view of son espagnole if he were to awaken. Which he doesn't. She swaps her soiled plaid shirt and jeans shorts for a comfortable pair of well-worn navy flannel pants and a soft long sleeved beige cotton undershirt. No underpinnings either. Girl likes her freedom too much to subject herself to that.

Still a tad too wired up to fully rest, what with the time only being around 8:30 or so, Isabeau cautiously rummages through his minor belongings. Carelessly thrown to the side whilst his life was in danger, now she takes everything in her hands as if it's a precious object. She gingerly folds the white linen jacket, the torn beige button-up, the filthy knit cotton undershirt and the striped wool pants, putting them to the side to be washed later.

Next come the gun holsters and the bullet belts, made of beautifully well crafted leather, the stitching somehow immaculate. Without a doubt handmade. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Isabeau gets the barest nudge that there is no way in hell this was made within the last 50 years. They seem worn: however, they can't be older than a three or four years.

What intrigues her the most about the belts and the holsters, besides being nearly completely full, is the embroidered cross upon the pistol holster. No outlaw trusts that much in God, but no soldier dresses like this. Perhaps a revolutionary from Southern America way back...in...the...

She quickly makes the connection between the guns and the age of the leather and the medallion of La Virgen, the fact that he was shot by a machine gun, mass manufactured and distributed to many governments by Americans in the time she's thinking of.. She may be wrong, but an inkling tells her that she probably isn't. She walks hurriedly back to the bed, sits gently cross-legged on the side where she will rest and softly stares at her sleeping espagnole. Several minutes, or maybe hours, pass and then, she whispers, to the unconscious man, to the dark, to the angels, to God, to herself.

"There's a Cristero in my bed!"

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If you would like to be tagged let me know!

#el catorce #for greater glory #for greater glory fanfiction #victoriano 'el catorce' ramirez x ofc #Victoriano Ramirez #oscar isaac #character fandom #catholicism #tw; blood #tw; medical procedures #tw; mentions of seizures

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fericita-s · 4 years ago

Text

The Princess and the Barbarian

A Helnik tale, rated T. As Matthias recovers from a gunshot wound, Nina tells him the story of the Princess and the Barbarian. He interrupts a lot as his Fjerdan sensibilities are bothered and the Ravkan propaganda gets to be unbearable. Thank you @theburnbarreljester for beta-ing and for reminding me that we’re all here for the biting and trembling of lips.

Previous Chapters

Chapter 6

Inessa studied the landscape from the edge of the cave. She could see endless green sloping hills, the curved slice of a river, and the rocky path that led to her place of captivity. Her bound wrists were staked to the rocky ground of the cave and she could loosen the metal and slide out of the chains. She usually did for the first hour the barbarian was gone each day. But as the sun moved to the center of the sky, she knew it best to chain herself again and stay inside the wide, hard-packed confines of the cave to keep her ability to escape a secret. He seemed to think her powers were limited to fabrics and she didn’t want to alert him on what exactly she could do. She’d leave as soon as she knew where she was and had something better on her feet than her ruined dancing shoes.

Her best guess was that the barbarian had her in the woods near Halmhend, well into Fjerdan territory. She’d have to cross either the Permafrost to get to Chernast or go south through the forest to Ulensk to make it back to Ravka. If she escaped through the ice, she was likely to lose fingers or worse on the journey. And the nightly shrieks and howls from the wolves coming from deep within the woods were enough to make her long for even the barbarian’s comfort.

He rarely gave it.

On the first night he’d told her to stop her weeping for the dead with a harsh “The dead can’t hear you mourn but the living can. I might not be able to save you from the wolves or my countrymen if they come in force.” Then he’d made her burn her only remaining item of clothing and as the chemise went up in flames he’d given her his roughspun shirt. It still bore his scent even weeks later though she probably could have fabrikated that away if she wished. It felt like armor, being surrounded by the smell of the tundra and the smoke of campfires, even the trace of his sweaty musk. Like the volcra or the howling wolves or enemies she might find in this land would pass over her if she was disguised in his shirt and scent. It was a small comfort, but she clung to it. When he was off hunting or asleep she liked to run the fabric between her fingers, to run her hands underneath where the coarse material hit her thighs, not quite mourning that she’d never had a wedding night, but curious about what it would feel like for this barbarian to make her fully his.

He stayed bare chested in the cave and Inessa studied him like works of art she’d seen at the Grand Palace. He had cords of muscle along his arms and across his chest and his back was made up of hard planes that she surprised herself by wanting to run her hands across, to feel if Ravkan and Fjerdan bodies were made the same.

Once he’d thrown an elk carcass at her feet and demanded she cook and clean it, but she’d retched instead. Disgusted, he prepared the meat himself and then ate with an intensity and such a lack of decorum that Inessa stared, horrified and transfixed. He fed her too, bringing a jeweled goblet of mead to her lips and calling her “princess” in a way that was very different from the servants at Os Alta, like he was mocking her for being so useless.

He’d spent the next few days rendering the fat and making soap, stripping and treating the hide, drying the remaining meat in long strips. She’d watched it all without offering to help, but unable to look away from the way his arms looked while ripping bone from sinew, how the steam off of the cook fire made his long hair curl at his temple.

The cave was primitive but did have some comforts. She slept on what she assumed must have been his bed - a pile of furs and a hay pallet - while he slept by the entrance of the cave with his back to her. There were goblets like the one he offered her at meal times and stacks of animal pelts and barrels of mead and kvas arranged neatly against the side of the mountain.

Every night before he moved her chains to the bed and tied her there instead of the middle of the cave he asked about the Shadow Fold. He called her witch, he called her an abomination, he called her a privileged princess who didn’t know the havoc that such evil invited into the midst of the living. And each night she told him she had no idea how it was formed, who formed it, or how to extinguish it. She wanted to yell “It made me a widow and an orphan! Don’t you think I know the cost?” but cried silently instead, fabrikating the furs into the same soft heaviness as her quilts in the Grand Palace. Each morning she turned it back to fur, knowing he’d make her burn what he found changed.

She walked back into the cave and recited her daily prayers to the saints, beseeching them to safekeep her brother The Emperor and his wife and children. To keep the volcra confined to the Shadow Fold and to banish it forever. To see her in her suffering and give her a way to return home.

She heard the barbarian’s heavy footsteps behind her and then his voice, angry and rough. “What spells are you muttering, witch?”

“I’m saying prayers for my family. I can pray for you too if you’d like.” She turned to look at him and he scowled.

“I’ll take none of your prayers. Only Djel is the true maker and god.”

“You were gone longer today. Where did you go?” she asked, hoping he might mention the name of a town or a river that would help her figure out where they were, how she could leave.

“I was buying you this,” he said, throwing a bundle at her. “You can only have it if you promise not to alter it. No magic that would attract the volcra or widen the Shadow Fold.”

She began to unwrap the fabric strips and shook out the material inside. “It doesn’t work like that, fabrikating doesn’t - but then she stopped, struck by the absurdity of what he had given her. “This is a Fjerdan dress.”

“Yes. It is. Because you are in Fjerda. And because it is not proper for you to be wearing only my shirt as the days begin to turn colder.”

Inessa let one hysterical giggle leave her throat. That was what he found improper? Her wearing his shirt? He’d kidnapped her from her family and had her chained in a cave. And now he wanted her to wear the dress of a Fjerdan woman. She wished she’d studied their customs more closely, she might have been able to guess which town this was from based on the embroidered hem or the silver buttons on the sleeves. But then, another idea took form.

“If you want me in a new dress, please, let me bathe first. It’s been weeks.” Perhaps she could glimpse more of the terrain, gain a better understanding of where she was and how she could leave.

He looked at her for a long moment, a flicker of something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. “Alright. I’ll take you to where the beavers have made a dam.”

He unchained her from the ground but kept her hands bound, which meant she stumbled as she picked her way across the rocky path. He walked behind her, catching her under the elbow when she lost her footing and once grabbing her waist when she pitched towards the edge of the cliff. New clothes would help her in an escape attempt, but unless she had better shoes she wouldn’t get far.

The small pond created by the dam was clear and cold and Inessa gasped as she put her foot in. “Will you unchain me? So I can bathe?”

“No.” He thrust a chunk of the elk fat soap into her hands, a hard glint in his eye. “I will bathe you.”

She looked at him just as fiercely and then pulled his shirt over her head, shimmying awkwardly around the chains, so that she was standing bare before him with the shirt bunched up over the restraints and the tightly clutched soap. He pulled a knife out of its sheath by his waist and cut the shirt away from her.

“I’ll burn this tonight. Get rid of the witchy stench.”

Inessa was horrified to feel the prick of hot tears in her eyes as she stood naked in front of him, listening to the same insults he’d thrown at her daily. She turned and walked into the water, biting her lip against the cold and then submerging herself fully, trembling as soon as she surfaced for air with her eyes closed. She wiped at her eyes with her bound hands and then the barbarian was there, holding her head in his hands and using his thumbs to wipe the water from her eyes.

The water and his words were cold, but everywhere his hands touched her felt hot. He was still warm from their walk to the dam and she could feel it radiating off of his bare chest as he ran his hands along her forearms and then her upper arms and shoulders.

“I should not have brought you here to defile these waters. All waters feed Djel and are fed by him. We drown witches in these waters for his glory.” He rubbed his fingers in between hers and then scrubbed at her fingernails with his and she was acutely aware that he’d shucked his pants and boots and was as bare as she was. “But we have a saying, the water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive. Djel will forgive me for this transgression; it is in the service of keeping his people safe from your magic.”

“I don’t need you forgiveness, or that of the ice, either,” she snapped, shivering. The water was icy cold and with his words came the sensation that she was being drowned in them.

He took the soap from her and rubbed it over his hands until he formed a lather and then carefully slid his fingers under the chains around her wrists. He scrubbed her gently and silently and she tried to control her gasping breaths by calling to mind memories of home.

“My mother’s soaps smelled of lavender,” she said and he grunted in response. “For her evening baths. Jasmine if it was in the morning.” She closed her eyes again, trying to remember the scent of it, the way it felt comforting and certain. The way it meant her mother was near and she was loved.

“Are Ravkans so dirty that they must bathe twice a day?” Her eyes flew open and she scowled.

“You're the barbarian! You haven’t bathed since well before you stole into Ravka, I’d wager.” She shivered and he dropped her hand.

“I’m bathing now aren’t I?” He handed her the soap and then went under the water. He emerged with his back to her and she watched as droplets of water ran down his back. His long hair was dripping and darker now that it was wet and he soon had it in a lather. He went under again then rose towards her, reaching for her chained hands and pulling her to himself. He took the soap from her, worked to make suds, and then buried his fingers into her wet hair.

It felt exquisite.

He scratched at her scalp and then down to the base of her neck and onto her shoulder blades, rubbing more soap along her back and down towards the curve of her bottom. She closed her eyes again and gave herself over the sensation of being made clean as his hands explored new places: her thighs, her ankles, a palm across her breasts that made her gasp and bite her lip again. He held her elbow as he dipped her under the water and when she emerged free of the filth and blood that had clung to her for weeks, she felt new.

He gave her a blanket to wrap herself in and they sat on the rocks at the edge of the dam watching the dying light of the sun as it edged closer to the horizon across the vast Permafrost to the west. They were farther east then she’d realized. Perhaps close to Chernast.

His hair was drying quickly and he ran his hands through it, tugging at knots in the golden strands. He looked young like this, perhaps even as young as she was. She might have offered to braid his hair, but her hands were shaking from the cold annd her own wet hair and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if her hands were in his hair. Strangle him? Rub it between her fingers and press her face against it? Both seemed like a good idea.

“We leave now. Before it gets dark.” He pulled his clothes on but she made no movement to put on the dress he’d given her. She definitely couldn’t manage it with the chains and even if she wasn’t chained, she’d only ever been dressed by lady’s maids.

He turned as he finished pulling up his pants and used his chin to point to the dress. “Put it on.”

“I can’t do it like this,” she said, raising her arms and showing him the chains.

He was silent as he walked to her and picked up the dress, separating it into three pieces and a pair of pantalettes that fell to the ground. He knelt down and held the layered skirts open and she stepped into them, stumbling into his chest as she lifted her leg. Her loose, wet hair encircled his head and he drew back as if stung. He rose and then turned her so her back was to him and cinched the ties at her waist, looping them roughly into knots. Then he spun her and undid the chains around her wrists with a key from his pocket.

“Steady now. Put your arms through.” He helped her into the bodice and then the woolen vest that covered it, his fingertips skimming the exposed skin at her waist before he drew the laces closed and tied them as well, his head bent over his work and inches from her chest.

“What’s your name?” she asked, like he was a new lady’s maid and she’d have to remember his name for when they repeated this routine in the morning before a gilded mirror and a porcelain washbasin.

“Iver.” He picked up the pantalettes and bent down to one knee as he held them for her to step into. She placed her hands on his shoulder.

“Thank you for the dress, Iver. And for the bath. My name is Inessa.”

“I know,” he said and then chained her hands once more before he stepped away from her, walking towards the path that had led them here. “It will be dark soon. Best leave now.”

She followed him back to the cave in silence. He built a fire and cooked a rabbit and he asked the same question he asked every night. And even though her answer was the same, everything changed.

“Inessa, do you know anything about the darkness that made the fold? About the fold itself?”

“No, Iver. I don't.”

He looked at her across the flickering light cast by the fire and she thought of how much the shadows it cast looked like the volcra. How the red flames looked like the bright bursts of blood she’d seen the day of the volcra attack. He moved to her slowly and then reached for the chains at her wrists, undoing the lock and then rubbing her wrists as the heavy links fell away. Inessa looked at his hands on hers, so large and now so gentle, and when he pulled away and stood, she wanted to reach out and draw him back down. She wanted to touch every inch of his skin, to know the way each cell melded together, to feel him as he joined with her, to understand the making of him.

“There. You sleep like that now,” he said, and then stalked off from the cave and into the night.

#helnik #helnik fan fic #matthias helvar #nina zenik #post crooked kingdom but Matthias lives #the princess and the barbarian

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 6

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. There's non-explicit smut in this part!

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Remember that questionable morals remark? Yea, this chapter is the reason. Y/N, girl, you gotta stop... But at least it's kinda funny. Okay, it's pretty damn hilarious.

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She is amazing. I larb her. 💙

"And then I was like 'No Way!' and he was like 'Totally' and that's how I met Tony Stark," I finished excitedly, opposite a laughing Mr. Davies. The story of how I met Iron Man was a total hit with the teacher and my vigorous mimicking of the facial expressions that described my feelings during the time had my teacher busting a gut something loud.

"I honestly have some trouble believing that but - hey, what the hell, he's a billionaire superhero, it's basically expected for him to be a little strange," When his laughing fit was over, Mr. Davies reminded me he was, in fact, a psychology doctor. There was serious brain power under that easygoing attitude.

I expected detention to be bearable in his company but Mr. Davies rose above expectations, welcoming me with another cup of tea and some colouring pages. Admittedly, I contemplated stealing some - those mandalas were really captivating.

"Oh, he's strange alright, but nothing I can't handle," I twirled a pencil between my fingers.

Mr. Davies grinned knowingly, too knowingly for my comfort, and I had no choice but to make a stone face before looking him in the eye.

He smirked. "So, anything else interesting for you going on?"

"Nah, not much. Really looking forward to being done with high school and going out into the bigger world, y'know."

"You turned 18 already, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "Maybe get a job, something part-time? OsCorp always hands these leaflets out, they're looking for lab assistants."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't need a job. Plus, I'm sure Bruce-err, Doctor Banner would smash me if I went to work at OsCorp," I glossed over my slip-up, hoping Mr. Davies would do the same. But no such luck happened.

"Right. Me and Bruce, we actually go way back," He smiled, stirring his tea. I perked up in interest. "We studied psychology together, sat next to each other in half of our classes. It's a shame what happened to him but I hope he's happy now," Mr. Davies was smiling earnestly, looking out of the window where rain had started flowing down on the glass.

"Really? That's cool," I said, lacking anything else to add to his statement.

"He used to skip classes and always lost his glasses even though they'd be on top of his head," My teacher continued. "Banner was actually quite a rowdy student," He added with a smirk.

"Hah, he still routinely loses his glasses, although he wears them on a string around his neck now," I chuckled fondly. Bruce was such a dork.

I chatted with Mr. Davies some more, just casual conversation about everything and nothing in between. His parents were hippies, he had two moms and one dad and according to him, Thor was very overrated. I didn't even notice we were up in each other's space until our knees brushed when Mr. Davies - "Call me Will" - was showing me the pictures of his cats, dog and lizard. I figured that as the hippy child, personal space was kind of a foreign concept to him - and that rang true, I've seen Will give out more shoulder grabs and high fives than anyone else sans the gym teacher.

The clock's ding announced 6 PM and I quickly gathered my things, hastily saying goodbye. I was stopped though.

"If you don't mind a quick stop at my house, I can drop you off. It's pouring buckets outside and I would hate you to get sick," Will spoke casually.

Technically, I knew he was bending some rules of conduct. But it was also 55° outside and the water coming from the sky was unlikely to be warm. So I caved without any guilty conscience, obediently following Mr. Davies -Will- to the parking lot where a new-ish Jeep Cherokee proudly stood amongst several older, less gently used cars. With New York city traffic being the way it is, I didn't text Bruce yet, fully expecting for the trip to take a whole hour if not more.

Thankfully the parking gods were merciful and Will managed to find a spot right across his two-story townhouse. "You're welcome to come in if you feel comfortable, I just need to fetch some documents," He said.

And that's where I fucked up. I nodded affirmatively, I followed him through the door and made myself as comfortable as I could on his living room couch. It was a cozy home, his iguana chilled opposite me in it's terrarium and the little mutt that was his dog really reminded me of the atrocity that my parents used to own before they had me. It yipped and yapped, wagging it's bushy tail at me and demanding pets.

The steaming tea mug was dutifully placed in my hand by Will who hopped upstairs immediately after that, skipping steps. I watched the man with a benign stare: he'd removed his sweater and I could see the defined muscles of his back and the admirable backside that he possessed. There was no harm in looking respectfully, right?

I was halfway through my mug when Will came back down, brandishing a truly impressive stack of manila folders, setting it on a nearby table before sitting down on the other end of the couch, maintaining a respectful distance between us. We chatted some more and the more he spoke about his current research, the more passionate he became; by the end of his truly epic description of the effects that anti-depressants have on the learning process of depressed adolescents, I was mesmerized by the way his pink lips formed words.

Sitting with my calves tucked under my butt, leaning against the armrest , I was a goner. He caught my eye, diverting his own stare from my exposed legs to the side, blinking furiously. It calmed my spirits somewhat, knowing that I wasn't the only one affected by the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. My mug landed on the low table with a loud clang as I leaned forward, the sleeves of my sweater accidentally brushing against his leg.

Will cleared his throat and I startled, tilting my head up towards him in confusion. He was staring at me with a mix of fear and delight in his eyes, like a boy preparing for his first kiss. I would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if the darkness in his stormy grey eyes didn't make my own breath do somersaults somewhere between my lungs and my esophagus.

Fifteen minutes later, both my sweater and my panties were thrown somewhere in the furthest end of the room and those thin lips were making me see stars. For some reason he was convinced I'd had only typical teenage disappointing sex up to this point and was really eager to show me what a grown man can do. I mean, I wasn't complaining, he was really, really good with his mouth - but I didn't have all night, so I flipped the tables and showed off my own oral skills until he had to bodily remove me from his dick and lift me onto it. Every movement felt surreal, like I was living in a dream. Despite my common sense yelling expletives at me, I kissed Will back with twice the heat and none of the finesse, each of us reaching the peak nearly in sync.

"Can I get that ride to the tower now?"

Will let out a decidedly unmanly squeak when he realised where exactly he'd be taking me after we did what we'd done. I smiled at him in hopes of calming down the man but it seemed it came out more predatory. He shivered, his dick twitching within me.

I texted Bruce the same time I was getting into Will's car. My brain was still somewhat in a state of shock and I used the brief moment to tidy up my hair and makeup, taking note of my sex-flushed face. I only hoped I didn't stink like man-sweat and Will's cologne.

Another realization was startled out of me: that was my first time having had sex without a condom. I was on birth control since I was fourteen so pregnancy wasn't a scare; currently, I was more worried about the mildly uncomfortable, wet feeling in my panties where my teacher's cum had pooled out.

Yikes. That moment Will took a careful monitoring of my facial expression and it took me a lot to keep it somewhere between neutral and happy. Internally, I was freaking the fuck out, torn between horror and incredible arousal.

It morphed into full fledged mortification when I saw Bruce's lab coat from afar, the man standing next to the entrance door. Having had a dumb moment, I texted Banner that a former schoolmate of his was the one giving me a ride and it really shouldn't have been a surprise that Bruce would go downstairs to greet Will.

'Fuck you, you dumbass,' was my approximate train of thought, directed at myself, when all three of us gathered, hiding from the cold rain and the autumn wind under the safety of the roof. Both men shared a brief, warm embrace before Bruce's arm snaked around my waist.

"You go upstairs, okay? I don't want you to get sick," Banner said, eyeing the disastrous weather.

I looked at Will, finding his eyebrow cocked at Bruce's frivolous gesture and a faint flush blossoming on his face. The man shuffled awkwardly, giving me a small wave and a tight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to Bruce. I wished him good night, hastily retreating into the safety of the elevator.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu-u-uck..." I chanted under my breath, acutely aware of the blossoming bruises on my hips where my teacher held me, the dampness of my underwear.

The elevator doors opened, revealing the common room couch being occupied by Wanda. Peter, Wanda's brother and the two resident super soldiers setting the table for dinner. Tony was off bickering with Loki and Strange by the coffee maker and Thor was standing outside on the patio, doing something very strange with his hands and his hammer. Was he summoning the shitty weather?! The audacity!

"Hey," Wanda greeted me quietly. Her eyebrows raised upon seeing my face full of perplexed confusion. "You okay?.. Wait, what? Tell me you did not!" As my internal crisis reached its peak, I remembered that a) Wanda is a telepath and b) There were other people in the room.

One ungraceful landing next to her later, I turned my bleary stare onto her. "Oops?" I offered in the way of explanation. What was I supposed to say if I didn't know for myself what the devil possessed me to fuck my social studies teacher after school? He was fucking hot, okay.

The witch smirked, obviously following my defensive internal monologue. "Oops?" Her tone was laced with gleeful sarcasm.

"I'm a human disaster," I groaned, finally caving in and palming my face. Wanda began snickering. "I have zero impulse control," I continued wallowing in self-pity. The redhead just cackled harder.

"I feel so attacked right now," Tony's voice loudly announced the man's presence. I was thankful for the distraction, happy that today, out of all the days, he decided to make the situation about himself. "I am the resident hot mess and nothing you do will change that. Or get out of my tower," He made a dramatic gesture, waving along everybody to the table.

At the dinner table, with Peter on one side of me and Bruce on the other, Wanda's speech was clear. "I think you two are about on the same level, Tony," Her tone was dry. The looks she cast me were cheeky at best and downright gleeful at worst. Not only was she the resident telepath but also, apparently, a huge drama fan.

I, on the other hand, felt like a fish thrown out of water. My mind was still jumping between astounded and horrified like a rabid rabbit and Bruce's excited remark about seeing a former schoolmate only worsened the anxiety. My brain was telling me EVERYBODY knew EVERYTHING whereas in reality, it was only Wanda and it didn't seem like she was upset enough to give up my dirty little secret. If anything, the witch seemed almost impressed. And that dry, mildly interested facial expression only solidified when she put two and two together: my teacher, whom I fucked, also known as Bruce's former study buddy.

"I have some spare sweatpants that might fit you," Wanda directly addressed me as we were finishing up the wonderful chicken roast courtesy of Clint and Bucky. Nobody batted an eye at the sudden exclamation, evidently used to being around someone who could hear their thoughts.

I nodded, mentally waving a big, red thank you note. With sparkles. And hearts. Wanda chuckled.

"Hey, did you change your perfume?" Peter's innocent remark made me nearly freeze in my spot.

Kill Bill sirens started playing in my head on repeat as I heard Wanda choke on her asparagus, inadvertently drawing attention to the three of us. Peter looked at us in confusion: Wanda kept on gasping, but it seemed like the dam had finally burst and she was laughing in earnest, snorting, loudly, as I engaged my willpower to stop myself from doing the same. Needless to say, it was a spectacular failure and now both of us were bent over our dinner plates, absolutely losing it - much to the concern of the adults present at the table. The rest of the team was growing concerned.

"Oh my god, your FACE!" Wanda's incoherent mumbling and the accusing finger pointed in my direction did it.

"A lady doesn't... kiss... and tell...." I fervently gulped the oxygen as I tried to articulate my thoughts into something comprehendible. The hysterical laughter won by a wide margin.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Natasha seemed to get the gist, relaxing immediately and picking up her fork to continue her meal.

I shook my head, unable to form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. Bruce chuckled from somewhere beside me and just like that, the tension broke. The adults in the room traded knowing looks, chuckling and snorting amongst themselves.

The moments I needed to calm down went to waste really quick: my first laughing fit over, I took one look at Wanda and yet again, both of us were puffing out our cheeks to try and prevent another hysterical fit.

"Whew," I exaggerated, eyes wide and looking ANYWHERE but at Wanda.

"What a wild ride," She snorted and I put a palm over my face, shaking my head in...

Disappointment at myself? I wasn't disappointed. Now that I got over the WTF factor, I found the situation to be pretty damn hot. Will was hot. Eh, whatever.

My casual mood of zero-fucks-given began returning. After few of the last bites of potatoes, I was prepared to face Natasha. I looked the Black Widow dead in the eye as I firmly stated: "And for the record? We are NOT having this conversation."

She elegantly arched her eyebrow whilst everybody else held their breath. "That bad, huh?" The retort was immediate.

I allowed myself to radiate a bit of that newly acquired smugness I had begun to feel: "You have no idea," I hoped my smirk was as devious as I wished it to be.

"Alright, heartbreaker, colour me impressed," Natasha nodded in affirmation. We shared another meaningful look and reverted back to our plates with the menfolk observing us akin animals at a zoo.

Somewhat amazed, slightly afraid. Bruce's stare was somewhat concerned, too: he contemplatively eyed me from the corner of his eye, the same way I eyed him, checking out the fact that he appeared somewhat annoyed. Like a proper father would, I suppose.

Luckily for me, I finished off the remaining food and drink quickly, with Wanda being my saviour once again as she all but bodily dragged me into the elevator, promising to return me to the science den in no more than an hour. Tony went to complain but was promptly stopped by Natasha inconspicuously reaching for the butter knife: the engineer knew how to pick his battles. I didn't doubt that Romanoff was going to hear "all about it" second-hand from Wanda and I was fully prepared to face the redhead spy's judgement. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, escaped that clever woman.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I sat on Wanda's couch, nervously fiddling with the two sizes too big sweatpants, occasionally stopping to straighten the plain white tank top that just barely fit me. I washed my hair but didn't dry it before Wanda was impatiently telling me to hurry up: the mess sat atop my head held up by a single scrunchie.

"Okay... Where do I start?" She asked me, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"Don't start," I stopped her with a raised palm. "It was a casual, one-time thing and I've no interest in pursuing that shit on the reg," I answered honestly. The fact that he was my teacher simultaneously worsened the situation and made me elated. But ultimately, I didn't want to risk the trouble that would come along with this mess. Besides, I had no feelings for the guy whatsoever. As I've said previously, it was just bad impulse control on some teenage hormone steroids.

"You're a strange one," Wanda's penetrating gaze made me shiver. "You live without a care in the world but at the same time, your mind is always all over the place. It is interesting."

"Uh, thanks? I guess?"

"I think we should try being friends," The witch remarked after a brief moment of awkward silence. I stared at her, dumbfounded. "Because of my powers, I can literally see through people and predict what they will do before they even think about doing it. With you, it's not like that," She explained, her Slavic accent making a full guest appearance.

"So...you want to be friends because I'm a fucking mess?" I couldn't help but feel a little offended. The occasional shitty decision aside, I didn't think of myself as that bad.

"I want to be friends because I like you," Wanda fondly rolled her eyes, standing up from the couch and motioning for me to follow. "Now let's get you to Tony or he'll blow a gasket. He's already insufferable as he is."

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem

#stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #bun writes #party favours #LEMME TELL YOU THERE WILL BE SURPRISES IN THIS CHAPTER

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