#i’m guessing seattle is one of the other ones | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loaksky · 2 years ago

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— 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 | 𝒂. 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏

emt!abby x clumsy fem!reader, fluff / angst / smut (mdni!), wc: 8.8k (abby makes me ill).

synopsis: abby’s recuperating from a rocky relationship. tending to you more than once has gotta be fate.

content warnings: language, 18+ content (MDNI!): fingering (abby & reader receiving), oral (abby receiving), standard emotional constipation, non-graphic depictions of injuries / blood. let me know if i miss anything! not proofread well!

tagging those who interacted with my interest post! @eden-nox , @feeeeebbb , @thecowardwrites , @dawn-bunni , @dykefromstatefarm , @kingofcrabs17 , @deadliebalboa , @caitlinisfruity , @matchabxba , @abbysidechick

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

THE FIRST TIME ABBY TENDS TO YOU is an embarrassing circumstance all its own. And not necessarily because you’d hurt yourself, but because of one meddling little sibling in particular.

It’s nearly 2am in the morning, a little brisk outside of the apartment complex, and Abby’s trailing behind her rotation partners up three rickety flights of stairs.

“Seattle EMS!”

The door’s flying open and a frantic girl no older than fifteen is ushering the trio in the apartment.

“It’s my sister,” she says quickly. “She cut her hand with a knife. Won’t stop bleeding.”

Abby’s observing her surroundings, eyes flitting around the space as they file quickly down the hallway, walls neatly littered with polaroids, picture frames, and various other decorations and knickknacks.

As they spill into the living room, Abby’s eyes settle on you, sitting on the coffee table in nothing but an oversized tee and some boyshorts.

There are tiny smears of red across your thighs, right hand applying pressure to your left palm with a wad of paper towels. One look at your face shows draining color and Abby’s setting the duffel on the floor.

“Need her rate and blood pressure,” one of her partners says. “Anderson, can you assess the damage?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Abby says, kneeling in front of you.

She swears she feels a jolt of electricity pass through her nitrile gloves when her fingertips brush your skin. You’re shaky, eyes droopy because you’ve never been great with blood.

“I’m gonna take a look,” Abby says softly, coaxing the paper towels away from you. “That okay?”

You nod, hair falling into your face as she turns your palm over to analyze the wound.

“Sheesh,” she whispers. “What’d you do?”

When you’re silent for a moment, warmth momentarily returning to your cheeks as embarrassment floods your system, Abby’s eyes swing to your younger sister who’s seemingly clocked the considerable tension between you and the hot EMT.

“We were making brownies,” she fills in helpfully. “Big sis was chopping up the nuts.”

One of Abby’s partners chuckles, the one filling out the paperwork, and Abby glances at you again, something niggling in the pit of her stomach when she sees the flustered way you bite your lip.

“Personally not a fan of nuts in my brownies, but that’s a hill I’ll die on.”

Abby’s trying to distract you, take your mind away from a the gnarly gash cut deep in your palm line. It works, she thinks, when you crack a small smile.

“Me neither,” you agree, and it’s the first words you say all night.

Your voice has a sweet rasp, one that makes Abby’s gut twist.

“Guess this means nuts really are a no go,” you say, hissing momentarily when Abby makes start with cleaning your wound.

For a moment she forgets you’re talking about brownies and your little sister’s searing gaze should be confirmation enough, but after gathering all of your important information and spending the next forty-five minutes cleaning you up, Abby’s being stopped in her tracks as they file out of the cramped living room.

Your little sister catches her as the two other techs swing into the third floor hallway.

“My big sis is gay, FYI,” she giggles mischievously. “Like real gay.”

You call her name, absolutely horrified.

Abby can’t help the smile that splits her face.

“Mmm, good to know.”

You’d barely recovered from that moment, still reeling nearly a week later after your failed sleepover party with your little sister that ended in the hottest tech seeing you in the worst condition possible.

And while you thank every force above that Abby hadn’t seemed too perturbed by your sibling’s antics, it’s still something that makes you rub the heel of your palms into your eyes and kick your feet in annoyance before bed.

But just when you think you’re finally getting over it, you cross paths again.

Fate has a cruel way of flexing its humor because you’re turning an especially crowded corner in the freezer section of Whole Foods when your toe catches the corner display.

“Shit!” you hiss, basket clattering to the floor.

Your jar of extra garlic-y marinara is rolling away and a few of your lemons are scattering between avoidant feet.

“Hey, you alright?”

And you’ve heard that voice before, familiar hum haunting your dreams for the past week and a half.

You look up just as the body associated with the voice crouches in front of you, pasta sauce in one hand and trio of lemons in the other.

Of course it’s Abby in all of her glory. Her hair is loosened from her braid, falling over her broad shoulders as she searches your face. She’s in her work polo, few buttons undone and belt somewhat loosened.

Something akin to recognition flashes over her features as she takes you in.

“Thanks,” you whisper when she rights your basket and carefully sets the runaway items inside.

“You’re always hurting yourself,” she teases, standing to her full height before offering her hand out to you.

For a moment you were caught up, so engrossed in seeing Abby again like a direct manifestation of your very fears (and a wet dream or two), that you hadn’t noticed that people were staring.

Your face is hot as your fingers brush her palm and she’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. When you shift your weight to the foot you’d tripped on, your face screws up in discomfort.

Abby’s scarily perceptive, equal parts because it comes with the job even when she’s off duty, and also because it’s you. She doesn’t know what’s so different about you, especially because she hasn’t bat an eye at another girl in the past seven months since her previous break-up, but she can’t take her eyes off of you. She’s certain her pupils are blown wide by now.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, steadying you with warm hands.

Abby has to force herself to glance up at you when she happens to notice the way your chest hitches, pendant on the dainty chain that rests between the divot of your collarbones glinting under the fluorescents.

“A little,” you admit.

Abby doesn’t hesitate to take your basket alongside hers and offers you a perfectly sculpted arm.

God you could actually combust, not only because you’re beyond embarrassed but because Abby’s too fucking hot for her own good.

“Easy,” she tells you as you move through the aisles slowly.

She’s guiding you to a quiet corner in the foodcourt, setting you gently against the bench before plopping down next to you.

Your lips part to thank her, tell her that you’ll just rest here for a moment before going about your day, but she’s lifting your leg into her lap and undoing the strap of your sandal wordlessly.

“Oh—”

Her gaze swings to yours.

“Gotta get a better look,” she tells you with an easy smile, fingers gentle around your ankle.

She starts rolling, testing your range of motion. When your expression pinches, she’s rummaging through her basket, only to produce a frozen bag of peas a few moments later.

“Doesn’t look like any bruising is forming and you’ve got your full range of motion,” she observes. “Just a rolled ankle. Nothing some ice won’t fix.”

You stare at her unblinking, nodding stupidly as she applies a slight amount of pressure with the frozen vegetables.

“I, ah—” you let out a low hiss and Abby shouldn’t lick her lips, but her mouth’s dry and the skin of your legs are like butter. “I think I’ll be okay.”

The concern that shades Abby’s features makes you squirm on the bench, ankle still propped in her lap.

“Did you drive?” Abby presses, and she knows that this is a bad idea.

The two of you could be on your way, paths officially untangling, but something inside of her is compelled, tugged hard at the sight of you.

“No…” you trail off sheepishly. “I walked.”

Abby’s lips part, words escaping her before she can stop and think twice.

“I’ll walk you home,” she offers.

“Oh, Abby, you don’t have to do that,” you say gently.

It’s like someone squeezes the air from her lungs at the sound of her name leaving your lips in a rasped hum, makes her wet her lips again because her mouth’s gone dry.

“You’re probably really busy, I don’t want to be a bother,” you add with a soft smile.

“You wouldn’t be,” she assures you. “Just wanna make sure you make it home safe.”

And it’s such a sweet sentiment, one that makes warmth bloom in your chest and your tummy. But there’s a dull ache, a squeeze that makes your thighs involuntarily press together. It’s barely perceptible and you hope to whatever’s in the universe that Abby’s not keen when it comes to body language.

The planes of her face are serious, bump on the bridge of her nose pronounced as you watch the set of her jaw. Fuck, did you want her bad, feel embarrassment creeping because if anyone nearby could intercept your brain, they’d find a slew of less than appropriate thoughts accompanying the more tame.

Without another word, Abby’s hooking your sandal back on, patting your shin gently before setting you right and gathering the combination of your groceries and hers.

You make a move to follow her, but she levels you with a warning glare.

“Stay put,” she urges. “I’ll take care of it.”

“But, Abby—” you splutter.

Your name is stern on her lips and another dull ache ebbs as she stands over you in her uniform, muscles stretching the fabric taut.

She’s off a moment later and after what seems like an eternity waiting almost helplessly, Abby returns with a few paper bags. She’s stuffing the receipt in her pocket and your expression shifts, lips pursing.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask as soon as she offers her elbow to you.

“Don’t worry about it,” she quips, body tensing in the slightest as she acclimates all over again to the feeling of you clinging to her. “Now let’s get you home.”

“Abby!” you whine, drawing her name out petulantly.

It’s so domestic, all of it. Carrying your groceries with your arms looped through hers and the two of you strolling down the sidewalk to accommodate your hurt foot.

“What?” she mocks, and you can’t help but smile.

“You’ll be late for work,” you say softly, unable to stop the passing observation of how sturdy she feels against you.

“I’m off.”

And something like relief, excitement, jolts at the thought. Makes you hush the rest of the way to your apartment building like the courage is still brewing.

The middle-aged woman that sits at her desk in the lobby and plays Candy Crush half of shift pauses to spare the two of you a passing glance as you walk in, eyebrows raising and lips twitching.

“Afternoon, Marianne,” you greet sheepishly.

“Good afternoon,” she parrots, rolling her lips to hide the amused grin threatening to spread.

Abby is none-the-wiser as her eyes flit around the lobby in search for the elevators.

The ride up ends up being shrouded in total silence save for the whirring of the lift’s gears and your shallow breaths. For a moment, Abby wonders if she’s overstepped. If she’s made you uncomfortable and read all the signs wrong.

As the two of you approach your door, the very one her and her coworkers had banged on a little over a week ago, she’s trying to come up with the words to apologize, tell you that she really just wanted to make sure you were okay.

(Even though she’ll only ever admit to herself that perhaps part of it was self-indulgent and the softness of your skin was like a high).

But you’re beating her to it, untangling to shift your weight to your uninjured foot and turning to face her.

“Do you…” You swallow and blink once, then twice, gathering the rest of your courage. “Do you wanna come in?”

Oh— Abby hadn’t been expecting that. She’d been expecting you to fumble with your groceries and close the door in her face for good. But now you’re looking up at her through thick lashes and a shy grin and all she can think to herself in this moment is that she’s a goner.

“I’m making dinner,” you add. “If you’d like to stay.”

Another slice of domesticity that has Abby’s wires crossing.

“Sure,” she agrees easily, and it takes everything inside of her not to teem with too much excitement when you turn to slot your key into the lock and the door springs open.

Your apartment is just how she remembers it from the little details she’d picked up the last time she was here. That same scent of lemons and what she thinks could be incense. Though it’d felt a little out of line, unprofessional to be too engrossed in her surroundings the first time, especially when her eyes caught a particularly suggestive photo among the wall hosting polaroids.

You’re with a group of girl friends, bent over in a too short skirt so that the swell of your ass is pressed to the girl in the center’s front. The shot gives a perfect eyeful of your cleavage in a tiny little triangle bikini top and the cherry on top is the pair of red cat-eye glasses sliding down the bridge of your nose as you wink at whoever is behind the camera.

You pause at the end of the hallway when you notice Abby’s no longer close behind.

“Looks like somebody knows how to have a good time,” she observes jokingly, but her cheeks are so incredibly warm because christ you’re beautiful.

You’re sheepish.

“Definitely retired from that life,” you tell her, and she notes that the neat sharpie dates back nearly six summers ago. “Now I like to bake with my little sister and injure myself.”

Abby can’t help the smile when you start gazing at all the other polaroids tacked into a heart formation on the crisp white walls.

“You seem like the life of the party,” Abby says, eyes lingering on another polaroid of you in what seems to be a dorm room with a joint pinched between your fingers, sporting a feather boa, a paper crown that says ‘birthday girl’ and those same red sunglasses.

You huff out a laugh.

“I wouldn’t say that...”

She wonders if she’ll see that side of you. So far you seem so quiet, reserved. It makes her want to peel away the layers and learn you.

The thought makes her blink hard.

“Kitchen’s this way,” you say after a few moments pass, turning on your heel to pad down the hall and swing left.

Light pours from where you flip the switch to the kitchen’s fluorescents.

Abby finds that the living room and kitchen is far tidier than the last time she’d been here, obviously cleaned after the entire baking debacle with your little sister.

My big sis is gay, like real gay. The words were like a subtle push. One that made Abby weigh the potential.

She’s setting the paper bags on the counter, making a move to go through the bags to help you put the groceries away, but your hands close over hers, slightly smaller and warm as you halt her movements.

“You’ve done enough for me,” you say, smile crooked. “Make yourself at home.”

And the household phrase is so cliche, but makes a split second reel of what making herself fully at home entails. She’d never admit it out loud, but part of it is bending you over the kitchen island.

She swallows the lump in her throat as you limp around the kitchen.

“You should rest your foot,” she says.

Your smile widens.

“I’m okay,” you assure her.

She leans against the counter, watching as you file everything in its rightful place. The muscles in her face involuntarily twitch when you stand up on your tip toes to throw a box of cereal on top of the fridge.

Your ass looks absolutely edible in your jeans and the low cut of your top shows the way your shoulder blades contract.

Definitely doesn’t help her blooming kitchen fantasies.

“You want something to drink?” you offer.

“Just water, please,” Abby clears her throat, gaze snapping up to meet the gaze you throw over your shoulder.

And she has to use the cute little glass you give her as a lifeline, nearly crushing the frosted green glass to bits multiple times over the course of you prepping dinner and the actual thing.

Because not only are you wickedly witty in a way that’s easily overlooked, but you’re phenomenal in the kitchen. Nearly drools watching you cut through your produce while chattering happily about growing up on the west coast and your college years.

You work through the building heat to set a painted ceramic dish piled high with pasta that Abby absolutely devours with nearly as much fervor as she likes to think she would you.

“Good?” you ask hopefully, leaning forward on your elbows.

“Better than good,” Abby says eagerly. “Great, fantastic.”

“Yay,” you cheer pure-heartedly and she could melt. Especially when she polishes off the plate and you sit up straight. “More?”

She easily agrees just for the sake of watching you.

“You should, uh—” You scratch the back of your neck nervously as she continues eating. “You should stop by again. If you, y’know, wanna…I cook a lot and there’s usually a lot left over.”

Abby could scream in excitement. She’s one intrusive thought away from reaching over the island to squish your cheeks and tell you that there’s literally nothing else in the world she’d wanna do than to see you again. Instead she forces her composure with an easy smile.

“I’d really like that.”

And the way she sits back in her seat, legs obviously spreading under the surface to stretch has you wiggling uncomfortably. The last few buttons of her polo have come undone, exposing a freckled expanse of skin that you’d love to sink your teeth into, and somehow, sometime while your back had been turned, she’d opted for undoing the rest of her loosening braid to throw it into a topknot.

The tension is palpable, thick enough to choke, and at times, as the two of you chat over the kitchen island, it has you stumbling over your words.

Even more so when you walk her to the door at half past ten. She’s leaning against the doorframe like she doesn’t want to leave, and truthfully, you don’t want her to. Want to spend as much time as you can caught up.

“I’ll call you?” you bite the bullet despite the tremor in your fingertips.

Abby nods, arm banded around her paper bag of groceries, a tupperware of leftovers nestled on the top.

“Yeah, please,” she hums.

And there’s one final moment of tension that clings between the two of you as she kicks off the doorframe and you close the door, back pressed against the wood.

After that night, the lines you dance blur impossibly. Always a will she, won’t she that seems to equally frustrate the two of you for vastly different reasons unbeknownst to the other.

You because you can’t get a read on Abby, always teetering over a steep edge trying to get her to bite your advances. But you know, know that there’s something there. Abby because she’s given more and more reason to fall into you with every passing moment, but can’t seem to take the plunge, entirely too freshly single to think about another commitment that could fail and leave her already mending heart beyond repair.

And she knows it isn’t fair, especially when the tension both romantic and sexual is absolutely brimming. You’re nothing like the partners she’s been with before, especially not her last girlfriend who was practically your polar opposite. You were gentle, sweet, funny. Good at practically anything you could get your hands on.

But something stalls her, keeps her from diving headfirst despite late nights laying on your living room floor talking about things both minute and infinite, cooking with you in the snugness of your tiny kitchen, even inviting you to outings with friends and vice versa.

So you take the plunge instead, one Saturday evening weeks after your first meeting, after spending long swathes of time tangled in each other’s presence.

You’re at a bar with her and her friends, slight buzz giving you the smallest nudge of confidence to cling to her arm. And god does Abby look good tonight, especially so, in a dark button up and fitted pants. She’s got her hair down, tickles your cheek when you nuzzle against her shoulder.

Her friends’ eyes are inquisitive, curious because touches between the two of you rarely linger for longer than a few moments, but you’ve been glued to her side all night. She doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t shrug you off, even wraps an arm around your shoulder when you return from the restroom.

So with a few more drinks and a little more liquid courage, you’re toeing a little over the line. You’ve pushed her hair over her shoulders, pressing your lips experimentally to the skin behind her ear. It’s a sensation that has her freezing up almost imperceptibly, but you can tell with the way her muscles grow taut under your fingers.

“What’re you doing, angel?” Abby asks quietly, span of her large palm gripping your thigh.

“Nothin’,” you hum, nose bumping her ear.

She breathes out a hollow laugh, tries to turn her attention to her friends who are obviously trying to ignore your displays of affection. But then your lips are brushing with more force against her collar and she’s sliding out of the stuffy booth to get some air.

Her resolve is obviously crumbling, even more so when she stands at the bar waiting for the next round of drinks and your arm bands around her waist, the other flattening below her belly button. When your pinkie slides beneath her belt buckle, she’s pushing off the counter.

And for a moment you think you’ve upset her when she gathers all the stout glasses and winds through the crowd to return to the booth you’d previously occupied.

You barely make it to the back of the bar when she’s emerging from the bodies and grabbing you roughly by the bicep.

“Abby—”

Her lips are slotting yours before you can apologize, and she tastes like cherries and liquor. Her arms wind around your waist, one hand on the small of your back, the other grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Abs,” you whisper breathlessly, unable to feel any embarrassment for taking up a high traffic aisle as she bites your bottom lip.

“Your place or mine?” she asks, voice gravelly. “Because you started something that I’m gonna need you to finish, princess.”

And your knees are jelly the entire trek to your apartment, insides liquid and tummy fluttering because a warmth has begun to pool in your panties. The way Abby can’t keep her hands off you through the elevator ride up makes it all the worse.

“You’re such a fuckin’ tease, y’know that?” she hisses in your ear as you miss the keyhole a few times. “For the last six weeks all you’ve done is toy with me and—”

Her breath hitches when she presses her front to your back and slides her hand up the skirt of your backless sundress to feel the stickiness forming between the plush of your thighs.

When you finally force the door open, Abby’s kicking off her shoes and her fingers are making work of her top buttons. You’re quick to swivel on your heel, shoving her roughly against the front door to push up on your tiptoes and pepper kisses over the curve of her jaw.

“Me?” you huff petulantly, an uncharacteristic gleam in your eye as your fingers are deft on her belt buckle. You unbutton her dress pants. “You waltz in here all the time looking so…so…fuckable.”

Abby nearly chokes on her breath.

“And you try to play coy, but I see right through you, Abby,” you say in such a gooey tone. She throws her head back and moans. “I see the way you look at me. The little things you do. You’re not subtle Anderson.”

And that’s new. Calling her by her last name.

Your hand’s down the front of her pants, under her boxers and you feel it. How wet she is. Feel the slick between her folds as you circle her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes, lips parted as she takes the sight of you in.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you sigh, biting your bottom lip as you stare up at her.

She nods eagerly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hum.

Her hands come up to cup your cheeks, leaning down to steal a few kisses before her hand’s wrapping around your wrist and pulling you from her heat.

“Open,” she barks, guiding your fingers to your lips.

You do so without argument, the taste of Abby making your eyes hood.

You make a noise in the back of your throat, and Abby’s walking you back towards your bedroom.

“You wanna make me feel good?” she asks, back of her knees hitting the edge of your mattress. She’s got you situated between her legs, shucking off her top and shimmying her trousers and boxers off in one go. “Then get to work.”

She’s spreading her legs, gaze locked as you lower until you’re eye level with her cunt. The pale moonlight that filters the window making it absolutely glisten.

You’re kissing the skin of her inner thighs, hands on her knees as you glance up at her, only find her with her bottom lip tucked harshly between pearly teeth.

“Want you bad,” you admit breathily, biting the taut skin before laving at it with the flat of your tongue.

All you receive is a shaky breath, seemingly knocking the words straight from her lips.

“Nothing?” you taunt, biting the other side.

Abby’s opening her mouth to say something snarky, but your lips are on her clit and your middle finger’s sliding in with ease.

“Jesus, fuck,” she whispers breathlessly.

And you’re smug as you eat her out, vibration of your moans rumbling through her core when she threads her fingers through your hair and tugs ‘til the tension in your scalp stings deliciously.

“Shitshitshit,” she chokes when you add another finger.

Under normal circumstances, she’d be embarrassed when her body locks up and her legs shake after what seems like only mere moments, but after she comes down and the fog clears, she’s wiping that smirk off your pretty face.

The sight is one to see, Abby leaned against your headboard with your back plastered to her front. The skirt of your dress is scrunched around your waist, flimsy straps knocked from your shoulders.

She’s merciless, thick fingers plugging you full.

“Ah, Abby,” you hiss, hand wrapping around her wrist.

“Can’t get over how tight you are.” She bites your earlobe. “You can barely take two.”

As testament, she stuffs you deeper. The squelch is downright filthy, your arousal pooling down your slit and onto the sheets. For a moment Abby’s pulling her digits from your heat, spreading her fingers in front of your face to show you the stringy strands of clear that web her knuckles.

“See that, princess? See how wet you are?” she teases, other hand taking a palmful of your tits while her mouth maps each blemish and mark with kisses across your shoulders and neck.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” she husks. “Wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You throw your head back, chest heaving as her fingers curl inside the spongy walls of your cunt and applies such a toe-curling pressure against the spot that has you seeing stars. It makes your back arch, knees twitching against the legs that Abby uses to keep your thighs spread.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” she whispers, blowing air against the shell of your ear as her ministrations grow sloppy.

You nod quickly, body tensing.

“M’gonna fuckin’ cum,” you whimper, “Please, Abs, don’t stop. I’m—”

Abby could cum all over again when your chest pushes forward into her hold, head lolling back against her shoulder as you let out a pitched whine that sounds a lot like her name.

“Fuck!” you swallow, falling slack against her sticky skin as you gush.

Her other hand drops to your clit, lazy circles making your pussy clench around the fingers still stuffed inside.

“That’s right, princess,” she huffs. “Cream all over my fingers.”

Your breaths stutter, pussy clenching as you let out a needy little moan.

“So good,” she praises. “Such a good girl.”

And you’re absolutely boneless, head knocking gently against hers as you push further into her chest. You feel her weight shift as she reaches, then the gentle feeling of her cleaning you up despite sleepy overstimulated protests.

It’s warm in your room as Abby slinks down the pillows and pulls the covers up. Her chin rests on top of your head as you cozy up to her, mumbling about how much you like her and how you’ve waited for such a moment.

You don’t remember the last thing you say before you doze off.

Abby does, though.

It keeps her up the entire night. Has her eyes blown wide as she stares up at the ceiling and the weight of the evening dawns on her.

Always wanna be with you. You’re my person.

And she doesn’t know how it’d gotten to this point. How did she let herself get so entangled with you? She’d always been aware that there’d been something there, that she was crushing and was almost a hundred percent sure you reciprocated, but this was far more than she’d anticipated.

It’s a step away from the ‘l’ word, and she’s not so sure it’s something she’s willing to fall into.

So Abby does what she does when she’s scared and she’s running. She’s replacing herself with your pillow as the sun comes up, heart squeezing when your cheek nuzzles against the fabric and your lips part to blow a breath.

She’s dressing as she makes her way to the front door, takes a final look at the polaroid wall that stares back at her as she tugs her shoes on, and slips out of the apartment building into the chilly Seattle air.

You’d been prepared for a lot of things growing up and into yourself. Had learned to swallow the bitter side of sweet, but nothing could have prepared you for the splintering feeling of Abby’s absence.

You wake up a few hours after she leaves, naked and hugging one of your pillows. The apartment is eerily silent as you wait in stillness for any signs that she’s just an early riser.

There’s no shower running, no clattering in the kitchen, no shuffling in the hall. And when you survey your surroundings, comforter wrapped around your shoulders, you suck in a deep breath.

Maybe she has work.

It’s a futile attempt to rationalize the situation, but you know Abby. Know that she’d leave a note, maybe a text, or—

You scramble for your phone, but deflate when you find a notification to water your virtual plant. For good measure, you open her text thread, but all that stares back at you is the confirmation that she was picking you up the night prior.

“Oh, Abby,” you whisper to yourself, something like sickness making your stomach twist.

The cursor blinks, keyboard clicking as you type and retype anything that’ll confirm that maybe you’re just being paranoid, reading into things too much.

So you settle on good morning ��.

It’s almost instantaneous.

Read at 7:47am.

It takes a little under two weeks for Abby to surface again. Not without ample prodding. You’re a communicator, she realizes, as she sits outside of Jo’s Coffee and stares down at the string of texts from you over the past week and a half.

pretty girl: good morning 💘

pretty girl: have a good day at work

pretty girl: i made dinner if you wanna stop by

pretty girl: can i swing by the station with lunch?

pretty girl: just want you to know that i’m thinking of you

pretty girl: meet for coffee? wanna see you.

pretty girl: text me whenever you’re comfortable, i’ll leave you alone til you’re ready 💗

That final text is what makes her crack. Makes the guilt eat away at her. So she messages you when her shift is over.

me: jo’s at 4

pretty girl liked ‘jo’s at 4’

She looks up when the chair across from her scrapes against the concrete. You drop into the seat, fresh-faced and obviously newly showered. But she can see it in your eyes, the bags that puff like you’ve been crying.

And you have, even if you won’t admit it, because Abby’s the closest thing you’ve felt to what love could be like and these past two weeks have been agonizing as you try to pick apart every single facet of your situationship with her.

“How are you?” you ask, giving her a weak smile over the table.

“Good,” Abby lies, but you don’t see through her poker face and it stings, thinking that she’d been so unaffected by all of this.

You nod, fiddling with the fake leaves of the center piece.

“I missed you,” you admit shakily.

And fuck, did Abby miss you too, but she can’t find it in herself to face her fears head on. So she just nods, biting the inside of her lip.

“Didn’t miss me?” you tease, trying to make light of the situation.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” Abby cuts to the chase, words leaving her lips like a shot that echos in the night.

It makes your ears ring, your brows furrowing as your lips twitch into a frown. Abby braces herself, knows what a brewing argument feels like. It’s sick to say that it’s familiarity, that sharp words and hoarse voices are a norm.

But you just shrink in your seat.

“Why?” you whisper.

Abby sucks in a deep breath.

“You don’t remember what you told me?” she asks like an accusation.

You blink.

“You told me that you wanted to be with me. That I’m your person,” she says.

And you wonder what’s so wrong with that. Especially when you’ve spent two months glued, when you were so sure it was mutual.

“I do,” you affirm softly. “You are.”

Abby squeezes her eyes shut, shakes her head.

“I’m not—” She clears her throat. “I don’t want a girlfriend. I don’t need the distraction. Especially not now with work and my personal life.”

Ouch. That had hurt, Abby calling her time with you and any subsequent moments nothing more a distraction.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know why your response frustrates her, makes annoyance pinch the back of her brain as she takes you in, but it does. Full force.

“We’re better off as friends,” Abby says. “It’s easier, it’s—”

“Friends don’t fuck each other, Abby,” you say simply, and the calmness in your tone makes her upset.

She’s used to the shouting, to the arguing and being at each other’s throats in conversations like these. But you never fail to amaze her as you keep your composure.

“I have no intention of sleeping with you again,” she says stonily. “That night was mistake. I hadn’t been with someone in months and you were giving me attention and—”

In her frustration with the entire conversation, she hadn’t realized that tears were pooling in your eyes. That you were trying not to cry.

Her face softens when she notices.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You what?” you murmur. “What were these past three months, Abby?”

“I dunno,” Abby sighs in annoyance. “Two people enjoying each other’s company? We were drunk and—"

You simply nod, knuckling away the brimming tears before shrugging your bag over your shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Abby sighs when you stand.

“Home,” you answer quietly. “Whatever. Let’s just forget any of this ever happened.”

She grabs your arm over the table, opening her mouth to apologize again, but you’re shaking her off.

“Take care of yourself,” you tell her.

The days blur like the edges of a muddy watercolor.

You start to think that things could look up, that maybe Abby was put in your life for some reason you’ll uncover in the future. But the universe can be so cruel sometimes, knows exactly what to do to shatter the broken pieces you’d tried so hard to glue together.

It comes in the form of a night out nearly a month after you’d last seen Abby. She made no additional efforts, just left you wondering if you’d imagined it all, and your friends are especially tired of your moping.

It’s a surprise!

And you’re not really one for surprises. Especially not now, but they’re dragging you out, carting you across town. Your stomach sinks to your ass when you see the familiar neon lights. Feel your chest tighten on the trek up the stairs to the same bar that preluded your spiral.

You could throw up when you’re situated in a booth with your friends and you glance at the bar by chance.

Abby’s leaned against the counter top, looking as good as ever, but she’s not alone. There’s a girl that hangs off her shoulder, skin umber and eyes warm. She makes no moves to distance herself and you don’t know why you feel the anger begin to sizzle. Abby hadn’t been yours in the first place.

“What do you wanna drink?” one of your friends asks.

“Nothing,” you answer stiffly.

She follows your gaze to the countertop, sees the way your eyes burn.

You’d kept your situation with Abby private, didn’t want to jeopardize such a potentially good thing with your well-meaning meddling friends at such a fresh stage. But now that it’s soured, you stare openly.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” she asks, and your avoidance is answer enough. “C’mon, let’s show her what she missed out on.”

As it turns out, it doesn’t seem like much. Because she doesn’t even blink when you sidle up to the counter with your friend, three patrons between the two of you.

You’d always thought the two if you had a sixth sense for the other, but Abby’s oblivious to her surroundings, too engrossed in her drink and the pretty brunette hanging off her shoulder.

One of the bartenders goes up, asks what he can get for the two beautiful ladies, and your ears perk when her voice sounds. Nearly throw up the empty contents of your stomach all over the bar top when you see the way she slings her arm over the girl’s shoulders.

“Another vodka soda for my girl.”

She’s buzzed, you can hear it, but it’s the most sound declaration you’ve heard from her in the time you’ve known her.

You break away from the bar, and you run.

Abby feels like a shell of herself.

She’d gone out over the weekend, celebrating a visit from a close friend from the east coast. And it’d done a good job of numbing the pain for a little while, of taking her mind off of you.

But it’s Tuesday, the first day of her rotation this week and she hates that this feels worse than her previous break-up despite the unlabeled status of your relationship. You hadn’t even put up a fight, just took her rejection in stride.

It makes her feel infinitely worse, knowing you didn’t have it in you.

She doesn’t even realize she’s spaced out in front of the drink coolers of the convenience store after her shift when a voice snaps her out of it.

“S’cuse me.”

And she knows that voice. It’d been her greenlight all those nights ago.

Your little sister is brushing past her, going straight for the Body Armors and Gatorade. She must feel the way Abby stares because she’s side-eyeing the older girl from her post.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says, turning her nose up in the air.

Abby swallows.

“Hey to you too,” she says hesitantly.

Your little sister humphs, snatching the golden berry flavor and a yellow Gatorade. Abby takes a moment to glance at her basket, sees fever medicine and Tylenol among other things like instant ramen and Vitamin C gummies.

“Are you sick?” she asks.

Your little sister’s face screws up in annoyance.

“No, but my big sis is,” she says matter-of-factly.

That information makes Abby’s heart sink.

“She alright?” she asks carefully.

“She’s seen better days no thanks to you.”

And on a normal day, Abby would laugh because your little sister is witty, just like you. Can see where she gets it from. But right now, all she can imagine is you bed ridden and coughing up a lung.

“I can take a look at her,” Abby offers suddenly. “I—”

“Yeah fucking right,” your sibling scoffs.

Her language stuns Abby and this time she really can’t help but chuckle.

“You think this is funny?” she gripes. “You broke my sister’s heart. She’s been so fuckin’ sad because of you and you’re laughing.”

Abby sobers up quick, shakes her head.

“No, no, that’s not—,” she splitters urgently. “I– I’m laughing ‘cuz you’re just like her.”

Your little sister doesn’t look convinced, uses the back of her hand to wipe her nose as she levels Abby with an unrelenting stare.

“You suck, y’know that?”

“Yeah,” Abby sighs, hands flailing in defeat. “Trust me, I know.”

“And you’re a pussy,” your little sister adds childishly. “I know you really like my sister.”

Abby doesn’t even bother denying it, just stands there with a prepackaged sandwich that pales in comparison to your cooking and a diet soda.

“I do,” she affirms quietly.

“Then do something about it,” she says surprisingly. “My sister’s a catch, the coolest person I know. You’d be the biggest fucking dumbass if you don’t lock her down.”

And her candidness makes Abby crack a smile.

They stand there for a few moments in silence before your little sister is shoving the basket in Abby’s arms and prancing down the aisle.

As soon as Abby’s paid, black plastic bag in her grasp, she finds that your little sister has lingered outside of the convenience store.

She’s shoving a key in her hands.

“She’s too tired to open the door,” she says. “She likes extra lime in her ramen and runny eggs. Also hates swallowing pills so you’ll probably have to crush it up and put it in her water or something.”

“Who’s the EMT here?” Abby grumbles.

Your little sister pins her with a narrowed look.

“Don’t fuck this up Anderson,” she warns. “If Big Sis asks, I took a train to the mall to meet up with my friends.”

And just like that, she flounces away.

You’re asleep when she sneaks into your apartment.

She kicks her shoes off, sets the bag of convenience store goods on the kitchen island before padding through the living room to peek into your room.

Buried under a mound of blankets, just your eyebrows and forehead peek from the top as you snore softly. When she peels the covers away, she not only finds that you’re sweaty and your cheeks are flushed, but you’re wearing her favorite hoodie.

She hadn’t realized she left it here, but seeing you in it has her sinking to her knees by your bedside, chin resting on her bent arm.

“Hi, angel,” she whispers quietly, pushing the sweaty strands of hair from your face. “Missed you.”

You don’t budge, cheek smushed in your pillow as you snooze peacefully. And maybe she shouldn’t have come here, because all it’ll take is you asking her to stay.

She tucks the blanket to your chin, leans forward to press a kiss against your temple.

In the kitchen, she’s only reminded of how much she misses you. Misses this. She’d spent nearly everyday here during your time together. Brushed shoulders with you while you guys cooked together, leaned against the counter while you took extra care plating her food despite her protests of ‘we’re gonna eat it anyways’. You guys frequently laid out on the living room floor, snacking while watching movies, flipping through coffee table books or getting existential.

She’d made so many memories here, made a home out of you.

The thought stirs something emotional inside of her, makes tears prick the corner of her eyes as she rips open the packet of ramen and digs the seasoning sachet out.

Frustration wells as she goes through the motions in your kitchen by herself. Wonders why you had to go and be so fucking wonderful and make her fall for you.

She’s halfway through and angrily brushing her tears away when she hears your door creak open and your voice croak your little sister’s name in question.

When you stand in the doorway of the kitchen, her name is falling from your lips.

“Abby?”

You rub your eyes momentarily and Abby feels like the biggest piece of shit on the planet as you stand there with the hood of her pullover on, Christmas pajama pants and some crew socks.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, bewildered eyes bouncing around the kitchen as you take in your surroundings. The bags under your eyes are swollen, your lips chapped as you fidget in the archway.

“I ran into your sister at the convenience store,” she admits. “She said you were sick.”

“And?” It’s like you can’t fathom the fact that Abby would have any concern for you. Something like anger bubbles at the idea.

“What do you mean and?” Abby asks, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re sick and I… I care about you.”

There’s that normalcy again, that familiar feeling of emotions beginning to reach its boiling point. But she’s not angry at you. Could never be when all you’ve been is perfect to her. And perhaps in the back of her mind that plays the tiniest role, because you’re everything she could ever want, need, but she steady fucks it up every go around.

“Do you?” you whisper.

You look small, defeated, unable to meet her eyes.

“Of course I do, what are—”

“You really hurt me, you know that?” Your breath hitches. “You came into my life like fate, over and over again. Still do apparently. And you— You made me like you more than I’ve ever liked someone in my life. You let me see you, let me fuck you, let me… let me…”

It’s your first real display of heightened emotion. You don’t bother trying to hide your tears, or hide the way Abby’s built you up and ruined you these past four months.

“And then you just left.”

The lump in her throat nearly chokes her breathless.

“I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, y’know?” you continue and Abby’s hands tremble. “That maybe you really just needed the time for yourself, but then I saw you, and—”

“Saw me what?” Abby interjects. “Where?”

“At the bar,” you squeak. “She’s really fucking pretty, and I hope she makes you—”

“What are you talking about?” Abby grills, taking a step towards you.

“If you didn’t want to be with me, if you didn’t feel the way I felt about you, you could have just said that,” you whimper, dashing the tears away in embarrassment. “You didn’t have to make an excuse about not wanting a distraction.”

“I’m so lost right now,” Abby says. “I—”

“I saw you at the bar this weekend,” you tell her straight. “You were with a girl, called her yours.”

And that floors her. She’s almost a hundred percent certain she would’ve felt your presence a mile away, But as you reveal that you’d only been meters away from her, the closest you’ve gotten in weeks, it makes her gut pinch.

She wracks her brain, tries to recall that weekend, tries to think of any woman who’d give you the idea that she’d choose anyone but you.

She draws a blank at first, but then she remembers the bartender’s passing comment.

You and the birthday girl are too sweet.

Abby had fake retched and Nora’d drawn out an exaggerated ewwww as the bartender set the vodka soda before them.

She’d been far too engrossed to realize that you’d been in the vicinity. But she’s not so sure she would’ve done much to take advantage of your presence if she had.

This is her first act of courage in months and she’s falling head first as she crosses the berth between the two of you.

When she stands a few inches away, you look up at her, thick lashes wet and nose snotty. You look like a mess, but Abby’s always thought you were beautiful.

“Nora’s not my girlfriend,” is the first thing she says.

You think you should feel relief, some semblance of hope flickering, but this feels a lot like uncertainty and you hate the limbo.

You don’t say anything, just wipe your nose on the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” Abby whispers, hands coming up to grasp your shoulders.

You make a noise in the back of your throat, corners of your mouth turning down in that telltale sign that you’re not done crying yet.

“C’mon, angel, stop crying,” Abby says weakly and the nickname makes your stupid heart flutter.

Her thumbs are brushing underneath your eyes, over the puff of your eyebags before she’s crushing you to her chest, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other winding around your shoulders to keep you anchored.

Your arms wrap around her waist, taking in the scent of her pine body wash and the softness of her detergent.

“I hate you,” comes your muffled hiccup.

Abby only hugs you harder.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

And perhaps she deserves that, but you’re pushing your face further into her chest and she barely hears you.

“I missed you,” you admit a second later, back of her work shirt fisted between nimble fingers.

A shuddering breath leaves her at the admission, makes her body relax as the two of you stand at the edge of your kitchen.

“Missed you,” she murmurs, savoring the way your body feels melding against hers for the first time in weeks. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

“You’ll stay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, yeah,” she assures you. “I gotta go home and get some stuff, but of course I’ll stay.”

Your hold tightens and your head shakes.

“I mean stay, Abby,” you clarify. “With me. Don’t…don’t run away anymore.”

Her breath catches in her throat, a new onslaught of tears choking her as she nods fervently.

“Yeah,” she croaks, kissing the top of your head. “M’not going anywhere.”

BONUS

You don’t know where the time goes. It all seems to blur together in the moments you spend with Abby, and before you can wrap your mind around the fact, a full year has passed the two of you by.

“You look so pretty,” Abby comments, sitting on the edge of your bed with her legs spread.

She’s watching you through the mirror, blue eyes piercing and unblinking.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way she always seems to make you warm.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to hide the smile that twitches while you screw the cap back onto your lipgloss to take one final look at yourself.

“Not gonna say it back?” Abby feigns annoyance, pushing up from her seat to wrap around you, one hand bracing against the dresser as her chin drops to your neck.

“Then it’d be insincere,” you deadpan, head tilting to rest against hers.

She humphs under her breath, shamelessly sliding a hand up your dress.

You stop her fingers in their tracks, pushing off from the drawers to create space between the two of you and alleviate the warmth beginning to bloom behind your navel.

“We’re gonna be late for Nora’s birthday,” you quip, fingertips barely brushing the doorknob before Abby’s hands are gripping your waist.

She’s hoisting you to throw you against the mattress playfully.

“She’ll survive if we’re ten minutes late,” Abby assures you wolfishly, climbing over you to cage your body between her thick thighs.

“You’re gonna mess up my hair,” you whine, pushing at her shoulder.

Abby captures your wrists in one hand, other tilting your chin up to slot her lips between yours. The taste of the fresh coat of lipgloss you’d just applied makes her smile against your mouth.

She relaxes a fraction when you reciprocate, tongue languid. A noise of approval rumbles from her chest when you nudge her onto her back and bite down on her bottom lip. With a wicked glint in her eyes, she’s pulling away, hands resting against the curve of your ass.

Now you’re straddling her, manicured hands mapping from her waist to her shoulders to feel the ripple of taut muscles underneath. She’s tense, obviously waiting for your next move with bated breath and kiss bitten lips.

But then you shift teasingly over her zipper.

“Let’s go,” you hum, pressing a final kiss to her jaw before climbing off of her anticipating figure. “No dessert before dinner.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fic #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou

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themostlesbianever · 13 days ago

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College AU Sevika x reader

A/n: I have to warn you guys this chapter feels very bland and meh to me, I have many ideas but those only work when Sevika is actually your friend so I didn't really know what to do

I've also decided that theyre at a college in seattle for info dumping reasons lol (im not basing it on a spesific college that is in seattle)

Throughout this fanfic you'll realise im writing this fic partly just to info dump. I'm gonna work a lot of my interests into this fic trust🙏

(also pls ignore any typos or forgotten capital letters🙏)

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You wipe away a few stray tears with your fingers and suck in a deep breath, closing your eyes, then breathing out slowly. You start making your way back to the dorm building, you had promised to meet up with your best friend Ekko. You’ve been friends for ages and did basically everything together. Including going to the same school.

You make your way back to your dorm, giving the door a knock before entering the room. Sevika is sitting on her bed mindlessly scrolling through her phone, she looks up at you. “Sup” she says, tilting her chin upwards slightly in greeting. “Hi, I’m just coming to get my phone” you pause for a second. “I’m going to meet up with a friend. He’s going to show me his room, and after that he wants to see ours, if that's okay with you”.

“Yeah that's fine” she answers and you grab your phone. “alright, see you in a bit then”. You leave the room and quickly check your messages. Ekko had sent you one earlier telling you which room he was in and you read it again twice to make sure you don't go knocking on the wrong door. You then make your way over to the elevator.

The building was divided in gendered floors, the first two for men and the second two for women. You step into the elevator and press the button for the second floor.

A soft ding sounds and the elevator doors slowly open, revealing your friend to you. He’s dressed in some simple black jeans that are far too big for him, they’re being held up by a white shoelace. He’s also wearing a simple white tank top with a leather jacket thrown over it, and black converse.

“Hey there stranger” he greets you with a big smile. He throws his arms out and embraces you, you encircle his torso just under his arms and pat his back a few times. “Hi dude, long time no see” you giggle after he lets you go. “Ha ha” he says sarcastically, you had seen eachother last week. “I know, im hilarious” you giggle and he playfully shoves you.

He leads you over to his room, when he opens the door your eyes widen a bit. “WHAT, this is bigger than my room”

“Sucks to suck I guess” he shrugs. Now it's your turn to playfully shove him. You make your way further into the room, then you sit down on his bed. "That's sexism” you joke, Ekko chuckles at that. You continue to look around the room, taking in all of Ekko’s decor.

He’s got a few, probably fake, plants on the windowsill. Plain white bedding sits on his bed, along with an owl shaped throw pillow, and a fluffy beige blanket. He also has various posters and photos stuck to his wall, including the same spiderman poster that hung on yours. He has various trinkets sitting on his desk. You recognise one of them to be a small stuffed owl you had given him quite a while ago. ”Dude, you still have this?” you ask him, picking the small owl up and petting it softly. “Yeah, why would I get rid of it?” he smiles at you as you put the owl back in its original spot.

Then your eyes wander over to the other side of the room, which remains undecorated. “Is your roommate just extremely boring?” you question and he tells you they haven't shown up yet. “Huh strange, I'm pretty sure everyone should be moved in already by now” you comment and he just shrugs his shoulders. “Lets see your room then” he says excitedly.

When you reach the door of your room you knock, alerting sevika that you’re here. “Come in” a muffled voice calls from inside. You push the door open and let ekko in. He looks around the room for a bit before his eyes land on your roommate.

“Ekko, this is Sevika, my roommate.” You gesture to sevika. “Sevika, this is Ekko, my best friend of like 11 years.” you announce, Sevika gets up to shake Ekko’s hand. “Dude you look extremely cool” he says, Sevika gives him a small smile. “Thanks man, you too”.

Ekko takes another look around your room, his eyes falling on your decorated wall. “Oh my god, you have pictures of toothless”. He walks over to the wall to inspect the pictures of your beloved cat up close. Sevika shifts her gaze from ekko to you. “You named your cat after a fucking dragon?” she questions, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

“What?” you exclaim, your voice taking on an offended tone. She lets out a small chuckle at this. “I’m not judging you” she reassures.

Ekko makes his way over to the body length mirror you put up. “C’mere” he says and you walk up to him. "What's up?” you ask. “We need to take a picture, obviously” he says while taking his phone out of his pocket. You drape your arm over his shoulder, bringing your hand up to the back of his head and putting up two fingers. “Really, bunny ears?” he asks. You simply nod and smile.

Ekko snaps a picture and holds his phone up so you can see it. “That's cute, can you send that to me?” you ask him, already knowing the answer. “Of course" he replies.

“Hey sevika, you want a picture with us?” Ekko asks Sevika, who has been quietly watching the interaction. “Why not?” she replies. She walks to the mirror and stands behind the both of you. “Damn you’re tall” Ekko says, eyeing sevika through the mirror. She just shrugs.

Ekko takes another photo, showing it to both of you to get approval. “Oh Sevika I should get your number” you say. “To send the photo and, like, for other stuff obviously”.

“Oh yeah sure man” she says and you and her your phone, she puts her number in and hands it back to you. You thank her and take a quick glance at the time. “Ekko you wanna go exploring and get some lunch?” you ask

“You already know the answer” He replies and starts making his way to the door. You look over at sevika. “You wanna come with?” you ask her. “Oh no that's okay, a friend of mine lives off campus and i'm going to their place in a bit” she replies and you simply nod at her before walking out of the room behind Ekko.

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Tag list: @0eatmysoulll0-blog @misswynters @vikaswife @ladycupa0-0 @d3adbrainer @vintage-karma @gravegoer

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika fanfic #fanfic #my post #text post #arcane x reader #writing #fic

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sturnioloshacker · 1 year ago

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virgin no more - a vinnie hacker smut

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: softdom!vinnie, sub!reader, praise kink, pussy eating, vanilla sex, soft sex, creampie, smut. this is an nsfw short, everything written is fictional. interact or don't, i'm not your mother

summary: you lose your virginity to your best friend vinnie

i’ve been thinking about it for so long and i feel that this time, it’s right. for years now, i’ve been a virgin. sure, i’ve had my fair share of kisses and makeout sessions in my past relationships, but i’ve never had sex with my past partners. one, i wasn’t ready and two, i’m terrified of losing it to someone i don’t trust with my heart and soul. but lately, i’ve been having thoughts about losing it to my best friend vinnie. vinnie and i have been best friends since his high school days in seattle. we both moved to la when he blew up on tiktok and now we’re both living in his new recently brought apartment.

it’s not my fault though! have you seen the man?! from his chiseled jawline to his perfectly sculpted god-like body that has been carved by the angels in heaven, he’s just simply irresistible. not only that, his personality is truly one of a kind. the sweetest, most caring human being on planet earth who wears his heart on his sleeve. the only problem is, he’s my best friend and i’m scared that he may not feel the same way that i feel about him. what if I ruin my friendship with him? that would be super awkward and embarrassing. then again, he hasn’t ruined our friendship every time he brings a girl home and fucks her senseless that she basically stumbles out of the house the next morning.

after taking the time to build up some courage, i decide it’s time.

“hey, vin. can i ask you something?”

“of course, what’s up?”

“this may be super awkward and embarrassing and you don’t have to answer, but what’s it like not being a virgin?”

“woah, um. it’s great, i guess. why you asking?”

“i guess what i’m trying to say is that i’m ready to lose my virginity.”

“that’s great, go for it!”

“i want to lose it to you.”

the silence in the room is so thick, you wouldn’t be able to cut it with a knife. vinnie and i sit opposite each other, our minds racing over what just transpired. great, i just ruined the most amazing friendship i could ever ask for.

“you want me to take your virginity?”

“yes. i trust you with my whole life. and i love you so much.”

“i love you so much. can i please kiss you?”

“please.”

he slowly leans in to capture my lips in one of the most passionate kisses i’ve ever had. the kiss is soft yet so hot. i feel him tug at the bottom of my shirt, wanting to take it off. i reach down to take it off my body, his eyes zoned in on my chest. his kisses move to my chest, kissing the tops of my tits before making his way down my cleavage. i unclasp my bra and remove it, letting it drop to the floor.

“they’re so pretty, oh my god. can i please touch?”

“of course, vin. they’re all yours.” i smile at him.

vinnie groans before using his big, strong hands to grope at my tits. squeezing, massaging, licking, sucking and biting, all of these combined had me weak in the knees. he’s making me feel so good right now, and we haven’t even had sex! i drop to my knees in front of him, the feeling of being so aroused is making me dizzy. my eyes are level with vinnie’s growing bulge. he looks big, is he going to fit? oh my lord, he’s not going to fit. i start pulling down his sweats, wanting to desperately see what he’s hiding. i release him from the confines of his underwear. jesus christ, he’s not fitting. there’s no way that all of THAT is going to fit inside.

“like what you see, princess?” he smirks.

“yeah i do. it’s so… big.”

“as much as i want your mouth around it, tonight’s about you.”

he grabs me by the back of my thigh, scooping me up into his arms. he gently throws me onto our bed before crawling up to me and placing a sweet kiss on my lips. he moves down my body, stopping at my panties. he looks up at me, a cute yet seductive smile plastered on his face.

“can i take these off, sweetheart? wanna see what i’m working with.”

“yes.” i breathe out, my heart racing and head spinning

he slowly removes my panties, gasping at the sight in front of him. he tosses my panties to the side before licking a stripe up my pussy with his tongue, earning a moan from me. i feel his tongue suck and lick at my clit, the feeling of pleasure rushing through my veins.

“you okay, sweetheart?”

“yes, please keep going. it feels unreal.”

vinnie continues his actions, only this time, he speeds them up. my little bundle of nerves that have never been touched by a man before are so alive and so sensitive, i can barely form any words now. i suddenly feel a tightness in my stomach. is this what i think it is?

“vinnie, i-“

“you close, baby?”

“i don’t know. my stomach hurts though.”

“you’re close to having an orgasm. want me to keep going?”

“yes! please don’t stop! i need to know what it feels like.”

vinnie sucks and licks my clit a little more before i feel a strange rush through my body. my legs shake at the intense pleasure, my stomach contorts and my pussy clenches at fresh air. my breathing is rapid but is soon calm as he slowly stops his actions.

“you did such a good job, baby. i’m so proud of you. you ready for my cock now?”

“i think so.”

“if it hurts, we’ll stop okay? i promise to go slow and make you feel good.”

“okay.”

vinnie lubes his cock up and jerks it for a bit before aligning it at my entrance. he slowly pushes in, the pain almost unbearable.

“want me to stop?”

“no, i’m okay. you can keep going.”

he pushes himself all the way in, bottoming out when he’s fully inside. we both moan at the feeling. i slightly adjust to make sure it fits and won’t destroy me. i nod my head, signalling to vinnie to move. he starts to slowly rock in and out of my pussy. the pain instantly becomes pleasure again as he fucks my walls. i wrap my legs around his waist, pushing him closer to me. he leans over, hovering over my figure before placing a kiss to my forehead.

“oh vin, you feel so good. i love you.”

“i love you more, sweetheart. god, i’m so glad you chose to lose your vigirnity to me.”

our lips connect in a passionate kiss. vinnie wraps his arms around my back, holding me close so that our chests are touching. he continues rocking into me and making me feel oh so good. i feel that strange rush coming back again, this time it’s stronger and right on the edge.

“oh vin, i’m close.”

“yeah? cum for me, pretty girl, cum on my cock for me.”

vinnie thrusts one last time and i feel all the same sensations from when he ate me out.

“oh fuck, pretty girl. you did so good, i’m gonna cum now okay?”

“please cum inside me, vincent. i need you so bad.”

vinnie moans at my words and it doesn’t take him long before he’s shooting ropes up and around my walls. i moan and whimper at the warmth inside me, watching it as it slowly leaks out. he pulls out and flops on the other side of the bed.

“that was amazing. you’re seriously the best.”

“glad you enjoyed, princess. now let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

he kisses my lips before scooping me up into his arms as we go to clean up our mess. i can now say that i’m a virgin no more and that my virginity has been taken by the one and only vinnie hacker.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker x reader

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di-writes-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

The Very First Night

Derek Shepherd x fem!Reader

One Shot

TW: Literally nothing. I’m taking a quick break from Evermore because I am so in love with this man I need to write some fluffy shit for him. No use of Y/N

A/N: This is based around the whole prom episode. I needed some self indulgent fluffiness. Also yes I’m ignoring both Meredith and Addisons existence in relation to Derek. Fight me.

When the chief announced that Seattle Grace Hospital would be holding a prom, you would have thought he was kidding if he didn’t look so deadly serious.

You made a point not to look at a certain man when he announced it.

Derek Shepherd has made it his ultimate goal to get you on a date with him.

Under any other circumstance, you would have said yes in a heartbeat. Hell, you would have been praying for him to ask the second you met him.

He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s a neurosurgeon for God’s sake, not to mention that he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Derek Shepherd is perfect.

He’s also your boss.

The one and only reason you aren’t leaping at the prospect of a date with him.

The label of “slutty intern sleeping with her boss to get ahead” isn’t an appealing one.

But still, the man is very convincing.

You’re doing charts when he sidles up to you, that smile you always stare at a little too long plastered on his face.

He leans against the counter your working on, watching you while you work.

And desperately try to stay professional when you look at him.

“Do you need something, Dr. Shepherd?” You use his title pointedly, a reminder of the barrier between the two of you.

He couldn’t care less.

“Just some information.” He speaks casually, shrugging as he begins to walk, and you follow him without a second thought.

He’s whittling you down, and you both know it.

“About…?” You try to force a smile off your face, but it’s no use. He’s infectious. His flirting. His smile.

Him.

You’re not somebody who fails. You’re an incredible doctor, you’re going to be an incredible surgeon. You were always considered an academic weapon, acing almost every class you’ve taken.

You don’t fail.

But when it comes to resisting Derek?

You think you’re about to.

“You got any plans for prom?” He speaks smoothly, comfortably, like he’s not a grown man asking a grown woman to the prom.

Like he’s not praying you’ll say yes.

You laugh, looking down at the ground instead of his eyes.

His beautiful eyes.

“I guess I’m coming, but no, I don’t have plans.” You place a special emphasis on plans. You both know what plans means.

A date.

Derek smiles, brushing your side gently, getting you to look back up at him, your gaze softening when you see him.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at nine.” He grins at you, looking very pleased with himself.

You go to speak, and you plan on saying no before you do. Explaining for what feels like the millionth time that nothing can happen between the two of you.

And hating every second of it.

But instead, it’s like your brain does you a favor, and speaks before you can decide what to say.

“Okay.” Your voice is a little breathy, and obviously nervous.

Shock passes over his eyes for a second before the smile on his face grows wider, reaching his eyes and making them sparkle.

Really, how the hell were you supposed to say no to that?

Your hands brush for a moment, his fingers sweeping past yours, sending your heart rate up.

He says something before walking away, but you aren’t really paying attention, more panicking at what you just got yourself into.

You’re going to prom with Derek Shepherd.

You never planned on taking this very seriously. You were just gonna throw on your dress from senior year, slip into some heels, and head back to the hospital.

But now?

Needless to say, you’ll be spending more time getting ready.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Two hours.

You left work early, and spent two damn hours getting ready for the prom.

All because of Derek Shepherd.

He’s the bane of your existence.

You can’t think around him.

You can’t think about much besides him.

When you’re with him, your happier than you’ve ever been.

Everything about him just makes you adore him more. His personality, his talent, his skills, his smile, his laugh, everything.

He might just be the love of your life.

You brush out the carefully placed curls in your hair, watching as they fall over your shoulders in waves. Your old prom dress still fits you, thank God.

The satin fabric hugs your waist, thin straps showing off your collarbone and shoulders.

A slit runs up from the bottom of the flowing skirt of the dress, stopping around the middle of your thigh.

Even you have to admit you look good.

You slip on your heels when you hear a knock at the door, and you swear you feel your heart stop.

You look at the clock by your bed.

9:00 exactly.

He really might be perfect.

Meredith peeks her head into your room, you’re living with her for the time being.

She smiles when she sees you despite how uncomfortable you look.

You haven’t been on a date in months, and you don’t think you’ve been this gussied up in years.

“You look great. I’m sure Derek’s gonna agree.” She teases you, all your friends have known you have a thing for Derek since you started your internship at Seattle Grace.

And now that you finally caved and said yes to a date with him?

You’re gonna be hearing a lot of shit about it tomorrow.

You can’t help but feel like this’ll be worth it.

“Thank you, and shut up.” Meredith laughs at your attitude, heading downstairs to her boyfriend, Finn.

You follow behind her, exhaling nervously before opening the front door to find Derek standing in front of you.

Derek, decked out in a suit and tie.

His hair is perfect, as usual.

And in his hands, a bouquet.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You mentioned it once. A simple, offhand comment. You can’t even remember how it came up. But he did.

He remembered. He cared.

He’s making it really hard for you not to fall in love with him.

For a second you recognized an expression on his face you’re not sure you’ve seen before. He looked nervous. That was before his classic McDreamy smile appeared on his face when he saw you.

“Did I get it right?” He asked, handing you the flowers.

You’re blushing like a schoolgirl, honestly a bit giddy. Here you are, getting flowers, being taken to prom by the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

You nod, taking them and stepping inside to let Derek in.

“Yeah, yeah you got it right.” You speak quieter than you usually would as you quickly place the flowers in the vase, smiling widely when you feel his eyes glued to your every move.

You turn around to find Derek watching you, a sweet smile on his face, a look in his eyes that means more than just simple attraction.

He admires you carefully, not as a painting, a still, lifeless thing meant for him to enjoy, to examine, to scrutinize.

No.

He admires you like a worshipper in church.

He adores you, and the look in his eyes might as well be a sign around his neck that reads ‘I’m in love with you.’

“You’re beautiful.” His voice is breathy when he speaks, and the words cause a vivid blush to rise on your face.

You utter your thanks shyly, stepping towards him and taking his hand when he offers it. He regains his composure quickly, slipping back into the flirty pattern you two follow.

Still, the basis of it, the reason why all of this is happening.

It’s not flirtation. Not attraction. Not even because you like each other.

It’s more than that.

It’s love.

He leads you to his car, you’ve been in it a couple times before, on the way to dinners you swore weren’t dates, nights spent with one another when you were still adamant on refusing to develop feelings for your boss.

Or, adamant on pretending not to, at least.

The car ride isn’t terribly long, but somewhere in the middle of it, your hand is on the middle console when Derek’s comes down from the wheel, landing on top of yours.

You don’t move, and he takes the opportunity to interlace your fingers, earning a smile from you that makes him wish he could freeze time and stay in this moment forever.

“Thank you, for asking me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you look over at him. His eyes stay glued to the road, but you watch as the corners of his mouth lift to a smile.

“Thank you for saying yes.” He quips back, looking over to you when you stop at a red light.

You laugh for a moment before responding. “It was about damn time.”

The moonlight glistens off his face as he laughs, every detail about him making you fall for him more.

He’s mesmerizing, and you can’t bring yourself to take your gaze off of him.

You’ve got it bad.

“Yeah, it was.” Theres still laughter lingering in his voice when he speaks, and you think you could melt right then and there at the sound of it.

It’s not long after that when you arrive at the hospital. You go to open your door before Derek does so for you, going to the effort of helping you out.

“What a gentlemen.” You say teasingly, letting your hand stay clasped in his as you walk into the hospital.

“I’ve been trying to land a date with you for months, I’m not gonna screw it up now.” He smiles down at you when he speaks, scanning your face. Pieces of hair fall to frame it, and he brings his free hand up to brush them away quickly, knowing the affect it has on you when you blush and look away quickly.

You’re honestly a bit shocked when you see how put together the whole event it, decorations are everywhere, and the lobby has been turned into a dance floor.

You already see a few people you know, the ones that came here with dates are already dancing, and the ones that are alone?

Well, they’re drinking the night away.

You don’t realize where Derek is taking you, too busy looking around, until his arm slips around your waist, and his other hand is holding yours as you’re pressed flush to his chest.

Derek Shepherd just asked you to dance, without saying a word.

“May I?” He’s good at this, and he knows it.

For a brief, insecure moment, you wonder why. You wonder if the reason this is so natural for him is because you’re not the only woman he does it for.

If you’re just a phase.

A tough one to crack.

You worry that he doesn’t feel the same way as you do.

But then, you look him in the eyes, and the softest, the gentle, loving, adoration in his gaze.

Your worries vanish like fog burning away on a summer morning.

“I’m not very good at this.” You warn, smiling sheepishly up at him as he begins to sway you, a grin on his lips.

You’re closer than you’ve ever been. Your free arm is thrown around his neck lazily, and you could melt into his embrace.

He leans down, whispering in your ear, his minty breath fanning over your neck. “I don’t mind.”

You smile when you hear him, laughing sweetly when he continues to dance with you. There’s a few people watching. You and Derek have become a topic of conversation around the hospital ever since he started pursuing you so strongly.

So, pretty much since your first day.

Neither of you seem to mind, to engrossed in each other to care. He hasn’t stopped looking at you this whole night. You’re always stunning, he usually can’t keep his eyes off you when you’re just in your scrubs.

But tonight?

You look like an angel came down to earth.

Derek lifts your arm above your head quickly and spins you, smiling brightly when the sound of your bubbly laughter reaches his ears.

It’s the best thing he’s ever heard.

When he pulls you back in your pressed close to him, touching his chest with yours, staring up into his cerulean eyes. Your breathe mingles as he looks down to you, his gaze flickering to your lips as he does.

Everything else feels like it just disappears. The only thing that matters, the only thing in your world, is the man standing in front of you.

You curse yourself for waiting so long. For always being so damn good. For not letting yourself have this sooner.

Have him sooner.

Every single time he asked you out, you wanted to say yes. But you didn’t, you were too focused on everything you shouldn’t have been.

Colleagues.

Expectations.

Assumptions.

Everything but him.

And now?

You’re done.

So when he leans forward, when his lips brush yours. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, and it makes your knees weak. It rips the air out of your lungs.

It flips your world upside down.

You could have repeated this moment forever and been happy.

You move against him, kissing back, running your hands through his hair. His hands slip further down your waist, coming to rest on the small of your back.

Your forced to pull away as you begin to run out of air, gasping a bit as you do. You press your forehead to Derek’s, smiling widely.

He pulls you in closer, and you bring your head to rest in the crook of his neck, and he sways you back and forth, abandoning any efforts of actually trying to dance.

“You got me.” You whisper, and you feel laughter rumbling in his chest when he hears you.

After all this time, all of the asking, all the flirting, everything.

You let go.

Let go of your worries.

And grabbed on to him.

And you are never, ever, letting go.

A/N: Soooo this is short and kinda cheesy ngl, but I hope y’all liked it.

edit: guys stop glazing we all know this doesn’t deserve over 600 likes

- di <3

#fanfic #fanfic writer #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #greys anatomy #derek shepherd #derek shepherd x reader #derek shepherd x you #derek shepherd x y/n #derek shepherd x yn #self insert #self insert fanfiction #fluff #confession

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classiccowboy · 9 months ago

Text

instagram j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his fiancée evie as they go through his football career.

* face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 873,190 others

evie: did some cowgirl shit

view all 2,739 comments…

millyg: yee frickin haw

> evie: bitches 🤠

user: NO WAY IS IT HAPPENING????

user: i was hoping this thing would get called off

joeyb_9: guess i better saddle up.

> evie: i’m coming home to you cowboy. 😉

user: no wait this is so cute

user: not ev in her cowgirl era

> evie: i fear it may be permanent

user: i cannot comprehend that you guys are so in love your getting married….

> user: wym you can’t comprehend it?? they’ve been together for like 7 years and are clearly very happy?

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, bose, and 912,054 others

joeyb_9: locked in #TeamBose

view all 5,108 comments…

user: this hairstyle is the best

user: ev is so lucky

> evie: like it truly doesn’t get better than this.

user: this is giving major top gun vibes

evie: i’m locked in on you. 🤪💗

> joeyb_9: 🌽

user: yalllll this man!

used: if you need consoling after this tough season hit my line

> evie: aw. i might take you up on that offer

> user: if there’s one things ev is going to do it’s make sure errrrrbody know joe is HER man

> user: no like its giving *insecure*

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 910,002 others

evie: my mood for the foreseeable future..

view all 3,107 comments…

user: angel girl

user: she’s a stunnnnna

lahjay10_: if joe ain’t bring some of those cookies tomorrow we may have a problem

> evie: only the best for you jay

user: a ray of sunshine

joeyb_9: photo by me, socks from my closet, cookies homemade, your smile out of this world.

> evie: the man that you are…

user: i don’t know if im rooting for you or not

user: this doesn’t seem like lifestyles of the rich and famous

> evie: you’re looking in the wrong place for that content

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, evie, and 816,901 others

joeyb_9: my hands don’t look small here

view all 6,738 comments…

user: delete this my girl has ig

bengals: caption 🤌

user: you remember what them haters had to say

evie: let’s put them to good use. 😉

> user: EV! it’s too early to be spicy in the comments!

> user: nooo she’s getting some of that BDJ 🤣

user: i wasn’t prepared for this today

user: GOODNESS GRACIOUS

evie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, and 520,091 others

evie: why is it always so cold in seattle?

view all 6,194 comments…

user: you’re giving pick me vibes

> evie: next time you’re looking for something to comment on, please, don’t pick me. (:

user: seattle is nice when it isn’t raining

user: period !!!

millyg: a moment for YOU 💗

> evie: i luv u.

user: these pics make seattle look bad

joeyb_9: the fit goes HARD

> evie: you can borrow it anytime 🤪

> joeyb_9: game day fit?

> evie: would def be top 5 of the season.

user: why are joe and ev always so goofy in the comments, and yall think they aren’t made for each other????

> user: no bc SAME! i don’t get why people think they aren’t a good fit. they’re obsessed with each other.

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 730,726 others

joeyb_9: Dark Knight

view all 5,720 comments…

user: that’s my QB

joemainmixon: 🐐

user: you ain’t him

user: WAKE UP JOE POSTED

lahjay10_: (TOP 2) DAM SURE AINT 2! 🐐

> evie: TELL EM JAY

user: smash

evie: i think i need a hero… 🥵

> joeyb_9: i’ll be your knight in black shoulder pads.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 820,092 others

evie: big week 😳

view all 5,118 comments…

user: my favorite wag

user: if y’all actually are getting married im sick.

user: are you going to share what’s happening?

user: you look STUNNING

user: wym??

user: not prepared for what’s about to go down. i have a feeling.

joeyb_9: 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼

> user: oh shit

user: not joe about to ruin his life if speculation is true

> user: wow everyone is supportive until you realize he really isn’t ever going to leave her for you. this is crazy behavior!

evie

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 1,737,026 others

evie: i think i like this little life.. 🤍

view all 15,829 comments…

millyg: and that’s MRS. Evangeline Burrow!

> user: not me just now finding out ev’s full name

> user: Evangeline??? Excuse me, that’s beautiful.

user: she doesn’t deserve it.

lahjay10_: we was TURNT TF UP!

user: i am sick with jealousy

bengals: The King and his Queen, congratulations!

user: only ring he will ever get but congrats

> user: marrying the love of your life is a bigger dub than the sb ever will be.

user: congrats!

sam_hubbard_: Finally!!

user: i knew it was coming and somehow i convinced myself he was smarter than this..

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, millyg, and 1,290,001 others

joeyb_9: Mr. & Mrs.

view all 8,628 comments…

lahjay10_: congratulations brudda!

user: most overrated player in the nfl

> user: bro can’t you let him enjoy his wedding?

user: congrats, now go get that other ring!

user: i give it a few months before they are done with each other.

> user: considering they’ve been together for almost a decade, i don’t see that happening

user: we all wish we were ev rn!

bengals: that’s our QB, you lucky boy!

user: another thing to distract him from winning the super bowl

user: not fair

millyg: i’m not crying, you are. jk i am crying. i’ve been crying all day.

user: he’s too famous for this, he will get sick of her.

evies ig stories:

#nfl #joe burrow #nfl imagine #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram

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pixiesfz · 10 months ago

Note

Is that Jessie fic getting a 3rd part? I want to see them reunite 🥺

I wrote this in my study I:

ALSO: I changed the club that y/n moved to because I was told Gotham wasn't near Portland and then I felt stupid but I'm not that familiar with NWSL

the set up j.f

plot: Your teammate is giving you a hard time about Jessie

warnings: angst part 3 of hey there

You had finally settled into your new home and had made your debut for Seattle Reign FC.

You had made some new friends and even kept in contact with almost all of the girls from Chelsea, Christine had come over every now and then to make sure you were okay but in reality there was only ever one girl that you wanted to see.

Jessie.

You hated yourself for it.

You were the one who broke her heart, you were the one to tear your relationship apart.

She has every right to ignore you.

But it still hurts when you would see each other in public and she wouldn’t even say hi.

But today was different. Today Seattle Reign would vs Portland Thorns and as both you and Jessie were midfielders you knew there would have to be some sort of altercation between you two.

Lauren Barnes, a friend you had made since your move was waving her hand in front of your face, trying to gain attention as you sipped on your hot chocolate. “Earth to y/n” she sang out and you looked up at her “Sorry?” you asked

“I said are you worried about the game but I think I already got my answer” she smirked “Oh” you shrugged “I guess”.

“So it’s true then,” Lauren said, leaning closer to you “What is?” you asked

“That you and Jessie dated before she moved to Portland”

You rolled your eyes at her eagerness “Yes we did Lozza, now go off and pester someone else” you whined, and the girl shook her head “Why’d you break up?” she asked “Because she was going to Portland and I thought my forever home was London” you told her “but you’re back here” she pointed out “I am” you nodded “So…” she trailed off “So?” you asked.

“So get back together!” she whisper yelled and you flinched away “Jesus Lauren” you whisper yelled back and she backed away sheepishly “Sorry”.

The girl didn’t stop making comments about the Canadian to you on the bus and in the changing room as you all got ready.

“You are not helping me,” you told the girl as you laced up your boots.

“I’m being honest I saw her looking at you when we were all checking out the pitch” she excitedly told you “No she wasn’t” you denied “She was! It was like you guys were playing tennis, every time you looked away she was looking at you and every time you looked at her she was looking away!”

“Do you mind focussing on the game?”

“Nope”.

You rolled your eyes in defeat and shrugged off your jacket “let’s go games about to start” you huffed and walked away.

Christine saw you walk out with a scowl as she was also planning to get an early start on the line-up.

“Kiddo what’s up?” she exclaimed and grabbed your shoulders, you turned your head towards her “Just a bad day,” you told her “Was it Lauren teasing you?” she asked and you shot your head up “How Did you-“ “I may have asked her to ask about Jessie to you” she admitted and you stepped back “why?”

“Because I have been pestering Jessie”

“Well stop,” you told her “Me and Jessie broke up a year ago” you started, not hearing the boots that were walking behind you “It’s been a year and I haven’t even got the courage to start a conversation with her and you guys are telling me to ask her out again, do you even know if that’s what she wants” you ranted.

Jessie has always been an early bird, to everything. It usually gave her peace and quiet but when she decided to join Christine at the line-up she definitely wasn’t expecting to see you waving your hands around whilst complaining.

“I haven’t even got the courage to start a conversation with her and you guys are telling me to ask her out again, do you even know if that’s what she wants?”

Your words were clean off your tongue and Jessie stepped away and hid behind the corner.

Ask her out again.

But you didn’t love her.

At least that’s what you told her.

“I’m sorry” you apologized to Christine and hugged her, sighing in relief when she smoothed her hands over your back “Freshen up kid, I’ll see you on the field”.

You walked away, thankfully to the front so Jessie didn’t have to worry about you but as soon as you were out of sight Jessie stepped to Christine.

“Why are you meddling?” she asked the older Canadian who was shocked to see her “Jessie-“ “She told me she didn’t love me and I moved states, I thought I was over her” she gritted her teeth “god” she cursed “you guys can at least talk about it,” Christine said and Jessie scoffed “she might have something that you’ll want to hear,” the older woman said softly “like what, how much she didn’t love for those two years of us dating”

“Jessie” Christine tried to reason but the girl back away “I’ll come when Janine does” she said and walked back to the room, opposite of where you had gone.

Christine watched her walk away and lifted her arms in surrender.

“Fucking kids”.

#woso x reader #woso #jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #part 4 coming right after

194 notes · View notes

trulybetty · 1 year ago

Text

Stood Up | Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no use of Y/N) Word Count: 1,668 Warnings: being stood up, torrential rain (always bring an umbrella), mentions of alcohol, a difference of opinions on Top Gun and some could call this fluff Summary: Stood up for a date that left you in the pouring rain, you seek refuge in a sports bar and before you can change your mind the man next to you strikes up a conversation AO3: Linked

A/N: so, I was supposed to be working on Bookstore Frankie as per the WIP poll the other day and technically (in my head at least) this is Bookstore Frankie, we're just meeting him a long time before he becomes Bookstore Frankie lol.

Also, consider this is my entry for @pedrostories’ celebration, enjoy! xx

Stood Up

The Seattle rain was relentless. It wasn’t even supposed to rain that day, the forecast ironically calling for sun and highs of warm heat, which had meant you’d left the house in a maxi dress and your flimsy denim jacket. So that meant no umbrella and certainly no practical footwear for the torrential downpour you found yourself in for the date you’d left the house over an hour ago for.

You'd been stood up, and now, thanks to All-Star Week, cabs were impossible to find.

You checked your phone once more, Uber was a wait of over an hour, said date had left you on read and Cat, your friend with a text. One that promised as soon as she could get out of dinner with her husband and his parents, would come and get you with a bottle of wine to commiserate the evening over at your place.

The door to the dimly lit bar slammed shut behind you, cutting off the relentless sound of rain pounding the pavement. You were soaked to the bone, rain dripping off your hair to your face, and in a less-than-stellar mood.

As you settled into a barstool and ordered a stiff drink, you tried to shake off the frustration. The bartender served you with an understanding smile and you were just beginning to relax when a voice from the end of the bar cut through the chatter of the bar.

“How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?”

You looked up, and some guy in a ten-gallon hat made eye contact with you with a flourish of said hat and a wink. Based on the accent and the Texas Rangers shirt he was certainly from out of town.

Your eyes rolled at the cheesy attempt, dismissing it with a casual brush-off. The downpour seemed to amplify the irritation simmering within you. Tonight was not the night for clichéd pick-up lines, especially from individuals who seemed to believe they had some inherent right to your attention.

As you took a sip of your drink, you exhaled and began to second-guess coming into the bar. You prayed for Cat to show up soon and get you out of there. Looking through the window, you thought about downing your drink and fleeing for somewhere else less crowded. You were already drenched; what more could the rain do?

But before you could think on it any further from the other side of you, a deep laugh resonated, and you glanced over to find a guy wearing a ball cap labelled 'Standard Oil', a beer resting in his hand, his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Can't believe that line didn't work. What's this world coming to?” he joked, raising his glass in a mock salute.

Despite your mood, a reluctant smile tugged at your lips, “A horse did me wrong once, a cowboy and I would be destined for heartbreak from the get-go,” you replied, playing along.

“How about a pilot?”

You raised an eyebrow, you hadn't missed the aviation logo on the shoulder of his shirt, “I feel like I’m being set up for a Village People joke here,” you eyed him wearily, “how often does that line work for you?”

He laughed into this glass as he took another sip, “A lot less than you think.”

You took another sip of your drink, “What a surprise.”

“Frankie,” he said, extending his hand.

You took it, his grip firm and warm and gave him your name.

He gestured to your soaked clothes, “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you admitted.

Despite your initial want to just drown your sorrows and maybe scroll through Instagram while you waited for Cat, you found yourself in conversation with Frankie. Turned out he was actually a pilot, a little elusive on the details of what exactly he did in the military, but a pilot nonetheless. That and he was currently stationed temporarily out of McChord Field, in Pierce County. He was up in Seattle for the weekend to meet up with some friends coming in from their own deployments.

Frankie's face turned playfully serious, his eyes widening as he said, “You're breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, come on! You’ve got to agree with me?!”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I never thought I'd meet someone so smart and yet so wrong at the same time.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “I could say the same about you.”

Frankie's eyebrows shot up in genuine disbelief, and his lips curved into a playful half-smile as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Not like 'Top Gun'? That's almost sacrilege in my line of work!” His eyes sparkled with amusement, revealing his lighthearted take on the situation.

When he’d mentioned he worked in aviation within the military, you’d jokingly asked if it was all like Top Gun and if he was a Maverick. Frankie had laughed at the question as he’d flagged down the bartender for another drink for you both. That had been before you’d voiced your true feelings on the 1986 cult classic.

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “I don't know, maybe it's the cheesy one-liners, or perhaps I just don't get the appeal of fighter jets.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “The appeal of fighter jets? Oh, you're really twisting the knife now.”

You giggled at his antics. The more you talked to him, the more you liked him. He didn't take himself too seriously. It was refreshing, especially considering your recent string of bad luck in the dating department.

“I'm sorry, I just don't get it,” you admitted, shaking your head.

Frankie's eyes softened, and he reached over to gently touch your arm. “It's okay. We can't all have perfect taste.”

“You think your taste is perfect?” you teased, enjoying the banter that had been flowing between you two all evening.

“In some things,” he winked, making your cheeks heat furiously.

When your phone buzzed with a message from Cat, signalling that she was outside, you found yourself a little reluctant to leave. It was strange, feeling a connection with a stranger on a night that had started with disappointment, and a part of you wanted to hold onto that feeling a bit longer. Frankie seemed to feel the same way, his eyes lingering on you as you gathered your things.

“Well Frankie, thank you for being a bright light in what was almost a terrible evening.”

“Pleasure is all mine,” he replied, his voice warm.

The two of you paused for a moment, the atmosphere suddenly more serious. He'd already mentioned that he was stationed temporarily and had hinted at an upcoming deployment. And though the good company and the buzz from the drinks had lightened your mood, you were still reeling from being stood up by the man you'd really thought you'd had a chance with.

You waved goodbye to Frankie and headed outside, the rain still falling heavily. As you approached Cat's car, thoughts of Frankie lingered in your mind, leaving you with a strange mixture of excitement and melancholy.

You were just about to open the door to the passenger side of Cat’s car when the noise from inside the bar broke through over the sound of the rain. Turning around Frankie was coming out of the door, you watched him look around before his eyes settled on you with a smile.

Throwing up the umbrella he had in his hands he dashed the short distance over to you, “Look,” he shouted to be heard over the traffic and the storm that was now brewing, “I thought maybe,” he paused looking a little at war with himself before he spoke again, “we could do this again? Maybe without the rain and the cowboy.” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and pressed a napkin into your hand. Under the cover of his umbrella, you opened it to see his name scrawled with his phone number and you shot him a smile.

“Call me?” Frankie asked, his voice suddenly softer, more intimate despite the storm raging around you.

“I will,” you assured him, tucking the napkin safely into your pocket.

With a final smile and a lingering look, Frankie dashed back towards the bar, and you climbed into Cat's car, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Cat, ever the observant friend, was already eyeing you with curiosity. “Okay, spill. Who was that guy? And why are you smiling like you've just won the lottery?”

You looked over at her, your grin widening. “That is Frankie. We just spent the last few hours talking in the bar.”

“Frankie?” Cat's eyebrows shot up. “Also, you stayed in that bar with a stranger for hours? That doesn't sound like you.”

And it really wasn’t, even going out for the date that eventually stood you up had been a push outside your comfort level.

Cat narrowed her eyes. “You sure you're not being catfished by this guy?”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips. “Cat, that means online, not in person.”

“Same thing,” Cat retorted, not missing a beat as she started the car. “You never know these days.”

“Anyway, he's only here for a temporary assignment between deployments. Not like anything really is going to happen.”

Cat glanced at you, her expression softening. “It's okay to have fun here and there, you know. Doesn't have to be serious all the time.”

You sighed, leaning against the window. “I know. It's just… different.”

“Different is good,” Cat said, her voice softening as she pulled away from the curb, knowing all too well your past relationship history. “Different can be very good.”

You looked at her, realizing how much you appreciated her support, even with her teasing. “Yeah, maybe.”

Cat's smile widened as she focused on the road. “Of course I'm right. Now tell me everything about this Frankie guy.”

#pedrostories1k #frankie morales/f!reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction

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upat4amwiththemoon · 2 years ago

Note

Could I please have an imagine where the reader moves to Seattle. She starts out as a pediatrician at grey loan. Around this time she realizes she's pregnant. With Carina DeLuca as her ob-gyn and coworker the two fall for each other. Carina did not expect to fall for a pregnant woman but realized she knows what she wants. So she asks you out and you say yes around the time you are halfway through the pregnancy. by the end of the pregnancy, it becomes clear you much you and your baby mean to her. When you go into labor she freaks out and comments that “My girlfriend is having our baby!” (you hear her say that but say nothing due to the pain). When the baby is born she is in awe of the tiny human but kinda keeps to the side for a few minutes until you say “come meet OUR son.” Carina tries to apologize for calling him hers but the reader says that Carina is his mother too. Just like a cute family thing please?

Our baby

Summary: The world is full of unconventional families.

Pairing: Carina Deluca x female!reader

Warnings: i have no real knowledge of pregnancy or other medical things, cursing

Word count: 2944

a/n: Carina Deluca please give me a chance🙏🏻

masterlists | guidelines

Arizona Robbins shows Y/N around the hospital, introducing her to the kids staying there for a longer period of time and some of the other doctors there. She just moved to Seattle and decided to continue working as a pediatrician at the Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, having heard a lot of good about it.

“All the kids already love you.” Arizona gushes, excited to have a new coworker. “I think you’ll be just fine.”

Y/N laughs. “That’s great to hear, I was really nervous to relocate here, you all seem so close.” She smiles, having seen how the doctors interact with each other.

“We are! We have gone through a lot together, so, we’ve gotten close. But don’t worry, you’ll fit right in. Doctor Deluca!” She stops another doctor. “This is Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, new to PEDS. And this is Doctor Carina Deluca, our OB-GYN.”

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N gives her hand out to shake, which Carina does.

“Nice to meet you too.” Carina looks at her up and down. “You’re not from here?”

“No, I moved from Boston.”

“That’s a long way.” Arizona comments. “I’m guessing the reason wasn’t just change of scenery?” Shaking her head, Y/N smiles. “I’ll learn about that later, I’m sure.”

“Sure thing.” Y/N laughs.

Carina glances at her pager. “Well, I’ll see you two later. I have a baby to deliver.” She gives them one last smile before walking away.

“Well, lets start the real work then. You’ll shadow me for a couple of days, so you learn where everything is and so on.” Arizona starts walking again, Y/N following right behind her. “I know you’re not a beginner, but you can still ask me anything you’d like.”

“Thank you, Dr Robbins. It’ll be a pleasure working alongside you.”

“Oh, please, call me Arizona.”

After a week of great work shifts, Y/N has started getting nauseous out of nowhere, especially in the morning and the middle of her shifts. Although, it’s very unusual for her, she hasn’t paid much attention to it. She has a hectic work after all, it must be the nerves.

Y/N writes down information to the kid’s chart on the tablet. “You’ll be just fine, Jules.” She assures, turning to the parents. “She’ll just get her some medicine and after making sure she reacts to it well, you can go home.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor Y/L/N.” The mother cries out in relief, grabbing Y/N’s hand.

“Of course. A nurse will bring the medication over soon.” She turns to the said nurse. “Make sure Jules doesn’t get any nausea-“ taking in a deep breath, she pauses, feeling increasingly nauseous herself, “or rashes. If everything is fine in thirty minutes, they can leave.”

“Got it, Doctor Y/L/N.” The nurse smiles and grabs the tablet out of Y/N’s hands.

With a nod and a smile, Y/N leaves the room, holding her stomach lightly. The sick feeling in her stomach is getting worse quickly. She walks into the break room to get some water from the fridge.

“Hey, Y/N.” Carina greets as she walks in.

Eyes wide, Y/N coughs, getting some water in her windpipe. “Hi.”

“Everything okay?” Carina laughs.

“Mhm.” Screwing the cap back to the bottle, Y/N grimaces. The water didn’t help the nausea. “Uhm, how are you?” Her voice comes out a bit strained, but she does her best to hide the sickness.

“I’m alright.” She stares at her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look too good.”

Taking few deep breaths, Y/N nods. She grips her scrubs tightly, as if it would lessen the pain she’s feeling. “Listen, I-“ Suddenly, Y/N runs into the bathroom. She drops down to her knees and starts vomiting.

“You’re definitely not okay.” Carina mumbles as she kneels next to Y/N. She rubs her back with one hand, while the other holds her hair out of the way. “When was your last period?”

Y/N heaves over the toilet, keeping her eyes closed. Vomiting was always difficult for her. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying?” She turns to look at Carina, who can only offer her a hopefully comforting smile.

After the vomiting stops, Carina takes Y/N to a examination room, so she can draw her blood. Now, Y/N is waiting on the bed for Carina to come back. Her mind is a jumbled mess. She isn’t sure what to think.

Carina steps inside the room. Y/N looks up at her expectantly. She sits down to a chair right next to Y/N. “You’re six weeks pregnant.”

“Oh, fuck.” Y/N holds her stomach with a shocked expression.

“Can I ask if this is a wanted pregnancy? Is the father in the picture?”

“Is this a- I don’t, I don’t know.” She gasps, feeling like the air is getting thinner. “The father is the sole reason I left Boston.”

“Okay, hey, I need you to calm down your breathing.” Carina grabs her hand. “Take some deep breaths.”

Y/N breathes in and out, following Carina’s lead. “I’ve always wanted kids.” She starts once her breathing is more stable. “I love them, that’s why I went into PEDS. But alone? I don’t know if I could do that.”

“You still have time to think, but, I think if anyone could do this, it’s you.” Carina rubs rubs the back of her hand with her thumb. “I am here for you every step of the way, whatever you decide to do.”

“Thank you, Carina.” Her voice wobbles a bit. “Are the hormones supposed to be all over the place yet.” She lets out a teary laugh.

“Yes,” Carina stands up. “They are going to be a mess through it all.”

Y/N stands up with a groan. “How fun.” She huffs and put her doctor’s jacket back on. “Well, thank you, Dr Deluca. I suppose I’ll be seeing you a lot.”

“You will, lucky me.” She smiles, opening the door for her. “See you later, Y/N.”

“See ya.” Y/N waves as she walks back into her shift, like nothing happened.

After three weeks, Y/N has her first official appointment with Doctor Deluca. She has made her decision and is ready to confirm it with her OB-GYN. “Ready for your first ultrasound?” Carina sets up the machine while Y/N climbs up to the examination bed.

Nodding, Y/N stares at Carina. “Everything will be okay, right? There’s not going to be anything bad in there.” Carina raises her brows while listening to her ramblings. “I’m totally feeding into the doctor’s are the worst patients stereotype, aren’t I?”

“Hmm, just a little bit. May I?” Carina takes hold of the hem of Y/N’s shirt, lifting it only when she gives her permission to do so. “This is going to be a little cold.” The gel feels chilly against her stomach, which makes her flinch. “Now, I’m going to press this to your abdomen and move it around bit to see everything.” Once the probe presses against her stomach, Carina starts studying the ultrasound image.

The longer she stays quiet, the more worried Y/N gets. She tries to see the screen, but it’s angles just out of her sight. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes!” Y/N lets out a sigh of relief. Turning the screen to face her, Carina shows Y/N where the embryo is. “It is around 22 millimeters long right now, there’s its head and limbs.” She points around the screen. “Its tiny muscles are starting to develop at this tome. Want to see if we can hear the heart?”

“Can we? This early on.”

“We can with a Doppler monitor.” Carina puts the ultrasound machine to the side and cleans the gel from Y/N’s stomach, before putting gel on the probe of the monitor. After that, she presses the head of the probe against Y/N’s abdomen, moving it around to find the right spot. “Can you hear that?”

A quiet, but clear galloping sound can be heard through the monitor. Y/N hums with a nod, biting her lips as she can feel herself get emotional.

“Sounds like a perfectly strong heart.” Carina smiles at the look on Y/N’s face. Even though she has done the same thing multiple times, this feels just a bit more special compared to the other ones. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel…” Y/N sighs deeply. “I don’t even know how to word it. I’m tired and so scared, but I feel amazing. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

There’s a permanent grin on Carina’s face as she listens to Y/N talk. She likes to listen to her talk, even if it’s just nervous rambling.

“Is that normal?”

“To feel like you’re going crazy? Yes, it is, you have nothing to worry about.” She sets her hand on her leg, rubbing it in a comforting manner. The actions makes Y/N’s cheeks warm and stomach flip.

“Thanks.” She breathes out, clearing her throat. “My shift starts in twenty.”

“I’ll let you go get ready then.” Carina wipes any remaining gel off of Y/N’s stomach and pulls her shirt back to normal. “I’l see you around?”

“Yes.” Y/N hops off the bed.

Opening the door, Carina sets her hand on Y/N arm to stop her from walking out. “Will I ever see you outside of the hospital?”

A shy smile grows to her face. “Definitely.”

“Heyy,” Carina lifts her hands up in celebration, “look at that bump! We’re halfway there.” Y/N laughs, closing the exam room door. “Today is a very important ultrasound, are you ready to know the gender of your baby?”

“I am more than ready.” She lays down to the bed, lifting up her shirt and lowering her pants so her stomach is visible.

“What are you hoping for?” Carina sets everything ready for the ultrasound, it all being normal for Y/N now. She puts of the gel as Y/N says she doesn’t have a preference. With a smile, Carina puts the probe to her abdomen and starts moving it around. “Everything is looking good.” She mumbles, trying to find an angle where she could see the baby’s sex. “I can see all ten fingers and ten toes.” Suddenly she starts grinning. “Do you want to know your baby’s gender?”

“Yes.” Her voice comes out quietly. She bites her lip as she stares at Carina.

“It’s a baby boy!”

Y/N laughs, excited to know something about her future baby. She opens her arms when Carina leans down to hug her. “I have to start thinking about names.” She whispers.

Carina pulls away from the hug to put the ultrasound machine away. “Don’t have options yet?” She asks while wiping away the gel.

“No. I’ve been too stressed and tired to think about anything.” She lets out and airy laugh, pulling her clothes back to normal. “But knowing he is alright in there, maybe I can give myself some rest.”

“Please do. Have you felt him kicking yet?” Y/N nods with an excited grin. “May I?” She sets her hand under Y/N’s shirt once she gets her permission. They wait in silence, nothing happening, but after a while, a small kick can be felt. Carina cheers and rubs Y/N’s stomach.

“It still feels so unreal.”

They stare at each other with wide smiles and shiny eyes. The two have been going out for months now, but they still haven’t made anything exactly official, mostly because Y/N is worried about her pregnancy getting in the way of their relationship. But it just feels so right, like it’s meant to be. Every time Carina touches her, whether is for medical or other reasons, Y/N gets such a high from it.

“You know I want this, right?” Carina lets her hand stay on Y/N’s stomach. “I want you and everything that comes with it.”

Y/N bites her lip, setting her hand on top of Carina’s. “You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

“You aren’t going to back down once you realize how insanely the hormones are affecting me? We’re only half way there.”

Rolling her eyes, Carina nods. “I’m not backing down. I want to be there for you, not only as your OB-GYN, but as your partner.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

“Yeah.” Carina leans closer, waiting for Y/N to say anything against what she’s doing in case she isn’t feeling it, but when she just nods, Carina presses her lips to Y/N’s.

One of Y/N’s hands goes up to Carina’s hair, combing though it. Carina pulls away, but stays close enough to feel each others breaths. “I might start crying unless I leave, like right now.” Y/N whispers, feeling her emotions taking over.

With a chuckle, Carina fully pulls away, giving Y/N some space to stand up. “I’ll see you at your apartment after my shift?”

“Yes.” Kissing Carina’s cheek, Y/N leaves right after.

Humming a song quietly to herself, Y/N is going through the patients’ charts. Her shift is almost at the end, so she likes to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.

“Bambina.” She smiles at the sound of Carina’s voice, even when it sounds disapproving. “You should be resting.”

“I’m fine, Carina.” Y/N smiles at her, pecking her lips. “Besides, my shift ends any second now.”

“You’re about to give birth any second.” Her brows are raised as she sets her hand on Y/N’s stomach. It’s true, Y/N is a few days over her due date, but she wants to help out as long as she can.

Y/N’s smile somehow widens from the mention of giving birth soon. She’s absolutely terrified, but also so excited to meet her son. “I know,” she grins, “but there still kids that need me.”

“Sometimes you should just stop the day.” Carina states, which makes Y/N furrow her brows. “Make it a day?”

“Call it a day.”

“Yes.”

Y/N laughs, setting the tablet down. “I know, but I’m still feeling gr-“ She gasps, taking hold of her stomach.

Carina goes into worry mode immediately. She takes hold of Y/N. “What? What happened? Are you okay?”

Taking few deep breaths, Y/N looks down at the floor that’s now wet. “My water just broke.” She mumbles. Straight away, Carina goes to grab a wheel chair for her, helping her down to it. Y/N pushes air out of her mouth. “It hurts.”

“Everything will be okay, Y/N. Everything will be okay.” The last sentence is mostly to herself, as Carina is starting to feel terrified by the situation. Her girlfriend is about to give birth right now. “We need an OB!” She shouts as they arrive to the right floor. “She’s about to give birth.”

A group of nurses jog over to them, they bring Y/N to a bed and start getting everything they need ready. “Aren’t you her OB?” One of the nurses asks.

“My girlfriend is having our baby! I can’t deliver him.” She panics.

The nurse nods, paging another OB-GYN to their location. Y/N cries out in pain, not able to pay attention to anything happening around her. The doctor arrives fast and starts doing her thing right away. Carina stays in the room, but in the sidelines, giving them space to work.

“Hey there, Doctor Y/L/N.” The OB smiles, putting on gloves. “This is your first baby, right?” She sets Y/N’s legs to a correct position so she can see everything.

“Yes.” Y/N’s breathing is getting faster from the pain. “Can I start pushing?” She gasp when the pain increases.

“Yes you can.” The OB glances at Carina. “Does Doctor Deluca want to come over here and hold Y/N’s hand?”

Carina snaps out of her panic and drags a chair next to Y/N’s bed. She sits down and grabs Y/N’s hand. “You’re doing so good.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Y/N screams as she pushes. Her grip on Carina’s hand tightens every time the pain gets stronger. “How long is this going to take?” She cries out.

An hour and a half later, the baby’s cries can be finally heard. Y/N slumps down to the bed, laughing and crying in relief. “Can I see him? Can I see my baby?” Her eyes are half closed, finally feeling everything.

A nurse cleans the baby down, before bringing him over to Y/N. She smiles widely as she takes hold of him. “He’s so beautiful.” Y/N whispers, caressing his head gently. She turns to look at Carina, who has moved back to the side. She looks amazed by everything that just happened. “Come meet our son.”

Carina’s eyes widen, she thought Y/N hadn’t heard her. “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called him mine, he is your son.” She starts apologizing.

“Shut up.” Y/N laughs quietly, stretching her hand towards Carina. “He is our son. You said no backing down, remember?”

Carina’s eyes tear up as she takes Y/N’s hand and sits back down next to her. “Hello, my angioletto.” She whispers, grabbing his extremely small hand with her free hand. Looking at Y/N, she mover her hand to rub her cheek. “You did such a good job, bella.”

Y/N smiles, kissing her palm. “We have a son.”

“We have a son.” Carina laughs, looking over her family.

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angryandanonymous · 1 year ago

Text

Doodle of Steve and Tony getting together when Steve turns up at Tony’s Seattle flat to see/surprise him during @cherryblossomsmist “The Single Biggest Problem with Communication” . A fic I am happy to draw all day long (I’m also happy to draw Tony’s thighs all day long) This interaction is just so sweet, and there are so many delicious angsty layers of misunderstanding and miscommunication that still can’t hide the love that these two dorks have for each other.

The scene from the fic;

‘‘[Steve] pulled Tony into him. Tony might be heavier, but Steve was still strong enough to move him, even to get his hands under him and lift him, and that was exactly what he did, pulling him into his lap so his knees landed on either side of Steve’s hips. He could probably have done it even with Tony in the armor; in fact, he was sure he could (and wasn’t that a thought?).

“Hey,” Tony said, breathlessly.

Steve reached up, framed Tony’s face with his hands, running his fingers back into his hair. He smiled at him. “Yes?” he asked, grinning.

“Manhandling me?” Tony said, starting to grin a little back.

“Sure, a little,” Steve said, moving his fingers gently in Tony’s hair. It was soft against his fingers, tangled already. Tony’s erection was very hot and very present, pressed into his stomach, now. “You got a problem with that?”

“Not really,” Tony said. “You were pretty thorough about it the other day. When we were sparring, I mean.”

“Not as thorough as I could be,” Steve said, smirking.

Tony’s skin darkened a little, and Steve could feel it heat against his hands. Tony had flushed at that. Steve grinned with delight.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Tony muttered. He shifted his hips a little, up into Steve. “Plan to demonstrate, or are you just teasing?”

“Maybe a little of both,” Steve informed him.

Tony smirked, now. “I guess that’s acceptable,” he said, dropping his gaze to look at Steve from under his eyelashes, which apparently went straight both to somewhere in Steve’s chest to make it tighten a little and to his cock, making it jerk with a heated rush of desire. Steve pulled Tony closer, tilted their foreheads together, and Tony bit his lip as it pressed their groins tighter up against each other.

It felt good, but Steve wasn’t that interested in rushing to the main event, not yet. Instead he waited until Tony cast his eyes up toward him again, raising one eyebrow, then tilted Tony’s head with the grip he had on him and brought their lips together. Tony sucked in his breath and opened his mouth, and Steve set about kissing him thoroughly, running his fingers back through his hair in slow circles as he did. Tony made a low noise and curled his hands back around Steve’s neck, and his cock grew even hotter, slick and hard and needfully wet with precome as they kissed; Steve could feel it sliding hot against his stomach, so hard he half-wondered how far he could bring Tony toward climax just by kissing him with tongue.’’

Written work is all @cherryblossomsmist work, only the drawing and the description before the fic extract are mine .

#angryandanonymous #fanart #my artwork #616 tony stark #616 stony #iron man #stony art #tony stark art #616 steve rogers #616 tony #stony fanart #fanart of fanfiction #smut

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homestuckreplay · 2 months ago

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Skaia: *20d6 fire and 20d6 bludgeoning damage*

(page 756-758, again)

One day later, I can confidently say that WV: Ascend is the coolest thing Homestuck has done so far. There’s an impressive amount happening in just two and a half minutes of animation - it does a great job at advancing most of the storylines that have been woven throughout Act 2, and setting up some new mysteries for Act 3.

First and very excitingly, we get the coordinates of John’s neighborhood when WV’s bunker flies overhead. John lives at 47.362101, -122.054144 – a suburb in Maple Valley, Washington, about halfway between Seattle and Tacoma. It’s even near a lake, just like the one we see in zoomed out shots of John’s house. Real life pictures of this area look like a very generic suburb, one that could be copy-pasted from lots of parts of the US, so it’s perfect for his context. I really love the idea of John being so close to the ocean – a place associated with openness and freedom – yet so unable to access it.

John himself doesn't appear in the animation, only his home does. I think the same is true for GG. The coordinates of WV’s appearified pumpkin (coordinates p.733, pumpkin seen next to GG on p.665) are identical to those of the frog statue, where WV touches down. Every possible clue to GG only makes her more mysterious, and the idea that she could live in a place so connected to Skaia is no exception. If she has some access to Skaia’s potential, this could explain her knowledge of the future, especially in regards to Sburb. I’m guessing that this statue and GG both will play a big role in Act 3.

The Peregrine Mendicant, as they approach the ruins of John’s house and the apple shaped bunker close by, may also have a role. Since we know Sburb’s pre-punched card can contain a variety of items, and the apple and its tree were John’s, I’d guess that Rose’s item will be cylindrically shaped – as suggested by someone on discord, it could even be a can.

WV: Ascend really highlights the malleable and nonlinear role of time in Act 2, and takes us much further back into the past, and a little further into the future, than anything so far, radically expanding the scope of the story geographically and chronologically. I’m going to discuss time in Act 2 at length in an essay I’m currently planning, but for now I want to mention the meteor that collided with Earth in (apparently) prehistoric times. This happened before the Pacific Ocean was even an ocean, and the raptor flying overhead once it has become an ocean suggests that the meteor, Skaia’s power over Earth, and the frog statue built inside the crater, all far predate recognizable life on Earth. Page 545 shows us that Dad has been collecting newspaper clippings related to meteors for decades. This felt pretty huge at the time, but is made vastly insignificant by the idea that such meteors go back millions of years. Who’s to say it wasn’t the ‘creative potential’ of Skaia that created life on Earth itself????

I went through act 2 to find all the ‘psyche!’ moments, so here they are: PSYCHE cuts from Rose to Dave (p.308), OH SNAP cuts from Dave back to Rose (p.357), PSYCHE and OH WAIT – x2 DOUBLE PSYCHEOUT COMBO cuts from Dave to GG to WV (p.665) and finally, PSYCHE?? – UNPSYCHE. cuts from the fakeout end of act animation to the actual end of act animation.

Beyond just these moments, act 2 is very focused on transitions – fitting, as it begin with John’s transition from Earth to the Medium. Some others that get highlighted by the narrator or player are John to WV (p.270-271), Dave to John (p.466-467 and p.613-614) and John back to Dave (p.663-664). Cuts between John and Rose are never highlighted, perhaps due to the link between them as co-players making these feel more natural.

I’ve mentioned before that WV’s ‘Years in the future…’ pages have always been followed by Rose’s GameFAQ pages (p.248-249, 271-272, 439-440 and 509-510), creating a parallel between these two characters. Finding out that they are in the same physical space, four hundred and thirteen years apart in time, both vying for control over John Egbert, is such a cool payoff to this with a BIG implication. Does being a Sburb server player create a sort of ‘node of potential’ in that physical location through which it’s possible to control the corresponding client player? Does this mean John eventually becomes a server player? Does this happen so that Sburb guarantees that if something happens to a server player – for example, dying to a meteor while trying to enter the game themself – the client player can still be guided through the game? Are these bunkers really natural formations, as the animation implies, or are they formed through some kind of alchemy? A combination of both?

Both Rose’s mom and Dave’s bro appear in this flash, although their stories are still entirely tied to their charges, while John’s dad (Mr. Egbert? Clown Egbert? Can Clown be a honorific?) now has an arc of his own. All of the guardians seem to be in control of their own situations, but Dad is now far away, while Nannasprite has taken on the role of actively looking after John.

We already knew Dave’s bro was a scheming mastermind setting up saw traps for his brother, and Dave being colored in orange, pink and yellow as he stands on the rooftop reminds me of the red, pink and yellow of Rowlf in Bro’s ‘ironic’ comic (p.565) – but this is the first time we’ve seen Bro’s actual, non-silhouetted form. We’ve seen Rose’s mom before, but she’s now revealed as an equally high level mastermind, and it casts her actions in a whole new light. Mom did not erect Jaspers’ mausoleum in a ‘spirit of scornful IRONY’ – she was in fact concealing an escape hatch to which only she knew the passcode. How much she knew about the specific circumstances it might be used in is still up in the air, as well as why she waited for this exact moment, when Rose has already been in danger for hours, but I think there’s a lot more to her than being a (possible) neglectful alcoholic.

After this very beautiful animation, the curtains close on Act 2 (p.758) identical to those closing on Act 1 (p.247), and to those opening on the Skaian gates during Nannasprite's lore (p.422). Thanks, Act 2. I miss you already.

Also I still love that frog.

#homestuck #reaction #eoa2 #chrono #acts 1 and 2 were honestly so different. i cant decide which i liked better.#probably act 2 has higher highs and more to chew on as a unit #but was definitely slow in places #act 1 was Tight and never dragged and a perfect setup but was also less experimental #and it didnt have the frog........#also i am going to hard word limit my act 3 posts.... this is the last long reaction post

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daughterofcain-67 · 1 year ago

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𝑀𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒪𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒜𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈

(Alec McDowell x Female Reader)

𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝: PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE MISTLETOE WITH ALEC 🙏 I NEED THAT MAN LIKE I NEED AIR 😭 anyway love u <3 (Anonymous)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: Thank you so much for your request, Love, and I hope that you enjoy! 💖

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Alec isn’t really into the holiday season but when Max forces him to go to a party, he starts to get curious about certain traditions. Little does he know that you’d be willing to show him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This is not accurate to the show, sorry to those who know if Alec has already celebrated Christmas or not. This is in essence Alec’s first real Christmas without having to train or be on any sort of mission.

It was a cold, honestly ugly day in Seattle. There were piles of muddy snow where people would walk, and people would complain about freezing their asses off. Meanwhile some other people would talk about the upcoming holidays and how they should enjoy the time while it was there. Even when that may have been easier said than done for some people.

Alec never would have thought in a million years that he would be standing right here. He knew of what Christmas was because of how Max had described it to him sometime after Manticore blew up. But he never thought he’d actually get around to celebrating it. Not really.

Most of his Christmas’s growing up on the military base were spent either training or working on some kind of undercover mission. He’s never experienced the whole decorating a Christmas tree thing or making gingerbread houses, or anything like that. And since he escaped, he wasn’t necessarily sure that he really wanted to be a part of the holiday activities. He didn’t really see the point.

At the moment Alec had just arrived to the post office to clock in for the day when Max caught him. He lifted a brow as he looked down at the fellow mutant soldier and smirked.

“Isn’t it a little early for you to be seeking me out?” He asked and Max nudged his arm and rolled his eyes.

“It’s way too early for you to be a smart-ass.” Max said, “Anyway, I only came over because Original Cindy and I are going to have a Christmas party at our place and she thought that it would be a good idea for you to swing by.”

“You mean you aren’t going to your little boyfriend’s place for the night? That’s a first.” Alec smirked.

“Logan is coming by too.”

“Right, and you think I’d actually go to a party like that?”

“Why not? You seem to be the type to go to any other party. And it’s not like there won’t be any girls there for you to flirt with.” Max reminded.

“How dare you?” Alec feigned offense by placing a hand over his heart, “You really think I’d only go to a party for girls?”

“You would if you thought the girls were hot. And I know for a fact Y/N is gonna be there.”

Alec’s brows raised up for a moment, “So?”

“Oh don’t act like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I see the way you look at her and the fact that you have talked to literally all of the girls here except her kind of speaks volumes.”

“No one ever said those statistics always have a positive outcome.” Alec commented. “Besides, I don’t care who’s going. And I just haven’t gotten around to talking to her yet. I’ve been talking to some others first, is that so wrong””

“Uh, little on the defensive aren’t we? Okay well, you’re going whether you like it or not. It’s not like you have any other plans other than hitting the bar or the strip club tomorrow night, right?”

Alec rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little called out since that would likely be the only plans he would have. “Tomorrow night? Yeah, I guess it won’t kill me to make an appearance.”

“Good. Now I’ll see you around.” Alec watched Max leave.

Honestly, he hated how much Max was starting to be like a sister - in the sense that she was starting to know him a little too well and she’s starting to read him like a book. But he supposed it wasn’t totally a bad thing. She did tend to have his back the more they got to know each other. He was thankful for that kind of sibling bond - even if she was a pain in his ass most of the time.

While Alec was heading to his locker, he caught a glimpse of you taking some packages and put them in the basket of your bicycle.

So what if he hadn’t talked to you yet? He’s seen the way that you were with people. You were so optimistic about so many things even if this world was shit. You have a certain charisma that pulls everyone towards you and they like you almost instantly, whether you care to talk to them or not. You were just approachable, likable.

Not to mention beautiful.

Sure, Alec has talked to several women and yes a lot of them were attractive. But none of them were quite like you. You had the most beautifully colored eyes he had ever seen, and the way your hair frames your face so perfectly. Everything about you was stunning, but he knew that you had to have some kind of boyfriend already.

Just because Alec talked to a lot of women, that didn’t mean he was the kind of guy to go after someone else’s girl.

In the midst of his thoughts, he didn’t realize he had been staring at you. Not until he saw you wave and he blinked before he looked away, slamming the locker door shut and he went to go deliver packages.

You were a little stunned when Alec abruptly slammed his locker door and walked off. That was a little unlike him.

Then again, you weren’t necessarily sure what he was really like at all. You barely knew a thing about him, much to your dismay.

“You good?” Max asked and you glanced over just to see her and Cindy standing together.

“Yeah, just wondering if Alec’s alright. He was staring at me, I don’t think he realized that he was. But when I waved at him, he slammed his locker and went to start his route.” You explained and Max chuckled.

“Oh don’t worry about him. I’m sure he’s fine. He has his random moments, I swear he’s not normally that awkward. Maybe he had something on his mind.”

You shrugged it off, but you still couldn’t help but wonder what he was staring at you like that for. It was a little creepy if he just did it for no reason. But you turned back to your basket to make sure your packages were secured while Max spoke again.

“You’re still coming to the party tomorrow night right?” She asked.

“Yeah! It wouldn’t be a party without you there.” Original Cindy smiled and you grinned. How could you let your two best friends down.

“I didn’t exactly have anything else planned now did I?” You replied, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great! Now don’t forget that it’s at six tomorrow.” Max reminded and you nodded.

“I won’t forget, and I’ll see you there.”

As Max and Original Cindy walked off, you grinned at them. You never thought that you’d have this sort of camaraderie when you started working here at the Jam Pony. Max and Cindy took you. Under their wing practically from the first day you started working here three years ago. You had gotten to the Jam Pony two years before Alec did.

Alec..

He was certainly an interesting character you had to admit. Attractive, sarcastic as hell, but he never failed to make you smile even if he didn’t intend to. He just had that kind of personality you supposed.

You wondered if he would be at the Christmas party, or if he’d find different ways to spend his time.

Honestly you hoped that he would decide to come to the party. Maybe that would be the chance you would have to actually talk to him and maybe get to know him a little outside of work.

After all, everyone could use a friend.

You were enjoying yourself at Max and Original Cindy’s party. There was some faint Christmas music in the background but it was mostly overshadowed by people talking amongst themselves and having a fun time.

You couldn’t help but notice how Max seemed to really let down her walls around Logan. He seems really sweet to her and you hoped the best for the two of them.

In a way you envy them. You’ve never found someone that made you feel the way Logan made Max feel. You simply figured that it wasn’t your time yet.

Anyways, you were leaning against the counter top in Max and Cindy’s kitchen while Cindy and Sketchy were talking. You heard about half of what they were saying, yet the other half just went straight though your other ear.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Sketchy waved the palm of his hand in front of your face, causing you to look up at him and then at Original Cindy.

“Girl, whatcha thinkin’ so deeply about?” Cindy asked you and you shrugged.

“Nothing, just watching people enjoy the party.” You insisted.

“Oh come on, now’s not the time for people watching! Here, let me pour you a drink.” Sketchy said and he grabbed one of the solo cups from the counter to make some kind of concoction.

“She’s got it bad for him, doesn’t she?” Cindy asked as she looked at Max and Logan.

“I’d say so. They have their cute moments. Although Max should lighten up a little more and let something come out of whatever it is they’ve got going on.” You let out a sigh.

“Yeah well I give it another hundred years before those two become official.” You heard a different voice chime in. When you looked over, you and Original Cindy saw that Alec made an appearance after all.

“About time you showed up.” Cindy said with a smirk, putting a hand on her hip, “What took you so long?”

“Better late than never, right? Besides, I had to make a pit-stop.” Alec said as he held up a couple of six packs.

“Ah great! We’ve got some extras.” Sketchy said when he came back with your drink and he handed it to you, then he took the six packs from Alec to put them somewhere with the other drinks.

“I didn’t think you would show up.” You said with a chuckle and Alec looked down at you since he was significantly taller than you were.

“I mean I thought about it. But you know Max. She can be awfully…”

“Persuasive?” You completed and Alec chuckled before he nodded.

“So, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t he come to this thing?” He asked you, and you were confused.

“Was I supposed to have a boyfriend to come to this thing?” You asked with a chuckle, then you realized he looked confused for a moment, “Who told you I had a boyfriend?”

“No one, just an assumption.” Alec said with a shrug then he looked over at Sketchy, “Here, let me help you with those so you don’t spill anything.”

About an hour went by and it was starting to get a little late. Some people left a little early because they had earlier shifts, but the ones who had later shifts or had days off tomorrow stayed behind. Alec happened to be the ones that stayed behind.

Although something caught his eye.

There was a green plant with red ribbon pinned on the doorway separating the kitchen and the living room of this place. Anytime two people lingered beneath it and they were either caught or they noticed it for themselves, they would kiss.

This happened a couple of times and it was starting to puzzle him, did people kiss under the mistletoe on purpose?

“You’re doing that thing again.” Alec heard your voice.

When he looked at you, you were holding two styrofoam cups full of cider and you offered him one.

“What thing?” He asked you before thanking you for the cider. It felt warm in his hands and he took a sip of it.

“That staring thing. I wouldn’t make it too much of a habit. Some people might get creeped out by that.” He heard you chuckle and he figured you meant about the previous day.

“Sorry about that. I guess I should break that habit.” He chuckled and you smiled at him.

“No worries. Just wondering if you’re alright.”

That was… oddly sweet of you. Then again, he knew that it was in your nature from what he had observed about you, “I’m alright. Just a little confused by the amount of make outs that have taken place under that doorway.”

He watched you glanced over to the corridor and he heard you chuckle before you looked up at him, “Do you not know what happens under the mistletoe around this time of year?”

Alec shook his head and he saw a look on your face, maybe shock? “I’ve been told I live under a rock.” He explained.

“Ah… well typically when a couple stands beneath mistletoe, they kiss. It’s one of those Christmas tradition things.” You replied and Alec lifted a brow a little.

“How did you not know that?” Alec heard the curiosity in your voice and he let out a nervous laugh before he rubbed the back of his neck, covering up the barcode.

How was he supposed to say that where he came from, he was a soldier and Christmas traditions were the last thing the soldiers of Manticore were concerned with, “Where I come from, we didn’t really celebrate Christmas or indulge into those traditions. So I’m a little bit of a late bloomer with knowing what some of the traditions are.”

You gazed up at him as he talked to you. This was probably the longest conversation you’ve ever had with Alec, and you honestly hoped that it wouldn’t end anytime soon.

“I see.. well there’s nothing wrong with that. I mean I know of some traditions but I don’t really indulge in them either. I’ve actually never made a gingerbread house, but that’s a big thing that some people do around Christmas time.” You confessed.

“I’ve heard of gingerbread houses. Sounds like it could be… interesting I guess? Unfortunately I’m not much of a baker, not exactly an architect either.” Alecs laughter made your heart swell but you grinned at his response.

“Guys! Come on, you’re gonna miss watching the Grinch with us!” Sketchy called to you and Alec.

“Well, you heard him, Alec! Let’s go.” You smiled and you took his free hand before the two of you ended up sitting together on the floor to watch the movie together. It was the version of the Grinch with Jim Carrey and it happened to be one of your favorite Christmas movies.

“Have you ever seen this before?” You asked Alec and he shook his head before you grinned. You supposed he would have quite a few firsts the more he hung out with Max’s group.

You continued to watch the movie yet you couldn’t help but to wonder what else Alec had missed out on if he’s never heard of the mistletoe thing, never made a gingerbread house, or even seen the grinch. Then you wondered what exactly he had done.

Meanwhile Alec watched the movie for the first time and he could see why you liked it. It was actually pretty funny. Although it was kinda pathetic that an entire town bullied a kid into self isolation. What a shitty thing to do.

When he glanced down at you, he noticed that you seemed to be off in your own little world while you enjoyed the movie. He noticed that this is probably the happiest he’s seen you, surrounded by Christmas related activities and parties. Even at work you seemed to smile more.

Honestly, seeing you like this was uplifting in a way. It gave him a break from the shitty job he had or the memories of those past Christmases with missions he had to deal with. He wouldn’t mind if you taught him some traditions or even did some of those traditions with him.

He wondered what experiences you’ve had with the holiday growing up, it kind of made him wonder what he and so many other transgenics like him missed out on because of their upbringing.

On the flipped side, Max had been in the very same shoes that he was in, and now here she was hosting Christmas parties and having fun. He was excited to be out of that military base so he could experience all of these things too, really experience them without worrying about blowing some kind of cover he was under.

While he turned his attention back to the movie on the screen, he placed his arm around your shoulder, deciding to make a move now that he knew you didn’t have a boyfriend - a fact that still shocked him - and he could feel you relax beneath his touch. He grinned to himself the moment he felt your head on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, every year you felt like when you watch the Grinch, or any Christmas movie for that matter, the film got shorter and shorter. It felt like only thirty minutes had gone by and it was over. When the movie ended, some people said their goodbyes and decided to call it a night.

You decided to stay behind with Sketchy, Logan and Alec to help clean up the place so it wasn’t too much of a disaster to deal with the following morning.

You were in the kitchen washing some of the dishes so Max or Original Cindy wouldn’t worry about them, and while you were doing that Alec happened to come in with a trash bag full of cups and cans and other trash guests left behind.

“Can I ask you something?” You finally spoke.

“Yeah, shoot.”

“How come you’ve never talked to me before tonight?” You asked curiously. That question had been in your mind for a while, even before that night had even started, and you couldn’t help but wonder about it.

“Honestly, I dunno. You seem friendly and I know I’ve had different opportunities to talk. But I guess at work all we really get is a quick ‘hello’ before we go on our routes. Never had the time to have more of a conversation than just that.” He said.

And you supposed that could be a fair argument. It was rare that the two of you have had the same shifts. And when you saw each other any other time, it was like he said: if you two were to actually talk, you didn’t really get a word in before it was time to go on the routes. Normal was a little relentless with how he runs things at work.

“Yeah, I guess with Normal being up everyone’s ass it kind of makes it hard to have longer talks.” You said, but it still felt like he was holding the truth back - whatever his truth was. You wouldn’t push him though. Honestly you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what his truth was.

“Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.” You heard Alec say as you finished up with the dishes.

“Okay?”

“How come you didn’t have anyone to bring you to this thing?” He asked, causing you to lift a brow.

“Anyone meaning a boyfriend sort of anyone?” You laughed and he shrugged as he tied a knot in the trash bag so it could be taken out.

“Well, it could be any mixture of things I suppose. Maybe it could be because I haven’t really been talking to guys at work and caught their interest yet. Maybe it’s because a the one person I would have an interest in hasn’t asked me out yet. Maybe it’s just because I don’t quite get out much and my life is mostly between work and home.” You shrugged.

“A mixture of those, huh?” Alec chuckled.

“And since you brought that up, how come you didn’t have a girlfriend to come along with you? I mean you’re bound to be someone’s type.” You said with a teasing tone and a smirk, causing Alec to chuckle a little.

“Well, maybe I have the same predicament.” Alec said.

“Yeah right! That’s so not what I’ve heard. You have no problems talking to other girls, and how come you didn’t have a little arm candy?” You dried off your hands with one of the kitchen towels.

“Honestly? Felt like coming by myself tonight. Yeah I talk to different people but obviously that’s empty flirting and I can do that anywhere I want to. Just didn’t feel like it this time around I guess.” He replied and went to the sink, washing his hands to get whatever gunk was on the trash bag off his hands.

You hummed a little at the explanation, leaning your back against a random wall before you handed him the towel to dry off his hands and he thanked you for it.

“I’m glad you came, even if Max may have had to persuade you to come.” You admitted and he looked at you once more.

“It was actually pretty fun. I didn’t think she knew how to throw a party that was fun like this.” He commented and you rolled your eyes.

“You’d be surprised,” You grinned, “You two really are like siblings, huh?” Then he laughed.

“Sort of.” He said but then he noticed something about where you were standing.

“Well, we’ve established that couples kiss under a mistletoe, but you didn’t explain when a one person is beneath.” Alec commented and he watched you look up above you just to see the plant above your head. Then he saw the way your cheeks seemed to flush in color.

“Well… you’re a smart guy. I’m sure you can figure it out without needing someone to explain it.” He heard you say and he smiled a little before he tossed the hand towel onto the counter next to the dishes before he carefully walked towards you.

“Well, I can’t keep a damsel like you waiting alone, now can I?” He said as he carefully placed a hand on you hip. You could tell that he was being cautious and trying to give you the opportunity to push him away if this wasn’t what you wanted.

A sweet gesture, really, but how dumb could he be to think you didn’t want this? And how dumb could you be to push him away?

“I suppose it wouldn’t be that heroic of you to keep one waiting beneath mistletoe.” You chuckled and one of your hands found a spot on his shoulder.

Then, he carefully leaned down and placed a soft and quick kiss on the corner of your mouth, as if he were trying to be a tease about it. You weren’t surprised that he would be a bit of a tease.

When you moved your hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, however, he looked down at you for a moment before he smirked slightly. Then he leaned down and kissed your lips and lingered this time.

You knew that this wasn’t anticipated, and honestly you didn’t think you would be standing beneath mistletoe and kissing a man you had barely spoken to, but Alec took your breath away with his kiss. This kiss was different than you had expected from him; surprisingly sweet and gentle and he handled you with care.

His lips were a little chapped but they were warm and soft nonetheless. It took you by surprise when you felt his other hand cup your face but the moment that he did it felt like it was just the two of you. You had honestly forgotten that you weren’t even in your own home.

Then, the kiss ended too soon for your liking but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever, even though you would have loved to stay like that with Alec.

“Wow…”You whispered breathlessly and Alec grinned, noticing your cheeks were redder than before.

“It’s about damned time you two did something!” Original Cindy’s voice broke through the atmosphere between you and Alec.

You and Alec both glanced over and noticed that you had a little audience, consisting of Cindy, Max, Alex and Sketchy.

“How long were you guys standing there watching?” You asked with a chuckle.

“Long enough to know that if something doesn’t happen between you two after tonight, I’ll be sorely disappointed.” Cindy said.

“Same here. Alec, you had better take care of my girl, Y/N, otherwise I’ll be kicking your ass straight to the moon.” Max said with a playful smirk as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Wait, you two have been waiting for something like this to happen?” You laughed.

“Waiting? More like manifesting. Max has told me about you two and what she’s hoped to happen.” Logan said with a little chuckle as he adjusted his glasses.

“Awe, so you do think of me outside of work.” Alec teased and Max rolled her eyes and shook her head, smirking.

“Yeah, whatever. Now would you guys get out of here? Cindy and I will finish up with the cleaning.” Max said.

“Personally, I’m wiped. I’ll see y’all around. Thanks for the party, guys. That was great.” Sketchy said with a smile and he held up a peace sign before he walked out of the door.

“I’ll stay and help you finish up.” Logan insisted, but that wasn’t too much of a surprise there.

Then Alec looked down at you for a moment, “You want me to walk you home?”

You smiled up at him, “I’d like that. Maybe on the way we can talk about more of those traditions. I’ll even look into getting some gingerbread houses or something.”

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.” Alec said and he held your hand before the two of you walked out of the apartment.

Never in a million years did Alec think he would be in a place where he would be kissing a girl under mistletoe, or even talk about something like building gingerbread houses. But he knew that this year would be different and he couldn’t be more excited to what this season held for him now that you were there.

Hello everyone! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! This will be the first of hopefully a plethora of holiday themed one shots and I ok forward to sharing them with you! Wishing you all the best~

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles dark angel #dark angel #alec x reader #alec imagine #alec mcdowell #Alec mcdowell x reader #dark angel one shots #Alec x5494 #x5494 #dark angel Jensen #spnfandom #spn family #jensen ackles x reader #daughterofcain67 holiday writing

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meganslife · 10 months ago

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Pen pals - p. parker

TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! reader

summary: peter parker is your pen pal.

warnings: none so far!!!

hello helloooo!!! i had this idea because i myself have a pen pal, and it’s honestly really fun and reminds me of peter. this will be multiple parts!! anyhoo, happy reading!

Having a pen pal was fun. It gave you something to look forward to whenever you needed to open the mailbox. It was nice, although your lovely pen pal, Peter, was on the other side of the country. You were in Seattle. He was in Queens, New York. It was a nice arrangement that you two had. No phone numbers, just handwritten letters, and cute little pictures.

When you opened your apartment mailbox and saw that you had a letter from Peter, your heart felt warm. It was the warmest you’ve felt in a while.

Y/N,

My apologies for not writing you back sooner. School is kicking my butt recently, and I moved back in with May (hence why a new address is on the envelope). My old roommate went BALLISTIC on me for little things, so I decided I needed to leave. May is a better person to have around, anyway.

The fall semester ended last week, and I wish I could say that I passed my finals. My professors are just mean, I think. I’ve been super stressed out lately, and writing this letter is helping me. You’re my savior. Also, the pictures you sent me of you in Tennessee are amazing. You should be a model! I’m sure you hear that a lot because of how pretty you are;)

I hope it’s not too cold in Seattle. I took some pictures of random things I thought you’d like, maybe that’ll distract you from how cold it is. I know how much you hate the cold. (You chose the wrong place to live!)

Anyhoo, I’m sorry this letter is short. My wrist is cramping up and May needs help with dinner. Write back as soon as you can.

Much love,

Peter ♥

Photo one: Peter in an obnoxiously large New Year’s Eve hat, grinning from ear to ear with his friend(?)

Photo two: A Polaroid of stray cats bonding in what you assume is Peter’s front yard.

Photo three: A Polaroid of Peter that was clearly taken by May. Peter is holding a tray of muffins, and he looks really stupid in his apron.

You get to writing him a letter right away.

Dear Peter,

I love the pictures. I’ll add them to my growing collection on my wall:)

My day has been so shitty. I wish you were here. It gets lonely, sometimes. I have friends, I’ve told you very little about them. They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but living alone is just lonely. Maybe I should get a cat or something. I need something to come home to. (Sorry for making this portion of the letter sad. I just needed someone to talk to.)

The weather in Queens looks nice. You’re awfully lucky, Peter. It’s cold and slushy here. I’m cold to the bone. Like, nothing will warm me up. It’s annoying. I just want it to be summer again. I hate being pale and cold.

I don’t have any pictures as of right now, so I’m sorry about that. I have some drawings I could give you.

My letter is short too, so I guess we’re even. I need to nap the sadness away.

Cold and loving,

Y/N ♥

The next letter you receive from Peter is about a week later.

My dearest Y/N,

I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.

I know we said we wouldn’t exchange phone numbers, and I respect that, but I just need to give you mine. I need to. Just in case. I don’t want you to be sad and lonely and have to wait for my letters to come. I like you. I like you A LOT– And I honestly want to meet you in person but that’s a conversation for another day. I’ve been saving up for it. Maybe you should come during the spring? You’d love it here, I know it. Or I could come to you? Whatever, we can talk about it more over the phone.

My phone number:

(718)-XXX-XXXX

Call me;)

Love always,

Peter ♥

You immediately spring up to your feet and grab your phone. Your hands were shaking as you dialed the number and called it, praying he wouldn’t think it was a spam call.

“Pete?” You ask, voice higher than you meant it to be.

Boyish laughter erupts on the other end of the line, and you already know that it’s Peter. Of course, his laugh would sound so sweet.

“Hi, lovie.”

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dameronscopilot · 2 years ago

Text

Stay

Kayce Dutton x f!reader

Summary: When a downtrodden Kayce arrives on your doorstep at nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve and shares unexpected news, reigning in the feelings you’ve harbored for him for years becomes exceedingly difficult.

Word Count: 3.1k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Prompt: New Year's Eve kiss (dedicated to @villainvindicator 💖)

Content: NSFW, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, fingering, unprotected p in v (very brief mention of domestic abuse without details)

DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST

You’re nearly on the cusp of sleep when the sound of tires crunching along your gravel driveway rouses you from where you’re curled up on the couch. Stealing a glance at the clock on the wall, and you peer out the blinds, eyes widening a fraction when you spot a familiar red and white pick up truck pulling up beside your car.

The throw blanket pooled around your waist slips to the floor when you stand, striding across the room and opening your front door to find none other than Kayce Dutton standing there with his fist raised, on the verge of knocking. He lets his arm drop back down to his side.

“Well this is a surprise. I haven’t heard from you in months, Kayce. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask him casually as you step aside, gesturing for him to come in.

There’s no real weight to your words—you’re well aware Kayce has his work cut out for him between his own family baggage, on top of being a husband and a father. And you’ve been friends long enough that the lapse in time doesn’t make a difference, the two of you always find your way back to each other one way or another. But you can’t help but wonder what’s brought him to your doorstep this late on New Year’s Eve, of all nights.

He steps inside and takes off his hat, placing it on the hook beside the door, and it’s only then that you catch the downtrodden expression on his face that had been obscured by the shadows on your front porch. He reaches up, running a hand through his hair, the gesture drawing further attention to the prominent dark circles under his eyes.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve called, huh? I wasn’t thinkin’. Was just out for a drive and thought I’d stop in, I guess. I can go if you’re busy, though…” he trails off, hands tucked away in the pockets of his jacket.

Gesturing toward your faded t-shirt, sleep shorts, and the thick wool socks on your feet, you shake your head with a rueful smile. “If falling asleep on the couch watching a bad movie counts as busy, you’re more than welcome to interrupt.”

The corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly. “No New Year’s party for you?”

You snort, reaching out to take his jacket from him before he begins to take off his boots. “Who said this isn’t a party?”

Kayce chuckles, and it’s a rich, pleasant sound that flutters down your spine, settling deep in your gut with a warmth that leaves your insides tingling. You’re well past denying the effect he has on you.

He follows you into the living room, settling down beside you on the couch as you tuck your legs up under your body. Turning down the volume on the television, you glance over at him to find a far off look in his eyes as he glances around the room. His gaze slows when it begins to sweep over the collection of framed photographs adorning your mantle.

“Did you break up with Travis?”

You try not to look too far into the way he’d quickly picked up on the purge of any and all photographs including your boyfriend of three years, which had been strewn about the room up until two months ago.

“Back in October.”

He furrows his brows. “You didn’t tell me. I’m sorry to hear that.”

You laugh, a disbelieving look on your face. “No you’re not. He was an asshole.”

He trails a finger over a stray thread hanging from the edge of the knitted blanket draped over the back of the back of the couch. “Yeah, I’m really not. Well what happened?”

“We got into it again over how he wanted to move to Seattle, but as you know, I’ll sell my parents’ farm over my dead body. He was drunk though, and he got a little physical…” you trail off, stomach churning at the memory.

Kayce freezes, posture stiffening, and he growls, “Where the fuck is he?”

You reach out, placing a hand on his knee and squeezing. “I’m fine, Kayce. I promise. It’s handled, and he’s long gone now.”

He runs a hand over his beard. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Choosing your next words carefully, you reply, “You…had a lot going on with Monica, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” Kayce parrots, dumbfounded. “You know I’d drop everything for you, especially if it meant finally having an excuse to kick his stupid ass.”

The conviction in his words makes your chest ache, because you know he means it. You shake your head, smiling weakly. “You were just counting down the days till you’d finally have a chance to do that, huh?”

He sighs, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. You know he fucking hated Travis. “Yep.”

In an attempt to change the subject, you segue, “So now that we’re caught up on my life’s current events, care to tell me why you’re really here?”

He bites his lip. “Can’t a guy just stop in and visit?��

You offer him an unimpressed look. “At almost midnight on New Year’s Eve?”

Covering his mouth with his fingers, he takes a deep breath. It’s then that you notice the ring finger on his left hand is noticeably bare, and you’re almost ashamed of the feeling that flares within you at the sight. He catches the way your gaze flicks to the spot, and he leans backward heavily.

“I can’t do this anymore with Monica. I’m so goddamn tired.”

“Are you…” you begin to ask.

“Done? Yeah. She can’t make up her damn mind, and she keeps draggin’ me along. So I decided for her,” he sighs, fingers reaching out to twist the ring that’s no longer on his finger. “She has Tate tonight, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I hopped in my truck and kind of just ended up coming here on instinct, I guess.”

In that moment, you know you’re both thinking back to all the times you rang in the new year together as teenagers, dashing across your parents’ backyard with sparklers in your hands while you waited for the countdown on the small portable radio sitting perched on the stairs to the back porch.

“I’m sorry. You know that you’re always welcome here,” you finally say after a few beats of silence.

“‘m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I miss you,” he laments.

“I missed you, too, Kayce.”

Kayce goes quiet again for a moment, until he eventually mumbles, “I just…don’t understand why I ain’t good enough.” He scratches the back of his head, letting out a huff of air. “I mean, I guess I know why—I’ve got too much fuckin’ baggage.”

Something in your chest clenches at the painful resignation in his voice, the undertone of self-loathing that lingers in his words. You’ve spent years biting your tongue throughout Kayce’s struggles in his marriage, but now, you can’t be bothered to hold them back.

“You’re not the problem Kayce, you never were. You just love her too much to see that.”

A reluctant smile tugs at his lips as he echoes your sentiment. “You’ve been counting down the days till you could say that, huh?”

Counting down is a goddamn understatement.

“You have such a big heart. You deserve better,” you tell him.

His expression softens minutely, and he considers your words, not breaking eye contact with you when he finally responds. “I think I loved the idea of her and what we had.”

The sadness in Kayce’s tone makes you want to crawl across the cushions toward him, to show him what exactly you think he deserves. But it’s certainly not the time. And it’s not your damn place, either. It never has been.

It never will be.

No matter how badly you may want it to.

Perhaps, if you’d been brave enough to tell him how you felt when you were younger, the unrequited, awkward feelings would have faded with time—something to be blamed on teenage hormones and the fleeting crushes they incite, ones that burn hard and fast, disintegrating quickly like a shooting star.

If you told him now, there’d be no turning back. No shelter to weather the irrevocable damage it would do to your friendship, the devastating chasm it would split open between the two of you.

Because the way you feel about Kayce Dutton is anything but fleeting.

Your phone screen lights up beside you, and you glance down to check the time. Standing up, you gesture for Kayce to follow you into the kitchen. You hop up onto the counter, reaching over to turn on the radio that’s mounted to the bottom of one of the cabinets and fiddling with the dial until the station you’re searching for comes in.

“For old time’s sake,” you grin as an announcer on the radio announces that it’s three minutes to midnight.

Kayce mirrors your expression with a genuine smile of his own, and you’re both quiet as you listen, the only other sound coming from your socked feet bumping into the cabinet below as you mindlessly swing your legs. With your gaze trained on the green digits lit up across the front of the radio, 11:59, you don’t realize that Kayce’s moved until you feel something bump into your knees.

He stands in front of you, the blue denim of his jeans brushing against your bare knees, and you go still, heels pressed firmly against the handle of the cabinet. You can hardly hear the sound of the 10-second countdown beginning over the blood rushing in your ears when he leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“For old time’s sake,” he repeats, laughing weakly and rocking back slightly on his heels as he pulls away. It’s a friendly kiss, you tell yourself, mirroring the ones from your childhood.

5…4…3…

You stare at him, lips parted slightly, fingers tightly gripping the edges of the counter. He takes a deep breath, one hand flexing at his side.

2…

“Kayce,” you breathe out, hardly above a whisper.

The sounds of celebration begin to erupt from the radio’s crackling speakers, and he surges forward, cupping your face in both of his hands, his lips crashing into yours.

Kayce’s mouth moves against your own with purpose as he slots himself between your legs, one hand shifting to cup the back of your head as he strokes the curve of your jaw with the thumb of his other. The scrape of his facial hair against your skin while he kisses you is a welcome sensation, one that you’ve imagined time and time again. You reach up, running a hand through his hair, and a soft sound leaves his mouth as his hand drops down to rest against your lower back, pulling you against his solid body.

His fingertips brush against your skin where your shirt has ridden up, and you shiver at the sensation—the contrast between the feeling of his hands, rough from years of working the farm, and the gentle way he touches you with them. You cross your ankles behind Kayce, pulling him even closer, and his hand trails along your back to firmly grip at your side. His other hand slides across the top of your thigh, and he hooks it under your knee, lifting your leg.

You scoot closer to the edge of the counter and spread your legs wider for him, and heat spreads under your skin at the feeling of his erection straining at the front of his jeans, now pressed against your mound.

Kayce’s lips slow down, pausing in their endeavor to further consume your mouth in the wildfire they’ve started. He presses another kiss to your bottom lip before leaning his forehead against yours, and you lay a hand against his chest, fingertips curling into the pocket at the front of his flannel shirt as his heart beats wildly beneath your palm; the erratic rhythm matches your own.

Breathing hard, his voice is rough when he speaks, “Sorry.”

You take one of his hands into your own, lacing your fingers together, a weak laugh escaping your lips. “That’s definitely not something you need to say sorry for.”

Reaching up, you thread your fingers into the hair at the back of his head and press your body into the warmth of his again. He groans, grasping the side of your thigh.

“Tell me what you want then,” he drawls, and fire licks in the pit of your belly as his lips ghost over yours.

“You, Kayce. It’s always been you,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth.

There’s a hitch in his breath, and his hand slides up to grasp your hip, fingers skirting underneath your shirt. There’s a shift in the air between you as he huskily replies, “Wish I’d known that sooner.”

You pull away just enough to look at him, his brown eyes alight with emotion. “Well, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He chases after your lips again, and there’s urgency in the way his mouth seeks out yours in a bruising, all-consuming kiss that finds you arching your back into his scorching touch. You tighten your legs around Kayce, a whine crawling up your throat as the seam of his jeans presses firmly against the thin material of your shorts, rubbing against your hot center. You rock your hips into him, and Kayce moans, so you do it again, but harder.

“Fuck,” he rasps.

You can tell he’s holding himself back, his kisses growing sloppy as his fingers dig into your skin.

“Touch me, Kayce,” you plead.

He doesn’t hesitate, hands sliding up under your shirt, an appreciative sound leaving him when his palms make contact with your bare breasts. He licks his way into your mouth as he teases your pebbled nipples, relishing in the breathy noises you offer him in return. You reach down, shrugging off your shirt, and Kayce’s lips blaze a hot trail down the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down the center of your chest, palming your breasts in his hands while lavishing them with the wet heat of his mouth.

Nerves on fire, you reach out, fumbling with the buttons of his flannel, and he pauses to help you, tugging it off along with his black t-shirt underneath. Your hands skate across his chest, and he closes his eyes as you press a tender kiss to the brand seared into his skin before letting your lips trail toward his collarbone.

Kayce’s fingers caress the inside of your legs, climbing higher toward the apex of your thighs. He slides his hand inside the loose material of your shorts, and you bite down on his skin as he runs a finger over your clothed cunt.

“What about here?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“Please.”

Kayce hooks a finger in your panties, pulling them aside, and a groan rumbles in his chest when he swipes two digits through your dripping folds. He uses his other hand to tilt your chin, kissing you hard as he slips his middle finger into your soaked entrance.

You moan into the kiss, bucking your hips toward his touch, and he sounds more than a little wrecked as he mutters, “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ wet.”

He inserts another finger and slowly begins to pump them both in and out of you while you reach out, hands quickly working their way past his belt to free his throbbing cock from the confines of his jeans. Kayce takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down as you wrap your hand around his length and stroke it, drawing a wanton cry from your mouth as he crooks his fingers inside of you in turn.

You lift your feet up, heels resting against the lip of the countertop, and Kayce takes hold of his shaft, precum leaking from the tip. He swipes the head through your slick folds, notching it at your entrance, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he slowly begins to sink into you.

His mouth hovers over yours, both of you breathing heavily as his cock is steadily engulfed within the tight, wet heat of your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, neither of you moves for a few moments, content to revel in the feeling of the way he feels nestled deep inside of you, stretching you open.

When Kayce finally begins to shift, your body ignites with searing pleasure at the delicious drag of his cock through your narrow channel, his name falling from your lips repeatedly as he fervently kisses your neck while one hand toys with your nipples. Tension coils tighter and tighter in your gut with every thrust, your folds squelching wetly each time his cock disappears into your body. He laps a broad stroke with his tongue just underneath the hinge of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin as your pussy clenches down on him.

The ache between your thighs spreads rapidly through your limbs, and you chase after Kayce’s lips for a needy, desperate kiss as you whine, “Kayce, I’m gonna—”

He grasps the side of your neck, his free hand drifting between your bodies, fingers seeking out the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.

“Come for me,” he murmurs before kissing you deeply, rubbing circles into your swollen clit.

The pressure building inside of you explodes, and Kayce swallows down the strangled noises that pour out of you as you shudder, coming entirely undone with the force of your climax. He fucks you through each electric wave of pleasure, your limbs trembling as his cock continues to stroke your sensitive inner walls.

Your fingers dig into Kayce’s back while his hips begin to stutter, and he moans your name when he plunges inside of you one last time before pulling out, stroking himself as ropes of cum spill from his cock and onto the kitchen floor below.

As the last of his seed drips out, you reach out, tugging Kayce back into your arms, bringing your lips to his. You can feel him smile against your mouth, and he breaks the kiss, peppering more of them across the planes of your face.

“Will you stay tonight?” you ask him quietly, your heartbeat quickening at the uncertainty of what his answer may be.

Kayce grasps the underside of your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him again as your arms encircle his neck, and he lifts you up off of the counter.

Nose brushing against yours affectionately, he murmurs as he makes his way toward the stairs that lead to your bedroom, “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

—

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