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harrysdaydreams · 1 year

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Unsatiated

Summary- Reader finds herself in a low place and has shut out the one person she should know wants to help more than anything. Harry is more than happy to take care of her regardless, which leads to revelations on both parts

Slight angst that ends with fluff that turns suggestive

-Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.

He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.

His fingers are soft and careful with your strands, and his use of the brush is even gentler, taking his time to properly ensure every piece of hair is free from knots. The delicate touch of his fingers brushing the back of your neck causes you to let out a gentle sigh, and you unintentionally sink back into his touch.

Word count- 4.3k

Tuesday. Even the word itself sounded mundane and miserable. Throw in some grey skies accompanied by pouring rain, it was a recipe for a shitty day.

Normally you’d crack open a window, light a candle and bask in the fresh sounds of the raindrops hitting the floor of the balcony to your flat.

But it was more than a bad day- the past week you’d been feeling at your lowest, with no real pinpoint as to why. It was hard to find motivation for anything, cooking a nice meal, going outside, reaching out to your friends- several who had messages in your phone left unread- it all just seemed too much.

So here you lay in bed at 1pm, the same place you’d been all day, minus bathroom trips and the tremendous effort it had seemed to have taken to make some instant noodles that still sat on your nightstand uneaten.

You turn over onto your front and sigh into your pillow, having lost count of how many times you’d done the same thing all morning.

Why did everything feel so heavy? This isn’t how you usually responded to feeling low, always opting for surrounding yourself with the people you knew could lift you out of any place, no matter the situation.

Being with people now was the last thing you wanted, especially in your home, with piles of laundry waiting to be washed and dishes to be cleaned.

Uncomfortable on your front, you opt to turn back onto your side, reaching for your phone on the nightstand with the intention of putting on some music to drown out the rain. Hopefully you’d find something that could pull you out of your mood- that or something that further fuelled your angsty state and could maybe push you to finally release the pent-up tears you were too frustrated to shed.

As you scroll through your playlists contemplating what tone to set as you continue rotting in bed for the rest of the day, a text notification pops at the top of your phone.

Harry.

You assume he’s probably double texting you with some sort of snarky message for not replying to your beloved best friend for over two days. Your heart sinks a little as you think of him, his contagious smile and warm personality.

You miss him, and thinking of him is enough to momentarily make you smile as you pull down the notification to read the contents of his message.

Harry- You really gonna leave all four of my messages on delivered? I’m hurt Bitsy, deeply hurt.

You smile at his obvious sarcasm and the stupid nickname he came up with 4 years ago after finding out you were exactly one year, one month and one day apart in age, him being the eldest. He played on the fact that you’re younger than him and ran away with it completely, always making jokes of how small and ‘young’ you are.

Another text notification brings you back from your reminiscing, a new message directly under the one you’d just read.

Harry- Really though, are you ok? The radio silence isn’t normal for you.

Your heart sinks again and you feel bad for leaving your closest friend worrying about you.

Harry- Usually I have to mute our text thread just for some peace..

For the first time in days, you laugh out loud, a genuine smile spreading on your face that crinkles the corner of your eyes.

You- Uhh, RUDE!

Harry- Ahhh she lives!

Fuck, the way he can change your sour demeanour in just a few short messages. You instantly feel stupid for shutting everyone out, especially him.

You- Alive and kickin’! Specifically, your ass for being so rude. I’m okay though, promise old man. Sorry if I made you worry!

Harry- I’ll await my ass kicking whilst shaking in fear. Miss you though. Want me to come over? We missed pizza night on Sunday because someone... lost her phone? Fell off the face of the earth?

The suggestion of him coming over fills you with dread and takes away all of the momentary relief and lift in mood you’d felt just from texting with him.

You could pretend you were okay to a degree over text, but if he came over, he’d take one look at you, or around your flat and know something was wrong. And you wouldn’t even be able to give him a definitive answer why.

You tap the back of your phone with your nails anxiously trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him worry more, seeing as you rarely turned down an opportunity to hang out together.

You- Miss you too, H. Raincheck? I feel a migraine coming on. Love you!

Harry- Love you too, Bitsy. Feel better

Feeling guilty, you lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand and try to ignore the new ache in your chest.

Despite your efforts, you scrunch your eyes closed and finally feel the hot sting of tears trail slowly down your cheeks.

You feel terrible for lying to your closest friend, the catalyst to finally unleashing the breakdown that had been sitting inside of you for the past few days as nothing but frustration and restlessness.

Now though, full blown sobs wreck your body as you hug your pillow whilst simultaneously burying your face into it, muffling the sound of your whimpering. You lay like that for a while, your chest rising and falling with every whine and sorry moan.

Finally, you take a series of deep inhales and long exhales to steady your breathing in a vain attempt to calm down.

What the fuck is wrong with me? you think as you wipe the leftover tears from your cheeks, sitting up against the headboard of your bed.

You take a long sip of water from your nightstand to wash away the disgusting taste left in your mouth from your dramatic sobbing.

The ache in your chest feels duller and somewhat lighter after releasing the supressed tears that had previously left you feeling so suffocated.

Now though, the lesser anguish in your chest brings your attention to a new source of pain in your neck, and you curse yourself mentally for laying in bed all day to the point it resulted in making your body sore.

After giving in to the fact you really should move, you stretch your arms above your head and then lift away the duvet from your body, swinging your legs over the side of the bed to sit up properly before sliding on your slippers sat on the floor beside you.

As you go to stand up, you hear a key in the lock of your door and your heart jumps into your throat. You listen for moment longer as the hairs on the back of your neck stand up before realisation dawns on you.

“That fucker!” you whisper, discarding your slippers and leaping back under the duvet to feign being asleep.

Harry was the only person you’d ever given a spare key, so you could only assume his kind natured, stupid, perfect self, had gone out to buy you supplies to get you through your migraine and come to check on you. You should have known better than to lie to him about being sick.

The sound of the door softly closing tells you he’s now inside the flat, followed by him gently calling out your name. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter as your heart beats fast in your chest, trying helplessly to ignore your panic and relax your body in the hope to pass off as being genuinely asleep.

He knocks lightly on your bedroom door which is already propped open with a doorstop, and you hear the rustling of a bag that must contain the supplies he so thoughtfully brought to you. Your eyes sting with tears again, why does he have to be so good?

“Hey love, I’ve brought you some strong ass painkillers and some anti-sickness tablets. How are you feeling?” he asks in a quiet voice; you can detect concern in his tone and that alone makes you want to cry all over again.

You’re in half a mind to ignore him and pretend you’re in a deep sleep so he’ll leave but with the knowledge that he’s right there... that he’s in reach and he could hold you… maybe he could make it okay.

You breathe a shaky sigh and reluctantly open your eyes and sit up, sliding back against the headboard again as you look at him, a new kind of concern immediately washing over his features.

He rushes over to perch on the bed beside you, his pretty face painted with worry as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’ve been crying... is it that bad? Or...” he trails off, looking between your red, puffy eyes as if doing so would decode what was wrong. “Love, what is it? Talk to me”

He can see through your lie now, something you never do, which fills his own heart with heaviness. Ignoring the sting of knowing you lied to him, he awaits your answer, knowing not to press you if something was so wrong to the point you felt the need to mislead him.

So, he doesn’t prompt and push, instead he rubs your shoulder softly as he waits for a reply, his soft green eyes on yours, hopeful you’ll meet his gaze.

“M’not good, Har” you reply shakily, biting your lip to keep it from quivering because the last thing you wanted was to become a sobbing mess in front of him. You shake your head as you continue to look down, more damned tears dropping into your lap despite you willing them to stay away, your finger now absently trailing the wet droplets they leave on your leg.

“Hey, hey look at me.. look at me” he soothes gently, both of his hands now on your shoulders urging you to lift your head to meet his gaze again. You do so reluctantly, and he lifts one hand to cup your face and brush away the hot tears on your cheek.

He offers you a pained smile, one that clearly shows his care for you, but the warmth in his eyes as he scans over your face pushes you to wrap your arms around him, gentle sobs immediately leaving your body again.

He pulls you gladly into a tight hug as his hand reaches up to the back of your head and moves in soft strokes over your hair as you breathe in the scent that is so Harry, so... home.

His eyebrows knit together in response to the twist in his heart upon hearing you cry, feeling your body shake softly as the tears escape. He continues his soft stroking to the back of your head, wanting so badly to take whatever it is away, to make everything better.

“Shhh, I got you. M’not going anywhere. I got you” he soothes, squeezing his own eyes shut to try pull himself together so he can be there for you how you need him. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, his voice soft in your ear and his hold on you still tight.

You shake your head as much as you can in his vice like grip.

“Wouldn’t even know what to say. Truly. I don’t know why I’m in such a rut.” you say honestly between sniffles. That was the most frustrating thing about the past week. There was no trigger, no cause.

Foolishly you shut yourself away, the answer to your problem being so obvious now you were in his company- in his arms. Your eyes prick again at the thought, that dull throb in your chest again making itself present.

“Feel better because you’re with me though- I shouldn’t have lied to you- I should’ve let you- shouldn’t have told you- I-” your rambling is cut off by Harry quietly shushing you and resuming his careful stroking of your hair. God, how does he make everything okay?

“Shh, I get it, s’okay… it’s okay. I got you, yeah? M’right here, always right here” he coos in your ear, and you nod your head fervently because of course you know.

Right here felt like the only place on earth. The best place on earth.

You both remain in silence like that for a while longer until Harry slowly pulls himself away from you, leaning back but keeping his hand firmly on your thigh, making a point of keeping some physical contact with you.

At last, you finally look at him properly, smiling awkwardly, a smile that he returns with that boyish, one-sided smirk of his that you’ve grown to love so much.

The comfortable silence between you both is complimented by the rain still hammering down outside.

You turn your head to glance out of the window at the thick droplets bouncing off the glass, then turn back to Harry, who has an amused expression on his face.

He’s the one giving you an awkward smile now, to which you return a puzzled look.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

He brings his hand up to cover his smile, which is growing bigger by the second. He’s clearly trying not to laugh, but refusing to let you in on the joke, so you poke his ribs to further prompt him to answer.

“S’nothing” he laughs, to which you raise an eyebrow disbelievingly, causing him to laugh again.

You cross your arms whilst feigning an annoyed look, stubbornly waiting for him to kindly share whatever it is that he’s seemingly finding so funny.

“It’s just uhh, when- when was the last time you brushed your hair?” he asks sheepishly, clearly not wanting to embarrass you but finding your lack of effort appearance wise humorous.

Your hand instantly lifts to the messy bun that had initially been propped on the top of your head two days ago. By now it was hanging low at the back of your head, probably a matted mess.

You groan and hit him softly with the pillow behind you, and he raises his arms to defend himself, resuming his laughter as a reluctant smile makes its way onto your face.

“I mean, you look great, but uhh, hairbrushes… great inventions” he taunts, but you can hear his smile so clearly in his voice that it sends warmth through your chest.

“Funny.” you quip, kicking his knee with your socked foot. “please, continue making fun of my misery” you joke, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay, I take it back” he laughs musically, and you purse your lips in a bashful pout, eyeing him fondly as he readjusts his position on the bed to sit cross legged in front of you.

The comfortable silence resumes, Harrys fingers absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles at your ankle.

“Seriously though, want me to brush your hair?” he asks, your heart fluttering at the gesture.

Honestly, the idea of having to brush your hair over the past two days was a task that had seemed entirely overwhelming, hence the state of your bun. And now that it was probably a matted mess, it was a job you were happy to give to someone else- someone who seemed to understand entirely instead of sitting here judging you.

You look down at your hands in your lap, half embarrassed before nodding your head.

“If you don’t mind.. thank you, H” you reply, giving him a grateful smile.

He returns it knowingly, standing to grab the hairbrush from your vanity and sitting back down. He motions with his hand for you to turn around with your back to him, which you do so obediently, feeling pre-emptively better knowing one basic self-care need was being taken care of.

Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.

He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.

By the time Harry has completely detangled your hair you’re pressed flush against his back, not noticing he’d finished as he continues to stroke and run his hands through your hair. He observes you warmly, noting how your eyes have softly closed and your breathing has shallowed.

As much as Harry was loving the entire situation, mainly the fact he’d seemingly managed to calm you down and help you relax, his legs were going numb as hell and he needed to move you from your position that had you practically seated in his lap.

With a small squeeze to your shoulder, he breathes gently in your ear “M’done love. All done.”

You open your eyes, not even realising they’d closed, running your hand through your hair and revelling in how soft the stands now felt. You move away from Harry rather reluctantly, turning back to face him as he stands up from the bed.

“Thank you, Har. I- honestly I feel so much better, really.. thank you” you smile gratefully, your heart warm in your chest and full of such tenderness for your best friend.

You would never get over how truly wonderful he is.

“S’nothing, promise. I like helping you relax. Makes me feel good too” he confesses, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You both exchange a look of fondness for each other, your eyes locking for an extended period of time. The exchange is warm, with a weight that is full of unsaid things but it’s also a look that needs no words- you both have a profound care for each other, that much has always been clear, but the longer you’re looking at him, the more your own gaze becomes one of longing.

Harry notices it too, his own eyes seeming to look deeper into yours as the warmth in them turns to something more heated.

You see it, you feel it, its thick in the air and you have to look away.

In return, Harry drops his eyes from your face and clears his throat as he fumbles with the hairbrush still in his hand.

He reaches to put it on the nightstand next to your forgotten pot of instant noodles which he picks up with a sigh. The mood instantly shifts back into one of playful friendliness as he holds them out to you with one eyebrow raised.

“This is what you’ve been eating?” he asks. “or not eating I should say. No wonder you’re so depressed” he jokes before walking out of the bedroom and into the open plan kitchen-living room, instant noodles in hand.

With him out of the room you place your head in your hands trying to calm down your thoughts and steady your heart rate. When did it start beating so quickly?

You’re brought out of your thoughts before you can even begin to overthink the look you’d both shared by the sound of the tap running from the bathroom down the hall from your room.

You step out of your bed and walk towards the source of the noise and are greeted by the sight of Harry running you a bath.

He notices you standing in the doorway and gives you a soft smile before walking over to you and gripping the sides of your arms gently.

“I’m gonna go get some real food while you take a bath, okay? I wont be long” he promises, pressing a parting kiss to your cheek before leaving, your heart quickening and heat rushing to your face.

You watch after him mindlessly, your fingers lifting to the spot he’d just kissed so casually, the feeling of his lips still lingering beneath your touch.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, your hearing dulled, and sense of touch heightened, before a panicked instinct to check the running taps pulls you from your yearning trance.

You turn them off quickly, before removing your clothing and sinking into the soothing warmth of the water and willing it to wash you of these muddled feelings and flustered responses to Harry’s demeanour and affections.

You urge yourself not to overthink his kiss to your cheek, remembering all the times he’d kissed the top of your head whilst hugging you goodbye, usually always followed with some kind of joke about how he can only reach the top of your head so easily because you’re so much smaller than him.

“See ya later Bitsy” you recall his voice and think of how most of those situations ended. Warm but only friendly.

You sink beneath the water to wet your hair, dragging your hands over your face to wash away the grime from your face and along with it any thoughts of Harrys kiss being anything more than a friendly parting.

What you refuse to fully acknowledge is the way your heart leaps at the idea of it being more.

You finish bathing, before wrapping yourself in a towel, feeling so much better for being forced into taking care of yourself.

By the time you’re dressed in a fresh set of pyjama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you leave your room to see Harry dishing up the food he left to retrieve.

He looks up from portioning a steaming bowl of ramen and gives you a warm, happy smile.

“You look like you’re feeling a little better?” he asks hopefully, to which you nod, returning his smile shyly.

“Much better, thank you. Mmmh, food smells amazing.” You sigh, reaching to grab the bowl he holds out for you before sitting side by side on the sofa.

You eat together in a relaxed silence, one that offers tender glances at each other and periodic laughs as you both try hopelessly to eat ramen noodles gracefully.

Harry finishes first, and you follow not far behind him before setting your bowl on the coffee table in front of you both.

You feel his eyes, on you but can’t force yourself to move your eyes from your hands in your lap. The silence suddenly feels heavy, you don’t even have to look at him to know his stare holds so much weight.

Its impossible to ignore. You feel it.

Your stomach is fluttering under his gaze and your mind is racing.

In an attempt to take the newly tense and awkward edge out of the silence that had now settled, you clear your throat, but it only draws attention to the tension that hangs thick in the air between you both.

You chance a look at him, his green eyes fixed on you with an expression you can’t read.

“Stop it” you whisper, not chancing your voice cracking.

His face is soft, but his brow is tense, his eye contact unwavering.

“Stop what?” he speaks softly.

You inhale slowly, your eyes closing before releasing a shaky exhale.

“Stop looking at me like that. I don’t know what it means” you say.

He leans closer, only slightly, but the growing intimacy of your proximity is enough to quicken your heart rate all over again.

“Looking at you like what, love?” he feigns innocence, his expression still just as achingly warm.

You can barely bring yourself to answer, still trying to convince yourself you must be misreading the entire situation, that he can’t be looking at you with this intense desire, so gently, so.. so..

“Longingly...” you whisper.

His expression softens, his eyes leaving yours to delicately trail over the features of your face, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as his focus stops at your lips before cupping his hand at your cheek.

“I can’t, love. Because I can’t tell you how long I have longed for this.” he whispers.

Your eyes shut tight at his confession, that familiar warmth radiating through your whole chest as the entire world seems to stop spinning again.

When you open your eyes, they threaten to spill over with tears, and Harry knowingly caresses the side of your cheek with his thumb.

You can’t breathe.

“Me too” you utter almost silently.

Your admission sparks the most beautiful, genuine smile you’ve ever seen Harry wear, and he touches his forehead to yours with his hand gently cradling the back of your head.

“Well, thank fuck for that” he jokes, and you laugh breathily before pulling back to finally meet his eyes with a new confidence.

He looks between each of your eyes before refocusing his gaze on your lips. Before you can even acknowledge the excitement blooming in your chest, his mouth is on yours.

And it’s soft. It’s slow. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

He pulls you into his lap and deepens the kiss, causing you to whimper into his mouth as your hands fist into his t-shirt, desperately trying to anchor yourself to him, not wanting to lose him now that you finally have him.

His hand moves from the back of your head, trailing down your back to gently cup your ass, your core clenching in utter desire in response.

He pulls away from the kiss breathlessly, his hand gliding softly beneath your t-shirt, caressing the skin of your stomach, up towards your ribs suggestively.

“I know you’ve spent all day in bed, love.” he breathes. “But would you mind if I took you back there?”

Your head dizzies with a new lust. You scan over his face as he pulls you down against his lap almost desperately, his expression showing nothing but his adoration and unsatiated need for you.

And now, you can think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

“..yes please.”

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fandomxo00 · 8 days

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Midnight Rain - Logan Howlett one shot

The tension between you and Logan finally comes to a head when he goes for his job interview

character: worst!Logan x reader!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: sexual tension, sexual fantasies, ex-boyfriend tramua, steamy, logan is sooo in love with y/n

please vote below!!

Logan thought he was incredibly lucky and cursed to be roommates with you. You weren't a bad roommate by any means but that wasn't the problem. The problem is that you were the closet thing Althea had to a grandchild, your grandma had passed away and she had been best friends with Althea. Althea never had any children of her own, so she loved you very dearly. You practically grew up with an extra grandma and now she was the last piece you had of your grandmother. She had given you the no shit taking attitude but also treated you like the most precious thing in the world. Something that had astonished Wade the first time he met you.

Even though Logan hadn't been there at the time, he started going on and on about his new friend. Wade was already trying to set them up before they even met. When Althea met Logan, she immediately told you he needed a roommate, as you needed a good reason to quick your ex out.

You had alot of attachment issues, even after your ex cheated on you over a year ago. Jacob had let you sign the lease for a whole year, he said that you could move out. But you didn't want to liable for him trashing the place if you weren't there. Your ex had relied on his mommy for most of his life. One of the reasons why you struggled so much in the relationship and pushed him away is because he treated you like you were his mommy. Which at first you thought it was endearing that he liked being taken care. But he never did anything in return and if he did, he complained about it.

What kept you there was the fact that he was good in bed. So even after you broke up, you still hooked up from time to time. Most of the time it was him crawling into your bed in the middle of the night, asking for just a cuddle. Before getting into a late night fucking session that sent the both of you to bed afterwards. But you didn't trust him and when the lease came back around, you kicked him out, buying it out from him with Logan's help.

When Logan heard of your shitty situationship, it had pissed him off. He acted so cold towards you for the longest time, thinking that a women like you deserved so much more than to be used. But instead of showing you what a good man looks like, he was short, gruff and harsh with you. Though of course you had grown close with Wade, so now Logan heard all about your relationship issues. He also heard about how you stayed because you needed good sex. Of course that sent him on a thought spiral, dirty images of you filling his head.

But what he didn't like was the thoughts of taking care of you, being the one to make you dinner, help you in the shower, listen to you talk for hours and make you feel good (hopefully with his tongue or cock). He was consciously trying not to have feelings for you. But then you showed him kindness, pointing out when it seemed like he was in pain, dishing out your own bluntness. Though you didn't have to a complete dick to get under his skin, time and time again you show how much more mature you were than him.

When he was being mean, you confronted him to ask what was wrong. When he was being petty, you were realistic and always made him feel like there was no reason to be mad. But most of all, you were unrelentlessly brave, even when he was drunk, or even when he screamed at you because he was pissed. You never shrunk down, not even when his claws came out. You told him to put them away and have a real conversation with him, rather than being a petty asshole. How could he argue with that? How can he push you away when you never push him? You challenge him but you never ask intrusive questions or prod at his past. All you do is listen and then you tell him you feel.

Though sometimes he didn't know what to say. Most of the time if he was grumpy around you, was because he saw you in those tiny shorts that barely cover your ass, or when you were at you refused to wear a bra. And you always kept it freezing in the apartment, so more times than not you'd catch him looking at your pebbled nipples. Not that you minded, he knew that. The peaks only hardening with his gaze.

Logan had known about your crush from the get-go. Though most women thought he was attracted so he didn't think anything of it. Your heart just picking up in speed when you first met him, the lingering looks and at first you were shy. Logan thought it was merely physical,one day, it particularly hard for him not to throw you on the counter, he walked out of his room shirtless, you were resting against the bar, leaning over as your eyes trailed along him. Logan watched as your eyes basically screamed, 'Fuck me' and the notes of your arousal started to fill his senses.

After that point you started to tease him, bending over or squatting when he was in the room, especially when you were shorts or those grey leggings that clung to your thighs and hips. Logan just wanted to peel those things off of you and feel your skin under his hands. Because he knew your skin was soft, he always smelt your lavender lotion and the essential oil you put behind your ears and on your wrists.

You would go out of your way to touch him, and when you did you never pulled away first. You would skim pass him to grab a plate getting awfully close to him each time, the smell of coconut in your soft curls, or making up an excuse to hand him something, so your touch could linger on his. Your eyes always meeting his, the closer you got, waiting for him to reject you. But he never did, he just didn't have it him to actually reject you, but to avoid you? He could do that; he could also pull away each time you subtly came on to him.

The day that stopped, he thought he had done something wrong. A feeling of panic coming into him before the thought that this was the right thing flitted into his mind. The reality that he very much did have feelings for you was what held him back. You'd tell him that he was being pessimist if he told you he couldn't have you because he couldn't dare to lose you. That everyone he loved died, you were so young too, you had so much life to live, and he couldn't take that away from you. You were too good for him, you deserved to have a man your age, a man that could give you everything.

Logan knew that you wanted to get married, to have kids, to fall in love, it was all you ever talked about with Wade. Someone to grow old with, of course he couldn't give you that. But that fact that you were human proved to him that he couldn't. Before it was just a fear of losing you, but the reality was he would one day, lose you. He was pulled out of his thoughts as you walked by the bathroom. Leaning your hand against the door as you looked at him the mirror. A serious, slightly annoyed look on his face as his eyes were focused on his tie, before flitting over to you, the dip in his brow softening. "Need help?"

"Yeah." Logan breathed, offering you tight smile as you stepped into the bathroom. Moving to stand in front of the mirror, his eyes looking down at you before looking behind you in the reflection. Logan couldn't stop his eyes from landing on the curve of your ass, of course you were wearing his favorite grey leggings. That clung to each curve just perfectly, tight against your skin and thighs, made your legs look longer as they flared out to the side at the bottoms.

You looked so fucking good.

Logan's hands practically ached from wanting to touch you, he took all of him to keep his hands at his hands. "Where are you going?" You murmured, your eyes flitting up his, a hint of something he couldn't quite place in your tone.

Your doe eyes feigning innocence even when wearing the t-shirts that dip to show your breasts. Your smell always intoxicating as your hands came to the sides of his tie, pulling them together. You had casually leaned into him, his head dipping as he stared down at you, his eyes were a light brown with little specs of green in them. "Job interview." You took a shaky breath out, your heart race stabilizing.

Were you jealous?

Logan's eyebrow shot up, as your eyes kept moving from the tie, your hands slow in their movements, as you tried to focus on his words. "Did ya think it was something else?" he teased.

When his eyes shone with hindered desire, all you wanted to do was to stare into them forever, as the light brown in his eyes turned dark, almost as if the darkness of the green took over. Your hands shook as nerves came over you, the rugged look on his face, the lines that made his face so handsome, the way his nose curves and his jaw clenched, you felt your heart beating faster again. Logan's shoulders moving up with a shaky breath as he looks down at your long eye lashes, freckles that peppered across your forehead and just a few light ones on your nose. "No." Your voice shook, your teeth bit at skin of your inner mouth, his lips flickering to the gloss that covered your plump lips.

Logan swore that you were trying to take your time, as you undid the knot to try again, a shit-eating grin coming over his face, "Sure." His timber voice, sardonic. "You even know how to do this, princess?"

Princess.

He shouldn't have said that your hands paused as you looked up at him. Logan had seen you turned on before but not like this, mild attraction when you saw him shirtless or sometimes you just looked at him with this light look in your eyes. But Logan never watched your eyes dilate in real time, saw a deep red tint over your cheeks and running down your chest. The sound of your heart in his ears and the smell of what that nickname did you. Logan tried not to imagine your slick on his fingers, but it was what popped into his mind the moment he smelt you. "Don't call me that." You warned, as your eyes flitted back to tie, finishing it and pulling up to his neck.

"Why not?" His soothing low voice, running down your spine and straight to your core.

As you went to move your hand away, his large captured your wrist, your hand and wrist fitting in the palm of his hand. Your brown eyes connected with his, as you visibly trembled while he felt the thrum of your heart against his fingers. The way you consumed him was not like anyone else, no one took over all of his senses the way you did. The two of you stood frozen, as his eyes flicked back and forth from both of your eyes.

Your head tilted up your nose coming level to his, it felt like it was hard to breath as Logan looked at you so intensely. "Let me go." You whispered, as his hand immediately dropped yours but only to settle over his ribs, as you leaned into him.

"I can't." Logan grumbled, at this moment the two of you didn't really need to speak in full sentences. Your eyes were doing all the communicating, your words mere teasing gestures to drawn each other in.

"Why not?" You repeated his earlier words, your eyes burning into his with desire. The urge to set you on the counter and press his nose to your crotch was making his hands shake. Logan wanted to taste you so bad, maybe he could do that for you.

No.

He can't cross that line, your more than half of his age. You were too good for him, had too much potential in life for him to come screw it up. "What are you thinking about?" You pressed, your hand skimming up to feel the muscles tense under your fingers as you felt the smooth material of his suit jacket. His natural heat radiating off of him, making you subconsciously move closer to him.

Logan gave in to the temptation of touching you, his hand coming to sit above your collarbone, the weight of his hand made your eyes flutter shut. God, he wished he didn't hear the softest airiest little breath, you made. You almost fucking whined just because he fucking touched you. What would you sound like with his head between your thighs?

"You know what I'm thinking about." Logan assured; his voice was deep like the rumbling of the earth. Your hand kept moving as it creeped up to his neck, the feeling of your cold, delicate fingers made his grip on you tighten. Your soft hands meet the hair at the base of his neck before moving up into the nicely cut hair at the back of his head.

"No-. No I don't, Logan. Please tell me." You pleaded, as Logan practically growled as his hands came to your waist, only seconds passed as he backed you up into the bathroom sink. His hips pinning yours to the counter behind you as his head dipped in by your ear, you felt his erection in his pants, press up against your stomach the further you backed up,making a whimper fall from your mouth.

"You. I'm always thinking about you." Logan's voice was croaky and dry, what you had now deemed as arousal.

"Always?"

Then knocking echoed through the apartment, barely noticeable in the bathroom, you didn't even flinch, he met you didn't even hear it. Not with the way you were looking at him as if you wanted to devour him whole. Right now he really wished he didn't have his enhanced hearing. But Logan's hands fell from you, his hips moving back as he stepped away from you. You felt yourself deflate as Logan adjusted himself in his pants before clearing his throat as a familiar voice started yapping from the other side. "Peanut! Time for your interview!"

"Fuck." Logan gruffed, shaking his head as you stood by the counter completely quiet, when his eyes found yours again. That soft watery look in your eyes made it nearly impossible not to tell Wade to fuck off.

But if he wanted to stay here with you, he needed a job. Even though he shouldn't want you, the pull between the two of you was strong. There was no denying that you were attracted to one another and Logan would never admit that he liked your personality too. But it evident to anyone who knew him that he was infatuated by you. If he wouldn't let himself, have you, at least he could try to be around you.

Though he knew that it wasn't even safe to be around you. If Logan even interacted with you, it could risk the two of you being drawn together like magnetics. You'd tell him to stop thinking so hard about it, that he's only manifesting what he didn't want. The real truth of that matter was that he could think of every single reason of why he shouldn't be with you. But when he was so close to you, so easily being consumed by you. That's why he avoided you so often, but what would truly happen if you decided to fully pursue him?

All of his resolve would completely fumble.

Note: i got carried away this was supposed to a imagine, sorry not sorry, just want him to fantazie and have no choice but to want me plz, ive wanted to write for worst! Logan so badly, but usually the more i want it the harder it is to write lmao. i wanted to use the scene from the wolverine where mariko is fixing his belt but i couldn't find the gif, sometimes i wonder if i spend more time on the gifs than the actual imagine.

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eden-evergreen · 1 year

Text

Your boyfriend walks in on you while showering

eren jaeger (aot) + ohma tokita (ka).

synopsis -> mini drabbles, with a whole lotta fluff <3. established relationships; eren’s story set in a modern domestic setting

warning -> mention and description of constipation in ohma’s story, nothing vulgar — just a heads up to not dent your appetite if you’re consuming food. it wasn’t meant to be as unhinged as it was, but i think it would’ve happened between him and his s/o at least once T_T

Eren

It was when he heard the whoosh of the shower and assumed you were going to take a while in there… as you always do… and he needed to use the toilet.

Slightly premeditated? Perhaps… but he couldn’t afford to wait 20 minutes and you decided to take a shower after you washed the dishes together… just as you warned him. He also wanted to see you naked, because it felt like forever since he last all of you… its only been two days.

You remained focused on yourself as he snuck through the door caressing your skin and humming a sweet tune… he was incredibly silent against the background noise of the shower.

You turn around to reach for the soap when a foggy big figure appeared in you peripheral.

“AHHH”, you snatched the glass shower screen open and peaked your head out, “Eren, you almost gave me a heart attack?! Can you let me know when you’re gonna come in please??”

“Sorry love”, he says as he flushes the toilet and washes his hands, “you look good, mind if I get a better view?”. He licks his lips as he eyes you up and down. If his eyes where a representative of his stomach it would be growling right now, you looked delicious and he was starving.

“Hmph, fine… but lets keep it PG okay?”.

He rips his t-shirt over his head “Yeah, of course”, the swiftness of his response was not very convincing. But then again, its hard to keep it PG when he looks as good as he does.

Ohma

Ohma is has a colossal appetite. Appropriately so, it takes a lot to maintain his broad physique and fuel his extreme training programme. As he’s off training the majority of the day, you’d sometimes make his dinner after work. He’d rather you not do it, especially since he comes back so late causing you to go bed much later than you should’ve. Plus its a lot to make at once… a family pot’s worth of food will only last about a 2 dinners with him.

Tonight you decided it was worth it as it was a weekend so you could afford the later night’s sleep — and hopefully some extra time with him. You made a hearty portion of mixed meat skewers — his favourite.

Ohma was very grateful for the meal, kissing your forehead before digging into the feast. You save some aside for yourself, eating alongside him in a comfortable silence. He continued to eat his meal as you finished yours and made your way into the shower. You assume Ohma’s going to join you when he’s done so you could wash his back.

Instead he barges into the toilet damn near breaking the door! He sits on the toilet seat letting a huge one rip he groans soon after.

“OH COME ON OHMA!!!”, you whaled, quickly grabbing your towel and escorting yourself out the bathroom.

“Too… much… protein —”, he groans continuing to defecate with the door open.

That poor man. You love Ohma, you really do… but his proteins sh*ts are none your business. Its given with how much of it he consumes on a daily basis, you’ve had a couple of blockages of your toilet before but he was careful enough to make sure you weren’t exposed to it. Until now… he was clearly suffering.

You swung the door shut behind him as he buried his head in his lap, groaning at the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. You put on some slippers before going downstairs, checking if he’s washed his dish(es). You come to find all the meat… two days worth is g o n e.

After an hour he seemed to have stabilised. He took a shower before joining you on the sofa with his head in your lap, cheek smooshed against your pillowy thighs.

You caressed his black locks brushing them out of his eyes, “you shouldn’t have eaten the 3 trays of meat Ohma”.

“I know, but it tasted so good…. And your cooking is much better than mine”. He winced in pain, closing his eyes in an attempt to mask the pain, “your ass looked sexy in the shower by the way”. He smirked before wincing in pain once more burying his face in to your lap. You scoffed at his comment:

‘Men are such simple beings’.

#eren yeager x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager headcanons #eren jeager headcanons #eren jaeger as your boyfriend #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren aot #ohma tokita x reader #tokita ohma x reader #ohma x reader #tokita ohma #ohma tokita #ohma kengan ashura #kengan ashura

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spectres-n-soap · 6 months

Text

All The Things I've Said PT2 - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Ghosts past, tragic backstory™️, pregnancy, implied protective Ghost

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N - 2/7 done.

Ghost has found that the times when you are gone from the flat while attending therapy is suffocating. He normally does not mind being alone or the silence that comes with it but after spending the last weeks with you, he finds that he hates it.

He tries to keep busy now instead of sitting around like a dog left at home while the owner goes shopping. Which is what he did the first few times you told him that you would text him when the session was over. He had wandered from the couch, to the dining room chairs and back to the couch so many times in just a few hours that he was sure he was going mad.

It wasn’t until the fourth day of this that something had clicked and he started this routine. You were heavily pregnant now and after the reveal that you’d likely have to get a c-section, he had picked up more chores around the house. He cleans the dishes, takes out the trash, makes your bed and does the laundry. He buys food for the house and keeps everything stocked. Ghost looks at the little sage green onesie in his hands and wonders if the baby will even fit. He saw the size of them, they were going to be a big and fat baby.

Ghost folds the onesie with a skill that had made his hands shake when he first did it. Joseph had been a very fat and happy baby. All smiles and giggles, only crying when hungry or having soiled his nappy. He had big blue eyes that Ghost can still recall with clarity but not without it being soiled with the memory of how those eyes looked when he was dead. Maybe that's why he couldn’t visit Johnny before he was cremated. His and Joseph’s eyes were so similar. He didn’t want the memory of two sets of blue eyes glazed over with the gray of death.

Ghost rubs the soft fabric of the beige pants that went with the white shirt he had just folded. It was soft, non irritating for a baby’s soft and delicate skin. His mind is drawn back to the past, back to when Beth had just finished her own baby shower and there were so many gifts.

Despite Ghost’s family being rather small, Beth’s was not. It had been refreshing and a little overwhelming to have so many people over. But his mum had enjoyed it, she had made so much food that despite the twenty people in that house there were still leftovers.

Beth rested her head against Tommy’s shoulder, tired from all the fuss and talking while Simon gathered up the trash. “You okay love?” Tommy asked softly and cupped Beth’s cheek. Beth smiled up at Simon’s brother and nodded.

“Jus’ tired. That’s all.” Beth yawned and Tommy smiled before he suggested she take a nap while he and Simon cleaned up. Beth didn’t need any convincing and with their mum’s help, waddled up the stairs to their bedroom. Simon kept putting things into the trash bag as Tommy gathered up the collection of blue onesies and outfits. Simon had never imagined Tommy being a father.

He had never envisioned either of them being fathers because of the shit job their father had done. And yet, here was Tommy. Married to a wonderfully kind woman with a baby on the way, clean from drugs and their father left to die from whatever cancers ate away at his body. Good fuckin’ riddiance thought Simon.

“You’re gonna be a good father.” Simon said, not exactly sure where that came from. Tommy smiled at him, brown eyes mirrored each other.

“And you’re gonna be a good uncle.” Tommy said as he folded up another blue onesie. “You’re already a good brother.” Simon shook his head but didn’t argue. He had told the military to fuck off, that he was going on leave to fix up the mess that was his family. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to stay on hardship leave. Hopefully long enough to see baby Joseph.

“I’m doing what I’m meant to do.” Simon said with a shrug as he stuffed one last pile of ripped apart wrapping paper. “I came back for my family.”

“Thank you Simon.” Tommy placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “For making me get better.”

Simon shrugged off his hand, “I only threw the rope, you’re the one who had to climb.”

Ghost rewashes the baby bottles, not interested in the baby drinking from unwashed bottles. He watches the droplets slowly drip from the bottle as he sets them on the drying rack, he swallows as the memories claw up from the depths. He wishes they were happy still and not fucked up with blood and a type of grief that didn’t let go.

He looked down at the baby in his arms. All swaddled in a soft blue blanket with a blue boonie on his head. Baby Joseph. His face was still wrinkled and his eyes were shut, his mouth slightly open as he slept. There were feelings stirring deep within him that he had never felt before. There was this tiny life being held in his hands, hands that had killed and shot off guns that would surely ruin Joseph's hearing. And yet he was the only one holding him as Tommy doted on Beth after some skin to skin contact earlier.

Simon held his breath as Joseph blinked, his little blue eyes unfocused as he stared up at Simon. Joseph squinted and a small toothless smile appeared. “Hi Joseph.” Simon whispered as he looked down at his nephew and he felt tears appear in his eyes. “It's your uncle Simon.” Simon licked his dry lips as Joseph looked up at him, “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect your entire family. Promise.” Simon murmured, so quietly he almost didn’t hear himself say it.

Simon wipes at his eyes as the memory fades and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He checks his phone just as your text message appears, “I’m ready to be picked up.” Simon wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans before he grabs his keys as he stuffs down the emotions those memories conjure. You are not Beth. Johnny was not Tommy. And he was not going to let anything happen to you or that baby.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #call of duty #cod #soap #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh #thoyh #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x soap x reader

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theladyragnell · 2 months

Note

Exchanging gifts for the first time: E/R

(This one Fought Me for no reason I can discern, but hopefully it does the trick!)

It’s taken them several years to invent what Joly dramatically calls The Birthday Party, with the capital letters every time even though he’s a slow texter anyway. Five of them have birthdays in the baking-hot months of June and July, and there was a year or two full of bar crawls and restaurant meals and rooftop parties where they all reached August exhausted and a little sick of each other’s company, so when Jehan, whose birthday is last in the sequence, suggested they just have a joint party in July, everyone was relieved to agree.

And then everybody wanted to give gifts and it felt weird for half of them to be opening gifts and the other half not, and then they all looked at each other at their half-hearted Christmas gathering, a holiday none of them feels quite easy celebrating, and then The Birthday Party became what it is, a chance for everyone to pass things around. Nobody gets special gifts for everyone, with that many to buy, but they pass around fancy chocolate bars and bottles of craft cider and handmade cards and it’s good. It’s better than awkward parties focused around one person.

Grantaire loves The Birthday Party. It’s one of his favorite nights of the year, and he spends the weeks before it closeted in his apartment, soberer and happier than he usually is, making matched sets of little paintings of the Musain or caricatures of everyone or handcarved soap dishes.

It’s just that this year, he and Enjolras are dating.

He’s very happy about that, to be clear, happy enough that he feels a little drugged most days, happy enough to embarrass himself if he examines it too closely, but it means he doesn’t have to restrain his foolish desires to give Enjolras lavish personal gifts anymore, and the consequence of that is that he no longer has any ideas for lavish personal gifts.

And Enjolras won’t care about that, obviously he won’t. Enjolras’s gift to The Birthday Party every year is a pot of something delicious to eat and a handwritten card each about how much he loves them, something Grantaire was unable to deal with when the notes for him were grudging and doesn’t know how he’s going to deal with now that they’re sincere. Enjolras doesn’t care about gifts and lives in a tragically spartan apartment largely because he’s too lazy to hang anything, and Grantaire isn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary at The Birthday Party except maybe a kiss.

But he still wants to, and his friends are not helpful when he tries to subtly ask them what to do, so he finally caves in, makes a terrible choice, and asks Enjolras.

“I could tell you what I’m giving you,” Enjolras suggests in a meditative tone, propping his chin up on his hands where he’s laying on his stomach in Grantaire’s bed. Grantaire gets the urge to paint him in lush oils, but he gets that urge at least once a day, so it’s pretty easy to ignore. “If that would be easier.”

Grantaire doesn’t particularly care about surprises, but he has his pride. “Don’t do that, that’s one of those things that nobody says is bad luck but which really ought to be bad luck. Shaking one’s presents, of course, is a time-honored tradition, but hearing what they are from the giver? Unthinkable.”

“I’ll like anything,” says Enjolras. “It doesn’t matter to me what you give me, or if you give me anything at all. I’ll still be here.” And then, after some silence and one of his penetrating stares, “I made yours.”

“Noted, I’ll leave the diamonds at home and will only do a string of pearls if I dive for them myself.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes and encourages Grantaire to go to sleep, but it does, much as Grantaire hates to admit it, help.

He doesn’t wake the next morning overcome with inspiration, but he finds his way to it, taking time away from his gifts for everyone else to work on Enjolras’s.

The Birthday Party is as rowdy as ever, when it comes. Grantaire’s block prints impress everyone, and Enjolras’s curry is, as ever, delicious. As the night starts breaking apart, people admitting they have to go home, the more personal gifts come out, the ones they all put off so nobody feels left out or pressured. Grantaire, who finds sharing his feelings with Enjolras more embarrassing now that they’re reciprocated than he did before, waits until Enjolras is finished with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, until Joly has draped a new scarf far too hot for the season around Grantaire’s shoulders, to take Enjolras aside.

“You settled on something,” Enjolras says, and smiles.

Grantaire, flustered more than he cares to admit that he is by the smile and the situation and his stupid idea, produces the envelope that’s been weighting down his pocket all day, four pages densely written in his horrible handwriting that alternates between crabbed and flourishing, his own version of Enjolras’s yearly letters, only he’s never said in one paragraph what he could say in twenty. “I’ll do better next year, when I’m less nervous, but I thought—people give gifts they’d appreciate themselves, right? So this is me trying that out.”

Enjolras takes the envelope and opens it, breaking the wax seal Grantaire put on because he does have some standards, and only makes it a sentence or two again before he stops, which is good, because Grantaire might combust if he’s forced to watch Enjolras read that letter. “I do appreciate it, and I’ll read it when I won’t embarrass both of us,” he says, and produces a small package. “And we had the same thought, I think.”

Inside the package, of course, is a small canvas, maybe ten centimeters on a side if Grantaire were to care to measure it, with a very careful painting of Grantaire’s couch painted on it, every bit as earnest and every bit as unskilled as Grantaire’s letter. “Definitely the same thought,” says Grantaire, and has to swallow several times before he can say anything else. Even then, he has to seize on poor Feuilly as he walks by, knowing Enjolras will have something for him to give them both a break.

They both go back to Grantaire’s apartment when The Birthday Party is over and Grantaire puts his new canvas in pride of place next to his bed while Enjolras is brushing his teeth and then falls asleep before Enjolras ever makes it to bed.

When he wakes up in the morning, Enjolras is still in bed, a rare late morning, with all the pages of Grantaire’s letter arrayed on his lap and his stupidly beautiful nose a little red with leftover tears. “I love you too,” he says when he sees Grantaire is awake.

Grantaire didn’t write the words in the letter, they felt too soon, but of course Enjolras knew what he meant. He’s made a study of getting to the heart of Grantaire’s torrents of words. “I love you,” he says, belated but no less true, and lets Enjolras carefully fold the pages of the letter up and put them to the side before he presses him back into the pillows.

#answered asks #impetusofadream #sometimes i write stories #emotionally constipated revolutionaries

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mavrintarou · 1 year

Text

[4:38 PM] Oikawa Toru [3]

Thank you for your patience <3

Warning: angst, healing and future complication

Second part Fourth part

After ensuring Mateo’s fever had subsided, Y/n kicked Toru to get some sleep. She saw his hesitation; did he not trust her with his son?

Y/n responded with a deadpan expression, her tone tinged with sarcasm. “Oh, don’t worry. I promise I won’t just take off with him,” she said, her words laced with irony.

Toru shook his head, his expression filled with disbelief. “No, no, that’s… I trust you,” he muttered, looking visibly exhausted. “I just… I can’t wrap my head around this. Why would you care about us?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised by his response. “you were the one who came to my unit,” she reminded him.

Recalling their initial encounter, Toru nodded slowly. “Yeah… you’re right,” he acknowledged.

“I have a weird sleep schedule anyways, so I’m used to being a night owl.” Y/n turned her attention back to Mateo, who suckled his pacifier in her arms. “I’ll watch his fever, so go rest.”

He inhaled like he had more things to say but nodded, “all right, but wake me up at any time, got it?” She saluted him, and he smiled before turning his heels towards his bedroom. He left the door cracked ajar so that Y/n did not feel uncomfortable entering his room if needed.

Y/n and Mateo sat together, swaying and waltzing to the melody of her old concerto videos playing on YouTube. The city night of Tokyo glowed below them as they gazed out from the window. The soothing music and gentle rhythm lulled Mateo into a peaceful slumber, his head finding a comfortable spot against Y/n’s chest.

Y/n’s gaze shifted toward the TV as the familiar sound of a solo violinist filled the room, and her heart began to race with anticipation.

Kim Woojin.

As the video continued to play, Y/n realized with nostalgia and sadness that it was their concerto performance from four years ago.

It had been a while since she had last spoken to Woojin, particularly after he had proposed to her.

Despite their history, she had made the difficult decision to reject his proposal.

Y/n sat across from Toru in awkward silence at his kitchen table.

She woke up to the smell of delicious food and immediately was hungry. The thought of food was pushed aside as her mind focused on getting Mateo’s fever down.

Toru set a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and fruits before her. He pushed a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice toward her while sipping on some tea.

“Thank you,” she muttered, still feeling dazed.

Mateo was in Toru’s arms, being fed with a bottle.

I need to go, she thought, chowing down her food.

“I won’t kick you out, so you don’t need to inhale your food,” Toru said softly, setting the bottle on the table and shifting Mateo upward to pat his back.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him for reading her mind. “I appreciate the breakfast, but I have other things to do today,” she lied; she had nothing to do now that she was taking a break from the piano world.

“Mateo and I can’t thank you enough for whatever you did to eliminate his fever.”

Y/n nodded, finishing the last of her strawberries. She stood up and began picking up her plate to take to the sink when Toru stopped her. “Your hands are full; this is the least I can do.”

She ended up washing the dishes before she said goodbye.

“I’ll be away the next couple of days. I used your TV to search for some of my old videos on YouTube last night, and it seemed to have put Mateo to sleep.” She sighs, “hopefully, it’ll work.”

Toru smiled, “thank you, Y/n. Truly.”

. .

Y/n returned four days later.

Traveling across multiple time zones took a toll on Y/n’s body, making it difficult for her to adjust. Exhausted, she managed to take a quick shower before collapsing into bed. She fell into a deep sleep, unaware of the passing hours until evening.

Glancing at the clock on her phone, Y/n groaned in frustration. She despised the disoriented feeling that often accompanied traveling, as it disrupted her entire day.

Opening her fridge, she was greeted with empty shelves.

Sighing, she returned to her room to change her clothes to go out.

She returned an hour later, complete and with some groceries. She exited the elevator and looked at the opposite door for a second before entering her unit.

. .

[Aoba Josei High School]

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling like a fool.

She and Toru have plans to stop by the bookstore after school to pick up the latest manga volume to In Your Heart. A series that he took an interest in after he found her reading it.

Toru also wanted to treat her to ice cream.

Y/n has yet to tell Toru that she couldn’t resist and read beyond the chapters online and find out what happened next.

The main character, Lina, is a well-known pianist who returns home after being abroad for many years. She runs into her first crush from high school, Nikko, and they reconnect, falling in love with each other once again. But Lina has a secret…

Y/n has been giddy, wanting to blurt about the spoiler she discovered; Toru will be so shocked!

She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, which seemed to flutter whenever she thought about Toru. Unable to ignore it any longer, she realized she was just like the many other girls easily charmed by his captivating personality.

A persistent voice in the depths of her mind constantly urged caution, reminding her to be careful. However, her heart was experiencing emotions she had never felt before, and it was impossible for her not to desire more.

Y/n followed behind three unknown girls as they led her outside the school building. She was annotating her notes when three girls approached her desk.

“We have something to say to you; follow us.”

They turned the corner behind the gymnasium, and Y/n hesitated until one of the girls stepped out, “come.”

Finally, when they were out of earshot, the girl Y/n perceived as the leader stepped closer and swiftly retrieved something from her pocket. She forcefully brought it to Y/n’s face, making her flinch in surprise.

“Watch this.”

The video began playing, starting shaky and at a weird angle toward four boys.

She immediately recognizes Toru and the other three boys he is often around with, Hajime, Takahiro, and Issei.

“How is it going with Y/n?” Issei inquired, kicking his feet onto his desk.

Toru shrugged his shoulder. “I think it’s going good; she’s warmed up to me.”

“Yeah, we can tell; I’ve never heard her talk to so much before.” Issei laughed mockingly. “What did you do? Woo her?”

Toru snorted, “my charm was enough for her to open up to me. How much more do you need for me to win the bet?”

A hand slapped the back of Toru’s head; Iwaizumi Hajime growled, “you made a bet? That’s the bet you guys were talking about?”

“Toru said he could get any girl to fall at his feet; Y/n is totally at his feet.” Takahiro laughed, digging into the inside of his pocket before slapping a few bills in front of Toru. “It’s just a bet; it’s not like Toru said he would get her to fall in love with him. He just needed to open her up; no harm done.”

“But still, you made a bet on her.” Hajime pointed, “that’s still a shitty thing to do, Shitty-Kawa.”

“Chill, Iwa-chan,” Toru rolled his eyes, “I only said I’ll get her to fall for my charms, which she did. I didn’t say anything about dating her and dumping her. If anything, I helped her open up to a man, a future man for herself, so she should be thankful I helped her up for her.”

Issei leaned forward before Toru, “do you like her?”

Toru shook his head, “no, she’s cute, but I don’t like her. Her stuttering is cute, but personally, it’s a turn-off.”

Hajime swore, “you’re an asshole. Did you pretty much use the girl to help your grades?”

“Yep!” the two other guys answered. “That’s why he had the top scores in the class, and now Oikawa has the grades to apply to colleges.”

The video ended.

Words were sealed, and Y/n could only look pitiful.

“We thought you should know the truth.” The girl stuffs her phone back in her pocket. “Whatever you decide to do is up to you.” They turned to walk away.

“W – wa – ait,” Y/n whispered; they turned to look over their shoulders. “Th – thank y – ou.”

Toru found himself glancing back at Y/n’s empty seat.

It has been day three of her absence, and their teacher has not said anything about her absence like she would with other students.

She also hasn’t responded to any of his messages after her last message to him canceling their plans to go to the bookstore and grab ice cream afterward.

“Class, I have an announcement to make.” The teacher tapped her pen against the chalkboard to get everyone’s attention. “One of our classmates, Y/n…” she paused to inhale sharply. “She will no longer be in this class as of today. Can I ask a volunteer to clear Y/n’s locker and deliver her possession?”

Toru stood up immediately, “I volunteer.”

After school was out, when Naomi approached him, Toru rushed to gather his items to leave.

She looked seriously before asking quietly, “can I talk to you for a bit?”

Toru nodded before following her. She stepped off to the side, away from the crowd rushing to leave.

He noticed Naomi eyeing the bag of Y/n’s items, mainly a pencil pouch, a few notebooks, and small stationary items. “I can take those to Y/n.”

Toru frowned; his grip tightened around the handle of the bag. “It’s okay. Utada-sensei asked me to drop it off, and it’s on my way home, too, so I can swing by.” He paused, watching Naomi before asking, “did something…happen to Y/n?”

Her eyes turned cold, “shouldn’t you know best? Since you made that bet on her?” She wanted to laugh in his face when his eyes widened. She held her hand out, but Toru made no move to hand over the bag. “Face it, you’ve been outed, Oikawa; I hope you won a good chunk of money.”

Naomi took a step forward, she was tall for a girl, but she wasn’t as tall as Toru, but her stance was taller than him. “If I had not promised Y/n, I would have punched you.” She reached to snatch the bag out of his hand, leaving him behind stunned.

The end of the school year came in a blink of an eye, and before Toru knew it, he was only two days away from graduation.

Everyone has congratulated him for getting scouted and accepted to join Club Atletico San Juan, a professional team in the Argentina Volleyball Federation. It is beyond his hopes and imagination, and he is still processing it.

He would immediately leave for Argentina right after graduation.

He knows he’s happy and proud of himself.

But there was something heavy on his heart.

Toru has been sitting on the bench at one of the local parks near his home, waiting for Y/n.

If she does come.

He had texted her earlier; you probably don’t want to see me anymore, but I would like to explain myself. Can we meet at the park by our house in 30 minutes?

His knee has been shaking nervously. Doubts plagued his mind: What if he couldn’t effectively convey his message? What if he stumbled over his words? The fear of choking on his words weighed heavily on him.

His head snapped up the moment he felt the spot beside him shift. “Y/n…” She doesn’t spare him a glance, staring straight ahead. “All I can say is… I’m sorry.” There is no emotion on her face. “I got accepted to play for a club in Argentina, and I’ll be leaving soon, but I couldn’t leave without saying I’m truly sorry. I own up to all my mistakes, my actions of hurting you… I don’t even know how to make up for hurting you.”

Tears pricked his eyes, but he berated himself for even considering crying. How dare he shed tears after showing no remorse when agreeing to the bet? Deep down, he knew the situation was complex, but he believed it was better not to make this worse any further. “I’m truly sorry,” he managed to say, his voice filled with regret.

Y/n stood up, and Toru’s eyes followed as she turned her heels to stand before him. She exhaled softly and then smiled.

Toru blinked, eagerly awaiting her response, hoping for any words to escape her lips. He braced himself for the possibility of her expressing hatred or refusal to forgive him. However, she remained silent, to his surprise, not uttering a single word.

She just stared at Toru for a second longer before she dropped her head and turned her heels, walking away.

. .

[Present day]

Y/n woke up feeling drowsy; she couldn’t tell if the sun was rising or ready to set.

Closing her eyes, she found herself once again immersed in memories of her high school days. Since the day she reconnected with Toru, her dreams seemed to be plagued by images of the past. It reminded her of the pain he had caused her, urging her to be cautious about getting involved with him again. However, part of her wonders if these dreams were a form of closure she needed, a way to finally put the past behind her.

The last encounter Y/n had with Toru occurred just before he departed overseas. Discovering that she had been nothing more than a bet to him left her reeling, and she needed space to process her emotions. Over time, she managed to move on and let go of the hurt caused by the bet.

In hindsight, she realized she should have trusted her instincts and knew it was too good for someone like Toru to genuinely want to be her friend.

However, his hurtful comment about her stuttering pierced her heart the deepest. That remark cut deep, lingering her thoughts and intensifying the pain caused by the ordeal.

For the longest time, she had accepted her speech impediment as a flaw, and her parents had encouraged her to seek professional help. However, she was always too nervous and shy to take that step. It was easier for her to remain silent; she had grown accustomed to that.

Reflecting on her past, Y/n realized that Toru’s presence in her life had sparked a newfound confidence in her speech. She developed a strong desire to communicate with him, which motivated her to study diligently and practice speaking sentences slowly to overcome her stuttering.

“M – mom… and d – ad…,” Y/n inhales sharply, interrupting the silence at dinner. “I… I want to go to – to O – Osaka School o – of Speech….”

The specialty school didn’t operate like public schools. After much consideration and approval from the principal of Aoba Josei, they allowed Y/n to graduate early so she could immediately start her classes at the specialty school.

Y/n decided to temporarily set aside her passion for piano to focus entirely on improving her speech. With dedicated effort and determination, she witnessed a remarkable process in a short amount of time. Her speech had improved tremendously, surprising her expectations.

For the first time in her life, Y/n experienced an unparalleled excitement about engaging in conversations. Her new confidence had been uplifted, inspiring her to discuss all the topics she had been too afraid to broach in the past.

Even years later, her stuttering only resurfaced in rare instances when she found herself overwhelmingly nervous. With her progress and confidence, her speech impediment became a distant memory, only appearing in the most intense moments of anxiety.

And recently, since she ran into Toru again.

Y/n lifted her head at the sound of her door chime. Grabbing her phone, she sees the notification that someone is at her door.

Toru and Mateo.

She exited the bed and ran her fingers through her hair before shouting, “coming!”

“Hey,” Toru greeted as soon as she opened the door, “we wanted to see if you would like to join us for dinner at our place. Mateo and I would like to treat you to dinner for being so kind to us.”

Her gaze met Mateo’s, and for a brief moment, he seemed taken aback before recognizing her. A look of excitement spread across his face, and he energetically pumped his chubby arms. She smiled sweetly at him before answering, “sure, give me ten minutes to change, and I’ll be over.”

Toru left the door ajar, allowing Y/n to enter without hesitation. She scanned the room, searching for the baby, and Toru directed her attention to the living room.

As she stepped inside, her eyes fell upon the adorable sight of Mateo sitting amidst a scattering of toys. When he saw her, his chubby arms started flapping excitedly, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward.

Y/n couldn’t contain her laughter as she hurried over to him.

“Don’t mind him; he’s in the phase of wanting to be held all the time. Don’t fall for it.” Toru’s voice echoed from the kitchen. Despite the warning, Y/n couldn’t resist the adorable charm of Mateo’s longing gaze.

“Hi, Mateo!” she cooed, clapping her hands to get his attention. Mateo’s face immediately lit up with excitement, clearly indicating his desire to be picked up. Y/n gently maneuvered him into a sitting position, but as soon as she did, he clung to her with a surprisingly firm grip, refusing to let go. “All right, all right, I’ll pick you up,” she chuckled, giving into his pout. Mateo nestled comfortably against her chest, his eyes gazing at her with awe.

She leaned in to kiss his chubby cheek, “so glad you’re feeling better.” She reached to comb his mop of dark brown hair and brushed it behind his ears, “your hair is getting long.” Her thumb rubbed his earlobe, and he let out a yawn. “Are you tired?”

She stood up and cuddled him against her chest, rocking him gently.

“Don’t cave in, Y/n… or else you’ll make it hard for me.” Toru groaned from the kitchen.

Despite Toru’s comment, the genuine smile on his face betrayed his words. Deep down, he harbored a secret appreciation for any interaction between the two.

Toru knows he can only do so much to fill the vacancy of a mother figure for Mateo, and he often wonders how it would be if Mateo had a mother figure in his life. Though he was still too young to understand it now, eventually, he would question why he didn’t have a mother like other kids his age.

Until that day arrives, Toru will assume the roles of both mother and father and will do his best to explain the situation when Mateo is old enough to understand. He won’t hide anything, but he will do his damn best to protect his son from anything and everything.

Being thrust into the role of a single parent, Toru found himself starting from square one with no prior knowledge or experience in caring for babies. The prospect of raising a child was entirely foreign to him, leaving him feeling utterly clueless and uncertain about where to begin.

As Mateo’s due date approached, Toru’s anxiety consumed him, and self-doubt crept into his thoughts. The weight of being the impending responsibility began to overwhelm him. Questions raced through his mind. Could he genuinely handle caring for a baby on his own? What would this mean for his volleyball career, which demanded so much time and dedication? Amid his uncertainty, the idea of putting the baby up for adoption crossed his mind as a potential solution. These distressing thoughts clouded his judgment and added to his growing panic.

As soon as Mateo was placed in Toru’s arms in the quiet sanctuary of a separate room at the hospital, a profound shift occurred within him. In that tender moment, as he gazed into his baby’s eyes, Toru realized he couldn’t abandon this innocent life. This was his baby, his flesh and blood, and he felt an overwhelming surge of love and responsibility inside him.

He no longer wished to beg Lucia to reconsider or plead for her to stay for the sake of their child. He wanted her to leave, to have no part in their lives. It was clear to Toru that he and Mateo were meant to face the world together, forming an unbreakable bond as father and son.

“Your noo – noodles will overcook at this point….”

Toru blinked, seeing that he completely ignored the pot of overly boiling ramen. “Oh shoot!” He quickly turned off the stove and glanced at Y/n, holding Mateo in her arms as they looked at him with the same confused look.

“You might be right; it’s a little overcooked.”

Y/n shrugged her shoulder and turned her attention to Mateo. Smiling, she told the baby, “it’s okay; I like soft ramen.” As if Mateo knew what she meant, he smiled widely at her.

Toru smiled too, his heart soft like his ramen at the sight of his son and Y/n smiling.

Y/n leaned back against her seat, groaning. “I’m so full.”

She thought he was only making home-cooked food; it turns out he ordered other food, which was delivered. Toru’s family-size kitchen table was filled with different dishes.

“Why did you get so much food?” She complained that she was full but continued adding to her plate.

Toru held a sleeping Mateo in his arms and ate with one hand, “well, I didn’t know what you like, so I got a variety of things.”

“Toru, if you knew me – you would know I’ll never say no to any food.” She bit into a piece of batter squid and sighed, “this is so delicious too.”

“I would like to know more about you.”

Y/n blinks, allowing those words to sink in. It was a simple yet significant statement that carried the weight of curiosity and a genuine desire to understand her better.

Toru observed the rapid whirl of thoughts in Y/n’s mind, realizing the gravity of his words. “I mean as in a friend,” he clarified, his voice filled with sincerity. “I want to be your friend again if you allow it.” His heart raced as she set her chopsticks down, causing his anxiety to spike. “Please, I’m sorry if I made this uncomfortable. I didn’t intend for it to be – “

Y/n’s words carried a sense of maturity and willingness to let go of the past. She assured him, “whatever happened between us years ago, it’s in the past. I don’t hate you.” Taking a moment to compose herself, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I’m glad you’re bringing this up because… I didn’t know how to address it.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “I won’t ask why I was a bet, but I want to know if you ever regretted it.” Her question hung in the air, reflecting curiosity and the need for closure.

“Yes,” he admitted, his response soft, almost a whisper, as he nodded. “Every day.”

Toru’s gaze bore into Y/n’s, his eyes reflecting guilt. It was a look she had noticed ever since reconnecting with him.

“I forgive you.” Y/n said in a heartbeat. Her words carry the power of absolution. A soft smile graced her lips as she continued, “so, let that burden go.” Though her words were simple, they meant everything.

She offered him her forgiveness and the opportunity to release the weight of his remorse and find solace.

With a profound sense of relief, it felt like the heavy burden on Toru’s shoulders had finally lifted.

His head dropped as he took a deep breath, mixed emotions washing over him. Setting his chopsticks down, he wiped the tears from his eyes. His voice barely above a whisper, “thank you.”

For so long, Toru had carried the weight of his past actions, believing that he deserved any punishment or consequences that came his way. He had run away, thinking it to be an act of cowardice, choosing to pursue his career in another country. But the burden became heavier with each passing day, month, and year.

He quietly carried it, not making a fuss, as he believed it was the price he had to pay for his foolish behavior.

Through time, Toru recognized the impact Y/n had made on his life, despite the relatively short period they had known each other. Her kindness had touched his heart, a realization that slowly dawned on him. That was all she had ever offered him throughout their encounters: genuine compassion.

Even after all this time, her influence lingered within him, a constant reminder of the goodness he had encountered in her presence. It was a testament to the power of small acts of kindness and the lasting impact they could have on a person’s life long after the moments have passed.

“Toru,” he looked up, “forgive yourself so you can be better and do better.” Her eyes drop to the deeply asleep baby in his arm, “do it for Mateo.”

And you, he said to himself.

“Okay,” he nodded, “please continue to eat; I didn’t mean to ruin the atmosphere.”

“I’m going to gain so much weight, thanks to you.” She teased, “but I’m really full; I can’t even eat even if I want to.” She stares at him for a split second, “thank you for dinner; everything was delicious.”

“Thank you for joining us,” Toru smiles at his son, “even if this guy is rude and sleeps during dinner.”

He met her gaze, reading the curiosity in her eyes, and something within him shifted.

For the first time, Toru felt a sense of pride in sharing his and Mateo’s story. It was no longer a source of shame or regret but evidence of their resilience and the love they built together.

“Are you wondering where his mother is at?”

Y/n looked at Toru with a gentle and understanding expression. She wanted him to know that he had a safe space to share his story, but she also respected his boundaries and understood that some things might be challenging to discuss. With a soft smile, she reassured him, “only if you feel safe and comfortable sharing.”

Her words were warm and sincere, letting Toru know he had someone who genuinely cared about him and his experience. Toru felt a wave of gratitude wash over him, realizing he had found someone who could truly understand and accept him, flaws and all.

“Of course,” He adjusted Mateo in his arm, “I was in a long-term relationship with his mother, her name is Lucia, and she is a pretty well-known model in San Juan. We both agreed and understood that our main priority was our careers.” He glanced down and rubbed the cheek of his son. “Mateo was not in either of our plans, and it scared the shit out of me when Lucia told me she was pregnant. I had no time to think about it and had to decide either my career or my child quickly.”

Toru’s mind had been consumed by the thoughts of his future, torn between his passion for volleyball and the responsibility of becoming a father. He had spent countless nights wrestling with his desires and aspirations, questioning if he was still finding fulfillment in the sport that had once been his everything.

He prayed for a sign that indicated what path he should take. During this time of deep contemplation, he learned about the life growing inside of Lucia, and Toru couldn’t help but see it as a sign that he had been desperately seeking. In an instance, his priorities shifted, and he knew deep down that his child would always come first.

The thought of being a father and having a little person who would look up to and rely on him filled him with a sense of purpose and determination he had never experienced before.

He realized his love for volleyball would always be a part of him, but being a loving and dedicated father was the most important role he could ever play.

“I was ready to retire or take a long break from my career, but Lucia wasn’t on board; she was unequivocal that she didn’t want the pregnancy, and I convinced her not to terminate the pregnancy and that I’ll take full responsibility of him.”

He gazed up at Y/n, marveling at how her soft eyes still held the same affectionate gaze for him. He had grown accustomed to seeing the disappointment in people’s eyes so much that he had forgotten the warmth and comfort she brought into his life. Despite the disapproval from his closest friends and family, who believe it would be more convenient for both of them to end the pregnancy and avoid any commitments, he finds himself questioning their perspective.

But Toru was firm on his decision.

“For the entire pregnancy, she remained out of public eyes and out of work,” he opted out of disclosing how he had paid a hefty amount of money to support her lavish life during the nine months. Thankfully, Toru continued his career for another season and signed another contract with brand-name sponsorships. “I checked in with her daily to ensure the pregnancy was going well.” There were times Lucia wouldn’t respond to him, annoyed he was always bothering her when there was nothing new. “Mateo was born two weeks earlier but was the size of most newborns.”

Y/n asked, “Lucia didn’t want anything to do with you two?”

Toru shook his head, no longer sad when asked that question. “No, she didn’t want him from the beginning, and as soon as she could, she demanded a cesarean section to get him out of her.” He winced as he observed the heartbreak etched across her face. “Please don’t be sad,” he murmurs, trying to offer reassurance. Deep down, he believes this unexpected turn of events might be a disguised blessing. Though she chose not to be in the same room as Mateo after his birth, Toru felt a surge of determination as he cradled their child in his arms, making a silent vow that they would find a way to make things right.

“I’m proud of you, Toru.” Y/n quietly said with a heartfelt smile.

“Thank you for dinner and,” she lifted the bag in her hand, “sharing some of the leftovers.”

After their heart-to-heart talk, they realized it was close to 11 PM. Y/n began cleaning up as Toru went to set Mateo down for the night.

Toru rubs the back of his neck, “no, thank you for joining us,” and for everything.

Silence hung in the air to the unspoken words that lingered between them.

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with relief. “I want you to know that talking tonight has brought me so much comfort,” she confessed. As she moved to open the door, ready to leave, he called out her name, causing her to pause in her tracks.

Glancing back over her shoulders, she met his gaze and patiently awaited his words. Toru hesitated momentarily, holding his breath before he mustered a barely audible whisper, “can I… hug you?”

A flicker of surprise sparkled in her eyes, quickly replaced by a warm smile that reached her lips. Setting her bag down, she stepped forward, guided by an unspoken understanding. She nestled herself into his open embrace, her arms enveloping his waist tightly.

It lasted mere seconds, yet within that brief hug, it felt like they had encapsulated a lifetime of emotions, comfort, and understanding.

It was a simple act, but it held immense significance for two wounded souls searching for peace – a much-needed embrace for two broken people.

Y/n pulled away; her cheeks tinted pink as she rushed to grab her food and slip her shoes on. “I’ll s – see you around. Have a good night.” As she turned the doorknob to his unit, her movement abruptly stopped. Surprise ran through her veins as she looked at the towering figure standing before her unit, his gaze fixated directly on her. “Woojin?”

“What are you doing over there?” Woojin stepped forward and froze, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you know him?” Y/n looked over her shoulders, seeing Toru staring straight at Woojin.

The atmosphere is tense, and to add to that, she hears Mateo’s cry at a distance. “Go – I know him. He’s… a friend.”

Toru looks down at Y/n, “you sure?”

“Of course.” Swiftly, she placed a hand firmly against his chest, using her strength to push him back into his unit. With determination, she closed the door, creating a barrier between them. Turning her attention to Woojin, she gestures with a subtle nod, silently conveying her invitation for him to follow her into her unit.

. . .

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @rukia-uchiha-98 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @anejuuuuoy @tooruchiiscribs @mommyourcall420 @haikyuubiggestsimp @lilguycoded @random-734 @ghostlyneckoaftoad @abdce12345

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa tooru #oikawa fluff #oikawa angst #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu scenarios

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fandomunite2107 · 7 months

Text

Help Wanted (Pt. 3)

Summary: Finding your place at Carmy’s resturant after you are offered a job (again).

Carmy left your apartment after offering you a job. He needed to get back to the restaurant and you needed to get the rest of your boxes unpacked before you started your new job tomorrow. Before he left, you exchanged numbers and he took your uniform with him saying that he would drop it off at the restaurant that you got it from, but based on his expression you’re not actually sure it’s going to end up there.

As the afternoon turns into evening, you finally have all of the boxes unpacked and everything in its place. Looking around your apartment you feel a sense of accomplishment in everything that you have done within the last couple of days. Your apartment is cleaned, furnished, and all of the boxes are gone through. You also now have a job that will give you some income that you desperately need. Life is looking good at the moment.

Settling on your couch with your dinner, you turn on the tv and find a show to watch. Hearing your notification sound on your phone, you move a pillow or two to see who is texting you. Entering in your passcode, you see a message from Carmy.

*Just checking to make sure that you’re good to start tomorrow.* - Carmy

It takes you a good 5 minutes to write back a reply, hoping he doesn’t see the three dots repeatedly appear and disappear, as you keep deleting your response. You finally settle on a text and send it. You then proceed to check your phone for the next hour to see if there is a response, which there isn’t one.

Needing to be at the restaurant fairly early, you decide to try to get some decent sleep. Washing your dishes from dinner and turning off the tv and lights around your apartment, you start to get ready for bed. Setting your alarm for the morning and picking out an outfit that seems like it would work for a day of sorting papers, you plug your phone in by your bed and get in bed. It doesn’t take too long before you’re fast asleep, only waking up to the sound of your alarm hours later.

Feeling optimistic about the day, you get up and start to get ready. With breakfast eaten and you showered, you finish getting ready. As you grab your bag and cell phone and start to head towards the door you hear a roll of thunder. Looking out the window, you see that the sky is grey, but it doesn’t seem to be raining yet as the sidewalks still seem dry. Checking your weather app on the phone, it looks like there’s a very low chance of rain. Realizing that you don’t have an umbrella, you cross your fingers that the weather will hold out as you make your way to work.

You barely make it to the restaurant in time before a monsoon hits, buckets of water begin to fall down. You hope this nasty weather doesn’t last all day or else you may have to ask someone for a ride home. As you walk into the kitchen area of the restaurant, you see Sugar talking to Sydney.

“Hey you! Glad you’re back.” Sugar smiles when she notices you walking in with your bag. “I have a few things that I need to get done today, but I wanted to be here when you got here to help you get started.”

“Glad to be back.” You say, turning to Sydney. “Carmy not in yet? I figured he’s the type that beats everyone here.”

“Normally, but today he had to drop off a permit at city hall. Shouldn’t be too long.” Sydney says to you as she does her prep for the day.

“Let’s get started. I figured you could try to make sense of all of these piles in Carmy’s office and make an organizational system.” Sugar says as she walks towards the office.

As you follow her into the office and place your bag on the desk, you look around at the piles of papers around the room. Even though you love to organize you know that this is going to be a long process. Turning to Sugar you say, “Hey. I got this, really. You can go do your errands.”

“Are you sure?” She looks hopefully and really you’re kind of looking forward to doing this job on your own.

“Yes. Go. Enjoy your day.”

Picking up her bag and getting her phone and keys out, she rushes out of the restaurant with a quick goodbye to everyone. Skimming the piles of paper around the room, you make piles ranging in a variety of importance on the floor. After a while, you stand up and survey the work that you have done so far, feeling satisfied with what you have accomplished you want to stretch your legs. Walking out of the kitchen and into the front of the restaurant, you see Richie struggling with the crowd that has gathered for the lunch rush.

Richie sees you walk in, “Hey kid. Could use some help. Start bagging up the to go orders will ya?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Walking to the area with the sandwiches waiting to be bagged, you begin sorting through the orders. As you bag the orders and pass them out, you and Richie form a rhythm. You are one order away from finishing up with the lunch crowd, after bagging up the order you call for it to be picked up. A man comes up to the corner to grab the bag, smiling at you as he does. Once he picks up the bag and looks inside he looks up at you and says, “You forgot something.”

“Oh. Sorry about that. What’s missing?” Thinking back and trying to remember what his order was on his ticket.

“My number. You forgot to ask for my number.” The man leans on the counter, smiling as he closes up his bag.

“Smooth man.” You hear Richie say as he gives a nod to the customer.

Carmy picks this time to walk in from the kitchen. “What’s going on here? Why is y/n out front?”

“I was helping Richie out with the lunch crowd.” You say as you turn towards him.

“Cousin chill out. Just needed some help out here for a bit. It’s all good.” Richie states.

“I should get back to the paperwork.” You say, not wanting to cause an issue on your first day.

“Wait. You forgot my number.” Realizing the man was waiting on your response you turn to response to him, but Carmy beats you to it.

“She doesn’t need it. Enjoy your food.” Carmy tells the man as he leads you back into the kitchen.

“That was rude. He wasn’t hurting anything.” You say.

Carmy runs his hand down his face as Sydney approaches with a spoon of sauce. “Chef try this.”

Feeling as though the conversation is done, you head back into the office to get back to work. Hearing the sounds of the kitchen makes for oddly soothing background noise. You are able to go through another portion of the papers.

“Y/N!” A bit confused as to why Richie is yelling your name into the kitchen, you stand up and poke your head out of the office.

“Richie, what’s up?” You say, turning a small shade of red as everyone looks up from their station.

Richie smirks as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. “You, sweetheart, just got that customer’s number.”

“Ooooo. Was he cute?” Tina says as she cuts vegetables at her station.

“Richie. What the fuck are you doing?” Carmy says looking not too pleased about the situation.

“What?! Just passing along the information to our y/n here. He seemed like a good guy, he tipped well.” Richie says as he walks to you and hands you the paper.

Taking the paper and putting it in your back pocket, you feel as if you are being watched. Looking up you see Carmy giving you an expression that you can’t quite figure out. Figuring it’s best if you get back to work you head back into the office, trying to decipher what that look was and coming to the conclusion that it’s useless to try to understand.

———————

Taglist: @iletmytittiestitty-russ @formulas-bitch @lennaboo @soorwellystan @mrs-reeves-17 @eddiesguitarskills @anelissegets @onlyreadz

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear hulu #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x you

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hearts4golbach · 6 months

Text

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 25

the morning of the party, i decided to shower and shave. i had already planned my outfit, which was a black mini skirt with a top tara had given me that was cheetah print. it really wasn't my style, but she insisted i try it on and wear it to the party.

from the way Jake described it, the party was way less formal. in his words, "more like a college or high school party." i had never been allowed to go to one, so i wasn't really sure what to expect. comparatively, this party started much later than the couple i've been to in the past. this one started around 8:30. Jake explained that the party was going to be packed. that was nerve-racking to me when the other parties were usually not too packed and had not too many people. he warned me that there'd be more drugs than i even knew about, which i highly doubted, considering he didn't know my history. privately, Johnnie reassured me not to sweat it and that he'd be by my side the whole time.

it was about a week until my parents would be in town, and as each day passed, i grew more anxious about what they'd think of Johnnie. i knew if they didn't like him, i wouldn't care all too much, but i wanted them to. i hoped and prayed that they had calmed down a little since the last time i had seen them, but i highly doubted it. although they were getting older every day. they were both retired now, which meant that they'd be stuck in the house much more than they used to be, which hopefully helped them be less stressed all of the time. i assumed that was the main source of their problem, but i wasn't too sure.

i had changed into a comfier outfit and went to help tidy up the kitchen. i tossed my hair up in a clip and began to do dishes. i had my headphones in, quietly humming to music as i did so. i felt a hand wrap around my waist and a head lean on my shoulder, making me jump. i pulled a headphone out and whipped my head around, "well, good morning."

"Morning," Johnnies groggy voice responded before he went to go search through the fridge.

"So, thoughts on the party tonight?" i asked in an attempt to make conversation. i finished up the last of the dishes. i leaned against the counter, keeping him company as he made a packet of oatmeal.

"i mean, i'm excited, but it's whatever." he shrugged, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes. "Are you still nervous over what jake said?"

i shrugged, "not really. tara gave me an outfit for tonight. That's what i'm nervous about." i joked.

"Don't be, you look good in everything, baby." he kissed my cheek, leaning against the counter next to me as he waited for his oatmeal to cook in the microwave.

"Awe, thank you," i replied, genuinely not knowing what to say to the compliment. i set my arm on the counter behind him, "So do you."

"Stop it," he flicked his hand, exaggerating his voice before taking his breakfast out of the oven. he pecked my lips before leaving the kitchen and going back into our room.

i spent the next few hours on the phone with tara. we spoke about anything that came to our minds just to pass the time. whenever she hung up, i joined johnnie. he was sitting on his PC playing a game whenever i walked in. i snuck behind him in order to get to the bed. i curled up under the comfy blankets and scrolled on my phone, as well as ordered new supplies for the cafe. eventually, i ended up falling asleep on accident.

johnnie woke me up not long after, telling me i should probably start getting ready since him and jake were. i decided to (straighten/curl) my hair for this, even though i knew it'd be messed up by the end of the night. same with my makeup. i took extra time just to make sure it looked perfect. one of my biggest fears was people thinking i was too unattractive for johnnie. i knew he didn't think that, but i also didn't want him to be embarrassed of me. i knew i was overthinking it, obviously, but what's the harm in a little extra makeup?

i slipped off my outfit last thing, making sure all of the smallest details were perfect. my mother had always called me a perfectionist, i wonder where she thinks i got it from. my beat-up black Converse was the final touch since i was not about to wear heels to this supposed "rager."

whenever we arrived, i realized jake was severely over exaggerating. as we walked up to the front door, johnnies arm snaked around my waist. his hand squeezed the bare flesh of my side, making my heart feel as if it was about to explode. jake walked behind us, speaking to nearly everyone who passed by him. although, whenever we walked into the house, i also realized jake was right about some things. this bitch was packed. i scooted closer to johnnie to feel more secure. even though i knew there wasn't really a way i could, i was terrified of getting lost in all of these people.

"you alright?" johnnie raised his voice so i could hear him over the music.

jake nudged johnnie over so he could stand by him. "i can't believe tonight is my fucking turn to be designated driver. out of all the nights i could've bee-"

"oh, shut up. it's your turn, cry baby." i teased, "yeah, i'm alright." i flashed him a bright smile. "let's go find drinks to chug in front of jake." i grabbed johnnies hand and dragged him away.

we began to search for whatever type of bar they had set up, and we found it on the dining table. johnnie got jack and coke while i decided to try the drinks i had never seen before. i never really got out into the world of alcohol, anyway. we took our first sip together, resulting in us cringing at the same time.

as the night went on and more alcohol flooded into us, both of us got more touchy and confident than we ever were before. there was never a moment where johnnies hands weren't on me or vise versa. we sat together on the couch, surrounded by a group of loud girls and another group passing around a joint. his hand slid up and down from my hip to my waist and back again in a soothing motion as he spoke.

"i'm getting kind of tired," i lied, only wanting alone time with johnnie. my words slurred together. "do you think jake is about ready to go?"

his eyes flickered down to my lips before meeting my eyes again. "maybe, let's go find out. i'm ready to go too." i noticed his words were also slightly slurring together, as well as his eyes drooping.

i stumbled off the couch, gripping his arm tightly as a wat to drag him with me. Johnnie kept me upright as we searched for jake, even though he was just as tipsy as me. whenever we had found jake, he was out on the poarch smoking a cigarette.

"jake, can we go home?" i whined. he looked over at me, and his nose scrunched with disappointment. "Please, im so sleepy, and i do not want to sleep here for obvious reasons."

"i guess," he let out an exaggerated sigh as he pulled the car keys out of his pocket. "Let's go, love birds."

johnnie and i crawled into the back seat as Jake started the car. nobody spoke in the ride home, only listening to the radio. johnnie leaned against the window, watching as the cars sped past.

i leaned over to whisper in his ear so jake couldn't hear us. "What's on your mind?"

he glanced over before wrapping his arm around me, "You." he whispered back.

i smirked. "Really? what about me?"

"im keeping that a secret," he shrugged. "Just wait until we get home."

i sighed, accepting the fact that he wasn't going to tell me. i leaned my head on his shoulder until we got home. whenever we'd finally made it, we made short conversation with jake before rushing to our room.

the door was shut and locked, and johnnies lips were on mine. the kiss was passionate as our hands explored eachothers bodies as our tongues tangled together. his breath tasted of mint and alcohol, and im sure mine tasted the same.

our lips continued to glide together as he laid me back on the bed. i knew his intentions weren't sexual. i could feel it in the way he moved and breathed.

he pulled away, breathing heavily. his hair was a mess and his eyeshadow smudged. "youre so beautiful."

without commenting, i tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him in again. i placed my lips on his, holding him close before we eventually pulled away.

he was still trying to catch his breath as he lay in the bed next to me. he pulled me close before we both fell asleep.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #jake webber #johnnie and jake #johnnie guilbert smut #cafe aesthetic #cafe #café #fluff #the night shift #hearts4golbach

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thorfemmes · 1 year

Text

Now in Technicolor

part ii: "I found I could say things with color that I couldn't say any other way"

a/n: Surprise, I'm alive! This update has been a long time coming. I posted part one back in January, and then hit writer's block, and then my semester started, and then time just slipped away. but I'm on summer break so hopefully I should be able to write more! My ask box is always open for requests, headcannons, or just some fun chats about our favorite characters. I hope you enjoy!

read part i here

as always, reblogs, likes, and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Rated 18+: fem!reader x steddie, possible smut in the future, slight suggestive language (literally barely there), anxiety, brief mentions of nail biting and skin picking as nervous habits

Word Count: 2,667 words

When Steve woke up that Sunday morning he hadn't expected much. He had been called in to cover a shift last minute so he was dragging his feet all morning, upset that he had to miss out on breakfast with Robin and her new friend.

He quietly shrugged on the starchy green vest and crawled over his side of the bed to kiss Eddie goodbye.

Eddie groaned. "D'ya have to go? You weren't supposed to be scheduled," Eddie mumbled into his pillow, not opening his eyes.

Steve smiled softly. "I have to, baby. I called out last week so this shift will ensure a full paycheck for me".

"It's not my fault you called out".

"Oh definitely not. It's never your fault when you want to spend the day in bed".

Eddie opened one eye and smirked at Steve. "You weren't complaining when I fu-".

"Okay Eddie! I've gotta go, handsome. I'll see you this afternoon, yeah?"

"Of course. Bring home the bacon, babe!"

When Steve got off of work, he hadn't expected much. He stopped by Eddie's favorite Chinese restaurant and picked up food for an early dinner. Some Jade beef with extra steamed rice and a couple new movies sounded like a perfect night in for them.

When he got home, the front porch light wasn't on but Eddie's van was parked in the driveway.

"Hey Eds? I'm home," He shrugged off the vest and threw his keys in the dish on the front table. He walked into the kitchen and set the food on the counter. "Eddie?"

He heard a grunt come from the living room. He found Eddie sitting on the couch, his face in his hands and his leg bouncing up and down. Steve kneeled down in front of him and slowly rested his hands on Eddie's leg.

"What's wrong, Eddie?"

Eddie looked at Steve, eyes wide with stress. "I went to breakfast with Robin and Nancy this morning," Steve nodded. "And I met their new friend, Y/N. When we met, color flooded the rest of my vision".

Steve took a deep breath. "Okay..."

"I'm just… not sure what to do. I gave her my phone number so we could talk, but I wanted to talk to you. What does this mean for us?"

Steve glanced over Eddie's face. His eyes were glassy and his bottom lip was chewed raw. "Baby we've talked about this, it was bound to happen to one of us. Nothing is going to change unless all of us want it to. I still love you, do you still love me?"

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed. "Of course! It's just that, what if she's not your missing soulmate? Or what if she doesn't want me in her life since we're already together?"

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Did she say anything about us when you brought it up?"

Eddie shook his head. "No, not really. But she was cool with Robin and Nancy so I'm assuming she's cool with us. It's just different, obviously".

"Obviously," Steve smiled softly. "Let's just give her some time to settle. We can't worry about something that hasn't happened yet. You just met her today, I haven't even met her yet. Let's just relax and eat the Chinese food that I brought home before it gets cold. Whatever happens is meant to happen, it's out of our control now".

Eddie took a deep breath to steady himself. "Okay Stevie, it's your turn to pick the movie tonight". Steve reached up and gave him a quick kiss before heading to the kitchen.

Across town, Y/N was eerily quiet. She had been since breakfast. Rather than heading home, she headed for the nearest Goodwill and went straight to the book section. Scanning the shelves, she came across a book meant for newly found soulmates. One that could help her identify the colors around her. She quickly picked up the book, along with one on color theory (though truth be told she had no idea what that meant) and went to the register, thankful that it was a bored teenager ringing her up rather than a chatty old lady that would no doubt question her purchases.

She drove home, probably faster than she should have. She quickly ran into her apartment, locking the door behind her. She scanned her living room, now blotched with color. Various unnamed shades poked through her vision, overwhelming her. She wasn't sure if it was the colors that were overstimulating her, or the newfound knowledge that she had more than one soulmate wandering the earth. For most people, finally finding a soulmate was easy. You meet, you get to know each other, you fall in love, the end. What was she supposed to do with a soulmate that was already in love with someone else, with his soulmate. A soulmate that wasn't her. All of this made her head pound. She threw the book on the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She rummaged through her cabinets until she found some ibuprofen. A nap and a handful of Advil will do her some good.

Eddie hadn't heard from Y/N in almost two weeks. He had gone back and forth debating whether he should ask Robin for her phone number, but ultimately decided not to. It was up to her to reach out to him, and in her own time. Though truth be told life carried on as normal. Steve continued to complain about the middle schoolers trying to sneak rated R movies out of the store, Eddie continued to bar back at a local restaurant, and the two boys continued to build their lives together. The only thing that has changed is Eddie's ability to fully see color. He could tell Steve what matched and what didn't. He encouraged him to wear more yellows and browns that looked great with his slight tan and rosy cheeks. He also stopped Steve from wearing that god awful orange polo shirt with the green vest because c'mon Stevie, you have to know what an eyesore that is, even with your limited colored vision.

When she finally did call, Eddie wasn't home. Steve was getting out of the shower that evening, greeted by the shrill rings of their telephone. Sitting down on the bed still in his towel, he answered with a simple hello?

"Hi, is Eddie there?" A soft voice came through the phone.

"No he's not, may I ask who's calling?"

"Oh! Um, it's Y/N".

Steve stood up a little straighter. "Hey Y/N, it's Steve". The other end went silent. "Hello?"

She cleared her throat. "Hey, yeah. I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you to pick up, but now that I'm thinking about it, it makes perfect sense. Of course you guys live together, you're soulmates, why wouldn't you? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. Please tell Eddie I won't bug him again, I-"

"Hey, hey slow down. You're perfectly fine, there's no reason to worry. Eddie's just at work, but I can tell him you called?"

She nodded, "Yeah, that would be great. Thank you".

"Of course. And hey, Y/N? I meant what I said, there's nothing to worry about. We're both excited to get to know you -if that's what you want".

"Thank you, I appreciate it. Let me give you my number".

After the phone call with her, Steve called Eddie at work.

"Hey baby, is something wrong?" Eddie was a bit worried. The last and only time Steve had called him at work was to let him know that he wouldn't be home for dinner because he was in the ER with Lucas who had a broken nose after a basketball incident.

"Yeah everything's okay. I just wanted to let you know that Y/N called. I'm not sure when you'll be home, so I wanted to let you know before I head to bed".

Eddie let out a slow breath. "Okay, thank you for letting me know. Sleep well, Stevie".

It was well past midnight when Eddie got home. He quietly meandered around the house, peeking through the pantry and fridge for a late night snack. He grabbed the quart of juice from the fridge and drank straight from the carton, something Steve would've chided him for. Nothing they had in the house sounded all that appealing to him, but his attention was quickly drawn away from eating by an empty envelope with Steve's chicken scratch on it.

Y/N's phone number, it read. Give her a call when you're ready, she's just as nervous as you. Xoxo.

Eddie let out a small laugh at the sign off. The microwave read 1:37 am, surely it was too late to call her? Something urged him to though, a small voice in the back of his head inviting him to the telephone in their living room. He sat down on the arm of the couch and pressed her number into the dial pad. Eddie immediately regretted the decision until she picked up after two rings.

"Hello?" She sounded almost hesitant, wondering who on earth was calling at this hour.

"H-hey," He cleared his throat. "Hey, it's Eddie".

"Hey Eddie," She whispered.

"How are you doing?" He cringed inwardly. Was he supposed to make small talk or cut to the chase?

She huffed out a small laugh, "I'm doing well, you?"

"I'm doing well," He paused. "This is awkward, right? It's not just me?"

"It's a little awkward, yeah. Um, what are you doing up so late?"

"I just got off work, I hope I didn't wake you up or anything".

She shook her head in response. "No, don't even worry about it. I couldn't sleep anyways. What do you do for work?"

"I bar back at Paolo's down on 10th street".

"Oh! I've been meaning to try that place. Is the food any good? I know there's a town-wide debate on whether Enzo's or Paolo's is better".

Eddie smiled again. "The food’s really good, but I may be biased. Enzo's was a little too stuffy for me. They wanted me to cut my hair and cover up my tattoos even though I work in the back of the house".

"Yeah, that sucks. I'm glad you found a place that works for you".

A minute passed by before either person talked.

"So I-".

"I think-"

They fumbled over each other's words.

"You first," Eddie said.

"I've been thinking, and I'd like to get to know you a little better. And Steve if he's comfortable with it. I'd like to have my soulmate -or one of them, I guess -be a part of my life".

Eddie sat up a little straighter on the air chair. "I'd like that, I'd like that a lot. Steve and I are both off on Thursday if you'd like to meet then? Just something easy like over coffee".

"Something easy, I'd like that. I get out of class around 2:00 pm, so maybe we could meet at 3:00 pm? I go to school outside of Hawkins so it'll give me time to drive over to you guys".

"Sounds perfect, sweetheart".

Eddie was going to have a heart attack. His anxiety was bouncing off the walls leading up to his meeting with Y/N. What does one wear to introduce one of your soulmates to your other soulmate? What if your soulmates hate each other? What if Steve isn't her missing soulmate? The mental gymnastics of even processing that he has to introduce two separate soulmates to each other was exhausting. Before it was all hypothetical; He didn't know if she wanted to be in his life, in fact he had assumed not since he hadn't heard from her. But now? Now Eddie had to face reality and jump over this hurdle.

Steve, on the other hand, was calm and collected. Almost too calm for Eddie's liking. He just went about his day normally. Sat and drank his coffee and watched the morning news. He got dressed without a second thought. He was eerily calm. Even on the drive to the coffee shop, Steve calmly drove with a supportive hand on Eddie's thigh. Meanwhile, Eddie was biting his nails down to the quick.

Across town, Y/N had already arrived. She bolted out of class and ended up getting there 20 minutes early. She saved a table near the back of the cafe. She debated whether she should order or wait for the boys, but ultimately decided to wait. To be completely honest, Y/N had no idea how she was going to stomach a drink during this meeting. She didn't know if she was more anxious about seeing Eddie again or meeting Steve. Selfishly, she hoped Steve was her other soulmate. It would make everyone's life easier. And if he wasn’t her other soulmate? Well, that’s a whole separate shitstorm to navigate. Let’s not get caught up on that right now. You have enough stress bottled up as is. Any more might shatter the glass.

She was jolted from her racing thoughts by the bell on the cafe’s door ringing out. She looked up and saw Eddie holding open the door for another man. A slightly shorter, more muscular man that was just as handsome as Eddie.

She quickly waved them over and stood up to greet them. “Hey Eddie, it’s nice to see you again”.

Eddie offered a soft smile. “Yeah, same. This is Steve. Steve, this is Y/N”.

She offered a small wave, too nervous to shake his hand and confirm their soulmate status so early in their meeting. Steve understood, keeping his hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N”.

“Cool,” Eddie cleared his throat. “So, I’m going to go order for us. Y/N, do you want anything?”

“Oh, it’s okay! I can go with and order”.

“Please, I insist”.

She looked into his soft eyes, getting nothing but kindness back from him. Chancing a glance at Steve, she received the same look of patience and kindness from the man. She nodded and told him her order.

With Eddie standing in a line across the room, there was no longer a buffer between Steve and Y/N. Steve quietly motioned back to the table. They sat down, an intimidating silence fell over them. She picked at the skin around her thumbnail while Steve’s leg bounced -both of them filled with nerves. It was Steve who finally broke the silence.

“So, uh,” He started. She quickly looked up at him, giving her full attention. “Robin and Eddie tell me that you’re in school? Well, mostly Robin, but yeah”.

She nodded with a soft smile. “Yeah I am. I’m almost done, thankfully”.

“Cool, cool”. Another silence fell over them.

“H-how,” She cleared her throat, when did it get so dry? “How did you and Eddie meet?”

“Technically, through mutual friends. We had crossed paths in high school, but we really didn’t talk to each other until after I graduated. I was kind of a dick in high school, so we wouldn’t have gotten along much anyway”.

“The universe has a weird way of doing that. Throwing people into our lives when we least expect it”.

Steve smiled. “Yeah, yeah it does”.

The rest of their coffee date went rather smoothly. Y/N learned a lot about Steve and Eddie, and vice versa. She learned about Eddie's uncle, Wayne, who raised him as his own from a young age; and, that he had an affinity for thrash metal -especially Metallica and Anthrax -fantasy books, and DnD. She learned about Steve's upbringing and that while his parents were in his life, they were never truly involved or all that interested in actually being a parent. Steve's music taste varied, loving anything from the Beastie Boys to Simple Minds to Bruce Springsteen; and, while he would never openly admit it to anyone else, he secretly loved Tiffany's music. They learned about your family and your relationship with them. They thought it was interesting that you chose Hawkins of all places to settle down for college. Your music taste was also eclectic, but Eddie continually teased you about liking Madonna (Steve had to hold his tongue from calling Eddie out on loving "Vogue" and her Like a Prayer album). When it was finally time for them to part, Eddie offered a small hug, to which Y/N softly accepted. When they separated, she turned and offered a shaky hand out to Steve. He took a deep breath and shook her hand.

Time seemed to stand still again. Color flooded the rest of their vision. What was once murky grays and blobs of pigment quickly became a full painting with every shade imaginable.

Eddie looked at the two of you, hope sparkling in his eyes. “Well?”

Y/N and Steve shared a grin.

“Well, life just got a whole lot easier for the three of us”.

thank you so much for reading! more to come soon! <333

taglist: @alexxavicry @marvelous-musicals @kbakery @sillypurplemurple @munsonology @sidthedollface2 @sunnygrey99 @sigh-mon-says @pastelbabygirl19 @sleepy-bunny @bethanysnow @sllooney @cottagecori @saramelaniemoon @bestofbucky @luvrsbian @shotgunhallelujah @tiannamortis @hazydespair (please lmk if I missed you!)

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 years

Text

Imagine Waiting For Shanks To Return To Tell Him Surprising News

Shanks X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes and a dagger is involved

Word Count: 1.7k

(A/N:) Hello readers! I should finally start getting back into the swing of things now that Christmas is here! I’ve missed writing so much and I have ideas I’ve been wanting to write especially about One Piece. Back in November I had went to see Red and to made me fall in love with the story. So now I have started reading and watching One Piece and Shanks and Zoro are my faves. So I’m starting out with Shanks but I have an idea for Zoro and an idea for Sanji so just keep an eye out hopefully I can write those soon! But I am still learning about this universe so mostly these imagines are just for funsies so don’t take them too seriously! X3 But it feels good to write again and I look forward to posting more! So until next time happy reading! ~Countess

You stood upon the shore of Foosha Village’s port watching the horizon as you did every evening as the sun began to set in the sky. The salty waves crashing the shore sent droplets of water to spatter against the hem of your flowing gown as the breeze billowed your hair behind you tangling it just enough that you would have to brush it when you got home. Nobody of the village would bother you at these moments, as you were waiting and hoping for Shanks to return and soon. Usually you were on the boat with him just another piece of his large crew. But the last time he docked at Foosha you were ill and couldn’t get well in time for him and the crew to set sail. So he left you with a house upon a private cove overlooking the ocean to see when he sailed in and in the care of Makino as he knew that she would take the best of care of you until you were well again.

“You won’t be long,” you had asked him weakly.

He gave a gentle smile with a hint of sadness, “I’ll try my best. Wait for me to return upon that far horizon.”

“Okay,” you whispered falling back to sleep to escape another bout of nausea.

That had been six months ago and now you stood upon the sand watching and waiting with a protective hand over your swollen belly. Makino had fetched the village doctor when you hadn’t improved in several days and that’s when your pregnancy was revealed. Wedded to the notorious red haired pirate and now mother to said pirate’s child. You were nervous about how Shanks would take the news when he finally returned, yes he already had an adopted daughter in Uta, but having a baby while he was so busy was something you were afraid he wouldn’t accept. You also feared he’d leave you behind once more, only to never return leaving you alone to raise the child that he helped create.

You kicked at the sand in frustration as the familiar ship didn’t part the horizon like you hoped. As the temperature began to drop as the sun sank lower you shivered, you decided to go back home. Your older more comfortable clothes no longer fit thanks to your large stomach so you had to make do with the flowing gowns Makino dredged up for you. With soup bubbling in the pot above the fire you dished some out and ate before deciding to just go ahead and sleep. You hadn’t been able to sleep much lately as the baby was beginning to grow more restless and keeping you awake for majority of the night with their squirming and moving. It didn’t take long for you to slip into dreamless sleep as the exhaustion was starting to get too much to bear.

Shanks knew that you wouldn’t be awake at this hour but he had pushed his crew to make it back to you tonight. He had been gone a lot longer than he intended, and while he knew you would understand he couldn’t help but still feel that pang of guilt deep inside. Since getting to know each other you both hadn’t left each other’s sides in so long. So leaving you alone without anyone there at all times of the day was a horrible feeling he never wanted to repeat. His bed in his captains' quarters had never been colder since he had to leave you behind. Now as his crew were about ready to drop he had them rush through docking the ship and making preparations to stay for at least a few days. He had much catching up to do with you and preparing you and all the supplies for an extra person tagging along once more.

With the familiar boat docked in the bay he searched for you, it was late but he was sure that you would still be up looking for his return. When you didn’t show up rushing towards him with open arms Shanks gave his men free rein to do whatever they pleased (as he knew they wouldn’t take advantage of the good people of Foosha) he made his way towards the place he had bought you to stay. Upon the top of the cove he saw your place all dark and lifeless. He couldn’t stop the panic welling in his chest as horrible thoughts came to his mind. Surely you were okay? Shanks rushed in catching the door with his one hand before it could bang against the wall, while he was losing his mind he knew that there could still be the possibility that you were just sleeping. His worries eased as he saw the freshly dirty dishes and the smoldering fire in the hearth, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he saw you. So to the bedroom he went where the sight that he beheld made him suck in a breath. There you laid, sleeping peacefully, warm blankets pulled to your chin. Though covered he could tell the difference in your form. Gone was the shape of the woman who was used to fighting, sailing, and climbing. Now you were round and soft and Shanks knew that the feelings that were rolling under the surface wasn’t just from seeing you for the first time in forever.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that you were pregnant and heavily so. He sat on the edge of the bed not really wanting to wake you but having a hard time controlling his self. Reaching out with a calloused hand he brushed hair from your open mouth. Your face scrunched and you mumbled something he couldn’t make out, it made him chuckle. You immediately went into action, hand rushing to underneath your pillow, you pulled a dagger out holding it to his throat in a threatening motion.

“Who are you,” you snarled ready to slit your intruder’s throat.

“Hello to you too beautiful,” Shanks chuckled again and the dagger was dropped immediately.

“Shanks??”

“Yeah,” he sighed gathering you in his arm, “it’s me sweetheart.”

“Sorry that your first greeting back was a blade to your throat.”

“Not the worst greeting I’ve ever received,” he smiled cupping your cheek. “It’s good to know that you never lost those reflexes that you honed all those years sailing with me.”

“Well,” you pinched his cheek, “I can’t spoil my husband’s good name by being weak.”

“You’ve never been mistaken for weak and never will be. I’m the idiot who left you though in this condition.”

You hung your head ashamed, “We didn’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t send word to you. I was afraid you wouldn’t be happy.”

“How could I not be happy?! This is amazing and such a surprise. Who knew your sickness was just symptoms from being pregnant?”

“I’m sure the rocking boat didn’t help with the puking and bouts of nausea.”

“Yeah we rocked the boat ourselves on several occasions that’s what got you into this state in the first place,” the mischievousness in his gaze was not lost on you.

“Shaaaaaanks,” you whined punching his shoulder.

“Kidding,” he kissed you softly. “But not really, cause it is the truth.”

Moments passed by quietly as you just held one another basking in the presence that you both missed greatly. The sound of the ocean outside your little home bringing back so many memories over the years you both had spent on the high seas together. It was just a perfect moment that Shanks knew he had to interrupt, though he didn’t want to.

“Want to go see the crew,” he asked breaking the peace. “They’ve missed you almost as much as I have.”

Though your body was exhausted and you were embarrassed about how big you have grown, you couldn’t deny your red haired pirate or his lovable crew. “I need to change into something warmer and can you help me get there? The walk has been getting more difficult in my state.”

“You don’t even need to ask.”

Shanks held your hand tightly as he helped you down some of the steep slopes to the sandy beach below. While your little cove away had seemed so cold and lonely the last few months, this was the first time in awhile you enjoyed the walk with the warm hand squeezing yours with gentle pressure. Life without Shanks around was boring but mostly it was lonely. His warming presence was something you never really thought about until it wasn’t around. And whatever fear that had been pressing upon you, keeping you from enjoying watching your baby grow within you dissipated with his contagious grin. His ship came into view and you could see the guys buzzing back and forth taking care of the ship’s needs before theirs. You glared at your sheepish husband at seeing how exhausted his men were.

“I couldn’t help it,” he defended himself. “I was desperate to see you and so were they.”

“Treat them to a good meal tomorrow and some good ale,” you elbowed him.

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed wanting to stay in your good graces. As soon as the hard working crew spotted you with their captain a roaring cheer lifted into the night sky. You could have sworn the ship rocked even harder than the waves crashing against it with the excited men. You laughed using Shanks as a sturdy crutch as you waddled across the shifting sand. They tossed themselves overboard stampeding toward you and Shanks. Shanks pulled you protectively into his side bracing you behind him just in case his rambunctious men got out of control. But as soon as they saw your condition they skidded to a stop in awe. “Surprise,” you teased sheepishly. Silence passed before a loud roar sounded out and several sharp slaps to Shanks back left him staggering and his back stinging. Some of the men softly asked if they could touch their stomach, as they were remembering pregnant wives at one point in their lives. You agreed tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as they accepted you and the little one inside. It felt so good to have your husband and friends back and you couldn’t wait to get back onto the seas sailing with your family with a new addition in tow.

#Shanks X Reader #Shanks / Reader #Shanks #One Piece #Shanks Imagine #One Piece Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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luveline · 2 years

Note

I’m in love with steve zombie au! maybe readers having a really down day and steve has a gift for her? something he found on his last supply run or they’re on one together and he gives her something, ily!

tysm for ur request! ily! ♡ fem!reader zombie!au

The kitchen cabinet closes with a very neat click. It's an amazing sound. Astounding, even. Steve might say it was one of his favourite sounds in the whole world, though what comes next trumps them all. You laugh, an off-kilter sound but a laugh all the same.

He's so relieved he can physically feel the nausea of his worry abate.

"What's funny?" he asks.

Your face flickers between downturned and ironic. "I was just thinking, and I know this is weird- But I think I miss doing the dishes."

Steve laughs. It's not what he'd been expecting you to say.

"The dishes?" he repeats questioningly, leaning back against the countertop behind him to fix you with a look of fond amusement.

"I know, it's dumb." You push your freshly washed hair from your face and stare at him. Steve suspects you might be staring through him, mind somewhere else. Sure enough, you shake your head and clarity returns, frown worsening. "It's stupid. I just- just miss everything about it. Eating at the table, putting them away. Having somewhere to put them away."

He understands. How could he not? Steve's been with you almost since the beginning of the line, and he knows you're both more than old enough to have lived vibrant, simple lives chock full of creature comforts before all of this.

"I miss changing the sheets on my bed," he says.

He doesn't need to expand.

He misses having a bed that was his. He misses sleeping in the same bed so much that he needed to change the sheets. He misses the sound of the washing machine, white noise.

You cover your eyes with both hands, the meat of your palms hooked under your eyebrows.

"I shouldn't think about it."

"Maybe not." Steve walks toward you until his shoes bump yours. Another thing to miss — taking off his shoes. "But I get it. I promise."

"I know you do. Sorry, I'm being childish."

Steve couldn't agree any less. He doesn't think it's childish to want to go back to before the apocalypse began. When he knew where all of his friends where and that they were alive. He misses Robin so badly it's like somebody cut one of his bones out and the wound healed over without anything to heal over. Just a lump of nothing where she used to be.

But he'd only go back with the stipulation that you could go with him.

"Know what I miss more?" he asks.

"What?" you ask, dropping your hands.

"I miss knowing what day it is. What did we decide? It's nearly Christmas, right?"

You shrug, clearly unaware of his scheming. "Maybe late November? I think when the sun starts to set earlier we'll know."

Because neither of you has any clue about timekeeping you've taken to best guesses and approximations. Steve's watch displays the time, and if it's still working properly — which you both prefer to assume it is — that means the sun has been setting at around 6.30PM for a few days now. Hence, November. Hopefully.

"Wanna pretend it's December?" he asks.

You smile. It's a funny thing. Steve supposes you're not used to him making many jokes. He's trying to be better.

"What for?" you ask suspiciously.

"It's in my bag," he says, nodding his head back to the living room.

You follow him into the living room. Windows boarded with two layers of plywood, you and Steve have to light a candle to see even in the day. He gestures for you to sit on the opposite side of the coffee table and sets a red candle between you. It smells like pomegranates. He'll probably never eat pomegranate ever again. He tries really hard not to think about it, instead focusing in on your face, illuminated by yellow light.

He can't help thinking about how pretty you are.

"I got this at Morgan Mall. Where you-"

"Almost died in a walk-in freezer?"

He has the good graces to wince, hands coveting a small parcel box from the depths of his rucksack. "Right."

"What is it?" you ask as he procures the box.

He slides it across the table. "Open it."

Steve gets mad whenever he thinks about Morgan Mall, and the abject fucking horror when you'd started screaming. It had been fear like nothing he'd ever felt, not the first time he'd seen a geek, not even the first time he'd killed one. He can see it clearly, his desperate hands on the door handle, pulling until his knuckles had turned ivory white.

He'd quite liked the moments after, though. Your hug. Your lips covered in chocolate pudding, sitting across from him on the couch shaking but unquestionably alive.

"It's a Christmas present," he begins, watching your cut up fingertips dig under the small box's lip. "So remember you had it. I can't afford another one."

A joke that won't land. Everything is too raw today, and that's alright.

"I hope you like it," he says honestly.

You ease the lid off.

It's a necklace. Silver chain, short enough that the chances of somebody getting their fingers under it and pulling you are low.

"Is that real?" you ask.

"I think."

It's a very simple necklace. Short chain and a small diamond.

"A diamond?"

"I had to smash open a display case."

Your head snaps up. "You did not."

"No, I didn't," Steve says, chuckling at your shocked expression, "obviously I didn't."

"Obviously," you repeat. Steve suspects he'd find your cheeks flushed with heat if he knelt over the table and tried it. Something inside of him begs him to. Just- Just lean over. Hold her face.

"I don't know if you wore anything before," he says.

"I've never had a diamond."

Steve likes that, shamefully. It's a nice feeling to be the first person to give you a diamond. It doesn't mean anything now that money's worthless, but back then it might've signified something different.

"Do you want me to help?" he asks, worried. You haven't taken it out of the box.

"What if I break it?"

"I'm sure I can find you another one."

You take the diamond between two fingers and rub at it with your thumb. Whatever it is that you feel, you enjoy. A smile spreads over your lips.

Steve pulls himself beside you and you turn. Back to him, you pull the necklace carefully from its black velveting and hand it over without looking.

He sits up to drape it over your chest and then pulls the ends together until the diamond is perched a centimetre below your collarbones. He has to try extremely hard to get the clasp open. His heart rate hikes up a touch as his thumbnail flicks against the clasp, trying to keep it open.

He finally gets it closed and let's it fall against your neck. You look down immediately.

"It's so sparkly," you murmur.

He bites his lip to stop from smiling. Self-satisfied doesn't suit him, not anymore.

Steve places a hand at your neck and stands, brushing his fingers tenderly up the curve until the very last second. "Let's have dinner, yeah? We'll eat on plates. You can even wash them afterward, if you want to."

He can hear your smile. "Do I look like somebody who does dishes? I have a diamond."

Steve makes a meagre but not totally awful dinner for the both of you and you eat it side by side, sharing a book you'd found in the bedroom. He knows you're waiting for him to catch up, your eyes stuck at the bottom of the page.

He keeps getting distracted by your hand on your thigh, so close to his own. While your busy flipping to the next page, he reaches out with his pinky to tap yours.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You tap back. "Why wouldn't I be?" you ask.

It's an awful attempt at redirection. You're terrible at hiding your feelings. Steve likes that, too.

"You're reading really slowly tonight."

"I am not! Shithead, you're the one holding us up."

"Sorry, some of us actually had fun in high school."

You glare at him. It's not convincing, your lips pinched up into a contagious grin.

more steve zombie!au

#steve zombie!au #zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic

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angryschnauzer · 2 years

Text

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 2

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Warnings: None for this chapter

Chapter 1

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Wordcount: 2699

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

Chapter 2

Sy looked in the back of his truck, mentally ticking off what he needed to take with him to harvest the Lavender. He had shears and a scythe, a whole load of old flour sacks to load it into. He also grabbed his Go-pro in the hope she would be ok filming it, the smoker to calm the bees and hopefully get them to stay away from the plants long enough to harvest, plus his netted hat as dozy bees had a tendency to try and find their way into hair, ears, anywhere they could settle down for a snooze. A quiet woof followed by the sound of a metal bowl hitting the driveway caught his attention, turning to see Akia patiently sitting at the side of the truck;

“Oh you want to come too? Do you think she’s going to be there to give you belly rubs the whole time?”

“Awoo”

“Hmmm, me first girl, me first…” Sy mused as he moved the basket of produce he’d gathered for you from his stock so a furry snout didn’t try to get at anything in it; “You need to be on your best behaviour. No peeing on her flowers, don’t poop in her yard, go into the meadow to do it. Okay, put your water bowl in the truck and you can get in”

Sy nodded his head to the open door, watching as Akia picked up her water bowl and set it into the passenger footwell, before she jumped up onto the passenger seat. Leaving her in the truck, Sy gathered the last few things he needed before locking the door and climbing into the vehicle. Suddenly remembering one last thing he ran back into the cabin, appearing seconds later with a bundle under his arm which he set on the back seat;

“No, not for you girl”

The dog let out a snort before settling back to sleep on the seat in the sunshine as Sy started the engine and backed off the driveway.

You saw Sy pull onto your driveway as you’d been folding laundry, quickly putting it away before you smoothed your dress down and made your way outside.

“Hey, do you need any help?”

Greeting you with a warm smile he reached into his truck and pulled out a basket, handing it to you;

“You can take this? Its just a few things to say thank you”

At a quick glance at the basket you counted at least four jars of honey, a small bottle of honey liquor, and a set of pillar candles.

“Oh, and this…”

Sy set a parcel around the size of a house brick wrapped in a clean linen dish towel on top of the basket, lifting the fabric for you to see;

“Honey bread?!”

“Freshly baked this morning”

“I saw!”

“You saw?”

“On your instagram… it was the first thing i saw when i woke up and it certainly gave me an appetite!”

“Well glad i could be of service” Sy laughed as he lifted things out of the flat bed back of the truck; “Are you ok if i set the camera up to film harvesting the Lavender? So I can use it for social media?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, do you need anything else?”

At that moment Akia jumped out of the cab, her metal bowl held in his mouth;

“Are you ok with Akia being here whilst i work? She’s agreed to go potty in the meadow, she brought her water bowl”

Laughing you nodded;

“Sure thing” turning to the house you called over your shoulder; “C’mon Akia, let me fill that water bowl up, it's going to be a hot afternoon”

You had not been wrong when you’d said it was going to be hot, however the temperature was somewhat raised even more so once you saw Sy working. You had tried to keep out of his way, not wanting to interrupt but also not wanting to be overtly obvious in watching him work. Instead you found your book and took a seat on the covered porch where the breeze from the front of the building came through the clematis that hung over the roof, you could see some of the garden but not all of it.

After half an hour Akia had come up to the porch and lay by your feet, before you’d patted the spare side of the bench seat and she’d carefully climbed up, immediately rolling onto her back with her head in your lap as you absentmindedly gave her belly scratches between turning pages of your book. The book however was eventually rested open on your lap, instead you watched Sy work as he used the smoker to placate the bees, your attention drawn to the way his t-shirt clung to his back in the heat, the way his jeans fit snugly around his ass. Far too many minutes passed as you gratuitously watched him work, but thankfully you noticed he was coming to the end of the Lavender bushes, so you decided to grab some cold drinks.

As you were returning to the shade of the porch a few minutes later, you saw Sy turn as you set the tray down, waving him over as you poured a tall glass of iced tea, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. He took the steps to the porch in one stride, a smile on his face as he pulled his bee keepers netted hat off and wiped his hands on his jeans as you handed him the glass;

“Thanks. Hot work out there”

“Hmm-mmm” you sipped your drink, not wanting to say what had entered your mind, and thankfully Akia saved the moment. With a yawn and stretch the pooch climbed off the seat and came to sit by Sy’s feet.

“Oh, okay then” he signed, lifting an ice cube out of his drink and feeding it to the dog who proceeded to happily crunch it; “That good girl?”

“Rrrrrr”

“Does she want some ice cubes in her water bowl?”

“WOOF”

“I think that’s a yes, if it's alright?” Sy answered

Quickly running inside you filled a bowl with cubes from the freezer before returning and dumping them into her water bowl as promised. The dog happily crunched and drank, before trotting off through your yard and disappearing into the meadow.

“So, have the bees gotten off the bushes? I presume that’s what you were doing with the smoke…”

Sy nodded and turned to look out over your garden;

“Yeah, they are quite sleepy now, most have disappeared into the grasses, the few that are left will probably head into your clematis”

You looked over your garden before turning back to Sy;

“I imagine you have to be quite a horticulturalist when working with bees. How did you get into it in the first place?”

Sy smiled at you as he sipped his drink, considering his words;

“Used to be a First Responder with the fire department until I got injured on the job and was medically retired… but I was close to burn out anyway; city life, the drive to succeed and push myself ever further and further. The injury and recovery gave me time to reconsider life and goals. Took my payout and moved out here. The hives came with the cabin and seemed like a fun hobby whilst i tried to figure out what to do next… turns out they were what i was to do next”

He grabbed the pitcher of iced tea and offered it to you first, filling your glass before he refilled his own;

“What about you? What brought you to this sleepy little town?”

“Same as you; recovery, a new start. A chance to start afresh and decide my own path. My job means i can work from home”

“What do you do?”

“I write exam papers and tests… you know, the standardised ones that you take in Middle School and High School. Mostly in Math…”

Sy laughed;

“Oh, so you’re responsible for the ‘if someone buys 8 watermelons and gives someone else two, but then doubles their quantity at the next market’ type questions”

“Yeah, that’s me”

Sy drained his glass before setting it onto the tray, and with a sigh he nodded to the lavender;

“Well, i’d better get working before the bees wake up”

“No worries, i have some questions i need to work on, just give me a shout if you need anything”

“Thanks”

Your plans for working the rest of the afternoon all but failed. You had made a valiant effort to start, bringing your laptop out to the bench seat, but the moment you’d looked up and realised Sy had taken his shirt off and was steadily and rhythmically using the sharp scythe to harvest the lavender into small haystacks you were done for. You were mesmerised by the way his back muscles rippled, by the way his arms and shoulders were sculpted. Every now and again you could see a rivulet of perspiration slowly run down his back, and you had to clench your thighs together to try and quell the arousal that was ever growing between your legs.

Gratuitously watching Sy work you had been thankful you were somewhat hidden by the shade of the porch, knowing full well that if you even attempted to step off it you’d probably combust from how turned on you were. By late afternoon the yard was mostly in the dappled shade of the fruit trees that grew alongside the meadow, a warm breeze in the air as you saw Akia coming back from exploring for a good hour in the fields. Grabbing a bowl of ice cubes you dumped them into her water bowl just as she came padding across the lawn, her tongue hanging out. Giving her a brief head scratch before she discovered her ice bowl, you missed that Sy had finished his task, tying the sacks together so he could load the bales into his truck;

“All done” glancing up from Akia you saw Sy approaching, trying your best not to look at his wide chest, his body rippling and toned from manual labour.

“What will you do with it?”

Sy mopped his brow with his t-shirt, looking at the mass of bales in front of him;

“First I'll dry it, then thresh it to get the blooms off the stems. I'll be adding it to candles and wax melts, perhaps have a look into making those bath fizz things. Honey and lavender is known for being a great combination that sells well” At that moment Akia let out an exaggerated huff, before going back to panting with her tongue hanging out; “Hey, do you mind if I use the hose on Akia? When she spends a long time out in the sunshine she can get a bit overheated”

“Sure, the faucet is just round the corner of the porch. Hey, did you want to stay for dinner? If you like… i just thought you’ve been working all day - on your weekend no less - i’ve got more than enough for two”

“That’d be really nice, thanks” Sy had a hold of Akia's collar as you left, watching you head inside. Turning to his dog he quickly knelt down to her level;

“Okay, so we’ll be having dinner here girl, i’m sure she’ll have something you can have, but you need to be on your best behaviour, no begging at the table, no creepy staring and drooling at the same time, yeah?”

“Rrrrrr”

“C’mon, lets get that hose on you, you stinky beast”

As you had prepared the steaks and salad you watched out of the kitchen window as Sy hosed Akia down, almost chopping your finger off as he turned the hose on himself, flicking his head back and shaking the droplets off, to which they caught the low late afternoon sunshine like droplets of gold;

“Oh fuck… I'm in so much trouble…” you muttered to yourself.

When you emerged from the back door with a tray of raw steaks and utensils Sy had pulled on his t-shirt and was now sporadically squirting the hose so that Akia could run through the droplets and try and catch them with her mouth. Setting the tray down beside the grill you checked the tank before firing up the heat, using the wire brush to clean off the last of the charring before setting the meat on to cook.

When you sat down to eat you used the small bistro set in the garden, settling an old casserole dish on the grass for Akia that contained some left over boiled rice from the night before, a bag of stewed vegetables you’d defrosted from the freezer, and a spare steak without the spicy marinade you’d grilled. For you and Sy it was Steaks and salad, with his freshly made bread on the side, to which the pair of you devoured the entire loaf;

“This bread is SO good” you complimented.

Laughing, Sy nodded, before pointing his fork at his steak;

“I could say the same about your steak, you really know how to handle a decent piece of meat”

You paused chewing, the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth before you could hold it in any longer and let out a snort of laughter at what Sy had said.

“Oh god, I'm sorry… i didn’t mean…” he grew flustered, but you at that point had dissolved into a fit of giggles which were eventually infectious, the pair of you at the point where you were unable to make eye contact from continued outbursts.

Finally when you’d both calmed down and the meal was finished, Sy helped you to clear up before he started to load his truck. Akia slowly climbed into the passenger seat, tired from a day of running around in the sunshine. You came out onto the porch with a small dish of leftover meat for her, setting it onto the small table as you unwrapped a beeswax wrap and started to press it over the bowl. Even though your hands were warm it didn’t seem to want to stick, and as Sy approached to get the last thing for his truck he saw you struggling.

“Need some help?”

Without waiting for an answer he laid his hands over yours, the combined heat warming the wax and softening it. You were acutely aware of how close he was, his breath was warm on your face and as you looked up your mouths were a hair's width apart. You searched his face for a tell, to see if he was feeling what you were feeling. He moved closer then paused and you were wondering if he was going to kiss you and had stopped or had second thoughts. Only a single thought ran through your own mind, and that was ‘now or never’.

However the pause was too long and he pulled away, looking down at the bowl;

“There, all warmed up”

You followed his gaze and realised he was talking about the bowl;

“Oh, yes. All done. Here, for Akia”

Taking he he smiled and nodded;

“Thanks, she’ll love it”

He turned to make his way towards his truck, and with a small sigh you turned back towards your house.

“Wait”

Standing facing each other this time he pressed his lips to you cheek;

“Thank you for today”

“It’s… it’s alright…”

“Can I see you again sometime?”

His question surprised you, but you eagerly nodded;

“I’d like that”

With a gentle squeeze of your arm he let out a soft sigh before turning back to his truck;

“I’ll text you later”

You nodded, grinning as you watched as he started to reverse his truck out of your driveway. In the low light of the sunset the golden rays glinted in the chrome trim of the truck, Sy’s cheerful face smiling at you as he gave you a little wave. You waved back, watching as he drove down the hill and out of sight, wrapping your arms around you before you turned back to your house, nervous but excited for what the future held.

Chapter 3 >>>

#as sweet as honey #captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #syverson x reader #syverson fanfiction #henry cavill

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