#so basically this one time a few weeks ago I handed him a drawing of him that I had made and said I liked his profile

[malk1ns]

november 7 2024 @ hurricanes, 5-1 loss

not a lot to say about this game, sheesh. i WAS told that geno spent a lot of time during breaks in play yapping with kris, there was at least once instance where he was skating around ignoring the world and sid wouldn't stop staring at him, AND during warmups they were basically skating on top of each other in the corners by the net. but. not a lot to work with here, score some goals guys!!!!

so with the absolute bones they gave us to work with....we're taking a soulbond universe break and incorporating one of the asks i got when i requested quick-hit smut prompts last week. almost ALL of them were mustache-related, and there were two specific ones i want to revisit later, but for today....

Zhenya absolutely loathes playing in Carolina.

He hates playing the Hurricanes sort of as a general rule; every win against them for the last few seasons feels like more blind luck than an actual earned victory, and Jordy ran through his 2009 Stanley Cup goodwill years ago. But playing in Carolina, with their stupid slushy ice and the ice-cold visitor’s locker room and whatever the fuck a storm surge is, has to be near the top of Zhenya’s least favorite away-game experiences.

And add in the talent discrepancy in their two teams this year? Zhenya isn’t having a good time.

When the horn blares for another goal against, Zhenya winces and squeezes his stick. He knew what he was getting himself into; he and Sid had talked about it extensively over the summer, whenever Zhenya called to check in on how the slow grind of Sid’s extension was going. 

They weren’t going to be a good team this year. If they got into the playoffs, it would be by an unexpected run of luck and health, and there is not a single matchup in the league they’d be favored in even if they get that far. Sid and Zhenya’s job now, essentially, is to work with their young guys, help them develop and insulate them from the worst of the attentions of the opposing teams, and keep pushing for personal milestones.

Zhenya knows that. He’s accepted it, in theory. That doesn’t make blown leads and blowout losses any easier to bear in the moment.

“Hey,” Sid says, leaning toward him. Zhenya instinctively bends down, putting his ear close to Sid’s mouth as Sid holds his glove up just in case the cameras are on them.

Just in case. The cameras are always on them, especially since they’re playing on a line for now. At least that’s working out well, and Zhenya has someone next to him on the bench to nudge when someone fucks up spectacularly.

“Don’t look so crabby,” Sid continues, garbled through his mouthguard. “Keep a happy face for the rest of the game and I’ll make it worth your while tomorrow before the game.”

Zhenya stills, turning his head. Sid’s face is very close, and when he catches Zhenya’s eye he deliberately licks his lips. His mustache makes his jaw look sharp, and his eyes are intent on Zhenya’s face.

“Lunch with Tanger,” Zhenya says, watching Sid’s mouth as Sid draws away from him and drops his hand.

“Cancel,” Sid says casually, like it’s hardly even a consideration.

He’s right. Tanger bitches at Zhenya as they skate around during the next commercial break, but not seriously enough for Zhenya to actually feel bad. They both like the sushi place better for dinner anyway.

Sid and Zhenya go right to sleep when they get to the hotel in DC. As sanguine as they both are about the state of their team these days, a loss that bad is still deflating, and neither of them are even up for their usual debrief as they get ready for bed.

Sid does chivvy Zhenya into the shower, though. They both rinsed off after the game, but rink showers are always suspect, and the hot spray as Zhenya massages shampoo into Sid’s scalp is soothing.

Sid is thorough when he soaps Zhenya off, which makes him flush. Sid only winks at him, though, then busies himself with drying off and getting into his pajamas.

It takes a while for Zhenya to drift off, but eventually the visions of flubbed passes and blocked shots fade, and he falls into sleep to the sound of Sid’s gentle snores.

When he wakes up, it’s not to his alarm.

“C’mon,” Sid says, shoving at Zhenya’s side once Zhenya’s blinked himself to consciousness. “Get off me and get on your stomach.”

It takes Zhenya a second, but once the English penetrates and translates itself, he moves quickly, rolling off where he’d been practically plastering Sid into the mattress all night and spreading out, grabbing a pillow and turning his head to the side.

Sid’s stretched out next to him, eyes flickering over Zhenya’s body, and Zhenya preens, arching his back a little to draw Sid’s eyes down. He’d put in a lot of work over the summer to get his skating back to where he wanted it to be, and it shows in his back and ass, something Sid has been loudly appreciative of since they came back for camp.

“You want it bad,” Sid mutters, and Zhenya would roll his eyes at Sid’s lame dirty talk, but he does want it, so instead he just spreads his legs and shifts, rubbing his hardening dick against the soft sheets.

“Sid,” he says impatiently, and that gets Sid moving down the mattress, settling himself between Zhenya’s legs.

His grip on Zhenya’s ass is firm, and Zhenya clenches, feeling Sid’s fingers dig into his muscles in response. 

The first scrape of Sid’s facial hair against Zhenya’s hole gets him gasping into his pillow.

Zhenya can’t grow facial hair, not really. He dutifully went along with the stupid playoff beard tradition during the back-to-backs, but otherwise any stubble he ends up with is incidental, borne of laziness and skin too sensitive to shave clean on any given day. He doesn’t grow it well anyway, so there’s never been much of a point.

Sid used to not grow very good facial hair either. Zhenya’s life was perhaps more peaceful back then.

The thing with the mustache is it hurts. Sid’s facial hair is bristly and coarse, and it rubs Zhenya raw when they kiss. He’d had a rash all over his groin after they won the cup in 2009 and Sid blew him back behind Mario’s pool house during the party; Flower noticed the next day and brought it up to make fun of them for years. It’s uncomfortable to deal with in gear, even with the ointments and lotions they keep trying, and it stings under the hot water.

Zhenya loves it, though.

Sid’s tongue on his hole is warm and wet and good, but it’s the scratch of his mustache around Zhenya’s rim that makes him cry out and squirm. Sid’s good with his mouth, just as good as all the fans in Philly used to jeer at him and then some, and Zhenya loves when Sid eats him out any day of the year, but in November the added sensation makes him come so fast it would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good.

And because Sid is a possessive freak, he likes how Zhenya winces after, the way he shifts in discomfort on the bench and walks funny to avoid friction. He likes marking Zhenya up, likes knowing that Zhenya can still feel him days later.

With the way he’s gripping Zhenya’s ass to hold him open, Zhenya won’t be surprised if he has bruises to go along with the beard burn.

Sid leans back and spits on Zhenya’s hole, loud and wet and filthy in the morning quiet of the room, and Zhenya flinches, hides his face and groans as his dick twitches where it’s trapped between his body and the bed.

“Messy,” Sid says approvingly before he gets his face back into Zhenya’s ass. He pulls on Zhenya’s hips, and Zhenya obligingly cants them back, tensing his thighs to lift his lower back and give Sid the angle he’s looking for.

The burn in his muscles, the scrape of Sid’s mustache, Sid’s tongue in his ass, all of it is sensory overload, and Zhenya barely has to sneak a hand down under himself and squeeze the head of his dick before he’s coming, shoving his ass back into Sid’s face and riding his tongue through his orgasm.

He whines when Sid pulls away, tries to turn onto his back to get at Sid’s dick, but Sid smacks his ass once, so Zhenya stays put, keeps his back arched, and listens as Sid jerks himself off.

“I’m gonna…” Sid trails off, and Zhenya startles when Sid presses down on his back, pushing him flat to the mattress. “Squeeze, baby,” he says, one hand between Zhenya’s shoulder blades as he pushes his dick between Zhenya’s cheeks with the other. “I want it tight.”

Zhenya complies, clenching as Sid thrusts, breath hitching whenever the head of Sid’s dick catches against his rim. Even with all of Sid’s spit it’s a shade too dry, and the friction against his sensitive skin is bordering on unpleasant, but it makes something in Zhenya’s stomach squirm with desire.

When Sid comes, he presses the head of his dick just barely into Zhenya’s hole, grunting as he just-barely thrusts, enough to stretch but not actually penetrate. Zhenya wishes he would, wishes Sid would force his way into Zhenya’s body and come inside him, but it’s a game day, so he holds still instead of humping back onto Sid’s dick.

“Fuuuuck,” Sid groans finally, pulling back and spreading Zhenya’s cheeks wide. Zhenya turns his face into the pillow, sure that his entire back must be flushing red as Sid inspects his work. “Pretty,” he says approvingly, thumbing over where his come is dripping from Zhenya’s hole. “You’re gonna be hurtin’ later, bud.”

Zhenya sighs explosively into his pillow, reaching back and smacking at Sid’s thigh. “Get lotion,” he orders, and Sid laughs at him, clambering off the mattress.

He’s humming smugly to himself as he pokes through their toiletries. Zhenya would roll his eyes, but, well.

Sid’s touch is gentle now, rubbing the cooling ointment over Zhenya’s hole and everywhere his mustache rubbed Zhenya raw. Zhenya drifts a little under Sid’s ministrations, and he’s practically asleep again when Sid drops a kiss on the nape of his neck and curls up next to him.

“Alarm?” Zhenya mutters as Sid slings an arm and a leg over him.

“We’ve got forty-five minutes.” Sid says, voice already sliding to drowsiness. “Go back to sleep. We gotta play better tonight.”

Zhenya’s going to be sore later, but he’s never let that stop him from playing better when Sid asks him to. He’s got a good feeling about tonight’s game.

[remotewatch]

handprints, footprints all on my glass

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.6k wc

minors dni please and thanks, this is hag business

summary: it’s a short ride from the afterparty to the airport, theoretically

cw: shameless smut, she comes first 💪, dry humping, dom reader sorta, pathetic simp Jack enjoyers make some noise!!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, we’re degrading him a bit whoops, accidental vabbing (?????) girl idk, reader wears the pants not the panties, they’re in one of those Mercedes vans, wear your seatbelts everywhere but here

The jet lag was undoubtedly winning. As luck would have it, the busiest weeks of the year for you and Jack overlapped nearly entirely. It had been nonstop flights, engagements, meetings, press releases, dinner parties, galas, openings of buildings for charities for either dogs or orphans, orphaned dogs maybe, for so long you’d entirely lost track and were ever thankful that most of your speaking assignments were behind you. This last afterparty had fried you both; you didn’t have a single networking conversation left in you. Collapsed opposite you in the jump seat, Jack looked just as spent as you felt.

Of course, he still looked too good. It was fucking sweltering in that venue, and he had loosened his evergreen evening tie and slightly unbuttoned his dress shirt the very second you were shielded by the limo tint. Faint wisps of chest hair peered out from the opening, a fresh tan making his teeth look even whiter. Gun to your head, he’d had his pants taken in too much at the hips, but you’d never say anything that would threaten such a view.

There wasn’t time for that; you were in the home stretch of this hell month and had a packed 16 hour day tomorrow. One last email once over, and you could abandon your work iPad and pass out for the flight back to New York.

“Have you been like that all night?” he asks tentatively.

“Like what?” There’s no immediate response, so you look up from checking tomorrow’s agenda to see Jack shamelessly staring up your cocktail dress at your lack of underwear. The spell breaks when you recross your legs and playfully kick his shin.

“Eyes up here. So what if I was?”

Jack blinks dumbly at you and clears his throat. His eyebrows draw together out of confusion.

“But I saw you get dressed this morning. Where’s that pair I just bought you?”

“They’re wrapped in your pocket square. Did you forget to switch it out for a dry one before lunch?” you ask, holding back a shit-eating grin.

It’s hard to deny the rush you get watching Jack go pale and fish the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his discarded suit jacket, still sticky from cleaning you up a few hours ago. Sure enough, there’s a crumpled La Perla thong cradled in the middle. You interrupt his stuttering protests when you kick your pumps off and slide a foot up his leg.

“Oh please, like you don’t love walking around smelling like me.”

“I do,” his ears are turning red. “but I hugged like twenty people today!”

“Page six has been trying to pin down that musky “cologne” you use for ages. I think you’re safe.” You briefly wonder if you’re leaking onto the leather seats, but that train of thought is halted by Jack’s hand reaching to remove his tie.

“Keep it on.”

He snaps to attention at the direct order.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I like my handle.”

“Do you come with an off switch?”

Break lights flash on in the surrounding lanes. Just your luck; it’s complete gridlock in the few miles between here and the airpark. Maybe there was a little time.

Your foot slides higher, and Jack hisses through his teeth at the contact.

“Why don’t you try and find it?”

There’s barely a millisecond of hesitation before he falls onto you, licking stripes of sweat off your skin from your cleavage to your cheekbones. As always, he’s loud in the way that only a guy who never gets told to shut the fuck up can be: every breath shudders its way out, and he’s basically whimpering into your mouth by the time he gets there, louder when his right hand finds you, in fact, dripping all over the seat. You doubt you’ll ever get used to how thick his fingers are, or the vulgar noises they make when he’s showing off his grip strength knocking on your g spot.

He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up for the afterparty, but his watch was still squarely in the splash zone, and for the briefest of moments you wonder if it’s as waterproof as the cheaper ones he wears surfing. The thought is quickly pushed aside as Jack works you until you’re jolting off the seat trying to get his fingers deeper.

One good yank on his hair gets him off your neck, and he’s so dazed and fucked out already that you almost cum right there.

“Someone looks hungry,” you tease.

“Fuck, please let me-“ He’s cut off by the van suddenly lurching forward and throwing you both off balance, leaving only your vice grip on his tie keeping him in place. There’s a filthy squelch when he pulls his fingers out to suck them clean as he sinks down to his knees. It’s so warm that your dress is sticking to your thighs, and he rapidly loses patience trying to slide it up to your waist.

“This is a rental!” you squeal when the fabric rips, spraying sequins all over the floor. Jack doesn’t even flinch and wraps his lips snugly around your clit.

“Whatever, I’ll buy it,” he mumbles without breaking contact. You find yourself sliding down the sweat slick leather to grind against his face, and he has the nerve to lean back to watch your hips buck desperately.

“I love when you chase it,” he grins. Without missing a beat, you lock your legs around his head and shut him up against you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. I’m not the one humping the floor like a dog.” The mumbly, docile “sorry” that vibrates through you is the hottest thing he’s said all day. And he really is, if his overly enthusiastic slurping indicates anything. Those rapid, precise little strokes of his tongue always froth you up like he’s got a mouthful of soap. By the time you get tired of spelling your name on his nose and shove him to the floor to straddle his face, he’s completely lathered in you.

He lets out a little bleat of surprise when you roughly grab his hair and start manhandling him as if he’s a wet wipe, though he really should expect it by now. Normally, you’d be distractingly aware of the very real possibility the driver can hear the way you’re snarling his name, but time is not on your side right now. The last break lights recede, leaving the compartment only lit by dim blue under-seat bulbs. Your movements grow more frenzied; you’re totally disregarding Jack’s lung capacity and not even aiming for his mouth anymore, just using his whole face like it’s all he’s made for. Right as you begin to worry you have nothing left in the tank due to the lunch commute, a muffled, drawn-out “please” from beneath you sends you tumbling right over the edge. Your orgasm hits you more like a tranquilizer than anything else as the last dregs of your energy drench his face.

As soon as he feels your contractions lessen, he’s tossing you off to sit on his thighs and fumbling with his belt buckle. The van makes a hard right turn onto the final road to the airpark, and Jack lets out a frustrated groan knowing the clock is ticking. Still, he knows not to get in your way when you shove his hands away and slide right back on top of his dick, so hard you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric. You know you’re fucking up his dress pants grinding on him like this, but if nothing else, the linen will dry fast.

“I’m sleeping on the plane whether you finish or not, so make it work.” He doesn’t have enough time to be pissed at you, and he knows it. The sight of him so desperately rutting up against you is nearly enough to get you there all over again. All the tendons in his neck stand out as he presses his lips together trying to focus. His legs splay frantically in an attempt to ground himself, one jet black Oxford wedging under the jump seat and the other pressed flat against the far window. Jack’s head tips back and his eyes screw up in concentration, but you can’t have that, no matter how tasty his Adam’s apple looks. You loop his tie around your hand one more time and yank him back to earth,

“Uh-uh. Look at me when I’m making you cum.” That’ll do it. His expression softens then freezes as his eyes unfocus and his mouth falls open. He sounds downright melodic when he cums, just one long note that gets bounced up and down the scale before trailing off to a whine, and you relish every little twitch of him spilling into his pants, so far from you but certainly close enough.

The van rolls to a stop, and suddenly it’s a fumbling nightmare of you both trying to fish your shoes out from under the seats and smooth each others hair. You snatch Jack’s blazer to cover the rip in your dress, shove the iPad and pocket square-thong mess into your work bag, and throw the door open with what you hope is a believable amount of nobody-get-between-me-and-my-lie-flat-seat urgency.

Wobbly legs insist you grab his hand to step out of the van, and, of course, there’s a fucking pap pressed to the tarmac fence. Jack’s reflexes don’t stand a chance at turning him away in time after what you’ve put him through. When the flash catches his face, you can only look horrified as it perfectly captures the shine you’ve left on him.

Gossipy headlines and vague, tasteful PR statement drafts are already zipping through your head. Add it to the agenda: 16.5 hour day incoming.

[strawberryblue-blog]

if you are taking requests can u write one where since gavi as been bulking up recently and his arms are literally huge reader is obsessed with his new physique and complements him and he gets all shy and complements her too just loads of fluff basically

So strong —Pablo Gavi.

summary: request.

warnings: none. cute, soft, fluff, jokes.

words count: +1.2k

Your eyes glide over the letters of the paragraphs of the book you were holding in your hands while listening to the shower in the background, your boyfriend had just arrived from his dinner with his teammates and had gone to take a shower before coming to bed.

Tonight you had decided to stay home in bed all day while you caught up on your reading, which you had abandoned a few weeks ago. You listened as Gavi came out of the bathroom, as you felt the shower stop and came all the way back into the room, moving around.

You were reading quietly when your gaze lifted from the sheets and focused on your boyfriend's bare back. You froze for a few seconds as you noticed his tense, tight muscles and marked muscles on his pale skin, feeling an electric current run through your body. Your eyes were slyly darting around the room following your boyfriend as he rearranged his workout bag and folded his clothes, looking for room in his closet. You bit your lip as you watched his muscles ripple with every movement he made. As he raised his hands, his strong muscles were perfectly in view and made you sigh in love.

Gavi had been training hard since his injury, he spent day and night in the gym trying to build up his muscles and killing the time he was off the court, now his work was showing and he had been truly admiring. He had become much stronger, his back wider and more muscular, his arms had increased in mass, his neck wider and harder and also his abdomen had taken on more shape.

He really did look fucking sexy.

"What's wrong?" he asked when he turned and saw you lost in him.

You finally blinked shaking your head. You smiled slightly at him and he approached the bed with a smile. You shyly put your head back down to the book and tried to resume your reading but it was impossible when you felt him take your attention. He climbed up the front of the bed, starting to crawl over the mattress until he was close to you.

"Hi" he murmured flirtatiously when his face was close to you.

Your hands let go of the book, resting it on your chest and you cupped his face in your hands.

"Hi handsome" you greeted.

His lips kissed yours softly for a few seconds, quiet, soft and warm. It was like a greeting kiss, you hadn't seen him so much this day and you had missed your boyfriend while he was out.

His body lay on top of your legs, lying between them and making room on your belly covered by the sheets. He smiled as you broke apart from your kiss and you bit your lip as you saw his back on you, his naked torso pressed against your body and you could see from above his muscular back.

The urge to feel his skin took over and you sighed as you admired your boyfriend's work.

Your hands slide down his neck gently caressing his whitish skin, to start moving down his broad back, feeling under your fingers his beefy muscles warm from the shower he had just taken.

"Your muscles have gotten stronger" you whisper as you feel her hard skin. Gavi looks up and smirks.

"Was that what you were seeing when I asked you?" he asked laughing.

"Yes, I was shocked" you laughed with him.

"You were drooling" he mocked again. And you opened your mouth in offense.

Of course you were. Your boyfriend was perfectly sensual and his body was a work of art, like any good person you would admire his work and die for it.

Gavi long a giggle at the sight of you and hugged your belly again, while your fingers kept leaving little touches along his skin. Intertwining his moles as if they were stars, joining them as if you were drawing patterns on his skin. Pablo sighed in relief as he felt your fingers gently caressing him, he was relaxed on you, calm and expectant. His eyes relaxed, enjoying the path of your warm touches on his skin as his arms wrapped tighter around your body, pulling you in.

"I was actually imagining something..." you whisper after a while caressing him, pretending to be flirtatious. Gavi opens his eyes curiously and lifts his head back up to you.

A small smile appeared on your lips and his confused gaze watched you constantly, waiting for your answer.

"I was thinking about... what it would feel like to be strangled by those arms" you murmured bringing your hands to his arms.

Gavi opened his eyes hiding a mischievous smile but he was a bit surprised to say.

"So strong, so muscular... so hot" With each word you were squeezing his arms a little tighter and speaking with a certain hint of sweetness.

Her gaze becomes a little more shy as you notice his processing your words, with a little redness in his cheeks. It was probably the craziest thing you've ever said and it also embarrasses you. A nervous little laugh leaves your lips and Gavi shakes his head laughing.

"You naughty little girl" he says playfully with an amused look. "What things have you been reading lately baby?" he teases again, trying to take the book to your chest but you held it tightly with a laugh.

His laughter gets a little louder as you raise your eyebrow with a grimace and laugh too. Your hands continue to wrap around his skin as his hands take the book from your chest and he closes it, pushing it aside.

"So you really want me to hang you?" he asks when your eyes look up at him.

You smile shaking your head but you didn't say yes or no.

"Just a thought" you joke with a grimace.

Your cheeks are turning redder but you are no longer embarrassed. It was clearly a joke to take advantage of the moment but you were really enjoying your views.

He lets out a laugh again and your stomach churns with joy. Hearing his laughter is like your favorite song and seeing him so happy makes you proud. Your hands return to his face and you admire it in detail, his relaxed face is a work of art.

"I knew you'd like to see me like this but I didn't think you'd fantasize about me hanging you" he says teasingly again and you squint, pretending to be offended.

But then you smile proudly.

"I'm proud of you" you murmur sincerely. "You've gotten so strong, honey"

All kidding aside, you were proud of her work. Gavi had been preparing for his return to the court and you were really glad he was finally able to overcome his injury, he was destined to be a great player. His mentality, his body, his heart. Watching him deal with an injury as complex as the one he had was like watching him grow and you're so proud that Gavi was able to pull through and become even stronger. He is ready to come back and show the world who he is.

"Thanks to you, baby" Gavi whispers as his nose gently makes contact with yours. "I'm stronger because of you"

A huge smile appears on your lips and spreads it to your boyfriend. His eyes take off little bright sparkles that make you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Show me how strong you are?" you ask somewhat amused, wrinkling your nose.

"Delighted" he replies also laughing again and giving you an accomplice look that makes you shiver.

[planetpedri]

Morning cuddles — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader

Summary: Pedri, who always insists on morning cuddles before the day can start.

Word count: 450

Disclaimer/s: just fluff!

A/N: Please bear with me i’ve never done this before… Sorry if there’s spelling mistakes . . . Feel free to give me requests! 🩷

Waking up to the sun beaming down on your boyfriend’s face was quite simply the best thing in the world. The way his rosy cheeks shone brighter under the direct sunlight, making his every feature pop was something you’d grown to adore more and more since he started staying at your apartment.

Ever since his injury all those weeks ago, he’d needed assistance with a lot of basic needs and you were more than happy to help. If anything, it was a bonus for you as it meant you spent all your free time together. Which was something you hadn’t had the luxury of in the two years since you’d started dating.

With a soft sigh, you quietly begin to pull yourself out of bed, only for a warm hand to pull you back. A quiet giggle escapes your lips as you turn to face the tan man. His sleepy face was adorned with a sly grin as his eyes stayed shut.

“Pedri…” You drawl, a knowing smile on your face. “I have to make breakfast and feed Meimi!” Just as you say that, you hear a distant meow outside your door, only further proving your point.

Despite knowing you have duties to attend to, the thought of missing out on a few more minutes of cuddling was a struggle you faced daily.

Pedri pouts, his eyes slowly fluttering open. “Please?” He says in his upmost pouty tone, once again something you’d grown accustomed to in the past month.

“How about…” You tap your bottom lip, feigning to think, “I make us breakfast and feed Mei, then I come back here and we eat breakfast in bed? We can cuddle and be lazy for the rest of the day. How does that sound?”

The tan man’s pout deepens at the idea, nodding his head reluctantly with a long sigh. “I guess I can wait a little longer.”

Rolling your eyes, you stare at him for a moment, admiring everything that was your boyfriend. From the dark circles under his eyes, to his perfectly pink lips, to his hair that slightly curls at the ends. He was everything you’d ever loved and so much more.

You groan as you give in, fully laying back down and tugging the corners of the bedspread back around you. Pedri doesn’t try to suppress the smirk that began growing on his lips as he pulls you closer, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

As you lay with your bodies intertwined, he places a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.” He murmurs, his hands drawing unknown shapes on your hip.

“You’re annoying.” You huff, although the slight twitch to your lips gives you away.

@halfwayhearted this one is for you bonk. i love you ^_^~ Now it’s your turn.

[glaciertea]

Tickets for Two

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot

Part 2

This is part one of this story that's been on my mind for quite a while.

Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.

Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.

The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.

CW: Nothing for this chapter, just having a crush on Miguel.

Word count: 1.7k

There was something about Thursday nights in the movie theater that always made you exhilarated.

It wasn't the smell of freshly stale popcorn that stunk up your nostrils or the fact that you were able to score the after-hours time slot on this day. The ones many would kill to have because after 9 p.m., the place is a barren ghost town. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those reasons. 

It was him.

Throughout the year and a half you managed to survive working here; you've never seen a man like that before in your life. Yes, you've seen your fair share of attractive people come in and out; of course, this was a place to watch the latest hit-or-miss films. But this one, this one was different.

Tall, high cheekbones, a jawline that could shapren diamonds merely by looking at them, those piercing eyes, and those muscles. You always have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.

He started coming three months ago for the ‘Traditional Thursdays’ feature presentation. Your theater would show old movies from the 1930's ranging to the 2020's or 2030's. It was a nice addition, as your boss wanted to have that “retro-style feel,” and it was pretty successful… if one were to go at the 9 p.m. slot. That frame usually brought in a decent amount of customers, but you were happy to not deal with that anymore.

You managed to get in the ten-to-one schedule block. It was a ghost town during those hours, especially with the midnight showings. You would lounge behind the concession, eyeing a few nightcrawlers emerge, but you would wait for him.

He would walk through the sliding doors exactly at midnight. Never a minute early, never a minute late. The actual film doesn't begin until 12:10 to showcase the following week's feature and a trailer or two. 

So it gives him enough time to head in your direction. He has become a regular for you, always ordering a medium black roast coffee, a small popcorn, and a pack of gummy worms. It got to the point where you realized the items were never going to change, so you made it a habit to have them prepared for him on hand. You barely speak because you don't know what to conjure up, and you certainly don't want to make a fool of yourself, so you stick to the basic “Here's your order” and “Enjoy your film.”

He always responds with a “Thank you” or an “I appreciate it,” and each time, your knees will wobble. His voice was smoother than the butter that you poured on the popcorn. He had you weak. His chiseled profile, his domineering height—he was too good to be true. You want to know more about him, but he's very much to himself. You are intimidated by him; his demeanor can make him seem unapproachable, but that only draws you in more.

There will be a day you will finally find the courage to strike up a conversation. One day.

You just weren't expecting it to be today. You manned the concussion stand, eyeing the time and counting the milliseconds. It was, of course, slow, but you loved it. Easy money to you.

His order was fresh and ready to go; he was going to stroll in less than a minute, and you had to put a lid on your excitement. And like clockwork, he came in and made his way right to you.

Putting on your best smile, you placed the snacks and beverage on the counter. “I got everything ready to go, sir. Piping hot and a new batch of popcorn made.”

“Actually, I want to switch it up. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”

Your brain practically malfunctioned. Not from the request, but from the fact he uttered more words to you. Your reaction must have given something away as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“If not, that's fine. I don't want you wasting supplies on me.”

Scolding yourself, you shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no! No, sir, it's not an inconvenience at all. I'll gladly ring you up with a new order. Anything for the customer.” You despised saying that phrase as it got so many ungrateful, smug idiots out of problems they decided to cause. But for him? You would repeat it endlessly.

Discarding the usual and clearing the order from the register, you nodded. “What are your taste buds tingling for?” Did you really say those words in that order? Your body suddenly wanted to combust.

The man raised a brow as you chuckled nervously. “That sounded... less dumber in my head.”

His lips turned upwards at that, and your heart stopped. He smiles? He can smile! You never once saw him do that, but if you did, you managed to miss it. He managed to look more radiant; how was that possible?

“Well, my taste buds are craving pretzel bites, fruit snacks, and... can I make my medium roast into a large?”

“Yes, sir, I'll try to get it done before the film starts.” 

“No hay necesidad de apresurarse. Take your time.”

“Okay.” You squeaked out, hiding your flustered state from him.

Miguel rested his arms on the countertop and observed the way you moved back and forth, blending new beans and meticulously placing the hot pretzels in a bag. 

“Here you go.” You reached down and took a packet of fruits and propped it nicely on the pretzel bag. “Steaming and raring to go.”

“Are you usually precise when making these orders?” Miguel pulled his wallet out and paid for the meal, leaving a nice tip.

“Kind of. Maybe it's because I have more time to do these things, and I like my regulars to enjoy nice treats.” You grinned and went to clean up his usual. “I hope you enjoy.

“I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Definitely keeping sure. Thank you again.”

You didn't know what meant by that as he took up his things and headed off to catch the film. You put your hand to your chest and calmed your heart rate, going on about your night. You honestly believed that would've been the end of that interaction and that the following week would revert back to the same old, same old, but you were far from it.

The next Thursday, he was there, but fifteen minutes earlier, asking for a new item from the menu alongside the other treats. You were once again thrown off, but that didn't mean you got to be near his presence more, and if not longer. 

It started off with small extras. A bag of pretzels, sized up on the popcorn, an extra bag of candy—nothing too extravagant. However, as the weeks coasted by, the orders got bigger. A hotdog, flatbread pizza, sliders—those meals took you longer to make, but you did not mind one bit. 

You got to chat with him constantly; when Thursday rolled around, you had that extra pep in your step. The conversations ranged from his tedious office filled with people of the same personality, the many tales of strange movie customers from you, or anything that springs to mind. He was awkward, loveable, and sweet, and your crush for him only grew more with each visit. To the point that it was overwhelming.

And it wasn't blowing away anytime soon. 

You were fixing him up a basket of curly fries and chicken tenders casually yapping away when the topic of movie genres popped up.

“I'm into animated movies. They seemingly are able to convey more emotions than actual humans.”

Miguel enjoyed watching you; he honestly preferred looking at you than the film he was supposed to see. “I enjoy them as well. They tend to have moments that resonate with you on a higher emotional level.” He tapped his finger on the glass counter. “Do you have any favorites?”

“Hmm.” You rubbed your chin before moving back over to the fries and dumping some extra salt and pepper on them (they barely had any flavor to them). “I like a good Lixar film. It's funny how they're able to give certain things sentiment. Rather it's inanimate or not, they find a way. I mean, they gave a torso and sweater emotions. A sweater!” You poured the fries into the plastic basket and moved onto the tenders. “Now in particular, I love Bouillabaisse. Up is a heartbreaker, but I can understand the older man's pain. Searching Elmo is so gorgeous, especially for the time it came out. And Coco, that's a tearjerker. That ending scene when he's singing to her? Gets me every time.” 

“I enjoyed all those as well.” Miguel took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “Especially the last one.”

“Oh yeah?” You grabbed some tongs and flipped the tenders to cook them evenly. 

“Sí. A bit of a bias though.” 

“A bias?”

“I share the name of the main character.” He stared right into your eyes as he said that.

“Miguel.” It was velvety as it slid off your tongue.

Was that a suave way of him giving his name? It never occurred to you that you actually never learned his name. He knew yours because of the required name tag, but you were glad to know it now and took it with no complaints.

“It fits.” You smiled and finally finished and rang up his meal. “I shouldn't keep you from the movie. I hope everything is of satisfaction for you.”

“You already know it will be.” He paid and reached for his goods when he stopped.

You crooked your neck and looked down to make sure you didn't miss anything. His usual and the new meal were there, so you didn't know what was up. 

“Is everything okay? Did I mess up your order?”

“Everything is fine. I only want to…” he snatched up a napkin and scanned, even going as far as peering over the counter.

“Miguel?” 

“Do you have a pen?” 

“Yes?” You took one from under the register and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” He scribbled down at lightning pace and folded it half, sliding it across to you. “I'll see you then.” He bowed his head, snagged up his meal and left. 

You had to wait several seconds to recover from your shock when you hastily snatched up the napkin and opened it up. You drew your lips to your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming. 

There were ten digits written in blue.

[fadingdaggerr]

hey! I just wanted to see if I could request a Melissa x Reader fic where basically r is a teacher at the school and her best friend is ava, and r has the fattest crush on melissa ever but the only ones who know are ava, barbra, and mr johnson (bc dude knows everything)

and ava and barbra are trying to be wingman because melissa likes r. so just a bunch of mutual pining and fluff. and when they confess it’s snowing.

if you can’t do that that’s totally fine! but if you do thanks in advance and take your time

as you ever were

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above | 8k

includes: mutual pining, ava and barb meddling, kinda dialogue heavy oops, these bitches Oblivious, author is a classics nerd

warnings: (minimal) they/them pronoun use for R, sexual innuendos, (brief) alcohol consumption, kissing/light making out

note: sorry i took so long getting to this req. school started up and work is genuinely insane. plus i got a little too into writing this so editing too a little while. i actually really like how this turned out :)

Unforecasted frozen rain forced recess to be inside, everyone was to just stick to their classroom since there was no time to prepare the gymnasium for indoor recess on such short notice. The kids spent the first five minutes of recess begging you to go outside, to which you open the window, to which Sean says oh, hell no, resulting in a scolding from you.

Within five more minutes, your teacher-senses begin to tingle. Something is wrong. Looking up from your record book, you glance around the classroom until your eyes land on Karam. The seven year old had just moved to Philly with his parents a few weeks ago, and with this being his first week at a new school, he has been understandably frazzled. The boy is facing towards your desk, away from his classmates, sitting on a beanbag chair and crying to himself.

Immediately, you rise out of your chair and approach him gently, lowering yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him. “Hey, Karam. What’s going on?” you ask calmly, not trying to draw attention to his state nor baby him. The only response you get is a shake of the head, so you ask, “would you like some alone time right here?” Another shake of the head, another question, “do you want to talk alone, just you and me? You can bring Pickle.”

This offer seems to appease him, he instantly stands and goes to his backpack to grab his beloved stuffed sea lion. You get to the doorway and keep your hand on his shoulder where he stands just out of sight of the other kids, hoping no one will see him and decide to get nosy.

“Okay, chickens. I’m going to run across the hall very quickly, keep doing what you’re doing. Ashante, honey, you’re in charge,” you say with a little grin, it becomes a full smile when the girl salutes you.

Once you’re in the hall, Karam grabs your hand tightly with big tears ready to fall, and stays close as you cross diagonally to some of your students' previous second grade classroom. You lean into the doorway, still keeping Karam out of sight of others, and knock to gain a certain redhead’s attention. She’s quick to get to you, seeing a sort of urgency on your face.

“What’s up?”

“Can you watch my class, please? I’ve got a situation here,” you tip your head to the side to gesture to Karam, still gripping your hand and sniffling. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow, lunch, lunch duty, recess duty, whatever. Just, please?”

Melissa takes one look at you pleading eyes and knows she can’t say no to you, especially not with a sad little friend by your side. “You owe me nothing. I’ll bring the kids to my room and you can come get ‘em after,” she says with a tone she hopes shows she’s being genuine.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you rush out, immediately your attention falling back to the tears rolling down Karam’s cheeks. Melissa scoots over to your room, corralling the kids across the hall with an excited tone to keep their eyes on her and not you and their classmate.

With the extra bodies in the room, Melissa finds that the doorway was a good place to observe all the kids in her room. Though she tries to keep her eagle eyes on the students, they slowly slide to your form in the hall, crouched down below the boy’s eye level with his hand in yours. Her ears feel like a radio, tuning into the hushed volume you keep.

“It’s okay to be sad, buddy. Everything and everyone is so new, you’re allowed to be scared,” you say as you wipe his cheeks with a tissue, “and you and I both know that baba and daddy would never bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe. And Pickle, he’s here for you, and so am I.”

The boy leans into you for a hug, and your arms wrap tightly around him. Melissa tries not to stare, but she’s unable to take her eyes off the interaction. The way you rock him gently side to side, it was clear you weren’t letting go until he did. She vaguely remembers you mentioning that being a rule of yours when you first started at Abbott, when you took over her third grade class and her entire field of vision. 

Melissa averts her eyes back to the kids as the hug ends, but she still listens discreetly. You wipe Karam’s face as you speak, “let’s go get you some water, okay? And maybe, if you use those puppy eyes, nurse Makiah will let you pick out a lollipop. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Do we have to come back to recess?” The shyness in his voice makes you pout.

“Yes, because Miss Schemmenti was super nice to watch all our friends for me while we’re talking, and I’m sure she’d like her room back,” you peek up to Melissa quickly, “and when we get back, we’re gonna say a big ‘thank you,’ alright?”

“Yeah,” Karam answers quietly, but his next words are so quiet you barely hear them, “thank you.”

“Of course, chicken. Let’s go.” Melissa pretends she’s not watching you walk down the hall with a hand still in Karam’s, her eyes switch back to her class when you disappear around the corner.

When you return to get the kids from Melissa, she instead insists that you just sit out the rest of recess in her room since the students were already playing together. That’s the only reason, nothing else. You keep a cautious eye on Karam as he sits down to draw with one of Melissa’s students, and once you see him start to arrange his colors, you drift your attention to the woman next to you.

“Thank you, seriously. And I will be paying you back for this,” you say, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“I said you ain’t gotta do anyth-”

You cut her off, “I said. I’m. Paying. You. Back. Just accept it, I’m not budging.”

All she gives as an answer is a huff through her nose, but the smile that stretches her lips makes you feel fluttery. Her smile is not a rare sight, but it’s rare that you get to see it this close. When she faces away for only a couple seconds, you take the time to just take her in. Beautiful.

In the hall, a conversation between Barbara and Ava about clearing an extra bulletin board for the kindergarteners art projects was halted when they caught Melissa watching you with Karam. Both women looked at her, unseen even by Melissa’s typically sensitive attention, and all they saw was a soft putty of a woman. When you returned to the classroom, they slowly got closer to see what was going on, curiosity drawing them in.

All they could see were gentle, shy smiles and hidden glances of adoration for each other. It clicked in their minds at the same moment. Their best friends had it bad for each other.

Their plan was formed in a single glance.

—☽—

“So… What are you gonna do about Red?” Ava asks as she reaches the midpoint of her braid.

You’re sitting behind her on a cushion, parting a section in the back of her head to start on a braid yourself. Your focus makes your response time slower and quieter than usual, “what d’ya mean?”

Ava’s chuckles, “how you’ve got the hots for Schemmenti.”

Her obvious tone makes you stall, too long, but you try to deflect anyway, “I’ve got no clue what you mean.”

She laughs. Ava laughs and it would be in your face if she weren’t so busy with her hair. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’ve got that shocked expression on your face, the one where your eyes are wide and blank, face otherwise neutral, but she knows the expression well. The first time she’d seen it was the day she met you in seventh grade, and she proclaimed you her best friend to everyone in the cafeteria, just a mere three hours after meeting each other.

“Don’t lie to me, Gremlin,” she jokes, using her nickname for you she adopted from your favorite movie as a kid, “I know when you like someone, and you want that Italian sub to Italian dom you.”

“I hate you,” you groan, “if you mention even a single thing to her Ava, I will buy out all the caramel hair from the beauty supply and you’ll never see it again.” She gasps, as if it were a real threat you could carry out on your budget, but she knows how serious you are. With a roll of her eyes, Ava decides to hold off until you’re not braiding her hair to annoy you more.

Much later into the night and all there is really left to do is trim, seal, and add products to her roots, Ava knows she can’t let the topic of the previous conversation go. She decides to speak up while she trims the last few front pieces and you pick up the hair packaging and combs from around the room.

“Just saying though, if you stopped making ‘I wanna have your babies’ eyes, you could ask her out,” Ava tries to explain. She almost adds a what’s the worst that could happen? but she knows exactly where your mind will go.

“I don’t wanna ‘have her babies,’ you freak,” you sigh as you get some hot water, “I just… I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with her when she inevitably rejects me.”

She’s obsessed with you, she won’t reject you, Ava wants to say. Even if others, and even herself, would label her selfish, the one thing she doesn’t ever let slide is you letting your insecurity get the best of you. She likes her extra job as your personal hype-woman when you get in your head. Ava weighs her option, “well… you could put out some feelers. Invite her somewhere or, I don’t know, look her in the eye when you talk to her.”

“You’re right,” you say with a gruffness that she knows is defeat. If she can just get you and Melissa talking, interacting more, then maybe she and Barb can figure out a way to worm you two together.

“You do like her, don’t you?” She knows the answer, she wants you to say it though.

There’s a deep inhale before you answer, “of course I do. She- she’s so- I do like her, so much. Like, I want to bite a chunk out of the table when she looks at me.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, we don’t know where they’ve been,” Ava says with a touch of disgust, “and she’ll think you’re more of a freak than you already are.” She rightfully earns a smack on the shoulder at that one.

Dipping the ends of her hair into the hot water, you think silently. Ava has a point, if you spent even a tenth of the time you spend thinking about Melissa, when she was right in front of you, talking to her instead, you’d probably not be so nervous at the thought of making eye contact with her. Sometimes it was nice though, just getting to look at her, seeing her easy smile when she speaks to Barbara and the playful glint in her eye when she lovingly picks on Jacob. Whenever her attention falls on you, you shy away. Maybe Ava has a point.

At Barbara and Melissa’s weekly brunch that same Saturday morning, their conversation falls down a similar path.

Ever the professional deterrer, Melissa manages to push the conversation away from the topic of you, trying to keep Barb on Gerald or bible club. Usually her friend catches the hint to stay away from the topic, but there’s no way she was getting out of this one.

“So… are we gonna keep beating around the bush or are we going to talk about it?”

Melissa just sips her mimosa, suddenly interested in the painting across the room.

“Melissa.”

What… interesting brush strokes.

“Melissa Ann, so help me.”

She turns back, “yes, Barb?”

“Don’t ‘yes, Barb’ me. Spill,” there is no room for argument.

“There’s nothing to spill, Barb,” Melissa says, and she means it. It’s clear Barbara had picked up on her feelings for you, but nothing had been done to go past acknowledging she cared for you.

Barb tilts her head to the side, “oh, really? So, we’re just going to pretend that you’re not utterly infatuated with everyone’s new favorite third grade teacher?” Melissa stares at Barbara with wide eyes, thrown off by the blunt nature of her inquiry. Her friend only shakes her head, “for the good Lord’s sake, Melissa. Anyone with eyes can see you’ve got feelings for them, and I know you know that too.”

Green eyes shift away from brown, and they instead stare at the drink in front of her, nervous hands coming up to play with the umbrella to keep them busy instead of shaking in her lap. What Barb said wasn’t untrue, she knows it. Barbara Howard is always right in the end. But that isn’t where the apprehension in her gut stems from.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa mumbles, insecurity from her mind reaching her throat.

Barbara can sense it and tries a softer approach, “I think I can say on good authority that the feelings are probably mutual. You could give it a shot, they’d be lucky to have you.”

“And what’s that good authority?”

“My eyes,” Barbara deadpans, her face reading are you serious?

The conversation stops there, more of a self preservation move for the kindergarten teacher. Underneath the silence from Melissa, it’s obvious her mind is going in circles trying to weigh her options. Did she have feelings for you? Yes. But would she do anything if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain you’d return her feelings? No. She was almost certain you didn’t, you rarely ever looked her in the eye and you got all quiet and mumbly when she spoke.

Conclusion: Barb’s nuts.

—☽—

When Monday comes back around, you feel like the air in the lounge, or at least around your table, is different. Barbara’s eyes keep shifting between you and Melissa in what she thinks are subtle glances, but the constant eyes on you start making you nervous. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment, you rise from your chair to go to the coffee pot to get away from the prying. While your back is to them, a different form of attention falls on you. Olive eyes scan over you with a soft glint, taking the opportunity to admire you when you’re not looking. Her attention feels different from Barb’s, you can feel it without seeing it. It’s warm, all consuming.

When you turn back around, you can see a section of Melissa’s hair swinging slightly from motion. She was looking at you, and she was hiding it horribly. Instead of mentioning it, you just sit and check your school email. In the weekly scheduling, you see that the recess duty that you typically had with Mrs. Benning from sixth grade, was now with Melissa for the entire week.

Your eyebrows jump slightly at the find, before you have to fight an eye roll at Ava’s obvious meddling. Seeing this, Melissa speaks up, “something interesting?”

“No, no,” you barely get out at a normal cadence, “just switches in the schedule, wasn’t expecting it.”

She nods slowly, “are you… not okay with that?” You try not to pout at the insecurity that bleeds just the smallest amount in her question.

“Of course I’m okay with it, no reason not to be,” you hope your genuineness was showing, “just different is all.” A muted smirk crosses her lips before she takes a sip of her coffee to cover her face, you pretend not to notice the move, as well as the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You turn your attention to your phone in your lap.

To AVA ♔ : you’re not slick

From AVA ♔ : good thing i wasn’t trying to be

From AVA ♔ : get up in that cannoli

To AVA ♔ : speaking privileges revoked until further notice

You try to not think about the prospect of an extra half hour with Melissa today, and for the rest of the week, but the thought of her crosses your mind and brings a smile to your face. When you are walking your kids back from music, you selfishly take the extra second you’re in the hall to glance towards Melissa’s classroom. Cursive letters on the board in her loopy handwriting being narrated by her expressive face and fast-moving hands. Another grin crosses your lips before you spin on your heel back to your room.

As lunch rolls around, there’s a giddy feeling in your chest that grows with every passing second. Was she even going to talk to you? Maybe not, but time with Melissa is time with Melissa. Just when you’re sliding your gloves on, there’s a tap at your door. Red hair tucked under an Eagles hat and thick black jacket, she’s never been more beautiful.

Winter at Abbott meant beautifully crafted snowmen that had just a touch of dirt on it, but the kids just decided it was freckles. Most of them were working together on their snowmen, while others were trying to see how long they could hang upside down on the monkey bars in their snow clothes. Melissa, after five minutes of churning the idea over in her mind, moves closer to you, the nylon of your jackets making a fssh sound as they brush together gently. The red on her cheeks was likely from the cold, but the darker shade that blossoms at you smiling and turning to her, that’s all you.

The silence between you is easy, for once it doesn’t make Melissa skeptical. It’s comforting, no nervous rambling or awkward attempts to fill the silence, just peaceful silence as your shoulder moves closer to hers.

Tuesday is just the same, with Melissa coming to your classroom to pick you up for recess duty. Wednesday you meet her in your doorway. The peaceful silence is broken when you check your phone to see copious texts in the teacher group chat, most of which are Janine and Jacob and only two are Gregory. All you let out is a little hum.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asks from beside you, her eyes staying on Marcus attempting to climb on top of the monkey bars.

“Groupchat’s going crazy. Janine and Jacob want a ‘teacher’s night out plus Ava,’ and they’re asking if everyone’s good to go next Friday at seven,” your tone suggests a bit of disinterest, but if Melissa goes, you could be easily persuaded.

Her brows scrunch for only a half second before asking, “what bar?”

“The Penman’s Alcove? Guess Jacob suggested it,” you say after scrolling through the nearly forty messages.

“Sounds like Jacob suggested it,” she says with a sputtered laugh. To her delight, you chuckle from beside her, and she brings her full attention to you, “you going?”

You bite your inner lip and flick your eyes to the side, “maybe. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

—☽—

Ava, who always demands you pick her up when you go out, insists on driving to the bar. When she gets to your apartment and does a once over of your jeans and loose-fitting sweater, she gives you a face of disapproval.

“That is not club attire. What ladies are you going to pick up if you’re dressed like a grandma?”

You roll your eyes as you move to let her in, “it’s not a club, it’s a bar. That Jacob picked out. And I’m not trying to ‘pick up’ ladies?”

“Aw, you’re already committed to Schemmenti. Cute,” her laugh at her own comment is cut off by the pillow you whip at her head, another ready if she pipes up again, “no need to get violent, I’ll stop.”

Her only reply is a huff as you grab your boots and shove in your fluffy-socked feet. Ava rises off the couch, leaving the pillow-turned-missile behind. When she’d asked you earlier in the day if ‘your woman’ was coming to the bar, you’d only shrugged, but with a quick text to Barbara, Ava knew the redhead would be there.

Barbara and Ava had made a pact, that despite their differing reasons for not wanting to go, would only attend the outing to insure that you and Melissa would both go as well. It had taken some convincing on Melissa’s end, but the moment her best friend said your name, her tune changed. She agreed to go as long as she drove herself there, so that when she wanted to inevitably leave early, she could.

As Ava pulls into the parking lot of the bar, neither of you hold back the rolling of your eyes. It was very Jacob. You share a look with your best friend, silently asking what did we agree to?

The Penman’s Alcove is tiny, shoved into one of the smallest brick buildings either of you had ever seen. One window was completely blocked off by a decorative book display, the other gave view to the wooden bar top and wooden support beam that was turned into a cylindrical bookcase with lights weaving around it. What is lacking in space, it clearly made up for in atmosphere.

“You both came!” Jacob’s voice echoes from the door to where you and Ava stand as you evaluate the building. You immediately elbow Ava to stop the joke that you could feel on the tip of her tongue. 

“Said I would, didn’t I?” you asked as you got closer, appreciating how Jacob switched his arms from the instinctive hug he wanted to give to giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Well, Janine, Gregory, me, duh, Barbara, and Melissa just got here, so,” his voice becomes a little sheepish, “you’re the last ones here.”

“Fashionably late,” you and Ava say at the same time, though your tone is more flat since you only said it because you knew she would.

Walking into the bar, the small space didn’t feel bigger, just smaller as you realized just how many shelves of countless books there were. The twenty person capacity limit was starting to make sense as you quickly side stepped around other people to keep up with Jacob. Everyone comes into view, but as green eyes meet yours, cameo light surrounds her and she’s all you can see. The stutter in your step is noticed by no one but Ava, who subtly grabs your arm to pull you closer to everyone, closer to Melissa.

Greetings and small talk fill the space, but all of it is background noise. When Janine finally releases you from her energetic retelling of the four hours it’s been since she last saw you, your attention is finally able to rest on the woman who it had been dying to be on. Melissa sees your eyes flick around until they find her, and she curses how her heart flutters at the way you move towards her in an instant.

Leaning your arms on the bartop, you lean over slightly to order a rum and coke before turning entirely towards the redhead. Even though it had been barely four hours since you’d seen her, you felt yourself missing her. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh, especially the one she barks out when she can’t control herself and laughs suddenly. Something in the navy shirt she wore instead of her bright greens and pinks told you she wanted to fit into the environment, like she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a… Jacob place. Her attempt to keep attention away, yet for you it was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Just like every other time you saw her, your eyes quickly dipped to her neck, a tiny smile passing your lips at her Saint Dominic pendant she had received from her Nana before she’d passed. When you met her eyes, the small smile on your lips grew, and hers did to match.

“Thought you’d never show up,” Melissa says playfully, but with a quiet tone, her words only for you.

“Surprised you even showed,” you mimicked her tone.

Melissa weighs her options before replying, “Barbara told me I should, told me I can count it as my good act of the year.” She relishes in your silent laugh, little puffed breaths leaving you as you turn your face away from her just for a moment to hide. Melissa had realized three days into knowing you that this was her favorite thing, this quiet laugh of yours, she knew that when you turned away, it meant it was genuine.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you say with earnest, “if that's any consolation.”

A smile plays on glossy, pink lips, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Two drinks later, and you found yourself meandering through the shelves of books, naturally being drawn to the fantasy section that was oddly close to the classics you also enjoyed. The small bar had reached capacity only a half hour after you’d arrived, and the bustling conversation was starting to pierce your eardrums. The cushions on the floor had become your new seat, in this almost-quiet corner.

The light vibrations of footsteps approaching brings your mind out of the dragon story you were falling into. Your eyes look up to see red hair contrasting against the shadows from the shelves. Melissa lowers herself carefully onto the cushion beside you, taking utmost care in not getting too far into your space. Her finger pokes the book in your hands, pushing it closer to you to read the cover, only a low hum leaving her throat.

She bumps her knee with yours, a silent you alright? She’s seen you get overwhelmed at assemblies and work parties before, often keeping an eye on you as you stuck to a corner, too polite to leave the room. You bump her knee back, a little smile on your lips, a quiet I’m okay. Melissa plays with the creases in her jeans as she tries to think of what to say, but you beat her to it.

“You know what’s fucked? You can’t even check out the books here,” you state with exasperation. “What’s the point of having all these books if you can only read them if you come here?”

Melissa warms with affection at your word, “No one would bring them back, hon.”

“I would,” you mumble with an incredulous tone in your voice, “but no, not even a checkout fee or, I don’t know, collateral.”

“Collateral!” Melissa laughs out. “Gonna hand over your watch to hold onto until you bring the book back?”

“I’d give them my car for those early editions of Mary Shelley’s work,” you half-joke as you nod towards the faded green and blue books. You look at Melissa for a moment, reading her face quickly before leaning into her space, “don’t even suggest stealing them.”

“Would they even notice?”

“These IPA-enjoyers? Definitely, unfortunately.”

Melissa never cared much for the classics, especially not the ones assigned to her in school. She preferred the historical fiction and true crime novels her grandfather introduced her to, but there was something intriguing about the ones you were showing her. There is peace in the way your fingers trace over the pages, a sort of reverence in how you hold each book. Sylvia Plath and Emily Brontë, Greek tragedies and comedies, they never sounded this interesting as they did when they came from your lips.

The world outside of this hidden corner continues to disappear around the two of you, the prying eyes peeking around the corner are completely lost on the two of you. Your eyes on the books, Melissa’s eyes on you. Ava and Barbara’s eyes, on the other hand, were flicking between the two of you before finding each other's eyes. A shared nod began the next step in their plan.

Ava, in a highly out of character fashion, quietly left the bar without saying anything to anyone, and drove off towards Iggy’s apartment. Barbara, pretending not to notice, went back to her conversation with Gregory regarding what he plans on growing in the garden for springtime. It’s Janine who notices Ava’s lacking presence, she peeks out into the parking lot, and sure enough, the silver car you’d arrived in was gone.

In a child-like fashion, Janine tugs on Barbara’s sleeve to gain her attention, “Ava’s gone.”

“What?” Barbara responds with faux surprise.

“Ava, she left. Like, gone. Not here,” without having to ask Barbara to be the one to tell you, Janine was definitely hinting at not being the one to say your best friend ditched you here.

The kindergarten teacher follows the maze of shelves, steps quickening as she gets closer to hushed voices in the furthest corner. In your own little, say you and Melissa, her legs stretched out as she leaned back against her hands while you sat close to her in criss-cross. There are two piles of older books in front of you, ones you had already shown her and the ones you were going to, and Melissa seemed completely unbothered by the infodumping you laid upon her.

Barbara politely clears her throat to make you aware of her presence, watching you nearly jumping away from Melissa as you realize the closeness between you. Pretending not to notice she speaks carefully, “dear, I just wanted to tell you that Ava left a couple of minutes ago.”

The nerves you felt dissipate, annoyance and a small anger taking its place, “what do you mean? She fully just left? Did she even say anything?”

“No, she must’ve snuck out. Janine noticed before the rest of us that she’d taken off,” Barbara is impressed by her own ability to fib so easily.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, keeping yourself from exploding. You rise from your spot next to the redhead, who is quick to follow in your stride, and grab your phone to call you friend. Speedily stepping through the shelves, you step outside as you press Ava’s contact.

She picks up on the second ring, which only pisses you off further, “what’s up, boo?”

“Where the fuck are you? You did not just seriously ditch me,” you waste no time.

“That little library was not the vibe. Plus, you were too busy nerding it up with Red,” she jokes, almost mockingly.

“You were my ride, Ava,” you sigh, “this isn’t cool, especially when I’m going to have to ask Janine to drive me home since she carpooled with Jacob and Gregory.”

“I know who you can ask for a ride,” the laugh she speaks through only hammers home your aggravation, “maybe she’ll give you more than one.”

A hard groan escapes your throat, “you owe me big time, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later,” she hangs up on you before you can respond, the beeping tone of the disconnection feels more mocking than your friend straight up laughing in your ear.

When you step back inside, your brows are furrowed, deep creases on your forehead as you practically steam with anger. Never before would Janine, Gregory, or Jacob say they were intimidated by you, but right now, they can’t deny that you are almost as frightening as Melissa’s angry walk. Barbara looks at Melissa pointedly, motioning with her head towards you to tell her to talk to you.

The redhead is already in motion, immediately in front of you, “what did she say?”

Sarcasm and irritation drop from your voice, “the ‘library’ wasn’t ‘her vibe,’ so she’s apparently ditching me to ride home with Gregory and the Chipmunks.”

She doesn’t want to laugh at your predicament, but she can’t help it. Her hand rises to rub your arm reassuringly, “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t ha-”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me get you home,” the gentleness in her voice makes the icy anger in you melt into a puddle, the hand on your arm was grounding.

“Okay,” your voice just above a whisper in the space between you.

“Okay,” her tone matching yours as she smiles.

Melissa’s car is warm, her presence beside you warmer. With only a couple blocks left before you reach your apartment, you find yourself wishing you knew how to slow, or even stop, time. Would inviting her upstairs seem forward? Is asking her if she wants coffee better? No, stupid, who wants coffee at ten at night? All you need is to be around her.

When her car parks in the lot of your building, neither of you move, not you to get out or her to tell you to. You turn your face towards her, resting your chin on your shoulder, peering through your lashes at her. She matches your position, looking back at you with a little grin.

“Thank you for listening to me,” your voice is quiet and insecure.

Melissa leans a little closer, “thank you for letting me.”

“I’ll see you Monday?” You don’t want to leave, but despite it being Friday, it has also been a school day. You’re tired, and you can see in her slightly droopy eyes that she is too.

“Bright and early,” she answers, eyes flicking to your lips shortly in a way you wish you hadn’t seen. She makes it impossible to want to leave.

Melissa stays in her parking spot until you disappear into the building, not before you glance once more at her and wave shyly. Her head rests against the steering wheel as she struggles to compose herself, before pulling out on the street.

You both fall asleep that night to dreams about the secret corner you’d found yourselves in, books stacked around while your eyes stayed on each other.

—☽—

There’s a certain pep in your step come Monday morning, but a small amount of dread knowing you’ll have to face Ava later. She knew better to keep her distance over the weekend, but though your annoyance with her was fading, it was definitely there. You push into the lounge, immediately gravitating towards the coffeemaker.

You enjoy the hum of the TV, Jim Gardener’s voice coming from the speakers as you focus on Melissa in your periphery. Clicking steps in the hallway stiffen your back, all eyes in the room shifting to you as your best friend, boss, and ditcher enters. The cocky smile on her face falls when you stand and leave the room without a word.

“Seriously? Still mad?” Ava asks with such a genuine tone that Gregory’s head drops into his hands.

Melissa speaks before Ava can even blink, feeling like she had to defend you after seeing how upset you’d been, “so selfish you couldn’t even give a heads up? Some best friend you are, ditching them.” Ava only responds by raising her hands in defeat, giving up on an argument with Melissa before it starts.

“You checking on that one or should I?” Mr. Johnson asks from the doorway where he’s collecting the trash, his eyes set on Melissa. His answer is just the second grade teacher pointing at herself in question, surprised that he would’ve thought of her to check on you. His face screws up, “duh? Who else?”

She listens. When Melissa reaches your classroom, quickly carried by fast and angry steps, she sees you at your whiteboard, writing the agenda and date on it. The unusually harsh strokes of your writing show her exactly what mood she’s walking into. She almost jumps when she knocks on the door and your head whips her way, hard face softening.

“Hey,” you breathe out, going back to writing the afternoon’s schedule.

“Hey. I just wanted to check on you,” she she says as she slides the orange marker down towards you.

“I’m fine, really. I’m mostly just pissed Ava left me like that and thinks it’s hilarious. You’d think I would be used to it by now, but apparently not,” you huff, “just like her mom always says, Ava’s gonna Ava.”

“How long you giving her the silent treatment?”

“Till she actually apologizes and doesn’t just assume it’s all good, it’s the only way. I’m not even that mad about it, if she wanted to leave she could’ve just said,” you shift your weight from foot to foot, “it’s the principle of it.”

Melissa glances over your face, grateful you don’t seem to notice, and she realizes it's less anger, more disappointment. It’s so starkly different from the smile that played on your lips and the gleam in your eyes just the other night. She so badly wants that back, she craves your smile.

It took three days for Ava to finally apologize, and she only does when she comes over to your apartment, no interest in letting the other hear her grovel. She hadn’t meant to make you upset, she was just trying to get you and Melissa alone, and so far, her efforts seemed to be working. She was diligent to not let out that it was a joint plan between her and Barbara, and that Melissa was getting played just as much as you.

—☽—

A snow storm Thursday night almost takes out your power, and the chill seeps through the brick walls, forcing you to bed early in a bundle of blankets. You wake up to your phone ringing at five in the morning, only a half hour before your alarm was to go off. Seeing Ava’s contact worried you immediately.

“What?” you say through a yawn, “are you okay?”

“Aw, you love me,” she jokes through her own large yawn.

“I do. Now, what do you want?”

“It’s a snow day, bitch. The roads aren’t too bad, but apparently the buses are fucked.”

You sigh with contentment, “snow day means I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, lazy. I’ll see you tomorrow for wine night?”

You can barely answer through another yawn, “yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

It’s not until ten that you wake up again, sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow and making your room too bright to stay asleep any longer. The air in the room is too cold for your taste, leaving you to wrap your throw blanket around yourself as you trudge out to your kitchen for the promise of warm coffee. As coffee drips into the pot, the star-printed throw is replaced by your favorite grey sweatshirt, the faded university logo still maintaining a touch of the maroon and silver it once was.

The second cup of coffee tastes of cinnamon and cream, the warmth keeping your hands from stiffening under the cold of your building. No matter how much you turned up the heat, the draft made it obsolete. As you pour a third cup, clinging to the warmth it gave, you feel your phone buzz in your Abbott sweatpants.

From Melissa: How busy are you today?

To Melissa: on a snow day? not at all. why? 

From Melissa: I’ve got a surprise for you.

To Melissa: should i be worried?

From Melissa: Do you trust me?

To Melissa: you know i do

When she doesn’t answer, anticipation starts to take hold. It hits you as you nervously sip your coffee, you’re still in your pajamas and Melissa is coming. You tumble down to your room, switching the sweatpants for an old pair of jeans, the faded sweatshirt for a thick black sweater, fluffy socks into slippers. Part of you grapples if you should make coffee for the both of you, the other part tells you a fourth cup may give you a heart attack upon seeing Melissa, your heart would never be able to take it.

A quiet ping from your phone alerts you that Melissa is down in the lot as she waits for you. You don’t even take a moment to answer, just quickly throwing on your denim jacket before hurrying down the steps to the bottom floor. Peeking your head out, you see the only car with lights on, the familiar black car making you smile. The snow had slowed overnight, wisps still quickly sticking to your hair and clothes.

Melissa doesn’t notice your approach, not until you tap on her frosted window with your knuckles, making her jump. She was lost in her mind, thinking about how bad of an idea it was, startling quickly at your tap, but quickly soothed by your smile and little wave. Melissa steps out of the car, leaning against it to keep you from peeking in her window and seeing the passenger seat.

“You really shouldn’t’ve driven, what if the roads were nasty?” you say with concern, despite the fact that you couldn’t be happier with her presence.

“They weren’t, I got here just fine,” she says, placating the worry.

You can’t even hide the smile that shows itself, “what sort of surprise was worth the black ice?”

“There was no black ice,” she laughs, shifting under your gaze, “but I hope it’s a surprise you’ll like.” There’s an unusual nervousness in her, one that you can’t help but feel and want to soothe.

“If it’s from you, I definitely will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Try me,” you cock your head to the side, a sly smirk on your face. Melissa ducks her face, concealing her blush. She opens the door, leaning in to grab the bag from the seat. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she composes herself before facing you. The paper bag is stretched out towards you, green eyes begging you to relieve her of this weight.

You try to be careful, not wanting the gentle snow to touch the contents. Peering up at Melissa, she urges you to open it. You reach in and feel something, a cloth covered board you think, until you feel what you think are pages. A book? No, three.

You pull back your hand, the books coming with it. A faded green cover with black serif text reads Frankenstein, the blue reads The Short-Stories of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley: A Complete Collection, and the final red one, Mathilda. The books you had fawned over a week ago were now in your hands, the very same you said you’d give your car for. No words form, only thick tears in your eyes that you pray don’t fall. They were the exact same books, the copies from the bar, and now they’re in your hands.

You can only look at the redhead, absolutely bewildered. She gives you a weak smile, having a hard time gauging your reaction and you slide the books back into the bag to protect them. There’s no warning, not verbal or even a glint in your eye, before you fling yourself onto her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, oh my fucking God, thank you, thank you, what the fuck?” your words fall out of your mouth, barely able to contain the delight running through your veins.

Melissa doesn’t answer right away, only wrapping her arms around you and basking in the feeling of you there. You smell like coffee and cinnamon, she wishes she could find out if your lips taste the same. Neither of you move, not wanting to be the one who breaks away first.

After a minute, your face lifts from her neck, but you don’t remove yourself from her arms. She meets your gaze, watching you watch her. Melissa is the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet, you’re sure of it. But right here, right now? She’d never been more so, nothing else compared to the snow stuck to her lashes, the pink of her cheeks from the chilled air, the lack of makeup across her skin allowing you to see all her freckles and the lines around her eyes.

“You got me the books,” it's a simple sentence, but there’s a weight to it that Melissa almost can’t handle.

She smiles so softly it makes you want to cry, “you love them, you wanted them.” The look in your eyes changes, and Melissa seems to notice. She finally speaks up, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is, at least I hope not,” you answer truthfully.

“Why that look on your face then?” Her lips look so soft, you have to tell her.

You swallow your pride, pursing your lips before telling her the thought that had been on your mind since you met her, “I really want to kiss you.”

It appears she feels the same, Melissa immediately leans into you, lips pressing to yours. You knew they’d be soft, and God were they. Her hands plant themselves on your hips while yours cup her neck, pulling her as close as you possibly can. Spinning suddenly, you find yourself pressed against her car, cold metal freezing you through your layers, but warm lips make the cold feel little. For someone so abrasive, Melissa was so soft, holding you like you were the most precious thing to her. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip, asking for entry. And who are you to deny her?

Her tongue traces yours, a groan comes from deep in your chest that only spurs her on further. She presses impossibly closer to you, hands sliding up to hold you at your ribs, pressing into your jacket in an attempt to get closer. Your blunt nails dig into her neck, not enough to hurt, just to feel more of her. All you’ve wanted since you met her was to be this close, and it felt like an unreachable dream until now.

Her lips pull away, only to be chased by yours. You press gentle, chaste kisses to her lips, and it only becomes more difficult as matching dopey grins grow on your faces. Her hand rises to your cheek, caressing the chilled skin that warms under her touch.

She barely hears your words over her rapidly beating heart, “you’re so pretty.”

“Haven’t seen yourself then, huh?” she jokes, pretending your statement didn’t make her feel like a giggly teenager.

“Funny, but I mean it. You’re so pretty,” your hand shifts around her cup her jaw, “I can’t believe you got those books for me. How?”

She smirks to herself, “I just asked nicely.”

“Nicely? Did you bat your lashes and give them that award-winning smile?” The sarcasm that should have been there sounds more like adoration, the lazy smile on your lips making them look even more kissable than they’d been before.

“Exactly, they just handed them right over,” she feels like a pile of mush with you looking at her like this.

The hand on her jaw pulls her in closer, “they’d be stupid not to.” There’s no chance to reply, just your lips pressing to hers again. It feels as easy as breathing with you, like she was supposed to be doing this the whole time. When you pull away, it’s just barely, a silent request in the way you stroke her cheek.

Reluctantly, she pulls away from you to take her keys out of the ignition and grabs her purse from the floor of the car. An arm wraps around hers as you lead her towards the door to your building, the other tightly holds the books against your chest. It was too soon to say it, but you knew that right here, right now, you were utterly in love with Melissa Schemmenti. The woman who probably threatened the employees at the Penman’s Alcove for the books when they said she couldn’t buy them, the one who listened for two hours as you spoke about authors and books she’d never cared about before.

She cared now. She cared because you did.

Melissa knew the moment you saw the books, that she would do whatever it takes to see that wonder on your face again. She thinks to herself that endeavor would be a good way to spend the rest of her life.

title is from a quote from mary shelley’s mathilda: “you are still, as you ever were, beyond beautiful expression.”

i chose the st. dominic for mel’s pendant bc hes typically worn by educators

feedback appreciated as always <3

[milaeth]

୨୧┊ 𝐈. 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇. ( lando norris )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part one ∿ part two

✧.* pairings ─ lando norris x fem! model! piastri! reader

✧.* genre ─ one-shot ⨾ slight angst & fluff

✧.* summary ─ in which Lando and his teammate Oscar film a lie detector challenge for McLaren's youtube video and Lando is asked if he has a secret crush on someone. nobody but Lando knows that the mysterious person who has stolen his heart without knowing it is none other than you, Oscar's sister.

✧.* warnings ─ none other than fluff and maybe a little angst

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ this is my first time writing anything on here! my first language isn’t english so pls have mercy lol. btw the reader is around the same age as lando!

Lando and his teammate Oscar sit across from each other, gathered around a table. it’s media day and they’re preparing to record the lie detector challenge for McLaren's youtube channel.

"are you two ready?" asks one of the crew members in charge of the camera and lighting equipment. Lando replies lightly, "as ready as we can be!" his remark makes Oscar chuckle and then nod. as soon as the cameraman says "action," however, Lando's mind begins to wander while Oscar explains the purpose of the video to the viewers.

his thoughts wander to you. even though he only saw you a few hours ago, he can't help but miss you. he may be embarrassed, but how can he not long for someone as amazing and beautiful as you? someone as unreachable as you.

the saddest part is that you don’t even know. you have no idea how incredible you are in Lando's eyes. without you knowing it, he's had a crush on you ever since you came into the paddock a year ago accompanied by your brother and his teammate Oscar Piastri. Lando developed these feelings for you around this time last year, but has kept them a secret from everyone ever since. It's ridiculous, it really is.

he knows that he can’t have you. you are a successful model who attracts the attention of countless men and women, and simply out of his league. not only that, but you’re his teammate's brother. but every time you talk to him and look at him, the glimmer of hope in him grows a little more, no matter how irrational it seems.

little do you know you warm Lando's heart by attending the races every two weeks to support your brother and passionately cheer for McLaren. even if your support isn’t exclusively for him, but for your brother Oscar, it still makes Lando feel great knowing that you’re at least cheering for the team he’s driving for.

Lando sighs softly, longing for more opportunities to talk with you. he wants to get to know you even better, to learn personal details hidden from the prying eyes of the media. he longs to be special to you, just as you are special to him.

"well someone's already planning how to trick and deceive the lie detector, aren't they?" Oscar's playful remark interrupts Lando's train of thought, his expression brimming with amusement. only now does Lando realize that he has been staring at the lie detector the entire time. his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he quickly looks away. has he been so obvious?

"what, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Lando exclaims dramatically, gasping in mock astonishment. he plays along with Oscar's teasing, trying to distract himself from the fact that he has been caught in his daydreams of you.

"sure," Oscar says, drawing out the word with a grin on his lips. "you do know how this works, though?" he asks, pointing to the toy in front of them, to which Lando silently shakes his head, "alright, you basically just have to put your hand on the metal part of the lie detector and then answer the questions I ask you truthfully. you'll get a shock if you lie, not if you don't, understand?"

Lando nods and tried to focus his attention on Oscar's explanation, which seems impossible as his mind automatically wants to wander back to you. this is supposed to be a fun and light-hearted video for the fans just before the race week, but Lando's heart racing at the mere thought of you reminds him how hard he has fallen for you.

Oscar decides to go first with the lie detector challenge, providing honest and sometimes not so honest answers, which leads to him being shocked and both of them bursting into laughter. a few minutes later, Oscar answers the final question written on the card in Lando’s hand. afterwards, Lando takes a deep breath. now it’s his turn to do the challenge.

he places his hand on the metal surface of the toy and feels a slight jolt of nervousness. he reminds himself that this is all just a game and he has nothing to lose. well, except his pride…

Oscar starts the first round of questions and everything goes smoothly. Lando focuses on giving honest answers and suppresses his distracting thoughts of you as best he can. but as the questions continue, Lando's thoughts occasionally drift back to you and the memories you both share.

like the first time you spoke to him, your bright smile, your beautiful eyes, and your genuine interest in him as a person that made him blush. he remembers the moments when your eyes always meet for a split second after a race, and the electric connection he feels, even if it's fleeting and one-sided. some might call these memories insignificant, but they're the ones that mean the most to him. because they're all he has.

but with the good memories come the not-so-good ones. like the numerous occasions when he failed to start a conversation or laugh with you. the occasions when he embarrassed himself and sometimes was even too nervous to speak in your presence without stuttering. the fear of rejection and his own self-doubt hold him back all the time, leaving him with regrets and what-if scenarios.

the lie detector test progresses, and Lando's thoughts return to the present when he notices Oscar's mischievous grin. he glances at the card in Oscar's hand, which has the rest of the questions on it.

"alright, mate," Oscar says, his voice filled with mock seriousness. "do you have a secret crush on someone?"

Lando's eyes widen and his heart skips a beat, surprised by the unexpected question.

“umm,” he starts, contemplating his response with a pounding heart. a thousand thoughts race through his mind. should he lie or tell the truth?

"no..." he finally lies and nervously looks at the crew to his right for a second, while an embarrassed smile threatens to form on his face. Oscar smirks and raises an eyebrow, not once breaking eye contact with his teammate. Lando immediately notices the amused twinkle in his eyes, clearly aware of his embarrassment.

the room falls silent and everyone waits curiously for the result. time suddenly seems to slip by in slow motion. then, without warning, an electric shock goes through Lando’s hand, sending a shockwave up his arm. his eyes widen and a quiet yelp escapes his lips as he flinches from the unexpected sensation. he quickly removes his hand from the toy and groans. he can hear Oscar laughing, obviously amused by the sight of his head lying on the table in pain.

"well, well, well," Oscar exclaims, a mischievous grin tucking at his lips and amusement still dancing in his eyes, "care to tell us who this mysterious person is?" Lando laughs, “no thanks, I’d rather not!”

"oh, come on. we all want to know who you fell in love with!" Oscar's teasing tone makes Lando roll his eyes playfully as he sits up in his chair. "she’s not even my girlfriend!" he exclaims. "not yet," Oscar wiggles his eyebrows and Lando groans in fake annoyance.

“i'm not going to tell you who she is.” Lando declares, and Oscar lets out a fake, sad ‘aww’, “i wouldn't even say i’m in love, you know.. i don’t know her well enough to call it love.” Oscar nods understandingly.

“but you like her, don’t you?”

Lando smiles at that, thinking of your contagious laugh and amazing personality. “yes, i really, really like her.”

Oscar's gaze softens, a knowing glint in his eyes and a genuine smile on his face as he observes Lando. he knows what a person in love looks like, and Lando is definitely head over heels in love.

“then you should think about taking a chance,” he says with a gentle smile. “life is too short to hide such strong emotions. who knows? maybe this mysterious person feels the same way.” he winks and Lando smiles and looks down at his hands. you feeling the same way about him? that’s too good to be true.

“i don’t think so,” he replies with a shrug, “but we’ll see.”

little does he know that fate has its own plans, and that the path of their intertwined stories is slowly unfolding. the love Lando carries in his heart will soon find its way to the one person who unknowingly captured it…

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

© milaeth | 2023

[cosmiiwrites]

Omg can you please do an Alastor x reader (gn + platonic)

Basically where readers ex won’t leave them alone (always stalking their socials and goes around asking for them) so Alastor steps up and helped the reader. Would be greatly appreciated 😭🙏

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ ex’s and oh’s

·:¨༺ platonic!alastor x reader ༻¨:·

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which alastor puts your obsessive ex back in line cw: cussing, violence, obsessive behaviors a/n: JSBNJDHS THANK YOU FOR 120 FOLLOWERS OH MY GOSH??? also i hope this is good, i dont usually write for alastor😭 you frowned at your phone, a notification from no other than your ex being the cause. "thought running off to some shitty hotel would keep me away from you?" the message read. it was the third time you'd had to delete one of their comments. honestly, it was getting tiring. you'd moved on weeks ago! every time you'd block their account, they'd just make a new one. you sighed, deciding that putting down your phone would be the best option. your peace lasted about five minutes before charlie called you downstairs. "uhm, [name]? there's someone down here who'd like to meet you..." she said, suspicion evident in her voice.

you made your way to the railing of the stairs, before stopping abruptly. your ex was right outside the hotel doors, looking in every direction frantically. hoping to catch sight of you. "why is-" charlie pulled you aside before they noticed you. "we tried sending them away," she sighed, "but they wouldn't budge!" "charlie, it's alright." you reassured. "just tell them i'm not here." she gave a curt thumbs-up before retreating downstairs.

———

“of course they’re here, the little shit’s probably just hiding,” your ex spat. they’d been arguing with charlie for the past half hour trying to get to you. alastor’s smile grew irritated at the sight.

“well-“ “i’ll handle this one, my dear.” alastor interrupted. charlie gave him a nervous nod before letting him drag your ex by the collar.

the hallway lights flickered as alastor forced your ex into a corner. “what the fuck do you think your doing?” the smaller demon protested.

“you’ve been causing disturbances in my hotel. i can’t allow that.” alastor snarled, voice dripping with poison.

your ex scoffed. a mistake. “the fuck are you gonna do about i-“ they were cut off by a hand to their throat. with alastor’s free hand, he grabbed your ex’s arm, locking them in place.

“here’s whats going to happen.” alastor deadpanned. the lights were flickering more fervently now. “you are going to leave this hotel without any complaints.” his antlers grew as he continued, eyes darkening. “and if i catch you bothering my dear friend again,” alastor leaned into the trembling demon’s ear. “i’ll rip your insides out and broadcast your screams for all of hell to hear. you’ll set a prime example of what happens to pathetic wretches who dare cross my path. do you understand?”

your ex’s lack of response displeased alastor. alastor’s nails dug deep into the demon’s arm, drawing blood and emitting a loud cry from your ex. “i said, do you understand?” he repeated darkly.

“yes, yes—fuck! get off of me!” the demon cried, hand clawing around their neck in hopes to loosen alastor’s grip. which was unsuccessful. “glad we both can settle on an agreement.” the lights went back to normal, and alastor went back to his usual calm and collected demeanor. he discarded his hands from your ex and wiped them on his coat.

your ex flew out the hotel doors in less than 30 seconds.

———

few hours later

“hey, charlie, how’d you get my ex to leave?” you questioned. “yeah, that bitch was NOT going nowhere,” angel chimed, eyes still glued to his phone. “how’d you even survive dating a fool like them?” you sighed at his comment. “well, they’re an ex for a reason…”

“but back to the main question. how DID you get them to leave?” charlie gave you a nervous smile. “well…”

“i handled them myself.” alastor quipped. “it was quite easy, might i add.” his grin sharpened, as if he was proud himself. he was, and for good reason! angel cocked a brow. “yeahh, we’re never seein’ them again, are we?”

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: After Eddie drives you home, he keeps his promise to get the books you recommended from the library and also visits you at work.

Part 1

Eddie didn't believe in fate, destiny or any of that shit but he was pretty sure it was something like that that had made him end up locked in the library with you, of all people at the school.

You were the only person who ever interested Eddie enough to make him look up when you entered the cafeteria, you were one of the few people who probably never gave him an offensive comment in the whole school and you even saved his poor chimera from the trash bin.

When Eddie had noticed that he was locked in the library, he had initially thought it was a stupid prank but when he realized that he was not only he supposed that Miss Cooper had just assumed that everyone had gone away and closed the library.

And of all the people who could have been there at that moment it was you. Eddie didn't know whether to laugh or smash his head against the wall.

Initially, he'd thought that you'd get mad at him, yell at him that it was his fault (for some reason he didn't even know) or you would have been scared to know you were locked in there with him.

Instead you were nice to him. And Eddie had found himself loving the sound of your laughter echoing through the library so much that he wished he could record it and listen to it whenever he wanted.

Eddie had thought that when you'd given him the drawing you had saved from the trash, he could kiss you instantly, but you'd probably find that weird.

He started the engine of his van while you sat next to him in the front seat, brushing a few strands of wet hair from your forehead.

Eddie could still almost feel the ghost of your hand on his back, even though it wasn't there anymore.

"I can't believe it." You said, your voice slightly louder than usual to make him hear what you were saying despite the incessant rain pounding on the van.

"Yeah, I mean... you pushed Jason and you-"

"I'm not talking about that, Eddie. We forgot the books!"

He chuckled. "You just yelled at your friends and you are worrying about some books?"

"We left Carrie there!"

Eddie really laughed this time, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, not hiding his smile. "Tomorrow I'm going back to the library and I'll get all the books you recommended, okay?"

"Okay, be careful not to get locked in again."

"Oh wow, someone's being a little too sassy here. You know you've been stuck there too, right?" His gaze kept moving from the road in front of him to you, a smirk was on his lips.

"Oh, I bet you liked it!"

"Staying there with you all that time? Let's just say that of all the people who might have been there when the library closed, you're not one of the worst."

"Well, you, on the other hand, are very fun to hang out with." It was obvious you weren't lying or joking anymore and that made Eddie speechless for a moment.

Your tone was more serious but still kind as you kept talking, "I'm glad it was you."

The grip of his hands on the wheel suddenly tightened, he wasn't used to speaking openly about his feelings and it was so normal for him to be prepared for rejection and people looking down on him that he found himself unable to respond immediately.

"I'm glad it was you too." He didn't move his gaze from the road in front of him this time but he swore he felt you smile.

Maybe he had been completely gone for you for some time and didn't even realize it.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you've been driving empty for about ten minutes."

"Shit, where- where do you live?"

"Why didn't you ask me before?" You laughed.

"Because you distracted me! You talk a lot, you know?"

You laughed again and shook your head slightly, Eddie realized he loved making you smile. "You know the new record store that opened like two weeks ago? I basically live in front of it, on the other side of the road."

Eddie nodded. "Have you already been there? They say it's pretty cool."

"Yeah but you know who's even cooler? The girl who works there almost every afternoon. I think she's the one who attracts all those customers."

Eddie turned his head in your direction, a curious expression in his eyes. "Do you...?"

"Yeah" You admitted with a laugh. "I work there. You should pass by sometime. I could use some company."

"Do you want my company or my money?" He joked.

"Mh... both?"

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"No but really, my days are filled with boredom and little girls buying Dolly Parton. You should come by and say hi sometime."

"Mh. Maybe."

"I don't like maybes. When I say maybe I usually mean no so-"

"I'll come say hi, Y/N. I swear on my honor. I'll come." He chuckled placing a hand on his chest, where his heart was.

"Okay, fine." You smiled as Eddie parked the van at the side of a long road illuminated by many street lamps that reflected their light on the puddles on the ground.

"I live right there." You tapped your finger on the window, poiting to your house. "Thank you for the ride."

"It's okay." He said as you got out of the van.

"Well, see you soon. Unless you'll pretend you don't know me when we go back to school." He rolled down the window, talking to you through it.

You stared at him for a moment, as if amazed by what he had just said. "How could I?"

Eddie couldn't help but smile as he watched you walk up to the front door.

He never thought that being locked in the school library with someone could change his life.

The next day, the sun returned to shine on Hawkings as if the rain of the day before had never existed and you came back to school with the hope to see Eddie again.

"You don't understand." You shook your head as you grabbed a book from your locker before meeting Jess's gaze again.

You had been at school for about ten minutes and Jess and Debby didn't waste a second to cover you with questions and reproaches about what had happened the day before. As if it was their right to know.

"No, the only one who doesn't understand here is you. You had been locked in the library with him and then he even gave you a ride home. The whole thing is jusy so fucking creepy."

"You don't even know him! He could have had bad intentions or hurt you." Debby added with a troubled expression painted on her face.

"Well, I certainly know him better than you two and I can assure you he's nothing like you ever thought of him."

"But he's-"

"Stop it, Jess. Eddie treated me better during the three hours ee spent together than Beck treated you in four months."

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but when she realized she had no idea what to say, she slowly closed her lips again.

"Trust me. He's kind and funny and-" You suddenly remembered something, "and he has to get some books from the library or I'll get very mad with him." You added with a little smile forming on your lips.

You didn't know if it was because the idea that Eddie absolutely had to read the books you'd recommended made you laugh or if it was simply the thought of Eddie that made you smile.

"I gotta go!" You yelled at the girls you left in the hallway behind you on your way to the library.

Classes had yet to start and the hallways were already full of students and you found yourself looking for a certain metalhead with your gaze without even realizing it. Most of the time he was late to class so it wouldn't be unusual for him to still be chatting with the Hellfire club in the parking lot or smoking the first joint of the day in the woods near the school.

"Good morning Miss Cooper!" You greeted the lady as you entered the library, "I would suggest you to clearly announce when you close or you risk locking someone inside."

"Oh dear, did something happen?"

"Nah, nothing to worry about." You smiled, looking across her desk for the stack of books you'd left there the day before. "Do you know by any chance what happened to the books that were up here?"

"I was about to put them back in their places, thinking someone had forgotten them or changed their mind, but that weird guy with crazy hair who always wears black came to get them."

Oh. So Eddie kept his promise.

"Okay. Well, thank you so much. Have a good day." You told the lady as she saw you leave with a slight confused expression on her face.

Eddie showed up three minutes late for class, nothing that could really get him in trouble or get him a detention, and he sat down at an empty desk just a few feet from yours.

"You took the books." You whispered and he lifted his head in your direction with a slight smile on his lips as soon as he heard your voice.

"You keep doubting my honesty. I promised." He whispered back as the teacher's voice just became more of a background to your conversation with Eddie.

"Okay, sorry. I didn't think you were actually going to do that." You laughed.

"Well, I-"

"Mr. Munson!" The teacher interrupted your chat, "it's the hundredth time I've told you not to disturb the-"

"It's my fault." You said before he could continue, "I'm sorry, it's my fault."

The teacher lingered for a moment, glancing from you to Eddie and back again as if it weren't possible that for once, Eddie Munson wasn't the one doing something he shouldn't be doing.

"Don't let that happen again." He said finally, before starting the explanation again.

Eddie looked at you for a moment like he wouldn't in a million years expect someone to defend him in front of a teacher without a second thought. Maybe because no one had ever done that and it had always been easy to blame him even when it wasn't his fault and the teachers had always believed it.

"What?" You whispered again, almost without even realizing you were breaking the rules again.

"Nothing." He smiled softly, his big brown eyes catching the light filtering through the classroom windows letting you notice the gold hues in them were still on you, "nothing, really."

You just smiled back.

Like every late afternoon you were at the record store. You liked working there even if you told Eddie it was boring (maybe you did it just to get him to come there).

You liked trying to guess what kind of music each customer would buy as soon as they set foot in the shop, you liked choosing the songs to play in the background and you liked giving advice when someone was undecided or had to make a gift.

You loved how such different people came in there every day.

"Have a good day!" You said to a lady who seemed to be in her 60s, who had just bought some music from the 20s and 30s, as she left the shop, making bell on the door tinkle.

You saw through the glass wall how her shining smile suddenly disappeared as she ran into the group of boys about to enter.

You chuckled at the way she avoided them like the plague, quickly heading the other way they were coming in an almost comical way.

"Hey, am I that ugly? I think I just made that old lady run away." Eddie's familiar voice commented when he finally entered the store.

"I can assure you you're not." You laughed as the group got in the shop.

You saw the guy with short curly hair nudging his darker-skinned friend, muttering something you couldn't hear, and then chuckled afterwards, maybe because of what you just said.

You weren't sure if what was going on between you and Eddie was flirting or something like that, but you sure were honest: you'd always found Eddie pretty.

He smiled at you as he rested his elbows on the counter, in front of you.

"Hey stranger." You greeted him.

"You see? I kept my promise, again."

"Well, thanks. You also brought more customers, it means more money."

"Oh, right." He seemed to suddenly remember his friends "These three kind gentlemen are Gareth, Jeff and Grant." he pointed to the guys behind him "and my dear friends, this is Y/N, the fair lady I had the pleasure of being locked in the library with a few days ago."

You looked at the three boys, you'd seen them all in school before, you even had a few classes with some of them, and you'd always seen them sitting at the Hellfire table with Eddie and their other friends. They wore leather jackets, ripped jeans and T-shirts with the names of bands you knew except one: Corroded Coffin.

You weren't sure if it was a band name since you'd never heard it before but then again, you'd been working at the record store for less than a month and you definitely didn't know all the bands that existed in the world.

"Dude, don't pretend you haven't talked about her 24/7 for the last couple of days." Grant commented with a tiny smirk on his lips.

Eddie scoffed. "That's not true, don't listen to them. We're honestly not even that close of friends, I hardly know them." Eddie hurried to reply, a tinge of red rising on his cheeks.

"Hey! That's not true!" Jeff hit his shoulder and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Look, do you only have Cyndi Lauper here or…” Gareth started asking before you cut him off.

"Metal is on your left."

The three boys immediately headed towards the area you had indicated to them, you thought you heard a whispered "I like her" from one of them but you weren't sure.

"Your friends are cool." You said to Eddie, still leaning on the counter. There seemed to be something there that interested him more than music.

"Don't say it too loud or they'll get to their heads."

You chuckled.

"You don't buy anything?" You asked then, noting that he seemed to have no intention of joining his friends.

"Nah, not this time. They will surely find something. Maybe next time."

"There will be a next time?"

"Of course. You were absolutely right. The girl who works in this new record store is really pretty."

"Oh, I never said she's pretty, just cool."

"Then I say so. She is."

You laughed, shaking your head slightly. It was amazing how Eddie could say the silliest and most trivial things and it only made you like him more.

"Well... who's Corroded Coffin?"

Eddie frowned. "How do you...We're so famous and nobody ever even told me?"

You laughed again. "It's written on your friend's shirt, dumbass."

"Oh! Oh, right. It's my band. I mean, our band." He pointed at first himself and then his friends who were checking some Black Sabbath records. "We have a band."

"Well, Eddie Munson, I gotta say you get more interesting every time I talk to you."

Eddie chuckled. "I swear we don't suck. Even though a lot of people think we do. We play at the Hideout sometimes. You should come, I think... I think you'd have fun."

"Okaaay... you want us to go away and leave you two alone?" Gareth cut you off before you could say you would happily go to see them play, placing two records and twenty bucks on the counter with a slight smile on his lips and you rolled your eyes before handing him the change.

"Well, thanks for stopping by guys, hope to see you again soon."

"Wait" Jeff threw up his hands as if to make sure no one moved. "He didn't ask you out?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Dude!" Gareth poked Eddie on the shoulder, "that's what we came here for! You had one thing to do!"

Eddie snorted, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "I hate you guys."

"You know, you can try now." You smiled before Eddie's gaze met yours again, big brown eyes staring at you hesitantly.

"Try what?"

"Asking me out."

"Oh, right. Yeah. Would you..."

"More confidence! Look her in the eye!" His friends cheered him on from behind and you chuckled at their almost better reaction than the cheerleaders at school.

"Wo...would you like to go out with me?"

"Don't stammer!" Grant exclaimed.

Eddie propped his elbows on the counter again, hiding his face with his hands. "Please just say yes."

You reached out to slowly remove his hands with yours, meeting again two big eyes this time surprised and curious by your kind reaction. "Yes, I'd like to go out with you."

A chorus of "yes!" and "finally!" came from Eddie's friends and you immediately burst out laughing. Your hands were now resting on the counter but still holding Eddie's in yours.

"Sorry," Gareth said, "it doesn't happen often. I mean Eddie having a date."

"What about Saturday when you finish your shift?" Eddie asked.

"Sounds good to me."

"Other customers are coming." Jeff commented.

"We'll better take him away from you right now or he will never leave." Gareth added grabbing Eddie by the arm, starting to drag him away.

"It was nice to meet you!" Grant yelled.

"You too, guys!"

"See you soon!" Eddie smiled at you before the store door closed behind him.

You didn't know if they were aware of the fact that you could see them through the glass even if they couldn't see you, but you liked the way Eddie basically jumped as he reached his van, talking to his friends about what had just happened with a Cheshire Cat smile painted on his face.

God, you already loved that sweet, weird boy and you hadn't had your first date with him yet.

(This won't be a series!)

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx

Stuck tags: @sinna2sinna @saramelaniemoon @nix-rose @dulltraviolence @eggo-segual @princess-eddie @eddiemunsonlover35 @lightmelikeamatch @renaissan-vvitch @madaboutjoe @seventhlevelofhell

[littlelovelyra]

Now is not the time, nor the place.

Gale x FemTav/Reader(f)

Word count: ~1,914

Warnings: fluff(?) , Fingering, hand jobs, mouth stuff, kinda? C*m shot?

MINORS DNI

Disclaimer: I literally always put a disclaimer that I am by no means a writer, I just day dream a lot to escape my hectic work days and my somewhat chaotic life so I write down my day dreams and revisit them sometimes. Decided to publish them here so its easy for me to find. If it at least entertain one person thats a win for me :'D

Summary:

Having arrived at Last Light Inn several hours ago, your party convened and, following a discussion with Jaheira, reached a consensus to divide the patrol duties to ease the burden. Prior to this decision, after battling Kar'Niss,Gale openly confessed his physical attraction toward you only to immediately extinguish any flame that thought may have produced. Now, as chance would have it, both of you find yourselves on duty, strolling along the docks of Last Light Inn, having determined your partners through a draw of names. Suspicious. 

___________________________

“Now’s not the time nor place.” What. The. Fuck. Gale. Why even bother saying it at all? You curse the foolish wizard in your mind, focusing on the two small pouches placed in the middle of the table where you and your companions are seated, trying not to shoot daggers in his direction. You can feel his side glances as he looks at you.

“Well, as much as I love us sitting around and staring at one another—because who wouldn’t want to stare at me—who’s going to be the first to draw a name?” Astarion looks around the table, taking us all in. We’re all looking pretty tired, and no one wants to take the leap, fearing they might draw “first watch” from the second pouch after selecting their partner from the first.

“Oh gods above, fine, I’ll do it.” Astarion reaches his hand into the first pouch, retrieves a name, and then dips his hand into the second, pulling out a small piece of parchment. He clears his throat. “Well, Shadowheart, I guess you and I are taking tomorrow’s watch,” he says as a slow smirk spreads across his face. Lucky bastard, you think to yourself. As everyone else gathers the courage to draw, the order goes as follows:

Astarion / Shadowheart: Second Night

Karlach / Wyll: Third Night

Lae’Zel / Halsin: Fourth Night

You curse under your breath at the absolute joke that is your luck right now. Though, you feel luck might not have anything to do with it. You suspect Gale has somehow played his magic hand in this. You can practically feel his smugness vibrating across the table from you. As much as you care for him, these past few weeks have been confusing. From his reaction to the moment you shared in the Weave, to his dismissal at the tiefling party when you sought him out. He told you to go “enjoy the festivities,” which led you to a pretty little clearing with a vampire spawn—an experience you note never to repeat. Then, just before entering the Shadow-Cursed Lands, he received his charge from Mystra and accepted it without considering anyone else. To top it all off, he basically admitted his attraction to you and immediately shot it down. All this hot and cold behaviour has been giving you more headaches than the damn tadpole in your head. 

Releasing a soft sigh, you push yourself back from the table and stand up, eventually meeting his gaze. “Come on, Gale, we’re up first. Jaheira has assigned us to the dockside for our patrol.” You keep your tone cool and matter-of-fact. You will not make a fool of yourself chasing someone who clearly does not want to be chased. With all the chaos of dealing with the cultists, you have no time or energy for these petty games of the heart. He either wants you or he doesn’t, and it seems it’s the latter.

Gale follows you as you walk towards your quarters. As you reach your door, you look back at him. “Wait here, I need to change. These clothes are disgusting after killing that drider. I won’t be long. Maybe you should change too—it’s going to be a long night. Meet me back here in ten minutes.” Pressing your lips together awkwardly, you watch him hold your stare for a moment before giving a slight nod. He turns on his heel and heads toward the shared quarters. You’re grateful that your companions graciously agreed to give you the only private room in the Last Light Inn; gods know you need a bit of privacy to collect your thoughts.

In your room, you quickly change out of your clothes, wipe yourself down with a washcloth, redress, and braid your hair back. Looking in the mirror, you can see how tired you are from the journey. Closing your eyes, you mutter a short prayer to Selûne for the strength to get through the evening. A soft knock at the door catches your attention, and you cross the room to open it. Gale stands there with a fresh set of clothes, his hair now tamed, and even a bit of his beard trimmed. His eyes are as bright as ever, always seeming deep in thought, making you wonder what’s going on in his mind. “Stop it”, you think to yourself, “Now is not the time.”

You usher him out of the doorway and lead the way outside, down to the docks. You notice how close he is walking next to you, the silence is loud but every now and then his hand accidentally brushes up against yours and sends a soft shiver running up your arm. Again you wonder if he is using any magic to conjure up that effect on you. 

Walking to the edge of the dock, you scan the perimeter. Everything is quiet; it all seems as it should. You lean over the railing and glance at your reflection in the water, exhaling loudly. You stay there for a moment with your eyes shut, taking in the sounds of the flames softly flickering on the nearby torches and the occasional gentle splash of the water. It’s the most peaceful you’ve felt in a long time.

“Lost in thought?” Gale says as he places himself next to you, leaning down with his arms supporting him on the railing. You turn your head to face him and notice that his face is mere inches from yours. You linger there for a moment, your eyes scanning his face and finally your gaze falls to his lips, you wonder how they would feel pressed against yours. He catches your stare and the left side of his mouth pulls up into a soft smirk.

“Actually, I’m not thinking at all.” You say pushing yourself up you ready yourself to leave this side of the dock and continue your sweep of the area. As you turn to leave, Gale grabs your hand. You turn to him puzzled.

“Let’s stay a moment longer, shall we? It’s quiet, and nothing will happen if we take a few selfish moments for ourselves.” His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, releasing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. You watch his gentle movements, marvelling at how hands so powerful can also be so tender. Your thoughts drift to how those very same hands might feel exploring your body, familiarising themselves with your secret places while bringing you to complete ecstasy. Your cheeks begin to flush at the mental image you have painted for yourself and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by him as he offers a soft clearing of his throat to pull your attention back to reality. 

“I meant every word I said, by the way.” He looks at you, expecting a response, but you're unsure what to say. Words elude you, so you remain silent, hoping he'll continue—and he does, simply because he’s Gale.

“I have never wanted you more than I do now. Seeing your cheeks flush just then only made my desire that much more uncontrollable. I keep waiting for the right moment to kiss you, to show you how much I want you. It has to be perfect—you deserve that. But perhaps, just for tonight, we can allow ourselves a bit of imperfection. Or an appetiser before the main course, if you will.”

He raises his hand and gently lifts your face towards his. Slowly, he lowers his lips to yours, tenderly moulding them to fit around yours. A soft whimper escapes your mouth, and you feel your knees shake as if they're about to give way to this moment. Sensing your thoughts, Gale places his other hand on your hip, steadying you and pulling you closer to him. Everything around you seems to disappear, and all that exists in this moment are the two of you, completely lost in each other's embrace.

As he starts to pull away, he leads you to the covered area of the dock—more private, secluded—and you see the intent in his stare. Slow he brings the two of you down onto the deck, gently he lowers you to your back while he positions himself above you. His lips come crashing down to yours once again but this time with urgency. He uses his free hand to roam its way under your clothes exploring your soft curves and taking his time familiarising himself with the shape of you. He delicately rubs the pad of his thumb over your peaked sensitive nipple which causes you to gasp at the sensation, heat pooling in your core. You shift your hips up towards him instinctively and he groans into your mouth while your tongues dance together. His hand slithering down, snaking its way to your heated centre. Slipping under your panties his fingers slide between your folds, you inhale sharply at the sensation. Gods above nothing in your fantasies even compare to what this feels like in real time. Gale lets out a low groan. “Mhm. You are so ready for me my love. I want that to be perfect so this will just have to do for now.” as he finishes his sentence he slides two of his fingers inside you and curls them upward. Slowly pumping them in and out while his kisses become frenzied.

Your hands go exploring on their own and you find him, hard and ready. You can feel it pulsing through his trousers. The growl that escapes his lips is inviting enough for you, reaching in as you pull his length out and begin stroking him tenderly at first and then more desperately as you feel him rocking his hips in time with your hand. His hand is still working inside you and the two of you become desperate as the pace picks up. You lift your shirt up exposing your breasts with your spare hand and he brings his head down as he sucks in the swollen peak of your breast. You can feel it, the two of you are so close. 

“Gale.. Gale.. I’m going to…” You're breathless now. You can’t get it out, your head is dizzying. 

He brings his mouth to your ear, his breath hot as he whispers;  “Let go. Cum for me”. 

That’s all it takes. Your whole body shatters around him as his name escapes your lips in pure unfiltered ecstasy. He comes undone seconds later, you feel a warm splash on your bare stomach and he brings his head down to rest his forehead on yours. Softly he kisses you again before you both straighten out your clothing and smooth your hair. Silently you sit there leaning into him on the deck looking out over the water. 

“I have a confession to make.” He says scattering kisses down your cheek.

“Mhmmm… Let me guess? You rigged the pouches somehow to be partnered with me tonight?” You say looking at him.

He flashes you a wicked smile and kisses you deeply as you both stand up to continue a sweep of the perimeter. You are on duty after all and now is not the time.. nor the place.

[guiltyasdave]

end game

series masterlist • this is part VII

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Heartbreak, an explanation and an epilogue.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, heartbreak, depression, mention of weight loss, fluff, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), basically free use kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, Dave is a menace, praise kink, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: the biggest thank you to @joelscurls for letting me scream about this again and againnnnn, and reading over my drafts countless times, you’re the best, jess! <3

thank you to @daddy-dins-girl for talking plot holes with me and motivating me to write <3

thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series, i have received sooooo many kind words, feedback and just so much love. i started writing this as a pwp oneshot and the fact that it has turned into my first series ever and one that i had soooo much fun with is wild. i’m incredibly emotional about saying goodbye to my babies, maybe i’ll revisit them when i need to write some kinky shit out of my system haha. i hope that you like the ending that i’ve built for them.

a few words about the plot: i actually have zero clue how the hitman business works (shocker, i know), so some parts of this are purposefully vague in a way that i hope is believable and somewhat realistic. just roll with it, thanks :D

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here & follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates.

The first week you don’t hear from Dave, you’re confused, but not necessarily worried yet. There have been weeks of silence in the past, though you’ll admit that you had thought that things might be… different now.

Your texts to him stay on delivered, never switching to read. Which has also happened before, especially when he was away on business, but still… The thought that he has gone back to his normal life without sparing as much as a glance back at your time together is nagging at you.

You can still feel his hands on your skin, can still hear him whisper in your ear how beautiful you look, how perfect you are for him. It’s hard to come to terms with the thought that it wasn’t real, that his words and actions didn’t hold the same weight for him that they did for you. Reality has finally caught up to you and it hurts.

When two weeks blend into three weeks and you’ve still heard nothing, you start getting worried. He had said his line of work was dangerous, after all.

Your conversation, still so close and yet a lifetime ago, echoes in your mind. 'Nothing's gonna happen,’ you had said. ‘Not to the girls, not to me. And not to you.’ And not to you. ‘You don’t know that, sweetheart,’ his voice rings through your head. Sweetheart. The word tastes bitter on your tongue and wraps itself around your chest until you feel like you’re choking with it, like you can’t draw breath into your lungs anymore.

Sweetheart.

You don’t know that.

Sweetheart.

You start looking him up online, to find anything that might at least tell you that he’s okay. You don’t want to believe that he would be cruel enough to ghost you, but you barely dare to consider the alternative. You find nothing, no mention of his name, like he doesn’t even exist.

Your calls stay unanswered, your messages stay unread. You find yourself subconsciously checking your texts and your emails countless times a day, catch yourself staring out of your window in the blind hope that he might appear outside. He wouldn’t just leave you like this, would he? Would he?

Days blur into weeks and eventually into months. You’re painfully aware that it’s not healthy, this kind of heartbreak, especially not over a relationship that never even meant anything. If only your heart would understand that.

It was never serious enough that you told any of your friends about it, never wanted to be labeled as the girl that sleeps with married men, never wanted to admit your feelings to someone else when you could barely admit them to yourself. Regardless, even without knowing what exactly was going on, your friends had tried to be there for you, to convince you to go out with them, to cheer you up, but you had turned them down often enough that on this Friday night, your phone stays silent.

It’s better this way. All you want to do is rot away on your couch, staring at the TV with unseeing eyes until it’s an acceptable time to go to bed. Maybe it won’t take you hours of lying in the dark to fall asleep tonight. Maybe it won’t remind you of a different kind of darkness in a different room, a room where the sound of waves against the shore and the deep breaths beside you lulled you to sleep.

You need to get yourself together, your inner voice whispers. Next week, you think. Or the one after that.

A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts and you pad over, expecting to be met with the Chinese takeout that you had ordered in hopes of fueling your appetite at least a bit with the prospect of comfort food. Absentmindedly, you note the surprisingly short delivery time. You barely look up as you swing the door open, busy fiddling with your purse to extract a few dollar bills.

After finally managing to pull them out, you face the doorway. A greeting dies in your throat.

Familiar deep brown eyes burn into yours, framed by the face that you wish you’d forget but can’t. The short brown hair, the clean shaven jawline that you can still feel underneath your fingertips, the memory all too fresh in your mind. He looks tired, you think, and instantly scold yourself for knowing him well enough to even notice.

The seconds tick by as you motionlessly stare at him, blinking slowly, your mind running a mile a minute. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Are you making this up? If so, things are far worse than you had thought.

He clears his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. It’s probably the least sure of himself that you’ve ever seen him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his hand twitching like he almost reached out to you but changed his mind. “Can I- can I come in?”

You regard him for a moment longer. The sound of his voice makes him appear more real, and the fog in your head slowly clears. He’s alive. He’s here. In front of your door. Alive and well. Your emotions boil up inside of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You think you can just show up here after months and ask if you can come in? I thought you were… I thought…”

Your voice betrays you, breaking at the sharp sting of pain in your chest that you’ve fruitlessly tried to suppress and the feeling of your throat closing up. Tears spill over and you furiously wipe at your cheeks, determined to keep some semblance of dignity.

“I know,” Dave breathes, defeatedly. “I’m so sorry. Please let me explain.” His hand reaches towards you again. You shy away from his touch and an expression of hurt ripples across his face. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Your voice only trembles a little as you snap at him. After another look at his face, you eventually step aside and jerk your head towards your living area. You briefly think about how messy the place is, for how many weeks you didn’t have it in yourself to clean up. You can’t bring yourself to care. Seeing him walk through your flat again after being so painfully aware of his absence leaves you almost dizzy. You take the opposite ends of your couch, both of your bodies stiff, careful not to touch one another.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Explain.”

So he explains. How he received a call, barely thirty minutes after he stepped into his house, with a mission that was too perfect of an opportunity to pass it up. There had been no time to let you know, the risk too high to use his personal phone once he started working.

He goes back to the persona that took up half of his life for so long, the identity that is no more, the man that fell down a watchtower and was washed away by the sea. Body never found. At least that’s what everyone who knew this man thinks. Everyone who knew him, but not Dave York.

He’s been thorough with it, with the most important mission he’s ever done. There are no loose ends, no one who could trace things back to the real him.

It took longer than he had anticipated and he kept laying low afterwards, until he could be absolutely sure that no one would be looking for him anymore.

He doesn’t think that he’ll ever get rid of the worry, ever stop looking over his shoulder, but rationally, he knows that he did it. He got out.

Then he had talked to Carol, let her know that he wants a divorce. It had been- easy, almost. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream at him, just nodded like she had known this day would come for a long time. He thinks that she almost seemed relieved, in a way.

Your eyes had been glued to his face since he started speaking. Tears are silently running down your cheeks.

“I know that I should have found a way to contact you. I didn’t-” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know what to do. I was so worried that someone would find out about you. I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe that.” He knows that he looks a mess, that his desperation to make you understand is written all over his features.

Every day that he didn’t call you, he knew that he was hurting you. He tried justifying it with himself, that having you think he left you was better than risking somebody coming after you. It never gave him much comfort.

It’s even worse, now that he sees the damage he had done. You have lost weight, deep circles have formed under your eyes and you move like you’re barely holding yourself together. He saw the panic on your face when he tried reaching for you at the door. No matter what he had done to you in the past, you always sought out the safety of his touch afterwards. Until now.

“Please believe me,” he whispers.

You study his face for what feels like a lifetime. Tears are glistening on your lashes. You look so tired, so defeated that it makes his heart ache.

“You’ve done it?” you finally ask. Your voice is a quiet thing, barely bridging the distance between the two of you. A flicker of hope rings with it. “You’re safe now?”

He nods silently, fighting the urge to gather you in his arms, to promise you that he’ll always be there from now on. A small smile curves your lips upward as you mirror his nod, like you’re trying to let this new reality sink in.

“That’s good,” you murmur.

You lean forward, your fingers tentatively closing around his fist that’s clenched tightly against his thigh.

Hope flickers inside his chest. He can taste the three words that he’s been wanting to say to you for far too long on the tip of his tongue. He’s not going to, not right now, not today. But someday soon, he thinks that he might.

Two years later

“Bye girls, say hi to your mom and Matt from me,” you smile, embracing each of them in a tight hug before they dash out of the door, a jumble of giggles and excited chatter. Dave trails behind them with a grin on his face, pecking your lips and calling out for them to slow down.

Your heart is full, overflowing with love for this family that, against all odds, has become yours. You watch Dave usher his daughters into the car and push the doors closed behind them, the smile still on your lips. As you walk back into the house, your eyes linger on the thin silver band adorning your ring finger.

It’s still new, still an unexpected sight when you catch it on the edge of your periphery. It’s the tangible proof of you being the happiest you’ve ever been.

Things had been rough at first, after Dave came back to you. You understood why he handled the situation the way he did, but it took you a long time to trust that he wouldn’t disappear again. To believe that he left his old life behind, that he chose you. But he did.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the inevitable chaos that having the girls over for Dave’s days with them always creates. It’s not the life that you would have expected yourself to have a few years ago, but right now, it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

A few minutes later, your phone pings with a message from Dave.

Be back in 15. I expect you naked and on your knees waiting by the door.

You bite your lip, heat building inside you with rapid speed. Your phone pings again.

Don’t disappoint me.

Fuck. Wetness is already gathering between your legs as you jump into action.

The car door slamming shut has never sounded so good before. You’re listening intently, catching Dave’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the jingle of his keys before the door opens beside where you’re kneeling.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, watching the mix of smugness and adoration on his face as he takes in your position. A shudder runs through you and your nipples harden under his demanding gaze. He steps closer, caressing your cheek.

“Such a good girl… my obedient little wife, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, the coherent thoughts slowly draining from your brain and craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smiles down at you, his eyes glinting predatorily. You’ve come to know this shift into the darkness since you first met, but it’s more playful these days, not laced with the urgency that possessed him back then. Still, he gets intense, especially after having the girls over forces you to keep things rather tame during those days.

“Show me your ass, face on the ground, come on,” he demands coldly.

You obey without question, turning around and bending forward, pressing your upper body down to the floor and presenting your backside to him. He lands a couple of slaps on your cheeks and you flinch, moaning out softly. Your pussy already feels slick with arousal.

“What do you say?” he asks, rubbing his hand over the heated skin.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper.

Another slap hits you. “Do you know what you did to deserve this?”

You wrack your brain for a few moments, but come up blank.

“I- no, sir.” Your voice is small and breathy, your body bracing for the impact of his hand again.

He chuckles. “Nothing. I just felt like it.” Another slap. “And you’re mine to do as I please, isn’t that right?” Your thighs are trembling. You’re so wet that it feels like you’re dripping onto the floor.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You know what’s the most fucked up about this?” He crouches down beside your face and strokes your cheek softly, smiling down at you. “How much you whore like it.”

He straightens up and heads for the stairs. “Bedroom, come on.”

You don’t even try standing up, knowing that he won’t let you, and crawl behind him, which earns you another chuckle and a “good girl”.

The image of your naked form on your knees behind Dave who hasn’t removed a stitch of clothing sends another bolt of arousal through you. You’re desperate for him to touch you.

He roughly lifts you up and manhandles you onto the bed until you’re spread out underneath him.

“So…” He grabs your wrists and holds them over your head, pressing them into the mattress. “These stay right here, you hear me? Don’t move, or do I have to restrain you?”

You pout at the prospect of not being allowed to put your hands on him, but obediently hold them in place when he eases his grip on you. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He grins down at you. “I know you will. Got my girl well trained, haven’t I?”

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and your “yes, sir” comes out in a whimper.

He leans in closer, spreading your thighs wider with his body and you force yourself not to buck your hips up against him. The craving for any part of him to touch you, for any kind of friction, is overwhelming.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. Your pleading eyes hold his cold gaze as he’s leaning over you.

“Patience,” he growls. “Open your mouth.” A disapproving click of his tongue. “Wider.”

You part your lips as widely as you can, sticking your tongue out and trying not to squirm against the sheets. He remains motionless for a few seconds, taking in your desperate state with a cruel smirk on his face.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Then he tips his head forward and spits into your waiting mouth. The filthy feeling of his saliva coating your tongue and filling your mouth almost drives you insane with want and you groan, shifting against his thick thighs between yours, but to no avail. You wait for his next command, your mouth still wide open, not daring to swallow before he tells you to.

But no command comes. Instead, he reaches up to press two fingers down on your tongue, dipping into your mouth and smearing your combined spit over your face. The silver band on his ring finger is cool against your skin and you shudder, loving the reminder that he’s really, entirely yours.

Your body feels like it’s burning up, your hands are twitching and you’re desperate to move them, to touch him, to do something, but you hold yourself still until he finally tells you to, “swallow, baby.”

He smiles and finds your lips for a surprisingly soft kiss, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re being so good,” he tells you gently. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smile, chasing his lips when he pulls back, but he tuts at you and you fall back against the bed, huffing out a breath. “Just… please.”

“Patience,” he reminds you, the softness gone as quick as it came. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You bite your lip, but stay put while he stands up to finally start removing his clothes. He’s agonizingly slow with it, holding your hungry gaze while he unbuttons his shirt in unhurried movements that make you want to tear the clothes off his body yourself.

You drink him in, first the sight of his broad chest and his strong shoulders, then his muscular legs, and finally, making your mouth water and your pussy burn with desire, his cock.

As much as he keeps taunting you, you know him well enough by now to be able to tell that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, even when he’s trying to conceal it. He returns to you, sitting back on his haunches and drinking you in, until after what feels like hours, he finally reaches out and swirls his fingers through the wetness between your legs. It’s a barely there touch, but you’re so painfully turned on and sensitive that you let out a gasp.

“So fucking wet,” he marvels and applies the slightest bit of pressure to your clit. It’s enough to make you see stars and you’re sure that he could make you come just from this. But, of course he won’t. He laughs at your reaction and retracts his hand to lean forward instead until he’s on top of you again, your legs spread wide to accommodate him and his cock slides through your folds.

He lowers his head to nip and suck at the skin under your jaw, one hand toying with your breasts and your hardened nipples. Your whole body is buzzing, he’s so close and it’s so much, but it’s not enough, not enough, not enough.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, peppering your skin with kisses and rocking his hips in small movements that make his cock nudge at your clit over and over.

“F-fuck me, please, I’ll do anything,” you beg, your body still obediently stretched out underneath him with your arms above your head. He nods wordlessly and reaches down to position himself at your soaking entrance.

“Be as loud as you want,” he growls against your neck. “I missed making you scream.”

He bites at your skin at the same time as his thrust into you punches the air from your lungs. You scream, just like he asked, as he hammers into you, his lips still attached to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. The sensation of finally being filled by him, of feeling the stinging stretch of the way he forcefully pounds into you is like heaven. You think that you’re talking, crying out a mix of his name and sir and please over and over.

You’re flying towards your climax and judging from his groans, he can already feel you tighten around him.

“Go ahead,” he groans, before you’ve even strung the words to ask for permission together in your mind. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

He pinches your nipple just once and the additional sensation is enough to send you flying, your pussy clenching around his cock and drenching him in your arousal as you scream out his name. It’s pure bliss, and you never want to come down.

“That’s it,” he growls, not slowing his movements, fucking you through the aftershocks until you’re a whining mess beneath him, “that’s my perfect girl, fuck-”

You force your eyes open to smile up at him, taking in the wrecked expression on his face, relishing in the knowledge that you’re the one to make him look like this. You just really wish you could touch him.

“P-please, can I-” you’re breathless, barely able to speak, and jerk your head towards your hands above you.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his thrusts somehow growing even more forceful, “do whatever you want, baby.”

Your hands fly towards his body, touching every inch of his skin that you can reach, nails digging into his back and fingers grasping at his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until he’s everywhere, all you can see, all you can taste, all you can feel.

“Fuck!” he swears, grabbing your shoulders and holding you in place as he’s pounding into you, “give me another one, touch yourself, come on-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic and you know that he’s close to his own climax. It only takes a few swipes of your fingers over your clit until you’re coming again, soaring through the heights of your pleasure, your whole body trembling with your release. Dave’s hips stutter and he comes with a shout, pulsing inside of your fluttering pussy until finally, you both still.

He drops his sweat-slicked forehead against your chest, peppering your skin with kisses and engulfing you in the warmth of his arms. After cleaning you up, he moves your bodies until you’re tucked against his side, one arm thrown across his chest while he holds you close.

You’ll never get tired of the feeling of his naked body against yours, of the way he feels like he was made for you. By now, you can admit that he had always felt like this.

“I love you,” he says, lips moving against your hair.

You press your face deeper into his neck. “I love you.”

It’s easy, now. Words that you say every day.

…and i love YOU, thank you for reading! 🤍 if you liked this, a reblog or a comment would absolutely make my day.

[ninjatrashpanda]

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

[lanitalay]

At sea pt. 2

Rhysand x reader

a/n: I am terrible at naming fics lol

word count:1.4k warnings: none

Part 1

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You can’t control your face as your eyes widen and your mouth gapes at the news. 

“Oh…” is all you managed to say as an emptiness creeps up to your throat. He was your friend and nothing more. You had never so much as pecked the High Lord. There was no reason for such a reaction from you. It should not have shocked you, either. He would have had to marry eventually and the renegade daughter of an unstable sailor would not do anything to strengthen the court. “She accepted the proposal?” 

“Beron did”

That was another thing to consider. The High Lord of Autumn was well known for his cruelty. You could only imagine the life his only daughter had lived so far. Marrying Rhysand would be a mercy. It would grant her his protection, give her an escape from her rotten father. So being upset by the news was entirely selfish. You could not protest.  It would take every single one of your efforts to move on. But for the sake of the war, for the sake of maintaining peace amongst the courts and for helping a helpless female you would grit your teeth and accept that the attraction you felt to the male standing before you was hopeless.

“Congratulations are in order then, High Lord” you say with whatever smile you could muster. 

“I-” he begins but stops, looking away from you. His eyes remain on the drawings on the book in front of you and the air feels heavy with something bigger than your own sorrow. A few heartbeats later he returns his gaze to yours and offers you a solemn grin “thank you”. 

Weeks pass by as you catalog each new finding from your travels. Paula, your head researcher, was happy with the outcome of the expedition but that only meant more work for you as she asked you to write a meticulous article for each sample being cataloged. By the end of the day your hands were cramped and your writing was barely legible. The exhaustion was also mental, but that was more than welcome because in a few short days your High Lord would be marrying a princess. You were grateful for the fatigue as you reached your bed and collapsed into a dreamless sleep night after night. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to marry her” Mor’s voice bounces off the walls of Rhysands study. 

“There is no other way, cousin. Ever since the situation with Eris the Autumn Court has refused diplomatic relations. We need their fire wielders and their footmen to stand a chance against Hybern” the blonde sighs, exasperated. They have had this discussion plenty of times before. 

“You could hold off the wedding until after the war. Once everything is settled you can break it off” 

“Beron made it clear his compliance is reliant on us getting married before the leaves begin to brown” 

“You don’t love her! She’s basically a child Rhysand and you’d be condemning the rest of your life to be spent with a female who is not right for you” he massaged his temples as he listened to the same arguments she had been making since the announcement. 

“As High Lord I need to make sacrifices for the well being of the court. This is the price I must pay” 

“Cousin, please” 

“Mor, I can’t keep having this conversation” she heaves a breath and leaves the room. The slam of the door rattling the painting and shelves on the walls

“He’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, and gods above, I’m Kier’s daughter” Mor rants while pacing the length of your sitting room. She had winnowed to your apartment a few moments ago and knocked so loud on the door that you thought Hybern was invading. 

“He has his reasons, Mor” you breathe, trying to keep your composure. Hiding your unhappiness about the matter was easier when you did not think or talk about it. 

“You should talk to him, he always listens to you more than he does the rest of us” you begin to shake your head in negation but she insists “you were the only one that got through to him when he wanted to get that awful face tattoo”. 

“I only said I didn’t like it” 

“Exactly! He cares about your opinion. Just… talk to him. He won’t listen to me” you give her a stern look and she replies “please, I know he’ll live to regret it”. 

How could you tell your friend, the day before his wedding, that what he is doing is a mistake? He was not doing it with thoughtless intent. More backup was needed and he found a way to get it, at his own expense. What would be a good argument to convince him otherwise? Would he tell you to mind your business? Would this wreck your friendship? 

Three knocks on a wooden door alert him to your presence.

“Come in” 

“Hi, Rhys,” you greet him. Smiling as you see his face for the first time in weeks. He looks up from the paper he is reading and his features soften as soon as he spots you. 

“Hi, y/n” you shift on your feet. He clears his throat and motions towards a chair in front of the desk “sit, please”. When you sit he adds “what can I help you with?” 

The golden buttons of your blouse feel cool against your fingers as you fiddle with them. “I have to talk to you… about tomorrow”.

His jaw clenches in a way you are not used to “what about tomorrow?” 

“Are you positive you want to go through with it?” 

“Y/n I have no interest in debating my nuptials. It will happen tomorrow and I hope to see you there. But if not, then it won’t make a difference”. Burning fills your chest. Stinging warns you there’s tears that are threatening to spill over. He had never spoken to you like that. Not once. 

“Are you sure it is the right thing to do?” You manage to ask. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to go through with it?”

“Mor believes you’ll regret it, in time” 

“I did not ask about what Mor thinks, she has made her opinions clear. I asked if there is a reason you don’t want me to marry the princess?” 

You can only think of one. Selfishly, you think he'd be happier with you, in the long run. But confessing you have a crush the day before his wedding is too pathetic. He is thinking of everyone but himself. You are only thinking about him and yourself. So you lower your gaze back to the golden buttons, and say “no, I’m only here because Mor asked me to talk to you but I see you are certain so I’ll tell her I tried”. You stand and leave, refusing to meet his stare as you feel it burning at your back. 

For the second night in a row you hear knocks at your door. This time they are even and heavy handed. You smell him before reaching the knob and your heart sputters as if recoiling from who stands outside

“What is it, Rhys?” You ask, voice meek against the High Lord towering over you. 

“Why don’t you want me to marry the princess?” 

“I already told you” he remains in the doorway, eyes grave, breath unsteady. 

“Answer me truthfully” you step aside and motion for him to come inside, no need for your neighbors to hear about this. He walks in and immediately turns on his heels, you slam your back on your closed door and look up at him. His heart is also uneven, you’re close enough to hear it. 

“Rhys…”

“Y/n…. please… if you think I’m making a mistake I need you to tell me why” it hurts to see him like this. He’s not resplendent as usual, his shoulders are slanted and his head hangs low. 

Low enough you can feel his breath mixing with your own. 

“I…” you think of the war, of Hybern, of the princess and of the chaos that will unfold if this wedding does not happen. But then you think of your friend, of the male you love spending the rest of his days with another female and, thinking of yourself, knowing it is illogical and self centered, finish saying “I want to be the one you marry”.

[cyripticchronicler]

Ink and Destiny - Part 3

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I've had a hectic week. Thank you for all the support with my writing, I love you all ahhh.

@lilianelena39 Thank you for asking to be tagged! I hope you like it.

Masterlist

Part one Part two Part four

The days that followed were filled with shy touches and hidden smiles. It’s only been a week since you went on that date with James, and it hasn’t left your mind since. 

After eating, he’d ask you to read to him, you spent the rest of the date muttering the love story to James as he lay on his back, making comments now and then. 

The awkwardness of the first date was long gone, and you found yourself growing comfortable around him. He seemed more comfortable around you too, with the way he gripped your hand tightly in his or the way he relentlessly teased you. 

You were still quiet, barely muttering a few words but James filled in the silence. 

He was holding your hand now, you two having run into each other whilst you were on your way to the owlery. James had decided to ditch Sirius and Remus, claiming you were much nicer than them- earning a giggle from you and a scowl from Sirius. 

“You never finished that book,” James muttered, breaking the peaceful silence. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to know the ending,” You said honestly, James looked genuinely offended and you had to bite back a smile. 

“Of course I do, the letter was heartbreaking.” 

You grinned, “Well if you must know, he proposes again and she accepts.”

He let go of your hand, placing his hands over his ears as if it could erase what he just heard. “Spoilers!” 

You couldn't help the laugh that burst out of you, “The book came out years ago! There are spoilers everywhere!”

“Yes, but I was trying to hint at another date where you read to me again but I guess that’s not possible since you’ve told me the ending.” He grumbles, feigning anger as he reaches for your hand again. 

“Well…I never told you what happened to the others.”

He took the bait, “I am dying to know what happens with the others, so maybe if you’re up to it we could go on another date, say, this Saturday?” 

You pretended to think for a moment, “Saturday, hmm, I’m not sure.”

You both stop at the entrance of the owlery, James pulling you into him slightly. You couldn’t stop the blush painting your cheeks.

He’s never touched you like that before.

“I’ll beg if you want,” He whispers, laughing when you playfully hit his arm, cheeks redder than a tomato. 

“No begging is needed. Saturday is fine.” It left you three days to plan your outfit and mentally prepare. 

James grins triumphantly, following you around the owlery, hand still gently placed on your waist. 

—

You stared at the wobbly heart drawn on the inside of your wrist. You hadn’t noticed when it appeared but your eyes can’t look away. 

Not all soulmates are together romantically, sometimes they are platonic soulmates, hell, on rare occasions they’re enemies who despise each other. 

But there’s a part of you that hopes you and James are romantic soulmates. There’s also a part of you that’s still unsure about him. You two are complete opposites, you’re quiet, he’s loud, and you shrink away at any attention on you whereas James thrives in it. 

“Opposites attract, it’s basic science in the muggle world.” Lily had reassured you when you voiced your concerns. Maybe she was right. Merlin, you hoped she was right. 

But you push those thoughts away for now, noting you only have half an hour to finish getting ready. You’ll talk to James about your thoughts. If there’s one thing you hate most in romance books it is the miscommunication trope. 

You hastily draw a sloppy heart back before returning to your makeup. You keep it simple, applying a couple of coats of mascara and some concealer before adding lipgloss. 

Your outfit is simple, black jeans and the top you feel most comfortable in, paired with a thick coat to keep out the cold weather. 

You reach The Three Broomsticks in no time, relishing in the warmth. Noting James isn’t here yet, you find a secluded table in the corner.

A minute later James walks through the door, nose red from the cold. He perks up when he spots you, smiling warmly and he takes the seat across from you. 

You notice the heart on his wrist as he sits, his coat pulled up like he was staring at it just a moment ago. 

“You always seem to be here earlier than me, perhaps on our second date I’ll arrive an hour early to beat you.” Your heart flutters at the thought of him already planning a second date.

You’re silent, mind racing for something snarky to respond with. James doesn’t seem bothered by your silence, instead asks you if you’d like a butterbeer and you nod your head gratefully. 

You take the time he’s gone to calm your thoughts. It seems as if you haven’t pushed those thoughts from before down far enough.

“The weather has changed drastically since our first date, don’t you think?” James asks as he sits back down. You nod your head. Just two weeks ago you were wearing dresses but now it seems as if it’s going to snow at any moment. 

 “Climate change.” You respond dumbly. 

“I hope you brought the book with you, maybe we could find a quiet place for you to read for me. Or we could head back to the common room and you read to me there.”

You shake your head, “I couldn’t bring it, I didn’t want to risk bending it by putting it in a bag but didn’t want to risk getting it wet either.”

James seemed disappointed, “Later then, when we get back.”

You nod your head dumbly. 

“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.” James’s eyes shine with amusement, a hint of concern peeking through. 

“Do you think we’d be happy together?” You blurt, taking a sip of the butterbeer to busy your fidgeting hands. 

“Yes,” James answers honestly, with no hesitation. “Do you not…think we’d be happy together?” He asks rather nervously. 

“We’re quite different from each other.”

He ponders for a moment, “Different isn’t always a bad thing, Love. We balance each other out.”

“Oh.” You’ve never thought of it from that perspective. Awkwardly taking a sip of your drink, you meet James’s eyes. “I just… I’m not used to attention- I hate it actually- and you’re popular so I can’t help but think once everyone finds out we’re dating they’re going to pay more attention to me.”

You’ve only met a couple of times since the first date, and besides the walk to the owlery, it was in secrecy. 

“We don’t have to tell people straight away- whatever this is. It can be our little secret, for now, Love. Is there anything else worrying you?” 

You shake your head. “It’s not very secretive if we’re sitting together in broad daylight in one of the most popular stores in Hogsmeade.”

He drains the rest of his drink, “I guess we’ll have to find somewhere else to go. Come with me.” You don’t miss the glint of mischief in his eyes but go to follow him anyway. 

“Where are we going?” You whisper, desperately trying to catch up as he runs through the snow. He stops a few minutes later and you attempt to catch your breath as you examine your surroundings. 

“Where are we?” You ask when you don’t recognise the place. There's nothing and no one around, just the path you came from.

“You’re not going to murder me are you?” 

James laughs, stalking closer, “I don’t plan on it, no. I’m rather fond of you.” 

Your heart skips a beat, “Even if we’re so different?” 

He nods, a small smile painting his face as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Of course, my Love. It would just be boring if we were so alike.” 

You nod your head in agreement, “It would, wouldn't it?” Ever so slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as one of his hands go to hold your jaw. 

His lips touch yours and like last time they’re soft and warm but unlike before, the kiss is filled with hunger.

He pulls you closer against him and you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair. James immediately deepens the kiss, tongue swiping across yours and you pull away in shock. 

He doesn’t let you go far, nose burrowing into your neck, “I’m sorry, Love. You just taste so good.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, breathless.

He laughs, “Yeah, Oh.”

—-

“That's how it ends?” James asks you, peering up from where his head lays on your lap, your hand threading through his soft curls. 

You’re laying on your bed. The common room was too busy and James stated the boys would just bother them if they went to his room so you shyly offered to read to him in your room.

The girls were all doing their own thing tonight, thankfully giving you and James time alone. 

You immediately thought of other things you could be doing alone but James seemed determined to hear the rest of the book and you weren't sure you wanted to do those activities with him yet. 

“I don’t get why that’s your favourite book,” At your offended look he continues, “Sorry, Love, but that's such a bad ending.”

You laugh incredulously, “It’s not a bad ending! They end up happy and in love.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” He jokes and you roll your eyes. 

“If you’re not a hopeless romantic then I want you to leave right now.” You point to the door playfully and James leans up, face inches from yours. 

“I’ll become a hopeless romantic for you,” He mutters, looking at your lips. 

“Good.” You push him off the bed and he groans in fake pain. “Go to bed, the girls will be back soon and I’ll never hear the end of it if they spot James Potter in my bed.”

“Fine. I want to see you soon though, maybe after the Quiddich game next week?” 

“Won’t you be too busy celebrating the win?” 

“You think we’re going to win?” He asks, happiness and shyness clear in his voice. His cheeks turn red when you nod, “I can think of other ways to celebrate the win with you, Love.” 

You roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Go.”

He taps his lips and you can’t help but blush. You mean for it to be a quick peck but James has other ideas, tilting your head as he kisses you deeply. 

He places an open-mouthed kiss on your neck before leaving with a quick wink. 

As soon as the door closes you let out a squeal, kicking your feet as you hug your pillow to your chest tightly. 

“I heard that.” James’s voice resonates through the door. 

Your cheeks flush, “Go away.” 

His footsteps fade and you relax into your bed.

It’s only until the next morning that you notice the words on your wrist.

I’m kicking my feelings and squealing about you too. Not so different after all.

[e-dubbc11]

Son of the Sea

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, few swear words (courtesy of Little Raven and her godfather🤣), pregnancy, morning sickness, little distress but it all turns out alright.

Word Count: Around 5K-ish

Summary: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series This little family of three is getting a new addition and Little Raven is very excited for his arrival

A/N: I never thought this little series would turn into what it has become and I’m so happy everyone that has followed along from the beginning continues to follow and watch this family grow. Thank you!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The familiar wave of nausea washed over you as you stood at the stove trying to cook dinner without running to the bathroom. You learned quickly when you were pregnant with Little Raven that morning sickness didn’t always strike in the morning and that it basically showed its ugly face whenever it wanted to.

There were only a couple of scents that triggered your morning sickness and continued to bother you even after you had given birth. You had a favorite perfume that you wore every day before you got pregnant with Anna and now you couldn’t stand the smell of it on anyone and had to get rid of the nearly full bottle Billy had given you as a gift because it made you sick to your stomach.

The aroma of any meat cooking was what was bothering you at the moment but you weren’t positive you were pregnant yet. It was a very high possibility though. Just a handful of weeks ago, you and Billy had a wild romp in his tattoo chair.

He had even made mention of another baby after your intimate moment but you had put it out of your mind until right now as you pushed the ground beef around in the pan, trying to keep your stomach from retching.

“Maybe I am pregnant….” You thought to yourself before moving the pan to a cold burner, dropping the spatula, covering your mouth and running for the bathroom.

Billy and Little Raven were quietly drawing at the dining room table as you raced past them, into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut behind you. The porcelain cooled the inside of your wrists which brought your body temperature down a little. Even after everything was out, you continued to dry heave and that’s when you heard a slight knock on the door.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Billy asked softly against the door.

You couldn’t answer him right away as your stomach continued to do somersaults.

“Baby? I’m comin’ in ok?” He said in his familiar gentle tone.

Slowly, he opened the door and found you sitting on the bathroom floor with your back against the bathtub and one hand covering your eyes in embarrassment.

Without looking at him, you replied, “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you worse than this, my love. Remember your last birthday before you got pregnant with the little miss? At one point, I had to make sure you were still alive.” He flashed his million-dollar smile at you. “I’ve also watched a baby come out of you too soooooo…” Said Billy, leaning up against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest.

“That was a good birthday though.” You said, returning a gentle smile. “Riiiiiight up until I had that last shot of tequila.”

The two of you started to laugh.

Billy planted himself across from you on the floor, his long legs extended and feet resting at the sides of your hips with his knees bent. He took your hand in his and gently pulled you away from the bathtub so you were sitting upright and he swept a stray hair out of your eyes. His smile made you weak in the knees every time so you were happy you were already sitting down.

“Do you think maybe you’re…?” Billy asked, glancing at your stomach then back up to meet your gaze.

“It’s very possible, my love.” You replied, the corners of your mouth curled into a slight smile.

Just as you said that, you heard little feet running down the hallway.

“Well, we know she’s never gonna sneak up on anyone.” Billy said with a wide smile.

You started to laugh when you saw her little face in the doorway.

“Mommy, ok?” She asked. Her carbon colored eyes that were just like her fathers were full of concern.

“Awww, of course baby. Mommy’s ok.” You replied.

Billy looked at Little Raven and said, “Mommy just has a bit of an upset tummy.”

Anna glanced at her father and then looked over at you, satisfied with that answer and said, “I go get you my dinosaur, ok?”

Then she took off again down the hallway, and back into the dining room. She carried that stuffed dinosaur Shortcake had given her everywhere she went, and held it extra close when she didn’t feel well.

Billy pulled you in close so he could wrap his long arms around you. He leaned in to give you a kiss but you held up your hand to stop him.

“Uh, you might wanna hold off on that, lieutenant.” You said, covering your mouth.

With a wide smile, he kissed your forehead instead. “I’ll go finish dinner, sweet girl. You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

You nodded. “I’m ok, handsome. I’ll take a test in the morning.”

When you were pregnant with Anna, the perfume was really the only scent that triggered your morning sickness. Every other time, it just came out of nowhere but it was different this time. You noticed there were a few scents that bothered you aside from the meat.

Eggs, onions, and trash were bothering you a lot in the past week. Billy was constantly taking out the kitchen trash because you couldn’t stand the smell of it so even though you hadn’t taken a pregnancy test yet, you had a strong feeling of what it would say.

You heard little feet run down the hallway again followed by a little voice.

“Here, Mommy! My dinosaur make you feel better.” Said Anna, handing you her stuffed toy.

A loving smile stretched across your lips as your sweet little girl gave you her favorite stuffed animal to help you feel better.

You replied, softly, “Thank you, baby girl. I feel better already.”

**********

The Next Morning

You opened your eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the early morning sun spilling in through your bedroom window. The space next to you, Billy’s space, was empty and cold. He was probably sitting in the kitchen, drinking his coffee like he did every morning. Lately, you had been feeling more tired than usual so you didn’t feel him get out of bed.

You were ready to head to the kitchen to see him when you remembered there was an important test you had to take this morning. Digging through the cabinet under the sink, you found the box of pregnancy tests, took a deep breath, and opened the package.

The edge of the tub felt cool through your thin pajama pants as you sat there waiting for the timer on your phone to ring. The flashback of waiting to find out if you were pregnant the first time played in your head.

You remembered how nervous you were at the thought of becoming a mom, how scared you were to tell Billy the two of you were going to be parents and it was probably the most terrifying but exciting news you had ever received.

After what felt like hours, the timer on your phone went off. Timidly, you stood up and craned your neck to see what the results were. Two blue lines…you were pregnant…again. A sense of warmth flushed across your cheeks as your lips curled into a smile.

The tears that stung the back of your eyes were almost like a reflex; you didn’t mean for it to happen but it did anyway. You and Billy were going to have another baby and Anna Raven was going to be a big sister.

But the smile quickly disappeared from your face when you felt the familiar turning of your stomach. It was a good thing that you were already in the bathroom.

As soon as you walked toward the kitchen, a familiar sight was in front of you. Your handsome husband sitting at the breakfast bar, with a cup of coffee in front of him, and a pencil in his hand.

Billy was always drawing something.

“What are ya workin’ on, handsome?” You asked in a cheery tone.

Billy replied, “Well g’mornin’, beautiful.” He quickly turned the paper over so you couldn’t see what was on it. “You’re not allowed to see that yet.”

Slightly disappointed, you said, “Oh I’m not, huh?”

Biting down on his lower lip, he shook his head and replied with a wink, “It’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

You had the pregnancy test hidden behind your back.

“Well…speaking of surprises but not really. Surprise!” You said, chuckling as you showed him the positive test.

“We’re gonna have another baby?” He asked, softly.

Pointing at the test, you replied, “Well, according to this we are. I’ll have to make an appointment to find out—“

Billy cut you off when his lips collided with yours as he cupped your cheeks, tongue gently pressed against your teeth wanting to tangle with yours. His hands dropped from your cheeks to your belly. Billy was always very gentle with you when you were pregnant with Little Raven.

No matter how many times you told him you weren’t going to break, he was always very careful. Gently touching your stomach, he looked down then back up to meet your gaze and your tattooed hand rested on top of his. A wide smile stretched from ear to ear on his face; he just looked so happy.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you pulled him in close to touch your forehead to his, and you lightly scratched his scalp with your fingernails.

“You ready for another little Russo…Dad?” You asked with a warm smile.

Billy leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours.

“Even though we’ve done it before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.” He said, as he glanced down at the floor. “But we’re doin’ ok so far with Little Raven, right? We can handle another one.”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nodded and replied, “I’m sure we can, baby. We’ll wait a little before we tell Anna and then we can tell everyone else too.”

**********

“What my shirt say, Mommy?” Asked Anna, looking and pointing at the shirt she was wearing.

Helping Anna put on her jacket, you replied, “It says, ‘I’m going to be a big sister’ Remember what Mommy and Daddy told you yesterday? Mommy has a baby in her belly so you’re going to have a little brother or sister.”

With pure innocence in her voice, she asked, “Do I get to pick? I wanna sister.”

Chuckling, you replied, “Afraid not, baby girl. We don’t get to pick.”

Scrunching her nose, she asked with slight disappointment in her voice, “Are you sure?”

“We get what we get, Anna. You ready to go see Uncle Frank and Auntie Maria?” You asked, zipping her jacket.

The three of you were getting ready to have dinner at Frank’s house along with Billy’s friends/employees from his tattoo studio. After seeing Little Raven’s t-shirt, they will know you’re pregnant and you couldn’t wait for everyone to find out your big news.

“I see Shortcake today, Daddy?” Asked Little Raven.

Billy smiled at his daughter.

“You sure do, little miss. You bringin’ your dinosaur?” He asked.

You answered for her.

“Oh she already packed it, baby. It’s all ready to go.”

You said with a wink and a smile.

**********

Frank cooked on the grill no matter what time of year it was. He’d stand out there with an umbrella or in snow boots if he needed to but it was a beautiful sunny day in April.

The late afternoon sun warmed your faces as you pulled up in front of the Castle’s home, Frank was already outside prepping the grill, and the excitement on Little Raven’s face when she saw her godfather made your heart swell. They loved each other so much.

After getting out of her car seat, Anna took off running toward Frank. Scooping her up, he tickled her stomach and playfully bit at her neck while she laughed uncontrollably. Frank was the only one outside at the moment, everyone else was in the house.

“Show Uncle Frankie your t-shirt, Little Miss.” Said Billy.

Anna had a problem undoing the zipper on her jacket.

“Help peeease, Uncle Frankie.” Anna begged.

Frank pulled the zipper down on Anna’s jacket, read the t-shirt, glanced at you and Billy then back to Anna with a sly grin stretched across his lips.

“You’re gonna be a big sister?!!” Frank asked.

Biting back a shy smile, Anna nodded.

“I wanna baby sister, Uncle Frankie.” She said.

Frank chuckled.

“Well, we don’t get to pick what we want, Little Raven. That’s not up to us.” He said. “Go show your Auntie, she’s gonna lose her shit, er, her mind.”

Anna knew “shit” was a bad word. She let out a devilish little laugh and replied, “Shit.”

It was only a matter of time before she’d pick up on the colorful words her Uncle uttered out loud.

“Anna Raven, you know that’s a bad word.” You said, biting back a laugh.

Frank opened the front door so Anna could go inside, then turned to you to offer his congratulations.

“Congratulations you two. Finally took enough ‘naps’ to get the job done, eh Bill?” He joked, pulling you in close to give you a hug.

“Something like that.” Said Billy, with a wide grin.

“We find out what we’re having in about three weeks.” You said.

You heard squeals and screeches coming from inside the house. It sounded like Maria and Shortcake got a good look at Anna’s t-shirt. Suddenly, the front door flew open and Shortcake was standing in the doorway.

“When are you due?!!!” She asked, her cheeks couldn’t contain her smile.

You returned the smile and replied, “Around Halloween.”

Shortcake turned and shouted back into the house.

“SHE’S DUE AROUND HALLOWEEN!!!” She yelled.

Faintly, you heard Maria shout back, “Tell her to come in here!!”

“Don’t keep that woman waiting, she’ll make ya pay for it.” Said Frank.

You felt a light smack on your ass as you walked past your husband and into the house. Billy winked when you glanced back at him over your shoulder. You could barely get inside the house before you were attacked with hugs, kisses on the cheeks, and glances at your belly. You had already started to show a little because it was your second baby.

Anna got hi-fives from Ed #1 and Ed #2. They told her she was going to be the best big sister and then she proceeded to try and extort snacks from both of them. They both knew Anna was going to be at the Castle’s today so they had stashed packages of goldfish crackers in their pockets. Her face lit up with a bright smile when she found the first package.

“Open peeeease.” She said to Ed #1.

She was smart and waited until after he opened her snack to pull on his dreadlocks. She thought it was the funniest thing but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He laughed right along with her.

Dinner was great and even though Frank grilled all of the meat outside, you still needed to run to the bathroom a few times after the smell of meat cooking floated past your nose.

Lisa and Junior played with Little Raven so you and Billy could have adult conversations with your friends. They were always so good with her and were excited there would be another Russo baby to play with.

You did express to the girls that you were worried about how Little Raven was going to react to a new baby because she won’t be the only child anymore. Maria told you to make sure to include her and each of you spend time with her alone without the baby so she doesn’t feel ignored.

Her mouth downturned a little when she talked about being alone, having two small children while Frank was deployed, and how hard it was to try and give Lisa her full attention when she needed a little extra “mommy” time while trying to take care of Junior at the same time.

Your hormones were all over the place so listening to her talk about it made you very emotional but very grateful that Billy was there so you could do it together.

Taking care of two children by herself, made Maria so strong in your eyes and you were thankful that you had someone you could go to for advice.

**********

Before you knew it, summer was over, you and Billy found out you were having a boy, and you were trying to get ready for Halloween and your new arrival. You were keeping his name a secret like you did for Anna.

It was quite a busy time and all things considered you were moving around pretty well for being nine months pregnant. Anna said she wanted to be Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty for Halloween which is a little fitting since she had a pet raven. She was very excited.

“Mommy, I wear my horns soon!?” Asked Anna, excitedly.

Easing yourself down onto the couch, you smiled warmly at her and replied, “Yes, you do Little Raven. Are you excited?!”

She clapped her hands together, jumped up and down, and she gave you the signature Russo Cheshire Cat smile when she replied, “YES!!”

You wanted a costume that would go with your pregnant belly so you went with Thing 1, the baby was Thing 2, and you were dressing Billy up as the Cat in the Hat which Anna was very excited about because it was her favorite book. She wanted you to read it to her every night before she went to sleep, sometimes more than once if she was trying to procrastinate going to bed.

Just in case your baby boy was born before Halloween, you had a skeleton onesie and a skull and crossbones beanie to go with it for him. Your due date was two days ago and Halloween is tomorrow so it was looking like your little man was going to miss Halloween.

Oh well.

You were becoming increasingly irritable, it was difficult to get comfortable enough to be able to sleep, and Billy felt bad that he couldn’t do anything to put you at ease. Trying all the tricks in the book to jumpstart your labor, you went for long walks, ate spicy food, sex…you tried them all but your little boy just didn’t want to come out yet.

They wouldn’t induce you unless you were a week overdue so you still had a handful of days left before they would. Your labor with Anna came so quickly so you thought it would be quick with this little guy too…you were wrong.

But it wasn’t all bad. You would get to dress up for Halloween (your favorite holiday) and take Little Raven trick or treating with the Castle children in their neighborhood, which may end up being your neighborhood too.

Your soon-to-be family of four was going to need more room and Maria excitedly told you there was a house a couple of streets over that just went up for sale that would be “perfect” for you.

It was definitely something to think about but right now you were focusing on trying to convince baby boy Russo to come out.

“Front and center, soldier! Let me see it!” You called to Billy from the living room.

He replied from the bedroom, “I look ridiculous, baby! Frankie’s never gonna let me live this down!”

You replied, “Well you haven’t seen his costume yet, Billy. He may think twice about saying anything about yours.”

Billy walked out from around the corner in his Cat in the Hat costume and you had to bite back your laugh. The striped hat, the red tie, and the tail…Anna looked very pleased. She started to giggle and point at him.

“You the Cat in the Hat, Daddy!” She squealed.

Covering your mouth to stifle your laugh, Billy could see you were laughing and he narrowed his eyes at you before turning back to Anna.

“You like Daddy’s costume, baby girl?” He asked.

She nodded and replied, “Mommy’s Thing 1 and my baby brother is Thing 2!”

Billy laughed and said, “Well Daddy feels a little silly but Mommy looks adorable.”

He winked and smiled at you before leaning in close to whisper in your ear, “What three-year-old wants to be Maleficent for Halloween?”

“Our child.” You responded with a warm smile and a kiss on his cheek.

He kissed the tip of your nose and said, “Well, I love it. It’s very rock star of her.”

Anna Raven was ready to go trick or treating. She understood it a little more this year so she was really excited to go with Lisa and Junior. She wore a long black robe, Billy fashioned her horns out of moldable foam and electrical tape, she carried a staff with a little stuffed raven attached to the top of it, and her face was painted green. Your little miss was the perfect little Maleficent.

“You ready to go, Little Raven?” You asked, wincing a little at what might be your first contraction.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Asked Billy, his voice full of concern.

“Let’s go, Mommy!” Anna yelled.

Nodding and grimacing at the same time, you replied, “Yeah handsome, I’m fine. The walk will be good. Let’s go.”

Billy opened the door, grabbed his keys and ushered the two of you out into the hallway before locking the door behind him and asking, “So, what’s Frankie’s costume?”

A devilish smile stretched across your lips as you answered, “Oh I don’t wanna spoil that surprise, you’ll see.”

**********

Billy had a hard time recovering after seeing Frank in his costume for the first time. The Castle family was dressed up like the cast from The Wizard of Oz. Lisa was Dorothy, Maria was the Scarecrow, Junior was the Tin Man and Frank was the Cowardly Lion. He didn’t look pleased at all which only made Billy laugh harder.

The picture you took of the two of them was priceless. They tried to look tough but at the end of the day they were both still dressed up as cats.

The tightening in your stomach became more painful and more frequent. You also had a lot of pain in your lower back, more so than you did with Little Raven which had you a little concerned but you really wanted to finish taking Anna trick or treating before possibly going to the hospital.

Anna had acquired quite the stash of candy before you couldn’t take it anymore. Billy had periodically asked how you were doing but you played down how much pain you were in. Finally, you came clean.

“Billy…I think I need to go to the hospital. These contractions hurt… a LOT.” You said in distress.

Billy was holding Anna in his arms when he replied, “Oh fuck, er, I mean…shit! Nope, that’s not right either.”

You tried to laugh but it was too painful.

He passed off Anna to Maria and Frank, then left to go get the car. They said they would take care of her and to let them know when the baby arrives, then they would visit. Luckily, your hospital bag was already in the car. Billy made sure you were ok before closing your car door and speeding away.

It was difficult to sit all the way down because it was so painful. At your last few doctor’s appointments, they said it was a little concerning that your baby boy hadn’t turned to be head down yet but that you shouldn’t worry, he should turn and it would be fine. They told you there were some things you could try to get him to turn on his own.

You were starting to think that maybe he hadn’t turned yet and that’s why you were in so much pain.

“We’re almost there, baby. It’s ok.” Billy said, nervously.

Billy was always calm and in control but this was the first time you had seen him look…scared. He had been told that attachments and showing emotions were a weakness so a lot of the time, he kept his feelings to himself, pushed way down inside so no one else could see. It was better since he became a husband and a father but old habits are hard to break. All of that went out the window when he saw how much pain you were in.

When you arrived at the hospital, and after everyone you saw smiled at your Halloween costumes, your doctor told you that your baby boy was, in fact, breech which was why you were in so much pain. They were going to try and turn him but if they couldn’t, they would need to do a C-section.

Your doctor tried his best but couldn’t get the baby to turn so they prepped you for a C-section. Dressed in a sterile hospital gown and cap, Billy attempted to reassure you everything was going to be alright even though you could see in his deep brown eyes, he was still a little scared.

He couldn’t hide his emotions from you.

“It’s gonna be ok, sweet girl. They’re gonna get him out, alright?” He said from behind a face mask and stroked your forehead.

Billy could tell you were in a lot of pain because you never complained too much when you were in labor with Anna but she arrived quickly so you weren’t in pain for an extended period of time. Pretty soon, you didn’t feel any more pain and your baby boy was here.

After you were moved to a recovery room, tears stung the back of your eyes, and you gazed at your new son with relief that he was finally here and that he was alright.

“Oh Billy…he’s perfect.” You said, as a tear dropped onto his nose just like it did when you held Anna for the first time. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Just a quick question…” He said.

Confused, you asked, “What is it, handsome?”

Lightly touching his son’s head, Billy asked, “Um, well, where’s his hair?”

You could tell your baby boy would also have dark hair like his father but unlike his sister who was born with a full head of hair, he didn’t have much to work with at the moment.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing because you didn’t want to pop a stitch but that was a hard one to bite back.

“I’m sure he’ll have plenty of it when more of it comes in but he is definitely your son, look how dark it is.” You said.

Being careful not to squish the baby, Billy leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. The hand with his marine corps tattoo on it gently cupped your cheek as he continued to kiss you. Billy smiled at you before leaning down to kiss his newborn son on the forehead.

“I’m gonna go call Frankie.” He said softly.

You smiled back and replied, “Don’t forget to call everyone else too, you know they’ll want to know too.”

Your little boy finished eating just as his first visitors arrived. Frank was carrying Anna who was all clean and in her pajamas. She looked very excited and a little nervous to meet her brother. The Castle family had changed out of their costumes too.

“I missed visiting Anna in the hospital because of that snow storm, I wasn’t gonna miss this little one’s first days too.” Said Maria.

“You ready to meet your baby brother, Little Raven?” You asked.

Chewing on her finger, she nodded and smiled.

Frank set her on the edge of the bed.

“Anna…this is your brother, Dylan. Dylan William Russo. Say ‘hi, Dylan.’” You said as tears welled up in your eyes again looking at the two of them together. They already looked like each other.

Anna was very gentle when she touched Dylan on his chubby little cheek and whispered, “Hi Dylan. Imma big sister.”

“You ARE a big sister, Anna.” Said Billy.

Carefully, Dylan was passed around so the Castle family could each hold him, even Lisa and Junior held him for a minute.

“Well, I know why you chose William but is there a reason behind Dylan?” Asked Maria.

You and Billy smiled at each other before you replied, “You all know how much I love the ocean and we all spent a lot of time at the beach this past summer. Well, this little guy was the most active when we were at the beach, kicking me, stretching, moving all around, especially when I was swimming. And the name Dylan actually means “son of the sea,” so he kind of chose his own name. It’s also no wonder he didn’t want to come out!” You said with a little laugh.

Everyone else chuckled a little too.

Frank looked at Anna and asked, “What do you think of your little brother, Anna? You wanna keep him?”

Anna looked up at her godfather with her ink like eyes, smiled and said, “I keep him, Uncle Frankie. He cute.”

Frank glanced at Billy before saying, “We’ll take her home with us so y/n can get some sleep, you too, you look like shit.”

Everyone heard Anna’s tiny voice repeat, “Shit.”

Frank tickled her neck and playfully scolded her.

“Hey, we told you that’s a bad word? Yeah?” Asked Frank.

Her devilish smile stretched across her lips again as Anna replied, “No, YOU say shit, Uncle Frankie.”

“Why does she only repeat it when I say it?” Frank asked with narrowed eyes and in a confused tone.

“Because she knows you’ll give her the reaction she wants.” Said Billy.

Everyone said their goodbyes to you, Billy, and baby Dylan. Frank scooped up Little Raven in his arms, she turned to wave to you and said, “Bye, bye Mommy, bye Daddy.”

The two of you waved back.

“Bye baby girl. You be good for your Auntie and Uncle, ok?” You said.

Frank paused in the doorway, Anna turned to look at her baby brother once more, she waved at him and said with a kind smile, “Bye, bye baby Dylan. I see you soon!”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

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If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[sofasoap]

Little first meet

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader

Summary: How a mohawk Scottish man meet his bonnie bear

Warning : M rating. use of alcohol. flirting. A/N: Three glasses of wine in, half asleep I just want to spew their awkward first meeting out.

Part 7 of Little Bear series Masterlist

“Hello bonnie, are you new here?”

Glancing to the left, and to the right.  There’s no one else sitting beside you. Is he talking to you?? There must be some mistake. Surely this handsome stranger with a very exaggerated mohawk hair right in front of you isn’t trying to start a conversation with you. Or God forbid, trying to flirt with you????

“... You talking to me?” you asked in a weak voice. 

He chuckled as he flashes you a wide toothy smile, “Who else would it be? The most beautiful person in the whole pub.” gesturing to the stool beside you, “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Um, sure?”  You can feel the tip of your ears starting to burn. Fidgeting with the pint of beer in your hand, your mind started racing. Maybe he is just bored, or maybe he had a bet with his friend on how many people they can chat up with tonight in this pub.

This is the first time you left your hometown. First time in a brand new environment and you are a nervous wreck. 

You only moved to Credenhill a few weeks ago after getting a new job with a civilian company that has connections to the military that is stationed in the area. 

You have thought deep and hard before deciding to make that huge leap in your life, after seeing all your friends moving on with their life, achieving so much. And there you are, still living in your comfort zone. 

Tonight, you decided to check out the local pub that your new workmate had suggested with a good atmosphere and food. You had nothing better to do anyway on a Friday night.

“Maybe you will get lucky and some soldiers will hit on you!” They joke. “I had quite a bit of luck meeting some quite sexy soldiers. And I can assure you they have pretty good … stamina.” Winking and giggling away as you lower your head in embarrassment. 

Awkward silent bubble surrounded both of you as the bolstering noise of drunken pub goers around you continued.  You never had anyone hitting you before (He is flirting with you, right?)  What do you do in this situation? Who should start a conversation? Is it proper etiquette to look into their eyes or should you look away?

As your brain runs through all the possibilities and solutions, the mohawk man broke the silence and restart the conversation.

“So, I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you here for a visit or?? I don’t imagine anyone will be here for sightseeing purposes.” Taking a sip from his own beer, he asked. “And it doesn’t look like you are waiting for anyone to join you either.” 

Good observant skill, you noted. “Um.I just moved here. Few weeks ago.” Shyly taking a peek at him as you bring your glass up for a sip for a drink, you realise you have a set of steel blue eyes. Beautiful steel blue eyes, drawing you deeper into his soul. 

Great, now you are gawking on him. 

His eyes brighten up as soon as you mention you are a new resident here.

“Well I hope you are settling in well. I must apologise that this little village has nothing to offer apart from basic amenities and boring soldiers.” he chuckles. 

“ And you are one of them?” you blurted out as your eyes caught a glimpse of his dog chain in his half buttoned up shirt. You slapped your mouth as soon as the sentence left your mouth. 

“Sorry. Not meaning to be so rude..” Embarrassment and anxiety starts bubbling up. That is one thing you are not good with. Socialisation. It’s either you don’t know how to carry on a conversation or letting your mouth run without thinking. Way to make a good impression with people. You thought.

Mohawk stranger laughed. “ I am indeed one of them. One of the best at boring your brains out. .” he smirked, “Although I am not as boring as my team mate Ghost.” 

“Ghost?” “Not his real name. That’s his call sign. He usually bored us to death with his dad jokes. Or our Captain. Nagging non-top most times like a mother hen. Don’t get me started on Gaz. He is too stiff for his own good sometimes.” 

“They sound like very interesting people.” You let out a little laugh. 

“Depending how you look at it.” He smiled. Pausing slightly as he thought for a second, “If you like, I can introduce them to you. Next time.” He looked at you in earnest. 

“Next time?” Your eyebrows arched up. There’s next time?

“Only if you want, bonnie.” smiling softly, “You look like you need some friends.” Noticing you stiffening, he winced as he straightened his back slightly. “Sorry. I meant no offence with that. I just thought you might want to make new friends in this new place.” 

You fidget in your seat even more. Can you really trust this man that you only just met tonight? 

And what is that good old warning people kept saying to you, never get involved with military personnel. They will surely break your heart. 

Still noticing your hesitation and discomfort, he hastily added, “If it makes you feel more comfortable, my sister is visiting soon. I can bring her along too. She is the one who usually keeps us all in check. Also to keep my blabbering mouth shut as well.” 

“But.......” 

“But?”

“... I don’t even know your name.”

Mohawk man opened his mouth for a second and closed before he slapped himself in the forehead. 

“Where are my manners? Let’s start again.” holding his hands out,

“John MacTavish. But people either call me Johnny or Soap.”

You later find out Johnny isn’t usually the type to introduce his close knit group right from get go. 

“I fell hard for you that day, Bonnie bear. Something in my heart tells me I must approach that lonely bonnie that is sitting in the corner all by herself and woo her with all my might.”

“Well luckily you didn’t use any of your lame pick up lines..”

“Aww Bonnie bear. I am sure you will still fall for the charming me nevertheless.”

“Sure sure… “

Taglist: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

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