#like. fold your laundry or set the table and put it in the background. great easy entertainment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kitteneddiediaz · 4 months

Text

To Do Chores Together

Buck & Eddie. General. 1.9k words

I wrote a little post 7x10 thing today. I was thinking about the way my bff and I always seem to have the best conversations when I'm making my bed, so I had Buck and Eddie do the same. This fic isn't anti-BuckTommy, but it also isn't very happy BuckTommy, so please read at your own discretion!

For the first time in the week since Chris has left, there’s music in the Diaz house as Buck walks through the door. He recognizes it immediately - Eddie’s chore playlist. Full of lyric-less songs that he can put on quietly in the background while he does dishes or folds laundry. Buck takes it for the good sign that it is. It means Eddie’s actually out of bed today.

Buck finally spots him in his bedroom, stripping the three-week-old dirty sheets from the bed, pillows in a lump on the floor, a handful of Chris’ old stuffed animals set delicately on his right bedside table.

Eddie isn’t surprised to see him, it looks like. Giving Buck a glance and a small smile while he rounds the bed to untuck the last two corners of his fitted sheet.

“Hey, Buck.”

“H-hey, Eds. How are you feeling today?”

“Better than I have been. Still not great, but, better. Trying to capitalize on the motivation I’m having to clean the house before I start feeling… not great again.” Eddie says, tossing the fitted sheet into the pillowcase and flat sheet pile he’s created on the floor. “How are you?” “Good. I’m good. Glad you see you’re doing better. I know how you can get when your bed isn’t perfectly made and everything.”

“Can’t help it,” Eddie says, “military. Though I was like this as a kid too.” He finishes, chuckling a little.

Buck chuckles with him, reveling in seeing color in Eddie’s cheeks for the first time in awhile. He steps forward to sit down in the chair in the corner of Eddie’s room. Buck learned long ago not to ask or even attempt to help Eddie make his bed. It’s one of the things Eddie can be very, very particular about, and Buck doesn’t want to risk losing the little bit of calm and happiness Eddie woke up with this morning.

The pile of sheets on the floor get scooped into Eddie’s arms, and he’s walking down the hall to the laundry room a second later, washing machine opening and closing and beeping as Eddie sets the cycle, coming back into the room a minute later with his second pair of sheets - fresh and folded and, Buck really needs Eddie to reteach him how to fold a fitted sheet because he can’t tell which is which when Eddie sets down the fitted and flat sheets on the bed.

The calm quietness of Buck’s mind dissipates in a flash though, replaced with giddiness at the prospect of getting to tease his best friend because, there, on the left bedside table, Buck can’t help but notice Eddie’s mini fleshlight, that somehow Eddie has not noticed is still sitting out.

“Wow, you really did have a good morning,” Buck says, keeping his eye on the toy as Eddie’s gaze lands on him, follows his line of vision, and realized what Buck’s looking at.

Eddie scrambles towards the table, shoving the toy into the drawer. “I’m so sorry,” he says, face painted red with embarrassment. “I- We’re- It’s-... We’re just gonna pretend, that you did not see that.”

Buck laughs at him, looking down at his lap just to give Eddie a second of reprieve. “Hey man, no judgment here.”

Eddie huffs, amused, and unfolds the fitted sheet, shaking it out and laying it on the bed, corners lined up for him to tuck in.

“Speaking of sex… did I tell you about my night with Tommy last week?” Buck asks.

“No,” Eddie laughs, looking up at him. “You didn’t tell me.”

“It was… weird.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s tone and body language shift, no longer eager to tease Buck right back about his escapades. Concern and confusion etching into his features.

“Yeah… it- it was the night after Bobby got out of the hospital, right?. I asked Tommy to come over for dinner and a glass of wine, and I just… caught him up on everything that had been happening with Bobby, you know?”

Eddie’s attention is fully drawn to Buck now, still working on getting the first side of the fitted sheet tucked in with his eyes on his best friend.

“Okay, so what happened?”

“I don’t know. I-I just… you ever have a conversation or an interaction, and in the moment it feels fine, and then once you think about it you realize that you are actually are kinda upset with the way it was handled?”

Eddie laughs at that, “have you seen my life the past few weeks?”

It breaks the tension a little, Buck also letting out a little laugh.

“What happened?” Eddie asks again, moving onto the flat sheet.

“We were eating dinner, and I told him about Bobby, that he’s the dad I never had, and that I really thought that this was going to be the time that we lost him. For real, forever.”

Eddie walks to the other side of the bed to tuck in the flat sheet.

Buck continues, “and he said that my- my dad was still alive. And I know he meant like… my father but, it rubbed me the wrong way I guess? In hindsight? And then he went on to talk about how Gerard was like the father he did have, because I guess he doesn’t talk to his dad.” Buck says, pulling his legs back for Eddie to walk by again to grab his comforter and quilts off the floor.

“So I said something about how we both have daddy issues, and he says that he doesn’t. So I said ‘oh but you think I do?’ and… I don’t know. I-I-I can’t tell if-if I’m like, overreacting about his response or not, or what…”

“What did he say to you?” Eddie asks, gently.

Buck groans, rolling his eyes. Embarrassment floods through him, but he can’t quite put his finger on why. It’s just Eddie, who did just accidentally leave out his fleshlight for Buck to see.

“He said, ‘God, I hope so.’” Buck finishes.

Eddie looks at him with that looks he has sometimes when he hears something he wasn’t expecting to. Eyebrows raised, mouth tilted slightly down, head nodding slowly. “Okay…” Eddie says. “What about it has made you been… thinking about the conversation for the past few days?”

“I dunno,” Buck says, even though he kinda already does know. “I guess I just… I was opening up to him about the stress and fear I was having about Bobby, and how important he is to me. And yeah, you know, I was being a little flirty with Tommy, but I guess I’m a little annoyed that he just… didn’t hesitate to turn it into a sex thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, sex that night was… incredible. Like… incredible.”

Eddie looks up from stuffing his pillow cases to laugh at him.

“But, I feel like every time I’m alone with Tommy, and we aren’t actively having sex, it’s either super awkward and we don’t know what to talk about, or we’re talking about having sex.”

“Right.”

“So, I don’t know. I mean, it was pretty incredible having my eyes opened to the world of ‘daddy kink’ when I’m not the one being called ‘daddy.’” Buck says, laughing. “But you know… I used to use sex as a really unhealthy coping mechanism for things, and even after two months the sex is… the only think that I really feel excitement about anymore with Tommy.” “What do you think you’re coping with?” Eddie asks.

It makes Buck pause, because in all the thinking he’s done he neglected to ask himself that question. “I… I don’t know. I don’t think I’m coping with anything. It just feels like…”

“Routine?”

“Maybe, yeah. Like this is what we seem to be best at. So every time we’re alone I’m just waiting for him to take me to bed.”

Eddie hums at that, finishing up placing Chris’ stuffed animals up against his pillows.

“I feel like,” Buck says suddenly, loudly, before getting quiet again. “I feel like… there’s an expiration date on our relationship. Because eventually I’m gonna get bored of having a partner that… is only what I need sexually. I want sex to be… an afterthought. Not that it isn’t important. But I want intimacy in other ways that Tommy isn’t giving me. I want to read together in bed and I want… you know, to do… fucking chores together. And we aren’t there and I don’t think we’ll ever get there.”

Eddie sighs, thinking. He sits on the edge of his freshly made bed, looking at his best friend. “So what are you gonna do?” “I don’t know. I’m having fun, right? But… I guess I need to decide if this fun is worth staying in a relationship that isn’t going anywhere. You know, do I call it quits now and be alone for a bit, or do I keep letting Tommy fuck my brains out before he realizes that I’m not all the way in anymore.”

“Pretty sure we had this exact conversation a few year ago about me and Ana,” Eddie says. “Look, I like Tommy. He’s cool, and I’m glad that you’re having fun. But if he isn’t what you want, why would you stay? Right?”

“Right…”

“And, I think another thing you haven’t considered, is how Tommy feels. If you’re gonna stay just to have good sex for a few weeks or months, I think you need to tell him that what you want is different. You know, you can’t treat him the way Abby treated you.” Buck groans, “ugh. I know. It sucks being on this side of it this time.” “I know, bud.”

There’s a minute where neither says anything, and Buck is thankful for the sanctuary Eddie always seems to offer him. Open and honest and careful with Buck in a way that nobody else has really been for him before, except for Maddie.

There’s a finality that he feels in his chest, and even though he hasn’t said it out loud he knows next time he sees Tommy he’s going to be honest with him too. It’s only fair.

But again, he can’t help but be grateful right now, that Eddie talked him through his feelings while he… did his chores and oh… oh. There’s another feeling in Buck’s chest, one that he’s familiar with, one that he now knows extends to not just women.

Buck’s going to have to sit with that feeling for a bit. He’s still dating Tommy. And Eddie… Eddie isn’t ready for anything right now. Maybe in a bit, once Chris comes home and the dust settles.

Yeah, he wants to wait, wants to find a home in the realization he’s just had, get cozy and comfortable in it before he opens himself up. Who knows if Eddie even wants in, once Buck does. They’ll cross that bridge when they get to it, Buck thinks.

He’s broken out of his thoughts by Eddie standing up from the bed.

“Come on,” Eddie says. “You can come help me clean the kitchen.”

And he’s gone, already down the hallway and standing in front of his kitchen sink before Buck’s brain catches up with him. Buck sighs, and gets up to follow Eddie into the kitchen, to help him with his chores, hoping that maybe a year from now, it’ll be their chores.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #my writing #911 abc

17 notes · View notes

lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact.

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication.

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive.

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.”

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both."

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours.

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it.

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night.

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again.

Oh, he was so fucked.

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you.

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood.

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you.

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey.

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.”

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble.

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek.

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face.

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much.

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends."

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks.

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises.

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates!

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #my writing #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf #formula 1 rpf

134 notes · View notes

mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Note

ps, idk what the biker/college bucky story will include but i can throw out the idea of doing the modern day army veteran Bucky as a one shot or something? or whatever you don't include in the series lol

Recluse

Summary: You barely even expected to get a conversation out of Steve’s reclusive roommate, never mind anything more than that.

Pairing: Modern Veteran!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, smut references, references to military service

Author’s Note: You bet your butt I can do that for you anon. This one really got out of hand idk what happened man I couldn’t stop.

---

You’d been living with your friend Sharon for a couple of years now, and it was still going pretty well.

Your ground-floor apartment was very compact, but she was so considerate and easy to get on with, you barely even noticed the lack of space. She cooked for you occasionally, always paid rent on time, even did your laundry without being asked.

You just couldn’t help thinking that things were much more fun when you were both single.

Nothing much had changed in your life, you were still a lone wolf, but she’d been with Steve for almost six months now and you barely ever saw her anymore.

Most nights you were just left to your own devices, clattering around the apartment like some sad old spinster.

It got to the point where, one Friday when you got home from work, you heard Steve and Sharon talking in the kitchen and got excited at the prospect of just having some company for the evening.

Sharon almost jumped on you as soon as you walked in. ‘Y/n! Are you free tonight?’

‘Yeah, totally, completely. You guys sticking around?’

‘You think he’d ever agree to that?.’

‘We were actually thinking of going out for some drinks. You in?’ You contemplated for a second, not wanting to come across too eager, then gave her an enthusiastic nod.

As she grinned back at you, you saw an idea dawn on her. ‘Steve, you should totally bring Bucky.’

Sharon frowned in resignation. You had no idea who they were talking about, their conversation going completely over your head.

Steve went home to change, leaving you and Sharon with a couple hours to get ready before heading out, so you thought you might as well try to probe a little deeper.

‘Who’s Bucky?’ You asked casually, sitting on her bed, watching her hold dress after dress up to herself in the mirror.

‘Steve’s roommate.’

‘I didn’t know Steve had a roommate?’

‘I’d be more surprised if you did.’ She turned towards you. ‘In six months I’ve only met him twice.’

Your eyebrows darted up. She spent so much time at Steve’s place, that made no sense at all.

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m pretty sure he makes a point to avoid people generally.’ She flopped herself down next to you on the bed, her tone lowering to one of deep sincerity. ‘He was in the army with Steve. Apparently he just really struggled to adapt when they got back, collapsed in on himself for a while. I think he’s a mechanic now but Steve is still the only person he really speaks to.’

‘Shit, that’s awful.’

She gave a grim nod and shrugged slightly, before standing back up and starting to get changed.

You figured you should do the same, shuffling back to your room and finally taking off your work clothes, relieved at the thought of getting out of the apartment for the evening.

Just as you were about to leave, Sharon’s phone pinged.

‘Holy shit.’

‘What?’ You’d never seen her look so shocked. She put her index finger up at you while quickly typing something back. ‘You’re killing me here Sharon, what the hell is going on?’

‘Bucky’s coming.’

---

You managed to find a cramped table in the back of the bar. Sharon made you wait for Steve to arrive before ordering drinks, because for some reason he always insisted on buying the first round.

About ten minutes after you arrived, she glanced over to the door, grinned and waved her hand above her head. Following her gaze, you saw Steve pushing through the crowd, followed closely by a statuesque, tower of a man.

Studying him intently as he approached, you noticed how visibly uncomfortable he was, his jaw clenched tight and his hands folded into slowly whitening fists. You let your eyes dance over his huge shoulders and wide chest, feeling your stomach flip a little as he got closer.

‘Hey guys. Sharon, you remember Buck?’ Steve gave his friend a proud pat on the shoulder. Sharon nodded and grinned at Bucky, getting only a short, tight smile in return. ‘And this is y/n.’

Looking up to his face, his sharp blue eyes briefly met yours, prompting you to quickly avert your gaze. He looked tense enough without you gawping at him.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You adopted the friendliest tone possible, doing your best to put him at ease.

Steve went to grab some drinks and Sharon volunteered to help him, leaving you at the table with Bucky, bracing yourself for some intensely awkward small talk.

‘So, you’re a mechanic?’ He nodded. ‘Do you enjoy it?’ Another nod.

Alright, he obviously wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

Christ. If you didn’t break free from this spinster shit soon, that’s exactly where you’d end up.

You didn’t want to force it if he wasn’t comfortable, you could happily sit in silence if that’s what he’d prefer.

You moved your eyes to scan the room, eventually landing on an older woman propping herself up at the bar, downing martinis, eyeing up young men and wobbling on her insanely high heels.

‘What do you do?’

It was barely a mumble, you hardly heard it over the bar’s background music.

Your eyes returned to Bucky’s face, meeting his hesitant gaze.

‘I work in HR, so boring admin stuff mainly.’ He nodded slightly, his eyes flicking nervously between the table and your face. ‘But occasionally I get to use the shredder, which is pretty rad.’

He cracked a brief smile, the sight of it giving you a wave of goosebumps. ‘Sounds thrilling.’

‘I’ve never been here before, have you?’ You were determined to keep this conversation going, especially if there was a chance that you’d be able to make him smile again.

‘No. I haven’t been to any bars recently.’

‘You’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do then.’

Resting your head on your hand, you gave him a mischievous smirk, and felt a little smug as you noticed his shoulders relax slightly and the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

Hours passed, the bar called last orders, and the four of you traipsed out to begin walking home.

Then Steve and Sharon came back with the drinks, pretty effectively ruining the moment you’d been setting up.

Bucky went quiet again, keeping to himself for most of the evening, only speaking when spoken to. You felt his gaze fall on you occasionally, but each time you tried to meet his eyes they were quickly averted.

‘Oh hey, I forgot to ask.’ Steve gestured towards you. ‘Sharon said you went to visit your parents last weekend? How was that?’

‘I couldn’t go in the end, my car's fucked. It’s my own fault, everyday there was a new rattling sound but just ignored it.’

‘I’ll take a look at it.’ Your eyes snapped over to Bucky, a little shocked at how enthusiastically he’d come out with that. ‘If you want.’

You gave him a wide smile. ‘Wow, yeah, that’d be amazing. Thank you.’

---

A few days later, you were faced with another evening alone while Sharon was at Steve’s.

You unenthusiastically pulled a ready meal out of the fridge and poked some holes in the plastic, shoving it in the microwave and reaching for the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter.

‘Hi. Sorry. I was coming this way and Sharon said you’d be in, I thought I could take a look at your car?’

Just as you went to grab a glass out of the cupboard, you were stopped by a faint knock at the front door.

Shuffling over and yanking it open, you saw Bucky standing on your doorstep, looking just as uncomfortable as he did walking into that bar.

You were a little embarrassed that he’d caught in your pyjamas at 6:30, but that feeling was hugely outweighed with how pleased you were to see him.

‘Yeah, great.’ You gave him a warm smile. ‘I’ll just grab my keys.’

You found your gaze pretty quickly drawn to his arms, propping him up as he leant over the machinery like thick, hefty tree trunks. It was amazing how entranced you were by them, but considering how long it’d been since you’d even brushed past an attractive male, it made sense. God the things you’d let him do, if he-

You slipped on your shoes and led him over to the rustbucket, badly parked on the street outside. He flicked open the bonnet and immediately started tinkering.

You had less than no idea what was happening, but it looked very impressive.

‘Could you start it up?’ His deep voice pulled you out of your hazy fantasies.

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah.’

You tried your best to hide how flustered you were as you climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key. An intense rattling started, which he listened to for a second before signalling for you to turn it off and closing the bonnet.

‘You were right, it needs a lot of work. It’s definitely not safe to drive.’

‘Shit, stuck with the bus then.’ You sighed and climbed out, slamming the door behind you. ‘Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do this. I appreciate it.’

‘Anytime.’ He smiled politely, taking a couple steps backwards before turning, dropping his head and starting to walk away.

‘You can come in for a drink if you want?’ You called after him, a little shocked at your boldness but not at all mad about it. He spun round. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

He took a sip and turned himself slightly to face you. ‘Look, if you bring your car to the shop where I work, I can probably keep the price down.’

His polite smile evolved into a wide grin as he nodded, following you inside.

You grabbed him a beer from the fridge and gestured for him to join you on the couch, smiling to yourself at how nervous he seemed as he balanced himself right on the edge of the seat.

‘Are you sure?’ He nodded. ‘That's so nice, you barely even know me.’

He looked a little sheepish at that, scurrying around for his words. ‘Sharon was pretty keen for me to come take a look, it’s probably best to keep Steve’s girlfriend on side, y’know.’

‘Oh I do know, Sharon can be terrifying.’ You both chuckled as Bucky edged back, settling himself into the couch a little more. ‘So you and Steve met in the army?’

‘We’ve been friends since we were kids, we signed up together.’

‘That’s nice.’ You tilted your head at him, deciding to take a slight gamble on your next question. ‘Do you miss it?’

He fixed his eyes on the ground and faintly shook his head, nervously starting to pick at the label on his bottle.

Shit, you really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, you were just curious.

A swift subject change remedied the situation somewhat, and after a while you sensed him beginning to relax again.

You finished off your glass of wine and checked your phone, your hand shooting up to your forehead in shock when you saw that it was close to midnight.

Over the next couple hours he slowly came out of his shell even further, eventually chatting and laughing with you like you were his good friend. The two of you unconsciously edged towards each other throughout the evening, ending up face to face with legs folded up on the couch, as close as you could get without touching.

‘Shit, I have work tomorrow.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ He put his bottle on the coffee table and stood up quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you up.’

‘Oh you don’t have to apologise, it’s not your fault. I had a really nice evening.’

‘Me too.’ He smiled and buried his hands in his pockets, following you to the front door. ‘I’m working every day this week, you can come in whenever.’

‘Friday would be great? I have the day off.’

‘See you then.’

You watched him disappear down the street, feeling your limbs tingle with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

---

You usually used your days off to sleep in till midday, but on Friday the tow truck showed up at 7am to take your car to the shop. You didn’t even get up that early on workdays. A pint of coffee was barely enough to keep you from passing out on the ride there.

He eventually noticed you stood there, staring, and your face immediately heated up as he approached.

You hurried inside the garage, scanning the room and eventually spotting Bucky underneath a hoisted truck, reaching up to work on it. His arms were glistening with oil and sweat and his shirt was riding up, exposing the faint trail of hair starting underneath his bellybutton.

Lord in heaven, what a view.

‘Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt.’

‘That’s alright.’ He pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and roughly wiped his hands. ‘Did you bring the deathtrap?’

‘Yep, just outside.’

‘It’s gonna be a while. I finish at four, d’you wanna come back then?’

‘Sure.’

You walked up the driveway ten minutes early, which you thought was reasonable, and asked the very intimidating guy out front for Bucky. He just eyed you up and down and gestured vaguely to the side of the building.

On the way home you kept accidentally walking into roads, your mind completely occupied with Bucky’s midriff.

The whole day dragged. In your boredom you ended up leaving for the garage about an hour too early, meaning you had to loiter in an off-license, probably looking like you were shoplifting.

Turning the corner, you were met with a pretty impressive, cinematic wide shot of Bucky’s arse as he was leaning over the inside of your bonnet.

You should probably say something. Tell him you were there. Say hello.

Yeah, probably should.

Yeaaah.

You sighed and reluctantly shuffled towards the car.

‘How’s it-’ Bucky jumped and whacked his head against the propped-up bonnet. ‘Fuck! I’m so sorry, are you alright?’

He smiled at you, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. ‘Yeah, all good. Happens all the time.’

‘Oh, really? In that case you might want to consider a career change, could end up with some permanent damage.’ Chuckling, he reached up and slammed the bonnet with one powerful movement. ‘How’s it looking?’

‘Not bad. Want to take it for a spin?’

‘Sure.’ He held up the keys and you grabbed them out of his hand, excitedly hopping in the driver’s seat while he walked around and got in the passenger side. ‘You coming?’

‘Can’t just let you drive off without paying, you might never come back.’

You shot him a wide smile as you fired up the engine, amazed at how smooth it sounded, and pulled away from the garage.

‘I can’t believe it, it didn’t even run this good when I first got it.’ He smirked a little and nodded. ‘Thank you, Buck.’

You were already in the outskirts of the city, so you decided to drive out into the sticks a little, eventually pulling up into a dusty layby on a narrow side road.

Glancing to your side, you saw that Bucky was struggling not to look very pleased with himself.

As he began stroking his thumb along your knuckles, he cautiously pulled his gaze up to your face, looking at you like you’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

His hands were resting on his thighs and, almost unconsciously, you reached out to grab the one closest to you and squeeze it lightly.

He stared down at it for a few seconds, eventually turning his hand over and squeezing back.

You could barely even remember what happened next. You remember the back of your neck tingling, your stomach tightening almost to the point of becoming painful, the feeling of Bucky’s rough, calloused hand against your cheek and the way your heart jumped when he leaned towards you and pressed his mouth against yours.

Eventually pulling away, he buried his face in your neck, planting short kisses along your jawline between laboured breaths. You pushed his head back against the seat and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and letting your hands dance down his chest.

It was slow and tender at first, but it quickly picked up, becoming feverish and passionate.

He threw his arms around your waist and roughly pulled you over onto his lap, holding you so tight to his chest that you couldn’t tell whose heart you could feel thumping like a steam engine.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done that.’ He sighed, bringing a hand up to bury itself in your hair.

‘Me too.’ Your mouth curled into a smile. ‘It’s been even longer for other stuff.’

Melting into each other in a cacophony of limbs and flesh and tearing clothes, both of you eventually found the release you so desperately needed.

There was a loaded silence, you opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you intently, wearing an expression that made your toes curl.

You dived clumsily into the backseat and pulled him after you, giggling as you both adjusted yourselves, trying to get even slightly comfortable in such a tight space.

And both of you did all you could to savour the feeling of finally having someone to hold close.

---

464 notes · View notes

mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 years

Text

For You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Y/N waits all night for Spencer to come home

Warnings: Angst... maybe swearing, but I honestly can’t remember

Words: 2,451

A/N: My LPC and Masters are kicking my ass... I hate it here :)))))))

PART TWO HERE PART THREE HERE

Master List Permanent Tag List

Shoving the last Dorito in your mouth, you leaned off the couch to grabbing your phone from the coffee table. Your thumb swiped across the screen to accept the call. Muting the TV, you sat up and put the call on speaker, smiling as you heard his voice.

“Hey, Y/N/N” Your boyfriend of three years greeted you.

“Spencer” you smiled into the phone, more than happy to hear from him. “I didn’t speak to you yesterday, I missed you.”

“Yeah, sorry, we caught a break in the case” he apologises. “Did you know, only ten-point-seven percent of murders are committed by women, who tend to kill for reasons such as personal gain or jealousy. Our unsub actually went against the statistic.”

“So, you caught them then?” you asked, biting your lip to conceal your hope.

“Yeah, yeah, we did!” he confirmed, and you were sure that he was nodding. “We’re at the station at the moment but we should be leaving soon. I’ll be home around-” There’s a moment of pause while you assume he looks at his watch. “Around seven, seven-thirty. Definitely no later than eight.”

“Oh, Spencer, that’s great!” you grinned, standing up from the couch. “This week has dragged by without you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon” he assures you. “I have to go though, there a bit of paperwork that needs to be finished before we can leave.” “Okay, no worries. I love you, bye” you say.

“See you soon, love you” he hangs up.

You turned of the TV and quickly got to work cleaning the apartment. It wasn’t dirty, not really, but your breakfast dishes were in the sink and you didn’t take the trash out last night. You had also neglected putting away the laundry and had thrown your coat and bag over the back of a chair, rather than hang them up.

Coming home to an empty apartment had demotivated you this week, making you not bother to keep up with the little things. Though you always missed Spencer when he was away on cases, this week had been especially trying.

You hung your coat up, moving your keys into the little bowl by the door. The laundry was seen to next, the tops separated and hung up while the pants were neatly folded and placed in the draws. Plates were quickly cleaned and dried, put into their place. You wiped down the sides, brushing the crumbs into the bin before quickly running the trash out.

Coming back into the apartment, you washed your hands before moving to the fridge. Having only went shopping a few days ago, it was still well stocked, and it had all the ingredients for Spencer’s favourite meal.

You had grown up with a dad who loved to cook, who had wanted to be a chef. Due to his severe eczema, which he used to tell he had to be ‘wrapped up like a mummy’ for, he was unable to pursue his passion. As such, he had cooked delicious meals at home for you and your mom, passing on recipes and filling you with a passion for food.

Cooking was something you found relaxing. You knew enough recipes by heart to not follow a recipe, but, instead, a pattern within your mind. You could cook your favourite dish without the need to measure herbs or spices, mind zoned out while you prepared the ingredients.

When you had began dating Spencer, he was basically living on coffee with the occasional take-out. Within two months of your relationship, his freezer was fully stocked with frozen home-cooked meals. While his slim physique remained, he did gain a healthy amount of weigh and appeared to look healthier.

It hadn’t taken you long to find out that his favourite was a slow roasted rack of lamb, with rosemary roasted potatoes, butter roasted carrots, broccoli, peas and mash potatoes. You had served the roast lamb at Easter, where Spencer proceeded to spend nearly thirty minutes telling you about the origin of eating lamb at Easter.

“It’s actually related to the Jewish Passover, from when the Egyptians painted lamb’s blood on doors during the plagues of Egypt. When some Jewish people converted, they caried on the tradition. In fact, in Christianity, Jesus…”

Coming from a diverse background (various religions were practiced in your family, some married and converted, others converted, an adopted cousin kept practicing his religion, thus you celebrated many different religions) you knew the some of what he was saying. However, you loved to hear Spencer talk.

Spencer could talk about anything and you would listen. You loved to hear his voice; the way his voice became higher when he got excited. You liked to lean back against the couch, your feet in his lap as he read to you. His voice lulled you into a calm and relaxed state, it put your mind at peace and made everything seem right in the world.

You cleaned the lamb, patting it dry with paper towels become setting it on the chopping board. You trimmed the fat, leaving only a small layer which would cook and add flavour to the meet. Pouring a tablespoon of oil into your hands, you gently rub it into the lamb before adding the spices, careful not to overwork the meat.

The meat was transferred into a dish before moved into the hot oven.

You then moved onto the vegetables. You coated par-boiled potatoes with oil, salt, pepper and rosemary become adding them to the oven. Carrots were peeled and cut, put into a tin-foil bowl with a teaspoon of butter and a sprinkle of sugar. Folding the tin-foil closed, you slid that into the oven too.

Potatoes were peeled, chopped and put on to boil. You cut the broccoli into smaller pieces and add them to a pot and put them onto boil too. Peas remained in a saucepan, covered in water, but you would turn them on in a little while.

You grabbed the latest Doctor Who DVD that Spencer had brought the week previous. You put the first disk into the DVD player and set the box beside the TV. Leaving the screen on the menu page, you left the room and went for a shower.

You looked at the clock again.

20:37

You sighed and looked down at your food which was damn near cold. Your stomach rumbled and you picked up your fork. You weren’t going to wait any longer. While the food is delicious, you don’t enjoy it. You don’t focus on the flavours as you chew and swallow, your mind focused on your thoughts.

Where was Spencer?

You had called his phone multiple times, but it had just rung out. You had called JJ, but she had left work before him. When you had phoned his work and spoken to his boss, Hotch had told you that Spencer had already left for the evening, and suggested you call Derek as they left together. Just like Spencer’s phone, Derek phone had rung out too.

Finishing your food, you took your plate to the sink. Rising the plate, along with the pots and pans, you then filled the sink with bubbly water. Grabbing the sponge, you began to clean.

Your mind was torn on whether to be worried or not. One the one hand, Spencer had said he’d be home – you checked the clock – over an hour ago but he still wasn’t here. He wasn’t at work and he wasn’t answering his phone. You bit your lip. Anything could have happened to him. There could be a problem with the subway, maybe he got injured on the way home, or something else could have happened.

Spencer’s an FBI agent though and is licenced to carry a gun. Not to mention, he’s a literal genius. If he got into trouble, you had no doubt that he would either be able to get himself out or be able to contact someone to raise an alarm.

Your mind told you that he was with Derek, that they were together and gotten distracted one way for another. They were like brothers, and easily got carried away and forgot about the time.

Spencer had to be fine. He had to be.

Hanging his bag on its hanger, Spencer closed the door. He toed off his shoes, pulling his arms from his cardigan. It had been a long night, a long week, in fact, and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. He smiled at the thought of crawling into bed and curling around you, of cuddling into you and breathing in your scent as he fell asleep.

Spencer used to love going on cases but after he met you, that changed. Now, he wanted to get them over and get home as soon as possible. He missed you every moment he was gone. He missed waking up with you, with your toes pressed into his leg as you sought out his warmth. He missed reading to you in evenings, gazing at your peaceful face as he spoke the words from memory. He missed the kisses before bed, the giggles you’d make when he would tickle your side as you both laid beneath the duvet.

He walked down the small hallway and into the open-plan living room and kitchen. The first thing his eyes land on is the small dining table. His mouth parts a little as he looks at the single plate of food, a knife and fork beside it. it was his favourite meal but he knew it was stone cold, yet he remembered the taste and his mouth watered at the sight.

You had cooked for him.

His stomach began to twist as he turned towards the front room. The TV was on, displaying the menu for a DVD from his new Doctor Who collection, whose box sat beside the TV. Then he saw you, sitting on the couch and watching him.

His stomach dropped. You had been waiting for him. You had cooked him his favourite dinner, put on his favourite show and were waiting for him. He had told you he would be home by eight, and it was nearing one-thirty in the morning. The guilt in his stomach twisted like a knife as you stood up.

He knew you were mad; he could see it in the hard set of your jaw. He could also see the sadness swimming in your eyes as you looked at him. He had let you down, and he knew it wasn’t something you were easily going to forgive him for.

“You said you’d be home at eight” your voice was low, soft, but he could hear the sadness in your words.

“Yeah…” he agreed, he had said that. He had promised that.

“Where were you?” you asked. “I was worried, you didn’t call or anything.”

“Erm… Derek, he…erm… wanted to go to a bar” Spencer replied, looking down at his mix matched socks.

“So you went? You went, knowing that I was here, waiting for you” you shook your head, looking away from him in an attempt to hold back your anger. “You went to a bar with Derek, after telling me you would be home by eight? You didn’t even let me know! I’ve been waiting for you, Spencer, I cooked you dinner and everything.” “Y/N… I’m sorry” he reached out to you but you held up your hand, taking a step back.

He had gone to a pub. A pub. He didn’t even have the decency to call you, or even text, to say that he wasn’t going to be coming home when he said. He had left you to wait for him, to worry for him. And though you’ve hurt, you’re angry. Angry that this is the way he is treating you. He doesn’t even like pubs, so why would he leave you to go to one?

This isn’t the first time he’s done this either. He had done the same thing a month ago, just went out with his team after telling you that he’d be home for dinner in an hour. You had fell asleep on the couch waiting for him that night.

“You always do this to me” You shook your head, looking at him in disappointment. And, looking at your face, Spencer thought that was worse that seeing you angry.

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Abandoning me, you do it all the time!” You say. “You get called on a case and you don’t tell me, you leave me waiting at a restaurant. Stood up. You don’t tell me when your cases get extended, you tell me you’ll be gone two days but its six.”

“Y/N-” he begins, but you quickly cut him off.

“I don’t mind you going to clubs with Derek. I’m fine with cancelling plans because of work, I don’t mind that you’re called away” you tell him. “However, you don’t communicate with me. You stand me up, all the time. You don’t even call, and I’m tired of it. I did this for you Spencer.” You spread your arms out to gesture at the food and TV. “I try to do stuff for you and it goes to waste. Dinner reservations, movie nights, personal museum tours. They could have been rescheduled or the deposits refunded, if you had spoken to me. I… I’m tired of this Spencer. A relationship can’t work without communication.”

Spencer’s mouth is dry at your words, his own eyes stinging as he gazes sadly at your face. He can see how much it has affected you, how hurt you are but his actions. You were right though, he never called or texted you to let you know he wouldn’t be there for any of those things. His mind played over your words and his stomach twisted as the final sentence registered in his brain.

“What are you saying?” his voice is scratchy as he forces the words out, his fists clenched as he struggles not to cry.

“Maybe… Maybe we should take a break… for you to consider whether you can be committed, in all aspects, to this relationship” your voice is quiet as you answer him, your own eyes swimming with tears. “I’ll sleep in the spare room tonight, and then tomorrow… Well, Natasha said that I Could spend a few nights at hers.”

Spencer watched as you turned away from him, walking towards the spare room. You didn’t look back as you closed the door, and, finally, the tears fell from his eyes. This was it, he had lost you because he failed to do the most simple thing in a relationship. You were leaving him.

Permanent Tag List: @sskhair @sammypotato67 @spencerreids-wife @yoongi-holland @bucky-babygirl @youareperrrfectls @alexxcorona113 @tired-draculina @rachelxwayne @itsmoony @shigarakis-fifth-hand @andreasworlsboring101 @fantasticalfuchsbau @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @ourmrswonderlandlove @loverboyreid @kburgenstein

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid angst #i'm back to ruin your life

304 notes · View notes

storytellingfandom · 4 years

Text

Rainy Day kind of Love

Summary: It’s been raining all day, and of course, Lin’s been caught in it working. All she wants to do is go home, take a shower, and collapse. Luckily, you’re there to make sure she’s taken care of.

A/N: It’s been pouring down rain all day and the vibe I’m feeling. So enjoy this fluffy little Lin/Reader to help you feel cozy too.

Wordcount: 10252

It had been a terrible day. It had been pouring down rain all day, the wind was blowing, the power had gone out in several areas, there had been more accidents on that day than Lin could ever keep a count on. The only good thing about today was that she was getting out of the station on time. She was soaking wet from standing out in the rain supervising an accident after a Triad raid, which is probably the only reason she was going home.

Pulling her trench coat closer to her form, she ran the short distance from her Satomobile to the apartment building. Nodding to the man behind the front desk, she started up the stairs before using her cables to pull her up the rest of the way. The cold was beginning to seep into her bones at that point, her fingers were stiff so instead of her key, she used her fingers to flick the locks open and pushed the door open.

The sight made her smile, feeling a little bit warmer than she had been.

The smell of clean laundry hit her senses first, a soft, floral, clean scent that you used for the detergent. Neatly folded piles sat in a basket near the couch, a blanket ruffled on the couch. You had obviously been there not too terribly long ago curled up there if the empty tea cup was any indication.

Hanging her coat up to dry, she bent her armor off as well to put it next to the door so that it didn’t drip water all over the floor. Once she was dried off and warmed, she would come back and dry it and polish it if needed. Rubbing hands over her damp arms, she was grateful for the warmth of the apartment coming from the heater that you had obviously turned on at some point when the storm had picked up.

She found you in the kitchen with your back to her. Your hair was damp, piled messily on the top of your head, one of her shirts covering your form covering most of the shorts that you wore. Standing at the counter, you were chopping vegetables for the soup pot that sat on the stove. Perfect. Soup was something she could go for right about now.

Coming up behind you, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around your form, chin resting on your shoulder, pulling you closer to absorb your warmth.

“You’re so warm.”

“Spirits Lin!” You whirled around in her arms, cupping her cheeks. Taking her in, her hair was wet, her skin was frozen and damp and her pants were soaked through where her armor and boots didn’t cover it. “Were you out all day in this!? We need to get you in a bath with some hot tea.”

Lin chuckled but let herself be led by you back into the bathroom. Releasing Lin’s hand, you reached out to start the hot water for her. Turning, you helped her to get undressed, reaching up to pull pins from her hair and ran your fingers through the wet, dark grey waves.

She caught your face then, standing in her bindings and pants to press a kiss to your lips. It forced you to stop, to let your brain slow down from trying to focus so hard on taking care of her.

“Hi.” Lin murmured against your lips, fingers brushing against your warm skin.

“Hi.” You smiled back and kissed her back. “Missed you today.”

“Me too. How’d the meeting with the museum go?” Lin asked, pulling back to finish stripping for the shower.

“It was good! I think we’re going to get the funding to expand some things.” You answer with a smile. “I’ll tell you about it after you get warm. Tea will be ready when you’re done in here.”

Lin took her time in the shower, letting the water warm her up. Seeing your jasmine scented shampoo she opened it just to smell it before grabbing her own. It was a lavender mint you’d found for her at a market somewhere, the two scents were meant to relax her, and they worked. And though many would never believe it, she did like and enjoy soaps that smelled good and made her hair or skin as soft as these did.

When she did get out, she smiled when she saw how you’d laid out dry clothes for her. Sweatpants you’d put on the radiator to get it warm before laying it on the bed for her, and her typical white tank top.

Once dressed, she left her hair down for once before moving to join you back in the kitchen again. She tried to worm her way back to snuggle against your form but was stopped by a wooden spoon.

“Tea, drink, now.” You ordered, a smirk tugging on your lips when you noticed the slight pout. “You were out there all day Lin, in cold armor. Drink your tea and then maybe you can snuggle up to me.”

“I’m fine, Y/N, the shower helped.” Lin answered, but still found herself going to the mug and picked it up to start drinking it. Humming, she smiled to herself when she tasted the hint of whiskey that was laced in it. You knew her too well.

Walking over to her armor, she grabbed a towel from the pile in the basket before drying it off. Thankfully it didn’t look like it’d need to be polished. Bringing it to the bedroom, she placed it back in its case. Returning back to her tea, she took another long sip of it before setting it back on the table before going back into the kitchen.

Arms slid around your waist again, lips pressed into your clothed shoulder. “Do you need any help in here?”

“Hmm, if you want to get plates down and pull the pan out of the oven?” You asked, leaning into her.

“I can do that.” Lin murmured, reaching around to steal a piece of the finely chopped, brightly colored vegetables before you could smack her hand with your wooden spoon.

Chuckling, Lin hurried off with the plates. Setting them on the table, she also reached for glasses for some wine. The two of you deserved it. Making it back into the kitchen, she nudged you gently to move you away from the oven. Pulling it open, she pulled it out and groaned at the smell of the baked salmon that had been marinated in lemon, orange, and probably your famous mango sauce if she was looking at it correctly.

“Spirits Y/N, this smells and looks amazing.” Lin said moving to bring it to a table with oven mitts.

“I had a feeling you could use a good meal tonight.” You answered with a smile as you finished the dumpling soup and moved to saute the vegetables quickly.

Grabbing a couple of bowls, Lin dished out soup for the both of them before bringing it over to the table. With the vegetables done next, you dished them out over some rice before following her over to the table.

Lin walked over to your guys bar area and grabbed a bottle of wine. Uncorking it as she walked over to you again, she poured both of you some wine before sitting across from you.

“You didn’t have to do all of this you know.” Lin said, a small smile still crossing her features.

“I wanted to Lin, I got home early and wanted to do something nice for you. And get laundry done.” You smiled at her. “Besides, the leftovers will be great for the work week.”

“Mmm, that’s true.” Lin agreed, digging into the salmon, a moan escaped at the tastes that invaded her mouth. “Speaking of, it’s supposed to storm again tomorrow. Since we’re both off, I was thinking we could just stay in.”

“I would love that.” You beamed at her. It had been ages since the two of you had been able to just be home together with nothing to worry about. And you’d rip Korra’s head off if she came in search of Lin for one reason or another to clean up some kind of mess if she showed up tomorrow. Though, you didn’t mention it to Lin.

The rest of dinner was spent in quiet conversation, you told her how you were able to get the funding for more areas in the museum besides the air bending section. You were also working with several nations leaders to expand the museum’s library and access to historical documents as well. Especially for non benders who had family who did bend but they weren’t allowed the same information by many places. Something you were striving to, loudly, change. Something she supported you every step of the way.

Once dinner was done, she shooed you out of the kitchen to do the dishes herself. Making your way to the laundry, you put it away before meeting her back at the couch. Collapsing onto it, Lin’s arm came around you pulling you close and into her.

The radio played softly in the background, some gentle jazz piece with pianos and saxophones taking the lead on it. Lin’s fingers reaching up to tug the hair tie holding your hair in the bun out to bury her fingers in it, releasing the jasmine smell into the air and letting it slide through her fingers. Lips moved to the top of your head and she just smiled against your hair.

Your fingers found her free hand, playing with her fingers and measuring them against your own. Pressing against them, feeling them, knowing every callous there, every little scar that was there. Lacing your fingers back together, you brought your laced fingers to your lips to kiss them gently.

“You’re incredible, do you know that?” You ask, looking up at Lin.

“Only as amazing as you are.” Lin smiled, chuckling when you gave her a look. “I know, I’m sorry. Thank you...if I’m amazing to you, then that’s all that matters.”

Nodding, you smiled and pushed up to kiss her, lips moving lazily against each as the warm, full feeling began to sink in for both of you. “Good girl. Come on, why don’t we go to bed, hm?”

“Spirits, that’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” Lin agreed and kissed the top of your head again before standing. Moving around the room, lights were turned off, the radio was switched off, and the heat turned down.

Moving to the bedroom, you climbed into bed with Lin. Rather than spoon tonight though, you tangled limbs together, arms around each other. Your face buried against her chest to listen to her steady heartbeat. You tried not to think of all the things in any given day that could stop this heart that you loved so adoringly, but you always trusted her to keep her promise. She would come home, she may be injured, but she would always come home. And that’s all that mattered.

“I love you.” You murmured, smiling when you felt Lin’s arms tighten around you.

“I love you too. More than you know.”

And so, wrapped in blankets with her favorite person on the planet, Lin Beifong fell asleep. It had been a long day, it had been a day she could easily want to just forget. But coming home to you, coming home to someone who loved her, who wanted to take care of her instead of the other way around, always made those days bearable.

#lin beifong #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong/reader #lok fanfiction #legend of korra fanfiction #legend of korra fanfic

280 notes · View notes

buckaroosboogara · 3 years

Text

911 week 2021 - Day 1:

“You stole another of my hoodies, didn’t you? ” + fluff.

(1300~ words, Buckley siblings and mentions of ppd.)

Maddie's laugh sounded from his Jeep's speakers. "Oh, Buck, you really think I can say 'if I find it you'll wash the dishes for a week' and your hoodie will appear?"

Buck grumbled, "I mean if it works..."

It was a chill December night in LA and Buck, although a Pennsylvania native, could feel it.

It was not enough to go full boots and gloves, but his poor circulation and not wanting to deal with a cold and call in sick for the next two shifts guided him straight to his bedroom the moment he felt a breeze on his bare arms.

Once on the loft, he directed to his wardrobe and started looking for something cozy but homey.

A hoodie.

He knew from memory where they were. He remembered having at least six hoodies some years before, but he was sure each Abby and Ali took one when he broke up with them, something he could never understand about women, so he had three left.

One was in his locker at the firehouse, ready for him to put after a shift, the other one probably left behind in Eddie's house after their last pizza night, and the last one, his LAFD one, was in his drawer, fresh and clean from last weekend's laundry.

Except when he looked for it, it wasn't there.

He turned his whole wardrobe upside down and nothing.

The thing was that this was the last hoodie the Department gave him until June of the next year. He had already torn two in the last year, between a call with a kitten and showing off in the gym.

Between these thoughts was that he reached the bottom corner of the last drawer, seeing something he hadn't seen in years. His Navy SEAL hoodie.

It had, unfortunately for him, shrunk so it had no use now. He placed it back where it was, and then put back all the clothes he had taken out.

Buck begrudgingly put on a fancy sweater before going down again, his mind still thinking about his disappeared hoodie and the weather in his next shifts.

...

"And now it results that the one I thought I had in the station vanished into thin air too, though Eddie already told me he would bring the one I left in his house," Buck whined to his sister the next day while he drove back home after his shift. "In consequence, I need your special new mom powers."

Her laugh sounded from his Jeep's speakers. "Oh, Buck, you really think I can say 'if I find it you'll wash the dishes for a week' and it will appear?"

Buck grumbled, "I mean if it works..."

Maddie chuckled one more time and Buck also heard Jee giggling in the background. It was nice to hear them laugh, especially after the mental storm Maddie had been through. "You know what, if you cook something nice for dinner tomorrow, I'll help you looking for your hoodie, but I make no promises. "

"Yeah, sure! Nothing better than having my niece and my sister in my house,"

"Nuh-uh, the Lee's will babysit her tomorrow, to let us have time for ourselves. They have been helping us a lot, you know, with my... ppd,"

"Okay, then it'll be a Buckley siblings night, just for us!" Buck tried to smile, wishing he could do something else to help her.

"Yeah, just like the old ti- oh god..." She cut herself and started chuckling.

Buck's eyes darted from the streets to his phone and back to the streets, like he would be able to see her. "Maddie?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry," She said, laugh turned giggle. "Hey um, I gotta go, Jee... uh she needs a change of diapers... uh see you tomorrow at 8?"

He was taken aback by her sudden urge to leave the call, "Uh, y-yeah sure Mads, take care."

"Bye, love ya!"

"Love you-" Buck said and the call was ended by his sister. "-too."

So that was weird, he thought while he parked the Jeep outside his apartment building.

Now he needed to plan a fancy meal to cook for his sister.

He would call Bobby for advice later, but now he was craving for a bed and some hours of undisturbed sleep.

...

Apple juice for Maddie? Check.

Pan ready to use? Check.

Carrot sticks so Maddie didn't eat the main ingredients before dinner? Also, check.

It has been a while since they had a siblings' night, and he was ready and very excited to have Maddie over.

He would definitely ask her what was going on with her after the sudden goodbyes they exchanged on their call the day before.

He continued to chop some more onions and peppers for the stir-fry he had come up with (with Bobby's help) as he hummed to his playlist until some minutes later someone knocked on his door.

He lowered the heat on the pan and opened the door to find Maddie waiting outside. She was carrying a bag.

"Hey, you are finally here!" Buck made her pass and hugged her.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late, but I needed to find this." She pulled away from his arms and gave him the bag.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and then opened the bag. There, clean and fresh, was his LAFD hoodie.

"You stole another of my hoodies, didn't you?"

Maddie chuckled as she went for the carrot sticks on the counter. "Maybe."

"Just like when we were little. Mine always fit you perfectly although I am years younger." Buck huffed a laugh. "Why don't you steal hoodies from your boyfriend? He's much closer to give them back."

He left the bag with the hoodie on the couch and went back to the kitchen, kissing Maddie on the cheek. "Thanks for bringing it. But how did you even...?"

"Remember the call yesterday?" Maddie asked. Buck nodded, stirring the stir-fry.

"Well, I was folding clothes and I found two blue hoodies, which is weird because Chimney has one." She grabbed another stick. "And I remembered when I called you on Monday because it was raining heavily and one of my wheels got flat."

Buck looked up, realizing, "Right, you were soaked and I gave you my hoodie. And I forgot."

"Yeah, I knew you would." Maddie made a smirk and Buck directed her a look.

"What? Sometimes you don't lose your head because it's attached to your neck."

"Did you come here to offend me?" Buck teased.

"No, I came here to eat," Maddie answered.

"Good, help me set the table, and then I'll show you a surprise."

...

"So, what is it?" Maddie asked while she helped her brother to wash the dishes after their lovely dinner. "Wait, is it pudding? You know how much I love it."

Buck laughed, "No, it's not pudding although I do have some in the fridge. Just- look for it and I'll be right back."

And he disappeared upstairs in his bedroom.

Minutes later, Maddie was enjoying her chocolate pudding when Buck came down with something in his hands and a smile on his face.

"Here, you can have this." He passed her the thing and she stretched it to have a better look.

It was a gray hoodie, which read 'Navy SEALs' in the middle, with their logo in blue. It was soft and smelled like Buck's cologne.

"For me?" She asked him.

"Yeah, I found it the other day and it's shrunken. It doesn't fit me so... I guessed it would fit you." Buck scratched his neck. "That way, you will always have something mine with you."

"I already have you Buck." She hugged him tightly.

"Great, so can I have it back?"

"Oh no, there's no turning back now." Maddie chuckled.

"Okay, but put it on, I wanna see how it looks." Buck muttered into their hug.

She did as told and straightened it, taking in the smell and comfort. The sleeves were too long for her arms, but perfect to cover her almost always cold hands.

Maddie looked up at Buck with a wide smile, "How does it look?"

"Perfect."

"Thank you."

"Nonsense, thank you for saving my ass from having to explain to Chief Alonzo why did I need another hoodie." Buck said as he sat on the couch and started eating the pudding.

Maddie sat by his side and snuggled next to him as both chuckled. "Well, what are siblings for then?"

Buck made a thinking face, "Oh, I don't know, maybe for annoying you forever?"

Maddie smacked him with the hoodie's sleeve and both laughed louder, remembering the old times together.

#911week2021 #buckley siblings #maddie buckley #evan buckley #911 week 2021: day 1 #911 on fox #911 fox #fluff #911 fic #911 fanfic #my fics

26 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

You've Got the Love I Need (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Five times Denali and Rosé share their love with a love language, and one time they share it with words.

A/N: So excited to finally finish this! Writing has been so slow for me after finishing up the hunger games fic, but I finally got this done, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing! Please leave feedback if you'd like, I really do appreciate it and love hearing your thoughts!

Title from You've Got the Love by Florence + the Machine.

1. Acts of Service

“Denali, are you sure you don’t need help with that?” Rosé asks--or rather, she asks the pile of clothes Denali is hidden behind, as she carries an overflowing laundry basket.

“I got it.”

“I think I’d be more convinced if I could actually see you.” Rosé leaves the rice she’s stirring and helps Denali set the laundry basket down on the floor, clothes spilling over the sides.

Denali sighs, picking up a shirt and folding it before tossing it back down. “I should probably finish dinner before I do this. Ugh, and I still need to shower and revise that competition routine.” She rubs at her tired eyes, and Rosé’s heart aches. Denali’s had such a busy week at work that she’s gotten behind in just about everything else. Rosé offered to help her already, but Denali said she was fine, so used to doing things on her own that asking for help--let alone accepting it--wouldn’t even cross her mind.

“Hey.” Rosé gently rests her hands on Denali’s shoulders. “I’ll finish dinner while you take a shower. Then you can finish your work after.”

She sees the immediate protest in Denali’s eyes, the stubborn insistence that she can do everything on her own. And technically she can, but Rosé doesn’t want her to stress herself when she doesn’t have to. Rosé is more than happy to help, and she herds Denali to the bathroom before she can protest.

Rosé hums through the kitchen, organizing the fridge and loading Denali’s dishwasher, arranging all the food on the table as Denali emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp at the edges, her face soft and smile wide.

“This is so good,” Denali sighs around a mouthful of food. “Maybe I should let you cook more often.”

Rosé just laughs. She’s gotten better at cooking over the years, especially in the past few months she’s been dating Denali, eager to try new recipes that would make Denali happy.

They do the dishes side by side, bumping hips and shoulders, and retreat to the couch so Denali can work while a cooking show plays in the background.

Rosé reaches for the laundry basket and starts folding one of Denali’s towels.

“You don’t have to do that,” Denali says.

“I want to.”

“But it’s our date night, you shouldn’t have to--”

“I want to,” Rosé says again. “I like helping you out, taking care of you. I mean it.”

Denali smiles hesitantly, relaxing again as she returns to her work, and it fills Rosé with warmth. It’s special to help Denali like this, to take care of her and ease some of her stress, and it’s even more special because of how stubborn and independent Denali normally is. She’s not just accepting Rosé’s help, but her love as well. Love that Rosé wants to give, give in every folded towel and every dinner she makes, a love made of her care. Love that she hasn’t been able to put into words yet, thinking it was too early for those exact words, that she should wait a bit more to say them.

She finishes the laundry and when Denali finishes her work, they come together on the couch like two waves meeting. Denali snuggles against Rosé’s right side, resting her head on her shoulder, while Rosé slips an arm around her waist, holding her tight. Denali is half-asleep when the show ends, and Rosé carefully carries her to bed and tucks her in, leaving with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

—-

2. Words of Affirmation

Despite the freezing cold of the skating rink’s locker room, sweat beads on Denali’s forehead. This is the first routine she’s choreographed and coached for the eleven-and-twelve-year-old group she just took on in addition to the younger kids. Before that she stuck mostly with five- and six-year-olds, who were encouraged on the ice by their parents and thrilled by the sparkly costumes and idea of jumping in the air. It’s fun, and most of them stop formal lessons when it’s time to move into the next age group. But there’s rarely anyone who would continue to the eleven-twelve group if they weren’t serious about it, weren’t in it to compete and win. They’ll be competing with Denali as the coach now, with Denali to blame if something goes wrong.

What if something does go wrong? What if she didn’t teach them well enough? What if she’s not even a good teacher at all, and all the things she did teach them are wrong? What if someone gets hurt because of her? What if--

“I don’t know what it is about the snack bar here, but their hot chocolate is so good--Denali, what’s wrong?”

Denali’s head snaps up to see Rosé in the locker room, two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate in her hands. She sets them on a bench and comes to Denali’s side, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you nervous about the routine?” Rosé asks.

Denali nods shakily, drawing in a breath. “It’s…bigger than I’m used to. With the little kids, it’s a huge deal if they stand up the whole time. But these kids really want to be great, and don’t even get me started on the parents. I’m just worried I didn’t teach them well enough, that I’m a bad coach.”

It’s a weight off her chest, and it leaves her slumping in relief, leaning into the hands Rosé places on her arms.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Rosé says gently. “I was a wreck when I started teaching and we had our first choir concert. But you’re an amazing coach. I know you’ve taught those kids everything they need to know. I believe in you, Denali, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Those kids are lucky to have you as their coach. And if any of their parents give you trouble, they’ll have to go through me first,” Rosé says fiercely, squeezing Denali’s arms.

Denali wipes away a tear, Rosé’s words everything she needed to hear. Denali’s no stranger to anxiety, to the doubts and worries swirling around her head. But to have Rosé, to have those words of trust and support, is sometimes exactly what she needs to quiet them down. Rosé believes in her, and Denali can believe in herself too.

“You’re right,” Denali says quietly. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Rosé nods, handing Denali one of the cups. “Let’s have some hot chocolate and go out there, okay?”

Denali nods, the drink warming her just as much as Rosé’s hand in hers as they head out.

—-

3. Quality Time

Ever since Rosé was little, she’s loved blanket forts. It started out as something her parents would do to make movie nights more special, but it quickly became something she asked for almost every weekend, or whenever she was upset. Something about curling up on the living room rug with blankets all around her made her feel safe, made movies even better and soothed any bad days she had at school.

The first time Rosé sheepishly suggested they watch a movie inside one, she hadn’t expected Denali to leap to her feet and run around the place looking for blankets and pillows. Denali had been in some nature scout troop when she was a kid--Rosé squealed at the picture of tiny Denali, teeth missing from her wide smile, wearing a vest and sash covered in patches--and knew how to pitch a tent, a skill she brought to their blanket fort. She used kitchen chairs and the couch for extra support, a canopy of cotton and flannel covering the living room. It stood strong and sturdy while they were nestled safely inside, and it became a movie night tradition.

“How’s the popcorn coming?” Denali asks.

“Almost done.” Rosé shakes the pot as the kernels pop while Denali tends to the hot chocolate, pouring it into two mugs--the one with little cartoon dogs Rosé bought so Denali could have her own special mug here, and the one with pink music notes Denali got Rosé as a just-because gift.

Rosé dumps the popcorn in a big bowl and Denali drops fistfuls of marshmallows into the mugs, bringing it all to the living room and sliding under the blanket fort.

The best part about the fort is that it’s just them inside. They leave their phones on the couch, and there’s no work, no stress, no distractions. Just them together, their attention fully devoted to each other. A time to simply be together with nothing in the way.

Rosé starts Stardust, nestling into the long body pillow perfect for fort nights, letting Denali snuggle up next to her. Rosé takes in her long eyelashes, her warm eyes, her soft lips. She takes it all in, this time to just be with Denali.

It would be a good time to tell Denali she loves her, but it’s so quiet, so peaceful, just their breathing and the movie, that Rosé doesn’t want to disturb the moment. Besides, being with Denali like this, wiping melted marshmallow off her nose, is a love more than words can describe.

—

4. Physical Touch

Denali has always loved touch. Her parents loved her, she never doubted that, but they weren’t ones for physical affection. So Denali treasured every hug or hand on a shoulder she got from them, and sought out touches wherever she could get them. Her skating coach’s arms around her in a hug, congratulating her on her routine. A friend’s legs thrown over hers while they lay in the sunny backyard. Holding hands and interlocking fingers with her first boyfriend in high school, her first girlfriend in college.

She always sought and gave touches in her relationships. An arm around their waist, a hand on their back, her head on their shoulder. Something to let them know she was there, to share her love with them. And every touch she got back let her know they were there, filled her with their love too.

Rosé had told Denali early on that she’s asexual, and it didn’t change the way Denali feels about her, didn’t make her want to stop dating Rosé, just like Denali telling Rosé she’s bi didn’t change things either. If anything, it brought them closer, brought another level of trust between them.

But Denali also wanted to make sure her touches were okay, so they talked about what Rosé is comfortable with, what her boundaries are. Rosé gets a little uncomfortable with hands on her thighs, but she loves pretty much all other touches, loves them just as much as Denali. Hand-holding, bumping into each other while they cook, cuddling while they watch movies—Denali loves it all, and loves receiving it from Rosé especially, being filled with her love. Denali’s favorite is when Rosé wraps her arms around her from behind, resting her chin on Denali’s shoulder. Rosé does it now, and Denali melts into the touch. Rosé’s been extra clingy tonight, and Denali knows it’s because she’s had a stressful week, busy with concert rehearsals for her music classes.

“Cuddles tonight?” Denali asks. The touch will comfort Rosé, but each touch will comfort Denali too, letting her share her love and feel close to Rosé.

“Please,” Rosé sighs, guiding her to the couch with her arms still around Denali’s waist. She lays on her back and pulls Denali on top of her, their touches not stopping for a moment. “This week has been so long. I swear I hear those choir songs in my sleep.”

Denali snorts, resting her head on Rosé’s chest and stroking her arm. Her touches are gentle yet grounding, soothing the both of them, giving and receiving love the best way she knows how. She continues the touches as Rosé talks, talks about how much her students have improved, how excited they are. She’s rubbing gentle circles on Rosé’s shoulder as her words slow down and her eyes drift closed.

I love you, Denali thinks. They haven’t said it yet, though it’s not for a lack of the feeling. More that they feel it so much, both in themselves and from each other, that they’ve been hesitant to turn it to words, waiting for an opportunity that would be worthy of such a confession.

Denali could just say it now. She doesn’t need a special occasion to say it, even if it’s the first time. But Rosé has been still for the past few minutes, so she’s at least half-asleep, if not all the way there. Denali can wait. She strokes Rosé’s hair, and when Rosé sighs in content, Denali thinks she got the message anyway.

—-

5. Receiving Gifts

“Rosieeeee.”

Rosé looks up as Denali enters the apartment singing her name.

“What is it?”

“I got a present for you.” Denali has that almost-smug smile on her face, the one she always gets when has something she knows Rosé will love.

And Rosé finds a similar smile of excitement crossing her own face, eagerly accepting the bag Denali gives her. It’s not that Rosé has come to expect Denali to bring her something all the time. It’s not that she even wants Denali to bring something all the time, or that she sees her as nothing but a gift-bringer. It’s that Denali’s gifts, which might be tiny little things to anyone else, make Rosé feel loved. Make her feel known. No matter what Denali brings, Rosé loves it. Sometimes it’s something sweet, a chocolate bar with ruby chocolate purchased because it’s Rosé’s favorite color, shared between them while watching a movie. Sometimes it’s just silly, like the mini unicorn erasers Rosé keeps in a little bowl by her desk. They’re all treasured by Rosé, because Denali saw even the tiniest thing in a store somewhere and instantly thought of her, and it makes Rosé marvel at Denali’s love every time.

It’s like when her parents would surprise her with a new book that became a favorite, or with a new pack of crayons that she used to fill up her coloring books. The purest feeling of excitement, of trust and safety and love.

“Come on, open it!”

As much as she loves to receive the gifts, to receive Denali’s love, it’s equally clear how much Denali loves to give it. She barely makes it five seconds before giving it to Rosé, watching her open it with that proud grin on her face like a parent watching their kid on Christmas morning.

That grin is on full display now, and Rosé smiles too as she pulls the top off a box, one you might use for earrings or a necklace. Inside the box is a beautiful rose keychain, soft pink with gold sparkles. But the keychain is attached to something--to a key, and Rosé looks up in confusion.

Denali looks at her. “I figured it was about time you had a key to my place. Just in case, you know?”

Rosé grins. “You’re gonna regret this, Denali. I’ll sneak in your room at six am and give you a singing wake-up call. You’re not getting rid of me now,” she teases, but she squeezes Denali’s hand to show how much it means to her.

“I’d never want to get rid of you,” Denali says. “Unless you really do show up at six, then I’m taking that key back and burning it.”

They laugh together, and Rosé already plans on going there next week to surprise Denali.

---

“Are you ready?” Rosé asks.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Denali says confidently, rubbing her hands together. “The real question is whether this place is ready for me.”

She strides into the boardwalk arcade, relishing in the bright neon lights and the hiss of arcade games spitting out paper tickets. Her parents used to drag her out of here as a kid, cutting short her quest to earn enough tickets for one of the big prizes, not just the bouncy ball or eraser you got for a mere 300 tickets. But today, it’s just her and Rosé, and they’ve already gone on the boardwalk rides and stuffed themselves with funnel cake, and now they can stay here as long as they want, clear the place out of tickets and prizes.

Denali hits up the skee-ball racks first, her and Rosé giggling next to each other as their balls fly up the ramps, giving into their competitive sides just a little as they aim for the 100-point slots in the top.

“Your aim could use a little work,” Rosé teases.

“So could your form,” Denali says. “Let me take you to the rink some time, I’ll help with that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” It’ll be another adventure, another night to enjoy, and Denali looks at Rosé, at her beautiful smile that still makes Denali’s heart flutter, and knows there’ll be no shortage of adventures, of nights like this.

She grabs Rosé’s hand and they race across the sticky floor, taking on pinball and balloon darts and Pac-Man, joking and laughing the whole time. At the end of the night, tickets spill out of their hands like tentacles, and Denali looks up at the row of prizes behind the main desk. She turns to Rosé and nods, and they pass out their tickets to the kids scattered through the arcade.

“Ice cream?” Denali asks. “All that winning made me hungry.”

Rosé snorts, but happily leads her to the ice cream stand. The stars are just starting to come out, little twinkles that catch Rosé’s hair, and Denali looks at her and says it.

“I love you.” She doesn’t need a special occasion for it, doesn’t need a worthy moment. Her love is something she can share as often as she wants, in words and in actions.

Rosé’s eyes widen and she breaks into a huge smile, pulling Denali close and kissing her cheek.

“I love you too.”

#submission #rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #fluff #lesbian au #athena2 #concrit welcome

6 notes · View notes

oldfashionedmoth · 4 years

Text

Fred and George do QVC

Find me on AO3

It was a bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon, and Harry Potter was stuck inside folding laundry. He stared longingly at the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. Lately, he had been feeling listless and filled with ennui. His life at the Dursley’s was considerably less exciting than his life at school. Albeit, he didn’t have a crazed, nose-less, master wizard, trying to murder him here; but even that might have been an improvement, to the boredom he had felt all summer. He glanced across the room at his Aunt Petunia, who lounged on the sofa, half asleep. He wondered if she’d notice if he escaped outside, for a breath of fresh air. Uncle Vernon had just left, with Dudley and his friends, to see a professional football match. This was one of the numerous birthday surprises his aunt and uncle had lavished their son with. Harry would have liked to had gone too, but he was told “the laundry wasn’t going to fold itself.”

“If I were allowed to use magic outside of school, the laundry certainly *would* fold itself.” Harry thought bitterly.

The TV chattered away in the background.

“…and just so we’re clear, these are dishwasher safe?”

“Yes, that’s right, Antonella. The Scrub Daddy is absolutely dishwasher safe.”

“And remember, you’re getting 12 of these! Order code 63528, when you call in.”

“Yes, and just quickly…because I know we are running out of time… I wanted to show you that the design for these is not just a smiley face. These are fully functional. Put your two fingers in the eye holes like so, and it stays on your fingers. That’s going to be fantastic for getting inside of mugs, cups, you name it.”

“Wow! that’s ingenious!”

The presenter turned and addressed the camera directly, holding the item for sale.

“Look! Here is what you’re getting, guys. And this packaging! Ah! This custom packaging is exclusive to QVC, guys. And, all this could be yours, for 4 easy payments of $7.49. Amazing!”

The camera zoomed in, on the presenter’s face.

“Coming up, we have a couple of young entrepreneurs, showing us their latest confections. I’m sure we all know someone with a sweet tooth. Just wait till you see what these boys have in store for us today. But first, make sure you get your orders in for the Scrub Daddy. These things are selling like hot cakes!”

The shot cut to a pre-recorded infomercial, for Scrub Daddy sponges.

“Hmmph!” Aunt Petunia snorted “I should order some of those for you, so you’ll stop ruining my pots!”

Harry muttered under his breath “Well, if you fixed the dishwasher, instead of using me as your personal slave, I wouldn’t have to scrub the pots.”

“What was that?!” snapped Aunt Petunia, “You ungrateful little brat! After all your uncle and I have done for you; taking you in, like we did, after your parents…well…You should be ecstatic that I even offered to buy you anything!”

In a huff, she snatched the remote control off the coffee table and turned up the volume.

Harry put the folded laundry in the basket and stood to bring them upstairs.

“Up next, we have twins Fred and George Weasley, of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, here with us today. Welcome boys!”

Harry froze, gobsmacked. Much to his disbelief, there was his best friend’s older brothers, peddling their wares on QVC. One was wearing an evening tailcoat, which was neon orange with lime green polka dots. His trousers were also neon orange, but with a lime green tuxedo stripe running down each leg. The other twin was wearing the same tailcoat and tuxedo trousers, but in inverse colors to his brother. In contrast to the loudness of their jackets, both boys were wearing black cravats around their necks, giving them a ‘Victorian Regency on acid’ kind of look.

“Thanks for having us, Antonella. We’re happy to be here!” said one of the twins

“Remind us to buy a pack of those Scrub Daddies, before we leave.” said the other, “Our Dad would get such a kick out of them. Sponges with smiley faces. What a concept! Haha!”

His brother leaned into him, and theatrically whispered “We don’t need them ourselves. We can just use Malfoy’s head.” He held up two fingers in a sideways peace sign, and pretended to poke his brother in both eyes. “His hair is great at soaking up grease.”

The twins snickered together, as the presenter, unperturbed, carried on with the sales pitch.

“Fred and George have brought with them some of their Skiving Snackbox candies. Now, judging by the names of some of these, I think these would be perfect as a novelty get-well present, for someone in your life who’s been feeling a little under the weather. There’s something for every ailment. We’ve got ‘fever fudge’, ‘fainting fancies’, ‘nosebleed nougat’ and last but not least, ‘puking pastilles.’ Hehe! Now, what made you boys come up with this concept, for these sweets?”

“Well,” said Fred, “they’re not exactly for someone who’s already sick."

"That could result in some disastrous side effects.” quipped George

Fred turned to the camera and added “Always read the labels, kids!”

George continued, “They make you temporarily ill, if for example, you wanted the day off work. You pop in a fainting fancy. Bob’s your uncle-Fanny’s your Aunt, suddenly your GP has prescribed you a day of bed rest.”

“Oh, but totally 100% all muggle, I mean natural. 100% all natural.” Fred interjected

“Yes, definitely nothing magical about these candies at all.” George agreed, with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, I get it!” exclaimed the host, “That’s just like the Natural Herbal Detox Tea, we had on the show last month. This may be TMI, but I swear I was on the toilet for a week, after that segment! Hehehe!”

Fred laughed and said, “Now would be a good time for me to tell one of my poop jokes.”

George replied “Nah, they always stink!”

“Hey-oh!” they cried, while high-fiving each other.

“You know what you needed?” Fred asked the host, “The Skiving Snackbox’s companion product, ‘You-No-Poo’. Guaranteed to cause crippling constipation in less than 3 minutes!”

“The constipation sensation, that’s gripping the nation!” exclaimed George

“Well, being conscious of time, lets move right along.” Antonella said, “Our viewers at home are probably wondering ‘but how do they taste?’ Let’s find out, shall we?”

She popped a candy into her mouth, and immediately started retching.

“NOOO!” the twins shouted in unison.

“You’re not supposed to eat the whole thing at once!” lamented Fred

“You’re only supposed eat half!” followed George

“The antidote is in the second half.” continued Fred

The poor unsuspecting host began urging in a rhythmic way, “Blech...Blech...Blech...Blech...”

“Oh no!” wailed George “I think she’s stuck in vom-limbo.”

“Both sides of the sweet must be working against each other!” added Fred

“It’s simultaneously trying to make her be sick, and also keeping any sick from coming up.” George concurred.

Panic-stricken, Fred started rifling through his rugsack. He began removing items and throwing them behind him. A roll of parchment; a quill; various bottles and vials; a bowler hat; a cup of tea, complete with saucer; a set of fireworks, which exploded upon impact with the floor; a broom; a Yorkshire pudding; a literal kitchen sink...

Between urges, Antonella asked “How...blech...did...blech...you...blech...fit...blech...all...blech...that...blech...in...blech...there?”

“Never mind that now! Here, eat this!” bellowed Fred, shoving the found antidote in the host’s mouth.

Finally, the retching stopped, but with it came a lengthy spew of vomit across the set, with such ferocity it rivaled Linda Blair in the exorcist. The show quickly switched to camera angle “B” to avoid broadcasting Antonella’s lost lunch to the viewers.

“I think it’s best we...uhh...take a little break,” the presenter said shakily, wiping tears and vomit from her face. “ugh... Up next we have Ken Oschipok with his beautifully iridescent Ammolite and White Zircon silver rings...ahh...oh...just a second, my producer is telling me something...”

She touched her finger to her ear, turned away from the camera and hissed into her mic “What do you mean you can’t find the rings? A Platypus? Are…are you sure it was a platypus? How did a platypus get in here, and why would it steal our merchandise?”

Fred and George exchanged worried glances.

The presenter looked back to camera, with a wide grin plastered on her face, “Sorry guys, we are just having a little bit of...umm...technical difficulties. We’ll be right back wi...OH!”

Suddenly a red envelope swooped down out of nowhere, flicked Antonella across the nose and stopped abruptly in front of the twins. A loud but shrill voice echoed throughout the studio.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! OF ALL THE COCKAMAMIE STUNTS YOU’VE EVER PULLED — MUGGLE TV? YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU! IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I RECEIVED A CALL FROM RITA SKEETER, ASKING FOR A QUOTE FROM THE DELINQUENTS’ MOTHER — I NEVER — IN ALL MY DAYS — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK ~ AGAIN! AS IF THE MINISTRY HASN’T BEEN FACING ENOUGH BACKLASH, AFTER THAT NIFFLER GETTING LOOSE, NOW THIS? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU TWO COME HOME THIS INSTANT!!!"

Once the assault on everyone’s ears subsided, the presenter unsteadily staggered out of shot, with her hand on her forehead, murmuring “I think I need a nap, or a drink, or both”

The screen cut to another pre-recorded infomercial; a cheerful rock jingle began to play.

You wanna skip class, but not look like an ass? If you want an excuse; What have you got to lose? You better show some moxie, Grab a Skiving Snack Box-y From Weasley- Wizard - Wheezes!

Harry stood slack jawed, in the living room, transfixed by what had just played out on the tv in front of him. Clean laundry scattered around his feet, from where he’d dropped the basket.

“Bloody Hell! Those crazy troll bogeys!” He thought with a grin. A shocked guffaw escaped his throat.

Aunt Petunia gave him a scandalized glare and shrieked “I suppose you have something to do with this?”

Harry scooped all the laundry into his arms and dashed upstairs before she could chastise him any further. Although, he imagined any tongue-lashing Aunt Petunia could give him, would pale in comparison to the dressing down the twins were probably getting, from Molly Weasley, right now. She is one fierce boss-witch.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Burrow, right now” Harry said to himself, with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to hear the details from Ron!”

#Harry Potter #fred & george weasley #skiving snack box #weasley wizard wheezes #qvc

15 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Three

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, and some Angst.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Julia mostly kept her distance from Harry as much as she could for the rest of the week. She was embarrassed by what she had done, or what she had attempted to do. Harry couldn’t wait to get home to you. He felt slightly depressed Friday morning. It was your six month anniversary, and he wasn’t even there to be with you. He didn’t say much at breakfast.

“Everything alright, H? You should be happy, we’ve done great work this week.”

“I’m fine, I-“ His phone goes off. A notification from Instagram and Facebook.

You had edited together a video for him. It was of the two of you, different pictures and videos of the two of you over the last six months with one of your favorite songs in the background. It was a song you two had listened to on the way to New Hampshire. Your message in the caption was short and sweet.

To the man I’m lucky enough to call my boyfriend and the love of my life, six months may not seem like a long time to others, but I have loved nothing more than being with you all this time. You make every day better. I can’t wait to see what the next six months hold for us. I love you, Harry.

Harry put his phone down and put his face in his hands. He starts crying, leaving Christin and Julia deeply concerned and confused.

“Harry?” Christin puts a hand on his shoulder. He slides his phone over to her so she can watch the video. “Oh…honey…” He grabs a napkin and blows his nose. His eyes were red and puffy. “It’s your anniversary?” He nods his head yes. Christin had never seen him like this before. She finally understood he really had it bad. “This was shit timing, I’m so sorry.”

“I need to….I need to go call her, excuse me.” He sniffles and gets up to call you.

“Hi baby.” You coo.

“Hi…saw your video…”

“Are…are you crying?”

“No!” He wipes his eyes. “Okay, maybe a little, but only because it was so sweet and I just wish I was with you.”

“Oh, Harry.” You wish you were there to console him, your sensitive boy.

“Um…before I left I packed away something for you. Can I tell you where it is?”

“You don’t want me to wait until you get back?”

“No, it’s similar to what you did for me, so I want you to have it now.”

“Alright. Where would it be?”

“Go to where all of my picture boxes are.”

“Okay, one sec.” He hears you shuffle around. “Okay.”

“It’s in the box labeled London 2015.”

You open up the box and gasp, a smile grows on Harry’s face. Inside was a photo album with a picture of the two of you on the front. It looked like he had it made himself.

“Printed it at work.”

“Oh my god, Harry.”

“Flip through it later. Just wanted to know you had it.”

“I can’t wait to look through it, this is so sweet. I love you so much.” He feels tears prick at his eyes again.

“I love you too.”

“Only one more sleep baby.”

“I know.”

“I finished my period yesterday, so I’ll be good to go for you.” You joke, trying to make him happier.

“Well, that’s excellent news.” He chuckles, and then sighs. “I have to go…I’ll call you later.”

“Sounds good, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too, love you.”

“Love you too.”

He hangs up the phone and walks back over to the table. He slumps down in his chair. Christin looks at Julia, then to Harry.

“I’ll be fine.” He takes a sip of coffee. “I don’t want a word of this spread, do you both understand?” Christin smiles at him. “What?”

You sit down on the sofa with the book. The picture on the front was him kissing you on the cheek on the London Eye. You open it up, and on the first page was a message from him.

To my light, my love, my everything.

You smile big as you flip to the next page. It was the picture of the two of you laughing on the trail when you went to New Hampshire, just underneath was the picture he had taken of you, and the picture you had taken of him. The next page were of some silly selfies and pictures you had taken of each other when you had lazy days at each of your apartments. There were pictures from England he hadn’t shown you. Some from Christmas morning, and others while you walked around London. He must have been planning this book for a while. He had such an incredible eye, he was truly gifted at his craft. There were some pictures form your work party, and he had even managed to squeeze some pictures in from his birthday. When you were done you hugged it to your chest. You felt tears prick at your eyes, you were so overwhelmed.

You spent most of the morning organizing your linen closets, and medicine cabinets. Niall had been a big help all week. He help set up your wifi and TV. You had some pictures printed and put into frames. You left them on the floor under the walls where you wanted them. You didn’t want to hang anything up without Harry though, just to make sure he liked what you had put together.

During the midafternoon, you finally finished putting away all of yours and Harry’s clothes. You hoped he wouldn’t mind the way you folded his laundry, and chose the drawers each article should go in. Niall said he would meet you for dinner that night. At least you’d be able to go out with someone.

You meet him at an easy going bar after work.

“That video you posted was really sweet.”

“Thanks. He made me this really nice book filled with pictures of the two of us. I felt so bad, he called me crying this morning.” Your phone goes from a notification. “Oh wow.” You smile.

“What?”

“He posted about me on his private insta, look.” It was just on photo, and there was no caption, but it meant the world to you. “God, he’s so sweet.” You and Niall dig in to your food. “Are you seeing Sarah tonight?”

“Yeah, she’s comin’ over for dessert.” You both giggle.

“I’m so happy you guys are together. Do you think you two will ever move in together?”

“At some point. I was thinkin’ of givin’ her a key soon.”

“Oh! That’s great.”

“I have to say, selfishly I can’t wait for you to come back to work Monday. Was a borin’ week without ya.”

“I’m so sorry to have done that to you.” You put your hand over his playfully as you speak with a sarcastic tone.

“I ate in my office all week, the one day I tried to eat in the breakroom the old biddies came in and tried to gossip with me.”

“About what?” You laugh.

“I have no idea! I pretended to get a call on my phone and left.” You both laugh.

Dinner with Niall was the perfect distraction from missing Harry. When you get up to your place, and key in, you notice a pair of black boots in the front hall that weren’t there before you left. You practically run into the living room.

“Harry?!” He turns around to look at you, and he smiles brighter than you think you’ve ever seen.

You run into his arms. He picks you up and swings you around, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He stands there, just holding you as close as he can nestling his face into your neck, taking in a deep breath. He never thought he’d miss the smell of apples and cinnamon so much.

“What? How? I’m delighted, but confused.” You say looking at him.

“While I was talking to you this mornin’…Chris saw how upset I was and she changed my flight immediately. She knows her way around a camera, she covered for me today.”

“When did you get here?”

“Like thirty minutes ago. I’ve just been lookin’ around at everything you did. It’s amazing in here, you did such a great job.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him, you kiss him so hard you figure his lips will be bruised. He groans into you, and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. Your tongues collide, and you suck on his. God you missed the way the mint from his gum tasted. He starts walking you both towards the bedroom. Your lips detach as he sets you down, both trying to catch your breaths. He tugs at the hem of your shirt to lift it up overhead.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much.” He says pulling you close and sinking his teeth down into your neck. You moan out, and unhook your bra for him.

“I missed you too.” You say breathlessly.

His hands go right for your breasts, and he twists your nipple piercings. Your head falls back. He plasters wet, open mouthed kisses down your chest, and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking harshly.

“Ah, fuck.” Your hands reach for his pants. “Want you so bad, Harry.” You undo his belt and unzip his pants.

He shimmies them down his legs, and tugs your pants down as well. He takes his shirt off, grabs you, and practically throws you on the bed. You giggle and take your panties off, throwing them to the floor.

“I don’t even know what I wanna do first, I just want all of you.” He looks down at your body.

“You have me, do whatever you want.” You tilt his chin up so he’ll look at you. “I said you could annihilate me, remember?” You smile. “That is, if you did what I said. Were you a good boy while you were away?”

“Yes, very good. I’m about ready to fuckin’ explode.” He starts to spread your legs apart. “Did you hold up your end? Were you a good girl?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t easy. I was so lonely here all week.” You whimper as his thumb rubs over your clit lightly.

“You were?”

“Yes, wanted you every night.”

“And I bet it was even worse from the hormones?”

“It was torture.” You gasp when his fingers plunge inside you. Your head rolls back into the pillow, and your hand moves to his hair. “Oh my god, oh my god, fuck!” His fingers were already curling up inside you, rubbing against that special spot. His thumb rubs hard against your clit. “Fuck, Harry!” You come on his fingers.

“Jesus, don’t think you’ve ever reacted so quickly.” He smirks.

“Just felt so good.” He takes his fingers out and sucks on them.

“Missed the way you tasted.”

Your tongue peaks out of your mouth and he leans down to kiss you. You wrap your arms and legs around him. He slides his tip against your folds, just grinding against you.

“Please, Harry.”

“Can’t hear ya, love.”

“Please, for the love of god, put it in! Fuck me!”

Harry grins, and pushes inside of you. You both gasp at how tight and snug the fit is.

“Christ, a week without me and you…I mean…this is how it was when I first fingered you.” He bites down on your neck again and you arch up into him. “Feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes into your ear.

Your nails rake up his back as he starts to move. Your heels dig into the backs of his legs as he gets a rhythm going.

“You’re so big, Harry.” You say against his neck. “Love the way you fill me up.”

“Tell me you’ve never been fucked like this before.”

“I’ve never been fucked like this before. No one’s ever fucked me the way you do. I only ever want you inside me, forever.”

“Jesus, shit.” He pulls all the way out of you and flips you over. His ring clad hands squeeze your cheeks and you gasp. “Is this oaky? Can we do this?”

You look back at him over your shoulder, and grin.

“Wreck me, babe.”

His eyes grow wild. He grips your hips, and brings you up closer to him. You prop yourself onto your elbows. Harry lines himself up with your dripping center, and slowly slides in. The moan he makes is music to your ears, but you can’t help but clench tightly around him.

“Just me babe, you’re okay.” You relax slightly. He starts to move in and out of you slowly. “You have no idea how fuckin’ good this feels, and you looks beautiful from this angle.”

You moan in response and grip the blankets, your knuckles growing white. He keeps one hand on your hip and the other slides up your back. He desperately wanted to wrap his fist around your hair and pull you back to him, but he didn’t want to scare you.

“Doin’ alright?” He breathes harshly.

“Mhm.” You weren’t though. It felt really good, but you were struggling to stay in the moment.

He was hitting deep inside you. He lowers himself slightly, and reaches one of his hands around to rub your clit. You back your ass up against him.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He groans. You continue to grind back against him as he rubs your clit.

He fully lays on your back as he pumps in and out of you, making you collapse fully to the bed. The angle of his dick this was delicious and deep. You let out a loud moan, finally feeling like you could enjoy the position. You felt hot all over. Your orgasm was just around the corner.

“Harry, ngh, I’m gonna come. Holy shit! I’m gonna come!”

His release comes at the same time as yours. You weren’t sure what sound you let out, but you missed the way his hot come filled you up so much.

“Put your fingers in after you pull out.”

He does as you say and you arch up into him. He was still trying to catch his breath. You open your mouth for him and turn your head slightly to take his fingers into your mouth. You suck on his fingers and lap around them with your tongue. When you’re done, you roll over onto your back. You wipe your eyes. Your makeup got all fucked up.

“Were you okay?”

“Yeah.” You squeak.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“Yes, baby.” You push the hair that fell onto his forehead back.

“This room is huge.” He chuckles.

“I know! I put all our clothes away today. I’ve been loving the shower too, so much room.”

“Do you have plans tomorrow? Can we just stay here all day?”

“My only plans were picking you up from the airport.” You giggle. He turns your body towards his and squishes his nose to yours.

“Can I take ya out on a nice date tomorrow night? To make up for tonight?”

“You have nothing to make up for. Having you home a day early was the best surprise…but yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Good.” He kisses your lips lightly.

“Your gift was so lovely.”

“You looked through it?”

“Mhm, it was so sweet.”

“S’not all I got you.” He gets off the bed.

“Harry, we said no crazy gifts.” You sit up against the headboard.

“I know, it’s not crazy.” He rummages through his bag and takes out a long box. “Here.”

“Harry…”

“Just open it.” You open the box and smile. “Got you a proper chain for my ring.”

“I love it, thank you so much.” He leans down so you can kiss him.

“Do we have any food, I’m starvin’.”

“Let me make you something!” You switch the ring to the new chain. You gesture to have him help you clasp it. “Thanks. How’s it look?”

“Absolutely perfect.”

“Have you taken your pearls off?”

“Not once.” He smiles.

You get up and grab your robe out of the closet. You grab a brand new one out for him.

“What’s this?”

“Got you a robe of your own.” You giggle.

“I’m honored.” He puts it on, and follows you out to the kitchen.

“My mom said she wants to take us shopping for a proper dining room table.”

“She doesn’t have to do tha’.”

“I told her over and over, but she insisted.” You shrug. “What are you hungry for? I’ve got a salad made up, some leftover veggies and rice, some-“

“Veggies and rice, please.”

“You got it.”

You take the container out of the fridge and put some in a bowl for him to heat up. He wraps his arms around you from behind, and he nuzzles into the back of your neck.

“Mm, so cozy.” You coo.

“Missed ya so much, I can’t wait to cuddle all night.”

“Me too, baby.”

And you did. Harry kept his arms and legs wrapped around you all night. You slept pretty peacefully until you woke up drenched in sweat. He was fully on top of you, with his head on your chest, drool dripping down his chin. You sigh and try to turn over, but there’s no use. You chuckle softly to yourself and try to fall back asleep.

Harry didn’t let you leave the bed for nearly two hours when you first got up. He was like a ravenous animal. But you didn’t mind, you pretty hungry for him too. Distance truly makes the heart grow fonder. His stamina never ceased to amaze you. After another quick fuck in your giant shower, he gave you some time to yourself to get dressed.

He was in the kitchen making you some eggs when you came out in a sports bra and leggings. He plated them up for you, and put some toast on the side.

“Mm, thank you, I’m starving!”

“I’ll bet.” He smirks.

“Shut up.” You shovel the food into your mouth.

“Noticed some pictures and frames lyin’ around.”

“I didn’t want to hang anything up without you, baby. It’s not just my place it’s ours.” He smiles.

“After we eat we can hang some up, yeah?”

“Sounds good, and I left the heavy stuff alone like you said.”

“Good. I’m gonna bring a ton of my pictures up to the loft. Was thinkin’ of havin’ Niall over tomorrow so he could help me put my desk back together.”

“I can do that, I’m pretty handy.”

“Oh really?” He smirks.

“Yes, actually. My dad’s an electrician remember? He practically rebuilt our entire house. I helped him a lot. I know how to use a drill.”

“Okay then, will yeh help me with that today? I’d like to get all my shit up and runnin’.”

“Sure!” You kiss him on his cheek and clean up your plate.

Harry gets the tool box out and you start hanging up various pictures, a mixture of what you had hung up at both of your places. You kept some of the family photos in the hallways so they weren’t so “in your face”. There were a few you had printed of the two of you that you wanted hung up as well.

“Where do yeh want these, love?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be obnoxious with how cute we are…” He laughs.

“We could put them on the book shelves instead of hangin’ ‘em up.”

“Oh good idea. I wanna keep this one on my night table actually.” You snatch one of them and go into your bedroom to put it where you want. You come back out and see him placing the others in various spots.

“Ready to do my desk?”

“Yup!”

You help him carry up the pieces. Your desk was already up there and set up. It was the perfect space, and you enjoyed working up there.

“Can you hold the flashlight f’me, the screw holes on this thing are so fuckin’ dark.”

“Mhm.”

He gets under part of the desk with the screw driver and a few screws between his lips. You hold the flashlight for him how he asked. He gets the screws in, you loved watching him do this, you weren’t sure why. He stands up.

“There, didn’t need Niall at all.”

“Guess so.” He smirks. “Shall we break it in?”

“What?” You giggle.

“Let me bend ya over it.” He grabs at your hips.

“Little sore for that right now, you kept me pretty busy this morning.” He pouts his bottom lip out at you. “Oh stop it.” You swat an arm at him. “Let’s get your monitor and printer hooked up.”

“Fine.” He sighs.

You get him all set up, and move some of his equipment around so it looks nice and organized.

“Still plenty of room up here too.”

“I know! I was thinking when the holidays roll around we could decorate the staircase with lights and stuff, I think it would look really pretty.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He kisses the top of your head and you both go down the spiral staircase.

“Do you think every apartment here has a loft?”

“I don’t know, they could. Be really cool if they were all set up different.” He wraps his arms around you. “I appreciate you gettin’ so much done while I was gone. The place really looks great babe.” You lean up and kiss his nose.

“I was happy to do it.”

“I hope they don’t send me off like that again for a while. I had some fun while I was down there, but it would’ve been better with you.”

“You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your face into his chest. “Where you taking me tonight?”

“Somewhere really nice, way over the top.”

“Oh, Harry…I don’t wanna spend a lot of money.”

“You won’t be spendin’ a dime.” He pats your bum and goes to sit on the couch. He catches you rolling your eyes right as he sits down. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You sit down next to him, turning the TV on.

“Roll your eyes at me.” You turn your face slowly towards him. “Don’t do it?”

“Why? What are you gonna do about it? Spank me?” You scoff. His mouth forms into a straight line. “You’re a freak.” You shake your head and turn back to the TV. Your face snaps back to him.

“What?”

“You won’t spank our kids will you? I don’t believe in that.”

“Y/N…” He sighs. “How did your mind even just go there?”

“I don’t know!” You both start laughing hysterically.

“To answer your question, no I wouldn’t spank our kids. Only person gettin’ a spank to their ass in this house is you baby girl.” Your jaw drops.

“You need to stop.”

“Why?” He smirks.

“Why do you want to spank me so bad?”

“Love watchin’ that ass ripple.”

“Harry!” You smack him in the arm and get up.

“What?” He says laughing.

“I’m very self-conscious about my butt.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He gets up. “You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“But it’s so jiggly.” You pout.

“Yeah…it’s sexy.”

“Stop it.”

“It is! Love that I have somethin’ to hold onto.” You scrunch your face at him.

“Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You know you have a beautiful body, why are you gettin’ like this?”

“I’m not getting like anything.” You pout. “I just don’t like everything about my body…”

“Would you rather have a flat ass?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying…I don’t know. I have stretch marks and-“

“Y/N, please, I can’t listen to you talk about yourself like that.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I wouldn’t let anyone talk about you like that, including yourself. Just don’t.”

“I can’t help that I feel that way sometimes.”

“You take such good care of yourself, inside and out. You’re so beautiful, every part of you is beautiful, okay?” You nod reluctantly. “Thank you.” He kisses your forehead.

“I’m gonna go pick an outfit out.” He nods and lets you walk away.

Harry had been around women his whole life. There was plenty he understood, but the one thing he would never understand is how a woman’s mind could just flip a switch like that. One second you’re having fun banter, and the next you’re talking shit about yourself from simple comment he made. He had no idea you felt that way about yourself. He figured you just preferred the lights off most times because you were shy, not because you were self-conscious. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to go stand in the doorway of your bedroom.

You were standing in front of your closet pondering on what you might like to wear. It was a little colder out, and you weren’t sure you felt like a dress. You had a really nice pair of black dress pants that were slightly high waisted, so you pull those out and lay them on the bed. You turn and see Harry standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” You chuckle.

“Just makin’ sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” You look back at your closest and pull out a few tops that would work with the pants. “Think I’m gonna go for slacks tonight.”

“Anything you wear will be perfect.”

“Alright mooshball.” You shake your head at him. You pick up a long sleeve pastel blue crop top and decide that would look nice with the pants. There was a cute ruffle on the bottom so your skin would barely even be showing. “I’m gonna take some time to do my hair and makeup, okay?”

“Okay.”

Harry goes up to the loft to get a jump on his pictures form Florida. You shake your hair out and run your curler through it. You brush out the curls to get a nice wave. You put your clothes on and start to do your makeup. Harry comes down to get dressed himself. He didn’t see you because you were in the bathroom. He pulled out a white button up and a navy pair of dress pants. You come out of the bathroom and smile as he pulls up his pants.

“Handsome.” You coo. He turns to look at you.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks baby.”

“Love the way my ring looks on that chain.” You twist it between your fingers.

“Me too.” You slip your feet into a pair of one inch black heels. You knew they wouldn’t hurt your feet too much.

Harry tucks his pearls under the collar of his shirt and smile at the way the rest of the dangle. You were happy he was happy with them. He runs his hands through his hair a couple times and turns towards you.

“Shall we?”

“Mhm.”

He keeps his hand on your thigh the entire car ride. He takes you to a fancy French restaurant that you had heard of, but had never been to. You go inside and are seated right away. Harry must have made the reservation when he thought he was still going to be away. Harry has your favorite wine ordered to the table, and you clink your glasses once it’s poured.

“Happy six months, love.”

“Happy six months.” You both smile and take a sip. You lick your lips after. You end up ordering a bowl of creamy tomato soup and a salad. Harry ordered ratatouille.

“Soup and salad is really all you want?” He looks slightly disappointed.

“Yeah, I love cream of tomato soup. I got a whole bowl, I’m excited.” You take another sip of the wine.

The food was delicious. You couldn’t help the small moan you let out when you tasted the soup. Harry told you more about his trip, and what it was like to dive under water.

“Wish I could’ve seen you in the wet suit.” You giggle.

“There was no wet suit, I went in with a t-shirt and trunks on. They hooked me up with some air and I went under.”

“Is that safe?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Water was plenty warm for me.”

“I’m sure Julia enjoyed seeing you in a drenched t-shirt.”

“God, please, don’t say that.” He groans.

“Is everything going to be okay with her at work?”

“I think so. She sort of let me be the rest of the week. I think she was embarrassed.”

“Good, she should be. Trying to make a move on my man like that.” You take a bite of your salad.

“Didn’t seem too upset about it over the phone.” He smirks.

“I’m still not upset. I’m just saying, I’m glad you put her in her place. Hope it’s not weird for her next time I show up at the studio.”

“She’ll probably steer clear of you.” He gasps with excitement. “Maybe this means she’ll bother me less in general. Wouldn’t that be nice?” You laugh at him and shake your head. “I have to go to my old campus Wednesday night by the way.”

“For what?”

“Lou’s gonna pop the question to El.”

“That’s so exciting!”

“I’m going to hide somewhere to take pictures for them.”

“They both have the day off from work?”

“Guess so.” He shrugs.

“The day after that is Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t he just propose then?”

“Didn’t want it to be too corny.”

“I get that, it’s kind of tacky to propose on a holiday now that I think about it.”

“What makes it tacky?”

“I don’t know, if something went wrong the holiday would be tainted forever. You’re also sharing it with everyone else in the world. A day like that should be special and totally your own. Props to him.” Harry takes in everything you’re saying and makes a mental note.

You look over out the window in the restaurant and notice that it’s snowing. You grimace.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, I’m just done with winter I think. I’m counting down the days until I got to Aruba already.”

“Oh.”

“Booked my flight while you were gone, I got a really good deal. I managed to get on the same flight as my mom too. You’d be fine having her spend the night with us before right? We have a really early flight and since you and I live closer to the airport I thought she could stay with us.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. When do you leave?”

“Um, a couple days before Easter I think. Has your mom and sister said if they’re coming here or not?”

“Haven’t exactly had a chance to talk about it with them.” His jaw tenses and you notice immediately.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Just this whole vibe you’re giving off right now.” You gesture in his direction. “You’re allowed to leave for a week for a work thing, but I can’t go on a family trip?”

“I never said that.”

“Well, that’s how you’re acting.” You cross your arms.

“I’m not going to fight with you right now.”

“Who said we were fighting?”

“Y/N, cut the attitude, we’re in a restaurant.” You scoff at him.

“I’m not the one with the attitude, you are.”

“Don’t you think it would be nice for you and I to take a tip to some tropical island together?”

“Harry, of course I would love to do that with you, but my Nannie invited me to come on her annual trip, and I had a lot of fun last year. It’s really hard for her to go there by herself because her and my Papa went there together for like twenty years. She needs me there.” You feel tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Calm down, I never said you couldn’t go.” Your eyes widen with rage.

“As if I needed your permission.”

“S’not what I meant.” You roll your eyes at him. “Jesus, fuck, this was supposed to be a nice dinner.”

“And it is, the food is delicious.” He sighs heavily.

“I feel like I can never say anythin’ right sometimes.”

“You say a lot of things right, but I’m going to call you out of I notice something. I’ve known you long enough to pick up on when you’re mad about something.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah really. The second I saw your jaw tense.”

“It’s so cool how you put your communication degree to work like that. All that knowledge about nonverbal communication and shit.” He says facetiously.

“Alright, I’m done.” You say putting your fork down.

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“Please, get the check from the waiter.” You stand up and put your jacket on. “I’ve lost my appetite.” You reach into his jacket pocket and pull out his keys. “I’ll be in the car.” He grabs your wrist.

“Are you serious?”

“You wanna be a child and act up in a public place? I’m going to sit there and have you talk to me like that.” You yank your wrist free and walk out of the restaurant. You get into the passenger seat of the car and turn it on. You take a deep breath and wait for him. You truly didn’t understand him sometimes.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles angst fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #here you go!#hope it was worth the wait #cant wait to know what you think #i know some of you are going to be mad at me

271 notes · View notes

meowgetsproductive · 5 years

Text

Getting back on your feet. Resetting. Day 1

Technically it’s day 15 of my 365 challenge/new year resolutions. However, like most of you, I ran out of steam and flopped my resolutions.

Today marks a reset to day 1. I don’t see flopping as an excuse to give up the challenge. Maybe I can’t do it for the full 365 days in a row. But maybe I can do it for two days in a row, or ten, or a month. In any case, I hope to have figured it out by December.

The 365 challenge is:

Projects 1) Edit or write 1000 words a day (currently: M39 Novel) 2) Go to gym every 2nd day (current: pass fitness test) 3) Do one course exercise a day (current: Artist’s Way) 4) Progress 1 chore a day (current: renew passport)

Habits 5) write morning diary daily (emotions) 6) stretch daily (body) 7) Meditate daily (spirit)

I’m restarting this blog to share the journey with you. Why not restart your resolutions now? Or set some if you haven’t yet, for an exciting year of growth.

So, where I’m at right now, is I’ve just awoken from burnout.

I couldn’t string two words together, much less write heartfelt 1000 words of my novel. Yesterday, I had a trip to meet my boyfriend’s parents. Sitting in front of two well-meaning strangers, being asked simple questions like "what do you do?” had me in stumps.

The parents meant my profession but I was thinking about something much more mundane.

What was I doing day to day?

Burnout is a horrible thing. It robs you of inspiration, creativity, and creates an unfillable void in your chest. Nothing feels good enough, good enough to try. Nothing is exciting. I’ve been reading day after day, all day, trying to fill that emptiness in my soul.

That trip to see “the parents” made me look at myself as an outsider. I didn’t like what I saw.

What the hell was I doing with my life? It’s only been two weeks of the resolutions and I all but forgotten them! I have lost myself, letting entropy and the lack of energy dictate my life.

So today, the start of Day 1, I am restarting this blog and getting myself into gear. Gently.

I urge anyone starting out to treat yourself gently, like a new student. To get back on your feet you need encouragement, not harsh blows of criticism.

Today’s all about getting back to our feet. Gently.

I’m typing this blog as I go, because I need gentle encouragement. Baby steps.

First thing I’m gonna do is have breakfast. Luckily I have eggs in the fridge. I did say today marks the start of Day 1. Forget the resolutions for now. Even doing breakfast feels hard.

For breakfast, I made 2 eggs with leftover tofu and spinach from who knows how long ago, and packaged miso soup. I have miso soup every day, so it’s a typical breakfast for me. You shouldn’t try to make anything fancy. A jam on toast is fine. the point is to eat something that gives you energy to start the day. It’s hard to function when you’re low AND have no physical energy either. So we start with breakfast. I also made a banana smoothie in a blender to snack on as I go.

Next, I’m gonna tidy up my room. I live in a share house and my bedroom doubles up as my study and entertainment and library. I have piles of washing on my bed, plates on my table, pillows on the floor, random plastic bags of stuff that I barely remember dumping by the bed to be dealt with later. I have so much stuff that I can barely breathe. I need orderliness to think, and right now, my surroundings make me feel anxious and suffocated.

I’m not gonna clean up the whole place, that is too much effort. But I took the dishes and cups to the kitchen. I have put scattered books into stacks so they’re out of the way. I put all used tissues in the bin.The biggest eyesore are clothes. Seeing clothes on the floor makes me feel out of control. I have two baskets where I sort used clothes instead of just throwing them on the floor. I put exercise clothes in one basket under the bed, while lounge clothes went in the other. It didn’t take long. The one thing that did take time was folding the laundry. It took time but it was worth it for the sense of freedom of my room clothes-free. Just remember, we want to create a sense of peace and serenity, so that you can get on with your day. Maybe you don’t mind your clothes on the floor, maybe for you it’s cleaning up that really ugly stain that bugs you. Or that shutter making an infernal rattling noise that you couldn’t been bothered to fix. Get your peace of mind. Fix it.

I put on some nice music while I tidied. When I was done, I lighted a scented candle to cheer up the place with a nice scent. Maybe play a victory tune to celebrate if that’s your thing.

The tidying took up more energy than I was prepared, and I feel wiped out. I haven’t even started on my daily seven yet. I just feel like collapsing with a book and not getting up again.

Luckily for me, there is one item on my daily seven that invigorates me when I remember to do it. It’s number five, the diary.

Now my diary isn’t like a normal record of the day diary that most people use. My diary are the morning pages from Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. All I do is write out my worries. That’s when it works best. Sometimes I don’t know what’s bugging me and writing it long hand helps me figure it out. Sometimes I can’t think of a worry, then I write whatever is on my mind, stream-of-consciousness style. The point isn’t to list all your worries, but to let out of your chest whatever is gripping you. Sometimes it’s the excitement of a new idea, and I have written little scene sketches in the diary too. Dreams. To-dos. Battle plans before meeting The Parents. There is no wrong way to do the diary as long as you write whatever comes to mind, not stopping. “I don’t know what to write now...” is something I see too.

I did this diary for 2 pages of my large notebook, which is roughly 22 minutes. And that takes of item number five on my daily seven.

5) write morning diary daily (emotions)

I give myself a sticker for each of the seven that I complete. It cheers me up and brings a little bit of joy into my day.

In my morning pages diary, I realised that each of the items isn’t hard. The illusion of it is. It seems hard, but once you start doing, it’s actually not that hard to do the task in the moment. Stretching isn’t hard. Thinking about doing stretching, about how much time and energy it takes and that I’d have to get up and start moving and that I’ll never be flexible so what’s the use, is what keeps me stuck dead. The key is not succumbing to the illusion of difficulty, and just starting. Once I start, the task will take care of itself. 10 minutes meditation is nothing. But thinking about sitting there trying not to think and how my back always aches, is the enemy.

My advice is, start the thing. Don’t think about starting the thing. Start doing the thing. If it’s gym, get dressed and out the door. Start doing it. No debating allowed!

I’ll meditate next. Another thing that often remains undone, because it’s boring.

I find meditating boring.

Sitting without thoughts, experiencing time without beginning or end is very hard for me. I’m very good at imagining stuff, such as cleansing the chakras or directing energy in my mind. Sitting quietly with a silent mind, 10 minutes seem to go on on FOREVER.

All right, fine. Start. Not deliberate. I’m going.

I sat on a cushion and set alarm for ten minutes.

Ohh, it started off well enough. Then I got really restless. I started counting my breaths to 10, which really helped. Then after some time, my thoughts went wild. I was deciding which movie to watch tonight as my reward for doing so well, Dr Strange or Iron Man. Those are my favourite movies. Also I was thinking that I was gonna finish early today, and how early was early? At which point I realised I’ve had a pop song playing in my mind’s background for some time. Ugh.

Ten minutes felt long, but I lasted the whole time and now I feel so happy and proud of myself! I have done the meditation for today, item seven. Another sticker. Yay!

The benefits of meditation are numerous, but the benefits don’t kick in until several months in, same as gym. It took my brother 3 months of gym before he began to look great. I’ve just started gym and meditation myself on New Years Day, so it’ll take some time for my mind to center and my body to look great. Today’s a great day to start!

7) Meditate daily (spirit)

Well, I feel like I’m on a roll with my daily habits, so I’m feeling inspired to do the 10 min stretching. I’ve already done morning diary and meditation, stretching feels like a piece of cake! (See how small steps inspire more small steps? I’m all fired up!)

I put up some music, set the timer, and bam! Done. Three stickers today. The amount of bones I cracked was embarrassing.

Why do I resist stretching so much? Again, it takes time, even if it’s just 10 minutes. It’s boring, even if I put on music. Plus it hurts when I’m sore or I try the splits. Then why do it? Because doing something like a ten minute stretch helps keep flexibility and freedom of movement for life. Like all good things, the tangible benefits don’t kick in until later in life. (I’m beginning to see a pattern here).

6) stretch daily (body) Done!

That’s the Habits triad done. Yay for emotions/body/spirit!

Where’s the mind, you may ask? Well, the rest of the daily tasks are mind-heavy. Writing, gym, course exercise and chores tend to draw heavily on intellect. They make my brain flex.

Writing draws heavily on all areas.

Going to gym is as much a mental battle as physical exertion is.

By now, I’ve done the easy items on the list, the ones that take 10 minutes max. Doing it this way was semi-deliberate. I need easy wins right now to feel empowered. Attempting something like number one: writing, would be too overwhelming for me. Thanks to starting with the small items, I feel accomplished, I feel confident about getting more items done, I feel cheerful and I have what I feel like lots of energy (stretching could be at play for the energy boost).

Next, I feel like tackling the easiest item on the Projects list. Which is number four, the chore of passport renewal.

All I have to do for passport renewal is to load the official form onto USB and print it, get two passport photos, and go to post office to pay a fee and lodge the form and the photos.

The due date is tomorrow. I’ve been putting it off for a month.

The reason is, I am hesitant about taking that photo. I currently have long-ish hair at my boyfriend’s request, but I normally keep it short. I don’t want long hair in my passport photo. I have been procrastinating getting a haircut (and hurting my boyfriend’s feelings), yet I wasn’t comfortable taking a long-haired photo. That would be ten years staring at a photo that screams “not me”.

Some of you might be thinking “Gal, it’s your hair, you don’t have to do what your boyfriend says!”. I agree. This time, however, it’s not a bother to keep my hair long. I don’t care that it’s long right now (and I like that my boyfriend appreciates it), I just don’t want my hair long in my passport photo.

Alas, I’ve decided as I’m typing this this that I’ve left the decision for too long, and I’m worried about the paperwork expiring tomorrow if I don’t do something now. So, I’m gonna find that passport form and put it on USB, then fix myself for going out (long hair and all), and see if I can take the photo at the post office directly rather than getting someone to do it for me and then rushing to a printing shop last minute (for all of you who can print at home, I am jealous and I salute you!).

Finding an empty USB and loading the doc there took less than thirty seconds.

The getting ready didn’t take too long because I had met The Parents yesterday and so I was all clean. I wore the same clothes cuz I just needed to do the photo, not please people.

Doing well so far.

At the post office, the lady told me they don’t do printing. While they could do the photo, they can’t print my form to finalise the process.

I envy you, printer-owners.

I contacted a relative to see if I can use their printer, and also if they can do my photo. It would same me money if my relative could print the photo for free. They said okay.

Turns out the passport photo couldn’t be printed via inkjet printer. I only printed the form at the relative’s.

Then I drove back to post office, did the photo, and submitted the whole thing.

I’m so tired now. This recovery thing is hard.

Or maybe that’s cuz it’s early dinnertime and I haven’t had lunch yet.

4) Progress 1 chore a day (current: renew passport)

I’m gonna make some food next. It’s not dinner, not lunch, but something in-between.

I made a sandwich for that meal. Again, I wasn’t going for fancy, since I’m so low on energy.

While having lunch and talking to my brother, I have randomly uncovered an answer for a touch writing problem I’ve been having about some critique I’ve gotten. I was so inspired by this insight that I worked on the solution for about two hours, which resulted in about 2,500 words. That covers number one on the resolutions list, quite by accident.

I love when success begets more success.

1) Edit or write 1000 words a day (currently: M39 Novel)

Now it is late, and I’ve been sitting down for most of the day. Plus the gym rush has ended. A great time to head out to gym.

I didn’t stay long in the gym, only 40 minutes, 20 of which was walking on treadmill. Baby steps, remember?

2) Go to gym every 2nd day (current: pass fitness test)

By the time I got back and took a shower, it was 10pm. I still have one item not done.

This leaves only one item not yet attempted, and that is item two, the course exercise (for the Artist’s way). It takes only 5 min. I remember that all exercises for week 11 in the book are lengthy. I don’t think I can easily do any of them. So, I’m gonna do the trick I do for really difficult tasks, or tasks I’m really scared of.

I set a timer for 10 minutes.

In that time, I’m gonna read the exercises and see if I can do any today. If not, I’m going to pick one and write up a list of materials I’ll need, or do a search if the exercise asks me to contact people etc. Basically, I’m gonna spend the 10 minutes trying to progress something somewhere.

10 min. Go!

I could do one exercise. It was massive. I had to list 10 wishes in 7 areas of health, possessions, relationships etc... I only got through the heath, possessions and leisure in 10 minutes, and I thought I was coming up with wishes pretty fast. Those course exercises aren’t quick!

However it does accomplish my daily resolution of progressing a course exercise by a minimum of 10 minutes. Yay!

3) Do one course exercise a day (current: Artist’s Way)

This means I did all 7 resolutions! Hooray!

I gave myself a special sticker to celebrate!

But it did take me a full day, from breakfast to 10:30pm to do all seven, and I didn’t have any obligations today. If you have work or are looking after kids, then maybe try for one resolution a day. I definitely don’t want to be spending an entire day tomorrow doing just the resolutions. I’d like to do other things too. But today I wanted to start it easy and so I didn’t plan any other things so that I had plenty of time to do the resolutions.

I hope that once I’m more at the rolling stage, I can achieve all the resolutions in a single 3-4h evening. If you have a lot of resolutions and you’re struggling, do the math to figure out what is realistic. My resolutions take a total of 3 hours 20 minutes as a minimum (items 3 to 7 are ten 10minutes each, to a total of 50 min. Gym takes about an hour. Writing is variable, but 1 hour for 1,000 words sounds reasonable. Plus add a minimum of 5 minutes between each activity. Seven activities require six breaks, a total of 30 min). So, a theoretical 3 hour 20 minutes worth of tasks took me 12+ hours to do today. Again, be gentle with yourself.

What are your resolutions for today? I wish you success, good luck and good cheer!

Meowgetsproductive

#NewYearsResolution #life goals

2 notes · View notes

talkfastromance4 · 6 years

Text

More (c.h) Chapter One

This is something I’ve been working on for awhile, more or less for my own fantasy granting joyness. Not sure how many parts this will be yet.

Summary: Single dad Calum doesn’t want to leave his son, Kai while he goes on tour. A nanny accompanies them and Kai isn’t the only one who falls in love.

author’s note: this is sort of a rushed intro lol sorry

Masterlist

*****

Calum was a bit of stickler when it came to love, especially because the woman he thought he loved left him after having his baby and leaving him on his doorstep with a quick written note, I’m sorry. A tiny bundle wrapped in a blue blanket with his birth certificate with no name except for Calum’s. His son, who Calum named Kai, is a spitting image of Calum, no ounce of his mother at all. He didn’t even know she was pregnant when they broke up but his three best friends were more than helpful.

Kai was one now, and although Calum didn’t think he was the world’s most perfect dad, he loved his little boy more than anything. He was his number one priority but Crystal and Sierra noticed how lonely Calum was even before Kai appeared in his life.

“He’s not going to want to go on a date, you know how much Jane hurt him when she ended it,” Michael says while he and Crystal are having lunch with Luke and Sierra.

“But we know the perfect girl!” Sierra insists. “She’s sweet, funny and she works with kids. We’ve wanted to set her up with Cal since before he and Jane even started dating.”

“I don’t know, I don’t think he’d want to try it,” Luke shakes his head.

“Also, remember that Calum has sworn off love,” Michael adds.

“But he hasn’t met—“

“Babe, I love you but let sleeping lions lie,” Michael tells Crystal and both girls slump back in their seats in defeat.

“So, we’ll be leaving on tour in like a month and a half,” Ashton begins at a meeting to discuss the tour schedule amongst other things. “And Cal, I know you don’t want to leave Kai, so . . . do you have any solutions?”

“Mali suggested I hire a nanny,” Calum says looking over at Kai who was playing with Luke across the way. “Which doesn’t sound like that bad of an idea. We’ll be gone for nine months, no way am I going to leave him behind.”

“That seems like a good idea. Have you been looking into anyone?” Michael asks.

“I’ve been researching a few agencies,” Calum nods, “but I haven’t interviewed anyone yet.”

“Want one of us to do it with you?” Ashton cocks an eyebrow.

“That’d be helpful actually, make sure I’m picking the right person.”

“Let us know when you have an interview,” Ashton says then Kai begins to whine and squirm in Luke’s arms.

“Naptime,” Calum sighs lifting his son from Luke. “Hey buddy, let’s go relax, yeah?” Kai quiets down a little but is still fussing when Calum takes him into his room.

“A nanny is a great idea,” Luke says, “she’d be with Kai while we do shows and interviews and things.”

“Yeah, and he’d still be with Cal,” Ashton agrees.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Calum asked Ashton to interview the ladies that he found on a secure, background checked site. They already spoke with five of them but none of them have really stuck out to Calum.

“What about Kate? She seemed good,” Ashton says.

“She’s too proper. I want someone who will be fun but will follow Kai’s schedule and will vibe with all of us. This is hopeless,” Calum rubs his face with his hands. “If we don’t find someone then I’ll have to leave Kai with my mum and I don’t really want to do that.”

“I know, man, don’t worry. We’ll find someone. Next one is Holly Golde.”

Calum does a double take when he hears the door open and sees the woman walking in. She has frosty blond hair, small stature and the biggest blue eyes he’s ever seen. She was wearing all black with a long gold necklace and her smile was radiant. Wow.

“Hi, I’m Holly it’s so great to meet you,” she smiles holding out her hand.

“Ashton, nice to meet you,” he shakes her hand. “And this is Calum, the father of that handsome fella over there.”

Holly turns her gaze to where Ashton is pointing to see Kai playing on a blanket with his favorite toys.

“He’s adorable,” Holly smiles again.

“Thanks for coming, I’m Calum Hood,” Calum greets and shakes her hand as well. He notices how soft they are against his rough ones. All three of them sit down. “So, have you been a nanny before?”

“No, I haven’t, but I went to school for child care, I work in the nursery at my church every Sunday and I’m CPR certified. I know the hours will be abnormal but I’m willing to help out anyway that I can. I love kids, they’re the best thing in the world.”

“And you’re sure you’ll be fine traveling to different countries with us?”

“I’ll manage it no problem,” she nods affirmatively.

“Can I ask how old you are?” Ashton asks.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Holly,” Calum says and he likes how pretty it is, “We’ll be dealing with fans all over the world. Obviously if I’m not with you you’ll have security so that Kai doesn’t get bombarded with fans but will you be able to handle that? Being around all those people?”

“I’ll be honest, big crowds like that do frighten me a little bit but I promise you I won’t let anything bad happen to your son. I will make sure he’s safe and protected.”

“When—“

Just then Kai starts crying, all three of them turn their heads to see Kai has fallen backwards hitting his head on the floor that wasn’t covered by the blanket. His round face was pinched and red as tears flowed from his eyes. Calum stood up but Holly was faster and scooped him up in her arms.

“Hey there, baby, did you hit your head?” she holds him on her hip using her left hand to cradle his head. “I know it scared you more than anything, but that’s okay. Here, let’s go look for birdies outside, hm?” she walks him to the window and looks out of it, pointing and bouncing him gently in her arms. She’s talking in soothing tones to him and his cries turn to sniffles.

Calum has never seen Kai adjust to someone so instantaneously before, and be soothed that quickly from someone other than him and his friends. He saw his son’s small fingers clutch the fabric of Holly’s shirt as she continues to point outside which he does as well when he sees something.

Calum turns to look at Ashton whose eyebrows are raised in amazement and nods encouragingly. Holly was perfect.

“Holly, would you like to be our nanny?” Calum asks and she turns around. Kai is playing with a strand of her hair and smiles happily at his daddy.

“Really?!” her eyes widen happily.

“Yes,” Calum grins and pinches his son’s cheek. “I’ve never seen him be taken with someone so quickly before. You’re obviously qualified and . . . I have a good feeling about you. I trust you with him.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hood, I would love to.”

“Please, call me Calum,” he makes a face then laughs. “We’re the same age.”

“All right, Calum,” she laughs. “I accept the job. Thank you.”

“Our assistant is right through there, she’ll go over all the details and paperwork with you, make sure you have your passport and all that. But once that’s finished, we’ll be seeing you in a few weeks when we head to New York.”

“Sounds good, here you go,” she hands Kai to Calum. “I’ll head on back, and thank you again, this is an amazing opportunity.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Before leaving for tour, Holly began to nanny for Kai about a week after she got the job. She wanted to make sure she got the hang of Kai’s schedule, and that he would become even more comfortable with her. Calum hated how he wasn’t home that much with Kai since they released the new single from the album, but appreciated having Holly.

He’d come home and the house would be clean, a majority of Kai’s toys would be put away, the dish washer would be runnng quietly and after the first few days, the laundry was done as well. She was impeccable at her job and Calum is extremely happy he hired her. Kai absolutely adores her.

“Hi,” Holly greets with a smile and the laundry basket jutted on her hip. “Kai’s been in bed for about an hour.”

“That’s good,” Calum sighs emptying his pockets of his keys and phones on the countertop. “And thank you for . . . everything. Guess I’m still getting the hang of being a single dad.”

“It’s not a problem at all, and I think you’re doing fine.” She begins to fold Kai’s onesies and his burp rags.

“Thank you, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ll be coming on tour with us,” he shakes his head and picks up some laundry and begins to fold. “It’d kill me to leave Kai with my parents.”

“Can I ask you a personal question? Please don’t feel obligated to answer, but, what happened to Kai’s mom?”

Calum took his time folding Kai’s onesie that reads ‘Daddy’s little rockstar,’ a gift from Ashton.

“She and I were together for about a year and a half, then out of the blue she broke up with me. No explanation just that it was over. I didn’t handle it well, and then nine months later, she left him on my doorstep with a note saying “I’m sorry.” His birth certificate and full custody papers were with him and it’s been me and him ever since.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry she did that to you,” she holds his forearm in sincerity. “You had no idea she was pregnant when she broke up with you?”

“Not a clue. I don’t know if that’s why she broke up with me, thinking I wouldn’t step up or something which is ironic because she’s the one who left. I struggled a bit at first, I didn’t know the first thing about babies, especially having one of my own. So my parents and sister helped out a lot for the first few months, even the guys did too.”

“Well, Kai is a very lucky little boy to have you as a dad.”

Just then Kai’s cries come through the baby monitor, they turn to it then to each other. Holly places her last folded article of clothing on the couch to go get him but Calum stops her by holding onto her wrist.

“I got it, I haven’t seen him all day,” he smiles. She returns the smile and watches him head down the hallway to Kai’s room.

She continues to fold the laundry and hears Calum’s voice soothe his son through the monitor that’s sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey baby, Daddy’s got you, yeah? You’re all right.”

Holly moves to turn the monitor down but stops when she hears him say her name.

“You like Holly don’t you? I’m glad you’re comfortable with her . . . and she’s very pretty isn’t she?”

Holly’s hand freezes midway to the volume dial; did she hear him correctly? He thinks she’s pretty? He doesn’t say anything else after that and she continues folding the laundry until he comes out a few minutes later. She prayed desperately that her cheeks weren’t rosy.

“Is he okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, I think he might be getting his first tooth. That’s going to be fun on tour,” he heaves a big sigh.

“We’ll manage,” she assures him with a smile and because she says so, he believes they will.

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #single dad!cal #calum hood 5sos #calum 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin 5sos #michael cliffor #michael clifford icons #michael clifford 5sos #michael 5sos #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagin #luke hemmings 5sos #luke 5sos #luke hemmings imagines #luke imagine #5sos

126 notes · View notes

cozykhaos · 5 years

Text

A New Sun. Part 2

The day dragged as usual and it wasn’t until after lunch that I was summoned to the sixth floor, the executive offices. I took the elevator up, and it opened to a large open room. It was a whole different world up here. The flooring was dark gray concrete with sparkling inlays, a crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the room, there weren’t any windows, but an entire wall phased through scenes. Cherry blossoms in Japan, the mountains, the ocean. On and on it went, soft music playing in the background.

“Ma’am?” A brunette woman looked at me from behind a desk.

“Yes, sorry, that’s just really – “My voice trailed off as a scene of a crystal-clear lake appeared.

“Beautiful, right?”

“Very,” I bounced a little on the balls of my feet, nerves getting the best of me.

“Kit! In here please” Diane poked her head out of an office to my left. She disappeared, and the door shut once again.

The brunette frowned. “Go on in I guess.”

I entered the room, beside Diane was a handsome man I had never met before. He towered above me, even with his authority stance of his legs parted at shoulder length, arms crossed in front of him. He had a strong jaw that was shadowed with black stubble, he had a full head of thick black hair and deep brown eyes. His shirt, even though collared with a tie, was short sleeves and his olive skin glowed from being outside. I glanced over at Diane who had put on makeup today, her cheeks were rosy, lips cakey with too much lipstick. From where she was standing behind the man, she was clearly checking out his ass. Good for you Diane, good for you.

“Hi, Miss McKenzie my name is Thomas,” he flashed a smile of perfectly straight white teeth and extended his hand. I shook it and flashed a smile of my own. “Nice to meet you.”

He moved behind his desk and motioned for me to have a seat, Diane shifted nervously in her spot, still standing.

“Miss McKenzie, I know there was an issue yesterday with a –“ He paused and looked over the paper work. “Mr. Anthony Lynell, he called in and placed a complaint about you. Your first one since you started working here. That’s rather impressive.”

I didn’t respond, Thomas cleared his throat and continued. “I have reviewed the audio tapes of Mr. Lynell’s conversation with you and Miss Gould and have come to determine that he was the one out of line.”

I relaxed and handed out a folder that I had brought with me. “I did a little bit of research, in case this didn’t go well for Lauren and I. Mr. Lynell has a profile with us and the notes that have been documented are very concerning. He has been aggressive with numerous employees. Name calling, threats. He apparently tried to beat one of the service technicians with a cowboy boot. I’m surprised he hasn’t been brought to a supervisor’s attention before,” I handed over the folder and Thomas thumbed through it, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. Diane shifted in her still standing position, was that sweat I spotted on her upper lip?

“This is very good work Miss McKenzie. I’m going to make sure I reach out to Mr. Lynell myself and let him know we will no longer be doing any sort of work for him.”

“But-“ Diane started. Thomas raised a hand, silencing my boss, then leaned forward. “I have been reviewing your file with us Miss McKenzie, I’m very impressed. When you started here you were right out of high school and working in the warehouse. Where you came up with a new process on getting new service vans set up. Before it would take us weeks to get a new van out to the field. Your process changed that to matter of days. You were then sent to warranty where you climbed into a management position in just a year and you were going to college full time. That’s where you have been the last 4 years. Our customer service scores are the highest they have ever been, and we haven’t missed a 24-hour deadline in the time you’ve been there.” He leaned back in his chair. “How would you like to be our new Humane Resource Manager?”

“But Thomas –“Diane started but she was cut off by another raised hand.

“Diane, we are all done here, you may leave,” Thomas nodded towards the door. Diane stared at him, mouth hanging open. Finally, after a tense minute Thomas got up, placing his hand on her lower back he led her to the door.

“Sorry about that,” Thomas spoke as he sat back down. “You don’t have to say yes right away, I understand it’s a lot to drop on you,” he slid a packet of paper work my way. “Look it over and see what you think, get with me in the next couple of days, my extension is listed as your point of contact,” he flashed another smile.

“Wow, uhm thank you!” I finally managed to get out. “I will back to you.”

The smile stayed as he watched me, I wonder how long he could keep it plastered on his face. I shook his hand again another round of “nice to meet you,” and I was making my way back to elevator after a wave to the brunette. Once inside I leaned against the back wall and stared at the double doors, some part of me was screaming to take the elevator to the bottom floor and start running. But this was a huge opportunity, I called this job my big girl job, but the promotion was a full-on adult job. I flipped through the paper work finding the salary and let out a low whistle, I’d be making more than double my yearly income now. The doors opened to my floor and the thought hit me, I’d be stuck here.

I set myself on autopilot and finished out the rest of my day. As soon as I left the front doors, I dialed my dad.

“Hello Sunshine!” He greeted me.

“Hey dad,” I forced a smile onto my face, hoping it came through my voice.

“What’s wrong?” Apparently, the smile didn’t work. I explained to him what had happened over the last two days and the offer that was on the table. “That’s great news, why do you sound so bummed out?”

The smile cracked, and the tears welled up in my eyes. “I hate it their dad.”

“No no, don’t cry Sunshine,” he soothed. “It’s going to be alright, do you want to meet up for dinner and we can talk about it?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to go home and try to unwind and calm down. How about tomorrow?”

“What is tomorrow, Friday?”

“Friday.” I confirmed

“I’ll meet you at Cal’s at 6:30?” He asked.

“It’s a date!” We said our goodbyes as I opened the front door.

I started the tub and threw my work clothes into my laundry basket. I went back to the tub and dropped in a bath bomb. I had a pillow that was for the bath that I had received as a Christmas gift a few years ago. I had thrown it in my closet and forgotten about it. After looking under a pile of clothes, a few gift bags, and an old photo album, I found the pillow still in its original box.

“Hah!” I cried out in triumph, doing a little dance when my toe stubbed something. After a string of curses, I looked down at want had assaulted me, a memory box. My mother had given it to me when I had graduated high school, since then I have only pulled it out a handful of times to add something to its collection. I brought it into the bathroom and set it on the toilet seat, I quickly installed the pillow at the back of the tub then submerged myself. I pulled the lid off the box and started looking through the contents. A piece of petrified wood from a beach trip with my dad, a program from Lost in Yonkers that I saw last year. I kept riffling through, there was something in here that was calling out to me, finally I found it, my fingers tingling as I touched the envelope. A letter my grandfather had left me, sealed with a purple wax stamp. Fingers shaking, I opened the letter and read:

My darling Kit,

If you are reading this, you must be in dire need of change.

The same thing happened to me, long ago. I’d lost sight over what mattered most in life… real connections with other people and nature. So, I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

I’ve enclosed the deed to that place… My pride and joy: Eos Farm. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the Southern Coast, it’s a great place to start your new life.

This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you will honor the family name, my Sunshine. Good luck.

Love, Grandpa.

I don’t know when I started crying, but the tears fell freely, and my shoulders shook. I folded the letter back up and placed it in the box. I slid into the hot water a hiccup escaping. My mind raced a mile a minute, I submerged myself under the water, my long red hair spreading out around me. I held my breath for as long as I could, counting the seconds, 14, 15, 16 … 25, 26, 27, 28, finally my lungs couldn’t take it anymore and I popped back up.

I had gone to the Valley as a teenager, I hadn’t been happy about it at first. I wanted to spend time with my friends, going to the beach, having sleep overs, going shopping. But dad insisted, saying that it would be good for me. He wasn’t wrong.

I spent my summer with grandpa, learning about the farm. Waking up at 6am to start watering, pulling weeds, and chopping wood. I would spend my afternoons in town with a group of the other teenagers that I had made friends with. We spent out afternoons on the beach, Abbigail, one of the local girls I had met, with purple hair, kind eyes and a sunny smile, we would run down the pier, hand-in-hand, jumping, the ocean rising up to meet us., Sam, who’s hair was long and down to his shoulders, with too much energy and Sebastian, his black hair short, fingers always tapping against the side of his leg. There were other teenagers in town about our age, but it was usually the four of us. How long had it been since I talked to them? Abby had reached out to me numerous times over the years, but I always at work, or in the middle of a project for work. Eventually the text and phone calls stopped. In fact, they had stopped from all my friends. I went on facebook, scrolling through my timeline, they were still out there. Living their lives, finding that perfect work/life balance. While their lives continued, dating, getting married, having babies, going out on weekends, I was frozen in place. Frozen in Joja Corporation limbo.

Grabbing my phone off the side of the tub again I dialed my dad. He picked on the second ring. “Everything okay, Sunshine?”

“I’m moving to Stardew Valley.”

I went into work Friday and let them know I was leaving. I didn’t give an explanation, just handed in the note and walked out. It felt good walking out the front door of Joja for the last time. My dad was at my apartment when I got home, moving boxes at the ready. It took the majority of Friday and the weekend to sort out things. I had to call the Mayor, Lewis to let him know I was coming, the old man sounded excited and let me know things would be set up by Monday when I arrived. I got rid of my Joja Corp clothes which were all business casual, I wouldn’t be needing them on the farm. I brought my pots and pans, packed up my computer and consoles. A lot would be going to my dad’s house, the farm house was small. From what I remember there was only two rooms. The main room and the bathroom, the main room had a small kitchenette, fireplace, table and a bed.

I didn’t like the idea of downsizing and I refused to leave my computer desk behind, I would find a place for it. Early on Monday morning I handed over the keys to my dad, since I owned the apartment, we had decided we would rent it out. We stopped at McDonald’s to get breakfast on our way out of town, then spent the next 3 hours of the drive bantering back and forth about the farm. My grandfather had passed away just after I graduated high school and the farm had been abandoned ever since. Dad had decided to come with me, he knew there was going to be a lot of work to get done. Despite that he was only in his 50’s he had been retired for a while now. He had served his 20 years in the military and then retired, doing odd jobs around town as a handyman.

A smiling red head waved us down as we approached the bus stop. “Mayor Lewis sent me out here to welcome you while he finishes getting things ready.”

I smiled and opened the door, scooting over the middle, Robin pulled herself into the cab and shut the door. “Hey, Kit. Good to see you again sweetie!” She gave me an awkward one-armed hug. “It might be tough to get the truck in, I’m warning you now,” she said with a grimace.

“Robin! Thanks for meeting us. Is it that bad?” I looked at her. Robin scrunched up her nose and nodded. Oh boy.

No matter what Robin said, nothing could have prepared me for the state of the farm. We were jostled around in the cab of the truck as we bummed over fallen branches and stones.

Lewis existed the house, taking off his hat he waved at us.

“Holy shit,” I breathed out, earning a giggle from Robin.

“Sure, it is a bit overgrown, but there is some good soil underneath this mess!” Robin said as she hopped out of the truck. I caught my dad’s face out of the corner of my eye as he rounded the truck. It was the same as mine, mouth open, green eyes wide. “With a little dedication you’ll have it cleaned up in no time!”

“Kit!” Lewis walked over to us, making sure to step lightly on the groaning porch steps. He gathered me up in his arms giving me a hug. “It’s so good to see you again!” He held me at arm’s length.

“Hi Lewis,” I beamed up to him. “I’m glad to be back. Even though the circumstances kinda suck.”

He laughed. “They do kinda suck.”

My dad cleared his throat as he looked up at the house. “Very… rustic,” he chimed in.

“That’s one way to put it,” Robin snorted. “Crusty might be more appropriate.”

Mayor Lewis bristled. “Don’t listen to her! She’s just trying to get you to buy one of her house upgrades!” Robin glared at the old man and playfully slapped his arm. Lewis turned his attention to my dad. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

Dad shook his head. “I’m James, Kit’s dad. I dropped her off in the summer. But I usually just had her practice tucking and rolling then went on my merry way.”

Robin erupted into a fit of laughter.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. We should get going, you’ve probably already had a long day and will want to start unpacking.” Both started to go but Robin doubled back. Lewis hung out on the edges of the farm waiting for her.

“The kids wanted to come by today, I told them to wait until tomorrow. Figured you would be overwhelmed,” she waved before joining Lewis again.

Once it was just to two of us again, I finally looked out across the acres of land. It was a wasteland with broken branches, trees slouched over from past storms, the earth looking as if it had been chewed up and spit out.

“What have I done?” I sank down to the ground, dad sat next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“You haven’t done anything yet. We are just getting started.”

I looked at him and gave him a weak smile.

#stardew valley #sebastian stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian fan fic #stardew blogging #stardew valley fanfic #A New Sun

12 notes · View notes

dresupi · 5 years

Text

i don’t need therapy, i just need to vent

Darcy Lewis Crack Challenge | Day 3: Stuck in an air vent |

Summary:

Darcy's stuck in an air vent and ofc her ex is the one who comes to unstick her.

Darcy bit down on her bottom lip and released the green 'button' on her phone screen that would connect her to the communication app she'd designed for Wade.. It was a simple enough app, she'd made one for the Avengers too. X-Force just seemed to use it more.

This mission wasn't supposed to be this complicated. It was supposed to be a quick job. One and done. Break in, steal the intel, sneak out.

But of course, it didn't go that way, because the universe hated Darcy Lewis. Hate, hate, hate, capital H.

Okay, maybe it didn't hate her, but it certainly loved fucking up things that were supposed to be easy and then laughing at her while she scrambled.

She probably shouldn't have tried to do this alone. She was technically a field agent, but mostly, everyone wanted her for tech. And the intel she'd stolen was about that. But field agenting was something she was still green at. But Cable had needed the intel, and everyone else glazed over when she started talking about dismantling the firewall, so. Here she was.

"What is it, Monkey?" Wade's voice responded.

"Wade," she replied.

"Use our code names, dearheart."

"WADE. This is a private channel. No one's hacking in, I promise."

"Still not right, but I can tell by your tone that things aren't exactly peachy keen, so I'll let that slide. My code name is Rainbow Smash, in case you forgot."

She hadn't. But he was right about the' no time' thing. "Look. I got the intel Cable asked for. That part was easy."

"Okay, I sense a but in the future. Or a, however. Probably a but."

"It's a but. These idiots came back from wherever the hell they were and now I'm stuck in this vent because if I shimmy out the way I came in, I'll not only alert everyone in this building with the resulting rumble, I'll probably get mowed down by assault rifles before I can even squeeze out of the vent."

"Where are you now?"

She looked around, her surroundings not helping in the slightest, so she pressed against the smartwatch on her wrist, swiping through all the screens until she found the infrared map. "Directly above the barracks. No one's there currently, but they will be in a few hours. And the longer I stay put, the more likely this vent will give way and I'll fall into AIM barracks on my ass."

"Damn those AIM bastards for needing a tight ten and a half every night…" Wade muttered. "Listen. We'll get you out. Just sit tight. I'll send someone in to get you."

"Right. Because another person in the vents is what we need."

"Look, you can't go crawling over their heads and risking them hearing you unless we got a clear shot out. Plus. Two is better than one."

"Only if one of the two is Cable," she countered.

"Noted."

"So you're sending Cable?

"Did I not say noted?" he asked.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Yes. But that doesn't always mean you're doing what I asked."

"I will do what's best for you, Monkey."

She sighed. "Give me an approximate wait time."

"Seven minutes."

"Okay. I'll chill for seven, and if no one's here, I'm calling you back."

"I'd expect nothing less."

She exhaled and lay her head down on her folded arms and started to count four hundred and twenty Mississippis.

Approximately three-hundred-ninety Mississippis later

"Incoming, Monkey," Wade's voice rang in her ear.

"Cable?" she asked hopefully.

"Nah. But I got you the next best thing."

She raised her head off her folded arms, watching as a very familiar face crawled around the corner in the vents. But it wasn't Cable.

"Axel!" she exclaimed, frowning as her ex continued army crawling towards her.

She got back on her comm. "Wade. WADE! I asked for Cable."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Axel replied, his voice on a slight delay in her ear as well.

"Why are you on my comm when you're right there?" she asked.

"Oh right. I kind of have everyone on the same channel. Or Bedlam did. I don't have admin access anymore," Wade replied.

She would facepalm, but she was kind of in an air vent, so she sighed heavily. "Who else is here?"

"Hiya Darce!" came Domino's bright greeting. "Cable's also here, but he's not talking. Typical."

"I would if I had something to say," was his terse reply. "Shatterstar's here too, pick on him instead."

"Only in spirit, I couldn't fit in Doppinder's cab," was the curt response.

She pressed her lips together in frustration. "Wade. I asked specifically for Cable."

"Zeitgeist is the next best thing."

Hardly. She turned her gaze to Axel's. She almost couldn't look at him. Pain bloomed right over her heart and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. This wasn't funny. This was raw and painful and the worst timing of ever for her to have to face him again.

"I don't mean to be rude," she began.

"Cable couldn't fit through the vents, so I'm here," Axel said sharply. "I'm pulling you out because I don't want you to get shot to pieces. Can we please put our personal shit to the side for the next half hour?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, embarrassed to be so perfectly called out for all the right reasons. This was work. Not some awkward night at Sister Margaret's where they caught each others' eyes and slunk to opposite tables, Darcy taking Cable and Domino, mostly because Cable was already sitting across the room from everyone else.

"Awesome," Axel said with a cool smirk.

"Aww, you guys…" Wade cooed on the comm. Both Darcy and Axel chose to ignore him, as did everyone else in the comm group chat

Axe switched to business mode immediately. Which Darcy was still in charge of her brain enough to admit was totally hot. "Follow me around the corner and they'll pull my cord, yank us both out slowly."

"How did they not hear you?" she asked.

"I crawled in over the laundry room. There was a load in the dryer so they couldn't hear me crawling. Won't have that luxury on the way back, so it's good they're dragging us." He shot her a quick smile that faded immediately. Almost like he'd forgotten for a second that they weren't in flirty banter mode.

"Heya Darce. Bedlam here…" The lower voice immediately shocked her until she remembered that they were all here. All of X-Force. Why Bedlam hadn't piped in during her impromptu roll call, she didn't know.

"Sure, what is it, B?" she asked, slowly moving around the corner.

"I'm out here on the roof with the pulley. Just letting you know that we gotta drag you slowly so the cord we attached to Axe won't snap."

"I'm not that heavy, am I?" Darcy joked.

"What? No! Not in the slightest, but this is a different sort of weight than it's used to. Just wanted to let ya know… … You're not big. You're not. Not what I meant."

Axel snickered a little, stopping when Darcy shot him a look. "What? You're not."

"It's fine, let's just get a move on, okay?" she replied.

A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as she followed Axel around the corner. It was an awkward squeeze, but she finally made it.

"Okay. grab my hands," Axel said, holding both out in front of him.

"Just making sure, but… you're feeling alright, aren't you? You're not hungover, or nauseated, or claustrophobic or anything, are you?"

He shot her a look. "If I was, I wouldn't be doing this," he said. His tone taking on a much softer tone that called back to something Darcy wasn't ready to revisit just yet. The break up was too fresh.

She simply nodded tersely and held out both arms towards him. He gripped her gloved hands tightly

"We're ready," he said.

Slowly, they began to inch forward. Backward for Axel, but down the vent, regardless.

Bedlam had been right. It was slow. Achingly slow.

"D, you alright, baby?" Bedlam's voice came into her comm and she nodded before stopping herself and actually replying out loud.

"Doing fine. I don't weigh too much for the cord, do I?" she teased, even though her heart wasn't in it, what with being dragged slowly through the vent by her ex and all.

"Darcy… you know that's not what I meant. You're a good healthy weight." He paused before continuing, "We'll have both of ya outta there soon."

"Umm…" A decidedly more timid voice joined in. "Is there any way I can mute you guys?"

Axel frowned, tilting his head as he tried to recognize the voice. "Peter?"

Darcy groaned in protest. "Wade. Is Peter with you guys?" He had to stop bringing him to dangerous places like this.

"No, actually…" Wade replied.

"I'm at my nephew's bar mitzvah," Peter replied.

"Why do you have your comm with you?" Bedlam asked, sounding slightly perturbed.

"Well. After Darcy set it up for me, I didn't want to mess it up, so it just… pairs to my headset automatically…"

"Well, just unpair your headset," Darcy said. This was actually something she knew how to fix. "It should send the call back to the app on your phone, and you can disconnect."

"Oh great. Thank you!" Peter sounded relieved, so they all waited a few moments, Axe and herself slowly inching down the vent the whole while. A snail was probably faster.

"Uh oh…" Peter's voice sounded distinctly more echo-y. As did the background noise. Which very quickly became numerous groans of anguish.

"What is uh-oh?" Darcy asked.

"I might have… sent the group chat to the DJ's Bluetooth speakers…"

"Disconnect from the speakers," Darcy exclaimed. "Peter. Just disconnect from--"

At that moment, she and Axe stopped moving. Since they weren't moving fast to begin with, it wasn't jarring, but he grunted out a sound that vaguely registered to her as pain, so she abruptly snapped her attention to him.

"I'm caught on something," he said. "Stop pulling." He released her hands and slipped his arm down his side, rummaging around before ceasing all movement entirely. He exhaled loudly. "Shit."

"Language!" Peter chastised. "You're still on the DJ's Bluetooth… I'm so sorry, these are my coworkers… that last part was for the bar mitzvah guests," he explained. "But really, if you could all watch your language."

"We're kind of in deep doo-doo, here, Peter," Darcy hissed.

"Thank you. Just like that. Thanks, Darcy."

"For the love of--"

"It's my tact belt," Axel concluded, looking back at Darcy. "Something's snagged."

"Great. Take off the belt and we'll go," she said.

"Not that easy, I can't fit it through the loops with everything attached to it. I also can't reach where I'm snagged, so…"

She sighed. "So I need to? Is that what you're so eloquently refusing to ask me?"

He made some sort of movement that was probably supposed to be a shrug. "Well yes. I can't quite bend that way. You're smaller."

"You are," Bedlam piped in, happy to finally be able to save his ass from his combined weight statement before. "You're so much smaller and--"

"Shut it, both of you. Left or right?" she asked, nodding once when Axel jutted his head to the left.

Darcy let go of his hands, inching forward until she could hook her chin over his shoulder and reach down to where he was snagged. She couldn't see what she was doing, but she could definitely smell his cologne and aftershave and laundry detergent. It made her eyes water, but not in a 'jesus-christ-stop-wearing-so-much-product' kind of way. It was more of a triggered memory kind of thing, and she didn't like this in the slightest.

"Okay, I think I found where to unpair the speakers," Peter said.

"Glory be," she deadpanned. "I was waiting with bated breath."

She felt Axel snicker a little, but she didn't really want to think about him at all. She just wanted this to be over. And the sooner she could swear again, the better.

"Uh-oh. Again…" Peter lamented.

"What now?" Axel asked.

"Instead of unpairing, I think I hit the stream button. Now we've got video streaming on the digital projector on the stage…" Peter replied.

"Video of what, exactly?" Darcy asked.

"Zeitgeist's helmet has a cam on it," was Bedlam's response.

"So you're seeing what Axe is seeing?" Darcy asked. "Which is what? Dark tunnel?"

"Well, considering my head is on your shoulder, I'm looking down your backside…" Axel said.

"Turn your head immediately!" Darcy said, sliding her hand around to finally unhook whatever it was from his tact belt.

"I wasn't doing it on purpose," Axel said softly. "Promise."

"I don't care if you see it. This is just work, right?"

"Right," he said with a short nod.

"But Peter's nephew's bar mitzvah doesn't need to see it. Peter, turn off your phone and leave it off until you leave again."

"I'm so sorry, Darcy," Peter sounded sincere. He always did, but she couldn't be anything but terse right now.

"I know, babe. Just… turn it off completely, should unlink you from everything."

"Peter has left the chat," a robotic voice informed everyone.

She slid the items out of Axel's tact belt and into her hand. She scooted back and handed them to him. It looked like ninja stars, but knowing Axe, it was likely some kind of poisonous lethal weapon of some kind. Or else it was food disguised as a weapon. "Here. Put that somewhere else."

Waiting for them to start getting tugged again, she reached for his hands as they began to gently move down the vent once more.

Darcy avoided Axel's gaze until they reached the end and he slid out the vent and got out of her way. They were at the opposite end of the roof. There was a small drop, but nothing she couldn't handle if she was flipped around.

Which she wasn't, so she waffled, frowning a little until Axel reached up and plucked her from the vent and into his brief, but lingering embrace.

Bedlam was there, unhooking his cord/pulley system from Axel and the outside of the vent. He snapped the whole thing back into a small box and gestured to the side of the building. "We'll have to rappel down the side of the building there. Doppinder's got his cab waiting out front.

"Are you kidding? He's just idling out there? I thought he dropped everyone off!"

"The others are with him. Cable and Domino. Wade."

"So Domino's keeping everyone safe and Wade and Cable are just…" she trailed off.

"Superfluous, yes," replied Bedlam.

"Well, if Domino's there. It's a shame y'all didn't think to send her into the vent," Darcy joked. "She would have fit and maybe some of her luck would have rubbed off."

Bedlam shifted awkwardly, glanced over at Axel, and gestured to the side of the roof. "I'll set in the grappling hooks. T-minus two minutes."

Darcy watched him leave, frowning a little. "That was weird. I guess he's in a hurry?" she said, taking a step towards him, but stopping because Axel had grabbed her hand.

"Look, I might as well tell you. I volunteered to go in after you."

She frowned. "Why? It would have been easier if--"

"You know I'm a control freak. I wanted to know first hand that you were alright. I couldn't have just… sat down there in the cab and listened. Wade had to send me."

"I would have been fine--"

"I wanted to save you, okay?"

"You didn't save me. You assisted me."

He smirked. "Fine. I wanted to assist you…" He trailed off. "Long story short, I want to be the one you call when you need help, okay?"

"You kind of lost that perk when we decided I couldn't call you for anything else."

"We nothing. You decided that."

"Bull. You're the one who said you were dangerous," she countered. "Too dangerous, if I recall. That whole bullshit superhero excuse that is so old it should be called the Steve Rogers."

"I know what I said. I regret it and I'm sorry. But you were the one who ended things."

"Because you kept Steve Rogering me into non-committal booty-call purgatory! Do you know how many nights of sleep I've lost over you?"

"No, tell me. I'll make up for each one." He raised his eyebrows a little, his tone monotonous and droning.

She laughed. "Ass. You know I don't lose sleep for anything."

"But I understand the sentiment. I'm sorry if being my non-committed booty-call made you feel anything less than wonderful."

"This past month's been a whole lot less than wonderful, Axe."

"Look, I know. It's been hell for me too. I want to do this the right way. I want to be the one you call for everything. Doesn't matter what. You made too many cookies? Call me. You're lonely and you don't want to fall asleep alone, call me."

"What if I need tampons?"

"Call me," he said, chuckling a little.

"Um. Hi. Ms. Lewis? Mr… Geist? Just letting you know, you were talking way longer than two minutes," Doppinder said over the comm. "Not to interrupt, but the meter is running…"

"Oh my god," Darcy reached into her pocket, scrambling to disconnect from the app on her phone. Axel did the same, but everyone had already heard. "Doppinder's on the comm?"

"He's why Wade doesn't have admin privileges anymore," explained Axel. They both turned and ran towards a very impatient Bedlam.

They all three rappelled down the side of the building and made a break for Doppinder's cab. Slipping into the backseat, Axel squeezed between Bedlam and Cable. Darcy hopped into Domino's lap, her legs stretched out over everyone else's.

Wade reached for the handle beside his head as Doppinder peeled out and turned around.

Domino glanced over at Axel after a long quiet moment. "Will you pick up tampons for me, too?"

Axel shrugged. "Text me a picture, so I know which ones to get."

Darcy's mouth quirked up a little. She was so gonna kiss his brains out later.

Wait. She didn't have to be so PG, she could swear again...

Eh. You know what I mean.

#AcidTaser #Darcy Lewis #Zeitgeist #Darcy/Zeitgeist #dlaf2019 #Crack Challenge

21 notes · View notes

eerythingisshaka · 6 years

Text

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others Pt. 1

(So That’s All You, Huh?)

Part 2 *Part 3*

M’Baku x Reader

Word Count : 3.6K

Warnings: Rudeness, couple of curse words, snippets of smut

Plot: You and M’Baku have to be apart for a business trip you are taking. Leaving him sucks for you both, but career is important and he supports. But the trip is a lot more than a test of your value to your job, but to your relationship as well.

Beep Beep Beep.

Your alarm has a jarring sound that jerks you from your sweet slumber. Blurry eyed, you reach forward push your home button to silence it. Arm hanging over the side of the bed, you lay with your eyes closed just for a moment but you know that is too much temptation that could cost you getting to work on time. The oil diffuser purrs in the background as it pumps lemongrass and peppermint in the air, your favorite combo. You feel his arm come around, hand resting on your belly to pull you back against him. M’Baku growls lazily playing sleep.

“Mm-mm. You need to turn me loose, now. I have laid long enough.” You say, only half convincingly.

M’Baku smacks his lips exaggeratedly, “You haven’t taken a sick day from that place all year, you can call it today if you wanted.”

Holding his hand on your tummy, you argue, “First of all, I am still trying to make a good impression. Second of all, I have to catch a flight today. Did you forget this was my business trip week?”

He groans out loud, “Are you joking? When did you tell me about this?”

You turn, laying on your back, counting on your fingers, “I told you when I was first offered the opportunity a month ago, I told you every week before now, and last night.”

M’Baku props himself up on his arm looking down at you, “That’s not fair, I don’t remember any talk last night, are you sure?”

You sigh, “Yes, I am. Between the netflix, the wine, I told you. Then you started getting sad, quoting Titanic and kissing my neck, and after that if you forgot, well then I am insulted.”

He gives you that awesome chortle of his, “No, my darling, I remember that quite well. I was just hoping I’d wake up and the week would be over already. I don’t know what I’d do with myself.” His eyes twinkle a little as he says this, you feel his sadness heavily as you hold his face.

“I feel the same way and then some. But this will help get me a good track record within the company, leading up to a promotion, raise, all of that. I don’t want to be under someone’s thumb forever. Once I can lead my own way without oversight, I’ll be so good. It starts with this.”

He takes your hand and kisses the palm of it, groaning against it his bass tickles you, “I always admired your work ethic. Your strength is my motivation to go on, along with your beauty.” He looks down your body, snaking his hand from your knee, up your thigh, then gently caressing your tummy, “What time do you leave?”

You take a deep breath, controlling the pulse of your center. Turning towards him, you pick the sleep out of his eyes. “My flight is at 11am. I have about 5 hours to get ready, double check my packing, and make my way…” your voice says huskily as it trails off as your eyes travel with your hands over his sturdy shoulders, sheen with his natural oils.

M’Baku tucks his lips, mounting over you on cue with surprisingly acrobatic fashion, “I can work with that, my doll. If your schedule permits?”

You snatch your bonnet off, heat getting too overwhelming, “Mm, you ain’t said nothing but a word, M’Bop.”

You always get yourself in a position of not having packed enough in advanced. Everyday , you tried to set aside a couple outfits, narrow down your shoe choices, put your travel toiletries in the bag and STILL you forget things, and change your mind on others. You sniff the air, smells like breakfast is about done and just in time as you were as well. You put your tote over your shoulder, roll your bag out and drag it down the steps, one clunk at a time. You hear thudding footsteps coming towards you, as he rounds the corner up the stairs.

“(Y/N), why are you putting more stress on yourself? Why didn’t you call your man, huh?” M’Baku kisses your cheek as he picks up the bag like it’s a disobedient child, over his shoulder and effortlessly downstairs.

You smile to yourself, thanking him. “I won’t be able to call on you to help me once I’m there, so I might as well get used to it.”

M’Baku at the stove, he plates the veggie omelettes, “You will not get used to that. This is a temporary business thing, so don’t get comfortable with this single independence. You still have a man at home waiting for you, understand?” He coos, setting the plates down on the table spread of toast, butter and jam, fresh fruit, orange juice for him, apple for you. He pulls the seat out for you, pecking your neck gently as you sit before making his way to his side to sit. A mix of excitement and sadness overcomes you as you think about how compassionate your partner is. This isn’t the first meal he has cooked for you by far, but he had time to clock your box AND cook before your trip? He is too good, beyond words.

You pick up your fork, taking a couple bites, “Mm, I know I won’t get this good of food on the road. What you gonna do while I’m gone?”

He takes a deep breath as he chews as big as his jaw is able without actually opening his mouth. “I might have some of the guys over sometime. Redecorate maybe. Bring back my bear rug for old times sake.”

You clink your fork down, folding your hands in front of your face, “I told you to toss that thing out, M’Baku. And the other Jabari better not be up in here to mess up my couch, touch my food, and you are cleaning the guest bathroom when all is said and done. Go over their house with all that!” You say with an annoyed wave of your hand.

“My, my, my love. Has travel plans got you on edge?” He reaches his hand over, you lay yours in it; warm and rough, but gentle in pressure as he rubs the back of yours. “My people know how to respect my home. You saw them in their own habitat, of course they are foolish then. But don’t worry about our abode, it will remain in tact. Unlike my heart, that is aching at the thought of you leaving. No amount of company could fill that void, I just hoped it would serve as an adequate distraction.”

Your face falls with his in that moment. Getting up, you walk over to him and sit onto his tempurpedic thighs. Caressing his beard, you study his face. His big brown eyes that pull you in like Narcissus, he looks at you heavy lidded. “I have half a mind to keep accepting these trips if it gives me this much favor from my man.” you say in jest.

He squeezes your sides, causing you to fold over in ticklish agony, “You know what happens when you provoke a Jabari, huh? I won’t hold back, and I’ll be forced to put down my staff to remind you what you need to come back home for.”

Between giggles you say, “Your staff, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now, M’Bop? It’s just as much mine as it is yours now, I won’t be intimidated.” He gives a belly laugh as he rests against your bosom, holding your bottom and thighs while you clutch his head under your chin.

“Your heartbeat is my favorite lullaby.” He moans into your chest.

M’Baku is a towering man in height and stature, but he is a kitten when it comes to you.

You get a notification bell on your phone, indicating your ride is waiting. M’Baku lets out a whine that sounds like chewbacca.

“It's time baby, let me up,” You give him a pat on his back as he slowly unravels from around you. You head out the door as he carries your bag, loading it into the backseat.

“You seem heavily packed for a few days by the way.” He looks at your curiously, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“I need options M’Bop. Plus that's just plenty more laundry for you to do for me when I'm back. I know you looove it.” you say teasingly, getting in his face.

“You think you have me domesticated, that's adorable. Let me find out you're spreading these lies in the streets, you won't handle my fury.” He warns, wagging a finger at you.

You playfully whack it away, reaching around his neck. He grabs around your waist, holding you tightly against him. You looked from his bright, round eyes to his smooth, beckoning lips. Controlled by an invisible force, you both lean towards each other until your mouths are intertwined. Soon as M’baku begins to open his mouth against yours, his hands gravitate toward your ass, slowly squeezing…

HONK HONK

The driver has gotten impatient with waiting or sick of the PDA. You don't blame them either way. You still have to snap M’Baku out of it as he continues to lean with his lips puckered, like a Looney tunes cartoon. Opening the door for you, you step inside as he leans on the door over you.

“Call when you've landed and settled. Work hard though; don't let me be a distraction.”

“I will, love. Leaving me with that kiss, all I'll be thinking about is you.”

M’Baku smiles broadly, “and so it should be. No goodbyes, just know I will see you soon.”

“See you soon. Love you, M’Bop.”

“All my love, (Y/N).”

The driver pulls off as you look back at M’Baku, waving, slowly getting tinier and out of sight. You turn away and start to look for your headphones to listen to a podcast, anything to keep the tears from spilling out of your eyes. It's only a week, stop acting silly, you gas yourself.

“Woooowee! So that's all you, huh?”

You look at the rearview mirror at the driver. She had to be bout 50 sum, has large gold hoops with words in the middle that you can't make out, a red trucker hat that says “America was never great”, smacking on some gum.

You say a little shyly, “Yeah, that's all me alright.”

“Oooh, GIRL! I would burn the midnight oil for him in the middle of the afternoon, I tell you! What’s his name? I’m sorry if I’m being nosy.”

She sure the hell was, “No biggie. M’Baku is his name.”

“Aw nah, girl. You got you a African?? I'm surprised he ain't wheel you out in a chair. Honey no wonder he looking better than fresh baked manna from heaven. You been with him a while?”

She worst than your aunties when they first met him, “Yeah a little over three years.”

“Good, hold tight to that. You know how many ladies I pick up and they man is watching them while they load up? And they had waaaay more stuff than you got there. Gentlemen are hard to find, and in an exotic negro, THAT fine?? Biiiitch, excuse my language, i don't mean you, but biiiiitch, I wouldn't be driving right now if that was at my house.”

You laugh at her antics, co-signing with the usual sister-to-sister phrases. It was a good distraction to draw you out of your funk for the week ahead -- at least for now.

Finally, you arrive to the airport, checking your bag, and popping a seat that was miraculous to find in the crowded waiting area. Headphones in to drown out the tired toddlers that are weighing down their parent’s patience, you look through your social feeds. A notification pops up, it’s him.

You open up the message, it’s a picture of the kitchen and underneath it says, ‘I don’t appreciate the amount of dishes you left me to clean up after you :P’

You cover your face, laughing to yourself. This guy, you think. Texting back, you tell him, ‘Thank you, love. It was delicious. I promise I’ll make it up to you later ;) ’

Then you get the call that it is time to board. Your phone goes off again and it says, ‘Well I hope I will get a preview later…….’

You stop there, biting your lip. You guys have never done anything long distance before, maybe a little electronic play could happen between you all. You decide to leave him on read; sure you were busy boarding, but also, you want him to be real ready to hear from you again later.

The flight was only a couple hours, but it was dreadful. The babies would not quit crying, the flight attendant skipped you for a drink order, and the person next to you could NOT stop getting up for the bathroom to save their life. When the plane began descending, it was an answer to your prayers.

Heading to baggage claim, you check your phone, more out of habit than anything, nothing new, but a change in the song playing in your earbuds. You wanted to wait until you were in your hotel room before you texted him that you made it. Standing by the conveyor belt, you watch all the bags loop around; more added, some taken, until the bags become more scarce and the crowd around you is almost dispersed completely.

Suddenly you feel a sense of dread, you walk, not seeing any more bags being added through the drop-down. This can’t be it, you think. You were standing there the whole time, how could you miss it?

There are some bags in the middle of the floor, but none of them are yours. You look around for the customer service area, when all of a sudden, you see it. Some woman has it, walking away with her family that has one of them screaming babies. Your heartbeat is hella elevated, but you try to keep a cool script in your head as you jog over to her.

“Ma’am…..Ma’am!” you yell.

The woman has her phone to her ear, yelling at her child to stop running and stay with her until her father comes. You tap her on her shoulder, making the woman spin with a speed you almost missed if you blinked.

“The hell you want?!” She says with all due disrespect.

“Sorry, but my b-”

“Nah, mom I ain’t talking to you. This little girl tryna say somthin to me.”

Little girl? You think to yourself, but letting it slide as to not waste time, you continue, “You have my b-”

“Mama, I know, but she don’t look like a sex pimp or nothin. ��I wouldn’t get caught up in that I ain’t dumb, ‘specially with my baby with me.” She looks down and around her, “KAYLA!”

Then you feel the sensation of little hands on the backs of your knees. You look behind to see her child giggling at her mom trying to hide.

You step over to reveal her. “Are you trying to take my baby?! Mama, imma call you back, this girl finna get it.”

As she hangs up you take the open opportunity, “Sis, I don’t want your daughter! That bag you have is mine!”

“I’m giving you 2 seconds to step away from my girl. Kayla get over here NOW!” The girl runs back in her mother’s direction, not necessarily to her.

You look up taking a deep breath, but the amount of calm left in you is draining fast, “She came over to me! I didn’t even mess with her! But ma’am, the bag! That’s not yours!”

She takes a step toward you, leaning with her hands in prayer position, “And now you tryna steal MY shit! You got fucking nerve, thinking you cute up here, walking up on me and my child, the fuck--”

Suddenly a male voice enters the mix. “What’s going on here, Shay?”

You assume this is her man lookin like a Tyler Perry extra but unfortunately his wack braids aren’t a wig. But at this point you don’t give a fuck cuz she still has your damn bag.

“Man, she got my bag, but she keeps getting stuck on other shit that we ain’t even able to rectify this!”

“Don’t talk to him like you brazy, bitch!” She shrieks.

This sent you over. Clapping, “WHO YOU CALLIN CRAZY, you need to control your light skinned ass attitude and your bad ass baby and run me my bag back!”

“Ok, but I got my man here with me if you wanna try it. Where the fuck yours, ugly ass--”

“Aye aye AYE! Aight now! Airport fights ain’t what’s hot in here. Shay, come on, we don’t need another strike. You almost made the no-fly. And that ain’t your damn bag.”

She looked down at it like she snapped out a trance. She looked at you with anger then at him, “Then where the hell my damn bag, Carl! You got the damn things!”

“There it is Mommy!” Kayla smarter than her own damn mother.

Shay looks up at you as she walks past, barely missing brushing you, which is all you would’ve needed to steal on her, but Jesus makes a way.

Kayla has ran back to Carl, who picks her up, “Sorry…” he starts to say before Shay bellows, “COME GET THIS BAG CARL!”

He purses his mouth to trot over to Shay. A wave of relief covers you as the stress from the scene dissipates. You grab the handle of your bag and make way to the exit, hailing your cab, and praying this isn’t an omen for the entirety of your trip.

Pulling up to the hotel, you unload, thankful for a non-communicative cabbie this time. Making your way up the steps to the hotel, you are greeted.

“Welcome! Are you checking in today?” The perky blonde behind the counter quipped.

“I have a room for the leader’s conference this week, my name is (Y/N).”

She looks at the computer screen, tapping away at the keys. “Hmm, I don’t see it…”

You look at her blankly. No way you have come all this way, with the day you had, and not have a room.

She continues to tap, asking you to spell your name. As you do, she finds it, “Ah! Thanks, sorry about that. Ethnic names always give me a rough time.” She laughs way too hard at that, and you don’t offer her anything in response.

“Do you have my key?” You say deadpan.

The blonde, oblivious to your discontent, hands it to you. “Yes, sweetie, here you go! And enjoy your stay!” She says it with a neck roll on the last set of words that gave you complete racial indigestion. You roll your eyes and walk on up, thinking about how far you have made it, and how bad you just want a bath.

Getting in your room, you lay the bag down and swan dive onto the bed. Your body pulsates with pain in your back, feet and head: the unholy trinity. In the peace and tranquility of your room, you were ready to fall asleep there, but you felt disgusting so you drug yourself off the bed to the bathroom to start the shower up.

Disrobing, you step into the shower, feeling the cool water cover your body. Summer has not been a kind season so far with the humidity wreaking havoc on you and your hair follicles, so the streams hitting your body made for a great escape from the world. It sent a shiver down you, making you arch with pleasure into the sensation. Each droplet massages the aches in your back, making your scalp tingle involuntarily. Turning around you angle the head, letting the streams beat against your lower region, almost bidet style.

A tongue runs down your back, as if your soaked copper skin were melted chocolate, stopping right before the crack of your ass. Two broad hands find either side of your hips, thumbs massaging the small of your back. He spreads your cheeks apart, smacking one side. The wetness of your backside from the shower gives a stereo effect in the shower, causing the sound to reverberate. You gasp, biting down on your lips to keep peaceful. A growling voice commands your attention. “Now, you better hold still, or you won’t get clean properly…” he demands of you, his loyal subject. Ok, you say barely above a whisper. “What was that? Speak up, girl! Closed lips can never be fed...” He said in a villainous tone, teasing you with possibility. I said that’s fi--, you start but nothing but unintelligible gurgles come from you as his tongue find your sweet spot. Even his nose tickles you as he buries face beautiful face deep between your crevice, gripping your sides to keep you from arching away like a frightened cat. Fuck! I’m going to cum all over you if you don’t stop, shit! He stands up at the warning, “Well doll, that’s the plan, right? But just so you know, we aren’t done, until I say,” he growls as he massages your breasts from behind, rubbing his length against your folds causes a jolt through your body with every brush against your clitoris. You are a bundle of electric passion on the verge of combustion, but not one to turn down a challenge. Well bring your fat ass on then… you say through gritted teeth. He guffaws right before inching in...

You hands gripped the walls as the thought fell into your mind. You hadn’t texted M’Baku yet and it was a little later than you anticipated getting back. That fat ass would make for a great comfort to you but a FaceTime will have to do. You step out, toweling down and wrapping a robe around you. You sit on the bed, grabbing your phone up, and going to his name. It rings, and rings, which is odd because you thought he would be nipping at the bit to get in touch with you by now. You get a text then, ‘Hang on. I’ll call you right back’

Part 2

Since I do fanfics about as often as a humpback whale procreates, sorry if you’re wondering who the hell this is tagging, but you guys asked for it! And hopefully those I missed will find this

Tags: @sweetpeachjones @hairhattedghooligan @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @groovybbyyy

Other Works:

King Kil’mawalls

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

T’akia

Commencement Day

#m'baku #m'baku x reader #black panther fanfic #fanfic #m'baku fanfic #mbaku #m'baku x you #mbaku x you #mbaku reader

238 notes · View notes

carrotnosewitch · 6 years

Text

feeling blah? check your space. (long step-by-step)

my husband, who is probably the smartest and most spiritually awesome person i’ve ever known, has been trying to instill this kind of mental acuteness within me for years. sometimes i remember it, sometimes i forget. sometimes i remember it but it’s a high pain day. y’know how it is.

this is a little things kind of thing at first. a lot of my time is spent in front of my computer and a lot of it is spent on the sofa or in bed. but wherever i am, i try to keep my surrounding area clean.

why? well let me explain, both in a spiritual way, and for practical reasons.

in a small space, like my desk and on my side table of my bed, it’s imperative to feel open and spacious. if my side table or desk gets cluttered, i feel claustrophobic, or overwhelmed by Stuff. even if it’s things that are there to give me positive thoughts. If there are too many, it’s time to declutter.

a lot of people (anxiety sufferers, a-spec folks, adhd people) have this thing that makes them block out things that stick around for a while. things that stay in a static place for too long become background noise, but they give a feeling of clutter. it also sucks when you’re looking around you and you’re hit with a wave of knowing it’s there to make you feel better, but you’ve gotten mentally weary of that exact thing that’s been there for a long time.

So, go over this checklist with me.

Things up on the wall near you. How long has it been there? Is it helping? Is it mental/visual clutter? If it’s not stimulating it you how it should, it’s time to take it down.

Your horizontal space beside you. Does it have a bunch of unnecessary clutter? Are there things in that space that don’t have any important or special reason for being there? If you can, remove all the clutter, and re-arrange the important things to suit your space better. Don’t move things you have a reflex of it being there. (Y’know. tissue boxes, meds, your tablet pen, etc)

Your outer bubble. Are there things in your immediate area beyond where you’re sitting which is distracting you or making you feel nervous, claustrophobic, or overwhelmed? Do your best to find a solution to this problem. Clean up, brighten the area, and put something there that helps you relax.

Another big help is getting your whole area clean. Don’t push yourself to do everything at once. Take your time to do a little here and there, don’t rush yourself or stress yourself out about it. This is an in-depth reason for keeping things clean, how to feel super accomplished even in the littlest tasks, and respecting your own area. Here’s YA BIG ASS LIST.

Your bedroom: Clothes. are there dirty clothes around you, or clean clothes that haven’t been put away? Do yourself a favor and unclutter this first. Take all the dirty clothes you’ve been tripping over and sort them into light and dark piles. Put those light and dark piles. now you can start putting your clothes away. how i do this is i sort my clean clothes by what they are and which drawer they go. then i fold them and put them away. it gives me a chance to stretch and pop my back between the steps. And that’s like, six whole steps. now you’ve got two clean baskets (presumably) that you can use to put your dark and lights into for easier laundry. This is usually the worst and most draining job of the bedroom. break it into easy to do steps. drink some water while you’re doing it, just to make sure your joints aren’t getting tired while sorting and folding and putting away! Dishes. Are there any dishes in your room? Even if they’re stinky and weird, bring them into your kitchen. Get a clean glass for your water. Hey! that only took a few minutes, I’m sure. Give yourself a rest. A+ cleaning, and I’m not being condescending. That’s a great job! Garbage. I’m sure you’ve got some papers or snack wrappers, or drink cans/bottles/disposable cups. go from the door of your room with a plastic bag, gather stuff up as you pass by it. bring that out of your room, and suddenly you don’t feel like you live in a landfill. Bedding. How long have you been sleeping in between the same top cover and sheet? When’s the last time you changed out your pillowcase? It’s time for a change. remove them, throw them in a pile, and put some clean ones on. If you don’t have other ones, wash those and once they’re dry, put them back on. You’ll feel cleaner and get to sleep better. Clutter. Hell, this is me all over. I’ve got too much cool stuff and paperwork cluttering my shelves. I follow the six month rule with paperwork, clothes, and useful stuff that barely gets use. Are you going to need it or use it within six months? If no, get rid of it or pack it away. Bring the clothes to your local thrift store if you can. If you’ve got decorations that have gotten dusty or grimy, take one of your bored days to clean them up. not only will you be doing something that makes you happy, but it’ll make your room far less apt to accrue negative energy. Your knickknacks bring you joy. Treat them respectfully! Floor: Vacuum. get the dust, dead skin, and whatever else up out of there. Side note: If you are having bad dreams, there’s a few neato things you can do to help you sleep. Some people swear by amethyst under your pillow. Some others suggest other stones. idk about y’all but stones under my pillow are somehow worse than troubles with dreams or sleep. I prefer sachets for in your pillowcase. even if you aren’t the best at sewing, you can do this. Just get a tiny white fabric baggie. whatever works for you. Just make sure it’s secure, so the herbs don’t get loose and make your bed an itchfest. lavender is the primary scent people go with, though I’m not the biggest on that scent. anise is another one that works, because this is silly but true: it’s shaped like a star. cedar, since the middle ages, has been thought to cure persistent nightmares, and open you to lucid dreaming. jasmine is such an awesome flower and scent, so mellow and enchanting. i’d suggest this because of its calming and kind vibe. find dried jasmine and add it to the bag. there’s a ridiculous many herbs worth exploring here. If you want to get spicy with it, I suggest adding a sigil or even an amulet of the one you want to look over you in your sleep. I use an amulet of the archangel Gabriel, who presides over dreams and sleep.

Your Bathroom: Your area rugs. These little buggers need to be washed. They’re usually made of fabric. Fabric that hangs out in your dampest room, no less. You probably don’t think of it often, but mildew is not a good thing for your health, and those things get mildew like crazy. Time for the washer and dryer again! Your towels and washcloths. How long has that washcloth been chilling there? Okay, if it dries and becomes a stiff nasty mess? Time to switch them out. Towels (especially hand towels) need to be washed frequently, too. Not only because the mildew thing is still y’know. a thing. but you deserve to be cleaned by clean things. it’s better for your body, and it’s so good for your spirit, to know that you’re doing right by yourself. Your place you keep things. You know, that place you keep your products, makeup, whatever. Is it in disarray on a messy shelf or counter? Time to fix that up! Set all those things aside, clean the surface they’ve been chilling on. Then you can get things sorted and aligned. Did you know straight lines are satisfying? Try it. Also if you have a candle in there, just light it for a little bit. Not only is it trés romantic and luxurious, but it burns the stank out of there, not just physically, but otherwise, as well. Your toilet. Not only the bowl. The bottomside of the seat, and the hinges that attach the seat and lid. and back behind those hinges, where the shitter meets the tank. Goodbye stink goblins! Also bye that general gross feeling. Your tub. You dissociate there a lot, think your thoughts, and get clean, but that means your dead skin, hair, and oils are all over that. I personally use either orange cleaning solution or magic erasers, and those fucking rock that shit out. Oh, don’t forget to de-hair your drain. Gross nasty gluck. Personally, my mom told me to stop associating those oils, hair, and all that other stuff with yourself. (and nail clippings.) This makes sure you don’t wind up getting hexed. (Those nail clippings and that nasty hair can VERY easily be used in a hex bag.) Your sink and mirror. First off, how the hell are you going to take bathroom selfies if this makes you always internally go “yikes”, and not at yourself. Scrub the toothpaste grit from around and in the sink. Side note: If you don’t like what you see when you look in the mirror, you can set rose incense near the mirror, use that hypothetical bathroom candle, and turn the light off. Speak into the mirror, “I am the best me so far.” or something similar. Remind yourself that you are okay, no matter what kind of imperfections you think are there. You are incredible. Nobody’s seeing your flaws because they’re too busy fretting about their own. It’s cool. you’re cool. Floor. while those stinky area rugs are out and on their way to the large cloth water vortex, take a minute to sweep. Envision yourself sweeping away not only the garbage and grut, but the anxiety and bad feelings. Dustpan, garbage, good. Trash. I left this for last. You’ve got a lot of stuff you’ll need thrown out. If you use a plastic shopping bag in a tiny little garbage pail like i do, it’s time to clean it out. If you’re also a nasty bitch like me, you’ve gotta also put the stuff that missed the garbage can in there too. Go take that to your main trash to go out with you next time you leave your place. Well now your bathroom is flawless and won’t make you subconsciously make you anxious. You’ve got things looking like they’re almost meant to like, exist in the fictional world Jenna Marbles apparently lives.

Kitchen: Fridge: Clean out all the nasty shit. Wipe it down. Put the containers over near the sink to wash. Dishes. Do you have piles of these nasty bitches fucking up your day, every time you go on a raid for sustenance? First step is to gather them, then take your time for each step. Wash them. Put them away. As you do this, speak to yourself, chant to yourself, or just think to yourself, that by cleaning these, you are doing right and fair to your body. a clean dish is a healthy dish. a clean pan is a pan that will cook happy foods. This whole room is capable of so much, and can do so much for your joy and health. Sink. After you’re done cleaning the dishes, you can unstink your sink. Again, I’m all about that orange solution, but if you like another scent that makes you feel energized, go for it. This is the part of the kitchen that shares like, a third of the work. This is where all the negative and gross goes. Down the drain both physically and emotionally. Get the fuck out of here, nasty! Counters. Just wipe them down until they’re not nasty and crumb-laden and have spatters on them. tell them that they’re going to do great things for you. If you’re a kitchen witch, you’re making all your cool shit on them. Stove/microwave/the heaty thingy. Ungrut it. our friend the stovetop is the unfortunate victim of nasty cooked on things. So is our screwy science friend, the microwave. Scrubby dubby! sometimes you’ll need to soak ‘em. Whatever makes it easier for you. Floor. It’s time to sweep! again, take that broom and use it, not just to get rid of sugar, cereal and even the dried corns nibblets that fell under the fridge, but the negative energies. again, be firm about it. Fuck outta here, dark spookies! carefully pour the stuff in your garbage. Ya Cabinets. Before you pull out the mop and bucket, don’t forget the surfaces of the cabinets. A Happier kitchen is a kitchen that doesn’t tell you the story of the ill-begotten incident of the chicken parm. You see that squidge of marinara on the cabinet door and have been annoyed by it since it was made. Time to get it gone. All the while, think about the things these cabinets have seen. All the weird utensils you never use that live in this drawer. The fondue machine you bought with the aspirations of having a 70s night get together, as told to you by that very convincing guy at IKEA. Think of all these cool things in your kitchen. Focus on the positive moments you’ve spent in here. Picture the future of this kitchen. And thank it for the memories to come. Floor 2: Slippery Boogaloo. Mop and bucket time!!! No seriously if you don’t like mopping, idk what to say. Do your kitchen a solid and scrub away all that nasty crap that didn’t make it into the dust pan. Once you’re done and it’s drying, feel fucking awesome about a job well done. Side note: Hey y’know what kicks ass in a kitchen? The scent of the season. A lot of people get down with the welsh calendar, and that’s a great way of cycling through the seasons comfortably for people. then there’s the regular four seasons, but do it how you want. It’s imbolc as of the time I’m writing this. I personally love cinnamon and sandalwood, since they’re both wonderfully warm scents, to balance out the wintry shivers of the outside. You can use essence oils, or like, airwicks, or candles, or even make a wreath with those fun things in there that are aromatic on one of your walls.

Living room Seriously, all these hot takes can be used in the living room now. Clean under and between the couch cushions. clean your decorations. declutter. Remember the good times as you clean. And then to cleanse it of all the gross energies, do what you do. Use white and sweet flower/herb scents to reset the most important room of your house’s energies. Side note: If you want to keep your stuff from disappearing, place a pin safely deep under your couch/chair cushion. This is called pinning the devil. you’re literally pinning down whatever it is that’s keeping you from finding - or straight up disappearing - your stuff. If you have guardians - decorations of animals of some sort - make sure they have a full spy of the room. I prefer putting one on each corner of the room so everything can be seen. This makes sure the energy you want in your home is respected. If someone has bad intentions, this will give off a vibe of them being unwelcome and feel your guardians’ eyes on them. If they’re someone that you appreciate, and you feel comfortable around, these guardians will keep things nice for you and give your home a welcoming feeling. don’t forget to dust them.

#witchblr #real witch #witchcraft #i wrote this

1 note · View note