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#on an uber to go back to the parking lot and get my car which has been getting cold with its slightly open window
zegrasdrysdale · 5 months
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Can you write about Nico dating a really famous actress, she is in House of the Dragon and in Dune, and now she is doing the press tour for the movie so she hasn't seen Nico in a while so to surprise him she goes to the stadium series and is at the family skate with him holding hands and being cute the whole time, so Nico is asked about their relationship the press conference after the game and he answered the question being a proud boyfriend, please? I love your writing
[ press pause ] n. hischier
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paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary : after being away for a few months filming and doing press for her projects, (Y/N) surprises boyfriend Nico at family skate before the Stadium Series
warning(s) : one suggestive comment but other than that, cute and fluffy
author’s note : this request has been sitting in my drafts bc i wasn’t very proud of it but i decided to let it see the light of day bc i miss the stadium series. pls lmk what y’all think (the entire press conference is completely made up for the sake of the fic btw)
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She needed a vacation by the time her tour ended in New York City. It’s exhausting doing a multi-month press tour for a show that wasn’t coming out until the summer. She knows she’ll have to go on another one anyway while the season is airing on HBO.
The idea didn’t enter her mind until she saw a billboard on the highway going into New York. It advertises the two NHL Stadium Series games that are happening in a few days.
When the games were announced a few months ago, she was already booked on the press tour for season two of House of the Dragon. Nico wanted her to come to the game against the Flyers but she wasn’t sure if she’d be in the area to go.
Turns out, she is. Since she’s in the area, she decides to surprise her captain boyfriend at family skate.
Cat Toffoli worked closely with a designer to make some jackets for the wives and girlfriends of the players for the Stadium Series. She even made sure to make one with a “13” on it, just in case.
She’s happy that she gets to put the jacket to use since she’s surprising Nico at family skate. Pressing pause on her press tour to support her boyfriend in what’s one of the most important games of his life was the best idea she’s had in a while. It’s been a long time since she has laced up the skates Nico bought her when they first got together during the 2021-2022 season. Tonight seems a good time.
An Uber takes her from her shared apartment with Nico in Hoboken to MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford once she's in something that she can comfortably skate in, which ends up being leggings, a red shirt, and her jacket that Cat had made for her. She grabs one of Nico's beanies out of the endless pile in his closet just in case her head gets cold.
She gets more excited the closer she gets to the football field turned hockey rink. She shakes with excitement when the Uber pulls into the player parking lot.
Cars are parked all over the place. She recognizes most of the cars that are parked. The Devils get the ice tonight for practice and family skate.
With her jacket wrapped tight around her and a duffel bag holding her skates, she heads in the back entrance. She shows her ID to the security guard, who gives her special credentials so everyone knows she’s allowed there and is allowed onto the ice.
She’s already late so she could pull off this surprise. All of the players and their families are out on the ice. With quick feet, she makes her way onto the field. Her duffel bag slung over her shoulder as she rushes to the rink.
As soon as she reaches the bench, someone tells, “Nice of you to join us!” She sits down so she can change into her skates. Jack skates by with a smile on his face. “He’s been hoping that you’d show up.”
Her eyes scan the ice to find her boyfriend. She finally is able to spot him as he skates over to her. Jack skates off and Nico takes his spot.
When her laces are tied, she stands up and Nico helps her over the boards. “You’re here?” he asks as she gains her balance on her skates. “I thought you were traveling today.”
“Decided to press pause so I could be here for you,” she tells him. “Wanted to support my boyfriend after all the supporting you’ve done for me.” Nico flashes his dimpled smile at her.
She takes in his appearance. He’s in full gear with his red practice jersey since they did practice before the families came onto the ice. He has on his Devils beanie with the pompom on top of his head. The eye black he has on his cheeks looks good.
Nico takes her hand and loosely laces their fingers. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “It wouldn’t have been the same if you weren’t here.”
“Your dad and sister came though,” she replies as Nico begins to skate backwards. He pulls her along and she manages to keep her balance by holding his hands. “I’m sure it would’ve been okay if I wasn’t able to come.”
He pulls her closer to him so her chest is pressed against his gear on his chest. Nico’s hands rest on her waist to make sure she doesn’t fall. “You’re the most important person in my life, schatzi,” he tells her. “It wouldn’t have been the same. I promise”
She smiles up at him.
Out of the corner of her eye, he notices all the cameras on the two of them. She’s not even surprised. She’s one of the world’s most known actresses and he’s the captain of the Devils. Reporters are probably getting all the pictures they can get.
Nico doesn't let go of her hand. He makes sure their fingers are locked the entire time she's on the ice.
It's easy to forget the world around her when she skates with Nico. She's so focused on Nico and Nico is so focused on her that it feels like they're the only two people in the world despite multiple pairs of eyes being on them and a bunch of cameras trained on them.
There's only a few minutes left of family skate when Nico decides that it would be a good idea to spin his girlfriend. When she's on the toe pick of her skates, because Nico thought it would be smart to get her figure skating skates, he grabs her hand and spins her around.
"Nico!" she gasps as she spins right into his arms. He wraps his arms around her waist "You can't just do that without warning me. What if I fell?"
He laughs against her ear. "You know I'll always have you," he tells her. "You would think that you'd be able to skate on your own by now."
She shakes her head as Nico kisses the swell of her ear. The smile that forms on her lips is involuntary since she's trying to be mad at Nico. "I don't think you understand that I skate maybe three times a year," she sighs. "My job doesn't involve skating like yours does."
Nico smiles and she looks up at him. "Have I ever told you how good you look on skates?" he asks. "Because this look does it for me. Hope you know that."
With a gentle shove from her, Nico backs away but always makes sure to keep a hand on her so she doesn't fall.
"You are so lucky that I love you," she says to Nico as she carefully turns to face him.
He hums and playfully rolls his eyes before he slides his hands up to cup her cheeks. His fingers are freezing, but she quickly pushes that thought out of her head when Nico pulls her in for a soft kiss. She can't help but smile as she returns the kiss.
It's very rare for Nico to show this type of affection in public let alone at a Devils event. They're both very shy about their relationship when it comes to the public eye, but sometimes a moment overwhelms them and they can't help it.
Like this moment. Center ice on the Stadium Series rink.
She wraps her arms around his waist for a little extra security. The last thing she wants to do right now is fall on her butt. She can hear all the snaps of the cameras the longer their lips are connected.
Nico breaks the kiss and smiles at her. She reaches up and pokes his dimple, which gets a laugh out of Nico.
"Alright, Dimple Lover," he says with a smile. "Let's go. I feel gross and sweaty. I need to shower."
"As long as I can join you if you decide to shower at home."
"We're going home right now."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
From the moment Nico scored on Sam Ersson thirty seconds into the game, she's been on her feet. It set the pace for the rest of the game. The Devils scored two goals every period, and Nico himself scored two goals on the night.
East Rutherford is on fire in the stands. They're cheering. It gets even louder when Nico is being interviewed by Emily Kaplan on a live mic and he says, "Thanks for showing up. It was fucking amazing- sorry."
He has the cutest smile on his face and waves at the crowd around him. The smile she already had on her face grows impossibly bigger.
When Nico heads down the tunnel to get out of his gear, she heads down to stand outside the media room so she can catch Nico before he goes in and does his post-game comments.
She's liking pictures of her and Nico from yesterday on Instagram. She replies to some of her mentions on Twitter. She even posts one of the pictures of her and Nico from yesterday when they were on the ice at family skate. Almost immediately, it begins blowing up on every single social media platform like her posts usually do when she posts Nico.
Minutes after she posts the picture, Nico comes walking down the stairs that lead to the hallway. He's back in Sopranos outfit, sans the jacket. The white tank hugs his body and shows off his arms. The cut he has under his eye completes the look.
Nico spots her before he turns into the media room. He says that he'll be in the room in a second. Then he walks over to his girlfriend.
"Hi, handsome," she says with a smile on her face. "Nice goals. Oh, I like this outfit too."
He leans down and steals a kiss. "Those goals were for you, schatzi," he whispers to her as he tucks her hair behind her ear. "I had to show off for my girl."
She smiles up at him and he mirrors it.
"Nico, we need you in here," someone says. "Nate's ready to go."
Nico nods and looks into the room. "Want to come watch?" he asks. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind."
With a nod, the two of them head into the room.
The reporters buzz as Nico walks up to the table to sit with Nate and she makes her way to an empty seat among the reporters. The woman she sits next to has a moment of panic and realization of who she is as the press conference gets underway.
One of the reporters in the front row asks, "Nate, was that celly after your goal planned?"
Nate laughs and nods. "Yeah, actually," he replies. The reporters in the crowd laugh. "Chris and I sat down and planned out a couple of different cellys just in case either of us scored. I happened to be the one to score, twice."
"Speaking of two goals, Nico," another reporter begins to say. "How do you feel after those goals you scored? Effing amazing?"
Nico smiles. "Yeah, it felt good, without the addition of another word that shouldn't have been said on live television," he replies with a very light laugh. "No, it feels good to score two goals coming off the All Star break. Took some time off, skated and worked on what I needed to, and, uh, I'm ready to have a good second half of the season."
They make eye contact and she smiles at him. One of the reporters notices that Nico's smile has gotten softer. "So, your goals have nothing to do with the fact that your girlfriend was here all weekend?" a third reporter asks.
"The fact that she was able to take time out of her incredibly busy schedule to be here means a lot to me, yeah," Nico says. "Being able to score a couple goals was me telling her that I was happy she was here."
"So it doesn't bother you that her presence this weekend has made multiple headlines and occasionally overshadowed the game?"
Nico scans the crowd and finds the reporter that asked the question. "I have never once thought that her being here this weekend overshadowed the game," he replies. "I am more than happy to have her here. If she makes a view headlines then oh well. She's one of the world's most well known and talented actresses, and I am proud to be her boyfriend. If that means that some of the attention is off of me then okay."
She smiles and bites her bottom lip as she watches Nico while he and Nate finish up the press conference with questions about the game.
One of the things she's always been worried about was completely overshadowing Nico and his career with hers. Now that she knows that he's proud of her accomplishments.
As soon as Nico is done, he makes a beeline right for her. She opens her mouth to say something but Nico quickly cuts her off with his lips. She giggles into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck.
Cameras click around them but she doesn't care. Neither does Nico if he meant what he said.
"Nico," she laughs as she breaks the kiss. "This is your day. Enough about me. Stop making me a headline by kissing me in front of the cameras."
He smiles. "I don't care," he tells her. "I'll kiss you in front of a million cameras."
She shakes her head and pushes his hair out of his face. "You are insane," she tells him.
"You love it."
"I do."
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purplecoffee13 · 2 months
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“Say you’re sorry.”*
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Hey guys! I’ve been writing different parts of different series (new and current ones) but I’m still in the middle of all of them, so I wanted to upload this blurb in the meantime. I usually don’t add pictures to blurbs but this one was too perfect not to add, like… look at him. Anyways, hope you like it!!! xxx
Wc: 1.3k
Warnings: SMUT, degradation, lowkey exhibitionism, daddy kink, spanking (only once but still)
General Masterlist
Blurbs Masterlist
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"What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? Disobeying me, hanging up on me, driving me fucking crazy? Thought I'd taught you well... why are you being such a brat tonight?"
"Just wanted to have fun with my friends..." you protest, letting Harry drag you to his car. Your stomach bubbles in excitement, curious to see what he is going to do to you.
Tonight you had had a girls night with your two best friends, to celebrate the fact that you were all engaged or married. You had been friends since college and couldn't believe you had all come so far. However, a few hours and a bottle of wine later, you all realized: you hadn't gone out in a damn hot minute.
Naturally, the idea of going clubbing came to mind. You texted Harry, telling him you were spontaneously going clubbing, but wouldn't be home later than two (you two were flying to your mom the next day, so you didn’t want to be extremely unrested). He texted you back to go to Mercy—the club which he owned—because he had arranged VIP and a limitless tab for you there, and also reminded you to text him if you'd be home later than three so he wouldn't worry.
You agreed, and so you and your friends went to the club. However, time flew by and before you knew it was 3:30am and you were still dancing the night away. It wasn't long after that Harry showed up.
Your friends had agreed when he said he was going to take you home and let her rest a bit before getting on the flight tomorrow, and asked if they wanted to make use of the Uber he reserved for them. Since they both lived on the other side of town, he figured that would be most efficient.
It didn't take long before your friends were safely in the car paid for by Harry. Then, it was only the two of you, and your fiancé wasn't wasting any time.
"You told me you'd be home two hours ago. We have to be somewhere tomorrow." He tells you once he has escorted you back to the dark parking lot where his BMW stood between a bunch of other cars. He pulls you in between his car and another, and pushes you against the vehicle. His free hand slips under your dress and past your panties. You sigh when his fingers come in contact with your clit and start to rub.
"I lost track of time!" You whine, shutting your eyes at the pleasure of Harry's touch. A shriek leaves your mouth when Harry slaps your clit.
"I called you five fucking times, and you ignored me. You're a spoiled fucking brat." He growls in your ear, stimulating your clit further. You bite your lip, looking around to check if there is no one here. Your eyes land on a bouncer, standing in front of the back exit Harry just carried you out of. You gasp, worried that he sees you and maybe thinks the wrong thing. Harry is quick to catch on to your worries.
"Don't worry baby, he works for me, he won't think anything of it. I own that club, remember?" He says confidently, and you let out a moan. The tone of his voice has you hot and bothered for him. Your boyfriend can be so cocky, and it's so fucking hot.
"Shit… Oh my god!” you whine as your eyes roll into the back of your head. His assertiveness and stern tone had done something to you, and being a bit tipsy always made it easier for you to come, but this was extremely fast.
“You gonna come for me already? How pathetic…” Harry teases you, only increasing the speed of his fingers and positively letting you descend into heaven or wherever it is that these euphoric orgasms always seem to send you.
"Say you're sorry, baby. Say you're sorry and I'll let you come." He orders. You bite your lip, jaw slacked as you try to contain the amount of noises that threaten to leave your mouth.
"Sorry— oh f–fuck!" You squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling of his fingers rubbing harsher, interrupting your apology. "I'm sorry, daddy."
There was a part of Harry that wanted to snatch his fingers away from you and make you cry for an orgasm until your eyes were all puffy and red, and then fuck you for the rest of the night. But he knew that the flight of tomorrow was going to kill you if you didn't have at least a bit of sleep, so he cut you some slack this time.
"Alright, come on baby, come all over my fingers." His rough voice orders, and he has to slap his hand over your mouth to muffle the squeal that escapes you as your orgasm takes over your body.
There isn't much time to come down from anything, as Harry is quick to take away his hand and open the car door. You watch as he steps inside and backs up his seat, giving you enough space for what you know he wants to do. As expected, he pulls you into the car, and you climb on top of him as he closes the car door. With the car seat leaned further down, he lays down and silently observes you. The cocky raise of a brow that says 'go on' makes your cunt ache for him again, and you are quick to follow his silent orders.
You unbutton his pants and whip out his cock, mesmerized by it as always. Harry smirks at you, still delighted by how starry eyed you get over him. You line yourself up with your fiancé's cock and push him into you. A sigh of relief leaves Harry's mouth and it makes you even wetter than you thought you could be.
Nothing but heavy pants and the squelching sounds of you bouncing up and down in Harry's cock fill the car.
"Oh, daddy! You feel so good!" You whimper, attempting to increase your speed. Harry moans out at the impact with which you are impaling yourself on his dick, and his hands travel to your tits.
"Look at you, crying for my cock, like the little slut you are." He notes tauntingly. "Don't know how to apologize in any other way than bouncing yourself dumb on my cock, do you?"
"N– ah! Fuck!" You try to respond to him, but Harry thrusts up into you, and the feeling of him so deep inside of you renders you unable to speak. Tears flow down your cheeks at the intensity of his thrusts and you aren't sure how long you'll be able to hold yourself up.
"Aw, is it too much for you baby?" He asks, following his words with an extra hard thrust. You hold on to the seat beside you in order not to fall forward, moaning uncontrollably at Harry's devilishly dirty antics.
"S– so much daddy..." you manage to croak out, and a mean laugh escapes Harry's throat. Your shut eyes open for a second, knowing you will want to see the beast you've unleashed with disobeying Harry tonight.
"Well that's too bad baby, because I don't give a fuck. I'm gonna fuck you until I've had enough, and you're going to shut up and take it, understood?" He orders, and when you don't immediately respond with words, he slaps your ass.
"Fuck! Yes, yes, daddy! Anything, please, I'm sorry. I'll be so good for you..." you start blabbering, and the sound of Harry's low chuckle vibrates all the way to your core.
"Yes you will. Now, bounce on my cock sweetheart, I never told you to stop…”
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roosterforme · 6 months
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Covering the Classics Part 3 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: When Anna finally agrees to meet her new friends at the bar, she learns pretty quickly that the hot guy from the bookstore is actually Bob Floyd. But the fact that she ran and hid from him, thinking she'd never have to see him again, leaves her feeling mortified, and Bob is left to draw his own conclusions.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Anna took a deep breath as she swiped on some mascara and found her tube of lipgloss. She finally caved and agreed to go to the Navy bar that her friends couldn't stop talking about at lunch every day. She only had about five dollars in her wallet to buy a drink since she sold her car for rent money. She couldn't believe was going to take an Uber all the way to Coronado just to make an absolute fool of herself in front of this Bob character. And worst of all, she was still thinking about the hot guy with glasses from the bookstore. 
"It's okay," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "At least you're absolutely killing it at work. And you're having a good hair day." She dabbed at her lips, but skipped the concealer. Kevin used to love it when she covered up her freckles which made her never want to do it ever again. Every time she thought about him, her heart skipped a beat, but not in the fun way.
She counted to five and said, "Kevin isn't here." Then she put her makeup away and made sure her computer was plugged in so she could mess around online when she inevitably returned to her miniscule apartment within the next hour and a half. "Let's get this show on the road," she muttered. 
The ride to the bar was uneventful, as she was sure the rest of her evening would be as well. Bob sounded like an absolute dream when Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics talked about him. Anna couldn't imagine him being outright rude to her after the two of them said he was sweet and had perfect manners, but she could already tell what his reaction would be: a kind but forced laugh, and maybe a halfhearted smile. And then Anna would probably get to watch him pick up a different girl instead if she didn't leave right away with her proverbial tail between her legs. 
Maybe she should have stayed home.
"Here we are," the driver said as he pulled into a beachside parking lot as the sun started setting over the ocean. "The Hard Deck."
"That was quick," she murmured, wishing she could stay in the solitude of this backseat a bit longer as she climbed out. "Thanks."
The fact that every day in San Diego was warm and beautiful was going to take some getting used to. The weather almost never wavered here unlike back at home. Anna opened the weather app on her phone and scrolled to her saved location in New Jersey, and sure enough, it was raining there. She nibbled on her lip and checked her work email, dragging the toe of her beat up sneaker on the gavel parking lot. 
She was just stalling now, wondering if her friends would even notice if she didn't show up. They just met her two weeks ago; they probably didn't even really like her that much. Her thumb hovered over her rideshare app as she thought about the two other women just going about their business like normal if she never went back to the weird tree at lunchtime. She was inconsequential to their day.
Anna pressed her lips together and tapped the app. There was a car two minutes away, but the guilt of having wasted eighteen dollars to come here in the first place was eating away at her mind. "Damn it," she whispered as she closed out of the app and shoved her phone into the pocket of her snug jeans. She started walking up to the sand covered wood planks that led to the entrance of the bar, and she didn't stop until she was inside. 
Slow Ride was blaring from the sound system, and the place was pretty packed. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could get the lay of the land, and when she did, she realized she was surrounded by mostly men. "Great," she mumbled, earning a few looks, probably because she had barely taken a step beyond the entryway before freezing up. 
But as Anna made her way closer to the bar, a big guy in a khaki uniform winked at her and called out, "Hey, Red!"
She felt her cheeks warm up which was certainly not going to help with that nickname. "Oh no." Deftly, she squeezed her way through the many bodies until she had one hand resting on the bar. Why were all these men so attractive? And why were they looking at her? 
When a different guy next to her turned and saw her, he stuck out his hand and said, "Hey, I'm Jackson."
"Anna," she replied, slipping her smaller hand into his very briefly before trying to take a step back. But she just ended up bumping into someone else. 
"You gotta let me buy you a drink," Jackson told her with a grin. "Seriously. You're already the best part of my night."
Anna swallowed as she looked around for her friends, but she didn't see either of them. "Um... not yet. I'm not a big drinker."
Jackson laughed merrily. "Aww, honey. You came to the wrong place. Hey, Penny!" Anna watched the bartender turn around with her hands full of two martini glasses. "Can you get this one anything she wants on my tab?"
Penny laughed, and said, "You'll have to get in line, Jackson. You're number four on her roster already."
"Damn it!" Jackson complained with a laugh.
Anna's eyes went wide as Penny delivered the two drinks and then came back and leaned on the bar right in front of her. "By the looks of things, you won't have to pay for a single drink all night. So what'll it be?"
Penny had friendly looking eyes that made Anna feel a little more comfortable. "A ginger ale?"
"Coming right up," Penny replied, reaching for a pint glass and the soda dispenser gun without looking away. "I've never seen you in here before, so I feel like it's only fair to warn you that these guys can get a little relentless."
That was literally the last thing Anna wanted to hear right now. Even Jackson hadn't moved an inch away from her, and her hands were starting to sweat as the ginger ale came gliding across the bar. When she wrapped her hand around the cold glass, she told Penny, "I'm actually supposed to meet some friends here. But I don't see them?"
She smiled and said, "Give me a name."
Anna looked down into the bubbles of her drink and muttered, "Jessica Reed?"
The response was immediate but kind. "By the pool table. Where she always is. Oh, and do not challenge her to a game, because she will kick your ass."
Anna laughed as she picked up her drink. "Thank you so much. And um... could you thank whomever paid for my ginger ale?"
Penny nodded as Anna started to head for the pool table. Jackson pouted at her, and the big guy in the uniform called out, "Come back, Red!" She ignored both of them as she fought her way through the crowd, desperately trying not to spill her drink on anyone. There were a lot more khaki uniforms and even some one piece jumpsuit type things that had patches sewn onto them. She read a few of the patches as she got closer to the pool table. Harvard. Omaha. Halo. Those were some weird names. 
"There she is. Anna!" 
She turned her head when she heard her name, and she saw Jessica waving one hand in the air as she juggled a beer and a pool cue in the other. Jessica actually looked happy to see her as she stood there, all wrapped up in the arms of a guy that Anna couldn't fully see yet. And then her other friend was waving both hands in the air, too, so she waved back. "Hi."
Both women squealed, "Hi, Anna!" in unison, and it was honestly one of the nicest sounds Anna had heard in recent memory. She already felt better about being here now, and that's when she caught sight of who she assumed was Jake. And she was momentarily struck dumb. 
The blonde man kissed the side of Jessica's neck and whispered something before releasing her, and then his green eyes met Anna's as he smiled. She decided immediately that he looked like a GQ model, and that was actually pretty fitting for what would pair well with Jessica.
"Hey," Jessica said, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer. "This is my boyfriend, Jake." She gestured over her shoulder to the GQ model who reached his hand out.
"Hi, Anna," he said with a southern drawl. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Oh. Same," she replied, biting her tongue before she told him she'd never heard of a man who was sweet enough to pack his girlfriend fancy sandwiches and also had the nerve to look like he belonged on a magazine cover.
"And that's Bradley," Jessica said mildly. 
"My god," she whispered to herself. Her other friend was wrapped up in a pair of thick arms that belonged to a man with a mustache and alluring scars that ran along his left cheek and down the side of his neck into his floral shirt collar. He was every bit as good looking as Jake, but he had dark hair and eyes and looked decidedly a little bit rougher around the edges. 
She blushed as she remembered the comment about how he and his wife liked to use math as foreplay in the bedroom. Right now, he kept pulling his wife closer for another hug and kiss while she playfully tried to escape his grasp, and Anna had to look away, because a flash of jealousy hit her like a brick. 
"Hey, Anna," came Bradley's gravelly voice as he finally released his wife, and she shook his hand as well. "Sugar told me you're from New Jersey."
Sugar? Anna was definitely beat red in the face now. "That's right."
He laughed and reached out again for a fist bump. "Way better than all these west coast losers," he said over his shoulder, earning a middle finger from another seriously good looking guy.
"Stop trying to make her think you're cool, Beer Boy," his wife told him with an eye roll before he turned away to talk to the other guy. 
The problem was, Anna already thought they were all devastatingly cool, and now she was standing here like an awkward fifth wheel. "Do you want a beer?" Jessica asked with a smile. "They have Sam Adams."
Anna didn't want to tell her about the scant five dollars in her pocket, and she also didn't want to have to thank one of the random guys who told Penny they wanted to buy her a drink, so she just shook her head. 
Then her other friend said, "Well Bob is up at the bar right now. You just missed him, actually." She was smirking as she added, "He's probably getting himself a ginger ale, but if you want a beer or something else, he'd be happy to get it for you."
She made like she was about to call out his name when Jessica said, "Bob also likes ginger ale. And the bookstore in North Park."
Anna met her eyes before turning and craning her neck. "He does?" she asked softly, thinking about those pretty eyes and wire rimmed glasses and the smell of tea leaves. And then she saw him. He was here! "Oh," she gasped. He was Bob?
---------------------------
"Thanks, Penny," Bob said as he accepted his drink. Two of the guys at the bar were talking about a cute redhead, and all he could think about was the girl from the bookshop who decided after probably four minutes and seventeen seconds that she didn't want to talk to him anymore. He wanted to look around for this mysterious, new redhead, because if he was being honest, that was something he really thought was pretty, but what was the point? She was probably already over trying to talk to Bradley or Jake or Mickey.
Yesterday, Bradley told him to start wearing his uniform to the bar if he wanted more girls to talk to him, but Bob wasn't that desperate. He still had this fantasy where he met the girl of his dreams kind of organically. But maybe wearing a Dungeons & Dragons shirt wasn't the best thing he could have paired with his jeans tonight. Jake took one look at it thirty minutes ago and told him to go home and change into something else.
"Your girlfriend likes it," Bob had told him with a smirk, and sure enough a minute later Jessica was making a fuss over it.
But now he was making his way back to the pool table where the two couples were most likely on the verge of being indecent. Seriously, if Bob had to watch Bradshaw's hands all over his wife's rear end for one more minute, he was going to scream. 
Then he saw her, and he nearly dropped his glass of ginger ale on the floor. It was the girl from the North Park bookstore. Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, kissable lips. She was looking back at him in disbelief. 
Oh my god. He was hallucinating. He must be. Jessica was talking to the redhead who wasn't paying an ounce of attention to her, because she was focused on Bob. Her lips curled into a smile, and he thought he'd better make sure. When he glanced to his left and then his right, he didn't see anyone else who could be on the receiving end of that smile besides him. 
"Bob!" called Bradshaw's wife. "Come meet Anna!"
Anna. That was the name of their new friend from the university. They talked about her all the time even though they just met her. They told him he would like her. But this was the girl who wanted that horrible Vonnegut book last weekend. This was the girl Mickey thought he imagined.
Apparently he hadn't stopped walking, because now he was right in front of the three women, and he had three pairs of wide eyes trained on his face. "I remember you," he said softly. "From the classics section." Her lips parted softly, and her pupils went wide as Bob asked, "Are you Anna?"
She nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink beneath her freckles. He almost groaned, because she was so much cuter in person than what his memory supplied. Nothing about her was flashy, which he almost preferred, but there was no way she wasn't the hot girl that those guys at the bar were talking about. 
"I am," she replied. "And you're Bob?"
He glanced at the other two women, wondering what exactly they told her about him. They looked like they were both holding their breath as he held out his hand and said, "I'm Bob Floyd. It's nice to meet you. Again."
"I'm Anna Webber." She bit her lip, a look of embarrassment overtaking her features as she shook his hand gently. Then he remembered that she ditched him last weekend, leaving nothing but the book he'd already devoured in her place like some sort of parting gift. He released her hand abruptly and cleared his throat.
Now she looked a little hurt, but he didn't know what to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves getting worse by the second as the other two women practically vibrated with excitement on either side of Anna. "Uh, thanks for that book recommendation. I loved it," he said, barely meeting Anna's pretty eyes.
She gasped and asked, "You read it? You actually read it?"
Bob was trying to formulate another coherent response, but the urge to walk out of the bar was very strong. He was already embarrassed right now, and then he heard Mickey's voice as his friend walked over. "Holy shit, she does have red hair and brown eyes."
Mickey seemed to capture Anna's attention for the time being which really grated on Bob's nerves. Nat would never do this to him, and he couldn't wait until she got home from being deployed. Then Bradshaw's wife was in his personal space along with Jessica. "So she was the girl? From the store in North Park?" she whispered, squeezing his hand.
"The one you had instant chemistry with?" Jessica added hopefully. 
Bob swallowed hard. "Yeah," he murmured. "It was Anna. But the two of you need to knock it off now, because it's probably not going to happen. There's just something about me that doesn't translate well. She kind of ditched me at the bookstore."
"What do you mean?" Jessica practically shrieked, and Bob had to hush her. "You're perfect for each other!"
He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting his awkwardness wash over him. "I don't know, Jess."
When he opened his eyes again, Anna was looking at him while she talked to Mickey, and Bob knew it would take even longer to get over the mystery woman now.
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Anna couldn't believe Bob was the mystery man from the bookstore. Their chance meeting read like a piece of poetry that had no business being in her life, but the fact that she was meeting him for the second time felt something like fate. And she didn't like it. Not one bit. 
He was so handsome, just like Jake and Bradley. Now Anna was wondering what they fed these men in the Navy, because Mickey was very good looking as well. But the more she spoke to him, the more irritated Bob seemed. And she didn't like how his brow was pinching above his glasses. Not compared to the way he'd looked at her in the bookstore. 
Her mind was a mess right now. And then she remembered that she actually ran and hid from Bob last time she saw him. She started to panic and look around, silently coming up with an escape route, but it was too late. 
"Let's play pool?" Jessica asked a bit cautiously, and that was when Anna fully pieced it all together. Her new friends from work were going to think she wasn't attracted to Bob, but that couldn't have been further from the truth right now. Frankly she didn't know what she should do, so she followed everyone over to the pool table.
Well, everyone except for Bob. He remained at the bar alone, and she couldn't really blame him for not wanting to talk to her after the stunt she pulled in the bookstore. But she was only trying to protect herself. Maybe she could explain that to him. 
She was trying to decide if she would have hid from the most attractive man who had given her the time of day in years if she knew it was actually Bob. That's when she set down her empty glass of ginger ale because she was being handed a pool cue and told to team up with Bradley. She went through the motions, playing as well as she could while she chatted with everyone, but she found herself hoping to catch Bob's pretty eyes looking at her. Once she lost and handed the cue to Jessica, she saw him heading her way, and he had a glass of ginger ale in each hand.  
"Anna," he said softly in that voice that left her shivering. She took the drink he offered her and tried to act normal, but she was still so startled by what he said earlier. 
"Did you really read A Room with a View?" she asked quickly before she lost the nerve.
Bob smiled softly and met her eyes briefly before glancing at the floor. "Every word of it."
She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Kevin never once read any of the novels she suggested for him, preferring modern horror monstrosities instead. And then he went and actually turned her life into a horrific monstrosity which she should have probably seen coming. But right here in front of her was Bob who she had actually already met and formed a pitiful crush on, and she couldn't bring herself to say more than, "I'm happy you read it."
He was blushing now as he sipped his own ginger ale before saying, "Yeah, it was great. I wouldn't mind some more of your book recommendations, honestly. As long as you don't try to get me to read that Vonnegut."
"Cat's Cradle," she said with a laugh that had his gaze snapping back up to hers. His eyes were hopeful as she smiled at him, but she rubbed her hand along her forehead and said, "I'm sorry I... vanished. The other day."
"What happened? I told Mickey I needed a minute, and you were just gone."
She wanted to be honest with him, but she didn't know how to explain herself. And now she was starting to feel like she and Bob were in a fishbowl; so many pairs of eyes were looking their way with next to no subtlety. She cleared her throat and decided to avoid his question. "Have you read any Jane Austen?"
He looked a bit disappointed by her response, but he said, "I have not."
"I think you'd enjoy Persuasion. Or Northanger Abbey. What about Virginia Woolf?"
Bob shook his head. "I feel like I'm about to embarrass myself again like I did last weekend at the bookstore, but no, I haven't read either."
Anna practically moaned at his bashful expression and pink cheeks. He smelled so good, it was unbelievable. Why did she feel so drawn to him? Why couldn't she stop herself from taking a step closer when he muttered, "As soon as you said you knew what Cat's Cradle was about, I figured I was in way over my head. The classics kind of elude me. I'm actually more of a poetry buff."
"Poetry?" she gasped, heart pounding at an overwhelming rate as he swirled his glass of ginger ale around with nonchalance. As if he hadn't just said the sexiest thing any man had ever told her. 
"Are the two of you just going to stand here and play footsie all night?"
Anna looked up to see Jake with a smirk on his face right in front of her. She didn't even notice anyone else in her vicinity before he spoke. Bob was shaking his head and already taking a step away from her when she asked, "Do you want me to text you some more recommendations?"
Bob froze and turned to look at her with a soft smile. "That'd be great." When she handed him her unlocked phone, he quickly added his number before handing it back to her. His calloused fingers felt even more exhilarating this time, which was very bad, because she'd already been thinking about the way he accidentally touched her at the bookstore on repeat.
"I'll send you some of my ideas," she muttered, pocketing her phone again before allowing Jake to pull her away toward the pool table again. She tried her best not to let her attention return to Bob over and over again, but she mostly failed. Sure enough, after a while, she saw another woman break the perimeter of the pool table and make a beeline toward Bradley before eventually turning toward Bob. 
She was really pretty with shiny brown hair, and it made Anna uncomfortable when she touched Bob's arm. It wasn't fair. He was so lovely and soft spoken and handsome. He was even wearing a shirt Kevin would have never been caught dead in, but it made Anna smile. In another version of her life, she would have gone for it tonight. Instead she got to watch the brunette woman hand him her phone just like she'd done a few minutes prior. 
"It's pretty late," she said suddenly even though she had no idea what time it actually was. "I'm going to head out."
Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics both looked a little alarmed. "Already?"
"Yeah," she said, setting down her ginger ale and trying to skirt past Bob and the unknown woman. She gave both of her friends a quick hug and said, "I have a lot to prepare for my upcoming classes this weekend."
"Let me walk you to your car," Bob replied immediately, slipping away from the brunette to be closer to Anna. "Maybe you can give me the titles of the Jane Austen books again?" His cheeks were flushed, and the other woman looked annoyed now which did make Anna smile.
"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," she repeated for him as she started to walk past the bar sending a wave in the direction of the pool table. Bob was following her now as she added, "And I don't have a car, so there's nothing to walk me to."
"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," he repeated softly to himself. "Will you let me drive you home then?" he asked hopefully. "All I had to drink was ginger ale."
Anna let herself look up at him before she shook her head. "I'll get an Uber, but thanks for offering. It was nice to meet you. Again."
"It sure was," he agreed as he continued to follow her all the way to the door.
With one last glance over her shoulder, she noticed the dark haired woman on her tiptoes looking around for Bob. "Your brunette friend is looking for you," Anna said softly before slipping outside into the cool night air and opening the rideshare app on her phone. Bob didn't follow her any further, and she rode home with disappointment and sadness thrumming through her body. She was out of cheap wine, but at least she had her favorite poetry website to keep her company.
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Bob groaned as he nudged his glasses up his nose and pressed his fingertips to his eyes until he was seeing stars. "But I like redheads," he moaned to himself. He could not believe it. He really just couldn't get over the fact that tonight of all nights some random woman started to chat him up. Anna could barely look at him to begin with, but now he'd be damn lucky if she actually texted him the book recommendations at all. 
His dream girl was Anna. Anna was the perfect woman he met at the bookstore. Anna was the one he'd been thinking about nonstop, but now he had confirmation that she wasn't into him. That's why she vanished last weekend. That's why she gave him the cold shoulder tonight when he was practically tripping over himself at the sight of her. She was perfect. He was just hopeless. He could keep thinking about her, but what was the point? Now that he knew she worked with his friends, he had to stop this crush in its tracks and try to save face.
"There you are, Robby." A hand snaked around his side to his abs, and he almost jumped a foot in the air. He hated being called that, and he hated that Anna saw this woman talking to him. 
"Hi," he said cautiously, taking a step away from her. 
"Is the redhead your girlfriend?" she asked, clearly annoyed now.
Bob sighed and said, "I wish."
She rolled her eyes and vanished back into the crowd, leaving him alone again. He never imagined he'd have such an eventful night involving the fairer sex. "Damn it," he whispered as he made his way back toward the pool table to his friends. 
"There he is!" Bradley called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Big ol' Bob! Did you just give your phone number to not one but two women?"
His wife and Jessica both looked mad now. "I thought you liked Anna," Jessica snapped. "Once we realized she was the redhead from the bookstore, we thought you'd probably end up sneaking off with her or something."
Bob could feel the heat rising in his face. "Come on," he replied, giving Jessica a look. "There's no way that would have happened. And I didn't give that other woman my number. I didn't even want to talk to her." In a softer voice, he added, "She just started touching me for no reason."
Bradley's wife pulled Bob in for a quick hug as she said, "Pretty soon, you'll be as good at dodging them as Bradley is." She looked him in the eye and quietly asked, "Now what happened with Anna?"
"I don't really know." That was his honest answer. "I was excited to see her again. I guess I imagined she vanished in the bookstore like some sort of romanticized Cinderella fairytale or something stupid when in reality she just... kind of got tired of talking to me. She seemed a little uncomfortable when she saw me again tonight, so that must be it."
"I think you're wrong," she said with conviction that almost made Bob believe it himself. "Jess and I will ask her about it next week."
"Please don't," he groaned, shaking his head. "I'm going to go home. See you at D&D tomorrow," he told Jessica before stopping by the bar to pay for the ginger ales, but Penny just waved him on. He left her a ten dollar tip and walked out to his truck. 
It wasn't even that late, and when he parked in front of his duplex, his elderly next door neighbor was still awake with her door propped open for her cat to come back inside. As Bob trudged up the shared walkway with his key in hand, she called out, "Robert! Is that you?"
"Hi, Suzanne," he replied with a laugh. "It's me."
She was sitting on her couch, and he could hear game show reruns playing as she loudly said, "You're home pretty early for a Friday night. Still haven't found a girlfriend?"
Bob groaned. He could kick himself for even mentioning that he wished he had a girlfriend a few weeks ago when he took dinner over for her one Sunday evening. "Still single," he confirmed as he headed for his front door which was all of ten feet away from hers. 
She scoffed, and Bob saw her massive cat, Sylvester, streak back inside. "You must not be trying very hard, Robert. Handsome, strong thing like you."
It was like arguing with his grandma, so he just avoided it completely. "Okay, I saw Sylvester run inside, so I'm going to close your front door. Make sure you lock it before you go to sleep. Good night, Suzanne."
He pulled her door closed for her and then unlocked his, and he walked inside to find his copy of A Room with a View sitting on the coffee table. It seemed to be taunting him like it knew he'd seen the adorable redhead again. And struck out a second time. He was confused and hurt and annoyed, and he just wanted to go to bed and pretend like he wasn't as hopeless as he felt. 
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These babes need to get themselves straightened out! Anna, he thinks you're not into him! Bob, she's scared to admit she is! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 4
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lingerina · 8 months
Text
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐎𝓥𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐈𝓥𝐄 - yu jimin
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␥ karina x fem!reader ␥ 916 words 🚨 choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia (?), praise ␥ you swore to never work for a rideshare app again but getting laid off leaves you no choice. you end up becoming someone’s getaway driver, not realizing you’re in for way more than you bargained for. ␥ A/N inspired by this ask (and reblogs) from ages ago. also could be read as (sort of?) optional bias since i realized i never used her name here. 🧍🏻‍♀️ and it took me this long to write for my bias? 🤪
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You never wanted to go back to Uber but after being laid off and having bills due soon, you had no choice.
You earned the most when you drove around the airport, downtown, and during late-night hours, which were windows to some of the craziest things you’ve previously experienced as a driver. You’ve gotten caught up in a drug deal and bank heist before, which was why you swore to never be an app driver again.
Every ride, you hoped that your passengers were normal law-abiding citizens who just needed a ride to the local market or something. Fortunately, they had been.
Until you made the mistake of driving off with a passenger who wasn’t the one that ordered a ride from you.
She had run up to your car—impressively in heels—and slammed the door shut as if she was being chased, shouting for you to drive off before you even get a chance to confirm you’re picking up the right person. Meeting her sharp eyes in your rear view mirror startled you into stepping on the gas because in the pit of your guts, you were uncertain if you were in harm’s way again and ignoring her might actually put your life on the line.
The ride had been silent, your actual passenger that you’d driven past being one of the only two thoughts crossing your mind after you had hovered a shaky hand over your phone, that’s mounted to the air vent, to cancel her request. You didn’t know where you were driving, and you couldn’t accept any other ride that were popping up on your app. There were more red areas on the map, indicating major activity and hefty tips that you could’ve gotten your hands on had you refused to let the mysterious raven-haired beauty in your car.
She stared out the window for what felt like hours. She didn’t utter a word and you were too afraid to ask questions. You aimlessly drove around, hoping she would finally say something and end this torture.
When she abruptly met eyes with you in the mirror again, you startled.
You tried to break the ice and asked for her destination, but what followed was more silence, a sudden request to park in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, and two-word commands for you to step out and join her in the backseat where she ended up breaking you.
You’re seated on her lap with your back pressed against her chest and her hand wrapped around your throat. Taunting words brush over your ear, inducing a chill that ripples down your spine as three of her fingers are inside you. Your body horribly betrays you as your car echoes with the filthy squelches of your dripping pussy and your cries as she violates you.
Nonetheless, you part your legs wider and buck against her hand, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from your morals dissipating and your desire to be broken burning. With your leggings torn at your crotch and bearing the stains of your pleasure, you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess for a gorgeous stranger who may or may not be dangerous.
She squeezes tighter, her well-manicured nails threatening to pierce the soft skin of your throat, a low praise of ‘good girl’ uttered at the shell of your ear threatening the sliver of sanity you have left. You catch your breath when she releases her grip, which moves down your clavicle to tear at the collar of your tee. She yanks at your bra, unveiling your breast for the palm of her hand, and kneads in tandem with the pace of her fingers.
Your head lolls back over her shoulder, hoarse moans polluting your once-silent vehicle as she fucks you harder. Tension grips at your limbs, your toes curling as her curled digits reach that spot. The spot where you need her most.
“Come on, baby,” she purrs with a sly smirk. “Give it to me.”
You oblige on cue. Your eyes roll back as you soil her hand in the midst of ecstasy, your wetness dirtying her dress, her lap, and the back of the seat. She didn’t spare you mercy before, and she’s definitely not sparing you now.
She toys with you until you think you’ve given her your all. As soon as you fall limp, she slips back inside you and you swiftly ascend to your brink once more, the sensitivity blurring your vision with white dots as you gush all over her. 
She refuses to let you recuperate. Just when you think it’s over, she makes her unwelcome return, her expert fingers repeatedly bringing you to ecstasy like a broken film. She gets off on your tears and pleas because they’re a stark contrast to you squirting all over her and dirtying your car in the process. When she’s had her fill, she shifts you off her lap like a discarded toy and finally steps out without a word, leaving you alone in the abandoned parking lot.
With the silence and post coital clarity setting in, you sit up straight and stare at the mess you made. You don’t need a mirror to know that you do not look presentable to customers at all.
Fortunately, it’s still early in the morning. You can rush home, clean yourself and your car up, and still have a whole day to earn money.
You just hope that you don’t have another potentially dangerous or salacious run-in again.
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hysteria-things · 7 months
Text
SECRET'S OUT (part two)
read part one here
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: nate’s still upset about what happened, but he has to get over it eventually.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, that’s it :)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 657
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: part two yay!
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no beatings took place, thank god.
currently, you’re awkwardly eating lunch at the dining table with nate. it’s been a few days and he has said some words here and there, but he can barely look you in the eyes.
which is understandable, because walking in on your best friend balls deep in your little sister was not a fun sight to see. “how long has it been going on?” he asks out of the blue.
you look up from your plate, seeing him twirl the pasta on his fork. “two months.”
his body tenses, but he nods. “so you guys are just hooking up? no feelings?”
“no,” you say truthfully. that causes nate to finally look up at you, gaining his attention. “we want to start moving along in the relationship phase.”
he’s quiet. you feel bad, but you want to communicate to make amends. it’s silly to have a grudge like this. “you like him.” he doesn’t ask, he says it as a fact.
“i do.”
“does he like you?”
“i sure hope so.” you laugh, trying to brighten the mood. “he’s taking me on an official date tonight to the movies, then he’s coming here.”
“cool.” he sighs. you frown at his dryness, but he notices instantly. “i just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“you know him better than me, nate. tell me, do you think he’ll hurt me at all?”
he shakes his head. “chris is a good best friend.”
“exactly, and you’re a good brother. at least try to talk to him, okay?” you get up from your chair to throw away the paper plate, going over to nate and giving him a hug around the shoulders.
despite the recent events, chris asked you out officially the other night. he told you that nate still hasn’t spoken a word to him, and you want that to change.
“we could’ve taken an uber. i feel bad that you have to drive.” chris says for at least the third time. you smile at him as you park the car in the cinema parking lot. “it’s fine, i promise.” you reply.
you guys walk into the theater, and get your tickets and popcorn (that chris pays for even though you told him not to.)
he has his pinky around yours as you guys walk to the assigned theater the employee tells you to go. “i’m really sorry about nate.” you blurt. “i talked to him at lunch and he seemed… better? i don’t know.”
chris chuckles. “i’m not worried about him. he’ll come around.”
the two of you enter the theater and take your seats. he takes you by surprise with a kiss on the cheek, but you blush anyway. “i swear.” he says, squeezing your hand tighter.
sibling🧍🧍‍♀️
tell chris i want to talk to him when he gets here
nate sent that text when you were driving, and now you and chris are staring at it as you sit in the car in the driveway. “oh boy.” chris exhales and you giggle.
you guys get out of the car and head inside, your brother sitting on the couch watching TV. he turns his head when he hears the door shut.
he pauses the TV and gets up, walking in front of chris. it feels kind of intimidating.
he clears his throat. “i give you my blessing.”
you and chris side-eye each other at the word choice, trying not to laugh. “just don’t be an asshole, and when you guys go hang out upstairs don’t… ew. at least not when i’m in the house.” he pauses to look at your sniggering faces, but he smiles. “please.”
nate extends his hand so chris can take it, and he does. “deal.” chris says.
he lets you be and goes back to watching TV while you start to go upstairs.
chris looks over at you, who’s already looking at him. “told you he’ll come around.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @bernardsgf @ilovechrissturniolosposts @braindead4l @sturnifyed
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w2soneshots · 6 months
Text
Toddler -W2S
words: 0.7k+
warnings: none.
summary: you and Harry enjoy a holiday in Dubai with your toddler.
notes: Currently got major baby fever so here's some dad bog content🤭. Enjoy!💓
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Liked by wroetoshaw and 1,017,349 others
y/username: living the dream☀️🌊 @wroetoshaw
-comments-
gkbarry_: you look incredible get in my bed
-> y/username: 🛏️🏃‍♀️
faithloisak: enjoy my lovelys🫶🏼
taliamar: cutest family ever!🥹💗
y/nfanpage21: I love this sm
user2104853: the third photo is adorable🩵
Over a year and a half ago me and Harry welcomed our little boy into the world. So far it's been incredible and I've enjoyed every minute of being his mum, even through the tough parts his little smile would make the hardships completely disappear in an instant. Harry is also an amazing dad, it's like he was born for the role. A few months ago Harry surprised me with a week long trip to Dubai, and what is our first holiday as a family of three. I was extremely excited and almost immediately called Faith to get advice on what I should pack for Ollie, which is what we ended up naming him.
We arrived two days ago and are already having the best time. Yesterday we spent all day at the beach then went for a nice dinner, in which Ollie slept in his buggy the entire time. Today we're going to the Dubai aquarium, getting some lunch and going shopping. I woke up to the sound of giggling, I pried myself from Harry's grasp and reached forward to grab the smiling baby from his travel cot. I placed him between me and Harry in the bed then drifted back off to sleep. I woke up an hour later, reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone to see a message from Harry saying he'd gone out to grab some breakfast from downstairs. I got up and took a picture of Ollie surrounded by the white fluffy bed sheets.
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y/username just posted a new story!
I quickly got dressed while Ollie slept and Harry soon came back with breakfast. When we were all ready we left the hotel to head to the aquarium. We rented a car the first day we arrived, since Ollie has to sit in a car seat plus we'll be spending much less on Ubers. I drove (since Harry despises driving) and we were soon parked outside.
Harry pulled the exited toddler from his seat, and we headed inside. Ollie seemed to be absolutely mesmerised by the sea creatures (especially the 'big scary sharks'). When we'd walked around the entire aquarium we left to go get some lunch since we were all hungry and Ollie was getting quite restless and in desperate need of a nap. We went back to the car to grab the buggy from the boot then walked to one of the nearby restaurants.
We sat down to eat our lunch as Ollie soundly slept. As me and Harry finished up our food Ollie woke up, now full of energy and hungry. We'd ordered him some plain chips so he ate them along with some fresh fruit. Which they seem to have lots of here, probably because of the hot weather.
Then we paid and made our way to Dubai mall, which thankfully has air conditioning. I happily looked through some shops while Harry followed me with the buggy. "Almost done?" Harry asked, very clearly bored. I turned around and shook my head jokingly "almost." I said with a smile. "M- mummy?" Ollie babbled. "Yes baby?" I replied squatting down in front of him. "I wanna go- the pool." He smiled. Harry chuckled and I glanced up at him "ok, let's go." I said and a look of pure excitement spread across his face.
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y/username: my toddlers new fixation: sharks😂🤍
-comments-
tobjizzle: looks like so much fun! Hope you're having a great time guys❤️
-> y/username: we are ty uncle jizzle💞
faithloisak: so stinking cute🥺
y/nfanpage21: the mum fits are👌🏼
user50172932: those burgers omfg
When we arrived back at the hotel we got straight into our swimming costumes and headed down to the pool. We found some deck chairs and put our things down, then (after smothering Ollie in suncream) all three of us got into the pool.
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y/username just posted a new story!
Later... "I'm so lucky." Harry whispered, as we lay in bed and Ollie lightly snored in his cot. I smiled "you're so cute." He pulled me into a sweet kiss "I mean it, I'm so lucky to have you and Ol, I love you both so much." "And we’re so lucky to have you Haz."
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stylesloveclub · 1 year
Text
sunshine (sneak peak)
In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.
+++
“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!” 
He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.
“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated. 
“Can you drive y/n home?” 
He blinks. “Huh?” 
“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.
“Why?” 
“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.” 
He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes. 
“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.
She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?” 
He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up. 
“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.” 
She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”
“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”
“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza. 
Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.
“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously. 
She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now. 
With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment. 
The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides. 
He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.
Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot. 
They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.
“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes. 
His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly. 
She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump growing in her throat as they drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.
Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”
Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.
+++
COMING THIS SATURDAY 07/22! :) theee long awaited grumpyrry x sunshine virgin fic!!! :) PART 1 AND 2 ARE ALREADY UP ON MY PATREONNNN!!! :) THIS IS NOT A PATREON EXCLUSIVE MEANING ALL OF IT WILL BE POSTED ON TUMBLR, PATREON JUST HAS EARLY ACCESS!!!!! CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST FOR OTHER FICS HOPE U GUYS R EXCITED XOXO
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rad1og1rl · 2 months
Text
About to board some flights , had a lil inspo for my fav Jaybird <3
no tws besides flight anxiety ? unedited.
fluff, pre-established relationship, gn reader, comfort for jason from reader.
Jason didn’t like flying. He hadn’t flown since he went to find his mother, and the trauma which ensued after that didn’t help his anxiety. But you hadn’t seen your parents since you moved to Gotham, and you wanted them to meet your boyfriend of 2 years. They had only spoken to him on the phone.
So you wrestled him into flying to your parent’s lake house in New Hampshire. Only a 2 hour flight, and within the United States. Easy, short and simple. You even took over packing for him, buying everything and anything TSA-approved and measuring every bag for carry-ons.
You went through his closet and held stuff up for him to approve or deny, and rolled everything into a suitcase and stuffed it to the brim. Your stay was two weeks in a guest room, and you wanted to make sure he was as comfortable as possible .
Luckily , your flight was not a red eye for the surprisingly cheap price. You were set to depart at 12:30 PM and arrive around 2:30.
The day of the flight, all packed up and ready to go, you noticed Jason pacing around the living room quietly. “Jay, honey , what’s wrong ?” You asked, lightly treading into the living room and tapping him lightly.
“Just..just nerves. Haven’t flown in a while, y’know?” He says, turning to face you. “It’s okay hon, you should get a drink before we get on. The airport is one of the only places you can day-drink and no one says anything.” You say, laughing. He nods and maintains a frown, and you take his face in your hands and rub your thumbs across his skin lovingly. “Jason, it will be fine.” He sighs and pulls back, nodding and grabbing his suitcase and backpack from the couch. “Seriously , Jason. New Hampshire is nice! There’s not a lot of crime, and lots of nature, and my parents are gonna love you.” You say, keeping your gaze focused on him.
“Oh! Our Uber is here ! We gotta go!” You say, scrambling to grab the matching suitcases and your backpack. You grab Jason’s muscular bicep and drag him out the door, locking it behind you and pushing him towards elevator of your apartment complex.
Upon exiting the elevator doors and arriving in the parking lot, the Uber is parked closely to the sidewalk. The driver pops open the trunk and Jason takes it upon himself to load up the trunk with all the luggage , being mindful of the attached neck pillows on each handle. Jason opens the back door of the car for you and shuts it, joining you on the opposite side and watching the driver start up the car.
The driver pulls away and heads onto the main road, playing music and allowing you to talk to Jason. “I texted my parents that we’re on our way to the airport , and they’re really excited to meet you.” You said, starting the conversation. Jason smiled slightly and grabbed your hand with his larger, calloused one and held it tightly. It was these little things that Jason did to let you know how he felt. Anxious but loved . Excited and nervous and probably more. “It’s okay , Jay. It’s just one flight. And we won’t have to fly anywhere else anytime soon.” You said, running your fingers across some scarring on his knuckles. “And hey, maybe next time, we can drive over. Make it a road trip! See some roadside attractions or something. Wouldn’t that be fun?” You add, smiling at the idea. Jason takes a liking to it as well, evident by his grin.
“Yeah, y’know I’d love that.” He said, grinning. “We could rent a van, and drive through national parks. Oh! And imagine reading a book overlooking beautiful lakes and scenery. That’s what we’ll do next visit. We’ll drive!” You say, cheerfully which seems to loosen Jason up slightly.
The car pulls up into the assigned gate, and Jason steps out first, opening up your door and taking your hand to pull you out. You thank the Uber and tip him on the app, and Jason pulls all the luggage out of the trunk, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and holding yours until you take it from him after putting your phone away. You bid the Uber farewell and grab your suitcase handle from Jason, and you trudge forward into the bustling Gotham airport.
You pull up the boarding passes on your phone and head straight for TSA, looking back to make sure Jason was following. He trails behind with a nervous tick on his face, which looked more aggressive due to his overall appearance. You hoped he would loosen up once you got him something at a bar.
Passing through TSA and it’s miserable lines, you drag Jason with you to your assigned gate and look around for a bar, quickly spotting one and beelining for it. Jason orders a gin and tonic, and you push him to sit down near the gate. 1 hour till the flight, and you both are okay. Travel-size bottles, clear bags for liquids , and you’re 85% sure you didn’t overpack. You’re okay. Jason seems okay too, nursing his drink while taking in the surroundings.
“Jay, you don’t need to be in vigilante mode right now. Literally nothing gets through TSA. This is a vacation, not a mission.” You said, sighing as you watch him survey the area suspiciously. “Sorry… just… a force of habit, y’know ? Always alert.” He says, downing the rest of his drink in a quick gulp.
“I packed you a book in your backpack by the way,” You start, glancing at him. “It’s called ‘East of Eden’, by John Steinbeck. I think it’s American classic literature…. it’s supposed to be a retelling of the book of Genesis. It was on sale at Barnes & Nobles so…..” You trail off, gauging his expression. He nods and taps his large fingers on his dark jeans, one finger at a time. “It’s for the flight , and our downtime at the house. There’s probably not movies on the flight because they usually only have that for long haul flights. Maybe one day we can take a long haul flight ? Just once, to … I don’t know , Ireland ? London? Where would you want to go?”
He glances at you and cracks the smallest smile, and nods before reaching for your waist, grabbing it with his rough, large hands and hugging you, leaning his head in the crook of your neck. “Ya know I’d go anywhere as long as it’s with you. But Ireland …. doesn’t sound half bad.” You smile at his admission and hug him back, glancing at the tv detailing the time. You’d be boarding in 10 minutes, one group at a time. You were group 4.
10 minutes of future travel plans, and you grab Jason’s hand to stroll on over to the boarding station. You scan your boarding passes once more and end up as seats 26 E & F . Jason takes your suitcase and hauls it up into the overhead compartment , his following suit. Ever the gentleman, he helps an old woman with hers as well , storing it for her and then following you to your assigned seats, sliding your backpacks under the seats in front of you. You then motion for him to take the window seat.
He looks like he isn’t exactly fond of the idea, but obliges. You scoot in next to him and immediately yank up the arm rest, wanting to be as near to him as possible. You lean against him and hold his hand and wait for the other passengers to board, enjoying the bustling atmosphere of the airplane filling up.
When everyone is seated, and the plane starts rolling down the runway, you feel Jason’s hand in your own tense up, and you squeeze it reassuringly.
You glance at him, as he looks out the window and then back at you, and the plane prepares for takeoff .
“You ready?” You ask.
He squeezes your hand back, “Ready.”
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seiya-starsniper · 1 month
Note
I wish you would write a fic where...
…Hob is a little insecure about his body in comparison to Dream. Dream is wondering why his love only wants to have sex in the dark…
I need some hurt/comfort 🥹
Oh man friend, I started writing this thinking it wouldn't be super long and then 9.7k words later...😅
Still gonna post the whole thing on tumblr since this IS a tumblr prompt, but it's probably best read on AO3 for length reasons lmao. I hope you enjoy this angst train!
Cruel Summer - AO3
Also tagging @dreamlingbingo as I'm using this fill for my free space!
-----------------
The first time it happens, Dream doesn't think too much about it. There's not a lot of thinking going on period, not really. Dream's only focused on the touch and taste and feel of Hob Gadling’s body against his as they drunkenly make out against the latter’s front door.
They’d been out tonight celebrating with their friends, all of them having finally achieved some hard earned life goal. Matthew and Jessamy were engaged, and planning a marriage out on Cape Cod the following summer, Lucienne had gotten promoted as an archivist at Harvard, Mervyn had finally launched his own cybersecurity firm, and Dream had just signed a publishing deal for the novel he’d been working on for the past two years. His editing team was even based out of Boston, even if their main headquarters was in New York, which made Dream’s life much easier. 
Hob…well. Hob’s celebration was more muted than the rest. He’d just landed a job at Harvard as well, working as a professor, so he and Lucienne were now technically coworkers. And while it was a fantastic opportunity with decent pay, and mostly free summers, it had come at the cost of his relationship with Eleanor, his longtime girlfriend. 
Eleanor had accepted a job across the country working as a marketing lead for a lifestyle clothing brand based out of Seattle. She’d wanted the position more than anything, but Hob hadn’t wanted to move, so they broke up. Hob insists it was all amicable, and that he’d miss everyone too much if he’d actually left, but they all knew Hob had been thinking about proposing.
Dream knows all this, and yet, when it had just been the two of the left at the bar and Hob had started openly flirting with him alone, instead of just playfully flirting with every single one of their friends, Dream had decided, “why not”, and matched the other man’s energy until they were suddenly making out just outside the bar while they waited for the Uber Hob called for them. It’s still the beginning of summer and not terribly hot outside, but Dream’s still grateful for the cool AC of the car that eventually comes to get them to drive the short distance back to Hob’s apartment.
When Hob finally unlocks the door and they practically fall into the front hall, Dream messily kicks off his shoes and works his way towards undoing Hob’s belt in between kisses. Hob wrangles them down the hall and towards his bedroom and Dream thinks vaguely about turning on the lights when they finally cross the threshold. But then Hob pushes him down into the mattress and Dream stops thinking about anything at all. 
-----------------
The second time that it happens, a little over a month later, Dream is helping Hob clean up his apartment after their monthly movie night with their friends. They had all decided on rewatching Jurassic Park after Mervyn and Lucienne had gotten into a debate on whether or not dinosaurs looked stupid with or without feathers. But it had taken the group some time for them to even start the movie, since they had mostly gotten wrapped up with different bits of work and life gossip. It was rare that they were all able to get together like this, so the movie was a secondary concern for them.
During the movie, however, Matthew and Jessamy’s wedding planner called them about something that needed their attention immediately, and though they said it was fine to keep the movie running, they’d paused it anyways. Not even ten minutes after they wrapped up their call, Mervyn had to take a work call from a client suffering from some server issues. 
Needless to say, it was nearly midnight by the time they finished the movie, and since only Dream and Hob had nothing to do the next morning, Dream had offered to stay late to help clean up and then crash on Hob’s couch for the night.
That is, at least, the story they tell their friends. The dishes and the food end up abandoned as Hob pushes Dream into the couch cushions and palms his cock through his black jeans. Dream moans and ruts beneath the other man, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling Hob in for a desperate, filthy kiss. They make out like teenagers for what seems like hours, the taste of buttery popcorn and overly sweet margarita mix mingled in every kiss. Dream isn’t nearly as drunk as he was that first night, but he’s got a pleasant buzz going, which really only adds to the whole illicit nature of what they’re doing. Neither of them had mentioned the first time they’d fucked to any of their friends, they’d barely talked about just between the two of them, really. 
Dream had figured maybe they could talk about it tonight after everyone had gone home but well. He’d gotten distracted with Hob’s mouth.
When they finally move from the couch to the bedroom, Dream turns the lights on, but then Hob turns them right back off as Dream’s getting undressed. 
“Are you one of those people who prefers to have sex in the dark?” Dream asks, laughing as Hob crawls on top of him, shedding his shirt and underwear along the way. 
“Mmmm,” Hob says, putting his mouth on Dream’s neck instead of answering the question. Dream gasps as the other man bites down on that one sensitive spot just below his ear. “Don’t wanna get up later to turn them off.”
Dream hums, and that’s the end of that conversation as his mind floats away to far more interesting pursuits.
-----------------
The third time almost feels like a date. Almost. They don’t exactly plan to get together, just the two of them, it just sort of happens because Matthew had gotten sick, and Jessamy hadn’t wanted to leave him alone to fend for himself. She also wasn’t entirely sure if she was contagious herself and wanted to be safe. Mervyn was on call for a client this weekend so he wasn’t going out with them anyways, and Lucienne had decided she’d rather stay at home and catch up on some of her backlogged work rather than attend the Oktoberfest event they’d all bought tickets to. 
Hob had texted Dream individually and suggested they go out anyway, just the two of them, and Dream’s heart had stuttered in his chest when he’d read the message. Hob had suggested a new restaurant that had opened up near his apartment, and while it wasn’t necessarily a first date sort of place, it was still a bit nicer than any of the places they’d go with their friends for just drinks or a quick bite to eat. 
Dream agonizes for over an hour on what he should wear, before he ultimately defaults to what feels most natural to him, black jeans and a solid black polo instead of his usual band t-shirt, which he then pairs with a charcoal gray blazer, just to look a little nicer. But not too nice, just in case this isn’t a date. 
Hob, much to Dream’s disappointment, is in his regular outfit of a graphic tee and sweats when Dream arrives. He’s not terribly out of place in the restaurant, but he’s clearly not dressed to impress. He eyes Dream very appreciatively though, and doesn’t comment on why Dream’s a little more dressed up than usual. What he does do, however, is spend the evening whispering into Dream’s ear about how he’d like to peel that blazer off Dream and make him wear it while they fuck.
They only make it through a single round of drinks before they leave, with Hob leaving their server behind a more than generous tip for wrapping up their bill so quickly. 
Hob wastes no time divesting Dream of his blazer and tossing it down the hallway towards the bedroom before turning his attention back to kissing Dream senseless. He sinks to his knees and Dream moans as the other man then works at peeling his jeans off so he can blow Dream right in the front hall, up against the front door where anyone can walk by and hear. It makes everything that much hotter.
Later, when all Dream is left wearing is his blazer and nothing else, Hob gets up from where they’re kissing on the bed to turn off the lights and Dream frowns.
“You can just leave the lights on,” Dream says, before he coyly spreads his legs and shows off his best seductive pose to tempt Hob back to bed. Hob stares, transfixed at Dream’s posturing, before he huffs and then clicks off the lights anyways. Dream groans in annoyance and Hob laughs before he kisses Dream again.
“Sorry, just easier with the lights off,” Hob says, not sounding sorry at all. “Don’t worry about it too much.”
But Dream does worry. He doesn’t in the moment, but he does later, when they’re lying beside each other, Hob snoring away while Dream thinks and thinks and thinks. He thinks about how Hob always wants the lights off, and how he never cuddles with Dream after sex. He thinks about how they really only ever get together when it's convenient, but they've never made plans on their own, at least, not since Hob and Eleanor have broken up. 
Dream realizes, with a growing dread, that maybe Hob still isn't over Eleanor, that maybe all there is between them is sex, and nothing else. It makes an awful sort of sense; in the dark, Dream can't tell if Hob’s thinking about someone else, hoping for someone that's not Dream. Eleanor and Dream couldn't be anymore different but that hardly matters to a man with a broken heart. A warm body is a warm body after all, and Dream's the only other single person in their friend group.
If Hob's a little bit confused as to why Dream is a bit short with him in the morning he doesn't show it. Somehow that makes the pit in Dream's stomach worse.
-----------------
The fourth time—there isn’t a fourth time because Dream fucks it all up.
Dream had met with his publisher earlier in the day, and the meeting had gone rather…poorly. His editor had straight up told him that he’d needed to make significant changes to the book, and Dream had argued until he was hoarse but to no avail. He’d then been told to go home and sleep on things, effectively being dismissed like a petulant child who’d thrown a tantrum in public.
Dream knew he had a good story. He also knew that some of the suggested changes were good ones, while others would fundamentally change the story he was trying to tell. But still, the sheer amount of changes had overwhelmed him, and Dream had lost his temper. He already knows, with a growing dread, that he’ll have to make some apologies the next day.
He’s about to go home, but Dream decides instead he’d like to get as drunk as humanly possible to wash the bitter taste of the day from his mind. He texts the group chat, and since it’s a Friday night, they all respond with enthusiasm to blow off some steam for the weekend. Everyone except for Hob, who says he’s not feeling like socializing tonight, but he’s sorry Dream had such a shitty day. 
Dream tries not to be disappointed that Hob won’t show up. He wonders if he’d just invited Hob by himself, instead of texting their group, would he have come out, just for Dream? But they don’t do things like that, even with how long they’ve been friends. Before they started sleeping together, Hob and Dream had always just sort of existed together in the same circle of friends. Dream had actually met Eleanor first, and Hob only when they started dating. Dream has never spent any amount of alone time with Hob before now, and he still doesn’t know what sort of relationship they even have, if any at all. 
Dream’s worries leave his mind when the others show up. Mervyn stays for only one round of drinks, and Matthew and Jessamy only two before they head out for the evening. They have an early appointment with the planner the next day to do some cake tastings. Lucienne stays the longest, though she really only nurses the same glass of wine the entire night. She talks Dream through his frustrations with his editors, and his overall story. She’s been with him every step of the way to getting this publishing deal, and Dream hasn’t told her yet, but she’s going to be the front page of his acknowledgements. 
He’s so tempted to unload on her about Hob as well, but before he can gather the courage to broach the subject, she gets a text from someone and blushes furiously when she reads it. Dream pokes and prods until she admits she’s started seeing someone. Johanna. She’s not sure if it’s serious yet but well. They’re definitely physically compatible, and while she won’t show Dream her phone, he already knows she’s been sent something particularly provocative. So Dream lets her go, and then debates between ordering another drink or going home. 
He does neither of those things, and instead pulls out his phone and texts Hob, outside their group chat. The alcohol has more than loosened Dream’s inhibitions and right now, he’s lonely and horny. Lucienne’s reserved but still elated expression as she had happily explained Johanna had made Dream miss Hob. So he texts the other man and tells him he’d like to come over.
Hob’s response isn’t what he’s hoping for: are you drunk?
Dream frowns at his phone and then his initial message: aree tou busy?? Can i comeocer?
Okay, maybe he was a little more drunk than he realized. He asks Hob if it matters, being careful this time to make sure he types everything out carefully, and then closes out his tab while he waits for a response. Nothing comes. Dream’s annoyed and disappointed, but not surprised, so he starts to make his way to the train platform to head home. 
While he’s waiting, he finally gets a response back from Hob: okay. come over.
Dream changes platforms immediately and heads in the direction of Hob’s apartment. 
When he arrives, Hob pushes a glass of water towards him, which Dream drinks down greedily. When he’s done, he joins Hob on the couch and crawls into his lap to kiss him, but Hob pushes him away after only a few moments. Dream lets out an annoyed noise when Hob does it again. 
“Dream, not tonight,” Hob says, pushing him away when Dream tries to kiss him again.
“What do you mean?” Dream asks, now confused. 
“I don’t want to have sex right now,” Hob replies, before he pushes Dream off of him and back onto the couch, going back to watching whatever crime drama he’d had on before Dream arrived.
Dream stares, open mouthed and hurt, as Hob decidedly ignores him for Netflix. He gets up angrily and stomps around the kitchen, tearing open the cabinets looking for something to eat, and also more water because now he has a pounding headache as his body struggles to sober up now that he’s no longer drinking. 
“Dream!” Hob exclaims, getting up when Dream slams more than one cabinet door closed. “Come on, don’t be like this.”
“Like what?” Dream sneers, stuffing a potato chip into his mouth angrily. “I came all this way just to fuck you, didn’t I?”
“You’re drunk,” Hob points out.
“I’m always drunk when we have sex,” Dream argues, crossing his arms, chip bag still in hand. “You’ve never had a problem with it before.” 
“Yeah well, I’m not drunk now, and I’m also not in the mood,” Hob replies angrily. 
“Then why the hell did you invite me over?” Dream growls. 
“I don’t know!” Hob exclaims, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I wasn’t thinking, obviously,” he adds, then gestures to Dream. “How was I supposed to know you’d be like this?”
Dream huffs, then carelessly tosses the bag of chips onto the counter. A few stray chips scatter across the counter, but Dream doesn’t care. Clearly Hob didn’t want him around, not for sex, and definitely not to comfort Dream after the awful day he’d had, so there was no point in staying. 
“Fine, I’ll go,” Dream says, moving towards the door where he’d kicked off his shoes. He decides he’ll check the train times on the walk over.
“Dream,” Hob says, grabbing his arm before he can make it to the hallway. “It’s late. Come on. Let’s go to sleep.”
“I can get home on my own just fine,” Dream argues, raising his chin defiantly.
“No,” Hob replies, his voice stern as he grips Dream’s arm tighter. “Come on, let’s just go to bed. You need to sleep this off.”
“I can sleep on the couch,” Dream says, yanking his arm out of Hob’s grip. “Since you’re not interested in fucking my bad day out of me.”
“Dream, stop being so fucking difficult!” Hob yells, shocking both of them.
The echo of Hob’s roar hangs tensely between them, and Hob steps back from Dream with a hand over his mouth, clearly horrified at what he’s done. Dream also feels the prick of tears in his eyes as he processes just how angry Hob actually has been with him all night. 
How the hell had this night gotten worse? Dream doesn’t know, but what he does know is that he needs to leave before he starts drunkenly crying in Hob’s apartment, and Hob is the last person Dream wants to see him like this. 
Dream tries making his way towards the door again, but Hob seems to regain his senses and physically blocks him. Dream tries to push him, then tries to hit Hob’s shoulder to make him move, but Hob grabs Dream’s wrist to stop him. 
“I’m sorry,” Hob says, his voice much softer this time, laced with regret and pity. Dream hates it. “I lost my temper, I shouldn’t have done that,” he adds.
“Fuck off!” Dream yells, and oh. No. No, no, no, no. Dream furiously blinks back the tears before they can start falling, even if he can’t stop the pained hiccups that betray his emotional state from leaving his mouth.
“Just—” Dream gasps, then forces himself to breathe, slow and deep, and then counts to five. “Let me go home. You don’t—” his breath hitches again, cutting off what he wants to say. Fuck. He couldn’t even string together a full sentence if he tried.
“Dream, please,” Hob replies, his voice practically begging now. “Don’t leave. I don’t want you going home alone like this.” Dream turns to meet Hob eyes, and his anger dissipates slightly when he sees how devastated Hob looks. 
Despite how awful Dream feels, even he knows it’d be a mistake to go home in his current state. He’s highly emotional, drunk, and likely wouldn’t be paying attention to his surroundings. He could get mugged, or worse. 
“Fine,” Dream finally relents. Hob lets out a sigh of relief, and hugs him. Dream doesn’t hug him back. He’s still angry after all. 
But Dream lets Hob wrangle him down the hall to the bedroom, and then he strips down to his underwear to sleep, since he doesn’t have any of his own clothes here. And why would he? It’s not like they’re anything other than an occasional hookup after all. 
Hob does offer Dream a shirt and pajama pants to wear, but Dream tosses them away from him without so much as a second glance. Hob sighs at Dream, and then shuts off the lights, turning away from Dream without another word to sleep. He’s clearly still frustrated with Dream too.  
Dream lies there next to Hob, feeling cold and rejected and lonely. He hates everything about this. Hates that Hob let him come over and make a fool out of himself when he could have easily just told Dream to fuck off and go home instead. Hates that Hob even came onto him in the first place, all those months ago, and now they’re here, in this weird in-between state where they're together but not together. 
Dream realizes too late that he really hadn’t cared if they had sex or not either. He’d wanted comfort more than anything, comfort from Hob specifically. But the only comfort he knew that came from Hob was sex. And that’s the worst part of it. Dream knows now, without a doubt, that he has feelings for Hob. That he wants more out of this than what they’re doing now, but he’s not sure Hob does. At this point, he’s too afraid to ask. 
Hob’s bedroom suddenly feels like a suffocating prison as all of Dream’s feelings hit him at once. He’s going to cry again if he stays, and he really doesn’t want Hob to see him like this. He doesn’t want Hob to know just how badly he’s gotten under Dream’s skin. 
Dream realizes he needs to leave. He’s stone cold sober now, having laid here in the dark with nothing but his thoughts and his third glass of water now emptied on the bedside table. He listens carefully for the evening out of Hob’s breath, then shuffles around in bed to see if any of his movements disturb the other man. When he’s certain that Hob is deep in sleep, Dream hurriedly dresses himself, checks to see that there’s still trains running this late at night, and then rushes out when he sees the next one is in just 15 minutes. Hob lives about 12 minutes from the nearest station. Dream can make it if he runs. 
The front door slams loudly behind him as he leaves, but Dream doesn’t care. Hob probably won’t even notice that he’s gone. 
Dream makes it to the station just as the train is pulling into the stop. As he’s getting on, he hears yelling and frantic running, the sounds of someone about to miss the train.  Dream considers holding the doors until he sees just who's rushing towards the train.
It's Hob. Hob who is barely dressed, and running down the steps to the train platform in nothing but sweatpants and slippers. He catches Dream's eyes and waves frantically to get his attention. Dream’s heart flutters momentarily, and he imagines that maybe he was wrong about everything after all. That maybe there’s more to what’s been happening between them than just rebound sex.
Dream gets on the train anyways, and the doors shut just as Hob reaches the platform, and the train pulls away. 
-----------------
They pretend like nothing is wrong after that night. Hob had texted Dream the next morning to ask if he’d gotten home okay, and Dream had left him on read. He had far more important things to worry about that morning, like his pounding headache and the fact that he needed to talk to his editor at some point.
When he finally fights off the last of his hangover, Dream has a much more pleasant conversation with his editing team, who he apologizes to for losing his temper. His team apologizes to him as well, which he doesn’t expect, but they reassure him it’s their job to encourage him, not discourage him from writing. They have a candid conversation about communication, and then agree on a plan to move forward with his book.
Dream happily shares the good news with his group chat, still ignoring the direct message from Hob. He credits Lucienne for talking him off the ledge the night before, and the flood of positive and congratulatory messages flows easily after that. Even from Hob. 
Dream sighs when he reads the other man’s message in their group chat, then flips back to their private conversation. He really should apologize for his behavior as well, but he has no idea how to explain himself without revealing more than he’s comfortable with. So Dream turns off his phone, and goes back to working on his novel, hoping that maybe he’ll come up with something to say later in the evening.
He never does end up replying. Hob doesn’t privately message him either after that.
-----------------
It’s trivia night at the White Horse, and Dream would normally be excited to go and show off his arcane knowledge, but tonight he’s dreading the occasion. It’s been a month since he and Hob had last seen each other and he really has no idea how he’s supposed to act around the other man. Do they pretend like nothing ever happened between them? They haven’t spoken since, so things were clearly over between them. 
Dream’s still trying to tell himself it’s better this way. They were hurtling towards disaster, and Dream should’ve really known better, should’ve known that he really can’t do casual after all, and now he’s probably permanently fucked up his friendship with Hob because he couldn’t keep his own feelings in check. He still hasn’t apologized, he doesn’t know if Hob even wants an apology from him at this point, or if he just wants to forget about everything that ever happened between them. 
So when Dream’s sister texts him and tells him she’s in town for a few days, Dream jumps at the opportunity to meet her and cancel on trivia night plans. He receives a variety of boos and ‘we’ll lose without you!’ responses, all of which make him smile despite himself. Even Hob laments the loss of Dream’s knowledge for the evening. 
When Dream arrives at The New Inn later that night, it’s not only his sister that greets him. Eleanor is with her. Dream hasn’t seen her since she and Hob broke up. When she’d moved across the country, she left the group chat and hasn’t really talked to anyone since. Dream had missed her, if he were being honest with himself. Even though Hob had said the breakup was amicable, and that Eleanor had only left the chat because she couldn’t be part of their plans any longer, Dream was still sad to see her go. He realizes he could’ve tried harder to keep in touch with her, but then everything with Hob had happened and well.
Dream wants to hug Eleanor and also scream at her. Wants to unload what a horrible last month he’s had, and also wants her to never find out he’d been sleeping with her ex. It’s not her fault that Dream fell into bed with Hob knowing he wasn’t over his relationship with her yet. It’s entirely her fault for being so perfect, however, that there’s no way Dream could ever compare, and that’s why Hob won’t look at him when they have sex. 
When they had sex. Dream and Hob have barely spoken since that night, and only in their group chat. He’s pretty sure Hob doesn’t want to even be in the same room as Dream right now, for how ugly Dream had acted over what was supposed to be just a casual hookup.
“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, Ellie,” Dream says, giving both her and his sister a hug before taking a seat across from them. “But what are you doing back in town?”
“Dream—” Didi starts, but then Eleanor places a hand on her shoulder and stops her.
“We’re dating,” Eleanor says bluntly, moving her hand from Didi’s shoulder down to her hand. Their fingers interlace and Dream’s eyes boggle as he looks between them, shocked.
“When did this happen?” he asks, settling himself in for what must be an extremely interesting story.
Eleanor and Didi take turns recalling the story of how they met through a local meetup for knitters in Seattle, and how Didi had recognized Eleanor from one time she’d come out drinking with Dream and his friends years ago. Happy to have a familiar face, Didi and Eleanor had become fast friends, and they both realized they had a lot in common too.
Before either of them knew it, Eleanor was inviting Didi out everywhere as they explored their new city together, and Didi became accustomed to calling Eleanor after every shift at the hospital. One thing led to another, and then another, and now they’re practically attached at the hip. Didi even shyly admits they’ve talked about moving in together. 
The two of them beam at him when they’re done with their story and Dream wants to congratulate them. Wants to be happy that his favorite sister is dating one of his oldest friends. He wants to make plans to visit them in their new home, maybe even help them move if he can work out the logistics. He hasn’t been out to Seattle in some time, and he really could use a vacation.
“I started sleeping with Hob after you left,” is what Dream says instead. 
Eleanor spits her (thankfully white) wine all over Didi, who freezes in place, staring at Dream in shock. Dream stares back, horrified both at what he just said, and what followed after. He braces himself, expecting Eleanor to explode on him, to call him a slut, a bad friend, a terrible human being.
Instead, Eleanor starts laughing. Didi does too eventually.  
“Oh my god, of course he did,” Eleanor wheezes as she doubles over in her seat. Their server rushes over, bringing some extra napkins and Didi excuses herself to the restroom to wipe off the rest of the wine. Dream and Eleanor are left staring at one another in silence, before Eleanor breaks the tension with another giggle.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I’m not laughing at you, really, just the whole situation. Imagine if you brought Hob with you tonight?” she practically squeals.
“I—you’re not mad?” Dream asks, more shocked than anything. Eleanor just shrugs and drinks from her water glass this time, instead of her wine.
“I mean, did Hob at least wait a day before he tried to make a move on you?” Eleanor asks. “Not that it matters really, we were broken up before I left but well, you know. Respectful turnaround time and all that.”
“I—” Dream stutters, trying desperately to recall when that first time with Hob actually happened. “I mean, I think it was a few weeks after you left?”
Eleanor snorts. “Good enough, I guess.” 
“Sorry,” Dream says, shaking his head as Didi returns and sits back down next to Eleanor. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around this. Did you know he wanted to—?”
“Oh no, no,” Eleanor says then starts laughing again. “Our breakup wasn’t planned or anything, don’t worry. It’s just that, well. He told me he wanted to stay with you guys more than me, so I’m not that surprised?”
“What?” Dream says, dumbly. “But you both said the breakup was mutual.” Eleanor sighs.
“I mean,” she replies. “It was technically mutual. But Hob wanted to stay in Boston, and I didn’t. And one of our last arguments before I left was about abandoning our friends.” She shrugs again. “I love you all, don’t get me wrong, but I really love living out in Seattle more. Especially the company.” She smiles at Didi, who kisses her on the cheek. “It kind of sucked that Hob really didn’t want to move, but it wouldn’t have been fair to ask him to do it all just for me and my career goals.”
“Oh,” Dream says dumbly. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Dream wouldn’t have wanted to leave Boston for any reason either, so it makes sense, he thinks. Boston is just that. It’s home.
“It’ll make double dating a little weird, though,” Eleanor adds, and Didi laughs. 
“I think we’ll be fine though,” Didi adds, then turns her focus to Dream. “So tell us about you and Hob,” she says.  
“I—we’re not,” Dream stammers, unsure of how to proceed further with the conversation. Eleanor and Didi’s expressions both fall.
“Oh, Dream,” Didi says, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“It’s fine,” Dream says though he feels anything but. “I don’t—it didn’t last long between us,” he admits. 
“Wow, he fumbled the bag on you?” Eleanor interjects, shock clearly painted on her face. “My god, he really is an idiot.”
“No I—we had a fight,” Dream says, unsure of why he feels the need to clarify. “It was my fault really. I shouldn’t have—he wasn’t ready to commit.” 
Eleanor makes a confused face. 
“That—doesn’t sound like Hob,” Eleanor says after a moment, and Dream huffs in annoyance.
“You only knew him while you were dating, how would you know that?” Dream retorts.
“Because he told me he’s never done casual,” Eleanor replies. “When we first started seeing each other, he basically said just that. That’s what I liked about him, he wanted to do the whole commitment thing right away, even if it didn’t end up working out.”
“Well maybe he’s changed,” Dream says, far more grumpily than he intended. “He’s never said shit to me about anything, and still hasn’t, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Dream,” Didi says gently, squeezing his hand. “Are you okay?”
“It’s fine,” Dream insists, not wanting to go into the details of how he’d terribly fucked up his situation with Hob. 
“You don’t sound fine at all,” Didi replies.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have this conversation at dinner though?” Eleanor interjects, looking concernedly at him. Dream huffs and then pouts. Eleanor was always hyper attuned to when people were upset, especially Dream.
But Dream does want to talk about it, even if it is a bit awkward, all things considered. Eleanor seems to at least be willing to hear Dream out, if nothing else. 
They wrap up their bill quickly, taking some of their dinner to go, and find their way over to Dream’s apartment, where he spends the rest of the night wrapped up in a blanket while he recounts the past six months to his sister and Eleanor. There’s also, perhaps, a lot of wine involved. Solely because Eleanor had decided it was also girls night and they needed a lot of wine for a proper one.
“I’m going to murder him myself,” Eleanor says, holding up her bottle of wine when Dream finishes telling her everything that had happened up until now. 
“El, no,” Dream whines. He’s really more embarrassed about the whole situation now than anything. Talking things over with the two of them had really helped, and Dream wonders if he should’ve talked to Lucienne, or even Jessamy and Matthew to start. Maybe he wouldn’t have let things go so far the way they did between him and Hob.
“Nah, he deserves it,” Eleanor replies, taking another swig from her bottle. 
“It’s really my fault,” Dream tries to insist, knowing it’s useless to defend Hob to his own ex. “I knew he wasn’t over you and I—”
“No, Dream, listen to me,” Eleanor says, taking Dream’s face in her hands. “He never—” she turns away from him suddenly and then burps. Dream laughs, despite himself. 
“He never what?” Dream asks when Eleanor turns back to face him. She sighs.
“He never told you why he turns off the lights, and that’s on him,” Eleanor tells him. 
“I—what?” Dream says dumbly. Hob turned off the lights with Eleanor too?
“Yeah, he—” Eleanor hiccups and then starts giggling. She releases Dream’s face and then falls back onto Didi, who’s sitting behind her on the couch. “He’s sensitive, you know? About—” she gestures at her front, “All the hair he has. Hates it when people see it. I think we had sex with the lights on like, twice, at most.” She pauses and then regards Dream, her expression sombering. “I thought you knew.”
“Why would I know that?” Dream asks, dumfounded. Hob had never given any indicator that he was sensitive about any part of his body, and no one in their friend group had ever commented on it.
“Because,” Eleanor replies, gesturing wildly. “Think about it. Whenever we went to the beach or anything together, did you ever see him take his shirt off? Or at the pool at Matthew and Jessamy’s place?”
“I—” Dream filters through his memory, which is an especially difficult task considering how drunk they are. He realizes that Eleanor’s right. 
“Shit.” Dream groans. “I think I fucked up.”
“No, no, he did,” Eleanor insists. “I always told him I didn’t mind all the hair,” she adds then sighs. “I mean it’s a lot, but it never bothered me, you know?”
“It’s never bothered me either,” Dream admits. He’d rather liked the differences in their bodies actually. Hob was broad where Dream was lanky, naturally tan and sunkissed where Dream was pale. Dream had never had an opinion on chest hair before, what little hair he’d had it was so fine and thin that his chest looked bare anyways. But Eleanor was right. Dream had never really seen Hob casually uncovered. And while he was always eager to undress Dream when the lights were still on, Hob almost never fully undressed himself until after he’d shut them off. 
It seems so obvious now, in retrospect. But Dream had been caught up in his own insecurities to really notice that Hob had any of his own to address.
“I honestly thought he didn’t want to look at me when he turned off the lights,” Dream confesses. “That maybe he was hoping he could pretend I was someone else in the dark.”
“Okay, I’m with my girlfriend,” Didi says suddenly, a murderous look in her eyes. “I’m a doctor, I can make it look like an accident,” she adds, holding up her weird hand mixed cocktail that has hot sauce in it. 
“Didi!” Dream exclaims. “No murder,” he orders, then laughs at the absurdity of the entire situation. They all start laughing, and Dream feels something unwind in his chest when they do. He thinks about texting Hob, but ultimately decides against it. What he wants to tell him, he wants to do it sober, and in person. 
Dream wakes up the next morning extremely hungover, and orders breakfast for delivery. Didi and Eleanor try to insist on paying him back, but he waves away their money, and tells them they can buy him dinner when he flies out to see them move. They both hug him fiercely on their way out and make him promise to see them at least one more time before they fly back to Seattle.
-----------------
A week after his conversation with his sister and Eleanor, Dream is outside Hob’s apartment door, pacing nervously as he rehearses everything he wants to say to Hob. His apology. His request to start things over, if Hob still wants to try. How he’s really been feeling about their whole not-relationship status.
Really, he’s just stalling knocking on Hob’s door. What if Hob doesn’t answer when he sees it’s Dream? What if he tells Dream to go away without even hearing him out? What if—
Dream groans and then mentally slaps himself. He needs to stop worrying himself unnecessarily. Either Hob will want to hear him out or he won’t. But Dream needs to at least try.
He’s about to raise his hand to finally knock on the door, when suddenly he hears Hob’s voice, distinctly from not inside the apartment. 
“Dream?” Hob asks. Dream turns in the direction of his voice and finds Hob standing at the end of the hall, groceries in hand. Dream realizes he’s been an idiot standing in front of a completely empty apartment. 
“Hi,” Dream says, every rehearsed speech and romantic gesture he’d just been rehearsing evaporating from his mind like wisps of smoke.
“Hi,” Hob replies, his voice flat. He looks tired, but not angry at least, to see Dream. “Did you need something?” he asks as he walks slowly towards his front door, eyeing Dream a little suspiciously. Dream can’t really blame him. Their last interaction had ended rather poorly.
“I—can we talk?” Dream asks, stepping aside so Hob can put his key in the lock. Hob sighs and his shoulders droop, like he’s been dreading this exact situation. 
“Sure,” Hob replies, putting on a fake cheerful demeanor as he opens the door to let himself and Dream in. 
“Do you need help with anything?” Dream asks, trailing Hob towards the kitchen. 
“If you want,” Hob replies, setting the groceries down onto the counter. But before Dream can start unpacking anything, he sighs again and groans. 
“Actually, Dream,” Hob says, turning around and facing him head on. “Let’s just talk now.” 
“Uhm—okay,” Dream replies, now feeling incredibly nervous. Hob looks at him expectantly, crossing his arms as he waits for Dream to gather his thoughts. 
Finally, Dream says, “I wanted to say I’m sorry. About everything that happened last time I was here.”
His apology seems to surprise Hob, who suddenly straightens up from his leaning position against the counter.
“Oh,” Hob replies, sounding dumbstruck. “I—I’m sorry too,” he offers, uncrossing his arms and running a hand through his hair. Dream realizes it’s longer than the last time he’d seen it. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper at you that night.”
“To be fair, I was being an ass,” Dream admits, even though it pains him to do so.  
“Yeah but you had a reason to be,” Hob says. “I was just feeling sorry for myself for no reason and I took it out on you.”
“I still took my shitty day out on you,” Dream replies, shrugging. “So I guess we were both not at our best that night.”
“I guess not,” Hob accepts, with a small smile. “We’re okay then?”
Dream nods. “Yes,” he says, offering a small smile himself, then stepping towards Hob. “Why were you feeling sorry for yourself?” Hob’s expression shutters closed again, and he shakes his head. 
“It’s not important,” he says, turning away and refusing to meet Dream’s eyes.  
“Hob,” Dream says, taking another step closer and reaching out to take the other man’s hand in his. “It’s important to me,” he adds.  
Hob sighs, and then turns his eyes to the ceiling. When he meets Dream’s gaze again, he looks pained. 
“I’m not good at being casual Dream,” Hob tells him bluntly, and Dream feels a sense of deja vu run through him like a live wire. “If we’re going to keep doing…this, I want there to be a commitment. It’s not just sex to me.”
It’s almost identical to what Eleanor had said about Hob to Dream a week prior. Dream suddenly feels wretched for not noticing sooner, but also indignant, because why had Hob assumed that wasn’t what Dream wanted as well? 
“Hob,” Dream says, as calmly as he can manage, before he squeezes Hob’s hand tightly. “What made you think I didn’t want the same things?”
Hob’s face falls. He looks intently at Dream’s face, and whatever he finds there only seems to upset him further. 
“I—I don’t know,” Hob admits, before he groans and places his free hand over his face. Dream finds it a bit comforting that he hasn’t tried to remove Dream’s hand over his other one.
“I’ve read this whole thing wrong, haven’t I?” Hob says through his hand, before slapping his forehead. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
“You’re not,” Dream says, before he takes Hob’s free hand as well. “And to be fair,” he adds, “it’s occurred to me recently that I may have, as well. We’ve never talked about—about this,” he gestures between them. “Us. We just sort of skip to the sex.”
“Well, we have been drunk every time,” Hob replies. “You said so yourself.”
“Not—every time,” Dream says. “After Matthew got food poisoning, when I thought that you had invited me out on a date, we only had one drink each that we didn’t finish.”
“Wait,” Hob stutters, his whole body going rigid. “You thought I had invited you out for a date? That’s why—,” his eyes widen suddenly. “That’s why you wore the blazer.”
Dream blushes furiously and now it is his turn to look away from Hob’s scrutinizing gaze. “You don’t have to rub it in.”
“No I’m not I—,” Hob groans again, and then, unexpectedly, pulls his hands free before dropping his head down on Dream’s shoulder. Dream startles when he feels Hob’s arms suddenly wrap around his waist shortly after.
“I had no idea. None at all,” Hob confesses, then groans again. “God I would’ve taken you somewhere nicer if I knew you wanted it to be a date.”
Dream shrugs, then reaches up to pat Hob on the back. “It’s fine. Really.”
“Not really, but we can agree to disagree,” Hob replies, before he tilts his head slightly up to look at Dream “Can I get a do-over on that then?” he asks. “Take you out on a proper date?”
Dream wants that, he realizes. Desperately. So he nods. 
“I do want that,” Dream says honestly. “But—”
“Oh God, there’s a ‘but’,” Hob groans before he straightens and untangles himself from Dream. Dream already misses the warmth of Hob’s body. 
“It’s not a bad ‘but’,” Dream replies. “But there’s something that’s been bothering me since we—since all this started,” he finishes. “I want to make sure we’re really on the same page.”
Hob nods. “Okay, sure. What is it?” he asks.
Dream takes a deep breath to brace himself, and then looks Hob directly in the eye. Now or never, he supposes. 
“Why do you turn off the lights?” Dream asks. 
Hob blinks, slow, then suddenly blushes a furious red before he buries his face in his hands.
“Aw, come on Dream,” Hob sighs. “It’s really embarrassing.”
Dream softens a bit, but remains resolute. Eleanor had told him what she thought had been the problem all along, but he still needs to hear it from Hob himself.  
“I need to know, Hob,” Dream insists.
“Why?” Hob asks, then sighs again. “I mean, I don’t know, it’s pretty obvious isn’t it? I’m not really much to look at, you know,” he says, gesturing to himself.
“Not much to look at?” Dream asks, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice.
“I know, it’s stupid,” Hob sighs, running a hand over his face. “But I mean, Dream, look at you. You’re gorgeous and I’m…I don’t know, not that?”
“I’m still not following,” Dream says, still confused but also growing more and more uneasy about what Hob is implying. “Did you…did you really not think I was attracted to you? At all?”
“No, I—I just—,” Hob stutters. “I don’t know what I thought, honestly,” he says, looking guilty. “I just—I’m not as confident as you about how I look naked,” he adds, gesturing to his front, and Dream’s heart sinks at the confirmation of yet another thing Eleanor had told him. “I thought…maybe you’d change your mind about being with me. If you saw, well— everything.”
“Everything,” Dream replies flatly. 
“I mean, you know I’m really…hairy,” Hob says, before he winces. “And well, I’m not really in shape or anything like that either…” he trails off, looking even more guilty with every new word that comes out of his mouth. Like he’s only just realizing now that he pushed his anxieties about his body onto Dream, who clearly hasn't noticed any of the things Hob's insecure about.
“So…what?” Dream says, suddenly feeling indignance and hurt creep into his voice. “You just assumed I wouldn’t find you attractive unless I was drunk and we had sex in the dark?”
“Wait, what?” Hob exclaims. 
“Am I really that shallow sounding to you?” Dream continues, already feeling his emotions start to get the better of him.
“No, oh god, no,” Hob replies immediately. “Dream, I don’t know what’s brought this on, but swear it had nothing to do with you. I was just stupid and insecure about myself, and I wasn’t thinking properly. I’m sorry, I really had no idea it bothered you so much.”
A somewhat tense and awkward silence falls between them. Dream mulls over what Hob has told him, feeling wretched about how deeply they’ve both misunderstood one another. But he had come here to clear those misunderstandings after all. Hob had admitted his insecurities. Now Dream had to as well. 
“I actually thought—” Dream says, then takes a shuddering breath to calm himself. “I thought you turned the lights off because you didn’t want to look at me,” he finally admits.  “Because I wasn’t who you really wanted to be with.”
Hob’s eyes widen, first in shock, then horror. “Wait you thought that I—”
“Was using me as a stand-in for Eleanor?” Dream finishes. He wraps his arms around himself and then looks away, refusing to meet Hob’s eyes. He feels like a coward for doing so but Dream knows he’ll lose his resolve to admit everything he’d been bottling up if he does. “The first time we slept together, I assumed you were only looking for a rebound. And when we never talked about it after, or told our friends I—”
“Fuck, Dream,” Hob interrupts, grabbing him suddenly and hugging Dream to his chest. “I had no idea, I—fuck, I’m so sorry I made you feel like that.”
Dream sniffles, wrapping his own arms around Hob, shrugging helplessly. 
“I should have said something sooner,” Dream says. “But I let it—fester instead. I had no idea that you thought you weren’t attractive to me either. But Hob,” he adds, turning his head to meet Hob’s eyes again, hoping he looks as serious as he feels. “I don’t just sleep with people I’m not attracted to. Regardless of how much alcohol is involved.”
Hob nods. “Yeah. I—I’m still sorry about everything though.”
“Me too,” Dream replies, then adds, a bit more quietly. “I like the hair, actually.” Hob chokes out a noise that seems half between a laugh and a sob. 
“You don’t have to say—” he starts but Dream shushes him.
“I mean it, Hob,” Dream says, before he works a hand between them to pet the small patch of hair peeking out from beneath Hob’s shirt. “I think it suits you. And I would like to be able to fully appreciate it.”
When he looks up at Hob, the other man’s eyes are a bit watery. But then Hob blinks rapidly, and sniffles, before he hugs Dream even more tightly to himself.
“Stay the night?” Hob asks. “Not for—not for sex. Just stay with me?”
Dream nods against Hob’s shoulder. “Okay.”
Hob makes a decision to order takeout instead of making dinner like he originally planned, citing that he’d rather spend time talking with Dream anyways. They still put away the groceries, which helps release a lot of the emotional tension that had built up between them, and Dream enjoys the warm, domestic feel of the activity. 
Once their food arrives, they settle on Hob’s couch and talk late into the night about everything and nothing. Hob catches Dream up on what missed during trivia when he was out with Didi, and Dream shyly admits that Didi had not been the only person he’d talked to that evening. Hob stares at him, equal parts awestruck and mortified, as Dream recalls his conversations with Eleanor and Didi, and how he found out they were dating. 
“So what you’re saying is, I’m lucky to have my bits still attached?” Hob jokes. 
“Hob,” Dream chastises him, bumping their shoulders together. “That’s not nice.”
“You didn’t date Eleanor,” Hob retorts. “She’s terrifying, do you know how many serial killer documentaries she used to watch?”
Dream did, in fact, know this. He had been subject to many episodes of Cold Case Files growing up with Didi, and his knowledge had been how he and Eleanor had first become friends. Dream suspects Eleanor’s deep passion for them is actually one of the reasons why she and Didi get along so well.
“Hob,” Dream says, a new worry now crossing his mind. “Are you—okay—with all of this?” he waves vaguely. “With Didi dating your ex while we—?” He trails off. They still haven’t really decided on what their official relationship status would be going forward, and Dream doesn’t want to presume.
Hob nudges Dream with his shoulder, and then kisses the top of his head. 
“Yeah, I am,” Hob answers sincerely. “I mean—it’s never not going to suck that we broke up,” he adds. “But we had our time, and if she’s happy then I’m happy too.”
Dream nods. “That’s good to hear,” he says. 
“Are you okay with it?” Hob asks. Dream hums. 
“I am,” he answers, then huffs a laugh. “I did offer to help them move into their new place, though.”
Hob groans. “Does this mean I have to help too as part of my good boyfriend duties?” he asks.
Dream’s potsticker falls out of his mouth mid chew, hits his knee, and then falls to the floor.
“Shit!” Dream exclaims, putting his food on the coffee table before bending down to pick up the stray dumpling. 
“I—did I say something wrong?” Hob asks, worry now clear in his voice. Dream shakes his head and then flops against Hob’s shoulder.
“You said nothing wrong,” Dream says into Hob’s shoulder, his face now flushed with embarrassment. “I was just surprised, is all. You—you said it so easily.”
“Boyfriend, you mean?” Hob asks, now in a teasing tone. “Do you like it?”
Dream nods, feeling ridiculous about being done in by a single word. But Hob doesn’t seem to mind.
“I like it too,” is all he says, before he places a hand underneath Dream’s chin and kisses him.
-----------------
As they’re getting ready for bed, Dream feels a thrum of excitement, even though they’ve still agreed that sex is off the table for the night. They’re both far too tired and emotionally drained from the evening to put in the effort anyways.
But then Hob is holding out his arm for Dream to snuggle into, and Dream feels like a teenanger as he curls up against Hob’s chest and rests his head on it. 
“Fair warning that you’re going to wake up sweaty if you stay here all night,” Hob tells him. Dream knows he doesn’t mean to sound so self-deprecating, but now that he knows just how deep Hob’s insecurities run, it breaks his heart a little. 
“That’s fine,” Dream says, pressing himself even closer. He can feel Hob’s chest hair poking through the thin material of his undershirt. Dream rubs his face into it, enjoying the rough, scratchy texture against his check. Hob laughs at Dream’s actions, and Dream hums in contentment. He really did like the feel of Hob’s chest hair. It was surprisingly soft in certain places, and warm. Maybe Dream would wake up because he’s too warm in the middle of the night. Maybe he won’t. He’s just glad that now he gets the opportunity to find out. 
“You don’t have to pretend to be enthusiastic about it,” Hob says as Dream nuzzles him again.
“I’m not,” Dream replies, rolling his eyes. “It feels…nice.”
“Sure,” Hob replies. “Say that again in the morning.”
Dream does in fact, say something similar to that effect in the morning. He says it while he sits atop Hob’s lap, Dream gripping the thick pelt of hair for purchase as he ruts himself desperately against Hob. 
They’ve never had sex in the morning. In the bright light of day. Somehow it’s even more intimate than what Dream imagines having sex with the lights on must feel like and he loves it. Hob is looking at Dream like he’s something divine, like he can’t quite believe that what they’re doing is really happening. Dream thinks he’ll never let Hob turn off the lights again when they do this. He never again wants to miss a single second of seeing the way Hob looks at him, at how stunning Hob’s entire body looks and feels when pressed against Dream’s. His new goal, for however long it takes, is that Hob never questions Dream’s attraction to him ever again.
When they’ve both reached their peaks, Dream collapses on top of Hob, uncaring of the sticky mess between them. Hob’s chest is warm and broad, and Dream finds himself slowly drifting back to sleep. Hob groans after a while, however, wriggling beneath the weight of Dream's body, and disturbing his otherwise peaceful post-coital rest.
“Okay, this is sweet and all, but now I’m the one that's too hot,” Hob whines, pushing gently at Dream’s shoulder. Dream laughs, a brazen, awful honking noise that he’s always been insecure about. But Hob had told him the night before that he loves Dream’s laugh, and Dream can see now that the other man wasn’t lying. He’s looking at Dream softly, so full of affection that Dream nearly forgets he needs to move and just stares at Hob for a while.
“What?” Hob asks, his eyes crinkled with happiness.
“Nothing,” Dream replies, smiling back before he moves off of his boyfriend’s chest.
Hob gets up from the bed once Dream rolls off of him and heads towards the bathroom. He comes back with two warm washcloths to wipe themselves off with. When they’re both done, he tosses both cloths in the direction of the hamper, missing his target by mere inches. 
“Close enough,” Hob says. 
“That’ll leave a wet spot on your carpet,” Dream tells him, already seeing his prediction start to come true. 
“I’ll get to it later,” Hob replies before he kisses Dream, languid and slow and perfect. “I have more important things to do today.”
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gretagerwigsmuse · 10 months
Text
can't hardly wait
Summary: in which a guy named bradley likes you back on hinge...
OR a prequel fic with the first hinge messages
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader
Warnings: listen i know i have a picture selected for her, i just wanted to have the ice cream comparison and went with this one. also i have all the pics on bradley's profile if you're curious 💁🏼‍♀️ he's just so goddamn cute! written for @roosterforme 's 'rocktober' event and inspired by the replacements song. don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉 [image template (x)]
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Your phone lit up with a notification, buzzing in its spot on your glass desk. You glanced down at it for a moment before going back to your slide deck - until it buzzed again. It was a Hinge notification. You hadn't been particularly active on the app the last couple days, not wanting to get your hopes up yet again. But you'd made one last ditch attempt on Hinge, liking some guys who were way out of your league - before telling Max he had the go-ahead to set you up with his buddy. Leaning back in your desk chair, you swiped up on the notification.
Oh. It was this one - the pretty one. Bradley.
You scrolled back through his profile one more time, reacquainting yourself with the 6'1" brunet. He had a picture cuddling a chunky French Bulldog, one at a Rolling Stones concert, one with an older guy who was probably his dad, and one where his eyes looked like pools of chocolate, in addition to his main photo. Unbidden, a smile crept across your face. He looked kind, sweet. Even if he didn't say where he worked.
Bradley, you tested the name out.
Without further delay, you pulled up his message:
Did you only like me because I also have a picture eating ice cream on my profile? I guess that means you're not lactose intolerant?
You let out a little giggle and twirled around in your desk chair. Oh, he was sweet (and a little nerdy). No, it's because you're unfathomably pretty and I didn't think you'd actually like me back. Trying not to overthink it, you typed out a response:
bold of you to assume it also wasn't the 'stache...and that i'm not just mainlining lactaid
It was cute, a little cheeky. He typed and deleted his response a couple times, leaving you on the edge of your seat.
How far do you have UVA going in MM this year?
You pursed your lips. Hmph. And went back to scrolling his profile. Ah, there it was - he'd also gone to UVA, though a couple years before you. He also drank, didn't smoke, and was vaccinated and bi. You swiped back to the chat.
Your allegiance to UVA in any sporting event wasn't exactly top of mind, so you had to check your March Madness bracket that everyone in the office had been forced to fill out for team building. Just has you were about to say Elite Eight! Bradley messaged back:
Sorry, that was really lame. I’m not used to this.
You smiled. that has to be a line...
His reply was instantaneous. It's not, I promise! Alright give me one more try. How's this?
In the background, your computer pinged with multiple Teams message notifications, but your eyes remained glued to your phone.
Did you know the moon's actually lemon shaped? And that the Milky Way apparently smells like raspberries and rum?
It was such a ridiculous and silly fun fact that it made you smile. Time to put all that barstool trivia knowledge to good use.
no, bradley, i did not know that. do you only specialize in space fun facts or can i get something else out of you...
----------
Turns out all it took was a smattering of the world's silliest fun facts to get you hooked, and after days of texting you were at the Hard Deck. The beachfront dive bar wasn't exactly your ideal first date location, but it seemed like there was a good crowd inside judging by the excessive number of the cars in the parking lot. As it was, your Uber let you out next to a pale blue Bronco. You smoothed your hands over your dress and checked your hair one final time before heading inside.
You didn’t really date. Not in the same sense that your friends Caroline and Darcy or even Alexa and Max did. The last person you’d gone out with for more than three dates had been your ex-boyfriend Jack and even that relationship fizzled after six months. 
But there was just something about him - about Bradley - that made you think this could be something? Something about Bradley made you giggle at your phone while you read his texts and buy a new dress and get a wax for your date. 
God, please like me. I hope he likes me.
The bell above the door jingled as you entered, suddenly taken aback not only by the amount of people in the bar, but also the Navy paraphernalia doting seemingly every usable surface. Jesus. Did Uncle Sam pay everyone's tab, too?
Scooting out of the way of another group entering behind you, you bit your lip and stretched your neck, looking around the bar for Bradley. What if he wasn't there? What if he saw you get out of your Uber in the parking lot and bailed? No - he wouldn't do that. The Bradley you had gotten to know over the last couple days sent you fun facts and his Wordle score. He asked about your projects at work and what you were having for dinner. He texted with full capitalization and punctuation. At the very worst, you'd hope you'd get an it's not you, it's me text from him.
But your worry was all for naught because when you got closer to the bar, you saw him. And by some sort of miracle he hadn't seen you yet, which gave you ample opportunity to ogle because you seriously needed a minute. God, he was so pretty. His hair looked lighter in person, not as brown, his arms looked so strong even in his unbuttoned light blue oxford, and that mustache? It worked. It really worked.
And he looked nervous? His knee was bouncing and he kept glancing down at the phone propped up on his knee. 7:33pm - you were late. You squared your shoulders and cleared your throat before closing the final few steps.
"Bradley?"
He spun around on his barstool at your voice. The abrupt motion caused him to almost drop his phone, but it made you smile. Once his eyes settled on you it was like everything stopped. The bar got quiet, you didn't notice the girl next to you complaining about her drink, and the hockey game on TV faded into the background - you just noticed Bradley.
A smile crept across his face as he said your name in turn and you nodded. Your stomach was going crazy with butterflies and your heart was pounding so hard, you were convinced Bradley could see the outline through your pink dress. His voice was warm and raspy and had your insides turning into honey.
"It's nice to see you - " He gave you a full hug that was over far too soon. God he smelled so good, too. "- Here, have a seat. Do you want a drink?"
"You too." You took his hand and got on the barstool, placing your clutch on the table and glancing around the bar. "Ummm, what're you having?"
"An old fashioned - sorry," he shook himself and glanced back down at his drink sheepishly, "you just look really pretty."
You cheeks warmed under his stare and you bit your lip. If your knee nudged his underneath the bar-top then that was just an accident. "Thanks, I'll uh - I'll have a margarita?"
Bradley was either really smart or really lucky when he ordered your margarita with your preferred tequila - you only had to pipe up to request salt on the rim.
And then it was just easy. Everything just fell into place. You talked about your time at UVA - he even got you to admit that you were a Tri-Delta after he admitted to being Sigma Chi philanthropy chair -your favorite restaurants and neighborhoods in San Diego, and your job, which Bradley endearingly thought was fascinating - something you wouldn't exactly agree with, but it was flattering all the same.
And it was only because of the easy conversation and banter between the two of you that you finally felt comfortable bringing up your most burning question all evening:
“So, what’s with the bar?” you asked, looking around with a teasing smile on your face. Bradley cocked his head. “I mean, is it just me or is like every naval officer within a forty mile radius here?”
And then the night took a turn...
don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉
a/n: so this was just something small to tide me over before i post my next fic about thanksgiving! hope you all liked it!
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sturn1olo-ffics · 2 months
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- “ALRIGHT BABY” -
pt. 1 | pt. 2
- Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns)
- Warnings: use of y/n, angst, hatred, swearing, making out, drinking, I think that’s it? I hope 😭; NOT PROOFREAD
- About: Matt and y/n have always hated each other. Their personalities clashed and honestly, y/n just had the BIGGEST crush on Chris. And Matt hated that. So. Much.
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MATT’S POV:
I really don’t want to go to this party tonight but it’s Tara’s birthday so I want to show her support.
“MATTTTTT!!!!!” Chris screamed from downstairs.
“Fucking what????” I yelled back.
“Are you almost ready? We gotta leave bro.” he said.
“Chris I’ve been ready I don’t even know what we’re waiting on.” I said back, lowkey confused.
“We’re waiting on y/n to get here, she was stuck in traffic.” Nick yelled from the kitchen.
“Of course she’s the hold up.” I snapped.
“Dude chill it’ll be alright.” Chris laughed.
*30 minutes passes and they’re all in y/n’s car, driving to Tara’s party*
Y/N’s POV:
“Alright so Imma leave y’all to whatever y’all wanna do because I’m getting DRUNK!” I laughed while Matt glared over.
“Okay well let us know when you’re ready to leave… and give me those damn car keys.” Nick laughed back.
Nick handed my keys to Matt, who would obviously be driving us home. I didn’t want him touching my things but I had no other option.
“Hey Jake!” I ran right into Jake Webber when I walked in.
“Hey! You want a drink??” He offered me a drink and I chugged it.
I hadn’t drank in a while because I was trying to focus on college instead of partying and drinking. But one night couldn’t hurt.
I felt a hand grab onto my waist from behind.
It was Chris.
“Hey?? What’s up??” I exclaimed, confused.
“Hey I just wanna stay by you tonight, make sure you’re gonna be okay.” He whispered in my ear.
Chris always cared about me a little more than everyone else. And it definitely didn’t help that I had a huge thing for him. I mean, who wouldn’t? Look at him bro.
But I had no chance with him. He said I was like a sister to him and, honestly, I’m not about the incest life…
On a real note though, he was my best friend. And I don’t want to mess that up.
MATT’S POV:
I saw Chris place a hand on her waist.
Why the hell was that pissing me off? I don’t even like her as a person.
I kept an eye on her the whole night. I know how she acts when she gets drunk and I’d rather her not embarrass us.
*2 hours passes and y/n has had a LOT to drink*
“Hey Matt-” she leaned on me. So unlike her.
“Get off. What?” I pushed her away.
“I don’t feel good, can you get me an Uber? You can take my-” she started before I cut her off.
“No. You’re not taking an Uber like this. That’s dangerous.” I responded.
“Well then how the fuck am I supposed to get home?” she snapped.
“I will take you. Come on.” I picked her up by the waist and threw her over my shoulder.
“Matt!!!! Put me down!!!” she squealed.
“No. You can barely walk.” I laughed.
Y/N’s POV:
What the hell. Why was that kinda… ok no I need to chill.
“What about Nick and Chris??” I questioned.
“They’re getting a ride from Carrington, it’s alright.” he responded.
He opened the car door and placed me in, buckling me up before closing the door and walking to the other side.
“Matt?” I asked, quietly.
“What?” He snarked.
“You know I’m not really drunk right?” I laughed.
“Y/n-” he started.
“I just wanted to go home but didn’t wanna seem lame.” I laughed. Which, I mean, I was telling the truth. It was all an act. “But please don’t turn the car around.”
“You know you could’ve just told me that…? I wasn’t gonna think you were lame.” He pulled the car over to talk.
“You don’t think I’m lame?” I giggled.
“Oh please, sure I do.” Matt put the car in park. “Do you wanna drive? It’s your car…” he asked.
“No… I’m too tired.” I yawned.
“Alright baby.” he turned to face the wheel again, not even realizing what he just said.
“… baby?” I was in utter shock. Matt HATES me. Where in the hell did this come from???
“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” he turned to face me again.
“No it’s just… where did that come from…?” I laughed.
“You want me to show you where that came from?” he looked down at my lips, then back up to my dilated eyes.
“Wha-” I started before I was cut off by Matt’s lips grazing my ears.
“Let me kiss you.” he demanded.
Since when did he become so hot?
Without a thought, I pressed my lips to his.
The kiss was passionate and greedy. Like he had been wanting to do that for years.
I pulled back.
“You know-” I laughed before he cut me off.
“Shh” he whispered.
He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer. He pushed the seat back and guided me over the center console.
He trailed kisses down my neck, onto my bare chest which had been exposed by the neckline of my top. Leaving bruises for the world to see.
His playlist played in the background.
Minutes passed by of us sloppily kissing each other until we couldn’t breathe.
“Do you still hate me?” he pulled back.
“I don’t know if I ever did.” I stared into his bright blue eyes.
“I know you never did.” he smirked. Making me trace back to all the times I stared at him just a little too long.
“Can we do this more often?” I laughed, climbing back into the passenger seat.
“Oh baby you’re mine. I’ve already marked you up.” he placed a hand on my chest, trailing his finger up my neck, then dragging my lip down with it.
How the hell do I explain this to Nick and Chris??? Do I just not say anything?? I have to, they’re gonna find out. Especially if me and Matt are together. But did he really mean that I’m HIS?
—————————————————————————————
A/N: Hi guys!!!! I’M BACKKKKKK!!!!!! Sorry if this fic was a little rusty…. it’s been a while. Sorry it’s so short!! But, I hope to make it multiple parts if this does well. So, I hope you see the vision?? I was so busy with school I crashed out LOLLL. But I’m back and better than usual. I hope to stay writing fics for a while longer. But we’ll see. Send reqs in my inbox for a part 2!! 🤍🤍 Maya :)
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zegrasdrysdale · 10 months
Note
Hey bae I have another request for Jamie. Reader goes home for thanksgiving and Jamie wasn’t able to go with her. Long story short he ends up surprising her at her family home, and proposes
[ your last name ] j. drysdale
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paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader
summary : Jamie surprises (Y/N) for Thanksgiving, in more ways than one
warning(s) : none :)
author’s note : happy thanksgiving my loves ! grateful for every single one of you ! don't forget to fill out this form if you want to be added to the taglist !
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Thanksgiving this year feels different because Jamie isn’t coming with her to dinner at her parents’ house.
Jamie said that his family wanted to see him so he flew home to see them two days ago. He didn’t know if he would be back in time to go to Philly with her for dinner. They've been together for four year now and this is the first Thanksgiving since they started dating that he won't be with her for dinner.
He told her to go without him because it's one of the only times during the year that she gets to see her parents, her siblings, her in-laws, and her nieces and nephews. She wishes that Jamie could've come with her but she understands that he can't be with her this year.
(Y/N) loves her family, but every year they ask her when Jamie is going to marry her. Especially after the second year she brought him with her. This year, she gets to face those questions all by herself.
She Ubers from Philadelphia International to the Fishtown section of Philadelphia when she flies in the morning of Thanksgiving. She's staying only one night so she has a duffel bag with her.
Traffic on 95 is insane, which is understandable considering people are traveling. It takes her nearly an hour to get from the airport to her parents' house. She's texting back and forth with Jamie the entire time to make the ride go faster.
jd ♡ - 10:23 am i know. i wish i could've come with you too. tell everyone i say hi and that i wish i could've been there. i'll see you when we both get back to anaheim, okay?
i love you
She writes back an "I love you too" as the Uber pulls up to the house.
There are already a bunch of cars parked in the driveway and up the street. Some she recognizes and some she doesn't.
(Y/N) thanks the driver as she gets out with her bag. He drives off to pick up another person and she stands outside of the house with her bag over her shoulder. She sighs and walks up to the front door.
Footsteps sound on the other side of the door after she knocks. Her mother stands in front of her when the door swings open.
"(Y/N)!" she exclaims as she throws her hands around her daughter. "My youngest baby. Come on in. Everyone is already here. They're all very excited to see you."
Almost on cue, her oldest niece comes running to the door. "Aunt (Y/N)!" she yells as she wraps herself around (Y/N)'s waist. She looks around her body. "Where's Uncle Jamie? Is he coming?"
She frowns and shakes her head. "Not this year," she tells her niece. "He went to go see his family up in Canada this year. He sends all his love though and wishes he was here. He misses everyone."
"Okay," her niece sighs. "Can we call him later though? So we can say hi to him?"
"Of course we can," (Y/N) tells her. "Wanna help me unpack my things? You can get your cousins too and we can all go upstairs to my room to unpack."
Her eight-year-old niece happily nods and goes running back inside. She yells the names of all her cousins that are in the house. (Y/N)'s mom still stands beside her. "It's going to be weird without him here," she comments. "Will you see him tomorrow before his game?"
"I don't know," she admits. "I hope so. It feels like he's been gone for a while when it hasn't even been a week. It sucks when he isn't around but it's his job and he never gets to see his family so I get it, I guess."
"It sounds like it's starting to get to you," her mom tells her. "Him not being around a lot, I mean. Especially during the season."
"It doesn't matter if he isn't around a lot," (Y/N) sighs. "I love him and he loves hockey. Jamie and hockey come as a package deal, and I knew that going in. Sometimes I just miss him, especially around the holidays."
(Y/N)'s mom rubs her arm. "It'll be okay," she says. "Go get settled. I'm going to start making the cake soon and I know you like helping with that."
Her heart falls into her stomach. She and Jamie always make and bake the cake when they get to her parents' house. It's the reason they fly in extra early on Thanksgiving.
Without another word, (Y/N) heads upstairs to her bedroom.
Over the years as she's grown up, her parents have updated the furniture in her room but have kept the same decorations. The bed got bigger right before she moved to California for college. They got her a bigger vanity while she was in high school because she decided to wear makeup starting in her junior year.
She adds a few pictures to her wall collection every time she comes home. Mostly of her and Jamie, but her and her California friends and her and her friends from home are all over the board too.
This year she adds two pictures of her and Jamie on their four year anniversary. They went on a little vacation together to celebrate since it was during the offseason. She took a lot of pictures but the selfie she took of Jamie kissing her cheek and the selfie of Jamie kissing her make it onto the wall. She smiles a sad smile and wishes he was here to watch her put the pictures up.
As she's unpacking the toiletries she brough with her, a child's voice downstairs yells, "Uncle Jamie!"
His name immediately catches her attention.
(Y/N) drops her hairbrush after the shock wears off and runs out of the room. She nearly slips down the wooden stairs to get to Jamie.
When she turns into the hallway that leads to the foyer and front door, she sees Jamie in a black Ducks hoodie and grey sweatpants. A suitcase sits at his side and he's bent down as he hugs the children that went to the door to greet him.
He has the biggest smile on his faces as he says hello. She can't help but smile behind her hands, which she brought up when she saw that he was here. Her eyes burn with tears that threaten to fall at any given moment.
"You're here!" (Y/N)'s oldest niece says. "Aunt (Y/N) said you weren't going to be here."
Jamie glances up at her and replies, "I wanted to surprise her. Can I go say hi to Aunt (Y/N)?"
Her niece nods and all of the kids back away. Jamie stands up and walks over to (Y/N).
The tears fall when Jamie wraps his arms around her neck. She buries his face into his chest and lets out a quiet sob. (Y/N) wraps her arms around his torso. "I didn't think you were going to be here," she tells him. "I thought you were still in Canada with your family and I wouldn't see you until tomorrow when I got back into Anaheim."
"I'm here, baby," Jamie says into her hair. "I'm always here."
She looks up at her boyfriend and smiles. Jamie uses his thumbs to wipe away her tears and dry her cheeks. "Sorry I'm such a mess," she says. "It's been a few days since I've seen you and I've really missed you."
Jamie presses a long kiss to her forehead. "I've missed you too," he mumbles. "Let's go make that cake, yeah? You think I'd miss out on doing that with you?"
She laughs and walks into the kitchen with Jamie. Their fingers are laced together when they walk into the room. Her mom is standing with her back to them with all the ingredients on the island counter and says, "(Y/N), did you want to make vanilla or choco- Jamie! I didn't know you were coming."
"I wanted it to be a surprise," Jamie says as he wraps an arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders. "We can take over baking the cake, if you don't mind."
Her mom smiles at the two of them before nodding. "Not at all," she says. "I know this is the thing the two of you like to do together so I'll keep the kids busy so you can bake away."
Without another word, (Y/N)'s mother leaves the room with a smile on her face. "Let's give Aunt (Y/N) and Uncle Jamie some time alone since it's been a while since they've seen each other," she says to probably the kids.
(Y/N) goes over to the counter where the cake ingredients are lined up and looks over them to make sure everything they need is ready to go. She's making a note of everything they have when Jamie comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.
"Missed you," Jamie mumbles against the swell of her ear. "My family asked about you the entire time I was with them. I told them that you send your love and that we'd visit them over the All Star break in a few weeks."
She smiles when he begins to press soft kisses to her jaw. "I do miss mama Drysdale," she tells him as she leans back against him. "I can't wait to go see your family."
Jamie lets out a light laugh. "Let's get this cake done so I can go get a shower and get ready for dinner," he says. "I don't think your family would be very happy if I sat down at the dining room table for dinner tonight smelling like airport and dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants."
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The (L/N) family sits down at the dinner table a little before six that night. (Y/N) sits between her older brother and Jamie, who has since changed into a button-up shirt and one of his suit bottoms that he'd wear as part of his arrival suits. She's wearing a short black wrap dress with a pair of matching heels.
The thing about (Y/N)'s family is that there are a lot of them.
(Y/N)'s parents had four kids, and she is the youngest at 22. Between her three older siblings, they have eight kids and three spouses together so there are nearly 20 people at the table.
There is also a lot of food because of how people there are. The cake that she and Jamie baked is sitting in the kitchen and even that is big because of how many people there are in the house at the moment.
They say grace before they start passing bowls and plates around the table so everyone can grab a serving.
The kids all sit at one end of the table while the adults sit at the other end. (Y/N)'s mom sits at the head of the table since she was the one that mostly cooked. She helped a bit when Jamie was showering and changing.
Jamie takes a bite of the turkey and groans. "Mrs. (L/N), the turkey is amazing like always," he tells her when he swallows his bite. "Thank you for cooking."
"You say the same thing every year, Jamie," her mom laughs. "But thank you."
She looks over at Jamie as she chews her bite of stuffing, who shoots her mom a smile. "I mean it every year," he replies. "It's really good."
(Y/N)'s siblings and their partners nod in agreement. She just smiles and takes a bite of her turkey then a sip of her wine.
Small conversations break out as the food begins to disappear from the plates and bowls. (Y/N) treats herself to several servings of the stuffing and mashed potatoes. The kids eat up all the mac and cheese that was made specifically for them. A couple of them even dabble in the turkey.
Jamie is laughing at something (Y/N) said when her mother decides to ask the looming question that is always asked at Thanksgiving.
"So, Jamie," she begins to say. "Have you put any thoughts into putting a ring on my daughter's finger?"
Her eyes widen and she scolds, "Mom! If Jamie is going to propose to me, he'll do it on his own time. I'm 22, he's 21. There is still so much time for us to get married."
Mrs. (L/N) blinks at the two of them and says, "You've been together for over four years, (Y/N). You live together and travel together when you can. He traveled probably overnight to surprise you at your family home for Thanksgiving. If you're going to spend the rest of your lives together then you should know by now, shouldn't you?"
(Y/N) opens her mouth to say something when Jamie puts a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, (Y/N)," he tells her before turning his attention to her mom. "You'll be the first one to know when I do put a ring on your daughter's finger, Mrs. (L/N). We promise."
She seems content with that answer so she goes back to eating what is on her plate. (Y/N) lets out a soft sigh before she takes a bite of her mashed potatoes.
"Actually, I do have something for you, (Y/N)," Jamie says after a quiet moment. It gets the attention of everyone at the table. "I mean, as long as you don't mind if I gave it to you right now."
A surprised (Y/N) swallows her bite and nods. "Depends on what it is," she tells him.
He smiles and says, "It's actually why I was a little late today. I wanted to be here before you got here but I had to go pick it up so ..." He digs in his pocket for the gift he has for her.
Her jaw drops when she sees a little velvet black box in the palm of his hand. There are several gasps from around the table and the smile on Jamie's lips grows when he sees what must be shock on (Y/N)'s face.
"Jamie, what are you doing?"
He slides down off his chair onto one knee beside her. "Putting a ring on your finger," he tells her. "(Y/N), you have accepted every part of me and my chaotic life, including me being on the road for over half the year because of hockey. I know it's rough but you have loved me through every single second. Nothing. including distance, can get in our way. I want that for the rest of my life, and I hope you want too. I want to love you every single day until I die. So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you do me the biggest honor and marry me?"
The box is pulled open and a beautiful diamond ring sits in the center of it. A hand flies to her mouth and tears prick her eyes. Her eyes don't leave a kneeling Jamie Drysdale.
She can't believe this is happening. She thought she was years away from a proposal, yet here she is. Jamie is on one knee in front of her entire family with a ring in his hand.
It is rough loving Jamie when he's so far away, but knowing she is the one he comes home to makes it a little easier. She loves that he has included her in his hockey life, and even gets her to a handful of away games every year. He doesn't try to separate her and hockey like she know a bunch of players try to do.
With tears rolling down her face, she moves her hand and says, "Yes. I will marry you, Jamie."
The entire room breaks out in celebration. Jamie takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her left ring finger. She looks at it for a second before she cups his jaw and presses a long kiss to his lips. He breaks it and wraps his arms around her waist.
(Y/N) looks at her mother, who is holding her father's hand and crying. There are smiles all around the table as she pulls back from the hug.
"I was very worried you were going to say no," Jamie admits. "I know I'm away a lot and I hate that I'm away from you all the time but coming home to my fiancée after a roadie sounded really nice."
She smiles and runs her fingers through his hair. "Wearing my fiancé's last name on my back while he's on the ice sounds really nice," she tells him.
"It's going to eventually be your last name," he replies. "That's kind of hot."
She laughs and kisses him one more time before everyone begins to hug the two of them and congratulate them on their engagement.
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ghostismybbygorl · 2 years
Text
Walk of shame
Simon woke up from his slumper and peered to his right
A small body next to him breathing ever so lightly
"Right" he thought
He had a one night stand last night. Never really thought he would be the one to do the walk of shame.
Ghost gathered his clothes in a heaping pile by the girls bed. He picked up his phone
5am
"Fuckin hell" he sighed quietly opening the uber app
"Johnnys never going to let me down on this one" he thought placing a uber.
He quickly gathered the rest of his stuff put his trainers on and headed out the door
He nearly slipped on the ice that formed on the porch of the house. The air was cold, crisp even. Luckily ghost had a medical mask and his hoodie to keep him warm while he waits.
"Cant believe im doing a walk of shame" he muttered to himself
He flipped open his messages to see if anyone texted him when he left with the girl
30 messages
"Fuckin hell" he sighed
1HOE1 bitches (soap and y/n came up with the ridiculously stupid name)
Gaz🦌: yo yall seen ghost?
Y/n👹: he wasnt w me and soap
Foap🧼: last time i check he was flirtin w a cute lass
Y/n👹: bastards probably doing the walk of shame tonight boys 😈
Foap🧼: @ghost
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Y/n👹:
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Gaz🦌: you are terrible people
Y/n👹: thank you bestie 😚💅🏼
Foap🧼: gon be si when he gets to our place
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Y/n👹: 😂😂😂😂
Simon locked his phone sighing once more dreading the conversations that will erupt when he gets to soap and y/n's apartment.
The ride to his car was quiet. Simon decided to get some shut eye before driving back to the apartment.
Driving home was a breeze he had the heat blazing and he had his music set to his and y/n's shared playlist which was a bunch of mellow indie music; good for a quiet ride home.
He pulled into the parking lot and started walking up the stairs when he heard his name being called. "Who the fuck is calling my name?" He thought glancing over his shoulder to see y/n skipping towards him in a giddy mood. It was obvious they where doing a walk of shame as well.
"Have fun?" They asked linking their arms with his
"Could ask you the same" simon replied
Y/n grinned at him he gave a soft chuckle guiding both of them to the apartment
Y/n unlocked the door and saw that the dead bolt was on
"Fucking johnny" y/n said taking one of their sneakers off
"We could just knock" simon said
"Nah i got it" y/n replied unlacing their shoe and taking the shoelace out if it
Y/n quickly wrapped the shoelace around the deadbolt closed the door and pulled really hard with the sound of a click after. Y/n smiled and opened the door
"After you kind sir" they said tipping a imaginary hat
Simon shook his head and headed inside. Gaz was knocked out on the couch. He was curled up in a ball cuddling the small black cat that y/n adopted.
"Awwwww" y/n cooed taking a picture of them "this is going in the new years video." Y/n looked at simon
"hey, yon can sleep in my bed if youd like im gonna pass out in johnnys room plus ive got hot gossip about the person i fucked" they said with a wink then proceeded to trot down to johnnys room and opened the door gently
"Bestie ive got tea get your ass up" they said
Simon heard a loud flop and a groan coming from soap
"Its 6 in tha fuckin mornin y/n let me sleep!" Soap yelled. Y/n closed the door and all simon could hear was the giggling from y/n and soap grumbling from his wake.
Simon let out a sigh and walked to y/n room and proceeded to fall back asleep in their plushie ridden bed. Simon plucked his favorite one and fell asleep cuddling it.
"What a fuckin night" he sighed into the plushy eyes slowly closing drifting off into peaceful slumber
-------------------------------------
Hehe hope yall liked this
Kinda did a walk if shame this morning and made this fic in the uber home lol
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the-common-cowgirl · 8 months
Text
Greater of Two Evils - Part 4
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Summary: Reader makes a decision and goes home only to be met with a new type of monster.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Dark! Modern Aemond x Reader
Warnings: DD;DNE, Manipulation, PTSD elements, talks of abortion, pro-life/pro-choice debate, cursing
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: This chapter is HEAVY. I apologize in advance. It’s uncomfortable, however, essential to this fic. Sorry in advance!
Masterlist
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The apartment felt cold when you arose from your disturbed slumber. With an aching body, you had pulled yourself from the bed and searched the rooms for a sign of life; There was none. Aemond must have left, which meant this was your chance to slip out of his apartment and go back to your shared apartment with your brother without an immediate objection from Aemond. Or maybe, you’d just catch a flight or train and get out of Drone completely; go back home to your parents. The enticing idea danced around your mind for quite some time. You stared at the hardwood floors in contemplation.
Would he chase me all the way home?
Would he ruin my family?
Would he ruin my brother?
You found, rather unregretfully, each of your prior fears were becoming less prevalent in the wake of understanding that you were in true danger. Dorne wasn’t safe for you; not with your brother and not with Aemond. At least in the Riverlands, your father and mother could protect you. Save you from your brother’s wrath; and Aemond’s. 
Your eyes lit up with a newfound vigor and you set to work bagging up what little belongings you brought, calling an uber to your location and buying plane tickets for Riverrun. You were out of that apartment before Aemond could return and although it was lost on you, there was a vase of 8 red roses with a card that simply read “Stay” on the counter in the kitchen. You hadn’t noticed it…unfortunately.
Your plane landed late into the night and you were grateful your father was still waiting for you at the airport. His arms were spread wide, his smile genuine as he embraced you in a warm hug. You missed this, you missed genuine kindness from men; however, the last few years living with your brother and the last month or so knowing Aemond had left you a bit scarred, marred with trepidation, making you pull from the hug quicker than you’d like. Your father noticed, you could tell by the sideways smile that had appeared on his face.
“Hey dad,” you offered a tired smile while taking a step back and grasping the straps of your bookbag. 
Your father reached around you and took the bookbag from your trembling hands. “Traveling light, my little trout?” He put a hand on your back and the contact made a phantom wave of chills go through you, making you grimace as you began to walk out of the airport and toward the small parking lot of this two terminal airport. 
“Yeah, just wanted to see you guys while we were on break.” You forgot how cold it could get this far North and wrapped your arms around yourself.
“Weird time to have a break in University.” He commented but didn’t pursue. “How’s your brother, we never hear from him anymore.”
Your eyebrows furrowed and you continued to look at the ground as you walked, “What? I thought he was sending some money each month and-”
“Your mom told him to stop that a few years back, made her feel greedy. No, after he quit sending money, we hadn’t heard from him. I guess he’s real busy down there in Dorne?”
You nodded, trying to understand why your brother would lie about something so small as sending money each month to help your parents pay the bills.
“Don’t mention it to your mom. Makes her upset. I was just wondering-”
You nodded again as you two reached the car. You hopped in the passenger’s side as your father started the vehicle. “So he’s not even talking to you guys anymore?”
Your father shrugged, as he backed out of the parking space. “Nope. Your mother thinks he’s just busy is all.”
Your father had always been a terrible liar and you just caught a hint that he didn’t necessarily believe what your mom did. You wouldn’t push the issue yet.
“How are you guys doing on your bills if I might ask?”
Your father rolled his eyes, “That’s nothing that should concern you.”
“I’m an adult, I can handle it-”
“Hey, I was talking to Mrs. Tully the other day,” he changed the subject, “And she said that there will be an opening for an Early Education Teacher at the start of the next school year if that’s something you’re interested in?”
Your heart dropped, you hadn’t told him your brother forced you to change majors. Your dream of being a teacher for littles crushed. You swallow your self pity and lie to your father, “Thanks dad, I’ll talk to her.”
The drive home is filled with more small talk, mainly your father telling you the gossip of small town life. Who married who, who’s cheating who, and who died. You remind yourself that this is why you took a chance on Sunspear and moved in with your brother but then again, the gnawing feeling of ‘I brought this upon myself’ creeps back up into your throat and you have to remind yourself that you’re a victim and you are not the bad person or persons here.
The victim guilt doesn’t seem to leave you, even when you pull into your childhood driveway. 
Stepping through the threshold of the house, it smells like chocolate oatmeal cookies and home; you feel tension leave your body and finally smile.
Your mom comes around the corner with oven mitts on and you laugh, rushing to embrace her. “Oh my darling,” she says into your hair, “I’ve missed you so much.”
And that’s how the reunion goes, late into the night, catching up at the kitchen table, eating cookies when all three of you should be sleeping. It feels good to be home but you are awaiting the inevitable and it happens an hour in.
“I know you’re not on break,” your mom starts. She could never be fooled, even when you and your brother were kids, lying about who hit who first; it was always you…even when it wasn’t. Okay, maybe it was only you that couldn’t fool her. “Why are you here in the middle of the semester?”
You looked down to your cup of tea, it had gone cold with very little left in the mug. Could you really tell them, did you have a choice?
“Does it have something to do with that gash on your head? Or the wrapping around your wrist?”
You nodded, sighing a shaking breath. “That’s part of it.” Your voice was small, like when you were a kid taking your brother’s punishment.
“What’s the other part?” Her voice was stern and soft, coaxing the truth you could never hide from her, out.
“I-um- I-” How could you tell them? How could you explain to them that you’re pregnant? How would they react? Your body shook with anticipation and anxiety.
Your father put his hand on your back and you felt cold chills again. “It’s okay, it's okay to tell us.”
No it isn’t. You two will not understand. How could you understand? Is it not enough to have lived it but now I have to recount what fucking happened to me? I have to speak out loud the atrocities sinned against me by my own brother and a fucking demon of a human when I myself, havent even come to terms that I’ve been wronged? How can you understand when I don’t even understand?!
And so, the root of your pain fell out of your mouth without your brain deciphering your words, “I’m pregnant.”
Your father sighed deeply, your mother sat back in her chair, you continued staring at the little bit of tea left in the bottom of your mug; hoping the little bit of residue left from the tea bag would tell you something uplifting or helpful like the ancient art of tea leaves reading. Then the irony donned on you and you almost laughed.
Here I am, looking for comfort in my tea instead of my own parents. I had to leave Dorne for tea?
“Well,” your mother spoke up, “who’s the father?”
You nearly laughed again, “Someone you don’t know.”
“Is he willing to help you with-”
“I don’t want to keep it.”
Your mother scoffed, “You don’t have a choice in that now do you?”
Your eyes lifted from the cold cup to your mother’s eyes, warm and inviting; deceitful. “I do, actually.”
“Oh you do?” Maybe in Dorne but not in the Riverlands-”
“Then I’m not staying here, I’m going back to Dorne. I just wanted to let you guys know before I-”
“Before you murdered my grandchild?”
Your father scolds your mother for being so harsh with a hand lifted from the table, her name and shaking his head and there you are again, feeling like you brought this on yourself.
Why did I even come here?
“Does your brother know,” your father asks, breaking you from your trance of self-loathing.
You shook your head; unable to speak. Staring down at the tea again.
“What’s your plan? Drop out of school and move here? You could work at the elementary school as an aide until you finish your degree here?” Your father’s voice is kinder than your mother’s but not any less incessant.
“I don’t- I think I’m done. I can’t afford it.”
Your mother shifts into the table, closer to you and suddenly you feel put off by this proximity. “Well, that’s fine. You can get a job here, we will help pay for medical expenses and the baby’s care. If-” she starts, grabbing one of your hands with both of hers, they’re warm. “If you don’t want this baby after you give birth- that’s fine. I’ll accept full legal guardianship, no questions asked. But please, don’t rob us of a grandchild. Don’t be this person. You always loved kids, that’s why you went into early education.” She pauses, looking across the table to your father with tears in her eyes. “But give yourself the chance to look at your baby and make that decision.”
You chuckle, a tear falling from your eyes. “Yeah mom, but what if the eyes looking back at me are his?”
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cheriematt · 7 months
Text
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 — 𝒎. 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
synopsis — y/n gets car troubles in the parking lot of a book store and matt offers her a ride on his bike content warnings — use of 'y/n' , biker!matt , pet name (sweetheart) wc — 1357
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Y/n joyfully walked Barnes & Noble, carefully reading the backs of books, selecting ones she would like to purchase. Her headphones filled with her favorite songs, filling her more joy.
As she was reading the back of a dark romance book when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. Y/n removes her headphones, slinging them around her neck, her brows furrow as she looks at the man in front of her.
He lowered his arm, “Hey, I just wondering if you could direct me towards the, uh, journals?” The girl smiles warmly, setting the book down on the shelf before turning back to him, “Of course!” Y/n begins to weave through the different aisles of books, finally stopping at the stationary section, which was more of a space for anything that isn’t a book.
“Here you go, hope you find what you need.” She smiles once more, turning around on her heel, going back to the section she was previously in. Y/n continues to scan through books, finding a few more before deciding to stop herself. As she browsed the book store, she couldn’t help but thinking about the boy she’d encounted not too long ago.
As she walked to the cash register, she couldn’t help but purposely walk past the journal section, hoping she’ll see him. Y/n frowned when the brunette boy was no where to be found, she shook it off, knowing that her actions were pointless and her getting worked up over it was ridiculous.
The girl paid for her books, walking out into the parking lot. As she stalked closer to her car, she grabbed her keys out from her purse. Unlocking the black vehicle, she opened the door and sat herself in the driver’s seat. She sat her paper bag filled with books in the passenger seat, proceeding to close the driver’s side door.
Y/n retrieved the keys that she had temporarly discarded to the cup holder, fiddling with the ring before landing on her car key. She inserted the key into it’s slot, when she turned the key to start the vehicle, nothing happened. Her brows furrowed as panic flooded through her body, the girl tried once more, but got the same disapointing result.
She got out of the car, popping the hood. Y/n looked around the guts of the car, she knew nothing about cars but still looked to see if anything looked out the ordinary. As she blindly looked around the car’s mechanics, a voice appeared behind her.
“You alright?” Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin, quickly turning around to face the voice. Of course, it was him. The beautiful boy from the book store, “I— Um, yeah.” The brunette smirked, his head cocking to the side as he watched the girl try to form a audible sentence.
“Car troubles, sweetheart?” Her throat bobbed before she nodded, “I’ll be honest, I’m not too knowledgeable on cars, but if you need a ride..” Y/n’s brows furrowed, “Accepting rides from strangers is ‘How to Die: 101’.” The boy laughed, shaking his head playfully.
“Smart girl,” he responded. “I don’t even know your name, you don’t even know mine.” The boy couldn’t help the smile appearing on his face, “Well, that’s not a hard thing to learn, sweetheart.” Y/n’s cheeks redden, she looks down to the asphalt than up to the man. “Are you gonna keep calling me that?” He nods, “Til you tell me to stop.” She smiles, leaning against the car.
“It’s Matt,” he states abruptly. “What— Oh, yeah. I’m Y/n.” Matt simply nods, looking around at the dark setting. “Well, I think we’ve met your requirements—knowing each other’s names and all—so are you now willing to accept my offer?” The girl frowns, knowing that saying yes isn’t smart, but it’s just as dangerous as getting into an Uber.
Y/n bites the inside of her cheek, “What about the car?” She looks at the currently useless vehicle, then to Matt. “I can get it towed,” he suggested. “I’ll get it towed,” she corrected. Matt nodded, a small smirk apparent on his face. “C’mon, get your stuff.” The girl looked at him in confusion, “I—” He turns back to her, “I have a place for you to put your things, c’mon sweetheart.” Y/n sighed in defeat, proceeding to grab her things.
Once she’s gathered her small collection of personal items, she begins to follow Matt through the parking lot, the street lights illuminating the contours of his beautifully sculpted face.
They soon arrive at Matt’s motorcycle, Y/n freezes in her tracks. “Matt,” she whispers timidly. He turns around immediately, “Yeah, sweetheart?” The girl looked from the bike to him, “I’ve never backpacked before,” The boy smirked, “Well you’ve seem to got the lingo down,” Y/n scowls at him, “It’s not funny, Matt.” The grin was quickly erased from Matt’s face, “It’s not that bad, sweetheart. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, just lean when I lean and you’ll be good. Okay?” She bites her lip nervously, “Matt, I’m scared.” This made Matt frown, he didn’t want her to be scared, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I won’t let you get hurt, okay?” He placed his slender hands on her arms, trying to offer her comfort.
“O—Okay.” Matt rubs her shoulder soothingly, slowly walking her closer to the bike. He sets her things in the pouch he had on the side of the vehicle. Y/n stood by the side as Matt got onto his seat, “You’re up, sweetheart.” She swallows nervously, nodding her head as she walked closer to the bike. The girl did as Matt instructed, putting her right foot on the peg before slinging her left leg over. The boy grabbed his spare helmet, sliding over her head.
“Good job, baby. You did great, now where am I dropping you off?” She told him her address, waiting for him to pull directions before they set off. Y/n held her breath as he started to drive, clinging onto him for dear life. At their first red light, he informed her that she was okay. “I’m just scared, Matt.” The boy smiles, though she couldn’t she it through the helmet.
“Green,” Y/n commented simply. His head whipped around, quickly removing his left foot from the ground to continue their journey to her house.
Y/n rested her head against his back, closing her eyes and trying to not let her nerves get to her. His body warmth comforted her slightly, she shivered at the frigid air, cursing herself internally for not putting on more layers.
Matt felt this action, at the next red light, he lifted his helmet shield, “You cold, sweetheart?” She nodded, her teeth clashing against each other as a reaction to the bitter weather. “You want my jacket?” Y/n shook her head, lifting her shield as well. “I don’t want you to be cold,” she pointed out. He quickly shook his head, “I have a sweater under this, I’ll be fine, sweetheart.” The girl sighed and Matt knew she had given in, “Fine, but hurry because this light is gonna turn soon.” He smirked and quickly removed his jacket and gave it to her. Y/n slid her arms into the sleeves and wrapped her arms back around Matt.
They continued to her house, about five minutes later they arrived in front of her home. Matt stopped the vehicle and put up the kickstand, “Here we are,” he removed his helmet, shaking out his hair. Y/n took hers off as well handing it to him, grabbing her things out of his pouch.
“Should I pick you up tomorrow, to get your car?” She nodded, “That would be great, but don’t feel like you have to,” He smirked, “I’ll be here at noon.” The girl blushed and nodded, getting off of the bike.
“I’ll see you tommorrow then,” she smiled before walking over to her house. Y/n looked back and Matt was sat on his bike, watching her. The girl walked in and then looked out the window, watching him drive away.
Y/n smiled the rest of the night, she had never been more excited for the next day.
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Text
Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé
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GIF by kykygif
Chapter 3 : Unfortunate Circumstances
Chapter 2
Plot: Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, y/n's car breaks down and only Kylian is on hand to help.
Word Count: 1771
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"Shit, shit, shit!" y/n yelled, slamming her palm into the steering wheel several times.
No matter how many times she twisted the key, her car's engine refused to start. It kept revving up, giving her a snippet of hope, before the rumbling noise died out again.
For a little while, she sat, her forehead against the wheel. It was dark outside, which since it was July, was saying something. After Kylian's backhanded Instagram story yesterday, she'd been dying at the office and had only managed to escape her ever-mounting workload at this late hour.
Now, thanks to her stupid, ten-year-old car, her entire night was ruined as well as her evening and her day. Besides the night security team, nobody else was at the facility. She'd have to order an Uber, which would take forever to come, given that the facility was miles from the city. Plus, paying for an Uber would bankrupt her, on top of the mechanic fees she was going to have to pay.
One final time, she placed her hand on the key, "Come on, baby, you can do this."
No, it couldn't.
For the second day in a row, she sat alone and let out a loud yell, a roar really, except this time she received a response. There was a loud knock on her window and she glanced up, a frown immediately descending on her features.
Right outside her window, Kylian Mbappé stood, a self-satisfied grin on his face. When she just glared at him, he raised his hand and waved condescendingly.
Mortified, she wound down her window, the fact that her window was manually rolled down only adding to her embarrassment. Inch by inch, it slowly squeaked down, while she twisted the handle, and she glanced back up at him, sucking on her teeth awkwardly.
"You okay in there?" he asked peering down at her.
"Peachy." she declared, "Can I help you?"
"Car trouble?"
"No. I just like sitting in here, don't worry."
Unimpressed, he frowned, "Do you need a lift?"
"No, thank you." she cleared her throat, "I'll just... be fine, thanks."
"Get out of the car; I'm giving you a lift. Which arrondissement do you live in?"
"I don't need a lift, thank you, Kylian."
He frowned, folding his arms over his chest, "Get out of the car."
Sinking down in her seat, she stared straight ahead, out the windshield, arms folded over her chest, "I'm perfectly happy here."
"You can't sit in your car all night to spite me. You need to get home."
"I'll be fine." she declared, getting back to work winding the window up, "Goodnight."
As soon as she finished the window, he swung her door open, "Come on." he declared, sternly.
"Do you always demand random women get into your car?" she asked, refusing to stare anywhere but out of her windshield.
Grabbing her arm and pulling her out himself, he murmured, "Seulement les jolies."
A scowl rested on her face but she followed him to his car, well aware that he was right, she really did need a lift home- not that she'd ever tell him that. His car was nice, a large, blacked-out Mercedes, the kind of car a soccer mom would drive, which she found quite amusing. Hesitantly, she climbed into the passenger seat, relaxing into the comfortable leather.
As he started the engine, she mumbled, "Thank you."
He glanced out the window at her beat-up little car, as he drove past it in the parking lot, "Why do you drive a toaster?" he asked, not looking over at her, "Enrique been skimping on your paycheque?"
"I'm yet to get my first paycheque. Besides, I just moved to Paris, do you know how expensive that is?"
As much as she had a point; his car made hers look like a horse and cart. Besides, her lump of metal on wheels probably should've been scrapped before she was even born. She settled into his heated seat, watching the GPS on the screen.
"What, did you waste all your money on pantsuits?" he asked.
"I'm wearing a skirt."
Why did she say that as though he hadn't noticed?
They both settled into awkward silence, as he pulled out of the facility. After a few minutes, he quietly said, "Where am I taking you?"
She leant forward, typing her address into the car's GPS. He watched her and commented, "You live in the 18th?" At first, he looked a little puzzled, maybe concerned, though she highly doubted that as she wasn't too sure he experienced emotions besides horny and amused. However, when his face morphed into a smirk (an amused smirk), she already knew what was coming, "Are you a-"
"No, I'm not a fucking prostitute." she finished for him.
He grinned widely as she scowled furiously, "I was joking, jeez. That's a rough neighbourhood."
"Unfortunately, not everyone in this city can afford to live ten metres from the Eiffel Tower in a twenty-bedroom penthouse."
"You're the head of PR at PSG, I don't think you're exactly on minimum wage."
"Well, until two weeks ago I was just some PR junior at Chelsea." she paused, "This was a big promotion but I know how temporary these can be. I'm living below my means because I know my means can change like the wind."
He puffed out air, "Do you never wanna treat yourself though?"
"Easier to treat yourself when you make 2 million euros a week."
"Only if you round up." he muttered, "What were you doing at the office that late anyway?"
Flatly, she asked, "Do you really want me to say it?"
"Dealing with me?"
"You know, I relaxed for all of five seconds last night. It was so blissful until I saw your Instagram."
He contemplated apologising for maybe five seconds before remembering that it was a she-devil trapped in a supermodel's body, who sat in his passenger seat. "You follow my Instagram?"
"Literally my job."
"I'm not going to follow you back."
"Didn't ask you to."
"But you want me to, secretly. I mean, how cool would your little brother think you are?"
"I don't have a little brother." she shook her head, "Every time I think you have any redeeming qualities or you seem the least bit likeable, you just wreck it all."
"I can be very likeable." he shrugged.
"That doesn't mean you're likeable or nice. Anyone can lie."
"But I am likeable and I am very nice." he declared.
"I see, so it's just me who gets this side of you?"
"Yep." he popped his 'p'. She didn't reply.
After a while, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. She turned, casting a glare in his direction. Her eyes dragged down to his biceps, bulging out of his tight t-shirt and- No. She wasn't drooling over his muscles, no matter how big they were or how much she wanted to touch them. No! Sure, he was handsome, but he was a complete ass! He'd just admitted that!
She sighed, "I don't hate you."
"Well, hate is a very strong word." he conceded.
"Okay. But I don't hate you."
"Apology accepted."
"It wasn't an apology."
"Well, if it was I would accept it."
She shook her head, turning to look out of the window to hide the slight smile creeping onto her face, "I have nothing to apologise for."
"You ruined my reputation."
"You brought it on yourself, really. Besides, you'll recover."
He hesitated, "The old head of PR never cancelled me."
"The old head of PR got fired for a reason, and you're not cancelled."
"I feel pretty cancelled."
She rolled her eyes, as they approached the city, leaning her head on the cold window. They cruised through Paris, the street narrowing more and more the further into the urban landscape they grew.
As they neared Montmartre, she quietly said, "You can just drop me here if you want, you don't need to go out of your way."
Dryly, he laughed, "No." he softened his tone, "You shouldn't be alone at night here, it's not safe."
"It's fine. I'm a black belt in kung fu."
"What, really?"
"No. But I'm fine."
"What, have you got someone waiting to protect you at home?"
"Nope, but it's not the 18 hundreds, I don't need a chaperone."
"So there's no boyfriend in the picture or-"
"Are you seriously trying to flirt with me after lecturing me for cancelling you?"
"No, I just thought you would. You know, a good-looking woman like yourself, who knows the Kylian Mbappé. What guy wouldn't be interested?"
"Well, I don't officially know you. You don't follow me back on Instagram, after all."
Without even thinking about it, he laughed, leaning back into his seat He shrugged, "Hey, if you release a statement displaying PSG's adoration of me, maybe I'll consider liking a couple of your posts."
"Have you ever spoken to a woman before?" she asked.
"I'm not flirting." he huffed.
"So you're just asking me if I have a boyfriend because I'm good-looking and you're curious?"
"Yeah. I'm just being friendly and sociable." he hesitated before adding, "And nice and likeable. Your name is y/n... something, you don't have a brother, you don't have a boyfriend, you're not very good at kung fu, you're wearing a skirt, you make less than 2 million euros a week, you used to work at Chelsea, and you now live but don't work in the red light district."
She was a little taken aback but she didn't let it show on her face. After a moment or two, she declared, "I have a brother."
"You said you didn't?"
"I said I didn't have a little brother. He's two years older than me."
"And he's a big Kylian Mbappé fan?"
"Nah, he thinks you're-" she cut herself off, clearing her throat, "No, not really."
"He thinks I'm what?" he asked, glancing at her.
She hesitated before admitting, "A conceited prick who causes his sister week-long stomach aches."
"Oh."
"You asked," she mumbled.
"Maybe he has a point. But I can be very nice."
"You keep saying that. I'm still waiting on the evidence."
He pulled the car over, "You'll see."
She glanced out the window, up at her apartment block, then turned back to him, "Thank you for the lift, Kylian."
"You're welcome, y/n."
She opened the door and climbed out of the car, a satisfied grin on her face as her back was to him. Then, she headed inside, unaware that his eyes were fixed on her until her front door closed. He watched her leave the car and cross the street, just to make sure the freaks that hung around in her dodgy neighbourhood didn't try anything with her. Then, even once the door had closed, he watched for a couple more minutes, just to be sure.
Not because he cared about her of course. Because he didn't. He made that very clear in his mind. Just because he was a nice person. He'd do the same for anyone. Even y/n.
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