#‟it makes my eyes water every time i watch it‟
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match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them
word count: 10.2k
contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n
this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here
. . .
“Again,”
Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court.
She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,”
She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve.
“Again,”
Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already.
“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously.
She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”
“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.”
“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts.
“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil.
This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay.
However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one.
She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.
Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.
“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate.
Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time.
Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench.
He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.
Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"
By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.
“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight.
“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.
“We are training properly,” He argued.
“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”
“And?”
“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?”
“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.”
Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”
She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”
Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.”
Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.
As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own.
She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face.
“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”
He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.
“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained.
“You made this for me?” She frowned.
“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles.
Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays.
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman.
“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury.
“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual.
“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park.
She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply.
. . .
After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed.
Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam.
Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years.
Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on.
She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie.
She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment.
The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it.
She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song.
‘Nothing to be justified yet
She the first I'm running with
She the one that get my collar
She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’
. . .
The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her.
“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.
Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”
“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”
“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”
Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?”
Y/N frowned, “What?”
“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained.
“Oh I don’t know about that-”
“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.
“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied.
“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.
“You asked him before me?”
“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”
“Why didn’t he ask me?”
Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?”
Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too.
“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”
Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.
. . .
It was raining outside.
Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour.
“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,”
“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”
“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”
Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort.
“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously.
She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?”
He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”
“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck.
“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it.
“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked.
“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained.
“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.
“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied.
“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her.
Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them.
As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.”
Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,”
Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”
Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”
Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”
“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.
“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.
“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words.
Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”
Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it.
“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked.
Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"
Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?”
Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."
"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.
Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?”
“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting.
“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged.
“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.
“I study,” Y/N stated.
“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”
She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life.
“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”
Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.
"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.
“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled.
As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently.
“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”
Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”
Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently.
He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”
Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park.
Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked.
“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief.
“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.
Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”
“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”
She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”
“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,”
“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted.
Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on.
“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.
“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”
“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.
“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”
“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot.
“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”
Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward.
“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”
This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,”
Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”
“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears.
“Atta girl,” He beamed.
Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive.
“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed.
Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car.
“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her.
“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved.
“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played.
Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”
Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face.
“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”
He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him.
“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun.
“Okay,” Y/N nodded.
He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.
“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile.
“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning.
“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”
Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.”
The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”
“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.
Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained.
Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”
Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”
“And you can do the same,” She says.
Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.”
She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,”
“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”
“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same.
“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits.
Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.
“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.”
Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.”
Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before.
She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her.
. . .
Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.
“Again,” Harry drawled.
Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.
“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.
Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything.
“I just need to win,” She mumbled.
“Get up,” Harry ordered.
Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.
“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her.
He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.
Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm.
“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”
Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.”
The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.
Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted.
“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”
“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”
“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.
“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.
“Come to my place,” He offers.
“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down.
“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”
She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.
Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment.
Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax.
The day after, they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.
Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.
The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot.
“For now,” He says.
Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.
“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor.
She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.
Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.”
“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.”
Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.”
“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.”
Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?”
Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”
Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question.
“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”
“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge.
Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”
Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.
“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?”
“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”
“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.
Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.”
"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.
Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.
Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."
Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.
"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.
"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"
"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.
"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"
"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.
Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."
Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.
Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."
As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”
Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.
Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"
Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.
"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.
"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.
But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife.
"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."
Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."
"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."
"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.
As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.
"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.
The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.
Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.
Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.
"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.”
“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears.
Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.
Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much.
“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke.
“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.
He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.”
“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.
“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.
Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him.
“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.”
Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”
Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”
His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them.
She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him.
. . .
It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn.
He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher.
On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker.
Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone.
“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it.
“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.
“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”
Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”
“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”
He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks.
Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking.
Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder.
She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to.
“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention.
Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire.
“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her.
“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder.
Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.
When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.
When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.
“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat.
But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.
“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own.
Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said.
Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”
Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot.
Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him.
They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.
The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.
As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.
Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.
But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.
"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.
"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.
“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.
He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?
He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling.
He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.
The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck.
After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.
As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would.
Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood.
If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis.
He was in trouble.
. . .
People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood.
“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”
“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win.
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her.
That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.
Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to.
Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator.
Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.
“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her.
“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him.
“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”
“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before.
Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”
Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”
Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.
“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”
Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.
Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county.
Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.
#fic rec#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#tennisplayer!y/n#tennis rivals#writing#harry edward styles#harry styles fic#fanfiction#one direction#harry styles blog#fanfic rec
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A Serene Embrace
Husband!Aventurine x Reader
Synopsis : A soft homely evening with your husband Aventurine
Warning : domestic maybe?, very soft and fluffy, you cook him dinner, cuddling and the usual!
A/n : After what he went through, he deserves only the best. Happy reading!
"How was work?" You asked, smiling at your husband as you picked up the dishes from the table, placing them into the sink.
"It was fine." He said, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he sighed softly, continuing, "I had to set the plan for my next destination. It was a little tiring."
His chair screeched against the floor. You hummed, questioning as you started doing the dishes. " So is the layout set for it then?"
Two strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, surprising you. "No it's not done yet. It'll take a month or two it's a long one." He mumbled softly, burying his face into your neck. Peppering gentle kisses across it his hand tried holding your soapy ones to stop you from doing the dishes.
"Let me do them. You must be tired from your work too." You chuckled softly, pushing his hands away as you continued doing them.
"I'm not that tired. I took off early today from the gallery. I wanted to cook something good for you." Turning your head back you leaned a little, placing a soft kiss against his cheek.
He nodded in response, sleep evident in his action as he buried his face again, his both hands slipping inside your shirt, one just laying on your stomach while the other's thumb rubbed shapes across your belly comfortingly.
"Why don't you go and lay down? I'll join you as soon as you're done." You tried reasoning, but your husband stood on his decision.
Shaking his head, his arms tightened around your waist. "Been working too much lately. Want to spend time with my Treasure."
Both pity and warmth blossomed in your chest as you set to doing the dishes faster as he stood there, his head propped on your shoulder, watching your hands rub soap on each dish before washing it with water, making them squeaky clean as you piled them into the rack.
"Okay I'm done" You announced, drying your hands on a towel as you pried his arms away from you.
He gazed down at you as you placed the towel back in its place.
One hand came up to hold the side of your face as the other wrapped around you and pulled you closer.
You breath shuddered as you felt his thumb rub over your bottom lip, his eyes never leaving the subject of attention. No matter how long it is that you've been together, it still felt like day one with him.
He bent down slowly, tilting your head as his lips brushed against yours, his breathtaking eyes still not leaving yours before he fully pressed them, closing his eyes and pulling you closer.
You pulled away after a while, breathless as you looked from beneath the lashes to see his hooded gaze on you.
Placing both of your palms against his face, you ran your thumbs against the apples of his cheeks. "Let's get to bed."
..…..
"I'm sorry for coming home so late Treasure. I really don't mean to. It's just-" you hush him with a stern voice.
"Aven" squeezing your arms around him tighter, a warning, Daring him to continue.
He picked up both your legs, placing them across his lap as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you more into his side.
"Okay Okay I won't repeat that again I promise." He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on top of your head.
You huffed a 'good', placing your head on his chest, listening to the way his heart thumped with a rhythmic beat.
You felt fingers in your hair, the tips rubbing against your scalp in back and forth in motion as you felt his chest vibrate with each word he spoke.
"Does it ever get annoying? Having to move houses every few months due to my work I mean?" His voice was soft asking this, almost vulnerable as you lifted your head, looking at him.
"No." You answered, smiling softly and you almost felt your husband's eyes rack over your face for any sign of lies.
You explained. "It's not annoying. I don't really mind switching houses or my jobs. Home is not a structure. Home is you. Wherever that is."
A look of mild surprise took over your husband's features before he pulled you back against him, placing his head on top of your head as he closed his eyes, trying to drink back the wetness that suddenly pooled his eyes.
Running a steady hand against your back, he released a sigh to steady himself as his mind flooded with past memories.
He pushed them back, regaining his consciousness back in this moment as he pulled away a little, letting you rest against him comfortably once again.
"I love you Treasure." Kissing your forehead he looked down, eyes going soft as they took in your peaceful features.
A gentle rumble left his chest as he whispered to no one in particular "So much for saying you're not tired."
He readjusted you in a more comfortable position, kissing the top of your head once again "I don't really think i deserve it but thank you for doing so much for me, Treasure."
Aventurine Masterlist
Masterlist
Written by yours truly
#x reader#fluff#x you#x you fluff#xreader#xyou#honkai fluff#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr fluff#hsr aventurine#hsr#honkai posting#honkai x reader#honkai star rail#honkai x you#kakavasha#aventurine x you#star rail aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine#husband!aventurine#husband x reader#husband au#xreader fluff#x reader fluff#fluff oneshot
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Just What I Needed(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)
warnings: handjob, ball/testicle play, softness, fluff, Nanami is a bit of a sub here, gentle loving
word count: 1k
pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
summary: it's been a long week for Kento, so you surprise him with a handjob in the bath.
a/n: The artwork of Nanami in the onsen isn't mine, I couldn't find the proper credits! If someone knows who made this lovely pic of Kento, plz lemme know so I can properly credit them!!! Dividers by the lovely benkeibear!
Taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly @namikyento @benkeibear
@kenpachisbrat @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82
Kento feels the weight on his shoulders. It’s been a very long day at work on top of a very long week. Everything that could go wrong ended up being catastrophic. He found himself in all kinds of problems and issues. Gojo had often leaned on him for a lot of things this week as well, and Itadori-kun had been eager to learn so many new things.
So by this point in Nanami’s week, he is quite exhausted. The only thing he’s looking forward to is spending the evening with you. That thought alone is what keeps him going. He takes the train home, wishing to be close to you as soon as possible. His mind is filled with thoughts of greeting you at the door, covering your face in kisses and hugging you tight.
The minute he walks through the door, he’s bombarded with soft kisses from you. His heart flutters at the familiar scent of your perfume, the way your lips seem to soothe his weary soul.
“Welcome home, Ken!” You cheerfully greet him.
His tired eyes meet yours and he feels himself coming back to life. “Good to see you, darling.”
You gently help him out of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles before hanging it up on the peg at the door. Then he removes his shoes, slipping on the comfortable and well-worn house slippers. You lead him towards the bathroom, and this surprises him. He smiles and lets out a contented sigh when he notices the tub all prepared for him.
“I know you had a really rough week,” you explain as you help him out of his blazer. “I wanted to spoil you tonight. I’ve even prepared your favorite meal, it’ll be ready after your bath.”
Nanami swears he’s gone to heaven. He allows you to undress him, and he watches in awe as you make sure to properly fold all his clothing. Then you start kissing him, your soft hands caressing him all over. You’ve always made him feel weak in the best way possible.
Then once he’s completely undressed, you help him into the bath. You sit on a stool next to the tub, grabbing a soft cotton washcloth. Nanami sighs as the warm water and bubbles are already soothing him. His sore muscles begin to loosen as the water does its magic.
“Feeling a little better?”
Kento looks over at you, smiling shyly. “I am. You always know how to spoil me.”
You take your time washing and cleaning him. You use your fancy body wash, the one that smells like sandalwood, jasmine and vanilla. It invades his senses, making him feel so secure and safe in this bath. He doesn’t remember the last time he even allowed himself to feel comforted like this.
“You’re so precious to me, Ken.” You press a kiss to his temple as your hand wanders further down his body. “I need to make sure you’re well taken care of.”
He gasps the minute you caress his thighs. He feels his cock twitching to life. His amber eyes fill with softness and lust as you begin to gently begin to wash his dick. You smirk softly, letting out a girlish giggle.
“Does my sweetheart need a little TLC?” You tease him, but you’re already wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length.
“P-please, darling. Please don’t tease me,”
You lean over and begin to kiss him. He’s moaning as your hand strokes him slowly. The way you squeeze the tip gently every time your hand goes up, makes him shudder. Shivers run down his spine from the exquisite pleasure. He arches his back, desperate to feel even more pleasure.
The soap coats your hand so perfectly, giving it the most sensual glide. The bubbles cover his body, making him feel like he’s enveloped in the most cozy and warm hug. Then your other hand joins the other. First you stimulate the tip, making him moan. Precum dribbles from the slit, making things even more slippery. Then you drift down to his heavy balls that are just begging for attention.
“Poor sweetheart, you’re all pent up.”
Kento all but sobs the minute you begin to massage his balls. His cock twitches a few more times in your hand, reminding you of your first task. Slowly, you continue to stroke him. Kento lets out such cute moans and whimpers for you.
Your fingers tighten ever so slightly, and you speed up just a little more. His hips begin to buck up into your touch, begging and pleading with you not to stop. His cheeks and the top of his ears are flush and pink, his eyes are half-lidded and pupils blown with lust.
“You wanna cum?” you ask him, leaning in to kiss his lips.
“Please baby. Please please please,”
You continue to kiss him, your tongue gliding against his bottom lip. He parts his lips, groaning as your tongues touch. You don’t falter in your rhythm. It’s so perfect right now.
“Such a good man, you work so hard. You deserve some spoiling.”
Kento whines, “I’m—fuck, I’m close.”
You don’t slow down. You ever so gently tug on his balls, massaging them. Kento’s whines reverberate against the walls, and they grow in decibels as he gets closer and closer. You kiss him hungrily once more, praising him for being such a good boy for you. The minute you nip at his bottom lip, that’s all it takes for him to cum hard.
“Fuck! I’m cumming!” His eyes roll back in his head and his hips jerk with every spurt of hot cum.
Ropes of his seed begin to coat your hand. You feel every throb and jerk, and you even get to feel his balls draw up. You stroke him to completion, kissing him softly. You slowly pull away, giving him a few moments to breathe and relax before you wash him once more.
“You always know just how to make me feel better,” Kento says, smiling shyly at you.
“It’s because I adore you.”
#bacon.writes#nanami x reader#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#anime smut#nanami x y/n#nanami x reader smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami fluff#jjk nanami#kento nanami#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami smut#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#kento x reader#nanami imagine#jjk imagine
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The Rebound
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3194
Summary: It's been a long time since Cooper has felt a loving touch. Perhaps a little too long because he's not entirely sure what to do with you.
CW: Semi-slow burn, smut, P in V, creampies, loving on a crispy man who needs it real bad. Prob ooc because this is my first fallout/reader fic ever (sowwy)
Cooper was a hard man to break. Downright standoffish and a straight-up jackass. At least that was what he was like when you first met him. Charismatic, confident, an excellent shot, but god, was he a prick. That, though, you had gotten used to the longer you traveled together. As the months dragged on, that standoffishness started to shed from the Ghoul.
It started with random small talk picking up between you two as you travel between settlements. For the first few months together, it was mostly silence or business talk traded between you. Who was the next bounty? Where were they last? Can you scavenge while I get intel? It was all just business. That was until one night, Cooper started making small talk between their travels. Then came the soft conversations by the fire when they settled for the night. Every week, the weight of that duster and those guns on his back seemed to lighten the more he talked to you. Then came the offered cantine of water on a scorching day. Already an out-of-the-ordinary gesture from him, more so because your cantine wasn’t empty and he was offering his for a sip.
You took it.
The small talk turned into jokes with hushed laughs between you. As Cooper drawled on, you watched him over the campfire's tip. The light it threw cast beautiful shadows along Cooper's features, and when that crooked ass grin warped his lips more and more, you felt a tinge in the center of your chest. A little candlelight flickering and quivering whenever he spoke in that long drawl. It blazed when his eyes flicked up at you, staring at you in a way that made it seem like he could see right through you. It was like he could see that candle burning just for him.
Now, when the two of you slept, you were no longer on opposite sides of the room. You both started to creep toward each other every night until you were only a few feet apart. Cooper never laid down when he slept. Instead, he leaned against the wall and semi-slouched. He’d tilt his hat downward until the brim hid his eyes. Finally, he would cross his legs and arms before drifting off. You, on the other hand, preferred your bedroll. While not much, it was still better than the barren floor or the questionable mattress they occasionally came across.
Tonight, a storm was coming through, bringing billowing winds and harsh rain that pounded the roof of the abandoned gas station they had sheltered in. You had tried hours ago to sleep, but the chill from the wind crept between the broken boards and cracked windows. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get warm in any position. You flopped over one more time, now facing where Cooper was slouched against a wall a good two feet from you. His brim was cast down, covering his eyes as usual, but from how still he was, you figured he had fallen asleep a while ago.
Chewing your lip, you hesitated momentarily before scooting towards him and bridging the gap. Snuggling up against his hips and thighs, you sighed contently. He smelled of gunpowder and smoke, typical. Slumber tugged at your eyelids, and you finally drifted off within minutes.
A light sleeper for obvious reasons in this hellhole of a wasteland, Cooper had awoken the second you had touched his leg. He waited for you to settle before opening one eye halfway and staring down his brim at you. Studying your peaceful expression and how you pressed your nose into his thigh. Two rouge strands of your hair had fallen against your cheek, slightly curled at the tips.
A former version of himself would have shoved you away, telling you to git back to your side of the station. Except the current version of himself felt something swirling around in his chest. It was slightly uncomfortable but not all too unfamiliar.
It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for over a hundred years, something that longed for that little touch and craved so much more. It flopped around behind his ribcage, and he grits his teeth in annoyance.
Sighing and looking back down, he shifts gently. Bringing one hand down and outstretching two fingers, he tenderly brushes the hair strands behind your ear. With that, he recrosses his arms and sits back, eyes closing.
As the months continue, so do they, but Cooper is different at night. His expressions are somber, his eyes distant while he sharpens his knives. Deep in thought, sometimes it takes calling his name twice before he looks up at you.
“Coop, are you alright?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed together in concern. You were annoyed when he smiled and chuckled softly, telling you he was peaches and cream. You didn’t push the matter and didn’t have to because he mentioned his daughter three nights later.
He spoke slowly, hesitantly, wondering if he should even be saying any of this to you in the first place. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, not anymore, anyway.
He spoke, and you listened, night after night, as more pieces of the puzzle of this mystery man fell together. Under all those clothes and behind all those guns, Cooper was still just a man—an ordinary man.
“You’ll find her Coop,” Reaching over from where you were sitting at his side, you placed your hand on his wrist and gently squeezed it, “I know you will.”
Cooper didn’t respond, but a smile so tiny it almost went missed curved the corners of his lips.
As you lay in your bedroll that night, you felt something shift against your front. Opening your tired eyes halfway, you watched through blurry vision as Cooper lay down next to you. His back was to you, but you scooted against his spine without a second thought. Resting your cheek between his shoulder blades, you closed your eyes again.
Eventually, Cooper lay facing you. Without saying anything, he would hook your waist and tug you against his chest. Then, you would feel him resting his chin on your head. The first time he had done it, your face burned so hot you feared you might catch ablaze. If Cooper noticed, he didn’t say. No matter, you didn’t want him to stop, and you were sure he didn’t want you to, either.
In truth, Cooper would be lying if he ever said he didn’t like the sensation of your small palms against his chest. He loved how you played with the buttons on his dirty shirt until you fell asleep.
Each night, you did the same thing, chest to chest, until finally, one night, you nuzzled your face into the nook of Cooper's neck. Soft and plump lips grazed across his scarred skin before placing a gentle kiss on Cooper’s jawline.
Immediately, Cooper stiffened against you. You felt his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back pause. You heard him swallow suddenly, and your stomach sank as you expected him to push you away and scold you.
Instead, Cooper cleared his throat and nestled his chin harder against the top of your head.
Days in the wasteland dragged on usually, but the following days felt like an eternity since that night. Bounty after bounty, caps collected, and supplies scavenged, Cooper never once brought it up. Instead, he carried on as usual, which, in truth, made your heartache.
It was possible that even after all of this time, the candle he had ablaze in your chest was not mutually lit.
What you didn’t know was that Cooper's heart had bounced out of his chest and into his throat that night. He didn’t think it was even possible for his cheeks to flush, but damn, they felt hot. It was alien; over 200 years of feeling the kiss of bullets, he had forgotten what a real one felt like. It was incredible but also terrifying.
He had loved, and he had lost.
The nights following the kiss, Cooper waited for you to make a move again, but you didn’t. You slept with your back to him and didn’t move when he pressed against you and draped an arm over your waist. After a few minutes, he felt your fingers intertwine with him in a gentle grip.
The two of you stayed linked that night.
The following night, Cooper watched as you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your boots, getting ready to sleep after a long day of tracking a bounty through the unforgiving sun. Reaching up, you released your hair from its loose bun and let your locks fall messily over your shoulders.
You half turned when you felt Cooper grab your hand. Watching him bring it to his lips, he kissed your palm and pressed your hand against his cheek.
The brim of his hat temporarily hid his eyes, but when he looked up at you, your heart fluttered. No words were exchanged as you slowly leaned forward, having to stand on your toes even to come close to his marred lips. Centimeters away, you paused, but Cooper filled the gap.
The first kiss was gentle, and your free hand came up to cup Cooper’s other cheek. When you broke away, it wasn’t for long. Reconnecting, your kisses became hungrier, and your hands on Cooper's cheeks drifted downward. Running over his neck, then his collar and chest. You worked your way down as he kissed you until you palmed at his groin.
“Wait,” Cooper pulled away suddenly, stepping back, “wait…fuck” He turned on his heels, pacing back and forth.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, watching him shake his head and curse to himself. “Coop?”
Once he stopped pacing, he sighed and shook his head before glancing over his shoulder at you.
“I don’t think I have it in me no more, sweetheart.” He laughed softly at himself.
“What do you mean?” Taking a step towards him, she watched as he finally turned to face her.
“It’s… been a long time. A really long time, sugar.” Too long, really, at least, that is what he thought anyway. Nobody had touched him like this since before the bombs. Nobody had loved him. The only thing he knew now was blood, bullets, and ass jerky.
“Coop,” You said softly, moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his towering frame, “let me take care of you for once.” There was silence before Cooper rested his chin atop your head and laughed. Slowly, his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumbs dipping under the fabric of your shirt to rub at the soft skin there.
Looking up, you place a chain of kisses along his jawline. Meanwhile, one of your hands pressed against his back snaked back to his front. There, you worked your way down again until you felt the subtle tent in his pants. You palmed it gently, drawing out soft groans from your Ghoul. He shifted in place, sliding his chin off your head and burying his face between the nook in your neck. His hips lean forward into your touch, and you purr at that.
“That’s it,” you whisper, working the top button until it pops. Next, you slide his zipper down and slide your hand inside. “I’ve got you.”
Upon grabbing his stiffening cock, you feel him tense against you, even sagging a little bit as you start to stroke. Your thumb rubs over his swollen head, spreading the generous amount of precum around. You feel it pulse against your palm, and you can’t help but smile when Copper’s breath stutters against your neck.
“Fuck darling,” He drawls, “You know how to drive a man mad.” Bringing his hands up from your hips, Cooper knots his fingers into the back of your shirt. It doesn’t take long to have him unraveling. You can feel his thighs trembling and his grip tightening the closer he gets to release. Like butter, he is melting and fast.
Each new noise you pull from him causes a feverish heat to swell over your form. Your stomach flips, and you feel your heat clench with desire. As much as you would like to keep your composure, you lean into him, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as you stroke faster and faster.
The choked growl Cooper lets out is the only warning you get before hot fluid coats your palm and wrist. His hips lurch in your grip twice before he suddenly sags hard against your form. Finger still twisted in your shirt, he finally lets go and lets his arms swing heavily by his sides. His legs are like jelly, and it takes him a moment to stand up semi-straight, his hat slightly crooked. He looks drunk, his eyes glossy, that stupid ass grin you loved smeared across his lips.
“That good, huh?” Stepping back to give him a little breathing room, you pluck the first few buttons of your shirt open. Allowing your shirt to part and fall from your shoulders, your breasts become exposed. With your other hand, you reach down and open the first button of your pants.
“Well then,” You coo, “come on then bounty hunter.” You shimmy your pants and panties off, kicking them off to the side, leaving your form raw to his eyes. “Come and get it.”
There was no need to ask twice. Rushing forward, Cooper grabbed your hips and slammed your forms together. Your lips crashed together again and again, and you whined into his mouth, horribly needy. You didn’t doubt Cooper had seen the slick glistening on your inner thigh.
Pushing you backward, you allowed Cooper to guide you to your bedroll. Once close enough to it, he kicked his foot out, hooked his heel around your leg, and pulled it out from under you. As you fell backward, he fell with you, landing flat on his palms. Towering over you now, eyes ablaze as they drink in your beet red face and beautiful puffy pink breasts.
“You’ve been wantin' this for a while, haven’t yah?” Lifting one of his hands and pressing it against your soft belly, he drags it down towards your heat. Without warning, he slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, running over your sensitive clit. You gasp, tossing your head back.
“Ngh! Fuck!” Looking up between your bodies, you watch as Cooper drags his fingers up and down over and over, teasing your swelling clit. “Fuck Coop, fuck!”
“Well,” He growls, “Who am I to keep a lady waitin'?” Without warning, his middle and ring finger coast downward and dip deep into your gushing cunt. The squeal that escapes your lips has Cooper chuckling. He presses deep into you, humming as your walls grip his digits.
Burying himself knuckle deep over and over, a squelching noise is followed by each hand thrust. You lift and twist your hips from the intense waves of pleasure. Only when you feel Cooper withdraw his fingers do you flop down, panting harshly.
Through half-lidded and blurry eyes, you watch Cooper bring his hand between you. He inspects them before spreading his two fingers apart, a tendril of thick fluid connecting them.
“You get this wet for everybody else? Or just little o’l me?”
Turning your head away in embarrassment, you feel Cooper grip your chin and return your gaze to him.
“Eyes on me.” He growls as he rolls his hips forward, running his stiff cock between your slick folds. The head bumps your clit, and for a moment, you think you see stars. Over and over again, he grinds against you, littering your chest with kisses in the meantime.
When you finally feel him lean back and press his head against your opening, he hesitates.
“It’s okay,” you whisper as you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ve got you.” Sliding both arms around his neck, you gently tug him into your warm embrace. One hand rugs between his shoulder blades while your other rubs the back of his neck.
Allowing himself to lean forward, he nuzzles into the side of your neck before biting the soft flesh.
Rolling his hips forward, he breaches and slides into you with ease. Gasping and choking out a soft cry, you feel him bury himself to his hilt. Hip connected to hip for a brief moment, he finally drags himself out. Rolling forward, the pase is slow, perhaps even loving, before your Ghoul gets hungry.
It doesn’t take long before your hips are slapping together. You can’t stop the sobs of pleasure that break past your lips with each sharp snap of his hips. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades, you feel your eyes cross when the head of his cock punches that sweet, sweet bundle of nerves.
“Oh fuck, Cooper!” Your back arches off of your bedroll, “F-fuck! I’m… I’m” The hot waves of pleasure radiating from your belly to your groin all the way down your trembling thighs to your toes are winding too tight. “I’m gonna cum!”
He didn’t slow down and instead angled himself better to strike that little bundle of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. It took two hard hits before he felt your beck snap into a tight arch. He felt your chest bump hard against him, and your hips twisted to the right as your climate ripped you apart.
Head thrown back, mouth wide open, no sound came out of you as your climax held you prisoner.
Above, Cooper's thrusts started to become sloppy, losing their rhythm as your cunt clamped down on him spasmodically. As much as he tried to hold on, it had been too long, and you had felt too good.
Grunting hard into the side of your neck, you felt a warmth bloom in your groin as Cooper spilled everything he had left into you. He slammed your hips together, holding you in place and burying himself as deep as he could, pumping you full. The sensation had goosebumps blooming across your skin as your body finally deflated back down against the bedroll.
With eyes half-lidded and glossy, you made out the foggy shape of Cooper still hunched over you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Every other breath was a soft wheeze. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and a droplet fell and landed on your chest.
Leaning back and sliding himself from your heat, a thick flood of cum followed. You shivered at the sensation and watched as Cooper lowered himself against your form. Resting his head between your breasts, he inhaled sharply and sighed.
Lovingly, you stroked the back of his neck, enjoying the sensation of his hot breath against your breast.
Together, you lay like that while listening to the rain from a passing storm plink against the tin roof.
When you looked down, Cooper's eyes were closed, and his breathing had finally leveled. Letting your head fall back, you closed your own eyes and smiled.
For once, the wasteland was at peace.
#fallout#fallout amazon#cooper howard#the ghoul#cooper howard x reader#this is my first ever character x reader fic I've ever written#so im new to this kinda fic but know I tried#also please#my asks are open for requests#I purchased premium Grammarly just to start writing more so please... give me fuel#I have another ghoul fic on the back burner where he is self servicing himself tee hee stay tooned
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WHY I LOVE YOU - GAVI
summary: you and gavi are parents and its a normal day of driving your kids to school and finding out about your pregnancy...
warnings: none
"Pero papá, no quiero ir a la escuela." Ale cried out and Gavi let his head hang low while he exhaled deeply.
"No whining around, you're gonna be late." Gavi said and Ale threw his head back.
"But I don't wanna go!" He yelled and was on the verge of tears.
"I dont know how your mother does this every morning." Gavi mumbled in a low voice and then looked away for a second. "You know what, fine. But if you stay at home, you wont be going to practice tonight either." Gavi started walking towards the door and Ale immediately jumped up to get dressed.
"Thought so" He whispered and walked downstairs. He saw you standing in the kitchen, facing the stove while making scrambled eggs for the kids and Gavi.
You jumped a bit as his arms wrapped around you from behind and then put his hand on your lower stomach.
"That smells so good." He moaned out as he loosened his arms again and went to the fridge to pour himself a glass on cooled water.
"What time is it?" Ale came running down the stairs, followed by Ana who was still sleepily rubbing her eyes.
"You still have an hour and a half, chill." Gavi mumbled and then went over to the stairs to pick up Ana and spin her around.
She was about to turn 5 but you absolutely loved the way Gavi treats her. He treated her like she was still 2 and thats adorable in your opinion.
"Did my princesa wake up too?" Gavi smiled at his daughter.
"He splashed water over my face." Ana pointed at Ale who smiled while sitting on his chair at the dining table.
"Ale, I told you to stop waking people up with water." Gavi walked over to him and sat down Ana on her seat. Ale on the other hand was about to turn 7. He was more of the wild kid while Ana was calm and collected.
"It was an accident." He crossed his arms and Gavi raised his brows.
"If I throw you into the pool was it an accident too?" Your husband pointed outside in your garden where the huge pool was.
"No, that's mean!" Ana pulled the bottom of gavis shirt and he looked at her while he smiled.
"You're such a good kid." He leaned down to kiss her head before walking back to you into the kitchen. You were currently cutting some tomatoes while the scrambled eggs were already on the plates.
"You need help amor?" He asked but instead of replying, you put a plate between the two of you and nudged your head towards the kids.
"Okay boss" Gavi smiled while putting down the plate infront of Ale and soon you returned with all plates in your hand and put them down infront of each person.
After you were all done with eating Gavi stood up and walked over to you.
"Thanks babe, that was amazing." He kissed your temple and you smiled. "Okay kids, lets carry our empty plates into the kitchen and then brush our teeth." Gavi said and grabbed his plate and yours too. You smiled as he also took their forks out of safety reasons.
You watched all three of them go upstairs and then you went to the kitchen to clean everything up.
"You take this" Gavi told Ale and gave him his electric toothbrush that was made for kids and he sat down on the toilet seat and took Ana's toothbrush.
"Come here amor." He waved her over and she walked to him, she was still half asleep, her eyelids hanging heavily and she barely managed to hold herself on her own feet.
"Open up" Gavi told her and as she did he began brushing her teeth since she somehow still wasn't able to do that on her own.
"Why can't you just brush your own teeth?" Ale asked Ana after he put his toothbrush down on the edge of the sink.
"Did you brush your teeth good?" Gavi asked while he then reached Ana a plastic cup full of water and she then stood on the little staircase infront of the sink to spit out the remaining toothpaste.
"Yes, look!" Ale said and opened his mouth, showing his teeth. Gavi nodded his head while he grabbed a hair brush and then began brushing Ana's soft brown hair.
"What hairstyle do you want to do today?" Gavi asked as he took her hair into his hand.
"Can you make the one mom made yesterday?" Ana asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. Ale sat down on the toilet seat as he watched his dad and sister.
"What did mom do yesterday?" Gavi turned to look at Ale who smiled a bit.
"A braid, you should remember that." As soon as Ale said braid, Gavi made a face.
"I mean I can try but it wont be as pretty as mom's braid okay?" He looked at her through the mirror and she nodded her head.
"Why isn't mom doing it today then?" Ale asked Gavi as he began try to braid her hair. You had taught him once how to and he often tried to braid your hair and he got visibly better at it.
"Because she's tired, her cleaning the kitchen takes less energy then dealing with the two of you." Gavi answered, Ana yawned a bit to which Ale shook his head.
"Is she alright though?" Ale asked and Gavi nodded his head as he smiled. It was heartwarming to him to see that his children actually cared about the wellbeing of their mother.
And after Gavi was done with the braid he looked at it proudly. There were some parts that weren't perfect but he was satisfied.
"It's not that bad is it?" He turned Ana around so that she was facing Ale with her back. His son admired the braid and nodded his head.
"You did a good job dad!" He said loudly and grinned. Gavi brought down his hand a bit to mess up his hair.
"Okay, grab your bags and lets go to school!" He clapped his hands together and went downstairs while the kids ran into their rooms.
"Babe, you need some help?" Gavi yelled as he just walked into the kitchen. He saw you putting the final plate into the dishwasher and close it up. The kitchen looked clean, you turned around to face him and opened up your arms.
"No, I'm done, are you driving them to school?" Gavi hugged you as you asked that.
"Yeah I am, you go back to bed. You look a bit pale." Gavi moved his head back a bit while still standing close to you.
"I will. Thank you for driving them." You said and pulled him back to yourself again. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he held you close.
Just a few seconds later you heard steps coming down the stairs. You opened your eyes and saw Ana smiling at the two of you, her bag in her hands.
"Okay, lets go dad." You patted Gavi's back who immediately raised his head and turned around. He crouched down infront of Ana and took her bag, she turned around and slipped her arms into the straps.
"Where's your brother?" He asked and just then Ale came down the stairs.
"I'm here, bye mom!" Ale just simply waved at you while walking to the door.
"Bye Ale" You smiled at him. Ana on the other hand walked over to you and you crouched down to give her a kiss.
"Bye mom, love you!" Ana smiled while she walked in front of Gavi to the door. However as Gavi looked back at you, he walked back to you real quick to give you a kiss.
"Go back to bed and try to catch some sleep yeah?" Gavi smiled at you and began walking backwards to the door.
"I will, bye!" You waved at him and he left.
"Okay, are you both ready? Last day of the week." Gavi mumbled while sitting into the car and fastening his seatbelt. He looked back at both of the kids sitting in their seats.
"Yes!" Both yelled in excitement and Gavi drove them to school. After he returned home again, he found you in bed, looking at the tv infront of the king sized bed.
Money heist was playing, so as soon as Gavi entered the room you stopped the tv and looked at him walking closer to you.
"How is my love?" He kneeled down next to your side of the bed and pressed a kiss on your lips.
"Can I be honest?" You turned your head to look at him, he nodded his head. "I think I'm pregnant again."
Gavi froze for a couple of seconds, he broke the eye contact and looked down at his hands which were on top of the mattress.
"Did you take a test yet?" Gavi asked while you looked deep into his eyes and shook your head. "Let's take one, come on." He stood up and you pushed the covers down from your body.
Gavi went into the bathroom first and grabbed a pregnancy test from the top of the shelf so nobody was able to see it. You kept two up there at all times incase anybody or you needed it.
"Okay, here" Gavi handed you it and you went to sit down on the toilet and Gavi sat down at the edge of the bathtub while looking at you.
You didn't mind him watching you doing whatever, he saw you from all angles already so there wasn't much to hide.
He smiled at you as you finished taking the test and put it down onto the counter so that the upside was facing the counter.
"What are you all smiley for?" You asked and walked over to Gavi to hug him. one of the things your friends noticed was that you two were still very affectionate with eachother. Some people grew apart after they had kids and you two didnt at all.
"It'd be so nice to have a third kid." Gavi mumbled and kissed your forehead. Gavi and you have talked about having more children previously. You both agreed that three was the max number of children.
"It would be amazing. I'm just not as excited for the actual giving birth part but whatever." You joked and Gavi chuckled.
"I braided Ana's hair today, did you see it?" He changed the topic to distract you from the test.
"No I didn't." You gasped and covered your mouth. He shook his head and parted his lips into a thin line.
"I did such a good job, also, I need to leave for practice at 11. So you'll have to pick up the kids." Gavi informed you ro which you only gave him a nod.
After enough time had passed which contained the two of you just chatting, you looked at the pregnancy test infront of you.
"I can't do it, you do it." You tokd Gavi and took a step aside, he took the pregnancy test between his fingers and then turned ut around slowly.
Pregnant.
"Oh my god, I'm pregnant." You jumped into Gavi's arms while you smiled widely.
"You're pregnant." Gavi repeats while a big smile covers his own lips. After he loosened his grip around you, he immediately grabbed your face and kissed a long and passionate kiss on your lips.
"Oh my god, we need to go and shop for the baby. Do you think it will be a boy or a girl? I'm hoping for a boy because then-" You talked way too fast, before you could continue Gavi crushed his lips into yours again.
"I'm so excited." He stated after the kiss. Gavi was so happy that he was gonna be a father of three. You and him had planned having three children even before Ale was born. Even tho you didn't try to get pregnant right now, it happened at that was so beautiful about it.
Things happen and sometimes they're the best things to ever happen.
#barca#fc barcelona#football#gavi#futbol#fanfic#mustread#espana#pablo gavi#gavi x reader#gavi fluff#pablo gavira#pablo martín páez gavira#gavi fanfiction#fanfiction
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the eldest river in "the impossible astronaut" is always so fucking distressing to me in hindsight. the way she knows what's going to happen at lake silencio, but she can't say anything to the people she loves most. she constantly has to lie, always has to play pretend. spoilers. the fate of the entire universe depends on it.
and the doctor, her doctor, doesn't trust her because of it.
because of all the lies. because of what she has to do to necessarily protect them both.
how she has to revisit her ugly childhood and fractured youth and watch it from afar, incapable of helping that scared little girl in a spacesuit, the young woman submerged in the water.
and she watches her husband and parents, too—watches them watching her own making—and they don't even know it.
There's this exchange between her and her mother that becomes all the more harrowing when you realizing that she's talking about herself.
River: I know what you're thinking.
Amy: No, you don't.
River: You're thinking, "If we can find the spaceman in 1969 and neutralize it, then it won't be around in 2011 to kill the Doctor."
Amy: Okay, lucky guess.
River: It's only because I was thinking it, too.
and then there's the moment where she catches a glimpse of the Silence in the tunnels and all that pain and trauma comes rushing back to her in an sickening instant, and even when they disappear from her memory, that horror still lingers in her body, but she pretends to keep it together anyway for other people's sake anyway.
in those dark tunnels, she only allows herself five minutes to fall apart away from prying eyes.
and she would have gotten away with it, too, had her father not shown up. he's concerned—even though he doesn't know her very well yet—and he's there, and he's asking all the right questions.
Is she okay? what did she mean when said there's a worse day coming for her?
And River opens up to him in a way that we've rarely seen her do.
River: The trouble is, it's all back-to-front. My past is his future. We're traveling in opposite directions. Every time we meet, I know him more, he knows me less. I live for the days when I see him, but I know that every time I do, he'll be one step further away. And the day is coming when I'll look into that man's eyes, my Doctor, and he won't have the faintest idea who I am. And I think it's going to kill me.
fucking gutting.
#river song#s: doctor who#maggie blogs#the lie about wanting to looking around in the tunnel for five more minutes always gets to me#goddamn - she puts up so many walls to protect herself#the doctor#her parents#all of time and space itself#but when they inevitably come crashing down#all the ruins land on her head
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While We're Young | 1.0k
Anton x reader
Note : this was gonna be part 1 of a series a scrapped 😔 anyways this is heavily based of While We’re Young by Jhenè Aiko
Warnings : first love trope, mention of other idols (Naori Rei), based in America (but I'm British...), kissing, my first time writing purely fluff
You stared at the vacant courtyard, eyes focusing on the way the leaves sway with each blow of wind. You've always found tranquility in nature. Whether it be the chirping of the morning birds or the humming of a bee passing by, it didn't matter. It felt like all the stress of exams and university melted away once you remembered how little you are compared to nature, like a drop of water in the ocean. You were quickly dragged out of your thoughts once you recognised a familiar person strolling through the grassy scenery. Anton.
You knew he didn't have any lectures today so you were surprised to say the least. Hastily, you gathered your belongings and got ready to leave. And as if on cue, your lecturer began to thank everyone for coming as people began to filter out of the room. buzz buzz buzz. Once you stepped into the hallway, you held your phone up to your ear.
"Hi Anton, where are you going?" You spoke as you navigated your way through the busy corridor.
"Hey Angel" He spoke from behind you before ending the call.
"I told you not to call me that!" You pouted and playfully slapped his side. Best friends aren't supposed to say things like that, things that cause butterflies to flutter crazily in your stomach, things that make your heart pound against your ribs.
"Lets say 'fuck everyone' and walk hand and hand to the Sun"
He intertwines his fingers with yours as he says "Don't act like you don't love it" in a teasing tone. You don't reply. Opting for silence rather than letting him hear the truth. You do love it. You love the way it sounds coming out his lips. Gosh, his lips are so pretty, so soft. You just wanna see how they'll feel against your fingers or better yet, your own lips.
"Telling everybody your mine and I like it"
The way your mind reeled over every little thing he did was a common occurrence at this point. It started during the last year high school, it was one of those swimming practices where everyone just felt lazy. As Anton was getting out the pool he asked you to help him but instead of him getting out, you got in. He pulled you close to him as you dropped into the deep end of the pool. Later that evening, as you were trying to sleep, you couldn't take your mind off how his hands felt around you. It was so... odd. If you really wanted to take it back to the root though, you'd have to go back to the start of highschool when you over heard Naoi Rei and her group talking about how good looking Anton is. You felt this weird jealousy and instead of just letting it go you decided to make it very clear that Anton was somewhat yours. Looking back, it was a bit extreme but at least it got the message across.
"Y/n? Helloooo, earth to y/n" he waves his free hand in front of your face. "Sorry, what were you saying" you look up at him with an apologetic smile. He explains the whole thing once again. He tells you how he actually wanted to pick you up from class so you could go to his dorm to have a movie night. Usually you'd show up to Anton's dorm once you had freshened up and gotten snacks but Anton quickly reassured you that the dorm will be empty so you can shower there and he's already gotten the snacks.
"I'll go everywhere you go"
The sun had begun to set by the time you climbed into his bed, leaning your back against the headboard. The familiar scent of your best friend engulfed your senses. Anton adjusted and laid his head on your lap, humming when he feels your fingers run through his fluffy hair.
You sat in a comfortable silence, his focus on the movie as you watched him smile at the screen. Looking up, you see the main couple kissing each other in the rain. Your eyes wander back down and you begin to feel the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“Anton?” You whispered, unsure of what you're gonna say next.
"hm?" he smiles as he turns his head towards you.
“Can I kiss you?” You say in the same quiet voice as before, the rhythmic beating of your heat quickly sped up. His eyes widen slightly and his lips part before he nods, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.
You bend down and kiss him hesitantly, savouring the pillowy feeling of his lips. You feel him lean into the kiss before placing his hand on your neck to bring you closer. The room felt like it was spinning by the time you separated. Anton sat up and looked at you with wide eyes. "Again?" he said beneath his breath.
This time was different, more romantic. The way your lips moved against each other could only be described as a dance, both of you moving along with an imaginary beat.
“Wait” you confess as you pulled away from him. He quickly makes some distance between the two of you. “I can’t go further if we’re just friends”.
It’s silent for a couple moments after that, “Anton? Are we just friends”. That’s all it took for the feelings he’s been hiding to just tumble out of him. He quickly denies the question and tells you about how he’s been wanting this for so long but didn’t want to lose you.
“I didn’t want to scare you away” he admits. He was always so considerate, especially when it came to you. "You could never" you reassured him before hugging him.
A familiar sense of tranquility washed over you as you tighten the embrace, nuzzling your head into his chest.
#riize x reader#riize imagines#anton imagines#anton x reader#eve’s beach party#riize fluff#anton fluff#kpop fluff
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the kids are alright || l.c
pairing: dad!lee chan x mom!reader
warnings: reader goes by mom
word count: 1362
summary: parenthood is chaotic, but things will come out alright in the end
a/n: i’ve been binge watching modern family and i felt bad for my latest jihoon angst so i thought i’d offer some tooth rotting fluff as an olive branch
main masterlist || taglist
“Okay,” you let out a sigh as you plopped down on the sofa beside your husband who was slipping his socks on. “That’s all three ready for school.”
“Really?” Chan looked down at his watch with an impressed look. “With 6 whole minutes to spare. That’s gotta be a record.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him.
Before you could bask in the glory of mastering your kids’ morning routine however, a shrill voice called your name from upstairs. “Mom, I can’t find my biology project.”
Chan sucked in a breath and shook his head. “Spoke too soon,” he teased. You playfully shoved him as you stood from the couch and headed towards the kitchen. You and Chan had spent the better part of last night helping your daughter Jia with a diorama for her biology class (read: you and Chan did all the work).
“It’s in the kitchen,” you called back as she came down the stairs. “Do you have everything else?”
“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing the project off the counter and rushing behind you to the fridge to grab a water bottle. “Oh, one of the gremlins said they need cash for something at school today though.”
“Honey,” you chastised. “Don’t call your siblings that, it’s not nice.” By the end of your warning, she was already in the living room asking her father for a ride to the mall after school.
“She called us what?” Minjun, one of the twins, asked as he entered the room with his jacket halfway on and his lunch box halfway unzipped. You rushed over to help him, letting out a sigh.
“Nothing,” you answered him before calling on your husband when you realized one of your kids had yet to make it downstairs. “Chan can you grab Minji? She’s still in her room.”
Chan quickly replied a quick “Sure,” before running up the stairs to grab the other twin. It wasn’t until you heard Minji squeal as he literally grabbed her and picked her up that you turned your attention back to Minjun.
“Jia said you and Minji needed money today?” You questioned him as you inspected him to make sure he didn’t forget anything else.
“Yeah,” he replied, ruffling his hair. “We have a class trip next week that we’re supposed to pay for.”
“A class trip?” you echoed back. “I didn’t know you had a class trip.”
Minjun shrugged his shoulders in response. “Minji and I told dad about it last week,” he explained.
You looked up at your husband coming down the stairs with your daughter riding on his shoulders. “Chan?” you questioned with your hands on your hips.
“Right,” he responded sheepishly. “I think I have the permission slips in my briefcase.” He set Minji down and quickly went to his study to find the slips. He returned and handed one piece of paper to each twin, only for Minji to groan.
“Ugh, dad,” she complained. “You gave me Minjun’s.” She and her brother swapped papers before stuffing them in their backpacks without a care and you cringed at the sight of their papers crumpling in the mess.
“Whoops,” Chan ran a hand through his hair. “Does everyone have everything?”
“Yes,” all three called in response.
“Alright, team,” he clapped and began with a cheery voice. “Happy Monday.”
It wasn’t until the kids were all dropped off that you and Chan were able to actually have a minute to yourselves. It was a rare day that you were both off from work and an even rarer day that the kids weren’t home. Although you very much loved your kids, it wasn’t hard to admit that it was nice to have a break from them every once in a while.
You and Chan had taken separate cars to drop the kids off so you could stop by the grocery store to pick up some things you were low on and by the time you finally made it back home, Chan was curled up on the couch watching a kids’ cartoon. You smiled at the sight of him clad in his old pajamas and with Minjun’s Spider-Man blanket only covering a small portion of his body.
“Hey,” he greeted you quietly before sitting up. Once he noticed the grocery bags in your hands, he stood up to grab them from you before heading into the kitchen to help you put the groceries away.
“How was drop-off?” he asked you as he put the produce in the fridge.
“It wasn’t too bad today,” you shrugged. “I got to the twins’ school before the typical traffic jam, so you know… a happy Monday indeed.” You smirked at Chan, feeling proud of your small win for the day. “What about you?”
Chan let out a sigh, now folding up the emptied grocery bag. “Jia made me drive at like half the speed limit,” he glared at you as you laughed at his misery. “She said that her diorama was precious cargo and then went on a tangent about how her whole future is on the line and blah, blah–”
You swatted him playfully. “Honey, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for us as parents to blah blah our kids,” you joked.
Chan simply scoffed. “Show me where in the parent rulebook it says that,” he replied as you rolled your eyes. “I did what she asked, anyway. Took us almost 30 minutes to get to the drop-off area, but I did it, because I’m an amazing father.” He leaned back against the counter while you finished putting away the last box of cereal.
“You definitely are,” you agreed with just a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you walked back to the living room with your husband hot on your heels.
“Hey,” he stuttered, and without even turning to look at him, you knew his lips were pushed into a pout. “I am an amazing father.”
You laughed as you plopped down onto the sofa where he was earlier and took the small blanket for yourself. “I never said you weren’t,” you replied impishly. “But remember that time when you forgot Jia–”
Chan cut you off by sitting down next to you and poking your side, eliciting a squeal from you. “I didn’t forget her,” he corrected. “I was teaching her a lesson about being independent. I only made it to the parking lot before I remembered.” The last part came out mumbled and you let out a laugh.
“Well what about the time Minjun asked for ketchup on his fries and you accidentally put sriracha sauce on it instead?” Chan retorted.
“Hey,” you chided, poking him back on the side. “I was also teaching him a lesson.”
“Yeah?” Chan teased, grabbing your hands to stop you from retaliating. “What lesson were you teaching him? That sriracha is scary?”
“No,” you retorted. “That uh… that sometimes moms make mistakes.” You pouted at the end of your sentence and Chan chuckled before pulling you onto his lap.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he cooed and you buried your face into his neck. “At least it was a funny mistake.” You poked him in the rib one last time as he let out a pained chuckle. He tightened his hold around you and the two of you stayed quiet for a beat with only the sound of the cartoon playing in the background.
“Chan,” you called his name softly. “Do you think the kids are gonna be alright?”
He hummed thoughtfully before replying. “Of course,” he replied softly and with seriousness. “We’re good parents.”
“Even though I fed my 3 year old son sriracha?” you asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “And even though I almost forgot a 7 year old at the store.”
You laughed against his chest. “How do you know that?”
“Because they have parents who love them and will love them no matter what,” he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And even if we make mistakes along the way, we don’t stop trying to do better, and neither will they.”
“The kids are lucky to have you,” you replied before leaning up to meet Chan in a soft kiss. “And so am I.”
taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#lee chan#lee dino#seventeen dino#dino x reader#dino fluff#lee chan x reader#lee chan fluff#lee chan angst#lee chan smut#lee chan imagines#svt#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst
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Hello hello hope you are swell 🩵 I see you do platonic drivers 👀👀
Could it be possible to request a platonic! Reader who is a younger sister (that is also a driver, any team) to a driver of your choice who is given either a drink or meal before going on the race and getting a severe allergic reaction. Like rushed to the hospital asap reaction please 🥺
A/N: The only thing I’m allergic to is bullshit(and mosquitoes), so I don’t know what it’s like to have an allergic reaction to food. Hopefully I wrote this ok but do let me know if there are things I need to change. I decided to keep this as a blurb only because it's so similar to the last oneshot I wrote and I went with Oscar for this one
~~~
“Shouldn’t they be back by now with our drink bottles refilled?” Your teammate asked as you looked over some data. The race was set to start in just under an hour and the matter your teammate was more concerned about is the assistant that had gone to refill both your drink bottles rather than look over data with you.
“They only left a minute ago. I know you’re used to everything going fast but they’re not a race car.”
“Well they better be back soon with my energy drink. I have to drink one before every race. Helps with my performance.” Your teammate said. You just rolled your eyes.
The assistant soon came back with both your drink bottles refilled. You thanked them and took it. As you were about to take a swig, your phone vibrated with a text from your brother, Oscar.
Papaya-Bro: Chit chat before the race?
More often than not, you and Oscar would find each other in your respective drivers rooms to talk before the race. It was a small amount of time where the two of you would talk about anything but racing, giving the two of you a sense of peace before you had to face the chaos of Formula One. You sent him a text that you were on your way over and made your way to the McLaren garage. Some of the McLaren workers waved at you as you walked in, having gotten used to you making appearances in the garage to see your brother.
“Mom wants to know what she should cook for dinner when we come back home.” Oscar said, looking down at his phone while sitting in a chair.
“I’ve been craving her meatloaf for the past couple days. Ask her if she'll make that.” You said, taking a sip from your drink bottle. Your face scrunched up in disgust as you tasted something that wasn’t water on your tongue. You ended up swallowing whatever it was you just drank as your first reflex was to gag at the taste of whatever you consumed. It was sour, with a hint of fruitiness.
“What’s wrong?” Oscar asked.
“This isn’t water.” You said, handing him your drink bottle. “Taste this for me.”
You gagged again and then started to cough as Oscar took a swig of the mysterious drink.
“Yea, that’s not water.” He said. “It’s got a–”
“--fruity taste.” You started to cough more violently while trying to gasp for breath. Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself as you struggled to breath.
Oscar didn’t have time to figure out exactly what the drink was. He was able to guess what was in it though as he witnessed you starting to have a severe allergic reaction to whatever the mysterious drink was.
“I need medical assistance!” He called out into the hallway, hoping anyone heard him. Oscar quickly opened the front pocket of his backpack that always carried the spare epipen and grabbed it. By now you had gotten down to the floor, still struggling to breathe. Kneeling down in front of you, Oscar steadied the orange tip over your outer thigh, before having it make contact with the fabric of your race suit. He pushed the auto inject button till he heard the click. He then looked down at his watch to watch the seconds go by.
“One…two…three…”Oscar then removed the epipen and checked to see if it went in. But to his horror, there was no puncture hole from the needle. Of course race suits that were designed to keep a driver safe from getting burned or injured in a crash can prevent a needle from going through the fabric.
“I NEED SERIOUS MEDICAL ASSISTANCE!” Oscar yelled again. This time someone seemed to have heard him as a McLaren worker came in with a medic right behind them.
“She’s having an allergic reaction! The epi pen didn’t puncture through the race suit!”
The medic took out a pair of scissors and an epi pen before they started quickly cutting the pant leg of your race suit and fire proofs. Once the material was cut away enough to reveal the skin of your upper thigh, the medic didn’t hesitate in administering the epipen, which successfully went through this time. Oscar helped steady the pen while the medic put an oxygen mask over your face to help you breathe while the medicine worked its way through your system.
Eventually you were able to breathe again and your throat no longer felt like it was closing up. But you and Oscar both knew that you couldn’t just hop in the car and race. You’d have to be taken to the hospital to make sure whatever allegens you had consumed were fully out of your system. Oscar made sure one of the McLaren personnel went over to your team garage to inform your team that you had an allergic reaction and could no longer race today, before he helped you up off the floor and handed you off to the medical staff.
“Kick their asses for me.” You said to Oscar before leaving, your voice raspy from coughing.
“Will do.” He promised.
~~~
Oscar was a bit rattled throughout the race because of what had taken place just before it. That wasn’t the first time he had to administer an epipen for you, he’s seen you have allergic reactions before. But the fact that it didn’t work the first time is what really freaked him out. But knowing that you were ok and breathing was enough for him to score P3. And the fact that he beat your teammate seemed to make you happy so Oscar took that as a win.
“Because I saved your life today, can you let me freely pass you during the next race and defend me from the people behind?” Oscar asked as he drove you home from the hospital.
“You didn’t save my life. The medical staff did.” You said, playing with the medical band around your wrist.
“I attempted to! If our race suits weren’t made so tough to protect us from crashes, you wouldn’t have needed to be rushed here.”
“That’s kinda a big flaw with the race suits. They can protect us from fiery crashes but prevent someone from administering an epi pen.” You noted.
“I’ll talk with the FIA tomorrow to propose new safety regulations so race suits have to be made so a giant needle can break through the fabric. I’m sure that will go over well with the other drivers.” Oscar joked. Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a text from yours and Oscar’s manager.
“Mark just texted me. Apparently the energy drinks my teammate has before every race are now banned from the garage. Turns out it’s got lychee in it.” You told your brother.
“Honestly they should have been banned from the start to prevent what happened today.” Oscar said. You nodded in agreement.
“So you’re not going to let me pass during the next race?” Oscar asked. You rolled your eyes.
“Only if you defend me from my teammate if they end up behind you. Which is often.”
#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x sister!reader#platonic grid x reader
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we all kmow drew loves to read and staying in, let’s make Dad!Drew staying in for the weekend and read to his 2 yo daughter and everything (hanging out, taking cute pics, doing her hair, play house) while reader going out with her friends and she felt a little guilty but he assured her that he loves spending time with their baby, so she should stop worrying.
Me And My Lady
Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: Suggestion of Sex At The End
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.7K
Masterlist
“You be Ken, Daddy, and I be Chelsea,” Elizabeth orders, handing her father the doll. Most kids are obsessed with the titular character of Barbibe; however, Drew’s daughter loves her Chelsea doll with a passion. He takes it without hesitation, “'Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten. Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blonde fragility?” The singing goes over his daughter’s head and she begins the dialogue of the game. He isn’t too sure what exactly is going on; only catching every other word. He does hear cheating and divorce though, so he makes a mental note to ask Y/N if she has been watching Real Housewives with their daughter again.
Around half an hour later, the young girl complains about being hungry, so the two of them get to cook dinner. He watches as the small hand grips the spatula and waves it back and forward, spreading tomato sauce over the lasagna slices. She accidentally yanks the utensil upward, which causes a splash of red to land on her nose. Drew laughs and Elizabeth goes crossed eyes to try to see what he is laughing at. This makes him laugh even harder and she joins in on the cheery mood. He takes the phone out, letting her put some sauce on his nose and angling the camera at both of them. They make a funny face and he takes multiple pictures. After their small photo shoot, the two of them finish making the lasagna and eat up their reward for their effort. He checks the time to see that it is the little one’s bedtime soon. “It’s bath time,” he announces. Excitement crosses her face because she loves being in the water. He helps her out of the chair and chuckles when she rushes to the bathroom. “Come on, Daddy,” she beckons from the other room. He jogs after her to find her sorting through her toys already, trying to figure out which one she wants to play with. The one thing she hates about bathtime is the three toys limit.
He steps over the toys and plugs the drain so the tub will fill when he turns the tap on. As the water begins to occupy the hollow porcelain, Drew turns to his daughter and opens the cabinet beside the bath. “Do you want bubbles and what bath bomb do you want?” he questions. She looks up from her toys and examines the choices, “Can I use one of Mommy’s?” The cabinet is filled with bubbles for both Y/N and Elizabeth, but the bath bombs are divided between the two of them. Elizabeth’s are colourful and shaped in different forms, such as cats, unicorns, or dogs, while Y/N’s are more focused on the scents so they are less colourful and just round. Knowing his wife wouldn’t mind sharing, he nods. “Bubbles, please, and that one,” she answers, pointing to the light pink bath bomb that smells of roses. Drew grabs both of the chosen items, “Those are fine choices, My Lady.” Elizabeth giggles at the funny accent he uses and accepts the round object he hands her, dropping it into the tub when he instructs her to.
Once the bubbles are in and the water is at an appropriate height, he helps her undress and sets her into the tub. He hands her the duck, the mermaid, and the boat she chose to play with, accepting the mermaid she gave him. “And we can swim all night together,” she recounts. The duck slaps against the water under the grip of the daughter. The force produces a large splash that hits her father in the face. His face scrunches as the water makes contact and drips to his neck. “Hahaha,” she yells. Drew fakes an angry look, “Grrr. You think that’s funny, Little Lady?” He dips his hand in the water and flicks some at his daughter. Her giggles intensify and she tries to get away from the attack. The warmth soon leaves her, creating a shiver in her. Upon seeing this, the father grabs the ducky hood towel from the hook and takes her out of the tub. He wraps it around her and runs his hands up and down her arms to create some heat. The floor is soaked because of their playing, so he takes a second to dry it with the floor towel.
With the floor clean, he carries her to her room and they get her changed into her pyjamas. He runs the towel over her hair to get out as much moisture as he can. He takes the brush she hands him and runs it through her hair to get rid of the knots created in the bath. “Do we want one braid or two?” he confirms. She hmms for a little, “Two Fwench braids, please.” He divides her hair into two and then separates one of the sections into three. He begins weaving the strands together like his wife taught him and sings with his daughter whilst she waits for him to finish.
“There you go, My Lady. Why don’t you go choose a bedtime story?” he encourages, watching her run to her bookcase. She spends about a minute looking at her options before choosing a book he knows she is going to pick because it has been her choice for a few nights now. She patters back to him and he helps her onto her big girl bed. Her head rests against his shoulder. He pretends he doesn’t see her thumb in her mouth even though Y/N would kill him for not stopping it. He thumbs through the book to find where they stopped last night and clears his throat to start reading. “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” The English major side of him loves that his daughter likes to read Shakespeare. He is sure she doesn’t understand anything he reads, yet he knows she enjoys it because she is always so attentive and she’ll ask what certain words will mean. Drew looks past the inappropriate subject matter of Hamlet for the two-year-old because it feels like a bonding experience for him. It is one of the reasons why he isn’t angry at Y/N for watching Real Housewives with Elizabeth.
Ten minutes later, he fills her head relax as it digs into his muscles. He closes the book and kisses her forehead. His hand raises the blanket to her chin, turning on the night light. “I love you, My Lady,” he whispers.
———
Drew is reading through Othello because he thinks it is what he and Elizabeth should read after Hamlet. She’ll like the witches’ scene. He hears the front door open and close. He shuts the book, placing it on the side table as his wife walks through the bedroom door. “Hey, did she go down to sleep okay?” she mumbles. Her back is facing him whilst she takes off her jewellery and places them on her vanity. His head bobs and he gets behind her. He hands her a makeup wipe, resting his chin on her shoulder. He observes her nighttime routine through the mirror. His lips press against her skin, “Yep, everything went by smoothly. We are almost done with Act Three for Hamlet. I’m thinking about reading Othello with her next. How was the club?” She hesitates about answering. Y/N honestly had an amazing time tonight. It felt so great not having to worry about another human being for an evening. She loves Elizabeth, except being a mom can create a lot of pressure. Even though the night was a success, guilt overcomes her when she meets her husband’s eyes in the mirror. Drew hasn’t gone out at night with friends since he got back from work and she has been out three times. “It was fine,” she plays off, wiping her makeup off with the wipes he provided for her.
His brow arches at her tone, “Really, only fine? I saw Layton’s story. You looked like you were having a blast.” Her eyes fall to the vanity. “It must have been a trick of the light,” she shrugs. She goes for another wipe, except veiny hands stop her. He takes her hand in his and spins her so they face each other. Warm hands cup her cheek. “What’s wrong, My Queen? Why so glum?” he worries, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.
Her breath tickles his skin as she exhales, “Do you hate that I make you stay at home with Elizabeth when I go out?” His head shakes like an earthquake and he brings her in for a hug. He can feel the guilt oozing out of her. “No, of course not. I love Elizabeth. Why would I hate it?”
“I’m not saying that you hate her. I just wonder if you resent me for going out with the girls, which means you have sole parent duties for a night. You haven’t had a night out since she was born. I mean you go out, but never by yourself so that I have sole parent duties.”
“You have sole duties when I work.”
“That’s different though. Just because you love your job doesn’t mean it is a personal outing for pleasure.”
“True.”
She looks back at him with a pout, his last words intensifying her emotions. “Please don’t feel bad about this. I may not go out anymore, but I never used to go out that much before anyways, right?” he reminds her. She thinks about it, realizing that it is true. Whenever he went out, it was always with her by his side. She meets his gaze, “You are saying that to make me feel better.” His head moves from side to side. “No. I love having nights with me and My Lady. I mean they are perfect when it is me, My Lady, and My Queen, but if I can give you a much-needed break, then I am more than happy to help you with that. If anything, Elizabeth is my excuse to stay in.” A grin starts to grow on his face when he sees the tips of her lips flip upwards. “Well, I’m glad I made you the perfect excuse,” she jokes. His laugh joins her lightened mood, “You made me the best excuse. Maybe we should start working on another one. You know, to solidify our excuse.” His eyebrows waggle and she pulls him into a kiss with a smirk. Their giggles mix in the air as he locks their bedroom door and she flops onto their bed.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
#dad!drew#dad!drew starkey#drew starkey#drew#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader
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hi hi!!
i love ur writing sm can i req a luke x aphrodite reader where the reader is insecure from a scar she got on a quest and luke comforts her?
btw no pressure or anything! i know how stressful requests can be <33
ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨ stars around our scars ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader
warning(s): me being really shitty at describing where scars are, me not knowing how to treat cuts, swearing
word count: 1.1k
an: i feel like this sounds so pick me but i only ever curl my lashes cause my mommy mother dearest wont let me do anything else yet so idk how 2 use concealer or nothin nd i hope this doesnt sound too stupid 😭
you took a step back as you finished ( your attempt to ) covering up the scar sitting diagonally on the left side of your forehead. it was just barely above your eyebrow, running down to the top of your ear. you hated the stupid thing. you hated how you could've avoided getting it in the first place if you'd just moved quicker. maybe you might've been able to move quicker if you trained harder and longer, instead of fooling around. if you just tried harder.
you exhaled in frustration as you grabbed your concealer, ready to put another layer on the ugly thing. you'd spent hours yesterday trying to find a hairstyle that would cover up the scar, but it always managed to peak out a little, sending you into a meltdown. emotionally, you'd been so fragile after your quest, a singular wrong move managing to bring you to tears.
you reached for your concealer, placing some on top of your scar and grabbing your brush, quickly trying to hide the wretched thing. when you realized it wasnt working, you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, the familiar overwhelming feeling slowly creeping in. you reached for the bottle again without looking in a hurry, your eyes fixated on your reflection in the mirror, watching as tears threatened to fall. your hand missed the bottle and instead sent it flying off the bathroom sink's counter, hitting the floor with a shatter. you gasped as you quickly fell to your knees, trying to pick up the glass from the floor.
somebody knocked on the door, "you okay in the angel?", you heard their voice say from the other side of the bathroom door. was that luke? it had to be luke. when had he gotten here?
"y-yea! im okay!", you shouted back. you could hear your voice shaking, and you knew he could too.
you quickly began picking up pieces of glass off of the floor, tears now falling from your eyes as you grunted in anger every time a piece of your hair would fall into your face and blocked your vision. a large piece fell in your face when you balled up for fist that had glass in it without thinking. you quickly yelped out in pain, small shards of glass lying in your palm.
you heard the bathroom door open swiftly, quickly looking up to see luke standing in the door frame. he let out a small gasp when he saw your hand, quickly moving over to you.
"shit- here, here, cmere baby" he said, holding your other hand and guiding you back up to the sink.
he turned the faucet on and stuck his hand in the water, making sure it wasn't too hot, but still warm. after just a few seconds, he grabbed your other hand gently, holding it by your wrist, careful not to touch the palm of your hand until he could see the cuts.
"is this too hot?" he asked, putting just your fingers under the water.
you shook your head, wiping away your tears. your hand was aching, but luke's touch alone was enough to help calm you down a little.
he moved the rest of your hand under the water, grabbing soap to help clean the cut. he seemed to know exactly what to do, and you just let him take care of you.
once he finished cleaning the cuts, he asked you to sit atop of the bathtub as he crouched down to search for your cabin's first aid kit. when he found the bedazzled thing, he was quick to rummage through it in search for tweezers. he found a pair and sat next to you on the bathtub, taking your injured hand and holding it in his left hand as he began picking out the pieces of glass with the tweezers in his right.
you sat in comfortable silence as luke continued to take out small pieces of glass, making sure he got every last bit out. you wanted to talk to him, to thank him for what he was doing, but you felt embarrassed in a way. embarrassed that this had happened and luke was the one to take care of you, again. if only you'd paid more attention. again.
when he finished pulling out the glass, he reached over to the first aid kit again, putting the tweeers back and this time pulling out a bandage roll.
"what happened? i mean, i know you dropped something but like why?" he asked, as he slowly began to wrap the bandages around your palm.
"i wasn't paying attention, as always." you said, muttering the last part.
he looked up at you, his brows furrowed in confusion, "as always? what do you mean?"
"well i mean i got this dumb scar on my head because i wasn't paying attention, now this? one day i'll get myself killed because i'm not paying attention" you said bitterly.
he finished bandaging your hand and turned it over to press a kiss on your knuckles, "everybody makes mistakes. so what if you weren't paying attention? i don't know a single person at camp who hasn't gotten hurt because they weren't paying attention- including myself. it's normal angel, no need to beat yourself up for it."
"still doesn't get rid of this stupid scar" you muttered.
he paused, studying the scar on your forehead, just now noticing the very obvious layer of makeup on it. his eyes wandered over to the shattered bottle on the floor.
"is that what this is about?" he asked, pointing over to the mess on the floor, "your scar?"
you looked away and nodded your head slowly.
"im... im not pretty anymore." you said, tears beginning to form.
luke almost laughed out of shock, "what? where did you ever get that idea??"
"oh come on, luke! ive got this huge mark across my forehead, youre seriously telling me thats pretty?" you exclaimed.
"angel, in no way does that scar take away from your beauty at all. youre still the same gorgeous girl you were before." he said, moving closer to you.
he pressed a soft kiss on it, "and besides- i think it makes you look tough."
you smiled, "really?"
"mhm, like yea you like ribbons and bows and frilly things, but at the same time it says you can drop kick a bear" he replied.
your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his comparison but couldn't help laughing.
"what? no bear?" he asked.
you just rolled your eyes and kissed him.
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ
little did he know, just the sight of the identical scar on his left cheek would be enough to almost send him running back to you after his betrayal.
an two: why was that all build up 🧍bro tell me why i had NO TIME TO WRITE THIS. i kept falling asleep nd schol nd shit 😭 im soso sorry ubt i hope you enjoyed and have a good day/night!
peace from manhattan,
percy jackson ♡
#percy jackson#pjo#pjo x reader#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#percy jackson x reader#by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.
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Ancient Adam!
My Design and some thoughts I had about situations/his thoughts.
Kind of a ficlet!
Adam felt a deep sense of anger that bordered on resentment when Eve began crying for the small bird he'd managed to shoot with the tool an angel had instructed him to make.
Somehow, his wife just seemed lost, unable to cope with the situation they'd been forced into.
Hunger gnawed within them both, thirst was ever present, but she would waste precious waters on empathy for a singular source of food he'd managed to find and hunt to sustain her ever growing stomach.
New life. That is what the angel had told him. New life that he was expected to propagate and care fore on top of feeding and sustaining himself and his life.
This creature would hardly be enough for Eve, unless he found another creature... Unless he refined this tool given to him, a tool Eve despised, they would die.
The resentment was only held at bay, because he could not afford giving into his anger. A life alone, a life without her, wasn't one he would have any strength at all to live.
-
The smoke from the wood made him more ravenous than he thought. He'd managed to find another animal, a much, much larger animal with horns and muscle.
He'd managed to strike it perfectly, the feather's he'd added to the end of the arrow made it fly just as the bird had.
Eve was better at breaking the animals he hunted down. He enjoyed resting, after a long hunt, and watching her delicate, intricate fingers work through the flesh and sinew with the knapped rock he'd created for this purpose.
She'd come a long way. It pained him, knowing she desensitized herself, the innocent care she'd had for the animals they'd once been so like, masked and hidden as they tried to survive.
While he was gone, she attempted to forage. They continued moving further and further into lands that had green, not the same kind of green as Eden had, but green enough to sustain more creatures. More water too.
She'd said she watched the animals to know what could be safe, but also rubbed the flowers, bark, and roots she found on her skin just to be sure when she tasted them to find something edible.
Some of the green she found, she added to the meats he'd caught. The scent, the taste, it was all compounded.
As he sat there, his mouth rested against the bow. He gnawed at it, his stomach gurgling and growling, ever persistent in its hunger, only made worse by the long and arduous task of tracking and hauling an animal back to her.
The latent energy and nervousness that came from their starvation made him huff out at the same time he plucked the string of his bow. He jumped at the vibration that touched his teeth and echoed out of his mouth, his honey brown eyes widen in shock.
The noise alerts Eve, who seems panicked, before he plucks experimentally again.
A mischievous smile crosses his face.
-
The blood on his hands reminded him of the first time Eve gave birth. It reminded him of the wound's he'd experienced when being attacked by the lions that prowled after the same prey he needed. Sometimes he could not look away from the blood, how it reflected in his mind, that shining, gleaming apple that'd torn him from his perfect home.
The same, glistening, shining red that ever reminded him that he would die.
Every death of every creature he hauled back to Eve desensitized him more and more. It was beginning to become fun, hunting these creatures down. Rewarding to wrap his beautiful, perfect, precious family within the hides of these terrible, fascinating beasts.
Eve looked beautiful, the leathers she stitched hugged her curves and incited the ordained directive within his loins. He wished to see her grow large. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs. There should be more meat on her bones, more children inside of her, more milk in her breasts. More, more, more.
That would require more of him. More of them both. To sustain more mouth's to feed, he couldn't do it just by his bow alone.
He also couldn't do it when Cain cried loudly into the night. The sound often attracted predators, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Still he staid alert, bow in hand while his boy cried and his wife fretted.
Eve had found a crop of small seeds that she harvested many of and ground up into a paste to layout before the fire. She'd done this a time or two, mixing it with her herbs. It tasted delicious, especially when paired with the animal fat.
His stomach roared almost as loud as a lion, but he focused on looking at his wife while she rocked and tutted his son. She hummed some soft tune, she named them Lilith-Bai's, much to his distaste, anger, and dismay. He complained plenty, but she persisted, claiming it would scare off his ex-Wife and her fiendish, fallen angel Lucifer, protecting their son.
A chord of spite was struck in him, as she sang to quiet their son. Lilith-Bai. He would join Eve, cradling his bow to his mouth and plucked at the string, allowing the vibrations to fall into harmony with his wife's soft singing.
The sound echoed into the night and Adam lost himself to the sensation and peace, the noise of his stomach quieting under his focus on creation of sounds. After a while, he realized his son and wife had both gone quiet and a short-lived panic coursed through his heart.
"Adam, don't stop playing," His wife admonished him softly from across the fire. His small boy, his tiny son, had his mother's eyes. Those eyes were focused and aware of him. "Cain stopped crying... He likes your noisy bow... It seems it's good for more than just murder,"
No matter how tired he was. No matter how much he anguished mentally at the loss of his original home. No matter his loss of peace. No matter the shame and embarrassment he felt. The pride that was stoked in his heart from seeing his small family, made every sacrifice worth it.
They made living a life outside of paradise worth it.
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A Simpler Life [Part 2]
word count: 1621 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining
warnings: spoilers
synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.
[part 1]
____________________________________________
Kita‘s steps quickened when your house came into view, his eyes searching the veggie patch for your straw hat but nothing. His shoulders drooped but he was glad to see the tomatoes doing well.
Maybe he should just knock and ask if you could spend dinner again together but he decided against it. You were probably busy or had better things to do. A light went on in your house and through the window he saw you lean over a small table with a mirror, applying some lipstick. From the little he could make out you wore a pretty black dress that hugged your curves so beautifully, his thoughts were temporarily disconnected. He had to swallow. You were going out. Looking down at his own dirty work clothes and touching the sweaty towel around his neck he let out a deep breath. Just as well. And feeling like he was being intrusive with his stares he continued his way home. As he walked along the dusty road, he remembered a seemingly endless discussion the twins had with Suna back in school that he was close enough to overhear. They talked about leagues and how Suna clearly was not in the same one as a girl he fancied. Back then Kita didn‘t quite understand what they meant since their volleyball team was amongst the best. How much more successful was that girl‘s team that Suna shouldn‘t even talk to her? But now it started to make sense. Rounding the bend, he entered his courtyard and spotted his dog on the porch, eagerly sniffing a familiar looking bundle.
But he had dropped it off this morning, he was sure. With a frown he walked over and picked it up. A note was tucked underneath the knot. “Seems like I made too much again - oops! Could you take this off my hands, neighbor? Y/n“
The bundle smelled heavenly and feeling the disappointment subsiding ever so slightly, he carried it inside.
The next couple of days were the same. He would walk by your house, maybe catch a glimpse of you through a window, sometimes he could talk to you for a few minutes when you were in the garden but unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to outright ask for your company and since you didn’t bring it up either he concluded that first time had just been a slip of your tongue.
But every evening without fail he came back to a new bundle of goodness, still warm, waiting for him on his porch under the watchful eyes and nose of his dog.
A new note accompanied each delivery and they already formed a small stack in his dresser drawer.
Every morning he would then drop off the cleaned box and bundle by your door, the same words as his first message written neatly on a sheet of simple, pretty paper.
“I tried a new dish with a recipe from one of the grandmothers in town. I hope you like it! - Also a quick question to a professional: I think my strawberries are dying. Their leaves are all crunchy and no matter how much I water them they seem to wilt. Thoughts? - Y/n”
He got up even earlier the next morning than usual and headed to his smaller greenhouse that kept some fruit and veggies he liked to have growing year round for his own personal use. After swiftly filling a basket with strawberries, he made his way to your home to drop them and the bundle off alongside a detailed note on what could be done about your plants before he headed to work.
“Kita-saaan!“
The young man stood up, looking around to see who called for him.
His stomach flipped when he saw your lovely figure standing on the road at the side of his field, waving. Today was another scorching hot day. You wore a light summer dress and your straw hat that he found so endearingly bewitching. He returned your wave and held his breath when he saw you pushing your bicycle along the trampled little dirt path between the neighboring field, obviously not bothered by dirtying your sandals a little. He waded out of the rice paddy to meet you.
“I ought to be mad at you.“, you said as a way of greeting him and he stopped short. Then you reached into the basket of your bicycle and took out a small bag.
“Those strawberries must be worth a fortune and there were so many of them, I can hardly finish those by myself.“
He relaxed and began to breathe again. You had cut some of the strawberries into bite-sized pieces while others topped freshly baked pastries. Lastly, you took out a glass bottle of milk, dyed slightly pink by the strawberry puree gathered at the bottom. “Do you think you have time for a little break?“
The pastries were, of course, delicious. He didn‘t expect anything else from whatever you prepared at this point. But as you two ate in the shade of a tree his mind was trying to figure out how to ask you about the other night. About you in that dress.
“Are you alright?“
He looked up from his cup of milk and met your eyes.
“What have ya been up to this week?“
“Hmm, nothing much.“, you said, spearing one of his strawberries on a skewer and pushing it between your lips. He could watch you enjoy his produce for hours, would happily spend the rest of his life feeding you just to see that blissful look in your eyes.
“I went to a friend’s birthday in the city. Let me tell you, even though I haven‘t been here long, I already missed the peace and quiet as soon as I got out of the taxi. It was the right decision to move. I‘m… so much happier here.“
He was pretty sure he had never been this relieved in his whole life. Looking at his cup of milk again he tried to hide a smile. “I‘m glad to hear that.“, he said.
Comfortable silence stretched between you like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I was wondering…“, you said eventually, “if you‘d like to come over for dinner again. Of course, if you‘d rather have the evening to yourself th-“
“Yes.“, he interrupted, then cleared his throat and continued, “That sounds great. I‘ll bring by the materials for that planter and set it up for ya.“
He was rewarded with another of your dazzlingly bright smiles.
The wheelbarrow gently wobbled over the many rocks and divots on the dirt road leading to your house. In it wooden planks as well as extra soil were stacked expertly and six little sugar snap pea starters were swaying back and forth on top.
When he arrived you were already waiting in your front yard, dressed for work, saluting when he halted. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts again.
“Alright, where do we start?“
“This‘ll only take 10 minutes.“, he waved you off.
“But if I help it might only take 9. Or… 30, depending on how much I slow you down.“
Kita laughed.
“Okay, but ya‘ll need gloves. The wood could splinter.“
“Oh. I don‘t have any.“
He reached into his back pocket and took out his pair, holding it out to you.
“What about you, though?“
“I‘ll be careful.“
It really didn‘t take long to connect the four pre-cut pieces with each other. Kita drove the long nails efficiently into the wood while you held the planks, trying not to get too distracted by the muscles in his shoulders and forearms. How could someone be this kind and generous? And handsome! And single!? Were the women in this town blind? But then again you did bring down the age average quite significantly…
“Y/n-san?“
His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He held his hand out to you. For a confused moment you didn‘t know what to do and just took it. And Kita… he blushed.
“I asked for the other nail, please.“
“Oh my gosh, yes. Sorry. Uhm, here.“ You hastily pulled your hand away, your face burning bright red, and handed him the next nail.
Soon you were filling up the space with the soil he brought and planted the little starters. Using bamboo sticks and twine a makeshift trellis was quickly added and you stood up to admire your handiwork. You grinned and took off his gloves, holding up your hand for a high five.
When he raised his right you squinted and took it in yours.
“You did get a splinter!“, you scolded, “Man…! Come on.“
And you dragged him inside.
Kita thought he might explode at any second if you kept touching him. After carefully washing his hand and holding it under a steady stream of lukewarm water you pulled him over to your couch and asked him to keep his hand under the light of a small lamp on the side table. Rubbing down a pair of tweezers with some sake from your pantry you knelt in front of him, bringing his hand so close to your face he could feel your warm breath tickle his skin. It was quite maddening. Never had he felt such a strong desire for action. His whole body was tense like a taut bowstring. He held his breath while you worked, soft careful fingers rubbing and squeezing his calloused hand. He didn’t even notice the sting when you disinfected the spot after. But his skin burned when you applied a bandaid, gently smoothing out the corners.
“All done.”, you announced and got up to put the supplies away. He let out his breath, flexing his hand.
____________________________________________
art: coloring done by @keiko-chan
#kita x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#kita shinsuke x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#kita shinsuke x y/n#kita shinsuke x you#kita shinsuke x reader#haikyuu kita#kita shinsuke#kita fluff#hq kita#kita x reader
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Would loveeee to see hector super sick and feverish with a stomach bug where all he wants is to be comforted by Isaiah/Arnie/both- just love his softer side- pretty sure he’s a softie deep down 🤭
Hey nonny! Thank you for the request!! Found a good way to insert it. This will have a part 2 for another request hehe.
Something serious
Hector burst through the door, heading straight for the kitchen without a word of greeting.
Arnie was not taking it personally, but he was curious about what kind of hunger spree made Hector so desperate.
He got up from the couch to check. "Did you skip lunch or-?
Except Hector wasn't riding their fridge. He was braced over the kitchen sink and retching loudly.
"Oi. Okay," Arnie said with a wince as a huge gush of puke hit the bottom of the granite. "What happened to you?"
"Ate-uuurp-too fast." Hector burped up another mouthful before spitting and letting the faucet run over the mess.
"Really? Wasn't something off about the food?" Hector's speed and capacity were way too impressive for this to happen easily.
Hector swiped his wrist over his mouth, sweaty all over.
Arnie tore off a handful of kitchen towels and handed it to him.
Hector took it gratefully, mopping his face and mouth. "I was so hungry at lunch that my stomach hurt. Must have eaten too quick, cause I got queasy on the way." Hector put a hand on his belly as it whined loudly. For puking just a minute ago, his stomach looked distended, as if he was still full.
"Sure it was hunger? Maybe you were getting down with something and ate lunch on top," Arnie sighed, grabbing Hector by the elbow to steer him towards the living room. "How many times do I have to say that you shouldn't eat, when your stomach is hurting?"
Hector was feeling crappy enough to follow Arnie's guidance, flopping down on the couch and curling his hands protectively around his middle. "Ugh. Thought it would help."
Arnie rolled his eyes. "It's always the same with you—no restraint. Listening to your body's signals could have spared you from all this puking."
Hector huffed. "Stop lecturing, snotnose, and get me some water."
Arnie stuck his tongue at him, but obeyed, getting some cold water from the kitchen, checking if the sink was clean on the way.
Hector gulped down the water greedily, even as Arnie patted his hand. "Slow down, you'll make yourself sick again."
To be fair, Hector tried to slow the tempo before it picked up again. Arnie sat down next to him with a grimace. No helping that.
"You want to watch something and take it easy?" Arnie asked, putting the back of his hand to Hector's forehead. He was a little warm. "I think you should rest. Looks like a flu to me."
Hector, feeling evidently better, swatted his hand away. "And whose fault is that? You're the only flu spreader around. Damn human germs."
Arnie gave him another eye roll. "Your immunity needs some work then, if you catch things that I don't even have symptoms for."
Arnie put on a rerun of Big Bang Theory, which was usually so foreign and boring to Hector that it put him to sleep. And he was right, his older brother was snoring away, head lolling to the armrest, in a few minutes.
After two episodes, Hector stirred though, grimacing with a moan.
"You want a blanket?" Arnie asked quietly as Hector curled into himself, although he could see some more sweat beading on his neck.
"Nah. Think I'm just going to sleep this off in the bed," Hector said, not bothering to muffle a burp as he got up clumsily. His hand shot up to cradle the top of his belly like it was about to fall open.
"You sure you didn't eat something spicy at lunch?" Arnie said, watching him stumble out with another burp. "You get disgusting like that every time."
Hector gave him an angry glare. "I do not. I can handle spicy food."
Arnie snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Tell that to someone who doesn't have to live with you and hear all the consequences."
Hector grunted something crude on his way, which caused Arnie to chuckle.
It wouldn't be unusual in the slightest if he did eat something spicy and then played it off as a flu just to not feel embarrassed.
It would be fine. Hector was a grumpy patient, even if it was the flu, but as long as he stopped eating and took a day off, he would be fine.
Wolves were so senstive to pain. Just a bit of discomfort, and they were all dramatic and moaning. Hector more than most. Physical injuries he got rid of with his shadow, so any sickness, cold, or flu that wouldn't heal had him up in arms and whiny. Arnie had gotten used to not taking it too seriously.
Arnie watched a few more episodes, checking his phone and dozed off on the couch himself.
He went to check on Hector, but he looked peacefully asleep in the bed.
Arnie prepared him a glass of water and a bucket, just in case. Leaving the door open and satisfied with his precautions, he went to his own room, catching the sleeping wave before it was worse off.
...
Arnie woke up to the harsh sounds of throaty retches. Scrambling up a little slow from sleep, he braced himself on the doorframe in Hector's room, switching the small bedside table lamp on.
Hector didn't even get up, hunched over the bed and heaving over the bucket.
What did, however, get up was his shadow. It was sprawling across the wall behind the bed and wiggling uneasily across the floor.
Arnie stepped around it gingerly. Hector's shadow wouldn't hurt him, he knew, but it was a scary big thing to crawl around his feet.
Despite Hector's best efforts, the bucket was basically empty, only spits of yellow bile inside.
Arnie sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed sleepily. Always so dramatic with Hector.
"Hex, you got nothing inside you, you are empty," he said, patting his back.
"Doesn't-doesn't feel like it-" Hector coughed between heaves.
He moaned, clutching the side of his belly as he lay back down, breathing harshly. "That freaking hurt."
"Flu it is," Arnie said with a yawn. "You are heaving even when running on empty."
"Then why the hell does it hurt?" Hector complained, sniffling. Arnie admonished himself for not bringing some more paper towels, too.
"It's normal to get cramps during the flu-"
"No, not crampy" Hector protested through gritted teeth. "It fucking hurts. And the pain travels."
Arnie frowned. "Travels? What?"
"The spot," Hector said, clutching at the right side of his stomach. It was still bloated, even though he had nothing to vomit. Arnie's eyebrows scrunched even more. This was starting to get weird.
"It was in the middle and now it's freaking here and it feels like someone stabbed me," Hector said angrily, just a breath away from whining. His shadow made an aggressive, wavy motion above their heads.
Arnie rubbed at his eyes, much more alert now. "So to sum it up - you felt sick during lunch, thought it was hunger, threw up at home and you were in pain since then?"
"I - I felt kind of off yesterday too, but like...just sluggish? Thought I was tired." Hector rolled onto his back, hands sliding lower on his right side.
Arnie leaned in closer. "Show me." He gently pried Hector's hands away, lifting up his shirt. His stomach was still so blown up, but he could see nothing on the spot. It seemed too specific for a place though, lower right abdomen...he pushed his hands around, trying to find some kind of physical proof, a bump or swell. Hector didn't protest his poking, eyes closed and pinched.
Arnie was the one with any basic knowledge of human anatomy and complications, since Hector always insisted that were human weaknesses that had nothing to do with him.
Arnie retracted his hands with a sigh, considering writing it off as a cramp lasting too long, when Hector whimpered. Like a real little whimper. He locked his limbs together, arms around his stomach again, tears leaking out. His shadow all but flooded the damn room, swinging angrily from one side to the other at Hector's pain.
"What, what did I do?" Arnie asked in panic, falling to his knees on the floor and taking Hector's forearm in both hands. "Hex? Hex, what-"
Hector twitched under his hands, twisting his face into the sheets as a trickle of bile came out of the corner of his mouth.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" Arnie said, pressing his forehead to Hector's as his older brother rode the pain out.
Hector said nothing, another little whimper coming up.
Arnie got up as quickly as he could to grab his phone. He dialed up the ambulance and called as he returned, not wanting to leave Hector alone.
"Noooo, no hospital," Hector whined pitifully.
"Yes, we have to," Arnie said in a strangled noise, putting his free hand on Hector's shoulder. "Please. Trust me. This is something serious."
With great effort, Hector pulled a hand away from his stomach and clutched Arnie's forearm, breathing raggedly as they both waited for the medics.
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What was lost...
Joel can't seem to shake you, even when he knows you're dead and gone. A canon Lavender one shot set in between chapters 8 and 9, a few months before Joel and Tommy arrive in Boston.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender
Length: 2.3k
Warnings: Angst. This is pure angst, I'm sorry. Imagined canon-typical violence. Mention of sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.
A/N: I got this idea from an anonymous ask when I wrote about wanting to write Joel with a dead reader and they suggested writing Joel when he thought Doc was dead. SHE IS NOT REALLY DEAD, OK? Joel thinks she's dead. She's not dead. Doc is fine. She's in Boston calling QZs looking for Joel, working at the school and the clinic, and being codependent with Andrew. It's OK. I promise.
July 2008
I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.
Joel woke with a start.
It was still dark, the moon full and high, and for half a glorious second, he thought it was you asleep against him. That the two of you were camping with Sarah and you would sense him in your sleep and reach back to put a hand at his waist and tug him closer.
He asked you once if you knew you did that, that when he woke and sat up in the night that you would reach for him until you found him and pull him back to you where he belonged, always with a little satisfied sigh. As though him being close was all you needed in the world, even when you were unconscious.
You’d laughed when he asked, tucking your chin like you wanted to hide from it.
“God, I’m sorry!” You said as you caught your breath. “I had no idea I did that! I promise, I won’t hunt you down in my sleep if you pull away from me…”
Joel had laughed a little, too.
“Don’t apologize,” he’d said. “Like it when you keep me in line.”
“Good,” you smiled, teasing and sitting up a little straighter. “You’d better.”
But it wasn’t you, of course. It hadn’t been you for five years. Five years to the goddamn day.
Joel wished he’d lose track of the fucking date but he couldn’t seem to. Every time he seemed to get close, they’d have to do something like coordinate a raid on a FEDRA caravan and he’d be set back on track, his brain always keeping count.
He wanted to forget his birthday the most. If there was any mercy left in the world, he’d have never seen another one after 36 but here he was, closing in on 41 and still marking time.
He wished he could forget Sarah’s birthday, too. And yours.
But, strangely, July 18 was the second hardest day for him. It was the last day the three of you were together. The last time he’d heard your voice right beside him, the last time he’d held you, the last time he had nuzzled into your hair and your skin and breathed in the lavender scent of you.
The body next to him didn’t smell like lavender. She didn’t fit against his body like you did, either. She didn’t sound like you or taste like you or feel like you. But she was close and warm and wanted him and he’d given in. He almost always did. Because what they offered wasn’t sex, not really. It was a chance to forget, for a moment. If she looked like you, it was a chance to pretend, too.
This one didn’t look much like you, though. He’d closed his eyes during because it didn’t seem to matter that you’d been dead for years, it still felt wrong to be with anyone besides you. It didn’t make much difference. She didn’t feel like you. He’d pulled out and finished with his hand, thinking about how you felt that day five years ago in the water.
“Everything OK?” The woman beside him sounded groggy.
He couldn’t remember her name.
“Fine,” he said quietly. “Just takin’ over the watch. Go back to sleep.”
She just shrugged and settled on the ground again as Joel worked his way through the woods, finding Tommy walking the perimeter of where they’d stopped for the night.
“You got another two hours to sleep,” Tommy said, frowning in the moonlight.
“I’m awake,” Joel said. “May as well take over.”
Tommy gave him a look for a moment before he sighed.
“S’long as you’re OK,” he said, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Should be good for a while, just did a sweep.”
Joel just gave him a nod and Tommy made his way back to camp as Joel settled into a notch in some roots, his back resting against the trunk of a tree.
“She’s not me, you know.”
Your voice was so close beside him it would have made him jump if it were any other sound. But it was you.
He was used to this by now, the way you haunted him on days like this.
He wasn’t sure why you’d hung on in ways Sarah hadn’t. Maybe because he knew what happened to her, knew where her body had gone cold.
He’d spent so much time trying to drown out that memory - to shove it away, suffocate it, anything to keep it from taking over - that he thought he might have pushed all of her aside with it. He didn’t hear her voice as often anymore, didn’t picture her there next to him either.
You were another story. His mind seemed to enjoy torturing him when it came to you. He’d pictured your death so many times now, the imagined memory of it finding him in his sleep on so many nights.
Tonight had been one of those nights. This time, you’d died at the hands of a man like him. You had your backpack on, the one Joel had told you to pack, and you were walking where he’d told you to go. He could see you so clearly, your hair in braids with ribbons on the ends and your cheeks with smears of dirt like you sometimes got when camping. You’d tried to beg for your pack because Joel had told you it was important and then you tried to beg for your life because he’d told you that was important, too.
It hadn’t worked.
You’d been in the man’s grip, his knife at your throat and your eyes found Joel’s and you said the same thing to him you always did before you died at the hands of whatever monster he’d left you to suffer:
I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.
“Don’t expect her to be you,” Joel said quietly, refusing to look at the ghost beside him. He didn’t need to. He knew what you’d look like, down to the jeans you were wearing and how many buttons were done up on your shirt. You always came to him in the form you’d been in the last time he’d seen you, when you waved to him as you passed through airport security on your way back to New York five years ago today.
“I wonder why you’re always let down then,” you sounded almost smug. It didn’t sound right on your voice. You were so rarely smug. He’d made you mean in death.
“Does it matter?” He asked.
“I guess not,” you said. “Just thought you’d have found something better to do by now. It’s been five years, Joel.”
He turned to look at you then. You were sitting close enough to him that, if you were real, he would feel the heat of you there.
But there was no warmth to be found in a ghost.
“Know how long it’s been,” he said gruffly.
“Well, you probably deserve to torture yourself a little,” you sighed, no longer looking at him and out at the forest instead. “It’s your fault I died the way I did, you know.”
That’s how he knew it was all in his head. You’d never say that to him.
Even if it was true.
“I know.”
He sat in silence for a few minutes, refusing to look at you, speak to you even though he sometimes wondered if falling into his delusions would be the best he could hope for in this life. Nothing else would measure up to you. He knew that. He would, for the rest of his life, regret not being beside you when the world ended. He would, for the rest of his life, compare every woman he ever met to you. He would, for the rest of his life, wish for something he could never have because he’d done nothing but fucking fail the only people in the world who mattered. Now, you were both out of reach.
“I miss you, you know,” you said eventually, quietly. “I missed you when I died, too.”
Joel didn’t say anything. He just clenched his jaw.
“I was alone,” you said. “I was scared. You know how I got panic attacks, imagine how bad it would have been then…”
“Stop.”
“How I would have looked for you…”
“Stop it.”
“How I would have been worried about you, even as they killed me I would have been worrying for you…”
“SHUT UP!”
He yelled it, finally looking at you again. But you weren’t what he expected. At least, not in how you were looking at him.
So often when he pictured you now, when you spoke to him like this - when he was sleep deprived but couldn’t rest and was in desperate need of some kind of solace - there was an almost vicious look on your face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you look like that when you were alive, it was an expression entirely of his mind’s invention. You had never been cruel or even really aggressive in life but he couldn’t think of you without it. It hurt too much to see you kind.
But you looked earnest and sad now, so like the real you, like he was worthy of your pity for the first time in five years. It was like his heart beat for the first time since he’d held his daughter’s body.
“You never even looked for me, Joel,” you said softly. “I could have made it, you know.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t say that. Don’t put that thought in me, don’t…”
“I could have. You can’t know, not really. Why did you give up on me? Why didn’t you come find me? Save me?”
“How would you have lived?” He asked, meaning to sound angry but he couldn’t. “How would you have fucking made it through that? What was I supposed to find? What was I supposed to save?”
You just shrugged.
“If you really think I’m gone, why didn’t you join me? Join her?”
He looked straight ahead.
“I tried.”
“You flinched.”
He hung his head, clenched his jaw. Yes, he’d failed at that, too.
“Is this really how you’re going to spend your life, Joel?” You sounded like you. He could almost feel the gentle brush of your fingers on his neck. He still knew your touch so well, he still compared every woman he ever felt to that touch. “Hurting people and killing people and suffering yourself? Do you think this is what I would want for you?”
He looked to the side, as far from you as he could without leaving you.
“You could try something else,” you said after a moment.
He looked back to you again. You were still so beautiful. Even dead, you were beautiful.
“Try what?” He asked. “What other fuckin’ options do I have?”
“You could go to a QZ,” you shrugged. “Try to be a person again. Have a life.”
He scoffed.
“What’s the point?”
“What’s the point of any of it?” You asked. “You flinched, Joel. There must be a reason for it. Do you really think you’re going to find it out here, like this? Become yourself again, become the man I loved so much that I begged him to stay, even when he told me I wasn’t worth staying for. I know you can.”
Joel thought for a moment.
What if you were right? What if there was still some kind of meaning to this fucked up world he was trapped in? It didn’t seem possible, not really. But you were impossible, too. You’d been impossible before the world ended and yet you’d existed. You had existed and you had chosen him.
“You loved me once,” you said softly.
“I still love you,” he said. “Always will.”
“Then try. For me. OK?”
You were looking at him, so full of hope and love that he couldn’t say no. He could never say no, not to you.
He took a deep breath.
“OK.”
You smiled and you were beautiful, still so beautiful.
“Thank you,” you said before you took a deep breath and turned your face toward the full moon like you were basking in the sun. “I think it’s time for me to go. But I’ll see you soon.”
He huffed, cynical, looking in front of again.
“Sure you’ll be back when I’m too tired to think straight,” he said.
“I’m sure I will,” he heard the smile in your voice. “But who knows? Maybe you won’t need me anymore, not once you find yourself again.”
He looked at you, frowning.
“What…”
“Take care of yourself for me,” you leaned in so close, close enough that, if you were real, he would feel the brush of your lips on his and smell the lavender of your shampoo. “I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.”
You were gone before he had a chance to respond, nothing but air and silence, the echo of a ghost in your wake.
He sighed and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to think. Maybe a QZ wasn’t a terrible idea. They’d heard some halfway decent things about Boston lately. If they started heading that way now, they could be there before the snow flies.
And Boston, at least, was a new city. A place he’d never been, where there were no ghosts to haunt him. It was a good a place as any to try to become a person again. It was a good a place as any to try to move past you.
Joel settled in to his watch, deciding to talk to Tommy in the morning. He’d be on board. He always was, when Joel made up his mind.
And who knows, maybe he would find something in Boston worth flinching for.
#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#lavender#joel miller x oc#angst#lavenderversary
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I'm not sure if you're still doing those, butttt
Bathtub Fic x Sick/Injured or Scars Fic for Elucien 😁
For you…YES!!
Bathtub Fic & Sick/Injured or Scars
For the scene, I am going to take us to the Winter Court. Perhaps it is a part of their journey to Koschei or to explore her Seer powers—early in the relationship, with the barest shreds of trust between them—and somewhere along the travels, they encounter the infamous hot springs of Winter.
Picture mountains and snow and nuzzled deep within the white, icy forests lay natural hot springs. Lucien has been here of course from his emissary days. He explains the benefits and urges Elain that she simply must try out this particular hidden gem—that there is none like it in all of Pythian. She agrees nervously. And her eyes go wide as she watches Lucien begin to strip off all his clothes.
Elain blushed, turning around instantly. “What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Well, I’m certainly not going to get my clothes wet in this cold and the hot springs are best enjoyed naturally.” Lucien laughed and she could hear him kick off his shoes and pants behind her. Then the sound of water splashing as he entered, quickly followed by a near moan from Lucien’s lips. “Come on, Elain. It’s incredible. I promise I won’t look, lady. On my honor.”
It’s enough to make Elain bite her lip and consider. It did seem incredible. And she had dreamed of traveling the world her entire life. She couldn’t be a coward now that she was here. “Turn around!” She barked her command, and only once her mate confirmed he was indeed facing the other direction with his eyes closed did she begin to undo her dress, stockings, and boots. Without a single article of clothing, she raced into the water before the shivers overtook her body. And indeed it was amazing. A similar relaxed moan tumbled out of her mouth as she sank into the warm, steamy waters.
They were back to back, because Elain didn’t have the courage to do it any different. To bare herself to him. Not with the amount of desire she secretly harbored inside. Even if the water came up right to the swell of her breasts. But even like this, she could sense his smile. His comfort. They talked leisurely and at length. Now that they were finally spending time together, she was caught off guard by how easily he could make her laugh. It was at one particularly wicked joke that her body curved and her skin made contact with his back.
Immediately she felt the scars. Ridges upon ridges of marks across his back. They both flinched instantly. Elain from the surprise and Lucien no doubt from the sorrow and pain embedded deep with every scar.
There’s no other thought except concern surging through her veins as she whips around, breaking her own rules, to face his back. He is frozen, as if he’s been caught. Shame? Elain can’t stop the gasp as she takes in his whipped back. “Who—how—” She is shaking even if the water is so unnaturally hot, leaving her pale skin red with the heat.
“Punishment when I was Under the Mountain.” He answers. Elain reaches for his back, running her fingers across every single mark. He does not move. There’s so much she can see now. The history like a constellation across his shoulder blades and spine. The pain etched in his skin, one of loyalty and bravery and suffering, so much like the matching one on his eye. She can see the corded muscles taut with restraint. The curve of his ass just below the water’s surface. His long molten, red hair curtained over his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. And she means it. She’s sorry for what happened. The primal, visceral part of the mating bond wants to avenge him. Wants to make it as if it never happened. And she’s sorry for all the distance she had once kept between them, when all he had were these scars to keep him company all this time.
Elain wraps her arms around his middle, fingers gliding over the defined abs of his stomach, one hand grazing against the strong, tone muscle of his chest. She kisses his shoulder, right at one of the scars. The another and another and another.
And maybe, just maybe, she’s working up the courage to spin him around and kiss him elsewhere.
#elucien#FADE TO BLACK#kiss him on the mouth or more south you say?#we’ll never know unless i end up writing the full thing which i very well might#ask games
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