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pasukiyo · 7 months

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HANDLE IT

mike schmidt x f!teacher!reader word count; 2,417 warnings; once again, no plot, just porn <3 summary; mike has a look. that's never a good sign.

“Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”

Mike watched from his seat behind the teacher’s desk as his girlfriend saw her class out the door, hand on the handle and pulling it closed behind them, making sure to twist the lock while she did. The corners of his mouth twitched as she sighed and fell back against the door, blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face.

“Long day?” Mike asked and she narrowed her eyes over at him, her lips quirked in a tired grin. “Don’t even get me started,” she grumbled as she pushed herself off of the door, heels clicking against the tile as she made her way back to her desk.

“Abby hasn’t been a problem, I hope?” Mike cocked an eyebrow to his hairline as she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, settling herself down in her chair. She rolled her eyes at this, “you always make it seem like she should be causing trouble,” she tittered. “No, Abby’s always great.”

She watched as Mike reached for the floor beside him, a plastic takeout bag in his hand and she grinned, wiggling in her seat as he began to unravel the knot in the handles. “Sooo… what did you bring me?” She asked, letting the smell of what she swore was tomato sauce waft through her nostrils.

“New Italian place opened in the mall. Figured we could try it out,” he replied as he handed her one of the takeout boxes in which she ripped the lid off of, grinning over at Mike. “Spaghetti with meatballs. You know me so well.”

She leaned forward as he handed her the plastic fork to press a kiss against his lips and Mike smiled, practically chasing after her mouth again when she pulled away. He watched as she spun the spaghetti around her fork, as she took a bite and moaned at the taste.

Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight.

“What is this place called? It’s amazing,” she moaned, chewing behind her fingers as she turned to glance over at Mike. “Ten out of ten. This might even be better than your spaghetti and meatballs.”

Mike, although distracted by something else entirely, furrowed his brows at this, tossing his hands up. “Hey,” he said. “Thought you loved my spaghetti and meatballs.”

She shrugged, “they’re alright.” Mike playfully shoved her shoulder and she tried to bite back a chuckle, glancing back over to him. “Hey, I don’t see you eating spaghetti and meatballs, why don’t you try and find out?” She laughed, taking a bite from a meatball as Mike pressed his lips together, curved into a grin as he shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that hungry right now.”

She raised a brow and tilted her head to eye the other takeout box in the plastic bag. “Mike, you haven’t even touched your food,” she tittered, eyeing him incredulously. She narrowed her lids, “you have a look.”

The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched— she was catching on. “I don’t have a look.”

Her face fell and she dropped her fork in the to-go box, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, you do.”

Mike leaned back in his seat and locked his fingers together on his lap, shrugging as he turned his head to face her. “Enlighten me, what look do you think I have?”

For a fleeting moment, her gaze lowered to the very evident tent in his jeans, her thighs subconsciously clenching together at the sight, cheeks growing warm when he chuckled. She looked away, soothing her palms up and down the length of her skirt and Mike watched, teeth sunken into the inside of his cheek. A scenario played in the forefront of his mind, fantasizing about ripping the skirt clean off her legs and taking her right there on top of her desk had him balling a fist, squeezing his thumb so tight, it almost felt like it’d pop.

“Mike…”

“What?” He murmured, leaning in closer, brushing away the hair curtaining away the side of her face back behind her ear. She melted like wax at his touch, as if her fingertips were flames. Her skin burned so hot now, she feared she actually would melt into a pool of magma on the floor below.

“Here?” She whispered as he rolled his chair closer, his breath a phantom looming over her flesh, sending shivers slithering down the coil of her spine. Mike peered up into the sides of her irises, “why not?”

His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her ear and she trembled, panicking eyes darting to the door she had thankfully locked. “I’ll give you a million reasons why not,” she murmured as his kisses trailed down to the curve of her shoulder, the scruff on his chin and just above his lips deliciously burning her skin.

“I can be sneaky,” he whispered against the valley between her neck and shoulder, his lips a crescent against her skin when he playfully nipped her flesh between his teeth there. She jolted and hissed, clenching her thighs together once more as the familiar slick of warmth burned the pit of her belly. “If somebody walks in, we’re both dead,” she murmured as his palm gripped and soothed down the length of her thigh, kneading at her knee, teasing her, taunting her.

“Relax, babe,” he breathed a chuckle against the crook of her neck. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Wouldn’t want you to get all fucked out before the day is over.”

His low, raspy words had her reeling, her head in a frenzy and teetering on the edge of a mindset she knew she was at risk of falling down into. “Screw you, Mike,” she muttered through gritted teeth as he grinned, placing one last kiss against the breadth of her shoulder before sinking down to his knees on the floor, hanging his head so that he could fit beneath the desk.

Her heart drummed against her chest as he slithered his way between her legs, hands on her knees as slowly he parted them, as if he were unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. Through heavy eyelids, she peered down at him just as a silent curse fell from his mouth, teeth burrowed into the plush of his bottom lip as the pads of his thumbs rubbed circles into the inside of her knees.

“You’re soaked clean through your panties,” he chuckled and she burned brighter, sweat already beginning to bead at her hairline and her chest heaving to the unsteady beat of her heart. His name fell from her lips in a whispered sigh as he reached forward with his right thumb, pressing the fat of it straight onto her clothed clit, her back arching up off of her chair as he traced an agonizingly slow and painful circle against it, sighing at the way her slick showed through the thin fabric of her underwear.

“Fffuck,” he grumbled beneath his breath, hiking the skirt that hugged her curves until they pooled at her hips, pushing her knees further apart until he had full access to everything. His gaze was like a laser, burning through the damp fabric of her panties straight through to her pussy. He eyed her like he was starved, like he’d go hungry if he didn't get himself a taste.

Mike hooked his middle and forefinger around the hem of her underwear and tugged, although with some resistance with how wet she was. She gasped when the fabric unstuck itself from her arousal, Mike’s lips falling agape as he tugged her panties all the way down her legs until they hooked around one single ankle. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around her hips and with his palms to her ass, drawing her in even closer until she sat on the edge of her seat.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled at the sight before him, admiring every single inch of her as if she were an artifact. She shuddered beneath his stare. “Mike,” she mewled through a shaky breath, “please.”

With those deep, rich chocolate brown eyes, he glimpsed up at her and she gazed back, wondering when his pupils ended and his irises started. His eyes glimmered with longing, with desire, with lust. She thought she’d come from just his stare alone.

“Have to stay quiet, hm?” He nodded up at her, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a kiss just above her clit, feeling it throb against his chin as she writhed, trying to suppress her mewl. She nodded, pressing her lips together as she briefly glanced up at the door then to the windows— she was so grateful she’d drawn the blinds earlier.

Their gazes never leaving one another, Mike carefully leaned down to press a tender kiss on top of her aching bud, her toes curling in, back arching off the back of her chair. One of her hands flung to the mess of dark tendrils atop his head, the other gripping the armrest of her desk chair. Mike pulled away again, the makings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” He asked and she whimpered, nodding, every ounce of dignity in her body long gone, thrown somewhere far away from right there.

“Just… please, Mike,” she whined, trying to keep her voice on the low as she gripped the roots of his hair tighter, inviting him back into her warmth, his arousal like a gloss on his lips. The crescent shape of his lips fell back against her clit as he pressed another kiss to it, electricity flowing through her body and making her jolt once more.

Mike eyed her through hooded lids as he licked a stripe all the way from her entrance back up the underside of her clit, relishing in the way she’d tremble and press her lips together in a desperate attempt to silence her whimpers. The delectable taste of her arousal coated his tongue and simmered on his taste buds as if she were his ambrosia, and he hummed as he licked another line up her slit.

“Taste so damn good,” he practically growled against her cunt as he plunged his face back in, his lips around her clit and tongue swirling against the sensitive nub. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face now as she threw her head back, using every last ounce of strength inside her body to will her moans to stay at a minimum. All she could do was pray that nobody would come knocking on her classroom door now.

A string of curses, his name among the mix, tumbled from her lips as he sucked her clit, every swirl of his tongue coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. She was balancing on a tightrope now, teetering on bliss as his tongue trailed down to her entrance, slow but firm as it pushed its way in. Her fingers tightened in the mess of hair on his head, pulling harder, making him surge into her.

She could feel every inch of his tongue inside of her and he was so close, the bridge of his nose pressed deliciously down on her clit, sending her down into a spiral of pleasure. She squeezed her eyelids together so tight, she was seeing stars, a shimmering backdrop of glitter as he swirled his muscle inside of her, humming into her at her taste.

“Sh… shi… shit, Mike!” She gasped as he nodded his head, tongue swirling inside of her, the bridge of his nose rubbing up and down against her clit. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her hand, every move his tongue made and every bit of pressure his nose applied to her clit added more rubber bands to the ball pressing down against the pit of her belly, dangerously close to erupting. “I’m… I’m gonna come if you don’t… if you don’t stop.”

Mike blinked up at her and pulled away for breath, every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose down slick and shiny with her arousal. She felt herself clench at the mere sight as his chest heaved, chasing air back into his lungs, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m betting on it, babe,” he chuckled before diving back in, her pussy empty one moment and nearly full of his tongue the next.

His eagerness almost had her screaming, her nails scraping so hard against his scalp, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she’d draw blood. Mike hummed against her— he didn’t seem to mind so much.

Oh, how could he when he could sense she was so close? He could practically smell her orgasm, using every ounce of skill in his body to push her even closer to the edge, to knock her unsteady on top of that tightrope until it snapped below her altogether.

With her hand not tangled in his hair, she sank her teeth into the side of her hand to muffle the scream that ripped through her body, squeezing her eyelids shut even tighter as her body spasms, bones rattling in her release’s wake. Her orgasm thundered and cracked through her body like an earthquake, the sheer power of her release like a tempest. Her thighs squeezed around Mike’s head and he palmed at the sides of them as he swirled his tongue inside of her again and again, making sure not a drop of her went to waste.

He was practically drinking her, slurping every last drop until there was none left to be had. And only when that moment came did he pull away, breathless as he sat back on his heels below her desk, swiping at the slick dripping down his face with the back of his hand.

Mike gazed up at her curiously, her head still thrown back over the back of the chair, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled as he pushed himself out from underneath her desk and up so that he could stand beside her, a palm cupping her cheek, the other aiding her head to sit normally on her shoulders. The pad of his thumb soothed over against her cheek, coaxing her out of her bleary state, her vision slowly beginning to clear again.

Mike tried to bite back his smile, “doing alright there?”

She huffed as her cheeks burned, “shut up, Mike.”

a/n; i ended up writing up this one in like 45 minutes while sitting in the bathtub LMAO y'all went absolutely crazy with the last mike fic, you literally broke my tumblr notifications 😭 glad to see so many others horny for josh in this movie too

TAGLIST !!

@bxbyyyjocelyn

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #michael afton #michael afton x reader #mike schmidt imagine

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arcane-trickster · 2 years

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Typically I don’t do angry tumblr rants but this gbbo smore shit has a cold rage burning in the fireplace of my soul and the words ‘sacrilege’ and ‘heresy’ bubbling up from the depths of my being to be played on loop in mute horror like a scratched record.

So.

This monstrosity is what gbbo was trying to pass off as a smore.

This is not a smore. Look at it. It’s downright undercooked. That’s not even marshmallow. Or chocolate. It looks cold. This is about as much a smore as Cris Pratt is a voice actor. As a corgi is a wolf. As gbbo is apparently competent at research.

Also me to explain what a smore is.

For anyone who doesn’t know what the fudge a smore is, it’s a typical summertime treat often made at summercamp, when camping, or if you live in a place with a fireplace/assess to a campfire sometimes you’ll use that.

Basically it goes like this; it takes five ingredients, gram crackers, any chocolate bar with rectangular pieces you can break off (traditionally Hershey’s as it’s the cheapest and smores tend to be made in bulk, it’s one of those things a group of people make together otherwise it won’t taste right) large marshmallows, an open flame, and as previously mentioned more than one person to make them at the same time. If you make smores alone, the smores too will be sad and alone.

First you take two gram crackers and break off 1 to 2 sections of chocolate. Place the chocolate on each side, so both sides are all chocolatey. Then you take a marshmallow and skewer it on either a pointy stick from the ground or a metal skewer specificity made for roasting marshmallows/hotdogs depending on if someone has any.

Next you, well, roast the marshmallows. If you’re doing this at a campfire this involves a lot of moving away from the direction the smoke is blowing well and minor amounts of giggle-filled pvp as everyone jostles for the best spots around the fire. Mellow roasting is one of those things that is kind of the point of making marshmallows, the epic highs and lows of seeing how close to the fire you can get yours and how long you can hold it there before it either falls off or catches fire is integral to the entire experience.

Once you hastily blow out the one-fire part of the marshmallow, you slide it off the stick and between the gram crackers and chocolate. Then you squish it a bit to get the chocolate all nice and gooey, and bite in.

It’s gooey, it’s very messy, and the closer it gets to midnight the more it’s delicious.

So now we have established what a smore is, allow me to explain how UTTERLY BUTCHERED that abomination of sugar is.

First, we have the ingredients themselves. Paul Bitchwood describes the middle as ‘Italian meringue’.

Italian meringue.

Italian. Fucking. Meringue.

*deep breath*

IS NOT A MARSHMALLOW.

It does not share THE BASIC PROPERTIES OF A MARSHMALLOW.

YOU CANNOT STAB MERINGUE WITH A STCK AND HAVE IT STAY ON THE FUCKING SICK. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A MARSHMALLOW BEFORE MR BITCHWOOD???? WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO THROW THE TOP OF A LEMON MERINGUE PIE AT YOU TO DEMONSTRATE “PAUL”?! IF IT DOESN’T BOUNCE ITS NOT A FUCKING MELLOW AND THE EFECT ON YOUR FACE WOULD BE ONE HELL OF AN IMPROVEMENT!

So already we have the single most important ingredient straight up ‘substituted’ (if you can even call it that) for an entirely different food with a completely different texture, taste, consistency, and behavior under heat.

But there’s more!

See, that chocolate? It’s not melted chocolate like you might think at first glance- no no no, that’s fucking GANACHE.

YOU KnOW, The THing With THE CoNsistenCY of FroSTING???? :) :) :)

The thing that you expressly don’t want to melt when using it in cooking on pain of death?

Thus removing THE ENTIRE PURPOSE CONSISTENCY FLAVER AND TEXTURE OF THE INGREDIENT

AGAIN!

and then. Ohhhhhhh and then.

Those are no gram crackers.

Those are ‘digestibles”

WHAT THE FUCK ARE DIGESTABLES

THATS WHAT HAPPENS TO ALL FOOD ITS NOT SPECIAL DUMBASS

WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF RICH PEOPLE SHIT ARE YOU EATING THAT YOU NEED TO POINT THAT OUT IN THE NAME

WHAT THE FUCK

AND IT AGAIN HAS A DIFFERENT EVERYTHING THEN GRAaM CRACKERS

WHY

YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO DO THAT IF YOU WANTED IT TO SOUND FANCY YOU COULD HAVE JUST MADE GRAM CRACKERS FROM SCRATCH IVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE DO IT BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BUT ITS AT LEAST POSSIBLE AGHHHHHHHHHHH

And then. To add insult to injury after FUCKING injury.

It’s a circle.

It’s A CiRcLE.

WHY IS IT A CIRCLE.

IT SHOULNT BE A CIRCLE-

In conclusion; Paul Bitchywood is a fucker and a Tory and I don’t put stock in god but by whatever powers may be I hope hell exists because this fool is running a marathon to it’s center.

#gbbo #s’mores #gbbo s’mores #paul hollywood

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holylulusworld · 6 months

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Dinner for one (1)

Summary: You eat alone. You like it that way. Someone disturbs your dinner.

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, pushy Bucky, a hint of fluff, mentions of dead relatives, cheating ex-boyfriend

Dinner for … masterlist

“A table for one?” The hostess looks you up and down. It’s not the first time you have dined at the fancy restaurant. Every once in a while you treat yourself and go out to have dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant.

“For two,” you splutter and curse yourself for it. “I mean…uh…I brought a friend.” You drop your gaze and take a deep breath. “I meant that I brought my stuffy. Is it okay that he’ll sit with me?”

The hostess eyes you up and down. You can see the wheels in her head spinning. “That’s a little odd, don’t you think?”

You expected her to act like that. “Did you know that in Japan there is a restaurant trying to make dining alone less awkward? They seat patrons with giant stuffed animals if they are alone. I had the opportunity to see it myself.”

She blanches at your response. “Japan? You’ve been to Japan?”

“Yeah, I had the chance to live there for a while. My boyf—” You bite your tongue and shake your head. “I accompanied someone. He wanted to start anew in a foreign land.”

“Cool,” she looks around the restaurant, searching for a table for two. “I can give you the one in the corner. It’s not the best table, and usually taken by a regular. But he won’t come this week. He canceled his usual reservation.”

“That would be very kind of you,” you wring your hands as she guides you toward the table. “I’ll be right back with my…uh…”

“It’s fine,” she says. “I’ll reserve the table for you. You can order in a minute.” You nod and walk back outside to get your fluffy friend.

While you are busy unlocking your car, the hostess talks to the waiter. “Please don’t ask questions and try not to stare. The guest will bring her plushie to keep her company.”

“A plushie?” The waiter furrows his brows. “Oh, like in Japan! I saw something about it on the internet the other day.

“Well, she’s a regular and lonely. For almost a year she has come here every few months to dine alone. She always looks sad. Let’s help her have a great evening.”

“I’d like to have the chicken parmesan, and for dessert, I’ll take the tiramisu.” You close the menu and give the waiter a shy smile.

“Do you want wine for your chicken parmesan?” The waiter asks. He doesn’t look at the huge bear you placed on the free chair at your table, only at you. “Miss?”

“Can I have apple spritzer?” You shyly glance up at the waiter.

“Of course, miss,” he nods and gives you a soft smile. “I’ll get you an apple spritzer. Your food will be ready soon.”

“Hmm…that smells great,” you inhale the scent of your food deeply. “What do you say, big bear? Do you think this is a nice restaurant?” You look at your bear, giggling as it stares back at you with its plastic eyes.

You take the first bite, moaning at the taste. Chicken parmesan always had a special place in your heart. Or rather your stomach. “So good, big bear. I wish you could have a taste too.”

“What do you mean my table is taken?” A grumpy man wildly gestures toward you and your bear. “There is my table, and it’s occupied by some woman with a teddy bear? Are you out of your mind?”

“Sir, Mr. Barnes. We are sorry. Your secretary called and canceled the reservation,” the hostage tries not to lose her composure at the man’s rude behavior. “We can offer you a table for one right over there.” She points toward a spare table.

“Do I look like some lonely loser eating alone?” He cocks his head to glance your way again. “I want my table, and I want it now. Let her sit at the table for one.”

“She has company, Sir,” the hostess tries to stop the man from storming toward your table. He stops right in front of your table, glaring at your bear.

“That’s a teddy bear,” he sneers and dares to poke your bear with his index finger. “Is this some crazy kink?” He looks at you, expectantly. “Lady?”

“I-I,” you stammer. This man angrily stares at you, and you are too scared to answer him. “I…try to eat, Sir.”

“Cat got your tongue?” He cocks his head to look at your food. “I need you to sit at the table for one. I’m waiting for someone…” He sighs as you keep on shoving food in your mouth to avoid talking to him.

“Sir, she’s having dinner. We can have the other table ready for you in a minute.” The hostess tries to get the man to leave you alone. “Please. She only wants to eat in silence.”

“With a bear,” he points out. “Fine, if she won’t sit at the other table, I’ll sit with her.”

“What?” You sniffle as the man tries to take the bear off the chair. “Hey! Don’t touch big bear! Please just leave me alone!” Your lips wobble and tears well up to your eyes. “It’s my birthday and you are ruining it!”

He puts the bear back down and wrinkles his forehead. “Why are you dining alone on your birthday, only a bear by your side.”

You shrug. “I got no one who wants to celebrate with me. My parents are dead, and my boyfriend found someone better and prettier in Japan. I had to start anew and didn’t find friends in this town so far.”

“You’re all alone on your birthday?” His features soften and his shoulders relax. “Hmm…” He looks at the bear on his chair again. “How about we eat together? I’m hungry, and you are alone.”

“I got my bear,” you insist. This man is too pushy and grumpy for your liking. You don’t want to eat with him, nor share your table. “Why don’t you sit at the table for one?”

“I-“ he licks his lips. “I don’t want to eat alone. My date stood me up and…uh…eating alone is…it sucks.”

You look at the man. He holds out his hand, telling you his name as you shyly glance at his offered hand. “I’m James…or Bucky. Uh-you can call me Bucky.”

“Y/N,” you murmur and shake his offered hand. “And that’s big bear. He…”

“He helped you through hard times,” Bucky offers. “Can I sit at your table? Is that alright with you?”

“Uh-sure,” you hold out your hand for your bear. “I can put it in my car and come back.”

Bucky shakes his head. He calls for the hostess and asks for a table for three or more. He grabs the bear and holds out his hand for you. “We can eat at the table over there and your bear can sit with us.”

“What…you,” you sniff. “You want the bear to sit with us?”

“Why not?” He shrugs. “He’s your friend and helped you through hard times. I get it. I have a good friend too. Steve.” Bucky smiles now. “My friend helped me through hard times too.”

You watch him take off his glove to reveal a metal hand. “Oh.” You say and carefully touch it. “I didn’t know.”

“Please have dinner with me,” he asks again. “I know I’m a little loud and grumpy, but I didn’t want to ruin your birthday too.”

You look at your bear tugged under Bucky’s arm. “Okay…” You breathe. "If you want to waste your time on me."

"Doll," he softly says, "spending the evening with you is not a waste of time."

Bucky and you will talk for hours, and enjoy your food.

He tells you about his friend Steve, and you talk about Japan, your ex-boyfriend, and how you got big bear.

When you finally part ways, you promise each other to meet at the restaurant again to spend every Friday evening dining together...

Part two: Dinner for two

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #angst #au!bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic

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capseycartwright · 2 months

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just kiss me slowly

tommy does this thing, when he kisses buck. to quote myself, i underestimated your rizz, tommy kinard. the two finger chin pull has been playing on my mind since the episode aired, and this pointless bit of fluff was born. buck and tommy are running circles in my head.

ao3 link

Tommy does this thing, when he kisses Buck. Buck has kissed Tommy enough times in the past couple of weeks to know its a thing, and not just a fluke. He hasn't kissed Tommy enough that he's lost count (27 kisses - he's been counting because it still doesn't feel real, and every time he can add another kiss to the growing list of moments he lets himself linger in as he lies in bed at night, or sits in traffic on the way to work, is another reminder that this is real: that Tommy is real) but he's beginning to learn more about the way Tommy kisses, has begun to map the surface of Tommy's lips with his tongue.

He knows its a thing, is the point.

The first time Tommy had kissed him, he'd tugged Buck closer, two fingers pulling on Buck's chin as he'd pressed that chaste first kiss to Buck's lips. Buck had assumed that had been a heat of the moment sort of thing, Tommy tugging Buck closer so he could get his point across, but then it had happened again.

Tommy had come to pick Buck up, for their date. "Old fashioned," Buck had teased. Tommy had simply rolled his eyes in response, catching Buck's chin between his thumb and forefinger, pressing a brief kiss to Buck's surprised lips. "I didn't want to wait until after dinner to kiss you again," he had said, by way of explanation, and Buck had been in a haze the whole drive to the Italian place Tommy had suggested they grab dinner at. No one - no one had ever kissed him like that, pulling Buck closer with a gentle grasp, as though they didn't want to give him a chance to turn his head away.

Tommy liked to kiss Buck. Buck was learning that too. It was all so new for him, but Tommy was confident, a reassuring presence to - quite literally - lean on as he navigated his newfound bisexuality. Tommy had been thirty-one when he'd come out, he'd explained to Buck - so he understood. Understood why Buck had played their dinner off as a friendly thing, understood why Buck hadn't told Eddie yet, understood why Buck hadn't told anyone, yet, only his sister, and Hen. Understood why Buck was more at ease here, in the warmth of Tommy's apartment, than he was at a bar - for now, at least. Buck wasn't ashamed, he was just learning how to lean into this new part of himself.

Buck couldn't help but flush as he remembered the genuine look of pride on Tommy's face when he'd leaned into the other man's space that afternoon at the farmers market, listening intently as Tommy explained the benefits of using a certain kind of tomato to make pasta sauce - the way his mother had taught him to, growing up in New York. Buck had leaned against Tommy, enjoying the way colour rose in Tommy's cheeks as he'd done so.

He'd earned a reward for it too, Tommy using two gentle fingers to redirect Buck's face toward his own as they'd loaded the groceries in the trunk of Buck's jeep, pressing a brief kiss to Buck's waiting lips.

That was the thing, Tommy did - he touched Buck so gently, always redirecting Buck's mouth to exactly where he wanted it to be, and it made Buck melt right down into his sneakers. He'd - he'd just never had someone kiss him so reverently, before.

"If you think any harder, you'll give yourself a headache," Tommy murmured, glancing up from the sauce he was stirring. This version of Tommy was new to Buck - the version of Tommy in his own apartment, relaxed, shoes kicked off by the door, an unfamiliar jazz album playing over the record player in the living room - because of course Tommy had an actual fucking record player. Buck liked this version of Tommy. He was realising he liked all versions of Tommy, actually.

Buck could tell him. He could tell Tommy that the way he grabbed Buck so gently by the chin so often when he was going in for a kiss made his insides turn to goo. He could tell Tommy how good it felt to have someone want him like that, want to initiate kisses. He could tell Tommy that he had spent years of his life chasing other people's lips, desperate for the affection Tommy was already so freely offering him, a mere three and a half weeks into dating.

He could tell him all that, and Tommy probably wouldn't mind - but Buck wanted to keep the thought to himself, a little while longer. This thing with Tommy was so new, and it was good, but it still felt delicate, and Buck didn't want Tommy to stop the way he kissed Buck.

"I'm admiring you hard at work," Buck tilted his head slightly. It was still strange, to hear himself flirt so openly with another man, but he was getting used to it. He had to, really, when Tommy always responded to his flirting with a delighted grin, or laugh.

Tonight, Buck got both.

"C'mere," Tommy murmured, hand gentle on Buck's face as he caught Buck's chin between his thumb and forefinger, pressing a lingering kiss (28) and then a second (29) to Buck's mouth. "Just wait until you try the sauce. Then you're really going to want to kiss you."

As if Buck didn't spend every second of every day fantasising about kissing Tommy, like he was a horny teenage boy again. "Promises, promises."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Make yourself useful and set the table," he pretended to order, but he wasn't moving, nose brushing against Buck's. He kissed him again (30) and then kissed the corner of Buck's mouth, right where Buck's grin was splitting his face in two, his delight so overwhelming he couldn't contain it.

Buck leaned into the embrace, cheek scruffy where he pressed it against the palm of Tommy's hand. "I'm glad we're doing this," he admitted. Kissing, dinner - dating. All of the above. Tommy could decide which one Buck had meant.

Tommy's grin was liquid fucking gold. "Me too, Evan."

#911 on abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #theres no plot just kissin

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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months

Text

ILLICIT TEMPTATION

A/N: italyrry is back in action and so am i.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: A business trip to Italy brings more than just professional success. One hot afternoon, deliciously cold water and a series of unfortunate events bring out the illicit temptation you both have been fighting.

PART II. TO ILLICIT THOUGHTS

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry Styles will take any opportunity to travel to Italy. Vacation, just a layover, family gathering, he is always open to visit the country he almost considers his second home.

This time, he is on an active quest to expand his business, he’s been negotiating with some possible Italian partners for months now and they seem to be heading towards the finish line. To officiate the deal Harry has headed over to Bolsena, a wonderful town that resides on the coast of Lago di Bolsena, a lake of volcanic origin. And though he usually travels alone when it comes to business, this time he is accompanied by you.

The trip is set to last four days, most of it spent with the Trevisani brothers who are looking forward to do business with Harry in the future. The first two days have been hectic, brunch with Fabio and Vittore, meetings, lunch at some luxury restaurant’s terrace, even more meetings, then business dinner and it all started again the next day.

But today is finally the first day you get to have some free time. Though the first half of the day was still filled with business, now it’s after lunch time and you finally get to go to the beach you’ve been eyeing from your hotel room’s balcony since you’ve arrived.

You agreed with Harry to meet down there, because he had to take a quick call, so you’re the first one to reach the sandy beach with your beach towel under your arm and the bikini you bought especially for this trip under your sundress. In your left there’s a rockier section and it appears to be less crowded so you opt to occupy a spot there. You put down your towel and then take off your dress, enjoying the warm breeze on your skin as you get rid of your slippers and head over to the water.

It’s so refreshing, your muscles relax the moment you sink into the water so it’s up to your chin and then you dip under the surface fully. You wish you could just float around here for the rest of the trip.

A few feet away from where you left your things there’s a rock that reaches over the water, like a natural jumping board. A group of teenagers are jumping into the water, doing flips in the air, the glistening water splashing everywhere once they fall into the lake.

You’re not that big of an adrenaline junkie, but it seems like a lot of fun, so you decide to give it a try and go for a jump. Swimming over you get out of the water and follow their route over a rocky part to arrive to the jumping spot. For a while, you stop at the back, just watching them jump in one after the other before moving closer to the edge, but there’s still enough place that they can keep jumping in while you stand there, collecting your courage.

Right before you’re about to finally take the leap you look around, as if your sixth sense had been activated and when you glance over to your towel you spot Harry.

And it all goes downhill from there.

Harry looks mouthwateringly good on an average day in the office when his body is covered from neck to toe. It’s hard even then to keep your thoughts at check, but what you’re seeing right now can only be described as a violent act against females.

Add the salty air of Italy to the equation, a slight, delicious tan over his inked body that’s usually covered by his designer clothes, a chunky, luxurious pair of sunglasses and… the absolute shortest swimming trunks you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but it’s so low on his hips as he is adjusting the waistband that his V-line could be seen from even across the lake, it’s so delicious, any sane woman would lose their mind over it, then there are those chiseled abs, his bulging pecks and the unruly curls on top of his head…

It makes you lose more than just your mind. Literally.

Because when Harry looks up and he smiles your way you lose your balance and fall right into the water in a way that’s most likely anything but gracious or sexy.

The water closes above you and there’s a moment of shock, but you recover quickly, swimming upwards until your head is above the surface again.

“Fuck,” you cough, kicking underneath the water to keep you floating and you squint your eyes before opening them, but maybe you should have just kept them closed, because the next thing you see is Harry swimming towards you.

“Hey, you alright?” he reaches you and you feel his hand wrap around your upper arm to help you keep you up and his touch sends a wave of shock down your spine instantly.

“Y-yeah,” you breathe out and then you make another mistake.

It’s hard to keep yourself floating when your heart is hammering in your chest and your nervous system is all messed up from the sight you just saw moments ago. Your hands move before you could even think twice and you find yourself holding onto his broad shoulders.

The feeling of his soft, warm skin under your touch and the hard muscles underneath waves goodbye to the last bit of your sanity.

“S-sorry,” you gasp, pulling your hands back fast, but it makes you dip under the water again, so Harry reaches for you and pulls you up, curling an arm around your waist and your body goes into full shock when you feel yourself pushed up against you in the cold water, your hands coming to rest on the base of his neck as he keeps you both up.

“Please don’t drown on a business trip, that wouldn’t look too good,” he jokes and you manage to get a laugh out, but it sounds suffocated, because it feels impossible to fill your lungs when your smoking hot boss’ body is melted against yours in the water.

“Okay,” you breathe out, looking into his eyes that are covered by his sunglasses, so you can’t tell where he is looking.

That’s his luck. Because right in this moment, Harry can’t decide if he wants to stare at your wet lips, your tits pressed against his chest or your widened eyes, framed with long eyelashes glued together because of the water dripping from them.

So his gaze keeps moving between these three things behind the cover of his shades.

“Let’s move to a more shallow part,” he suggests, but he has ulterior motives.

It’s not that he wants to let go of you, hell no! He would do anything to keep you pressed up against him for hours and he even thinks about having your legs wrapped around his waist and that’s exactly that causes the problem, because he can feel himself getting hard and the last thing he needs is for you to discover his erection.

You nod and let go of him, putting some safe distance between the two of you and Harry lets you swim ahead towards the shore. He is raking his head for anything that could help him regain control over his rather hard situation. Slowly, but he finally succeeds and he can feel himself calming down just as you reach a more shallow part. You both stand and emerge from the water and Harry catches a glimpse of your bikini clad body, the crystal clear water is dripping from your curves and in a split second, he is hardening again.

He is just about to drop back into the water to hide his erection when you step on a rock and lose your balance, falling backwards, straight into Harry’s arm.

You gasp as his arms lock around your waist, keeping you from falling into the water ant potentially hurting yourself, but this also means that your ass is now pressed against his crotch… which means that his hard cock is now wedged comfortable between your ass cheeks.

For a moment Harry is sure whoever is up above, they are playing a cruel game with him. Because seeing you in a bikini was already a burning temptation, then having you in his arms in the water and those illicit thoughts invading his mind about how it would feel to have your legs around his waist was pure torture, but this… this is something he will surely think about in the evening when he’s alone in his hotel room, his hand wrapped around his leaking cock…

He considers the chances of you not realizing his dick is pressed against your ass, but judging from the way your body has stiffened, there’s no way you didn’t notice.

You definitely did. You feel every inch of him, you feel how thick and rock hard he is and you think about how it would feel like if he was inside you right now.

Harry clears his throat behind you, his arms still around your waist.

“Are you alright?” he asks and his mouth is right next to your ear, his hot breath is tickling your neck and goosebumps cover your skin from head to toe.

Your voice is gone, all you can do is nod, but you’re still not moving.

“Y/N?” he speaks up again.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna let you go now.”

And let’s not talk about how my cock just sat between your ask cheeks for a whole minute, he adds mentally.

You nod and put your weight back onto your feet as you pull away from Harry, his arms fall from around you and he moves back quickly a few feet so the water reaches above his hip, covering the bulge in his shorts.

“I-I think I’m gonna… head back to my room,” you stutter, only daring to look at him for a split second.

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna take a nap,” you add and Harry nods.

“See you before dinner. Fabio wants to take us out for drinks after,” he reminds you.

“Great. S-see you later,” you clear your throat and rush out of the water as fast as you can without tripping again.

You gather your stuff and head to the stairs that lead up to the hotel, but allow yourself one last glance back. In the water, you spot Harry swimming further in the lake and the feeling of his erection pressed up against you invades your mind again, making you run up the stairs, taking two steps at once and you don’t stop until you’re locked up in your hotel room. Your bikini is still dripping wet, but between your legs it’s not just because of the swimming.

You strip and then stand under the massive walk-in shower, cold water running down you as you lean against the tiled wall, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened, but it’s impossible and the next thing you know is that you have two fingers buried inside your pussy and you’re chanting Harry’s name as you chase your release.

Fuck, you think when you’ve come, tonight will be your personal Hell.

READ PART III. NOW: ILLICIT ACTS

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

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wynnyfryd · 7 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 21

part 1 | part 20 | ao3

“Right?” Steve asks, scratching his head as he glances back at the door.

“No, I meant you, dingus! What the fuck was that with you?”

Steve feels his face go hot. “What? What do you mean?”

She throws her hands in the air, stomping over so she can get in his face and say, “Don’t ‘what do you mean’ me. Your faces” —she lifts her hands like she’s about to applaud, palms hovering an inch apart— “were like thiiis close to just…”

She claps them together, and Steve feels the blood drain right back out of his face, dread pooling in his gut as she twists her palms this way and that, like two people tilting their heads to kiss deeper. Oh, god. Oh, god. Were they—?

“Mwah,” Robin says helpfully, mashing her hands more tightly together. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah—”

Steve grabs her by the wrist. “Dude. Stop.”

She drops her hands and stares at him — one of those Detective Buckley looks, combing over every inch of his soul for missed clues — and then her mouth does some horribly self-satisfied thing that he hates. “If I didn’t know any better,” she draws, “I’d say someone has a crush.”

I’d say someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a

Steve’s gonna pass out. The words feel like bile in his brain, acidic and sharp; like puking right after chugging a glass of orange juice. It’s not like he’s—

Look, he knows that he’s— but—

The bell dings. Thank fucking Christ. A big family group, three generations of people talking and laughing and fussing over a baby in a stroller and carrying leftovers from the Italian place down the strip.

Steve sags in relief.

Robin hisses in his ear, “We are so not done talking about this.”

—

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

About Eddie, about the word Robin lobbed at him like a lit bottle rocket, about any of it.

Just thinking about it is giving him a stomach ulcer and a migraine and maybe an aneurysm, too.

He was hoping he made that obvious enough during the last hour of their shift that Robin would just drop it, but that girl has never dropped a single thing in her life. Worse than Nancy, the little bloodhound. Steve saw this documentary once about crocodiles; remembers how they can lock their jaws shut after clamping down on their prey with up to 4000 PSI of pressure.

That’s enough pressure to cut a person’s arm off with a jet of water.

Damn, nature’s cool.

“Steve!”

You know who’s not cool?

“Steve!” Robin hollers again over the song he’s currently blasting to drown her out on the drive home. “Steve, you can’t use ABBA against me like this!”

Steve ignores her protests, responds by shout-singing “DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN, OOH OOOOOH” at her in his most nasal falsetto because he absolutely can and will use ABBA against her like this, and it works like a charm. He’s pretty sure this song has, like, hypnotic power over her or something, because every time without fail she gives the answering “ooh-oo-oo-ooh-ooh-oooooh” as if on auto-pilot.

“HEY!” she shouts when she realizes what she’s doing. “No sir!” She reaches over and mashes the volume button.

Silence falls over the car. Sucks the air out of Steve’s lungs in the sudden void; his ears adjust slowly, picking up the quiet thrum of the engine, the whispered whoosh of the wind outside. Is he ever going to get used to being kind-of-sort-of-deaf? This shit sucks.

“...Okay, look,” Robin says tentatively. She’s staring at the side of his head, and he keeps his eyes on the road; tightens his grip on the wheel. “We don’t have to talk about you, okay?”

“There’s nothing to talk about with me.”

“Right!” she rushes to agree. Playing along like they don’t both know that’s bullshit. “Totally.”

Steve risks a glance at her. Her expression is earnest, some full-paragraph silent communication like: whatever bathroom-floor-confessional crisis you’re having, we can leave it alone for now. We can let it stay hidden in the dark corners for a little longer; I promise I’ll put my flashlight down.

“Totally,” Steve echoes, nodding at her.

“Okay. Cool. Cool…”

She lets out a long breath, cheeks puffing out as she sits on her hands. Oh, my god, just spit it out. “Can we please talk about him, though?”

—

part 22

tag list pt. 1 below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow (heads up i'm not tagging any new under 21 or ageless blogs unless we’re mutuals or you dm me to verify your age. gonna purge this list when i get some free time)

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #robin buckley #platonic stobin

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Playing Favourites II

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: You know how to get what you want

Leah kidnaps you again.

Now that she's nearly back from her big knee ouchy she's been driving up to see you lots and more often than not she takes you home with her.

Her teammates are at her house a lot too so you learn how to give them puppy eyes to get what you want.

The most susceptible to this is Alessia.

You're warmed up to her and, when you spot her at the little dinner Leah's brought you to at your favourite Lia's house, you immediately bolt to her.

"Lessi!"

"Bean!"

She lifts you into the air, throwing you up for a moment before catching you again.

"Alessia!" Leah cries from the doorway where she stands with Jen and Kim. "Be careful with her!"

"Lessi's careful!" You insist even though Alessia's put you back down and is hurrying you into the kitchen.

Laura and Vic are standing there, staring at a bowl of pizza dough half in awe, half in confusion.

Lessi drags a chair with her to the countertop and helps you stand on it.

"Alright, bean," She says, forcing a lump of dough into a circle," What do you want on top?"

"Er..." You look over the different options. "This one. This one...And this one!"

"You better not be overfeeding her, Lessi," Leah interrupts as she wanders over," I've got to put her to bed tonight."

"My Nonna always says that the best way to sleep is with a belly of warm food."

"Food, Leah! We're making pizza!" You look so unbelievably excited to have pizza that wasn't from the freezer that Leah can't help but sigh.

"Not too much, bean," She says, dragging a finger over your cheek as you sprinkle more cheese over your pizza," You could get a tummy ache."

You give her an unimpressed look. "We're making pizza, Leah. Don't need to think about my tummy."

Leah shoots a flabbergasted look at Alessia, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You're turning her Italian! I think I preferred it when you two didn't get along!"

"Mummy says just because you don't have friends doesn't mean that I can't," You say, turning back to your pizza and letting Vic help roll up your sleeves.

"Bean!"

You end up with your whole pizza as you sit snug between the better Lia and your Leah. You slap at your sister's fingers and bare your teeth when she tries to grab one of your slices.

"Can I have one, bean?" Lia asks and you stick your tongue out at your Leah and pass one to Lia. "Thank you."

"That's not fair!" Leah complains as you push her away again.

When she reaches for you for the third time you clamber away to Lia's other side and squish between her and Kyra.

Kyra smiles at you and drapes part of the blanket she's using over your legs.

"So, bean," Jen says from across the room," Are you excited to be a mascot tomorrow? Do you know who you're going to walk out with?"

"Er...Don't know."

"You'll need to make a decision soon," Leah reminds you," So I can put you in the right jersey tomorrow."

You still make a noncommittal noise as you survey the assembled girls. You tug at Kyra's shirt.

"If you give me chocolate, then I'll walk with you."

"Oh! Whoa! Wait a minute!" Beth interrupts before Kyra can agree. "I can get you a bigger chocolate bar than Kyra."

You shrug. "I guess I can walk with you."

"A chocolate bar and a milkshake," Katie says, holding her hand up," I think that's a better offer."

The other girls start shouting their own bribes and Leah looks at you with disbelief. You're lapping up the attention, flitting between each girl as they promise you grander and grander things in return for just walking out on the pitch with them.

By the time that the match has circled around and you're dressed up in your Arsenal shirt, it's Lessi who has won with the promise of a chocolate fountain and a whole Happy Meal after the game.

As Leah watches you walk out and glances back at the chocolate fountain waiting to be put in her car, she kind of wishes that you hadn't come out of your shell around Alessia and just stuck to someone like Viv or Lia, who knew not to make such outlandish promises to you.

But, whatever she's promised you, you look especially happy to walk out with Lessi and scamper over to Leah as soon as the game begins, arms raised for her to pick you up and bundle you in a blanket.

Your happy mood dampens quickly though when the girls can't seem to get it together and go one-nil down in the first fifteen minutes. They manage to just about keep another goal out but it's clearly a struggle.

"Hey, Laura," Leah says as soon as the team heads back to the locker room in shame," Do you mind taking the bean to get some snacks?"

You look at her suspiciously. "You don't let me get snacks."

"I don't let you eat chocolate either, bean." Leah ruffles your hair," But somehow you've fine angled your way into a chocolate fountain. Quit while you're ahead." She waves a wad of cash in front of you and you snatch it out of her hand and grab Laura.

While you're both gone, she hurries off to the changing room, slamming the door open. "Get your heads in the fucking game! The bean's in the crowd and I will be damned if you lose in front of her!"

"It's not that easy," Katie scoffs," None of us expected them to put all of their effort in attack."

"Are you professionals or not?!" Leah demands, throwing her hands up in the air in anger," Look, it'll be embarrassing enough losing like this but do you want to make the bean upset? She'll cry. She'll definitely start crying and then she'll tell Mum and Mum will never let us see her again. Is that what you want? To not see the bean again?"

"We get it," Beth grumbles," We'll get it together. You don't need to guilt trip us with your baby sister."

"Good." Leah points her finger at each of them in warning before heading back out to the box again.

You've got a hot dog in your hand and you're sipping at a fizzy drink when she gets back. You smile. "Did you tell them that I'll cry?" You ask.

Leah ruffles your hair. "Make sure you do if they lose."

"Okay," You reply, taking another bite of your hot dog," Do I get a McFlurry at Maccies if I do?"

"You can extort everybody but me," Leah reminds you," Don't forget who taught you to do that."

You look a bit annoyed at that but just moodily take a bite of your hotdog instead of arguing.

As it turns out, you don't really need the waterworks because the girls pull it out with a healthy 2-1 win and you make your way down onto the pitch riding on Leah's shoulders.

"Look at that!" Katie says in triumph as she approaches," Just needed a good old Williamson talk and we were golden."

Leah rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Let's not make that a habit."

"We might need the bean at every match," Jen says, helping you down from your sister's shoulders so you can run off to Alessia and Kyra.

"Ha! Good luck explaining to my Mum where her youngest has run off too."

Katie grins. "I can be very charming."

Leah rolls her eyes again. "Maybe don't use that line with my parents."

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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mariclerc · 1 month

Text

Dad duties (pt.2) | cl16

Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, single dad Charles, a bunch of kisses and pure fluff... And a somewhat kinda spicy surprise near the end + shy Charles at the end too.

a/n: this is a little too long, but I hope you like it. Let me know if you want another part of this!!

Part 1 Part 3

taglist 🤍 @mehrmonga @barcelonaloverf1life @sillyfreakfanparty

You find yourself waiting on the porch of your house, Charles had told you that he was going to be a little late since he was fixing some things with Ava, tonight is finally the famous date that you both had promised. The last few weeks have probably been the most fantastic of your life, the company of Charles and his little Ava make your days happier and brighter and that made you happy. You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn't realize that Charles was pulling up in front of your house, a smile already on your face.

“Hey y/n! You look incredible, so pretty, oh my...” He says as he gets out of the car, you were wearing a flattering dress, a little more dressed up than usual for your date night, you laugh slightly.

“Hey you handsome! Ready for our fancy dinner?” you say with a smile.

He smiles apologetically. “Uh... About that, there might be a slight change of plans.”

You both walk towards the car and he, like a gentleman, opens the passenger door for you, to which you thank him with a smile. You follow his gaze to the back seat, there, in a bright pink dress with white polka dots, sits Ava she beams at you, clutching a stuffed bunny, she giggles.

Your heart just melts, you weren't expecting Ava, but you can't help but smile even wider. “Hi there little princess! You look beautiful tonight!” You say happily.

Ava beams while Charles sighs apologetically. “Look, I'm so sorry babe. I couldn't find a babysitter on such a short notice and I was hoping maybe we could reschedule the dinner, but...” He was practically babbling, you cut him off.

You reach into the back and scoop Ava into your arms, tickling her belly. She erupts in delighted giggles.

“Charles, it's perfectly fine! Honestly, the more the merrier, don't you think? Besides who could say no to this cute little princess?”

Ava reaches out and tugs on your hair playfully. “Pwincess!” she giggled again and you nodded.

Charles looks surprised and relieved at your words. “You... You really don't mind babe?”

You glance at Charles, his eyes filled with warmth. “I don't mind at all darling! So... Where are we taking our little princess for dinner?” you asked softly while looking at him.

Charles throws his head back and smiled. “There's this great Italian place that has a fantastic kids' menu. Ava loves their pasta.”

You settle Ava back into her car seat, buckling her in. “Sounds perfect, Italian it is! Maybe she'll share some of her pasta with us?”

Charles leans over and gives you a quick kiss, you blush slightly. “Maybe... But you're definitely getting your own plate. This might be a date night with a little one in tow, but I still want to spoil you.” he winks at you.

“Just having you here is spoiling me enough.” you whisper softly. “Now, let's go get our little princess some dinner, I bet she's starving.”

You smile as Charles starts the car, his smile brighter than the restaurant lights ahead. You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you, this might not be exactly the date night you envisioned, but it's already shaping up to be something even better.

***

When you arrive at the restaurant the hostess leads Charles and you to a booth big enough for three with a high chair for Ava. The restaurant is super elegant, with soft music playing in the background.

Charles speaks smiling to Ava. “Alright, little one, what kind of pasta are you feeling tonight? They have farfalle shaped like butterflies, or penne that look like little tubes...”

Ava points excitedly at a picture on the kid's menu. “Bunny!” she giggles.

You and Charles look at the picture, then at each other and burst out laughing. “Looks like it's bunny pasta for the princess, I bet it's delicious!” You say with a smile on your face.

The waiter arrives, a friendly man with a neatly trimmed beard, Charles orders a glass of wine for you and a apple juice box for Ava, he also orders the bunny pasta for Ava, requesting it with a side of steamed vegetables. You order a light pasta dish and Charles gets something heartier. The conversation flows easily, sprinkled with stories about Ava's day and Charles' latest win on the track. You steal a glance at him while he chats whit Ava, noticing how his eyes crinkle when he smiles at his daughter.

“You're such a good dad, you know.” you say whispering.

Charles catches your eye and gives you a warm smile. “Thank you mon ange. Being a good dad is easy when you have a princess like her.” he whispers. (my angel)

While you wait for your food, you take out a small pack of crayons and a coloring book you brought from home. “Hey, Ava, want to color some pictures with me? See, this one has a cute bunny and another animals!”

Ava nods eagerly and starts coloring with delight. You watch her for a moment, then turn to Charles and you smile. “She's so much fun. I can't believe it's only been a few weeks...” you whisper softly.

Charles reaches across the table and takes your hand. “Me neither, you are amazing with her! You're even amazing to me.”

Just then, the waiter arrives with your food and drinks. You turn your attention to Ava, making sure she eats some vegetables before digging into the pasta.

The night continues like this - a delightful mix of conversation, laughter, a little spilled food, and genuine connection. While you might not have had the quiet, romantic dinner you initially planned, you find yourself enjoying this even more. It feels like the start of something special, a family you're slowly becoming a part of.

***

As the plates are cleared and Ava starts to get drowsy, Charles leans back in the booth.

“Looks like our little adventurer is ready for bed. What do you say we call it a night?” He says smiling as he holds Ava in his arms.

You nodded. “Looks like little miss enjoyed her bunny pasta a little too much, don't you think? We might be in for a long night... I can help put her to bed when we get home, I don't mind.” You say with a shy little smile.

Charles smiles, a hint of tiredness in his eyes. “Any help would be appreciated, you're a lifesaver, you know that?” he asked softly and you nod.

He throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

“So, how about we head straight home? Maybe we can watch a movie after Ava's asleep, just the two of us? How does that sound?” He asks you softly, the way his eyes hold yours makes the butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You smile once again. “Sounds like a perfect plan for me... Lead the way, papa.”

You two have a funny little argument about who pays the bill, but in the end he paid like a gentleman, and together you head out of the restaurant. The night air feels cooler now, but your heart is warm, as you walk side-by-side, Charles steals a kiss, quick and sweet, making butterflies explode in your stomach. You know this might be the beginning of something truly special, a messy, wonderful adventure with a charming single dad and his adorable daughter.

The car ride is filled with the soft snores of a sleeping Ava nestled in her car seat. Charles reaches over and squeezes your hand, a silent thank you for your help throughout the evening.

Pulling into his driveway, Charles helps you unbuckle Ava and carefully carries her inside. The house is quiet, bathed in a soft glow from a lamp left on in the living room, the white walls aren't so white anymore due to some colorful scratches on Ava's part, but it gives the place personality. Charles leads the way to Ava's room, a haven of pastel colors and stuffed animals.

“Alright, little one, it's bedtime. Let's get you out of those clothes, okay?” he whispers softly towards Ava.

He lays Ava gently on the changing table. You reach into the diaper bag that he had brought to dinner and pull out a pair of soft, pink pajamas with a fluffy bunny on the front.

You smile softly. “Looks like someone's favorite animal is making another appearance tonight.”

Charles chuckles, taking the pajamas from you. He expertly removes Ava's dress, careful not to wake her. You watch him with a lot of love and affection in your eyes, a comfortable silence settling around you both.

He started talking in a sing-along voice to Ava. “See, bunny pajamas for a sleepy bunny. Time for your warm snuggles, princess.” He slips the pajamas on Ava, who stirs slightly and lets out a contented sigh.

You help him to tuck Ava in. “She's so peaceful when she's asleep... You seem like a natural at this dad thing.”

Charles smiles, a touch of pride in his eyes. “Practice makes perfect, I guess. But having you here makes it a whole lot easier.” He leans in close, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Maybe after she's settled, we can have that movie night... just the two of us?” he whispers.

The air crackles with unspoken desire. You glance at Ava, a small smile playing on your lips. “Let's get her to sleep first, then we'll see. But don't expect a quiet night in. I might have some movie-related cuddles in mind.” you whisper back at him.

A slow grin spreads across Charles' face. He leans in and kisses you softly, the promise of more hanging in the air. Every time he kisses you it's like a dream, he is so sweet and delicate with you that it makes you sigh.

He smiles at you and whispers. “Sounds like a challenge I'm willing to accept.”

With a final goodnight kiss to Ava's forehead, you and Charles tiptoe out of the room, the quiet anticipation of a stolen moment hanging between you. Charles smiles at you, a silent thanks in his eyes. You return the smile, a pleasant tiredness settling over you.

“So... Movie night? Do you have any preferences?” he asks softly.

You shrug playfully and whisper. “Surprise me... Just something that doesn't require too much brainpower, I'm running in fumes after that mega dinner we had.” you let out a little giggle.

Charles chuckles and heads towards the living room and you follow him, collapsing onto the large couch with a contented sigh. He pops a movie into the DVD player, something light and comedic based on the box art.

The movie starts, and you snuggle up on the couch with a fluffy blanket, Charles sits beside you, leaving a comfortable gap initially. As the movie progresses, you find yourself drawn closer... You share a laugh at a funny scene, his arm brushing against yours, you don't shy away, instead leaning in slightly. He seems to mirror your movement, his warmth a comforting presence.

By the halfway point, you're practically cuddling, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear. The movie plays on in the background, but your focus has shifted.

Charles speak with a raspy and low voice. “You know, you're amazing with Ava. I don't know what I would have done tonight without you.”

You snuggle closer, a small smile playing on your lips. “She's a sweetheart! And besides, seeing you be a dad is pretty darn cute.” you whisper shyly.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “It's not always cute, you know? There are sleepless nights and mountains of undone laundry. But I swear, it's the most rewarding thing in the world.” He whispers as he looks at you sweetly.

A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment. Then, Charles takes a deep breath.

“Look, I know this might be crazy, but... it's late, and it's been a long day. Would you maybe consider staying the night? The guest room is all made up, and there's plenty of space on the couch if you'd prefer...” he says a little hesitant and even shy.

He trails off, waiting for your response. You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. His eyes are full of hope, a hint of nervousness lingering in their depths.

You smile, a genuine warmth spreading through you. “Actually Charles... There was something I was thinking too...” You lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Maybe instead of the guest room or the couch, we could cuddle up in your bed and watch the rest of the movie? Movie-related cuddles, remember?” you whisper softly.

A slow grin spreads across Charles' face. He pulls you in for a kiss, deeper and more passionate than before. The movie fades into the background, the only sound your laughter and the promise of a night spent closer than ever before.

***

The movie credits roll, the sound barely registering over the soft snores coming from the baby monitor on the coffee table. You stretch languidly, the warmth of the blanket and Charles' arm wrapped around you making it hard to move.

He smiles sheepishly at you. “Wow, I don't know how we lost track of the movie. So much for brainpower, right?”

You chuckle, your eyes meeting his. There's a spark there, an unspoken invitation. “Maybe the movie wasn't that interesting after all. But hey, at least the company was good.” you smile playfully. “Oh, take this honey!” he says shyly and then walks over to a drawer and pulls out a soft, grey t-shirt. “This is probably a little big, but it's comfy! You're welcome to use any time you want.” he whispers.

You take the shirt, the fabric warm from his touch. It smells faintly of laundry detergent and something uniquely Charles.

“This is perfect, thank you Charlie! I think I can manage in a big, comfy t-shirt.” you giggle and smile.

He smiles back, his eyes holding yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire, the night stretching before you full of possibilities. He reach out to take your hand. “Then come on. Let's get you settled in, and maybe we can find a different kind of movie to watch... one that doesn't require a screen.”

He pulls you gently towards the hallway, his hand warm and strong in yours. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The hallway light casts a warm glow as you follow Charles. His hand remains clasped in yours, a silent invitation. You can practically feel the electricity crackling between you.

Reaching his bedroom door, Charles hesitates for a moment, then turns to you with a shy smile.

“Just a warning, my room might be a little messy, Ava has a habit of leaving her toys everywhere... So an apology if you find a colored build block or a stuffed animal on the floor.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Don't worry, I can handle a little mess, especially if it means more cuddles.” you say shyly.

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound warm and genuine. He pushes the door open, revealing a room that's undeniably lived-in. Clothes are scattered over a chair, a colourful build block and a stuffed bear lies abandoned on the floor. But amidst the slight disorder, there's a sense of warmth, safety and comfort in his bedroom.

He waves an apologetically hand at the mess. “Like I said... It's a little bit messy, but the bed it's made, at least.”

The bed dominates the room, a large king-size covered in a duvet the color of the sea, It looks impossibly inviting. You can't help but smile at the thought of spending the night snuggled up in it with Charles.

You smile. “The bed looks perfect. Thanks for offering the guest room, though. This is much more... spacious.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully while grinning. “Spacious enough for warm cuddles, I hope?”

You blush slightly, but hold his gaze. “We'll see about that, Mr. Leclerc... Now, where's the bathroom? I think I might need to change before those cuddles begin.” you say teasingly.

He points you in the right direction, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Take your time love, I'll be waiting... patiently... Although, no promises on how long that patience will last.” he giggled a little bit.

You wink at him before disappearing into the bathroom, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. The night may not have gone according to plan, but it's turning into something far more special. The prospect of a night spent in Charles' bed cuddling, the promise of stolen kisses and whispered secrets, fills you with a happiness you haven't felt in a long time.

***

The bathroom door clicks shut behind you. You take a moment to splash some cool water on your face, trying to calm the nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Slipping on Charles' oversized t-shirt, you steal a glance in the mirror. It hangs loosely on your frame, the scent of his laundry detergent clinging to the fabric.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom. Charles is sprawled on the bed, the movie barely audible in the background. He glances up when you appear, a slow smile spreading across his face.

He smiles warmly at you. “Looking comfortable chérie. Ready for some more movie... or maybe something else?” (darling)

His eyes hold yours, the question hanging in the air. You walk towards the bed, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Let's see what kind of mood this movie sets first. Maybe it'll inspire some cuddling, don't you think?”

He pats the space beside him on the bed, the duvet invitingly warm. You crawl in next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne filling your senses. He pulls the duvet over both of you, the space between you suddenly feeling too large.

As the movie plays on, you settle into Charles' side, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You lose yourself in the quiet rhythm of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

The movie becomes a distant hum, the plot lines forgotten. You focus instead on the warmth radiating from Charles' body, the way his fingers gently brush against your arm. You steal a glance at him, his eyes already trained on you.

A slow smile spreads across your face. You lean in closer, your lips hovering a breath away from his. He closes the gap, the kiss soft and tender. It's a taste of what could be, a promise of something more.

You pull back, breathless.

“Maybe the movie can wait. How about we focus on some real-life entertainment?”

Charles chuckles, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Sounds like a much better plan. Besides, I doubt this movie has anything on what we can do right here.” he said coquettishly.

He pulls you closer, his kisses becoming more insistent, more passionate. You melt into his touch, every thought of the movie forgotten. The only thing that matters now is the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the promise of a night spent tangled in his arms.

The movie plays on in the background, a silent observer to the unfolding scene. But neither of you cares. You're lost in your own world, a world of stolen glances, whispered secrets, and a growing intimacy that promises something truly special. As the night deepens, the movie fades into a distant memory, replaced by the intoxicating reality of a connection blooming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

You and Charles are caught in a heated embrace, the movie forgotten on the screen. The only sound is your own ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of your hearts. Just as Charles dips his head for another kiss, a faint sound pierces the air.

It's a whimper, barely audible, but unmistakable through the baby monitor nestled on the nightstand. You both freeze, pulled back from the brink of passion by the tiny sound.

Charles reaches over and turns up the volume on the monitor. The whimpers become clearer, accompanied by a soft snuffling sound.

“Sounds like Ava might be waking up...” he frowns slightly.

Disappointment flickers across his face, a mirror of your own feelings. You both know it's time to pull back, the night taking a different turn than anticipated.

You let out a soft sigh. “Maybe we should check on her, poor thing might be having a bad dream.”

Charles nods, a hint of frustration battling with his concern for his daughter. He leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

He smiles apologetically. “Duty calls princess. Maybe we can pick this up where we left off later? After Ava's back to sleep, of course.”

You smile back, a touch of longing lingering in your eyes. “Of course darling, Ava comes first. But don't worry, I'm not going anywhere! Besides, a little mystery only adds to the fun, right?”

Charles lets out a soft laugh, the frustration melting away. He throws back the covers and gets out of bed, heading towards the door.

“You're right. Maybe this little detour will just make the reunion even sweeter. I'll be back soon babe.” he smiles.

He throws you a quick wink before disappearing down the hallway. You watch him go, a mix of disappointment and amusement swirling inside you. The night may not have gone exactly as planned, but the unexpected turn of events only adds to the growing connection you feel with Charles.

Settling back against the pillows, you pick up the remote and turn off the movie. The room falls silent, except for the faint hum of the baby monitor. You close your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. Maybe there's no need to rush things. After all, the best things in life often come when you least expect them.

***

You wait for Charles' return, the silence amplifying the soft hum of the baby monitor. Curiosity pulls you towards it, and you pick it up, placing the receiver near your ear. You hear the familiar sounds of Ava stirring in her sleep, little whimpers turning into soft murmurs.

Then, a gentle voice cuts through the static... It's Charles, his voice low and soothing as he speaks to his daughter.

“Hush little one, don't you cry, The moon is out, the stars are high. Close your eyes and drift away, Dreams of sunshine and flowers at play.” he sings softly through the monitor.

His voice washes over you, warm and comforting. You can picture him sitting on the edge of Ava's crib, rocking her gently as he sings. A pang of tenderness hits you, a glimpse into the protective and loving father Charles is. The whimpers gradually subside, replaced by the soft sounds of contented breathing. Charles speaks again, his voice barely a whisper.

“There you go, my little princess. Sleep tight, Daddy loves you so much.”

A lump forms in your throat. The tenderness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but eavesdrop a little longer, yearning to be a part of this sweet moment.

After a few more minutes of silence, the bedroom door creaks open and Charles peeks in. He sees you with the baby monitor in hand, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“She's sound asleep, seems like my singing skills did the trick after all.” he whispers and smiles at you.

You blush, caught eavesdropping. You put the monitor back on the nightstand. “Guilty as charged... Your singing voice is impressive, Mr. Leclerc. Although, I'm not sure Ava fully appreciates your operatic skills yet.” you whisper softly and smiled at him.

He lets out a playful chuckle, walking towards the bed. “Maybe not... But, hey! At least she's asleep now.” he giggled. “Now... Where were we?” he whispers.

He reaches for you, his hand brushing against yours. You feel a warmth spread through you, the disappointment from before melting away.

“I believe we were about to explore some real-life entertainment. But this time, maybe with a little less noise... After all, we don't want to wake the princess again, do we?” you smile playfully.

Charles' smile widens, his eyes flickering with desire. He pulls you back into his arms, the promise of a stolen moment hanging heavy in the air.

The night may have taken a detour, but with Ava safely asleep and the connection between you growing stronger, it seems like a new chapter is about to begin. The adventure may be messy, filled with unexpected turns, but the prospect of exploring it with Charles fills you with a mix of excitement and anticipation. As you settle back into his embrace, you can't help but wonder where this unexpected journey will lead you both.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, intimate light on the scene as Charles pulls you back into his embrace. His touch is gentle yet insistent, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and desire.

He smiles and whispers again. “Absolutely not. Princess Ava deserves her beauty sleep... Besides, there are plenty of ways to have fun that don't involve waking the entire house.” He trails a finger down your arm, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You lean into his touch, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“Oh, really? Do tell, Mr. Leclerc. Enlighten me on these... quieter forms of entertainment you have in mind.” you smile shyly while blushing.

Charles leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice is a low murmur, sending a delicious warmth through you.

“How about we explore each other, one slow touch at a time? See where the night takes us, without waking a single soul.” he whispers huskily.

His words ignite a spark within you, a thrilling mix of nervousness and excitement. You nod, your voice barely a whisper. “Sounds like a plan. But remember, we don't want to get too carried away. After all, Ava's room is just down the hall.”

A slow smile spreads across Charles' face. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering.

He smiles shyly while blushing. “Don't worry bébé, I know how to control myself... to a certain extent. But trust me, this is going to be better than any movie we could watch... I promise.”

He dips his head for a kiss, this one slow and lingering. His lips move against yours, a delicious exploration that leaves you breathless. His hand trails down your back, sending shivers down your spine.

As the kiss deepens, you become acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The t-shirt you borrowed from him smells faintly of laundry detergent and something uniquely Charles, a scent that intoxicates you.

With a soft sigh, you pull away slightly, your heart pounding in your chest.

You say breathlessly. “Maybe we should start by turning off the light. A little darkness can add to the mystery, right amour?”

Charles lets out a low chuckle, the sound rich and warm. He reaches over and flicks off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a comfortable darkness. The only light comes from the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window.

In the darkness, you feel Charles' hand find yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. It's a small gesture, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you.

He leans and whispers in your ear. “The night is young, and the possibilities are endless... Let's see where this adventure takes us.”

With that, he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your neck. You know this is a path untrodden, a journey into uncharted territory. But with Charles by your side, the uncertainty is exhilarating. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, ready to explore the night and the deepening connection that binds you together.

***

The kiss breaks, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You rest your forehead against Charles' chest, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

A moment of comfortable silence stretches between you. Then, Charles clears his throat, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.

“Listen babe, I just wanted to apologize. Maybe I came on a little strong there. It's just... well, it's been a while since I've had anyone in my bedroom, you know, other than Ava when she needs a middle-of-the-night cuddle or she has a fuss.” he mumble slightly.

He sounds embarrassed, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to his earlier confidence. You reach up and cup his cheek, a sympathetic smile playing on your lips. “Hey, it's okay... I understand, It's been a while for me too. Besides, I don't blame you for getting a little carried away after that movie... or maybe it was the cuddles on the couch... Either way, there's no pressure. We can take things slow if that's what you want!” you smile again. “But honestly, your straightforwardness is kind of refreshing... No games, just genuine interest. And that's something I can appreciate.” you giggle softly.

A flicker of relief washes over Charles' face, followed by a slow smile.

“Really? You're not offended? Because honestly, the last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable.” he sighs softly. “Slow sounds good, really good. But honestly, the thought of having you here all night, even if it's just for cuddles, is pretty darn amazing. It's been a long time since this place felt... well, alive.”

His words tug at your heartstrings. You understand the loneliness that comes with being a single parent, the longing for adult connection that can easily get overshadowed by the daily responsibilities.

You smile reassuringly. “Then consider yourself cuddled! Besides, I wouldn't want to leave you to face Ava's next potential night terror alone. Maybe I can even offer some expert advice on soothing a restless toddler. After all, I have a few nieces and nephews who keep me on my toes.”

Charles lets out a laugh, the sound warm and genuine. “Expert advice is always welcome, especially if it comes with a side of cuddles. Come here darling, just... Closer.”

He pulls you back into his arms, this time the embrace filled with a newfound tenderness. You rest your head on his shoulder, the sound of his heartbeat a comforting rhythm in the darkness.

The night may not have unfolded exactly as you planned, but as you settle into the warmth of Charles' embrace, you realize something unexpected... Sometimes, the best adventures are the ones that take you by surprise.

The night stretches before you, full of possibilities. There may not be any more passionate encounters, but the promise of a slow burn, a connection built on shared experiences and genuine connection, is far more enticing. You close your eyes, a contented sigh escaping your lips. You may not have gotten the fiery night you initially craved, but the prospect of a slow, sweet exploration with a charming single dad and his adorable daughter is a much more promising prospect.

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whore4abby · 7 months

Text

italian summer; abby anderson

prologue | part one | part two

warnings; younger!reader (20), older!abby (28), mndi

wc; 1.3k

a/n; inspired by call me by your name. set in the 80s

your parents had somehow convinced you to come and stay at a family friend’s italian villa in a small northern town for the summer, its not that you weren't grateful for the vacation or the break from college, it was the fact that you were staying in the middle of nowhere, isolated from all your friends back home, who were all probably spending their summer together having the time of their lives in your absense.

you were grateful for one thing though, the family friends who own the villa are the andersons, including your childhood best friend, lily, who you haven't seen since since high school when the family moved out of state. you had both kept in touch a little whilst in college and you were so excited to see her again, but you're not sure how much of her you'll be able to handle before you start to get a bit sick of her energetic antics.

you're in the backseat of the navy blue fiat 128, staring out the window at the beautiful italian scenery, the villa surrounded by towering cypress trees and lush, verdant grass. you dad eventually pulls the small car to a gentle halt and you all hop out.

you're practically bouncing up and down as you eagerly rush through the front door of the villa, squealing when you see your old best friend in the living room. a surge of excitement seems to take over her as she jumps up out of her seat and almost tackles you to the ground. “i missed you so, so much! you have no idea…” she giggles and squeezes you so tight you think your might burst. you pull back and look into her bright eyes, smiling widely, “i missed you too! so much…”

the rest of the morning is spent unpacking and spending time with your parents and the andersons, until lily had dragged you away to the pool. you both sit on the edge of the pool, your legs slowly wading back and forth through the cool water as you catch up on on each others lives. you laugh and reminisce together, telling each other every little nostalgic detail of your lives since the last time you saw each other.

lily rests her head on your shoulder as she looks out over the pool, admiring it quietly. you listen closely to the sounds of the calm wind and leaves rustling, the birds chirping and your parents laughter nearby. “i cant believe you guys spend every summer here, its so beautiful…” lily nods excitedly, glancing around at the abundant, flourishing grass around the large pool. “right?! this is my favorite place.”

“oh! also, abby should be arriving tonight.” lily smiles. your face lights up a little at the mention of her older sister but you try not to make it to obvious. you had a crush on abby when you were younger, a silly little schoolgirl crush on your best friends older sister, but the sound of her name still has you tongue-tied and babbling like an idiot.

“o-oh…i…didn’t know she would be here.“ you laugh slightly, trying to sound as casual as possible but the thought of this unexpected reunion and seeing abby again after all these years has your heart skipping a beat. it's a bittersweet feeling, as memories come rushing back, flooding your mind with sentimentality.

lily is completely unaware that you had a crush on her older sister when you were younger and maybe even still to this day. she begins to pick up on the little cues though, seeing how your voice strains and how you get flustered at the mention of her - but she chalks it up to the fact that you’re probably just excited and nervous to see abby again after all this time.

lily and you have spent the majority of your afternoon doing all sorts of activities. you’ve swam in the pool, sat under the sun and relaxed on the deck whilst drinking freshly made lemonade and nibbling your way through a platter of freshly-made food.

as the sun starts to set, shadows dance across your face and the wind rustles the trees melodiously in the distance. you’re still both clad in your swimsuits from the swim earlier, towels wrapped loosely around your shoulders as you both sit in the grass, taking in the gorgeous scenery and breathing in the crisp air.

“oh my god…is that abby?” you gasp as you watch a mysterious woman walk out onto the patio from inside the villa. she’s tall and absolutely gorgeous, her long wavy hair cascading down her back, almost touching her waist, wearing denim shorts paired with a classic black bikini top that shows off her impressive abs which are glistening in the low light from the setting sun.

abby approaches you both smiling smugly as she ruffles lily’s hair. ”it’s been a while, sis.” with her attention focused on lily, she didn’t seem to recognise you sat next to her. her attention is immediately being captured by you when her gaze directs itself to your beautiful face, her expression quickly shifts from one of smugness to curiosity as she stares at you for a moment before she realises who you are.

her eyes roam over every small detail of your appearance, drinking you in as if its the very first time she's ever seen you. “god you’ve changed…” you’re a little taken back and your heart begins beating faster as abby reaches out to you, your eyes flitting between her touchingly gentle hands and her playful but intense gaze. she looks at you for a moment with a curious smile before ruffling your hair with her big hand, an action that makes you shiver and smile shyly. your voice comes out a little breathless as you look up at her “abby….how’ve you been?”

”i’ve been good- busy with work, but in a good way.” she chuckles, tilting her head to the side as your eyes fix on her own. her voice is low and alluring, it only leaves your heart racing even more as she speaks.

abby smiles softly as she talks, her free hand moving to the small of your back. you inhale sharply as her fingertips move up and down your spine, her warm touch having you shiver momentarily. ”i work in ancient architecture. nothing too fancy, although i can’t complain about the pay…and i get to live here in italy!” she lets go of you, crossing her arms across her chest as she sits down in the grass beside you, looking back towards you briefly and smiling.

lily smiles at you both as she looks towards abby and rolls her eyes playfully. “my sister is such a weirdo. i still wonder sometimes if she actually lives in this century or not.” lily giggles while glancing over at you.

“hey! i think her job is very cool.” you smile and glance over at abby. her eyes quickly flick towards you as you glance in her direction, her lips curling up into a small smile as you praise her. ”oh, thank you! i have a lot of fun with it.”

as your two families join together, having decided to enjoy dinner outside in the balmy, summery night. crickets chirping and the sound of genuine laughter and hushed voices creating a murmur that echoes around the table.

you sit on one side of lily and you can see abby across from the both of you, her eyes twinkling under the glow of the moon and lanterns scattered around the dining table. her attention seems fixated solely on you, making you squirm a little in your seat.

everything seems to be going smoothly until that one dreaded question arises. “so, you seeing any boys lately?” lily nudges you excitedly. you freeze momentarily before forcing a smile onto your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, shaking your head. “im focusing on college right now…” you try to talk steadily but your fragile voice waivers a little.

abby picks up on your awkward mannerisms, the slightest hint of a smirk spreading across her wine-tinted lips as she watches the scene play out. she leans back in her seat, her eyes set on your own as she takes a deep sip from her glass.

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janeyseymour · 5 days

Text

Far From Home

for @jeridandridge

Summary: you're far away from home when you meet another Phillie's fan.

WC: ~3k

It’s just Melissa’s luck that her flight would get cancelled because of a hurricane sweeping over the Atlantic at this very moment. After a near brawl with one of the attendants because she insisted that it’s safe to fly (and it very much is not safe to fly), the redhead finds herself lugging her carry-on over to the restaurant bar with a huff.

“Whiskey, neat,” she sighs as she hands her card over to the bartender. “Please.”

“Flight get delayed?”

“Canceled,” she huffs. “They said they’d put me on the next flight out to Philly.”

“You’re a long way from home,” the bartender states softly. “Why you come all the way out here?”

“To Italy?” Melissa chuckles softly. “Because it’s Italy… and I was visiting my nonna.”

“So then why are you in such a rush to get back?”

“My baseball team is playing, and I have real nice tickets for tomorrow’s game,” the redhead explains. “Damn… they’re playing right now too. Any chance you get American sports to play over here?”

The bartender shakes his head. “But if you got an iPhone and can pull it up on there, I can cast it to the television so you can at least watch on the big screen while you figure everything else out.”

Melissa looks impressed and pulls out her phone. After a bit of work, the Phillies game is up on the screen, and the redhead is cheering along for her team with a beer now in hand.

Your flight from Italy back to the States was canceled. Of course it was. After a more than disastrous trip to Italy with your now ex-girlfriend, all you want to do is be in your apartment and curled up in your bed with a tub of ice cream and a glass of wine in hand. But now… you’re sitting in a restaurant bar while you wait for confirmation that the airline has put you on another flight home and seeing if they can put you up in a hotel for however long it will take to get back to Philly.

You have half a mind to go try to sleep off your exhaustion and anxiety, but something catches your eye. There’s a Phillies game on the big screen… in Italy? So, instead of finding a deserted corner, you sit down at the restaurant bar and pull out your phone. The bartender comes your way and pours you a drink when the Phillies are able to pull ahead of the Mets- the rival team.

“Hell yeah!” you raise your glass in the air with a smile. Schwarber was able to deliver again.

“You a Phillies fan?” the bartender chuckles.

“I bleed Philly,” you smile as your eyes stay trained on the screen. “Why do you even have this game playing? I didn’t think the Italians cared about baseball the way that Philadelphians do.”

“You aren’t the only Philadelphian in here,” he laughs as he points down towards the redhead at the other end of the bar, eyes also glued to the screen.

You cock your head to the side. “Wow.” She’s… really, really pretty. But you’re able to cover up that little gasp with the afterthought of, “Two Philadelphians in one little bar across the ocean.”

“She’s casting it from her phone right now,” the man tells you. Then he slides his way back down the bar to check on that beauty.

There’s something inside of you that wants to go over and talk to her- let her know that you think she’s beautiful. But… then you remember what you’re doing here. You just got dumped, and you don’t want to be that asshole who uses someone as a rebound. Especially not someone as stunning as her. So, you keep to your end of the bar while she keeps to hers. You don’t know it, but while you’re entranced by the screen and watching as Bryce Harper hits a ball that goes flying and Johan Rojas goes flying around the bases, she looks down to you, licking her lips subconsciously.

Your cheering at the screen as Rojas comes home and Harper slides into second pulls the redhead’s eyes from you and back onto the screen. Damn, she missed how that all went about.

She glances back in your direction, and your smile warms her heart. Deciding to take a leap of faith, she picks up her drink, gathers her bags, and makes her way down the bar.

“I missed what was happening,” you hear a voice. “Tell me what happened?”

“Rojas was on second, Schwarber and Realmuto struck out, and Harper hit a ball that found its way through. Rojas scored, Harper’s on second,” you recite the play, eyes still trained on the screen as Bohm tries to further the inning.

“Bohm’s gonna strike out,” the voice tells you.

“How do you know?”

“Just a hunch,” the woman sighs. The truth is that she got the notification on her phone that he struck out and the inning was over.

She’s right, and as a commercial comes on, you finally turn. You don’t expect it to actually be that beautiful woman from the other end of the bar to be sitting next to you now, eyes watching you with wonder.

“Wow,” you whisper softly.

“What?” she asks you.

“I saw you from across the bar and thought you were pretty, but,” you cough awkwardly. “You’re more gorgeous than I thought.”

The woman smirks, and her eyes sparkle. She sticks out her hand for you to shake while saying, “Melissa.”

“Y/N,” you tell her as you shake her hand. “The bartender told me you’re the one casting the game right now?”

“I am,” she tells you. “Born and raised a Philly fan from South. You?”

You break out into a smile. “Born and raised in the ‘burbs of Philly, moved to Center City Philly a few years ago for work… I’ve been cheering for Philly teams since I could talk.”

“Yeah?” Melissa chuckles.

After a few taps on your phone, there’s video of you at the age of two dressed in an Eagles cheerleader outfit and singing the fight song playing.

The redhead next to you grins as she watches. When it’s finished, she hands you back your phone. “That’s fuckin’ precious.”

You blush. “It’s… definitely something.”

She goes to say more, but the Phillies broadcast comes back on, and you’re both taken to the screen. The two of you cheer together and boo the other team together as the game continues.

In between innings, you chat and get to know Melissa more. You come to find that she’s a second and third grade teacher at a public school in center city- one that you pass by on your walk to work almost everyday. You find that she knows a lot of people. You also find that she’s somewhat of a legend when it comes to the casinos down in Atlantic City- as it turns out, she’s the ‘Red Hot’ that you hear people talking about as you would mill around the casino floor. But you also learn that her eyes sparkle when she talks about the things she’s passionate about. You discover that her laugh is a source of happiness for you. You’ve also learned that her smile is something that could light up Center City Philadelphia all on its own. She has you absolutely enchanted with her being.

It isn’t until the bottom of the ninth inning when you recognize the fact that she’s holding your hand in anticipation, and she has been holding your hand since… since the first full inning that you watched together.

When it’s announced that the Phillies won, she’s jumping up out of her seat and hugging you tightly. You of course embrace her back with the same ferocity.

But now that the game is over, nothing is keeping her from sitting next to you. And you feel… disheartened by that? Upset that she’s probably going to leave and you’ll never see her again? You don’t know.

It doesn’t matter though, because she’s sitting back down on her barstool, taking your hand again, and sipping her beer. “So…”

The two of you continue to talk for hours. It isn’t until both of your phones ping that you look away from each other.

“Uh,” you sigh. “They put me up in a hotel room, so I guess I should head out.”

“Me too,” the redhead breathes quietly.

“I had a really nice time watching the game with you,” you tell her softly. “Like… it made me feel like I wasn’t stranded in the middle of another country without a way to get home for who knows how long.”

“Where did they put you up?”

You rattle off the name of the hotel, and her eyes light up. “That’s where I am too. Should we split a cab to get there?”

When you do get there, she checks herself in and then helps you check in. It’s a sweet gesture, and your rooms are next to each other as luck would have it.

“Would you want to come in?” she asks you as she unlocks her own door.

You smile. “Just give me a few to settle in, but then I’ll be over.”

Melissa and you spend the rest of the day together, walking around the little city that you find yourself in, picking up beer and wine, and then spending the rest of the time in her hotel room drinking and talking about everything. It’s not anything like what you expected being stuck in another country alone would be like. You’re not alone now though, Melissa is keeping you company. A small part of your mind wonders what your ex-girlfriend is doing… because she’s stuck in Italy now too- probably finding the first woman who was gay and throwing herself at her.

You’re in a tipsy haze as the two of you lounge on her bed watching whatever show in English you can find. And then… her lips are on your own. Oh god. She’s kissing you.

You pull away gently and sigh. “Melissa, I-”

“I read the situation wrong,” she says immediately and pulls away. “I’m sorry. I- I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t read the situation wrong,” you promise her. “I just… fuck. I just broke up with my girlfriend, and as much as I am attracted to you, I don’t want to use you as a rebound.”

“Oh,” Melissa’s mouth forms into a small ‘O’. “Oh.”

“I don’t want to be the jackass who uses someone as beautiful and as sweet as yourself to rebound,” you say again. “I just… I’m not like that.”

She sits up just slightly. “I respect that. Thank you for… for not doing that.”

You just nod. “I suppose now that I made it awkward, I should see myself-”

“Stay,” the redhead tells you softly. “Just because we aren’t going to hook up doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company- as a friend.”

You settle back down onto the bed.

That was two days ago. In the two days since that kiss, you’ve still spent all of your unexpected time in Italy with Melissa. She’s… if you weren’t in the situation you’re in, you would be all over her. Maybe… maybe once you get back to the states and a respectable amount of time has passed. But for now, the two of you are getting ready to get on the flight back to Philly.

You’re not sure what strings she pulled, but you’re seated next to each other for the nearly nine hour flight. The two of you are already seated when your ex-girlfriend passes by, arm linked with a very pretty girl. She sneers at you.

“That her?” Melissa asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Already moved onto the next.”

“You could do better,” the green eyed woman smirks. “And you’re a better person for not doing what she’s doing to me.”

In your own dozing state, you feel Melissa’s head drop down to your shoulder, and it brings you a small sense of happiness. You let her continue to rest that way until you know her neck is going to be paying for it if she sleeps that way any longer.

“Mel,” you shake her gently. “Mel, you gotta wake up, or your neck is going to be killing you when we land.”

She blearily opens her eyes and looks at you, confused. Right… she’s wearing earplugs and headphones and can’t hear you. You type out on your phone what you’re trying to convey, and she nods. ‘Thank you,’ she mouths. It’s only a few minutes later that you feel her head again, although this time she’s laying across the middle seat and has her head in your lap. You just smile to yourself as you close your eyes again, a hand draping itself gently over her hip.

The next time the two of you wake up, the flight attendant is looking at Melissa very unhappily. The seatbelt light had gone on while you were both asleep, and you were beginning the descent. With a frustrated huff, the redhead sits up and buckles her seatbelt.

Once the plane lands, all hell breaks loose as it always does what with everybody in a rush to get off the plane and home. And in the chaos, you lose sight of Melissa. You go to text her or call her before you realize that you never actually got her number. The time that the two of you spent together was constant, and there was no need to be able to contact each other over the phone when she was always right next to you. Exhausted and frustrated, you let out a groan.

Deciding that you should probably just get your belongings and try to hail a cab to head home, you make your way to the luggage carousel. You wait for what feels like forever- hoping that Melissa will make her way over to you. Only once you’re positive that there is no more luggage on that particular belt do you give up and go home. You don’t know that she’s doing the same thing on the other side of the loop. There’s a pole blocking your sight.

You think about her on the Uber ride home, you think about her while you eat dinner, you think about her while you’re preparing for bed and when you’re crawling into bed. You dream of her. You can’t believe you were stupid enough to not get her number after spending three entire days with her.

Similarly, in a townhouse not too far from where you reside, Melissa is kicking herself. She knows that you’ve just broken up with your girlfriend- she knows that you don’t want to use her as a rebound. And somehow, she’s still mad that she didn’t get your number. She… she wouldn’t mind being your rebound, and she doesn’t have a doubt that it would turn into something more than just a rebound… if she had your number to contact you. She supposes what happens in Italy stays in Italy.

On Monday morning, you still can’t get that redheaded beauty out of your head- you can’t even why you try to busy yourself with literally anything else. So… you take fate into your hands. You know she works at the school down the street from your office, so you take it upon yourself to call in late to work, explaining that you have a few personal things to take care of as you pull into the Abbott Elementary school parking lot.

You see her pull in, and after a quick glance at your appearance in the rearview mirror, you deem yourself put together enough to face again. You slide out of your car and call her name.

She looks… shocked. Her jaw drops open as she watches you step out of your car.

“Y/N?” she calls out.

You jog up to her car. “Listen, I know I’m probably coming off as a stalker right now, but

I just… I couldn’t shake you from my thoughts as we lost each other in the airport. I wanted to call or text, but I didn’t have your number. And then I remembered you work here, and I literally work right down the road, and my boss is probably going to kill me for being late on my first day back in two weeks, but-”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either,” she cuts you off as she reaches for your hand.

You pull her into your arms gently before pressing your lips to hers. “Look, I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I knew I couldn’t let you go that easily, and I don’t want to be a jackass and use you as a rebound, but-”

“I’m here,” Melissa whispers to you as she pulls you back in for another kiss. “I’m here when you’re ready for whatever you think this might turn into. For now though, we can be friends… we can hang out like we did in Italy.”

“Yeah?”

The teacher smiles at you. “Of course. I actually have two tickets for tomorrow’s game if you wanted to come with me?”

“I thought you had tickets for the game while we were Italy?”

She shrugs. “I told you, I know a guy… I was able to contact him while we were there, and he just exchanged my tickets.”

You grin. “I would be delighted.”

Her smile matches yours. “Wonderful. If I could just get your number so we could arrange to meet tomorrow? And then I really do have to get into my classroom… prepping a science lesson.”

“Yeah, of course,” you fumble for your phone in your bag and hand it over. She texts herself with a smile.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” you ask hopefully.

She kisses your cheek. “For sure.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction

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look-at-the-soul · 13 days

Text

Every little thing you do- Part 7

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N:Sorry for not posting this part earlier! I’ve been sick all week but I’m finally functioning like a human again 🤭 you’ll see some references to what really happened in season 3, I just adapted it to this story. Anyways hope you enjoy it! 🥰 let me know in the comments xx

Word count: 3,964

Tommy felt his anger raising, but he needed to calm down and think.

Think straight, have a clear mind.

Father Hughes was the most irritating person on earth. He didn’t want him to be involved in his charity project, that man was far from being someone respectable and he only make him waste his time. Deep down, Tommy knew he must have a dark past, something that he did wrong… he just needed to find what was his weakness.

It was still early, but still he needed a drink. Taking a glass and a decanter, he poured himself some.

“Thomas.” Polly called from the door.

“I need you to take care of everything today, gotta go.”

“Where?”

“I’ve a meeting, will probably be back later tonight.” He took a long swing of his drink. “Arranged a meeting with Vicente Changretta, Arthur and John will be there.”

They needed to fix the relationship with the Italians, after burning down the restaurant. He already had enough trouble in his hands.

“Fine.” She looked at him intensely. “You know… I was talking to Lizzie yesterday.”

Tommy hummed unbothered.

“Has Y/N told you if Lizzie keeps pissing her off?”

“No. Why?” He moved to his desk to take a few things.

Polly shuddered, perhaps she understood Lizzie wrong, she seemed to feel embarrassed and refused to say anything else to her.

“She’s jealous.” Polly ran her fingers through her hair. “She thought Y/N’s baby was yours.”

Tommy’s head snapped towards his aunt. His eyes had closed in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

“Look, I’m not judging her, and you shouldn’t either.” Polly gave him a knowing glance, se had talked to the secretary and she seemed to be having a change of heart.

“She told me she’s willing to do anything to get you to trust her once more.”

Pondering on Polly’s words, Tommy thought for a couple of seconds. “Anything eh? Alright… she’s going to help us clean the mess she made.”

He’d try to push Lizzie’s buttons just to make sure how far she could go. The sudden change could’ve a reason behind.

Now it was Polly’s turn to squint her eyes. “What are you thinking of?”

“She’s going to break up this absurd romance with Angel Changretta. Very peacefully.”

“Isn’t that too much to ask?” She asked cautiously.

“Explain to Lizzie how life works, no matter what Angel says, he’ll always remind her of her past. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll always have her desk available here as a secretary, but if she keeps this going, I’m going to be her worst nightmare.” He warned right before storming out his office.

First he’d stop by to pay Ada a visit, then off to the meeting with the Russian royalty.

***

Y/N thanked the two men carrying the last piece of furniture into the office, they previously brought in the small desk and chairs, the bookshelf and a file cabinet.

In the corner of the room, she kept a box full of folders, sheets and other office supplies she would distribute among the classrooms. Most of her days have been busy organizing the storage and after a while it seemed to be presentable.

“Miss Y/N Y/LN?” The gardener called, getting her attention. “Your presence is required outside.”

“Oh! Sure.”

The Shelby Institute might open its doors any moment now, she thought as she strolled through the long hall, her shoes clacked against the floor, the daily walks around the institute made her keep in a good shape, because her belly was becoming more prominent day by day, of course she got out of breath anyways.

“We just need you to check if it’s the right color.” Paul asked pointing at the wall.

Tommy made sure to hire Small Heath people, purchasing all the material from local and small businesses, he felt this urge to help as much as possible because he couldn’t stop thinking given different circumstances, it would be him instead of them struggling with money, not having enough in their pockets to feed their family.

“This looks amazing, thank you for all the hard work you’re doing.” Y/N praised.

It wasn’t her place to supervise, but Tommy officially let her decide everything that was needed; from the color, decoration, even the personnel. He just kept signing cheques.

“Am I still on time to enroll my children? Could you ask Mr. Shelby, Miss Y/LN?”

“Yes of course you can! Bring me the papers tomorrow morning and the authorization.”

It was Tommy’s wish, to help as much people as possible.

The man gave her an embarrassed glance. “I don’t want them to be like me, I want them to have an education.” He added with melancholy.

“There’s nothing wrong to work in construction Billy,” Y/N encouraged. “But it’s admirable that you want them to be better.”

“That wouldn’t be possible without Mr. Shelby’s generosity.”

Y/N smiled at him but before she could step inside the building again, she noticed a car parking behind. Squinting her eyes because of the sun, she could barely tell who was that.

“Is this the Institution that runs that gang leader?” The man asked, judging by his attire he was a priest, but there was some off about him that said otherwise.

An uneasy feeling made Y/N take a step back, she covered her bump with the folders in her hands in a protective motion.

“Who’s asking?”

Tommy would be the last person on earth to have something to do with a priest.

The man looked her up and down, giving her a nasty and dirty stare.

“Tell him I’ll supervise this place, once it’s open.”

When he left, his vehicle made a cloud of dust. He didn’t ask politely, no, he pretended to be in charge of the charity.

Y/N walked inside the Institute again, making a mental note to add a room for the children to read, and they might need a fountain in the patio. She chuckled to herself, realizing she started to sound like Tommy.

No long after honking loudly, Tommy announced his presence, Y/N saw him behind the window as he was strolling towards her.

“Pick up your stuff, we’re going.” He announced.

“Where?”

“Somewhere, don’t ask.”

Y/N frowned. “I’ve to ask, it’s going to be midday, there’s things that need to be done.”

Tommy stepped into her office, looking for her coat and handbag.

“Yeah I pay you a ridiculous amount of money it’s about time you hire an assistant.” He said with a wink.

“An assistant of an assistant. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.” She added, Tommy noticed she crossed her arms, not pleased by his interruption, she was always doing what she had to do and don’t you dare to move something from her things-to-do-list.

“It’s something good, trust me.”

“Can I ask where are we going?” Y/N asked enjoying the wind in her face.

“No.”

“What’s with all this secrecy?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to tell me no.”

“Well, you better include food because the baby is getting hungry.” Y/N smiled at her bump, while her hands caressed in a circle motion. Day by day she was getting fond of her baby.

“Oh I was counting you’d say that, lately you’re demanding more and more food.” He added in a light mood.

“Polly says I need to eat for two.” Y/N defended.

Tommy chuckled and in a blink, he was gone. He literally stormed into the library.

The little information she managed to get was that now she was reading out loud for Tommy a book about Russians that ran away from the revolution and opted to live exiled and from the Crown’s charity. Tommy assured her that way was practical.

Parking later after in front of a couple of shops, but she still knew so little about what was behind Tommy’s requests.

“I’ve a meeting around, it should be quick,” he explained helping Y/N out of the car, “but I thought it might be good if you start searching for some baby furniture, eh?”

“Tommy…” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“And don’t even start saying you don’t have money, I promised your grandma to look after the two of you, and that includes the things the baby will need.” Tommy used her shocked state to practically drag her inside the store, wining the argument way before it could start. “Hello, we would like to check out a moses, a rocking chair, a drawer…”

Y/N stared at him silently, Tommy thought of everything and even though his generosity wasn’t a surprise, it still came out of the blue, catching her off guard.

“Would you like us to open an account?” Asked the perplexed sales woman.

“Yes,” Tommy answered eyeing a catalog. “Everything she wants, a lamp, the carpet, the sheets… just put it into my account.” He handled a card with his company name and address. “Pick you up in about an hour?”

Y/N nodded, still trying to process everything.

“Leave something for the rest of the costumers ey!” Tommy shouted from the door before disappearing.

The woman started swooning immediately. “I hope the baby will get his eyes.” The woman admitted with a blush.

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her and tell her that Tommy wasn’t the father, but she closed it instead, remembering the advise her grandmother shared with her; don’t explain your situation to people you don’t know, let them believe their assumptions even if it’s incorrect. It will save you of uncomfortable explanations.

So Y/N gave the sales woman an awkward smile and followed her to the back of the store, this moment would arrive sooner or later and she was already here.

“We can make any piece you want in a variety of colors, there’s a trunk in the corner that goes well with this dresser…”

“Let me bring the fabric catalog for the carpets.” Added another woman, they obviously wanted to make a juicy sale.

Y/N felt like she was walking on a cloud, the smile on her face couldn’t get bigger. And now, she was the one swooning over the furniture, her imagination taking her to unknown places with images of her rocking her baby to sleep, or taking a look through the canopy at a small bundle of joy.

An excited gasp escaped her lips when she landed her eyes on a crib mobile. Her heart did this flip inside her chest and she could hardly hide her emotions.

“Should we add it?” The expert eye of the sales woman noticed her excitement. “Your baby will be fascinated and spend hours staring at it.”

The mobile had a handmade star and a sheep, a fluffy cloud and a small sun. It was adorable, she couldn’t wait for her baby to be born to use everything.

Y/N was allowed to sit on the rocking chairs to see which one felt more comfortable and the women showed her a few combinations to create a whole set of dresser, a small wardrobe, a bedside table and also the different colors they had to offer. The more she looked, the more confused she felt because everything was beautiful! She had never had the chance to purchase furniture, since her house was filled with her grandma’s possessions.

A fond memory of her grandmother knitting a blanket for one of her sisters filled her mind, her parents didn’t have enough money to buy fancy furniture, so they used a basket as a crib, she was just a girl but she remembered it clearly.

Both women shared endless recommendations for her baby arrival, and Y/N felt extremely grateful and was willing to take every little thing that could be helpful.

As she flicked another page of the catalog, she wondered how long would it take Tommy to pick her up, then her thoughts wandered towards her sister Lee-Anne, the last time she saw her, it was the day her father hit her. They couldn’t meet because their parents where so strict now, after what happened, they were trying to move under the radar according to her grandmother. There were so many things she wanted to tell Lee-Anne, firstly assure her that she was alright, she didn’t need to worry, then when the time is right, she would explain everything to her, so the younger girl wouldn’t make the same mistake as her.

Not that she thought her baby was a mistake, no. Those are two separate things. But the circumstances it’s what was wrong, she was aware that not all women had a Tommy Shelby around the corner to selflessly take care of everything.

If only she knew then, she’d do it differently.

“Y/N?” A gentle voice called for her, something squeezed her arm slightly.

Her eyes fluttered open and Y/N looked around confused.

“You fell asleep.” Tommy pointed out.

“It happens all the time.” The sales woman gave her a small glance. “We didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Goodness.” Y/N felt embarrassed and mortified, she felt tired.

“So, I think you found the perfect rocking chair then.” Tommy raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“We’ll have everything delivered in a couple of weeks.” Her smile couldn’t get bigger.

Thanking them, Tommy and Y/N stepped outside the boutique, she wanted to stretch her legs so bad.

“How did your meeting go?”

“Boring.”

He always had just a few words to say. But his eyes, said everything that was crossing his mind.

“Did you get to drink vodka and do the Russian dance?” Y/N teased.

Tommy scoffed at her sense of humor.

“He’s a liar, a buffer. He’s just a filthy lucky bastard with the right connections.”

He sighed loudly, but at least Tommy was sharing something with her. In that case it would be so easy for him to make that man show his true colors.

As he started the engine, Y/N started telling him of all the adorable things they showed her at the store, noticing the way her eyes were glowing. And he obviously preferred that kind of news instead of the one Polly was about to share.

“I’ll wait here by the fireplace.” Y/N announced, not wanting to get in the middle of the argument.

Sitting in one of the couches, she leaned her head back, rolling her feet meanwhile a few steps away, the Shelby family were discussing over whatever John had made.

“If you apologize once, you do it again and again…” Y/N heard Tommy say as she was drifting away to sleep. But she was far too gone and tired.

Feeling drained after all the things he got busy with, Tommy couldn’t wait to be home.

“You can stay over so you don’t have to drive back.” He proposed to his brother Finn, who would be driving.

But as Tommy stepped into the entry, he stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on Y/N. She was peacefully sleeping on the couch, the flames of the fireplace casting shadows over her features while one of her hands rested under her belly.

He didn’t have the heart to wake her up.

“Bring the car around.” He whispered Finn, trying to concede Y/N a few more minutes before starting the road back home.

Taking off his coat, he slid it over her frame to cover her from the cold. Tommy tried to call her in a low voice, but she only adjusted her shoulder as answer. Y/N should probably take things easier, but she was adamant to finish the charity project, she was pouring every fiber of her soul into it and wanted to make sure every single detail was perfect.

“Y/N… let’s go.” Tommy tried again softly.

Fluttering her eyes, she slowly opened them squinting in confusion by feeling Tommy touching her shoulder.

“C’mon let me help you.”

“Hmm.” She hummed barely cooperating.

She was beyond sleepy by the time they reached the car, settled taking the back seat by herself, she heard the Shelby brothers talking something about an Italian pub and a fight that would eventually happen. Tommy mentioned something about their fragile ego and sending flowers to a hospital, but Y/N couldn’t be sure because maybe it was part of her dream.

She moved across the room, smashing the fresh berries for the pie she was baking, the lovely smell feeling the small kitchen, it was a sunny day and she could hear the birds chirping, when suddenly a baby cry came to her attention. Y/N rushed then to get pick up her baby who was demanding her presence.

“It’s just fine, are you hungry?” She cooed to settle the lovely bundle wrapped in a blanket.

“How’s my ray of sunshine?” Asked her grandmother from behind, reaching over to caress the baby’s face.

“Woke up hungry.”

“You feed the baby while I finish the pie.”

When the car took a turn Y/N’s bumped something, she woke up disoriented.

“Finally I was tired of you snoring.” Tommy teased taking at look over his shoulder.

“Oh my God I don’t snore!”

“Loud and clear.” Tommy assured her. “Like a truck driver.”

Y/N gave Tommy a surprised and embarrassed look, awkwardly she tried to fix her hair since it was out of place.

Finn rushed upstairs while Mary greeted them by the door.

“Something important came up?” Tommy asked the maid.

“Just a few letters.” She gave him a nod.

“Oh, and maybe a couple of responses to the charity invitation.” Y/N wondered out loud.

“All correspondence arrived under Mr. Shelby’s name.” The maid explained, making a bit obvious that she wasn’t very fond of Y/N.

Y/N looked between Tommy and Mary, waiting.

“Go on, go check the mail.” He told her softly.

“Mr. Shelby.” Mary tried to get his attention. “The mailman thinks Miss Y/LN is Mrs. Shelby, he asked me if Mrs. Shelby had anymore invites to send off.” The maid voiced with concern.

Tommy noticed the offended tone in her voice.

“Let him think whatever he wants, Mary.” Tommy shuddered, not thinking it was important. “As long as he takes the mail.”

“But…” she tried again, then closed her mouth when Tommy gave her the look.

“That’s all, thank you Mary.” Tommy dismissed her just as Y/N entered the reading room skipping happily.

“Guess!”

Sitting, Tommy groaned. “Guess what?”

“He said yes!” Y/N explained excitedly.

“Who?” He chuckled at her happiness.

“He leader of the Birmingham City Council is going to attend the dinner.” Y/N showed him the letter back. “Everyone has said yes.”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the piece of paper, towards Y/N.

“Ah.” Suddenly she got the energy of a kid, it was the nap during the car ride did wonders to her.

“I keep changing the menu, do you think we should offer something else?” Y/N kept explaining how she needed to send a Thank you note back to the people who had confirmed their attendance.

The charity was clearly an excellent job for her. Keeping her busy with something good whilst helping people in need and he was glad to have someone he could trust to take care of that.

“You need to remember to take this slowly, write off those notes tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.” He suggested.

“But Tommy, these things can’t wait, it takes days for the letters to be delivered and-”

“Very well then, why don’t you use the typewriter I gave you.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

“Tom!” She chuckled. “You don’t write letters of a social occasion on a typewriter.” Y/N explained him with a smile.

“Oh, forgive me.” He raised his eyebrows.

She then went on to show him another paper. “I’ve the drawings of what they plan to do with the grounds of the institute. There’ll be an area for the children to play. Look.” He hummed in response. “And the Birmingham Charity Commission have agreed to set aside their three rotten floorboards upstairs and grant us the license within a month.”

She finally took a deep breath after managing to explain him all in record time. There was a soft smile playing on his lips and she found tenderness in his eyes.

“You’re not listening to me.” Y/N sentenced.

Tommy leaned forwards. “Yes I am. I am.”

“You think I’m becoming obsessed?” Y/N stopped abruptly.

A chuckle escaped Tommy’s lips. “No, as a matter of fact, I love the passion you’ve put into this project.”

“This wouldn’t be possible without you.” Y/N expressed honestly.

Tommy gave Y/N a long look, studying her features, until he finally spoke.

“I’ve something for you.” Y/N frowned confused. “I know you’ll say it’s a bit too much, but still.”

“What did you get?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Close your eyes.” Tommy encouraged.

“Tom.”

He fixed his eyes on her, not taking a no for as answer. So she gave in, turned around and closed her eyes.

Leaning back, Tommy got something out of his pocket, holding the chain between both hands, he presented Y/N the present.

Y/N felt lost for words when she saw the necklace. “What’s this?”

“A sapphire.” He explained calmly.

The cold stone sent a shiver down her spine when it made contact with her skin. It felt heavy and strange to have a stone that bug hanging from her neck.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“A simple thank you could work.” He winked. “And before you even start, you can either wear it or keep it in the box it’s your choice.”

Y/N was still trying to process the overpriced present, never in a million years she imagined to own something like that piece of expensive jewelry.

“This is insane, but thank you.” She chuckled nervously. “Where am I even supposed to wear something like this? The charity event?”

“You can wear it to church if you want, it’s yours Y/N.”

“Goodness.” She looked down at her chest and touched the cold gemstone. “You really look for any excuse to show off your wealth, damned bastard.”

Tommy laughed loudly. “You got me.”

“I wanted to ask you to be my baby’s godfather… but you’re going to spoil the poor child.”

“Oh I think I earned that right, so you better keep considering me.”

She slapped his arm playfully, earning another laugh from him. Tommy pulled her by the arm but the sharp move caught her off guard and made her loose her balance, landing on his chest. His arms came around her waist instantly in a protective motion, and their laughs subsided as soon as they realized how close they were to each other’s faces.

Something they both didn’t know how to name ignited in that moment, suddenly her warm hands felt like burning through the layers of his clothes, his deep blue sparkled in a way she had never seen before.

Struggling to form a coherent thought, Y/N used his chest to support her arms and move back. Tommy cleared his throat just as he was trying to clear his mind.

“Sorry… I stumbled.” She tried to smooth her clothes.

“Yeah.” He noticed the blush on her cheeks.

“Better go to get s-some rest.” The words rushed out of her lips. “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He replied more to himself, watching her leave the room.

Taking the remains of his drink in a swing, Tommy thought how close they were of crossing a line that would change everything.

Tag list: list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22

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@already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx

@sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife

@darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood

@lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag)

@holacia3 @galactict3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74

@natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader insert #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fan fiction #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader

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metallicamunson · 8 months

Text

Boyfriend(James Potter x FemReader)

Hi everyone, I finally finished this fic after months of starting it. It’s not my best work but it’s not too shabby considering I haven’t written in a while. Hope you guys enjoy this song inspired fic 🥲🤍

Word Count: 3,099

Warnings: Angst to Fluff, some cursing.

Summary: One where you and James find your way back to each other

——-

If there is one thing you and James are good at, it’s getting under one another’s skin.

It didn’t matter that your relationship ended in your seventh year at Hogwarts. Having the same friend group means seeing each other constantly. Not to mention, the breakup was a mutual decision, deeming that it would be best to be friends while you both figured out what came after school.

Looking back, you can’t help but feel it was a stupid decision. A brash agreement made by two teenagers in love, scared to take the next step in their relationship.

You very much still love James Potter.

And James Potter is still very much in love with you.

Although- neither of you knows it.

Meanwhile, your friends watch from the sidelines, waiting for either of you to make the first move to rekindle your romance.

DATE ONE (James)

It all started when the marauders invited the whole group for brunch. They all sat around the table on the balcony of their home, enjoying fluffy waffles with various fruits spread over the table. You couldn’t help but sneak glances toward James; he looked good. The white T-shirt he wore- accentuated his muscular arms, and his waist in those trousers was a look to die for.

You bit your lip in embarrassment when you caught Remus’ gaze; his eyebrows raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You shook your head, taking a long sip of your champagne.

“Word on the street is that Prongs got himself a date tonight,” Sirius says, nudging James in the ribs with an elbow.

Now that- caught the attention of everyone, especially yours. Your eyes met with James’ who looked like a deer caught in headlights. He let out an awkward cough, twisting the ring on his middle finger.

“Uh- yeah, it’s a girl I met the other day at a coffee shop.”

It suddenly felt like your intestines were twisting into knots as jealousy consumed your now racing heart.

“That’s great, James,” Marlene smiles; she can’t help but look over at you. “What's her name?”

“Hannah, but it’s nothing serious,” he quickly adds, “it might not even go anywhere.”

“Well, you better bloody make sure she has a good time- she’s fine as f-, ow what the hell!” Sirius glares at Lilly, who just kicked him under the table.

“Okay- enough talk about James’ lov-”

“I’m happy for you; I hope you have a splendid time with what’s her face,” you chirp, lips settling into a tight smile. “Maybe this time around, you’ll get the first date right.”

Now that stung, you always assured James that you loved your first date despite the minor- okay, major hic-ups along the way. Truth be told you- love it; you found him adorable when he attempted to fix everything. He thought you’d never want to see him again, but imagine his surprise when you kissed him at the end of your date.

“Her name is Hanna- Lilly; stop doing that!” Sirius exclaims, kicking her back.

“I know you did not just kick me, Sirius Black!” Lilly says, throwing a grape in his direction.

“Will you two stop acting like children,” Remus sighs, “now let's all take a deep breath-”

“You know what, I will have a great time with Hannah! I might take her to that little Italian restaurant with the good breadsticks!” James says, shooting a terse smile your way.

That’s yours and James’ place. The place you both first said, ‘I love you.’

“Sounds like a lovely idea.” You scoot your chair back, throwing your napkin on your plate. “You know what, I forgot I have an errand to run. Thank you for brunch, boys. Bye, everyone.”

You take your bag from the handle of your chair, exiting through the sliding door.

James groans, leaning his forehead against his fist with his eyes closed.

Later that night

“You know what, I’m happy for him. I’m sure he and Helen will make a great couple,” you murmur, pacing back and forth.

“Hannah.” Marlene corrects before shrinking back when you raise your eyebrow at her.

“(Y/n) Why won’t you admit it; you still love him!” Lilly sighs, sitting up from her spot on your bed.

“Me? Lilly, please, we both agreed our breakup was for the best. I’m fine with it.”

“Your eye twitched when you said that.” Marlene laughed.

“It did not,” you lift your hand to your eye. You lay down between the two girls, staring at the ceiling of your room. “Okay, maybe it hurt a little when he said he was taking her to our spot.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that to you,” Marlene says with a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t even know why I care; we broke up almost a year ago. One of us dating was bound to happen.”

—

It turns out Hannah was someone who liked to move fast. James couldn’t have made a faster excuse to leave when she mentioned what names he’d want for their baby.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel ecstatic when Remus told you.

DATE ONE (Y/n)

“I’m sorry, I could have sworn I heard you say (Y/n) has a date with Caleb.” James laughs, walking into the kitchen where Remus and Sirius sit around the island. “You know the number of times he put the moves on her when we were dating; he should give it up.”

“Erm Prongs, I did say exactly that,” Remus chuckles nervously.

James stood still, the fridge wide open; his mind went completely blank for a few seconds. His grip on the handle tightened, grabbing the milk before slamming the fridge door shut.

“Are you okay, mate? I know this is the first date she’s been on since you two broke up.” Sirius slides a bowl across the island towards James.

“I’m fine. (Y/n) doesn’t owe me anything.” He shakes the cereal aggressively into his bowl. “I’m happy for her.”

Remus and Sirius share a look; they know for a fact that he is not okay.

A few days later

You knocked on the door of the marauders, your other hand holding a basket of pastries you made for them. A few seconds later, the door opens.

“Oh, hey.” James smiles, moving to the side to let you in.

You nod your head as a greeting, handing him the basket. “I thought I’d drop these off- Remus has been nagging me to make him my ‘famous brownies.’ I um- also made a few scones in there, or whatever,” you mumble.

You made scones, his favorite. He can’t help but grin; why does his heart feel like it is about to beat out of his chest?

“I smell brownies!” Remus runs down the spiral stairs, snatching the basket from James and rummaging through it. “Why are two just standing there- we have a couch, you know?”

James rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to move into the living room. “How did you smell brownies- your room is at the end of the hall upstairs.”

“You seem to forget about my werewolf capabilities.” Remus points out, moaning when he takes a bite of the brownie. “How’d your date go?”

James visibly tenses, staring at the side of your face. You shift in your seat, picking at your nails. “It went well. He treated me well, paid for dinner, and made me laugh.”

Remus nods in approval, though he can’t help but feel he jumped the bullet, bringing it up with James in the room.

James felt himself spiraling. What he said next wasn’t his finest moment.

“It seems kind of desperate going out with a guy who follows you around like a puppy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, James,” your head snaps in his direction, a frown now evident on your face.

“I don’t know; I just think he’s a loser- anyone who goes out with him must not have very high standards.”

Your eyes brim with tears, so this is what he thought of you. “You know what, fuck you, James Potter,” you scoff, “I’ll have you know he is not a loser- he's a gentleman!”

“He’s creepy (Y/n); the man borderline stalks you!” James laughs in disbelief.

“You know what, I don’t have to listen to this!” You exclaim, flinging a pillow in his direction. You turn to Remus, “I’ll call you later tonight- I can’t be around,” you gesture with your hands towards James, “him.”

You stomp your way out of their house, slamming the door shut.

“That was a dick move,” Remus says, taking another brownie from the basket.

“I’m looking after her!” James sighs, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re in love with her and got jealous,�� he looks over at James.

“What! No! Pshh, our breakup was mutual, remember?”

“Uh-hm, sure, keeping living in denial, prongs.” Remus takes the basket from the coffee table, heading towards the stairs.

“She brought those for all of us, you know!” James shouts from his spot on the couch. He rolls his eyes with a small smile when he hears Remus running up the stairs.

—

James was right. But you’d run around naked in negative-degree weather before admitting that- out loud.

DATE TWO (James)

You found out about his second date through Marlene this time around. It was some girl he ran into at the gym. According to Marlene, she was the one to ask him out, which intrigued James.

You were okay with it. Totally completely fine.

“Do you know where they’re going?” You say, trying to sound nonchalant, flipping through the channels of Marlene’s TV.

“Sirius said they were going bowling.”

“Cool.”

You throw the remote beside you, your mind not focusing on anything but James. Ever since you went on your date with Caleb, the bickering between the both of you only intensified. The two of you could not be in the same room with each other without one or the other making a snide remark.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhm, he’s a single man; he can do what he wants,” you murmur, tugging the blanket under your chin.

—

“So how’s it going between gym girl and James?” you murmur, sectioning Sirius’ hair in half to start braiding two braids.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t talked about it much,” he shrugs.

You frown; this could mean one of two things. They either hit it off and are keeping their relationship a secret. Or it went so bad that James refuses to speak about it.

“Ow! I would still like to have my hair intact after this love.”

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” you chuckle nervously, scratching his scalp softly.

“He talks about you a lot, you know.”

Sirius glances up at you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I- we can’t stand each other. We can’t even have a normal conversation before an argument starts.”

“(Y/n), I love you, so when I say this, it’s with all the love in the world- you and James need to get your heads out of your arses and talk about it.”

—

You stand before the boys’ apartment; you raise your knuckles towards the door before pulling back. You’ve been standing here for five minutes- trying to find the courage to speak to your ex-lover. Do you still love him? Of course- you do. Why else would it hurt so much when he goes on these dates? What if he tells you he doesn’t want the same?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door. You rock on your heels, biting your lip nervously.

The door opens, revealing a woman who is the definition of a Vogue magazine model. She has straight blond hair, she definitely seems like she works out, and the band tee she wears- wait a minute.

Your breath hitches once you recognize it; you’ve worn that shirt one too many times after spending the night with James. You can feel the lump in your throat start to form.

“Hey, are you okay?” The blond asks, worry laced in her tone.

“Oh! Sorry, I got the wrong apartment,” you smile tightly, turning to walk away.

Yeah, James Potter definitely moved on, you thought.

DATE TWO (Y/N)

“He’s a good guy! Come on (Y/n), let me set this up!”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for another date- Lils, the last one was a total disaster,” you murmur.

“To be fair, we did warn you that Caleb wasn’t a good idea- plus it’s been five months,” Lilly hums, poking your cheek.

You bat her hand away, sending a playful glare her way, “Fine.”

“You won’t regret it! I promise Mason is worth it!” Lilly squeals, clapping her hands together.”

—

Lilly was right- he’s perfect.

Mason Moriarty has a great job at the ministry that pays him a hefty number of galleons. His smile is one that would make all the girls swoon. He’s the kind of guy who holds the door and respects women.

He made you laugh and paid attention to what you were saying. Mason Moriarty was respectful and made you feel comfortable.

One date turned into two, and two turned into three.

He was perfect- so what was that nagging feeling in your heart?

—

Word spreads fast in the friend group. So it came as no surprise that James got word about you and Mason.

“Who even is that guy- he seems like a tosser,” James grunts, bringing his beer can to his lips. “I mean, she can do so much better!”

Sirius rolls his eyes, putting his book down. He couldn’t get any reading done with James’ constant outbursts.

“He’s a cool dude, he treats our (Y/n/n) well.” Sirius reaches over the coffee table to get himself a can. “At least pretend to be happy for her.”

“I can be happy for her! I just think he isn’t the one for her! The guy’s last name is Moriarty, (Y/n) Moriarty, sounds stupid!” James groans, throwing his head back on the couch.

“Enlighten me then, James- who should she be with then,” Sirius quirks an eyebrow.

“I don’t-” James sighs in frustration, “(Y/n) deserves someone who will love her unconditionally, someone who will cut the crust of her sandwich because she hates the texture. She needs someone who will hold her hand when she sees a pigeon because; for some odd reason, she finds them terrifying. It needs to be someone who will run to the nearest pharmacy to grab medicine when she’s sick because god knows she won’t go to the doctor’s office.” James rants, pulling at his hair.

“And Mason can’t do that?” Sirius pushes, a smirk forming on his lips, one he tries to hide with his hands.

That was the final straw.

“No Padfoot! Moriarty can never love her the way that I do!” James blurts out, throwing his empty can on the floor.

James’ eyes widen in realization, mouth opening, and closing with no words.

“Bingo! What are you going to do about it, Potter?”

“Nothing, there’s no way she still feels the same.”

“Wrong,” Remus waltzed into the room, sitting next to James, “You two are so in love with each other it’s sickening.”

James shakes his head in confusion, his heart racing at the possibility.

“I mean, for fucks sake, Prongs, are you blind?”

“I’m an idiot,” James groans, running his hands down his face. “Fuck, what if I’m too late.”

“I heard from a little birdy, that she cut it off with Mason.” Remus hums, a smile tugging on his lips.

James practically jumps up from his spot, an unsure look on his face.

“Go get your girl James.”

The Reconciliation

You squint your eyes, slipping on your slippers, the constant knocking on your door waking you from your slumber. You pause at the threshold of your bedroom, taking a vase from your desk. Warily, you look into the peephole of your door, sighing in relief when you see James. You open the door, a million thoughts running through your head.

“James, what- it’s two in the morning; what are you doing here?”

“I’m still in love with you,” James rushes out before he chickens out.

Your eyes widen, lips parting, “What-”

“I know this is coming out of nowhere, but I need you to know how I feel. I know it’s selfish, and Mason is in the picture- or not, I don’t know, Remus said he wasn’t. Anyway- I don’t think you ever left my mind (Y/n) from the day we broke up. I felt this void within me. The dates I went on felt wrong- it felt like somehow I was betraying you,” He chuckles breathly. “And when I found out you were starting to date, I was jealous- god that sounds immature. The point is, I thought our breakup was for the best- but (Y/n) I think I was just scared that I was falling more in love with you. I still love you, and I don’t know if I’m making a fool- out of myself- but I know I had to try and fight for you.”

“James-” you whisper, your lower lip trembling, tears welling in your eyes, “I love you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, careful with the vase in your hand. “I missed you so much, I know we were never really apart, yet you felt so far away.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” James laughs, his arms find home around your waist.

“We’re fools,” You giggle, “We should have never broken up, I was only kidding myself by thinking I would ever get over you, Jamie.”

“Yeah well, I’m never letting you go now you're stuck with me, sweetheart.” He grins.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Potter,” You hum, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“Not to ruin the moment- but why are you holding a vase?”

You smile sheepishly, “I thought you were some kind of thief.”

“I am- a thief who stole your heart,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“You are so cheesy,” you laugh, tugging him into your apartment and closing the door behind you. You place the vase on a nearby table before turning to face James again.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do- now come over here and kiss me.” You grin, rocking on your heels.

He beams, placing his hands on each side of your face, pressing his lips against yours.

Mission Accomplished

Fin

——-

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter #james potter angst #mauraders #harry potter #James #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #mauraders era

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holllandtrash · 1 year

Text

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 1)

paring: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 1 in the 6 to 1 series

being charles' little sister has its perks, such as traveling to the races, meeting a variety of people and becoming friends with the drivers. but when one driver is offended by your personal ranking, he makes it his mission to change your mind

word count: 5.7k tags: established friendships, minor social media au aspects, its just a soft start to a whirlwind series also poorly translated Italian and French, this whole series is a friends to lovers trope

Of course you had favourites.

Charles was number one, he was your brother.

Carlos next, obviously. You were a Ferrari fan through and through.

Daniel Ricciardo was still a favourite, reserve driver or not, you made your support for Daniel very clear and would post photos of yourself in his merch any chance you got.

And then Pierre. He was Charles' best friend, someone you had also known for years. He spent Christmases with you, countless birthdays, everything. You wanted to see him succeed.

“I’m fifth?” Lando couldn’t believe your ranking and how low he was. He hit his hand on the table, causing your glass of water to shake. “Fifth? You’re joking.”

You pondered it for a second before nodding your head. Lando took a sigh of relief, thinking he made it past number five in your standings.

“You’re right,” you said. “I am joking. You’re sixth. I’ve kind of been rooting for Lance recently. The Canadian’s wormed his way into my heart.”

Lando leaned back in his chair looking absolutely defeated. “Unbelievable,” he huffed out, crossing his arms across his chest. The pout that played on his lips made him look about four years younger and it only made you laugh as you reached across the table and ruffled his hair playfully.

“Relax, Norris, at least you’re in the top ten.”

“But six!” He exclaimed. “Danny’s not even driving.”

You shrugged and took another sip of your water, “Still love him.”

“Is that why you’re wearing DR3 merch instead of mine?”

You looked down. You were in fact wearing a t-shirt from Daniel’s newest collection that recently dropped. He even had the heart to sign the back for you before personally delivering it.

“I never wear your merch.”

“Because you hate me.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re dramatic.”

You jumped when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You barely had time to glance up before your sunglasses were pulled from your head and the perpetrator, your brother's teammate, slid into the chair next to Lando.

“Give them back,” you reached for the glasses but Carlos only dodged your hand and put the dark shades on his own face.

He turned to Lando, a cheesy grin plastered on his face, “How do I look?”

Lando, still grumpy, said, “Like someone who doesn’t consider me one of her favourite drivers.”

Carlos had a good laugh at that, “Really, Y/N? He’s not in the top three?”

“Not even in the top five!” Lando shouted, gesturing towards you as you innocently spun your straw around your glass. “Lance bloody Stroll booted me to sixth.”

“He is higher than you in the driver standings.”

“That’s it,” Lando grumbled, standing up from the chair so harsh that it would have fallen backwards if Carlos hadn't caught it. Lando furiously pointed a finger at you and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “I will work my way up to being your favourite driver, mark my words.”

You shrugged again, “You can certainly try.”

Lando proceeded to muter a few choice words under his breath as he stalked off, leaving you and Carlos to burst out laughing.

“Why do you give him such a hard time?” Carlos asked.

“It’s entertaining for me.” You turned your head, just able to see a sliver of Lando before he disappeared into the Paddock crowd. The corner of your lips curled upwards, “And now I want to know what sort of plan he’s going to come up with.”

Your conversation with Lando had slipped from your mind by the end of the race weekend. In fact, you had been so caught up with Charles’ performance on Saturday and Sunday that you weren't thinking about the McLaren driver until he was right in front of you.

You walked behind Charles down the tarmac towards the private jet that would take you two and Arthur back to Monaco. Usually you claimed the seat on the right at the very back of the plane but when you walked in and saw it was taken by the British boy with curls atop his head, you were thrown for a loop.

“Morning,” Lando greeted. He wore a matching jumper and sweats set from his own Quadrant line. On the small table in front of him he pushed forward a small white box as you slowly approached. “For you.”

You shot a glance at Charles, one that basically asked what the hell was Lando doing here. Charles laughed as he searched for his headphones, “We’re all going to the same place.”

“He’s in my seat.”

“This is your seat?” Lando sounded apologetic. You looked back at him and watched as he rushed to collect his things, except for the white box, and he moved to the seat on the other side of the aisle.

You were confused, that’s for damn sure. Lando never just casually caught a ride with your family. But you were also tired and didn’t care too much about his presence as long as he left you alone for the duration of the flight.

You made yourself comfortable in the leather recliner, closing your eyes almost immediately. They would have stayed closed had you not heard Lando obnoxiously clear his throat.

“Lando, if you're trying to move up my driver ranking, this is not the way to do it.”

“Can you just look in the box, please,” Lando sighed. He was leaning over the armrest of his seat, practically falling into the aisle.

A defeated sigh escaped you and you reached for the box, flipping the lid open. If you were being honest with yourself, you had absolutely no idea what was going to be inside. Lando was an enigma. You would have been equally as shocked to see a live frog as you would to see a blade of grass.

But it was neither, thank god. It was a doughnut. And not just any doughnut. It was a filled pastry with a layer of chocolate and cookie crumbles on top, coated with a drizzle of white chocolate. Something that would undoubtedly give you a toothache, but it was mouthwatering nonetheless.

“Chocolate explosion cheesecake doughnut,” Lando explained.

You glanced up at him, eyebrows raised, wondering why he would have bought this for you before the flight this morning.

Lando sighed, as if he was offended you were confused, “You love cheesecake. And chocolate. And doughnuts.” He gestured to the treat, “This is the perfect combination of all three.”

He wasn’t wrong, you did love all three of those things. But how did he know that?

“Thanks,” you offered Lando a smile. “But you didn’t have to-”

“I know, I know, But I passed a bakery this morning after my jog,” Lando explained, waving his hand as if to brush off the gesture like it was nothing. “Just thought you’d like a treat during the flight is all.”

“You know, this isn’t going to make me like you more than Lance.”

Lando’s features fell. Just for a moment, but you caught it. He was hoping this one simple doughnut would push him up your standings and he was very wrong.

“Lance didn’t buy you a doughnut.”

“Lance also didn’t take my seat.”

“I gave it back!” He exclaimed loudly, causing Arthur and Charles to both turn their heads to see what was going on. Lando leaned further across the aisle, lowering his voice. “I gave it back.”

“He finished sixth this weekend.”

“I was struggling with tyre degradation.”

“Not my problem,” you shrugged. To be fair, Lando had a pretty decent weekend, but he still finished below Lance and you were going to hold onto that just because you knew it would get under Lando’s nerves.

“You talk to me more than you talk to Lance.”

“No, you talk to me.”

“I. Bought. You. A. Doughnut.” Lando went back to his strongest argument.

“It’ll take a little more than a pastry to move up the rankings.” You leaned into the aisle as well, catching Charle’s eyes. “Posso spingerlo giù dall'aereo?” Can I push him off the plane?

“No,” Charles chuckled, glancing at Lando who was trying to recall the very minimal Italian that he knew. “Sii gentile con lui” Be nice to him.

“Gentile?” Lando repeated, looking back and forth between you and your brother. It was the only word he could pick up on. “Nice? Did Charles just call me nice? Thank you Charles, I’m trying to do a polite thing for your sister and she’s not being respectful.”

You dropped your face to your hand, “Lo spingerò giù dall'aereo.” I’m going to push him off the plane.

“Y/N don’t do that. Lando, Mate I don’t think bribing Y/N with a doughnut is going to do you any favours,” Charles retorted, still laughing. At this point, the only person not laughing was Lando. “Now put your seatbelts on.”

You and Lando exchanged a similar look, a challenging one. Eyes slightly narrowed, a smirk playing on your lips. He was going to make it his mission to become your favourite driver and you were intent on not letting that happen.

Once you were in the air, Charles got up out of his seat to come and talk to you about plans for dinner this week with your mum. You brought one leg up to your chest as you spoke to your older brother, switching between French and Italian throughout the duration of the conversation. That was common for you two, but you noticed that Lando was watching intensely, probably trying to figure out if you two were talking about him.

Charles noticed too and dipped his head in an attempt to stifle his laughter, “Tu seras sa mort.” You’ll be the death of him.

“Possibly, but that’s what makes this fun,” You swiftly turned your head to face the British driver. “Right?”

Lando held his hands up defensively, “I’m not agreeing with anything you just said. I don’t even know what you said.”

“Then stop trying to eavesdrop,” You stretched your hand out to land a playful hit on his arm. One would have thought you just bruised his bone with the way he reacted, retracting his arm into his chest and inhaling a very dramatic breath. You rolled your eyes, “We weren’t talking about you, by the way. We were talking about plans for dinner.”

“For tonight?” Lando asked, face lighting up immediately. “Perfect. I’m in.”

Charles’ head fell back with laughter as he turned around, leaving you to deal with this conversation on your own.

“No, you idiot,” you stared at him in disbelief. “With our mother, later this week.”

“Oh,” he nodded, poking his tongue out to lick his lips before his eyebrows pinched together, “So what’s happening tonight?”

“Nothing’s happening tonight.”

“So you’re free for me to take you out on a date?”

Charles’ and Arthur’s laughter echoed through the plane and it took everything in you not to laugh as well, but you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. You were also very taken aback by his abruptness of the question, like this was casual, like you guys had hung out outside the paddock before, you hadn’t.

“Lando if this is about my driver ranking-”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” Lando shrugged, but his cheeky grin told you it was. He reached across the aisle and nudged your arm, “Come on, Y/N, let’s do something fun in Monaco.”

When it clicked for all of you that this wasn’t a joke, Charles stood up from his seat, eyes darting back and forth between you and Lando a few times before landing on him, “No, absolutely not. You’re not going on a date with my sister.”

“Don’t think that’s up for you to decide.” Lando looked at you expectantly. His hazel eyes bore into yours and with the way the early morning sunlight flooded through the small windows, he seemed to quite literally be glowing.

You almost said yes because of the way he was looking at you. A hopeful, boyish smile on his lips. Chin rested in his hand so innocently. Head tilted the slightest bit. How could you say no to that?

You had to.

“Lando, I’m not going on a date with you.”

To end the conversation, you found your airpods and pulled out your phone, making yourself look as busy as possible, even if you were just scrolling through different social media platforms. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lando shift in his seat, trying to decide if he should interrupt you or not.

Eventually he decided not to. Probably figuring that asking you out on a date for a second time wouldn’t go over well with you, or with Charles for that matter.

But that didn’t mean he was done trying.

ynleclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 17, 932 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

ynleclerc spanish grand prix but im the only one that looks good

view all 2,301 comments

charles_leclerc i don't like this

carlossainz55 why did you include that one of me

ynleclerc because it made me giggle ynleclerc ti amo❤️

dailyyferrari y/n is really out here giving us the ferrari boys content

hamileclerc okay but can we talk about her style

sunshinemick paddock queen

16paddocks idc what anyone else says i think her and carlos would make the cutest couple

helpmelando charles would never let her date a driver LMAO

------

When you stepped off the plane, Lando was quick to take your bags from you so you didn’t have to carry them to the car that was waiting for you. Charles lightly smacked him upside the head, muttering something under his breath about how Lando wasn’t allowed to hit on his sister.

Lando ignored it, like he ignored most signs and instructions. He waited until getting to the car, making sure to grab the door and hold it open for you.

“Being chivalrous isn’t going to do anything for my driver ranking.”

“I’m just being nice.”

“You have ulterior motives.”

“No,” Lando argued. Your eyebrows pinched together and he changed his answer. “Okay fine, yes I want you to like me more. Let me take you out, Y/N. It’ll be fun.”

It wasn’t like Charles controlled your life, but you did worry about what he would think if you and Lando did go out, even just for an innocent dinner. Lando could sense your hesitation as you glanced at your older brother a few feet away and he just nodded and drummed his fingers against the car window.

“I’ll see you around, then,” taking your silence as an answer. He gave you a gentle smile, one that matched the rest of his soft features before shutting the door.

You didn’t expect to hear from Lando until the next race and honestly, that would have been for the better. That plane ride with him was enough. And him asking you on a date? Where the hell did that come from? You understood that Lando just wanted to move up your personal driver rankings, but you were conflicted about that potentially leading to spending more time with him.

Lando was someone you’ve known for a few years now. You were always friendly in the paddock or any social events, you shared some entertaining banter, but never once did you spend time together in between races.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did like Lando and his company, but similar to Carlos or Daniel, he was a friend. A friend you saw when you watched a grand prix and nothing more. It didn’t make sense to see him on a more regular basis.

Also Charles would kill you if you went on a date with a driver.

Luckily for you, the second you stepped into your flat, all thoughts of the McLaren driver left your mind. You had to unpack, you needed to do laundry, you needed to meal prep for the upcoming week. You’d been gone for four days so god did you need to clean. Basic chores kept you busy for the majority of the day until you found yourself needing to make dinner.

You had just placed a homemade pizza in the oven and licked some excess tomato sauce off your thumb when there was a knock on your door.

This didn’t alarm you. You ordered a lot of packages, you figured this was another one. Or maybe it was one of your friends because they knew you were back home. It wasn’t strange that someone was stopping by.

It was strange that the person on the other side of your door was Lando.

You had half a mind to shut the door in his face.

“I said no date.”

“This isn’t a date!” Lando defended himself, but the single daisy between his fingers told you otherwise. Lando noticed you eyeing it and he held it out towards you, “I passed a shrub of daisies, what was I supposed to do? Not grab you one?”

Reluctantly, you took the flower from him, spinning it between your forefinger and your thumb. Dozens of questions flooded through your mind, but instead of making him stand in your foyer as you pondered which one to ask, you nodded your head to invite him inside.

Lando smiled and shut the door behind him. He had changed out of his jumper from earlier, now in a pair of black joggers and, of course, a Quadrant t-shirt.

You had changed as well, now in a matching cotton pj set that was beige with little red hearts on it. You noticed that Lando’s eyes lingered on your bare legs for longer than he probably should have.

“How’d you know?” You asked.

Lando cleared his throat, “How’d I know what?”

“That I like daisies.”

He shifted onto the balls of his feet, “You have a daisy tattoo.”

Your eyebrows raised due to suspicion, “Not anywhere visible.”

The small flower was inked into your side on your ribcage, just below the curve of your breast. It wasn’t everyday you walked around topless, so you were certainly confused as to how Lando of all people had become aware of it.

Lando knew he had been caught out. He inhaled a sharp breath, quickly trying to figure out how to get out of this grave he had dug for himself.

“Word spreads,” he shrugged.

“Word spreads?” You repeated back to him. You knew exactly what that meant. You pushed on his chest and reached for the handle of the door, practically shoving him out. “Get out of my flat, Lando. And take your fucking daisy.”

You crumpled it between your fingers until the pedals turned to remnants of what it used to be before throwing it in his face. Lando didn’t let you shut the door though, he kept his palm against the surface and pushed it open. You were strong, but nowhere near as strong as a Formula 1 driver.

“Hey, come on,” Lando tried to reason with you. “I’m not the one who talks, Y/N. I didn’t tell anyone, I swear. It’s not my place.”

He leaned against the side of the door, refusing to break your stare until you believed he was telling the truth. You pressed your lips together tightly, telling yourself that Lando was only the middle man in this unfortunate turn of events. You were annoyed, definitely, but you didn’t need to take it out on him.

“I want to know what he said,” you decided, swinging the door open for the second time.

And that’s how you found yourself on the couch with Lando as he relayed to you everything that Pierre had told him.

It was a mistake, honestly. One that you didn’t think you regretted that much, but now you were thinking otherwise.

Last Christmas when Pierre came to visit the Leclerc family, the two of you ended up splitting a bottle of wine, or maybe two, and when the end of the night came, instead of going to his hotel, Pierre came with you back to your flat.

You had known Pierre for years through Charles, but that night there was a magnetic pull that had you craving him. It was probably the wine.

He kissed you, something that you shouldn't have let happen but you were giddy and drunk and it was the holidays so all logic slipped from mind. Pierre kissed you and for the rest of the night, nothing else seemed to matter.

But when you woke up in your bed the next morning, limbs tangled with his and the sheets, you both agreed that it could never happen again. You also agreed that you would never talk about it. The last thing you needed was Charles’ finding out about a one night stand between his best friend and his sister and neither of you wanted to start any gossip in the paddock.

That’s what you thought, at least. Because apparently Pierre had told Lando every stupid detail about that night, including the tattoo that he had noticed on your side.

“È uno stronzo," He’s an asshole. With your arm resting along the back of the couch, you dropped your face to rest in your hand. Lando knew just enough Italian that he didn't have to ask for a translation. “We agreed not to tell anyone. Who else knows?”

Lando shrugged and usually that was a cop out answer, but you believed that he truly didn’t know. “I don’t think he told Carlos. Danny might know. Yuki? I don’t know, Y/N, I’m sorry. Pierre loves to talk.”

“I just don’t want this to get back to Charles.”

He nodded, understanding where you were coming from, “If it helps, I haven’t told anyone.”

You couldn’t help but glare at him, “What do you want? An award for doing the bare fucking minimum? You could have told Pierre to not talk about me.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Lando cowered back into his corner of the couch. He felt bad about this situation, but you also sort of intimidated him. He didn’t know how to help. It just seemed like everything he said or did made it a little bit worse.

He was so tense that when the timer on your oven went off, he flinched in response.

You slid off the couch and headed towards the kitchen. When you put the pizza on a cooling rack, you glanced over your shoulder to catch a peak at Lando, only to find him watching you. You nodded your head towards the plate in your hand, “Did you want some?”

“Of what?”

He didn’t think sometimes. “Lando, what the hell does it smell like in here?”

“Piz- oh, yeah sure I’d love a slice,” his boyish grin returned and you grabbed a second plate out for him. You also grabbed a bottle of wine from the cart in the corner, but Lando’s voice stopped you from popping out the cork. “Oh I’m okay, I don’t actually drink wine.”

You had nothing against drinking alone, but for reasons you couldn’t really explain, it felt wrong to pour yourself a glass of wine and enjoy it in Lando’s presence.

So you opted for a few bottles of Perrier instead. You balanced the plates on one arm and carried the sparkling water in your hand. When you came back to the couch, Lando was quick to take the dishes from you so you could get comfortable in your spot.

He took a bite of the pizza and immediately sucked in a breath as if that would help cool it down. You wanted to roll your eyes at how daft he could be sometimes. It was a wonder how this man could memorise over twenty different track layouts and withstand up to 5G, but couldn’t remember to let his food cool down before eating.

Lando must have noticed you smiling to yourself and he took a sip of water before asking about it, “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” you were still smiling, “You’re just funny, is all.”

“I’m funny?” He repeated, mirroring your expression as he saw it as a compliment. The slightest bit of an ego boost did wonders for his mood. “Why thank you.”

You were starting to learn which battles to pick with Lando. Correcting him about your concerns regarding his mentality was not one of them.

“So you came over here for what reason?” You asked, eyeing the crumbled up flower near your front door.

“For a date,” Lando answered like it was the easiest question in the world. “I just assumed you had to say no earlier, for Charles’ sake.”

You scoffed, “I said no because I didn’t want to go on a date with you.”

“So what are we doing right now?”

He had you there.

You may not have gone out and done something ‘fun’ but you did invite him inside and now you were sharing a few slices of homemade pizza. You almost opened a bottle of wine.

“This isn’t a date,” it was a piss poor argument, but it was all you could come up with.

“Agree to disagree,” Lando looked pleased with himself. “And I don’t see Lance showing up at your door, with a flower, wanting to hang out with you.”

“Maybe because Lance lives in Montreal,” you retorted. “And he also has a girlfriend.”

“So why do you like him more than me?” Lando raised his voice but there was still a lingering playful understone.

“He’s a better driver,” you took another bite of pizza, ignoring the way Lando was staring at you like you offended the last five generations of his family. When you finally looked up, you rolled your eyes at his dumbstruck expression, covering your mouth with your hand as you finished chewing. “Lando, he’s literally sitting at ninth in the driver standings. Your tenth. Maybe get some points and I’ll like you more.”

“You’re harsh,” Lando shook his head at your words as he stood up from the couch. For a second you wondered where he was going but he just pointed at the kitchen, “Mind if I grab another slice?”

“Oh, you like my cooking?”

“I do, actually,” Lando chuckled. He put a few more slices on his plate. “You’ve got some good culinary skills. This crust?” He lifted his fingers to his lips, kissing the tip of them to express his appreciation for your homemade pizza. “You should open up a restaurant.”

Your head dipped backwards as you laughed, “You’ve tried one meal. I could be absolute shit at making everything else.”

“I don’t believe that,” Lando shook his head as he returned to the couch. This time when he sat down, you noticed he positioned himself more towards you than forwards.

“Why not?”

Lando hesitated, taking a breath before answering, “I don’t think it's possible for you to be shit at anything. If you have the same determination as Charles, which I think you do, it’s probably safe to say that when you put your mind to something, you excel.”

It was a nice compliment, but you didn’t let his words affect you the way he would have hoped.

“You’re still sixth in my ranking.”

“For now.”

“Forever.”

Lando opened his mouth only for his jaw to immediately close. You straightened up and nudged his foot with yours.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Whatever you were about to say”

“I forgot,” Lando shrugged it off, but you knew he was lying. He had a horrible poker face. It also didn’t help that he quickly scarfed down the rest of his pizza and stood up, avoiding this conversation.

You watched as he walked to the kitchen and turned the tap on to start washing the single dish he used. You braced your arm over the back of the couch, “Just leave it, I can clean it later.”

His jaw dropped in fake astonishment, “Leave it? I was raised better than that. You fed me, I can clean. Equal trade.”

“Lando-

“Shut up Y/N, let me do the dishes.” He then moved to grab a few cutting boards and other utensils you used and left out.

You weren’t sure what was going through his mind as he cleaned up your mess. You just watched, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Lando.

This was his first time at your place, so it took a while for him to figure out where you kept your dish rags and soap, but it was entertaining watching as he navigated through your cupboards and drawers.

After a few minutes, he wiped his hands on his pants and made his way towards the back of the couch. You stared up at him, but instantly regretted that as he flicked his hand in front of your face. A few stray drops of water landed on your cheeks and you pushed on his abdomen.

“Oh you asshole,” you wiped your face as Lando only laughed and grabbed your now empty plate. You followed him to the kitchen this time though, nudging your hip against his so he would move out of the way for you to grab a towel.

“You could always hire me as a dishwasher if being a driver doesn’t work out for me,” Lando suggested.

"One, I'm not opening up a restaurant," you started, hearing a scoff from Lando. "Two, hiring you would mean I have to see you all the time."

"That's not so bad."

You didn't answer, relying on your judgmental eyeroll and pursed lips to get the message across. Lando snatched another towel from the drawer and rolled it up, snapping it against your bare forearm.

"Ouch," you hissed at him, grabbing the spot that had just been hit. Now it was Lando's turn to roll his eyes.

He pushed your hand out of the way and brushed his thumb against the faint red mark on your arm that would certainly disappear within the next ten minutes. You may have reacted dramatically.

Okay, you definitely did. You grew up with three older brothers. A little roughhousing was not going to be the end of you. Lando knew this.

"Oh you're fine," he assured you, his fingers lingering on your skin longer than they needed to before he turned back around.

You wiped down the counter and Lando grabbed a few dishes that had been sitting in the drying rack. As he turned around, he placed his hand on your waist to gently move you out of the way so he could put the plates in the cupboard. A much nicer gesture compared to you just pushing against his side earlier.

Even though this was the first time Lando was visiting your flat, you two managed to fall into a pretty good flow as you finished cleaning up your kitchen. What started as just picking up after dinner turned into tidying everything else up.

Conversation flowed as well. He didn’t bring up your driver ranking, he asked what your plans were this week. He asked about any upcoming modelling projects you had lined up. He wanted to know if you’d be at the next race and he seemed excited when your answer was yes.

Before you knew it, almost two hours had passed of the two of you just standing in your kitchen, talking. It was easy to talk to someone who made you laugh every five minutes and Lando just didn’t seem to have an excuse to leave, so he didn’t.

This was the most amount of time you had ever spent with the British driver.

And you didn’t hate it.

It wasn’t until a yawn slipped out as Lando was talking did you both realise what time it was. Lando pulled out his phone at the same time you did. Either you put it on silent and didn’t notice or you had just been too engrossed with Lando and your conversation to notice that Charles had texted you a number of times.

“Everything okay?” Lando asked, noticing your expression.

You briefly skimmed the messages, but then decided you didn’t want to deal with your brother right now, “Yeah just Charles. I’ll call him back in the morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to ignore-”

You raised a hand to stop him mid-apology, “Don’t apologise, really.” You glanced around your pristine kitchen before your eyes landed on his, momentarily asking yourself why you turned him down in the first place. “Tonight was…weirdly fun. Even though you showed up unannounced and I found out Pierre told half the grid that we hooked up.”

Lando clenched his jaw and inhaled a sharp breath, “Yeah, sorry about that. Not about showing up unannounced, I don’t regret that, but about the whole Pierre thing.”

Leave it to Lando to not feel any bit of remorse for crashing your do-nothing plans after you rejected a date with him.

You walked him to the front door and leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, watching to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. He then looked down at the flower right next to his feet.

“Sorry,” you muttered. You could admit you overreacted.

“Don’t be,” Lando shook his head. “I’ll just get you a bouquet next time, it’s probably harder to destroy.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, “Next time?”

Lando tilted his head, that same cheeky grin making a reappearance, “Oh. Yeah. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m still on a mission.” He gestured towards your kitchen. “I can’t believe I cleaned for you and you still like Lance better than me.”

“I mean,” you inhaled a heavy breath. Were you really about to say this? You could already see Lando’s expression turn hopeful and you had to avert your gaze, looking up at the ceiling instead. “It’s probably safe to say that Pierre isn’t on that top five list anymore.”

“He’s bumped down?” Lando asked. You nodded and you could tell how ecstatic he was over this news. “So by default, I’m number 5?”

“Sure, by default you’ve made it into the top five.”

Lando actually fist pumped the air. You rolled your eyes, dragging your hand over your face before reaching for the door. You pulled it open and for the second time tonight, you were pushing him out of your flat.

“Goodnight, Lando.” you went to shut the door, but just like earlier, he stopped it.

He stepped closer, his line of sight trailing upwards, taking his time to really look at all of the details on your face. Like how no matter how hard you were trying to look annoyed, a sliver of a smile still poked through. There was an indent above your right eyebrow, he hadn’t noticed it before and he made a mental note to ask you about it the next time he saw you. He then landed on your eyes and he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling his mouth becoming very dry.

“In all honesty, thanks for inviting me in,” Lando told you. His words sounded genuine. It almost made you forget about his ridiculous move-up-your-ranking operation.

“Yeah, just don’t make a habit of showing up uninvited,” you said.

“No promises.”

He shot you a wink before taking a few steps backwards and away from your flat. You watched for a few seconds, making sure he got into his car safely. Once he turned it on, you shut the door and released a breath you weren’t even aware you had been keeping in.

As you heard him drive away, you ignored an unfamiliar twisting feeling in the pit of your stomach. You also paid no attention to the fact that your flat just seemed so empty without him and almost eerily quiet after his laughter filled up the space for the last few hours. And of course, you refused to let yourself think about what would have happened if you did agree to the date.

But you did ask yourself one question.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

a fun new little lando series (will be about 5-6 parts) can't wait to hear your thoughts

masterlist here part 2 here

#lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

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neverinadream · 3 months

Text

Birdy And Tig

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Summary: You and Christian quickly solve a dilemma after your second daughter is born.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: dad!christian, talks of pregnancy, talks of labour and giving birth, i'm not a midwife or a health professional so some stuff might be wrong, just fluff and bad writing

Notes: i'm clearing out the drafts, or at least trying to, this has been in there since september and it really isn't the best thing i've written because i don't think i can write good fluff anymore. could i have written a bit more? maybe made it better? sure, but here you go. enjoy, i guess. feedback is appreciated

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A midwife sings praise over a scream as you push on another contradiction, but she might as well have been talking gibberish to you, your body far too tired to acknowledge a single thing she said.

"I don't want to do this anymore," you whisper to Christian, your head hiding in the pillow, turning to face him, "can't you just...-" You take a second to catch your breath, waving your hand in the air like it could pluck the words you were trying to say from thin air. "-...can't you just tell them to push her back up, or just pull her out?" A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and Christian reaches to swipe it away with his thumb. "I can't do it!"

"I don't think that's possible," Christian replies, cupping your face tenderly in his palm, "nor do I think that would be safe for either you or the baby." He dips, pressing a kiss against your clammy forehead. "You've got this, okay?" He pulls back, his heart tugging at the uncertainty in your wet eyes. "You're already halfway there," he tightens his grip on your hand, pulling it against his lips and kissing it, "just little bit more-"

"It feels like I'm trying to force a bowling ball through a straw," you stressed, tugging hard on the hospital sheets, and interrupting him to paint a painful picture for Christian's imagination.

"And as painful as that sounds, I know you're strong enough to do this." He looks down at the midwife, giving her an apologetic smile. She returns it, like she was trying to say she had heard worse, before giving him a subtle nod.

"Ready to push again?" You shake your head, biting your bottom lip until a metallic tang coats the inside of your mouth. "I know, baby, I know," he reaches over, prying your bottom lip from between your teeth, "but you've done this before, remember?"

You roll your eyes. It had been over three years since your first child was born, and in between taking her first steps and speaking her first words, you had forgotten all about the pain and the tiredness of giving birth. You wouldn't be clutching the hospital sheets and feeling like you might just pass out every time you were told to push if you had remembered the pain.

No woman would go through this twice if they remembered and the human population would eventually die out.

"And now we have a beautiful, beautiful baby girl..."

"Who didn't have a head the size of a watermelon," you interrupt him, gripping his hand tightly as you feel another contraction coming on. He wraps his free hand around your hands like he was trying to channel more strength into you. "Seriously," you take a deep breath and roll your head back against the uncomfortable pillow, "curse you for being a baby with a big head."

He chuckles, finding comfort knowing you hadn't lost your sense of humour. "I did not have a big head."

"I've seen the photos," you bite back, taking another deep breath, "and your mum has told me things that my ears cannot unhear."

He snorts. "And now mine can't either."

"Alright," the midwife interrupts you both, with a thick Italian accent, a name you had long forgotten, and a comforting smile, "ready to go again?"

You glance across at Christian, adoration in his eyes as he watches you. It almost mirrored the same expression he wore as he watched you walk down the aisle. "Ready to finish this?" He asks, dipping and kissing the back of your joined hands. Fresh tears sit on the corners of your eyes and you have to blink three times to clear them away. He quickly collects them on his thumb and wipes them away. "Let's do this, baby, let's meet our little girl."

Ten tiny, perfect fingers.

Ten tiny, perfect toes.

Christian silently counted each of them as he looked over your shoulder. A few calm shouts and an array of noises coming from outside couldn't distract him from the beauty that was his second-born daughter. "She's perfect," he says in awe, tilting his head to kiss the back of your neck. Thirty-two tiring hours, multiple death threats and nearly a broken hand had gotten you both to this moment. And you had made Christian promise you that you would never have to do it again. "Have you ever seen someone so perfect?"

"Don't let Birdy hear you say that."

He nuzzles his face into you, stifling a laugh. "She'll forgive me when she sees how perfect she is." You stroke your finger delicately along her nose, unable to disagree with him; Birdy was going to love her. "She's really ours?" He asks, almost in disbelief, despite the baby, not even a few hours old, lying in your arms.

"Oh," there's a soft whistling sound as you suck the air in between your teeth, "would now be a bad time to say I slept with the mailman?"

He snorts. "You're not funny."

"I'll stop when you stop laughing."

"I'm not laughing," he nips back, his body softly shaking against yours from the silent laugh that rattled through him.

He takes in her tuft of brown hair, eyes that matched yours, and chubby round cheeks. Fresh tears begin to wet his eyes and he does nothing to stop them. "I'm glad I was here for this one," he says quietly against your ear, stroking his finger calmly along your daughter's cheek. Her cheek twitches and her little mouth scrunches tightly shut.

You turn your head, catching his gaze only for a second. He knows what you're going to say, that he shouldn't be so hard on himself for missing the birth of your first child, that there wasn't anything he could've done, but there will always be a part of him that wishes he had been there.

"She's perfect," he repeats, unable to find a better word to describe her.

"You've said that already," you giggle, welcoming the kiss he leaves on your cheek, before looking back down. But he was right, she was perfect. The perfect combination of both of you. "She doesn't look like a Charlotte, though," you say, a smidgen of disappointment lacing your tired voice. Your bottom lip pushes out. Charlotte had been the name you had settled on seven months into your pregnancy, but looking at her now, it seemed to be the wrong choice. "What are we gonna call her?"

Christian agreed. "What other names did we think of?"

"Daphne?"

He frowns. "Like in Bridgerton?"

"Fine," you sigh, quickly rolling your eyes, "maybe not that then. What about Phoebe?" He snorts, covering his mouth to hide his childish laughter. "What's wrong with-? Oh. P. P. Very mature of you, babe." His laughter dies down but starts up again as a soft laugh squeezes its way past your lips. You had pictured Birdy referring to her baby sister as 'PeePee,' running around the apartment and shouting it at the top of her tiny lungs, following it up with a fit of giggles. "Okay," you shake your head, clearing the thought from your head, "what else?"

"We could always ask Birdy to pick," Christian suggests, yawning into your ear.

"Sure," you nod, "if you want us to be calling her 'bubbles' for the rest of her life."

"Bubbles and Birdy," he snorts, "sounds like the name of a cartoon detective series."

"What about Tigerlily?" You mumble, the name leaving your lips before you can even stop it. He lifts his brows, not entirely opposed to the name. It had been on your 'maybe' list. "Tig for short?" He looks between you and your daughter, letting the name roll around his head until he could find an excuse for why you shouldn't. "It's unusual, I know-"

"Our other daughter is called 'Birdy,' babe," Christian chuckles, nuzzling his face once more into your neck. You knew he was just as tired as you were. "No name is unusual for us."

Tigerlily it was then.

"Birdy and Tig," you smiled, looking back at him, "now that sounds like a detective series."

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