#he chopped up onions when he came over
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Chicken Soup for Carmy
⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ harsh language, sexism and violence in one scene (not from Carmy). Hurt/comfort, fluff.
A/N: I’m literally feral for this man. I’m sick atm and I started thinking about taking care of Carmy while I was making chicken soup. Bonus combo with Carmy protecting you from an asshole customer. Not proofread bc my brain is rotting. Plz be nice this is my first time posting a fic 🥺
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It was cold. You braced yourself against the harsh Chicago wind as you made your way briskly down the street. After a late night phone call from your brother sent you into a spiral, you couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning all night until finally, at 4am, you flung off the covers and got dressed. It wasn’t a surprise that you’d come here. This place consumed all your mind and your heart since you started working here a few months ago. You used your key to unlock the door in the alley, sighing with relief as the warmth of The Beef welcomed you inside. It was quiet, the lights were down, it was peaceful. You slipped off your sneakers trading in your kitchen clogs and tucked your things safely away in your locker. You tied your handkerchief on your head as you moved. It was so comforting, the routine of The Beef’s prep work. You felt so at home, moving from the prep area to the walk in, diligently beginning the tasks that didn’t need to be started for a few more hours. He would understand. You thought to yourself as you began to prepare fresh stock for the day. He was a man after your own heart, your boss, Carmen Berzatto.
Avoidant, chaotically emotional, one wrong thing away from a complete meltdown, that you both disguised as workaholic tendencies. As you finely chopped onions, your mind quieted. Everything was shut out except for the task at hand. Your brother’s angry voice on the phone accusing you: “you never come home! You don’t even care about us! You can’t take come take care of your own mother?!” was drowned out by the rhythmic pound of your knife on the cutting board. You were in the zone.
Until a voice startled you out of your bubble. “Chef?” You jolted, looking up at the man before you. Carmy’s hair was messier than usual, the bags under his eyes were deeper and more purple. His lips were parted with each soft breath he took. He gave you a quizzical look. “What are you doing here?”
“I uh-” your mouth felt dry and you tripped over your words, as usual when he set those intense blue eyes on you. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Carmy nodded, not pushing you any further. All he said before moving toward the office was a simple: “Heard, Chef.”
You watched him go, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the labor of his normally spry step. There was no mistaking it, Carmen was sick. You stared at the office door for a long moment before you made up your mind.
You set a heavy bottomed pot on the stove with some olive oil. Your hands moved with well practiced efficiency as you chopped garlic and onions, celery and carrots. The garlic and onions went in first. Then the celery. A sprig of thyme and a dash of white wine. While that simmered you quickly seared some chicken breast and chopped it into perfectly bite sized pieces. All into the pot with chicken stock and water, tightly covered to develop the flavors. Next came the pasta. You cracked eggs into the well of flour, mixing and kneading until it became a smooth golden dough. You carefully, tenderly rolled the dough and cut it into thick, short noodles. A bath in hot water to cook, then they too joined the pot. In no time at all, you were ladling a generous portion into a bowl. You set a toasted piece of chibatta on the side, grabbed a spoon, and took a deep breath in an attempt to settle your nerves. Softly, you knocked on the office door.
“Yeah?” His voice responded.
“Chef?” You entered, nervous. Words failing you as they so often did in his presence, you set the bowl before him. Carmy’s eyes widened. The aroma made his mouth water. He looked to you, gaze softening. “You made me chicken soup?”
Your cheeks grew warm. “Y-yeah, I mean chicken soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”
Carmy couldn’t believe you. You noticed? He smiled at you. You were so beautiful. You were always so confident and sure on the line, delegating with efficiency, respect, and authority. He had hired you the second you stepped into The Beef. Your resume was impressive but there was something in the way you carried yourself that truly earned the golden reputation you had in the culinary industry. But you were different with him, in the occasional moments like this where it was just you and him. Shy, almost bashful, gentle, and soft. He loved it. He wanted more of it. He lifted the spoon, bringing a bite to his lips.
“Gotta get a little of everything.” You muttered, eagerly awaiting his response.
Carmy shot you a sideways smile. It was good. No, it was better than good. The warm broth slid down his throat and each bite exploded with a depth of flavor he couldn’t believe. It was pure comfort. It reminded him of being a little kid staying home sick from school. Curled up on the couch while Jerry Springer played, eating crackers and ginger ale until his mom would bring a bowl of chicken noodle soup. But this soup, your soup, was more than that. People always talk about cooking with love but he swore he could taste it. Each ingredient had been so carefully handled. Perfectly chopped vegetables, moist and flavorful chicken. The warm feeling in his chest grew as he inspected the bowl.
“Did uh, did you make this pasta fresh?” He asked, eyeing you.
“Yeah, it’s better that way.” You blushed.
“Thank you, chef.” He said. “It’s really, really good.” Carmy looked down, suddenly feeling heavy. The fear of closeness set into him and all he could think about was how he’d fuck this up. “You-you didn’t have to make this for me.”
“Oh, it’s okay!” You insisted. “It was no big deal.” You began to leave, giving him one last truthful smile. “I like taking care of you.”
“I like taking care of you.” Your words rattled through Carmy’s mind all day. Throughout all of lunch, prep, and dinner he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. The soup you had made was the first thing he’d eaten in too long. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him and you’d just done it because you noticed he wasn’t feeling well. No motive, no games, just tender love and concern.
Love.
Carmy shook his head to try and shake the thought from his mind. No, no, no there was no way you actually cared about him. Not like that. You were just being nice.
That’s just who you are; nice. You were always so kind. The way you’d help Marcus workshop pastries, the way you’d make Tina laugh and listen to her talk about whatever trouble Louis had gotten in, how you’d encourage Sydney and remind her that she can do this. Even the way you’d throw snark right back at Richie or how’d you’d always set aside a portion of Family for Fak and Sugar, even Pete. You were always thinking of others. Carmy wasn’t special.
Yeah. Not special.
Carmy insisted the thought as he scrubbed the grill. Not special. Not special. Not special.
“Carmy?” There you were. You were always there. You had a thick denim jacket on, bag on your shoulder, knit beanie pulled down over your hair. Your brow furrowed at the sight of him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Carmy shook his head. “I’m fine… you uh- you heading out?”
You shrugged, hoisting your bag a little higher on your shoulder and eyeing him skeptically. “Yeah. Are you?”
“Yeah, in a bit.”
You chuckled, more exasperated than humorous. “No.”
“What?” Carmy asked, confused.
“No, you’re leaving too.” You insisted. You were feeling bold. Months of long looks and his hand on your lower back every time he passed you had culminated tonight.
You had taken over the front for Richie while he ducked out to take a call from his daughter. You’d insisted. It was slammed for dinner but everything was going fairly smooth until an irate customer approached you.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He’d asked, slamming his plate onto the counter.
“Excuse me?”
“I mean are you retarded or something?” He continued. You were stunned into silence. You had never had anyone speak to you like that. “How hard is it to make a fucking sandwich? I know your tits are bigger than your brain but Jesus fucking Christ it’s not hard!”
“I-I…” you were shaking. “I’m sorry that you’re not satisfied, sir. If you like, we can-”
“Not satisfied?!” He screamed. “How can I be satisfied with this piece of shit!”
He hurled the sandwich at you. It hit you in the chest, toppings and sauce splattering everywhere. Before you even knew what was happening, a blur of messy curls shot past you. Carmy launched over the counter, tackling the man. His fist collided with the man’s face over and over while Richie and Fak rushed after him. There was a cacophony of yells as Richie pulled Carmy back. “Get your girl!” Richie yelled. “Cousin! Go get your girl!”
Fak and Richie dragged the man out and threw him into the street. Carmy’s hands grasped your cheeks.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He wiped the sauce splatters from your brow. “Look at me.”
Carmy burned with anger as he watched you shake. Your white shirt and blue apron were covered in the sandwich. He imagined what you would do for him if he was in your position. How you’d care for him, how you’d tend to him… so he tried to do what you would. Gently he guided you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist. He practically carried you to his office where he sat you on the couch and quickly went to grab a clean shirt from his own locker. You were in the same place he left you when he returned. Carmy knelt before you, taking your face in his hands once more.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Tears welled in your eyes and you collapsed into his arms. He smoothed his hand over you back, repeating “it’s okay” over and over again. He felt like he was on fire. The feeling of you clinging to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, the smell of you, how you fit in his arms… it was too much. He wanted to run away and never speak to you again. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to find the piece of shit that yelled at you and rip him to pieces. He wanted your chicken soup every time he was sick.
All those feelings were closing in on Carmy once again as he stared at you across the kitchen. You still had his t shirt on. You were looking at him expectantly.
“Sorry, uh… what did you say?” Carmy’s voice was softer than he expected.
“I said I’ll walk home with you.”
“Oh, no that’s okay. Ive got to-“
“Carmy,” you stepped closer. Your voice was firm but so tender. “You need to get some rest. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer.”
He couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Alright…” he conceded.
The two of you braced yourselves against the cold and hurried down the sidewalk side by side. You argued about who would walk who home. Carmy insisted on walking you to your apartment but you protested on the grounds that he’d just go back to the restaurant once he dropped you off.
“Fine,” you gave in. “But you have to call me when you get to your place so I know you made it home!”
Carmy looked at the ground, smiling. The warmth in his chest from your soup was steadily turning into a molten pool of lava.
“Heard.” He grinned. You wanted to know he’d made it home. You wanted to make sure he rested. I like taking care of you.
“Well, I’m just up here.” Your voice stopped his thoughts from spiraling before it could even start. Carmy’s brow furrowed. “What?” You asked, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanor.
“You live over there?”
“Yeah? Like a block down?”
There was a beat of silence before Carmy let out a breathy laugh. “I live right there.” He pointed to the building on the other side of the street.
“No shit!” You laughed in earnest. Your hand came to rest on his arm. “Guess I’m gonna be walking you home more often.”
Carmy’s entire body was on fire. He could imagine the tingle of your soft hand on his skin through all the layers of clothing. He wanted to hold you close again like in his office, but this time you wouldn’t be crying. A deep pit opened in his stomach. How long before he made you cry? How long before he fucked it all up? Until you hated him and quit the restaurant and everything fell apart because he-
“Hey,” your voice. Always your voice that brought him back. When he looked over at you it was like everything but your face faded into a blurry background. You were all Carmy could see. “Do you want to come to mine? I haven’t eaten and I KNOW you haven’t either.”
Carmy’s heart fluttered. “O-okay.” He started, his confidence rising when he noticed your hand was still in his arm. “Only if you let me cook you something.”
“Ooh,” you smiled. “I’d never turn that down!”
Carmy chuckled, feeling lighter for the first time in years as he walked so close beside you that your shoulders brushed. “It won’t be as good as your chicken soup.”
#the bear#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy x fem!reader#hurt/comfort#sickfic#carmen berzatto fluff
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Simmer #5
CH5. Wake 'n' Bake | The Menu
[4.9K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
“Well, you don’t know what we can find. Why don’t you come with me, little girl? On a magic carpet ride.”
The diner was quiet and the radio was louder than usual, lilting through the kitchen and between the empty tables. It was a too hot Sunday, with most of the usual clientele swapping leather booths for loungers by the community pool. Only Mr Creel sat in his usual stool by the bar, parked perfectly underneath the TV screen that was playing the same old western movie that came on every day at three o’clock. Jonathan was manning the counter, pouring the old man refills when he grumbled, whistling as he went.
Everyone else had either gone home earlier or was preparing for the night shift that started at eight that evening. The diner was too hot, the old AC barely keeping up, blowing out a whisper of cool air that you and Jonathan had taken turns standing under, watching the glass door for any signs of life out on the street.
None came.
So you’d long taken off your apron and after some internal arguing with yourself, you had plucked up the courage to push the doors to the kitchen open. There wasn’t much happening there either. Eddie was the only chef in, clock watching until there was a customer to feed or for when Argyle would arrive to take over the next shift.
And now? Well, now you think you were just annoying him. But he was allowing it, and that was something.
“And what’s that?” You asked for the fourth time.
You were hunkered down on the stool you’d dragged over to Eddie’s station, elbows on the stainless steel and your cheeks squished between your hands as you watched the boy work. He’d told you and Jonathan he’d made some lunch, and after some back and forth (Eddie argued enough until Jonathan gave in), Eddie was making some ramen.
“It’s gochujang,” Eddie mumbled back. He was too busy concentrating as he tapped a teaspoon of the red paste into the pot on the stove. He was more relaxed than you’d seen him, with no big orders to cook, he’d been humming along to the radio, his curls knotted on the top of his head to keep himself cool. He’d merely smiled when you plopped yourself down at his table. “And if you ask me what something is again, m’gonna put you in this pot too.”
You didn’t take offence, not anymore. You scrunched your face at him. “Mean,” you said. “When’s it ready? It smells real good.”
“Soon. And I’m not mean,” he grumbled back, tossing some ramen noodles into the pot that had been ready to overspill with bubbles. “You’re annoying.”
You gasped, all faux dramatics. “And he’s rude too,” you told no one. You grinned when Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head, but when he bent over to chop up some spring onion at a scarily fast speed, you saw him smile. “Can I do anything?”
“You could get us some drinks,” Eddie suggested and he peered out of the hatch at the empty tables. Mr Creel glared back. “Seeing as you know, you’re not doing anything. At all.”
You huffed but there was a laugh under it that Eddie was beginning to recognise. He raised his brows at you as you let your sneakers slap onto the floor, hands pushed to the worktop as if getting up was an awfully exhausting thing. “I suppose I could manage that,” you told him wistfully. “If you’ll cope without my help for five minutes.”
Eddie snorted, stirring a delicious smelling broth he had simmering in another pot. He levelled you with a stare that a month ago, would’ve made your stomach churn with nerves. “I’ll try,” he played along. “I’ll tell Jim it was your fault if the kitchen burns down though.”
“Snitch. Coke?” You asked him as you made your way to the door.
“Just the one line, sweetheart, I’m driving,” Eddie smirked back.
He had an adorable habit of letting his head tilt to the side when he joked with you, as rare as it sometimes could still be. Dimples in both cheeks, stray curls over those big eyes, thick lashes that he liked to bat at you when he thought he was being real funny. It was becoming a problem.
“You’re hilarious,” you told him flatly from the other side of the hatch, shooting some soda from the gun into a glass for him. “Jonathan, coke?” You called to the other boy from across the diner, holding up an empty glass for him too.
“Shhh!” Mr Creel hissed at you, teeth bared, brows furrowed and you grimaced back, a smile that wasn’t customer service worthy but you’d long learnt to stay away from him.
“God, stop annoying the customers,” Eddie told you when you came back in holding two pints of coke, he was grinning as he ladled your lunch into a big blue bowl, letting his eyes settle on you as you passed him his drink.
“Don’t tell Jim,” you joked, but the humour in your voice fell flat as you watched Eddie bring the glass to his lips and gulp the fizz down.
His neck bobbed as he swallowed, chin tilting up and back as he led his eyes flutter close and you could help but stare at the line of his jaw, the up and down of his Adam’s apple, the push of his lips against the cup. Your mouth felt dry, your head a little empty and when he opened his eyes and put the empty glass down, you were still staring.
“What?” Eddie was staring back.
You shook your head, words unable to form. You stuttered and stammered and shrugged your shoulders, gripping tightly to your own glass. “Nothing,” you finally managed. “What?”
“What?” Eddie squinted at you.
“What?” You asked again, before you could help yourself and you realised too late that you’d asked him a question there wasn’t even an answer to. “Shit.”
The corner of the boy’s mouth lifted and he looked at you, amused, if not a little concerned. “Okay,” he drawled, sliding your lunch over to you. “Here, eat. Lack of good food must be makin’ you loopy or somethin’, christ.”
So you ate in silence, sitting across from Eddie and exchanging shy smiles as he watched you hum at each flavour, nodding at Jonathan when he slapped him on the back in thanks, taking his own bowl outside so he could smoke at the same time. It was a new kind of friendship that still made you nervous, too aware when Eddie looked at you - like, really looked at you. Eyes earnerst, watching, gauging what you liked and what you didn’t. He knew that a scrunch of your nose meant you were unsure, a little taptaptap of your feet on the stool meant you loved it.
He still made you shy, even though you spoke more. Stomach dipping and somersaulting when he called your name out of the hatch, some kind of plate made up for you, grouching good naturedly about how you needed to stop skipping meals. It made your heart jolt when he got too close, when fingers brushed as he passed you a bowl of fruit, a sandwich you could inhale between serving tables.
But then again, maybe that wasn’t nerves. Maybe that was just the crush you were telling yourself you didn’t have.
It was becoming harder to lie.
“Good?” Eddie asked like always, letting his foot kick gently against yours. He’d finished his own bowl and was watching you with a fond look on his face as you wrestled with the last few noodles.
You nodded and hummed happily, “mhmm. Could’ve done with some more salt though.”
Eddie did a double take, lips parted to argue because he knew that broth was damn perfect, before he realised you were joking. He narrowed his eyes at your grin, tried to hide his own smile when you laughed.
“Oh, she’s actin’ real cute today, huh?” He snarked but everything about him told you he thought you were hilarious. He took your empty bowl from you, poked at your shoulder with a chopstick. “The self proclaimed crybaby s’gettin’ bold.”
It was a meaner type of teasing that you’d grown used to, but still, you wrinkled your nose at the boy as your cheeks burned, head ducking down at the memories of your teary eyed encounters with certain customers. You heard Eddie laugh as he dumped the bowls in the sink, but it wasn’t a cruel sound at all. And when you lifted your chin back up from your chest, he was back on the other side of the work station, elbows on the stainless steel and leaning over to you. Close. Closer than before.
You blinked and Eddie smiled, a lazy, knowing thing, his eyes darting over your face like he was able to read you. Maybe he could. “There she is,” he murmured softly. “Shy thing.”
“Oh my god,” you tried to joke weakly, your voice a soft, embarrassed drawl. “Stop.”
It made Eddie laugh, a wide grin pushing at his cheeks until the dimples you rarely got to see appeared. You wanted to push a finger to one, to see if the tip of it would fit perfectly into the dip. You sat on your hands instead.
“What?” The boy asked. “She’s got no jokes now?” But he smiled a little softer and went back to preparing the dough for tomorrow’s rolls, not saying anything else when you leaned back over the counter to watch. If you’d looked up, taken your eyes off the way his big hands kneaded at the sticky mess, you’d have caught the boy watching you, still smiling. Awfully fond.
—————
“Hey,” you interrupted a while later, once Robin had arrived to take over you shift, once Argyle was throwing some burgers on the grill for the customers that had finally shown up. “What’re you doing tonight?”
Eddie looked a little startled as he closed over his locker, chef whites in a bundle in his bag, ready for washing. He blinked at you, pretty, pouted lips parted as he wondered where this conversation would lead. “Uhh, I- I dunno. Probably gonna go home, roll a joint and wait for another day in this shithole to start. Why?”
You wondered if Eddie could hear your heartbeat. ‘Cause it echoed in your ears, inside your head. A thud that made your mouth feel a little dry and suddenly the bravery you’d felt when asking that question melted away with the boy’s gaze on you. You weren’t sure what you’d planned to ask. Maybe if he knew of any good films to rent. Maybe if there was a nice park to explore. Maybe if he’d want to hang out—
“That sounds like a really good night,” you said instead, a nervous laugh following your words and Eddie’s brows shot up in surprise.
“You smoke?” He asked in disbelief.
You shrugged, leaning back against your locker as you tried not to sound completely uncool. “Kinda? Not really. I don’t like to smoke it but- but I’d sometimes, you know, bake some brownies or something. I haven’t done it in a while, but—” you wrinkled your nose. “—moving to a new city really makes you wanna just… get really fucking high.”
Eddie was laughing and nodding, beaming at you with a pink flush covering his cheeks. You watched him swallow hard and then gesture to the door. He almost couldn’t meet your eyes when he said, “d’you, uh, wanna come hang out? Smoke with me?”
It took Eddie a whole ten minutes to drive to his house. A trailer that was tucked into the back of the park you passed every day. You shot him a look when he parked up and he rolled his eyes, like he knew what you were about to say.
“You drove me all the way home that day, when you live, like, seconds away from—“
“Oh, shut up,” he told you, scrunching his face. “It was a fuckin’ tsunami that day. You weren’t walkin’ anywhere.” He nipped his fingers playfully at your knee as he bent over to snatch his rucksack from the footwell. When he sat back up, he was too close. You held your breath. “Besides, Wayne told me I had to, remember?”
It was your turn to roll your eyes then, shoving at his shoulder as he cackled. “God, you’re such a gentleman.”
He was still laughing as he jumped out the van, surprising you as he appeared at your door to open it as you busied yourself with gathering your bag and jacket. Eddie waved his hand in a dramatic gesture as you got out, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I’m gentlemanly enough to be sharing my weed with you, sweetheart, don’t put me down too much.”
It made you soften and you followed him to his front door, the trailer humming from a generator you couldn’t see. “Thank you,” you told him shyly. “For this. For the invite.” Somewhere in an ugly part of your head, was an even uglier voice that was telling you you’d made him feel bad enough that he had to invite you. That he felt sorry for you.
You told it to shut up.
But Eddie turned the key and looked back at you over his shoulder, his eyes soft. “S’alright. What’re friends for?”
You blinked, unable to help the smile that spread across your lips. Your cheeks ached with it. “We’re friends, huh?”
Eddie walked into the trailer and waited for you to follow. “I know,” he drawled dramatically. “I don’t know how it happened either.” He was grinning, an awfully pretty thing.
You didn’t know what to say, or do, for that matter. This felt close to flirting, something that made that horrible crush you had rear up in interest, it’s heart pounding. But maybe that was just your own.
“Here,” Eddie gestured to a small dining booth, a c-shaped bench around a little table. He cleared a pile of laundry from it and looked flustered as he decided where to put it. It got thrown onto an armchair in the corner. “Sit down, you want a drink?”
That’s where you sat with a can of soda, watching with a stuck laugh in your throat as Eddie upended his tiny kitchen, looking for the bag of flour he insisted he had. “I swear, it’s in here,” he told you, holding various jars of spices and cake moulds. “What the fuck?”
“You’re supposed to be a chef, Eddie.”
“I know,” the boy wailed mournfully, swearing when he dropped a whole tub of dried fruit, chocolate sprinkles and vanilla pods. “Shit, kid. Looks like you’re gonna have to be a big girl and smoke up.”
He turned, raising his eyebrows at you like a challenge. You huffed, tipping your head back so he wouldn’t see the panic in your eyes. “Fine.”
And that’s how you ended up in Eddie’s bedroom, a space filled mostly with his double bed, a glaringly personal thing that you felt like you couldn't even look at. But he blushed and spread back the unmade sheets, fluffing up his pillows before he told you to make yourself at home. So you perched on the edge and toed your sneakers off, watching as Eddie flitted around his room, kicking things under the bed as he went, pushing cook books and comics back onto his shelves. Then he plopped himself down beside you, knees almost knocking, an old tin lunch-box on his lap. He flipped the lid and grinned as he produced an already rolled joint, wagging it in front of your face.
“A chef is always prepped,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“You’re a dork,” you whispered back but you leaned into his pillows as he brought it to his lips.
A lighter flickered, a flame lighting up his face in amber just for a second or two, and then he was blowing a cloud out towards his open window. You watched Eddie’s eyes shutter closed, pretty lashes fanning over his cheeks and his lips hung open for a second or two, letting out a sigh along with blue-grey smoke. He let his shoulders drop, his head roll. Melting, like butter in the heatwave.
Then, “here, have at it, sweetheart.” Eddie handed you the joint, careful that you didn’t burn yourself on the glowing ash. He watched you take it dubiously, eyeing it with caution as you prepared yourself to bring it to your lips. You cringed a little, inhaling too sharp, too quick, coughing it all back out before you could even inhale it properly.
You were mortified, coughing into your hand as you handed the joint back to Eddie blindly, eyes tearing up, blurring him and his room. He took it quick, making sympathetic noises as he rubbed his other hand down your spine. He waited until you wiped at your eyes, until you managed to catch your breath. “You alright?”
You wanted the ground to swallow you. “Mhmm,” you managed, keeping the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes, just so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “Sorry.”
“Nah,” Eddie said quietly, voice soft. “None of that, c’mon. You want another drink?”
You ignored him, reaching for the smoke instead, insistent on showing him you weren’t a complete loser. But Eddie tsked and held it out of your reach, frowning at you with concern. You wanted to tell him you’d almost missed that stitch between his brows. “Hey, woah, slow down, yeah?” Eddie knocked a hand into your knee, a comforting touch that didn’t push either of your boundaries. Yet. “You sure you wanna smoke? I can run back to Jim’s, see if I can smuggle some flour and we can make brow—”
You shook your head emphatically, not wanting to be any sort of annoyance. “No, no, it’s fine. I can try again.”
You weren’t sure if it was the setting sun that was coming through Eddie’s window that was turning his face fuschia, or if he was suddenly blushing something furious. It took him a second or two to meet your gaze and when he did, you saw a shyness there you’d never really seen before. Eddie was blushing.
“I could, uh,” the boy cleared his throat noisily, awkward and fumbling. He gestured to the joint he still held, to you, to himself. “I could, I could help. I could help you. You know?” He frowned at himself, annoyed at his own stuttering.
You frowned too, confused. “No?” You replied, unsure. Your hands were fisted in his sheets, a nervous reaction.
“Shotgun. I could, well— I could shotgun you.”
“Oh.”
The room suddenly felt infinitely smaller. Warm and intimate, soft with the last of the sunlight, dust motes floating in the rays that came through slats of the blinds. You were on Eddie Munson’s bed. With Eddie Munson. You sucked in a breath. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Eddie seemed as surprised as you were at your answer but you nodded firmly, keeping your gaze on his, your chin lifted in a boldness you so rarely felt. So Eddie nodded too. “Right. Um, yeah. Just— c’mere.”
It was a clumsy thing, the way you both shuffled closer, the mattress dipping, sheets rippling. You moved until your knees knocked against Eddie’s and he was watching you so carefully, cautious enough that you felt too shy, a burning in your chest that spread up across your neck, your face. Eddie was holding the joint out to the side, the smoke being drawn to the open window and you looked back and forth between the cigarette and the boy.
“Done this before?” Eddie asked you quietly.
It was suddenly silent in the trailer, in the whole park. Fuck, Hawkins had fallen asleep, you were sure of it, because looking at Eddie this close, you couldn’t hear the way the generators hummed, you couldn’t hear the crickets or cicadas, no car engines or muffled televisions. You could hear Eddie breathe though, normal enough before it hitched a little and he had to exhale that little bit heavier - like he was nervous too.
You shook your head and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, chasing the taste of the orange soda you’d drank at the kitchen table. “No, never like this. I— I know what to do though.” You sounded so naïve, small and a little silly, but Eddie smiled and nodded encouragingly.
“Atta’ girl,” he murmured and then he was bringing the joint back to his lips. He spoke around it, muffled. “Ready, yeah?”
You watched the way his cheeks hollowed out, how his gaze got a little heavier even though he kept looking at you. And this time, instead of blowing the smoke out to the window, he leaned in, one hand holding the joint away from you both, the other gesturing for you to come closer. You obeyed, moving forward with your heart lodged in your throat. You moved until Eddie’s fingertips met your jaw, skimming over the skin there and he tapped gently with his thumb.
His gaze was lowered, lashes fanning out over his cheeks as he leaned in closer still, eyes searching yours for some kind of hesitation, a sign that you’d maybe changed your mind. And when he found none, he coaxed you a little further until his nose bumped yours and you gasped, lips parted and waiting. The boy opened his mouth, just barely, smoke slipping from between his lips and he gently blew it into yours. You didn’t realise how his hand had fallen to your neck, fingers curling around the sides of it, the cool metal of his rings on your overheated skin and the blunt scratch of his nails in your hair.
You inhaled, a shuddering breath, shaky from how close the boy was - nothing to do with the weed. Eddie’s hand on your throat made you feel higher than anything else had before. And when there was no smoke left, when the last of it had floated up towards the ceiling and had turned into wisps in the sunlight, neither of you moved. You were still close enough that your nose bumped his when you tilted your head and you could see the freckles on the bridge of it, the tiny silver coloured scar at the end of his right brow. You wondered what Eddie could see when he looked at you, if he’d find your imperfections, if he’d find them as pretty as you did his.
You watched as his eyes looked into your own, unabashed and completely shameless, like another hit of the joint made him a bit more bold than before. Maybe it had, because you were feeling fuzzy, a warm, heavy feeling pulling you into the mattress, into Eddie.
Your forehead touched his.
His thumb was on your jaw, tucked into the space underneath your ear and it was pressed there like he meant it. Like he wanted you to feel it and god, you did. You did. His eyes wandered, flicking from yours to your lips and back again, warmer than ever, a honey colour in the setting sun. You wondered what you both must’ve looked like, sitting cross legged and knees knocking on Eddie’s unmade bed, heads bent together like you were sharing secrets, like you were going to share more.
The boy swallowed harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing and his stare on your mouth and it all made you feel so heavy and warm and lightheaded at once. You weren’t sure if it was the weed, you weren’t sure if it was Eddie.
“Your eyes are really pretty,” he whispered and he sucked in a breath when your idle hands found his bare knees through the rips in his jeans.
You played with the frayed hem, the loose threads and tried not to squirm at such a compliment. You hummed, nose wrinkling even when you smiled. “Thank you,” you replied politely and just as quiet. “Your eyes are pretty too.”
The boy turned pink, a pretty flush over the bridge of his nose that you wanted to trace with your fingertip. He tilted his head, inspecting you, eyes flicking over each of your features like he was drawing you in his head. “You shouldn’t be handing out compliments,” he mumured bashfully. “Not when I was such a dick to you.”
You shrugged, smiling as you leaned back just a little, too focused on the way Eddie’s lips moved as he spoke. The small space you put between you both gave you some air and Eddie’s hand dropped from your neck to trail down your arm. His fingers found your ring, a dainty thing on your middle finger that was so different to his own that it was comical and he played with the gold as you did with the rips in his denim.
Touching. Still touching.
“S’okay,” you told him gently. “You’ve made up for it now.”
A wry smile, a thumb brushing over the inside of your palm. “I have?”
“Oh, yeah. Free food and free weed?” You grinned when Eddie scoffed. “What more could a girl want?”
It was a rhetorical question. Eddie knew that, but still, he hummed as if he were thinking about it, his fingers dancing over your wrist now, climbing, climbing, climbing. You wished he’d cup your jaw again, warm, wide hands making you feel small and soft.
“I dunno,” he mused. “What about a d—”
Whatever Eddie was going to say was interrupted by the opening of the trailer door. A sharp noise in the quiet and it rattled off of the wall as Wayne barged his way in, arms full of pizza boxes and a giant bottle of soda. “Ed!” He yelled out in greeting, oblivious. “Grubs up, boy, come get.”
It made you spring apart, the mattress squeaking obnoxiously at the movement and you burned at the noise, at what it made it sound like you were up to. You stared wide eyed at Eddie, like a teenager caught doing something they shouldn’t and suddenly you wondered if Wayne would shout at you both for getting high.
But then Eddie was yelling back something noncommittal as he got off the bed, looking back down at you with an amused expression. He bent at the knees, shins hitting the mattress and his hands found your knees where he squeezed them reassuringly. “Hey, hey,” he smiled like he found you funny. Maybe he did. “S’all good, relax. Wayne doesn’t care.”
You sucked in a breath and willed away the weed induced panic you could feel brewing in your stomach, a knotting of nerves that Eddie managed to unravel with the way his fingers smoothed over your lower thighs. So you smiled back and nodded even though you felt like cardboard and when Eddie offered his hand to help you stand, you took it.
“Hey, Wayne,” Eddie called out into the living room. “We got a dinner guest, that alright?”
You could hear the rustle of pizza boxes being opened, the smell of basil and tomatoes wafting through the trailer. Your stomach rumbled and Eddie laughed, chuckling harder when you batted the back of your hand into his side for his lack of manners.
“You can’t just announce that!” You hissed. “That’s so rude.”
Eddie rolled his eyes and then held out his hand to the bedroom door as if to say ‘see?’ when Wayne grunted and said, “If it’s Steve, tell him I ain’t paying extra for those damn mozzarella sticks when there’s already cheese on the pi— oh, hey, kid.”
Wayne looked surprised to see you as you shuffled out of Eddie’s bedroom in your socks. The boy had his hand on the small of your back as he coaxed you forward into the main space of the trailer. “Hi,” you waved shyly, watching with a hot face as Wayne looked at you, at his nephew and back again, brows raised in interest. “Sorry I interrupted your dinner plans, I—”
“Nonsense,” Wayne said at the same time as Eddie scoffed, “shut up.”
“C’mon, now, sit and grab a plate,” the older man urged. “Hope you like Jeopardy! ‘‘cause that’s pizza night tradition.”
You smiled and nodded as Eddie slid into the breakfast nook beside you, hips nudging yours as you budged up. And as Wayne argued with the remote control, the boy loaded up your plate with pizza slices, ignoring your protests completely.
“God, you’re such a feeder,” you joked weakly, still embarrassed to be crashing the Munson pizza night.
Wayne was still frowning at the buttons when he grunted and laughed. “Yep, the boy doesn’t know how to give someone a damn hug, but he’ll make sure you never go hungry. Gotta show love one way or another, huh?”
Nobody said anything and Wayne won the battle as the channel flicked over and the voice of Alex Trebek filled the room. You couldn’t quite look at Eddie and both of you sat side by side as you ate your pizza, Eddie’s curls hiding his face from view. You wondered if he was pink again, blushing and cursing out his uncle in his head.
You wondered if you should’ve said something.
But then, as if to prove some kind of point, Eddie barely glanced at you as he picked up the last slice of pepperoni from the box, and slid it onto your plate.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson imagine#linecook!eddie
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[1.4k] in which a silly little prank sends quinn spiralling that he's the worst boyfriend of the year (based of a commented suggestion left by @huggybear13).
series masterlist
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When you and Luke were kids, it was a reoccurring habit for Jack and Quinn to push you to the side. Not necessarily in a mean way, but in that classic sense that older kids always felt like they had a superiority, an understanding in stupid games that you two were just unable to grasp.
It took one particularly annoyed seven year old Luke to start the tradition—for both of you to prank his older brothers.
When you were young, it was stupid things that would cause them to huff and pout and run off to Ellen. Those kinds of pranks that would make the two of you snicker and giggle as you hid under his bed like that would protect you from everything and anything.
As you got older, the pranks got a little more sly and convoluted. They became more impressive, the pranks you and Luke were pulling were more thought out and it was just another one of those things that bonded you two closer.
The pranks eased up when the boys started going off to college and going pro. It never truly stopped, especially not when you spent the summer at the lakehouse all together again. But they weren’t as constant and not really as annoying as they were when you and Luke were young.
But it was in your blood. It was like a part of you both urged you to mess with Jack and Quinn a little, like it was your life’s purpose.
And maybe that wasn’t something that entirely stopped when you started dating Quinn too.
Most of them were harmless and usually got him to crack a smile, finding the pranks more endearing than irritating like he did when he was younger. And after knowing you so much better than he did when you were kids, it was easy for Quinn to spot the signs, like that smile on your face that promised chaos and mischief before you pulled one of your attempts.
That was exactly why it made you so much more determined to pull one over on him—this time your inspiration being a flurry of videos you had whilst scrolling through your phone.
It started that morning when you were sitting at the kitchen counter, eating your breakfast whilst Quinn rushed around the apartment to collect his things before heading off to morning skate. Truthfully, he was so wrapped up in not being late that he didn’t have time to question the way you swiped your mouth against the back of your hand after he kissed you.
It wasn’t until a few hours later when he came back from practice when he noticed, huddled in the kitchen making some lunch for the two of you when you came in.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” You teased as you walked towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and peaking over his shoulder to see what he was making.
“Thought I’d make you something while you were studying,” he said with a small grin as he turned his head to look at you. He ducked down, pressing his lips against yours in a soft peck (his first one since he left earlier that day).
“Thank you, baby,” you grinned at him before raising your hand, wiping the back of your palm over your lips again.
Quinn paused, frowning a little at the movement. “You good?”
“Yeah, of course,” you said, looking at him as if he was the one acting weird. “How can I help? If I look at any more cell biology, I’ll hit my head against a wall.”
Quinn laughed, but it was still a bit strained. “Chop the onions for me?”
“You got it, chef.”
But just when Quinn assumed he was losing his mind and hallucinating the whole thing, you had wiped your mouth again when he kissed you after placing your plate down in front of you. And you did it again when he kissed you before you headed back to the small office in the apartment to study. And you did it again when he kissed you after bringing you a snack and some water.
He would be fucking lying if he said a part of his stomach didn’t twist bitterly every time you did it.
He spent the rest of the day trying to wrack his head around the whole thing. He didn’t get it. You never used to do this before. Not even when you were really fucking pissed at him. You would have especially never done it so blatantly in front of him.
Which, to Quinn’s spiralling thoughts, only meant one thing—he fucked up and forgot something big, and you were pretending you were okay.
It was embarrassing how quickly he grabbed his phone, frowning at his calendar like it would have all the answers he needed. It wasn’t your birthday. It wasn’t your anniversary. Hell, it just seemed like an average day and that made his stomach drop ever more, because how could he forget an important day with you?
He didn’t even think twice before grabbing his keys, determined to try and salvage the day even if he wasn’t entirely sure what day he was saving in the first place.
It was around an hour later when you heard someone softly swearing, frowning as you got up from the desk and began making your way towards the living area. However, you came to a stop when you saw the room completely decorated.
There were colourful banners stuck to the wall, balloons covering the floor and ceiling with ‘I love you’ written all over them, and even a fucking cake sitting on the table. Quinn hadn’t even noticed you yet, frowning down at the pack of tealight candles he was struggling to open.
“Quinn?”
His head snapped up comically fast, his eyes widening like he wasn’t expecting you to leave the office so soon before a sheepish expression washed over his face. “Surprise?”
You let out a short laugh, a little disbelieving as you took everything in. “Surprise for what? What’s going on? What’s with the decorations?”
He looked at you with a cautious expression, almost like he was waiting for you to blow up at him. It only made you frown, brows furrowed together at his sudden shift.
“Quinn?”
“I’m sorry!” He blurted out before he had the chance to come up with some semblance of a thought out response. “I…I forgot what today was and I know you’re pissed, but I promise to make up for it—”
“Quinn,” you started, taking a step towards him. “What are you going on about? I’m not mad.”
He frowned. “But you’re doing the thing!”
You blinked. “What thing?”
“You keep…wiping my kisses away!” He said before wincing, as though he realised how whiny he sounded.
You paused before your expression softened, your lips twitching upwards when you realised just how quickly the boy spiralled. You were expecting Quinn to call you out on the kisses, expecting him to corner you until you finally broke and laughed about the whole thing. You never expected him to do anything like this.
“Baby,” you murmured before crossing the room, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “It was a prank.”
Quinn blinked. “What?”
“It was a prank, to just wind you up a bit,” you admitted with a sheepish expression. “You didn’t miss anything and I’m not pissed at you.”
It was like those words alone let his body finally sag in relief. “You’re not?”
“Not at all,” you assured him with a smile.
“And if I kiss you now, you won’t wipe it away?” He questioned.
You shook your head. “Promise—”
But you barely had a chance to finish speaking before his hands were cupping your face and he smashed his lips against yours. You let out a small whine, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt in tight fists as his tongue darted against your bottom lip, practically begging for you to give him more and you happily did.
He didn’t pull away until you were both panting, lungs burning for fresh air and cheeks flushed at how warm you both were.
“At least we have cake for dessert today,” he murmured after a few moments, grinning back at you when you let out a loud laugh in response.
“All thanks to you,” you teased, though your arms tightened around his waist.
“More like, all thanks to those pranks of yours,” he muttered, acting like he was annoyed even though a huge grin was plastered on his face as he leaned down to kiss you again.
.
#quinn hughes#nhl#vancouver canucks#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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Din Djarin: Languid
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)
Excerpt: “Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”
You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”
He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”
And you did.
Warnings: sleepy, love-filled sex between a married couple. Wife!reader, grogu’s asleep, unprotected sex, mostly just kissing and feeling up. NOT breeding kink. A bit of cockwarming.
A/N: Once again, Happy Dincember everyone. I cannot explain how grateful I am for almost 3,000 followers without crying.
If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated :)
Pedro Masterlist
(GIF from Pinterest)
The familiar scuff of his boots on the Crest floor pulled you from REM sleep into barely languid, and the heat of your body from the cot’s covers warmed just so.
Your riduur was home.
Due to how out of it you were, it took you a few moments to realize that no, this wasn’t a dream. This was real. The two-day mission turned five, turned seven, turned nine, turned twelve was finally over, and your numb body somehow found the strength to prop itself up and drape yourself with the blankets.
You sat like that, all wrapped up in your cocoon, smiling to yourself with your eyes closed, for a few moments. You then stood up slowly, taking the blankets with you, and squinted your way out of the bedroom. Your eyes were no wider than slits, and you thanked the maker for muscle memory.
You swallowed the sleep from your mouth and rounded the corner, feeling your muscles ache with stretch, still in a daze. Your head was beginning to swim with dopamine, and with one last yawn, you made it to the cock pit.
The sight before you halted you instantly.
There was your husband, wrapped in wealth and impenetrable metal, leaning over Grogu’s tiny bassinet. He must have gotten fussy when Din opened the airlock, and Din had immediately taken care of it.
You’d have to thank him for that later.
He sat Grogu up, patting his back, and fed him small bites of maple bar. His favorite.
“That’s it buddy,” he whispered. “Swallow. There ya go.”
You stood and watched this encounter, soaking it in. It was moments like this that you missed the most when he was gone—moments so domiciliary and domesticated that they etched into your heart implicitly. These moments were so wrapped in rarity that you could not even daydream about them or yearn for them, because you didn’t even know they existed. Like watching a Mandalorian brush his teeth, or chop an onion, or change the sheets, or breathe at night. They were the memories you would recall when you were old and graying, unable to describe them in a way that did them justice.
You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, just watching and basking in the glow of it. Eventually Din laid Grogu down, tucking him in, and traced his face with his leather-bound glove.
“Goodnight buddy,” he whispered, and turned to you.
You looked up at him in all his sheathing, and smiled.
“Hi,” you whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back. He smelled of metal and woods with a hint of gunpowder. In the nearly pitch black of the room his shoulders still appeared as broad as ever, his armor was caked in mud, and his weapons belt hung a noticeable amount lower than usual.
You took a moment to soak in the fact that you would look at him like this for the rest of your life.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, moving closer to you.
“You didn’t,” you replied, “your boots did.”
His chuckle underneath the modulator was nothing like it was out of it, but it was enough to bring you home.
“You know I like being up for you when you get back,” you said, looking up higher at him as he came closer and closer. The warmth of the blankets and increased blood flow were not the only things warming your insides now. “Let me be your docile, obedient wife for once.”
You could feel the smirk on his face. “Yes. Obedient and docile, perfect for you.”
He made it to you, wrapping his hands around your waist. Your hands laid on top of his cooled beskar chest and chills etched up your spine as you looked up at him with a smile.
He pressed his forehead firmly against your own. The smell of forest and frost on him engulfed you. “My wife is none of those things.”
You hummed. “No, she isn’t.”
He began slowly walking you backwards into the bedroom, as if you were swaying in a dance, and your hands crept up to his helmet.
“Why didn’t you wake me up when the kid was fussy? I could have taken care of him.”
His gloved hands trailed up your back and the exhaustion in his voice was present. “I missed him. Wanted to take care of him.”
You smiled and pressed a kiss to his visor, tasting a mix of ice and salt that burned your chapped lips. “Okay.”
The back of your knees hit the bed frame and you stopped, creeping your hands underneath Din’s helmet.
“If you take this thing off me I’m not going to be able to keep my mouth off you.”
He said it so nonchalantly, as if that was a normal thing to say, and the fatigue of his voice and body language liquified you even more. Your still drowsy state was not helping matters.
You felt euphoric, in a perfect state of conscious and unconscious, like you were still in a dream. It was paradise.
“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” you said, removing the sheets wrapped around you. You let them fall onto the bed before reaching back up for him, slowly rising the helmet off of his head. The familiar hiss coated your ears as it rose, and the chocolate eyes that were yours forever met your own.
He smiled in the dark, illuminated by the moon. He brought his mouth inches away from yours, breathing in your breaths. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you responded, and he kissed you.
Immediately, the taste and feel of him washing over you threatened to crumble you to the floor. Din hands on your waist were the only things keeping you upright.
He kept you standing like it was nothing.
He kissed you slowly and deeply, taking his sweet time tasting you again. Your hands worked their way up his body, tracing his beskar all the way up to his hair. Your tongue met his at the same moment your nails scratched his scalp, and he pulled away from you to groan.
“Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”
You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”
He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”
And you did.
Piece by piece, you disrobed the Mandalorian from his beskar down to complete nudity, watching his eyes open and close as he began to drift to sleep as he stood. A few times you had to lean him onto you to prevent him from falling, and he kissed around your pulse point every time. Whispering gibberish.
Finally you squatted down to remove his boots, and just like that, he was naked in front of you. His purple under-eyes stood out in the moonlight, as well as a new scar across his abdomen. Your irises coated in worry, reaching up to feel it, but he stopped you.
“Tomorrow,” he said, kissing you more passionately than he had all night. “Tomorrow.”
Then he disrobed you.
The rough skin on his hands tracing you lit you on fire, boiling you enough to keep you conscious. He was the slowest with your panties, pulling them down your thighs like an art form. You scratched your nails down his warm back, and that seemed to speed him up.
As soon as the fabric hit the floor Din lifted you into his arms, laying you down flat on the cot before crawling overtop of you.
“Din, you’re tired, I can—”
“No,” he said, burying his head in your neck. “Wanna be close to you.”
You couldn’t say no to that.
He took the sheets you had discarded and covered them over the two of you. You could see nothing else but him, and you were completely surrounded by the scent and warmth of his skin.
“Maker I missed you so badly,” he said before kissing you hard enough to make you whine. You pulled him as close to you as possible, tracing his body as he kissed and kissed and kissed you, memorizing your mouth. The passion and heat in you were rising, and with one trace down his haired chest with your nail, he pulled away. He traced his hands over your face, pushing your hair away to see you fully. You traced his face too, noticing his scruff had turned into a full beard.
You always liked that look on him.
“Y/N,” he whispered. “My Y/N.” He spoke as if you were unbelievable
“I’m right here,” you responded, holding his face in your hands.
“I just want to be inside of you,” he whispered, almost pathetically. “Can we just skip to that part?”
You smiled, laughing loudly, and kissed him quickly. “Yes.”
He huffed a laugh and kissed you again, nice and slow, like he had been the whole night.
He kissed you and felt you for so long that you didn’t know if he would make it. His movements slowed and slowed as he went on, touching you and tracing you so meticulously it was like he was painting you from nothing.
Finally, with a firm kiss to your jawline, he entered you tortuously. You exhaled in pure pleasure, and your body threatened to rapture already.
He was a dream come true.
Din halted when he was as deep as he could go and tucked his head into your neck. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur.”
You kissed the side of his head. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan.”
And that’s when he started to move.
As he moved in and out, in and out, in and out, dragging each thrust on and on to feel every inch of your folds. He felt all around you, re-memorizing you; how you skin felt, how your body had changed, and the exact rhythm of your heart.
Tears spilled from your eyes as he moved, and you moaned his name over and over, grateful for the return of it in your tongue.
“Keep—keep doing that, saying my name,” he said as he moved. “Almost forgot I had it.”
You repeated it over and over again, clenching around Din when he began to shake. He swirled his shaking fingers around your clit, and with one last clench, the both of you went.
The covers above your heads did little to hide the sound of your synchronization, and it was then that you really started to drift. Din was so warm inside you—filling you up completely—and his body had you trapped in a cave of sheets and serenity. You were perfectly satisfied with your husband safe and sound in your arms, and your body began to fail you.
You felt Din prop himself up and press kisses around your face and your mouth, and your lips tingled with the intensity of it all. He rubbed his nose against yours and pecked your lips before laying back on top of you, pulling the covers raised above his head off as he did. You were hit with fresh air, and were inches away from bliss before Din whispered one last thing in your ear.
“Goodnight, docile and obedient wife.”
You drifted off with a smile.
None of this was a dream. This was real.
Your riduur was home.
Mando’a Translations:
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur: I love you/ I will know you forever, my sweet wife.
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan: I love you/ I will know you forever, even through war.
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#din djarin x reader#din djarin fluff#the mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin imagine#din djarin x you#mando#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#din djarin angst#dincember#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin smut#the mandolorian fanart#the mandalorian smut#dincember 2022#star wars fanfiction#star wars#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#narcos#javier peña x reader#the last of us#joel miller
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Finally finished the first part of gai’s 8 gates coma and how kakashi dealt with it rewrite people have been requesting. [tw blood, injury, coma, death discussions, grief]
Kurenai: Kakashi Kks: Ah. Kurenai and...baby, what’s up? Kurenai: You mind if I come in a moment? Kks: Uhhhhh I-
Kks: So what did you need to speak about? Did something happen? K: No, Nothing’s happened. You haven’t gotten to properly see and bond with her yet. Here Kks: You know I’m not fond of kids. K: That’s why I didn’t ask. Hold your arms out. Ok, now, don’t look absolutely petrified.
Kks: She’s ok, I guess [YELP] Oi! Don’t pinch me while I’m holding your baby! K: You wouldn’t drop her. Asuma would haunt you forever! Kks: Terrifying thought, Mirai.... How are you feeling? K: Exhausted. Do you really want to hear how horrifying having a baby is? Kks: No, please don’t tell me.
K: I came over to check on you as well. Any news? Kks: No. He’s still the same. K: Is that why it looks like this in here? Kks: ...Yeah. Doctor said he may never wake up. Since we’re eachother’s medical contacts, Tsunade told me I had to prepare to make hard decisions should it come to that.
Kks: With the council breathing down my neck over a job I don’t want, I had... A bit of an outburst. K: I don’t even blame you. That’s... That they expect you to carry on like normal. Still grieving. The person you love most is gone. But you’re still here. Don’t let them just dust you off and move on again. I’ll always have your back. Kks: You and Asuma always did. Even when I wasn’t grateful for it.
Kks: I can’t tell if they just don’t care or didn’t realize, Gai’s the one who held me together all these years. Only reason I’m still here at all is because of him. I don’t think tenzou, the elders, or the village are prepared for what’ll become of me if I lose him. So, I don’t care anymore. Let them be mad. I won’t give up on him. K: You should talk to him. Kks: huh K: Talk about anything! I’m sure the sound of your voice will help him find his way back. Especially if you sound sad, Kks: uuh
K: I can hear it now, “My eternal rival is sad? Not on my watch!“ Kks: Pretty accurate impression. K: There’s been lots of source material! Kks: Maaa, Your mom’s a huge dork K: Oi! [kakashi chuckles]
K: He’ll be so upset he missed her birth Kks: Oh, devastated. I can’t wait to see the look on Gai’s face, Mirai, when I tell him /I/ held you first! When he wakes up
Kks: Hey, Gai. Kurenai said i should talk to you.
Kks: Feels weird. Most of the people I’m used to talking to like this are all... Dead.
It’s so eerie how silent you’ve been for so long. you’re not even this quiet when you sleep. Your kids come everyday to see you. Naruto and sakura when they can. Lots of others. I’ve been telling them embarrassing stories from when we were kids since you keep making them wait. Do you remember when I came over while you and Dai were making supper
Dai: Kakashi! Good to see you, my boy! Kks: Id Gai home? Dai: He’s helping with supper! Go on, inside, you’re always welcome! Kks: Ok Dai: Atta boy Kks: Hey, G- !? ummm? Gai: OH!! Rival!! Kks: Is that a lid?! Gai: Correct!! It stops me from crying while cutting onions! A win for me!!
Kks: Against.... the onions? Gai: Yep! KKs:[snicker] Gai: Laugh all you want! Not everyone can comprehend innovation. Kks: Whatever. You forgot this at the training grounds. I know it’s yours there’s a turtle on it. Gai: See! You’re already tearing up! Kks: Am not Gai: Also, thankyou so much! Kks: Bye, I’m leaving. Gai: Could it be? You’re scared I can cut much faster than you! Kks: I am not scared. Gai: Good, I think we have another lid! Kks: YOU-!
Dai: Great to see growing boys with such a hunger! I’ll never have to prep onions again! Kks: I think about that everytime I chop onions now. You’ve altered my brain with all the ridiculous things you’ve done. Can’t even look at the toys you’ve gotten the dogs without getting emotional
Kks: Just knowing you’re here still, I can barely function. It’s pretty pathetic... Your hair’s getting long. Turning into your dad.
[gai’s heartbeat] Kks: Gai
[gais heartbeat continues]
[gai’s heartbeat continues] Kks: If anything should happen to me, you’ll rush over, right? Gai: Damn right, I will. Dont you worry about that.
[Gai’s heartbeat]
Kks: I miss you
#kakagai#gaikaka#Kakashi Hatake#Maito Gai#might guy#naruto#my art#//coma#//blood#//death mention#Kurenai Yuhi#mirai sarutobi#naruto spoilers#i guess
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They’re okay
Summary: Instead of being greeted by the reader, Daryl is only greeted with silence.
(The reader is 18+ and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)
“(Y/N),” Daryl yelled your name, as he came through the door. Shit, he thought, feeling a corner of the crossbow digging into his back. He quickly deposited it onto the floor then closed the door behind him.
Walking into the foyer he looked around and frowned at the silence of the house, not having been used to it in a long time.
“(Y/N)!” he yelled again, waiting to hear the scurry of your feet hurrying to greet him with a hug and a kiss, but was sadly disappointed again.
The hell are they, he wondered, walking into the kitchen. He was about to open a cabinet and fix him a plate of food, when he noticed the mess on top of the counter and stopped, what he saw almost making his heart stop. A cutting board with chopped bell peppers, garlic, and almost finished chopped onions was sitting on the counter and next to it was a knife. He knew his (Y/N), and he knew they were a bit of a neat freak and would never leave a mess like this on the counter, usually scolding him for doing something similar. Taking a small step closer to the counter, he squinted his eyes at the blade of the knife, hoping that what he was seeing wasn't there, that he was mistaken, but he was indeed right. On the knife was blood.
“No,” he muttered to himself, feeling his chest beginning to tighten at the possibility of what that blood meant. They could be alright, he mentally told himself, placing his hand on his chest, rubbing where his heart was, hoping the action would comfort him. There's nothing wrong with them. I just have to find them. Against his control, images of lost lives began flashing through his mind. Carol’s daughter, Sofia, as a walker. Merle as a walker. Beth’s dead body. The images kept appearing behind his eyes like a projector and he could feel the tightening in his chest getting worse with each one.
“(Y/N),” he yelled again. Still no answer. He then thought of someone else, someone who he knew would answer him without hesitation. “Dog!” Surprisingly there was no answer to that either.
“Shit, shit, shit!” he mumbled, hurrying out of the kitchen and going to the front door, picking up his crossbow from the floor. He was slinging it back on his back and ready to open the door, when he heard something that made the tightening in his chest loosen instantly.
“Daryl!”
“(Y/N),” he yelled back, throwing the crossbow back on the floor, before hurrying to where he heard their voice. “(Y/N)! Dog!”
A loud bark answered him back, and he followed the sound, quickening his pace to find them both in the backyard, the backdoor slightly ajar.
“Daryl, hey! When’d you get back,” (Y/N) asked. “Me and Dog didn’t hear you.”
Dog quickly greeted him with a wide smile and wagging tail, jumping on him with glee. Catching him, Daryl scratched the excited dog behind his ears and rubbed down his back, happy to feel its fur beneath his fingers and see the animal happy and healthy.
They’re okay, he told himself, looking at (Y/N). He didn’t see any serious injuries on their body, no limping, and no wincing. Running his eyes down their body, his eyes caught the sight of a bandage wrapped around their right hand, with a little blood seeping through.
“Yer hand,” Daryl nodded towards it.
"Oh," they looked down, noticing their blood through the bandage. "The smell of the onions were so strong that my eyes were starting to water and I accidentally cut my hand."
"Why were ya out here?" He let go of Dog and walked over to them, gently taking their hand in his.
"The smell was so strong," (Y/N) repeated, "I went outside to get away from it."
They're okay, he repeated, feeling a weight being lifted off of his chest. The bloody images of fallen friends and family were no longer appearing to him. The only thing he saw now was his love and his dog both safe and sound.
"Daryl-"
Daryl cut them off pulling them to his body and wrapping his arms tightly around their body, nestling his head into the side of their neck, breathing in their scent.
"Daryl, are you okay?" (Y/N) asked, their voice muffled by his shoulder.
They’re okay. Everybody's alive. Everybody's okay. He breathed in their scent one more time before answering, "I'm fine." His mind at ease once more in the arms of his love.
#The Walking Dead#TWD#The Walking Dead imagine#TWD imagine#The Walking Dead x reader#TWD x reader#The Walking Dead x black!reader#TWD x black!reader#Daryl Dixon#Daryl Dixon imagine#Daryl Dixon x reader#Daryl Dixon x black!reader#Daryl Dixon x poc!reader#Daryl Dixon x woc!reader#Daryl Dixon x G/N#Daryl Dixon x Y/N
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — let me baby you on your birthday. will you let me, katsuki? (bakugou birthday special)
word count: 1.7k
࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, handjob (m!receiving), very suggestive, lowkey cum-eating, lots of praise (m!receiving), subby!bkg / note. happy birthday katsuki, my lil firecracker.
some days are more rough than they usually are on katsuki. albeit, as a pro hero, most days are rough - on not only his body, but his mind and emotional state too. the constant bossing people around because they’re “incompetent fucks” as he would put it, and the micromanaging he has to implement onto his sidekicks because they can’t take out a small gang orchestrating an armed robbery at the local bank.
katsuki knew this came with being a pro but it didn’t make the bags under his eyes less dark or the weight of his tired footsteps less heavy as he went through days on autopilot. he loved the notoriety that came with being the number one but this? this was getting to him more than he was letting on.
that’s where you come in. his lovely, sweet, caring girlfriend. now, you didn’t enjoy telling your boyfriend to take breaks or to slow down, lest you get faced with a hard, vermillion-eyed glare and a bastion of words telling you that he “needed to do this to elevate his career,” and that “there were no breaks if he wanted to stay number one on the charts.”
you let it slide a lot of the time, knowing that your boyfriend was at the height of his career. even when he missed important dates or dinners with the parents - you know that this was an integral part of his life and it’s what you signed up for. well, that was until today.
april 19th. the day before his 25th birthday.
katsuki never took his birthday seriously - not unless the people around him made a big fuss about it. and ever since he had started dating you, every birthday had been extravagant. whether it was a home cooked meal, a fancy restaurant and buying him his favourite collector’s items, he knew that you would never let him just get old and move on. which is why you were having this current, heated discussion.
you’re standing in the kitchen, chopping onions as you sternly say his name,“katsuki.” he wants to roll his eyes and tell you to just forget about it but he opts to just doing the latter, not wanting to invoke even more fury in your spirit.
“just forget about it, y/n. ‘s MY birthday. if i don’t care about it, you don’t have to either,” he argues, taking off his muddy caked up boots and throwing them in his bag. he had already had a garbage day because the coffee maker in his office has stopped working and suddenly no one knew who’d broken it.
to make matters worse, a mission went to shit with deku not being specific with the villain’s whereabouts, thus compromising his position in the mission and almost killing multiple civilians. his back was aching and his throat was scratchy from the strain of shouting at idiots all day.
“what kind of girlfriend would i be if i just did nothing for your birthday? no, i refuse to have this discussion. you absolutely don’t need to go in tomorrow,” you say indignantly and the sound of your chopping and diving gets more precise and sharp and katsuki decides to just half indulge in your wishes - too tired to argue with you.
“fine, whatever you want. you win,” katsuki grumbles, walking over to you while you throw some stuff in the pan and resting his chin on your head and you can feel his weary body looming over you.
you turn to look at katsuki and plant a kiss on his nose at him being so agreeable. but you knew deep down that he would probably try to defy you anyway so you had to make sure he wouldn’t leave your grasp on his special day.
after katsuki washes up and you both eat a lovely pre-birthday dinner, your boyfriend tries to settle into bed and you place a hand on his bare chest, resting a leg over his waist.
“something wrong?” katsuki asks with a quirked brow and his breath hitches slightly when you plant wet kisses to his jaw and his neck while your hand descends lower to his jogging bottoms.
“should be asking you that, ‘ki. you’re so tense, baby. can feel how tight your muscles are just from touching you,” you hum against his stubbled jaw and katsuki groans quietly under his breath at your unabashed attention all on him.
“can i give you an early birthday’s gift?” you whisper, still laving kisses on his adam’s apple and neck. katsuki gulps, nodding, his golden-blond eyelashes batting against his sharp and tan cheekbones.
“yeah, course,” he hums and a pleasant rumble shakes through his chest when your leg slips in between his legs and you palm against his semi hardon that’s starting to chub between his thick, tan legs.
“want you to know i’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished at this age, kats. don’t know anyone more deserving of being the number one hero,” you say with a saccharine lilt to your voice and your hand slips under his both his joggers and pants to palm at him properly and you watch the way your boyfriend pants pathetically, his hips lifting up slightly to meet your touch, only to remove your hand to get him to push down his trousers and katsuki gets the memo immediately; frantically pushing down both his briefs and joggers in one swift movement.
you take a moment to spit on your hand and a hint of a whine catches in the back of his throat when he lets you further entangle your smaller thigh with his much bigger one, so you can get better access to his cock. you grab at his throbbing cock and languidly stroke him, from his angry-red tip with dribbles of precum to his heavy, weighty balls that were now shiny and wet due to the mixture of pre and your spit.
“so big, so strong. you’re so good at what you do and i’m so proud of you katsuki, just wanna show you how much i mean it,” you sweetly say and the raspy whimper that leaves his lips sounds so desperate, so unlike him. his hips rise to meet your touch and you speed up to reach every inch of his heavy cock.
you continue to praise him through touching his cock, “you’re such a good boy, kats’. so good at leading, so good to me. just want you to let me take care of you sometimes. will you let me?” and his hips jerk into your fist harder now.
“o-oh, baby, f-uck me, fuuuuck-” he moans gruffly and his eyes roll into the back of head when your thumb pays attention to the head of his cock, pressing into his slit and rubbing at what seems to be a never ending stream of precome.
“you’re gonna come for me, baby? you deserve it so so much, sweet boy. let me do this for you, ‘kay? look at how much you needed this,” you whisper into his slightly open mouth, his pink tongue peeking out and you both look down to see his wet and shiny cock and your soaked hand that’s tugging at him, all hard and fast.
“oh-ohhhh, urgh, fuck-fucken, gonna fucking come,” he moans and he looks gorgeous like this: katsuki’s face is scrunched up, a little pink in the cheeks and a tiny ‘o’ forms on the planes of his lips. his eyebrows are furrowed deeply and he doesn’t know what to with himself and opts to throwing one beefy, tatted arm across his eyes and another gripping tightly at your panty-clad ass.
with your hand busy jerking him off, you use your other to rub at his chest and thumb at pale brown nipples and then you slow down because you want him to see what you’re about to do to him before he reaches his limit.
he moves his arm when he notices you slow down and smile at him so sincerely, so bright and kiss his cheek.
“shh, just relax, ‘kay, baby? wanna see your pretty face when you come,” and you speed up all over again and you lean up slightly so you can use your unoccupied hand to thumb at the taint of his cock - the sensitive, veiny part that meets his balls and katsuki reels at the touch.
he’s all choked up with unshed tears wanting to fall down his face at your ministrations and the constant fondling at the base of his cock is too much for him, “hmmfgg - fuck, fuuuuck, right there, ‘m gonna come, shit, don’t, fuckk - don’t fuckin’ stop, ohhhh,” katsuki begs and he doesn’t know whether he’s begging for you to not stop talking or to keep touching him or both.
your clit practically beats out of your panties just looking at him reaching his climax and you talk him through it as the first spurts of his orgasm hit your arm and his pelvis, “so proud of you, kats’, just like that, yeah, babyyy, give me all of it, so good for me, huh?” you tease, with a sickly amount of sweetness and a hint of smirk in your voice and katsuki humps your hand until he’s spilt himself all over the expanse of his lower body and all over your hand and arm.
“fuck me,” your blond boyfriend breathes out, sniffling a little and quickly wiping his wet eyes and he leans on his elbows to assess the mess he made.
“you came a lot this time,” you giggle, poking fun at your hothead of a man and you lift your hand to suck at one of your fingers and katsuki’s eyes darken in desire all over again: his hands finding purchase on your waist and playing with the hem of your panties.
“how about you let me apologise by sitting on my face?”
ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ
“is dynamight not coming in?” quizzes one of the sidekicks to the secretary and she shakes her head.
“nope. think he���s taking a day off for birthday celebrations. good for him,” she nods and the sidekick agrees.
dynamight comes back on the 21st very content and calm. no one knows what happened but they chalk it up to a great birthday surprise from you.
࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou smut#bakugo smut#bakugou x reader#bakugou drabble#not proofread#happy birthday babe#sorry im almost two days late#bakugou imagine#✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕
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gorgeous / roronoa zoro
PAIRING fem!reader x roronoa zoro
SUMMARY you have been absolutely smitten for one gloriously skilled swordsman for a long time now and zoro has been pining over you for as long as you have known each other. however, due to some extenuating circumstances and some accidental happenstances, the two of you think the other loves someone else. your crew takes matters into their own hands, forcing the both of you to admit your feelings for one another.
TAGS fem!reader x roronoa zoro, reader has she/her pronouns, sanji, nami, usopp, luffy, idiots in love, locked closet (well, kitchen in this case), admitting feelings, making out, when you realize the both of you are stupid
QUOTE "if you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her, / but if you're single, that's honestly worse, / cause you're so gorgeous, it actually hurts (honey it hurts)," - gorgeous by taylor swift
WORD COUNT 1.7K
WRITTEN 10.24.2023
You weren't sure what exactly was going on with you and Zoro - you felt as though there was some romantic subtext between you, but it was just impossible to really tell because everytime you came close to kissing or holding hands or admiting your feelings, he left before you could even say "bye." And then there was the case of Nami. Everytime you happened upon him, he was always with her. And that wasn't to say you didn't like Nami. No, far from it, but it was just the unfortunate circumstance of Zoro feeling some type of way about her. It wasn't deniable - they were laughing and sparring and joking around together all the time. They even bickered like an old married couple too.
You sought comfort in the form of a friend - Sanji. The blonde-haired cook was always kind and warm, welcoming you into the kitchen with a smile and a bowl of soup. He allowed you to bring your tomes along with you (you were the crew's scholar) and even went as far to let you rant about your feelings towards Zoro. He would sit there, chopping up carrots and onions and garlic, while you whined and complained and cried.
Today was no different. You stormed into the kitchen, a large leather-bound book tucked under your arm, slamming the door behind you. Sanji didn't even jump, his back towards you as he stirred a large pot of soup.
"What happened this time?" He asked, his voice calm and unwavering.
"He - he - they're sparring and he landed on top of her and they just sat there!" You exclaimed, slamming your book down next to a bowl of soup. You grabbed the bowl and pulled it towards you as you sat down, shoveling a spoonful into your mouth. "Your soup tastes wonderful today," you told him begrudgingly, tone still enraged.
"I'm glad you think so - I added a bit lemon this time," Sanji responded. He turned around, flipping a towel over his shoulder and swinging his hair out of his face. He gripped the edges of the table as he looked down at you with a grin, tilting his head. "I wouldn't worry about the two of them if I were you - they're nothing more than friends."
You held up your fingers, your thumb and forefinger almost touching each other. "Their faces were this far apart. Do you see this? They were practically making out!" You spooned some more soup into your mouth, grumbling a string of noncoherent words.
Sanji sighed, turning back towards his soup with a shake of his head.
-
"It's almost sad to watch them," Nami said with a small smile, watching you and Zoro talking together while overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean. Both of you were blushing, your hands inches away from each other and pining to be closer. When one of you turned your heads to look at the other, and your eyes met, you immediately looked away with reddened cheeks.
"It is sad to watch them," Usopp responded, cringing as he watched the both of you. He turned to Sanji and Nami. "Are you serious? Zoro thinks she likes Sanji when she's really confiding in Sanji about him, and she thinks that Zoro likes you when he's really confiding in you about her?"
"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds a lot more complicated than it actually is," Sanji responded, letting out a puff of smoke. He put out his cigarette on a crystal ash tray and sighed. "Look, we just have to figure out a way to get them to confess to each other. A way where they can't run away from their feelings."
The three of them went silent, lost in thought. They were startled as something dropped onto the floor in front of them - Luffy had been hanging from the rafters, listening all along. He pushed himself up from the ground, brushing off his Hawaiian shirt and straightening his straw hat. "Why don't you just shove them in a closet together or something?"
Nami raised her eyebrows, glancing towards Sanji and Usopp who were both already looking between each other, grinning.
-
"You're the smartest one here, you're got to help him!" Sanji exclaimed, dragging you by your arm. You were trying to keep up with his pace, but your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute as aderanline pumped through your veins. Yes you were rhe smartest one here, bur you knew nothing about wounds or blood or bandages! You were all books, no blood. Whyever would the crew think you had an idea on how to heal a knife wound?
"Sanji, I'm a scholar, not a doctor!" You exclaimed with a gasp as you turned down another corridor. "I don't know how to care for wounds properly, much less how to dress one! Besides, weren't you the one that helped him when Mihawk -"
"That was all adrenaline," Sanji responded. "We've got you now, I know you can do it!"
Suddenly, you were shoved into the kitchen and the door slammed shut behind you. You turned around, slamming your hand on the door. "Sanji!" You shouted angrily, fidt pounding on the wood. "Sanji, you asshat, what the hell? Is this some kind of stupid prank, cause it's not. Funny!"
You heard the other door to the kitchen open and watched as someone shoved Zoro into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Zoro glanced at you, then glanced towards the door with a panicked expression. He let out a sigh of irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"We'll let you two out in an hour," Sanji shouted from outside. "Once you sort out this - mess you lot have gotten yourselves into." You would've shouted at the bastard some more were it not for the sound of resounding footsteps, leaving the two of you completely alone.
"So . . ." You started, unsure how to approach the situation. You couldn't believe Sanji, that bastard, had locked you in a room with the crew member he knew you were in love with. "You're not wounded?"
"I was told you were hurt," Zoro said gruffly. "But I guess that's not true." His demeanor was awkward, more awkward than had ever been near you. You found it slightly unnerving and doubts began to creep in your mind. Had you done something wrong? Perhaps Nami had convinced Zoro to tell you his true thoughts about you, or even worse, that they were together and you couldn't be friends anymore. Your negative fantasies began to spiral and it was soon evident to Zoro that you were lost.
"You all right? You do look a little sick."
"What?" You asked, returning to reality. You suddenly shook your head with a shy smile, waving your hands in disregard. "No, no, I'm fine, I'm just thinking about - uh - something else."
"Right." Zoro's thumbs settled under his belt as he rocked back on his feet. As he did so, his swords clanked together, providing a lonely noise in the awkward silence.
"So you and Nami -"
"I've noticed you and Sanji -"
The two of you stared at each other for a moment before both responding at once again.
"What about her?"
"Sanji and me? Are you crazy?"
Both of you shared expressions of slight shock. You were the first to respond.
"I just - I've noticed the two of you happen to have spent a lot of time together recently. I thought maybe - you two were . . ." You let your voice trailed off, hoping that Zoro would understand what you were insinuating, but he looked much more like a lost puppy. "You know." It seemed he didn't. You let out an exasperated sigh and sunken over to one of the clean counters, hopping on top of it and gripping the edge of it. "Dating. Together. Or, something along those lines."
"Are you serious?" Zoro asked, bowing his head with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, glancing away from you and running a hand down his chin. "No, no, Nami is just a friend, nothing more. You and Sanji, however, I thought were much more than that. Everytime I come into the kitchen, you two immediately stop talking with each other. I thought the two of you were fucking or something but Nami's been persistent in the assumption that, well . . ." He slowly made his way towards you until her was standing inbetween your legs, tilting his head upwards to meet your eyes with a strong gaze. "You like me."
You gulped and turned your head away with a nervous laugh. "What? That's - now that's ridiculous. You and me? Me, liking you?" You sputtered out another laugh but failed to hide your rosy cheeks. Zoro continued to stare into your eyes with that indifferent expression of his. You shifted uncomfortably. "Okay, fine, I do . . . like you, Zoro. A lot. I just . . . I didn't think it worthy of mentioning because you seemed like you and Nami were -"
"Well we're not." He placed his hands next to yours, gripping the edge of the counter and leaning in close. "So what are you going to do about it, hm?" His eyes flitted down to your lips and he ran his tounge against his own before returning his gaze to your eyes.
Now, he could be testing you. But see, at this point, you had spent so much time hiding your feelings for him, holding back. It had felt so relieving to finally tell him after all this time that you couldn't just go back to that phase of pretending as though you felt nothing towards the man.
It was rushed - one of your hand tangled in his hair as you ferociously smashed your lips against his. The other you placed onto his hand. He seemed shocked at your sudden confidence but swiftly and hungrily kissed you back, one hand coming up to grip your face. He groaned into your mouth but you quickly swallowed up the noise and wrapped your legs around his hips, urging him closer.
"Been waiting so long . . . I need you," you muttered into his lips before kissing him once more. You toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, curling it around his fingers.
"Is that so?" Zoro asked in response, pulling away. His breath was hot and heavy on your ear. He planted a sloppy kiss on your neck, causing you to let out an almost imperceptible whimper. "So needy, huh? Don't worry baby, I don't think they'll be opening those doors for a while."
#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#zoro x you#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#one piece#one piece netflix#one piece fan fiction#my writing#fanfiction#my fanfiction#my fic#writing#fanfic
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powerless part 2
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: pre-spider society miguel, jealous reader 🫣, smut, mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v
author’s note: sry i took a lil break, i had a bit of a writer’s block when it came to this part 🫡 part no one rly asked for but i hope you all enjoy nonetheless
word count: 4k
powerless part one
You and Miguel had been dancing around that line between being friends and being something more for the past few weeks. You could forgive him for that given the fact that he's been busy with a new prototype at Alchemax and he's been out saving the city. Your friends had stopped speaking to you after what happened, immediately choosing to side with Krystal despite them telling you that they'd never pick a side beforehand. You tried to keep your mind busy, to fill in the void with empty projects and your work, but nothing seemed to satisfy you.
You were in the middle of cooking up something for dinner when you heard a knock on your window, noticing Miguel leaning against it. You opened it up, noticing that it was starting to rain outside. "What is with you coming to my place whenever it's raining?" You asked him with a small giggle, stepping back to let him come inside. He pulled away the mask and only then did you notice the pained expression on his face, your eyes drifting down to the gash on his abdomen. You laughter died off and you helped him lay down on the couch, going to your bathroom to get something to clean him up with.
You poured some rubbing alcohol into a rag, starting to clean up the wound and blood surrounding it. Miguel let out a hiss as the alcohol seeped through the wound, stinging him and you shot him an apologetic look as you continued to clean him up. "How'd it happen?" You asked him once the blood stopped, stepping back to give him some space as he healed. "Just a fight with Doc Ock, the usual," he responded, his breath shallow. "Feel free to use the shower whenever you're ready," you told him, going back to the kitchen to make sure the food didn't burn.
He came back a little while after taking a shower, smelling like your body soap and he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as you were just finishing up the meal. "What are you making, hermosa?" He asked you, his words coming out muffled given that he'd buried his face in the crook of your neck. "I watched Ratatouille the other day so I decided to try out the dish. Turns out, it's not as easy as the stupid rat makes it seem but I don't think it looks too bad," you respond and he looked over your shoulder at the food baking. "I'm sure it's delicious, little chef."
"Oh come on! It's not that bad," you protested as Miguel spat out the first bite he'd taken of the food. "No, no. It's just.. too much for my taste buds to handle, y'know? It's just so good that I can't contain it," he responded, avoiding eye contact with you as he spoke. You rolled your eyes, putting a piece of eggplant in your mouth just to prove a point to him. You quickly spat it out, taking a sip of water to wash down the taste. You look up to see Miguel looking at you with a small smirk on his face, like he was daring you to try and defend the dish. "Alright, come on. I’ll help you make it again," he told you, gesturing you to join him in the kitchen as he stood up.
You began chopping up the eggplants while Miguel chopped up the onions, claiming that he wouldn't cry because of them. A couple seconds pass before you pick up sounds of him sniffling as he's cutting, though he did pretty well at masking it. You opened up the faucet next to him, a trick that your mom had taught you as his sniffling started to stop. "Thanks," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed and you go back to chopping the vegetable. "Why do these things have to be so big?" you whined as you cut the pieces into thin slices. "I'd say my eggplant's bigger," he responded, laughing at his own joke.
"Miguel?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Never say that again."
"Yes ma'am."
Eventually after a series of jokes and chopping up vegetables, the two of you were waiting for the dish to finish up. You were setting up the table while he was responsible for making sure that it didn't end up slightly burned like last time, his attention solely on the oven. The two of you sat to eat and he began telling you about his day, how he'd basically swung around the entirety of Nueva York. "How about you? Have your 'friends' called you?" He asked, putting the word in quotation marks as he rolled his eyes. "No, they haven't. Probably still pissed off that I won't apologize to them for pursuing something with you," you responded as you were finishing up with your food, taking a sip from your drink. "I know you didn't ask for my two cents, but if they were okay losing you in the first place then maybe they're not your friends."
A couple of days passed by before you had the opportunity to see Miguel again. He'd texted you early enough in the day to tell you that he would be taking you out tonight, to dress up in something nice. You headed out to the mall in hopes to find something adequate to wear, since most of your clothes weren't suitable for going to nice places. You were walking around the mall for some short time while you stumbled on your group of friends giggling and talking amongst themselves. You were planning on ignoring them, but your plans were quickly changed when one of them called you over.
Your throat bobbed as you walked over to them, trying to see what they wanted from you. "All you have to do is apologize to Krystal and we'll let you back in our group," one of them told you and you couldn't help it anymore. "Why not ask Krystal to apologize for the way that she treated me? For the way that she treated all of you? You all defend her actions but the only reason that she pursues the men she does is because someone else has interest in them," you respond and you could tell that their patience was running thin. "Either you apologize to Krystal right now or you're dropped from the group," the same one told you, her eyes boring into you.
You looked at the satisfied look on Krystal’s face and decided that it wasn't worth it anymore. "I'm sorry for sending you that picture, it was really petty of me. But I'm not apologizing for pursuing something with Miguel," you spoke to Krystal, looking at her directly as she scrambled to look upset when all eyes turned to her. "And as for the group, you can drop me. You're all hypocrites, getting pissed off when someone does something wrong but being perfectly okay when Krystal does it. She's not even supposed to be in this group, the only reason she's in it is because her sister wanted us to pity her," you finished off, not caring if you went too far and walked away.
Though the memories that you shared with your friends was something that you would miss, you felt a sense of relief at finally letting them go. You walked into a couple other stores and ended up buying a new dress and a set of lingerie just in case. When you got home, you decided to do something you'd been meaning to do for quite some time now since you were running on that 'high' of how good it felt to defend yourself. You grabbed your name tag and apron and took the train to the restaurant you worked at, confident in the decision that you were taking.
You walked to the back of the restaurant and sat down while you waited for the boss to come in. "What are you doing here? You have the day off today," your boss told you once he stepped inside the office, sitting down behind his desk. "I wanted to tell you that i'm quitting. I appreciate the opportunity that you gave me but I don't think this place fits my needs anymore," you told him, handing over your stuff. He shrugged and gave you your last paycheck before you were dismissed out of his office. You were thankful that the exchange had gone fairly well since your boss wasn't exactly the most pleasant person to work with.
You got ready for your date with Miguel as soon as you got back home, a little giddy as you took a shower. You couldn't help but wonder if this was the date where he'd make things official, to ask you if you wanted to be his girlfriend. On another part, you couldn't help but think if he was just taking you someplace nice to break up with you so it wouldn't hurt as bad. You decided to just go along with the flow and brush those thoughts out of your head. You finished up just in time, your doorbell ringing as you put the finishing touches on your outfit.
"Wow, chaparra. you look.. phenomenal," he told you as soon as you opened the door, butterflies taking flight in your stomach. You stepped aside to let him come inside and he handed you a bouquet of flowers. You thanked him and went to go set them in a vase, putting them down on your dining table. "Ready?" He asked you once you finished up and you nodded, grabbing his hand as he led you out. You locked up behind you and the two of you headed to the date he had planned out.
He ended up taking to you to the art museum and you had a suspicion that it'd been because you mentioned that you wanted to go. "So, how was your day today?" He asked you, holding your hand as the two of you started to walk around the museum. You told him what happened today and you expected him to call you out for quitting your job, but he did no such thing. "I'm proud of you for finally standing up for yourself. You've been miserable at that job for months," he told you, stroking your hand as he walked next to you.
Though he protested some, he still let you take some pictures of him with the paintings. You had to step back a couple feet just to capture his entire frame and he couldn't help but laugh at the distance that you'd created. He took some pictures of you as well, capturing you in the frame perfectly. "Y'know if this whole Alchemax thing doesn't work out, you should be a photographer," you told him as the two of you walked through the exhibits. "With all the technology available, you seriously think there's a need for photographers?" He asked you, looking down at you as he held your hand. "Well, just because it's available doesn't mean that everyone knows how to work it," you responded with a small shrug. “Touché."
He ended up taking you to dinner after the two of you finished walking through the museum, taking you to a nice area of town. "Hi, what would you like to order today?" The waitress asked, facing Miguel as she placed her manicured hand on his shoulder. You had to restrain yourself from saying something to her especially given the fact that Miguel wasn't committed to you yet, but you couldn't help the jealousy brewing in your stomach. "I'll have a medium rare steak with a side of rice, please. And a coke," he ordered and the waitress scrambled to write it down on her notepad. She started to walk away, not paying any mind to you until Miguel called for her to come back.
"What do you want?" She asked you, the annoyance on her face evident as she looked at you. "I'll have a shrimp alfredo with a coke, please," you told her, trying to remain polite. "Are you sure you don't want a salad? You look like you could benefit from it," she responded, letting out a laugh at her own joke. You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked up at her, still trying to restrain yourself. “No, what I ordered will be fine," you told her through gritted teeth, clenching your fists together.
Though you were aware of the struggles that waitresses went through as a previous one yourself, you felt no sympathy towards that woman with the way she acted towards you. The worst part about it was that Miguel seemed to be oblivious to the way that she acted around him, making a point to come to the table every 3-5 minutes to check up on him or see if he needed anything. He noticed the expression on your face and his brows furrowed, his hands holding yours now. "What's wrong?" He asked you, his eyes trying to read you properly. "That waitress keeps flirting with you and you don't even realize it. And the worst part about this whole thing is that I can't even be jealous because you're not even official with me," you told him, letting go of his hands as the waitress came back with the food.
The rest of the dinner was a bit awkward, with some minor conversation about how the food was. Though, you could appreciate that Miguel told the waitress that he wasn’t interested. He escorted you home and he lingered for a couple seconds in front of your door, his hand not letting go of yours. "I was gonna ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend today. Not because of what happened at the restaurant or anything, but because I can't think of wanting to be with anyone else other than you. I’m sorry if you didn't really feel that way," he spoke up after a while of silence and you turned to look at him, feeling guilty for snapping at him during dinner. "I'm sorry if I ruined dinner, I didn't mean to. I was just.. confused about where we going in this whole thing," you told him, rubbing his hand reassuringly.
"So, will you be my girlfriend?" He asked you, a little smile appearing on his face. "The answer was always yes, idiot," you mumbled, holding on to his shoulders for support as you kissed him. You opened up the door to your apartment and led him inside, thankful to the gods that you'd cleaned up the apartment and bought that new set of lingerie. He closed the door with his foot as he kissed you, locking the door with the best of his ability before he hoisted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he led you to your bedroom, your lips intertwined on the way there.
He placed you down on the bed, hovering above you as the two of you continued to kiss, your hands intertwined in his soft curls while his rested on your hips. He slowly pulled the dress down, his eyes widening a bit as he saw the lingerie you were waiting. "Should've skipped dinner and just went straight to dessert," he mumbled, his lips running through your neck as he kissed it. He bit down on some spots, careful not to inject you with any of his venom as he left some marks on you. "Just in case you're ever confused about who you belong to again."
He stripped off his clothes and sat down next to you, spreading your legs so he'd get easy access to your wet cunt. He brought up a finger to your lips, tapping on your bottom one so you'd open up. You wrapped your mouth around his finger, looking at his eyes as you coated it with your saliva. He pulled away and ran that finger down your folds, collecting extra slick. He pushed the tip of his finger inside, teasing you as he pushed it and out slowly. You let out a small whine for him to do something more but you only received a laugh in response. "Use your words," he cooed, his thumb gently pressing against your clit. "Please," you begged, looking up at him with your best 'fuck me' eyes.
"Please what?"
"Please use your fingers."
"Is that not what I'm doing?"
You wanted to let out a whine at his relentless teasing, the words in your mind turning to mush already from how needy you were. "Please fuck me with your fingers," you managed to tell him and he kissed your forehead. "You should've just said so," he responded condescendingly, stretching your cunt out with this one finger. Your hand wrapped around his cock, collecting some of the precum that was leaking out and lathered it all over the shaft. You kept a steady pace as you tightened your hand around him, just enough to simulate the feeling of your cunt. Your hips began to ride Miguel’s finger, your cunt eager to receive some sort of friction. He let out a moan as you cupped his balls with your other hand, your thrusts never halting.
Miguel’s palm worked up against your clit, providing you with stimulation as he pushed another finger inside of your cunt. Your walls clenched around his fingers, a tight grip around them as he moved them in and out. You curled your toes as you felt his thumb rub small circles on your clit, the sensation filling your veins with need. Your mouth was parted as you begged him to keep going, your moans filling up the room. You gripped his forearm as you came, your vision spotting as your juices coated his fingers. He brought his fingers up to his lips, sucking your juices off like you were the finest nectar.
You used both your hands to jerk Miguel off now, a tight grip on his shaft as you moved your hands up and down. He let out a small hiss as you brushed up against his tip, being a little sensitive there. You brought your mouth down to it, swirling your tongue as your hands worked to get him to that climax. He held your head in place as spurts of cum flew in your mouth, your cheeks hollowing to receive everything that he would give you. You eagerly swallowed down his cum and he pulled you in for a kiss, the taste of you and him combined overwhelming your senses.
He laid you down on the bed and kissed down your body, leaving small marks on your breasts and your stomach before he sat up. He gave his cock a couple pumps before he kneeled closer to you, placing just the tip in. You let out a small grunt as your walls fluttered, trying to accommodate to his size. "Hey, calm down. Take a couple deep breaths for me and try to relax," he tried to reassure you, his hands rubbing small circles on your thighs. You nodded and began to focus on your breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly. You did this a couple more times until you felt relaxed, gesturing Miguel to move afterwards.
He pushed the rest of his cock in one swift motion, giving you some time to adjust to the stretch. "You're so good taking me like this, mi vida. We have all night, there's no pressure," he whispered, leaning into give your neck a couple kisses. You did the same thing as last time, focusing on your breathing rather than the stinging between your legs before it started to morph into pleasure. You nodded and looked over at Miguel, and he started to slowly move his cock out of you. He started off slow, giving you plenty of time to adjust as you found necessary.
"You can speed up," you told him and he complied, his thrusts getting faster and deeper the more your cunt swallowed him up. Your hands went to his back, scratching him as he thrusted deep into you. He leaned over, attaching his mouth to one of your nipples as he ran his mouth on the neglected bud. You couldn't help but moan at just how stimulated you felt, your hand reaching down to rub circles on your clit. He swatted your hand away and replaced your hand with his own, his mouth moving to the other breast. "You just lay there and take it, baby. I’ll do all the work," he mumbled, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he sped up.
One of the ridges of his cock brushed up against your g-spot as his thrusts got deeper and you gripped his shoulders tightly. He took that as an indication and adjusted the angle so that his cock would brush up against the gummy spot with every stroke that he took. His thumb worked on rubbing quick circles on your clit and you felt that knot inside of you tightening up, threatening to snap loose at any time. "That's my girl. taking it so well," he told you and you came with a moan of his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as you did. You could hear a squelch with each thrust that he took as he chased his own orgasm, his thrusts getting sloppy quick. You looked up to see his blood-red eyes already looking at you and you brought him in for a kiss.
He came as soon as your lips came in contact with his, overwhelmed by everything around him. He managed to pull out in time and his cum was leaking onto your stomach. You picked some of it up with your pointer finger, licking it clean as you looked directly at him. He kissed you as you did, the taste of him and his essence intoxicating. He pulled out of your cunt slowly and walked to the bathroom, bringing a small towel to clean you up. He led you to the shower and lathered you up with soap, going for another round after he saw how eager you were to take him.
You woke up the next morning and frowned upon not seeing him there next to you, not expecting him to leave in the middle of the night. You got up and walked to the kitchen, seeing your boyfriend cooking breakfast in the kitchen. "I didn't wake you up, did I?" He asked when he turned to look at you, his hair sticking up in all directions. "No, I just thought you left," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you took in the sight. Miguel had stayed and he was dancing to a bachata song playing in the radio as he cooked breakfast. "I'd never leave you, mi amor. Breakfast's almost done, just sit there and wait," he told you, kissing your forehead.
He ended up making huevos rancheros for the both of you along with some fresh coffee. "Did you mop?" You asked, looking up at him as the smell of lavender Fabuloso filled your nostrils. "I did, yeah. I accidentally spilled some of the milk," he responded, taking a bite out of his eggs. The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a couple minutes before he spoke up. "Did you like last night? Is there something you'd like me to improve on?" He asked you, taking a sip from his coffee. "No, it was good. I liked it. You were attentive to my needs and everything," you assured him, finishing up with your food a couple seconds later.
He ended up calling sick to work that day and spent the day with you in your apartment. He sat down with you on the couch as he looked through job postings with you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. "You're too smart for another waitressing job. You didn't get a college degree to settle for less. Choose something that's gonna make you happy," he told you as your fingers hovered through a restaurant gig. "But what if I'm not good enough?" You asked him, still stuck in that bubble of wanting to do something familiar. "You're going to be more than good enough. And if one job doesn't like you, then there are more jobs out there," he responded, kissing the top of your head.
"Miguel?"
"Yeah, chaparra?"
"Te amo." (i love you)
"Y yo también te amo." (and i love you too)
@skulfan1
#oharaslover#miguel o’hara spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara drabble#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel atsv#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#miguel o’hara spiderverse#spiderman#spiderman smut#smut#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#spiderman atsv#miguel 2099#miguel fic#miguel fanfic#miguel x reader#miguel ohara
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kissing lessons: 2
synopsis: ellie was your first kiss, but she moved away and you never spoke again. what happens when she moves back to town ten years later?
song: kissing lessons - lucy dacus
pairing: college!ellie x reader
warnings: mean moms, implied homophobia
a/n: uhm wow thank you so much for all the love the first part 🫶 yall are angels and i love u all! thinking this is a series!!!!!!
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
“damn. you grew up.”
you laughed, coming over and pulling ellie into a hug. “so did you, jesus.” you let go of her and joel pulled you into a hug of his own. “hi mr. miller.”
“jesus kid, how many times do i have to say not to call me that! its joel.”
the air was awkward as you pulled away from them both, memories of your childhood floating through your mind. “so, uhm, what are y’all doing back here? thought you wanted to be close to tommy?”
joel sighed and leaned on the cart he had been pushing. “yea, well, ellie wanted to go to school here.”
“they’ve got a great art program.” ellie interrupted. “didn’t think id get in, but i did on a scholarship, so we decided to come back.”
you smiled at her. “wow that’s amazing, you’ll have to show me your stuff some time!”
“absolutely, shes amazing.” joel said, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “what about you, are you still in school?”
you sighed and switched your basket to the other hand. “unfortunately, last year though!” you smiled.
“thats the spirit.” joel pat you on the shoulder. “we better get going, but it’s good to see you angel. hope we get to see more of you.” he turned back to the cart, looking at the list as he headed down the cereal aisle.
ellie cleared her throat before speaking again. “hey, can i get your number? y’know so we can catch up?”
“yeah, of course!” she slipped her phone into your hands, watching as you added your number to a new contact. “it’s really good to see you.” you said as you put your free arm around her neck in a hug.
“yea it is.” her arm squeezed your middle for a moment before you both let go, heading opposite ways. “see you around angel.”
“what’s got you so smiley?” your mom wondered as she chopped vegetables beside you.
you set down the knife your were holding, turning around to lean on the counter. “you remember ellie? the girl i was, like, best friends with in elementary school?” she nodded, her eyes flashing between you and the onion. “saw her and mr. miller at the grocery store. i guess they’re moving back so ellie can go to school here.”
she hummed, no reaction on her face. “will you get the chicken out the fridge for me?” she looked up when you didn’t move, just staring at her. “what?”
“you tell me.”
she sighed and set down her knife, getting the chicken herself. “i just… i never liked that girl.” she closed the fridge door and cut open the chicken, putting it in a bowl with some seasoning. “mr. miller is very kind, and his sarah is a sweetie.” she clicked her tounge. “but ellie seemed to be a bad influence on you. something off about that girl.”
you knew exactly what she meant.
ellie was a trouble maker. back-talking teachers, and pranking neighbors. and she was never the girly-girl the moms wanted her to be. too tomboy-ish for their daughters.
too queer for them.
“whatever.” you left the kitchen, grabbing your keys and walking out the front door like you used to all those years ago. you heard your mom call out for you as you left, but you ignored her, getting in your car and pulling away.
ellie had texted you earlier to give you her number, claiming she was always free.
e: hey angel its ellie 3:48
a: hey. glad i saw you today. 3:52
a: when are you free? 3:52
e: always 3:54
a: u free now??? 5:36
e: yea come over 5:36
e: sent a pin 📍 5:37
ellie raced down the stairs as you knocked on the door, yelling at joel “i got it” before he could get up.
he laughed and turned back to the tv. she’d done that as a kid too, never more excited than when you came over. she composed herself before unlocking and opening the door, a shy smile on her face.
“hey, come in.” she stepped back, watching you come inside and slide off your shoes along side hers. she took your hand, a habit she never dropped, and led you upstairs to her room.
“hey angel!”
you smiled softly, peeking around a corner and seeing joel watching the news. “hi mr. miller.”
“it’s joel!”
ellie rolled her eyes, pulling at your arm. you scoffed, letting her guide you. “now, my room is just bones right now. im only here temporarily so…”
she wasn’t joking.
her bed frame sat against a wall not put together, all her stuff in boxes. a suitcase sat by the closet with clothes and essentials. her mattress tucked in a corner with sheets and a pillow. walls bare and books hidden.
“this is boring.” you teased as you flopped onto her mattress face first. when you looked over to ellie she was standing awkwardly at the door, hands at her sides and eyes on the floor. “what the hell are you doing?”
she shrugged, shuffling forward. “ ‘don’t know. feels weird.”
you laughed, staring at her incredulously. “you just yanked me up your stairs to your room, and now it’s weird?”
“you’re right.” she stood at the foot of the mattress before falling on top of you.
“jesus!”
ellie gasped and rolled off you. “do not say the lord’s name in vain missy! can you imagine what your mother would do if she heard?”
she felt the energy sour at the mention of your mom. “you okay?”
she watched as you sat up and followed suit, sitting criss cross in front of you. “i hate living with her. she finds a way to ruin everything.” you picked at the hole on your jeans, pulling at the white threads.
“let me guess,” ellie said, leaning onto her hands behind her. “not so happy to hear im back in town.” you looked at her with a guilty expression. “she never liked me. none of the moms did.”
“yea, well, theyre all idiots.” you huffed and picked at her jeans instead. “she just… any time im excited she has to find a way to ruin it. i just wanna move out.”
you were both silent for a minute. ellie watched as you picked and twisted the the strings on her pants, separating them just to pinch them back together. “move in with me.”
your head shot up to look at her.
#💋kissing lessons💋#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams fic#ellie willams the last of us#ellie williams tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams angst#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams
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#! — I THINK I DESERVE A KISS | w/ SKZ
pairing. OT8!skz + gn!reader
genre. fluff, slightly suggestive on Changbin's and Jisung's part, mentions of food.
warnings. mentions of food.
wc. 2.5k
synopsis. scenarios where the phrase above is used, enjoy
... ♡ | bang chan — in his studio!
“Guess who.” you whispered in Chan’s ear as you covered his eyes with your hands.
He quietly chuckled, which made your smile turn even brighter than before, and hummed, pretending to think, “Mmmh…” he reached up with his hand and slowly traced your fingers, “Bin?” he inquired, and you scoffed.
“Beeep! Wrong.” you said, sliding the palm of one of your hands to cover both of his eyes and let your other hand pinch his cheek before sliding it down his left bicep, squeezing it.
He leaned his head back on the edge of his seat’s headrest, “Wait, is it…” he bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back a snicker, “...my beautiful, amazing and absolutely perfect partner?” he asked, knowing full well how much compliments flustered you.
Your cheeks heated up, “That’s not fair! Why you gotta do this every time?” you whined as you moved your hands away from his face to cover your own.
He chuckled and spun around on his chair, pulling you down on his lap and softly kissing your hair, “I’m only telling the truth, love.” he hugged you, softly stroking your sides before his lips broke in a wide smile, “I think I deserve a kiss now, though.” he teased, and you felt your heart flutter when he gently pulled you closer as he puckered his lips.
And, with a shy smile, you leaned in, sealing your first kiss with your boyfriend.
... ♡ | lee minho — at home!
You let out a long sigh the moment you stepped in your home— the eventful, very long and stressful day finally wrapping up brought a small smile to your face, and the happy meowing of your three cats rubbing their fluffy heads on your feet and calves widened your smile even more, “Hi, babies.” you muttered, petting each of them on their heads before removing your coat and stepping further into your apartment.
That was when your nose picked up the most scrumptious smell your nose had ever picked up, coming from the kitchen, “Weird. Wasn’t Min supposed to come home late today?” you mumbled as you walked into the lit room, just to find your husband chopping up some green onions on the wooden cutting board, locking eyes with you when he heard your steps.
“Hi.” you smiled, and he mirrored it.
“Hi, jagi.”
You looked at the pots and pans on the stove with a curious look, “What are you making?”
“Your favorite. From your texts today, I guessed you were feeling pretty down, so I came home early to make dinner for us.” he explained, now chopping up some mushrooms.
You gazed at him as you pouted, “You’re so sweet.” you whined, back hugging him and pecking the nape of his neck, making him chuckle.
He looked back at you, smirking, “I think I deserve a kiss then, right? On the lips this time.” and you obliged.
... ♡ | seo changbin — at a restaurant!
“Your puppy eyes won’t work on me this time, get it?” your boyfriend grumbled as you sneakily rested your hand over his with an overexaggerated pout.
“Come ooooon… Please?” you whined while squeezing his hand, trying not to make a scene— after all, he’d brought you to a fancy restaurant for your first anniversary that was just slightly out of Seoul, and you didn't want to embarrass him or yourself in front of strangers, “Why won’t you share?” you frowned, and he huffed, taking a spoonful of the most delicious looking ice cream you’d ever seen in your entire life, which made your mouth water.
“You said that none of the desserts inspired you! It’s not— hmpf, my fault!” he said with his mouth full, scrunching his eyebrows as he munched.
You glared at him, “Okay, but those fancy names need to be paraphrased or something— how could I have ever guessed that Knickerbocker Glory was literally fruit with ice cream on top? Or that Nipples of Venus were chocolate truffles? How is that my fault? You didn't even tell me what those were, li—” you rambled, and he rolled his eyes, sliding the ice cream cup towards you with an annoyed look.
“Here, but I’m doing this just because I love you.” Changbin stated, leaning back on the backrest of his chair as he crossed his arms over his big chest.
Your eyes lit up and you immediately grabbed the cup before he could change his mind, “THANK YOU, BABY! I love you so so so much!” you said excitedly as you took a spoonful of ice cream and ate it, humming at how delicious it was.
He smiled fondly at your reaction, “I think I deserve a kiss for my kindness, to be honest.” he leaned over the rather small table while tapping his fluffy cheek with his index, which brought a smile to your face.
You leaned in and pecked it with your cold lips, “Oh, you’re so getting much more than a kiss after we get home.” you whispered in his ear, making their tip go completely red as he nervously cleared his throat and adjusted the tie around his neck.
... ♡ | hwang hyunjin — at home!
Pampering your boyfriend was your love language, and the thing you loved most was doing his skincare routine— putting on his delicate features masks, creams and oils felt therapeutic to you; seeing the way he relaxed under your touch as you conversed about pretty much anything that came to mind was your favorite part of the day.
So, when while having an early dinner he asked you if he could do your skincare routine, you bit your lip nervously and shyly agreed, though you felt slightly uncomfortable. “Y/N.” Hyunjin called out to you, so you opened your eyes and looked up at him, who was leaning over your less than relaxed figure on the couch, “If you don’t want me to do your skincare, you can just say so. I can feel how tense you are.” he said with worry in his voice and face, running his long fingers in between your locs gently.
You panicked, “No! I want you to! I just… I’m not used to people doing stuff for me. That’s it.” you smiled reassuringly and cupped his cheek with your hand.
Hyunjin smiled, “You better get used to it, then.” he said, before quickly pecking your lips and starting to apply a face mask on your face with his finger pads.
His touch was so tender you'd fallen asleep, lulled by his soft humming and the quiet lofi music he’d started playing on his speakers as he waited for the cream to dry out on your skin before continuing on with the other steps. When he finally completed your nighttime skincare routine about an hour later, he gently nudged you awake, showing you a toothy grin, which you mirrored, “I think you deserve a kiss after being this good for me.” he murmured, placing a long peck on your lips.
... ♡ | han jisung — at his dorm!
Spending the entire weekend with Jisung meant eating trash food, barely getting out of his bedroom and binge watching, and finishing, a series or anime you'd started together the week prior— and you absolutely loved it, because it meant kissing and cuddling him until one of you eventually fell asleep, which, most of the times, happened to be you.
“Baby!” he excitedly said as he squeezed the life out of you with a hug as soon as you’d walked in his dorm, which you had all to yourselves for the entire weekend, “I missed you.” he mumbled in your hair while his hand rubbed your back lovingly.
“Missed you too, Ji.” you said with a big smile, leaving a warm kiss on his cheek, which actually reminded him—
“Ah! By the way, I think I deserve a kiss on the lips now. I’ve been a very good boy.” he puckered his lips out and leaned down, waiting for your lips to meet his.
You frowned and pressed your fingers over his mouth, gently pushing him back, “Why? What did you do?” you inquired, tilting your head.
He huffed and stroked your waist as he explained, “I’ve held out from continuing to watch Demon Slayer without you, since you couldn't come last week.” he proudly said and puckered his lips out once again— but you scoffed.
“Okaaay? And? That was the bare minimum, we started watching it together, may I remind you.” you tisked, and his grip around you loosened, his eyes clouding over with sadness as he walked away.
You immediately felt guilty, “Awww, come on Ji, I’m sorry.” you started following him towards the kitchen, where he was silently heading to, “Here, baby. I’ll kiss you, you’ve been a great boy.” you whined as you took a hold of his arm and pulled him towards you, grabbing his face between your hands while you locked eyes with him, which, surprisingly, held a mischievous glint.
“I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my charm.” he teased, dipping his head down to kiss you as he pushed you against the kitchen counter.
... ♡ | lee felix — at home!
“Bubs, I’m home.”
You pouted as you slowly opened your eyes, pretty much convinced it was the dream you had every time you particularly missed Felix while he was away on tour, focusing your gaze on his kneeled down, smiling figure in front of you. “Go away.” you murmured at your boyfriend, who immediately stopped stroking your cheek.
Felix’s smile faltered and his eyes clouded over with worry, “What? What did I—” he tried to say, but you interrupted him by rolling over on your other side, now facing the backrest of your couch, a light sniffle leaving your body.
“I know you’re just an imaginary Felix, stop playing with me.” you muttered, having had enough of your dreams where he magically came back early from tour, making you feel ecstatic and happy, just to wake up the next day with no Felix in sight, making you feel even more miserable and lonely.
“Imag— What?” he blinked rapidly, trying to piece everything together— until, he let out a hearty laugh, making you puff out your cheeks and cross your hands over your chest. Still in a fit of laughter, he stood up just to lean down behind you on the couch, sneaking a hand on your stomach and slowly rubbing it, his low giggles reverberating on your back, “Bubs, I’m very much real.” he whispered in your ear, gently biting your lobe and pinching your tummy.
Oh. My. God. You felt pain. That— he was NOT, in fact, a dream.
You gasped and suddenly turned your body to face him, engulfing him in a tight hug as you pressed warm kisses on his collarbones and neck, his chuckles and soft rubs on your back making you finally feel at home, “I think I deserve a kiss after the mini heart attack you just gave me.” Felix giggled, rubbing your nose with his before crashing his lips against your own.
... ♡ | kim seungmin — at home!
You sprung up the couch when the doorbell of your apartment suddenly rang, though you weren't expecting anyone, “Coming!” you yelled, quickly running over to the front door.
As you always did, you took a glance at the peephole, widening your eyes when you noticed what it was. Your heart picked up its pace as you opened the door, “Flower delivery!” a man said with a big, very customer-service, smile as he held the most beautiful bouquet of flowers you’d ever seen.
“Woah, are these for me?” you asked with surprise in your voice, pointing to the flowers.
The delivery man tilted his head, looked at the small piece of paper he was holding in his free hand, then at the name stamped under your doorbell and, finally, at you, “Are you Mx. Y/L/N Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“Then yes. Have a nice day!” he said in a cheery tone as he stretched out his arms towards you to give you the bouquet, which you happily took with a smile and a fast paced heartbeat.
You walked back inside of your flat, careful not to trip over anything on your way to your living room windowsill, where you kept an empty flower vase in case you saw any cute flowers while out on a walk and felt the need to bring them back home, which happened regularly. You giggled as you carefully put the bouquet inside of it, your eyes never leaving the small piece of paper that stood proudly right in between the petals that said “For my beautiful flower. —Minnie <;33”
You internally screamed from happiness, picking up the white paper giddily and flipping it over, but rolled your eyes after reading “I think I deserve a kiss after being the bestest and most romantic boyfriend ever, don’t you think?”
“Come home, bestest boyfriend ever.” you texted him a few seconds after with a big grin on your face.
... ♡ | yang jeongin — at the arcade!
“I want that one, Innie!” you said excitedly when Jeongin asked you which of the big stuffed animals you wanted him to win for you, pointing to the massive teddy bear standing right in the middle of the cubicle of the claw machine. He gulped nervously, taking one of the arcade tokens you’d exchanged for money a few minutes ago from his front pocket.
He glanced at you, his heart fluttering when you smiled widely at him and said “I believe in you, Innie!” in tiny, with your fist up in the air— in full cheerleader mode.
What he didn't expect, was for that damned teddy to not want to get caught by him, which made him feel extremely embarrassed— but, when he failed at his fourth attempt and you proposed to him to go play another game with a reassuring smile and a warm hand on his shoulder, he felt recharged. “Wait, Y/N-nnie! Let me try again one last time, I’ll win, you’ll see!” he said confidently, rolling up his long sleeved shirt to his forearms, which made your cheeks warm up.
And, a few seconds later, the teddy finally let itself get caught by Jeongin, who proudly handed it to you, “See? Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” he grinned, showing you his foxy eyes and white teeth.
You chewed your bottom lip, looking into his dark eyes, “I think… Uhm, I think you deserve a kiss for winning it for me?” you said, unsure if he was down for it. After all, that was your first date and—
“I— Uh. Yes, I— I think I do deserve a kiss.” he smiled shyly and took your free hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb as he cupped your cheek with his other one. You gulped and moved your gaze from his eyes to his parted lips quickly, tugging his hand as a signal for him to lean down and finally take the kiss he deserved.
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© SVNGIEM, 2023.
#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz fanfic#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader#skz scenarios#skz x reader#stray kids fanfic#kpop imagines#stray kids soft hours#skz soft hours#stray kids soft thoughts#skz soft thoughts#fluff scenarios#stray kids fluff#felix fluff#seungmin fluff#skz fluff#hyunjin fluff#minho fluff#chan fluff#bang chan fluff#changbin fluff#han jisung fluff#jisung fluff#jeongin fluff#kpop fluff#skz#stray kids#kpop bg
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reconciliation — mat barzal
some barzy smut for you all :) wanted to wait posting this but those videos of him playing guitar just came out so we are all in desperate need for this rn!! as a reminder: video one two
word count: 2.9k
warning: SMUT (18+) & undisclosed fight (sorry I was too lazy to come up with a better backstory so just know it was fairly bad fight and this starts a couple hours afterwards)
You laid awake, desperately trying to fall asleep, but your fight with your boyfriend played in your head over and over again. It was so stupid and you hated that you were still mad, especially since he was leaving for a few days the next day. But you were too stubborn to be the bigger person and turn around and apologize.
Mat felt the same, though, the sleepless ness getting to him and turning around to face your back. He wrapped an arm around you and gently kissed your cheek. "Hey," he whispered, pulling himself closer to you until you were perfectly nestled to him. "We said we'd never go to sleep angry. I'm sorry. I love you."
You nodded, but didn't turn to face him. Your hand lifted to cradle his cheek and with an 'I love you, too' you both were finally able to fall asleep.
***
You spent the next few days alone, Mat being gone on a roadie. While you hadn't exactly talked about your fight, you mutually decided to just drop it since neither of you wanted to stay angry at each other. You face timed every day like normal, although there wasn't any spicy time that you would usually share. You saved that for after he hung up.
You could hear the music blasting from your apartment before you even stepped inside. Mat was back, since the early afternoon actually, but you were stuck at work. Yelling for him when you stepped foot inside the apartment wouldn't work, so after getting rid of you jacket and shoes you went to look for him. And what a sight when you did. He was dancing and singing along to the music, while attempting to chop an onion.
"Whatcha doin?" He jumped at your voice, dropping the knife and almost cutting himself.
"Don't scare me like that!" The shock on his face claimed after a second and he went to turn down the music and wash his hands before he pulled you in for a hug. "Missed you."
"Missed you." After a long kiss, you looked around to figure out what he was doing. "You're making dinner? For me?"
"Hey! I cook for you."
"Mhm."
"What? I do! You're just better than me that’s why I don’t do it so much." You patted his chest with a chuckle and kissed him again, shutting him up.
You helped him prepare the meal for a bit, before you went to go take a shower. Since seeing him today, especially in the kitchen, you had felt incredibly horny and devised a plan on how your night would go. But shower first.
After lotioning up and making you smell irresistible, you slipped into some sexy matching lingerie. You pulled on of his boxers overtop to be comfortable, but also show off your ass, and one of his white tshits that would show him exactly what was going on underneath.
You set the table when you came back and not long after you sat down for dinner. Throughout eating, you brushed your hair seductively and made some inappropriate noises, to get him riled up. And he did, but he could see exactly through what you were doing, so he didn't make a move. While he did want to flip this table to get to you, he just sat there staring at you, looking at wherever you wanted him to.
"This actually was pretty good," you said, taking a sip of you water. "I just hope desert is better."
His eyes darkened while you smirked at him. You were both staring at each other, fueling the heat in each of your bodies until you got enough.
"I must be getting my period or something, because I have been so horny these past few days," his body twitched, wanting to reach out to you. "Too bad you weren't there."
You got up to take both of your plates to the sink. "But don't worry, our pink friend helped me out a lot."
"What?!" You smiled at him from where you leaned against the kitchen island, showing off your legs. "And I didn't get a video or a call? Baby, come on." He was frustrated and tried to stand, but with a show of hand you got him to sit down again. You stalked over to him until you stood directly in front of him, looking down.
"I guess I was still mad at you," you said and slowly let you hands trace his cheek. Then you sat down on his lap where he immediately gripped your hips. Then you leaned down to whisper in his ear, "and I thought you should earn to see them."
"So... So, you did take a video?," he asked, his voice stammering.
"Maybe." You lips traced his jaw. "Maybe there's more than one." You let your hip roll, meeting his hard erection. "What are you going to do to earn the right to see them?"
He groaned as his head fell back. "Fuck, baby, anything. I'll do anything."
With that, you finally let him kiss you.
"Well? Show me what you got." And he did. You gave the control over to him and without hesitation he had you up and pressed down on the dining table. With a hard pull, your boxers and panties were off and he was staring down at you like a wild animal.
"God, you're so hot." His hands massaged your thighs before pulling your shirt up to expose your breasts contained in your black lace bra. He bent to to trace the outline of your tits with his lips. Swiftly, he ripped both cups down, exposing them all the way.
"Yes, suck them, Mat. Please ... please suck them," you begged, the sound so desperate that he complained immediately with a moan. He cupped your breast in his hand, squeezing it hard as he sucked your nipple between his lips. You moaned together and your hand got ahold of his head, pushing him into you. He played with both of your tits, sucking, nipping, licking, and squeezing, until you both got impatient and he got back down on his knees with a smirk. "Ready?"
His mouth descended onto your slick pussy, to which your pelvis shot up to meet his face. "Oh fuck." Hands still on your thighs, he took long, languid strokes with his tongue. You squirmed beneath him as he lapped away at you, never fully pushing all the way in against your clit, just staying around the outside, prepping you for what he had planned.
With two fingers, he spread you wide, exposing your clit, and then lowered his tongue to just above it.
And he hovered, letting you feel his heavy breath and the scruff of his jaw against your inner thigh.
"Mathew," you moaned. "Please."
With his hand that wasn't spreading her, he moved it back up your body, and just as he pinched your left nipple between your fingers, he press his tongue against your clit.
"Oh my . .. fuck." Your eyes squeezed shut, arching into him. He did it again. And again. And again. "More," you begged. "I need more."
In response, Mat pressed his tongue against your slit and lightly flicked at it, creating a vibration against the nub that caused you to grip his head and dig your fingers digging into his scalp. "Fuck, Maty. Oh my God . . . keep going."
His eyes lifted, to keep them on you to watch your reactions as he continued to pleasure you at a relentless pace. Your body grew tighter and tighter and your breath picked up as you got closer and closer to the edge.
His tongue attacked your clit more aggressively, pushing against it, sucking it. Your moans grew louder and your body tensed. Then your orgasm crashed over you, sending you into full body tremors. "Fuck... fuck." Mat sucked and licked you up until the tremors subsided and you laid there, limp, on the table.
Mat got back on his feet and bent over you to kiss you gently. His lips pressed small wet kisses along your neck and collarbone, until you had recovered enough to gain function over your limbs again. Your first act was to pull his shit off his chest, then you clung to him, wrapping both your legs and arms around him.
With his strong arms, Mat picked you up and set you in his lap when he plumped into your living room couch. "I love eating your sweet little pussy, feeling it clench around my tongue," he whispered into your ear as he pulled your hair. "But I love feeling it clench around my cock even more."
You moaned as your head fell into the crook of his neck. You were ready and desperate for him again and he knew immediately by the way you were rocking your hips, searching for his cock.
"You love that, too, eh? Feeling my dick pulsing deep inside you." You nodded quickly, hoping it would get him to do something faster. And he did, pulling his dick out of his sweatpants, pumping it a couple times in front of your eyes. Then he pulled on your hair, making you sit up straight while he leaned back. "Ride me. But don't let me inside you. I want to see just how slick that pussy is."
Your hungry eyes connected, but both of your heads soon fell back with moans as you slowly moved your wet cunt over his cock. "Oh my God, Maty, this feels... incredible."
"You feel incredible," he says in response as you fell forward, bringing your breast into him mouth. He focused on your nipple, swirling around it with his tongue, flicking and then nibbling just enough that you sucked in a sharp breath of air. With his hand, he did the same thing to your other breast as you continued to rock on him.
"I can come just like this," you say, your hands falling to his chest and your pelvis lifting just slightly to get a better angle. "Fuck, I'm already close."
"Then come. Use me, fuck me like this." His moans spurred you on, driving you closer to the edge.
Your lips pressed together, as your eyes squeezed shut and your pace picked up. Your thrusts became more erratic until you reached your orgasm. "Fuck!" Your body shook and spasmed as you rode out your orgasm until there was nothing left to take. The you collapsed on top of him.
"That was so hot," he whispered, his voice raspy. "Now be a good girl and lie down." You obeyed, falling into to cushions exhausted. "Turn."
When you did, he gave your ass a hard slap, the echo of your skin filling the air. Then he moved a pillow under your pelvis and gave your ass another slap, before he moved his thumb over your arousal, swirling it around your entrance, and positioning his cock where he wants it.
With gritting teeth, he pushed his hips forward and with a hard thrust he pushed in his cock in your pussy until he bottomed out. You both moaned loudly and his grip got tighter on your hips as he tried to restrain himself. "More," you moaned as you started moving your hips.
"Babe, don't move. Please... fuck." You moved your pelvis anyway, and he matched the thrusts because he was as desperate as you. "I won't last."
"Do it, Mat. Fuck me as hard as you can." With a groan, the grip on your hips tightened again as he started pumping into you relentlessly. He had no control, all he was doing was fucking you chasing his release. Your pussy gripped his cock so tightly, spurring on both of your thrusts. He was pushing into you so hard, that the sound of your skin slapping was so loud, you thought the neighbors would be able to hear it.
"I'm right there. Fuck, I'm there," he groaned and moaned until he exploded inside you. Thick, warm ropes of his cum coated your insides. "Fuuuuck."
Out of nowhere, you started shaking as you reached your third orgasm. Your vision went black and your breath hitched while milking the last drops of his cum. Your body felt like jello as you came down from your high. Mat collapsed next to you, but you barely registered it. You were to exhausted to move or speak, so you laid there catching your breath.
Eventually, Mat's arm snuck around you and turned you to pull you into his chest. "Good enough to get that video?"
"Mhm," was all you answered and he smiled victorious, but little did he know he wasn't going to see it for a couple more weeks...
***
You had expected the call. After finally sending him the video of yourself playing with your pink vibrator, you had expected him to call you. For your own pleasure in the situation, like you hadn't had enough fun messing with him, you had sent the video at a time you knew he would see the notification but wouldn't be able to open it for another few hours. You reveled in the fact that he would be on the edge, dying to open that video, but couldn't because he was with his team in mandatory meetings.
You had expected the call. Which is why you were already ready and waiting in bed. What you didn't expect though, was to see Mat's fist wrapped around his cock moving up and down, instead of his face.
The camera flipped to show his face after a moment, revealing a very turned on Mat. "You little slut. You enjoyed that, didn't you? Torturing me even more by dangling that video in front of me?"
You smiled as you sank back into your pillows. "Yes."
"Turned you on, eh? Messing with me like that." He moved his phone so that you could see him from his thighs up and, god, nothing beat that view. "See what you do to me? Fuck, baby, that video was so hot. Screaming my name like that when I wasn't even there. All mine. You're mine." You were on edge and your hand itched to slide between your legs. "Did you have fun without me?"
"Wasn't that video proof enough?," you teased him again, but you knew it wasn't as good as it was without him.
"Tell me the truth or I'm hanging up."
You rubbed your hand over your panties and gave in. "Nothing feels right when you're not here." You need him and hear his voice to get off. "God, Maty, I'm so on edge right now. I need you." You positioned the camera so he, too, could see your body.
"Alright, I'll be nice. Strip. Take those fucking panties off and let me see your wet cunt." You did as instructed, even taking your bra off. "Now glide your fingers up and down your body and around your breasts without touching your nipples. Just like that, baby. Slower, I want you to feel how soft your skin is."
As your hand slid across your skin, you regretted teasing him for so long because you had a feeling he was going to do the same to you. "Slide your fingers closer to your pussy, tease yourself the way I'd tease you. Get close to your slit but don't touch yourself."
Your hand lowered and, when you got close enough, your pelvis lifted. "Don't fucking touch that cunt. It's mine."
"Don't make me wait," you groaned, throwing your head back in agony.
"Now who's talking."
"You liked it, I know it." You smirked, then dared to move your hand closer to your center.
"Shush. Spread your legs more and slowly spread those lips for me." You did, moaning at the sensation. "Fuck, look at you. I wish I was there, eating that wet pussy. Sucking on your clit, driving my dick so hard inside you that you can practically taste my cum in the back of your throat."
"Maty, I need more. Please," you begged as you breathing increased. You were so wet already and so close to your orgasm when you hadn't even really touched yourself yet. When you looked to your phone, you saw Mat started pumping his cock again.
"My dick is so hard, baby. Shit. Yes, go, finger yourself. I need to see you touch yourself."
Finally, you got two fingers to slowly circle your clit. "Oh, fuck," you yelled as head fell back again and your eyes rolled back in ecstasy.
"That's it, baby, keep up the pace. I need you to match my strokes. Pinch your nipple too. I want you to mark yourself."
Your hips lifted as your fingers sped up, chasing your release. And it was getting close. You looked to your phone, where Mat was still grunting while he worked himself. You saw a big bead of precum spill out of the tip of his cock, then he moaned loudly. "I'm there. Fuck, I'm gonna cum."
"Me too." You had no idea if he heard you, but your orgasm started crashing over you and you lost track of all of your senses for a moment. Your spams started slowly and then descended into full body shudders that left you screaming his name.
While you caught your breath, you turned to take your phone back into your hand. You saw Mat with a small smile looking at you, hand still around his cock, but his sticky cum spilled on his skin.
"You are an evil little woman," he said, which made you laugh. "But, god, what I wouldn't do for you."
#mat barzal#mathew barzal#mat barzal smut#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#nhl smut#nhl fic#nhl Imagine#smut#hockey fic#hockey smut#mat barzal x reader
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Summary: Both you and Spencer surprise each other, but one surprise is bigger than the other
Sitting around and waiting was never something you were good at, whether it be reading a magazine at the line in the supermarket or trying to learn a new language while you were sick, being still was just too boring. So when Spencer let you know that he’s going to be late at work, staying at home wasn’t an option.
You and Spencer had agreed to spend the evening together, having a nice dinner and watching a new foreign film that Spencer found. You knew that your boyfriend was going to be dead tired after work so you decided to head over to his place and give him a nice surprise.
Unlocking the door to Spencer’s apartment and walking in, an involuntary gasp left your mouth. Books scattered the floor, dishes were piled in the sink and what looked like a heap of dirty laundry was peeking out of the closet door. The apartment was a mess and you wondered when was the last time Spencer had a chance to clean his home. Knowing that Spencer had just gotten back from a two week case from California, the mess across the apartment was most probably a result from the past few days when Spencer got to be home for a change and knowing how much he likes to spend every waking moment of his with a book in his hands, every other task at hand got pushed to the side.
Closing the door and carefully walking across the books, trying not to trip in the process, you walked to Spencer’s bedroom and rifled through his clothes until you found it, a worn but very well loved Beatles shirt. It was your favorite shirt of his and you made it a habit to wear it every time you came over to spend the night. Wearing it made you feel like you were constantly in Spencer’s arms and Spencer didn’t mind you wearing it at all, especially since it smelled of you later on and, unbeknownst to you, he would take it with him on longer cases so he wouldn’t miss you too badly.
Changing into Spencer’s shirt and walking back into the living room, you carefully picked up the books and made stacks of them, leaving them be and deciding it would be best to ask Spencer later which book goes where. After picking up the laundry and washing the dishes you finally got to look through the fridge to see if there was anything edible in the house besides ramen noodles. Luckily there were some ingredients that didn’t look nearing their end and you decided a small pasta dish wouldn’t be too bad of a choice.
As you continued to boil the pasta and chop the ingredients you didn’t hear as Spencer unlocked the door and walked inside. His brows furrowed when he heard the sounds of chopping and boiling from inside and carefully peeked over the side and sighed in relief when he saw your figure from the corner of his eye.
Spencer took his time walking into the kitchen as he was mesmerized by seeing you stirring the pots and quickly hopping to the side to cut up some more onions. When reaching the doorway he stood by the door and smiled as he continued to watch you. A moment later he carefully walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you which caused you to jump.
“Jesus! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Spencer chuckled and kissed the side of your head, “Sorry sweetheart.”
“Sorry my a-,” you turned around to face him, but before you managed to finish your sentence you noticed something, Spencer’s hair, it was different, it was cut, Spencer got a haircut.
What were previously long brown strands that ended just above his chin were now short, slightly curly at the sides, and to your surprise, his nape was bare.
Spencer’s eyes went wide and looked at you up and down and grinned, “Is that my shirt?”
“Yeah, it’s comfortable, you know I like it,” you chuckled and raked your fingers through his hair, “You cut your hair.”
“Mhm, do you like it?”
You took a breath and continued to brush your fingers through his locks, you liked it, you really did like it actually. Spencer looked like a smug college boy who knew that he was all that, and you hated that you loved it. The undercut was especially appealing, but it was bugging you a bit.
“I do like it, Spence, a lot, but…”
“What’s wrong?”
You bit your lip as you glanced at him, “Well I liked it when your hair was a bit longer ‘cause it was something I could grab onto when we’re kissing you know.”
Spencer laughed and pressed his lips to your forehead, “Hmm I’m sorry hun, I’ll let it grow out for a bit if you’d like?”
“Maybe, we’ll see. In the meantime I guess I’ll have to use this,” you grabbed onto Spencer’s tie and pulled him close as you pressed your lips to his gently. Spencer chuckled and rested his hands on your sides as he pulled you in closer.
A moment later you pulled away quickly as you heard the water boil over and hurried over to push the pot to the side. Spencer chuckled and wrapped his arms around you again as you cleaned up, “See what happens when you cut your hair? I get distracted.”
Spencer laughed and kissed the side of your jaw, “Now you know how I feel when you wear my clothes.”
You chuckled, “I guess we’re even then.”
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Dolcezza II
Read the first part here: Dolcezza
Glad we liked the first part so much! More tooth-rotting cuteness, sweetness, fluff, and the tiniest bit of angst.
This part (as is tradition with my second parts) doesn't really make a whole lot of cohesive sense, but the next parts should be a little more put together as a whole.
~6.7k words
“I think I would let her break m’heart,” he told Niall while they cleaned the kitchen at the end of the night about a month after she had moved in. His infatuation never wavered. But he admired her from afar. “I’d thank her,” he smiled to himself as he pretended the gravity of such a statement was a joke. Not nearly as big a deal as Niall knew it to be.
He knew he was staring. From the second he laid eyes on her, the staring started. There was no other way to describe what had happened. Harry was overwhelmed with how pretty she looked. She emanated beauty and kindness like perfume. Harry was sick with how much he adored it. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was her sole purpose in life just to look so beautiful and make him, specifically, speechless. Principessa rolled off his tongue the moment he saw her. Even though she was stunned and uttering a sad little sound of injury that he regrettably caused when she tumbled to the ground. It was instinctive. She was a princess. It was obvious.
But after only a few moments of time spent together... Maybe it was only obvious to everyone but her.
Or maybe Harry was just so overwhelmed it was just one of those things. He wasn’t kidding when he told her. Compulsive. It seemed wrong to call her anything but Principessa.
In the time that she moved in, to the present, Harry was the butt of most jokes when it came to his infatuation with her. “Is that our Principessa?” Niall teased Harry frequently. Especially when he looked longingly out the front window. The restaurant was set up so there was an opening from the kitchen peering over the main room. It wasn’t the biggest restaurant in the world, but people lined up on the sidewalk in any weather every Thursday, Friday, Saturday night without fail. The other nights were comfortably busy, and Harry was so grateful to work in a place as nice as this. Antonio was the best boss and Niall was one of his best friends.
Even more of a reason Niall teased Harry when the pretty girl got in and out of her car parked out front of the building with her phone pressed to her ear or something on her hip carrying it up the steps to her place. It took every ounce of Harry’s self-control not to run out there and take her stuff from her in the middle of cooking something every time he saw her so that he could help her.
Harry knew Niall was kidding but he didn’t like the way he said it. The teasing didn’t feel nice, and she deserved—no needed—everything that had to do with her be the nicest and sweetest thing in the world. “Ni, she’s so pretty and sweet,” he reminded him as they chopped the veggies for the day. Niall smirked at his friend who was staring at carrots and onions like they were the features of her face.
“She is pretty,” he nodded knowingly, toning down the sound of teasing in his voice. It was nice to hear Harry talk about someone like that. It had been a long while since he cared for someone the way he seemed to care for her already. Niall saw how captivated Harry was by her the second he saw her. He knew his friend was totally done for; but it was nice.
For a number of years (and after several bad bouts of heartache) Harry claimed he didn’t have time to fall in love. He worked six nights a week. On his day off, he often found himself at the restaurant anyway because his best friends were there. Work didn’t feel like work for Harry. So, dating would have been a distraction, a complication. Something Harry couldn’t fathom because of how busy his work kept him.
But Niall knew it was really that Harry thought it was too much to bear another heartbreak. Heartbreak that may not even happen, as Niall liked to point out. But Harry couldn’t see it that way.
Not until she was there, knocking Harry off his feet literally and figuratively.
“I think I would let her break m’heart,” he told Niall while they cleaned the kitchen at the end of the night about a month after she had moved in. His infatuation never wavered. But he admired her from afar. “I’d thank her,” he smiled to himself as he pretended the gravity of such a statement was a joke. Not nearly as big a deal as Niall knew it to be.
Harry thought it was fate he always managed to catch sight of her whenever she was outside the restaurant; usually at her car grabbing something or putting it away. Other times, when she entered the restaurant, he was always able to see her kindly holding the door for an older couple or waving to a small child. Harry thought it was some unknown power that drew him to her and made him catch her eye every time she was within vision and distance.
She gave a wave to the host and sauntered through the main room to get to the bar just on the other side of the opening to the kitchen. A perfect view for him to admire her while he peeled veggies for Niall to chop throughout the night.
“Hi Principessa,” he smiled at her through the opening from the kitchen, just as he did every time that she situated herself in his view. Maybe Harry was reading into it. He knew he was a little lovesick with the idea of her. He tried to dial it back as much as possible so as not to scare her. But there were some things he simply couldn’t help.
On Wednesdays, she sat at the bar, ordered a drink, and ate some food. She always asked for a side of extra garlic bread and always asked if she could have a bigger portion (the angel she was, she promised she would of course pay more; she just wanted some for lunch the next day). Harry loved Wednesdays so he could gaze at her extensively from that opening to the kitchen. She usually read a book or chatted with whoever was bartending. Every so often, she would strike up a conversation with someone near her making them fall hopelessly in love with her as well. It was usually a sweet older woman who wanted to set her up with her son who was much too young for her.
Harry couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that wracked his body when someone else flirted with her. There was a bit of possessiveness to his infatuation, but he was good at separating himself from it. She wasn’t his and it was okay. If she wanted to date someone, it had nothing to do with him. He would continue to admire her from afar.
But then she would make eye contact with him. He was already looking at her and her eyelids would droop a little and she would look up at him shyly through the prettiest eyelashes he had ever seen, and he hadn’t once thought about eyelashes in his entire life. “Hi Harry,” she smiled so prettily, it made his stomach flip. He felt like a child, the way his cheeks warmed to hear his name on her lips. He busied himself with another task—stirring the tomato sauce to keep it from sticking to the bottom of the pot while it simmered. If he could, he would have stared through that opening and watched her the whole time.
Harry was considering quitting his kitchen job so he could be a bartender on Wednesdays just to be another ten feet closer to her. If it weren’t for her kind smile and her sweet voice, Harry would think he was being a bit of an overwhelming presence. But other than making sure all her furniture was properly anchored, he tried to maintain a normal distance from her and only asked her how she was doing each time he saw her. The last thing Harry wanted was to worry her about his presence in her life. Yes, he was effectively in love with her just at first glance. But he wasn’t so enveloped in the feeling that he couldn’t separate himself from it. He would much rather be friends with her than scare her with unwanted attention.
“Go talk to her, it’s slow,” Niall encouraged.
Harry didn’t need to be told twice and hurried to behind the bar and made small talk with her. It took a half hour, and her smile made his stomach churn in the best way. He hadn’t felt this way in so long and he was so glad she was there.
It was unbelievably easy to talk to her. They talked about the restaurant and how her job was going. It was nice she didn’t have to commute far and got to work from home most of the week. She inquired about the coffee shop up the road and if he had any good recommendations for shopping. Harry leaned against the bar and handed over the food from Niall from the window. She asked him if this is what he always wanted to do. He wasn’t sure but he liked it a lot and for now couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He attended culinary school and Antonio was one of the guest chefs in one of his classes. Harry took to him immediately and wanted to work for him and help however he could. He took over the old Italian bakery that was here before him, from his parents and turned it into Dolcezza and while he kept a lot of recipes it was nice to make it a place of his own.
Harry wanted to spend the rest of his life at the bar gazing at the pretty girl while she ate her eggplant parmesan and garlic bread. He wanted to ask her more about herself. Because Harry got the feeling that people didn’t really check on her. There was also an uncomfortable look in her eye when he asked about her job and her life. It was more evident by the moving herself in nearly alone.
“D’you need help with anything, kitten?” He asked.
The furrow between his eyebrows made her want to reach out and smooth the wrinkle there. Harry seemed distraught. But the idea that he was asking if she needed anything made her uncomfortable in a way that was hard to explain. Her parents relied on her a lot—the oldest of three. Her younger siblings relied on her a lot too. Her sister was always sending her essays to read. Her brother asked her for help on his math assignments at least once a week.
They lived more than an hour away from her and the only time she saw them was when she was the one going to visit them. While there, it made her anxious to see her sister leave their parents’ house, a mess from all of her belongings spread on every available surface. Visiting her brother made her anxious for a multitude of other reasons. She thought he was on the fast track to a drinking problem and was constantly reminding him of such to the point he would say things like “don’t worry, Mom.”
She loved her family. There was no question about it. But it was nice to have space between them. It was hard to move away during college and watch them struggle for a few months without her presence to essentially keep everyone in line. Her mother called her the project coordinator of the family. Stuff didn’t get done without her. It felt like she had to tell her mom and dad how to parent her younger siblings a lot of the time. It was exhausting.
So, space was good, regardless of how much she worried about them and their ability to take care of themselves.
As for her friends, Eleanor moving away was worse than any heartbreak she had ever experienced. It was fresh still and she felt really alone without her there to paint her toes or read trashy romance novels while they had spa nights where Louis would bring them pizza. Other than Eleanor, her friends walked all over her. Eleanor watched it firsthand and was happy to tell her it was happening.
She had to separate herself from the group as well—especially once they finished school because if she didn’t, she would probably be cooking dinner for some of them each week or doing their grocery shopping because they were too lazy.
She had done everything on her own for most of her life. She rarely even asked Eleanor for anything. Eleanor usually forced her help onto her which was a necessity in Eleanor’s eyes.
So no. She didn’t need Harry’s help with anything.
But she sort of wished she did, just so he would chat with her for longer.
“Hey Harry,” Niall called through the window. Harry took a quick glance around the restaurant seeing the dinner rush filling in quickly. Unfortunately, he had to get back to Niall’s side and leave her.
He enjoyed talking to her so much, enjoying her gentle laughter. He wanted to give her a kiss good night.
For as long as he could remember, Harry’s favorite color was always orange or blue. But now his favorite color was pink—the color of her cheeks whenever he flirted with her. “Have a good night, Principessa,” he smiled. A wink to replace a kiss he so desperately wanted caused the color to flood her cheeks and he was so grateful that he got to see that pretty, favorite color of his.
“Night, Harry,” she looked so utterly pretty it made him feel like he was melting.
*
Leonardo was Antonio’s four-year-old little boy. He was full of energy and life and made the restaurant a mess when he was around. His skin was olive-toned and with dark wavy hair. He looked like the prince of Italy and acted like it when he arrived.
It was all hands-on deck when he was around. One second without supervision he would be under a table in the main room or sneaking a meatball from the sauce in the kitchen on a plate ready to be served. At least, that’s how it usually was. Today, Leo was situated at the bar coloring in an activity book with the help of the sweet angel that Harry didn’t think he could possibly love more. But somehow here she was, a delight with kids and another piece of Harry was completely captured by her lovely persona.
“Hey Leo, who’s y’pretty date?” Harry asked ruffling his hair as he passed into the kitchen. Leo held up the book, a few of the markers he was using fell to the floor. He winked at the sweet girl as she hopped down from her seat to grab them. Her face turned that gorgeous pink he dreamed about at his sweet words and the little gesture he made toward her. She grinned back at him with a little eye roll at his kind compliment.
Leo giggled sweetly as he showed off his coloring book. “We’re coloring.”
“Oh? S’lovely. Can y’color something for me t’hang in the kitchen?” Harry asked. He nodded excitedly and went to work on the next page. “Y’on Leo duty?”
“M’babysitting,” Leo explained before she could get a word out.
“Excusa,” Harry chuckled. “You’re babysitting, Leo?” Harry repeated, while she put the markers back in front of Leo and got back into her seat.
“He is,” she smirked. “Mumma and Dadda came in to eat with Leo. Their sitter cancelled and they mentioned they haven’t been on a date since they found out about the baby almost four months ago,” she explained. “So, I asked if Leo would want to keep me company tonight.”
Harry’s heart warmed as it always did because of her kindness. Selflessness. It was overwhelming. “S’nice, Principessa.”
“Prin-pessa?” Leo asked, his little lisp messing up the nickname. He turned his attention back to the girl beside him with wide eyes. She shook her head at Harry.
“Oh yeah, Leo,” Harry nodded affirmatively ignoring her little brush off—noticing that her cheeks were once more warming at his nickname for her. “Don’t y’think she looks like a princess?”
He nodded in agreement. She rolled her eyes again, but the smile and pink of her cheeks remained on her face, which made Harry feel like he had won the lottery. “I’m hungry,” Leo told her.
“Yeah? Want some spaghetti?” She asked.
He nodded. “Can I help make it?”
She glanced behind her at the rush of people coming in and knew that a little one in the kitchen would not be ideal. “Hmm...I think we better let Harry take care of dinner. But after you eat, we can head upstairs and make something yummy for dessert. How’s that sound?”
He nodded. “So, we can keep coloring?”
“Absolutely.”
Harry didn’t want to cook. He didn’t want to move from that window and move his gaze away from the angel sitting at the bar. She was too good and Harry was too in love. It seemed impossible that he would get anything done for the rest of his life if she was going to be around.
But he wouldn’t want her anywhere else.
*
Leo was getting cranky toward the end of the night. He wanted to see his mom and dad and she was struggling to maintain a bit of control. He was in a t-shirt she had from a 5k she and Eleanor had walked for charity. He was missing his mom and dad, and she knew it wasn’t going to be easy to keep him calm until they came to pick him up. By then, he would be sound asleep.
Hopefully.
“Do you want to watch a movie, honey?” She asked as he got more teary and grumpier by the second.
He shook his head. She could see the frustration in his little body. She frowned at his response. “Hey, Leo?” She said softly. “I know you’re upset and you’re missing Mommy and Daddy. We gotta pass the time a little bit so they’ll be back faster. Can you think of something you’d like to do while we wait?”
“Can we color more?”
She had left the coloring supplies at the restaurant. Leo had his own little cubby out back in the staff room behind the kitchen. Harry had brought it back there for her after they left to make their cupcakes. It didn’t seem like something she needed when she moved in because she hadn’t necessarily planned on babysitting. But now she was already considering her Target run tomorrow to get activities the next time she offered to watch Leo.
She was quick on her feet though. “Yeah, let me just...see if Harry can bring it up.”
As she dialed on her phone to call the restaurant, she wondered who would answer. By now she had lived above the Italian oasis for nearly three months. They all knew her name and she was surprised they didn’t have her number saved. “Dolcezza Ristorante, how can I help you?”
“Hi...uh...can I talk to Harry?”
“Harry?” The voice asked curiously. She didn’t know who it was unfortunately. She was hoping it would be one of Antonio’s nephews but alas. She could tell the girl at the other end of the line didn’t like that she was requesting Harry’s attention.
She felt a wave of awkwardness wash over her. “Err...yeah.”
There was a bit of silence, some chatter as whoever answered walked toward the kitchen. She could hear the clanging of dishes and pans, the dishwasher humming as she got closer. There was a muffled exchange of words. “Me?” Her face warmed at the sound of the voice that she was certain she could pick out of a crowd. It made her feel ridiculous that she recognized Harry’s voice.
Even more ridiculous that her heart skipped a beat at the sound of it as well.
“Hello?” He sounded confused as he answered. But his voice sounded so warm. Like someone reading a bedtime story to her. Even though he only spoke one word.
“Hi Harry,” she smiled into the phone.
There was a loud clang from his end as something clearly toppled to the floor. There was an uproar of voices shouting and a few curse words. She had to pull the phone away from her ear at the noise and she glanced at Leo briefly. She was grateful he was feigning calmness as he waited utterly patiently—especially for a for a four-year-old, close to bed time, and missing his mom and dad. “Uh...sorry... Hi, Principessa,” he murmured. “Y’okay? Something wrong?” He asked nervously.
There was a pang of adoration for someone that cared about her well-being. No one ever really worried about her. Except for Eleanor. It wasn’t her fault but there was only so much Eleanor could worry about from a plane ride away. “No, no... we’re fine,” she promised. “Just...I hate to bother you, but if you have a minute, could you bring the coloring book up here? Leo’s missing Mommy and Daddy and wants to color some more to pass the time till they get here,” she explained.
“Oh, yeah. ‘Course,” the sound of the kitchen dissipated as he walked toward that back room to get Leo’s book. “I’ll be right up,” the phone call ended and shortly after she heard his footsteps coming up the steps and a gentle knock on the door.
She hurried to open it, Leo following behind her and peering from behind her legs. There Harry was, leaning against the door frame. Looking like a model even though he was holding a children’s coloring book. “Hi Principessa,” he smiled brightly.
“Hi Harry,” she grinned and knelt beside Leo. “Can you say thank you to Harry?” She asked.
He looked up at Harry. “Thanks, Harry,” his lower lip stuck out and he sniffled rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.
“No problem, lad... y’okay? Y’miss Mummy and Daddy?” He nodded, looking at the floor and turned into her embrace to hide the tears as he sniveled. She rubbed her hand along her back. Harry crouched in front of them as well. She frowned and Harry reached out to smooth his hair down. “I know y’miss them, but y’get t’hang out with this pretty Principessa and color. And when y’go t’sleep Mummy and Daddy will be back,” he reminded him.
He sniffled and rubbed his eye, turning back to Harry. “Can you color with us?” He asked.
“Aw, Leo, honey. Harry’s working right now,” she whispered rubbing his back and kissed the top of his head.
His lower lip wiggled with a threat of tears exploding from him again. “I can stay a minute,” he smiled gently. Leo turned again and reached out for Harry who grabbed him up and cautiously stepped inside the homey little place of the girl he liked so much. “S’different huh, lad? From how Mommy and Daddy decorated.”
He nodded. “Prin-pessa lives here now,” he told Harry with another little sniffle.
“She does, that must mean this is a castle,” he winked in her direction as he settled himself on the sofa and put the book in Leo’s lap. She handed him some colored pencils and let him color in the book on his lap. His little sniffles subsided, and he showed Harry the picture frequently. “Nice job, Leo,” he said encouragingly. She sat in front of Harry, helping Leo color. She tried not to touch Harry, but it was nearly futile with the closeness. She couldn’t get close to Leo without getting close to Harry. She sat on her coffee table facing the pair of boys. Her knees slotted on either side of one of his. She wondered if Harry felt the heat of her body waving off her just by their thighs touching.
Harry was lucky he had to focus on keeping Leo company and making sure he was okay. He can’t imagine a scenario in which they would be in this position, but if it weren’t for Leo, Harry would have focused solely on the way her jeans were pressed to either side of his leg. He watched her color like she was an artist from the Renaissance. Her smile was gentle while she spoke quietly to Leo praising his skills.
It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but she stopped coloring almost abruptly. She put all the items beside her on the coffee table. Harry looked at her curiously and she smirked, putting a finger to her lips. She stood, removing the warmth of her leg around Harry’s, making him feel like it was the dead of winter without a coat. He wanted her body back near his.
She slid her hands around Leo’s small frame and her hands brushed Harry’s fingers. He had to restrain the moan that was bubbling in his throat from how much he liked the feel of her skin against his. He thought the warmth from her would make his heart explode. She pulled Leo into her embrace and carried her to the bedroom. Harry followed her quietly and quickly. He stood in the doorway and watched her lay the little one on the bed. She left the door cracked so light could get in and she smiled kindly. “Thank you, Harry,” her voice dripped with gratitude.
Harry didn’t know restraint was an emotion, but he felt it all throughout his body. Every bit of self-control was used to not kiss her over and over until his lips hurt. “M’pleasure, Principessa.”
Harry’s favorite color appeared on her cheeks. “Do...you want something to drink or anything? Before you head back to work—oh my, are you okay?” She asked grabbing his hand and turned it over between his.
Harry had an angry burn on the back of his hand. When he heard her voice on the phone he had a visceral reaction—the adoration for her causing him to spill some hot soup on his hand as he carried it toward the counter ready to be taken to the main room. Harry didn’t even feel it. Working in a kitchen, it was likely you would get burned. Harry wasn’t sure he had any nerve endings in his fingertips anymore.
At least, not until she was holding his hand.
“Oh...yeah. M’fine. Spilled hot soup.”
“I’ll have to remember how hot it is when I order it,” she looked at it nervously. “Can...do you need a bandage?”
“Oh, we have gloves in the kitchen,” he shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal to him. The only thing he could think about was how nice her hand felt holding his.
She frowned which made him sad. “Can... Can I wrap it or something for you? It looks painful and the glove will probably rub it raw or something,” she was already tugging him toward the kitchen, so he had no choice but to agree. Not that he wanted to argue. A few extra minutes with the pretty girl was well worth it. Harry had spent a good chunk of time in this apartment but somehow it was completely new. She released his hand, making him fraught with emotion. He nearly wanted to order her to hold it again. In the kindest of ways of course.
It seemed like this was something she really needed to do. Like it was hard for her to ask Harry for something without doing something for him in return. She gathered the supplies she needed and carefully slathered some ointment on his burn, holding his hand again making him forget all coherent thought. She was so gentle and careful. The burn was no big deal but it was so nice the way she tended to it. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal.
But Harry was undeniably in love with her.
“Thank you, Principessa.”
She smiled looking at his hand in hers. “You’re welcome, Harry. Thank you for helping with Leo. Sorry I bothered you.”
“Not at all, kitten. Y’don’t bother me at all,” he murmured as she smoothed the bandage on his hand.
It was cold again when she released him.
“Well, thank you anyway.”
“’Course. Always,” he promised. She smiled and put the supplies away. She wished she could have asked Harry to stay, but she knew he had to get back. He started for the door and flexed his hand a bit with the bandage wrapped around it. There were a lot of kitchen injuries he had suffered over the years and somehow this was his favorite because she tended so sweetly to it.
“I’ll...see you tomorrow,” she said softly.
“Yeah?” He smirked. “S’not Wednesday.”
She looked at her feet. “I know...but...I like seeing you,” she admitted glancing back at him with those pretty eyelashes and the pink cheeks he loved so much.
Harry was certain this was what winning the lottery felt like. He leaned down toward her and pecked her cheek so quickly, he barely even felt it on his lips—even though there was electricity pulsing through him as he did it. “I like seeing you too,” he whispered in her ear and headed down the stairs before he did something crazy like proposed to her. “Good night, Principessa,” he called over his shoulder.
*
“Eleanor Jane!”
Harry would recognize her voice in the dead of sleep, in a coma, halfway across the world.
Her voice was muffled by the door. As well as the thudding of someone knocking on the door. It was a few hours until they opened and if it weren’t for Harry hearing her sweet voice, he might have missed it or ignored it.
Harry hurried through the main room, unlocked the door, and looked at the three people in front of him. “Oh, you’re definitely Harry,” Eleanor smirked as she pushed past him.
“Jesus,” she sighed and put a hand on her forehead. “Louis, she’s insane,” she said to the guy who sauntered in after her.
“That’s my girl,” he said proudly and nodded to Harry as he brushed by him.
“Hi, Harry,” she smiled softly.
His heart softened. Harry loved the way his name sounded on her lips and in her voice. “Hi, Principessa.”
“Eleanor is in town,” she explained. She twisted her fingers together awkwardly.
“I see,” he chuckled as he glanced behind him to see her friend checking out all the artwork on the walls.
“We have a very busy couple of days. We’re getting a chunk of Louis’ stuff packed up and such. But...she really wants pasta and it’s,” she sighed looking a little ill as she spoke. “It’s the only time we really have...and you can say no. I told her we would just order takeout later—”
Harry understood. She didn’t want to bother him of course. Despite how hard he had tried to explain that she could never bother him. “Course, kitten,” he stood against the door to let her in finally. “Niall and I would be happy to,” he smiled.
“You really don’t mind? Antonio won’t mind?”
“Not at all, Principessa,” he promised pressing a hand on her lower back as he guided her further inside to join her friend.
“I told you he wouldn’t care.”
She rolled her eyes at Eleanor as the three sat at the bar.
Harry helped her onto her stool in the most chivalrous and gentlemanly fashion, Eleanor was grinning ear to ear as he did. He squeezed the top of her arm and winked as he headed back into the kitchen. “D’you want eggplant?” He asked through the window, and she blushed, then nodded. It made her feel warm that Harry knew what she wanted. Even though she had ordered it once a week since she moved in. “Eleanor, Louis? What can I make?”
“Cacio e pepe sounds good to me,” Louis smirked looking over the menu.
“Oh, I’ll take anything you want to make Harry. I’m not picky.”
He nodded and started preparing the dishes. Niall glanced through the window at the sight of the pretty girl and her friends. “You’re a mess,” Niall laughed.
Harry shrugged but there was a smile plastered on his lips.
“So, Harry, I hear you’ve really taken my best friend’s interest.”
“Eleanor, shut up,” she hissed, covering her pretty face with both hands.
Harry smiled, his cheeks warming. “Yeah? S’good. Can’t get her off m’mind either,” he winked at her through the window. Eleanor giggled and Louis rolled his eyes at her forwardness.
But Harry saw the splash of her pretty irises peek through the space between her fingers as she registered what Harry said. “You can’t steal her from me,” Eleanor said knowingly. “She’s my best friend.”
“Would never take her from you, Eleanor,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.
While Eleanor and Harry chatted like they had known each other their whole lives as well, she tried not to think about how Harry said he couldn’t get her out of her mind.
Tried.
She very much failed and thought that maybe she wouldn’t mind falling harder for Harry.
*
Harry was organizing the bar while the three of them ate. She was used to the pasta—of course it was delicious, but it was easier for her to pace herself knowing if she wanted, she could have more at any hour of the day.
She nibbled on her garlic bread—the extra portion that Harry had placed in front of her with a wink.
Eleanor was picking at Louis’ and hers at the same time. “Aye! Eat your own,” he said protectively and pulled his plate toward him so Eleanor couldn’t reach. She frowned and turned her attention back to her best friend, stealing some of her pasta and snagged a piece of garlic bread. She passed a piece to Louis and finally tried her own meal. “There’s been no sign of your stalker, right?” Eleanor asked as she put the first bite in her mouth. “Oh, this is delicious,” she moaned. She didn’t get to remark on how good the pasta really was because her comment was overshadowed by Harry’s head snapping to attention at the words coming out of the best friend of his Principessa.
She tilted her head back to avoid Harry’s eye contact. She hated bringing up this topic. Especially in front of other people. Even if Harry was slowly becoming her favorite person now that Eleanor wasn’t around, Harry was going to get worried. That was the last thing she wanted. “I could strangle you,” she murmured to her friend.
“What?” Eleanor frowned.
“M’sorry t’eavesdrop,” Harry said apologetically holding two bottles of wine in each hand as he restocked the wine cooler. “Did...did y’say stalker?”
Her cheeks turned pink. Eleanor frowned and turned back to her best friend. “You didn’t tell them?”
She sighed heavily and shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she shrugged.
Harry’s eyebrows rose to the middle of his forehead. He begrudgingly turned his attention to Eleanor assuming that she would give him the details for such a worrisome topic. Eleanor sighed. “Maybe you can convince her. There’s this guy who follows her.”
“Not now,” she grumbled. “He doesn’t do anything. He just... follows me.”
Harry felt utterly uncomfortable with such a statement and how neutral she seemed to feel about it. His heart started to beat erratically at the thought of something happening to her. He wanted to handcuff her to the bar just so he could keep an eye on her. Harry put the bottles into the cooler while Eleanor filled in the full details. He listened with rapt attention. She ate her garlic bread and pasta as if this was a normal situation. Truly, nothing to worry about.
Louis added in a few details as well. “There haven’t really been any events that were... scary,” Louis added for her benefit. Eleanor glared at him viciously. “But it makes El and I pretty uncomfortable. Really worried,” he told Harry with a smirk to Eleanor as her glare softened at his words.
Harry, on the other hand, was nearly shutting down with the influx of information. His pretty Principessa. It wasn’t fair. It was scary. He couldn’t believe she wouldn’t lead with that. “Principessa, s’not okay.”
She sighed, rubbing her temples. “He hasn’t followed me since I’ve moved,” she put her forehead on the bar.
Harry frowned and made eye contact with Eleanor. “Hmm...”
Eleanor patted her back. “You’re fine. We all just care about you,” she rolled her eyes. “I know that’s a hard thing for you to consider,” she smirked with a shake of her head.
“Jeez, El. Why don’t you just stab her,” Louis chuckled.
“I like Louis more than you,” she murmured into the bar.
She flicked the back of her head and looked at Harry.
“Harry,” Eleanor smiled sweetly.
“Oh boy,” Louis chuckled sipping his drink.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed looking up at Eleanor and tried to put a hand over her mouth to keep her from talking to Harry.
Harry thought it was funny, even if his heart was racing with worry. “Would you mind keeping an eye on her?” She fluttered her lashes sweetly as her best friend turned bright red with embarrassment. Harry smiled softly.
He didn’t want to upset the poor thing when she already seemed so distraught. Harry knew a bit about her but didn’t know everything, obviously. It was abundantly clear that she would rather die than inconvenience someone on her behalf.
“Of... of course,” Harry nodded at Eleanor. “But... m’sure she’s... sounds like she has it under control,” it tasted like sour milk to say those words. He wanted to say something along the lines of he would sleep outside her door and walk her to and from the grocery store. But Harry wasn’t her boyfriend—even if he was already, completely, and obviously in love with her.
Even if she wasn’t ready to notice just yet.
“Ugh, you have him fooled too,” Eleanor frowned.
She smirked patting Eleanor’s back. She turned to Harry for a moment and met his gentle gaze. It made her feel soft. When he pecked her cheek, or held her hands, each time he touched her lower back, or when he was coloring with her and Leo. Harry made her feel so completely warm with the smallest of touches and now he wasn’t even touching her. She was frustrated Eleanor brought it up. Even more frustrated Harry was worried about her. He had plenty of more important tasks to deal with than worry about her.
But she didn’t want anyone to worry about her. So, if asking Harry for help every now and again appeased Eleanor...
“Harry,” her voice was so soft and gentle. He was captured immediately by her voice and gaze. “Even though you’ve already done about a million ridiculous things for me,” and he very much had not. The little tasks he did to help her move in weren’t anything. Chatting with her, making food for her, and even coloring with Leo were all easy and nothing special. They weren’t even the bare minimum because they were so easy and simple. He wanted to do more for her. “If... if it’s not too much trouble,” it looked like she was struggling to say whatever words were in her head. It seemed ridiculous that she was going to ask Harry for help solely to make Eleanor feel better. Not even herself.
But he wasn’t going to make her say it when it clearly frustrated her to worry about herself.
Maybe he could help her understand that it wasn’t a big deal to worry about her, eventually.
“I’ll keep an eye on y’Principessa. S’pretty easy when I can’t stop staring at how pretty y’look anyway,” he winked and headed to the kitchen hoping to leave Eleanor to gossip about something other than the guy following her best friend.
He caught a glimpse of his favorite color painting her face while Eleanor was giggling and hitting her arm with excitement through the window.
But most importantly, he saw the faintest smile on her lips. Like she was happy that Harry cared for her even a little bit. Hopefully with every little baby step, Harry would convince her she wasn’t a bother.
In fact, he hoped to convince her that she really was a princess in his eyes.
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#harry#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#one direction#one direction writing#dolcezza
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Kiss me more
Pairing: Florence Pugh x Fem!Reader
Summary: This is the first time your friends are meeting your girlfriend and you're excited about it.
Disclaimer: I've been gone for a while because a few things are going on in my life right now. This is pure fluff, by the way, and inspired by Florence being in my country a few days ago. That said, English is not my first language, so be kind.
MASTERLIST
You were putting the chopped onion in a bowl when you heard a quick honk coming from outside. You knew, without having to look through the window in your kitchen, that your friends were there, and it immediately brought a smile to your face. It has been a long time since you managed to reunite your best friends all at once for a nice dinner to chat and laugh together, after all.
You dried your hand with a dishcloth that you usually draped over your shoulder when you were in the kitchen and, before you could go to the front door, you heard the knock announcing that you had been right on your assumption before. While you walked there to open the front door, you gave a quick glance around the living room to make sure everything was still in place after your almost manic cleaning during the afternoon. Your eyes ended on the dog walking lazily from his laying spot to sit by the door trying to act like a guard dog when he was yawning every few seconds. It made you smile as you leaned down a bit to pat his big head, making his tail wiggle happily.
“That's okay, Billie,” you said. “Stay, okay?”
Billie wasn’t exactly trained but the large dog knew when he was being dismissed and he started to make his way back to his bed in the corner just as slowly as he had come out before. You shook your head in amusement before finally reaching out to open the door. As soon as you did, you saw five people standing at the other side, all smiling and waiting for you, and you found yourself letting out a happy squeak.
“Hey, guys!” You greeted as you pulled the closest person to you for a hug. That turned out to be your best friend since school days, Anne, who gladly hugged you back while her husband, a nice guy you've met since they first started dating seven years ago, raised his hand to show the bag they had brought. You laughed when you saw the Monopoly board sticking out of the bag and, quickly, you all shared hugs. Your other best friend, Jack, had also brought his boyfriend with him, Danny, and the last person in your little friendship group, Hannah, was the first one to teasingly complain about them still standing outside.
You laughed as you took a step to the side, waving a hand to call them in. “Come on in!”
Your friends all came inside while removing their coats to hang behind the door and Jack shut the door behind all of them while talking about the upcoming rain. They all knew your small house, had been there numerous times before, so they were all pretty comfortable scattering around. It felt like decades since you all managed to be together and it brought a warm feeling inside your chest to see all of them there again.
“How have you been?” Anne asked as she put the Monopoly down for you guys to play later on in the night. That was something the four of you have been doing since college when you all came together, even if it always ended up with Jack and Hannah threatening to throw the board across the room. From all across the room, Billie didn’t seem interested at all in the people he was seeing for the first time as he easily slipped to take another nap.
“I'm great,” you replied. “I'm so glad you could all make it!”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Hannah declared with a shrug, hands inside her pockets. “It's been months since we last got everyone together.”
“Months?” Jack scoffed as he placed a hand dramatically on his chest. “More like years.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and, playfully, shoved his shoulder. “You were all too busy getting married and shit.”
As they all shared a laugh, Jack threw his arms around her to put her in for a side hug that Hannah tried to escape in vain. “Don't be jealous. You will find someone to marry you,” he joked before making kissing noises close to her face just to see her squirm.
It worked like a charm and you shook your head when Hannah finally managed to push him away while huffing. “I missed you guys,” you commented when you saw Hannah flipping him the bird.
Anne, who had moved to hug her husband, Ben, turned her attention back to you. “Where is your girl?”
You felt your cheeks growing hot even though you knew it was ridiculous to feel prude suddenly. It's not like they didn’t know you had been dating for the past seven months - it had been a big occurrence in your group chat when you told them, after all - but they had yet to know your girlfriend. You hadn’t been dating just anyone. You were dating one of the new Hollywood darlings, which made it a bit hard to arrange a meeting between her and your friends.
Florence had only shown excitement, though, and you knew she had been trying to clean her schedule for months now to make that happen. Between shooting her new movie and living her life between different cities in the USA for work and her hometown near London to see her family and friends, it took some time but you finally set up a date and that’s how that dinner came to life. And then you had to find a day that your friends could make because they all had their own lives going on between work and their personal lives, but you eventually found a date that worked for everyone. That was the first time your friends would meet Florence and you had been barely containing your excitement all week. Now, however, your friends were there and your girlfriend wasn’t.
“Oh, she asked me to voice her apologies,” you ended up saying with a small grimace.
“How british of her,” Jack teased you lightly and earned another eye-roll in his direction.
“She's going to be late,” you explained, remembering the text you had received from your girlfriend about an hour ago. Florence seemed very sorry in her text and she added several apologies that you quickly brushed aside. You knew she didn’t mean to be late. “She got stuck at the studio.” That was something that had happened before, so it wasn’t exactly news. Usually, Florence was able to be in and out of shooting at the same time every day, but there were times when things got delayed and she had to stick around. That was her job, something she had been dedicating all her life to succeed at.
“Liar,” Hannah retorted with a glint in her eyes. “I bet you told her about us and scared her away.”
You tilted your head to the side and pretended to think about it for a moment. “I did tell her to book a ticket and get as far away from the city as she could so she wouldn’t have to see your ugly face.”
Anne complained with a fake groan of annoyance, looking at Ben and Danny. “It’s like watching kids, I swear.”
“Come on, you can all come with me to the kitchen,” you said after you all chuckled at her, ready to turn on your heels to go back to the kitchen. “We can talk while I cook.”
“You're going to cook?” Hannah asked in disbelief as they all followed you back.
In the kitchen, you put yourself behind the counter again to keep cutting the ingredients while your friends find places to sit or stand around you. It felt like old times and it made you smile to yourself.
“Yes,” you replied after picking up a carrot and doing some silly movement of throwing and grabbing it to show off. “Florence was going to, another reason why she apologized for not making it on time.” Your girlfriend had offered to cook something for you and your friends when you first said they all agreed to meet up at your place, and you immediately agreed but now you had taken over the kitchen. You were glad to have, at least, learned some stuff with Florence over the months.
“I thought you would have people cooking for you now that you’re dating a movie star,” Jack teased you happily as he moved around you to try to find a corkscrew to open the wine he had brought with him. You knew he hadn’t said that to be mean or anything, but you couldn’t deny that the fact that you were dating someone as famous as Florence Pugh had been a big deal among your friends. They teased you about it non-stop ever since you told them, but they did it out of love.
“Jack, I still live in my old apartment,” you declared with a glance at him, smirking lightly when the rest of your friends laughed.
“Fair,” he replied as he pointed the corkscrew at you before handing it over so his boyfriend could do the work.
“Besides, Florence likes to cook and she's great at it too. Her father owns a restaurant and all,” you told them, even though you were sure that conversation had come up at some point. It felt like you hadn’t been able to shut up about your girlfriend ever since you met her. “She likes doing most things around the house, actually, which works fine with me because I hate doing the laundry.” Jack nodded along with that, pointing at himself as if to say he also hated that chore.
Ben decided to jump in to offer you some help while Danny poured everyone a glass of wine. “What can we do to help?”
“Just sit there,” you told him with a smile. “I got this. I was going to say I can open some wine if you guys want to start drinking, but Jack beat me to it.”
Jack quickly lowered his wine glass to say: “Honey, I always want to start drinking.”
After that, the six of you fell into easy conversation trying to catch up on all the things going on in your lives. Anne and Ben talked about plans for the holidays, Hannah was excited about her new job, Jack and Danny were trying to find a new place to live, and you jumped in to talk about your life too. It felt like old times when you would all have dinner during college, before Ben and Danny became part of the group as well, and you honestly wished more than anything that Florence fell into your group as easily as they had done before her.
Just as you thought about her - again, because that was just something that you seemed to do all the time - you heard your phone ringing from where it was placed on top of the counter. Anne helpfully turned your phone so you could see who it was and, as soon as you read Florence’s name on the screen, you moved on to wash your hands to pick it up.
“Oh, damn, guys. I need to answer this. Sorry,” you told them, knowing that your girlfriend wouldn’t have called if she didn’t actually need to talk with you. You pressed your phone on your ear and, upon hearing Jack catcalling just to mess up with you, you moved to stand beside the fridge to pretend to have some privacy for the conversation. “Hey, Flo.”
“How late am I?” You heard Florence’s voice coming out a bit out of breath, but her accent rolling up the words made your heart swell inside your chest and a smile soon blossomed on your face.
“Just a bit,” you replied and waved a hand to shush Jack and Hannah when they started to make a chorus of ‘aww’ loud enough to be heard. “Are you done filming?”
“Yes. I'm leaving the studio right now and I’m going to make a quick stop before heading to your place.” As she said that, you heard an alarm going off and a car’s door opening, so you guessed she was already at the parking lot when she called you. “Getting some wine to make up for my error.”
“You don't have to do that…” you started but then your eyes landed on your friends pouring more wine in their glasses and you rolled your eyes before adding: “but Jack is going to be the happiest man on Earth if you do.”
Florence’s husky laugh met your ears and, like a charm, your lips curled up. That was the sound you loved the most in the world. “Don't worry, I’m getting something good.”
“Great. Remember to use your key,” you told her. “I'll be waiting.”
“See you, darling.”
You ended the call right after that, put your phone away and went back to cooking. You had just started to throw things inside the pan when Hannah wiggled her eyebrows at you. “She has a key, huh?”
You blushed because that had been a new development in your relationship with Florence, something you hadn’t shared with your friends yet mostly because you were too busy and ended up forgetting about it. “Yeah.”
“So this is pretty serious,” Anne commented and, suddenly, every eye landed on you.
“It is, yes.”
“How serious?” Jack insisted with a smile.
“Enough for her to have a key to my apartment. Enough for me to have a key to her place even though I’m never going to fly to London without her,” you told them, adding a shrug in the end to play it off as nothing even though you all knew it was a big thing.
“Do I hear wedding bells?” Danny was the one to speak next and you half wanted to tell him he was spending too much time with Jack already.
“Shut up,” you groaned, turning your back at them to hide your blush. “Flo always says she’s too young to get married and that she’s not doing that before she’s thirty.”
Jack laughed the loudest of all of them as he moved to fill your cup again. “Oh, you can't wait, can you?”
Now smiling, you tilted your head to look at him and said: “I take the fifth.”
For the next few minutes, the conversation returned about everything while you cooked and you all drank wine. It didn’t take that long for you to hear another car pulling up and, a couple of minutes later, the door opening again. You glanced over your shoulder to see that Florence had just walked in while carrying what looked like a wine box that you just knew was more expensive than half of the things you owned. Your friends gracefully pretended not to notice that she was there until walked to the kitchen with a polite grin.
“Hello,” she greeted everyone while putting the wine on top of the counter to give everyone a big wave. Billie, who had been asleep ever since they got there, got up to greet his owner, wiggling his tail and bumping his head against her leg. Florence made sure to give him some pets and a quick kiss to his snout.
“Hey!” You heard all of your friends say back as your girlfriend approached you.
You took a step away from the stove and placed a hand on her cheek, smiling when you felt her arm curling around your waist before you leaned in to give her a quick peck. “Hi, babe. I'm glad you could make it.”
Florence was smiling when you put some distance between your faces, although your bodies were still touching. “And I brought the wine.” She pointed over her shoulder and then took a step to the side to face everyone else more easily.
“That is a damn good wine,” Jake whistled, clearly impressed, and earned himself a slap on his shoulder from Hannah, who also tried to quietly communicate with him to tone down his jokes for now.
Florence, who has heard all types of stories about your friends already, only smiled. She got closer to shake Ben’s hand first, over the counter since she had moved to stand beside you, before moving on to do it with everybody. “Hello, guys. I'm terribly sorry I’m late. I got stuck at work,” she told them, shaking Danny’s hand last. “I’m really sorry.”
“No worries,” Anne quickly appeased her worries with a wave of her hand. “We've all been there before. I’m Anne, by the way.”
She started a round of quick introductions that ended with Florence, in that cute way she usually did, saying: “Nice to meet you all, I’m Florence.” which, of course, made you grab her hand to put her close enough to press a kiss on her cheek. That was enough to get a small conversation going on between your friends while Florence returned to the stove with you. “Looks like you have everything under control. This looks great,” she said while looking inside the pan.
“I learned with the best,” you smiled and turned your head to look at her to see her smile but you ended up hearing her chuckle and receiving a kiss on your temple instead, which was totally fine to you.
“Sorry I wasn't here to help you before,” Florence whispered quietly.
“Stop beating yourself for that.”
She squeezed your waist where her hand was resting against you and kissed your head again. “I love you.” And, God, you had no idea if you would ever get used to hearing those words coming from her. “Go talk with your friends, I can take it from here.”
Florence knew how much you had waited for that dinner and how much you missed having all your friends over at the same time, and her offer made you very thankful for having someone as comprehensive as her beside you. Thanking her with a peck, you soon moved on to pour her some of the cheap wine that was left in the second bottle you guys were drinking before pouring the rest of it to yourself. You handed her the glass, heard her small “thank you”, and joined the conversation your friends were having.
They all made a clear effort to include Florence in the talk even if she was busy finishing dinner and, for that, you were also thankful. They were all receiving her with open arms to your group, something you were fairly sure was happening because you had told them all types of histories in the last seven months. You never hid how important she was to you, though you were sure they would’ve easily seen right through you if you had tried to pretend it was nothing.
Since you met Florence, your life has changed for the better. Being her girlfriend was the best thing that happened to you and you didn’t hold back while saying that to your friends. They were just now meeting her, but they all knew how much you loved her. Now, they got to see it in person too.
“When can we open the expensive wine?” You heard Jack asking when you and Anne were setting the table, and you both exchanged a look before rolling your eyes at your friend’s antics.
“Any time you like,” Florence laughed, stirring the food in the pan.
“You do it. I’m afraid I might break the bottle and be depressed for the rest of my life,” Jack replied and their easy conversation made you smile.
“Guess we’re giving you wine for Christmas,” Florence joked but, when you turned around to the kitchen again, she was already opening the wine while Jack waited with his glass already raised.
“Girl, you do that and you will become my favorite person in this group.”
“Traitor,” Hannah shoved him with a firm hand, making all of you laugh again.
“Darling, dinner is ready,” Florence told you once Jack grabbed the wine again.
“You heard the chef, folks,” you clapped your hands once. “To the table!”
While all of your friends found a place to sit - a bit squeezed together so you could all fit around the table - you went to help your girlfriend move the food to the plates so you could serve everyone. You were standing side by side in front of the stove when you moved your hip to bump into hers, biting your bottom lip to hold back your smile when she bumped you back.
“What?” She asked with her throaty chuckle.
“Nothing,” you replied with a shrug. “I’m just happy.”
Florence chuckled again and turned her head to kiss your cheek. “I’m always happy when I’m with you, so I’m not surprised by the confession I’m about to make.”
“What confession?” You played along with her teasing.
“I’m also happy,” she whispered as if telling you the biggest secret ever and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“I love you,” you declared as a matter of fact as you kissed her quickly and moved to take the first two plates to the table.
It was a fact. A clear one, one that left no doubts. You loved Florence Pugh and you had never been happier than how you were feeling at that moment about to have dinner with your girlfriend and your friends.
As you walked over to the table and saw all of your small group smiling knowingly at you, you thought back about what Jack said about marriage before. You knew it was still too soon to think about it, not only in the relationship but also considering that both Florence and you were still pretty young, but you just knew that’s where you two were heading to. Apparently, all of your friends knew it as well.
“Here we go, darling,” Florence said as she walked behind you to hand two more plates.
“Guys, I don’t think I ever told you guys this, but Florence never played Monopoly before,” you found yourself saying suddenly and, just like you expected it to happen, they all jumped in to start voicing their disbelief about that little fact.
While they started making plans to play the game as soon as they were done eating, you returned to the kitchen, leaving Florence behind to deal with it, but not without kissing her again.
#florence pugh#florence pugh x reader#florence pugh x you#celebrity x you#marvel#black widow#yelena belova#dune#princess irulan#writing#creative writing#my writing#fluff
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Cream - Sanji
Kinktober day 3 - Food play
Sanji x GN!reader
Summary: A normal day on The Thousand Sunny takes a turn when you find a container of whipped cream in the fridge...
Warnings: Blowjobs, whipped cream, food play, mentions of food, mature content, strong language
masterlist
It was like a dream come true for Sanji when you confessed to him. You’re like his dream person, gorgeous AND can cook?? What more could he ask for?
It was a rainy day while you were on The Thousand Sunny, and the rest of the crew were all holed up in their quarters waiting for the rain to ease up.
---
In the kitchen, Sanji was cooking up some delicious food while you were reading a book in the corner. You could hear him humming to himself as he worked. “Can you see if there’s any more butter left? I swear we had some but we might have to get some more when we hit land.” Sanji said as he was chopping up some onions.
You picked up your book and put it down, looking through the pantry to find any, but couldn’t find it. Then you looked into the fridge, but you couldn’t find it, but you saw something that caught your eye. “When did we get whipped cream?” you took the container out of the fridge.
“Oh, I was going to use that to make strawberry shortcake tomorrow.” Sanji took his chopped onions and put them into a pan. He then added some water, put the lid on, and turned the heat to medium. “But right now I’m making stew.”
You looked at the whipped cream for a few seconds before getting an idea. You took some whipped cream and put it on his nose, softly laughing. “What are you doing?” Sanji softly laughed too.
You looked at him with the same smile on your face, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Sanji then took some of the whipped cream and put it on your nose, looking at you lovingly “Now we match.”
You took a big scoop of whipped cream and put it on your finger, then put it on his lips. “Why don’t I do a taste test and see which one tastes better?”
Sanji's cheeks turned bright red as he softly accepted your gesture, and you went in for the kiss. Your lips tasted the whipped cream on his lips, and you sighed in contentment as you pulled away.
“Could you do another taste test somewhere else?” Sanji whispered accidentally, you smiled warmly, not hesitating for a moment as you pounced on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.
---
You put some of the whipped cream on the soft pink, sensitive tip of his cock while he lay on the kitchen floor. You took his dick into your hands and licked the whipped cream off slowly, “Mmh…” he covered his mouth as he moaned softly, a soft pink blush on his face.
“It tastes good Sanji.” Your seductive voice was music to his ears as you looked up at him. Your mouth then took his whole length while your tongue made him feel good.
He couldn’t help to let out a shaky whine from how your throat felt to him. Sanji’s soft noises made you smile as you took his cock out of your mouth and put a little more onto his tip.
You pumped your hand up and down quickly and licked the whipped cream off the tip once more. He couldn't control his hips as he hips moved a bit, in tune with your hand, “Please…Oh please…It feels so good.” Sanji’s voice whined.
He couldn’t take it anymore and it didn’t take long until he rutted into your hand, his hips bucked forward as he came all over your fingers, “That was too good.” His voice was raspy, trying to come down from his excitement.
#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#one piece sanji#sanji x reader#straw hat pirates#sanji x you#sanji x y/n#sanji one piece#smutwarning#x reader#sanji vinsmoke#one piece#one piece x reader#one peice#opla#opla sanji#op live action#gn reader#kinktober#x y/n
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