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dottielovegood · 3 years

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ASMR - Chapter 6

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here, chapter 3 here, chapter 4 here and chapter 5 here.

Read this fic on AO3

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When Friday was just around the corner, Azriel was a nervous mess.

He had cleaned his apartment twice, which he understood was a weird thing to do since she wasn’t even coming to his house. He had tried on every item of clothing in his wardrobe. He had googled ‘conversation topics first date’ and written a few down on his phone. He had even gotten a haircut.

He hadn’t been able to sleep at all that week. It felt weird to look at her videos when he had met her and talked to her. It felt like an invasion of privacy, even though it wasn’t. The videos were on the internet for everyone to see, yet Azriel couldn’t bring himself to watch her videos. So he didn’t sleep.

The day before the date, Azriel had decided to get her flowers. But when he stood in a flower shop and the person behind the register asked what kind of flowers he wanted, he just walked out of there. He had no idea what kind of flowers to give to a florist. He knew that certain flowers had certain meanings, and even though he had no idea what any flower meant, a florist probably knew. What if he bought flowers that said ‘I hate you’ or ‘happy funeral’?

Azriel couldn’t risk it, so he bought some chocolate instead. All women like chocolate, right?

But when he came home, his mind did that thing it always did when he was sleep-deprived: it questioned his every decision. What if Elain is lactose intolerant? What if she’s vegan? What if she is the only person on planet earth who hates chocolate? What if the different flavors of chocolate have meaning, just like flowers? Maybe you bought some sort of ‘happy funeral-chocolate’?

In an attempt to get these intrusive thoughts out of his mind, he went to the gym. He worked out for two hours, which was a bit excessive. The gym played shitty gym-music and every single person made weird sounds. It was the perfect distraction. For now.

Azriel hoped that his workout would help with his insomnia, too. He hoped that if he lifted enough weights and ran a few more miles than usual, perhaps he would be able to sleep. It had never worked before, but, as his mother used to say; “hope is the last thing that leaves you.”

However, after tossing and turning for three hours, he could safely say that the workout had done nothing to help him sleep. He couldn’t understand how a person could be so fucking tired, but still unable to sleep. He was almost going a bit crazy at this point. For the past weeks, Azriel had gotten used to falling asleep to Flower Girl ASMR’s videos. He had gotten used to her sweet voice rocking him to sleep. The insomnia was almost worse now that he knew how good it felt to have a decent night’s sleep.

Azriel looked at his phone. It was almost 02.30 in the morning. Fuck, he muttered to himself. He really didn’t want to be a tired mess on the date tomorrow. He had to put his best foot forward, and he knew he couldn’t do that if he hadn’t slept well for almost a week.

Maybe he should just watch one of her videos? She would obviously never know.

After debating with himself for a few minutes, he decided that Elain deserved to meet a well-rested Azriel, so he opened the YouTube app and found her latest video.

Azriel held his breath as her face filled his screen. God, she was lovely. Her smile could light up the darkest of nights, and her sweet voice was like a calming balm for his soul.

He put the phone in his chest and just listened. Slowly and gently, her whispers lulled him to sleep.

Azriel woke up relaxed, but nervous. He only had a half-day at work because Rhys had decided to send everyone home early today to celebrate that Feyre was pregnant. He was taking her on a spa weekend. She was only a few weeks pregnant, but Azriel knew that she would be the most pampered woman in the world during this pregnancy. This weekend was just the beginning. If she suddenly got a craving for pickle smoothies with whipped cream and sprinkles, Rhys would 100% make her one every day. And that is saying something since this man almost threw up every time someone opened a pickle jar in his vicinity.

“Any cool plans tonight, Az?” Cassian asked as he started to pack up his belongings.

Azriel wanted to tell him about the date. He wanted to share the nervousness with someone - anyone. But he couldn’t. Cass knew who she was. Nesta had known her since college. If this didn’t go well, Azriel would never hear the end of it. So he lied.

“No, nothing special. You?”

“I was going to take Nesta out for a date to celebrate that it has been four years since she agreed to go on a date with me…”

Azriel laughed. “After you had panted after her for like two years you mean?”

“Exactly!” He smiled. Cassian sure seemed like a big brute the first time you met him, but he was actually a soft teddy bear. He was never ashamed when people mentioned that he had been trying to win Nesta over for years before she agreed to date him. He just felt like he had won a prize. It was very sweet.

“However,” he continued. “She has to work late. Apparently, one of her authors had plagiarized fanfiction, which Nesta found out about like a week before the book went to print. So obviously, Nesta is livid and I do not want to be close to her until this is resolved.”

Nesta owned a publishing company that focused on publishing romance novels, which didn’t surprise anyone. Nesta had always loved romance books. In her words; the smuttier, the better. Azriel always found them a bit cringy. It was like reading porn. But truth be told, he had read a few books that Nesta had recommended, and they had taught him a thing or two.

“What the hell is fanfiction?” he asked Cassian.

Cassian shrugged. “I’m not completely sure, but apparently this author had just copied something from the internet and changed the names of the characters and sent it in as a manuscript.”

“Weird. I understand that Nesta is pissed.”

“Yeah. So, you wanna do something? Take out and a game?”

“No, I can’t,” Azriel lied.

“You just said that you didn’t have any plans.”

Fuck.

“Yeah, well. I said that I didn’t have any special plans, not that I didn’t have any plans.”

Implying that his date with Elain was “not special” made him feel like shit.

Cassian eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going on a date.”

“What? no.”

Cassian laughed and slapped Azriel’s back. “Yes, you are. You have that date-look all over your face.”

“What the hell is a date-look?” he asked, but Cassian didn’t answer.

“Who are you going out with? Do I know her? Is she hot?”

Azriel held up a hand to stop the onslaught of questions. “You don’t know her,” he lied.

Cassian grinned. “So, you are going on a date?”

“You just said that I had a date-face?”

“Yeah, that was a lucky guess. So, what’s her name?”

“None of your business, Cass.”

“Wow, what a beautiful name,” Cassian teased. “But I get it. You like being secretive. Can you at least tell me how you met?”

“The internet.”

Cassian let out a fake gasp. “Stop the presses and hold your horses. Azriel downloaded a dating app? Can pigs fly now, too?” He made a point of looking out the window.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Azriel slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking towards the elevator. Cassian was just behind him.

“So, can I see a photo?”

“No.”

“What if you’re getting catfished?”

“I’m not.”

“Well, you can never be sure. One time, this girl, or actually, it was an old man…”

“Cass, please. Just let it go,” Azriel interrupted. “There’s a reason why I never tell you guys when I go on dates.”

“Dates? You’ve been going on multiple dates without telling me? I’m wounded, Azriel.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and stepped into the elevator. When the elevator reached the ground floor, Azriel got out. Cassian had his car in the underground parking garage. Just before the doors closed, Cassian called out for Azriel. “You might need this.” He threw something at Azriel, and Azriel didn’t see what it was until he caught it.

It was a condom.

With a grin, Cassian disappeared behind the big, metal elevator doors.

Azriel shook his head and looked down at the small foil packet in his hand. Cassian really was the worst.

A few hours later, Azriel was almost ready to leave for the date. He was wearing black trousers and a dark grey knitted sweater. And blue socks. Cobalt blue, to be exact. Azriel had a thing about colorful socks. He mostly dressed in black, but he didn’t own a single pair of black socks. These blue socks were his favorites, though. He loved cobalt blue.

Azriel was checking the route to the bar when an incoming phone call made his phone vibrate (he had put his phone on mute and deleted Barbie Girl from his phone, thank god!).

It was Elain calling.

Azriel felt his heart drop. Nobody called just before a date unless they wanted to cancel.

With a sigh, he answered the phone. He tried to sound cheery. “Hello, Elain.”

“Azriel! I’m so happy you picked up.” She sounded out of breath.

“Anything wrong?” Azriel asked.

“Well. Kind of… have you left your apartment yet?”

“No, not yet. Why?”

There was a short pause, and Azriel could have sworn that he heard her swear under her breath.

“Well, I won’t be able to make it. I’m so sorry. And I’m so sorry for calling this late. I was really looking forward to our date, I promise.” She really did sound apologetic.

“Has anything happened?” Azriel asked, suddenly a bit worried.

“No… Or actually, yes. I fell when I got out of the shower earlier. I thought that I just needed to rest, but I can’t walk,” she let out a pained laugh. “I’m such a clutz.”

Azriel hated that she was trying to make light of the situation. He hated that she was hurt. “Elain. If you can’t walk, you should probably go to the ER,” Azriel said.

“Oh, no. I called my neighbor. Madja. She’s a doctor. She said that I had just sprained my ankle.”

“Okay…” Azriel didn’t know what else to say.

“Can we reschedule?” Elain asked. “I really wanted to see you tonight.”

Azriel was used to being rejected. He was used to not trusting new people. But somehow, he trusted Elain when she said that she wanted to see him.

“Of course we can reschedule. I was really looking forward to meeting you too.”

“Really?” He could hear the smile in her voice. It made him smile.

“Yes. I’m av…”

Azriel was interrupted by a hiss from Elain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, ready to steal a car, drive over her to her place, and get her to the hospital. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t know her address.

“Mhm, I’m fine. I just.. moved.”

“Elain. Do you have a friend or family member coming over to help you?”

There was a stretch of silence. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need help.” Her tone was too positive and cheery. Azriel didn’t believe her one bit.

“Have you had dinner?”

“I was planning on making some instant ramen.”

Azriel frowned. “And how are you going to do that when you can barely move? Also, that’s not good enough for dinner.”

She didn’t answer for a while. “I’m fine. I promise.” He could hear her voice break on the last syllable. She was not fine.

“Elain. Please, will you let me get you some food? I don’t have to come in if you don’t want me to. Just, let me get you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to. If you’re willing to give me your address, I’ll be there in just a bit.”

She hesitated. “You probably have something better to do.”

“I don’t. Now please, let me get you some food.”

He didn’t just want to get her some food. He wanted to make sure that she was alright. He didn’t want her to sit all alone in her apartment when she couldn’t walk.

He wanted to take care of her.

After a small eternity, he could hear her whisper “Okay.”

45 minutes later, he was outside her building with sushi (she had said that she liked it) and a bag full of snacks. He didn’t know what she liked, so he had bought a little bit of everything.

A short, old lady walked out the door, and Azriel caught it with one hand. He didn’t want to call her and make her come to the door right now, so he snuck in.

Elain had told him that she lived on the sixth floor, so he quickly made his way up the stairs. He couldn’t risk being caught in an elevator right now.

He found the door with her name on it and raised his hand to knock. And then he froze.

What am I doing? he thought to himself. He had basically asked her for her address and then invited himself to bring her food. He knew that she had a bad history when it came to men. What if she just didn’t want to say no because she thought that it would hurt his feelings?

Azriel contemplated leaving the food outside the door and text her when he was a safe distance away.

“Azriel, is that you?” someone called from the apartment. Elain.

Azriel had to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he called back. “Do you want me to leave the food outside the door?”

“No, come in. The door is open.”

With a deep breath, Azriel gathered his courage and reached for the doorknob.

He walked into a small hallway that opened up to a quaint kitchen. Elain was nowhere in sight. The kitchen was bright and welcoming. The walls were painted light green and the cabinets were white. Azriel could see a few cookbooks on her windowsill, which made him smile. Most people didn’t own cookbooks nowadays - they just found recipes online.

“In here,” Elain called. Azriel made his way through the kitchen and into the living room. His first thought was that the room really seemed to fit Elain. The dark wooden floor was a nice contrast to the white walls. Not that you saw much of the walls since they were covered by a built-in bookshelf and a gallery wall full of botanical prints. And there were plants in every nook and cranny. There was a dark green velvet couch in the middle of the room, and on it sat Elain. Or actually, she was half-seated, half laying down. Her foot was propped up with a few pillows. There was a coffee mug on the table in front of her, and beside the couch, he could see a worn leather chair.

Elain was smiling at him as he entered the room. When he smiled back, she put the back of her hand against her forehead, which made her look like a damsel in distress from one of those old Hollywood movies. “You came for me,” she exclaimed in an awful fake southern accent. “My hero!”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh. Elain was wearing black leggings and an oversized shirt. Her hair was gathered into a ponytail. She was beautiful, Azriel thought to himself as he sat down in the leather chair, giving her all the space she needed on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Madja said that it seems to be a mild ankle sprain, and I should be up and running in like one to two weeks. Honestly, I feel more stupid than anything else.”

“Why?” Azriel asked.

“Well, I didn’t want to cancel our date. And who falls out of the shower? I really am the clumsiest person in Velaris,” she joked. “Yesterday, I dropped a full cup of coffee over my new, white shirt. And the day before that, I poked my friend Nuala in the eye with a flower.”

“You… poked her in the eye with a flower?”

Elain laughed. “Yes. Her eye was red for hours.”

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Azriel thought that he could drown in those eyes. He wanted her to look at him forever.

But he didn’t want to intrude. “Do you want me to leave? I could just leave the food here with you.”

Elain bit her inner cheek, suddenly looking very nervous. “Would you...Didn’t you buy food for yourself?”

“I did. But I don’t have to eat with you if you want to be alone.”

“I…” she took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be alone.” It was barely a whisper.

“So, you want me to stay?”

Elain nodded, a lovely pink color spreading across her cheeks.

“Okay.” Azriel unpacked the sushi from the bag and offered her a choice of drinks. “We have lemon, elderflower, and regular coke. I didn’t know what you preferred.”

“Elderflower, please.”

She was still blushing. Azriel couldn’t tell if she was uncomfortable or just nervous.

Azriel handed her the drink and opened the coke for himself.

Elain sat up slowly and reached for her chopsticks. Since she had to sit with her leg raised, she couldn’t exactly lean over the coffee table, so Azriel placed the sushi on a pillow in her lap.

“Thank you,” she said and put a few pillows behind her back. From where he sat, he could only see the back of Elain’s head now. He wanted to move the chair so he could look at her, but he didn’t want to come off as creepy.

And he was actually quite happy that they couldn’t see each other when she took a bite of her food and let out a sigh. It was just a sigh, but somehow it was the most erotic sound Azriel had ever heard. He blushed and made a point of looking at his food.

“God, this is so good, Azriel. Thank you. I was really hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch,” she said under her breath and took another bite of sushi. Azriel looked at his watch. She hadn’t eaten in more than seven hours. And she was going to make instant ramen if he hadn’t shown up. Suddenly, he felt a bit better about the situation.

When Azriel looked up from his food, Elain was looking at him over her shoulder.

“Is this weird?” she asked. “Is it weird that I asked you to stay? I know it isn’t fun…”

“I kind of remember that I was the one who asked for your address, and then showed up at your doorstep with food. I promise that I wouldn't have done that if I didn’t want to. If anything, I’m weird for showing up like this.”

She laughed, but it was a sad laugh. “No, you’re not weird. You’re kind. I’m just not used to this.”

Azriel frowned. “Not used to what? Kindness?”

Elain looked away, but Azriel didn’t miss the slight nod. “My ex never came over when I was sick. He said that I was boring and that he had better things to do…”

Azriel felt his hands curl into fists. “Is this the same ex that cheated on you and now leaves hate on your videos?” he gritted out.

Another nod. “Yes. But there has been almost no hate since you helped me block those words.” She smiled at him, and he could tell that she wanted to change the subject.

“That’s good to hear.”

Azriel wanted nothing more than to ask where this asshole lived so he could go and kick his ass, but he tried to act civil for Elain’s sake.

“I’m sorry for talking about him,” she said. “You should never talk about exes on dates and…” Her eyes grew wide when she realized what she said. “Not that this is a date or anything,” she corrected herself. “I mean, it would be a pretty shitty date.”

She was flustered, and Azriel couldn’t hide the big grin on his face. She was so cute.

“Elain. Do you want this to be a date?”

“Do you?”

He knew that she needed to hear him say it. “Yes.”

A shy smile played on her face. “Me too.”

“Then it’s settled. This is our first date,” Azriel declared.

Elain’s smile grew. “So there’s a chance for more dates?”

“Don’t be greedy,” Azriel teased. Elain stuck out her tongue and turned around again, facing her food.

I want to taste that tongue, Azriel thought.

Damn those intrusive thoughts.

“I can’t believe that I’m wearing leggings on our first date.”

Azriel didn’t say anything to that. He could complain about anything that tight.

God, what was wrong with his brain tonight?

“You look so good, and I look like this,” she pointed at her hair. “I had even bought a new dress for tonight.”

This piqued Azriel’s interest. “Really? Tell me what it looks like and I can imagine you in it.”

Or out of it.

Stupid fucking brain.

Elain pointed somewhere behind Azriel. “Well, it’s right there.”

On a door that Azriel assumed led to her bedroom, hung a blue dress.

Cobalt blue.

His favorite color.

He grinned and pulled up one pant leg and showed her his sock “We would have matched.”

Elain let out a heartfelt laugh, which made Azriel all warm inside. He loved seeing her happy. He liked knowing that he was the reason for said happiness.

“I didn’t take you for a man that wears colorful socks,” she said, still laughing. “First Barbie Girl, and now colorful socks. I’m starting to think that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises.”

There was a stretch of silence again. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. Even though they didn’t know each other well yet, Azriel could already tell that Elain was one of those people that he just instantly could relax around.

“Elain, this might be a weird request. But can I move this chair so I’m not staring at the back of your head?”

Elain turned around, cheeks pink again. “Yes,” she answered quickly, almost as if she had thought about the same thing.

He picked up the chair and quickly moved it to the other side of the couch. When he met Elain’s gaze, she was staring at him, mouth agape.

“What?”

“You’re strong.”

Azriel scratched his neck and laughed nervously, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, I work out.”

Wow, what a stupid fucking answer.

But Elain didn’t seem to mind. No, she was looking at him more intently now, and her eyes were not focusing on his face anymore. No, they were most definitely looking at his chest. “I can tell,” she said playfully. This felt very much like flirting,

Azriel wondered what she would think of the tattoos covering his skin underneath the shirt.

Azriel tried to remember the conversation topics he had written down on his phone, and after a few minutes, they were talking as if they had known each other for years. Azriel was surprised that she was so easy to talk to. Most of the time, he struggled with social situations. But with Elain, he felt comfortable. At ease.

“You’re very easy to talk to,” he told Elain. She rewarded him with a smile.

“So are you. It feels like we have known each other forever. I never thought that someone that slid into my DM’s would ever be this nice.”

At those words, Nesta’s face popped into Azriel’s mind. He should tell Elain that he knows Nesta. If it wasn’t for her, he would never have known that Elain lived in Velaris. If it wasn’t for Nesta, he wouldn’t have happened to run past her store that morning.

“I have a confession to make,” he said before he could change his mind.

Elain raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Please don’t tell me you’re trying to get me to join a cult.”

“Has that happened before?”

Elain shrugged. “More often than you think.”

“I’m not trying to get you to join a cult. I just… I wanted to tell you that I think that we have some mutual friends.”

She didn’t look surprised, but she didn’t say anything either, so Azriel continued.

“You know Nesta, right? I think you went to college together…”

Elain nodded.

“Well, she’s getting married to my best friend Cassian. I didn’t know that you knew them when I wrote to you, I promise. But it felt weird pretending like we don’t have people in common when we do. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I found out last week when Nesta saw one of your videos on my phone and asked me if I was a stalker.”

Azriel was blushing now. He was expecting silence, or maybe questions. But instead, he was met with laughter.

“She thought you were a stalker?”

Azriel shrugged, unable to find any good words.

“Well, I might also have a confession to make,” Elain announced. “I actually knew that you were friends with Nesta. That’s why I even answered your DM in the first place.”

“What?” Azriel couldn’t find better words than that.

“Yeah, when I scrolled through your Instagram I saw a photo from Rhysand’s and Feyre’s wedding, so I kind of figured out who you were then. Nesta had mentioned you once or twice before, so I knew you weren’t a creep. And then I saw that selfie when you were carrying a lasagna, and you looked so good, so I answered your DM.” Her blush had almost turned a deep red.

Azriel couldn’t help but grin. “You answered because I looked hot? You said that the lasagna looked tasty…”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Want to hear another confession?”

Azriel nodded.

“Well, I kind of understood how to block words from the link you sent me, but I really wanted to talk to you more.”

Azriel’s mouth fell open in pretend shock. “Sneaky girl.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I just…”

“No, no. It’s okay,” Azriel interrupted. “Do you want to hear another of my confessions?”

“Yes, please.”

Azriel put his elbows in his knees and leaned forward. He could tell that her eyes went to his biceps. Good.

“Well, when I first saw one of your videos, I thought that you might be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Elain blushed even more, the color spreading to her chest. Not that Azriel was looking there.

“Really?”

“Yes. And when we talked on the phone, you know, that time when you lied about needing my help,” Azriel winked at her. “I hadn’t laughed that much in ages. I was so bummed because I thought that you lived on the other side of the country or something.”

“But I didn’t.” She smiled.

“You didn’t.” He smiled back.

They spent the entire night in Elain’s living room, just talking. Without even noticing it, a few hours went by. When they finished the sushi, Azriel made a snack buffet on the coffee table, which made Elain laugh.

“We are going to be so sick if we eat all of this.”

“Well, someone told me that she might be bedridden for more than a week, so maybe you could save some for the upcoming days of rest and relaxation.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said and reached for the popcorn.

They continued flirting for the rest of the evening, but nothing explicit happened. They didn’t touch. Didn’t kiss. They just talked. It was all Azriel could have dreamt of. He had never felt so comfortable so quickly with anyone before. When it was close to midnight, he could tell that Elain was getting tired. After her fifth yawn, Azriel told her that he should probably get going.

She protested and then yawned again.

“Okay, I admit defeat,” she said and stretched. Azriel could see her stomach when her shirt rode up from the motion. It looked so wonderful and soft and…

He didn’t even have time to finish his thought, because Elain was trying to stand up by herself. Trying, and failing miserably.

“Could you help me to the bathroom?” she whispered and nodded to a white door just by the kitchen.

“Of course,” Azriel put his arm around her waist and supported her. She didn’t complain, but he could see the pain on her face. It hurt him to see her like this.

“I’m just gonna brush my teeth. Don’t go just yet.” She closed the door. Azriel leaned against the wall next to the door and dragged his hands through his hair.

He looked around the room, not quite believing that he was here. In Elain’s home.

This date had been even better than he could ever have imagined. He was actually quite happy that they hadn’t gone out, but he obviously didn’t like that the reason for staying home was that she was hurt.

The door opened again, and Elain looked at Azriel with a pale face. She was so obviously in pain. Azriel grabbed her around the waist again and held her up.

“Do you have any painkillers?”

She nodded. “By the bed. Could you help me? Just to the door.”

Azriel started leading the way, but after two steps Elain winced.

Azriel couldn’t take it anymore. “Hold on,” he warned her, and then he picked her up. She gasped and flung her arms around his neck. This was the closest they had ever been. One of his fingers graced the hem of her shirt. He could feel her skin there. He had to take a deep breath. “Is this okay?”

“Mhm,” she breathed, and he walked her to her room. He stopped at the door. It was a cozy bedroom. The walls were painted a dark blue and above her bed hung a giant painting with a floral motif in a gold frame.

“Nice room,” he said. He didn’t put her down. She had said that she only needed help to the door, but he couldn’t see her walking to her bed all by herself,

“Thank you.”

“Do you want me to...” he started, but he was interrupted when Elain said his name.

“Azriel,” she repeated.

He looked at her then, her face just inches from his. He could see every freckle on her skin. He could count every eyelash. His eyes went to her plush lips, and then back to her eyes.

Had she noticed?

She had his attention now.

“Azriel,” she whispered. “Are you going to kiss me?”

Azriel was taken aback. He hadn’t expected that question. He didn’t mind, of course not. he was just surprised. She could probably see that in his eyes, because she quickly tried to smooth over it. “I mean, we don’t have to. I completely understand if you don’t want to, and I..”

Azriel kissed her temple to make her quiet. It worked very well. “You’re hurt.”

“Just my ankle,” Elain pouted. “Also, haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘kiss it better’?”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that it means that you should kiss the place that hurts,” he teased.

“Eh, semantics. I think a kiss on the lips might do wonders.”

Azriel leaned in, almost touching his lips to her. Almost. “Oh, is that what you think?” he teased.

“Mhm,” she breathed.

Azriel stayed like that for a while, his lips just out of reach. He wanted her to beg. He wanted her to go crazy with want. With need.

But that was for another time. Right now, he just needed to kiss her.

Elain was tilting her head to get closer to him. Her mouth was slightly parted and her eyes scanned his before fluttering shut.

Offer and permission.

Azriel leaned in slowly and brushed his lips to hers. It was a feathery light touch. He could feel Elain shiver in his arms, and he held her closer. Tighter. He touched her lips with his again, and he knew he needed more. He tasted her lips once more, his tongue teasing her lower lip. Elain opened up for him, letting him in. She moaned when he deepened the kiss. When he pressed his lips more firmly to hers. When her tongue joined his. They were both panting, unable to stop. Elain’s hands went to Azriel’s hair, gently scraping his scalp while her tongue tangled with his. The sensation made Azriel crazy, and if she hadn’t been injured he would have lowered her to the bed and continued his kisses down her body until she was writhing underneath him, begging for more.

But she was hurt. And it was late.

Unwillingly, Azriel slowed down before breaking the kiss.

“More,” Elain panted and kissed his jaw.

Azriel chuckled. “Don’t be greedy.”

She pouted when he walked over to her bed, and it was the cutest pout Azriel had ever seen. It was so cute in fact, that he had to lean in again and kiss her lower lip. He didn’t know how it happened, but he was suddenly sitting on Elain’s bed with her in his lap. He was still holding her tight, her fingers still in his hair. Their lips were locked in another kiss. This one was even hotter. Even deeper. Azriel thought to himself that he didn’t need air if he could just taste these lips for the rest of his life.

After a small eternity, they did have to break apart though. Turns out the human body needs air. Stupid body.

Elain leaned her forehead against his.

“I should go,” Azriel said, even though every fiber of his being protested that statement.

She nodded. “Okay.” She was still out of breath. So was he.

Elain kissed his forehead, which made him feel oddly safe. “So, can I have a second date?”

Azriel chuckled and nuzzled her neck. She smelled divine. He wanted nothing more than to taste her there; just below her ear.

“You can have as many dates as you want.”

“Good to know.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

After a few minutes of catching their breaths, Azriel helped Elain into bed. He fetched her a glass of water for the painkillers and made sure that all her windows were closed.

He leaned against her doorframe, trying to memorize the sight of her in bed. She looked so cute. So vulnerable.

“Could you lock the door when you leave? My keys are on the kitchen counter. You can just put them in the mailbox.”

“Of course.” Azriel walked into her room again and leaned over her. He kissed the top of her head and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Sleep well, Elain.”

“You too, Azriel.”

She was already drifting off.

Azriel walked quietly through the apartment and made sure that the door was locked behind him.

Azriel was walking home on clouds that evening.

In his bones, he could feel that this was the start of something wonderful.

When he climbed into bed that night, he saw a new message from Elain. She must have sent it just after he left her place. He opened the message, and there was no text. Just an audio file.

He pressed play and was immediately met with her heavenly voice.

“I thought that this might help you sleep,” Elain whispered, and Azriel could feel tingles up and down his spine. “Thank you for a wonderful date, Azriel.”

And then she repeated his name. For five minutes, she was whispering “Azriel, Azriel, Azriel,” over and over again, and it made Azriel both sleepy and aroused.

It was actually a very pleasant feeling, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

That night, he dreamt about brown eyes, golden hair, and the sweetest lips he had ever tasted. Azriel had never felt better.

#elriel fanfic #elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel x elain #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #dottielovegoodfanfiction

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years

Text

Soiled Tea

Chapter 23: Blitzo gets home and contemplates things.

Warnings: As always, mpreg, and brief mentions of underage drinking. Generally shitty thoughts about babies.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“Blitz.” There was a pounding on his door, and it took a few seconds to process that it was Loona. “You’ve been in there for like three hours. The fuck happened?”

“Piss off!” Blitzo called back, scrolling mindlessly down Voxtagram with only a pause to scrub at his sore eyes. The phone buzzed with another text from Stolas, and he swiped it up without looking like the last twelve. A growl rumbled from behind at the door, and the scratch of Loona’s claws dragged down the wood.

“Fine, don’t tell me! It’s not like I care either way, I just want to know if you’re going to start bitching at me over whatever it is!” Loona’s weight creaked the floorboards as she padded away from the door, mere moments before Blitzo’s stomach growled.

Oh. Right. He hadn’t eaten properly in days, and the little fucker was going to be feeling that.

...It’d be easier to starve the bastard if it wouldn’t hurt him too. He only realized that his fingers had dug into his stomach when the red glow fluttered in and out, and his teeth gritted as he pushed himself off the bed, the creak reminding him how badly he needed a new mattress and frame. Stolas sleeping on it the other day couldn’t have helped, and it was going to collapse under him one of these days. There was probably some kind of metaphor in there he didn’t feel like puzzling through at the moment.

Moping later. Food now. He was pretty sure they’d stocked up a few days ago, so unless Loona had eaten everything since he’d been out, he could make some cup noodles and curl back up on the bed in peace. Loona was draped over the couch with screams and gorey splatters echoing from the TV when he exited his room, and she raised an eyebrow at seeing him mere moments after he’d told her to piss off. Blitzo sighed.

“Look, I just want to bury my sorrow in some cheap-ass junk right now, got it?”

She pointed to the freezer. “Try the strawberry scoop.”

“Thanks, dear.” First he needed to get the noodles, though. Blitzo opened the cabinet, reaching for the cups before brushing against a small bag. Why did he have a bag in the…?

His fingers froze, touching the edge of the packet- it was Stolas’s tea from their café meeting, tied with a pretty little bow. He’d mostly been over the nausea hump by the time he’d gotten it so it had been stuffed in the back of the cabinet, and right now, it was leaned against a partially-opened hot chocolate packet that must have been years old. It made the wood smell both moldy and chocolatey-fresh. Over the last few weeks, the powder had seeped into the mix of the tea- and probably ruined it too. There was an ant curled up in front of the fancy little bag which was almost certainly dead, flat on its back with legs curled heavenward.

The thing was moving again, but when he smacked the side of his stomach, it turned over a little with a shudder and stopped. Progress.

His hands were shaking by the time he pulled the noodles out from next to the tea (and next to the hot chocolate, and some expired crackers, and the little baggie of rat poison he’d borrowed from Millie and Moxxie’s closet) and began boiling the water to prepare them the same way he’d done hundreds of times before. No thinking required. The TV droned on in the living room, but the volume was low and he could still hear the water dripping from the leak over the fridge and his own heartbeat.

Casually, he leaned back against the countertop as he waited for the water to soak in, then realized that angle made the bump stick out even more, and also that he’d never actually taken off Stolas’s shirt. The knot in the back was thick and hard on his back, and it pressed on his protruding vertebrae against the granite. He tapped the end of his tail next to a stray protein bar wrapper on the countertop before sweeping it towards the trash. It missed, fluttering down to the dirty floor like a dying moth. Blitzo scooped up the cup, stabbing the top with a fork before bringing it back to his room and turning on a video of some idiot screaming at video games to drown out whatever thoughts couldn't be suppressed otherwise.

Loona didn’t bother him for the rest of the night, but he could hear her slam the fridge’s door shut and pop open a can of something around ten. He peeled off the shirt and went to bed.

__________________

An hour after going to bed, he realized that the sex-sweat stuck to his skin was itchy, sticky, and smelled like shit. He managed to last approximately fifteen more minutes before dragging himself off the bed and crawling into the shower, flipping on the water and twisting it to scalding. He didn’t bother to scrub anything down, simply letting the pounding water pelt into his body until the caked sweat slid off like a bug shedding its skin.

Loona was still in the living room, playing some kind of racing game. They made eye contact for a few seconds and she sighed, chucking him a chocolate bar that she’d fished out of the cushions at some point during the night when he’d been in his room.

Sure, she couldn’t actually eat it herself anyway, but the gesture was nice, even though his teeth felt kind of fuzzy when he flopped back on the bed again after pulling on a worn-out band tee that had become a crop top at some point even before the pregnancy.

__________________

The kid was moving. Of course they were. It wasn’t like he could ask for sleep or for them to allow him to pretend they didn’t exist for a few hours, could he? They were just a lump of stupid meat, they didn't know any better than being an annoying pest that their daddy couldn't stand. He screamed into the pillow again. It didn’t help.

__________________

Maybe he could join the circus again. He had new, better jokes now. Like his life. (That one would have gotten a laugh, or at least it would have with a crowd that wasn’t drunk off its ass- or maybe that would have been the exact audience for it. Kids were never drunk enough, and the ones whose parents shoved bottles at them to get them to shut up just puked everywhere. Their taste buds weren't developed enough yet, it just tasted like piss half the time before you got used to it. He still remembered the smell of the cheesy chips incident.)

__________________

Had Stolas planned this all along? He’d sure as fuck seemed to think that Blitzo had already known what the deal was, and maybe he’d wondered a little, but come on, the guy had been so excited, anybody would have figured that he wanted to be the one to raise it. Babies were (literally) shitty little leeches on the lives of whoever was unlucky enough to pop them out, but Stolas had been so pumped for another kid, obviously he’d wanted to raise it. This was entirely his fault. This was entirely his fault. Blitzo was a smart guy, he'd find some way to get out of this. He'd made it this far, hadn't he?

__________________

Could he get out of this? He tried to remember exactly how the deal had been phrased, but then realized that Stolas would probably yank the book back if he did manage to find some way to kill the thing without offing himself. Well, shit. That’d suck, and he’d probably lose Moxxie and Millie in the bargain, and then him and Loona would get chucked out on the concrete and have to forage for scraps until they managed to mug some particularly wealthy sinner. Could you pass on syphilis through bites? Loonie’d probably know. It was something to keep in mind as a potential threat.

__________________

Did orphanages do speed dial? No, Stolas would find it somehow. He probably had some kind of magic tracking device for occasions like this.

__________________

God damn he needed a better mattress. He could still feel the indent where Stolas had been if he rolled over just right, and he smacked at it until it felt like the rest of the bed.

It didn’t actually help that much, but at least when one spot got hot, he could roll over a little to the cooler half without sinking in.

__________________

What would it even look like? Would it be kind of cute or some mutant monstrosity? Both its dads were hot, so it would have to have something going for it if it wasn’t just some horrible moaning mess of feathers and patchy skin.

He hadn’t really minded the thought of being, like, an uncle or some shit. There for the fun parts, popping in like twice a month to jingle keys above its face and teach it to play paintball. If Barbie had squeezed something out after fucking around when they were still a duo act he could have dealt with that as long as they didn’t have to sleep in the same room- he didn’t really mind kids that much in small doses. They could be fun little chaotic monsters, even though they were judgmental as shit and smelled fear.

With this, though, he couldn’t just hand it back when he got bored, and he always, always got bored or scared or- fuck, not thinking about that.

He would try scrolling Voxtagram again, but he came across an ad for maternity wear before trying to go to sleep the first time and nearly chucked the phone.

__________________

The only thing that kept him from rolling off the bed and grabbing a hard drink to knock him out, baby be damned, was the fact that he’d found a spot that almost was comfortable in the sheets now soaked with sweat again. Unfortunately, the clock said it was 5:13 AM.

__________________

The alarm blared directly in Blitzo’s ear and he whapped it with a pillow, slamming it off the bedside table and into the floor. It was definitely broken now from the horrid cracking noise, and he groaned, scrubbing at his eyes. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck."

“Morning, sleeping ugly,” Loona said as she gargled mouthwash in the sink. She had the bags under her eyes that probably matched his and said she’d been drinking more than usual last night. Smart kid. He’d picked one that he could be a parent to without changing diapers for a reason- so he could be supportive to an actual person and not just a screaming little meat-lump that couldn’t even drink or smoke yet. Maybe Stolas could make it magically grow up so he wouldn't have to deal with that shit? “You gonna finally tell me what the fuck happened? You look like you watched the apartment blow up and you smell even worse.”

“Come on, honey, I showered-” Blitzo cleared his throat. To be fair, sex-stink didn't come off that easily when you were going at it for days, and Loona had always had a real sensitive nose. “Daddy’s maaaaaybe got a little tiny problem,” he muttered, and she raised an eyebrow.

“And that problem is? Usually, you’ll be upfront about why you’re being a whiny-“

“Apparently,” he started, and his tone made Loona’s mouth snap shut, “Stolas thought I was going to be the one actually raising the little bastard.”

“What the fuck? You two didn’t clear this up months ago?” Her claws dug into the counter as one eye twitched, and a bit of mouthwash foam dripped off her chin.

“I didn’t think we’d have to! He wanted the thing, he’d take it, that made sense!” He dragged a hand down his face, and Loona leaned back against the sink, crossing her arms. The foam hit her top, soaking in next to the left tit.

“So get rid of it.”

“I can’t, he enchanted my guts.” Blitzo snatched a butter knife smeared with long-dried jam off the table and aimed it at his stomach- moments before it touched the skin, red flashed. His hand shot to the side, preventing anymore more than a slight scratch. “I don’t even want to know what’d happen if I tried to take a pill or something and puked it up. Explode, probably.”

Loona sighed. “Well, this is fuckin’ peachy.” She crossed the kitchen, grabbing some toast that popped up, pressing more down and dropping the plain bread with a pad of butter on the side on a plate in front of him. “Toss it at an orphanage.”

“It’s gonna be a freak, it’d probably just get mauled. Imp kids are vicious, especially orphans, they’ve all gotta fight for table scraps.”

“Why would you care?” Loona shifted a little on her seat. “You get rid of it either way.”

“Stolas’d kill me.”

“He likes your dick too much, he wouldn’t. I’m not changing diapers. Why can’t he take it again?”

“He thought his wife would shank the fucker. Considering she tried to stab me, it’s probably not that far off. I’ll find some way to-” he yawned. “To pawn it off or something. Maybe we find somebody that likes exotic pets.” His head swam with visions of a shiny, gilded cage containing a little feathered imp that wore sequins and hissed at anything that got too close. He stabbed at the butter. “I don’t want this either, alright?”

“But you went along with having it anyway, and with me, you wanted-” She cut herself off and drummed her fingers against her bicep. “This is your fuck-up, I’m just saying don’t drag me into it.”

“Very reassuring, thank you,” Blitzo muttered, sarcasm thick enough to gore like it was a pig. "We have any coffee?"

"I finished it the other night. We can go to that place on Sixth before work." Loona snatched her own toast as it popped up too quickly to actually have toasted any and stuffed it in her mouth plain, tearing off a bite and chewing in a way that was reminiscent of thoughtful. “I don’t think he’d be nice enough to let you die when it pops out, and you screw up all the time and haven’t completely ruined your life yet. You can figure shit out from there. Maybe we can sell them on the black market and move out of this fucking dump, or you can flutter your eyelashes and get him to change his mind. Worst comes to worst, it's sharing your room.”

“Thanks, Loonie,” Blitzo mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “Always know how to cheer me up.”

The phone buzzed, and he was about to ignore it again until he saw that it was from Millie.

“Still at Stolas’s or coming in to work today Blitz? Moxx and I miss you :)’

Blitzo wiped crumbs on his pants and groaned before typing back.

‘yeh im coimin back’

He added extra jam to the bread before shoving the rest in his mouth, and the kid kicked his bladder hard enough that he almost pissed himself right at the table.

Today was gonna be fuckin’ peachy.

#lotsa little headcanon-y sprinklings throughout here #shadow writes stuff #one time #helluva mpreg #helluva boss #mpreg #daddy blitzo #tagging the main tag because why not

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writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

blurred lines | dave hodgman

word count; 9237

summary; a few miscommunications almost ruin something that could be phenomenal.

notes; I had this idea, and I really liked it, so i just rolled with it. this is the dave insert for my birthday week celebration/7k follower milestone.

warnings; smut, public sex, car sex.

There weren’t many people that were more popular than Jane and her group of friends. They were like high school elites, and yet there was always that even more exclusive tier, those who were for all intents and purposes, teen royalty.

As he was saying, there weren’t many people more popular than the likes of Jane, Stanwyck and Brianna. However, Dave could without a doubt say that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was.

She had more likes on just one of her Instagram posts than that of all of Dave’s posts combined. If he added the combined sum of Big C’s and Simon’s, they’d probably still fall short, even collectively. There wasn’t a student or teacher that disliked her. She was well known not only in his own school, but in others too. Even Aubrey knew of her and liked her, and that was saying something, because Aubrey had a twisted sense of importance and political standing in every view of it.

That was why Dave couldn’t quite understand exactly how he’d gotten himself into this position.

Well, that’s a lie. He knew exactly how he got himself into this dreadfully embarrassing position, that would likely ruin not only the remaining months of his senior social life, but was so colossal that it may well actually follow him to college, too.

See, it had all started three days ago, a Monday lunch-time just like any other, as he sat pouting into his basket of curly fries as Simon once again scrolled through Aubrey’s latest uploaded pictures on Instagram with her new boyfriend and shaming him in an attempt to feel better. Dave was fine, he’d moved on, truly, but Simon clearly hadn’t, and needed his own closure on the situation.

It soon followed with “so David, which of all the lovely ladies in this school are you going to take to the dance, because you have two tickets, a dashing suit, and I refuse to let you waste them,” which had prompted Dave to snort a laugh, and make a joke about asking the heartbreaker (Y/N) (Y/L/N) dance, since he had nothing else to lose.

Apparently, he’d still had a shred of dignity, which was curling up and dying with every second that passes him by, but back to how this all came to be;

Unfortunately for him, his ‘good friend’ Jane had passed by at exactly that moment, and had been just thrilled at the prospect of him finally asking out the girl he’d “been pining over so long I thought you were going to turn into Ryan Gosling and rebuild he a house out in the country after hanging from a Ferris wheel”, which still left a bitter taste in his mouth, because how had the girl picked up in his pining for you, but never once picked up on the feelings he’d once held for her?

Despite that, a collection of kids Dave wasn’t confident in the names of but often followed Jane around had seated themselves at their table, and Jane - in all her innocence and confusion - was excitedly telling them about how Dave was finally going to ask out his crush.

That was exactly how he found himself here, almost two days later, feeling all pairs the eyes in the more-crowded-than-usual corridors as he leaned against your locker and tried to look as casual as possible as he waited for you, as though it wasn’t scaring him shitless and making him sweat like a sinner in church. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with one finger, trying to distract himself from all the people watching and whispering, waiting to see if Dave Hodgman could, in fact, score (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or if more likely, he was going to be rejected in a pile of flaming shame and the crumbling of what shredded remains he had left of his dignity.

“Hey, Dave.”

He felt like a moron. A moron that had been looking the wrong way down the corridor and now you were standing behind him, leaning back with a small laugh to avoid being hit when he spun around to face you with such speeds that his own head was spinning. “Hey! Hi! Hello!”

He cringed visibly at his ridiculous greeting, the confidence he’d held was slipping from him with every passing second, and you did a better job of avoiding the lingering gazes in the halls than he was, you barely seemed to notice them as you allowed him to step out of the way of your locker so that you could swap out your books, but he supposed you were used to it. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you, there are some rumours flying around.”

He wished he could hate the way you were teasing him, but he couldn't. It was playful, not mocking, and you were offering him such a friendly smile and making him feel comfortable once again, and he just couldn't find it within himself to dislike any part of you. “Yeah, I had a question for you..”

“You had a question for me?”

“I suspect you already know what it is” His shoulders sagged, he felt himself giving up, the stress and pressure were just too much, but he at least wanted to be able to walk away with dignity after his inevitable rejection, he didn’t want to be seen running through the halls in order to escape your soft voice trying to let him down gently.

“Will you say it anyway?”

He fixed you with a studious gaze, unsure as to what your angle was, but gave you a stiff nod anyway, and hooked his thumbs through the straps of his backpack as he stood tall. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the ‘Night In Vegas’ dance with me? As my date. Y’know.. um.. yeah.”

“I’d love to.”

He gaped at you - blinking once, twice, three times - before his face was splitting in a grin, and he cleared his throat. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Woah.” You seemed to find amusement in his reaction, and you pulled his hand up to you and plucked a pen out of your bag, uncapping the lid with your teeth and moving the nib towards his skin, beginning to write down your number. “God, I was so nervous, and now I feel stupid. Nobody thought I would get you, not even me, and all these people are here an-”

“Get me?” Your pen had stilled on his skin, and he looked back at you, shrugging his shoulders as your face seemed to take on a neutral expression, unreadable as you watched him.

“Yeah. You’re like.. really popular, and pretty, and just way out of my league. Nobody really thought you’d go for me because it’s normally the other guys you want. Guess I’m proving everyone wrong.” Your expression flickered with something he couldn’t quite understand, but you were soon offering him a polite smile and finishing your number, dropping his hand again and tucking your pen back into your bag.

You stepped back from him, letting out a small sigh and glancing around everybody that was gathered around you, not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. “Okay, well, text me. We can sort out details. I have to go, but we’ll chat soon?”

He nodded his head moving before he could control it, and he watched you walk away with a small grin on your lips. “For sure! I’ll text, soon! See you later!”

“See’ya, Dave.”

The weeks between the day he’d asked you and going to the dance had been filled with texts at night and flirty smiles in the corridors, and Dave couldn't be more excited as he pulled on his suit. It was odd, he thought he’d clicked with Aubrey more than he’d ever click with anyone, and yet even from the simple things he’d managed to learn about you during your conversations, he felt more of a bond with you than he ever had with anyone else.

You were like an enigma, you were a little bit confusing and you often ran him in circles, but he liked trying to work you out, as if knowing you was the prize at the end of a challenging puzzle. He told you as much as he could about himself, wanting to share everything he could with you. He had felt awkward and slightly robotic in the way he went about his conversations with you, to begin with, simple texts to ask you how your day was and what you were up to, but soon enough it had resorted to one of you starting a conversation with you about anything. The jokes on the back of biscuit wrappers, something that had happened in his day, movies on the TV or even just to complain.

The two of you would sometimes even be found talking in the corridors, sharing laughs and jokes, and he found himself falling for you a little more with each passing day. He was all but buzzing with both nerves and excitement, brushing his open palms down and over his tux jacket, Stella tugging on his pants as she whined for attention, but he was too nervous and too busy to play barbies with her right now, and she just wanted him to do the deeper voices of the only male one she owned when he made his rare appearance at ‘the dreamhouse’.

A flower in a box sat on the shelf under his mirror, his fingertips still a little sticky with the gel he’d used to style his hair, and so he didn’t want to touch the corsage yet and smear it with the substance. He’d planned or get ready early, his plan to pick you up at eight was not going to be ruined because he lost track of time in the shower and ended up being late. He had one chance, and he didn’t want to fuck it up. Now, though, it seemed he was ready a little too early, because he was stuck with a good thirty-minute wait before the earliest acceptable time to come and get you would roll around, and he had nothing else to fill his time with.

He was dressed, and ready. Clean and freshly styled and just enough of his special occasion aftershave spritzed on his skin to be alluring but no overwhelming.

Okay, maybe he had a little bit of time to play barbie dolls with Stella.

With fingers tapping on the steering wheel, he peered up at the driveway to your house, watching as the clock ticked over onto 7 PM, and he let out the breath he was holding, letting the smile that had been pulling on his features finally come free, as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, a finger under his collar to tug it loose for a second as he pulled up the string of messages the two of you had been exchanging.

hey cutie. i’m outside.

The little speech bubble at the bottom of the screen danced for a few minutes, the nail of his thumb caught between his teeth as he waited for you to respond, but soon it just disappeared. He waited, and waited, and soon five minutes had passed and he was beginning to worry for what was happening, the thoughts that this all may just be an elaborate joke was slipping into his mind when your front door opened, closing only a second later as you came walking down the driveway with a smile on your face.

He hurried from his seat, rushing up to meet you with the corsage in his hands, and you paused upon seeing it, before your eyes were finding his, wide and wondering as you closed the gap between you until you were standing right in front of him.

“Is that for me?”

“Yeah! Yeah.. you said you were wearing a gold dress, and I couldn't find a gold flower, so I got a white one, but it does have a cute little tassel on it that matches the fringe-tassel thing you have going on and-” He cut himself off with a series of stutters and breath sighs when you kissed his cheek, your thumb coming up a second later to clear away the red lipstick print you’d left on his skin from the freshly applied coat that was still a little wet. “I could have come up and met you, at the door. Do you want me to meet your parents, o-”

“It’s good, Dave, really. Let’s just go have fun, okay?”

He swallowed, glancing between your gaze and the front door, before giving it up and nodding, cracking the box open to present you with the flower to put on your wrist. “Sure, I can’t wait.”

He held the door for you, held your hand as you stepped into the car, and made sure you were settled before he got in on his own side. He was determined to be the perfect gentleman. This was his one shot to prove to you how good the two of you could be together, and he wasn’t willing to mess it up. When he got into his own seat and clipped his safety belt in, you were fiddling with the dials on the dashboard and tinkering with the radio channels, switching over to the CD he had in, and his cheeks flared a little as you looked over the back of the CD case at the songs. “You mind if I pick the music?”

“Knock yourself out, babe, whatever you want.”

You nodded offering him a wide grin as he set the car off into motion, and he peeled away from the sidewalk outside your house to head toward the school. It was a short drive, but he couldn’t help but notice every little thing you did that only made you seem more like a regular person to him, and not like someone who was miles and miles out of his league, it made him feel calmer, like this wasn’t all just some big and elaborate prank that was the punchline of, but instead like he was here with a pretty date to have a great evening.

Your fingers tapped along on your leg in time with the tune, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and before he knew it, he was pulling up in the back of the somewhat crowded parking lot, trying to find a space that wasn’t too close to the crowds gathering around the doors, and you were brushing your dress down and stepping out the car, grinning as you looked between him and doors.

Shooting a quick text to Simon and Big-C to let them know that he was here, he tucked the device into his pocket, offering his arm to you and grinning when you accepted it. His friends met the pair of you at the door, and this was the nervous moment he’d been waiting for.

Simon was quiet for all of two seconds, before he was smirking widely and holding his hand out to introduce himself, the slew of comments neither of you would be able to avoid all night beginning to pour from him without hesitation; “Simon Daldry. You look absolutely ravishing tonight, far better than Aubrey ever did, you really traded up, Davie-boy.”

“Don’t call me that, and don’t talk about Aubrey.”

“No, Davie-boy, do spill. Who’s Aubrey?” You turned to him, a teasing look on your face and he sighed, raising his eyebrows at him, his eyes flicking down to your hands when he felt your fingers slide down his arm and lace with his, squeezing encouragingly. You were telling him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to, but you were staring at him intently and still giving him that look that was giving him the confidence to be by your side all night, and so he caved.

Instead of voicing his history himself, though, he turned to give Simon a pointed look, and Big-C clapped him on the shoulder as the shortest boy all but vibrated with glee at the chance to tell you the story.

“Aubrey is our dear boy’s ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t very nice, we didn’t like her very much.” Dave dropped his head back with a groan as his friend took the chance to throw some insults into the conversation and he squeezed his hand around ours to draw back your attention, cutting Simon off as the boy took a breath to start off on yet another rant;

‘How about we go and get our picture taken, yeah? I’ve seen some of the photos on Snapchat already, and they're pretty good. They really went all out; neon signs, props like the strip attractions, there’s even a red carpet.”

“A red carpet? Well, how could we resist?”

He guided you along, your heels carrying you at closer to his height and your strides wider as you expertly balanced in the shoes, thanking him when he held the door open, your jaw dropping form the second you stepped inside with the small group. The bass was beating through the floors and the music was loud, even from the main entrance, the hall holding the dance still a small walk away, and anticipation filled his body.

He may or may not be a sucker for school dances.

The room was decorated with dice, cards, flashing banners and shiny decorations with bright lights. Black, red and white hung from all of the walls, and everything screamed Sin City extravagance, but had been toned down to high school appropriate. The usual red solo cups that were always brought in for the punch and drinks had been swapped out for plastic champagne and martini glasses, which definitely looked funny being filled with the non-alcoholic and red fruit-punch, but it was a fun thought nonetheless, and he was impressed by how quickly it had all come together, being that none of it had been up when they’d been ins school earlier that day.

The flashes of the camera set up in the corner snapped him out from his wonder, and he looked over to find you in much the same way, and he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as you looked around. “Wanna’ take pictures?”

You nodded vehemently, the two of you making your way over to the setup, and bursting out with laughter at what you saw. Big-C was accompanying Simon, who had clearly manoeuvred him into a slightly less than formal dance photo pose. The pair of them were recreating the famous Titanic pose, the one of Jack and Rose at the front of the ship as she insisted that she was flying, and neither of you could contain your laughter as you watched on.

“Simon looks like he’s having the time of your life, but your other friend looks like he’d rather actually be on the ship as it sank.”

“Simon is insane, and I’m really not sure how Big-C put’s up with him.” He shrugged, allowing you to drag him into the queue for photos taken, the words you were running a mile a minute about different poses you could do were going in one ear and out of the other, because he didn’t care what pose you dragged him into, however formal or informal, because he was shocked by how seamlessly you were fitting into his friendship group, and how his friends had known you for less than ten minutes but already seemed to like you ten times more than they ever did his ex.

By the time your turn to take photos had come around, he hadn't heard a single one of your ideas for pictures to take, and simply let himself be guided by the photographer. He found himself standing behind you, hands sitting on your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist, your own fingers lacing through his own. The first one was a formal shot, the sort of one his mother would have taken of the two of you had she met you, and he knew she’d love it when he presented it to her. In fact, she might actually frame it. He did look good tonight.

The second was a little more playful, his head was tipped up and chin balanced on the top of your head as he beamed at the camera, holding you a little tighter and pinching at your side, prompting your face to screw up and a laugh to bubble up from you as he did, and the final one featured him leaning around you, the tip of his nose brushing your skin as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was more you than him, his face was mostly obscured by his position and all that could be seen was his arms, legs and the top of his head, but he knew it would be his favourite simply based on the was your cheeks had been tinted red and your eyes glistening when he looked at you after hearing the ‘click’ of the camera taking the photo.

“They’re going to be cute photos.”

The pair of you were hurried off of the platform, and took your hand in his once again, the four of you walking along the halls, following the music as it got louder and louder, and he twisted his head to face you, a smirk on his lips and his eyes dragging along you, head to toe. “That’s because there’s a cute girl in them.”

“Dave, that was shocking. Appalling, actually. How the fuck did you get someone as out of you league as her to go out with you when you have lines like that?”

He felt his face blank into boredom as he looked over at Simon, but you simply laughed, pulling him through the open doors and telling him not to mind it, because you thought it was sweet, and your reassurance was enough to give him confidence on his statement one again. Bodies filled the room, some on the dance floor, some milling around the food tables, others sitting at tables and filling the seats.

Lifting your joined hands up, he spun you in a twirl, a surprised sound leaving you before you were giggling, his brows wiggling suggestively as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Let’s start with a dance, yeah?”

You had danced, the two of you swirling around on the dance floor until your legs were aching and you were gasping for a drink. Some songs were upbeat, and these were the songs that the two of you busted out your best moves for, limbs flying in all directions as you cracked up with laughter upon watching the other move, and your hair flew around, pink coating both of your cheeks as the blood rushed underneath, heat flashing around you until you were slumped against one another and holding yourselves up, using your intertwined body for support as you gasped for breath and tried to calm your hearts as tears pushed at your eyes from laughing so much.

Then there were the slower songs, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, or your temple resting just below his as you leaned into him. His arms were around your waist, or his hands in yours, and your own fingers were looped around his shoulders, fingers in the shorter hair at the base of his neck and your nails scratching at the skin softly, lulling him into a feeling of peace so serene that his eyes were fluttering shut, his breathing levelling out, and he realised he could definitely get used to it. He liked being able to hold you so close, and being able to feel you pressed up to his chest, your lips almost brushing on the times you'd look up to talk to him and let your forehead press to his own as you mumbled quiet words of calm chatter between you both.

There were also the more sensual songs, the ones that had too much bass and sliding notes to be a slow song, and it was with those songs that Dave found himself suffering the most, his eyes closing and jaw dropping open, hands gripping your body tightly. Your body would roll into his, your ass pressed to him when you turned in his arms and your body swaying with his own, never stopping him when he dragged his hands over your body, never too much for the public eye but more than enough to get the two of you worked up, and you never flinched away when he began to pepper the bare skin of your shoulder with light kisses and the occasional flick of his tongue against your skin.

By the time the two of you had collapsed in your seats, you had thanked him with a kiss on his cheek when he brought you punch, and you’d pulled your chair up so close to his that your thighs were pressed together, your body facing his and elbow sitting on the back of his chair, fingers once again in his hair and playing with that sweet pattern that made his whole body sag with relaxation.

He’d leaned into you, barely getting a chance to enjoy the feeling of the quiet and intimate moment, the two of you feeling more like a couple than he had ever felt when he was with Aubrey. You simply enjoyed his presence, and you made him feel calm. He wasn’t nervous and sweaty and on edge when he was with you, the way she had made him feel was so entirely different that he couldn't even compare the two of you, because you were unique, nothing like anyone he’d ever met before.

Simon had soon interrupted you both, a deck of cards in his hands as he insisted that you played him in poker, and he pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand as you turned away to face him as he dealt up. The two of you were teamed up, and you had ended up in his lap, balanced across one of his legs as his chin popped on your shoulder, arms tightly around your waist to hold your back to his chest as you held the cards.

Not only had you won the game, but you’d done the whole thing while never once caving to Simon’s trash talk, meeting him with it and raising the stakes until him and Big-C were simply watching on as the two of you playfully slated one another, goading the other to break their poker face as you played, and Simon had even offered you a shake of his hand upon winning, and it was the most sportsmanly thing he’d ever seen his friend do. He was normally such a sore loser, but maybe that’s just because it was you that he’d lost to.

The feeling that he was waiting for the ball to drop, that there was something coming around the corner or a big joke waiting to be unveiled was gone, because you were so clearly enjoying yourself that it wasn’t possible to be able to fake that kind of joy. He was having one of the nights of his life, the flickering of the lights, the beat of the music in the floor, the taste of the fruit-punch hanging on his lips and the feel of you in his arms. You had managed to convince him into taking pictures, the two of you wandering around the room to take selfies with all the fun props and displays, wanting to truly capture the Vegas theme in all its flashy entirety.

His favourite one had to be the picture of you posing under a replication of the famous sign. ‘Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada’ was sparkling above your head as you looked up at it, your hands held out on either side in a way that made it look like you were holding up the sign, in the same way that tourists took pictures that made it look like they were leaning on the Eiffel Tower or holding up the tower of Pisa. It was cheesy, and he loved it, because you were so carefree and happy in the shot.

Being with you made his social anxiety melt away, your own carefree attitude washed over him and it sunk into him, taking it on himself. The lingering gazes and whispers never bothered him, or made him wonder. He managed to let it all go, because his only focus was you.

As the night went on, the pair of you were getting warmer and warmer, fanning yourselves with your hands as the sweaty bodies in the room rose the heat up, and you had only hesitated for a moment when he offered you a walk outside, sighing with what he assumed to be relief, before nodding and lacing your fingers with his as he guided you back out into the cool night, the sky dark now and the stars twinkling overhead.

There were far fewer people now, a few boys lingering on the other side of the field, clouds of smoke rising up around them with no surprise as to what they were doing, but the car park was empty, and your hands swung between you both as you walked along in comfortable silence around the outskirts of the cars. It was halfway around when he finally pulled you to a stop, pushing down the butterflies that were going wild in his stomach, and raising a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing over your skin delicately.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You’re absolutely stunning.” his words were breathed out on a sigh, and your lips flicked up at the corners.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Hodgman.” He tilted your chin up a little more, watching the way your eyes darkened, and his jaw dropped when he felt your fingers hook into his belt loops, and tug his body towards your own, hips pressing together. Swallowing thickly, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, taking a quick inhale of breath as his eyes got stuck on the way your plump lower lip was caught between your teeth, seductive in ways he couldn't even fathom. “Are you going to do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, or not?”

“Fuck, yeah, I am.” With that, his mouth was descending onto your own, heavy and wet as his wet lips meshed with your own. He could taste the lipstick you wore, and the slightly sticky fruit punch residue in your mouth, the flavour of which only increased when your lips parted for him and your tongue dipped out to find his own.

It was needy and hot, and raw in a way that made his head spin, and one of his hands came up to lace in your hair as he backed you up into the streetlamp only a few feet away, your back arching into him as your skin met the cold metal, and the sound you made in your shock went straight to his groin. It was sweet and low, a little groan that was crossed with a whimper, and your hips were rolling up into his.

His other hand slipped down and around your waist, past your lower back until he was taking a handful of your ass in his palm, squeezing roughly at the flesh and this time, you both let out moans at the feeling. Your bodies were flush now, the heat from inside was back, like a raging fire between your bodies as you rutted against one another, pulling back for gasping breaths before diving back into one another’s mouths once again. Your lipstick was smeared around your mouth and his own, your hair was messy from the pretty style it had been in at the beginning of the night, and you were a picture-perfect mess, the sort of sight he wanted or wake up to, or fall asleep by after a long night of holding you close to him and showing you how much you meant to him.

It wasn’t love, far from it, but the spark that he thought could turn into so much more had never been brighter, it had never felt this good, and he found himself sinking into your bliss with every rock of your bodies and every drag of your lips over his, every sweet noise to meet his ears or every moan he made that you muffled with your own mouth. It was getting heavy, and you showed no signs of stopping and he didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to get caught with your legs around his waist as he fucked you against a metal pole, because the way you were now grinding down onto his thigh was very clear, and he was only seconds away from pulling down the spaghetti straps of your dress to see whether or not you actually had a bra on underneath your clothing.

“We should.. um.. move. Car? I think we should go to the car.” He barely managed to get his words out, but you were pushing him away from the post, hands tight in the collar of his suit jacket as you tore your lips from his, looking around for the vehicle, and his mouth descended to your neck, licking and kissing along your skin. You seemed to find it, because only a moment later you were pushing him in that direction, his feet moving underneath him and your hand rifling through his pockets for the keys, before his back was meeting cold metal this time, and he hissed out at the feeling.

He forced himself to remove his hand from your ass, fumbling for the handle when he heard the car sound it’s unlocking, and when he finally managed to wrench it open, he was quickly being pushed into the driver's seat, the keys tossed carelessly onto the dashboard and his hands reaching to push the chair back as far as it could go as your own reached for the lever to flatten the seat back.

Suddenly, he was laying down, the door slamming as you straddled him in the vehicle, hair framing his face as your lips met yours once again, and now he was able to get both hands on your ass, and had his mouth not been so deliciously otherwise occupied, he would have been smirking as he groped at the fleshy mounds in bliss. The windows were fogging up, the tent in his pants pressing to your clit each time he thrust his hips up to meet your movements, and his cock twitching in his pants with every squeaky moan you let out, and every breathy moan of his name that sounded out.

Pulling away for only a second, his lips were still pouted, but his jaw soon dropped open when you pushed away the straps of your dress, the flimsy material falling away to pool at your waist, you breasts on full display to him, bouncing as you rocked down into him, and nipples perky and pointed out for him, skin showing a thin layer of goosebumps with your arousal showing clearly.

His question had been answered; you were not wearing a bra. He fucking knew it.

Dragging his palms up and over your smooth skin, he cupped your tits in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs teasing over your nipples, and an entirely new sound left you, one that had his gut twisting with desire, and a primal urge raring up within him. You pushed your chest up into his hands, your head falling back and your own hands finding his wrists, holding his touch on your body as you rode yourself down onto him, the two of you nearing you peaks, even with the layers of clothing between you, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to still your hips atop him.

“Baby, as much as I love what you’re doing, if you keep it up then I’ll cum and the fun will be over.” His voice was hoarse, even to himself, and you took a steady breath of your own, leaning down to place a softer and gentler kiss to his lips, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth when you shifted away from him.

“Better put the condom on and put that cock to use then, huh?”

His eyes widened, spluttering falling from him, before he shut himself up by snapping his jaw shut and nodding quickly, sitting up with you in his lap and searching for his wallet in his jacket pocket. While he was up, he took the opportunity to shove the material down his shoulders, discarding the blazer to the back seat and popping the button on the front of the leather pouch, rifling through and praying against all known gods that he had replaced the condom in his wallet, only barely managing to contain the cheer of joy he wanted to let out when he found it.

The cards and that note were of no concern to him, instead, he was dropping that to focus on the silver packet he was holding in his hands, a low groan slipping from him as he watched your own fingers dip under the black panties he was only now catching sight of, the digits disappearing from his vision. Your head fell forward a split second later, your foreheads pressing together as you whined his name under your breath, fucking yourself down onto your fingers to the thought of him, and he’d never gotten his belt and pants undone faster.

The car was steamy and hot, windows fogged over to block any sights from outside, and now it was just the two of you, in a bubble of your own making as you barrelled quickly towards the very activities that Dave had been dreaming about since he’d first caught sight of you in Freshman year.

Finally dragging his cock free from its confines, he grinned happily to himself, pumping his already hard cock a few times, before using his teeth to help him tear open the wrapper and roll the rubber down over his shaft.

“Holy fuck, you’re amazing. So fucking hot.”

You flashed your teeth at him in a wicked grin, your hand coming over to take control of his, your fingers slick with your own juices, and he hadn't realised just how wet you were, but now as you were pulling your panties to the side and lining him up with your core, he could feel the heat of your entrance as the tip of his covered cock dragged through your folds. He felt as though he was panting like a dog, drooling and clenching his fingers beside his body, before he was lifting them up to sit on your hips, taking control as you erased him by pulling you down in one swift movement.

You sunk all the way along him, both of your eyes rolling in your head and your body shaking above him as he became fully sheathed in your warmth, and he worried that he was gripping you so tightly it may bruise you. His thighs were clenched and his head was pressing back into the cushions of the reclined seat, letting out a shuddering breath as he tried not to explode just from the feeling of being buried in your dripping cunt.

“Oh my God, Dave!”

“I know.” His words were wheezed out, a playful look on your face as the two of you took your second to adjust, but that seemed to shatter as the look you shared darkened, and only a moment later you were rolling your hips down into him. It started out slow, a series of simple and steady movements that were almost mechanic, the rise and fall of your hips as you moved up and down along his cock, slowly as you grew used to the position and the movements you could make within the car.

Once you had grown comfortable, you were spicing up your actions, slamming yourself down onto him with quick and rapid movements, and then slowing it down to tease him, rolling the muscles in your stomach and clenching yourself so tightly around him that he almost choked on his own tongue, his eyes crossing and hips bucking up into you desperately. He couldn't take it, the way you would drag him to the edge only to let him come back down, but he loved it, because you were with him, riding him in his car after having an amazing night, and he couldn't get enough of the way it felt to be completely and utterly surrounded by you.

You were taking over his every sense, everything he has was given over in surrender, because he was barely holding on at all.

Your lips brushed his, and your movements became weaker, less coordinated and more frantic as you chased your own high as well as his. Taking one of his hands in your own shakily, you folded his fingers away until only two remained, and he watched through hooded eyes and you sucked his long fingers into your mouth with swollen lips, warm and wet just like your pussy, your cheeks tightening around his digits as you soaked them with your spit. Your tongue lapped around his fingers, dipping and weaving between the digits and dips with precision that would be haunting his mind and filling his wet dreams for weeks, as well as the permanently burned-in feeling of your warmth around his cock.

Dragging the slick digits down your body, you lifted up the edge of your skirt and pushed the pads of his fingers up to your swollen and neglected clit, and he took the hint, taking control of his limb again and picking up the pace. Pushing down roughly on the button, he traced his name in jerky and needy movements, a possessive act that he took pride in, rubbing his name on the nub and only making it as far as the ‘O’ on his last name before you were exploding around him.

Your eyes were rolling back in your head, nails digging into his chest through the dress shirt covering his chest, and he arched up into the touch, your orgasm spurring on his own. Your mouth pressed to his, lips working slowly and tongue seven slower, simply dragging over the top of one another’s and tangled together in sloppy patterns as you muffled the cried of each other’s names and moaned out curses, prolonging one another’s orgasms until it was all too much to handle.

When you finally peeled yourself off of his cock and collapsed down into the seat beside him, you had a lazy smile on your face, your body slumping into the passenger seat, and he forced his seat back up into a sitting position Peeling the condom off of his cock and tying it off, hiding it in a handful of tissues that were left on his dash, he placed it in the cupholder to dispose of later, and tucked himself back into his pants, his mind still spinning from the events and his thoughts still swimming with only you, in his post-orgasmic bliss.

He undid the tie around his neck, popping a few buttons on his shirt to allow himself to breathe, and once he knew you’d adjusted your dress and cover yourself back up again, he rolled down the windows to air out the heat in the car.

“So, you can just drop me off at home now, then.”

His head whipped around to look at you, only you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at yourself in the mirror and wiping at the lipstick around your mouth, cleaning your skin up and removing any trace of the kisses he’d left on you, and the sight of you doing so made him rub at his own mouth the back of his hand, wiping away the red smudges on his skin. “What are you talking about?”

“Now that we’re done, y’know? You got me, you got your notch on your belt or whatever, and this night really has been an absolute blast, but I would love nothing more than a nice hot bath and some pasta, now.” He was speechless, he really didn’t know what to say, because right now there was a bitter taste taking over his mouth as he thought about the night, storm clouds coming in as your words settled over him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He knew he had all but spat the words at you, and he was angered by the audacity on your face to look shocked by the anger in his tone when you finally let your eyes meet his, a light shrug on your shoulders, before you picked up the keys and handed them to him, and he didn’t even look down at his palm as the cold metal met his skin. “Hey, don’t worry. I wanted to be here, I said yes to the dance and I initiated this. A lot of guys try it, want to sleep with me for the popularity boost or cool guy badge or whatever, and I think it’s dumb but you seemed so sad and nervous in the halls, and I figured, why not? You’re really cute, I like you.”

Rage swelled within him and he felt tears sting at his eyes as he let out a breathless laugh, before starting up the car and shaking his head, peeling out of the parking lot in silence. It wasn’t until the two of you had hit the main roads that he spoke over the dull playing of the radio once again. “What, so I was just a pity-fuck for you? Some kind of project, the whole night was a lie?”

“What? No!” Your hand landed on his bicep, but he shrugged you off, never even looking over at you as he flicked his way through the roads, nearing your house as he drove as quickly as the speed limits would possibly allow him to, not wanting to draw out the journey any longer than it needed to be. “I had fun tonight, I told you that!”

“You had fun on a date that I thought was real, and you thought was just something to fill the time with while you were bored?”

“I never said that!”

“Sure.” He sighed, flicking on his indicators as the two of you entered at the top end of your neighbourhood, and he heard you make a distressed little sound beside him, and even though it made his own body fill with sadness and regret, he was still angry, too angry to even consider letting those secondary emotions take over.

“Why don’t we just talk about this, I think mayb-”

“No. Why don’t we just finish this journey in silence, yeah?” He let his gaze flicker over to you for only a second, before he was looking back at the road, swallowing thickly to push down the way seeing you upset expression had made him feel. You did as he requested, and the rest of the ride was filled with tense and awkward silence, and neither of you spoke again until the car was coming to a halt outside of your house.

This time, he didn’t try to be a gentleman. He didn’t get out of his seat and open the door for you, and the evening routine he’d planned of walking you up to the door and hoping against all odds that maybe you’d kiss him was completely dashed, his newly fog-cleared mind full of regret for how fast things had advanced between the two of you, disappointment filling every nook and pore in his body.

You opened your own door, climbing from the car and walking away, the quiet click of your heels on the tiles was all that was heard, and he watched you go, eyes scanning up over you as you stopped in your place, turning and taking a breath as you prepared yourself to speak, but he cut you off before you got a chance; “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about tonight. Despite the impression you seem to have of me, I just wanted to go to a dance.”

Your face seemed to crumple in on yourself, your arms wrapping around your body, and he squeezed his hands on the steering wheel tighter, resisting the urge to rush from the car and pull you in close to him. “I-I..” Your voice cracked, like you were going to cry, and he felt his resolve crumbling, his fingers reaching for the handle of his door as you continued on, cleaning your throat. “I was just going to say thank you, I had a really great time with you, at the dance.”

He didn’t get a chance to speak, to ask you what had happened or why you’d ever thought of him like that, before you were turning on your heel, a near-run as you carried yourself up the driveway, slipping into your house and slamming the door shut. He didn’t have time to think about it or dwell on the thought because soon he was on the road, completely confused and a little bit heartbroken, and just wanting to curl up in his own bed.

Dave was walking at his locker, swapping out the books for his next class and keeping his head low, ignoring all the congratulatory pats on the back and hoots or hollers he had been receiving. It seemed that being with you had been a real boost for his popularity, because guys that have always believed themselves to be too good to talk to him were now stopping him in the corridors to start up conversations, and girls who had never looked in his direction were now batting their eyelashes and waving their fingers flirtily.

He didn’t care for any of it, but Simon was eating it all up as you went along.

He had barely gotten his fingers out of the way of the door when it slammed shut, his body jumping backwards and eyes widening, before he was turning to look at you, his shoulders slumping even further and he removed his bag from his shoulders, distracting himself with packing his bag, waiting for you to shot, or yell, or publicly tear him down. Whatever it was that you needed.

“You said it wrong. You are terrible with words.”

“Excuse me?” A flicker of anger shot through him, and he zipped up his bag with more force than was needed, swinging it up onto one arm and letting it hang there, wiping a hand over his face to calm his feelings before he turned back to you. “I was never anything but polite to you.”

“I know. But when you first asked me out, you said nobody thought you could ‘get me’. You made me sound like a prize to be won, like a notch on your belt. Do you have any idea how many guys try to ‘get me’ just to prove that they can?”

He shuffled from foot to foot, glancing around at the few pairs of eyes that had landed on you all, before a sigh on his lips helped him from his next words. “I didn’t want that, I never did. I just wanted to go to the dance with you.”

“Do you like me?”

“What?”

“Do you like me? In a real way, not a popularity-boost, make it a game, prove to people who looked down on your way.” You were vulnerable as you looked up at him, eyes wide and expression flickering every so often as you tried to appear strong, and his head tipped to the side before he could stop it, a small smile on his lips as he let his eyes scan over you, before he was looping a couple of his fingers loosely with your own.

“I really do, for a while now, actually.” Heat crawled up his cheeks at the confession, but you were giving him a grin wider than the sun, holding onto his hand a little more tightly, weaving your fingers through his until your palms were pressed tightly to one another.

“Do you want to go on a date, then? A real date. Like, to a restaurant or mini-golf, or something.”

He used his other hands to tuck some loose hair behind your ear, risking taking a step closer to you, until you were forced or look up at him as he stepped into your space, only having to whisper as he spoke to you now, the conversation only for the two of you to hear. “I would love that.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Cool.” His own smile finally matched your own, feeling his heartbeat steadily in his chest as you seemed to relax before him, your defensive stance slipping away, and for a second, you weren’t the popular girl that had always seemed out of his league and too scary to talk to, but right now you were just the pretty girl that he had a connection with like no other. “Can I kiss you in front of other people?”

“I’d really like it if you did.”

His other hand settled itself over your cheek, pulling your lips up to meet his so that he could press his mouth to yours in a sweet connection. It was nothing like the previous night had been. Last night was rushed and sloppy and just a preemptive action towards what the night had become. There was no ulterior motive or further action to be taken now, though. Instead, it was simply a brush of lips, it was the only thing either of you needed, it was an act of reassurance in order to make sure the spark between you wasn’t being ignored.

Your other hand threaded into his hair, your body pressing to his as you pushed up on your tiptoes, being sure he wasn’t pulling away or moving from you, and he let his arm drop to wrap around your waist to support you, to keep your body pressed flush to his your thumbs played together and smoothed over one another’s knuckles with the hands that were still connected. Your lips teased his, the occasional flick of a tongue through the smiles but never enough to go any further, and you were refusing to pull away, until the burn for oxygen was just too much to ignore.

Your forehead pressed or his, a satisfied and happy noise sounding in the back of your throat as you bumped your nose against his, and he let out a breathless laugh, bumping his nose against yours in return, a grin forming on your lips at the gesture. When you finally sunk back down to your height and were no longer balancing on your tiptoes, he was able to press a kiss to your forehead, before your hand was pulling from his to loop around his waist, letting you snuggle into his chest and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“I really like you, Dave Hodgman.’

“I really like you, too.”

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indestinatus · 4 years

Text

smoke gets in your eyes

for my dear friend @ocheabutter who supports me in everything i do <3 ly mel

°°°

It couldn’t be that hard.

Tony looked once again in the mirror and his reflection laughed at his face. He shook his head, the bags under his eyes now part of his persona as he tried to pull all his life together, one obstacle after the other.

He asked for the millionth time that day if he was ever going to learn how to be a proper father.

Tali was biting the handle of a bright new hairbrush he had just purchased that afternoon. Her big doll-like dark brown eyes studied him with interest as if she too knew he hadn’t the faintest idea what he was doing.

He scoffed. That reminded of someone he knew.

Tali sat on top of the sink countertop in front of him babbling words he couldn’t understand, and his eyes drifted momentarily to the shampoo and conditioner flasks next to her. He had done what everyone had recommended, from Jimmy’s advice on which brand to use to McGee’s insights in how to convince a toddler to have their hair washed to even calling Abby asking for any bit of help.

Somehow he always ended messing something up, from buying clothes to types of baby food to ways of teaching her English, and many other things. There was no way this wouldn’t be the same, with Tali’s curls looking too entangled from where he was standing, imagine after he so clumsily made her blind as shampoo burned her eyelids.

He blinked, probably knowing he was taking it too far.

To his credit though, Tony had to turn from a no one to a single dad of a little human in mere hours, with no warning, no preparation and absolutely zero skills with children.

He sighed, knowing there was no other way.

That child needed a bath, and she needed it badly.

Tali didn’t mind him taking her clothes off, nor being carried to the small bathtub sitting at the shower floor. Tony had rolled up his sleeves and tested the water temperature almost ten times already, but he sighed in relief all the same as Tali only giggled once she was inside the bath.

First step complete.

He opened the shampoo bottle, smelling its scent for a moment and wondering when was the last time he had taken care of his own hair like that. Probably never.

“Hmmm,” he said, then immediately cursed in his mind. That was shampoo, it wasn’t food she needed to think it was delicious. Teaching a child to drink shampoo is not the best way to go, he thought.

He put some in his palm and rubbed them together, only to remember he had to rinse her hair first. After a deep breath and a series of self-doubting thoughts, the game started again and lukewarm water was being cupped by his hand and almost too gently poured onto Tali’s head.

There was no reaction. He frowned. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

He slowly started massaging her scalp with shampoo, bubbles appearing with foam. Tali kept singing in a language he understood nothing of but was glad she was being distracted. He had no idea if he had done a good job, but soon enough he had just rinsed the shampoo off twice and was ready to pour some conditioner.

A smile crept out in Tony’s mouth. This was going better than he thought, the warm feeling of pride spreading across his chest.

Then he gently grabbed the brush by its bristles from where Tali was bitting it and in an instant, it all went downhill.

Her face contorted almost instantly to sadness, tears already streaming down her cheeks as Tony tried his best not to let her hear his cursing. He quickly let her bite the hairbrush handle again, and sighed in relief when that was able to calm her down, at least for now.

Then he realized he would need another brush.

°°°

“I like to wash my hair, wash wash wash my hair,” she sang as he made her lean under the tap, holding her in place. “Bubbly, bubbly, bubbly,” Tali repeated.

“How does Rapunzel say?”

She started singing the main song from the movie, the one he knew was her favorite and she was going to repeat it many times. Enough times to let him do his job.

Soon her hair was spiked up, foam covering his hands as Tali only giggled at the funny faces he was pulling, falling back to singing right after.

“What does shampoo mean?”

“Shampoo it means uh-” Tony tried to think of a good answer. “It’s like soap that cleans your hair.”

“Ooh, I forgot.”

He started massaging her scalp under the tap, cleaning the bubbles away.

“It feels good,” said Tali, closing her eyes.

“I bet it does,” he smiled. “Abba is a master of it, isn’t he?”

“Hmm-mm.”

Soon it was time of conditioner and disentangling, and he swiftly put Tali to sit onto the sink countertop again in order to brush her curls properly. Tony grabbed the bottle to pour some in his hand and she held her own little hands out, demanding to let her have some too.

“In my hand!”

“This is not for your hand,” he said laughing. “This is not lotion. It’s like shampoo but it’s called conditioner.”

“May I have conditioner?”

“Uh, how does Elsa say?” He was going to run out of princesses to use, but if he had any luck she would soon forget it and start singing the songs all over again.

To no surprise, she was soon humming another one of her favorites, distracted enough that he started to untangle her curls without much problem.

Everything was fine and today was a great day. Tony smiled.

Then the song changed.

Tali started singing it quietly at first, a jumble of words muttered under her breath. He laughed, asking her what new song she had come up with.

Then his heart died in his throat.

She was singing in Hebrew.

His hand stopped midair but Tali continued to sing, eyes not directed at him but rather at the Barbie on her hands. Tony caught a few words with his limited knowledge, but the meaning was too vague for him to truly understand it. His heart was beating too fast for him to think properly.

Ziva, Ziva, Ziva, was all that was ringing in his mind.

Tali stopped singing once she looked at him.

“Did it get it in your eyes, Daddy?” she asked concerned, patting her own eyes with the towel that was around her shoulders instead, as if it would also help him. “It hurts?”

Tony quickly wiped his teary eyes. “No, no, nothing hurts,” he said.

It was a lie.

She studied him for a second but soon was singing again as if nothing had happened. The song wasn't in Hebrew anymore. Tony cleaned his throat.

“Tali,” he said, and she looked up at him again. “Tali, who taught you that song?”

Her forehead furrowed, but she spoke all the same. “Song?”

“The one you were just singing.”

She was a smart girl, maybe she could tell him something. Something, anything about her memories of her. Tony had been desperate to know what her life had been before him maybe since the day he met her.

The despair must have shown in his eyes because Tali was soon shaking her head with worry in her face.

“I don’t know,” she said.

His heart sank once again.

“It’s- It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry about it,” he kissed her hairline and felt her relax under his touch. It wasn’t her fault. Nothing was her fault. Nothing of it.

Soon Tali was singing Disney songs again while Tony disentangled her hair the same way he did almost every day. He asked her what movie they should watch and she answered the same one they’ve been watching for the whole week. Everything went back to normal.

He spent the whole night thinking about that song though.

For some reason, he was sure it had her hand in it.

°°°

“One-two-three, UP.”

Tali giggled as she was lifted up in the air to sit on top of the sink countertop. It was morning. The smell of lavender insensed the bathroom, vapor covering the mirror and making everything warm.

Tali turned to it, drawing a ‘T’ next to a heart. She giggled, her eyes bright.

A moment after, another hand placed a 'Z' just next to it.

Ziva laughed as well, the sound of their laughter echoing all around the bathroom. She opened the door to let the air in and grabbed a fresh towel to put around Tali’s shoulders.

“Daddy said we would make pizza today,” she said with a big gap-toothed smile.

“Did he now?” Ziva started drying her hair with another towel, rubbing her head until Tali was all giggles and laughter.

“Do you think he can beat my bread with his pizza?”

“No,” said Tali giggling, then covered her mouth as if it was a secret, but the smile was still very visible behind it.

“Hmm, maybe he can surprise us.”

Ziva started untangling her hair, a brush swiftly undoing Tali’s curls that were a match to her own.

Tony leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head as his throat started to close.

Ziva was singing. She was muttering the melody under her breath, Tali smiling at her.

It was in Hebrew.

It almost undid him.

Tony didn’t even feel the time passing, for a moment he was watching her and the other Tali was already dressed, running between his legs. Time had a different feeling to him now, as if they suddenly had too much of it. Past and present seemed to overlap more often than not.

“Are you alright?” asked Ziva frowning as she placed her hand on his chest.

He wondered if she could feel his heartbeat pounding inside.

Tony pulled her close, kissing her hairline. Smoke clouded his vision.

“I love you,” he said.

Ziva laughed, it was something he said all the time and they both knew that.

“Why do you say it at most random things? Is it not something to be cherished? To be guarded for special moments?” she asked, looking up, her hands circling his body.

“Oh, Dah-veed,” Tony shook his head, pulling her even closer as he replied in her hair. “Prepare to hear it for the rest of your life.”

#ncis #tiva #tivali #tiva fanfiction #tivali fanfiction #tiva fics #my fics #it's miss them hour #don't mind me crying over the progression of things #anyway thought of you while writing this mel #really hope you like it <3

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ghostofbrock · 4 years

Text

venomous words

on a rainy afternoon in new jersey, the kids didn't have an option to go outside or not since they knew how strict their mother was on days like this and how their father would react if he saw mud tracked into the house. they'd be toast with the chancla.

so ellie played with her barbie dolls on the carpet in the living room floor with a small smile on her face, giovanni sat on the couch and watched over his baby sister while trying to look for something to watch in netflix, specifically a movie. luke and auggie were upstairs in their room playing whatever the newer generation was into. the two boys were in sweats that had crumbs on them since the boys were munching on potato chips as they played their game. their mother had just arrived from long and stressful day at work, she sat in her car for a minute or two to collect herself before entering her home where her babies and husband would be waiting for arrival. well maybe just her babies... once again.

she covered herself with her purple umbrella since it was pouring rain as she got out her car, closed the door and locked it before walking to her front porch that wrapped around the house. she closed her umbrella as soon as she was covered by the porch's roof. she grabbed her house key out of her pocket and opened her door.

"mom's home!"

she hasn't stepped foot into her home and she was already called out by her kids. luke and auggie jumped out their beds and ran downstairs as soon as they heard their older brother yell. ellie dropped her doll and skipped over to her mommy as gio stood up from the couch and walked over to her.

as sara closed the door behind her and turned around, she was attacked by hugs all over her body. from her thighs to her shoulders, her children had her trapped in a loving hug.

after she kissed them each and asked about how their day went, they went back to what they were doing before she came home. later they were expecting a home cooked meal that she always provided for them since mattia rarely cooked for them nowadays and sara didn't like having her kids eating fast food all the time either for their health. at times it was acceptable but if they didn't need to eat it then they wouldn't.

sara was now sitting at the island that was in the kitchen, she opened the bottled water she grabbed from the fridge and took a sip.

"how was work?" her oldest son's voice came from behind her. he walked from behind her to next to her and leaned against the marble island. "stressful. overwhelming. busy. i don't know how i'm gonna do it..." she rubs her temples with a groan. "don't over work yourself, ma. you got this, you always do." gio rubs his moms shoulder softly and flashed her a smile. a smile that made her feel better and made her smile.

"i know it's just that i wanna do as much as i can for this project. i've worked my ass off for years for this to finally happen and i'm so close. only a few more months of ridiculous amount of stress then i'll have my own clothing line." a weak smile formed on her lips, gio's heart swells at the sight. he knows how much his mom has been wanting this but he also knows how much she can overwork herself.

"isn't dad helping you with any of it? he said he would, right?" gio asked with his mother with hope as she took another sip of her water. "uh yeah. he is but there's certain things he can't help with." she gave her son a tight smile laced with lies.

truth is mattia hadn't even talked to sara about her huge project that she has been working on for over a year now. he thinks his wife can do it herself because of how strong she is but little did he know how weak she was getting from handling everything by herself. she was never the one to ask for help but this time she did ask for help from her husband but his answer?

"you're being dramatic"

so she never asked again and instead asked her close friends who were of course open to help with anything she needed. she knew that the kids had brought up the project while they talked to mattia recently either at dinner or something similar. and being the good father mattia is he had to lie because he knew if his kids found out their parents weren't helping each other out then they'd question why and jump to conclusions which leads to arguments and picking "sides".

"oh yeah. i've been helping her with scheduling everything and keeping the tabloids updated. she's not as stress thanks to me."

sara would just simply nod and give a small nod to the kids and glare at mattia who just rolled his eyes at her.

"like what?" gio asked. "it's personal business stuff, g. don't worry about it, okay? i'll be fine. but did your dad take you guys out for breakfast like he said he would?" she changed the subject with a smile.

gio avoided eye contact with her which she automatically meant no.

"h-he just forgot. that's all." he stuttered a bit. sara tried to remain as calm as she could. she didn't want to lash out in front of her baby and took a mental note to talk to mattia tonight about not taking the kids out for breakfast.

"you don't have to lie to me, ya know? i won't get mad at him." she sighed and gave her son a reassuring look. "when i woke up this morning he wasn't here. he sent me a text as well saying that something came up and he had to go meet up with his manager for a gig." he simply explains. "so i made breakfast for us instead and lunch too. he sent us money for post mates but i was just mad-" he stopped himself from venting to his mother about his father.

"i didn't use the money. that's all." he shrugs as sara looks at him with sympathy.

"he promised me that he'd try hard for us. to try being more involved... why would he lie?" gio claps his hands together. "sometimes work gets in the way of things, honey. trust me if he could clear his schedule for a whole week just to be with us he would, okay?" the fact that sara was defending mattia wasn't something she wanted to do.

she had to because she didn't want her son to think bad about his own father, she was trying to protect at least both of them.

after their little conversation sara made dinner while the kids were being entertained by the activities they were doing before she got home. as sara looked over at the clock, she sighed.

it was seven o' clock and mattia still wasn't home. usually he'd send his wife a text saying that he was going to be home late but when sara checked her phone she had no new messages. the kids were now sitting at the table with their mother. she sneaked a quick text to mattia before eating with her babies.

sara: are you on your way yet?

she got no response after she sent it. she called twice and still nothing. she was beyond livid at this point. first, he didn't take the kids out for the day, then he doesn't respond to her text or calls her back? this was the third time this month that this occurred. she didn't show it but she was pissed off at dinner and while she tucked this kids into bed.

"is daddy gonna tuck me in too?" ellie asked as she held onto her stuffed giraffe. "yes, baby. of course. when he gets home i'll tell him to come and give you a kiss, okay?" sara's soft voice said as she placed a strand of hair behind her ear. ellie simply smiled at her mother.

"goodnight, angel. te amo." sara kisses ellie's nose. "buenas noches, mommy. te amo mas." the two giggled. once sara finishes tucking in her kids, she goes to her bathroom to take a shower. she then changed into some house shorts and one of mattia's shirts that fit her like a dress.

she went to the living room and ate ice cream as she watched good girls. without even knowing it, she fell asleep on the couch. she was woken up by someone whispering her name softly and rubbing her cheek gently with their palm.

she opened her eyes to see mattia with a smile. oh how much she wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his stupid face.

"did you make dinner?" he questions her. "yeah. we ate already so i put your plate in the fridge. now if you excuse me i'm going to bed." she was too tired to deal with him right now. she would have to be up bright and early tomorrow for meetings and such so she just didn't want to argue with her husband right now.

she got up from the couch and tried walking away but mattia reached out for her hand to stop her.

"you guys didn't wait for me? what happened to family dinners?" he asks with a pout as he held her hand. she quickly glanced at the clock on the wall for a time check.

2:34 a.m.

"i was not gonna wait till now to eat with you and neither were the kids, mattia. family dinners means that everyone has to be here at reasonable times." she sighs and glares at him. "where were you anyways, mattia? it's past midnight and you barely got home." she questions quickly and changed the subject.

"i was out. it's not a big deal, babe." he scoffs at her.

"not a big deal? if it's not a big deal then why can't you tell me where you were?" she remarked quickly and crossed her arms over her chest.

mattia gives her a look, as if she was crazy or something. all she wanted to know was where he was at, what was so hard about that?

he started walking to the kitchen, sara quickly followed him.

"sara, i've had a long day. please don't start with me right now..." he huffs as he opens the fridge and grabs his plate of cold food. "says the guy who comes home late smelling like alcohol and cigarettes." she looks at him from across the island.

"i didn't do shit! all i did was go to a bar with alejandro and alvaro after i finished my meetings. they drank but i didn't because i knew you'd react like this and treat me like some kid!" he was getting frustrated with her at this point, he showed it by banging his fist on the island. his breath reeked of alcohol so she was even more pissed off that he was lying to her about drinking.

"all i wanted to do was come home to my wife and kids. a nice home cooked meal and after the kids go to bed and we all settle down, maybe some good sex with my wife but i can't have that can't i? ever since you've gotten this attitude all you ever do is complain! you're on bitch mood twenty four seven, sara!" he was now raising his voice at her.

sara had no energy to argue with him right now. literally nothing left. she had a long day, she just wanted to sleep. she looked at him with tired eyes, she scanned his facial expression and saw the anger he always had all of a sudden now. right now she ignored it and walked away, but he didn't let her.

"where the fuck are you going?" he turned her around a little bit too rough. "to bed, mattia! i'm too tired to deal with your bullshit right now." she stated as she tried not to yell at him.

"whatever. go ahead, walk away. that's all you're good at since you can't do anything right. you definitely can't be a good wife." his words felt like knives. she felt like her heart was getting stabbed completely, over and over again.

she walked off, pretending that what he just said didn't phase her and went upstairs quietly so she wouldn't wake the kids.

little did she know, gio was hiding behind a pillar near the stairs where he heard everything.

she went to the room which she shared with her "husband" and jumped into bed. she laid in bed for a minute, thinking about what mattia said. his words repeating in her head like that one song that could never get out of your head.

"you definitely can't be a good wife."

those venomous words scared her pretty much. she couldn't believe he said that... why would he say that? was she really not a good wife? what was she doing that made her so horrible to him? was it the kisses? was it her cooking? was it her looks? was it the sex? the constant need of having him around? what was it?

whatever it was made her feel like she wasn't good enough which was not the case.

sara was always good enough.

she cried herself to sleep that night. and hours later she felt his presence next to her body, his arms wrapped around her keeping her warm but it didn't make her feel loved like it usually did. no, she had a different feeling. she felt like she was in bed with a stranger. why was she feeling this way? shouldn't she be happy that he was still willing to sleep in the same bed with her?

all the questions she thought of made her feel more insecure, not about herself but about her marriage with the man she loved so much. the last thing she wanted was to lose him, it would ruin her.

she hopes for an apology of some sort. perhaps a date to make it up, she'd be willing to forgive him. she knows he lied about not drinking, mattia could never say no to not have a beer or three with the boys. he wasn't thinking straight, she knows her husband too well.

he just didn't want to admit that he was drinking because he didn't want to feel more guilt than he was already feeling since he missed out on dinner.

so the next morning she was woken up by the smell of pancakes and bacon. she went downstairs and saw gio and mattia cooking at the stove, auggie and ellie coloring on the table while luke looked sleep deprived as he walked into the kitchen with his mom.

"morning, amor." mattia walks over to her holding a plate of stacked pancakes with all the works. he bends down a bit to kiss her oh so sweetly, they both smile into the kiss. "i handled everything you needed to do today so we can all spend quality family time and to start off the day i thought of making breakfast." he hands her the plate where she takes it and sits at the table. once everyone is served the all began to eat.

"you have to cook more, pop. these smack!" auggie speaks as he licks his lips. "maybe i will." mattia laughs as he looks over at his son. "how'd you sleep, ma?" gio asked simply. the way he asked her sounded like he knew something (which he did since he heard what his father told his mom last night) but no one thought too much of it.

"good, baby." she lied with a smile. gio could tell that she was lying but he wasn't going to confront her about eavesdropping on her and mattia.

they all ate breakfast in peace and with joy. gio couldn't stop looking at his mom and dad. especially, his mom since she seemed so happy. didn't mattia's drunk words hurt her? was she really pretending that nothing happened between her and her husband? he couldn't believe she was still protecting mattia after what he told her.

"what's up with you?" luke nudges his older brother's elbow slightly. "what?" was gio's response. "you keep on staring at mom. i get that she's beautiful but it's starting to look weird now. quit it." luke let out a dry chuckle after he spoke.

gio just rolled his eyes and finished his breakfast. once the family finished eating they were told to get ready for a day out. mattia said that he'd be taking them out to the carnival since it happened to be in town.

"hey, can we talk?" mattia closed the door behind him as he walked into his bedroom. sara was sitting at her vanity deciding what necklace to wear that she had in her jewelry box.

"yeah, what's up?" she nods and turns her body to face him. he sits in the edge of their bed as she sat across from him in her spinning stool.

"first off, i want to apologize for last night. i know i should've gave you a heads up about dinner and coming home late. yes, i did drink and i didn't mean any of what i said. i was drunk and stupid. i'm sorry, mamas." he gave a look filled with guilt and he really didn't mean those things that he told her last night.

"tia... i accept your apology, okay? you just had me worried because you weren't texting or calling me back. and i just had a stressful day overall yesterday." she sighed. "i know, baby. you shouldn't be overworking yourself either. i also took the liberty of organizing all of your meetings and handling the little things for your project. i know you've wanted this for the longest time and i hate to see you so worrisome about the little things, babe. i wanted to help you." he explains which made her heart feel a certain way. only he was able to give her that feeling as crazy as it sounds.

"i really do have the best husband in the world, huh?" she giggles. "and i have the best wife ever. being all sexy and shit." he winks at her which makes her blush.

"come give me a kiss." he adds and she obeys. she gets up from her chair and straddles mattia's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and plays with his hair. she dips her head down, he catches her lips with his own. the kiss was soft and sweet, all of their worries seemed to wash away. almost as if all their problems went away as well... boy were they in for it.

#mattia polibio #writing #shorts #bookish #aesthetic #camila mendes #home #new jersey #tiktok #tik tok boys #kairi #alejandro #spaces!mattia

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artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

Twist Of Fate - Ch04 - (Trixya) - katyahzamo

A/N: Trixie and Katya are finally reunited. All future chapters will take place in the present, unless indicated otherwise. What’s going to happen next?

A reminder: Trixie is a hairdresser and Katya is a struggling photographer slash yoga instructor. Lesbian AU. Read the chapters on AO3 and/or come hang out on my tumblr katyahzamo!

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Katya hears herself laugh, but her eyes look for tiny changes in Trixie’s appearance, and the longer she looks the more she sees. She’s as tall as ever, slightly towering over Katya, but the dress, taut and pink, hugs her body differently. Trixie’s lost a bit of weight, her waist much smaller than the last time Katya has seen her, but her curves are still there, hips wide and thighs strong enough to break Katya’s neck if they so wished, shaping her into a perfect hourglass figure. Barbie who?

July 2018

Trixie is right there, and Katya is already on her feet, realizing she looks like a dumbass with her wet hair, lipstick smudged but not as bad as her glasses, the towel previously around her shoulders discarded on the floor somewhere. She feels like the kid who got caught red-handed, though she is not sure what exactly she feels startled about.

The soft look on Trixie’s face makes it worse, and now Katya is sure that she has stepped into a time machine that took her back to 2016.

“You look terrible.”

Trixie is the one who speaks again, expert at re-routing Katya’s overworked brain, hauling her thoughts back into present, making her terribly self-conscious of how much of a mess she looks like.

“Thanks, it’s the new look I’m trying. Hobo chic.”

A pair of arms finds her bony shoulders and pulls her into a hug, and Katya can’t remember the last time she felt this stupefied. The closest thing was the night Sharon told her she’s moving out, and even then Katya’s limbs worked properly, pacing around their tiny apartment with an unlit cigarette in her hands, trying to fix the shitstorm their relationship has become at that point in time. It didn’t really help. Obviously.

Thankfully it seems that her body has a mind of its own and reacts instinctively, because she is hugging Trixie back, holding her tightly for two long moments.

“You’re wearing glasses.”

It’s a statement, not a question, which comes from Trixie once they pull back. Katya’s still holding onto Trixie’s hand that she squeezes before letting go.

“Old age finally caught up to me. I’m almost as blind as a bat now.”

“Fitting, because you definitely look like one.”

Katya hears herself laugh, but her eyes look for tiny changes in Trixie’s appearance, and the longer she looks the more she sees. She’s as tall as ever, slightly towering over Katya, but the dress, taut and pink, hugs her body differently. Trixie’s lost a bit of weight, her waist much smaller than the last time Katya has seen her, but her curves are still there, hips wide and thighs strong enough to break Katya’s neck if they so wished, shaping her into a perfect hourglass figure. Barbie who?

Katya’s staring, pale blue eyes flitting over from Trixie’s hips to her face, softer makeup and round cheeks that seemed to have lost some of their youthful chubbiness.

She’s as beautiful as ever.

“You look amazing.” Katya says, and Kim snorts from behind them, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t watching this exchange carefully. Trixie rolls her eyes at the sound, but the smile doesn’t disappear when she speaks again.

“Thanks. I give myself two weeks in Boston before I’m back to being the white American trash.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you never stopped being one.” Kim chirps and Trixie shoots her another look through her laughter before motioning to the chair where Katya was sitting.

Latrice is quick to suggest Trixie cuts Katya’s hair soon after, and it’s not long before Katya’s in front of the mirror again, eyes glued to Trixie. Luckily enough the other girls seem to have returned to their work, though the blonde one, Brianna, still throws curious glances their way, making Katya think she knows something that even Katya doesn’t. Either that, or Katya’s overthinking it again, which is a more likely scenario.

“When did you come back?” She’s happy that her voice is back to its usual, raspy self, feeling comfortable as soon as Trixie’s fingers start combing through her wet hair, studying it like a sculptor was to examine a piece she hasn’t worked on in a long time.

“Oh just last week. I barely had time to look for an apartment, and I feel like Kim’s about to throw me out from her couch if I don’t get moving soon.”

“Wait… so you’re staying? For good?”

Katya must have a hopeful look on her face because Trixie is grinning at her in the mirror, smoothing out blonde strands down Katya’s front after she’s taken off the glasses that rest in Katya’s fidgeting fingers.

“Oh yeah, I’ve had enough of Europe.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” She says, shrugging, both hands stopping on Katya’s shoulders, feeling warm even through the cape and the towel, burning Katya’s skin, “It was either leaving Germany for another European country, or returning here. None of the cities I visited felt like home enough so I figured coming back would be best, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I get that.”

“And I learned some cool stuff over there, so bringing it here makes my work more unique. If I stayed there, I’ve been doing the same thing everyone else does. Here- not so much.”

“So you came back to be a fancy European hairdresser in the middle of Boston.”

“Basically, yes.”

They both laugh and Katya closes her eyes when Trixie’s fingers find her scalp, splitting her hair down the middle.

“You grew out your bangs.” Trixie says, and only then do her eyes open again.

“Yeah, they didn’t know how to cut them the way you did so this was easier.”

“I told you not to go to Tammie before I left, Katya.”

“I didn’t come here actually, I cut my hair closer to where I work.”

“So Kim wasn’t joking when she said you haven’t been here since I left?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Trixie digs through the drawer for a pair of scissors like Katya has seen her do a million times before, and smiles to herself.

“Do you want me to cut them again?”

“Yes, make me look like that Atomic Bland Charlize Theron fantasy.”

Trixie’s shrieking laughter is louder than Katya remembers it, and it makes her laugh just as much as it always did.

“Okay Katya, one Atomic Bland haircut coming right up.”

Katya stays around the salon even after her hair is done, since apparently Trixie isn’t back working at the Honey just yet, and officially starts Monday. It gives them time to go outside once the storm has passed, Katya smoking a cigarette and Trixie scrunching her nose at the smell.

“Anything new happening in Boston?”

A cloud of smoke puffs through Katya’s nostrils and she looks over at Trixie who’s leaned on the wall, watching her.

“No, not really. I don’t go out much, between yoga classes and working on my new portfolio, I barely have time for socializing.”

“Is Violet still around?”

“Oh yeah, she’s working at a modeling agency up north. She’s the one I bother when I need new portraits, and you know how much Violet loves having her photos taken.”

Trixie nods, and checks the phone that buzzes twice. Whatever it is on there, it makes her smile and suddenly Katya’s curious. It doesn’t last long because Trixie’s eyes are on her again, head tilted.

“So you’re finally chasing your photography dreams?”

“Yeah, figured now’s the good as time as any. I have a steady income from yoga and couple of photography gigs, so I started taking classes. I’m saving up for a new camera but I have to find a more affordable apartment now. Violet’s been offering we move in together, but I’ll see.”

The last sentence makes Trixie stand a bit straighter, and her teeth catch her bottom lip as if she’s deciding if it’s any of her business. Katya knows what the question is before Trixie can say it.

“What about Sharon?”

“Oh, that’s… we broke up. Six months ago.”

“Aw. I’m sorry, Katya.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s been a long time coming.”

Trixie still look sorry, and also looks like she’s about to reach out to touch Katya’s arm, but her phone buzzes and distracts her again. Katya says nothing but watches her instead, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“Anyway, there’s this club that my friend Craig works at, recently opened. Do you have any plans tonight? Maybe we can go, old times’ sake?”

Katya’s surprised how easily it comes out, even a little proud of herself. Her relationship with Sharon has destroyed her self-image, which she only became aware of months after break-up, and has to work on to this day. Ginger has suggested a therapist in those first couple of weeks, but Katya is yet to find a person she could open up to without feeling like crawling out of her skin.

“That sounds great Katya, but I can’t tonight.”

Oh.

“I already made plans with some of the people here, and Bob’s going to kill me if I don’t call him up while he’s here. Raincheck?”

There is no reason for disappointment that tugs at her insides, Katya thinks, so she’s nodding and stubbing out her cigarette, pushing her glasses up her nose and finally exhales, smiling.

“Raincheck.”

Her temporary apartment is maybe half the size of her and Sharon’s old one, but feels empty even with shelves full of books and boxes of old clothes Katya has no interest or time unpacking. It seems even emptier without Salem, the little cat they adopted from the shelter together. Sharon went to live with her parents and they both agreed the cat would have a more stable life living in one place with two other cats Sharon’s parents owned. It was definitely better than being left alone with Sharon traveling all the time and Katya too. Katya had every intention of traveling around the country and taking up photography jobs as soon as her class is done and she has saved up a little.

Traveling seems like a distant future now, when she hops into the shower, and wishes she at least had the cat to keep her company, instead of half-eaten Chinese on the coffee table in front of the TV and Netflix playing FRIENDS reruns for the umpteenth time.

It’s past nine pm when she’s done looking through and editing the latest photos she’s taken of Violet. She looks stunning and reminds her of Dita Von Teese just to the right extent, which was the ultimate goal during the photoshoot they had the week before. Katya plops down on the worn out couch and props her feet on the coffee table, flexing her sore thighs from the intense yoga workout that morning and sends her favorite shots to Violet for feedback.

She finds herself opening Tinder as she takes a sip of the flat coke left over from that morning, scrunching her nose at the aftertaste it leaves in her mouth, scrolling lazily through newest messages without opening any of them. Every girl that pops up on the app is swiped left, as Katya barely pays attention to how they look or what they’ve written. It seems as if she’s looking for something - someone, and she pauses for a few seconds over every blonde with thick long hair and big tits.

Would Trixie even have Tinder? Katya thinks as big IT’S A MATCH! flashes across her screen and she does absolutely nothing about. Trixie never talked about her love life in the first place, never mentioning any exes or her dating life. Katya knows she’s gay, but that’s about it. If Trixie found anyone in Germany – she wouldn’t have come back, would she? She didn’t mention anyone while cutting Katya’s hair or while standing with Katya outside of the salon while she smoked.

Why does Katya care if Trixie is single, anyway? It’s a thought that crosses her mind, but she doesn’t need to dig too deep to get the answer. She’s aware now, two years later, that she’s always had a small crush on her gorgeous, blonde hairdresser with the best sense of humor in the world. When she was with Sharon it was something she never wanted to admit to herself, but now… Her stomach flips at the possibility since Trixie is back. It’s probably just wishful thinking and boredom speaking, anyway.

Another message arrives on Tinder and she closes the app with a huff, opening Instagram instead. She has followed Trixie for a while now there, but aside from several landscape or animal photos from two years ago, she wasn’t on there at all. Twenty-seven notifications catch her attention and she thinks it’s probably people liking her latest headshot of Violet, and some of them are.

trixie.mattel liked your post

trixie.mattel, pin.up_dolls and 18 others started following you.

Katya blinks at the screen and notices that she is grinning, wondering how Trixie found her profile in the first place. She taps the username and finds that Trixie has a new profile, not the one that Katya was following, and this one is filled with photos from Trixie’s life in Europe. This Instagram is full of Berlin’s architecture, different foods, different faces of beautiful girls whose makeup and hair Trixie did, and only a handful of those with Trixie’s face. Katya finds out that Bob has visited Trixie in Berlin at least once, Tammie and Kim too, and suddenly wishes she could have done the same.

Her finger hovers over the Follow Back button only for a split second before she clicks it, then goes back to see that all the photos Trixie liked were not of Violet or any of the other models, but of Katya’s selfies, Salem and one of Katya by the pool, taken by Sharon over a year ago, standing in chakrasana pose.

Katya’s palms are sweaty when she closes instagram to breathe, then goes on Facebook to find three notifications:

Honey Salon tagged you in a post.

Violet Chachki, Ginger Minj and 75 other people reacted to a photo you are tagged in.

1 friend request: Trixie Mattel

The photo is of her new Atomic Bland haircut, taken by the new girl with blue-green hair (whose name Katya forgot) as soon as Trixie was done earlier today. It looks amazing. There are no comments under it, but that’s where Trixie must have found her. She accepts the friend request and scrolls through Trixie’s profile, the only post from the past two months a check in to Boston Logan Airport a week before. Her stomach makes several somersaults when she goes through Trixie’s profile photos, the latest one in front of the Berlin Wall taken in August 2017, and likes it before she can overthink.

Ding.

Katya feels butterflies explode in her stomach as she gets a Messenger notification and sees Trixie’s photo pop up. She immediately gets up, walks over to her small fridge, gets a new can of Coke, her spare pack of cigarettes, and sits next to the kitchen window so she can smoke. She is shit at texting, that much is sure. Would she and Trixie have things to talk about? Why is Trixie messaging her, didn’t she have plans tonight, why—

You and Trixie Mattel are now connected on Messenger. Wave to say hello!

Katya takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, then rubs her eyes and with a groan realizes she still has some eyeshadow and mascara residue from the day. She is definitely ready for bed, so she smokes quickly, Messenger still open when she stubs out the cigarette and closes the window so the AC can make the hot summer night a bit more bearable. Her finger slips while she brushes her teeth, and Katya stares at the little You waved at Trixie!, feeling like a teenage boy not knowing what to do about his first crush on the pretty girl from his class. Nothing happens even after she climbs gets into her queen sized bed, the only piece of furniture left from her and Sharon’s life. She tries to mentally will Trixie to do something, at least message her first but Trixie must be still out at this hour on a Saturday night.

Katya doesn’t know when she fell asleep, and the phone she held in her hand slipped and fell on the floor sometime during the night. She wakes up with a start some nine hours later, past 7:30am, woken up by the sunlight peeking through the heavy curtains. Her freshly cut short hair is sticking in all directions and clinging to her sweaty neck when she gets into the shower. It’s only halfway through her second cigarette and half a cup of coffee that she’s awake enough to remember what happened the night before. Fumbling through the discarded clothes on the floor, Katya pulls out her phone to find many instagram notifications and texts from Violet, before she opens Messenger with a little (1) next to Trixie’s photo.

You and Trixie waved at each other!

There are no notifications from Trixie for the rest of the Sunday, or the first half of the following week. Katya does nothing to message first, either, torn between being busy with photography classes, work, and worry that she’d make a complete ass of herself in front of Trixie. She has no idea how to flirt anymore, having been in a relationship for such a long time. All of her Tinder hookups did not involve a lot of talking, and Katya used it mostly to relieve the pent up frustration not even yoga or running could get out of her system. How young people get into relationships with only a set of emojis and snapchat exchanges these days, she has no idea. Even though she is only in her early 30s, Katya feels ancient.

It’s not like she doesn’t have the ability to flirt, either, since her and Trixie’s banter felt organic even when she was nervous around her, but Katya being Katya, is worried she’d get too overbearing too soon for Trixie. They are both different people than they were two years ago, so she has no idea if they would hit it off as well as they used to, when Katya was still taken and Trixie was leaving for another continent. Talk about bad timing.

The situation, though more simple now, is also complicated because what if Trixie turns her down and she is never able to step her foot into Honey again, after just getting her favorite hairdresser back? Or what if she doesn’t turn her down but then Katya is such a fuck up she disappoints Trixie, which would result in the same scenario of Katya having to find another place to cut her hair in again?

It’s a bit easier to focus on the present instead of ‘what ifs’ four days later while she’s sitting in a park several blocks away from her apartment on a warm Wednesday afternoon. She’s working on her photography Facebook and Instagram pages for homework, laptop balancing on her knees and Subway sandwich half-forgotten on the bench beside her. Her browser shows twenty-five tabs open and Katya can feel the sweat forming on her forehead despite the shade and the light breeze, wondering when the rainfall would start today and force her to go into one of the nearby cafés. It always got unbearably humid right before the storm, and every single day this week has been the same.

One of her tabs pings a facebook notification. Katya hopes it’s more people responding to her page invitation and she quickly pulls it up it to check. Instead of people liking her page, she’s gotten an invitation for an event happening in Boston that Friday. It’s from Trixie.

DJ PEARL LIAISON joins the lineup for the biggest LGBTQIA+ party in town! Bring your friends! All ticket proceedings will go to raising HIV awareness and fund housing of youth living with AIDS!

Trixie Mattel is going. Violet and 3 other friends are interested in this event.

Katya stares at her name and wonders whether this is a mass invitation Trixie has sent, or if it’s a personal thing, an attempt to connect with Katya without making it awkward? But Trixie isn’t awkward at all, Katya thinks, Trixie is always open and loud and says what she thinks. Katya’s not breathing as she opens the messenger app, deciding to do a second daring thing within seven days. Talk about living dangerously. She vehemently ignores the dumb ‘wave’ exchange and types before her overthinking mind can stop her.

Katya Zamolodchikova: Hey Tracy, ‘sup?

Katya Zamolodchikova: I saw the invitation you just sent

Katya Zamolodchikova: Are you going?

Okay, that wasn’t painful at all, Katya thinks as she hurriedly switches the tab and goes back to looking at designs she’d use for her business card. The messenger notification is instant, the little ding going off on her phone and browser at the same time.

Trixie Mattel: Katie! thought you’d never ask ;)

Katya watches the dots hopping in the chat window, painfully aware that Trixie is calling her out on this radio silence ever since they connected on social media.

Trixie Mattel: Yeah, a bunch of people I know are going :D :D :D

Trixie Mattel: Do you want to come? :)

The excess use of emojis makes Katya laugh, but she replies immediately.

Katya Zamolodchikova: Sure!

Trixie Mattel: Great, I saw Violet’s interested too, bring her along :D

Katya sighs, staring at the message. If Trixie wants her to bring a friend, this can’t be a date. But, why is she thinking about dates? For all she knows, Trixie is just being nice and is excited to be in contact with her again. As a friend. Maybe it’s better that Katya brings Violet, after all, since Trixie mentioned a bunch of people and Katya is anything but comfortable being in a group where she only knows one person.

Katya Zamolodchikova: Violet probably knows this entire lineup, so I’m sure she’ll go. We’ll be there.

Katya Zamolodchikova: :D :) :D

Trixie Mattel: Great! see you Friday, Zamo :* :* :*

Katya Zamolodchikova: See ya!

Katya Zamolodchikova : :*

Katya is about to log out of Facebook immediately, deciding it would be best to leave the pages for tomorrow, knowing she will not be able to focus fully on task at hand now. She’ll be seeing Trixie, again, in a casual setting after almost two years. There will be dancing, and drinks, and Violet will probably be busy with pretty girls flocking to her, so anything could happen. She feels her excitement beat against her ribcage, and when another notification comes, she can feel it in the tips of her fingers too.

Trixie Mattel: Btw, give me your number so we can find each other easily on Friday?

Trixie Mattel: We’ll be there around 11:00pm

As Katya sends her phone number to Trixie and packs her laptop and sandwich, she looks towards the dark clouds that are gathering and smiles. Things might be looking up after all.

#trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #trixya fic #katyahzamo #lesbian au #cisgirl au #slow burn #mutual pining #rpdr fanfiction #twist of fate

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justsomebucky · 7 years

Text

The Friendly Wager (Part 1)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,528

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, bad date, implied sexual situations (no smut)

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?” I think this will have at least seven parts, so Kait, please feel free to disregard it till it’s completed :)

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

“Y/N? Are you even listening to me?”

You glanced up, blinking slowly at the man sitting across the table from you. Your eyes felt like they’d been scraped with sandpaper, and you desperately wanted to leave. “No, I’m sorry?”

Your illustrious date for the evening, Alex, rolled his eyes. He was some sort of architect, so you figured he was droning on about buildings, but you weren’t too sure.

He pushed his glasses up his nose with a haughty expression. “I assumed as much. Should have known it’d be too deep for a first date.”

Great, you just loved it when men treated you with such condescension.

You took in his features. He was not that much taller than you, had deep green eyes, and brown hair that seemed too weighed down with product to ever move on its own again. He’d called you after a coworker of yours (the fun, flirty, happily married Wanda) slipped him your number. She’d decided to take you on as a pet project of hers.

‘Operation Get Y/N a Boyfriend,’ she had called it.

This whole date made you wonder if Wanda thought you were on the verge of joining a convent, or adopting six cats or something. Why the hell had she chosen this guy for you?

Your eyes narrowed and a new burst of energy filled your limbs.

You reached for your clutch and pushed your chair back to stand up. “If by deep you meant endless and insipid, then sure. Thank you for the free water, free breadsticks, and sudden urge to take a nap. I don’t think I’ve ever had a date where I didn’t even make it to the salad. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go clean my refrigerator or something.”

Alex rolled his eyes so hard you figured he lost a few brain cells in the process. “Good luck trying to find a husband with that attitude!”

You didn’t even respond, choosing instead to walk away. This Alex loser didn’t deserve a second more of your time and attention, and you certainly didn’t want him to see what you assumed was a hurt expression on your face.

The real shame was that his stupid words did hurt you. They hit a little too close to home.

As you weaved your way around tables and between chairs to the entrance of the expensive Italian restaurant, you didn’t meet a single stare, though you knew you must be causing at least a small scene, storming out this way.

It wasn’t always this way. You were usually super good at maintaining a steely-eyed expression in front of the people you dated, and you’d been on plenty of bad dates as practice. The stoic mask you wore had never failed you before.

No, it wasn’t until you were away from them that you let your guard down…let your real emotions show.

You hated your real emotions. You didn’t want them, didn’t want to face them, you didn’t want to feel them, so you shoved them down when you were in public as best you could.

This time, that douchebag’s words got to you, though, and you knew you needed support.

There was no shame in reaching out for support. The older you got, though, the more people seemed to drift away into their own lives. Jobs, spouses, kids, vacations, whatever it was that was taking all your friends away, you knew you wanted your own share of the fun.

Just not with Alex McDouchenozzle.

You reached for your cell phone and typed out a quick message to your best friend.

Are you free? Another disaster in the books.

Give me thirty minutes, came the response.

At least there was one person on this planet you could count on. You huffed as you pushed your way out the front door of the restaurant and onto the street, raising your hand to hail a cab. The chilly spring air sent a shiver down your spine, but soon a cab pulled to the curb and you were on your way home.

---

You trudged up the stairs to your second floor Brooklyn apartment, wondering which kind of bimbo you were going to pass in the halls this time.

As soon as you got to the landing, you smirked.

Your best friend and neighbor (though the neighbor part came first), Bucky Barnes, was standing in the doorway of his own apartment across the way, his hands currently cupping the backside of a short, stacked blonde woman who was giggling up at him. His eyes met yours over her head, and he returned your smirk.

“Will I see you again soon?” The woman wrapped her arms tighter around Bucky’s neck, her face moving closer as if she realized his attention had shifted. You hated when he brought home the clingy ones.

Ugh, even her voice made you cringe. It was all breathy, and you could almost picture her doe eyes blinking her long, fake lashes up at him. You broke your gaze from his and moved to open your door, slipping inside before hearing his answer, but leaving it unlocked.

After you unceremoniously dropped your clutch on the kitchen counter, you kicked off your heels and headed straight for the fridge to pour yourself a glass of wine. You sipped the sweet red beverage slowly, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm down and forget about Alex McDouchenozzle.

Your eyes popped back open when you heard your door open and close about ten seconds later. In true Bucky fashion, he wandered into your apartment and made himself comfortable on your couch, sporting lipstick all over his mouth and an oddly-shaped hickey on his throat. “So what happened this time?”

“Want some wine?”

“No thanks. Just wanna know how you managed to scare off suitor number…what are you up to? I lost count.”

“Hilarious.” You made a face as you took your wine glass over to the opposite end of the couch and practically melted into the cushions. You scooted so your legs were over his lap, and he began to massage your right foot gently. “For your information, this was only my second date this week.”

Bucky eyed you, a little bit of surprise in his blue eyes. “Only two? You’re slipping, Y/N.”

“And you’re predictable,” you shot back, trying not to groan when his hand moved to your left foot. You don’t know how he did it, but he was really good at foot rubs. “Tiny, giggling bombshell? Haven’t you had your fill?”

“No, but she did,” he quipped, laughing at your horrified expression. “Twice in fact. Once in the shower right before you got here. Wanna hear the details?”

“No, thank you.” You let out a sigh, reaching to set your wine glass on the coffee table, then leaned your head back on the armrest of the couch. “I bet her name was Bambi or Barbie or –“

“Not even close. Her name, if you must know, was Becky. What about your date? What was he like?”

“Who, boring-as-hell Alex with the superiority complex?” You closed your eyes. “I don’t want to talk about him ever again. I don’t know what Wanda was thinking, setting me up with the world’s worst storyteller.”

“At this point, I think all your friends and coworkers are just throwing people out there with a wing and a prayer, Y/N.”

“So funny, James. At least I want a real relationship. I want to find the elusive one person I belong with. You just seem to be content having more women in your rotation than the Yankees have pennants.”

He shook his head, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Beauty, brains, and baseball? I don’t know how this guy let you go.”

“If you aren’t here to make me feel better, then you should just go in your room and stare at yourself in the mirror, or whatever it is you pretty boys do.”

Bucky hummed at you. “If you’re back this early, you clearly haven’t eaten yet. Want me to make you something?”

That was the thing about having a sous-chef for a neighbor. He was always willing to whip something up quickly, and it always seemed like it was something that should take four hours. He always used his cooking skills to his advantage. Your stomach rumbled in response, and he frowned when he heard it.

“Let me guess, you didn’t make it past the salad? You sound famished.”

“Have you eaten?” you asked. You didn’t want to be the only one pigging out this late.

His wolfish grin returned. “Yes, tw-“

“Twice, including once in the shower, yeah yeah. Pervert.” You pointed at the kitchen. “Go make me some food, but thoroughly wash your hands first.”

You lifted your legs just high enough for him to slip off the couch.

“What do you want?” he asked, shuffling toward your small kitchen that held your meager ingredients and food supply.

“Surprise me.” The remote wasn’t close enough, so you begrudgingly sat up and reached for it. “What should we watch this time?”

“I got to pick last time.” His voice was muffled while he rifled through the refrigerator. “You pick.”

“How about The Force Awakens?”

“That’s fine. By the way, you really need to clean this thing. It’s truly disgusting.”

You couldn’t help but snicker.

---

Both of you were completely enraptured as you watched Rey lean over and kiss Finn’s forehead lovingly. She’d just managed to help save the day, along with some of the other characters, of course. Rey was such a badass.

“She’s hot,” Bucky commented casually. “She’s definitely a ten.”

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him. He was so lucky he’d just made you the best grilled cheese you ever had.

Yes, a sous-chef made you grilled cheese. You couldn’t help it if bread and cheese were about all you had in stock.

Back to the matter at hand. “No way would you ever give her a second look. No way.”

His blue eyes glared at you. “Yes I would, she’s super hot! And she can wield a lightsaber. That makes her even hotter.”

“If you passed her on the street, looking plain as she did on Jakku, having had no shaving regimen, no way would you hit on her.”

“I would too,” he insisted, hands splayed on his lap. “A hot, sweaty, sand-covered space babe with skills? Hell yes.”

You scoffed, looking back at the screen. Rey was now piloting the Millennium Falcon with such ease, you were jealous. Feh. “No. You would have hit on that bitch who told on BB-8 at Maz’s cantina! Just your type, evil with tight clothes and heavy makeup!”

“You are so wrong. I’ve dated plenty of girls who didn’t wear tight clothes and lots of makeup. And none of them were evil!”

“Name one. A recent one.” You looked back at him, trying not to laugh as his eyes looked up at the ceiling as if trying to recall.

He looked back at you. “Camilla…”

“…Was a Rockette! She most definitely does not count!”

“All right, all right,” he relented finally. “Maybe I haven’t recently. That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You frowned at the TV when you saw the end credits roll. You completely missed Rey finding Luke on the island.

Bucky stood up and reached for your empty plates while you shut off the TV. “You’re on. If I find a date who’s plain or whatever, and give her a chance, will you get off my back?”

“At least one date with a normal woman, the whole way through, no sex. Just a nice dinner, where you treat her well. Think you can accomplish that?”

“Fine,” Bucky agreed, eyes meeting yours as you stood up in front of him. “But then you have to date someone who isn’t like you, someone who is another Alex-type, and get the whole way through a normal date without leaving early, or being sarcastic or mean.”

Well, there went your whole personality on dates.

Somehow you would have to muddle through.

“Why a douchebag? What purpose does it serve?”

Bucky made a face at you. “You don’t give everyone a chance, Y/N. How can you find ‘The One’ if you dismiss a date so easily? It’s just like taking a driver’s test, some people don’t ace it on the first try.”

“Fine. What do I get if I make it through a date with a douchebag?”

He took a few seconds to ponder this. “I’ll cook for you for an entire week.”

Shit…he had you there. Bucky was so freaking good at cooking, well on his way to becoming head chef, while you barely found your way around a microwave. “That’s not…unreasonable.”

Bucky’s lips lifted a bit in amusement. “Okay then. What do I get if I make it through a date with no sex?”

What did you have to offer in return? You were just a nerd who worked in a tech research lab, and it was highly doubtful that he’d want a new prototype before it was released to the public. Bugs and beta versions and whatnot.

That’s when it hit you. “I’ll get you a date with Natasha.”

Oh, how Bucky lusted for Natasha. Every time he would meet you for lunch at Stark Tower, he’d inevitably see her walk by, and his eyes would practically fall out of his head. She was single, and she’s asked after Bucky on at least one occasion, so you didn’t think it’d be an issue.

“What? Really?” Bucky’s eyes were wide.

He didn’t have to seem this enthusiastic. “Your over-eagerness is showing, Bucky.”

“Fine,” he consented, trying to seem cool and collected as he put his hand out. “You have a deal.”

“Fine.” You shook his hand briefly before dropping it. Time to treat him like the competition he was. “What if we both accomplish our goals?”

“Then we both win, I guess?” Bucky shrugged, seeming to not care about the details. “We could call truce and go on our merry way.”

“No,” you frowned, shaking your head. “There needs to be a winner. We have to be one-hundred percent honest with how things turn out. Oh! And, we should be the ones to pick each other’s date. That way there’s no cheating.”

“Sounds good. Let me know which girl I’ll be wooing before my big date with Natasha.” Bucky grinned a little, before turning on his heel to the door. “And I’ll be sure to find you just the right guy.”

You could practically already see the menu you were going to make up for him to cook, that’s how ridiculous he sounded.

“You’re on, Barnes,” you called out, as he shut the door behind him. This would be good practice for you. Maybe if you could sit through a date with a dbag, you could narrow your search a little more to find a good date.

Now you just had to figure out the real challenge - which one of your friends or acquaintances could you subject to Bucky’s man-whore ways without hurting her?

Part 2

PERMA TAGS: @sprinkleofhappinessuniverse @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @alurea-actually @smkunz613 @marvel-fanfiction @bluebrrn @simplyme8308 @cleanslates @ailynalonso15 @jaydenval @imnoaingeal @miss-jessi29 @kittthekat @crownie-sr @indominusregina @wonder-carolina @littlenerdgirl16 @amrita31199 @tatortot2701 @melissalovesmusicyay @kcsavege4134 @lilasiannerd @hardcorehippos @buckyswinterchildren @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt @cosmic-avenger @mirkwood—princess @neverbeforgotten @minervaem @givemethatgold @assbutt-son-of-a-bitch @decemberftw @widowvinter @nolaimagines @notsoprettykitty @dracsgirl @hollycornish @feelmyroarrrr @ancchor @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @aenna-4 @kithlin @heytherepartner @polkadottedpillowcase @johnmurphys-sass @aeillo @winterboobaer @kaaatniss @whyisbuckyso @super-daryl-dixon @wishingtobelost @capdanrogers @gallifreyansass @rockintensse @minaphobia @vaisabu @rchlnwtn @imamoose @ria132love @sofiadiaz04 @actual-bucky-barnes-trash @dolthiac @mytrueself @mynamespaigex @dressedbutwellstressed @onceuponahiddleston

I’ll take the first 15 people who want a story only tag.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfic #AU!buckybarnes #au!bucky #kaits5kauchallenge #jsd friendly wager

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