#// the dice said he does not see so he be like 'okay'

[beecauseevan]

Thank you @oldfashionedmorphine for the cute prompt <3 <3 <3

~~~

Eddie stares at the thing he just pulled out of the cardboard box in front of him, concisely labeled "Kitchen". That makes him think it must be food-related (then again, Buck kept a ring cutter in his cutlery drawer, so who knows), but try as he might, he can't work it out. It's a bright green plastic knife, but the handle is weird—it's a grid instead of a solid surface, too wide and too flat to be comfortable to hold.

"What is this?" 

He holds it up. Buck, who's sitting across from him, glances up, shrugs, and looks back down at Christopher's textbook.

"It's an avocado cutter."

"Why do you need an avocado cutter?" Eddie asks.

Buck looks up again. "Why do you think, Eddie? Not to cut apples, that's for sure."

Eddie reaches into the box again and takes out a (much more recognizable) plastic gadget—a red plastic frame and eight blades, arranged in the middle like spokes on a wheel. "And what's this?"

"That's an apple cutter." 

Wordlessly, Eddie drops that back in the box and pulls out something long and yellow—

"Banana cutter."

—followed by something that looks exactly the same, except orange.

"Hot dog cutter," Buck says, with a smile.

"Uh huh." Eddie pulls out something purple.

"That's an onion," Buck cuts himself off, "dicer."

"An onion cutter," Eddie repeats.

"No, an onion dicer," Buck insists. "It said so on the package."

Eddie looks at the thing in his hands. It looks exactly like the apple cutter, but the blades are arranged in a grid, forming little squares instead of wedges. "What's the difference?"

Chris, sat between them and brooding over his English homework, stops chewing on his pencil just long enough to say, "It's obvious, dad. Cutters cut, dicers dice."

"It's obvious, Eddie," Buck echoes, smirking.

Eddie drops the onion cutter on the no pile, ignoring Buck's pout. 

"I don't think you should be throwing out all of my shi—" Buck cuts himself off with a glance in Chris' direction. "All of my stuff. That's not the point of moving in together. Your stuff is supposed to mingle, Eddie."

"You can say shit, you know," Chris tells them boredly. "I'm not a baby."

"Our stuff is mingling," Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Chris, a silent admonishment Chris completely ignores. "But not this stuff. I already have a banana cutter. And an onion dicer. And all the other stuff in between."

Buck looks at him skeptically. "You do?"

Eddie nods and gets up. He walks to his cutlery drawer and pulls out a single kitchen knife. "See? It cuts, it dices, and it's universal."

"It's not shaped like a banana though."

Chris chuckles and quickly dips his head when Eddie looks at him, as if he's been focused on his homework the whole time. Eddie shakes his head.

"That sounds like a good thing, if you ask me."

"I guess I won't ask you, then," Buck replies.

Eddie sits back down. He would give in (he would fill every single drawer in this house with useless gadgets if it made Buck happy) but Buck's frown is clearly not genuine—the spark in his eyes is far too obvious.

"So what you're saying is," Buck continues, "as long as it's not a cutter, it's fine."

Eddie hesitates. "Why does that feel like a dangerous thing to say yes to?"

"Live on the edge, Eddie," Buck tells him sagely, and Eddie has never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Okay."

Buck pulls the box closer to him and starts rummaging through it. He produces some things Eddie doesn't mind saying yes to—spacer rings for his rolling pin, a collapsible silicone bowl for microwave popcorn, a pizza cutter shaped like a bicycle and cupcake tins shaped like firetrucks, which are just ridiculous enough that Eddie wants to see them in action.

"See," he says, "we're mingling."

"We are," Buck confirms, and there's something in his smirk that might be bad news. Eddie has seen that smirk before. It usually precedes a rope rescue or something equally dangerous. "So if you don't have something yet, I get to keep it, yeah?"

Eddie frowns. "That was the deal."

"Okay." Buck reaches into the box between them one last time and pulls out the weirdest thing Eddie has seen all day. It's chocolate-colored and square, with a round cylinder at the back. Two arms protrude from it, made from flexible white plastic. He shakes it lightly and those arms rattle, slapping against the flat base. 

Eddie stares at it. "What on earth does that do?"

"It's a s'more maker," Buck says, tugging at one of the arms. "You put your crackers here, and your chocolate and your marshmallow, and then you put it in the microwave. And this little thing holds everything in place."

"We used it every time I stayed over at Buck's," Chris says fondly. "The s'mores taste really, really bad."

"Microwaved s'mores taste bad?" Eddie reaches out to tug at the other arm, then lets it fall back down. "Shocking."

Buck is smirking, and the thing is—Eddie knows fully well that this is a dare. He knows that Buck expects to be told to get rid of this thing, and that he would do it, gladly. And maybe that last part is why Eddie just shrugs instead.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Buck repeats, incredulously.

"Okay," Eddie confirms. "Bet we can clear some space for it."

Buck stares at him, stunned. "For real?"

Eddie reaches for Buck's hand, still holding the chocolate-colored monstrosity, and smooths his thumb across Buck's knuckles.

"It's your house too," he says simply. 

It's Buck's house too. Buck isn't renting a room from Eddie, isn't staying here as a guest. Buck is a part of this household now, of this family. If he wants to make s'mores in their microwave, he doesn't need Eddie's permission.

Buck's eyes speak volumes. Later, when they're alone, Buck will kiss Eddie for this, hard enough that Eddie forgets about everything else. For now, he just flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, Buck's a little longer than Eddie's but calloused in all the same places. 

Chris catches one glimpse of them and rolls his eyes, burying his face in his homework, but he's smiling too.

"Okay," Buck says quietly. "Okay. But I am getting rid of it. Chris is right. The s'mores are really bad."

"Could take it to work," Eddie says after a moment, when his brain is no longer too flooded with love to work properly. "Show it to Bobby."

"He'll disown me."

"Yeah, maybe. But his face would be worth it."

Buck's smile grows into a smirk, bright and devastating. He mouths the next words, for Chris' sake, but Eddie has heard them so many times by now that his brain fills in the gaps, that he hears Buck's voice as he reads Buck's lips: I love you.

"I know you do," Eddie replies. It takes one pout, and then he breaks. He mouths back, trusting Buck to be able to read him just as easily: I love you more.

"You two are embarrassing," Chris tells them. "And we're keeping the s'mores maker. I like it."

Just like that, it's settled.

[emmyrosee]

Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.

There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.

You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.

He’s losing it.

Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.

“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”

“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”

“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”

“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”

“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”

The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.

“You look… good.”

Nothing.

“I’ve missed you.”

Nada.

“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”

You scowl at him.

“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”

No dice.

“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.

Okay. That didn’t help his situation.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.

You blink unamused.

Oh.

You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.

“Speak.”

You merely look him up and down and turn your head.

“Talk! Now!”

You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.

“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”

That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”

You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.

He shrugs, “you asked for it.”

And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”

You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.

No dice.

With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”

You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”

He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.

“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.

He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”

“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”

“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”

“HOURS?!” You howl.

He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”

“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”

“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.

You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”

“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“

“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”

This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.

He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“….”

“What?”

“That’s it?”

He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”

“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”

This, has you softening.

He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”

You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”

He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”

“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.

The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.

But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.

[strawberrygyuuuu]

𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 —> 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄 / 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓

Genre —> Fluff

—> how they'd react to their s/o holding the hem of their sleeve / shirt.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

YEONJUN

• will actually explode

• who said you could be this fucking cute? Huh?

• I actually believe this man does the day you start doing this and continues to die every single time

• his heart just melts for you okay?

• I think he tries to contain his feelings but you're just so cute he can't help but to show it

• like he'll literally look at you in that fond lovesick way with a dumb little smile on his face

• maybe a little blushy as well

• because to him it's like you feel safe with him so you're holding onto him so you don't get lost in especially big crowds

• hold onto him for as long as you want, he thrives for it...it's a bit of an ego boost as well lol

SOOBIN

• he'll think sum is wrong at first

• he'll look at you and scan your face to see if there's any distress or discomfort or anything

• but once he sees you're okay and just hanging onto him Soobin will smile his cute lil dimple smile

• little sparkles in his eyes because you're adorable wtf dude !!!!

• "you're okay?"

• you just smile and nod at him, "mhm!"

• I think he adores your habit because it's you and he adores you

• sometimes I think he'll gently take your hand and replace it with his so yours are intertwined with his

• idk man he might die from heart attack tho cause how cute you are

• so be careful pooks ‼️

BEOMGYU

• when he's in a playful mood he'll make a big deal out of it

• "hmmm??? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

• "you love me THAT much? Woah!"

• he giggles but he is slightly worried

• but when he's not, it's either he doesn't say anything and just has this smug look on his face

• or he'll look at you to make sure you're alright and pull you closer to him but that's more in way too crowded areas

• idk it's like a dice roll lol

• you might get a smug reaction, a concern reaction or he'll tease you

• but he does care I swear

• it also makes him feel proud because like...you feel safe with him and he can protect you

• he's so in love with you girlie

TAEHYUN

• once y'all are more comfortable in the relationship he'll learn to enjoy it

• he has boundaries and although he does love you vv much those are still in place

• but when you did it it was more out of instinct

• tae def looks at you, then your hand, back at you before smiling fondly

• just a small smile

• "everything good, Hun?" GHFF PLS I NEED HIM🙏🏻

• when you confirm you're alright, he figured you were js anxious or to not lose him or sum

• lets you be, but will tease you sometimes

• only because he thinks it's endearing

• he trusts you when you tell him that you're fine so he doesn't push or anything

• fosho wants you to do it more often, if you ask if it annoys him he'll simply shake his head and tell you it doesn't, because it really doesn't

• probably encourages you to keep doing it tbh

• idk pooks

• you're endearing to him

HUENINGKAI

• is soo blushy and shy it's cute

• you're cute

• like omfg???

• he adores you sm n I genuinely think he'd love when you do this little habit of yours

• he snickers and smiles so wide

• boy is ear to ear smiling he's so happy n in love 😭🙏🏻

• probably tried to be normal about it and not make too big of a deal about it but you can tell he's over the moon

• because again, it's like,, you trust him ??

• ARUGH he can't take it pooks

• when y'all get back to the dorms or your apartment or sum he'll be squishing your cheeks

• rubbing his cheek against yours squealing about how cutie you are

• full on fanboy

• but I can also see him silently being happy about it

• and maybe probably possibly tease you later on just to poke fun

• but nothing serious; please keep doing this !

[hgfictionwriter]

Handy

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Sometimes you forget Jessie’s an engineer. A very thoughtful, but shy one at that. One who feels more comfortable renovating your apartment than telling you she likes you.

Warnings: No warnings.

A/N: I'm hearing some fluff is in order. Hope you all enjoy!

"Where do you want this?" Jessie asked as she stood holding a large box in the doorway to your new bedroom.  

You looked over your shoulder and pointed to the walk-in closet. "Over there would be great. Thank you." 

"No problem," Jessie replied as she walked over and set the box down. She looked around as she stood. "Are you doing anything with the shelving in here?" 

"Oh yeah," you said as you got up and joined her. "I'm going to move these shelves up and add another set here to create more storage." 

"Smart. That'll be good," Jessie affirmed as she scanned the space.

You tried not to stare, but her profile, curious eyes, and the way her baby hairs stuck to her face after several trips to and from the moving truck made it challenging.   

"Hey, I think that's everything." 

Both you and Jessie turned when Janine's voice filtered in from the bedroom, seeing Kelli standing beside her.  

"Oh amazing. Thank you so much, all of you. I'm sure your coach would have my head if he knew you helped me move, but I'm very grateful. And hey - no injuries! Knock on wood. I guess you all still have to make it home in one piece," you joked.  

"Anytime," Janine said as she crossed the room and gave you a hug. "The new digs look great. Condo ownership looks good on you." 

You laughed. "Thank you. And it's even better when highly trained athletes do all the heavy lifting for you." 

"No unpacking though," Kelli joked. "That's where I draw the line." You held up your hands in mock surrender. 

"I can handle that part. Thank you. Next round of dinner and drinks are on me." 

Once everyone left and you continued the tedious task of unpacking, your phone dinged with a text. You retrieved it to see Jessie's name on the screen. 

"Hey. I hope unpacking is going well. I just wanted to say that if you need any help redoing your shelves I'm happy to swing by. I like projects like that." 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.  

"Sometimes I forget you're an engineer. You've done so much as is - I already rolled the dice by getting you to help me move furniture and precariously packed boxes. I don’t want to push." 

"I really don't mind! And setting up shelves is a lot less risky than holding the bottom end of the couch on the stairs while Kelli and Janine argue about how to angle it through a doorway." 

You laughed recalling the scene in your mind. She had a point. Plus, spending some time alone, just the two of you, wouldn't be unwanted.  

You'd met through Janine a few months back and had become friends in your own right since then, but it was still the norm that you typically only saw each other with Janine. This could be a nice change of pace. And, you know, if seeing her work in such a capacity would turn out to be eye candy - so be it.  

"Alright. You've convinced me. When are you free? And please, please know that if you change your mind it's really not a problem at all. Please don't feel pressured or obliged." 

"Excellent! Does next Sunday work for you? I'd say Saturday, but we have a game that afternoon." 

"I'm aware lol. I'll be there, after all. Sunday sounds great." 

"Right lol. Okay, Sunday it is! Let me know if you need me to pick anything up prior. I'm happy to." 

"You're too sweet. See you then." 

----- 

"You brought your own drill set?" You asked with an amused smile. The blush on Jessie's face was immediate. 

"Well, I didn't know what you had." Her voice rising in pitch. "And I have a spare battery. There's nothing worse mid-project than running out of a charge." 

"Nothing," you mocked affectionately and she averted her gaze as her cheeks grew redder. You smiled at her and ushered her to the walk-in. "Okay, well, between the two of us I think we're all set. Let's get started." 

It didn't take long for it to become Jessie leading and you helping. Going in, you felt you had a decent grasp of what to do, but as the work progressed, you realized how good it was that Jessie was here because she guided things with confidence and ease that you had to admit you probably wouldn't have had in her absence.  

You were expecting this to be an all day venture, but with Jessie at the helm the work went by quickly and smoothly.  

"Hand me that last shelf, please," she instructed calmly as she double-checked her work. 

You were ready with it and handed it up to her. You watched in what you hoped was subtle appreciation as she set it in place.

She stood perched on the ladder, wearing her black hat and her shirt was tucked in. The tape measure was hooked onto her pocket and she wore a soft look of concentration on her face. When she took the shelf, her biceps popped as she lifted it and set it down on the brackets with ease. The pencil tucked behind her ear was the cherry on top.  

Once she was confident the shelf was secure, she turned to you with a bright smile.  

"All done! What do you think?" 

"It's fantastic," you relayed, forcing yourself to refocus. And it was true. Not only was her workmanship thorough, but she'd tweaked a few things in your plan to optimize the setup even further. "Thank you so much. This is better than what I could've imagined. I owe you big time." 

She shrugged and focused on her feet as she stepped down off the ladder. "No, it's all good. It was fun." 

"Well, I really appreciate it. Truly," you went on, seeking eye contact, but she seemed to readily avoid it as she began cleaning up her tools. Eventually, she looked to you with a small smile. 

"Don't mention it. Thanks for letting me help." 

You rolled your eyes teasingly. "You're funny. Can I at least order us in some dinner and make you a drink or two?" You saw her begin to hesitate, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she fidgeted. Early on, you would've immediately backed off, fearing you were making her truly uncomfortable, but by this point you knew she was just shy. And a bit skittish. You went on gently. "Consider it a small token of my appreciation." 

She gave you a crooked smile as she distractedly readjusted her hat before seeming to catch herself and clasped both hands in front of her. "Okay, sure. That sounds good." 

You two talked fairly late into the night and you noted how Jessie relaxed into the evening. Conversation was easy and naturally weaved from the light and fun to the more serious and heavy without getting uncomfortable or awkward. The night only came to an end because you had to work in the morning.  

"Thank you again for all of your help," you told her as she stood at your front door, shoes, jacket and backpack on. "Not only does the closet look great, but it was a lot of fun - thanks to you. I can't help but think about projects half that serious that I've done with exes and they've turned into all out brawls. So, thank you." 

Her posture straightened slightly and as she blushed with a nervous laugh. "Well, what can I say. We work well together." If you were right, the flush of her cheeks deepened. She averted her gaze, shuffling her feet a bit before she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and nodded over your shoulder.  

"You said you were going to change out the lighting fixtures in the living room, right?" She asked. Her smile morphed into a smirk. "I mean, I'm not an electrical engineer, but a couple lighting fixtures is no big deal. I could come over next week and help with those." 

You gave her a smirk of your own, unknowingly looking her up and down.  

"If you'd really like to. I certainly won't stop you." 

The easy confidence she was trying to channel a moment ago flickered before she gave you a nonchalant shrug.  

"Sure. It's not a problem." 

"Alright," you accepted. "I'm looking forward to it. Thanks again, and good night." You leaned forward and pulled her into a short hug - something you hadn't done before - and it seemed to catch her off-guard as she very belatedly put her hands up around you as you were already beginning to pull away, and even then, her movements were stiff and tentative. When you fully broke away her face was beet red.  

"Okay." Her voice was high and tight. She gave you a quick, awkward wave before turning to leave. "Have a good night."  

----- 

The next weekend rolled around and Jessie was yet again up on a ladder in your new apartment. She tilted her head and frowned in concentration as she installed the last set of screws on your new lighting fixture.  

"Okay, go ahead and turn the breaker back on," she told you as she stepped down and walked over to the light switch. You did as you were told. 

"Okay, done." 

The switch went on with a soft click and light filled the room. You watched her before looking up at the newly installed fixture. She smirked.  

"Looks good," she said. “How do you like it?”

“It's brilliant. Thank you again. But what I’m really interested in is this,” you said as you closed the space between you two and grasped her hand, she tensed at the contact, but didn’t pull away. You lifted her hand to see the cut on her knuckle.

“I knew it. Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said and at that she pulled her hand back, hiding it behind her back.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“I know you are, but still,” you told her gently, noting the embarrassed look on her face. “Indulge me. Let me at least put a bandaid on it.”

She grumbled in contemplation but eventually conceded. You smiled to yourself at how her head jerked away when you glanced up from her hand to catch her staring at you.

When you finished placing the bandaid on her you released her hand and took a step back. You waited to catch her eye and spoke, “Make sure you clean that up more when you get home.”

Her cheeks grew pink and she rolled her eyes. You caught the hint of a smile on her lips though.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jessie stayed for dinner and a drink once more. Conversation flowed even easier, if that’s possible, than last time. You tried to hide the smile over how pleased you were by this since you and Jessie had been texting all week in between. It would've been understandable if you ran out of things to talk about by this point, but you didn’t - at all.

"I noticed there were a couple of dings in the drywall - probably from when we were moving stuff in. Probably Janine's doing - I'm much more conscientious," Jessie relayed with a facetious eye roll. "I could patch those up for you. I imagine the previous owners left some of the original paint or we could just get it paint matched." 

You smirked at her from across the couch.  

"You know, we could always just hang out - no reno job required. You don’t have to do something every time." 

She blushed and took a sip of her drink.  

"Oh, well, you know. I don’t mind." 

"Well, how about we just hang out next time. If you are desperate to repair the drywall even after that, well, have at 'er. But maybe a work-free, normal hang out would be nice," you told her with a soft laugh. She nodded, blush fading as she returned your smile.  

“Okay, that sounds like a plan." She swirled her drink, looking down at the churning liquid and speaking into it. "You could come over to my place? I could make us dinner. Or whatever." She finally mustered up the courage to look back up at you.

Now it was your turn to blush. You fiddled with your glass and offered her a hint of a smile. "Okay. That sounds nice." 

————

“Whoa. That’s fancy,” Jessie commented as you set down a nice bottle of Chardonnay on her counter.

“Well, it’s my first time over. I had to break out the good stuff for you.”

Jessie grinned and retrieved a couple of glasses for you before setting down two plates of food on the kitchen table.

“This looks amazing,” you told her as you looked at the meal she prepared. “And I can’t help but think this just isn’t fair. You did all this free work for me and now you’ve made me dinner.”

“Was it free?” She squinted at you teasingly. “You had to listen to me babble on about metric versus imperial for a solid 20 minutes there.”

“I didn’t mind. I’d listen to that any day. I like hearing your facts and tidbits and about whatever you're interested in,” you assured her and she tried to conceal her smile. “How’d you become so handy anyway? I mean, I know you have this engineering background now, but still.”

She shrugged. “I liked helping my dad with projects around the house. Helping him build stuff. It was just always fascinating to me to see things come together like that and to know you did it with your own two hands.”

“That’s cute. And very sweet,” you told her as you took a bite. She dismissed your comment with a small wave of her fork.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Well. I still think it’s cute. And I certainly reaped the rewards. Thank you again - seriously, for all of your help. You didn’t have to help me, and I really appreciate all the work you did.”

She took a sip of wine and peered at you over the glass, taking a moment to contemplate.

“There’s still that matter of the drywall,” she joked.

“You’re still on that, huh?” You said with a laugh. “What are we going to do when there are no projects left to work on?”

A faint blush began to form on Jessie’s face and she shuffled around in her chair a bit before taking a bite of food.

“There are always projects to be done. And if not, well, you’re the one who said we could hang out without a project to work on.”

You propped your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your open palm. “And the offer still stands. Clearly,” you gestured around her apartment. “If you’re interested.” Jessie dropped your gaze and flushed a deeper tone of pink.

“Yeah. I mean, we get along alright.”

You snickered a bit before taking a sip of your drink.

“What resounding affirmation," you said dryly and she shot you a bashful look. You smirked. "I guess it’s settled then.”

You polished off the bottle of wine that evening and your conversation carried you late into the night. You made a point of not checking the time and Jessie made no attempt to either. You had to work in the morning, but you just didn't care. You'd deal with the consequences later.

At some point though, an inevitable yawn escaped Jessie.

“Oh, I should let you get to sleep,” you offered, though not yet moving from your spot on the couch next to her. You were sitting across from one another and you were very aware of how if either of you shifted in a particular way, your legs would brush.

“No, it’s fine,” she dismissed. “I’ll get my second wind here in no time.” You chuckled and finally checked your phone. Your eyes went wide.

“Oh shit,” you laughed. “Well, I’ve worked off of less sleep before.”

“You didn’t tell me you were working,” she frowned at you. “Yeah, some clients are in from out of town. It’s okay, I wanted to hang out with you.” You reluctantly rose from the couch and she followed. “As much as I'm enjoying myself, I should go. I can get about 4 hours of sleep if there are no delays on the train.”

“You are not taking the train,” Jessie told you in the most stern voice you’d ever heard from her. It actually caught you off guard and you ignored the stirring in your chest at her display.

“Fine. An Uber,” you conceded.

“No. I’ll drive you,” she countered.

“Don’t be silly.” You waved her off. “You’re tired too and I’m not making you drive 30 minutes across town and back at this hour.”

“Then…I don't know, just spend the night.” She immediately held up her hands in defense. “Not like that. I just mean…it’s super late, getting home is going to be a pain. I’ll drive you home in the morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Jessie…” It was tempting. The logic wasn’t entirely bulletproof, but reasonable enough.

In the time you took to start contemplating, Jessie had run to the closet and started pulling out spare pillows and blankets. You looked at them when she returned and gave her a discerning look. You didn’t feel uncomfortable, you just didn’t want to intrude.

“I’ll take an Uber in the morning.” You told her and she gave you an easy smile as she began setting up the couch.

“I’ll drive you,” she repeated nonchalantly.

“Oh my god. You’re so stubborn,” you complained half-heartedly.

“Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug as she went to her room for a few moments and came back out with a set of pyjamas.

“Don’t tell Janine. She’ll never let me hear the end of this,” you warned in mock petulance as you went to take the clothes from her. She pulled her fingers across her lips, feigning a zipping motion.

“She wouldn’t let me hear the end of it either, so I'd say we're now partners in crime,” she laughed, but held the clothes back from you. “These are mine. Yours are on the bed.”

“Huh?” You asked, giving her a blatant look of confusion.

“I’m sleeping out here. You take the bed,” she returned lightly and before you could retort she gently began to corral you towards her bedroom.

“Jessie.” You protested. “Are you nuts? I’m taking the couch.”

“Incorrect,” she refuted before giving you one final, soft push into the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She looked up at the ceiling, seeming to calculate something in her head. “6 am?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, still giving her a lingering look of disapproval. Before you could conjure a retort, she went on.

"This is my house, so what I say goes," she said rather haughtily, coupled with a subtle smirk. She was evidently very pleased with herself and her mannerisms had you too distracted, a small flutter echoing in your chest, so you let it be. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Okay. Well, if you change your mind - feel free to kick me out. Of your bedroom or the apartment - either is fine.”

“Now who’s nuts,” she quipped. Her light and easy demeanour wavered slightly as she paused in the doorway and ran a hand through her hair. “Um, well, bathroom’s through there. Help yourself to whatever. Good night.”

You were still in vague disbelief about how the last part of the night had unfolded as you lay in Jessie’s bed, wearing her clothes. Had you previously imagined being in Jessie’s bed? Yes. Did you imagine this? No. Certainly not.

All things considered, you slept pretty well. You didn't expect yourself to, so it was a surprise when your alarm went off. It took you a few moments for your mind to reconcile the unfamiliar surroundings, but you quickly came to. You sat up, the first rays of morning light illuminating the room and you observed them in a more lucid headspace than you had the night before.

The room was neat, organized, minimalistic in a way, but still had plenty of things that made it Jessie. A few framed photos of family and friends, her camera, a few, select books neatly displayed, some cute trinkets from her trips around the globe - no medals on display though. How typical.

A sound from the kitchen pulled you from your observations with a frown. You thought you were hearing things at first until you heard a few more faint sounds.

You quickly got changed and tentatively opened the bedroom door a crack to peer out. Not only was Jessie up already, she was in the middle of making breakfast. You opened the door the rest of the way with a puzzled look on your face. She turned to you with a smile.

"Morning! How did you sleep?"

"How long have you been up?" You asked instead. She glanced at her watch.

"I don't know. 30 minutes maybe? So, how did you sleep?" She repeated her inquiry.

"Shockingly well," you replied with a light laugh as you leaned on the kitchen counter and watched her work. "How about you? Miss I-insist-on-taking-the-couch."

She shot you a smirk over her shoulder as she scrambled the eggs in the frying pan. "I slept perfectly well, thank you," she relayed pointedly. "Coffee?" She asked.

"Please."

"Black, right?"

You smiled at her. "Yes, thank you. Can I do anything to help you?"

"Nope, just about done," she told you as she handed you a travel mug with steaming hot coffee. "For the road," she explained.

You watched Jessie as she turned back to the stove and continued making breakfast. For a split second, you pictured yourself as a couple in this moment. Easy mornings together, sharing breakfast and coffee, talking about your day ahead, kissing each other goodbye and going your separate ways until you came home to one another. You cleared your throat and shook out your head subtly as you came back to reality. You didn't want to get too far ahead of yourself.

You both ate a quick breakfast together, and took your toast and coffee to go. Jessie navigated through traffic on the way to your apartment. You scolded yourself internally for how you found something as simple as Jessie driving, attractive. Okay, maybe you really had it bad for her.

"I have to say, I feel like I'm 18 again or something," you joked. "Getting 4 hours of sleep, going through a whole bunch of hoops just to get to school - or work in this case - on time. It's ridiculous. But it was fun." You took a sip of your coffee. "I bet you were in bed by 10 every night in uni - minus late game nights, if that was a thing. But 8 hours of sleep, very responsible, all your readings and homework done."

Jessie shot you a mild glare.

"I've had some wild nights," she countered, not sounding entirely convincing, or even remotely, really. It endeared her to you more.

"Oh yeah, I bet you were a real bad girl," you teased. Jessie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, and like you were."

You sat primly and gave her a sly smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You bantered back and forth the rest of the drive, and again, it felt like you were already something you were not. You found yourself lamenting your arrival as she pulled up to your building. Pushing aside your disappointment, you instead leaned over the middle console and gave Jessie a fleeting kiss on the cheek. She startled at the touch.

"Thanks for driving me. And for letting me spend the night. And for dinner," you frowned as you added things to the list. "I've gotta start pulling my weight here."

"No," she said in a strained voice, her cheeks flaring up as she glanced at you before her eyes darted away. She laughed nervously and scratched the back of her neck. "Don't mention it."

You gave her forearm a quick squeeze, a blush threatening to form on your own face at how firm the muscles were there, and stepped out of the car. You walked to your door, quickly strategizing if or when to turn back and wave when you heard her call out your name. You turned around with a puzzled look on your face.

"Uh, I could drive you to work? When you're ready?" She offered from the car through the now-open window. Her face burned impossibly brighter red. "It'll be faster than the bus."

You smiled openly at her.

"Oh, you're just spoiling me now." She smiled in return. "Well, who am I to say 'no'?" ------

A/N: Part Two is available here.

[togrowoldinv]

Truth or Dare

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

While playing truth or dare with the team, feelings get revealed

Note: I was going to do it as a college au, but I thought an Avengers party would be a fun setting for this one. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

It was a silly idea, really, to play truth or dare with the rest of the Avengers. Everyone but Tony thought they were too old for it, but somehow he convinced everyone to play.

It started out simple. Sam dared Tony to chug a drink, Clint made Steve tell the group about his USO tour days, and you dared Wanda to fly up and touch the ceiling.

But as the night went on things got more intense. Everyone started asking hard hitting truth questions or daring each other to make questionable decisions.

“Alright, one last round,” Tony announces once everyone is more than a later wasted and definitely tiring of the job. “Romanoff, you’re up.”

Natasha hadn’t participated very much at this point. She was only dared a couple times to do simple things. No one wanted to mess with her.

“Fine,” she agrees. She rolls the dice and it lands on Tony’s number. He grins at her. “Truth or dare?”

“I think… dare. Why not end the night on a fun one,” Tony answers.

“Okay. I dare you to go home to your girlfriend,” Natasha says.

“Lame!” Tony yells.

“A dare is a dare, Stark,” Steve comes to Nat’s defense.

“I’m staying until my turn,” Tony declares. “Which is now.”

He rolls the dice this time. It lands on your number. You’ve avoided anything too embarrassing so far, but you never know with Tony.

“Y/n, my dear, truth or dare?” He asks dramatically.

“Um, dare?” You phrase it like a question. That makes everyone laugh.

“Dare it is,” he says. He rubs his chin as to appear to be thinking. “I dare you to kiss Natasha.”

The room goes silent at his dare. It seems like everyone is looking at you. Does he know you had a crush on her? Does everyone know? Does Natasha know? The thoughts run through your head as you’re not sure how much time has passed since he dared you.

“Alright, game over,” Sam cuts in.

“Yeah, we all need to rest up for training tomorrow,” Steve adds.

The guys leave the room one by one and say they’re goodnights. Natasha waits by the door frame to catch you when you leave. Wanda remains sitting by your side.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Yeah. I just- does he know?”

“I think he’s drunk and was trying to be funny,” Wanda reasons. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

She nudges your shoulder. You offer her a weak smile.

“Thanks Max,” you say.

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tell her how you feel,” Wanda says. She hugs you before standing up to leave the room.

You stand up, taking a deep breath before you walk, and enter the hallway. Natasha watches and follows you towards the elevator. She steps in after you.

“Oh, your floor?” You ask her, ready to push the button.

“Actually, can we talk?” She asks.

You have no choice but to agree. The two of you exit on your floor. Natasha again follows you as you lead her into the living room area.

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask her.

“What happened back there,” Nat says. “What Tony said.”

“Oh, I don’t know why he did that.”

Natasha takes a step closer to you. It’s small but you notice it.

“Why didn’t you do it?” She asks.

“I- I don’t know,” you lie.

“Y/n, why didn’t you kiss me?”

She steps even closer now. Her body is within arms reach.

“Natasha,” is all you can mumble out.

“I would’ve kissed you,” she admits. “Even in front of everyone. I would’ve.”

You’re taken aback by that. All this time you’ve been crushing on her, you never considered she might have feelings for you too.

“So again, why didn’t you kiss me?” Natasha asks.

Here goes nothing.

“Because if I kissed you then I wouldn’t have been able to stop,” you say.

“I don’t see a problem with that.”

You take the steps closer to her this time. Her hands circle your waist as you do so. It feels right.

“Truth or dare?” Natasha whispers.

“Dare,” you reply.

“Kiss me,” the words fall off her lips just before you kiss them.

You kiss her for what feels like forever. You kiss her until you’re both out of breath. You kiss her like you’ve never kissed anyone before.

The truth is that you and Natasha both needed that push to take the leap together. You wonder if Wanda put the idea into Tony’s head somehow. She’s always looking out for you.

“Stay?” You ask Natasha once you’ve moved to the couch together.

She answers with another kiss. And another. And another.

It’s the perfect end to the day.

[mononijikayu]

“i canʼt hold enough of you in my hands.” — gojo satoru.

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: l'amore dice ciao (slow take) by armando trovajoli

NOTE: i knew i said i wasn't going to write more, but i ended up writing this because i ended the other one so sadly that i realized i needed something that was genuinely happy. so i did that. i'll be writing more within the next eleven days. but we'll see, depending on my schedule!!! i love you!!! enjoy <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE, BRINGING HOME A BABY IN YOUR HUMBLE ABODE. You had never expected to be so overprotective over anything in your entire life, especially not on a simple car ride. But here you were, cradling your most precious treasure in your arms, heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and overwhelming love. Your newborn son, Satoshi, nestled against your chest, was the very embodiment of fragility and new beginnings.

The car ride from the hospital to your home felt like an eternity. Every bump in the road, every sudden stop or start, sent a jolt of worry through you. You tightened your hold on Satoshi, making sure his tiny head was well-supported, his small body swaddled snugly in a soft blanket. The world outside seemed too chaotic, too unpredictable for someone so small and innocent.

Beside you, your husband, Gojo Satoru sat with his bright blue eyes fixed lovingly on the little bundle in your arms. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by a focused intensity, every bit the protective father. 

He kept glancing between you, sleeping Satoshi, the road ahead, and Ichiji who seemed more tense than usual. Satoru’s tension could be felt from that far, you suppose. But you can’t fault your husband at all. His hand occasionally reaches over to rest reassuringly on your knee, as though it was to calm him and you simultaneously. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress.

You nodded, but the anxiety still lingered. “I’m just… it’s so surreal. He’s so tiny, so perfect. I want to make sure everything is perfect for him.”

Satoru’s cerulean eyes softened, and he reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You’re already doing an amazing job. He’s lucky to have you as his mama, darling.”

Satoshi stirred slightly, making a small cooing sound that melted your heart. You looked down at his tiny face, marveling at his delicate features. He looked exactly like Satoru, that’s what his mother said. And you could definitely see it. His small mouth quirked joyously the way his father does. His white–silver locks were as tender and soft as Satoru's own. His chubby cheeks were warm too. And you were so in love. So entirely absorbed by your love for your son. 

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure. 

The car pulled into the driveway of your little home, and Satoru quickly got out to open the door for you. He extended his hand to help you out, his touch steadying you as you carefully stepped onto the pavement. You whisper a thankful retort to your husband, who grinned at you and turned to Ichiji, who nearly jumped when Satoru thanked him genuinely. 

Satoru led the way as you walked into your home, his six-eyes trying to check for any changes in the house. When you both got in, it seemed safe enough but then again, Satoru led you to the nursery. Every inch of the nursery was built by your husband. He was excited about trying to make it as bright as possible, as colorful as possible and he had meticulously prepared in the weeks leading up to Satoshi’s birth. 

The quaint little room was better than you could have imagined it. Satoru had not wanted to show you anything until the baby arrived. It was a surprise for both you and your little boy. It was just a perfect little haven of soft pastels and gentle light. You were impressed with how it all blended together, how he had managed to put everything into a theme. But you knew that’s just how much your husband loves your son. Looking at him, you wondered how much more you could love this man, how much more love your heart can take for him.

“Did you do everything from scratch?” You whispered to him, mindful of your little boy. 

He hummed in reply. “But it’s not just me. ‘miki and ‘gumi both helped, y’know? I couldn’t have done it without them!”

You smiled when you heard that. When you told the two that you were expecting, it was a whirlwind.  Tsumiki was jumping up in joy, Megumi seemed stunned that there was to be a baby. You didn't expect Megumi to have a loud reaction, he was always more quiet. But you knew that overtime, he was just as excited as his elder sister. He showed that through his little acts, like asking about the baby, asking if you both needed anything. He was tender like that.

You wouldn’t say that your pregnancy was a dream. It was hard. You were nauseated all the time, you were crying day and night, you couldn’t keep food down. But your two little ones did what they could to help you out. Megumi knew that you couldn’t eat much, but he would make sure there was already hot tea and some slices of fruit you can eat for you to enjoy in the mornings.

Tsumiki made sure that she helped you out with some small tasks Satoru allowed you to do, that she could embrace you when you feel like crying about some little things. They were both wonderful with you throughout the pregnancy, they’ve always been wonderful to you since you met them. 

At this moment, you wanted to see them both. And you were sure they’d like to see you and the little one. But you knew that they won’t arrive until tomorrow. You were thankful that your mother took Megumi and Tsumiki with her until you could come home from the hospital.

You gently laid little Satoshi in his crib, tucking the blanket around him. Satoru stood beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist carefully. He lets out a small sigh as both of you watch as your son settles into his new environment. The room seemed to glow with a serene tranquility, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Satoru whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “He is. And he’s ours.”

“Hm, he’ll always be.” He agrees, his hand tracing across the small of your back. “The kids will love him, I’m pretty sure.”

“Tsumiki will just gobble him up.” You laughed softly.

“And Megumi’s gonna be a bit flustered, ‘m sure.”

“Hey, he’s just a little shy! He’s trying.”

Satoru kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the moment in his memory. “Hm, he is.”

“Thank you.” 

“What for, darling?”

You smile at him. “For giving me this lovely little life.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Darling, if anything, I should be the one saying that, hm?”

“I love you.” You whispered against him, letting your hand trail against his free hand. “Genuinely.”

“Love you too, very much.” He squeezes your hand back. “All four of you. We’re going to be okay, darling.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of happiness and the sheer weight of the responsibility ahead. “I know. ‘cause we have each other.”

He smiles. ”Nothing better than that.”

As you stood there, watching over your son, you felt a profound sense of completeness. The future held many uncertainties, but this moment was perfect. Surrounded by the love of your husband and the new life you had brought into the world, you knew that together, you could face anything.

Satoru’s hand found yours, squeezing gently. “Welcome home, my little dawn.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “This is just the beginning.”

You nodded, resting your head against Satoru’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. In that small, serene nursery, surrounded by the promise of new beginnings, you felt a deep and abiding peace. 

This was your peace.

This was your home.

And this was your future. 

You were truly content now.

SOMEHOW, ADJUSTING WAS QUITE A WORD TO LEARN. Life as new parents to your little boy, Satoshi, was a whirlwind of joy, exhaustion, and moments that you knew would become cherished memories. And though it was hard most days, stressful even — you both would not trade it for anything else.

Gojo Satoru, ever the dedicated father, decided to take paternity leave, putting his duties aside to focus on his growing family.  He didn’t care about what the higher ups were going to say about it.  He just sent a phone call, turned off his phone and left them to deal with the situation until he could come back. He was not going to let any sense of his duty ruin his first glimpses as a father.

The decision brought a new level of warmth and connection to your home, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the world outside. It was more common now to see Gojo Satoru standing by the kitchen at two in the morning, trying to warm up frozen breast milk or being up and about by seven to make Megumi and Tsumiki’s bento boxes and see them off to school.

Satoru’s presence was a source of comfort and strength postpartum. He refused to let you raise a finger while he was in the house. You were still healing from the birth, he said. The best thing for you is to enjoy your relaxation and rest, while he does his part. It’s the smallest thing, he says to you as he gives you your breakfast that morning, there’s nothing to worry about. 

Most nights, when he lets you go to sleep as much as you can — you end up waking up to walk towards the bathroom to pee and you would see him, sitting in the living room. You would stand there, watching him as he finds himself cradling Satoshi, whispering sweet words of love and promises for the future. His cerulean eyes, usually so full of mischief, softened with a tenderness that melted your heart each time you saw him with your son.

You couldn’t help but enjoy seeing him so domesticated, to be at such a peace with himself, with his life. This was such a far cry from the Gojo Satoru you had known in your youths. And it was so beautiful, how genuinely graceful he had adapted to his new life. He was always there, with a gentle touch and a reassuring smile, ready to do what he had to for your comfort. 

“He’s just so small!” Tsumiki gushed, looking at the baby and then at you and Satoru. Her smile was from ear to ear. “Satoru-san, he looks exactly like you!”

Satoru laughed softly, a sound filled with pride and joy. “Hm, doesn’t he? He was born on my birthday too! My precious little ‘toshi.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Yes, he does. But look closer, Tsumiki. He’s got my nose and my stubborn streak already.”

Tsumiki leaned in, examining Satoshi’s tiny features with a thoughtful expression. “Oh, you’re right! I can see it now. He’s a perfect mix of both of you.” She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “He’s going to be so loved.”

Megumi, standing a bit shyly to the side,  as he looked at you and nodded. “Yeah, he is.” He stepped closer, peering at Satoshi with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Welcome home….Satoshi.”

Megumi and Tsumiki were adjusting well to having a baby around the house. Satoru teased them both about being Satoshi’s elder siblings often, Tsumiki was gleeful and Megumi was always bashful. It was so lovely to watch. The house became more livelier than ever before.

You always noted that Tsumiki was a natural caregiver, always ready to lend  a hand with diaper changes or soothing Satoshi when he was fussy. You and Satoru often told her that she didn’t have to, but she insists that she wants to  spend time with him. She adored him, her nurturing nature shining through in every interaction.

Megumi, on the other hand, was more reserved. Shy about expressing his love for Satoshi with words, he found other ways to show his affection. He would sit quietly by Satoshi’s crib, reading aloud from his favorite books, or he’d be the first to arrive when Satoshi’s cries echoed through the house, ready to offer a pacifier or a comforting touch.

Satoru reached out, ruffling Megumi’s hair gently. “You’re going to be good to him, hm? Aren’t you, Megumi? I’m counting on you to help keep an eye on him when I’m not around, ‘kay?”

Megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he nodded with determination. “I will.”

You felt a wave of gratitude and love for your makeshift family, the bonds between all of you growing stronger with each passing moment. “Of course we will.” you said softly, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re going to take care of each other, always.”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. “I’m so happy. It’s like our family keeps growing, and it’s just... perfect.”

Satoru pulled both Tsumiki and Megumi into a gentle hug, careful not to jostle Satoshi in your arms. “We’re a team, always remember!” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “No matter what, we stick together.”

“Of course!” Tsumiki cheered in reply.

Satoru looked at Megumi, pulling him closer. “What about you, ‘gumi? We’re all in this together!”

Megumi flustered, trying to shove your husband. “Ugh, stop—”

“Ehhhh! Just say it once, come on now!”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Megumi, come on! Satoru–san has a point!”

“I still don’t want to!”

As you watched this heartfelt moment, your heart swelled with emotion. The little ones have had quite a rough life, you knew that much. But to know that they have a home here, that they were happy here. The love and unity in your heart for your little home were palpable. Despite the challenges ahead, all the things you may never know — you knew that with your husband and the kids, you’ll always be fine.

Satoshi stirred slightly, his tiny hand reaching out as if sensing the warmth and love around him. You gently kissed his forehead, whispering softly, “See, Satoshi? You’re so loved by everyone, you know?”

Satoru glanced at you, his eyes shimmering with unabashed joy. “We’re going to give him the best life, darling. I promise you that.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace and contentment. “I know we will. Together.”

The gentle hum of life outside seemed to pause in reverence for the precious moment unfolding within your home. Satoshi nestled peacefully in your arms, his tiny fingers curling and uncurling as if grasping at the very fabric of love that surrounded him. The soft murmur of your family’s voices filled the air, a symphony of warmth that your little boy seems to be so in love with.

“Hey... can I hold him?” Megumi asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful.

You turned to Megumi, seeing the earnestness in his eyes. This was a big step for him, wanting to connect with his new brother in such a tangible way. You looked at Satoru, who was grinning. You smiled and nodded.

Satoru’s smile was warm and encouraging. “Of course, Megumi. Just be gentle, hm? He’s still too small, after all.”

With careful movements, You carefully handed Satoshi over to Megumi. The young boy’s face lit up with a rare, genuine smile as he cradled the little bundle in his arms. Satoshi, sensing the familiar presence, settled almost immediately, his tiny hand reaching up to grasp Megumi’s finger.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Look at them.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “We’re really doing this.”

You leaned into Satoru, your heart swelling with love for your family. “Yes, we are, aren't we?" you replied softly. “And it’s perfect.”

Megumi looked up, his expression one of pure wonder. “He’s so small.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But he’s... perfect.”

“You’re doing great, Megumi,” you whispered, your heart swelling with pride.

Tsumiki joined you, her eyes shining with happiness. “He loves you, Megumi. You’re such a good big brother to him already."

“....am not his big brother.” he says shyly, scarlet blush across his face. 

“Nah, you are.” Satoru whispers at him, smiling as he pats Megumi’s hair. “You will always be his big brother, okay?”

You giggled. “And he’s happy about it too. He’s happy to be carried by his big brother Megumi.”

Megumi’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t look away from Satoshi. “I just….. want him to be happy.” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “He’s happy because he’s surrounded by love.” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “And because he has the best siblings in the world caring for him.”

You smiled at him, so full of love.

“I love you, all of you, my love.”

Cerulean eyes looked at you, tenderly.

“I love you too, darling. So so much.”

epilogue

One afternoon, you found Satoru in the kitchen, attempting to bake cookies with Tsumiki. Flour dusted his hair and apron, and Tsumiki giggled as she helped mix the dough. The sight was a blend of chaotic mess and heartwarming sweetness.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with Satoshi nestled in your arms. The smell of burnt sugar was already wafting through the air, a clear indicator that things might not be going as planned.

Satoru flashed you a mischievous grin, his blue eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “I’m a man of many talents, darling. Baking just happens to be one of them.” He tried to flick flour at you, but it mostly ended up on Tsumiki, who erupted into fits of laughter.

“Yeah, sure.” you said, laughing as you shook your head. “I think you might need to add ‘kitchen disaster’ to your list of talents.”

Just then, Megumi walked in, drawn by the noise and commotion. He took one look at the flour-covered Satoru and the batter-splattered Tsumiki and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re making a mess.” he said dryly, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “We could just buy cookies from the local bakery.”

“Come on, Megumi!” Satoru called out, waving a dough-covered hand. “Join the fun! We’re making memories here!”

“Satoru–san’s right, Megumi!” Tsumiki says, giggling as she plays with the batter. “Come on!”

Megumi looks at you and you laugh, nodding. “Go on. It’s not that bad. If anything, we can clean it up. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, Megumi sighed and pursed his lips. He slowly grabbed an apron  from the hook and joined in, his serious demeanor softening as he started to help. Slowly, the kitchen started to be filled with laughter and playful teasing, a symphony of familial love.

When the cookies finally came out of the oven, they were slightly burnt and oddly shaped. Satoru picked one up, examining it critically before taking a big bite. “Mmm, just like I remember from years ago.” he said with a straight face, making everyone laugh. “Didn’t you use to make us bake after missions?”

“Yes, but it did not look like that.” You smiled at him. “We could make new ones, if you want?”

“Yeah, let’s make one that’s digestible.” Megumi says as he started using the cookie cutters on his batter.

“Hey! They are perfectly digestible.”

“I don’t know, my love.” You tout as you looked at him teasingly, “It doesn’t seem to be good right now.”

“Oh just you wait, I’ll make another batch!” He says, almost determined to prove you wrong. “‘miki! Get more flour and butter! I’ll get the eggs!”

“I’m on it, Satoru–san!”

“Satoru, be careful, don’t run!”

“But I gotta get it done soon!”

“This isn’t masterchef, don’t rush!”

In the end, your husband made a more pleasant looking batter — but it was because you were making sure to watch everything as you cradled your little son in your arms. Megumi didn't need anything else but praise when it came to his cookies. They looked so round and perfectly golden. Tsumiki’s own batch was also pretty, she added pink sprinkles in her batter which made it more bright. 

When all the dishes were taken care of, the cookies were left to cool. Megumi prepared both of you a cup of black coffee, while Tsumiki plated the rest. Satoru whistled as he settled everything away where it belonged. 

"These cookies are... interesting," Megumi remarked, taking a hesitant bite.

Tsumiki giggled, nudging him playfully. "They're not that bad, Megumi. It's the thought that counts, right?"

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. "Exactly! Besides, the company is what makes them taste good." He ruffled Megumi's hair, earning a good-natured eye roll from the boy.

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "I have to agree with Satoru on this one. Being together makes everything better."

Satoshi, sitting in his high chair with a cookie of his own, babbled happily, bits of cookie smeared around his mouth. His bright eyes sparkled with joy as he looked around at his family.

"Satoru-san, can we make more cookies tomorrow?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

Satoru chuckled, wiping a smudge of flour from his cheek. "We'll see, Tsumiki. Maybe we'll try making something else. How about a cake?"

"Yeah!" Tsumiki cheered happily with infectious excitement.

Megumi looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking up. "Can we make a chocolate cake?"

"Chocolate cake it is," you agreed, laughing at the enthusiasm of your children. "But maybe we should let Satoru handle the mixing next time."

Satoru feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey, I think I did a pretty good job! Next time, I'll show you all my true baking skills."

"Sure, sure," you teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "We'll hold you to that, Mr. Talented."

The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and lighthearted banter. As the evening wore on, you found yourself marveling at the simple joy of being together. The challenges and uncertainties of life seemed distant, overshadowed by the love and warmth of your family.

Later that night, as you tucked Tsumiki and Megumi into bed, they both looked up at you with sleepy smiles.

"Goodnight to you, Gen-san!" Tsumiki whispered, her eyes already drooping.

"Goodnight, sweetie," you replied, brushing a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well."

Megumi gave you a small, shy look with a blush on his cheeks. "Thanks for the cookies..... And for everything."

Your heart swelled with love as you kissed his forehead too. "You're welcome, Megumi. Sweet dreams."

Back in your bedroom, you found Satoru already lying down, Satoshi nestled in his crib nearby. You slipped into bed beside him, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

"Thank you for today," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "Thank you, too. For everything. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world."

You smiled, closing your eyes as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Me neither. Together, we'll make every day special."

One night, as you lay in bed with Satoru beside you and Satoshi nestled in his crib, you whispered, “Thank you for being here, Satoru. For all of us.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with love and a hint of mischief. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, darling. You and the children are my world.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Even if your cookies are terrible?”

He laughed softly, pulling you closer. “Even then. But don’t worry, I’ll keep practicing. One day, I’ll get it right.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you kissed him gently. “I’m sure you will. But until then, we’ll just enjoy the burnt ones together.”

Satoru chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Sounds like a plan, my darling.”

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of your sleeping children and the gentle cadence of your husband’s heartbeat, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your family would face them together. And with Satoru’s unwavering love and determination, you were certain that your home would always be filled with laughter, warmth, and the sweetest memories.

You wanted more of Gojo Satoru.

You wanted everything of him.

You wanted more of him in this life.

You can't hold enough of him, you think.

You can't hold enough of him in your hands.

[tozettastone]

So… akatsuki ranked by hugging capabilities when?

Okay. That's a good one. I'll answer that one.

--

10. Zetsu

Zetsu doesn't know what's happening and he might digest you. I would say he does not have hugging capabilities.

9. Kakuzu

Absolutely not. This man trusted someone one time to try it out and he has looked upon that moment with profound regret ever since. He does not do well with physical affection.

Do not hug Kakuzu. Do not make physical contact with Kakuzu. Honestly, if at all possible, do not even make eye contact with Kakuzu.

8. Konan

Konan is as distant as a statue until she has committed herself to a goal. She disdains most social bonds, and I don't think she hugs often even among people she regards as close. I think she is wary of obligation because she takes obligations very seriously. If someone takes comfort from her, what will they want next?

She will offer an arm to Nagato on a bad day, but he usually refuses anyway. Extremely low hugging capabilities.

7. Nagato

Nagato would certainly benefit from hugging but I see no indication that his hugging capabilities are especially developed. Besides, he's kind of immobilised, and the animated corpses he's piloting aren't exactly comfortable participants.

I think he and Konan were both much, much better at this before Yahiko's death. Very low hugging capabilities.

6. Tobi

Tobi is absolutely 100% capable of hugging properly. He scores highly in hugging capability. Technically. But, one, I think you will not be very good at actually landing a hug on this man. And, two, if you do, he's dissociating because he can't confront other people's positive regard for him, and your body is so much meat to him.

On the balance of probabilities, this is more likely safe to attempt than not. Tobi is more amused by making fun of people than killing them for touching him. But I just don't think hugging Tobi is, like, very productive.

5. Sasori

This one's interesting, because Sasori has actually practiced hugging — with his parents' corpses, right? As with all skills, practice helps you perform better! But I don't think Sasori has a very good relationship with his own body and I don't think he views other people as particularly more agential than the dead bodies.

So I'm ranking him somewhere in the middle: no natural hugging gifts, some practice, very little inclination to participate. Don't hug Sasori, because if you get that close at all, something is already very wrong.

4. Deidara

Deidara appears to be among the most socially normative of this cohort. I imagine he has, at some point, had at least one affectionate kohai among the Rock ninja he left behind. However, as an adult (uh, as a... teen over the age of ninja majority, anyway) Deidara appears highly suspicious of people attempting to initiate contact with him.

Moderate hugging capabilities, but if he thinks you're tricking him or you're being too familiar for the strictly defined relationship category you occupy in Deidara's head, you're going to be rebuffed. It won't be fatal... the first time.

3. Hidan

Hidan is an athletic guy who's used to feeling what other people are feeling and getting up close and personal with their physical experiences of their bodies. I really think Hidan is among the better huggers in this cohort. Capabilities genuinely pretty strong.

That said, hugging Hidan is a gamble. Either you get a bone-creaking squeeze from someone who is tall, warm, and has absolutely no issues with physical contact, or you end up dead. You would be rolling the dice on this one. Remember: eventually, the house always wins.

2. Kisame

Kisame does not have a lot of practice at exercising his hugging capabilities. Most people don't look at a giant shark man with a face full of razor sharp teeth and a sword as big as a teenager and think, 'ah, yes, a perfect source of physical affection.'

But I think as long as you don't startle him with any sudden movements he will respond to being hugged by very carefully lowering his arm over his hugging buddy's shoulders. It's weird but he's not mad. Pretty safe option.

1. Itachi

Itachi is not great at hugging but people who receive Itachi hugs are so impressed that they hardly notice. Also, it's pretty safe to hug Itachi: the worst outcome is that you discover you're hugging an illusion and feel mildly humiliated while everyone is impressed you even attempted such a feat.

He ranks this highly because I sincerely believe that as a big brother, he has attempted to hug at least one other (live) human being before. Sasuke might not have been old enough to remember it, but he's done it successfully and nobody died.

[toournextadventure]

movie night pt iii

Summary: Third time's a charm, and you finally get Tara. Well. You kind of get Tara.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, smut (cunnilingus, fingering), mention of scars, vague gun mention, violence Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)

“Come on, Danny, help me out,” you pleaded as you continued to peel potatoes as aggressively as you possibly could.

Danny sighed and placed the ladle down before leaning his hip against the counter. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to put up with your shit, but you didn’t care. He was supposed to be helping you! If he hadn’t wanted to help you for the rest of your lives then he wouldn’t have given you a place to stay when your last roommate got you both evicted.

“I can’t help you plan a date,” he said with another sigh. “That’s up to you.”

“I helped you with Sam,” you said, pointing the knife at him menacingly. Okay, maybe not so menacing, but you pointed it at him anyway. “The least you can do is help me with her sister.”

“I’m not having you ruin my chances with Samantha,” he said with a raised brow. “If you want to get laid, figure it out on your own.”

“Not once did I mention getting laid,” you grumbled as you quickly went back to peeling.

The kitchen went silent once again as you both continued your predetermined duties. Although you had the itching desire to toss a few potato peels at Danny for refusing to help you. You had helped him so many times in his attempts to win Sam over, and this was how he repaid you? By making you work for it?

It was downright rude and un-American.

“I’m inviting Sam over on Friday night,” Danny said when you finished dumping the pathetically diced potatoes in the pot.

“Stop rubbing it in,” you said.

“I’m not,” he said quickly. “I’m giving you a time you can do something with Tara.”

You looked at him with an expressionless face. What was that supposed to mean? He couldn’t just tell you things like this without giving you context beforehand. What did him inviting Sam over have to do with you doing something with Tara? Nothing, that’s what. Why couldn’t he just-

“-Without getting caught?” He said.

Ohhh.

“You’re a genius, you know,” you said with a smile.

“I know,” he said with a pat on your shoulder.

It didn’t take long after that night to get a hold of Tara and tell her of your fantastic, unstoppable, irresistible plan.

“Absolutely not,” Tara said with a shake of her head.

“I promise you Sam won’t even know,” you insisted. “I’ll be like a thief in the night.”

“That’s not as cool as you think it is,” she said with a single raised brow.

“I never said I was cool,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Just let me come over on Friday.”

“And what are you going to do if Sam catches you?” Tara asked as she came to a stop at the corner of the street. “I don’t think she’ll be so nice a second time.”

“She won’t catch me,” you said with a shrug. “And if she does then she can go all Loomis on me.”

Tara gave you the most unimpressed look you thought you had ever seen in your life.

“This is why she hates you,” she said.

“And she thinks I’ll get us killed,” you pointed out.

“You do know you’re not making your point, right?”

“Just say yes!” You practically whined, even going so far as to stomp your foot like a petulant child for good measure.

“Fine,” Tara huffed. “You can come over on Friday.”

“Yay,” you said in a surprisingly normal tone with a little smile. “It’s a date.”

“Not a date,” she defended before starting to walk away. “And stop being weird about it!”

“See you soon, bestie!” You called out, laughing to yourself when you saw Tara’s tiny hand raise just enough to flip you off over her shoulder.

Friday evening simultaneously came too soon, and not soon enough. You had gotten all the ingredients you would need, Quinn had agreed to stay out for the night, and you were more than prepared. Physically, at least. But mentally, you were a wreck. It was a guaranteed night alone with Tara, but what if she didn’t actually like you all that much? What if it was too much alone time and she realised just how incredibly annoying you were?

What if Sam was right about hating you?

Oh god, Sam was probably right.

No, you shook the thoughts out of your head when you approached the stairwell to Tara’s apartment. It was 15 minutes after Danny was supposed to gather Sam, so there was little chance of getting caught. All you had to do was get to the apartment, have the perfect date (again), and get the girl.

You got this in the bag.

“Why do you look so focused?”

Your smile fell when the door opened before you could knock. Tara was standing in the doorway in the shirt she had stolen from you just the other week. Just like that day, she looked stunning. The shirt hung just a little too low and was just a little too big and oh. Oh, maybe you just liked seeing her in your clothes.

Oh no.

“Are you gonna come in, or just stand there looking like an idiot?” Tara asked, drawing you out of the staring that you had inevitably been doing.

“Obviously I’m coming in,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back and pushed past her into the apartment. “You want dinner, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I trust you to cook,” she said before you heard the door close behind you.

You dropped your bag on the kitchen floor. “I’m a phenomenal cook, just you wait and see.”

“As long as it’s better than your movie taste,” she said when she plopped herself into the chair at the table.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a brat?” You asked, turning around from your unpacking just long enough to meet her eyes. Her stunning, hypnotising eyes. Focus!

“You, actually,” she said with a shrug. A nonchalant shrug that would have been believed if you didn’t see the slightest crinkle at the corner of her eyes.

“Just for that, I’m poisoning your food,” you said as you very nearly pointed the knife at her. But the way her eyes darted to the knife then back at you had you reconsidering. You gave her a soft smile instead and turned back to the counter.

Conversation flowed easily while you prepped and cooked. Mostly about movies, occasionally about school, even more rarely about life outside both of those topics. At one point Tara even went and grabbed her laptop to put on one of her new favourites; something called Pearl. Just the start of it told you it wasn’t going to be your favourite but the excitement on her face as she watched it was more than enough for you.

“Here,” you said softly before placing a plate in front of Tara, who was very much still into the movie. She looked up at you and gave you a quiet “thank you” before looking back down at the movie.

It didn’t take much longer before the end credits started to roll and Tara sat back in her chair with a smug grin. She had barely picked at her food and looked like she was about to prove something. About the movie, about your cooking, about you. Though you didn’t really care because the absolute relaxation on her face was worth every moment of your life.

“What did you think?” She asked, finally looking at you with that half-smirk that she did when she was feeling a little too confident.

“It was good,” you bluffed. Effortlessly, you might add.

“Oh yeah?” You nodded. “Then what was your favourite part?” Fuck. “The part with the scarecrow, or the gunfight?”

Okay, maybe she was calling your bluff. Maybe you hadn’t paid attention to the movie even in the slightest. All you knew was it was a horror movie, and that was only because it was almost the only genre Tara watched. But you could be forgiven for not paying attention when she was right there looking like a complete snack. Fuck a snack, she looked like the whole damn meal!

Time to make a choice.

“Definitely the gunfight,” you said with a decisive nod.

“Really?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

“Y- uh, yeah,” you nodded again. Too many times, in fact. “It was hella dope.”

“Hella dope, huh?” Tara asked, now with raised brows.

She stared at you, searching through your very soul for what, you had no idea. And for a moment you thought you could see into hers. See through those dark brown eyes and into the trauma and love that she undoubtedly was desperate to show. But the longer she stared, the more your skin started to crawl, and you bit your bottom lip for a second before breaking eye contact.

“There was no gunfight, was there?”

“Oh absolutely not.”

“I can explain.”

“Lay it on me.”

You opened your mouth to tell her some bullshit excuse; why would you openly admit you were too busy staring at her instead of the movie? That she was the reason you hadn’t even cooked properly, because you were so entranced by everything about her. The way she leaned forward at the good parts, or the scrunch of her nose when there was excessive gore, or her eyes darting back and forth across the screen. It would be so much simpler just to tell her you didn’t care for the movie because it was subpar and the score was mediocre.

But then she lifted her hand to rest her chin on it, and you caught sight of the scar on her hand, and your mind started racing. She had been so hesitant to let you see any part of her because, and this was your assumption, of the scars she had. You knew she had them, she was painfully aware, but that didn’t mean she wanted you to see them. Insecurity, maybe, and yet you were still going to deprive her of something that not only did she probably need to hear, but that you were desperate to tell her?

“I-.” You cleared your throat. “I was thoroughly distracted by how stunning you look.” Tara’s face fell into one of disbelief. “And I liked watching your reactions far more than the movie itself.”

“You’re so full of shit,” she said with a shake of her head and a move to stand up. “If you didn’t like the movie you can just say so.”

“I’m serious,” you defended, quickly following suit and standing up from the table right alongside her. She was already making her way to the living room. “Tara, wait.”

“Tell me you didn’t like it,” she said without turning around, “but don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying- just stop moving.”

You reached out to grab her arm, as gently as you could yet still able to get her to stop moving. It broke your heart when you heard her breath caught in her throat at the move, but she still turned around nonetheless. There was something in the look she was giving you, something both terrified and hopeful.

“I’m not lying,” you said, lifting your hand slowly to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful, Tara.”

“You think so?” She asked, her gaze holding your own.

“Yeah,” you said with a small nod and your eyes falling to her slightly parted lips. “Yeah I do.”

“Then show me,” she said softly.

And oh how that look in her eyes could smother you under the weight of everything they were trying to say. But she didn't need to say anything, not when you leaned down and brushed your lips against hers. She wasted no time in pulling you the rest of the way with her arms around your neck; she half tasted of the cheap wine you had brought. The other half tasted of hope.

You let Tara take the lead, pulling you with her until the back of her knees hit the couch and she fell onto it, bringing you with her. The jolt caused your teeth to clack against hers and you both couldn't stop the small laughs from bubbling up. Her hushed laugh fanned across your face and for a moment you weren't on a third attempted date. You were in your own apartment with a movie in the background and half drunk beers on the table as your soul entangled itself with hers.

Tara's hands trailed down from your neck, across your chest and down your stomach until sliding under your shirt, nails lightly raking across your skin to cause a shiver. You could feel her smile against your lips as she did it again, only stopping when you nipped at her bottom lip before kissing her again.

"Take it off," she whispered as she tugged on the bottom of your shirt.

"There's no rush," you said with a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"My shirt always comes off first," she said a little more forcefully. "It's your turn."

"Impatient," you grumbled but still sat up on your knees, practically straddling Tara's small frame.

You could feel her eyes boring into you, watching you with bated breath as you grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled it over your head. It wasn't the sexiest way to undress, closer to the way a frat boy would do it, but it got the job done. Once the shirt was off and in your hands you looked around, at a complete loss of where to put it. It wasn't your apartment, you couldn't just toss it somewhere!

"Just get rid of it already," Tara said, her hands quickly finding their way to your waist.

"I don't want to make a mess," you said with a frown. "I'll fold it, one sec."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes I’m ser-"

"-oh my god."

Tara quickly took the shirt from your hand and threw it over the back of the couch. You tried to find where it had landed but felt those small hands on your waist pull you forward, making you lose your balance and fall forward until you were face to face with a smirking Tara once again. God she was irresistible- you meant irritating!

"That's better," she said, her eyes shamelessly trailing over your now exposed body.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," you said with a raised brow.

"The lights are on," she said, a little softer, almost even hesitant.

"Here," you said just as softly, "I'll show mine first."

"What do you-"

Her words fell off as you sat up and twisted enough to show her the scar between your shoulder blades. It wasn't as deep as hers had been, certainly no stab wound, but it was nice and visible. And just showing her at that moment was enough to make you realise that oh, oh that was how she felt about her own.

"What happened?" She asked. You felt her fingers brush lightly against the skin. Unlike hers, there was no feeling in the dead tissue.

"I was at a protest a few years ago and it got violent," you said with a shrug. "Some prick decided to use lethal rounds."

"Holy shit," you heard her whisper as she sat up, her hands still tracing the large area of scar tissue. You couldn't feel it, but just the thought had you shivering under her touch.

"So see?" You said, finally turning back around to look at her now that she was much closer again. "It ain't no thing."

You kept looking at her as you let yourself fall back to the couch, now sitting with your legs tangled with Tara's. She wasn't looking at you, more looking at the spot right beside you, and you started to wonder if you had done the wrong thing. You hadn't been trying to say her injuries and trauma weren't anything significant; they were and you respected it. Fuck, maybe you shouldn't have shown her, you didn't want her to-

-with the utmost hesitancy, her hands fiddled with the hem of her shirt for only a moment before she pulled it over her head, tossing it behind the couch much like she had yours. But instead of just letting you look, she crossed her arms over her stomach and refused to look at you.

“Hey,” you said softly as you reached out to brush your thumb against her bottom lip. Finally she looked at you with wide eyes. “Lay down and close your eyes.”

She opened her mouth to say something - probably to argue - but closed it and nodded once. Her eyes fell closed first before she let herself lean back on the couch, her arms still wrapped around your stomach. You waited until she got herself comfortable before making your move.

With the gentleness of someone holding glass, you lifted Tara’s hands and rested them on the couch. The muscles of her stomach twitched from the lack of warmth and you could see her eyes clench tighter, but she let you do it. You left one hand on hers, turning it around so you could hold it while you finally looked down on her.

She was no less beautiful than you had believed. If anything, she was even more so. Her tanned, lightly freckled skin was soft and unbearably warm under your touch. It was marred only by the myriad of scars littering her body, each one telling a different story. Some frenzied, some shallow, some deep, all of them holding a trauma that you couldn’t ever imagine.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered more to yourself than to her.

Your eyes were still studying the scars, leaving a mixture of feelings swirling in your gut. A sadness for the trauma inflicted, for the lingering effects that Tara would never be able to get rid of whether she wanted to or not. But also an anger that you knew if you allowed it, would set an inferno in your chest that would grow until you combusted.

Tara squeezed your hand lightly and you quickly looked back up to see her eyes open and focused on you. Her eyes were still wide, but they didn’t look quite so fearful anymore. No, they almost looked curious, maybe even happy if you were going to push it. Why would she look at you like that? Did she still not believe you?

But then her other hand grabbed you by the belt and pulled you forward until you were on top of her again. You barely had time to catch yourself before she pulled you down the last little bit, holding you in a kiss that was different from the others. It wasn’t as desperate or mindless; there was emotion behind it.

“Help me take these off,” Tara mumbled against your lips. You looked down briefly before quickly doing a double take when you saw her pushing her shorts down her hips.

“Wait wait, what about foreplay?” You asked as you locked eyes with her.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her hands stilling in their movements.

“Foreplay is no joking matter, Carpenter,” you said with a raised brow. “It has many uses-”

“-do you want me to get too in my head and stop?” She interrupted you. “Or do you want to fuck me?”

“You’re so bold,” you whispered without a care if she heard you or not.

“Well?”

“This feels like a trick question.”

“Y/N.”

“Okay okay,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you sat up and yanked her shorts past her hips and down her legs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You talk way too much,” Tara said as you settled yourself and threw one of her legs over your shoulder. “Has anyone ever- fuck.”

Her eyes fell shut as you instantly licked a single broad strip, adding a bit more pressure once you reached her clit. The hand still holding yours squeezed when you left a few kitten licks on her clit, just testing the waters. If she was going to rush you, then you were going to find out what made her tick. No better time like the present, right?

The slow, broad licks made her let out light, breathy moans. Her body would sink further into the couch and she would almost seem to relax. But then the fast licks on her clit had her thighs shaking and her back arching and her breathing quicken. She wouldn’t moan, but she would tense up and you could almost hear a whine stuck in her throat.

And when you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked lightly? Oh, now that was what pulled the most delicious sounds from her lips. You did it again, feeling her thighs press against your head and keep you still, when you finally put your free hand to good use. Slowly so as to give her time to push you away or tell you no, you teased a single finger against her entrance.

“Please,” Tara whined, and you looked up to see her eyes still clenched shut and her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath.

“Please what?” You asked. It took everything in you not to laugh when she groaned, a frown suddenly appearing on her face.

“Please just fuck me alre- christ,” she interrupted herself when you slid that single finger inside her.

There was no time to tease her about it, not when you were absolutely mesmerised by the sight of your finger sliding in and out of her, already completely coated in her arousal. Had you really gotten her so worked up? You supposed so, but that didn’t make it any less hypnotising, especially when you could feel just how tight and wet she was.

“Fuck, Tara,” you mumbled as you added a second finger.

“Don’t tease,” she said with a huff.

Well, how could you say no to such a request from such a pretty girl? You continued your movements as you leaned back down, now focusing all your attention on her clit. Those short, targeted licks mixed with the curling of your fingers had her gripping your hand like it was her lifeline. You could vaguely hear some sort of ringing in the background but chalked it down to Tara’s thighs squeezing around your ears.

She was well and thoroughly wound up when you wrapped your lips around her clit again, sucking lightly and flicking your tongue in just the right way to have her thighs shaking. All you had to do was add one more curl of your fingers and she came undone beneath you, a mix of moans, your name, and expletives leaving her mouth as you continued your ministrations, helping her ride out her orgasm for as long as possible.

You waited until her grip on your hand lightened before you stopped, slowly pulling your fingers out of her before licking them clean, doing your best to maintain composure at her taste, which you swore you could get drunk off of. Something rang again, but you still paid it no mind. After all, how could you when the girl of your dreams was underneath you with sweat-coated skin and a blissed out look in her droopy eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” you said, your eyes trailing over her once again.

“Just shut up and-” something rang again, “-Oh my god.” Tara practically pushed you off of her as she rolled over and grabbed her phone off the floor. “What do you want, Sam?”

Oh shit, you thought as you sat up quickly. Did she know you were there? No, she couldn’t, she was supposed to be with Danny and you knew they were fucking. They were both secret horndogs, there was no way they had stopped long enough for Sam to figure out that you were in her apartment.

“Sam, slow down,” Tara said, her brows now furrowed. “What’s going on?”

You looked out the living room window just in time to see Sam and Danny looking in. Fuck. With a sigh, you got up and went to the window, looking out at them and giving them an embarrassed smile. At least you were still covered; that had to count for something, right?

But Sam and Danny didn’t wave back. They were gesturing and shouting and they looked borderline frantic. What were they so worried about? Tara shuffled around and quickly stood beside you, now covered by your shirt that hung just low enough to hide that she wasn’t wearing pants.

“If this is about Y/N being here then I’m not-”

“-behind you!”

You turned around at Sam’s frantic screaming and let out your own yelp as a large, shiny knife sliced through the air. Adrenaline rushed through your body the same as it had that night at the protest, and everything slowed down. You pushed Tara aside, vaguely aware of her tripping over a table as you yourself stepped back, the intruder flailing forward.

He got up and turned around, looking this way and that to find his target. The moment his body turned to face Tara, your mind was only focused on one thing. One thought repeating itself over and over and over. His knife-wielding hand lifted.

You didn’t bother looking around for the best thing to use; you just grabbed the closest thing to you and lifted it above your head. He was taller than you, but that didn’t stop you from bringing it down on his head as hard as possible. The item shattered and he fell back to the ground in a comical fashion.

“Come on,” you said as you darted forward, grabbing Tara by the hand and pulling her along with you.

“Wait, we need to stop him-”

“-Get moving,” you interrupted, throwing her apartment door open and shoving her in front of you.

You didn’t give her the chance to stop as you practically pushed her down the stairs, acutely aware that you didn’t have her inhaler. Surely she would be okay until the police arrived and you could go grab it from her room. What was more important was keeping her alive, out of the apartment, and that lunatic away from her.

“Tara!”

Sam and Danny were already outside when you pushed Tara out of the apartment building, barely noticing her stumble down the stoop until she was safely secure in Sam’s arms. You spun around, tripping on your own feet as you looked at the front door, waiting for someone to come out. You hoped he would; you dared him to.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, his hand on your shoulder and trying to turn you.

“Was he watching us?” Tara asked, a sob audibly caught in her throat.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Sam said through her own tears.

He hadn’t come down the stairs yet. There was nowhere else for him to go. He wasn’t going to get away.

“Hey,” Danny said again.

The air tasted metallic.

“Y/N!”

Large hands grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to turn away from the door, now facing Danny. There was a fear in his eyes that you didn’t think you had ever seen before. Why was he afraid? You had it handled, you were going to kill the fucking bastard and keep Tara safe and-

“-you’re bleeding,” Danny said.

You furrowed your brows at the same time Tara fell silent. No you weren’t, you hadn’t even gotten hurt. It must have been that lunatic’s blood, you had brained him pretty good. He hadn’t even touched you, that was impossible.

But you followed Danny’s eyes and saw a new wound on your bicep, leaking enough blood to signify a decent wound. When had that happened?

“The police and paramedics are on the way,” Sam said as Tara wormed her way out of her arms.

“Are you okay?” Tara asked as she lifted her hands to your arm, stopping just before she touched you.

You met her eyes and felt your heart drop as you saw every emotion known to man cross her eyes. Anger, fear, desperation, worry, a mix of everything. With a slow, deep exhale, you reached out and pulled her into a hug, ignoring the way your bicep screamed at the strain as the adrenaline started to fade and everything came back into focus.

Ghostface had attacked you and Tara in her own apartment.

He was supposed to be dead.

Ghostface had attacked you and Tara.

[geesenoises]

DnD: dungeons and draco

for @quail-in-red. this is just further proof that if anybody shows even the slightest interest in one of my dumb jokes, i crumble and perform like a silly jester at once. based on this post i made last year and rediscovered today about hp wizards playing DnD.

Dean didn’t give a lot of details when he invited Harry to his weekly dungeons and dragons game, but the last person Harry expected to see at the table was Draco Malfoy.

“We started a game together when we were, er,” Dean trailed off.

“When we were prisoners in Draco's house!” Luna finished for him brightly.

Malfoy didn’t say anything, just met Harry’s eyes stolidly and then went to fuss with the small pile of papers and cards in front of him.

Harry shared a look with Ron, who was already sitting between Dean and Hermione, and then sighed inwardly and took the last remaining seat between Seamus and Luna. He pulled out the premade character sheet Dean had owled him last week. It was wrinkled from having nearly been lost in a pile of post and then hastily shoved in Harry’s pocket before flooing to Dean’s flat. 

Harry looked around the table. Malfoy’s stack of papers was bigger than anyone else’s, even Hermione’s. And why did he have so many cards? There was a little wooden tray in front of him too. The dice in the tray looked iridescent, catching and reflecting the light. Trust Malfoy to have expensive poncy accessories. Why was he even here? Did he even like DnD? He’d grown up around magic his whole life; what did he need to pretend for?

“And so let’s go around and introduce our characters,” Dean finished. Harry had missed his whole introduction. “Since Draco and Luna have played before, we’ll start with them.”

Malfoy straightened up a little, carefully picking up his character sheet even though it seemed like he was so familiar with it, he didn’t need to reference it. “I’m Mike, a level three call center operator. I’m twenty-three years old, originally from Essex and just moved to London. I played football in uni, but am feeling less fit now that I have a job where I sit all day.”

Luna went next and spoke in a surprisingly deep voice. “My name is Archie, and I’m a level six IT consultant. I’m forty-six years old, originally from Norwich, but I moved to London for uni and never left. I’ve been married to my wife, Evelyn, for twenty years and we have two children and a cocker spaniel named Rosa.”

Harry stared down at the character sheet in front of him. He hadn’t looked at it before grabbing it in his rush to get here on time. It told him he was meant to be playing Grace, a 29 year old paramedic who’d grown up in London and recently broken up with her fiance after finding out he had cheated on her. She had a cat named Pomegranate. Harry didn’t know much about tabletop games, but there had been a group of kids that Dudley’s gang would sometimes target instead of Harry who had played. And what he’d overhead from their games didn’t sound anything like this.

“Hang on, these are just normal people; we’re all humans with muggle jobs. I thought we were playing dungeons and dragons, you know, with magic involved.”

Malfoy glared at him. “Weren’t you paying attention, Potter? Dean just explained the premise of our campaign.”

Harry didn’t want to admit to Malfoy he’d been too busy wondering what his dice were made of. He looked away from Malfoy to Dean. “Er, sorry. I was… distracted.”

Dean sighed but looked more resigned than irritated at having to explain again. “When I started the game with Draco and Luna, they got confused by the magic system because actual magic doesn’t work the way it does in DnD, so I made up a slightly different game we could play. We’re a group of Londoners in a recreational dodgeball league.”

“And honestly, Harry, it doesn’t feel right pretending to be of magical creature heritage for a game,” Hermione added. “Think of what kind of hurtful stereotypes we could fall into.”

“Okay…” Harry said slowly. It still felt strange, but now that he thought about it, he supposed he didn’t need to spend his Thursday evenings pretending to be part of a group camping out and hunting evil. Once per lifetime was enough without having to do it recreationally in the realm of imagination.

Harry smoothed out his character sheet again and introduced the group to Grace.

not sure if there will be more, but we're all shipping mike/grace right?

[ao3cassandraic]

What does Aziraphale know and when does he know it? Part 4: The Aftermath

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3, for those who need them.

After Crowley strides out, Aziraphale has a lot going on in his head still, and it shows on his poor devastated angry (he is angry, just a bit) face.

Then the Metatron comes back in, and Zira has to turn sharply away to pull himself back into some kind of kayfabe. "How did he take it?" the Metatron asks cheerfully, despite already knowing because he was watching. Jehoshaphat, y'all, I thought s1!Gabriel was punchable -- I want to drop the Metatron into Earth-core magma like Gollum at this point!

Aziraphale's heroic efforts at kayfabe are pretty successful, on the whole, but it hurts to see him stiff as a board, arms at his sides, letting the Metatron (argh, so punchable) insult Crowley and laughing nervously. Then the Metatron starts forcing him out the door again with "Right, ready to start?" The presumptuous wretch doesn't even wait for a yes -- just assumes it!

Aziraphale, however, knows he never said yes, so he tries playing for -- anything, really, more information or some kind of choice (arc word! arc! word!) or anything at all. No dice; the Metatron highhandedly gives his bookshop (his. BOOK. SHOP.) to Muriel. Aziraphale now knows why the Metatron wanted Muriel to stay behind on Earth, and he also knows that the Metatron will stop at nothing and trample anyone to get what he wants. Not comforting knowledge, that.

And Aziraphale, having essentially no more choice (I repeat: arc word!), but still horribly torn because he never got to make a decision about the job offer, still doesn't have a Metatron-thwarting plan, and wants Crowley with all his mind and heart, blurts "I think I --" Then he drops back into kayfabe, following the extremely punchable Metatron out the door.

Crowley's still there, standing by the Bentley. All our hearts shatter. But the extremely punchable Metatron (have I mentioned that he is extremely punchable?) keeps Aziraphale moving along by dropping hints at answers to his continuing questions: whatever the Metatron's up to, it's something to do with the Great Plan.

Aziraphale asks. And now that he's firmly in the Metatron's clutches, the Metatron answers: it's the Second Coming.

Watch Aziraphale drop kayfabe (fortunately, the Metatron isn't looking at him) for a look of helpless dismay. A.Z. "entire collection of Bibles, wicked and otherwise" Fell knows what that means! Watch him re-establish kayfabe when the Metatron looks at him from the elevator. Watch him turn back toward Crowley to tell him (unnecessary -- Crowley knows from his visit Upstairs -- but Aziraphale doesn't know Crowley knows), then decide (with another of those pulling-himself-together deep breaths) that he must instead play along. Watch him kayfabe-smile at the Metatron and enter the elevator.

And watch kayfabe warring with devastation and guardianly determination in Aziraphale's face over the credits. My read -- you may have a different one -- is that determination wins, and the eventual smile is an "okay, now I have a plan" smile.

Watch out, Metatron. Aziraphale's gonna wreck you and I'm gonna enjoy it.

-------------------------------------------

This interpretation of the Final Fifteen Minutes is parsimonious. It works with what's there onscreen, not assuming much beyond that -- the only Caveat About Offscreen Shenanigans I left in was to note that we don't necessarily see the entire chinwag. Exactly zero of the twistier, more elaborate fan theories, you may have noticed, made it into this meta -- heck, we don't even have to assume we didn't see the entire chinwag! We might have! What we did see was enough to lead to these outcomes!

The Gaiman-Pratchett-Finnemore brain trust likes jigsaw-puzzle plots where everything has its place and little or nothing is wasted. That's a big reason I think a parsimonious interpretation is likely to be close to a true interpretation. It's all there; why get wild if there's no need to?

This also aligns with what Michael Sheen has said (do please read this not-mine meta, it's lovely) about angels and goodness and making choices. I, too, want Aziraphale to have made the hard, hurting, noble choice at last, even if he was partly railroaded into it.

(Anyone who doesn't care for fan theories should stop reading now, with my effusive gratitude for making it this far.)

That said, the explosion of fan theories about the Final Fifteen Minutes also demonstrates that this interpretation is narratively accommodating. It doesn't have to assume poisoned or drugged coffee, but it doesn't preclude that. It doesn't require a body swap, but it allows it -- all that really has to change is the estimation of who's doing how much kayfabe when. It doesn't need some massive season-spanning conspiracy arc, but if there is one, it can make that work.

Neil knows fandom, none better. He knows we love our meta and our theories. So I have no trouble believing he wrote us a narratively accommodating finale so we could get our book-length Tumblr posts on. Appreciate it, and you, Neil.

[morganbritton132]

You said that you did not have tiktok, so you have likely not seen it but there is this series called roll for sandwich in which this guy makes a list if ingredients (like a list of types of bread that he has, vegetables, roughage, sauces, wild magic, etc) and each option has a number, so he rolls DnD dies and randomly makes sandwiches and rates them

Very popular, it has inspired a lot of spin-offs, people love it. He always starts with “Hello DnD tiktok and beyond, welcome to roll for sandwich a series were we let fate decide our lunch” it’s great.

My point is, Eddie would definitely do something like that but with one of his many hobbies and post it on TT.

I have not seen this, but I do love the concept. I do think I might’ve seen a spin-off though because my sister sent me a video of a girl using a d20 to decide which chore she was going to do next, and I can definitely see that one being used in the Harrington/Munson household.

Every summer begins with a deep clean.

Steve shampoos all the carpet. He pressure-washes their driveway. He declutters the entire top floors of their house. Eddie, if he is a smart man, cleans his studio.

Eddie is not always a smart man.

He gets distracted, or bored, or he just doesn’t want to do it, but this year, he’s determined. He makes a list of everything he needs to do and everything that he wants to do, and then he numbers it. He even starts a live-stream to give him more incentive to stay on task, and it works for a while.

He rolls the dice and gets a 4. He changes the burnt out lightbulb in the overhead light.

He rolls the dice and gets a 17. He dusts and reorganizes their record collection.

He rolls the dice, gets a 11. He paints the sword on his latest miniature.

He rolls the dice, gets a 9. He moves the couch to get the guitar picks that have fallen under it.

He rolls a 15, takes a break, gets distracted by a box of old tour memorabilia.

The chat is not helpful with getting him back on track because they are more interested in the stack of postcards that Eddie pulled out of the box. They need more than Eddie saying that Steve kept every postcard he sent him, especially when he looked at one of them and said, “Ha! In this one, I asked him to send me some dirty pictures. If I remember correctly, he did.”

An hour later, Eddie’s like, “Maybe I should get back to cleaning.”

He rolls again, scores a 20. Eddie looks at his list and reads, “Do something you want to do.”

He thinks about it for a second and then reaches under the couch and pulls out some ancient looking walkie-talkie, “Eddie to Stevie, do you copy?”

Eddie releases the button, waits a second, and then repeats himself. He does this a few times before he gets back, “What do you want, Eddie?”

“Wanna fuck?” Eddie asks. “Over.”

There’s a long pause and then Steve says over the line, “Did you vacuum?”

Eddie, who did not do that, says, “Yep.”

“Okay,” Steve says eventually. “Come up here.”

Eddie smiles brightly and tosses the walkie back down on the couch, before taking the stairs two at a time. The room descends in silence and then you hear static from the walkie followed by Dustin’s voice saying, “If you’re going to make a booty call, use your own frequency. Over.”

[leclsrc]

happy 3k mother! "quick speaking" and "animated" for dad!charles? thank you!

first words – cl16

Your daughter says her first word, but you’re the only one that seems to think so.

“Omygod omygod omygooood!”

The squeal from down the hall gradually grows louder as you bound into the living room, facing a roomful of your friends. You wave your phone around, where you’ve just hung up on your daughter’s babysitter, hopping up and down. “You guys, you’re not going to believe this. Felicite’s babysitter put her on the phone, and while I was saying goodnight, she said her first word!”

The game of Monopoly (you all wish you were cool enough for poker) ceases and Lily and Isa sit straighter, excitement drawn bright all over their faces. The seat directly in front of you shakes with how quick Charles gets up, smiling dopily. “Are you serious?!”

“Oh, yes! It was—oh, you guys, it was so cute.” You’re speaking so quick you can barely register what you’re saying.

“Okay, okay—ooh, okay, what’d she say?” Isa asks, clapping her hands together and gesturing for you to get to the point faster. 

“She said bloviate!” You exclaim with a flourish of your hands, smiling widely.

The room visibly deflates and the game picks back up instantly. Charles even sits back down.

You frown, mouth hung open in disdain instead of excitement now, huffing quietly as your friends express amusement over your fit of unwarranted thrill. You pout, tapping several times on your fiance’s shoulder. He moves his Monopoly piece out of jail before turning to you.

“Hel-lo? Isn’t that exciting?” You emphasize, humming.

He smiles. “Oui, it’s great, honey.” He turns back to examine his money.

You pat again. “Uh? You don’t sound excited!”

“Oh, I am. I am!” He stands, disengaging himself from the game and turning to you. He places both hands on either side of your waist. “But sweetie, bloviate is not a word.”

“What?” You place your hands around his neck and scoff, laughing. “Um, yes it is?”

“Okay,” he tests slowly, “then what does it mean?”

“I don’t know—hey, you don’t even speak full English, mister.” You roll your eyes. “I’m telling you, Charles, it’s a word.”

“I love you. But it isn’t.” Alex calls for Charles to roll his dice. “Count me out of this round, guys.”

“Sure, we’ll bloviate your money,” Carlos says casually, sipping a beer.

You sputter, wrestling out of Charles’ arms and pointing at Carlos with animated excitement. “See! He just said it! Carlos just said it, it’s a word! Say it again.”

He sips again, inhales a bit. Then smiles. “I was kidding. That word doesn’t exist.”

You groan, flipping him off and turning back to your fiance’s amused, fond face. He presses a sure kiss to the corner of your lip. “It’s so cute, honey, but it really is not a word. M’kay?” He kisses you again for good measure and leaves you standing idly as he resumes his turn.

You nearly can’t believe it—you had all taken this trip with friends to spend a weekend off, and not only do you physically miss Felicite’s first word, but nobody seems to believe it’s a word at all. You huff again. “I’m looking it up, Charles.”

“Honey—”

“Up, up, up!” You silence him. “This is the real deal, guy. You’re about to be proven so wrong. You’re going to wish you stayed on the call a few seconds longer.” You type, frenetic, for a definition on Google and start hollering once you’re given a result. Your verdict is right—it’s a word.

“A-ha!” Charles stands up again, stationing himself beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses your forehead, smiling and shutting his eyes with how adoring he is not only of his daughter, miles away, but of you, giddy over a word that sounded like total gibberish to him just a few seconds ago. Screw it if he’s a bit jealous. Your happiness makes up for it.

“What’s it mean?” Lily asks, rifling through her stack of cash.

“Um, let’s see…” You pause, clearing your throat to read. “‘To speak a lot in an annoying way as if you are very important.’”

Everyone hums and nods, a light round of cheers and applause at the confirmation of Felicite’s first word. You smile up at Charles, slotting your mouths together in a chaste kiss.

“Can we babysit Feli next week?” Alex chimes in. “By the looks of it, you’re leaving her with Max a bit too often.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Big Brown Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You’re a single mom and when you drop your son off at Dustin’s while you go to work, you meet his new friend Eddie. 

Note: So, this really just came about because I wanted cute interactions between both Eddie and Steve with a little boy. I might write more in this verse if people like this?

Warnings: single mom, reader x ex steve, stancy is together, mechanic!eddie, i think that’s it?

Words: 5.6k

[Part 2 | Big Brown Eyes masterlist]

“Hello, you’ve reached the Hendersons. Sorry we missed your call-.”

“Shit,” you mutter. You sigh and rub a hand over your face. You purse your lips in thought and tilt your head from side to side before picking up the phone again. Thankfully, this time there’s a response.

“Hello?”

“Max, hey! Do you know where the goonies are hanging out today? I’m trying to find Dustin,” you say.

“They’re all at his house. None of them would shut up about the campaign at school yesterday. Why? Everything okay?” Max asks.

“Yeah, fine. I just have to head to work and need someone to watch Ev. I know you have the evening shift at the diner tonight or I would’ve asked you.”

“Where’s Steve?” Max asks.

“Out of town for the day with the Wheelers. Holly had a dance recital somewhere near Indianapolis,” you tell her.

“Mike didn’t go,” she says with a snort. “He’s at Dustin’s with the rest of them.”

“What a loving brother,” you deadpan.

“One of the guys can watch Ev. I know for a fact Lucas has no plans tonight so don’t let him try to make any excuses.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say. “Alright, I’ll try the house again. Thanks, Max.”

“No problem.”

With a sigh, you hang up and pick up the receiver again, your finger jamming into the familiar numbers for Dustin’s house.

It rings. And rings. And rings.

“Hey! Hello?” An out of breath Dustin gasps on the other line.

“You all good there?” you ask.

“Oh, hey. Yeah. I’m fine. Was that you who called before? Sorry, it was the final roll of the dice,” he explains, as if that makes it evident why he wouldn’t answer the phone. You can hear the others shouting in the background. You can’t tell if it’s in happiness that they won the campaign, or anger because they failed.

“Uh huh,” you say. “Listen, one of the girls at work called in sick and I said I’d come help out. Could you or one of the boys watch Everett for me, pretty please? It’ll just be for a few hours.”

“Sure, bring him on by. We all know I’m his favorite.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes fondly. There’s no way to deny it, Everett always lights up when he sees his Uncle Dusty Buns.

“Okay, we’ll be there in ten. Thanks, Dustin,” you say.

“Don’t thank me until you get him back in one piece. Bye.”

You chuckle to yourself as you hang up the phone. A squeak sounds behind you and you smirk to yourself at the familiar sound of Everett’s little sneakers hitting the linoleum tile of the kitchen floor. Slowly spinning around on your heel, you catch a pair of big brown eyes staring at you from around the corner. Out of the many things Everett had inherited from Steve, his eyes were what people noticed first. They were nearly identical to his father’s. His hair was also growing similarly, but Everett was still too young to tell if it would be quite as high as Steve’s.

“Is someone spying on me?” you ask.

“Nooooo,” you hear as his tiny head hides back around the corner. His giggling would be enough to give him away even if it weren’t for the scuffling of his feet against the floor.

“I think someone is. I think I was being watched,” you say. You creep around the corner and snatch him up in your arms. The muscles in your arms and back protest at how big and heavy he’s getting.

“By who?” Everett asks innocently. Those damn doe eyes look up at you under thick lashes. It was truly uncanny.

“You, mister!” You dig your fingers into his side, knowing his left is the most ticklish. He squeals and struggles in your grip, trying to break free.

“Mommy, no!” he calls between bouts of laughter.

“Everett, yes!” you answer before peppering kisses all over his face.

He pulls away from your kisses and the two of you look at each other, similar smiles reflecting each other. At least that’s something he got from you. He reaches up to move some hair that’s fallen into your face. It’s more of a smack than a gentle motion, but you know the intention was sweet.

“You’re silly,” he says fondly.

“Oh yeah? Well guess where silly mommy is taking you, Mr. Troublemaker?” you say.

“Toys?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. As if this kid wasn’t spoiled enough by his parents, aunts, uncles, and everyone else who knows him. His obsession with the toy store has stuck with him ever since Karen Wheeler took him there for his third birthday a few months back. You were thankful she watched him as often as she did, and that she spoiled him like her own grandchild, but this obsession was wearing on both your nerves and bank account.

“No,” you say. “Don’t you think you have enough toys? Never mind, don’t answer that, you. Nope, I’m taking you to Uncle Dusty Bun’s.”

Everett’s eyes lit up and he began to bounce in your arms. “Dusty! Dusty!”

More often than not, he called Dustin “Uncle Dusty Bun” in full, but he often reverted to “Dusty” when he was excited or angry. Dustin was never referred to by his actual name by you or Steve when Everett was born, both of you thinking it would be hilarious to give him the nickname instead. Dustin was less than thrilled at first, but the nickname didn’t seem so bad once you asked him to be Everett’s God father as well.

“Yep, come on.” You set Everett down so he can get his little backpack from his room. Whenever Everett went to somebody’s house he packed his favorite toy dinosaur, one of his coloring books, and a handful of crayons with him in his bag.

He runs off, most likely giving the family that lived in the apartment underneath yours a ceiling rattling boom, and you step into the bathroom. Working at the library meant that you didn’t have a uniform you needed to wear. As long as your clothes looked somewhat professional, your hair was neat, and your makeup wasn’t wild, you were good to go. You fix the hair that Everett had swatted and neaten up the rest of it.

Everett jumps into the doorway of the bathroom, blue backpack on and ready to go. “Let’s gooooo!”

“Can’t wait to get away from your mom, huh?” you tease him. You ruffle his dark hair as you pass him, grabbing your purse and keys from the kitchen counter. His loud footsteps echo behind you as you walk to the front door.

“Daddy home?” Everett asks as you’re locking the door behind you.

“Hmm?” you look to Everett who is gazing across the parking lot at the adjoining apartment building where Steve lives. “Oh, no, Daddy isn’t home right now. But he’ll be back by dinner time.”

“Will he make me take a bath?” Everett wrinkles his nose up in distaste as he slips his hand into yours.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” you tell him. You lead him down the stairs to the first floor, Everett jumping with two feet down each step. He hums a song to himself as you walk to the car. Though he hates sitting in it, Everett has become adept at securing his own car seat, which has saved you countless minutes over the past few weeks. “All buckled in?”

He nods to you in your rear-view mirror, and you pull out of the parking lot. It’s not a long ride to Dustin’s but Everett insists on the radio anyway. You weren’t sure when he developed such a love of music, but you’re pretty sure he recognizes more songs on the radio than you do. Love Shack comes on and Everett begins to wiggle in his seat, dancing along to the beat. You were glad the meaning of the song went over his head, and he just enjoys the silly sounds the song makes.

Everett knows the way to Dustin’s and gets more excited the closer you get to his house. He begins to look out the window, straining his neck as if that will help him see his favorite uncle sooner. As you pull up to the Henderson house, you notice a number of cars parked out front. So, the guys were still here.

“Looks like you’re seeing more than just Uncle Dusty Bun,” you tell him as you swing your car into the driveway. You would only be here five minutes; it doesn’t matter if you’re blocking anyone in.

“Who?” Everett asks.

“Let’s go see,” you say, pulling the key out of the ignition.

While your son has no issues getting into his car seat, he hasn’t gotten the hang of unbuckling it yet. He’s grateful when you free him from the confines, hopping out of the car with his little backpack, and running up to the front door. Even on his tiptoes he can’t quite reach the doorbell, so he settles on banging on the door with his little fists instead.

“Easy, Ev,” you say as you come up next to him. You go to press the doorbell but the front door swings open before you get the chance.

“Hey, I thought I heard the little monster out here!” Dustin grins and bends down, letting Everett run into his arms. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Good!” Everett says as he wraps his arms around Dustin’s neck. “Got my dino.”

“Well, of course you do!” Dustin says. He lets go of the boy, who rushes past him into the living room. The loud hum of boys talking reaches you at the door and you nod your head inside.

“Whole crew here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dustin replies. “Oh, wait! Come here, you haven’t met everyone who’s here.”

Dustin closes the door behind you as you step inside. Your brow furrows in confusion as you slip your hands into your back pockets. The house smells like microwaved pizza and like one of the boys is wearing cheap cologne. It’s dark in the house, which makes you roll your eyes, because the boys always insist the room must be dark when playing DND.

“What do you mean? Not just Lucas, Mike, and Will?” you ask.

“We made a new friend,” Dustin says.

“A nerdy friend, I’m guessing,” you mumble under your breath as you follow Dustin into the living room. You can hear Everett babbling to someone, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Besides you and Steve, his favorite people in the world are in this room.

“My sister!” Will cries as he throws his arm over your shoulders. You chuckle to yourself, forgetting when the joke that you were Will’s older sister even started. He’d always been like a little brother to you, so it came naturally enough. You turn your head to look at him and frown when you have to tilt your head up.

“Why are you still growing? You’re already taller than me,” you say.

“Have been for a few years now,” he says with a wink, and you playfully push him off you.

You expect to find Everett either clinging to Mike’s legs or being held in Lucas’s arms, but the two are arguing with each other on the opposite side of the room with no toddler in sight. Everett is never quiet, however, so you just have to turn yourself in the direction of his voice.

“M’not afraid of spiders!” he’s saying. “Spider-man is my favorite!”

Everett is leaning against a fluffy maroon couch cushion, his backpack at his feet, and his eyes focused on the boy sitting next to him. But he is not a boy. He’s a man, your age or maybe a year older. He’s grinning down at your son, the smile knocking the breath from you. You don’t think you’ve ever once swooned in your life, but that’s the best word you think of to describe the feeling. Dark curls fell just past his shoulders and his dark eyes – why did dark eyes haunt you everywhere? – crinkled in the corners as he listened to Everett.

“Yeah? I like spiders, too,” the man says. He adjusts his hand on his lap and the glinting of one of his rings catches Everett’s attention.

“S’pretty,” Everett says. He takes the man’s hand in his own little ones and inspects the different rings he’s wearing. You’re shocked. Everett is usually shy with new people. He’ll barely say hello to a stranger, let alone hold someone’s hand.

“Thank you,” he tells your son. He’s smiling so adoringly at Everett that it quickens your heartbeat even further.

“Eddie,” Dustin calls from behind you. The man picks his head up and looks at Dustin, before turning his gaze on you. He smiles again and you feel pinned in place.

“You must be this wonderful little boy’s mother,” he says. Everett lets go of his hand and walks over to you, hugging one of your legs. Eddie stands up from the couch and steps right in front of you, offering you his hand. “I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie,” Everett repeats down by your legs, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“Y/N,” you tell Eddie. You slip your hand in his and notice the roughness of callouses and the coolness of the rings as he shakes it.

“Eddie works down at the garage,” Dustin says, coming up alongside you. “He noticed the DND bumper sticker on my car when I brought it in the other day. Needless to say, we became fast friends. This was his first campaign with us.”

“You have far more patience than I do,” you tell Eddie. “When I try to play with them, they just yell at me.”

“Well, he actually knows what he’s doing,” Mike quips with a smirk as he walks by you.

“When’s that English paper due, Michael? You know, the one on Pride and Prejudice, which you haven’t even read? Didn’t you want me to help you with that?”

“I take it back!” Mike calls from the kitchen. “I love you!”

You smile to yourself and look back to Eddie, who’s smiling at you the same way he smiled at Everett. It should feel patronizing, to be smiled at the same way that a baby was, but it’s flattering. It’s an adoring smile which floods heat to your cheeks.

“I was going to ask how you put up with these guys, but I see you can handle them no problem,” Eddie says.

“Well, when you work at the library and they come there to study and beg you for help, you tend to have the upper hand,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie chuckles. He pats Dustin on the arm. “I’m heading out. Next Saturday, right?”

“Yeah! Look forward to you being the DM. Mike’s been doing it forever,” Dustin says.

“Heard that!” Mike calls.

Eddie crouches down to be on eyelevel with Everett. “It was nice to meet you, little dude. Can I get a high five?” Everett grins and slaps his hand against Eddie’s. It hardly could have hurt but Eddie shakes his hand out as if stung. “Wow! You’re a strong boy. You must eat all your vegetables.”

Everett looks up at you and grins, proud.

“That he does,” you say, petting along his hair. You crouch down as Eddie stands back up. “You’re going to be good for Uncle Dusty Bun, right?” Out of your peripheral vision you can see the smirk Eddie gives Dustin at the nickname.

“Mhmm,” Everett nods.

“Okay, good. I love you,” you press a kiss to his cheek and pull him into your arms.

He squeezes you back tightly and mumbles a “love you too” against your neck. You stand up and Everett takes Dustin’s hand, already dragging him back to the couch.

“Walk you out?” Eddie asks. He motions for you to head out first, so you do. You open the front door, and he steps out behind you. “He’s a cute kid.”

“Thanks,” you say. The two of you walk to the driveway together and Eddie leans against the van that your car is parked behind.

“But it makes sense, though,” Eddie says. “With a beautiful mom and all.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out from your chest and you look at the ground shyly. You feel the heat go all the way up to the tips of your ears. You’re about to respond by saying he looks more like his dad than he does you, but that might sound like you’re trying to interject Everett’s dad into the conversation as if the two of you are still together.

“Well, thanks,” you say again. You were never particularly good at flirting or being flirted with. Steve often used this to his advantage by flustering you on purpose and the look on Eddie’s face says he might be the kind of guy to do the same thing. “I guess I’m blocking you in. I should get going.”

“Do you often come by here on Saturdays?” Eddie asks as you start to turn away from him. You turn back and give him a smile.

“I’m not here for their DND days. Like I said, I get yelled at. But sometimes Dustin will watch him on Saturdays when I’ve got to head to work. Like today.”

“Libraries are open on the weekends?” Eddie asks.

“Saturday until three, Sunday closed,” you tell him with a shrug. “So, I only have to be there for a little while today.”

“You know, you don’t look like a librarian,” Eddie tells you with a smirk. He crosses his arms over his chest, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I’m not a librarian. I just work there. But out of curiosity, what do librarians look like?” You know you need to leave for work, but you walk over and lean next to Eddie against the van.

He shrugs, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. “You know. Usually old. Hair pulled up in a tight bun on the top of their head. Glasses hanging from a chain around their neck. Old lady sweaters and a permanent scowl on their face.”

You laugh and rest your head back against the van. “You just described my boss pretty well, so you may have a point.” With a sigh, you push yourself off the van. You didn’t want to head to work before, but now you really wish you didn’t have to go. “Um,” you say. You didn’t intend to say anything, but your mouth opened anyway. A lightbulb goes off in your head and you look at Eddie. “Dustin said you work at the garage, right?”

“Sure do.” Eddie nods in confirmation. “The one on Blossom Trail off Highway Eight. Or is it eighteen? I’m new to Hawkins.”

“Oh yeah? Where from?” you ask.

“Over near Evansville. My uncle lives out here, so I thought I’d see what Hawkins is all about,” he says.

“And are you sorely disappointed so far?” you ask with a laugh, gesturing to the quiet, empty street around you.

“Definitely not.” He grins at you again and the butterflies feel as if they may actually bust out of you this time. Eddie watches you get flustered again and you lick over your lips, remembering your initial question for him.

“So, what days do you work this week? I need to bring my car in for an oil change. The light keeps flashing and one of these days the car’s just gonna stop on me altogether.”

“For an oil change?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you, then shakes his head. “Sweetheart, don’t bring your car in for that. I can do that for free. Save your money.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say. Handouts were one thing you consistently tried to avoid since you’d found out you were pregnant. You hated feeling like people felt sorry for you when they didn’t need to. Was being a young mom hard? Yeah, but worth it.

“No, come on,” Eddie says. “They’ll charge you fees and taxes and for the labor when I’ve got the oil sitting right in my shed at home. Really, it’s just sitting there. It’ll go bad if it isn’t used.”

You had no idea if that was actually true or not, but Eddie was gambling that you didn’t have the knowledge to call his bluff one way or the other. Eddie’s pleading eyes are what push you over the edge. It seems impossible that here was another man with beautiful brown eyes who knew how to use them against you.

“Okay,” you finally cave. “Sure. I can bring it by your place.”

“Don’t be silly, I can swing by after work one day. You’re a mom, I’m not going to make you come to me and take time away from your kid.”

The thoughtfulness makes you smile. You motion for Eddie to follow you over to your car. He watches as you bend over into the car – his eyes taking their time – to grab your purse. After rifling through it, you pull out a pen.

“I don’t think I have any paper,” you say. Eddie grins and offers you his hand. You chuckle and take his hand in one of yours. There’s the slightest bit of grease stains under his short nails and his fingers are long, his palm large. You scribble your number onto his palm and stick the pen back in your purse. “I usually get home from work about six-thirty on weekdays and Ev goes to bed around eight.”

“I get home around seven, so that’s perfect timing. I’ll call you soon,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Monday if you want,” he says. “Or tomorrow. Hell, I’d call you tonight.”

The bashful grin on your face only makes Eddie want to flirt with and tease you more. It’s addictive in a way he didn’t know possible.

“I’m not sure what my plans are for tomorrow, so Monday works.”

“Monday it is,” Eddie confirms. “Have fun at work.”

“Bye.” You give him a small wave before getting in your car.

Steve had called you at work to say he was picking up Everett from Dustin’s and they’d be home for dinner. So, when you got home you had a precious hour that could have been spent relaxing, but one look around the apartment and you knew it needed to be used for cleaning. Action figures littered the living room carpet, colored pencils scattered about the coffee table, blocks with numbers and letters on them led down the hallway practically waiting for someone to step on them. It had been a while since you had last vacuumed so you figured you might as well get it over with.

It's in the middle of vacuuming Everett’s room that the front door opened and three people entered. Steve puts his finger to his lips to encourage Everett to be quiet as they creep down the hallway towards you. Nancy reaches out and smacks Steve on the back, telling him not to scare you. He shrugs and pretends that he can’t hear her over the vacuum as he follows Everett towards his room.

Normally, it was hard to sneak up on you. Steve had made it his mission to try and scare you way back before you even started dating. He, evidently, passed this trait along to his son as well. Even the vacuum wasn’t enough to keep you from hearing someone coming up behind you. But your mind was wandering as you pushed and pulled the appliance over the blue carpet. Was Eddie just a flirt in general? Or did he like you? Would he actually call on Monday? Was it a big deal if he didn’t? It was just an oil change, after all.

“Rawr!” Little hands grip your thigh, making you jump and let out a squeal. You cut the power to the vacuum and hear Everett giggling madly to himself and he holds your leg even tighter. “Scared you!” There’s laughter coming from the doorway as well and you turn to find Steve leaning against the doorframe, his arms casually across his chest, as if he had nothing to do with this sneak attack.

“What the f-,” you stutter, “fudge, Steve?”

“How did he get away with that when I never could?” Steve asks, referring to the successful scaring.

“Where’s your babysitter?” you snap back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy says, popping in the doorway behind Steve. “I tried to stop him but I think Everett is more mature.”

You smile at Nancy as you scoop Everett up into your arms. “I don’t blame you one bit, Nancy. You’re the only one around here who doesn’t drive me crazy.”

“Hey!” Steve and Everett say at the same time.

“You,” you say, looking at Everett. “It’s dinner time. What would you like?”

“Daddy wants pizza,” he says.

All eyes turn to Steve as he shrugs innocently. “I have no idea how he knows that.”

“You’re paying.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. You set Everett down to follow his father into the kitchen to call for pizza.

Nancy walks into the room and wraps her arm around your shoulders. “You know he’s never going to let it go that he finally scared you?”

“I know.” You sigh and rest your head against hers.

Nancy was always a friend in high school, but never a close one. After Steve and Nancy broke up and Nancy moved on with Jonathan, Steve eventually found you. Becoming friends to more was easy with Steve, but it came with a catch. It was easy to go on fun dates and spend hours talking with Steve. It was easy to drive the younger teens around Hawkins with him, becoming the “mom” to his “dad” in the group – little did you know that those official titles were soon to come. It was easy to trust Steve because you already had as a friend. It was easy to fall into bed with him because you had always found him attractive and kind. What was hard, though, for both of you, was to fall in love. Being together for almost a year, most people assumed you two were madly in love. You definitely loved each other, but both of you knew deep inside it wasn’t the kind of love you should feel for someone you’re in a relationship with.

It was hard, deciding that the two of you should go back to being friends. You were in agreement that it wasn’t fair to one another to stay in a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. Two weeks after the breakup, in which you two still remained the best of friends, you discovered you were pregnant. Telling Steve was one of the most terrifying moments of your life, though you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t let you do this alone. What you didn’t expect was how helpful Steve’s mom would be. Not only was she supportive of you and Steve deciding to raise the baby as friends, but she used her connections as the most well-known real estate agent in Hawkins to get you and Steve apartments in the same complex.

Nancy had been away at college while you were pregnant, hearing about the news from her brother who was stunned at there being someone who would be referring to him as “Uncle Mike.” When Nancy came home for summer break, she was elated to meet baby Everett. You were still pretty sure Nancy seeing how gentle and sweet Steve was with the newborn is what led them to getting back together – even battling long distance.

Steve was a little worried this might put tension between the two of you girls, but it was the opposite. Nancy became your closest friend, talking to you on the phone almost as much as she talked to Steve. She loved and cared about Everett but never tried to insert herself as a mother figure in his life. Everett loved playing with Nancy, especially when he saw how well she shot a water gun at his dad. Nancy was now home for the summer, having one more year to go at Emerson. Everett had been a little shy around her when she first came home, having not seen her since Spring Break, but he quickly warmed up and showed her every new toy he had gotten since she’d last seen him.

Everett was thrilled that Nancy was staying just in the next building with his dad. It meant they could go outside and play with his water guns anytime he wanted to. It was sweet to see Steve and Nancy with Everett, but it always left a melancholy taste in your mouth. It just reminded you that Nancy was the only person Steve had ever been in love with, and you had never been in love ever.

“You good?” Nancy asks you, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say. She pulls back and gives you a quizzical look. “What?”

“What is that smile on your face?” she asks. You didn’t even realize you had been smiling and immediately wipe it off your face.

“What, I can’t smile?” But you could feel your cheeks turning pink.

“Not like that,” Nancy says. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it sounds unconvincing to both of you. Nancy watches as you unplug the vacuum and wind up the cord. You walk past her to put the vacuum back in the hall closet and she follows behind.

“Something happen at work?” she asks with a smirk. Nancy was never nosey, but she could tell something was going on and she knew she could get you to spill.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” You turn to her and shrug, not quite meeting her eyes.

She smiles at you and reaches out to poke you in the ribs. “Oh, come on. You know you want to tell me.”

Glancing down the hallway to make sure the guys were still in the kitchen, you lean in towards Nancy and speak quietly. “Has Mike mentioned a new friend at their DND games?”

Nancy pulls back with a frown, that being far from what she thought would come out of your mouth. “Um, no. But to be fair, Mike doesn’t tell me a whole lot about his life. Why?”

You avoid her eyes as you lean back against the wall, head barely avoiding the framed pictures that hung there. “Well,” you start. “The guys have a new friend who plays DND with them.”

“Like a kid?” Nancy asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head, keeping your eyes on the kitchen doorway down the hall. “Like a guy. About our age.”

“Oh,” Nancy hums in understanding. “And you met him when you dropped by Dustin’s, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you confirm, still not looking at her. Nancy scoffs and grabs your arm, dragging you into your bedroom. She closes the door and rests her back against it.

“Spill,” she says.

You sit down on your bed and can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. “His name is Eddie. He’s going to come by this week and change the oil in my car.”

“Oh, is he now?” Nancy’s eyebrows raise and your face blooms red at the smirk on her face.

“Actual oil in my actual car!” You huff a laugh and rub your hands over your face. “He’s a mechanic. Dustin met him at the garage.”

“Is he cute?” Nancy moves from her spot against the door and sits down next to you on the bed. You bunch the yellow floral blanket in your fingers as you bite back an even bigger grin.

“Very,” you confirm. It feels nice to have a friend to talk about these things with. Yeah, there were girls in high school with you that you talked about boys with, but you were in a very different spot in your life than they were now. And Nancy was here and knew your life well. She’d become the best friend you’d ever had.

“When’s he coming by?”

“I gave him my number and he said he’d call Monday,” you say. You were about to tell her more about the conversation you’d had with Eddie but pounding started raining down on your bedroom door.

“Moooooooommy!”

“What’s up, buttercup?” you call through the door.

“Lemme in!”

“Excuse me?” you ask.

A tiny huff. “Can I come in pleeeease?”

You stand and open the door to find a little boy with a big smile staring up at you.

“Yes, sir?”

“Pizza’s coming!”

“Good. Know what you can do while we wait for it?” you ask.

“What?” he asks.

“Tell your daddy he needs to give you a bath.”

“Huh?” Steve asks, coming up behind Everett. He’s holding an apple with a bite missing and you remember why your son is constantly asking for snacks before dinner. “What do I have to do?” he asks through a mouthful of apple.

“Bath,” Everett says with a sigh.

“What?” Steve says as he looks down at Everett. “Why’d you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“Boring,” Everett says.

“Nothing’s boring with me, you know that,” Steve tells him. He leans down and throws Everett over his shoulder. The little boy giggles and kicks his legs as Steve carries him to the bathroom.

“Please keep my bathroom dry!” you shout down the hall.

“No promises!” Steve answers.

[svt-kiki]

( 🖇️ ) RELATIONSHIPS WITH HYUNG LINE ⌅ .

✦ 🍒 ⸝⸝ ⸺ seungcheol / s.coups

#　kiki　+　seungcheol　／　kicheol　...　100%

#　TAGLINE　...　old married couple *for real*

everyone can see they love each other

he can be the sea and she’ll be the ship that floating on it

every time he needs to play the 'scary eldest' role, she always felt sorry bc she knew she can’t do it ( she’s too pacifist for that )

kiki is his no.1 listner for whatever his thoughts are

they basically tie the knot already *blinks*

his parents basically adopts her lol

the reason why they have such a strong bond is not only they share the most trainee days with another

but they keep fighting to protect the group and members before and after the debut

seungcheol: *being sulky*

kiki: *judging side eye*

honestly she wasn’t totally sweetheart for him from the beginning ( not in the public eye i mean )

more like teased and pretended like judging him

but after he got into hiatus in 2019 ( it was HER darkest time too ) she just went like “f*ck that, i won’t stop expressing my love for him anymore”

well it’s always appearant that he goes down on her knees like-

not only within the group but recognized as one of the strongest ships among the kpop industry

the ‘knights line’ 1/3 - such a protective of her all the time

✦ 🐰 ⸝⸝ ⸺ jeonghan

#　kiki　+　jeonghan　／　kihani　...　80％

#　TAGLINE　...　devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

kiki in the most of gose : IM WATCHING U YOON JEONGHAN *in mute*

she pretends like she was offended by his cheating in the contents

but she’s the one who always cheers him and giving compliments

“u got this jeonghanna!” “u did so well~ i’m proud of u :)”

she always trust him through the trainee era, support him for both dancing and mentally

she knew he’s kinda type to get nervous often

so she always has his back, says something nice, holds his hands

and is she his soft spot? OBVIOUSLY

he always treats her meals and little gifts like sweets, cosmetics and accessories

she really takes care of his long hair bc if she doesn’t who does

late night walks, hanging out at the park

mostly she’s kinda ‘good girl’ type but when with him, her ‘devil mode’ would be activate ( and seungcheol would cry at the end )

jeonghan: *speaks japanese*

kiki: *proud mom*

personal space [ 404-not-found ]

well he kisses to her cheecks ... and forehead ... and top of the head ... and back of the hand ... ( and list continues )

when he turns low buttery mode, he goes towards her and either leans on her shoulder or rests his head on her lap ( mostly be witnessed in the concerts )

sometimes they are the completely opposite, but the other time share the same energy

✦ 🦌 ⸝⸝ ⸺ joshua

#　kiki　+　joshua　／　kishua　...　85%

#　TAGLINE　...　the mf soulmates

like i said, SOULMATES. that’s it, that’s the tweet

they’re like puzzle pieces ⸺ get along well bc it’s different

he brings out her active energy

she learned the guitar from him

and handles his silent chaotic energy pretty well lol

they always make plans and daydream abt trips they want to go

sometimes josh stans confirm he’s alive through her social media

joshua: *planning something crazy*

kiki, whispering: DON’T ( he’ll do it anyway 🤷🏻 )

cafe dates, drive dates, movie nights

his mom lowkey hopes for kiki to be a daughter-in-law which is never gonna happen lmao

he came up with ‘kit kat’ as her nickname

and yes, the treatment is sweet as the treat ;)

he normally acts like a twin but never forgets the gentle behavior as the gentleman should

especially in the beginning, she prefers not to be treated exceptional cuz she’s the only female member, but his manner and considerate changed it slowly ( and surely in a good way )

he’s kind of the friend who doesn’t say the words such as “oh r u okay” “i’m worried about u” out loud often but always there for her and take her to the night driving when she got stuck

✦ 🐱 ⸝⸝ ⸺ junnhui / jun

#　kiki　+　jun　／　kijun　...　70%

#　TAGLINE　...　the cat and the lion ( aka the owner )

they have the most pure kind of love

he has always been her protector in the airports and clouds

THE VISUAL

she really looking forward to go to shenzhen one day and visit all the places he wants to take them

she’s always so proud abt his acting career and calls him the movie star, now she’s too

and her secret dream is to costar with him one day

he never forgets to escorts her in the award shows and concerts, helping her in stairs, no hesitation to do arm in arm, lends her jacket if he worries she’s revealing too much of her bare skin for gowns ( in his eyes )

many skinships !!

they always share a bite to the other, both LOVE to have tasty foods and willing to let the one try

his little brother always wanna talk to her when he was a kid ( lowkey childhood crush ) then now he’s totally shy about that past and tries to avoide her when jun did the facetime and let the lil bro talk to her just to tease him

he won’t say anything until she went too far and overwork through days, but once he felt okay that’s enough he’ll just kidnapp her to the bedroom and tuck her in bed and like SLEEP

the ‘knights line’ 2/3 - he behaves like a cat playing with dearest owner and sending a nonverbal message to people around them like “ don’t look at her like that she’s OURS ”

✦ 🐯 ⸝⸝ ⸺ soonyoung / hoshi

#　kiki　+　soonyoung　／　kisoon　...　70%

#　TAGLINE　...　conqurer of the stage

everybody clear the way, the MAIN DANCERS are coming thru

but they really are THE all rounder, multi talented, just good at everything

they created their own handshake

she’s a secret no.1 supporter of horanghae

but she also LOVES his hamster pelsona, enjoys silently when it popped out randomly

in fact he is the reason that she determinded to be an idol for sure ⸺ she entered to pledis without firm belief about her future profession, but after his entry she was so impressed by his skills despite the gap of dance training experience. moreover, he was so sure about his future, to becoming the idol as his dream, and she just woke up as if she’d been slapped on the cheek like “what the hell i was thinking, of course i’ll be the idol too”

and he always admires her as a dancer and the respective person. he dreamed of not just being an idol, but standing on stage next to her since they met

surprisingly they quarrel most among the ship of kiki and members, but all of them are professional argument as they are in charge of choreographing and stage creation

and they always made up at the end of a day by eating ice pop side by side

he’s the one who encouraged her to do it when the other idol group reached out to her for their choreography production cos he believes in her talent more than anyone just as she does

both have hUGE gap between on and off stage, when they go hard it’s HARD 🔥🔥🔥 but otherwise they can be softest marshmallows

✦ 🐈‍⬛ ⸝⸝ ⸺ wonwoo

#　kiki　+　wonwoo　／　kinwoo　...　85%

#　TAGLINE　...　the book fairies

he’s nearly worshipping her *ships tea*

it’s not a big secret that she’s his first love ( at first sight )

and after all these years, she’s still the woman of his dreams

yall know wonwoo wasn’t really talkable person at first but more shy and quiet

well same things can say to her

so she understood his silent and calm yet passionate personality

and kiki really stood by his side and just being his comfort space

she listens to him well, even he express his thoughts into words not that much

she always recommends his glasses and he’ll buy her choice without HESITATION lol

they can spend whole time together without chattng, just reading or sleeping alnogside

and it’s so CUTE

he gave the camera to her for the birthday present, and it made her enjoying to take photos more than ever and he loves the influence he made on her

art museum date, hanging out in the night town and ww just keeps taking photo of her

they have a ritual as they go to the night walk when the group is off to the overseas in tours, strolling the town and find the cozy cafes

she can notice whenever he is stressed or gets nervous and so does he, she often pats his back in those situation and it comforts him really well

u can see ww stares her a LOT in behind contents or gose ( he literally gave up to hide his affection at this point )

tries to teach her how to play pc games but fails everytime

✦ 🍚 ⸝⸝ ⸺ jihoon / woozi

#　kiki　+　jihoon　　／　　kihoon　...　55%

#　TAGLINE　...　the vocal boss and the dance queen

trust me, they ARE strong. it’s just not aloud as others

woozi found japanese beatuful at first bc it’s the language she spoke

and kiki loves the words and lyrics he weaves, his korean is like a poet to her

he doesn’t wanna admits out loud but it’s hard to say she hasn’t owned the special ( and soft ) place in his heart

even makes him to do slightest physical contacts: pinches her sleeves, fiddles with her hair, plays with her earrings... and the list continues

kiki’s the one takes care him when he starts to get stuck in the studio for the work

takes him to the short walk, late night drives, make him foods and be sure he gets rest

sometimes they just sit together in the universe factory and chats about the song, anime and composing stuffs, eats takeouts and sessions or duets randomly

she joins as a recording direction besides him time to time, esp in the jp songs recording: she’s the lyricist of the jp songs is one of the reasons but also she has the good ears and able to hear the subtle difference like he does

woozi: *points out the differences* others: okay but WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE kiki: ??? wasn’t it obvious...???

well apparently she’s the closest female to him on the planet ( except his family ofc )

he rarely calls her noona but mostly just calls her kiki, there’s no paticular reason it’s just what it is

(    📁    )   :   NAVI   :  MASTER LIST     

( tag list / open ) : @smh-anon

[munsonshire]

Eddie Munson as your boyfriend

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (gender Neutral)

Disclaimer: Eventhough this are some headcanons I might warn you that this is long af

Warning: Use this freely on your fics but pls give credit

Masterlist

He gives the most obvious side eyes ever, You sometimes have to call him out because they are too obvious and he could get in trouble

He will get out of bed quietly when he can't sleep, take his guitar and get out of the bedroom then start playing music loudly

He makes a lot of sarcastic jokes

Will ask you for help when planning his next campaign, and will let you co-lead said campaign as you have also helped

He has this weird obsession with your ass where he will try to grab and squeeze whenever he can (consensual of course)

Contrary to popular belief I don't think that Eddie doesn't care about his hair, I think he does and that those curls aren't as wild as they seem, he makes them look that way, If he didn't then his hair would look even more wild.

When he gets bored he likes to draw on your arms with a marker (erasable).

He always ends up with random scratches, he never knows how but it happens, Sometimes you have to take care of those scratches.

He likes to cuddle with you, and NEEDS to cuddle with you, The poor boy is touch-starved but at the same time, when you touch him too much he can get overstimulated, so he'll tell you when it's enough

All the dice and little figures he has are because he finds them in the floor or somewhere, repaints, and heeps them, he has gifted you so many dice that you now have them all in a jar.

You gifted him a Polaroid camera, and you still don't know if it was a good or bad idea, he will pull that camera whenever he can and take the most horrible pictures of you, like sleeping or similar.

Has struggled with eating disorders in the past, you try to keep an eye on him and make sure that he's eating well but at the same time try not to force him so it doesn't feel like an obligation.

- Okay, so, generally we tend to think of Eddie as this metal guy and so badass, but tbh I see him as the guy that would crouch down and tie your shoelaces if you ask him to or if he sees that they are untied because he doesn't want you to get hurt. Or, if he's in more of a goofy mood he will crouch down and tie your shoelaces together so that you fall, and he obviously has a laughing fit before even thinking of helping you but then he asks you if you're okay and kisses you.

- He's the kind that will surprise you with gifts, those are usually things that you've said you wanted but didn't get because they were too expensive. He's very attentive of your especial interests and wants to get you something with meaning

He gives you his jacket whenever it's cold

He likes to stay in and watch movies and cuddle

Tries his best to comfort you

Likes to play around in the rain with you, you both usually get soaking wet in the rain and end up covered in mud.

When it rains or he just took a shower and his hair is all wet he likes to shake his hair and soak you, he thinks its extremely fun

he holds your face with both hands

likes to kiss the top of your head

After spending so much time together he starts picking up your gestures, habits, and tics even without noticing. But if you pick up one of his habits/tics, like sticking out your tongue when concentrated, he notices it and teases you about it

Likes to get way too close to your face/ear to say something

Very curious about you and your past, he wants to know a lot about you to understand you better

Constantly tells you everything he likes about you

Moves a lot while talking

Lots of LOTR and metal references that he will explain if you don't get them, he never wants you to feel stupid when you two are talking.

Makes you a dnd character in case you ever want to join, which you probably will, considering the amount of time that he's made you sit and watch one of his campaigns and that sometimes you too get too invested in the storylines. This character will appear in the dnd campaigns, even if you don't play, at first the hellfire club members didn't know who this mysterious character was but after meeting you it was so damn obvious

will take you to all the Corroded Coffin rehearsals and little concerts, he likes to dedicate one or two songs to you

likes to mark his territory so if you're talking to someone in the hallway his mf will appear out of nowhere and hug you from behind, leaving a little kiss on your neck, and then leave again, During that interaction he will glare at whoever you're talking to.

if he sits behind you in class, he will spend it kicking your chair to get your attention

he loves making you laugh at his silly jokes

Sneaks through your window whenever he wants, he's hungry? you better have something to eat. Can't sleep? You're gonna be his personal teddy bear. Needs to talk? Now you have a career in psychology, congratulations. Better listen to him when he gets there or he's gonna be throwing rocks at your window all night/day

explains all of dnd to you

Finds hair ties on the floor and gives them to you even if you told him thousands of times that that is not hygienic at all but he ignores you - you still thank him anyway

Likes it when you do his hair

He loves to braid your hair, doesn't really know how but at least he tries

Hugs you from behind, sometimes giving you heart attacks

Sloopy neck kisses, he loves it because it makes you giggle

Likes to hum and sing to you when you can't sleep

He likes to take your hand and trace all the lines in it, then he gives it a little squeeze

Always holds your thigh while driving

Makes you laugh when you're mad at him, that makes you even more mad

He makes a confused face whenever you talk to him about something that he doesn't know about or something he doesn't understand

Has no filter, because he trusts you

If you say you like one of his rings he'd probably give it to you and laugh when he sees that it doesn't fit your fingers. Then he will find some kind of lace to put the ring through it so that you can wear it as a necklace.

Likes to stargaze with you

likes to run his fingers along your skin, especially your back because it makes you shiver

He keeps flirting with you even if you've been dating for the longest time

Loves to pick little fights with you, never serious, just for fun

Would get a tattoo of something that reminds him of you

Asks you to tutor him when he doesn't understand a class, usually math or something like that. Tutoring lessons usually end up with one of you on top of the other while making out

Loves to pull pranks on you and scare you. But he usually gets slapped or something, because idk you but I get aggressive when someone scares me

Will try to teach you how to play guitar

He has the messiest bedhead ever

Hand-holding while sleeping

Puts his hand in your back pocket when you go out together

Comforting each other after nightmares

holds your hand and swings your arms obnoxiously together, he loves to see you laugh and stumble around

He loves your smile and makes you smile at every chance he gets

Venting to each other, asking first obviously.

He puts his hand on your thigh when he drives

He insists on you sitting on his lap, even if there are other chairs to sit

If you ask for one of his shirts and he's in the mood to annoy you he will tell you to take the one he's wearing

- "Eddie, can I have one of your shirts?"

- "Yeah, come and get it"

- "Where is it?"

- "It's on me sweetheart"

- *you look at him confused* "What do you mean?"

- "I mean, take it off me"

- "Eddie..."

- "What? You wanted my shirt"

- "Okay okay, fine, ill take it"

If you have trust issues he's always reassuring you that he loves you. He has abandonment issues so better remind and reassure him that you still love him

Going out dressed up in Halloween. Scaring kids till they pee their pants

He made you a matching guitar pick necklace like the one he has

Hugs you when you're sad

Likes to play fight but if you fight back, he will lose it

Has an irrational fear of doctors/dentists and will throw a tantrum if you take him to one

Bites as a form of showing affection

When it's raining heavily he loves to take you to this one spot in the woods that he calls "his spot" so you both can scream about whatever it is that has been bothering you, Once you feel better you will dance under the rain

He blinks like 100 times before a staring contest and he gets so competitive, he NEEDS to win

If his eyeliner runs and he smears it he will come up with the excuse that it's his new metal way to wear it, just because he's too lazy to take it off and put it on again

Smirks and shrugs when you ask him how he's able to stay up all night and still have energy the rest of the day, he just teases you about not being able to do it yourself

After the attack, whenever you ask to see his scars to know if they are healing he will lift his shirt and hold it between his teeth, mumbling something about how the bruising is fading. And the MF will smirk because he knows that you're having a hard time trying to focus on the scars and not stare at his shirtless torso

Reads his favorite books aloud for you to fall asleep. He LOVES when you fall asleep with him near you because it shows how comfortable and safe you feel around him.

Puts your hair behind your ears and brushes your hair out of your face whenever you're talking with him because he wants to see your face

Likes to ask you for outfit advice, but he just shows up with two almost identical band T-shirts

He loves it when you mess with his hands, like, if you're anxious and take his hand and start playing with his fingers, he loves that shit, and also if you take his rings and put them in your fingers

[katsukikitten]

Look I've just been obsessed with him okay. Probs hella out of character and I'm too shy to be the only one in his tag

"Zodel! Zo! Look what I brought!" Your cute excited voice echoes around the dingy hideout as your boss stands with his back to you looking over something 'important'. He's busy you know this but he's always fucking busy.

And he should never be too busy for you.

"I said look." Voice turning dangerous. Slowly his dark eyes glance over his shoulder. His handsome face ever neutral, cold even, as he blinks slowly.

Watches you toss a body at his feet gaining his attention enough that he turns around fully. Eyes sharp as he squats down with his hands dangling between his powerful thighs as he studies the cleaner's body for a moment before he stands back upright.

"I wanted him alive." Zodel's voice is even and smooth, a hint of disappointment, eyes flickering up from the scared face to you. If anyone else had brought this boy he would have cloaked himself in a half deadly shadow and collected another body for to feed the core. Instead he looks at you with his dead eyes and slowblink, "And the jinki?"

"I paused for dramatic effect." You giggle, bringing your hands from behind your back sharp claws wrapped around a small yarn winder. Dramatically changing it's shape to a large staff before slamming the base into the ground, "He called it Tokushin."

Zodel looks unpleased, apathetic but it does nothing to deter your little show and tell.

Slamming the base again for thick rope to reach out far and wide, sure to avoid netting your boss before you twist the staff roughly making a net filled with the other vandals.

"See like a spider." You giggle, it slides down his throat like honey, "And if you twist and twist and twist eventually it can dice them up!"

Smiling wide as Jabber, Noerde, and Bundus struggle in the tight strings.

"The more they struggle the more it hurts them. Isn't this such a great treasure?" You aren't asking Zodel, far from, you're too busy looking up at your latest victims in the jinki you looted from the dead janitor, having wanted it since you first laid your greedy eyes on it.

"You stupid bitch, wind it tighter so I can cum." Jabber shudders as he squirms, sharp claw pinned to his body awkwardly making it impossible to poison himself to make this little experience even better. The rope cuts into his skin and he groans too loudly.

"You should try to fight without all of these little tricks girl. Be a warrior." Noerde hisses, long hair wrapped around herself as tight as the rope unable to discharge a deadly shock without her comb that she tightly grips in her hands. All the while Bundus stays silent and unmoving waiting for your little demonstration to be over.

"Is this all you've brought me?" There's that damn bored even tone. It strikes a nerve that has your hand gripping around the pole tighter. The wood groaning in your grip before you wind the rope tightly until everyone is wrapped around the pole before launching it at Zodel. He doesn't move, doesn't even flinch when it lands right between his feet and through the previous owner's body.

"I don't see anybody fucking else with anything!" You growl, temper flaring because he doesn't appreciate the treasure you've brought him. The food for the core and your chest is heaving.

"Release them." Eyes darker now, voice rougher as he holds your defying gaze.

"No." You snarl, crossing your arms as you glare up at him. You weren't releasing those useless vandals, they weren't a raider like you! To be a raider you actually had to fucking bring home something.

Isn't that what boss wanted? Information? Bodies? Jinki?

He moves faster than you can blink, half of his body shrouded in shadow as he grabs at your jaw roughly. Black fingers digging into your soft cheeks as he comes closer to your face to make sure you'd hear him this time.

"Release. Them." It takes another moment of silence and his grip to begin to bruise your pretty face before you finally obey. The rope disappears and the jinki clatters onto the ground as a small wooden yarn winder once more.

He doesn't even need to give his command to Kutohni to warp the other three vandals away to leave you alone with an angry Zodel. Black eyes boring into yours before they start to scan your face, your skin, and it's only then does he notice the rope burns and scabbed over cuts.

A particularly nasty one on your throat, jerking your jaw in his grip to better see the injury as you glare up at him from the corner of your eye. Leaning closer to your throat before he presses his lips gently to the bruised skin above the open wound. Slowly the shroud around him retreats back into the black coat he wears before he's palming the back of your head.

Pulling you into the safety of his chest, his jacket as he wraps the old fabric around you waiting for you to latch onto his torso like normally did.

"You fought hard for these treasures." He lets his hand follow the curve of your skull as he speaks, voice almost soft making your stomach flutter with excitement especially when he adds, "You did well princess."

You snap up to look at him as if you hadn't heard him correctly, rarely ever giving you praise let alone the nickname you've asked him, and only him, to call you.

Eyes darting between his before they fall to his soft lips and for a moment you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch up.