#I don't think you understand just HOW much I did (and still do) latch onto River as a Self-Recognition Character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldenstring6123 · 4 months ago

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HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

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astraystayyh · 11 months ago

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the premise: ur reaction to hyunjin's new short purple hair. this is very self indulgent and silly and fluffy and im mad at this man for being so pretty (i love him so much)

"are your eyes closed?" hyunjin's voice echoes from behind the door, as you lie on your stomach upon the bed.

"they are!" you yell back, palms pressing tightly against your eyelids. "can you hurry, i miss the light."

"you are so dramatic," hyunjin giggles, and you can vividly imagine him, head tipped back, a fond smile etched on his face—the one he reserves just for you. it sends a tingling warmth through your spine; you've come to learn hyunjin through these past three years, you can now clearly envision him, even behind your darkened eyelids, picturing every mimic of his as if he's right before you.

"save me boyfriend with pretty brown eyes, save me!"

"just a few more seconds baby, i promise," he quickly reassures, and you bite your lip slightly. you know he must be running his hands through his hair, trying to tame the stubborn strands you love to tuck behind his ear. a slight nervous shake in his limbs as he assesses himself in the enormous vanity mirror in your room. hyunjin knows he's good looking, it would be idiotic of him to believe otherwise. but it is always after significant changes in his appearance that he becomes almost shier, as if adjusting to the person reflecting back in the mirror.

"you're really pretty, you know that, right?" you speak softly.

"you didn't even see me yet," a smile is latched onto his words, making them ring sweetly in your ears.

"i don't need to. i think you are physically incapable of being ugly. beauty just oozes from each one of your features."

"okay, you can look now because i need to kiss you before i pass out," he sighs and you laugh before swiftly pulling your hands away from your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the stream of light coursing through your pupils. and then, your gaze locks on hyunjin.

his hair is short again. deep purple reflections dancing underneath the silver light of your bedroom.

you blink.

his hair is still short. and purple.

you blink again.

"are you... malfunctioning?" he chuckles, eyes disappearing into moon crescents.

"holy shit," you whisper, scrambling to the edge of the bed where he's standing, fidgeting from one leg to another. you quickly stand on the mattress so you can tower over him, turning his head to the left, then right.

"you cut your hair," you whisper in wonder.

"i did. do you like it?"

"do. i. like. it?" you repeat incredulously, running your fingers through his silky threads. "i prayed for this day to come, you don't understand," you beam at him, wrapping your hand around his neck, his hands find the slate of your waist, pressing you closer to him.

"did you now, love?"

"you're so pretty. i hate you," you sigh, tugging at his strands in wonder, admiring the rich color that's dancing off his hair.

"that sounds contradictory," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. you bite his arm in response. he yelps loudly in true hyunjin fashion.

"you're actually so gorgeous it maddens me. how are you real," you pinch his cheek slightly, and he only screeches louder. "how are you mine?" you add, poking his nose, and he wraps an arm around your midriff, before throwing you back into the bed, this time hovering over you.

"because you're you, so i can't be anything but yours."

"give me a minute," you sigh, closing your eyes. "i can't handle your words and your hair at the same time."

"you're an idiot," he laughs, and it sounds so genuine, a barely concealed 'thank you' peeking behind the syllables, as he buries his head in your neck. you can't help but smile in response.

"let me look at you," you cradle his face between your hands, your noses brushing against one another. your gaze turns serious as you drink in each feature of his. you love his long hair, love running your hands through it and braiding his locks before you sleep. but his short hair makes his features more prominent, undisturbed by stray strands that never want to remain in place.

you can feel his cheeks warm up underneath your touch, his gaze growing shier under your scrutinization, his head tilting to the side, pressing further onto your palm. nothing about your love has changed, even after three years of dating.

"you really like it?" he asks, tone quiet, lips brushing against your own, velvet meeting velvet.

"i do," you whisper, before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "you know what's insane about you?"

"do tell," he smiles, bopping his nose against your own.

"your face is so goddamn pretty, and yet, it is the least beautiful thing about you."

"i know," he smiles, pecking your cheek, then your wrist in a tenderness that makes your heart drop to your knees. "you're the most beautiful part of me."

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #hyunjin fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids imagine #hyunjin imagines

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fuji-sen · 2 months ago

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the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Foodie turned Imposter?!

Part 7: Dawn Winery's Grapevine

[ part 6 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 8 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

"It's best we go now and tell Amber that we didn't find anything." Aether decided, having finished eating, you found yourself walking Paimon and Aether out of the hilichurl camp, your warm friend was dozing off after having their fill of wood and pinecones.

"That would be true." You couldn't help but feel a bit sad having to part with them, though your time in this world was short, it felt forever since you had any decent human conversation. Sure the pyro slime and the hilichurls were very welcoming and accomodating but it was hard to have a clear conversation with them due to a language barrier, and the few people you had met in Mondstadt were either a rumored puppet (Katheryne) or tried to kill you in the end (Jean and Lisa).

Noticing your disappointment, the blond haired boy promised you something that made your smile return "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you permanently. I'll come by once the close is clear but. ."

He eyed the Hilichurl group "I think you shouldn't stay here any longer, the knights might come to take care of this camp before it gets to big. . they may find you."

Your eyes widened slightly, you didn't want the Hilichurls who took you in to get hurt. . "I'll keep that in mind. ."

"Here." His hand glowered brightly as he brought out a bow and a quiver filled with arrows, "This should help you in the long run." he said, he didn't want to leave you, not when you clearly couldn't fight to protect your life, but being with him while Mondstadt had his eyes on him would only risk you getting found out.

"Thank you. ." despite your hesitance you forced yourself to take the weapon. . 'right. . I shouldn't hesitate. They never did, so I shouldn't. Not when my life is on the line.'

When the duo had left in the dead of the night, you turned around, basking once more in the peaceful hilichurl tribe. Most of them were asleep, cuddling with each other for warmth near the weak bonfire that your pyro buddy managed.

The children were latched onto the older ones, the samachurl dozing off while stilling sitting, clutching their staff in their hands. Knowing that the Hilichurls were overprotective of you (for a reason you cannot quite comprehend at the present), you decided you must leave the hilichurl group for both of your own safety's. But not now, you at least wanted to be just a bit selfish.

You sat next to the dozing campfire, hugging your knees close to your chest. 'There's a lot to be done.' you thought, hand wondering to a nearby hilichurl's head, feeling their soft fur or hair, you found your fingers gently coming through the tangles.

Their origins were not unknown to you, and that made it harder for you to stay and leave them. To stay would put them at a risk of the knights attacking them to get through to you, while leaving them would damn them of the punishment placed on to them. You could not stay and defend them when she didn't even have any combat prowess.

Despite being a former culinary arts students, you had experience due to playing Genshin Impact. There was a way to make sure the hilichurl group would not be ill-equipped. Of course helping them get stronger may mean they'd end up hurting innocent civilians but. . they were much better than the people, so you didn't need much more convincing.

Come the next few days you helped in fortifying their walls and making simple watch towers out of wood so their archers would have better leverage. Of course all you did was draw the watchtower and they understood what you were trying to convey to start building it.

The Samachurl was also able to help with communication, but they way that the Sama looked at you meant he was beginning to understand why you had them do these things. You thought the younger hilichurls how to cook and prepare food that weren't just meat but also those with vegetables.

"You need to eat your vegetables okay?" "nye!" a hilichurl huffed, crossing their arms and turning away. "Hey!"

You also accompanied them when they went hunting and foraging, they taught you how to prepare birds and boars to turn into food and meet, while you taught them how to season them and prepare it so the food will last longer.

They helped you learn how to use a bow and in turn the first prey you had caught were given to them. When you realized that they were now able to live more efficiently, you decided to leave that particular night.

You left half of the food and ingredients you had foraged, the rest going into your inventory. As you walked out of the camp, you found yourself turning back only to flinch at the Samachurl who appeared right in front of you.

"Unu. ." the sadness in his voice conveyed that he knew you were about to leave, without planning to return. . at least for a long while.

Swallowing away your nerves, you responded by simply bowing deeply in respect and gratitude "Valo. . for everything."

"a. .ah." the Samachurl coughed, once again he spoke in broken human language. . "p. please, come back, ye unu. . we're your odomu." and he bowed in front of you, much deeper, almost falling to the ground as he regarded with reverence.

You straightened up, feeling a mixture of emotions as you approached him, arms enveloping his much smaller form as you placed a kiss on his forehead. "I will."

🏹⁀➴˚ ✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Find yourself alone made you feel solemn and rather lonely, but you resisted the urge to go back. Due to the terrain of Brightcrown mountains, there were so few paths you could take. Since you weren't a skilled rock climber nor did you feel safe swimming at cider lake with its proximity to city of freedom, you decided to take the path that lead south, to the sub area Windwail Highland.

Windwail Highland consisted of Dawn Winery, Wolvendom and Springvale. Your goal was to go to Wolvendom, due to it being home to the wolves, it was a less popular sight in the region. There were few people there, actually you were sure that there would only be one person to worry about, Razor.

Wolvendom held something precious you would need after all, Wolfhook, it was not because you wanted to try cooking with them. . . okay partly it was, but it was mainly for its medicinal properties! Since you couldn't go to the city and get healed by someone like Barbara, you could only rely on homemade remedies and recovery food.

Of course recovery food were for hp in the end, you don't think they'll heal any broken bones you may get along the way. But since you didn't know how to exactly use them, you also had to improvise this entire journey of yours to make sure you live.

You eyed the lake that entered your vision, as your hand placed itself on a waypoint, ignoring it whirl to life you turn to the fork in the path. One leading to the winery, the other leading to Liyue. If Aether hadn't told you why you were being targeted by Mondstadt, you'd have probably escape to Liyue using this path by now but. .

if Mondstadt, the city of freedom itself wanted you dead without any due process, what of Liyue? Liyue, a region steeped in tradition, this creator was respected in the entire continent. . thinking about it, there wasn't really any safe places for you to go to, to seek refuge in.

Even if there were people who would willingly protect you and house you, you'd no doubt feel guilty for putting them in potential harm's way. You massaged the lower half of your face as you decided to continue trekking on, but instead of feeling your skin, you felt a fabric around you. "Ah right" you murmur as you remembered making a half-assed veil to cover the majority of your face. The hilichurl masked had been an option but that would garner more attention to yourself as a human dressed as a hilichurl.

But with the apparel you were wearing you could easily play yourself off as being a nomad from a far of region, possibly the Sumeru Desert, the clothes would be close enough to it and considering there were few or none sumeru visitors in Mondstadt except for Lisa (who has been away from the dendro region for years) then you were safe.

The smell of grapes seemed to linger around the area now, and lo and behold, you could see Dawn Winery with its grapevines in full glory. Curiously you stopped to stare, watching as numerous maids and workmen were hauling the harvest to the house.

"Oh hello there, is there anything we can do for you?" You flinched as you turned to find a maid approach her, one with short light blonde hair and green eyes, her appearance was very familiar to her but the name was definitely on the tip of your tongue.

"U-uh no, sorry I just smelled some grapes." You awkwardly stood, wondering if the maid knew about the wanted 'Imposter' on the loose.

The woman nodded, a smile on her face. "I see, here at Dawn Winery, we grow a lot of varieties of grapes that are used for our wine and some other special ingredients." she added helpfully.

"Is it harvesting season then?" you asked curiously, the woman nodded "yes, for one of our rotations. We are actually hiring some adventurers for some labor. Are you by chance one of those adventurers who saw our request?"

Immediately you shook your head "Ah I'm an adventurer, yes. But I haven't seen this request of yours."

"Ah I see"

Seeing her disappointment you added "however if you still need an extra pair of hands, I can help." you offered and she instantly smiled. "That's great, why don't you follow me and I can explain to you what we need to do!"

You nodded, taking a steady pace as you followed behind the woman who'd you come to realize was Adelinde. All you had to do was harvest the grapes in one section of the winery, then help with the cleaning then the delivery of a wine. "Apparently, the Knights are ordering for abled men to partake in the hunt of a person impersonating out great Creator." Adeline offhandedly mentioned, which explained why most of the people in the area were either maids or much older workers that probably did not meet Jean's standards for participants.

"I see, that must have been a trouble for your business." You nodded along as you grabbed a wooden basket, and started working. You were too far into it to leave anyways, and hopefully they'd pay you a lot for the menial labor. Maybe finally you could escape the nightmare that is minimum wage.

The grapes looked juicy and plump, you were almost tempted on snacking on a few but you didn't want to return Adelinde's kindness with eating their grapes. You could probably make some raisins with the grapes.

"Oh Master Kaeya, what are you doing here?" You flinched at Adelinde who was greeting a boy with dark blue hair. "Hello Adelinde" he greeted respectfully, without a hint of teasing. From the corner of your eye you could see him interact with the maid.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips, hoping the captain would not notice you. "I heard you were short on hands so I thought I'd stop by and assist you."

"Don't tell me you ditched your work." The woman huffed, hands on her hips, but she didn't look too annoyed. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's okay, Diluc is working with the Knights at Jean's behest." He waved her off.

"I see, thank you for your help. . but are you sure? this situation is very important. It is true that there is an imposter like in the prophecy?" Adelinde asked with a hush whisper, but you found that the wind carried their voices to you making it easier for you to eavesdrop.

"Supposedly, but I would not rule out this imposter for simply having a few similar features with her divinity." Kaeya said with a small sigh, the maid skeptically wondered "that is true but. . are they truly going to execute this person on sight. . what if they are actually the creator?"

If Adelinde had a choice, she would rather give it time to truly determine this person's status before deciding to execute them on the spot.

"I would agree. But maybe Diluc could bring reason to Jean."

"Hopefully, Jean has always been fond of Diluc, maybe she'd listen to him."

Oh? did that mean Jean did have feelings for the red haired dark knight? you couldn't help but cover your mouth with your hand, finding the tea to be interesting.

"But you know, I wonder why Jean is acting like this, usually she's so level headed." Adelinde sighed cupping her cheek in dismay, she was quite disappointed with the acting grand master's choice of actions.

"Well you know it is quite a sensitive topic, it seems like she wants to curry favor with the great Creator after being neglected." Kaeya unabashedly exposed Jean's secrets. You blinked in confusion, hands stopping as if frozen from harvesting another grapevine. Jean was neglected by the creator?

'so like mommy issues or God Issues?'

You couldn't help but ponder the implications of what was revealed to you, that meant that the God was still active in some ways but still silent.

Then you remembered something, you had jean, you had pulled for a character you had wanted only to lose 50/50, and because by then she was out of meta you didn't bother using her, only building her to get the few free wishes. .

You nearly dropped your basket as something cold washed over you. . something, something was clearly wrong.

°🥂⋆.ೃ🍾࿔*:･

After harvesting all the ready grapes in the section Adelinde instructed you, you found them ready the grapes into wooden buckets as the other more experienced maids handled the work. "Why don't you take a seat and wait, the others are loading up the wine in the cart." Adelinde offered as you nodded in relief, you found your feet hurting from standing on unpaved paths without any proper protection.

"By the way," you flinched, turning to Adeline who simply smiled at you, unaware of your unease "I never got your name."

"It's [Name]." you said with a slight nod as you then headed to the chairs and tables scattered around the estate. You felt your stomach rumble, finding yourself starving. You should cook something, you wondered if you can borrow the nearby cooking pot. "Why hello there?"

Your eyes widened, turning to meet Kaeya, how long had he been aware of your presence? how long had you been distracted by your hunger to not notice him approaching?

"I've never met you before, you are?"

"[name] just a nomad." you answered with a frown, eyes narrowing at the captain. What was he up to? even though he seemed to not agree with Jean's witch trial, he was still a wildcard.

"Oh? from where?" he took the seat next to you, a smile plastered on his face.

"The desert in Sumeru."

Your answers were short and had a sharp edge, but it did not deter the Cavalry captain who only seemed more and more amused. You wondered whether Aether trusted the man enough to tell him about what he knew of you.

"Oh really? I've never been there before. What's it like?"

"Unbearably hot during the day, cold during the night. There are also a lot of eremites and mercenary." You answered. Could he even confirm or deny your claims? sure he had connections, but did it reach towards Sumeru who was quite far?

His fingers tapped the wooden table that separated the two of you, "I've never been to Sumeru before, could you tell me more about it?" he asked, putting on his charismatic tone. "What do you care for then?" you gritted out.

"How about the cuisine?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you found yourself going into a long rant about the food in Sumeru. Although you could never truly describe it's by its taste, having never eaten it. You vividly remember its description.

"The pita pockets are very tasty and filling, I made it once (recreated) and it was delicious. You can change the fillings, I tried one with a filling similar to what I usually use in Quesadillas. But you can change it to have some lettuce or tomatoes and pork. But if you want a dish you can try the Tandoori Roast Chicken, it's similar to the Sweet Madame but instead of being sweet it's more savory with spices." You continued on ranting as Kaeya blinked, he was not expecting this.

He wasn't able to cut in for awhile as you passionately talked about the food from Sumeru, sometimes you complained about the ingredients, other times you gushed about how delicious it was when you cooked it or how disappointed you were when you hadn't.

"Personally I always wanted to try their Shawarma wraps, but I haven't had the chance to recreate it as well as the Rose custard. I love pudding, what about you?"

"oh uh" he blinked again, not expecting you to stop as you, again, were rather passionate. Realizing it as well, you reeled back, cheeks and ears taking on a rosy hue as you apologized, definitely embarrassed for chatting his ears off.

"It's alright" he found himself chuckling, for some reason, when you had your guard down and began talking with such passion, he found himself relaxing, warming up to your more genuine side.

"Personally I'd prefer a good meal that could be paired with some wine." He commented, he propped his arm up by placing his elbow on the table, as he leaned his cheek on his palm. "Since you came from Sumeru, have you tried any Mondstadt dishes?"

You shook your head, you didn't have a chance to because of Jean and Lisa, you bitterly thought. "How about I treat you?" he offered and suddenly the sound of your stomach pitifully grumbling was heard, you wanted to die as he said with an amused smile "I'll take that as a yes then."

Rather than actually buying you food, he took it upon himself to cook you something. The blue haired knight had borrowed the kitchen in the Ragnvindr estate. You sat patiently on a stool as you watched him worked, wondering if he was always this easy going with people? To cook for someone, well to you that was rather intimate after all.

You smelled the scent of fruit, and quickly you realized he was making his signature dish. If cooking for someone you just met wasn't intimate, then cooking your signature dish for someone you weren't even close to was definitely intimate.

"Here you go, a plate of my famous Fruity Skewers." he said after a few moments, presenting you with a plate with his signature dishes. It looked more appetizing than the base recipe which was the chicken-mushroom skewers, you could see the slices of cucumber and onions paired with the chicken and mushrooms which had a shiny coat to it, probably from the wine he used to marinate. With a hum you took a skewer and bit into it.

Kaeya watched with slight interest at how your eyes sparkled from the dish, you licked your lips after finishing a skewer and when you turned to him, any apprehension you had towards him was gone. "This is delicious!"

When you had recreated his signature dish back at home, you clearly didn't do any justice for his signature dish. Perhaps it was the wine, no, it was definitely the wine you had used that failed to capture it's essense.

"I'm glad you liked it. You are. . quite enamored with food huh?"

You weren't offended by his remarks, instead you proudly sat straighter, as you jabbed your thumb towards yourself "That's right. I'm a foodie."

"A foodie?" he repeated, a certain shift in his tone that you hadn't noticed.

"That's right," you smiled "a foodie is basically a person who is very interested in food!"

"That seems like an understatement, when I take you for an example." At his words you blushed, chuckling as you remembered how you rant off moments ago, on just the sumeru dishes alone.

The two of you began eating in the kitchens, you were sure Adelinde had pop by once but immediately closed the door but you weren't too sure. Kaeya wasn't bothered, taking the time to savor the meal as you decided to return the favor by making some desert.

I use he/they pronouns for the slime, they/them for hilichurls but some I used he/him. The samachurl is he/they. Since I'm writing a female reader, i usually use her, but it's mostly 'you'.

I'm sorry you had to leave them, it's for the story's progression.

oh and this story is going to be definitely lighthearted with a few pinches of angst, how you treat characters when you were playing the game will definitely affect their standing on you. Well at least in Jean's case.

Current compiled suggestions to name the pyro slime <3

Fuji_Sen has suggested! Lava Cake or "Java" based on the food / coffee" Fuji_Sen has suggested! Monsieur Creme Brulee or "Creme" based on the food. @Fantasyhopperhea has suggested! Soleil or "Sol" @Cactus4226 has suggested! Ruru (Py-ro, ro -> ru -> ruru) @bunniotomia has suggested! Helios or "Hel" @airyravenmaid has suggested! Cinnamon or "Cinna"

taglist:

@fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily

@earth-to-name @fandomfan-102 @kh1ffy @jiyeons-closet @dragontammerz / @mercy-not-merci @aryuunachigiri @randomnatics @alexx197197 @keirennyx @vianitry @game-savvy @laviniadraws

If you are not tagged successfully that means tumblr thinks you are a bot (because you don't have posts, or much interaction), you have been shadowbanned, or your visibility is set to prevent you from being tagged.

check here for more info.

I recommend checking your visibility or post and reblog a couple of times to fix the issue, if you don't know if you're shadowbanned check if you have the message function, if not you probably are.

also I repeat, if this chapter is old (meaning there is a more latest one) please request to be add in the taglist there, it's much easier for me to filter the newer requests from the old ones, :'D

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luveline · 2 years ago

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

part five | chapter list

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue sleepy kisses, baby kisses, cheesecake and cherry ice pops, and dinner with uncle wayne. [8k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a girl dad (<3), tw for mentions of not having much money, new established relationship! idiots in love!! and junie being the sweetest baby ever

𓆩❤︎𓆪

You don't think you've ever seen Eddie asleep before. You rack your brain for a memory, even the suggestion of one, and come up blank. Maybe I dreamt it, you think to yourself, hesitating with your hand held aloft above his peaceful face.

He looks like a dream.

What he'd said last night — before the kiss, and after — echoes. You can feel his hands on your face if you close your eyes, the heat of each gentle palm, the scratch of a silver ring. He's missing his jewellery now, because he takes it off before bed. You can't believe you hadn't known that. All these details. His lashes kissing the delicate skin of his under eye, the way his lips thin in sleep from being pressed together. You reach toward him with a shy hand and brush a bundle of curls from his cheek, exposing the ridge of his cheekbone, begging to be kissed.

You'd been tired, so tired, and then he'd come back, and he'd crashed hard. You understand it. It'd been the most exciting moment of your life, and on top of that, he'd taken care of Junie for most of the day beforehand.

You've slept sparingly. The sun leeches in through the window one small ray at a time. Junie makes a small sound behind you, stirring in her toddler bed. You nibble your lip guiltily, wanting one more minute, just one, to look at Eddie uninterrupted.

You turn around and your reluctance melts, Junie a picture of a good long sleep. Her hair is a mess, her lips still pouting, and her eyes are partly open. She sees you're awake too and smiles, and the guilt of wishing she'd sleep in intensifies. She climbs down from her bed and rushes up to yours.

"Hey, baby," you say softly, holding out your arm.

She grabs the sheets and you help her up, folding her into your chest with a contented sigh.

She's tired, and she lets you move her around with little protest. Which isn't to say she's despondent: her hands latch onto your t-shirt, and her tiny chin rises as she stares you straight in the eye.

"How did you sleep, bubby?" you whisper-coo, hand spread over the breadth of her shoulders, the other crushed under your own weight. "My hand's going numb."

You pull you arm out and hold her face. "That's better. Good sleep? Do you feel happy?"

"Good," she says. "Feel good?"

You huff out a delighted sound and drop your nose to hers. "I feel super good, Junie baby. I'm so happy, because you're happy, and you're so smart."

She smiles more.

"Can you say that, baby? Say, 'I'm so smart."

Junie wiggles against your torso, hands at the neckline of your sleep shirt. "Smart," she says.

"Yeah! Yes. 'I'm so smart.'"

"I'm so 'mart."

"Yay!" you cheer again, your inflection celebratory even though you're still speaking in hushed tones. You don't want to wake Eddie, but maybe you do — is this the kind of thing he's interested in being a part of? "You're so smart. So so smart, and pretty and kind and soft."

You stroke her cheek with the back of your index finger, hoping to tickle her into giggles. "So soft," you murmur, "my lovely soft girl. You know why you're so soft? It's 'cause you're such a good girl, and you let me wipe your cheeks after dinner even though you hate it." You're speaking quietly enough that some of the words sound worn, syllables lost.

Junie doesn't need to hear them to know they're dripping in love. She rests her cheek against your upper arm, chub against chub, and you sink down with her, closing her in for a cuddle.

Your fingertips brush over the nape of her neck.

"Love you," you say, kissing her head absentmindedly.

"Love you," she says back.

She'd been a slow-learner, and she's still behind the majority of her age group, but none of it matters. Hearing her say anything at all is a gift. Hearing her says she loves you?

You laugh. There's nowhere else for all the happy to go.

Your hopes of sleeping again are dashed when she sits up and sees the lump of a body behind you. If she's confused she doesn't show it, hands pressed to your tender side as she climbs over you and onto Eddie's stomach.

He doesn't rouse at first. He sighs, his arm lifting where it's trapped under the sheets, your faded cornflower blue quilt that he'd praised unnecessarily. It's pretty, he'd said, back flat to your mattress as you'd imagined him a hundred times before.

You're pretty, you'd said. He'd opened his arms to draw you in for another hug. They'd felt endless all night.

Junie gets to his chest and her face fills with recognition.

"Eddie," she says happily.

He hums but still doesn't wake. Junie pulls down the blankets, and he raises his arm. Eyes closed, he wraps it around her, pulling her to his chest with a contented sound. She giggles, tiny baby giggles, and starts to play with his hair.

“June,” he mumbles.

“Eddie,” you say, apprehensive, forcing a lightness, “we have company.”

“I can feel that,” he says.

To your — your pleasure, your elation, he turns onto his back and his free hand finds you. His fingers curl around yours and he holds them, thumb pressed to the knuckle of your index finger.

His eyes open slowly, his lashes parting, his face dipped down to take Junie in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he repeats with a laugh. “Aw, Junie, your hair! I’ve never seen you before mommy gets you dressed. Uncle Wayne would say you look like me when I wake up, when I was a kid he,” —Eddie talks through a yawn, smoothing the baby hairs out of Junie’s eyes— “used to say I looked like Linus from the Peanuts strip.”

“That’s so mean,” you say. You're relieved. You should've known Eddie wouldn't care. He loves her.

"You know who you look like?" he asks her.

She shakes her head. His face lights up.

"Animal! Grown up Animal, not the baby."

Your stomach rumbles. Eddie looks at you with concern, though that concern is a mild, soft thing. He sees you properly for the first time since he woke up, Junie held to his chest, hair as messy as hers, as yours probably is, his t-shirt neckline rolled from wear, and he visibly melts.

"D'you wanna go out for breakfast?" you ask.

He shakes his head. "Come here."

"What?"

"Just come here. Lie down."

You ease off of your elbow and slide toward him. You rest your head very carefully beside his, and are immediately delighted when he kisses your cheek.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, pulling his arm out of hiding to steer the side of your face to his. Your noses smush together, eyes closing on instinct. "Hey, how are you?"

"How are you?" you ask back. He sounds super tired.

"Y'always do that. You can't just answer me? You're–" He kisses you, then, softly but with a sluggish imprecision. "Impossible."

"I'm impossible?"

"You're impossible," he promises.

You try not to squish Junie as you wrap your arm around her and bring a hand to his cheek. The tiniest rebirth of stubble scratches your fingertips as they rove up his cheek to the smoothest plane under his eye. You turn your finger until the nail is flat to his skin, stroking a fascinated back and forth.

"I can't believe you're real."

Can't believe you're real, and you chose me, and you're here now letting my baby pull at the sweat curls tight at your neck.

"Do I look bad?" he asks.

You roll your head back enough to see his smile. It makes your heart skip in the best way, how handsome he is, and you have to dive in again to kiss the line between his lips and his cheek. He's really warm. Before him, you'd forgotten how this could feel, the heat that another person can give you and how protected it leaves you.

"You look really nice," you say, your finger rubbing up and down his cheek. A teardrop to his chin that falls and climb over and over.

"Eddie," Junie says, weaselling under your arm.

"What, baby?" he asks.

She tucks herself up under his chin and lifts her head. It's awkward, but babies are like that. Always wanting to be where they aren't.

"Junie?" he asks.

She looks up, dishevelled hair especially fierce.

"You said my name, remember? Did you have something to ask me?"

She giggles at his tone but doesn't answer. Your stomach makes some more aggressive sounds and Eddie shoots up like bamboo, baby held to his chest and hand behind your head.

"Mom's dying."

"Eddie."

"Mom's super duper hungry," he says, stroking your forehead apologetically. "Now move, mom, so we may enter your kitchen and make super duper breakfast."

"Oh, no, let me change her first," you say. "Poor girl, I slept through the entire night."

He passes her over to you and you stand so he can slide out of bed. His smile grows. "Hair fairy got you both," he says.

You glare. "You are not exempt."

"Can I use the bathroom?"

"Don't ask! Since when do you ask?"

"Do you want to go first?"

His caring is sweet but unnecessary. "No. Please go, and spend like ten minutes in there? I promise we'll be much prettier when you get back."

"You're beautiful now," he says, though he obeys your ask and treks out of the bedroom with a wanton groan and a stretch that shows a lot of back. It's more than likely on purpose.

"I'm with my baby!" you yell, laughing.

"Don't know what you mean."

You strip Junie down to her smalls, change her diaper, and rub a nice lotion all over. She loves the skin to skin and stays still until you offer her today's options, two dresses, one blue and one a lighter green. She chooses the green, so you put green butterfly clips in her hair to match, and white socks with lace in black shoes. She looks awesome.

"Girls?" Eddie shouts. "Can I come out now?"

"I was kidding," you murmur to yourself, laughing.

You comb your fingers through your hair and meet him in the bathroom doorway with Junie's hand held in your own, glancing at each other through the gap.

"I wasn't serious."

"Sweetheart," he says, bending at the waist like he's been punched, "look at you. Juniper the Beautiful, holy sugar."

She only smiles.

"I can take her, yeah? I'll make breakfast. Do you want to get dressed?" he asks you, concern again softening the lines of his face.

"Sorry," you say.

"For what?"

He takes your face into his hand, cupping your cheek. You meld into it like you're one and the same, two pieces of the same puzzle clicked back into place. Junie’s hand in yours makes three.

"Alright, Junie, breakfast," he says, pulling apart and away with a humorous brevity, stealing her little hand from yours.

They walk together down the hallway, hands swinging.

"We'll go get breakfast!" you call. That's why you'd put her shoes on.

"I can make it," Eddie says, voice carrying in the quiet. He shoots a smug look over his shoulder. "I can make it, seriously. Just have a minute for yourself, why don't you?"

You wonder if that's code words for you look like shit right now, but you firmly believe Eddie wouldn't tell you that even if you did. You wash up in the bathroom and then get changed into a new-old skirt that you sometimes wear to work though you're not supposed to and a nice shirt that doesn't go. You take it all off and try again. And again.

You pull on a pair of tight sweatpants and the band t-shirt he'd bought you all those weeks ago. For a moment you stand there, face in your hands, and then a big hand presses to your shoulder blade and scares you into flinching.

"Oh, shit," you say.

Eddie laughs a storm and gets his hand under your armpit. That's worse, and you squirm, but he doesn't budge, pulling you toward him for a tight-boned hug.

"You're taking for ages," he says, parroting one of Junie’s newer phrases.

"Well." You shove your face into the top of his shoulder. "I think I'm nervous. Do I look stupid? Nothing fits me."

He hears your embarrassment and your panic and hoists you backward, hands curled around the tops of your arms as he gets a good look.

"You look pretty, and like you need something to eat." He presses his lips together, a funny picture of nervousness to mirror your own. "I know we should probably talk about it, but I don't really know how to do that. Just. Are you still– You don't regret it?"

It sounds clunky in his mouth.

"I don't regret any of it," you say sincerely.

"Good," he says, recovering quickly from this show of vulnerability with a good heaping of bravado, "'cause I was really hoping to get to do this again."

His hands climb your shoulders, settle neatly in the curves of your neck. He holds your face. You wait for him to kiss you.

"What? I brushed my teeth."

He presses his lips to yours all wonky with laughter. It's fleeting, not nearly as long as you want it to be, but Junie shouts something from the kitchen and draws both of your attention.

"It wasn't about you brushing your teeth," he says, back of his hand rubbing yours as he overtakes.

Junie stands in the kitchen with a spatula, a whisk, and the rolling pin, an array of items from the bottom drawer she's in the middle of relocating.

"Sorry I left her, I just wanted to make sure you weren't, like, trying to think of ways to let me down easy. I put the TV on. Not that you can't let me down easy," he says, bending to face Junie.

You shake your head as he starts to help her take things out of the drawer. You don't keep anything sharp in it for this exact reason, Junie's enthusiastic upheaval.

He catches your look. "I'll put them back! Promise."

"It's fine, you know she does it all day anyways."

And really, he should know you won't mind because whenever he's here he helps. Cleans, cooks, soothes her small tantrums and her bigger distresses, like when you won't let her eat laundry powder with the tiny shovel that comes in the box.

He's even started playing the bad guy sometimes. It sounds crazy, but having someone who's willing to say no for you is a sharp relief. To get to be the comforter rather than the nag, and to share a smile over Junie’s distraught head.

"This is positive reinforcement."

"I know both of those words, and yet," Eddie says, closing the now emptied drawer with his foot.

"You helping her take stuff out teaches her that those things should be taken out." You pull open the fridge. "But it doesn't really matter, I'm just saying. Do you want orange or apple juice? June?"

You hold out the carton of apple juice and the gallon of orange. The orange juice is awful, a concentrate with too much sugar, and it's delicious, so Junie picks that one without hesitating. You give her half juice half water in a sippy cup.

"Is mine watered down too?" Eddie asks, accepting the glass you press into his hand.

"I even mixed in some pedialyte. You're welcome."

He nods with more genuineness. "Thank you. Now sit down! I'm making breakfast. I'm gonna make it. What do you want?"

You look at him, fresh but still sleep rumpled, and you think about how hungry you are, and you really like him so much and you get why he wants to do this, but.

"Listen, let's go out. Let's get waffles and syrup and strawberries and nobody will have to do the dishes."

He buckles way too fast. It feels like a big compliment, how quickly you can erode his resistance.

"Alright. Fine, but not because I couldn't have made all of those things."

"Of course not."

"You look crazy pretty when you ask for things, you know? All this time I've been begging you to ask for things and now I'm a little worried. D'you always smile like that? I could be in trouble."

You boo at him and he smiles all the way to the car. He's still smiling as he drops his hand onto your thigh, pulls out of the driveway, and starts down the street leading out of the trailer park. It takes you a minute, but eventually you realise you can touch him back, laying your hand on top of his experimentally.

"Do I look stupid?" he asks.

He's stolen one of your hoodies to hide his slept on shirt. His jeans look messed up from sleeping in, but they're baggy.

"You don't… You could start leaving clothes at my house, you know? If you wanted to– stay again." You swallow a nervous giggle. "I mean."

"Of course I want to stay again. I'd love to. I love being with you."

He squeezes your thigh. If it weren't for his pinking ears, you'd assume him unaffected.

"Okay. Good. You can stay the night whenever you like, handsome, 'cause I love being with you too."

You wonder and worry if your declaration is too close to an I love you he doesn't want. You do love him, have loved him for a while, but you have no clue what you even are. Last night, you'd said best friend. He's more than that, he has to be.

You're in sync, or he can read your mind. He says, "We'll talk about it. After you get some breakfast in you. Your stomach's so loud they just put a weather warning on the radio."

"They did not."

—

Wayne puts a beer down in front of his nephew and doesn't pull any punches.

"If you get that poor girl pregnant, I will disown you. Not her, mind you. Just you."

Eddie thinks this is a very weird thing to say, but he also knows that Wayne is mostly kidding.

"I'm not going to get her pregnant."

Satisfied, Wayne sits down next to Eddie on the couch, the two of them tired from a long day at work, the TV on quietly in the background. It's the same thing they do everyday, or everyday before Eddie met you and your baby.

"I get to meet her, or we just gonna meet at the wedding?"

"Funny," Eddie says. "You can meet her whenever you want to. I kind of didn't think you'd be interested."

Wayne sighs, scrubs his jaw.

"Son, I want to meet her. Her and the baby. I didn't know if it was gonna work, but…" He smiles at Eddie. Eddie thinks that it's a mix of pride and love, and it has a lump forming in his throat near instantly. "I should've known, huh?"

Eddie makes himself scoff.

"Yeah, you should've."

"Only thing you ever half-assed was high school."

"You had to get that one in there."

Quick wit and nipping comments aside, Eddie knows Wayne truly does want to meet you and Junie, and that he should've a long time ago. It had been a cop out to say he didn't think Wayne wanted to meet you, because he knew his uncle had been curious and — he's family. Wayne is Eddie's family, and you and June have become the same.

When he brings it up to you, he does it carefully. With flowers.

You open the door and throw your arms around him, smashing the flowers unapologetically. He chuckles into your neck, pulls you tight to his chest. You smell like the diner.

"How come you never used to do this before?" he asks.

"You never did either."

You take his face into your hands and kiss him, before your usual shyness takes over and you pull away. He's having none of it, grabbing your wrist before you can escape to offer your flowers.

"Here. You'll have to give me one back for Junie, though."

You give him the biggest flower of the bunch, a huge pink carnation with perfect petals and a thick stalk. Your fingertips brush his as you do, and his eyes are drawn to them, your hands, the bump and bone of your knuckles. You still have a scratch from work down the length of your pinky, and they're scrubbed raw as usual from cleaning. He worries you're a little compulsive about cleaning, but he supposes you'd had to have been, all by yourself. He resolves to treat them kindly at the next possible opening.

"Thank you."

You don't blink at his bag from Bradley's. You try not to look at it; Eddie won't accept a thank you and you're trying to let him give you things, as per the arrangement.

As in, you, with Junie in your lap and fresh cream on your cheek, had agreed to be his girlfriend three days ago in the booth of a diner that wasn't Benny's. He hadn't been as brave as he could've been. It felt unreal to him to be with you, to have kissed you more times than he could remember, and to have you smiling back.

"Listen, I know you said we're best friends, and we are, you're my best friend, but I– we're more. I want to be your boyfriend." He rolled the word around so you'd know how strange he though it was. "But if you've… changed your mind–"

You'd reached across the table, pads of your fingers stroking the back of his wrist. "Why would I change my mind?"

"You realise, if we're together, you have to let me take care of you all the time?" he'd asked, full of nervous energy and really, really pleased. Proud to have you.

"I think I can deal with it."

He'd rubbed the toe of his shoe against your ankle and finally told you about the cream on your face.

"Junie?" he says now, eyes searching for your lovely daughter.

"She's in the bedroom."

"What for?"

You squeeze your hand through the crook of his arm, press your cheek to the top of his shoulder, and laugh. "She's making Eddie's bed, apparently. I tried to explain that you won't be sleeping here all the time but I might have made it worse."

Did you make it worse, or had your toddler misunderstood? He hates how even in the small things you'll blame yourself. This feels like a completely blameless situation, and, if anything, it's his fault, he's the one who stayed the night, and then another night, and another. He'd gone home between those days, had even gone to work, and really didn't mean to spend the night each time. It's addictive to get to sleep with you so close by. Getting to kiss you with your arm slung over his chest, your tired eyes staring up at him lovingly — he's a good person but he's weak, too.

He knows it's a little improper to stay this close so soon. If he thought for a second you weren't okay with it he'd be out the door.

"Eddie?" you ask.

"What?"

"You're staring straight through me," you say, sounding both amused and concerned. "What are you thinking about?"

"You, mostly. You and June. You know, Wayne wants to meet you."

You shake the bouquet at him, brows furrowed accusingly. "Is this a bribe?"

"'Course not… Are they working?"

"I don't need flowers. I want to meet him too. It's weird we haven't met before. You keeping us apart?"

"I absolutely am. I was a gross kid, I don't need him to tell you all of that now I actually got you."

Eddie draws away from you reluctantly to put his bag on the table, as well as June's flower. He pulls out the dinner he's brought for tonight and his most important purchase, a vase big enough for your flowers. It's simple clear glass with dainty enamel flowers around the circumference.

"For you, my sweetheart, a vase for the flowers. You want me to cut the stems?"

You beam at him, a shining smile that makes his chest feel fizzy, a can of soda on a rollercoaster as the sound of thumping comes from the bedroom, small footsteps racing to the door.

"Think she heard you," you say. You smile, take the vase, and kiss his cheek in a silent thank you.

Sure enough, Junie appears down the hall and Eddie's barely taken three steps when she's laughing and pawing at his legs, having raced all the way.

"Eddie," she cheers, arms up in the universal sign for 'grab me before I start screaming'.

He's more than happy to get his hands under her arms and pull her to his chest, your mini me breathing hard as she settles. Her hand presses into his collarbone, her lips puckered up for a kiss. He doesn't usually kiss her, doesn't really know where the line is, but denying her feels cruel. He kisses her cheek and feels her lips press to his cheek at the same time.

"Thank you," he coos, "thank you for the kiss, baby, I'm happy to see you too."

"See you," she says, patting his neck.

"How do I look? Handsome?"

She tangles her fingers in his hair.

"So, Uncle Wayne, does he like me?"

Eddie leans against the countertop you're facing so he can see your face. "He's never met you."

"Duh, but does he like me?"

"Probably. He has a bunch of reasons to like you and none not to like you."

"Doesn't hate me for stealing his baby boy?"

Eddie wonders if he's going red. "No, god, he'd thank you for it. Man hasn't had a quiet night in a decade and a half." You laugh softly, fingers weaving through flowers to arrange their leaves and stalks, and he catches a flash of uncertainty as it twists your mouth. "Seriously, he'll like you. I know everybody says it 'bout everyone, but Wayne's a good man."

"I know he's a good man, just…" You frame the flowers with your hands and step back. You smile at him to unsuccessfully hide an insecurity he can spot a mile away. "I'm not the girl people would pick for their son, you know?"

He raises his eyebrows, feels bad and drops them. Eddie lives in a trailer park, and has done for most of his life, it's not like the people around here are prudent about love and partners: Eddie's obviously not the first guy to ever date somebody who already has a kid. He doesn't wanna brush it under the rug, though. Your worrying worries him.

"I think you're exactly who he'd pick." He smiles at you in warning. You asked for this, sweetheart, buckle in. "Gorgeous girl with a perfect body," —you snort— "'n' a heart of gold." He pats between Junie's shoulders where she's oh so quiet in his arms, an affectionate slump over his heart. "And her pretty baby, too. I'd choose you for my kid. You know, if I was old. And I had one."

You wrap Junie up with one hand, the other placed sweetly over his shoulder. Your thumb strokes into his skin. "Thanks, Shakespeare," you say, letting your head dip down until your lips are flat to his shirt.

He drops his head into yours.

"Do you think he should come over for dinner?" you ask quietly.

"What, today?"

"It's gonna make me nervous thinking about it otherwise. What did you bring? Or maybe I can get pizza?"

He encourages your head back, palm to the side of your head. He strokes down until his hand covers your ear and curls around the curve of your neck. Insanely, he thinks it is a privilege to get to see you upset and to get to try and fix it.

"I can ask him, and he's not fussy. You're sure you want to do this today? I could host, you know, or we could go out."

You shake your head, looking grim. Dread clear in your eyes, you say, "I'll obsess over it. Can you call him before I lose my nerve, please? Do you think that would be alright?"

You ask like he genuinely might say no. He hasn't had the power to say no to you for months.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I can call 'im."

You offer to take Junie and it's funny because she doesn't need to be held right now and yet neither of you want to put her down. She's relaxed and Eddie doesn't see why she should have to be anywhere else but in his arms, hiking her up his chest in one arm to use the phone. He slots the receiver between his shoulder and his head and types in Wayne's number without having to look. He's typed it hundreds of times, at friend's houses, at the school nurse when his Mom's didn't work anymore, at the Hideout. Just to say, I'll be home late, but don't worry.

He extends the invitation with a teasing tone. "You wanna come around for dinner? Old lady's asking."

"You can't call her your old lady, son, not yet. That's a privilege you gotta earn."

Eddie laughs down the line. "What's wrong with old lady? I'm keeping it respectful, classy, aren't I? She's making burgers."

"You better be helping her."

"How can I help her? I'm on the phone to you."

"What time am I expected?"

"Let me ask." He pulls June back up where she's slipping, mouth lifted from the phone to grab your attention. "What time are you thinking, sweetheart?"

"It can be done whenever he wants it," you say, elbow deep in ground beef.

"Give us an hour, okay? Don't fill up on shit."

"Yeah, boy, I won't. Better leave me alone to wash up, or I can come in my overalls–"

"Alright, Wayne." He hopes it sounds like 'love you'. "See you in an hour. Don't forget."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm that old," Wayne says, followed by the sound of the phone on the hook.

Eddie passes it to Junie where she'd been dying to have a turn. He can't let her play too long, guilty already watching you chopping and dicing and washing. He sets her up on your couch with her army of teddies and a peach juice box from Bradley's. He'd picked them up thinking they were weird, and that he'd wanted Junie to try them if she hadn't before. She seems pleased with it, back and legs straight across the pillow, head bent in a way that would give a grown up a sore neck for the foreseeable future, socked feet wiggling along to the music playing on her show.

He returns to find you washing your hands. Eddie wants to kiss your neck but doesn't have a clue in the world if he's allowed to do that now or ever, so he folds his arms over yours like a hug.

"Can I get some of that?"

You squirt dish soap into his palm. He's expecting grumbling and complaining at his weird position, but you say nothing, only laugh. You wash his hands for him, thumb rubbing down the small hills of his fingers until he has to wash off the suds, squishing you to the countertop edge with a feigned apology.

You squeal with laughter. "Get off," you plead.

"I'm so tired, suddenly, I don't know what it is."

"Eddie," you moan, well and truly sandwiched under his weight.

He pecks your neck and stands properly in search of a hand towel to dry off your dripping hands. He towels his, passes it to you, and uses his dry hands to cradle your face. He thinks you look beautiful but admittedly very tired, and lowers his voice to an adoring murmur.

"You can go sit down, if you want to."

"Oh, no, there's too much to do," you say, and though you're denying him, your face lists heavily into one of his hands. You close your eyes for a moment before looking up at him through your lashes. "I can do it."

"I know you can do it, I just don't want you to have to."

He pulls you closer, his elbows pushed into your shoulders.

"I'm really good at making burgers. S'like, my signature dish. That's why I got stuff for burgers, 'cause I wanted to cook tonight."

You still don't budge.

"Go on," he murmurs, "go get your cuddles."

Junie, upon realising Eddie would be sleeping in your bed, has taken to climbing on top of him and insisting she get to stay in the big bed. She's hogging him, and it's clear you're not unaffected. Not jealous, not bitter, but missing your baby.

You're in mild withdrawals, and it makes sense. After all, she gets her extreme need for affection from you.

"You're sure?" you ask, frowning softly.

"Yes," he says, laughing and pushing you away gently, "trust me, sweetheart, I can make dinner. You gotta take my flower for June, though." He picks it up off of the counter and twirls it under your chin. "I forgot all about it, you distracted me."

You take the flower but hesitate in front of him.

"Kiss?" you ask, eyebrows popped up.

He bends backward, hand coming up to cover his mouth. "You have it bad, huh?"

"Forget I asked," you faux-threaten, spinning on your heel to leave.

Eddie follows, spins you right back around with a hushed, "Where do you think you're going?" and kisses you, hand sliding up your cheek.

One kiss turns to two, your lips parting slightly under the pressure. He grins and goes in for a third.

—

You don't sit down for long. You steal a Junebug cuddle, in which she insists on sharing her juice box with you and kisses you upwards of twenty times. You giggle giddily, the petals of the flower you've tucked behind her ear almost blinding you with each one. They're drooly and gross and lovely to begin with, less wet when you leave to find something for her to wear.

The dress she wears now is dirty from daycare, and the applesauce, crackers, and peanut butter you'd given her earlier stain the neck. You pick out a simple matching set of not-quite pyjamas. You want Wayne to know you dress her well, but you'd feel bad if she had to suffer any longer in clothes with buttons and zips.

Once she's changed, she's somehow even happier than she was. Now she's settled into daycare and your routine, she's over the moon all the time. She's finally settled in, and you have Eddie to thank for a good chunk of it. He's a great part of her routine, another person who wants to love and dote on her. While you know you'd been doing a great job by yourself, any extra love at all is welcome. You could love him for how he loves her and nothing else, only there's a thousand other things about him to love.

Like his singing. You can hear him humming, then riffing, spatula scratching the frying pan as he rocks out to a song you can't hear. You're playing with Junie's toes, as strange as it sounds, wiggling and tickling the sole of her feet.

"Mommy?" she says breezily.

"What?" you ask, leaning to her eye level, fluffy bed socks in hand.

"Special treats for dinner?"

You can't believe the improvements in her speech, though it's natural, and it would've happened eventually. And it blows your mind because you'd known she was in there, she's a great listener and she's so patient for a toddler, but knowing she's having these thoughts and then having her voicing them now is something else completely. It's amazing.

You tuck the sock under her pant leg and beam at her. "Yeah, baby, we're having special treats after dinner. Eddie's making burgers with the cheese," you hum, offering your open hand for her to hold. "And… his Uncle Wayne is coming by for dinner. So we're gonna meet him and say hi to him and be super nice, okay?"

"Okay. What's for treats?"

"I don't know, you'll have to ask Eddie. Should we go ask him?"

She nods enthusiastically and slides off of the sofa, gand in yours. She walks with a wobbly confidence into the kitchen, where the smell of searing hamburgers and black pepper is cloying.

Eddie turns with the spatula, slouched with one elbow on the counter. He perks up when he sees Junie in her fresh clothes.

"Hey, bub, look at you!"

"She has something to ask you."

Eddie crouches down. "Anything. What do you want to ask me, Junie?"

"What's for," —her voice is small, high-pitched and clumsy but sweet— "... have for…"

"Dessert," you whisper. "For treats."

"What's for treats?" she asks, smiling.

You sigh with pride and Eddie mirrors your expression. "Well," he says, reaching out to readjust the flower peaking in front of her hair, "I brought two things, cherry ice pops and cheesecake."

"Oh," Junie says, "my gosh."

You leave them in their love bubble and change into your nice (bleach stained, agonisingly bleach stained) jeans, rather than meet Wayne in your waitressing skirt and blouse. Eddie wolf whistles as soon as you emerge, Junie now happily perched on his hip as he moves the burgers onto a plate to wait in the oven. Junie turns and drops the slice of cheese she was holding, startled at the noise.

"Is this awful?" you ask, pointing to the thin line of bleach across your thigh.

"'This' is killer," Eddie says.

"No, but can you see the bleach?"

"Not really. If you need new jeans, we can go get some."

The I can't afford it begs to be said, though you know exactly what he'll say in response.

"Not right now," he amends. "They look fine, okay? He won't notice. I had my first tattoo for three weeks before he saw it."

You lean over the sink to open the window and let some clean air in. Eddie goes back to the plate, and Junie drops another slice of cheese.

The knock at the door startles you. You're unprepared, terrified, and you haven't wiped down the dinner table yet. Eddie sees your panic and shakes his head at you.

"It's fine. You want me to answer?"

"We should both answer," you say, with a confidence you are not feeling.

You hold your hands out for Junie. She's a safety blanket.

Please like me, you think, letting Eddie pull you to the door.

—

You have nice shoulders. Eddie feels like he's had this thought before. Often, he looks at you, and he finds something new to catch onto and to obsess about. This hasn't changed in the few days you've been together. It's gotten worse.

He can see the top of Junie's head against your shoulder but not her sleeping face. You sway her from side to side and he can see you arms shaking with the effort it takes to have been holding her for this long, your quiet humming now a whisper of sounds. The gentle thudding of your hand against the bottom of her spine stops, and you turn to look at him, a question in your eyes.

He nods. Looking good.

You ease her down into her toddler bed and spend some time pulling the blankets over her legs, tucking her small army of teddies in beside her.

Finger to your lips, you and Eddie creep out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen. There's nothing to clean. His Uncle Wayne is a stickler who couldn't not help clean up.

Wayne had definitely liked you. You're still glowing with it. It had been a great time, not nearly as awkward as you'd feared, and Eddie's feeling pretty content right now. You waste no time collapsing on the couch. A sippy cup under your hip, cushions in disarray at your head. Eddie grabs the half of the cheesecake that's left and two spoons and sits right next to you, thigh to thigh, no need for friendly space anymore. He forces the spoon into your hand, slides the cheesecake onto your thigh, and moves the sippy cup out of the way.

"My arms are too tired," you mumble, dropping back into the cushions. Junie had piled them all up behind Wayne's head. She was extra, extra nice.

"Want me to feed you? I can baby bird you."

"Ew. That image never gets any less disgusting, Eddie."

It's been Eddie all day. What's a guy gotta do to get a 'handsome'? A 'baby'?

He laughs around a spoonful of cheesecake and twists his foot behind your calf, linking your legs. You've managed to finally get cable, and an episode of Jeopardy plays on mute across the room. There are toys everywhere, the kind of mess that you'll spend three hours putting right, sorting and spritzing and wiping with Junie behind you pulling things back out.

Eddie's already got the clothes here to stay, and Wayne had said, "See you tomorrow," when he left, but Eddie asks anyway.

"Can I stay over?"

You sit up to drop your face heavily into his shoulder.

"Please, handsome. Don't want you to go home."

There's the pet name he'd been searching for. A warmth climbs all over, a twinge in his stomach. He heaps cheesecake onto your spoon and presses the handle into your fingers. You eat it slowly, tip of your tongue making an unexpected appearance when a crumb sticks to your lip.

You make a sound that should probably be illegal and drop the spoon into the cheesecake casing, freeing your arm to wrap it around his chest. You nuzzle your nose into his skin, sniffing.

He laughs from happiness and nothing else, making good work of the cheesecake while you doze. He's not an animal, leaving some for you and June if you want more tomorrow, but he isn't temperate, either. He's thinking this might be the perfect life, you and your baby, Uncle Wayne laughing at your kitchen table, Junie in the high chair beside him trying to make a babbling conversation. She'd managed a couple of proper words and an impressive sentence, much better at answering than asking but trying either way.

"You're a ringer for your mom, kid, you look like twins," he'd said softly.

"Ring-ring," she'd said happily, excited to have understood. She'd offered her hand to him, pinky and thumb stuck out.

Wayne, grinning, had answered the phone.

"June loved Wayne," Eddie says conversationally.

"Junie loves everybody," you say through a yawn, hand soothing up and down his side greedily. "Not like she loves me and you, but she does. She keeps hugging all the other babies at daycare and they don't know how to stop her."

"What? You've never told me that."

"I didn't know 'till this morning." Your fingers find and breach the hem of his shirt, pads tracing to the small of his back.

"God, you're cuddly tonight. Here, let me–" He moves the cheesecake. "Come here."

You groan, "No, this is fine."

"Sit on my lap, loser."

"I'm heavy."

True or not, Eddie wants you in his lap, and he's selfish, pulling at you like a kid not getting his way. You end up flopping over his lap to stop him, curled into an uncomfortable but darling position. He gets his hand behind your ear and turns your face, wanting to see your eyes and your nose and your lips.

Your eyes are bright in the lighting.

"Wayne liked you," he says, stroking down the shell of your ear with his thumb.

"I can see why you're so kind," you say.

You smile at each other.

"I don't know what I did."

Eddie leans down, tilts his head to line up with yours, his eyes flicking between the lightness softening your gaze or the curve of your top lip, calling him in like a siren. "What did you do?" he murmurs.

"To get so lucky," you say. "I don't know. I must have been a saint, in a past life."

"A past life," he repeats.

Your eyes find his and narrow. He knows where you're looking, that little dot of dark hiding beneath his eyelashes. You move over his lap carefully, hands behind his neck to anchor yourself. Your thighs against his thighs, ankles locking him in, your hands always so gentle where they play in his hair.

He thinks there's a kind of melancholy to moments like this. He panics, in his way, in his head, because there are no guarantees. This perfect night with a perfect girl could be it. There are many bad things that could happen, unspeakable, and he gets this trip in his chest like a fuse shorting out.

He should slow down and tell you what he feels. How you're his and he's the lucky one, goddamn, he's never had luck like this in his life.

He smooths his thumb across your lips and stops at the corner, momentarily ashamed of his big, clumsy hand, and permanently in awe of your softness, your goodness, how it lines every feature on your brilliant face.

You lean in for a kiss.

Your lips are parted, and he thinks you might've read his mind, the hunger and the fear he'd felt, the heart-pounding reverence, that split second of wanting to say something he shouldn't yet. It feels like you read his mind; your lips kiss and kiss and your hands tremble minutely behind his head. The heat of your tongue shocks him like the first drag, has his hand bawling in the fabric of your shirt, a low sigh smothered by your attention.

Your nose touches his. In the days since his confession you've endured a frankly overzealous amount of his kissing. He's had you in bed, in the kitchen, just outside the front door. Some heavy handed, some sweeter than sugar, none ever for anything but kisses. Your ardency surprises and excites him — his pulse is a freight train, pounding in his veins as you yield. Your head tips back slow, your gasping breaths a golden sound he endeavours to keep forever.

When you lay back, it's quietly, hand at his front and encouraging you to lay with him. He props himself up on his side, one hand feeling for your upper arm, wishing you'd worn something with shorter sleeves so he could feel your skin. The other covers the column of your throat. He can feel your too-fast breathing in his palm, your shallow gasps.

Your eyes close again as he ducks in. He rubs a line with the tip of his nose next to yours, the heat emanating off of your skin thickening the air. Or, that's what it feels like.

"Kiss me," you say under your breath. This close, you might as well have shouted it.

He kisses you until not one of you can breathe properly, and a little after that, too. His thumb ghosts under the curve of your breast and he can feel the tightness of the question between you, a string pulled taut by your hand and his.

"Sweetheart," he says, trying to pour all of his affection and something deeper into the word, "do you want to…"

"What?" you ask.

He lifts his head off of yours and waits. You open your eyes in confusion, though that confusion quickly turns when you hear what he's hearing.

Movement. Little feet.

He pulls his weight off of you and helps you up, brushing down your hair, your hot cheeks. You move away from his hand without malice, and when he turns he's not at all surprised to see baby Junie in her pyjamas, the ear of a teddy clasped in a small fist.

You press your arm to his.

"Sorry," you whisper.

He turns to you, blinks three times quick. "Baby, it doesn't matter." It's unfortunate, but not as unfortunate as your mortified expression. He holds his hand out to Junie where she's meandering toward you, exhausted steps unsafe but determined.

She reaches his knees, and Eddie helps her up to sit between you both, his arm behind her head.

You stroke her hair. The look you give him is pensive and loving at once. You lift your chin, and he presses a saccharine, chaste kiss against your kiss bitten lips.

Junie falls asleep again near immediately. Eddie finds your hand in the mess of limbs and gives it a good squeeze.

"Bed?" he asks.

You slouch down. "In a minute?"

He slouches down with you, letting his temple drop against yours over Junie's sleeping figure.

"Whatever you want."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! im so happy they’re together this is my fave part of every fic, aimless adoration <3 im not sure what to write for part sis so I’d love to hear what you want to see there, thanks so much

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #mom!reader #eddie munson x mom!reader

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pixiesfz · 9 months ago

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baby fever j.r

plot: It's about two years into your relationship and you claim you've never had the baby fever....until now

warnings: fluff, short

When you were younger you hated the idea of pregnancy which lead you to the idea that you didn't want children.

But you would always wave to the little kids in the crowd and sign their T-shirts with a smile on your face.

But you still knew that you would never give birth.

The horror stories you had heard or even just thinking about a human growing inside of you made you pale.

You had never had the 'baby fever' that your friends have had.

Until now.

Your older brother had come into town with his wife and little baby boy Thomas.

You always found him cute but he didn't make you weak at the knee's wanting to have children....but this was a certain sight.

You were huddled with Mary and Lauren when you saw the sight, they were still talking about a tackle you had faced in the middle of the game, not noticing your absence in the conversation.

Your head was swiveled towards your girlfriend as she held your nephew, her smile wide on her face as she lifted him up and down, his giggles loud.

"Aw that's so cute" Esme cooed at the sight and you slowly nodded, engaged at the sight.

Jill, your girlfriend or soon-to-be fiancé (your ring for her is still in your sock draw)

Jill your girlfriend with a baby

Jill your smiling girlfriend with a smiling baby.

Your knee's finally felt weak and it was not from the game.

Maybe you did want a baby.

"I'm not sure of what I'm feeling right now" you admitted to the younger girl who smiled "Baby fever" she breathed out "but I've never wanted to give birth" you whispered

Jill was now running around the field with Thomas, catching him when he almost dropped to the floor.

"You don't have to give birth to have a child, there's always adoption," Esme said, her hand on your shoulder before leaving to go have a shower.

Adoption.

You were thinking too much about her words, you didn't see the young boy before he latched onto your leg, "Auntie Y/n!" he cheered "hey Tommy" you smiled, picking him up and settling him into his lap.

"He's fast" Jill smiled, slightly out of breath as he cheered out of satisfaction of out running the girl.

"yeah he is" you spoke "got it from his Auntie" you smirked and he nodded, latching himself more onto you.

You saw Jill's eyes change in emotion and you creased your eyebrows "you okay?" you asked and the girl looked at you "pardon?" she asked "I asked if you were okay?" you said and she nodded "yeah".

"You're really good with kids," she told you as Thomas started to slowly fall asleep on your shoulder "You are too, got him all tired, and now he won't annoy his parents on the way home" you complimented the Dutch girl and you both smiled at each other, almost as if there was an understanding between you both.

"Smile!" A camera man yelled out and you both turned around, Jill wrapping her arm around you, as you made sure Thomas's head was turned around.

"Do I look like I've just played 90 minutes of football?" you asked and Jill laughed "You look pretty" she said and kissed your forehead, from afar you would've looked like a family.

The drive home was quiet but comfortable, your efforts in the game catching up as you grew tired, resting your head on your own shoulder as Jill smiled, looking back at you every now and then.

Jill knew about your hatred of pregnancy and the fear you had of it.

Which is why she was so scared to bring up the thought of children, scared that you would shut her down. She knew she couldn't just let this go, she knew she wanted to raise a child and she couldn't fall in love with you anymore if you didn't

When you checked your phone you smiled, video's of you and Jill with your niece were growing popular as fans commented of how cute it was and you agreed.

You didn't want to give birth but you did want children.

You wanted children with Jill.

The conversation came up after an ad of a little kid playing with toys came up and you had finally cracked, picking up the remote and playing pause on your TV show it was love island btw.

"Have you ever thought about having children with me?" you asked, ripping the band-aid off.

Jill was shocked, dropping her fork into her bowl and swallowing her soup quickly "Uhm" she started and you shrunk back into your seat, immediately regretting your questions.

"Yes I have" she admitted and you let out a breath of air "thank god" you muttered and Jill sat up "I thought you didn't want children?" she asked softly and you crossed your head "I thought so too but when I saw you with Thomas yesterday Esme opened her smart stupid mouth and then I got all smushy and I haven't stopped thinking about it ever since" you admitted and Jill smirked

"Is this why you cried when that little girl came up to you and gave you a hug at the cafe yesterday?"

"shut up" you told her and moved closer to her body "I don't want to give birth" you whispered, scared of her reaction "and I don't expect you too" you said, reassuring her of any thought she had.

"but adoption, adopting a child and giving them a good life, a life they deserve" you listed on, missing the way Jill's eyes glossed over.

"I know some people don't believe in adoption but I want to have children, especially with you" you finished, looking up to see Jill who was smiling and nodding "yeah?" you asked "yes" she said and you brought your hands to her face, wiped away her tears and delicately brought your lips to hers.

Jill moved away "wait this first" she said and ran to your shared room, coming back with her hands behind her back.

"I wanted to do this in a more romantic area but I can't imagine being with you as just your girlfriend for another minute"

Your hands lifted up to your mouth as she revealed the velvet box and lowered down onto one knee.

"Y/n" she started and you nodded your head repeatedly "You couldn' just let me do the romantic speech," she asked you with a laugh,tears now streaming now down both of your faces.

"I have your ring in my sock drawer" you admitted as you leant your foreheads together.

"I guess I got there first".

#woso #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso community #jill roord #jill roord x reader #jill roord imagine

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queenofthearchipelago · 7 months ago

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Long Rant about the Watcher Thing

The thing about what's happening with Watcher is that I'm a musician. I understand deeply the difficulties that come with an artist making their art and needing money and the relationship with the people that art is for. So I understand that Watcher needs money to pay their employees and maintain their business.

That said, they revealed that they have 25 employees (half of which are nepotism hires and friends from BuzzFeed) and that one episode of Ghost Files costs "hundreds of thousands of dollars." (Ghost Files being their most expensive show by bar, not their average spending habits per Watcher episode)

I understand from a few people I've seen who are in their Patreon that they make at least 100k per month from the patreon. And then there's the money they get from youtube itself from the views. And then there's the money they get from the ads.

Now I understand that Ryan said this decision came down to primarily 2 things: the ad companies were making them feel stifled with what they could do (which they don't explain how), and they want more money to be able to keep up a higher production quality.

I'm going to skip past the thing about the ads. They never specified how the ad companies were making them change their content in a way that made them feel unsatisfied. I can't speak or provide any opinions on why they want so badly to escape needing ad deals.

But I can talk about the higher production quality they speak of and that's specifically because Ryan said that they wanted to pay for a higher production quality FOR US. "For you guys."

We... we didn't ask for higher production. This is NOT a decision they need to make on our account. I understand and respect if they aren't creating on they level they want. But it's odd that they're speaking towards not being able to afford their current spending habits, as if this is something we asked them to do.

I've read a lot of comments about this and I agree with a lot of you that it's odd that this decision to switch to streaming coincides with the return of Worth It, a show that when produced by Steven, seems like it could easily cost just as much as Ghost Files to produce.

I understand why it feels like this is all Steven's fault. His vibes in the video today, compared to Ryan and Shane, made it seem like he was the most excited about it. It's Steven that has been highlighted multiple times as the business man, the one who makes the financial decisions. It's Steven's shows on Watcher that get canceled after one or two seasons, meanwhile Ryan and Shane's shows just keep going to 5 seasons and beyond.

Shane even said it explicitly, that there are "shows that didn't do as well on youtube, that might do better on a streaming service."

But most of the fans DO watch Watcher for Ryan and Shane, they always have. Steven's shows don't do as well. When Watcher brings in a new host and makes a new show for them, those shows do even worse.

I know this upsets Ryan, he's been very vocal about wanting Watcher to expand beyond himself and Shane. He wants his company to be successful regardless of whether he's in front of the camera or not.

But I feel like this step is trying to force it. Right now, this is still Ryan and Shane's channel. This is why we're here. The people haven't latched onto Steven as much, and the attempts to bring in new hosts have been unsuccessful.

There are lots of comments floating around about why Watcher didn't do what Rhett and Link did and open up youtube membership. Or why didn't they host more live events. Or why didn't they do more livestreams. These all could have been fantastic ideas that wouldn't betray the fans.

Because I do think they forgot that their fanbase is largely women in their 20s. People are right in bringing up the cost of living crisis, in bringing up how many subscription services we're already subscribed to. And my heart goes out to the international viewers who can't access the website at all in their country and the ones who can't afford it because Watcher forgot to consider the currency difference.

I feel that they have betrayed their fanbase. I remember when Watcher started and Ryan admitted he was scared no one would watch. And then we showed up for them because we loved them and what they did.

But now most of the fans can't or won't follow them where they're going. And I think Ryan might know this too from the way he said If this is goodbye, it's been fun.

I wish they would have tried other things before hard launching a streaming service. I wish they would have had a long game plan to get to the place they wanted to be as a company and as creatives.

I feel betrayed but I also don't want this company going bankrupt. If they go bankrupt, then we truly have lost them forever. I hope they take a look at the overwhelming backlash, at their falling subscriber numbers, and I hope they reconsider doing this.

#just a rant of my thoughts right now #watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane medej #thoughtsfromthequeen

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edoro · 6 months ago

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i don't blame anyone for not knowing that Thistle was Literally Trafficked and that Freinag's advisors bought him and presented him as a gift because Freinag threw a baby tantrum because he wanted an elven servant as a living conversation piece, and that from the very beginning Thistle's purpose in the Melini court was "cute exotic pet for Freinag to show off"

because it's all in supplemental material. because the only person in the comic who knows this for sure is Thistle.

we can't completely assume that what Yaad tells Laios and co is 100% of what he's been told by Delgal, and that he isn't leaving things out or massaging the story into a convenient shape to position Thistle as an antagonist who must be stopped, because he's certainly canny enough to do that

but i think we can pretty comfortably imagine that it could be everything Yaad knows, and that if it's not, it's still probably pretty close to the story Delgal has told him. and it's fairly clear that Delgal has presented things in a certain light, characterized Thistle in a certain way, and from there we have to wonder: how much of that is on purpose?

certainly some of it is, because Delgal is very avoidant and the actual truth of the matter is that he shares a significant portion of the blame here, but all of it? i could very easily see Delgal not knowing that his father bought and owns Thistle. from his perspective, Thistle's just been there since before he was born and was a constant and loving companion - and confidante and caretaker - throughout his life.

so if Delgal doesn't know, then how could Yaad? and how could anyone else know if Thistle isn't going to tell them, and why would he?

the comic about how Thistle came to court and the elf cake comic are, i think, two of the most crucial pieces to understanding Thistle, because when you take them together, what you get is:

Thistle was abandoned at birth. between his birth and when Freinag's advisors bought him, someone raised him, fed him, clothed him, taught him to speak, and taught him how to play a couple of instruments well enough that he could entertain a king. whoever did that then - after twenty-odd years of being the closest thing he had to a family following the separation from his birth parent, something which he wouldn't be able to consciously remember but which would nonetheless have left him with a visceral and entirely subconscious belief that He Can Be Abandoned At Any Time And If That Happens He Will Die, because that's what happens to babies that are left alone - sold him.

so by the time he was the human equivalent of 5 or 6, he'd been taught that nothing is permanent, no one loves him enough to keep him, he will be abandoned, and that ultimately he is both a commodity and a curiosity, and any hope of having a home or being cared for depends on pleasing whoever owns him.

to make matters worse, Freinag didn't even like him at first. he scowled and sulked and the advisors, over Thistle's head, told Freinag that they needed to make sure he was harmless, that he was a perfectly impressive status symbol, and to just make sure he didn't get too attached. and Freinag proceeded to sulk for at least a couple of days (two different outfits on Thistle) before deciding he liked him.

Thistle didn't even have a name when he was bought. what did he spend the last 20-odd years of his life being called? how long did it take for Freinag to warm up enough to give him the cat-you-found-in-a-dumpster-ass name he ended up giving him?

no fucking wonder he latched onto the Melinis as hard as he did. no wonder he was so obsessively devoted to Delgal, the closest thing he had to a friend or someone who treated him as an equal. he was abandoned, bought and sold as a status symbol, told quite explicitly that he would only be tolerated as long as he was harmless and entertaining, and loved like a pet until Freinag had a real son.

no wonder he was so eager to prove himself. no wonder he would have done anything Delgal said. no wonder that he rewrote reality itself to try to keep Delgal safe and happy. no wonder he's so scared all the time - he has to have been scared his whole life, desperate to belong and horribly aware of just how easily he could be discarded, starving for love to fill the gaping primal wound in him from the kind of abandonment he experienced.

no wonder his idea of love is to keep people smothered and trapped, like birds in a cage. that's the only kind of love anyone ever showed him.

#thistle #dunmeshi #dunmeshi spoilers #kind of all over the place but man. this kid.

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deeppenguinstudent · 3 months ago

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I don't think we talk about kevjean in the banquets enough

Kevin is soft with Jean's name in his mouth. Jean had to smile at Kevin to taunt him at the bequest of Riko, probably to show faux hatred towards Kevin for leaving the Ravens so no one catches on what exactly he felt for Kevin. Happiness he left Riko and could finally prove he was better but bitterness because he left Jean there in the Nest, knowing damn well what Riko would have done to him.

The fact that both of them stared at each other with nothing to say. Kevin and Jean, who used to never have enough time to finish conversations and never sat in silence in the Nest when they were alone, turned into strangers overnight. They had to wait until Riko was away to actually indulge in meaningful conversation that was so rare yet grounding for both of them in the Nest.

Jean was probably forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Kevin as he spoke to Neil and let his eyes roam when Riko was distracted in antagonising the Foxes.

This was probably something he was forced to say. Do you think Riko made Jean do the talking first because he maybe knew that Kevin had a soft spot for him? The You won't stay might be referring to how Kevin wouldn't stay with the Foxes, but I like that it also implies that Jean maybe still has some hope that Kevin would come back to them, to him. It sounds like most of his words are straight from Riko, but you can see the underlying plea in Jean's words.

He antagonizes Andrew mainly because he doesn't understand why Kevin would leave him for Andrew. He doesn't understand their relationship, and it gnaws at him that maybe Kevin meant much more to him than he ever did to Kevin. He's reminded of how Kevin used French against him and wonders whether their little tryst was nothing but a closed off street at Kevin's end. Spiralling, Jean allows himself to unfold and spit out his venom and jealousy to the Foxes; particularly the one that stole Kevin away from him.

This is arguably my favourite scene in the second banquet. Although it's short, it really puts into perspective their entire relationship within like 2 paragraphs. (That's reaching but you get what I mean.)

First off, let's talk about how Jean doesn't register Riko's words at first. He doesn't respond to 'Take Kevin and leave us'. I believe this is because previously, Riko would rather tear his own hand off than allow Jean and Kevin to be in the same room alone without Riko. So this comes as a shock for him. It's a fleeting moment, and he thinks he probably just imagined Riko's words.

Seized is a strong word, and I believe it speaks a lot at how desperate Jean was to even converse with Kevin in the banquet at all. Perhaps he gave a wide berth because he half expected Riko to strike him down for even attempting to seize Kevin and take him away. Seized literally means he forcibly pulled Kevin's arm towards him, and Kevin did not budge. He didn't complain, grunt out, or even do anything as he let Jean grab his arm. (I can just imagine Jean with his chest pressed against Kevin's arm speedwalking away, and I find it so adorably heartbreaking)

Jean also moves as fast as he can, showing that he wants to get away as soon as possible with Riko far, far behind them. He wants alone time with Kevin. He just wants to talk to him without the Ravens or Foxes breathing down his neck.

I genuinely wonder what Kevin would be thinking at this moment. What would he feel as the boy he left behind the Nest is taking him by the arm and pulling away from his abuser; this time, when he leaves, Jean was with him. Does he think about how easy it is to just leave with Jean beside him? Does he also want to grab onto Jean and not let go of fear of what Riko would do to him when Kevin is not there? Can he feel Jean's body heat as a stupid reminder that he's still alive and not bleeding out from Riko's scars?

Jean, going still at Dan and Matt's approach, could also signify that he fully expected to be punished for even latching himself onto Kevin, like Kevin was a sin he was foolish enough to be addicted to. I just want to know Dan and Matt's expression as they see Jean grasping onto Kevin so tightly, like, what do they see? Do they see Riko's dog doing it's masters bidding, or do they see Jean for who he is; a boy irrevocably in love with someone he can never ever have. A boy so desperate that even few seconds in the banquet keeps him going for a few days after.

Jean grasping onto Kevin could honestly mean a multitude of things, but I like to see it as Jean finally understanding that Kevin is not meant to be in evermore, isn't meant to be a comforting solace patching up his wounds when his thumbs were broken and unable to stitch himself up. But Jean still wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be in Kevin's life. He wanted Kevin to see him as Jean Moreau, a hopeless boy in love with the only person that ever gave him care. Not Jean Moreau of Perfect Court, number 3 the country's greatest backliner because Kevin only saw him on the court after he left evermore. So he stubbornly clung onto Kevin as his past as his future, aka the Foxes, came to collect his due from Jean; essentially handing over the one thing that kept him going throughout the Nest.

And I find it cute that Matt and Dan didn't shoo Jean off. They let him stay with Kevin. Maybe because they could see the tragedy in his eyes or the way Kevin was calm and placcid beside him, which was weird because Kevin gets anxious literally around EVERY Raven.

#aftg #jean moreau #kevin day #kevjean #fuck gcses this is how i practice my writer's effect

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trippingontheescalator · 9 months ago

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Curious about the direction the HP fandom has gone

Okay, so as an old HP fan from way back when the books were first coming out, and then getting hit with the nostalgia and decided to return after years and years of not interacting with the fandom at all, the changes are truly mindboggling and I'd love to get to the bottom of some things.

Like, the disappearance of Blaise Zabini. Blaise was a fan favorite way back when we only knew his name but now I barely hear a whisper of his name. Now, the obvious answer is racism, which I think is the #1 reason why Blaise-pairings have dropped of significantly. Back then we all thought Blaise was a hot Italian girl, and then we found out he's a black man and suddenly people stop writing about him? Hm, yeah, seems the obvious answer (especially considering the popularity of other characters who are just a name on a page *cough*regulusblack*cough*).

Or the rise in Snape-hate. Like, Snape used to be the fan favorite. Everyone loved Snape. The meaner he was, the more we liked him. Being mean to children was a plus, not a negative lol. And this was back when we all thought he was a pureblood who came from a wealthy family like the Malfoys. Now by the time the 7th book came out I had pretty much moved on and so I didn't really see the fallout of readers discovering his actual background, so I don't know if his drop in popularity is classism and learning that he isn't a palette-swapped Lucius Malfoy or not, but honestly I would figure his impoverished background would be a plus in these times. Like Snape is obviously one of JKR's least favorite characters, and considering how she-who-must-not-be-named has destroyed her reputation with her increasing radicalization you'd figure the poor, abused, author-hating character would become more beloved instead of the rich, white, heteronormative bullies who barely even show up in the books. Like with our increasing knowledge of social injustice, I just don't understand why the fandom would want to latch onto the Marauders? And I just can't believe Snape's handful of snippets with Lily is the cause of his downfall (like what's there is barely enough to fill up a few pages, and there are certainly more toxic relationships in the series that are still beloved), or the fact that he was a Death Eater or that he inadvertently caused the deaths of the Potters (we already knew that in GoF and HPB respectively and he was still beloved, and this was when we assumed he didn't give a shit about the Potters or if they died when he went snitching). Draco is still popular. DRACO who doesn't give two shits about slinging around the word "mudblood," as opposed to Snape who actually changed for the better.

Am I just too old to understand? Is this like 90s fashion coming back in style (no, I won't do it again, I don't care if it's cringy I'm sticking with my millennial styles, I did the platforms and the slip dresses and the cargo pants in high school and I'm not putting myself through that again lol you gen z's can pry my comfortable mom jeans from my cold, dead fingers, I don't care if it makes me look old, that's the point, I AM old). Like, in addition to 90s fashion, has the 90s obsession with luxury athletic fashion like Lacoste come back in style? All those fashion ads of rich white people on yachts with popped collar polos? Are people starting to obsess over the Marauders because nouveau riche conspicuous consumption is coming back in style? It can't all just be young kids who have only read AtYD and have never actually opened one of the books, can it?

There also seems to be a trend of treating characters as if they're real people. I mean, we've always done it (Snape Wives, I'm looking at you), but now it almost feels as if the crimes characters commit are treated as if they're real crimes and that liking them is somehow a moral failing on the reader's fault. If you were to say "I don't like Snape, his douchy actions anger me, I'd rather skip all the parts he shows up in" I'd say, cool, I get that. That's normal. But "Snape is an abuser, a racist, and an incel and if you like him you're probably those things too" is fucking weird. Like, Harry and Hermione are not real children. Snape is not a real person. The things that happen in this book have as much influence on the real world as me imagining ninjas breaking into my workplace on a slow day. And that "media does not exist in a vacuum" pisses me off because it's blatantly misused. The pieces of media that have had serious consequences? Jaws, The Birth of a Nation. One resulted in the culling of sharks, the other helped restart the KKK. Do you know what those two pieces of media have in common? They're not about fucking wizards and magic schools. They instead paint a target on real groups. After twenty years nobody has ever tried to hurt a marginalized group of people because of a harry potter book (except for JKR herself).

Anyway, these are just some random thoughts, feel free to chime in with your own.

#pro snape #severus snape #pro severus snape #snapedom #mostly snape some blaise #would love to hear form some marauders fans but im not touching that tag with a ten foot pole #yikes

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adore-laur · 1 year ago

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SKIN

— a blurb from the dadrry universe 🤍

——

Harry's skin must be woven with threads of magic. There has to be an otherworldly magnetism entwined in his veins, bestowing captivating warmth on anyone who touches him. Or perhaps there's an underlying spell coursing through his bloodstream, effortlessly soothing deep-rooted aches and vociferating cries.

It's been said before, but it bears repeating: Harry is a natural when it comes to being a lover. He has been by your side through every trial and tribulation life has cruelly thrown at you. He has willingly taken your pain during grief-stricken times and selflessly shared the burden. You've navigated the rollercoaster years of dating, marriage, and parenthood with him, all the while watching him adapt to each role with unwavering patience and grace.

Witnessing him be a dad makes you firmly believe it's what he was made to do. It was written in the stars.

When you wake from a deep slumber—a long and uninterrupted one at that—the house smells like blueberries and homemade bread. Well, if four hours of sleep count as uninterrupted. You'll be the first to admit that you haven't missed the lack of sleep involved in caring for a newborn.

You slowly make your way to the kitchen, surprised by how quiet it is except for the sizzling sounds of breakfast being cooked. Your tired eyes regard Harry swaying by the stovetop, a spatula in his grasp, and his one-week-old baby girl cradled in his opposite arm. She's wide awake, her swaddled body cuddled perfectly in the crook of his elbow as she mesmerizingly stares at her dad skillfully take a loaf of bread out of the oven. He has on his favorite fleece robe with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair— that's getting quite long—is flatly pushed back due to him restlessly tossing and turning all night.

It's baffling how whenever Harry holds his daughter, she's completely content as long as her skin touches his. You don't quite understand it. You're well aware that skin-to-skin contact is essential, but it's wondrous how much she loves it with him already.

You stand still and watch him for a few more moments, thinking about how, nine months ago, you observed him from the same spot as he made pancakes with his eldest daughter. Back when the baby he's holding now was just a tiny bump he would fawn over, growing rounder each month and getting plenty of kisses each day.

Eventually, you refocus on the present and shuffle over to where your sleep-deprived husband is yawning and shutting the oven door with his hip. The both of you got a dreadfully short amount of sleep last night, but you think it isn't so bad when mornings look like they do with him.

"Hello," you say, making your presence known before appearing next to him.

Harry loosens a golden-brown blueberry crepe with the spatula and sets it on one of three plates. "Morning, sweetheart."

"When did she wake up?"

"'Bout an hour ago," he replies, his voice hoarse. "Just little whimpers, so I took her to the backyard for fresh air. She told me she wanted to make breakfast with me."

You amusedly tilt your head to the side. "Oh, she told you that? I didn't know you could translate her baby sounds."

"I can, actually. She also told me she wanted milk." He looks over at you and raises his eyebrows. "Pronto, preferably."

"Here, give me her. She's definitely hungry." You take her from him and kiss her soft, munchable cheeks. "Thank you for making food, by the way."

"That's my job," he says melodically as you walk over to the couch. You sit and slide the strap of your silk pajama top down, then remove the white swaddle from the baby's body. She instantly latches onto your nipple, causing you to wince as a dull ache initiates.

As you feed her and zone out, you hear Harry plate the food and open the fridge several times before you sense him coming up behind you. He leans his torso over the back of the couch and rests his chin on your head. Breastfeeding has never been uncomfortable around him since you know he's appreciative of what a woman's body can supply and how draining it is to be the supplier. Often, like right now, he will silently observe his daughter fall into a state of tranquility as she suckles. It's beautiful to nurture another human using your body, and even though it's terribly time-consuming, the special bond formed during it is always worth it.

"I'm going to get dressed," Harry says after a while, squeezing your arm.

You turn your head and pucker your lips for the first kiss of the day. He grants you several soft pecks that taste like blueberries, each with a satisfied hum, before leaving a long, dramatic kiss on his daughter's head.

A few minutes later, he comes back just as you finish breastfeeding. He's wearing a patterned jacquard-knit sweater and loose denim jeans with ripped holes near his knees. He stands before you and takes his baby girl from your arms, kissing and blowing raspberries on her full belly until she's screeching happily.

"Who's ready for tummy time, hmm? Is it you?" She coos with a toothless smile, and Harry pretends to eat her cheeks. "I think it's you."

He gently sets her on the blanket on the living room floor, then lies on his stomach next to her. You grab your phone from the coffee table and snap a quick picture of the sweet memory.

After five minutes of encouragement and tracing every feature of her face, Harry picks her up and burps her. Meanwhile, you wander into the kitchen, grab the plates, and then slide the patio door open with your shoulder. You head out to the backyard, with Harry following closely behind. You're not too worried about your other daughter since she'll definitely be cranky if you wake her up this early.

As you set the plates down and sit in the wicker lounge chair, Harry passes the baby over and settles beside you, chewing and swallowing a bite of bread. He says, "I was thinking of going to the beach later and swimming with the girls. The water is pretty calm today."

You nod and pick at your crêpe. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll probably take a nap or something."

"You don't want to come with us?" he asks, scrunching his eyebrows. It's gorgeous out."

"I don't really feel like swimming. I'm not feeling my best."

He leans closer to you and places his palm on your forehead. "What do you mean, love? You feelin' okay?"

"I'm just tired," you lie partially. "Don't worry about me."

"Hey, look at me." He takes your hand in his. "I'm going to worry about you. You just gave birth a week ago. Gotta tell me how you're feeling mentally and physically. Otherwise, I don't know how to help you."

"I know, but I swear I'm—" A fussy cry cuts you off, and you sigh as you start rocking the baby. Harry soothingly massages the back of your neck, leaving a comforting kiss behind your ear.

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" he murmurs.

You just weakly smile and hope he'll forget about it.

——

The sun has just begun to set, and the evening sky is a bright, beautiful orange that makes the ocean glimmer. All of you are on the beach to spend time together before an early bedtime. Harry had made dinner and is now shaking out a blanket so the both of you can sit on the sand. Your eldest daughter is distracted with her beach toys, talking to herself as she toddles along the shoreline in her swimsuit and floaties.

There's no time for peaceful watching, however, because once you plop down on the blanket with the baby snuggled to your chest, Harry sits right by you and clasps his hands over his bent knee like he's about to give a lecture. He jerks his chin and says, "You know what I'm going to say."

It's impossible not to roll your eyes. "Do I have to?" you mutter with a sheepish grin.

"Yes. You're legally required to talk to your husband and baby daddy."

You just groan and prepare yourself to vent about all the postpartum feelings that have been swirling in your pessimistic brain over the past seven days.

"I'm scared of losing myself," you say, exhaling heavily. "I remember the first time I became a mom and how I didn't even recognize myself some days. It took so much energy out of me, you know? With breastfeeding, being up all night, and trying to get my body back to normal, I guess I just don't want to fall into that dark mindset again."

Harry nods understandingly. "Do you recognize yourself right now?"

"A lot more than last time," you reply quietly. "I mean, we're both more experienced with how to handle a newborn. That definitely helps."

He swallows, and his serious expression reveals that he sees right through you. "Can I know the real reason why you didn't want to go swimming earlier?" he asks with a gentleness that could break you if you dwell on it for long enough.

You sometimes wonder if your skin is made of glass or if he knows you well enough to notice all the cracks.

"If I talk about it, I'll start crying."

He tuts and nudges your foot with his. "And what's wrong with crying?"

Shrugging, you defeatedly mumble, "It makes me feel like a little kid."

"You're my wife, not some stranger to me," he stresses with a soft laugh. "I hate that you think crying in front of me will put me off. Please be vulnerable with me. I don't want you to keep your feelings bottled up."

Your lips wobble, and a teardrop escapes as you look downward. "I don't feel good when I look at my body. I don't think I could put on a swimsuit and have you see me." Harry scoots closer and wipes your tears away, a sympathetic frown on his lips. "And I spent so long trying to accept it last time I gave birth," you add, "and now having to bounce back again seems exhausting."

"I don't expect you to bounce back," Harry says gently. "I don't expect anything of you that involves changing your body. It's your body. Do whatever you need to make you feel good, and do it at your own pace, all right?"

Your heart lovingly falters at his statement. "Once we can finally have sex in five weeks, it's going to be terrible. I'll probably cry."

He laughs, and you let one out too. "Is that really what you're worried about?"

"No." He gives you an unamused look with a hint of a smirk. "Okay, maybe. I just don't want you to look at me. I could blindfold you or something."

"Can you look at me right now for a second?" Harry asks earnestly. You adjust the baby in your arms and meet his eyes, which sparkle in the sunlight. I look at you and see a goddess," he says, holding your free hand. "A mother to two beautiful girls who make me smile every single day. You're my safety blanket. The body you think I don't want to see is the one that grew life. That is so precious to me."

He begins tracing his fingertips across the light striations on your thigh as he continues, "The stretch marks on your skin are there because you grew two humans, which to me is the most powerful goddamn thing I could ever watch you do. And you've done it so effortlessly that I can't help but fall in love with you more and more each day."

In that moment, you wonder why you were ever doubtful in the first place and how the man sitting next to you can always easily drag you out of any momentary insecurity.

Harry suddenly stands and carefully pulls you up with him. He then kneels on the blanket and spreads his arms out. "Look at you," he says over the crashing waves. "You're literally glowing in front of me, holding our baby girl that you brought into this world all by yourself, and making my heart pound just as hard as the first day I met you."

"Stop, Harry," you tell him, heat expanding across your face.

"No, because look at you!" He exhales sharply and lowers his arms. "I worship you. Everything you do or say, every smile and laugh, every time you look at me... I'm hooked for eternity."

You kneel in front of him with tears threatening to spill over. He cradles your cheeks and kisses you with an intensity similar to the evening waves pelting the shore. Is there a way to thank the ocean for bringing him to you?

As the sun says its routine farewell, you bask in Harry's glow that cascades from the solicitous words he speaks and the tender touches he gives. Skin that's unquestionably loved by him, and skin that you will love at your own pace.

——

#harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #dad!harry #dadrry #dilfrry #harry styles #adore-laur #skin

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takaraphoenix · 1 month ago

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Four months into my Teen Wolf renaissance and I am kind of fascinated by the way my interaction with it changed and shaped with this current rewatch of the show, the shift in priorities.

I used to monoship in this fandom. There was Sterek and nothing else.

Now I'm juggling multiple ships and my first ever poly-ships for this fandom. Which is a delight, because I'm a polyamorous person first and a writer second so to actually have poly-ships in this fandom sparks a whole lot of joy for me. So does generally having multiple ships, because I've always been a multishipper.

It's interesting though, that with these multiple ships, it has become very clear to me what's my actual most important dynamic for this fandom. Because it doesn't matter what the Stiles ship is, it doesn't even matter who the pack Alpha is and what pack we're talking about, I need Boyd and Erica to be alive and to be in Stiles' pack. These three mean the fucking world to me, they're the core. The pack around them may change, the romantic ship for Stiles may change, but those two are alive and together and beautiful and Stiles' pack.

Other things, I am much more flexible on. There are characters I don't particularly care whether they're portrayed as good friends or bad friends, but if a fic goes outta their way to keep Boyd and Erica alive just to have them be bad to Stiles, I am out of that story faster than you can look.

Jackson is slightly more negotiable. He's still very important to me and I prefer him to be in the pack, but there is also something appealing to him being in London and him and Stiles building a long-distance friendship after the Nogitsune, that phone calls and texts might make it easier for Stiles to talk about what happened, that the Nogitsune trauma and the kanima trauma bonds them. I prefer them to be pack, but they don't have to be, as long as they are still friends. If I have to see Jackson post season 2 sticking around and being pack, just to then be a bully to Stiles, I am also out.

Like. I do fully understand that all three have, you know, more or less antagonistic pasts toward Stiles. I also understand fics that just turn everyone aside from [romantic partner] against Stiles for max angst. It's just that these three? These three hurt me to read as bad friends.

The more I write and read for the fandom, the more important does Alpha Peter become to me too. Even outside of romantic Steter, it just... feels wrong to me when he's a beta even more wrong when he's Scott's beta ngl. There is so much healing, redemption and hope in the idea of Peter as an Alpha who gets to rebuild the Hale Pack and keep his family's legacy alive.

Used to be Derek for me, but the more I think about it, the... unhappier he seems as an Alpha in canon and the fonder I grow of the idea of him getting to be a Right Hand. Of him getting a second chance with a Hale Pack but without the burden of having to try and be the Alpha. (I do still love writing and reading Alpha Derek though, especially when it's Sterek. But if I had to pick a favorite Hale Pack dynamic, it'd have to be Alpha Peter and Right Hand Derek.)

Now, out of this list, Peter was the only real surprise. Even back in 2014, when I first got into this fandom, I preferred my Berica alive and as friends with Stiles and I liked my Stackson brOTP.

But genuinely the biggest surprise to me is how much I latched onto Spark Stiles, because this was something I used to actively avoid. I used to think of that as nonsense. I mean, come on, that was one episode and canon moved on from that, how did you grow that attached to it.

Somehow, this rewatch, I just feel very indignant about the fact that they really gave Stiles magic for one episode and then did jackshit with it. What the hell. After ten years, I finally understand why the fandom couldn't let go of that.

Comfortingly enough did my favorite thing not change in the past ten years though. Give me Pack Mom Stiles or give me death. That's still the best damn thing this fandom ever did, in my opinion, and whatever the ship or the pack or who the Alpha is, Stiles is Pack Mom.

But it is interesting to see how my own interaction with the story and the characters has changed over the past decade and on this third to fifth watch (depending on what season we're talking about. I've seen the first two seasons more often than the rest).

#I dunno what this is #Fandom Introspect #or sth #Teen Wolf #About Me

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months ago

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GFL girls watching a horror movie with their S/O?

yeah I rewatched emesis blue and I need to see other people get scared

(GFL) Kalina, Helianthus, G36, AK-15, RPK-16, Architect, Scarecrow, M16A1, G11, and HK416 watching a horror movie with their S/O

I just finished watching Stasis: Bone Totem for the past 7 hours personally. I'm sad now.

Kalina happily snuggles next to S/O, eating popcorn as S/O held onto her for dear life.

She wasn't that troubled by the horror movie they put on.

Mostly because it gave her some fantastic ideas for Halloween this year!

(S/O) "K-Kalina, why are you smiling?!"

(Kalina) "Hm...I think I can recreate that with some of the T-Dolls, the way we can utilize our stealth tech can make one helluva haunted mansion!"

(S/O) "You're going to monetize ghosts?!"

(Kalina) "Heck yeah, I am!"

She does jump at a few of the scares but laughs them off.

Helian can't help but wonder if this is what the younger couples did nowadays. Or rather, if they still did this kind of thing.

She sat with S/O in the darkness, huddled up next to them on the couch as the TV provided their entertainment for the night.

(Helianthus) "I doubt that this movie will be that scary."

It in fact, was that scary.

Some of the scares get Helian to scream, latching onto S/O.

Which she immediately tries to clear her throat and preserve some dignity.'

(Helianthus) "...Tell anyone about this, and you're a dead man/woman."

G36 has to put on her glasses in order to watch the film properly.

She couldn't help but fidget a little, she wasn't used to just...sitting down and doing nothing.

But admittedly, it was a nice change of pace.

G36 flinches at some of the scares, but she can't help but laugh at least a little, making sure S/O was comfortable.

Or more accurately, not scared out their mind.

(G36) "You are shaking a lot. Do you require warmer blankets?"

(S/O) "N-NO! Just...s-stay here, don't leave me alone!"

(G36) "Necromorphs are not real-"

(S/O) "C-Can we make sure the vents are locked tight tonight?"

G36 just smiles at that.

15 doesn't really understand why S/O is watching horror movies if they were scared of it.

If this was just some elaborate ruse just for 15 to hold them tightly, they could've just asked her directly.

Regardless, she obliges them because it made them happy.

She doesn't react in the slightest to any of the scares, finding the whole concepts of ghosts and spirits illogical.

(AK-15) "You know they don't exist S/O. Why are you so afraid?"

(S/O) "I-I don't know! It just freaks me out, alright?!"

She notices their heartbeat calms down at least a little if her arms are wrapped around them, which she comfortably holds them in her grasp the duration of the movie and night.

At least they trusted her strength so much, they believed she could punch a demon back to hell.

That makes her pride go up an substantial amount, though she doesn't vocalize it.

Otherwise, she doesn't flinch from a single thing in the movie, even the more grotesque parts.

16 is highly amused the entire time, watching as S/O is latching onto her during the movie.

She also can't help but wonder why humans would make something so strange.

Did they want to be scared? Was the human race nothing but masochists?

(RPK-16) "Why exactly did we choose this type of movie tonight, S/O? You seem to be trembling."

(S/O) "Well, I thought it'd be fun..."

(RPK-16) "Hm, well it gives me a few ideas on how to get some interesting reactions out of you at least."

For the remainder of the night, she has a smug grin on her face as S/O squirms and yelps from the scares.

She began to ponder on what exactly S/O was afraid of. The girl with long hair, the loud noises? This was going to be a fun time experimenting!

She isn't affected by the movie at all, save for getting ideas to scare S/O.

Architect is absolutely terrified with S/O, making her almost drop the bucket of popcorn and candy she has.

(Architect) "AGH! DID YOU SEE THAT?!"

(S/O) "W-WHAT?! NO, WHAT?!"

Like S/O, she gets way too immersed in the film and the both of them are shaking in fear.

When they go to bed, Architect has her weapon directly next to the bedside, with S/O making no complaints.

(Architect) "I-If any demon bastard wants to go through that door, they'll be blown the hell up!"

(S/O) "...Wait, this is my room. Why did you have that in here to begin with-"

(Architect) "For situations like these! I don't wanna be killed by some ghost!"

Scarecrow finds this whole ordeal illogical. She doesn't get scared by anything, let alone by human entertainment.

The reason why S/O called her to watch these escaped her, but it's not like she had anything better to do.

She blankly stares at the screen as she feels S/O hug her tightly, her irises adjusting to the brightness of the screen.

Her voice remains monotone the entire time, slightly muffled by her mask.

(Scarecrow) "...Do I scare you as much as the scarecrow in this film, S/O?"

(S/O) "Um...Not really, you're a lot cuter.-"

Her eyes glanced over to S/O, noticing that they weren't teasing, mostly due to being afraid.

She finds amusement in their terror, but doesn't make a comment on their compliment.

(Scarecrow) "That is obvious."

(S/O) "UWAGH!?"

Scarecrow is held even tighter, making her sigh. Why are humans like this?

M16 just smirks when S/O asks her to watch a horror movie with them.

(M16A1) "Don't worry, I'm so bad that not even any monster will come near me!"

She puffs her chest out in pride when S/O finds comfort in her arms.

(M16A1) "Psh, I could beat the hell out of that blue demon."

(S/O) "B-But that's a supernatural ghost! You can't shoot ghosts!"

(M16A1) "I can sure try!"

She has the biggest smile on her face, just getting to enjoy this moment with S/O.

She's not really affected by the scares in the movie, just finding it funny more than anything.

G11 would be fast asleep if S/O didn't wake her up from their screaming.

The entire time, she is held like a teddy bear in S/O's arms, making her slightly annoyed.

(G11) "Loud..."

(S/O) "How can you sleep through that screaming and bloodshed?!"

(G11) "...It's not real."

(S/O) "B-BUT IT LOOKS SO REAL!"

(G11) "...Hm...I'm going back to sleep..."

She drools on their arms while S/O is never ever letting go of G11, for less romantic reasons this time around.

Not that she minded entirely, since it was comfortable.

Until S/O screamed and shook her awake, making her eyes groggily open before shutting again.

HK416 obliges S/O in watching horror movies.

After all, nothing like having the best T-Doll protect them, even from something as mundane as a film.

She only gets scared, because S/O screamed directly next to her.

(HK416) "GAH! God damn-why are you so loud?!"

(S/O) "S-Sorry, it just scared me!"

She rolls her eyes when she feels S/O get closer to her. A slight blush came to her cheeks as she muttered something under her breath.

(HK416) "If you were going to piss yourself, why are we doing this?"

(S/O) "I...I thought I could look braver if I could watch this with you here..."

(HK416) "Heh, some job you're doing."

She's going to lord it over her S/O that she wasn't scared once from the movie.

Until the final jumpscare made her recoil into S/O's arms, turning the tables.

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glisten-inthedark · 1 month ago

Note

Do you think the Duffers might decide not to do anything with Byler? Or have a D*stiel confession and Will dies?

Hi! How are you doing?

Ok, to answer your first question: Will the Duffers decide no to do anything with Byler?

Ok, if we want to talk about this, we have to go through it from their perspective, so shall we?

They create a hit show, but from the get-go, there's a clear distinction between the friends within said show. It's not noticeable enough that would make people side-eye it, but it's there just enough for you to go back to later on. From the beginning, one of these characters already presents signs of queer-coding.

This progresses to season 2 and evolves to a place where you can see one of these boys latching onto the other, holding onto him and protecting him from everything. Again, it's nothing too big or too noticeable, but it's there.

And then suddenly, one of these boys becomes a completely different person, someone desperate to grow up and evolve, to let go of childish things - that for some reason involve letting go of his friends -, and then this boy says the words "it's not my fault you don't like girls" and it doesn't get addressed.

But it doesn't stop there. They decide to create a plotline of character B being deeply in love with character A. They made that choice, and it wasn't a choice of convenience, there's absolutely nothing convenient about the choice they made.

And why do I say there's nothing convenient?

Because even if they don't want Mil*ven to end up together, they still have to sacrifice money and time for the whole California arc to exist.

If they want Mil*ven as an endgame, they decided to prioritize Will's feelings over something arguably more important in their book.

If they don't Mi*ven as an endgame but don't want Byler either, then what is even the point of Mike visiting California in the first place? They could've gotten Will back in Hawkins somehow, they didn't have to go through all of this California plot nor did they have to take both boys from the supernatural plot (which from what I gathered, made some people upset).

And I raise you one: What was even the point of Will falling in love with Mike in the first place? The story wouldn't change one bit if they just went for: Will is gay and it's coming to terms with it. That's a fine story and it's still as important especially considering the time where it takes place. There was no need, absolutely no need, for Will to be in love with Mike.

But then they decide to the hell with it. Let's throw away not three years, but almost nine, of a story we've been building for just as long. Nothing means anything! Will's feelings for Mike were absolutely pointless, the van scene? Nah, overrated! The lingering looks, the lip glances, the fights, the pining, the hurt... They served no purpose.

They just go through years and years of this (long before people even started shipping Byler and so the argument of queerbaiting is kind of void) just so nothing comes out of it?

You see how that doesn't make much sense, right?

As for comparing ST to other fandoms, I understand the urge to do so. I understand most of us have gone through this before, however, it's simply a case of false equivalence. These creators aren't the same, and the stories also aren't the same.

Thanks for the ask and I hope you have a great day (:

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #byler analysis

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markpellegrinoimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Redemption or Damnation??

Request from Anon: Can you do a story of reader losing their virginity to Lucifer?

Y/n = your name

H/c = hair colour

E/c = eye colour

Fem!Reader x Nick!Lucifer

Tw: Smut, Rough!smut, Selective Mute Reader, loss of virginity

Summary: After their most recent hunt, the winchesters bring home a new face to the bunker, much to the surprise and interest, to its non-human inhabitants.

3rd p.o.v

Her gaze snapped between the two men who were protecting her. She'd lost count of the number of days she'd been held in this old barn, chained to a rotting post as she waited on her turn to be the beasts next meal. With each morning, she'd find its disgusting malformed features laid next her own and with each night she'd had to watch helplessly as it dragged in a new woman. Only for it to sniff at them and then cry out in a fit of rage as it began to rip them apart.

She didn't know why it'd kept her alive, what made her different from the rest. Was it because she couldn't scream? The stress of everything had her struggling to even make a peep, much less speak. On a good day, she was lucky if she could squeak out a hello to her land lady. But now here she was clutching to the back of a man who was easily 3x times her size.... As the second man set the decaying body of the beast who'd taken her, aflame.

Even as she watched its horribly scaled face crumble into ash and a relief she hadn't felt in weeks flooded through her, she couldn't bring herself to open her mouth and utter out the thanks these men deserved.

Every time, her lips would part, only for them to wobble and snap closed again. Even as she was slowly led out and they asked her question after question, she was unable to respond. Her own mind and body betrayed her like it always did. It took several minutes of them helping her get situated in the back of their car before she was able to get her shaking and numb hands to function properly and form the practiced signs she'd been taught at a young age.

The shorter of the two just looked at her like she'd grown a second head before turning to his friend with a look that Clearly said he thought she was a whacko. Sam, however, she's pretty sure that's his name, had a look of understanding before his features melted into the overly soft gleam of pity and support. It sent a small shiver down her spine, she hated pity.

His voice was slightly uncertain as he finally whispered out a small question, "Are you..mute?"

Y/n nodded her head with a small smile before she shuffled her hand in a so-so gesture. Her hands were slow as she form her signs.

-My name is Y/n, can you read sign?-

Sam's eyes scrunched up a bit before it smoothed out into a small smile.

"It's nice to meet you Y/n, though I think we both wish it wasn't under circumstances like this?" His lips pulled into a slightly weary grin that his eyes crinoline up in his attempt at humor.

Dean scoffed to his left, "Of course you know how to understand what..ever..it is that she's doing."

Sam rolled his eyes before turning his smile back onto you, "Y/n do you think you can tell me your address, or if you have any family we can take you to...?"

Sam watched her eyes dull slightly, and then she shook her head. She'd been gone so long that she doubted her apartment was still hers, and any family died when she was very young.

"Well, what about friends?"

Another shake of her head. Dean huffed, "let's just drop her off at the hospital Sam, the cops can deal with it after that..."

Dean was not prepared for the shaking hand that latched onto his sleeve and the watery wet eyes set on him. Her free hand was frantically signing out words over and over.

-please don't leave me, please, I don't want to be alone..-

She didn't want another one of those things to show up... they killed it... what if that made others like it angry..

Sam swallowed thickly, he could see the panic and slight fear in the girls eyes. It must have been horrible, stuck in a place like that, watching everything that thing did without even being able to scream or call for help.

Dean could see Sam's face fall, "No..we can't...sammy!"

"Just until she's healthy again, Dean, I mean..."

"What, are we just supposed to leave her at the bunker...with.. them!"

Sam scratched the back of his head, yet when he glanced back, meeting misty E/c eyes, his resolve crumbled, and Dean let out a huffy groan.

"We are so going to regret this.."

Y/n felt a little bad for causing any stress, but she didn't know what else to do. She had nothing anymore. At least with these two, she could try and repay them for saving her life. They mentioned a bunker... maybe she could keep it clean for them?

Y/n eyed the metal door with a growing interest. Sam had been telling her about their profession during the week it took them to get here. Kansas sure was a bit a ways away from her original home. But the scenery on the way had been beautiful.

If she hadn't been captured by one, Y/n never would have even considered the existence of monsters. But now, with undeniable proof all she could do was take that info with stride and bury the anxiety that came with it, deep down, very deep down.

When Dean had pulled the sleek black car into what she could only describe as a fan boy batcave, she'd had to do a double take. If she was capable, she'd have let out a small hum of awe. There were several cars and a few bikes in the large open garage, and there was a metal door to what she assumed led to the place they called the bunker.

Sam said it was their home base, a place for them to go after their hunts. She could understand that. Her old home had felt like the only place she could relax and be herself, it was the only time she could ever hear her own voice without any stuttering that would come with it when talking to very few she trusted.

She stood next to Sam as he pulled a duffle bag out of the trunk of the car. Her fingers fiddled with the buttons of the shirt he'd lent her. It was huge in her. She was almost certain that he'd been a moose or a giraffe in a previous life.

Gently she tugged on his sleeve.

-Thank you for taking me with you, I know I caused you a problem with your brother..-

"Don't worry about it Y/n, you didn't have anywhere else to go, and you felt unsafe. I understand. It will take Dean a bit to warm up to you, but I'm sure you'll win him over with your treats."

A small blush bloomed across her cheeks. She'd made the off mention to Sam of having been working at a pastry shop before her kidnapping. The pay wasn't great, but she'd enjoyed it, and well Sam had been teasing her since.

"I do have to warn you though, that we aren't the only ones that live here... I suggest just staying out of their way for now... some of them are.. grouchy."

Y/ns head tilted to the side. The way he'd said that had been hesitant. Like he'd wanted to describe them in a different way. Her brows furrowed, and she ran a hand briefly through h/c locks.

-OK, is there anything I can do to repay you guys?-

Sam waved her off, "You don't have too!"

-I want to!- She shot him a large pout in an attempt at emphasis.

All she got in return was a small chuckle as he began to lead her into the main areas of the bunker. He was pointing out rooms to her as the past them, a gym, a firing range, storage, bathrooms.. it went on until they stepped into a large kitchen that her eyes lighting up In excitement.

Y/n slightly danced in place, a small whine getting caught in the back of her throat. Sam had gotten used to the small huffs and groans she would let out. He'd never actually met someone with selective mutism before. Her kidnapping probably didn't help at all with her disorder.

As he lead her out of the kitchen Sam felt a but of apprehension coil in his gut. He could hear the voices of the angels who lived in the bunker with them, getting closer as he led her to the main area. Stepping out into the room with two tables surrounded by a group of celestial beings made Sam's steps slightly falter. Enough for Y/n to run face first into his back with a small oof as the air got knocked from her lungs.

Y/n huffed, her lips parted but all she could get out was a low groan as she smacked a petulant hand into his shoulder...(she couldn't reach the back of his head)..

"Ah, sorry, Y/n. I lost focus.." His voice seemed to catch the attention of the group. And soon Y/n found herself slightly wilting under the combined stares of at least half a dozen men... really intimidating men.

E/c eyes snapped down to look at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in existence. A jovial voice spoke up with a slight mocking tease.

"Heya Sammy! Did ya bring yourself home a new girlfriend? A pretty one at that."

Sam choked on air while Y/ns head snapped up with a horrified grimace on her features. She shook her hands in the air, her head shaking out a violent no. Then she turned to look at Sam he hands flying through her signs as he tried to keep up with what she was saying.

-NO! That's not-.. I'm sorry Sam!-

Soon Sam was waving off her own attempts at apologizing.

"No, no, you're OK Y/n. Don't listen to Gabriel, he's just being a dick." He ignored the offened shout from said man.

One of the other men was chuckling, "Seems like she really doesn't like the idea of being with you, Sammy!" The blonds eyes glinted mischievously, "Why don't you come over here and introduce yourself, darling? I'm Balthazar!"

Y/n shot the man, Balthazar, and unimpressed look. And just shook her head no. Finally, she took in the others. One of them was looking at her like a lost, confused puppy his trench coat was slightly bunched on his shoulders as he tilted his head at her.

Sam began to tug her closer to these new people, and she could feel her anxiety rear its ugly head inside her. Her motioned towards the trench coat man first, "Y/n, this is castiel. Cas meet Y/n, she's going to be staying here for a bit."

Y/n gave him a timid smile and a small shakey wave as she wavered under his intense stare.

"I..see. Dean was agreeable with this?"

Y/n drooped with a small pout. And Sam rubbed the back of his head with a small grin.

"He'll come around. She makes good cupcakes.." a small hand whacks his side followed by a huff.

Gabriel had perked up at the mention of cupcakes, "You bake?" His brows furrow though when all he gets is a small nod.

A loud scoff comes from Gabriel's right, a man with short black hair and cold blue eyes dug a piercing glare into her.

"You humans, always so rude and pathetic. If you're going to impose yourself on us, then you should at least speak and show some respect to yo -" Michael's words trailed off when the small sniffle filled the room. The eldest of the angels blinked in shock as small tears built up in the girls eyes, and she was suddenly pushing herself behind the Winchester. His shock only grew as he was leveled a harsh glare from the human moose.

"Michael, Y/n has mutism. She can't speak." Sam settled a hand on the girls shoulder, but she refused to poke her head back out.

Michael's brows furrowed. He was so used to the combative and annoying nature of the winchesters that watching the girl break down into tears from his words alone had been a surprise. He'd thought the girl to be a hunter friend of theirs.

Lucifer let out a low huff. He watched the weak human girl with a sneer on his lips. What the hell was she doing here if she couldn't even handle a few harsh words. He wasn't sat at the table with the rest of them, so he'd been leant back in one of the chairs out of the way.

From his spot, he had the perfect angle of the girls tear streaked face. Mutism.. just another flaw proving his father's failure. Why had the winchesters even brought this girl here. It was obvious she was no hunter.

He tried to ignore the rest of the conversation to go back to his book. But he found his eyes continuously slipping back up to take in the girls appearance. As humans go...he guessed she wasn't exactly bad looking. With way, her eyes sparkled while filled with tears.

Lucifer found himself grimacing at his own thoughts as he let out a furious grunt and stalked out of the room. He missed the way E/c eyes trailed after him with a soft curiosity.

Y/N P.O.V

My hands fiddled with the cupcake held gently in my grasp. I couldn't stop the fidgeting of my feet or quell the raging beat of my heart as I glanced up at the door with great hesitancy. It's been nearly 2 months since the winchesters accepted me into the bunker, and things had been going fine so far.

I'd taken up the cooking and organizing for them whenever they were here or off on hunts. Putting away research books back into their spots and making sure they had some travel snacks for on the road.

The angels... God, I'd been shocked when that'd been revealed to me...came and went. Though they were here most nights using the rooms they'd chosen as their place to perch. Balthazar was a constant flirt, Michael hadn't spoken to me as harshly as he had before, and Gabriel was all over me. Constantly snatching up things, I baked. Cas was kind but kept to himself unless it involved Dean.

The only one who didn't bother me was Lucifer. In fact, he always left the room as soon as I entered. I knew he wasn't afraid of me. He was the literal devil, and there was nothing to fear from an anxiety driven mess like myself. I was positive there was something deeply wrong with me, though.

I hated the thought of him disliking me. I knew all about the apocalypse and everything that went on. Sam had gone into great detail about the things the fallen angel had done. I appreciated the winchesters attempts at keeping me safe, but something about the blue-eyed devil just drew me in.

I let out a small sigh and gave a firm knock to the door. There was a shuffle from behind the door, followed by the thud of feet.

"If you winchesters need something...then don't." The door jerks open and the annoyed frown of the angel who'd been taking up all the space in her head came into view. "Oh...it's you.." lucifers eyes drilled through my own with an obvious confusion and a slight surprise.

I shuffled my feet again and then lightly thrust out my hands, presenting him with the red velvet cupcake. Its base was a deep blood red with the frosting being a dark purple. Lucifer stared down at the cupcake, unsure of what was happening.

My jaw trembled, as I parted my lips, "f-for...y-you" my voice was lower than a whisper and wrought with stutters. I barely even recognized it after going so long without speaking even in my own company.

The angels blue eyes had snapped up to mine in immediate shock, if it weren't for the obvious strain visible on my face and the dark red taking up my cheeks, I'm sure he would have believed it to be his imagination.

I was half expecting him to slam the door in my face, but I felt a certain relief when he reached out and plucked the treat off of my palm. He was eyeing me again with a certain interest that hadn't been there before.

"You went out of your way to make this for me, little human?...and what is it you want in return?"

My brow furrowed, and my head tilted, "n-nothing...Good night..." I winced at the crack in my voice and then scurried off down the hallway before he could respond.

Something was definitely wrong with me. I couldn't even bring myself to talk to the nice angel Cas or respond to Sam's puppy dog eyes. But for some reason, I'm able to talk to the human hating celestial being hell bent on human genocide? Being monste napped must have damaged me more than I thought?

3rd P.O.V

Lucifer watched the girl all but sprint away from his door with flaming red cheeks and wide eyes. Almost absent-mindedly, he pulled the cupcake up to his mouth and took a bite. He was expecting the usual disgusting taste of molecules, but was shocking when his tongue exploded in flavourful he'd never experienced before. The deep chocolate of the red velvet and the sweet bite of the frosting had him finishing it of with a few more bites.

Is this why Gabriel was constantly shoveling candy into his mouth?

He leaned against his door frame as he thought about the human girl. If he were being honest with himself, it was the first time she'd crossed his mind. In his attempt at pushing her from his thoughts, he was always keeping a distance from her.

But even then, it did nothing to wain his infuriating interest. She was just...so innocent. Compared to any other human he'd met. The little human could barely hold his gaze without fidgeting and looking down with a blush. She did know who he was... right?

A small smirk grew on his lips as he ran his forked tongue across the bottom one. Maybe she wasn't as innocent as he thought...

Why else would she present him with a gift? Wasn't that one of the things humans do for courting or showing interest? He couldn't blame her. His impeccable taste in vessels and his celestial status would be any normal humans undoing.

His mind went back to her voice. He wasn't aware she could speak, didn't the moose say she was mute? It was scratchy from disuse, and if she really did have troubles with it...why speak to him first..out of everyone.

"How..interesting.."

Y/n swallowed heavily and ignored the anxiety building in her gut. She was slipping books into their proper shelves in the library, and that usually wasn't a problem. Only usually, she didn't have glacial blue eyes digging into her back and watching her every move.

Lucifer was perched on one of the library chairs. He sat in it backward with his elbows resting on its back and his chin in his palm. It's almost like a hawk stalking it prey.

She'd be lying if she said she was scared. She wasn't. All her lizard brain could focus on was that he wasn't ignoring her. It was practically preening under the sudden attention. While the logical side of her brain was telling her this was bad.

Y/n frowned as she tried to reach up and slip a book into the top shelf. Damn giant, why couldn't Sam get a step stool for her and Dean to use? She swore the guy was putting stuff up on high shelves just to mess with her at this point. She stretched up the tips of her toes, but she still was able to reach the top shelf.

Her lungs constrict on themselves when a freezing cold chest pressed into her back, and chilled fingers slipped the book from her hold in order to push it into its rightful place. Her little gasp had brought a haughty smirk to the angels face as he slowly settled one of his hands on the swell of her hip, as if trying not to spook an animal.

The other stayed pressed against the library shelf, trapping her between the various books and the somehow hard yet soft planes of his body. She could feel the steel like muscle and the power in the places his arms brushed against her. Yet the stomach that began to push further into her was soft flesh stretched over hard muscle.

'Oh dear..' this was good at all. The natural cool sensation of his skin was seeping into her heated body, the duel feeling was casting a war unto her mind.

"It seemed like the little human needed a hand." The touch on her hip squeezed almost gently before she felt his thumb begin to rub teasing circles into the slip of barely revealed flesh. Lucifer let out a small tsk before sliding his hand forward to rest above her navel. He used this leverage to pull her back flush to his body. He could feel the fully body shiver that went down her spine, and the small gasp that slipped past her lips.

A small frown tugged at his mouth, that just won't do. He wanted to hear her voice again, something nobody here had heard but him. His hand slipped a little lower but didn't dare breach past the hem of her pants. He was many things, but consent would always be ingrained in his being.

Y/n was trying to stabilize her erratic breathing as she felt lucifers hand leave cold trails on her stomach. Meanwhile, other hand reached up to run a gentle finger along her jaw and then down her throat. The touch was feather light and teasing as she trembled in his hold.

"...L-Lucifer..." it was a small squeak in comparison to the baritone of his own voice that rumbled through her when the archangel let out a low groan. She was caught off guard by his body pressing her further into the bookshelf. Soft cool lips lightly touched this skin at the back of her neck before it was replaced by blunt teeth.

Lucifer left teasing nips and surprising gentle open mouthed kisses along her shoulder.

"Again...say it again, little thing."

Y/n gulped. She wasn't sure she could at this rate. Her chest felt like it was going to burst and her fingers were scratching uselessly at the spines of old books. She could feel lucifers hips practically digging into her from behind. Her mind was screaming at her to stop this, stop him, but the slick slowly growing between her thighs and her heart were begging her to give in.

She opened her mouth, planning to ask him to stop, but that not what came out. Instead to her slight mortification, a low moan of his name was breathed out instead. Her cheeks burned with slight humiliation at the raspy tone of her own voice. She'd never heard herself sound like that before. Not that she's ever been in a situation like this.

"Lucifer~.."

His groan was louder this as he moved his teeth up to the lobe of her ear, giving it a brief nip. Then he was gone. His hands were no longer traversing her body and his lips no longer searing invisible marks into her very soul.

Y/n whipped around only to have her back nearly slammed into the shelf as those hands began a more impatient exploration. She glanced up, meeting a pair of gleaming red eyes. Her breath hitched, and her lips parted in slight awe.

Lucifer took the opening to connect their lips in a clumsy and lustful kiss. Y/n let out a small whine as his tongue slithered into her mouth, it turned startled when two independent halves circled her own tongue and started mapping out her teeth and inner cheeks.

Lucifer was groaning into her mouth, as his hips rutted into her stomach. Nerves fizzled to life as she felt the hard length that pressed up into her. Was...that going to fit...?

Lucifer broke the kiss giving the human time to breath as he trailed his light bite down her neck. He latched his hands under her thighs and lifted her legs up to wrap around his hips. Her embarrassed and pleasure squeak echoed un his ears when he rolled his hips between the warm flesh of her thighs.

"That's a good girl, let me hear more of you. Be a good little pet."

Each squeeze of his hands on the backs of her thighs and the unhurried rolling of his hips earned him breathy little gasps, but he wanted more.

"I can make you feel good, can have you moaning and screaming out my name, all you have to do is say yes."

He felt her hands settled on hus shoulders and he pulled away from her neck when he didn't get any kind of response. Confusion coiled in his gut as she refused to even meet his gaze. Isn't this what she wanted?? Why else would she have brought him a gift and spoken to him..

Her whisper barely reached his ears, "I-Ive never.." her gaze shifted down to wear the obvious tent in his jeans was pressed firmly against her.

Lucifers eyes widened. Before his lids lowered into a satisfied smirk.

"A Virgin?" His groan bordered on a pleased moan as he pulled her away from the bookshelf.

A bout of vertigo hit her as the view of the library around them disappeared and was replaced by a shadowed room. Her back landed on the soft cushion of a bed with lucifer perched above her.

Y/n looked up at him wide-eyed, like a quivering bunny under the stare of a starving wolf. His grin was dark and lustful.

"I can't gift your body with pleasures it's never known unless you day yes."

She watched his split tongue travel across his lower lip as she swallowed. Her eyes were flicking in every direction as she tried to come up with some sort of excuse to turn him away. But even the part of her mind that had been screaming at her only a few mixture before had fallen silent.

"I-I..yes..."

That was all he needed in order to lunge into her space. His lips devoured hers in a hungry daze as his hands pulled her into place beneath hik like a limp rag doll.

That shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Her cheeks were burning now, as she felt her jeans slowly get pulled down the shape of her legs. She hadn't even realized that her feet no longer had any shoes until her pants had slipped off without restraint.

Lucifer looked down to take in the exposed flesh with a gleam in his eyes. He runs his chilled hands up the expanse of her thighs with an appreciative groan.

"You're so very tempting for a human. It's been a real chore keeping myself away from you, little girl."

Y/ns eyes widened at the admission, but she didn't get a chance to think about what that ment before a broad swipe of his tongue ran up the seam of her panty covered slit.

The squeal that built up in her chest earned her a chuckle. His tongue repeated the motion a few more times before it wasn't enough for him. The angel reached up, hooking his fingers in the soft, damp material before he pulled down her legs. He tossed them over his shoulder and then slipped his hands under her thighs. His grip was gentle but firm as her opened her up fully to his gaze.

Glancing up at her through his lashes he was met with an awed look. Her lips were open in a o as she gasped for breath. Tempting indeed.

Y/n couldn't describe the moment his mouth decended on her clit anything beyond devouring. His teeth dragged across sensitive flesh, his lips sucking harshly at her untouched button. His tongue would slip down to poke and tease at her damp entrance, swirling around the hole before running back up to latch onto her clit once more.

Her moans were music to his ears as she fell apart beneath him. He hasn't done this before, but the memories bouncing around in his vessels head were letting him know just what spots he needed to touch and leave quivering for more. He hasn't bothered with sexual interaction since the conception of his son, but there was something about this innocent little human that had him wanting to ruin her.

He wanted to see her eyes roll into the back of her head as she came apart on his cock. He felt his pants get tighter at the mental image of the girl. When he could feel her arousal beginning to drip down his chin and dampen his sheets he unlatched his lips from her overstimulated clit.

Very slowly, he ran his hands up her sides, leaving damp kisses up her stomach. With a snap of his fingers, her shirt and bra were gone, and he was left shirtless. Her small gasp brought a grin to his face.

"I'm going to take very good care of you, pet." Oh, he was going to ruin her. After this, there won't be a single human who would ever be able to compare.

Y/n slightly grimaced when his lips captured hers again. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it was a slightly salty and sweet taste. She got so distracted by the meeting of tongues, that she missed the clink of a belt and the rustle of fabric.

Y/n slightly jolted in his hold when the slick head of something cool to the touch gently brushed against her dripping entrance.

"Luci-"

"Shh.. I've got you." Lucifer surprised himself when her gently rubbed soothing circles into her hip as he slowly pressed his hip forward. He watched the way her face scrunched up at the intrusion, the uncomfortable stretched of her warm walls almost made him want to push the rest of the way in.

It felt like she was ducking him deeper, her body wanting more while she let out small whimpers.

"That's it, such a good girl. Almost there."

She let out a smell yelp when he shifted his hips in a sharp roll. Forcing his hips flat against her own as his cock Settles against the back of her dripping cavern.

Lucifers groan was long and drawn out. The hand not on her hip was digging tears into the sheets below them, and his jaw was clenched tight as he fought to keep himself still and wait for her to adjust. A low grunt left his lips when her legs circled his hips and her arms wound around his neck and shoulders.

"Y-..ou..can move.." he didn't even let her finish before he'd pulled his length free from her heat just to drill it back in with a harsh roll of his hips and a loud smack of flesh.

Y/ns moan was louder than any of the rest she'd huffed out that night, and lucifer only responded in kind. The pace he picked up was a concise rolling of his hips, his cock carving her open with each hip smacking thrust. Lucifer could feel her chest pressed up against his own as her caged her into the mattress.

Her symphony of noises were only driving him along further, she was usually so quiet and timid. Knowing that he could pull these sounds from her had his ego twisting in self pride. His brothers wouldn't be able to do this for her, he won't let them. She...was...HIS..

His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her flush to his body, as if he was trying to fuse the two of them together. The grind of his hips rubbed down into her clit with every pass and soon she was a whimpering mess.

"Lucifer! Please!" Her hands tangled in his hair as his lips attacked her neck.

"Say it again! Beg for it pet, I want to hear your desires."

There was no stutter to her words this time as her moaning pleas slipped free.

"Please, I'm almost there, you feel so good lucifer!"

"That's my good girl." He could feel her velvet walls clench down on him with the praise, he didn't mock her for it, but his lips pulled into a sinful grin. "Be a good pet for me Y/n. Let go, I want to feel you squeeze down on me as I fill you up. No one will ever be good enough for you but me."

Y/n whimpered as she felt that knot cinch8ng tighter in her gut, then his cock rammed into a spot that she didn't even knew had, and it sent her hurtling over the edge with a wrecked scream of his name. A deep moan rumbled into her neck as she felt a wet warmth begin to fill up her sensitive walls.

Her small whimper was devoured by his cold lips.

"Such a sweet little thing. And your all mine... Your voice, Your purity," his hips rutted his softening member deeper into her, "Your body, soul...and soon Your heart."

She was breathing heavily into his shoulder barely registering the words being mumbled into her hair.

"I will have it all."

%@^@&

OK, so I know it's been forever since I've written on here!! I am sooooo sorry. But hopefully, this really long fiction that was honestly supposed to be like a fourth this length makes up for it!

Now there were some things here that weren't requested, but I had some thoughts that the anon gave me ideas for with their request!

#mark pellegrino #lucifer #supernatural #spn #spn lucifer #luciferxreader #before you say anything #i suffered from selective mutism as a child and eventually grew out of it #its different for everyone who experiences it #lucifer x reader

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