#a little old lady in a four year old

[dorminchu]

For the fun asks, number 1!

"What are three things you’d say shaped you into who you are?"

Reading voraciously as a kid (still do!), watching America's Most Wanted with my mom, and watching Princess Mononoke for the first time during sixth grade (it was for anime club).

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever

[randomfanfics02]

Five times I whispered 'I love you.' Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Summary; Being Daphne's best friend had its perks, growing up alongside the Bridgerton family, going to the balls with them, and falling in love with her older brother.

Warning; shit tone of fluff, little smut, angst. Family death; readers mother passed away and Father is ill with similar traits as the King. Readers last name is Taylor.

Distractions.

"Y/n,"

You pause, looking through the mirror at Daphne, your fingers run through your curls, a simple lilac dress hugging your frame beautifully.

"Dear, why are you running?" You laugh, raising a questioning brow at the oldest Bridgerton daughter.

"I need your help, the Duke is on his way and I need a moment alone with him-"

"Out of wedlock," You turn around to face Daphne, with a gasp, you place a hand on your chest with a teasing smirk, "How scandalous."

Daphne whacks your shoulder, passing you to take a lipstick from her vanity, "No, I need you to go downstairs and distract Anthony for me, mother has taken the others to the market and you are my only help."

"It will cost you three new books-"

"Of course," Daphne beams, pressing a kiss on your cheek, "Thank you."

You hum in reply, the two of you quickly scurrying to window as the carriage arrives at the front of the house. You both share a look before the two of rush out her room and down the stairs, hands held together as you try not too trip over your dresses.

"Go quickly, I'll distract him," You gently push Daphne towards the door before rushing towards Anthony's office.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your dress and gently knock on his door. Hearing a faint, 'come in', you gently open the door, popping your head around the corner as he looks up from his desk.

"Lord Bridgerton," You greet with a smile, "I was wondering-"

"What are you up too?" Anthony frowns, placing down his work, "You have that look on your face-"

"I have no look upon my face-"

"You certainty do-"

"My face holds nothing but beauty,"

Anthony laughs, standing up as you smile teasingly at him, "You hold a lot of beauty, Lady Taylor."

You feel your cheeks blush as he gets himself a drink, he leans against his desk as he watches you. You hold his eyes for a moment before clearing your throat, "I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me in the gardens, Daphne is busy-"

"Of course," Anthony replies, taking his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Are you not busy?"

"Not for you," Anthony offers you his arm with a smile, "And I can't have my sisters dear friend wondering around alone."

You smile, taking his arm as the two of you head towards the gardens, you look over your shoulder catching Daphne followed by the Duke who gives you a cheeky wink to which you roll your eyes at playfully.

Anthony holds the door for you, and you head out into the gardens. Beautiful lines of flowers lead down the garden path towards the pond, where a tall white fountain sits in the middle of it.

"Its beautiful out here," You say, letting your fingertips run over tall pink flowers, "You should host a picnic."

Anthony hums in agreement, "And whom should attend?"

"Me," You raise a brow at him, making him tilt his head down towards yours with a smile on his own.

"You practically live here," He jokes, "But you are more than welcome."

Your hand falls from Anthony's arm as Hyacinth and Gregory come bounding towards the two of you, their nanny running close behind with bright red cheeks. You catch Hyacinth in your arms, placing the ten year old on you hip as she hugs you.

"Y/n," She beams, "Have you seen our new flowers, mother had them placed by the entrance, they are tall and purple and-"

"They are beautiful," You press a kiss on her cheek, Anthony watches with small smile, holding Gregory's hand in his own as the four of you continue your walk, "What are you two playing?"

"We were just running around," Gregory answers, gently swinging his and Anthony's hands.

"Sounds exhausting," You roll your eyes playfully as Hyacinth giggles at you.

"Anthony?" Gregory pauses, pointing over into the distance, "What is that?"

Your eyes go wide as Anthony looks over at you, then towards the carriage at the front of the house. Anthony races towards the entrance as you place down Hyacinth, taking hers and Gregory's hand as you follow behind him.

Reaching the entrance, the carriage is long gone, leaving Daphne stood at the doors with a small smile. Anthony skids to a stop, looking up at his sister with a questioning look. You stop beside Daphne, holding a cheeky smile as he glares at you, now knowing your true intentions for wanting to go for a walk.

"I best excuse myself," You press a kiss on the two youngest's head before pressing one on Daphne's kiss, who whispers a thank you. Making your way down the steps, you lean up to press a kiss on his cheek, "Have a lovely evening, Ant."

Anthony watches you walk away, fingertips brushing over his cheek as Daphne laughs, he glares up at her, "You are unable to question my love life if you are unable to sort out yours, brother."

Anthony watches as his sister ushers his little brother and sister inside the house before looking over his shoulder in the distance you had wondered off too.

2. Always.

"Lady Taylor,"

You jump in surprise as The Duke bursts into the room, eyes wide, breathing heavily, cloths in disarray. It was late a night, your home library only lit up by a few candles. You place down your book, heart pounding in your chest as catch onto the worry in his eyes.

"Daphne has gone into labour, Y/n," He hurries, offering you his hand as you rush with him through your house.

"What is happening?" Your father questions, stepping outside of his office.

"It's Daphne papa," You quickly explain, slipping on your shoes, "She has gone into labour."

"Wish her my best," You father smiles, looking over your shoulder at the Duke who takes your hand again gently pulling you along, "And you too son, you'll be a fine father."

The Duke smile quickly, closing the doors behind you before climbing into the carriage, "Are you alright?"

Simon nods, knee bobbing up and down, his face written with anxiety, "I am worried."

"Daphne is a strong woman, I have grown up alongside her and she will be a wonderful mother," You reassure him before teasingly adding, "So will you."

Simon laughs, "Thank you, Y/n. She asked for you, she needs you beside her."

"Always."

"As did the Viscount," Simon says, you open your mouth to reply but he beats you too it, "He trusts you, I have never seen Anthony so infatuated."

The rest of the carriage ride is sat in silence. Your heart pounding in your chest as you arrive, Simon rushes out before you, you quickly following as you rush towards Daphne's room. Reaching the hallway towards her room, The Duke runs past the siblings who sit scattered outside the in the hallway. Anthony pushes off the wall he was leaning on, quickly taking your hands as Daphne's scream echoes down the hall as Simon walks back into her room.

Your eyes stay onto his, squeezing his hand, "I have too-"

"I know," Anthony nods, pressing a gently kiss on your hands, "Be with her."

You walk past the siblings, pressing a quick kiss on Hyacinth's head as you pass. Anthony watches as you close the bedroom door behind you, before sighing, slumping back down beside Benedict.

"Are you ever going to come to your senses?"

Anthony frowns, looking at his brother, "Pardon?"

"Y/n, she has grown with us," Benedict leans his head back against the wall, "You don't look at her like how Colin and I do, you look at her as if she holds your world."

Anthony shakes his head, "I do not wish to burden Y/n with our family-"

"She is family."

Hours had past. Gregory and Hyacinth had gone to bed, the rest of the siblings fallen asleep in the hall. Benedict passes his brother a drink as he rubs his eyes tiredly.

"I believe it will be a boy," Benedict mumbles tiredly as Anthony hums in agreement.

Their heads shot up as you quietly come from the room, gently closing it behind you, you smile brightly, "It's a boy."

Anthony and Benedict share a laugh, as the other siblings startle awake. They celebrate together as Anthony walks towards you, gently wiping away the happy tear that rolled down your cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you rest your hands on his chest as holds you close.

"Thank you, Y/n."

"Always, Anthony."

3. Take my hand.

Aubrey Hall looked stunning under the summer sun, the garden decorated with numerous tents, surrounding a platform for dancing, a band siting in the corner.

"It looks truly beautiful," Daphne mutters as you nod in agreement, watching as Lords and Ladies began to dance under the evening sky.

Anthony and Colin walk up to the two of you and Anthony takes a moment to take in how breath taking you look. A sheer black dress sat over a burgundy one with think straps, sheer black gloves reach over your elbows, dark hair curled and pulled into a perfect bun. He smiled gently as you thank him for the drink he passed you, the four of you stand on the steps watching down on the garden party.

"Is that Lord Elton your father is talking too?" Colin asks, squinting under the sun as the three of your follow Colin's gaze, "Why would your father be speaking to Lord Elton, the man that has been rumoured to be the biggest prick of the ton."

Anthony reaches behind you, smacking his brother around the back of his head, but none-the-less doesn't disagree.

"Why would your father be talking to Lord Elton?" Colin asks as Daphne and yourself share a worried expression.

"I will be back in a moment," You rush down the steps and hurry towards your father.

Anthony watches with a heavy feeling sat in his heart as you gently interrupt their conversation. His stare hardens as Lord Elton gently presses a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Stop glaring," Daphne gently nudges her older brothers arm.

"Lady Y/n looks beautiful tonight, I am sure he is hoping for much more,"

Anthony smacks his brother again as Daphne rolls her eyes at the two, "Anthony, you truly need to see that Y/n would be a fine wife for you."

"She is your closest friend, Daphne," Anthony replies, swallowing thickly as he watches you, "She is family-"

"She makes the world stop for you, doesn't she?" Daphne rhetorically asks, "She makes you happy and you make her happy too, I only wish for the two of you to be happy together."

Anthony looks down at his sister, mirroring her soft smile as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Colin chuckles, "In other words brother, be a man and tell her how you feel." Colin ducks before his older brother could smack him.

You pull your father to the side as Lord Elton walks away to get himself a drink. Your father was the only family you had after your mother's passing a few years ago. Recently, your father had been having these spells as your father calls it, moments where he forgot about the world around him and focused on the stars, believing your mother was calling him from the stars.

"Lord Elton is a good man-"

"Father, I understand you are worried but he is not a good man, I wouldn't be happy-"

"But you would be safe and have money, the children you have will be looked after," You father gently argues, cupping your face he brushes his thumb over your cheek, "If I can not remember you, my darling, I want to forget with you secure and with someone I trust."

"You trust him?" You ask, brows pinched together as you look at your father, "Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Lord Elton is hardly around, he is wealthy," You father answers, "You would have my inheritance-"

"That he would take, he is a wicked man-"

"You mustn't think the worst of people," Your father's gaze harden slightly as he sighs, shoulders dropping, "I don't know how long I have left and I need you to be safe when I pass."

"I will-"

"Lord Elton will provide for you, and he has enough to do so," You father finalizes, "I will be giving him my blessing."

Your father walks away as you watch with a sudden pit of anxiety sat in your stomach. Looking over your shoulder the Bridgeton siblings had disappeared which your thankful for as you rush up the stairs and into the house.

You rush further into the house, away from the garden party, you finally sob, pressing a gloved hand over your mouth as you slide down the wall, falling into tears.

Outside Anthony watches as you quickly walk away and into the house, passing his drink to Benedict before quickly following. He smiles politely as people greet him before rushing further into the house. Anthony frowns, falling beside you to bring you into a hug letting you sob into his chest.

"My father is ill," You whisper, as you wipe away your tears, moving to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I am sorry," Anthony replies, pressing a kiss on your head, "What is wrong?"

"He has these spells," You quietly say, "He believes he can hear my mother and she is telling him to meet him in the stars, he has fits and spells of anger where he locks himself in his office."

"What can be done?" Anthony take one of your gloves off, lacing your fingers together.

"Nothing," You reply, wiping another fallen tear, "He wants to marry me off to Lord Elton so he can pass knowing I am safe-"

"Lord Elton is a wicked man-"

"Please tell my father, Ant," You lean your chin on his shoulder as he peers down at you, "I don't want to marry him."

"I know," Anthony presses a kiss on your forehead, "I won't let it happen."

You breath a laugh, tightening your hand in his, "And how will you do that, my Lord?"

Anthony swallows thickly, before resting his forehead on yours, "Whatever to make sure you are happy."

4. Our final moment.

On a warm summers day, your father hosted a game of croquet, inviting the Bridgerton family, The Duke and Lord Elton for a friendly game. Taylor summer house was grand, your favourite home; tall tower like structures either side of the grand entrance, a library with bookcases from the floor to the ceiling and a garden that reached for miles, the house surrounded by trees. It was simply beautiful.

"May I say," Lord Elton says, pushing back his thick dark hair off the thin line of sweat, "This house would be magnificent to raise children in."

You share a look with Daphne after Lord Elton winked at you. Anthony glared at him as the Duke nudged him, raising a brow at him to which he rolled his eyes at. You gently tugged the sleeves of your lace sleeves over your knuckles as your father awkwardly chuckles, breaking the slight pause at the Lord's comment.

"I think Lord Taylor and I will sit the rest of this out," Violet gently smiles, placing a comforting hand on your arm sensing your uneasiness.

"I agree, I grow tired quickly now I grow old," You father jokes, smiling gratefully as Benedict passes him a drink before he sits.

"You've been old for awhile, father," You press a quick kiss on his head as you pass, smiling as Anthony passes you a blue mallet. The sibling's yourself and the Duke, carry on with the game, walking down the garden hill to the next match.

"What a quick tongue," Lord Elton jokes, taking the yellow mallet from Anthony's hand, "I am sure we can fix that when you'll be mine."

"I am no object you can claim," You take the yellow mallet from his hands, passing it back to Anthony as you pass, "And I do not need to be fixed."

Anthony shares a smirk with Simon as Daphne and Eloise share a laugh hidden under their hands. Benedict pats your shoulder with a proud smile before you take your shot perfectly.

As the game continues, you stand beside Anthony and Daphne, laughing gently at Colin's misfortune and bad aim. Lord Elton follows on, whacking the ball and Anthony's out the way making Anthony's roll down the hill. Anthony glares as you roll your eyes at Lord Elton's smirk. Daphne goes next, sending a cheeky wink to her husband as she hits your ball, coincidently making it follow Anthony's.

"I guess we need to go for a hunt, Lord Bridgerton," You smile cheekily, taking Anthony's arm.

As Lord Elton goes to object, Anthony smiles, "We will catch up, continue."

Simon wraps an arm around Daphne's shoulders as the two share a knowing smile.

Anthony and yourself walk down the hill, your hand falls into his in a more intimate moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you found your croquet balls stuck in mud at the edge of the tree line.

"Come on,"

Anthony watches as you walk into the mud, bunching your dress in one hand. You whack the ball out of the mud, before looking at Anthony with a raised brow. He chuckles before sighing as he steps into the mud, whacking the ball out of the mud and beside yours. Anthony takes a step out of the mud, sighing at his new black shoes now covered in mud.

"Anthony,"

Anthony looks over at you, who is struggling to get out of the mud, your mallet now fallen beside you as you try and pull your foot out. Anthony steps back into the mud, hand catching yours, as he gently pulls you into his arms.

Looking down at you, you hold onto his arms, tugging gently to try and free yourself, "May I lift you?"

"You may,"

Placing his hands on your waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he lifts you out of the mud. As he goes to walk out of the mud, he finds himself stuck making to two of you tumble forward. You back hits the mud first, his body falling on yours. The two of you gaze at each other, before breaking into a fit of laughter, your arms wrap around his shoulders, legs slotted together.

"Your covered in mud," Anthony murmurs as the laughter dies, bright smiles gracing your faces.

"My back and just your knees," You wink, "How scandalous."

Anthony laughs again, eyes searching yours as his cheeks blush pink, "A rumour that may save you from marriage."

"So that was your plan all along,"

"Possibly."

His eyes flickered over your face, before falling onto your lips, you barely tilted your head at him, raising your brows when you let your eyes level at his mouth, at those pink lips.

"Anthony," You breathlessly whispered.

His lips meet in the most romantic kiss, one full of passion and unspoken love. A muddied hand cupped your cheek as Anthony leaned down on his elbow beside your head, you hands fell to cup the back of his head, fingertips running down his nape as you pulled him, if possible, closer. You moaned into his mouth as the hand that once cupped your cheek gripped your hip tightly bunching your dress in his fist as instinctively hitch your leg over his hip.

The kisses turn more hungry and needy, his tongue dancing over yours as his hips press into yours. His hand runs over your ankle that sits on his hip, running his hand down the length of your smooth leg before resting it on your upper thigh.

"Lady Y/n! Anthony!"

The two of you quickly pull apart as Colin comes bounding down the hill. Scrambling to your feet, Anthony helps you out of the mud before picking up your mallet passing it to you before picking up his own. Colin stops, looking between the two of you with a wide cheeky grin.

"You have a little mud on your cheek," Colin points to your cheek making your eyes go wide as you quickly try brushing away the mud off your cheek.

"We will be there in a moment," Anthony tells his brother.

Colin nods, unable to take the smile off his face as he sends you a cheeky wink before walking back up the hill. Anthony takes his handkerchief from his pocket, standing in front of you as her cups your cheek, gently cleaning the mud from your cheek. His eyes never leave yours as he does. Shrugging out of his jacket, he wraps it around your shoulders, helping you slide your arms into his jacket.

"To hide the mud," He quietly jokes, making you blush.

"Thank you," Anthony smiles, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

5. 'I love you.'

Lord Elton held a ball in order to celebrate your engagement. Though it was a little beforehand as you had yet to be asked for your hand in marriage. The hall was decorated beautifully with white flowers, tall champagne towers and a band playing on a stage.

Anthony was unable to look away from you; a white dress with lace detailing and long sleeves that fell over your knuckles, flower embroidery decorating the skirt. You hair was long and curled, half of it pinned back with delicate pearls.

"You are staring again," Eloise nudged her brothers arm.

"I can not help it," Anthony admits, eyes meeting your as you look over your shoulder, you send him a kind smile though your eyes betray you true feelings.

"This is your last chance to tell her," Eloise tells him softly, taking a sip of her drink, "Or Lord Prick will marry her."

Anthony chuckles, looking down at his sister fondly, "Stop listening to Colin's foul language."

"I believe I learnt that from you, brother."

You grasp your father hand in your own as his began to shake. Lord Elton rambles on about something, but you pay no attention, focusing on your father.

"Lord, I hope you don't mind but I think my father has had enough for tonight," You smile gently at him, "I think its time to go home."

"Of course, I will accompany you-"

"That isn't necessary-"

"When you are mine, I will not let you out of my sight," Lord Elton pulling your father closing to him and out of your hand, "I will take him to the carriage, get whatever you need."

You watch helplessly as he takes you father away, worry sitting in the pit of your stomach as you gently push through the crowd. The announcement that the ball is over is shouted as you take Daphne's hand, gently pulling her aside.

Her worried eyes meet your own, "My father is about to have a spell and Lord Elton is coming with us, possibly to propose, what do I do?"

She squeezes your hand, "Talk to him, quickly. My brother loves you, go before it's too late."

You nod, quickly pressing a kiss on her cheek before quickly walking towards the eldest Bridgerton brother. He stands alone, waiting for his siblings and mother to collect themselves before getting into the carriage. His eyes widen as you approach meeting you halfway, placing his hand on your shoulders as his eyes meet your worried ones.

"What happened?"

"I am taking my father home, he is unwell," You rush out, "Tell me you love me."

"Pardon-?"

"The prick will propose with my father's blessing in his state, he is playing a wicked game and I know it, so tell me you love me as I love you and be the man my father wants me to marry, be that man I feel safe with."

Anthony's brain pauses, his heart stopping as his hands fall from your shoulders. You heart hurts, taking his moment to mean rejection. You look over your shoulder as a butler calls your name, telling you a carriage has arrived.

Looking back at Anthony, he stares, eyes glazed over as you nod once before walking away, brushing past the Bridgerton siblings, ignoring Daphne as she calls your name.

"He missed his chance," Eloise sadly mutters, head falling onto Benedict's shoulder as he watches his older brother crumble.

---

Holding your father's hand tightly, you guide him through the house as he mutters quietly to himself. Taking him into the office, you sit him down into the chair before pulling the curtains closed, closing your father away from the heavy rain and sudden shout of thunder.

"What is happening?" Lord Elton asks as you father mutters to himself, head in hands as you kneel beside him.

"He is fine," You defensively dismiss him, "Thank you for your assistance but you may leave-"

"He is losing his mind," Lord Elton laughs, watching as your father gently rocks himself, looking up at the ceiling, muttering about your mother and the stars, "Look at the man."

"Don't you dare-"

"Do what?" Lord Elton rhetorically asks, taking a further step into the office, "You are simply a woman and he is a freak."

"You are simply a beast of a man, one that is cruel and heartless," You spit, clutching your father hands tighter in your own as a tear rolls down your cheek, "I will never except your hand in marriage."

Lord Elton glare down at you, before spitting horridly at yours and your fathers feet, "I wouldn't touch the Bridgerton's whore anyway."

"Leave before I write to the Queen herself, describing how much of a prick you truly are, and then no woman will want to touch you."

Lord Elton snarls before slamming every door on his way out. You turn to your father, letting go of one of his hands to gently cup his face, he tiredly blinks at you as you wipe away a tear.

"I am sorry," Your father quietly whispers, "I am so sorry, my dear."

"Do not apologise, you wanted what was best for me," You reply with a quick pained smile, "But I am afraid what I thought was best for me, doesn't want me."

"Anthony knows, he is just scared." Your father gently rests his forehead on yours, "Your mother was everything to me, when you where born you became everything as well, I want what is best for you and I got carried away in my own worries that you would be alone when I pass that I was unable to see how I was going to marry you with a man that was going to do more harm than happiness."

"You need to rest," You pull away, standing up to help him, "I will ask the cook to get you something warm to eat-"

"I can do that, darling," You father squeezes your hand, giving you a warm smile, "Go and find your happiness."

"I can not leave you like this-"

You father presses a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will be fine, now go."

---

"I froze, how could I be so stupid?"

Benedict sighs, sitting beside his brother, who holds his head in his hands, cheeks stained with tears. Daphne kneels in front of him, placing a hand on his knee as Violet sits the other side of him, placing a comforting hand on her son's back.

"Love makes us do stupid things," His mother gently whispers sadly.

"I have loved her for so long and Y/n tells me she loves me and I suddenly do not know how to reply," Anthony finally breaks, looking at his mother as a tear runs down his cheek, "I have lost her."

"No, no you have not," Violet brings her son in her arms, pressing a kiss on his head, "You can still go to her, tell her before it is too late."

"Lord Elton-"

"Do you honestly believe that Y/n would chose Lord Elton over the one she truly loves?"

Anthony looks down at his sister, who offers him a knowing smile. Benedict pats his brother's shoulder, mirroring Daphne's smile.

Violet nods, squeezing her son's hand tightly, "Go and get your happiness, Anthony."

---

The maids shout after you as you rush out of the house, hands gripping your dress tightly as you run through the rain. You hair sticks to your neck, the white dress ruined but you couldn't find yourself to care.

The Bridgerton siblings and Violet watch as Anthony rushes out of the house, smiling happily as they watch Anthony run down the street. Simon takes his wife's hand in his own, pressing a kiss on her head before gently taking his son out of her arms. Eloise beams as Colin wraps an arm around her shoulder as Benedict wraps his arms around the two youngest. Violet wipes the tear off her cheek as she finally watches her eldest son chase after the purest love.

Rounding the corner, the streets are empty, only lit up by the golden glow from the house windows. You suddenly stop as he does, standing opposite sides of the road. His hair sticks to his forehead, white skirt sticking to his arms as his blue waistcoat is soaked in rain.

Your chest heaves as your heart pounds in your chest, the two of you clash into a hug. His arms wrap around your waist as your wrap around his shoulders, holding you close to him, he presses a light kiss on your neck before pulling away slightly.

"I do, I do love you," Anthony breaths out, "I am sorry I froze, but hearing you tell me you love me, I- It was all I have ever wanted to hear."

You smile, gently pressing a hand to the back of his nape, resting his forehead to yours, "There are many reasons why I couldn't marry Lord Elton, not only because he was a prick but because I couldn't imagine marry anyone else but you."

"Then marry me," Anthony says, nose brushing against yours as he smiles, "Let me call you my wife, let me have children with you, grow old with you, let me kiss you when I want, let me love you."

You share a kiss under the stars, one full of spoken and knowing love, one of passion and understanding. His hand holds the back of your head as your hands slide down his shoulders, resting on his chest, his heart thumping under your touch. He holds onto desperately, kissing you with all his love, before gently pulling away, resting his forehead on yours with a love sick smile.

"I love you," Anthony whispered against your lips.

"I love you too."

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

The Hands That Hold You

Yandere Assasin Harem x Oblivious Fem Reader

TW: Somniaphilia, uncomfortable themes, yandere, stalking, mention of size difference, potential of being held captive, cunninglingus, smut, etc

The town of Rellikhold, a peaceful town filled with quirky citizens. Each with a mysterious past and lack of warmth. And you had received a special invitation by the government to live in this new town! Aren’t you lucky?

Poor little you had no clue that this town was filled with ex-contract killers who’ve never felt warmth nor kindness in their life… they were all a moth to your flame. Each one wanting to stake a claim on you, even if it was at the expense of another’s life. You belonged to them.

Callum: Scotland (Florist)

Callum is a massive man with a soft yet muscular build. He has a thick red beard that he keeps trimmed and a mustache he keeps curled up. Callum also has red chest hair and arm hair (the curtains definitely match the drapes). He is 35 years old and a retired sniper. Callum has a heavy Scottish accent and he’s the warmest of the villagers.

This big, muscular red head was shocked when you waltzed into his shop. You were so small and your steps were so clumsy like a newborn fawn. Yet it was your eyes that caught his attention. He’s never seen someone’s eyes filled with such innocence. It intrigued him.

Callum is easily flustered with from your bright smile and warm personality. Yet he can’t help the intrigue he felt from your arrival. From one glance, he knew you were just a regular civilian… what on earth were you doing here? This place was so dangerous.

Yet you’re oblivious to everyone’s past and treat him no differently from a regular man! Your interest in his flowers warm his heart… Callum is immediately taken to you. You’re so cute and you’d fit so perfectly in his arms… he’s never felt this way before.

Callum often looks forward to your visits to his shop. The red head often reorganizes the flowers just to make sure they’re to your liking! Callum always makes sure his beard is well trimmed and his long curls are pulled up into a bun. He has to look presentable for his little lady!

Often lingers around you like a shadow when you’re in the shop. Callum would lose his marbles if you ever came into his shop with a visible wound or bruise. He’s extremely obsessed with your well being.

Callum often offers you his jacket and holds doors open for you, he’s a total gentleman. A gentleman who believes you’re his. He sees no other logical explanation on why you visit him so often. You have to have a crush on him, right?! Don’t worry… he doesn’t mind that you’re shy. He has no trouble taking the lead.

It will take a total of four months until he’s trying to be more physically affectionate towards you. Callum believes the two of you are dating. His large, calloused hands often brush against yours or he’ll grab your waist to steer you in another direction. He cannot get over the size difference.

You’ll often have free bouquets delivered to your house with cute hand written notes. Which are often accompanied by Gaelic terms of endearment. “M’eudail. Mo chridhe. Etc.”

And if Callum ever spots you with one of ten other villagers? His stabs at affection take a turn to be more bold. In his mind, you’re trying to make him jealous… not to worry! Callum will give you more of his time! Whatever you want, he will give you! Even the heads of your enemies neatly arranged in a bouquet.

Callum I willing to do anything to keep you happy and satisfied. He’s the least selfish of the others. If you want to have a sexual relationship with him, he’d be more than happy to oblige!

Callum will have you bent over every surface and even his shop (with the curtains pulled down of course). Just so he can stuff you with his thick fingers and fat cock. He’s extremely giving and he’s more than happy to perform cunninglingus on you.

One day, you went into his shop and were filled with such fright, it made his heart ache!

“What are you so scared for, m’eudail?” Callum husky voice asked. The large man made his way over to your disheveled form. “Has someone frightened you?”

Callum bent down to your level and held your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs brushed a few tears from your cheeks as he shushed you.

“It’s okay, mo chridhe. I’ll keep you safe.”

Günter: Germany (Police Officer)

A tall, muscular blonde riddled in scars from head to toe. His blonde hair is always cut in a military cut and he’s extremely stoic. No one can ever tell what he’s thinking and he hardly speaks. Günter is Char’s identical twin brother and also an ex bounty hunter. The pair are both 29 years old and very feared members in the community from their reputation.

Günter was extremely wary of you at first. He isn’t used to people taking notice of someone like him or being warm to him.

Günter is extremely stiff when you interact with him. He often glances the other way if you stare at him with your pretty eyes for too long. He’s unsure of why his heart flutters whenever you’re around. Günter has never been in a relationship in his entire life. He’s so awkward and quiet around you, but his stoic expression never shows it.

You once grabbed his hand when you tripped and Günter swore he was electrocuted. He was quick to help you up onto your feet as he silently checked you over. His heart thrummed in his chest when you gave him such a sweet, grateful smile. It’s how Günter realized he’s smitten with you.

Günter often offered to walk you home to keep you safe. He’s the least delusional of the others and a rather lucid yandere. He is aware of the difference of reality and his fantasies. Which is why he will never act upon them on you. Everyone else is free game.

If someone upsets you even the slightest bit, they are instantly on his shit list. And if they make you cry or try to harm you? They’re as good as dead. He’s the town’s cop and the most prolific killer of them, so what can they do to stop him?

Günter is very aware of the others’ twisted feelings towards you, especially Char’s. He often hides around the corner as he watches his sister wash your hair. He’s a bit jealous of the intimacy, but he knows better than to be greedy. He’s a cop, not a hairdresser.

He’s usually quite silent but he often shows you his soft side. Soft smiles and tender touches. Günter is incredibly gentle despite his massive height.

Günter would be over the moon if you wanted a relationship of any kind with him! If it’s sexual, you sadly won’t be doing much walking. Günter tries his best to be gentle, but he soon finds himself blowing your back out while he whispers German pet names in your ears.

Günter also secretly has a breeding kink so keep an eye on him. If he’s in the heat of the moment, he will whisper his darkest desires in your ear. Of how he wants you round and fat with his kids with a ring on your finger.

And Günter will not share. So don’t even think about sleeping with anyone other than him or he will make several attempts to baby trap you.

“Meine Liebe, why do you cry?” Günter asked you softly with a frown. The police officer sat beside you on the park bench, his muscular arms now wrapped around you in a hug. “You know you can tell me anything… did someone make you upset?”

You just rest your head on his chest which made Günter melt into a puddle. He’s quick to scoop you up into his arms. “Do you want to head to my home, meine liebes Mädchen? It’s getting dark out and it can get dangerous at night.”

And the instant you nod your head, you’re swept off your feet in a bridal carry. His normally stoic face now had a small smile on it.

Finally… you were finally coming home where you belonged.

Wan: China (Photographer)

Wan is an average height man of Chinese descent. He’s quite feminine appearance wise, but don’t like that fool you. He’s one of the most dominant of the villagers.

Wan typically keeps to himself. Hes not as massive or intimidating as the other men. His long black hair is typically pulled back into a braid and he usually roams the village’s park or beach.

Wan is a bit shocked when he first met you since he can tell off the bat that you’re a regular civilian. Did the government send you as some sort of social experiment to see if their retirement was successful? To see if a group of ex- bounty hunters can integrate into society without a hitch? How peculiar.

Wan often trailed you home to see if you had any attachments to any governments. He didn’t want a government spy ruining his idyllic life and he was not afraid to eliminate you if that were the case… but you were clean! Annoyingly so.

You had simple hobbies and a permanent smile on your face. You were friendly and warm like a dog… like a pet. It made Wan’s mind wander to more promiscuous thoughts. Would you enjoy a collar and a leash while he dominated every aspect of your life? Perhaps you would since you always greeted him with such a warm smile and baked goods. You must have some sort of attraction to him, right? Why else would you bake for an acquaintance so often? (Wan had no clue you did for all of your friends).

Wan often invited you out for walks with him on the beach while he snaps photographs. It’s when you accidentally enter one of his shots that turn his whole world upside down. How could someone be so beautiful?

Wan started to snap photos of you smiling and dancing when in his company but it wasn’t enough. These simple photographs simply wouldn’t do for him anymore.

What started off as innocent photography took a quick, dark turn into obsession.

Wan began to slip behind you in the shadows to follow you everywhere. Whether you were simply enjoying a meal or beverage, or even sleeping, Wan captured it all behind his lens. Wan wanted more! More. More. More. More!!

His photography room was now covered in photos of you. There was not a single empty space left of the wall or ceiling that wasn’t adorned with your being. His darkroom still had thousands of photos developing as well. Wan simply couldn’t get enough.

When Wan found out there were others, he was extremely upset. What on earth did you see in Callum or Günter? They weren’t nearly as impressive as him! Wan was slim and far more flexible. Wan could bend your body in ways it’s never been before.

Wan often snuck into your room to lay beside you. To inhale your scent and to caress your soft, pliable body. Would you freak out if you woke up to see him or would you submit to his desires? This risqué game of his never grew tiring…

If you begin a sexual relationship with Wan, he’s incredibly rough. He has incredibly sadistic tendencies such as pulling hair, choking, licking up your tears, and harsh spankings… but he will talk you through it.

Slender fingers stroked your cheeks as you slept soundly. Wan smiled at how unaware of your surroundings you were. How could someone be so cute?

“Lǎopó, you’re so precious…” Wan bent forward and tenderly pressed his lips against yours. In his eyes, you were his lover. His and no one else’s. “I just want you to be my beloved pet, bǎobèi.”

Wan pulled your covers over your shoulders and over his body while he spooned you. This was the only time you were all his and no one else’s… and that’s the way he preferred it to be.

Amari: Thailand (Musician)

Amari is an amab individual but prefers to go by they/them. The twenty four year old often enchant others with their ethereal beauty. They have sun kissed skin and long black hair that frames a symmetrical face, one would think they were carved by the gods themselves. Yet Amari is partially blind due to their final assignment so they were forced into an early retirement compared to the others. Yet they pretend they’re fully blind to appear weaker to the others. They’re one of the most dangerous of the villagers due to their unpredictable mannerisms.

Amari can often be found in Belladonna’s restaurant playing the khene. Their mystic melody is as intriguing as they are which often captivates their audience.

Amari is incredibly shy and will be startled at first if you talk to them. Yet they’re eager for the companionship. Amari is the easiest to get close to compared to the others due to their young age. If you compliment them, they’re completely enraptured by you. You think they’re beautiful?! You love their music? Amari cannot get enough of praise.

Amari often trails after you like a lost puppy. They will often play the ‘helpless blind’ card just so they can hold your hand. They can’t get enough of how soft you are. Oh what they wouldn’t give to be able to see you… there was not a doubt in their mind that you were lovely.

Amari will play their khene for you and sometimes they’ll even sing. They’re your own personal song bird! They’re willing to perform any song for you so long as you eagerly listen to them just like they eagerly wait for your praise!

Amari will want to spend every breathing moment by your side. They’re stuck to you like velcro and unmovable. Suffocatingly clingy due to them never receiving warmth, Amari cannot get enough of your sweetness. They want you all to themselves.

They cannot stand you giving your attention and affection to the others. Look at them! Listen to their music, you said it was lovely! Just be theirs! Please. Please. Please. Please.

Amari will pathetically beg for your love on their hands and knees. They will use every card in their deck to manipulate you into their hands. They will not share and they will not surrender you.

No matter how puppy like they are to you, they’re a monster the others will not go near. Being involved with them is like being trapped in a spider’s web. You were doomed from the first interaction.

They’re one of the only ones who will stoop low enough to take advantage of you in your sleep (besides Wan). Their mouth is always buried between your legs as you sleep completely unaware of their efforts to get you used to them. They can’t get enough of how sweet you taste. Of how your body contorts and your toes curl in pleasure. Sometimes if the moonlight hits your face just right, they can see your face. And they make sure to burn that image in their memory forever. Oh what they would give for you to know it was them.

Amari pressed kisses up and down your thighs as your back arches in pleasure. So beautiful… so unaware. You’re just like a butterfly caught in a spider’s web.

“I love you…” Amari whispered against your skin, the assassin ran a tanned hand through their long locks in an attempt to reel themselves in. It was easy for them to get lost in the moment, but they needed to be patient. “And I know you love me too.”

Amari pulls themselves away from in between your legs and rests their head on your stomach. A soft hum escaped their thin lips in thought. It was such a beautiful night and they were happy to spend it with you.

Char: Germany (Hair Dresser)

Char is Günter’s identical twin and they couldn’t be more similar if they try. It’s easy to confuse one for the other since Char looks incredibly masculine. The only difference is their placements of scars and her blonde hair is just a little bit longer.

It takes awhile to earn Char’s friendship. She’s quite self conscious of herself since she looks so much like a man. Compliments will win her over and make her blush. She’s quite fond of being called handsome or beautiful.

She enjoys washing and trimming your hair for you. She cannot get over how soft your hair feels between her fingers…

It doesn’t take long for her to fall for you compared to her brother. She’s another sucker for praise, but she gives praise even more. Char is the queen of pet names.

Char is incredibly protective of you, just like Günter. The difference between them is that Char collects little keepsakes from you. Oh yes, she has a shrine dedicated completely to you.

Char is obsessed with you. She collects the trimmings of your hair and any utensils you had used in her salon. She tells herself it’s to keep herself from acting on her impulses, but that’s a lie. She’s simply obsessed with you.

If you ever vent to her about any one in the village, especially new comers, she will get rid of them for you personally. Typically in a rather brutal fashion. Anyone who upsets you simply doesn’t deserve to live.

If you’re ever curious about her past, she will tell you. She’s the least secretive and the most honest. Char will even admit about her shrine of you if you ask. She wants to be an open book that you can read at anytime. Trust her.

Char will often flee to the back room of her salon if she gets a bit too riled up from her interactions with you. If you follow her to the back because you’re worried, there’s no guarantee she won’t have you bent over the break room table with her lips eagerly pressed against yours and her fingers yanking at the waist band of your pants.

Out of everyone, Char is the most obsessed with your pleasure. She’s incredibly giving. It doesn’t matter the time or the location, if you’re a bit moody she will pull you into the nearest room and go to town. Be as loud as you want as she pushes your body to the point of overstimulation, she wants the others to know you’re hers.

“Meine Liebe…” Char whispered as she presses kisses all across your fear stricken face. An expression you always wore due to how passionate of a lover Char was. “I’m sorry I got carried away again.”

You nuzzled into your lover, who only peppered you with more kisses. “Mein liebes Haustier, I love you so much… how about you just stay in mein arms forever?”

Belladonna: French (Chef)

Belladonna was once a renowned poison specialist, hence her name. She’s a tall, slender twenty nine year old woman with fawn brown hair and sharp, feline like features. Belladonna is heartless and cold, just like the deadly poisons she once used. She’s a closeted lesbian and a very open misandrist.

Belladonna is the owner and head chef at Le Jarden. She’s quite prideful of her cooking and she only prepares the best cuisine. Belladonna has a tendency to be quite pretentious and she’s very rude if your French isn’t adequate.

Belladonna does not like Ignacia, to others it looks like she singles out Ignacia a lot, but they have a very complicated past. Belladonna is incredibly critical of others and holds herself at the highest standard. She’s also quite the bully.

Belladonna will chase out male customers from her establishment. They are not allowed in Le Jarden, no matter who they are. (She often gets into arguments with Callum over his floral choices).

If you catch her attention, it’s because you stood up for Ignacia when Belladonna gave the poor woman a verbal beat down. Belladonna immediately takes your defiance as a challenge.

Belladonna will often pick verbal fights with you, but she’s intrigued by you. You were a regular civilian and yet you stood up to her of all people? You had some guts. Plus, you still tried to be kind to her. It frustrated the chef to no end. Belladonna always feels conflicted when it comes to you.

Belladonna’s words often cut like a knife but you’re surprisingly quick witted with your comebacks. She enjoys the back and forth. To her, it’s like a game. And Belladonna wanted to win.

Her hostility increases the more she interacts with you since Belladonna has never experienced feelings of this magnitude before. Belladonna could not differentiate between love and hate. You confused her and made her mind in constant disarray…

You’re sweet to the point you make her teeth rot and she hates it… or at least she tells herself that.

Belladonna hates when you interact with the others! Especially the men (and Amari). She’s much better than them- wait… why did she care so much about what you did?

Your once pleasant words soon become sour whenever she enters your peripheral. You no longer try to smile or wave at her, only scowl. It confused her even more. Why did she care whether you liked her or not? You were just a civilian… right?

You eventually snap sense into her when you tell her you despise her. You… hate her? No… she didn’t want to be hated! No. No. No.

Belladonna loses her mind when you constantly reject her. You won’t come to her restaurant and you won’t accept the many, many bouquets she leaves on your doorstep. Why won’t you forgive her? She never apologizes, so she truly means she’s sorry. Please forgive her, she can be soft. She can be soft.

She will kiss you until your lips are swollen and bruised. Until your lungs are nearly out of air and you’re breathless. Belladonna could be your oxygen! Your reason for being! She can do everything the others do, if not more! She has access to various poisons and other plants, some that could take you to pleasures of immeasurable heights! Just let her worship you…

Belladonna will go to extreme measures if you continue to ignore her desperate attempts at reconciliation. And that includes poisoning you so that you’re briefly paralyzed.

Belladonna’s slender hands hold your cheeks as she quietly sobs from above your still form. She knows you’re afraid, but this was your fault! You pushed her to do this!

“All you had to do was forgive me… Je t'adore. Je ne voulais pas te faire de mal…” Belladonna slipped into her first language while the waterworks began. She was so conflicted and confused. Her new feelings were overwhelming and concerning. Belladonna was usually level headed, but when it came to you? She was a dumpster fire.

Belladonna pressed her forehead against yours, her tears now mixed with yours into a long stream down your face.

“Je n'ai jamais ressenti ça auparavant, mais je suis sûr que je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement, ça me rend fou.”

Ignacia: Nicaragua (Writer)

Ignacia always wears a steel mask over her face and completely covers her body. No one knows what she looks like under there and she prefers to keep it that way… she was a twenty seven year old bomb specialist. At least until the accident. Her entire body is now covered in third degree burns. She is no longer beautiful so she hides herself away in order not to scare anyone. Her accident landed her in an early retirement as well.

Ignacia is biromantic and asexual. She’s always been more interested in books than people. Fictional characters comfort her more than real people.

A few years ago, she had a mission to take down a French politician and ended up destroying Belladonna’s secret hide out. Which is why Belladonna despises her. Ignacia isn’t too bothered by it though since she’s the one who received the worse end of it,

Her English isn’t the best so she rarely speaks. She often observes others from the corner of every room. Through the various interactions she observes, Ignacia created a fictional world for her characters in her stories. It was an escape from her harsh reality in the real world…

She’s so shy when you come up to her. Don’t you know she’s a beast under this mask? That she’s not as picturesque as the others?

Yet your kindness makes her knees turn to jelly and her heart leap in her chest in hopes it will escape its prison made of bones. Perhaps you were her chance at real life romance rather than the comforts of the printed texts in her books?

Ignacia is delusional. She overthinks every interaction you have with her. If you touch her hand on accident, she believes it’s because you’re shy! She’s shy too! If you compliment her eyes, she will try to wear masks that show off her eyes more. She’s so ecstatic that she shakes whenever she receives words of praise from you. It’s so exciting! Ignacia is living out a fairy tale romance!!

Ignacia began to build a perfect image of you in her head. To her, you were the perfect princess in a fairy tale book and she was the knight that would save you from the monsters (the other villagers). You were kind and sweet, the kind that needed to be locked away so nothing could harm you.

Ignacia begins to decorate your future home with her! She will ask more questions and bout your hobbies and interests so she can make it all perfect for you! She will incorporate your favorite colors and themes just to make it into your dream space! A pretty cage for her pretty princess!

Ignacia simply wants to keep you safe from harm. She doesn’t want you to ever injure or harm yourself. Her carelessness had landed her in her own predicament and she wouldn’t dare let you suffer the same fate. Ignacia was your knight in shining armor!

“Buenos díaz, mi amor!” Ignacia beamed at you while she handed you some breakfast. You were confused on your whereabouts, but Ignacia simply crinkled her eyes up from under her mask (she smiled). “Did you sleep well, mi princesa?”

“Ignacia? Where am I-“

“¡Estás en casa! !Donde perteneces!” Ignacia giggled as she affectionately pressed her mask into your cheek. Home? What did she mean by home? “Estás a salvo aquí, mi princesa. Para siempre.”

[pathologicalreid]

little duck | s.r.

in which Spencer is too excited about his first Halloween as a dad to remember he's supposed to be celebrating his birthday

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: jareau!reader, birthday party, halloween, dias des los muertos, roslyn talk, this IS my ffofa family but you don't need to read it to read this (just know that reader and jj have beef), mostly wholesome content, babies and having babies, the spencer reid dilf agenda! word count: 1.53k a/n: is this any good? not sure. it's definitely cute though.

Your eyes flickered around the kitchen, trying to spot a familiar mess of brown curls that you’d lost track of about an hour ago. “Hey,” You said to Penelope, putting an arm around her shoulders, “Have you seen my husband anywhere?”

The blonde shook her head, taking the opportunity to glance around the house to see if he was hiding in plain sight, “Haven’t seen him,” she shared a look with Emily, who shrugged, “Did you check outside?”

Shaking your head, you sighed while picking up some trash from the counter and setting it in the trash. “No, thanks though,” you flashed them a small smile before continuing your way around the house, he wasn’t in the office or the library either.

The house was decorated in a hybrid celebration of Spencer’s birthday and Halloween. Décor for the latter had started going up in September, but the fake spider that Spencer put in the guest bathroom still made your heart race. Balloons fluttered in the air while you strode past them, “Hey, there’s the lady of the house,” your head snapped up.

“Hi Dave,” you greeted Rossi with a hug, “How are you enjoying the party?”

He lifted his glass of punch up, “Other than the fact that I’m not sure how you got the punch to turn green, it’s a beautiful party. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Thanking him, you promised to come back and chat once you found Spencer, who was still missing. As for the punch, you were under strict orders not to tell anyone how the punch had turned green, but you knew that Spencer had used spinach as a natural food dye. Personally, you were avoiding the liquid like the plague.

Finally checking outside, the only thing you found was Matt’s older four chasing each other with glow sticks while their father watched on. Kristy was inside with Rosemary, who wasn’t quite old enough to chase her older siblings yet. You smiled at the thought that maybe next year she’d be able to join the big kids.

Henry and Michael were on the playset, the older of the two trying to impress his younger brother by crossing the monkey bars. You waved at Michael on the swing before closing the door behind you, turning around to continue your search in the house, jumping when you found someone behind you. “Oh,” you hung your head in shock, “You scared me.”

Your sister smiled at you, “Sorry, I saw you looked like you were searching for something, I wanted to see if you needed anything.”

JJ made your chest ache. Every time she offered to do something for you or surprised you with a gift, she continued to get into your good graces, but it just reminded you of your broken bond. Shaking your head, you looked around the living room, “I’m just looking for Spencer.”

Recognition flickered in her eyes, “He went upstairs with Amelia about ten minutes ago. I didn’t see him come down.”

You sighed in relief once you knew where your husband and baby were, “Thank you.” Making your way to the stairs, you turned and spoke up again, “And J, take some leftovers home! I really don’t need all of it.”

Hopefully, you could convince everyone to take at least something home. Throwing parties was a curse, there was always too much food. You made your way upstairs, checking the master bedroom before peeking your head into the nursery, finally finding Spencer.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Mila propped up in front of him, still learning how to stand unassisted. You leaned against the door frame, watching Spencer adjust her Halloween costume as she stared at him in wonder.

It was a tradition in your family for your mom to make the costume for Halloween, at least the first one, and Spencer was more than willing to adopt any tradition available to him, especially if it involved Halloween. You gave your mom free rein of the costume idea, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when she showed up before the party today with a baby duck costume in tow.

She was blowing raspberries at him while he brushed some feathers out of her face, “We’ll have to trim some of those, honey,” he spoke to her gently. He had refrained from putting the hood over her head, either because he didn’t want to ruin the tiny ponytail she had sticking up from her head or because he didn’t want her to get too warm, but she seemed more than content to be dressed in the bright yellow outfit.

You were thankful that she’d be comfortable in the costume because the rest of the week would be jam-packed. Tomorrow night was the FBI trunk or treat, then a Halloween party at Rossi’s, then actual Halloween, and then a Dia De Los Muertos party at Penelope’s to round off the week.

Honestly, you weren’t sure who was going to be more exhausted by the end of the week, you or Mila.

Eventually, you caught the gaze of your eight-month-old, who reached out and made grabby hands at you, exposing your location to Spencer, who turned his head to look at you, “Hey,” he said, still holding her upright even though his eyes weren’t on her.

“Hi,” you greeted back, unable to take your eyes off of the baby. More specifically, you were unable to take your eyes off of her costume.

You took a seat on the floor across from Spencer, who helped Mila off of her feet so that she could crawl to you, “Go see mama,” he urged her gently, watching as her tiny arms and legs carried her across the floor.

Once she reached you, she pushed herself up on your leg until you scooped her up, settling her in your lap and raising your eyebrows at him, “You know there’s a party going on downstairs.”

“I had noticed that, yes,” he answered, neatly folding the hood of Amelia’s costume and setting it in a pile.

Adjusting the bow on top of her head, you craned your head down and kissed the side of her head—she gurgled in response. “Did you know that they’re all here for you?”

Spencer smiled slightly, “I knew that too.”

Mila continued to babble while you looked at your husband curiously, “And yet,” you started, “You’re up here, putting her Halloween costume on while you should be at your birthday party.”

“I just wanted to see her in it,” he confessed, eyes flickering down at his daughter in her baby duck costume.

You had to admit, she was heart-achingly cute in the handmade costume. You were so happy when your mom brought up making the costume, not wanting to ask right out for it.

From the day she was born, Amelia was surrounded by family, you and Spencer made sure of it. She was cuddled up in the hospital with a blanket that Penelope crocheted. Even her nickname—Mila—had been granted to her by Derek’s daughter, who couldn’t quite swing the three-syllable name at the time.

There was a pit in your chest that was brought upon you by the symbolism of the costume, you often wondered what life would be like if your eldest sister was still around. You wondered what she’d think of your baby’s middle name—Rose—and if she’d think it was cool. “Hey, Spence?” You whispered, carefully standing up with Amelia in tow.

“Yes, my love?” He responded, following your lead and getting up off the floor, taking the baby from you, and changing her into pajamas.

You hummed behind him, taking the discarded costume and folding it up, placing it on top of the dresser until you needed it tomorrow. “Happy birthday,” you told him for the nth time today.

He smiled at you, resting Mila on his hip before he turned back to you, “Thank you.” Spencer leaned over and kissed you, the action receiving a coo from your daughter.

Laughing softly, you cupped her head tenderly, “It was a pretty good year, huh?”

Spencer pulled you into his side, you being held in one arm, and Mila in the other. “Yeah,” he murmured, “This one was definitely a favorite.”

Becoming a parent with Spencer was a dream come true, there was nothing you could think of that would top this year. Tilting your head back, you looked up at him, “So, what are you going to wish for this year?”

His gaze flittered down to the baby on his hip.

You shook your head immediately, “Pick something else,” you said, giggling at his silent suggestion. To you, it felt much too soon to think about another baby, and you knew Spencer was mostly joking. The two of you had previously decided on waiting.

Spencer sighed in response, looking between you and Mila, “More of this,” he answered, “The three of us, together.”

Raising your eyebrows, “Avoiding a party together.”

“As a family should,” he affirmed, beaming at you.

You were smiling so much that your cheeks ached, and you nodded your head in the direction of the door, “C’mon, there’s a cake downstairs with your name on it. Literally.”  

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Family Of Four

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none

Being a young mother of two small children, one of whom is 3 months and the other 4 years old, is something no one could have prepared you for. You knew from the beginning that it wasn't going to be easy since Lando couldn't always be there to help you with the two of them, but sometimes you thought you were gonna lose your mind.

Phoebe was 4 years old, the spitting image of her dad. She was a little lady with big brown curls and sassy attitude who always stole everyone's hearts with her personality. On the other hand, Kian was only 3 months old, usually a very calm little baby boy who was a perfect mix of both you and Lando.

This was one of those days when you wanted to jump out of your own skin. One of those days when you didn't know what to do first, who to take first, who to comfort first. Both kids were screaming crying, Phoebe because she was hungry, even though she refused to eat 20 minutes before when you asked her, and Kian because he had stomach cramps that were very painful.

While Phoebe was throwing a tantrum and rolling on the floor screaming, Kian was crying so hard that you almost cried too because you didn't know how to help him anymore. You were going crazy while waiting for Lando to come back from work duties.

Days like this didn't happen often, but when they did, you felt like you were failing as a mother. Deep down you knew it wasn't true, but you just couldn't understand how a pregnant Nara Smith manages to literally produce cereal for her children's breakfast, yet here you are, not even able to calm your two children by yourself.

"It's okay, it's okay baby boy, please stop crying" You despaired, talking softly, rubbing Kian's back and walking around the living room with him. "Phoebe, get up from the floor right now!"

"I'm hungry!"

"Can you just wait 5 more minutes until your brother stops crying? Can you please do that for me?"

"No, I want daddy!" She yelled which startled Kian and made him cry even more.

"Oh my God.." You were on the verge of a breakdown. "Shh, baby, it's okay..shh"

Thankfully, minutes after she screamed for her dad, Lando walked through the front door.

"Guys, what is going on here?" He asked taking off his jacket looking at the chaotic scene in front of him.

"Please, do something" Your voice trembled, the tears already formed in your eyes threatening to spill out.

"Baby, what's going on? Are you okay?" He approached you putting one hand on your cheek and the other on Kian's back.

"No" You shook your head. "I'm going to the bedroom to try to calm him down. Phoebe's hungry because she didn't wanna eat 20 minutes ago when I begged her to. Now she's screaming for no reason."

"I'll deal with her, don't worry, okay?" He said kissing your cheek before you left with Kian in your arms.

"Pheebs, get up, c'mon" Lando said gently pulling her up by her arm.

"Daddy" She cried with no tears.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He asked lifting her up in his arms and brushing her hair from her sweat-sticky face.

"I'm hungry"

"Okay, but have you ever been hungry for more than 10 minutes before you got to eat?" He asked walking to the kitchen with her and sitting her down on the kitchen island. "Have you?"

"No.." She said quietly sniffling and looking down at her hands.

"Baby, look at me" Lando gently lifts her chin up with his finger "You're a big sister now, and big sisters don't act this way. If your brother is crying because he's in pain, you need to be patient. No one's gonna forget about you, but you need to help mommy, and you screaming while she's trying to calm him down is not helpful at all."

Phoebe stayed silent looking at Lando with sad puppy eyes before asking "Do you l-love baby brother more than me?"

Pheebs was daddy's girl from day one. She was his first one. His everything and more. She had him completely wrapped around her finger and he knew it, but he loved it.

Since he was away a lot, he couldn't spend as much time as he wanted with his kids so he was always very lenient with them. Especially with Pheebs because she was older. She always got what she wanted and Lando was always very happy to fulfill her every wish.

He could never say no to her. How could he say no when every time when Lando goes on a race, she calls him on a video call to say "I miss you daddy, you're going to win tomorrow because you're the best" It makes his heart melt every time.

"Baby, mommy and I love you and your brother equally. There's no way we love one more than the other, okay?" He said cupping her cheeks. "But you're always gonna be daddy's little girl, yeah? My tiny princess" He starts tickling her showering kisses all over her face making her giggle.

"Will my princess eat now so we can go get ready for bed?" He asked to which she quickly agreed nodding her head.

After dinner, Lando helped her brush her teeth, put on her pyjamas and put her to bed.

"I love you, daddy." She stretched out her arms for one more hug before Lando got up and left her room.

"I love you too, darling. Good night."

Once he was done with Phoebe, he went to see where you and Kian were.

"Y/n?" He said quietly entering your bedroom with dimmed lights. You were lying on the bed next to Kian who was finally asleep. "Are you sleeping?"

"No" You answered quietly as he sat down next the two of you.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asked noticing that your eyes were red from crying. "Come here" Opening his arms, he pulls you to himself.

"I'm so tired, Lan" You sob quietly into his chest. It was all just too much for you. You didn't have any time for yourself. You were with two little kids 24/7 and you just felt like you were losing yourself. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. He's still having cramps and it hurts me to see him in pain. And I feel like I'm neglecting Phoebe like I'm not giving her enough attention since he came and-"

"Y/n, baby, stop. I don't wanna hear you being hard on yourself. They're kids, they have their good and bad days. It doesn't mean we're failing as parents if they're having a bad day. You're the best, most loving and caring mom ever, but you need a break. Let me please find someone to help you out with them when I'm not home."

"No, I can take care of my own kids when you're not home" You were being stubborn. You were refusing to get a nanny even though you knew you needed it when Lando was away because both your and Lando's parents were not living in Monaco so they couldn't be there when you needed them.

"I know you can, but I need you to be okay above everything else." He says leaving a kiss on your head that was still resting on his chest.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's been such a hard day and I missed you so much"

"Shh, I've got you, baby."

Later that night, when both kids were fast asleep, Lando and you finally had some time for yourselves. Both of you were in the living room on the couch in front of the TV. You were half asleep with your head in Lando's lap as he played with your hair and watched some TV show.

He smiled softly when he noticed you fell asleep. He didn't want to disturb you, but he wanted to cuddle you so he pulled you up closer to him. You laid your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead whispering how much he loves you and how much he's proud of you.

[bluesidez]

[The Ideal Gaze]

lab tester: @ichigosluvrr 🩻

pairing: DadBod!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane. 

content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times

word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread

a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)

Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway. 

The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up. 

You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.

It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself. 

From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head. 

You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying. 

You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door. 

It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband. 

You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display. 

In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button. 

The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming. 

“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island. 

Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips. 

You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response. 

“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest. 

You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined. 

“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”

You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips. 

“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting. 

Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment. 

When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you. 

For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips

“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading. 

You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back. 

“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”

Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection. 

“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you. 

With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it. 

You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama. 

Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom. 

He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early. 

What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door. 

At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself. 

He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. 

You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did. 

When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues. 

You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day. 

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek. 

“You look gorgeous, honey.”

Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?

You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.

“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.” 

You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time. 

For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.

You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.

“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven. 

“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet. 

“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”

“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)

“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.

“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly. 

“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.  

Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10. 

He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”

Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.

Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.

“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.

“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.

“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”

She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.

Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”

You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit. 

“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”

“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”

“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.

You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure. 

“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.

“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”

You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.

“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone. 

“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”

Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”

“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”

“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”

You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”

“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”

He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away. 

You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.  

As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner. 

“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight. 

The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths. 

By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms. 

You couldn’t ask for anything better. 

With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think. 

Did today’s small touches mean anything?

You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.

You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it. 

You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good. 

When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say. 

Hook, line, and sinker. 

Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.

He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”

“Yeah! It’s comfy.”

He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much. 

He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped. 

He just…stopped.

“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?

You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”

He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.

“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn. 

“Night.”

You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you. 

You’re starting to think the worst. 

You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working. 

He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time. 

Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with. 

Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.

Is he cheating on you?

You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had. 

So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house. 

You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom. 

Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.  

Miguel yells, scared to death but alone. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?”

You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand. 

“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”

“What?”

“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat. 

“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”

Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”

Miguel sighs.

“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”

“Says who?”

He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”

“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”

He looked like he could cry. 

“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp. 

“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”

“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”

He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back. 

“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.” 

So much for communication. 

Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”

“You’ve been what?”

“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”

You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.

Your stomach turned with excitement.

“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”

Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.

“Did it feel good?”

Another nod.

“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”

You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.

“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”

“I did?”

“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”

You squeeze at his arms on your sides. 

“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”

You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.

“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”

Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.

“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”

With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.

“Can I show you how much I love you?”

“Please.”

With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.

“You like it that much?”

“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”

You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout. 

“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”

“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”

You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight. 

Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length. 

The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” he whispers. 

You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep. 

You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length. 

“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”

You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”

“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”

“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face. 

The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better. 

You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.

You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him. 

“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls. 

He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically. 

You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”

Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”

He growled as he pulled you closer.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”

He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.

After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.

“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.

“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”

“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”

You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”

Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”

You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”

He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”

You giggle and swing your feet on the way.

After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time. 

You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”

“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”

You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it. 

It was all too much. 

First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message. 

Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.

“Miguel!”

“Hm? Talk to me.”

“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.

“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”

You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper. 

“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”

That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.

“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”

Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you. 

You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised. 

“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”

“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.

“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”

Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.

“What? You should put your shirt on!”

“That’s not what you said when you-”

“Hush and go get the aloe.”

Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”

Life was wonderfully sweet.

With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[laudofthedeep]

Them

Permian Zoo by Lorenzo Colangeli

[pholla-jm]

Heir

IMAGINE: HEIR ~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: sukuna is a bit ooc. fem!reader. not proof read. set in the heian era. true form sukuna. ***************

If someone were to tell Sukuna that in some years that he would have a wife, he would laugh at them… and then kill them. 

But here he was, thinking about how his beautiful wife looked with a small bump on her tummy. It’s all he could think about really. Ever since he found out his wife is pregnant, his view of the world changed. 

Sure, he still thinks that humans were lowly disgusting vile, but the world seemed like a better place with you and his future child in it. 

His every day activities seemed a little less fun now, and all he thought about was getting back home to his wife. 

After a day full of people worshiping him and some killing, he made his way back to his castle. Where his wife should be patiently waiting for him. 

******** 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hear the deep voice of your husband call out causing you to jump a little. 

He had found you in a different room. It was bare at first, but you were starting to add things to the room. 

You were working on a traditional crib for the baby, having different silks laid out in front of you to choose. 

It was a bit early to start getting ready for the baby, but you were too excited.

You turn to look at him. He towered over you, with his four arms crossed as he looked at you with a disappointed look. 

“I just want to make sure that the baby’s room is going to be perfect.” You say turning back to the silks. 

Sukuna hums, sitting down next to you while observing the objects in front of you. 

“How long have you been doing this?” You shrug, “not that long.” 

“You could always have the servants do this, you know? You shouldn’t be working so hard.” 

“Yeah, I know. I just feel like if I do this myself, it feels more special.” 

Sukuna breathes out a happy breath, leaning his chin on one of his fists. He knew that you would make a great mother. Someone that is nurturing, and he knows that his future son will be loved and taken care of. 

“Still, you should be taking care of yourself. It’s important that you and our son are completely healthy.” 

You perk up hearing the word ‘son’. “Son? It’s a bit too early to know the gender.” 

Sukuna just smirks, eyeing you up and down. “Trust me, I know it’s going to be a boy.” You laugh, “oh yeah? How so?”

He points at your belly, “It’s lower. A low stomach means it’s going to be a boy.” 

Your eyes widen and you look away from him in disbelief. “Where did you even hear that? I didn’t know you believed in old wives tales anyway.” 

“It’s not an old wives tale if it’s the current talk.” “The current talk? What, are you gossiping with the local ladies now?” You laugh at the idea of Sukuna gossiping causing him to frown. “Whatever woman. What they say is true.” “Okay, we’ll see.” 

"I don't want you working on this room by yourself anymore. I have to be here to help you, okay?" You nod your head, a bit happy that Sukuna came up with a quick compromise. "Sound good to me. You can do all the heavy lifting."

Sukuna nods, then points at one of the silks that are laid out in front of you. It was a darker colored one, something that you knew he would like. “This one. It’ll be great for our son.” 

You decide not to comment on the son thing again. With a smile, you pick it out and put it to the side.

Pushing your hands on the ground, you start to get up from the ground. “What are you doing?” “I have to use the bathroom.” You say. However, Sukuna gets up faster than you. He gently picks you up, carrying you bridal style. “I can walk by myself.” You tell him with a small smile. 

You appreciate that Sukuna doted on you like this, but you don’t know how long you would be able to babied like this. 

“When I’m around, you’re not doing a single thing. You understand?” 

With a content sigh, you relax in his arms. Head resting on his shoulder, hearing the faint sound of his heartbeat.

“Yes, my beloved, I understand.”

[theresascove]

୧ ‧₊˚⋅ the nerd at the aquarium

🪼 aquarium worker!ellie williams x f!reader

you take your nephew to your city’s aquarium where you met her crouched next to your nephew after having run off in excitement

tw: not proofread, fluff, strangers to lovers, loser!ellie, modern!au, first kiss, holding hands

wc ✎ 1.3k • MASTERLIST • next part

Your sister handed him—your nephew—over, mouthing a thank you before leaving out the front door—heading into the car with her husband. With a four day trip, they needed someone to watch over their son. It was an easy set up, so you agreed and here you are now—your nephew held in your hands. He’s just over four years old, and honestly is really easy to babysit.

You set him down on the floor, crouching to hold onto his hands—eyes set on his, “hey, I got a fun plan for us today. Wanna hear?”

He was immediately a fan of the idea, no shocker there. Eyes sparkling at the idea of seeing the animals there. For you, it would be a field day—enjoying seeing the animals and spending time with him before coming back for bed. Your sister gave you money to use however you wish. The first payment was the entry tickets.

He had a grin on his face from where he sat in the backseat, feet kicking as he asked all sorts of questions. Unfortunately you only knew the answer to like three of them. You helped him out, walking with him towards the entrance where the spell of fish hit the both of you hard. His little nose scrunched and you were lying if you said yours didn’t either.

“Damn this smell,” you whisper, reaching into your bag for the tickets you printed earlier.

“Damn!”

“No,” you point at him, “nonono, don’t say that—especially around your mom.”

He moved on the second he saw what was behind the two front doors. If it weren’t for your hand holding onto his, he would’ve had ran away for sure.

“Oh my—yes I know but we gotta scan these tickets first, or else we’re like trespassing or some shit.”

“Shit?”

You smiled to the lady who scanned your tickets, avoiding the pointed look she gave you. It was fine.

“Don’t say that,” you walk him through, goosebumps appearing from the chill in the air once you were inside. The smell got worse, twenty times worse—but it was gorgeous inside. Dark and blue, light sea sounds playing from the speakers above. Your nephew was having a field day, jumping and dragging you towards the first thing.

“Buddy, buddy—that’s a cut out. We have to go up the stairs, can you come climb these with me?”

He does, but instead he jumps up each one. The start to the exhibits were general fish, smaller circular exhibits. He was captured by the sights, eyes darting around at each fish swimming by. You sit down to his height, looking at the exhibit before looking to him, “what fish is your favorite?”

“Nemo.”

Ah yeah, there lied the orange and black fish—swimming towards the bottom. He quickly moved onto the next, little feet moving fast and helping him reach the jellyfish. He kept putting his nose on each glass, and each time you reached a finger out to push him back just a little.

About forty minutes in, and what you had hoped wouldn’t happen did happen. It’s bound to—with an attention span so short and even shorter legs that keep him hidden in the crowds. He was lost. One second he was standing beside you, the next he ran back and through a gathered crowd.

“Shit,” you curse, spinning to stand and run in the direction he went. You shoved a little too roughly at a few people, but it was worth it to you in your mind. The calm orchestra music over the speakers was the opposite of how you felt, heart racing in your chest.

Turns out he thought each orange and black fish was a Nemo fish—because there he stood at another exhibit, staring at a larger orange fish. As you got closer, you saw the other figure beside him. Her eyes were just as bright as his, full of passion. Her hair was tied back, half-in-half—leaving bangs to hang in her face.

“Nemo,” he exclaimed, looking back to her.

She points lower, “that’s Nemo, but that—he’s a Butterflyfish.”

“Butterfly.”

Her attention shifts to you as you get closer, the light reflecting off the room brings attention to the details on her face—and wow…

“He yours?”

“Yes,” you back up, “well not mine, he’s my sister’s but I’m babysitting him, so mine sorta yeah.”

She has a comedic expression after listening to your terrible story, “uh huh, okay.”

It goes quiet for a second, filled with awkward silence. You sigh, “thank you for, keeping him here.”

She stands, and it brings attention to the name tag on her shirt, “no worries.”

“Oh shit you work here?”

“Shit!”

Your nephew repeats and, “Ellie,” as her name tag reads looks to you with the same pointed look the ticket scanning employee did. You wave her off.

“Well I wonder where he learned that.”

You cross your arms, “his mother.”

He gives you out, turning to point at you. Ellie huffs, “wow turns out he’s not on your side, a true opp.”

You grab a hold of his hand, crouching down again and resting your knees against the small step set in front of the aquarium for the kids.

“How long have you worked here?”

“Four years.”

“Damn, that’s a long—“

“Damn!”

Ellie laughs, and holy hell it’s glorious. You point at your nephew again, “please I beg don’t say that around your mom. It was a slip of the tongue.”

“How long is she gone?”

You shrug, “like four days, we’ll see.”

She hums, reaching back into her pocket, “well I have to go lead this like tour. It was nice to meet you both—but I gtg.”

It definitely wasn’t a coincidence when you showed up to the same aquarium a day later. There was a special guest exhibit too, you had a reason. It totally explained the way your eyes darted around looking for someone.

Turns out Ellie was at the exhibit, a stingray one. She was standing inside, explaining something to these parents. She did end up noticing you, eyes lighting up similarly to how they did the other day. Felt good to know she was also looking forward to seeing you again sometime.

“Ellie,” you call, and right after your nephew did.

“Elsa!”

You pick him up, “he’s leaning. How’s your shift?”

“It’s going, I’m glad to work a different section. Why’re you back?”

For you..?

“For the new exhibit, plus the discount—he loves this place too, it’s just fun.”

She nods, fidgeting with her name tag on her shit. For some reason everything in you just begged to be honest with her. Seems like she had the same idea, lips moving to speak just as you did.

“No you go,” you sound, adjusting your nephew on your hip.

“I, wow fuck. This is unprofessional as shit, but can I get your number?”

You smile and it brightens her face again, a shy grin appearing on hers.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

Turns out you’d be visiting the aquarium a lot more from now on. Your nephew tagged along often, but there were days you went alone—sitting in the larger exhibits after hours, Ellie rambling about random information on the animals swimming around behind the giant glass.

Took some time, but eventually your pinkies would connect—sliding to touch one another. Her rambling would eventually slow and her breathing would even out when she looked to see how you were looking at her.

She exhales, “what?”

“Nothing,” you say behind a smile, voice quieter than a whisper, “just want to kiss you.”

Her eyes flicker down, chest rising quicker as her mind fills with nerves of what’s to come. You’re doing the same, eyes focused on her as you inch closer. The sting music playing in the back growing louder when your lips connect. When they connect again, her fingers moves to encase yours, thumb rubbing softly over the back of your hand.

[cherriesformatt]

vlog day || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: you said yes to being in the vlog while spending time with ur best friends and your boyfriend.

warnings: none

word count: 1,1k

a/n: have a good day ily

“Are you filming already?” I asked sitting at the table and putting stuff in my purse.

I was cleaning it because I couldn’t find my favorite lipstick anywhere.

“Yes, you said it’s okay if we film the vlog with you right?” Nick asked me and I nodded.

“Yes, yes look guys!” I looked at the camera and brought a gift bag closer to me.

“So I said few days back that I wasn’t feeling that good lately like you know mentally because I had a lot of work and stress. I came in here this morning and this was on the table with my name on it” I showed the bag.

“Look what Chris and Nick got me” I laughed showing the camera the coffee cup with triplets photos on it.

“We know you love coffee so… you know you can look every morning at people who brings you joy in your life” Nick laughed behind the camera.

“Yes and you know what’s the funniest part? They only put one photo of Matt” I said and stood up when I saw Chris coming up with the new Dr Pepper.

“It’s finally here people let’s try it” he said.

“He is constantly talking about it let’s just get over it” I whispered to the camera.

“I found your lipstick honey… oh your filming already?” Matt came from his room.

“Aww Matt you’re not beating lover boy allegations ever again” Chris laughed at him but Matt only rolled his eyes and gave me the lipstick.

“Thank you Matt” I smiled and wanted to peck his lips but I didn’t.

I didn’t want to push that I was already in the vlog. But I was exited and I said yes because us four actually didn’t spent time together for a long time now. So I was excited for some fun with my boyfriend and his brothers.

“Ladies first….”Chris gave me the can.

“Okay because if I die it’s on you…” I say and I took a sip.

It wasn’t bad but also it wasn’t my favorite.

“Meh… it’s okay but I think you and Nick will like it” I gave it back to Chris.

He made his brothers try and they had a talk about it while I went to put my converse on.

When we got into the car I sat in the back with Nick so Chris could be in front of the camera.

“So we don’t know where we’re going yet” Chris said to the camera and we all looked at it surprised it’s on.

“What? I thought we can decide on camera…” he said.

“Let’s go to Melrose I want Happy Ice” Nick said and I clapped my hands.

“Yes! Happy Ice and pizza I’m in” I said and buckled my sit belt.

We were driving with Chris talking all the time and Matt crying about every dog we pass.

“When you explain something is impossible to know what you’re talking about… it’s like I spy game with 5 years old” I told Chris.

“Well I wanted to edge on…”He started.

“Oh you want us to edge you a little? Okay…”Matt said and I gasped.

“Matthew….”I hit his arm playfully.

“Don’t even start y/n” he said and looked at me in the mirror and I winked at him.

“Anyways… how much longer? I need to peepee” I said looking at maps.

“Oh my god you’re worst than Chris sometimes babe” Matt said.

I looked at him and laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“Guys.. that’s what y/n always does. 20 minutes before we left she said she needs to pee but instead going to the bathroom she did like 100 other things and she forgot to go and its like that every time we go out” Matt said.

“Woow sir what is this? Telling each other icks or what?” Nick asked looking at us.

“I would say about her hair in the bathroom everywhere” Matt added.

“Fair enough… I would say about your hair in the sink after you shave and we would be even” I laughed.

“And I would say your underwear under my couch when you guys forget you don’t live alone” Nick said and I covered my mouth with my hand.

“Shut up it was once” I said.

“Nah like three times” Chris said and I covered my whole face with my hands.

“We not putting this in the video and stop making her uncomfortable” Matt laughed.

“We were uncomfortable!” Nick yelled.

“Okay done with my sex life let’s talk about the weather or about how ugly is this persons outfit” I said when we stopped on red.

“Omg but look they are so cute having photo shoot together” Nick said and I smiled.

“Awww look how he’s holding her stuff for her” I said.

When we got to the pizza place I ordered for us and looked at the boys filming in the corner.

“Matt please don’t do that it actually sends shivers down my spine “I told him looking at him opening the water bottle with his teeth.

“Here I need to go to the bathroom” I gave him order numer and went into the toilet.

We ate in the car talking shit about people and than we got to the happy ice and I was holding the camera.

“Guys if he won’t take cherry for me I’m going to break up with him. I told him he needs to guess what I want” I whispered to the camera.

“Here I bought cherry flavored for you?” He came up to me with the desert and I smiled.

“Ah still need that anniversary gift then” I said to the camera when Matt took it from me and looked at me confused but I only smiled at him.

We walked around while we ate and then we came back to the car. While we were driving I saw a very handsome guy and me an Nick made a funny face in the same time looking after him.

“This guy was so hot!!” Nick yelled and I gave him high 5.

“ I knew you’re going to say that!” Chris said.

“y/n I’m not talking to you anymore” Matt said and I made a sad face.

“You love me Matty he was like 4 you are a 10” I said and he smiled.

“So technically you think I’m a 10?” Chris asked.

“Well yes but then you open your mouth” I said and everyone laughed.

When we came home I took my shoes off and sat down on the couch when boys finished up the video.

“Okay we’re done… that was fun thanks for coming with us and filming” nick said and he sat down next to me.

“I had fun too! I hope everyone is not going to kill me for being in the video” I said.

“They’re going to love you” he said and I smiled.

“Movie night?” Matt asked from the kitchen.

“Movie night!” I said happily.

He smiled and me and I hugged a pillow close to me. I was so relaxed after spending day with them. Nick was right. They were my favorite humans in the whole world.

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

[seresinhangmanjake]

Defending His Lady

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: Both Feyd and your son take issue with the people of Giedi Prime not accepting you as their Lady. Part of the His series

Notes/Warnings: Based on a request. It's a little bit different. Typos, probably.

Words: 1250

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Years ago, when you imagined your future, it wasn’t this. It wasn’t on this planet. It wasn’t with the husband and child you have. It wasn’t with the title you obtained from your marriage. You imagined light glowing through an open home, frilly gowns, a stuffy Lord, and a daughter who would be treated like a princess. It wasn’t necessarily what you wanted for your future, but it was what was likeliest to be. You’d be a foreign Lady on a new planet, yet respected just as much as their home-grown Lord.

You learned rather quickly that that’s not always how it works. And while you wouldn’t trade the life you have—not your husband, not your son—for anything the universe could offer, you can’t deny the difficulties that come with being the wife and mother of the Harkonnen line of Giedi Prime. 

The people wanted Feyd to marry one of their own, certainly not the concubine their na-Baron once took. They wanted purity. To them, you are tainted blood, and despite your status on this planet, many cannot resist treating you like a parasite. In the five years that have passed, you’ve taken the poor treatment and whispered words with as much grace as you can, knowing Feyd is always there to end the lives of those who step out of bounds, but it’s harder to ignore now that Fionn is no longer a baby.

Your son is growing. His ears catch more than you’d like. He notices how his father reacts to the harsh words directed at you and how he never sees the people who speak them ever again. He’s gathering the pieces that his mother is often disrespected, and that is the last thing you want.

—

“He sees it,” you tell your husband as you slip into your nightgown.

“He doesn’t see it,” Feyd says, pulling back the top layer of covers on the bed and settling under the sheets. When he reaches out his hand, you snuggle into his embrace. His arms are snug around you. His lips press a kiss to your hairline. “You worry too much.”

You hold in your huff of frustration. “I do not. He asked me as I put him to bed if bad people are hurting me and if that’s why Daddy keeps making them disappear.” Feyd pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed. You nod. “He sees it.”

Feyd exhales heavily through his nose. As a father, he’s been diligent, so very careful with how he leads his son; a surprisingly delicate guidance—something he didn’t have growing up. What started from Feyd’s fear of your son being too much like him died as the boy showed only love, but Feyd has continued his intricate training. He has trained so that even at the age of four, Fionn is vigilant, particular with his words, and practical in his choices. He trains so that outside factors are not as influential. He trains so the boy can think for himself. And it shouldn’t be a shock that he notices what happens in his own home. 

“It’s time he understands then,” Feyd says.

Your eyes go wide and you let out a light gasp. “Feyd, he’s four.”

“There’s no point in hiding what happens to them if he’s already curious. He’s as stubborn as you are,” he tells you. “And he’s old enough.”

—

“Mommy, where are we going?” Fionn asks, his little hand tugging on yours to get your attention. 

You take a deep breath, sucking in the dank air that leads to prisoner cells. You’re not sure how this is going to go, but you agreed and you need to let it play out. “Daddy wants to show you something.”

Fionn’s head turns to Feyd. “Is it a bad man, Daddy?”

Feyd pauses halfway down the hall and crouches in front of his son. You release Fionn’s hand so he can fully face his father. 

“Yes,” he says. “It’s a bad man.”

“He hurt Mommy?”

“Some of our guards heard him talking about your mother. He said rude things, called her names. He wished for harm to come to her.”

Fionn makes a soft noise of surprise. Name-calling—he considers that one of the worst of crimes, knowing what it got him when he insulted the little Lady of House Kenric. 

“But why?” he asks. 

“It doesn’t matter why,” Feyd says. “What matters is that we protect the ones we love, yes?”

“Yes,” Fionn agrees with a sharp nod.

Feyd looks up at you, silently commanding that you stay here. The last time you entered a cell to face the one who insulted you, more abuse was hurled at you until it tapped into a well of internal shame. It took you three days to shake that off, all the while your husband begging for you to return to your natural state of uncaring. 

You’ve always cared though, to some degree. It doesn’t matter that they like you so much as it matters that you’re not a stain on Feyd’s reputation. After all, he’s the Baron now, and one day, his son will be. If the people of Giedi Prime cannot forget where you come from, you worry they will never forgive Feyd, and worse, that they will never accept Fionn as their ruler. 

Feyd takes your boy’s hand once again and leads him the rest of the way. They stop at the correct cell and when a guard turns a key, they head inside. 

Inching your way down the hall, you halt just outside of it. Your finger goes to your lips to ensure the guard does not give you away, and with your back to the stone wall, you hear Fionn.

“He did it?”

The man is silent, likely knocked unconscious from Feyd’s earlier visit. You suppose he’ll be awake soon enough. 

“Yes,” Feyd tells him, his voice dropping an octave, “He did.”

“Did he apologize? He should apologize to Mommy.”

Feyd releases a sigh. His son is much more diplomatic than himself. But your husband can’t fairly be bothered. That’s the point of his parenting: to raise a better Baron than both he and his uncle have ever been. 

“Son, we do not let men like this apologize. We do not let them near your mother.”

“Oh.”

“So what do you think we do with them?”

Fionn hums, and it’s so much like his father that it’s as if he has stood on the sidelines of every death your husband has executed. The way Feyd hums as he plays with his victims. A fake hum of consideration, of contemplation. What should I do with them? How should they leave this world? Questions he pretends to ask as if he hasn’t planned their deaths out from the moment he was informed of the crime. And that’s the hum your son gives. He hums like a natural monster in the making. You wouldn’t be surprised if the boy is tapping his finger against his chin as he thinks. 

You feel an ounce of pride. There’s more to him than a kind heart, lovely as that heart is. He will be a fearsome Baron, but one that will show mercy when mercy is fit. However, here, now, mercy is not fit, and his father has made that clear.

“Would you like the first stab?” Feyd asks. “Top of thigh.”

The shing of metal scraping against Feyd’s sheath fills the space. A small blade. Good for Fionn’s hand.

“Which thigh, Daddy?”

Feyd chuckles. “You choose.”

[ramirezmindset]

ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ.

ᴛʏʟᴇʀ ᴏᴡᴇɴs x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: yourself and tyler go way back, further than you'd like to admit, but after a brutal end, it's been years since you've spoken. until one night when your roommate brings him home.

→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANNNNGGSSSSTTTT, talks of fighting and yelling, reader and tyler having history, use of feminine pronouns and description, awkward asl atmosphere, sexual implication, longing, flashbacks will be in italics. ↳ wc: 4671 (not sorry)

→ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this came to me when i was sat on the couch with MY roommates hahahaahah - requests are open!

↳ ❝ [ i shouldn't have called, cause we shouldn't speak. you do make me hard, but she makes me weak - save all the jokes you're gonna make, while i see how much drink i can take. then be my mistake ] ❞

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"Y/N, Emmie just texted me, she's found a male at the bar and he's coming back here" Your roommate Caroline slaps a hand over her mouth, biting back a laugh as you shake your head and chuckle. "I knew we should've joined her, but for some reason you refuse to go into that bar!"

"Carol, you know why I don't go there!" You scoff back, a playful smile on your face. You put the teaspoon in the sink and take a sip of the tea you just made, pushing a mug over the kitchen island to where Caroline sits. "I know that he tends to go there a lot and I just- I don't really want to be bumping into him and getting all weird and sad when I'm supposed to be having fun with my best girls"

"Yeah, yeah, Tyler this, Tyler that" You give her a disapproving look. "Ok, I'm sorry, that was rude. But I'm serious, Y/N, it's been four years. We never even met the guy, or even saw a photo! Surely if you were that spent on keeping him locked up in that little brain of yours for your eyes only, it can't have been that serious?"

"Oh, it was serious!" You defend, laughing and holding up your arms in mock offence. Carol wraps the blanket tighter around herself and leads you towards the couch, settling with her cup of tea, urging you to sit in front of her. "It was on and off like a strobe light, but I was crazy about him. And as far as I know, he was crazy about me. We just didn't mesh well. I mean, we had been together since we were fifteen, we grew out of each other, I guess"

"But you still have a photo of him in your wallet?" Your eyes widen at this statement, your face growing pale. "Relax, girl, I went in there to put your Costco card back and I saw a photo of some guy from the back. I assume it was him anyway and not some secret guy you've been hiding from us"

You bury your face in your hands in embarrassment, chuckling lowly to yourself. "That's Tyler alright"

"Y/N/N, will you just get in the truck?" Tyler said, holding his hand out for you to take. "Please?" You could never resist those puppy dog eyes, the one's you fell in love with all those years ago.

You smile at him, taking his hand and letting him lead you down the stairs of the porch towards his beat up old truck. Opening the door for you, he helps you climb in, a smile plastered across both your faces.

"Ty, where are you taking me?" You laugh, shaking your head at him as he just winks and shuts the door behind him, walking round the truck to slide into the drivers side.

"Now what would I gain from ruining the surprise, hm?" He turned the keys in the ignition and sped off down the dirt track of your parent's ranch, but instead of turning off onto the freeway, he heads in a different direction.

Deciding not to question him, you sigh and lean back into the headrest, staring at his side profile as he concentrates on the road. The furrow of his eyebrows, the clench in his jaw when he hits a particularly rocky piece of track, the slight smirk that flicks at the corner of his mouth when a song he likes plays on the radio.

"What are you staring at, pretty lady?" He jokes, glancing over at you and placing a hand on your thigh. "Something got your attention, hm?"

"Just my gorgeous boyfriend" You smile once again, interlocking your fingers with his hand that rests on your leg. "Thinking about how lucky I am to have such a beautiful man that loves me and drives me around and surprises me and buys me flowers and doesn't let me spend a dime."

"Yeah, you are pretty lucky" You both erupt into a fit of laughter as the truck pulls to a stop. He takes his hand off your thigh to take the keys out of the ignition and hops out the truck to open your door. "Here we are"

You look around you, confusion etching your features. "Tyler, this is the woods" He tuts at you.

"I knew you would say that. Just come with me" He takes your hand, leading you into the trees down a makeshift trail that's been made through hikers over the years. "You maybe know about this place, you maybe don't. I'm hoping don't"

You're walking for about 15 minutes before he tells you to close your eyes, grabbing your other hand to help you balance and show you the way. "Tyler, I am going to die out here!" You joke as you stumble over what feels like a branch.

"Relax, oh my Christ!" He laughs back, he pulls you into a stop as you find your feet on somewhat smooth ground. "Ok, keep your eyes closed. No peeking!" He lets go of both your hands and you feel him walk away, the crunch of his feet getting slightly further away before coming to a stop.

You take a deep breath, you arms still held out to the side slightly to keep your balance on the unfamiliar terrain.

"Ok, open" You open your eyes to find yourself on a wide cliffside at the edge of the woods, a picnic blanket sprawled out a few feet away from you where Tyler stood, and a basket full of what looks like all your favourite foods. A bottle of wine and two glasses sit comfortably on the blanket, and the city lights from below you glittered as the sun set below the peaks of the mountains miles away.

"Tyler, this is-" You place a hand on your heart, and you move your eyes to meet his, slowly walking towards where he was standing. "Tyler, this is incredible" You put your arm around his waist, pulling him in closely as you admire the intricacy of the set up. He places a kiss to your temple.

"I thought considering I'm leaving tomorrow for that storm, we could have a nice final date" He smiles, letting you go to sit down on the blanket.

"Nice?!" You exclaim, feigning offence. "Tyler, this is more than nice. This is perfect"

"Only the best for my girl" He winks, reaching for the wine and the corkscrew. "Now are you gonna sit down and enjoy this picnic with me, or are you gonna stand there staring?" He jokes again, fiddling about with the wine.

Before he could pester you again, you reach into your bag for your polaroid camera, an old thing Tyler got you for your seventeenth birthday that travels in your bag with you everywhere. Snapping a photo of him from behind, sat on the picnic blanket, the sun creating a silhouette of his frame, and all you could think in the moment was how beautiful he was, and how beautiful this could be.

"Earth to Y/N!" Caroline snaps her fingers from the couch opposite you. You flick back to reality, shaking your head and sheepishly apologising. "You OK?"

"Yeah!" You reply a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a bit tired"

"Do you mean tired or Tyler?" Caroline giggles as you half-heartedly fling a throw pillow in her direction. "Sorry, sorry! But seriously girl, it's been this long and he's still on your mind? He must've had you whipped, you haven't even been on a date since!"

"Yes I have!" You defend, placing your tea down on the coffee table and crossing your legs under your blanket.

"Fucking some guy on the gross sinks of the club handicap stall is not a date" She got you there. Suddenly, you hear the front door open, and Emmie's laughter echo around the hallway. "Christ, here she comes" Caroline sits up on the couch and fixes her hair, as if Emmie and her mystery man would come in the room anyway.

You were proven extremely wrong when the door is pushed open and your second roommate strolls in, three beers in hand. She throws one at you and one at Caroline, using her foot to keep the door open.

"I come bearing gifts!" Emmie exclaims, holding her own beer in her hands as you try biting the lid off the beer open. "We're gonna chill in here for a bit with you guys, Tyler's just taking his shoes off"

"Who?!" Caroline exclaims, as you choke on your own breath. "Who is gonna chill in here for a bit?" She looks between the two of you as you scramble on the couch to find the missing beer cap.

Confusion etches across Emmie's face, staring at you as you frantically sit back up, pushing your glasses back up your nose. "Oh shit!" She exclaims, her eyes widening in realisation. "Oh shit!"

"Oh shit what?" that all to familiar voice asks from behind her as he strolls into the living room, making eye contact with Caroline before turning towards you. His eyes grow wide, his hands immediately reaching to take his hat off and hold it to his chest. The hat that you bought him. That stupid, stupid hat that you spent a stupid, stupid amount of money on, but somehow all seemed worth it to see that stupid, stupid smile on his stupid, stupid face.

It seemed like forever that he was staring into you before Caroline broke the silence by clearing her throat. "Um, it's nice to meet you, Tyler. How are you, Tyler? What's going on, Tyler?" She raises her eyebrows at him, as you shoot her a glare.

"Uh- yeah, I'm good, you must be Caroline" He finally tears his eyes away from you to spare an awkward, tight-lipped smile. A familiar gut-wrenching embarrassment fills your body as you look down at your lap as it hits you that your ex-boyfriend is in your apartment, with the intention of fucking your best friend, and you're sat on the couch in your pyjama's drinking tea at 10pm on a Saturday night.

Emmie awkwardly sits on the couch next to Caroline, slipping her shoes off and mouthing a 'Sorry', reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone.

I'm so sorry, she texts you. I had no idea that was the Tyler, I'm gonna ask him to leave, tell him I don't feel well. I'm so sorry

You reply: you don't have to do that, i'm just gonna take myself off to bed

No this is my mess, Emmie's next text reads. I'll sort it all out.

Tyler's still standing awkwardly in the doorway as you launch yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen, pouring your beer down the sink out of pure humiliation. He still wore the same cologne, you could smell the sandalwood on his skin as you pushed past him, his warm flesh brushing against the bare skin of your arm. He still had that same look in his eyes all those years ago when he looked at you, that one of adoration.

You rub your eyes and look out the kitchen window of your apartment at the city lights, the rain pattering slowly against the glass panes as you sigh and lean your back against the counter. It was almost like mother nature was mocking you, laughing in your face as the memories of your last meeting with Tyler flooded your mind.

"Baby, just come back inside, we can talk!" He bellowed from his porch. "It's storming, Y/N, just come inside!"

You continue down his front path as the rain and hail slammed on the pavement. You didn't know what you were doing, your house was a forty-five minute walk from Tyler's place, but you knew you'd regret it if you gave in. Suddenly, his hand grabbed your bicep from behind, twisting you around. He saw your bloodshot eyes and puffy lips and immediately his features softened.

"Darlin', I'm sorry, please just come inside and we can talk it all out" His palm came up to cradle the side of your face, and you had to fight the urge to lean into his warm, tender touch.

"There's nothing to talk about, Tyler" You replied, shaking your head. Another tear rolled down your cheek, unrecognisable as the rain hammered down on your head. "You made your choice, let me make mine"

Tyler's eyebrows furrowed. "My choice? I choose you! I always chose you, I will always choose you!" His hand left your face, falling limp at his side.

"Tell that to Boone" You shook you head. "Tell that to everyone on that stupid fucking tornado chasing team! That's what you'd rather be doing!" He scoffs, wiping a hand down his face. "What? It's true! All I've done for the last decade is support you, I let you go off and do whatever it is you do in that stupid truck, I supported you in college when you didn't have a clue what you were gonna do with your life, I came with you on chases even though I fucking hate thunder, and I hate the danger, I do everything for you! And what do I get?"

"You get to be with me!" He cut you off, you were both yelling now, drawing attention from the neighbours as lights in the houses around you slowly turned on. "Isn't that enough? Am I not enough?"

"Don't you dare turn this on me!" You turn your back on him, wiping your face. You're too far in to let him see you cry. "Tyler, of course you're enough. I'm in love with you, I have been for ten years, but all I do in this relationship is hurt. I don't feel loved, I feel like you're not satisfied until you've got your adrenaline fix on some tornado hundreds of miles away from you. Am I supposed to sit on the porch knitting, waiting for you to show back up? God forbid my boyfriend cares about me and what I want!"

"If that's how you feel, maybe we shouldn't be together!" He exclaims, his hands flying into the air as the rain beats down harder and harder.

"Maybe we shouldn't!" Your shoulders slump as you stare at him, the hurt in his eyes clouding over as any ounce of hope he had in his body to remedy this is blown away by the wind and washed away by the rain. "We're not fifteen anymore, Tyler. I can't keep doing this, I can't keep hoping and praying that you'll come back to me alive. I just can't."

"Hey" Emmie's voice sounds behind you. You turn your head towards the kitchen door, where she's shutting it behind her. "I told Tyler I wasn't feeling well, and if I'm honest, he couldn't get out of here fast enough" She awkwardly chuckles and walks over to you, giving you a hug. "I'm so sorry, Y/N/N, I didn't know that was your Tyler. I would've never have spoken to him, let alone brought him home if I knew-"

"Emmie, relax" You reply, a dry laugh leaving your throat. "It's fine, there's no need to apologise. I was just shocked to see him, that's all. It's okay, I'm okay, I promise."

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You climb out of the cab, Caroline and Emmie hot on your tail as the three of you link arms and giggle as you stumble towards the bar. The three bottles of wine you had in the refrigerator went down a treat as Emmie and Caroline coaxed you into drinking with them, and you let them convince you going to the bar that Tyler frequented was a fabulous use of your time.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with him, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't all you thought about. The look on his face, the smell of his skin and that goddamned hat that he still refused to part with all these years later.

You'd spent the majority of the past few weeks reminiscing on the relationship, thinking about what everything was and what it could've grown into. Where would you be today? On your own ranch, like your parents, but bigger, and would you finally have gotten that ring, maybe a couple of kids? Even today, when you pictured your future, it was always with him by your side.

The atmosphere in the bar was lively, music blasting out of the jukebox as you had to elbow your way to the bar for a drink. Your eyes take a scan of the room, but he wasn't in sight. A twang of disappointment struck you, as if you would've approached him anyway.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asks, but before you could open your mouth, someone responds for you.

"Black label, on the rocks" Tyler slides up beside you, the slight redness in his eyes indicating he was just as buzzed as you were. "Hey" He rests his elbow on the bar, passing the bartender his card and shooting you a smile.

He looked somewhat the same, his shoulders were broader and his smile no longer reached his eyes, but he was still your Tyler. The mischievous glint in his eye was gone, and he had grown some stubble, even with all the differences he was still just as charming as he was all those years ago.

"Hi" you reply, taking your drink from his hand and throwing it all down.

"Woah, slow down there, cowgirl" He laughed, his old nickname for you making shivers run up your spine. You glanced over your shoulder to find Emmie and Caroline, but they had scuttled off to a dark corner of the bar, no doubt to watch this interaction.

You had never felt more awkward in your life. All of a sudden the top you thought was cute three hours ago is too much for the atmosphere you're in, and your makeup is too perfect to be ruined by the tears that would inevitably fall within the next fifteen minutes.

Tyler nods his head towards the door, taking your hand delicately in his as he led you to the deck of the bar. Sparks shot up your arm and through your body at his gentle touch, his grasp far from firm, as if you were glass that would shatter. You follow him out and perch at an empty table overlooking the street.

"How are you?" He asked, looking at you, as if he could see inside your brain. You stare back, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm fine" You reply, nervously licking your lips and twiddling your fingers on your lap. This is so fucking awkward.

He gives you a knowing look. "No, you're not" He looks away from you and wipes his face with his hand, something he always did to stop himself from crying. "I know you're not, because I haven't been fine since we broke up. And we're cut from the same cloth, you and me, we've been interlinked since we met"

You were sat on the back porch of your parents ranch. It was a sweltering summers day, sweat licking at your skin as you shifted uncomfortably in the deck chair. Your friend Hannah was over, bringing a bottle of some sort of dark liquor with her as she sat next to you, pouring you both another glass.

"Say, when is your brother gonna be home?" She smirked at you as you playfully swatted her arm. "What!? He's hot!"

"Hannah, behave!" You laughed. "But it should be any minute now" You winked at her, reaching for your glass. Usually you wouldn't condone any of your friends getting with your twin brother, but Hannah had liked him for years and you kind of just wanted her to shut up.

As if on cue, the french doors of the patio slid open and your brother walked onto the porch, grabbing Hannah's glass and downing whatever concoction she had made for herself. She playfully giggled, and the sight made you sick to your stomach, but you laughed along anyway.

"Hello, Hannah" Your brother gave her her glass back before turning to you and grimacing. "Hello....thing...."

"Hello, ugly" you responded, pulling your sunglasses on top of your head and sitting up properly to face him. "Why did you have to come out here and ruin my time with my friend?"

"Um, it's hot, you fucking idiot, and the AC is broken, so Tyler and I are gonna chill out here. I see you have liquor, so we're gonna be enjoying that just as much as you are" He pulled up a chair opposite Hannah, so close to her that their knees touched. You wished he'd swallow his pride and make the first move, because you knew damn well Hannah wouldn't.

"Tyler?" Hannah asked, her eyebrows furrowing. "Who's Tyler?"

"I am" he said from behind you, a shadow was cast over your face as he moved to stand next to you. You looked up, and there he was, the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and probably would ever see. "And you must be Y/N?" You nodded. "I've heard a lot about you"

"Good things I hope" You joke, a laugh bubbling out your throat as your brother clears his throat. "But if they're coming from my brother, I can't imagine it's anything but slander"

You all erupt into laughter, and that was it. After that day, Tyler never left your side.

You lean back into your chair, avoiding eye contact with Tyler. He wasn't lying, you two were eerily similar, and he'd always been the one person, aside from your brother, who could read you like a book. There was no denying your souls were hand crafted for each other.

"How's your brother?" He asks, a lame attempt at conversation.

"I thought you would know" You turned to look at him. "He married Hannah a few months ago. I was half expecting to see you there"

Tyler shook his head. "Corey hasn't spoken to me since we broke up. I think he's angry I broke his sister's heart"

Your lips form a tight line. "What do you want from me Tyler? Have you dragged me out here away from my friends to make pointless small talk or did you have anything of value to say to me?"

"Is it so wrong to want to talk to you?" He asks again, hurt brushing over his features before he regained composure. You roll your eyes and stand up, making your way back into the bar. Before you could walk in, Caroline runs over and slams the door to the deck shut in front of you, Emmie furiously pointing at Tyler, mouthing "fucking talk to him!"

You sigh in defeat and turn around to see Tyler smiling, shading his eyes from the heat lamp burning down on his skin.

"Guess you have no choice" He joked. "But I can't talk to you knowing your roommates are staring at us"

"Well, what do you propose?" You asked, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. You were not leaving the bar with him.

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You left the bar with him. You found yourself strolling down the street, buying a case of beer from the gas station and suddenly, twenty minutes later, you were sat on the cliffside Tyler took you to years ago, moderately buzzed from the mixture of beer and hard liquor.

"I still carry your photo in my wallet" You admit, looking at him on the other side of the bench. "The one I took of you here, in this exact spot, when you made us a picnic before you left on a chase"

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't done the same thing" He reached into his pocket and pulled a polaroid out of his own wallet. It was crumpled and faded, but you could still make out your own face in the moonlight, smiling up at the camera, eyes squeezed shut with Tyler's hat adorning your head. You laughed to yourself.

You settled into a comfortable silence, the subtle admission of lost love still hanging in the air, weighing down on you.

"Why?" He asked. You looked back at him. "Why did you keep it?"

"Why did you?" You retaliate, raising an eyebrow at him in suspicion.

"Why do you think?" He sighed and shuffled ever so slightly closer to you. "I remember when you broke up with me you told your brother I was the biggest mistake of your life. He came banging my front door down, probably ready to beat me to a pulp. I would've let him. But as soon as he told me that- as soon as he told me that you said I was a mistake, every bit of anger in me just dissipated. I was in love with you, hell, I am in love with you, and all I could do was question how I managed to fuck up so bad that our decade together felt like a mistake to you."

"You were never a mistake, Tyler" You whisper softly, choosing to ignore the fact he just admitted his love for you all these years later. "I was mad, mad that I let go so easily, and it was easier to blame you than admit that I broke up with you over something so- so mundane"

He had moved closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours on the bench as he leant down to put his empty beer bottle on the floor. He sat back up, putting one arm around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. You fit in the crook of his neck like a missing piece of a puzzle, and a satisfied sigh left your lips.

"Tyler?" You say, he hums in response. "You're in love with me?"

His shoulders tense as he sucks in a sharp breath. Maybe you should've continued to ignore it.

"Of course I am" he replies softly, lifting your head up and cupping your jaw. Finally, you lean into his touch, a smile tugging at your lips. "I have been for fourteen years. I could never love anyone like I love you, you're it for me"

You stare at him, allowing yourself to fall deeply into his gaze. His features had considerably softened since you first saw him in the bar. The glint of hope in his eyes had returned, and the crease in his brow has gone. The slow breeze pushed his hair slightly back, and you had to resist the urge to run your hands through his blonde locks.

He was slowly leaning in, and before you knew it, your eyes were fluttering shut as you felt his lips lightly graze yours. His other hand found the other side of your face, cradling you like you were the most precious jewel. Your hand instinctively goes up to hold his wrist, his skin rough against your palm.

"Can I- can I kiss you?" He whisper's against your mouth. You nod.

His lips finally pressed against yours, gentle and full of years of love. He tasted the same as he always did, the distinct flavour of vanilla from his chapstick he carried around in his back pocket. His lips slotted against yours perfectly as your arms made their way around his neck. For the first time in years, you felt at peace.

Tyler reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. "What do you say?" He whispered. "Be my mistake."

[dcxdpdabbles]

I have this idea for a post but I feel like you would do it justice.

Basically, Danny is yeeted through a dimensional portal and reincarnated as the clone son of Tim and Connor(from when Tim cloned Connor during his death). This little shit wakes up after that, when Connor has already been found, as a six year old gremlin with a need for chaos.

Que pranks!

I don’t have much more than that so I will leave this in your capable hands.

-🎃

"Master Bruce, if I have to remind you to fix your tie one more time, Gotham will be without its protecter for many months to come!" Alfred snapped - actually snapped - from where he was attempting to reorganize the entirey of the Emberald Sitting room.

Right now, he moved all the furniture and all the wall directions. He was just adding some tastefully done flower pots to make the place look inviting but also regal.

It had been six hours, and from the looks of it, Alfred had not found the balance he desperately wanted. He started over four times. His patience was all but gone.

Bruce's hands snap to his tie, scrambling to get it set just right. He moves it only slightly to the left - not making much difference - with a nervous smile. Alfred's teeth snap shut with a click, and his eyes blaze with frustrated rage as he rounds the coffee table toward the billionaire.

Bruce looks to be holding back a scream.

Dick winces, sinking into his chair lest the aged Butler turns his ire onto him. He knows why this evening has to be just right. Especially to Alfred, but gosh, he could not handle how terrifying the butler could be.

It's just for one dinner and one evening. Dick tells himself. Once Alfred can finally say he married one of us off, things will return to normal.

"Honestly! If you didn't walk around looking like an unkeept vagabond all the time, maybe there would be a Lady of the House by now!" Alfred sneered at a pale-looking Bruce.

Or maybe Timmy bringing Kon over to announce their engagement means Alfred will try to marry the rest of us off harder. Dick despairs as Bruce endures another tongue-lashing. He wants to go help, but if he moves even an inch from his seat, Alfred might realize Dick is still in the room.

He can't afford to anger the beast any further.

"And you, Master Dick!" Alfred suddenly rounds on Dick, pointing one long finger into his face, with narrowed eyes and the grim reaper at his shoulder. Oh, dear.

Thankfully, that's when the doorbell rings. At once, Alfred's face clears into an excited smile. "They're here! I'll let them in right away; you lads, gather the rest of the family. And remember, we must make a great impression! Tonight is the night we invite Mister Kon into the family!"

The butler doesn't quite skip out of the room, but the bristle walking with a chipper head turning is the close that Dick has ever seen him do.

"I'm so happy for Tim." Bruce mutters,"but I can not handle any more reminders that I haven't had a spouse."

"Tell me about it," Dick sighs, following after his father into the hallway and down to the dining hall. He can distantly hear Alfred opening the door and greeting the two. "A hour ago, he made seven passive agressive reminders that Tamaraneans propse with a dinner and a mock battle. Seven. I mean, how does he even know what Tamaraneans do when courting?"

"It's Alfred." Bruce tells him, taking a seat at the head of the table. Dick sits in the chair to his right as the oldest and First Heir- considering the reply. It makes sense.

Damian, Cass, and Duke walk in, not even a moment later. All are dressed better than any gala Bruce could have dragged them off, too. He is rather impressed that Damian is a red suit that makes even Bruce pale in comparison. Then again, he is the only one besides Alfred who has an eye for such things.

"Has he already proposed, or is he doing it at dinner table and were all supposed to act supirse?" Duke asks while sitting down. "I want to know what kind of face I should have prepared"

"The clone has asked Father for his blessing in his courtship with Timothy. He knew we would have figured out his plans when that blunder. It is no surprise." Damian huffs. Dick knows he's just upset that his big brother is going to get married and move out soon. He's adorable when he's territorial.

"I can confirm that Kon hasn't asked yet." Steph announces, strutting into the room in all her purple gown glory. Behind her, the Row sbilings wander in with matching celtic blue suits, making Dick grin. It's always nice to see people appreciate the best color. "Tim isn't the type of person to not show off his ring whenever he has a chance."

"I've always wanted to see a real-life popersoal!" Jarro gasps, flying into the room with his own little suit on. It's a nice black with green undertones just like Bruce's.

He lands in the miniature chair with a dinner dining set Alfred had special ordered for him.

It sits on top of where a regular dining set usually is, always the second chair on Bruce's left, because he is literally the favorite. Bruce denies it, but they all see the tender smile he throws the floating star.

The Wayne kids know. Jarro is too precious and hilarious, so none of them mind that he's the favorite. In fact, Dick has half the mind that he's the favorite of the majority of the family.

Jason leans over to pat Jarro's head, grinning when the little starfish swears. He adores when the kid randomly curses out of Aldred's hearing range.

"Shh, they're coming!" Cullen says from where he was lingering by the door, hoping to see Tim and Kon. He always looked up to the older boys as someone who had been forced into the closet for his own protection.

Seeing people like him helped ease the fear, and Dick feels his smile wideing when Cullen scrambles back to his seat. He's so excited he's practically in the Speed Force.

Alfred opens the door first, stepping to the side to allow the guest to enter first. Dick feels himself sit up straighter, the moment really setting in, Kon is going to propose to his younger brother.

His little Timmy is growing up-

"Wow, this place is big!" A child says, running into the room. Who the heck is he? "It's amazing, Dad!"

"Slow down. You don't want to fall." Tim laughs, rubbing the stranger's hair with a soft smile.

"It's okay, Dad. I'm strong!" The boy flexes his tiny arms. Tim laughs again as Kon crouches down to the little boy's height.

"Woah! Look at all those musceles. You're going to help me protect your dad, son?"

"Yeah Pa, I'll be the strongest super or robin ever!"

"Tim? Who might this lovely chum be?" Bruce cuts in, voice slightly strained. No one calls him out on it since they are staring wide eye at the tiny little boy who looks like an exact copy of Tim at age five.

Dick knows because he was one of the few in the Wayne's who saw Tim at that age. He's practically a clone to oh no.

Dick thinks he's having a heart attack.

Tim looks up at them before a brillient glowing smile breaks across his face. "Everyone, Kon and I have an announcement to make!"

Kon wraps an arm around his waist, sending adoring looks to man in his arms before they both hold up their left hand.

There are twin silver bands on both of their fingers. "We got married in Las Vegas, and we have a son! I like you all to meet Danny Drake-Kent! I made him when I thought Kon was dead."

"I am Danny, clone of Kon-el and Tim Drake. Fear me if you dare!" His voice squeaks. Squeaks.

Scratch that, Dick knows he's having a heart attack.

You can hear a pin drop in the silence his announcement cause, as Danny puffs up his chest and floats a few inches off the grown.

Oh, great heavens, Dick is an uncle.

"A fellow clone, son!" Jarro cheers from his little table. He slams two of his star points on the table to a beat that he speaks to. "One of us. One of us."

Danny's blue eyes land on the star fish and widen. He raises both arms into the air chanting back. "One of us. One of us. One of us!"

"It's awesome is what it is!" Steph cries, jumping up from her seat. "Hi, Danny! I'm you, Auntie Steph! I'm the cool one."

"Isn't this lovely? Master Tim not only has a husband but a child as well. Unlike some Masters." Aldred doesn't quite glare at Bruce, but he doesn't have to. The Waynes know who he means as Bruce wince.

Danny pauses in his chanting to look her up and down, staring pointily at her plum colored dress before humming. "That's a bold statement for an eggplant."

Steph gapes at him as Tim roars with laughter.

Oh, Dick is going to love this kid. He leaves his seat, trying to get to his nephew as the rest of the family attempts to do the same. Damain makes alarming threats to Kon, letting him know he would easily take him out if he detects a hint of mistreatment to his brother and new nephew.

The Waynes act like they can't hear the threat because they all have their own versions of the shovel talk prepared. They just have to get the clone alone.

It's a nice dinner.

[rainintheevening]

They're his children of course. Richard still recognizes them; it's only been two years.

And yet...

Peter is a man. Still six months shy of his draft papers, but he stands, walks, sounds like a man. He always has a pocket knife, he tips his hat to all the females, he sings in a baritone that will only get deeper and richer. The tea he makes is decent, but sometimes he drinks coffee now. He talks about horses and crops and reads Augustine. He can drive a car. He gives orders, and expects them to be followed.

They all look to him, to Peter. Helen calls him to open a jar, Susan questions how her hair looks, Lucy runs to him in tears. As for Edmund, he and Peter are curiously joined, they turn to each other with their laughter, their thoughts, their books and newspapers and letters. As often as his family swirls around him, Richard sees them swirl around Peter, a habit, he knows, born of necessity, but that doesn't prevent it from being strange. Even painful.

Peter moves to take the head of table, catches himself. They both start to say grace, stop, glance at each other. Peter takes the newspaper over breakfast, and is a page in before he remembers. And every time he apologises. Each time he smiles at his father, and it is warm, glad, even benevolent.

One of the first nights, shortly after Christmas, Peter finds him sitting in his old armchair, staring into the fire, after everyone else has gone up to bed. "Dad?" comes the question, and he looks up blinking at the tall man, lamplight crowning him in gold, blue eyes deep and dark with knowledge and certainty.

"I'm not who I was," Richard says, a confession, the kind a father shouldn't burden his son with he thinks immediately, but then Peter is down on one knee, reaching for the mangled hand, tender with the three fingers as he clasps strong calloused palms around them.

"Neither am I, Dad. None of us are." Peter's gaze is earnest, bright. "But you are still my father. And I will always be your son. I am forever grateful for that."

It is as if a great burden rolls off of his shoulders, and he finds no shame in leaning on Peter's hand to rise.

When the holidays end, and the four go back to school, Peter says I love you to each of them at the station.

If Peter is a man now, Susan is a lady.

She sits straight, she walks gracefully, she can cook anything as well or better than her mother. She reads the newspapers with Peter, she scolds Lucy for coming home with twigs in her hair and a tear in her stocking and wet shoes.

She talks less than her father remembers, and there is a woman's sadness in her gazing out the window or into the fire. She is also very admiring of the boys in uniforms, and Richard requests her arm on the way out of church with a father's righteous sense of protection.

But she is also gentler than he recalls, she does not shy away from his injured hand, she takes care of him without making him feel as if he needs care. She sits on a cushion by his feet as she braids her hair in the evenings, leans on his knee as she reads aloud, and Richard thinks, Not my little princess, but a queen now.

At the train station, she kisses him goodbye, and he hugs her close, and there are tears in her eyes as she says I love you.

Edmund is the closest to unrecognizable, the once-obvious four year span between he and Peter seemingly halved. He greets his father wordlessly, all shining eyes and bright smile, and his face is so close to Richard's own it makes his heart break a little.

Ed is no more little boy, he is tall, slim, oddly graceful, but his handclasp is strong. He holds himself the same way Peter does, with squared shoulders and lifted head, but he wears that nobility in a quieter fashion. He's quick to see, quick to hear, quick with a wisecrack that makes Peter laugh out loud. He plays the violin now. He returns the family Bible to the living room with an apology for having kept it since the summer holidays. He reads Agatha Christie as a personal challenge, whispers to Susan in French, and his chess games with Peter are fierce battles of strategy that Richard cannot keep pace with.

In discussions of the war and its movements, he is sober and considerate, he meets each of Peter's moods with a balancing counter, he has a way of phrasing questions that pull out stories Richard had never planned to tell.

A few nights before the children return to school, Richard sits up in bed, certain he has heard a faint cry, and he slips away from his exhausted wife to check on his children, remembering how Edmund had suffered from night terrors as a child, imagining little Lucy inflicted with some dark dream.

But all he finds is shadows in the boys' room, and quiet whispers—Peter's apologies, Edmund's reassurance, and allusions to things Richard has no context for. He lingers by the door, an outsider in his home, until silence falls, and he returns with morning light to find them curled together in Peter's bed, Pete with an arm over Ed, and the father's love is bittersweet.

They have fought their own battle over here, on the home ground, Richard reminds himself. In their own way they have each faced terror and learned to conquer or be conquered, but perhaps he can meet them somewhere in between. Only time will tell.

On the train platform, Ed hugs his father tightly, gives him a smile, tells him to keep out of trouble.

Lucy is the least changed, though she too is taller and stronger, and her eyes are deeper. She still sings, still dances, still tries to make friends with all the animals, still smiles and speaks kind and stares dreaming at the Christmas tree.

She still gives fierce hugs, still climbs into her father's lap, though her head comes up higher on his chest, on his shoulder.

But then he finds gaps in his library, and Lucy returns the medical books with a winsome apology, she asks questions about his practices in the field, she winces but does not shy away from the blood and broken things he speaks of.

Then she recites long poems, words spinning off her tongue until they become half song; she dances swift and graceful, she and Peter laughing and stepping and clapping and spinning in intricate patterns to the swing song on the radio; and it is she who, breathless, quotes Byron: "On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined!"

Her comfort is both generous and thoughtful, and she strokes her father's hair with a motherly hand that makes his eyes sting, and he kisses her fingers, looks up at her to whisper, "Don't- don't grow up quite so fast, my darling."

When she hugs him on the platform, Susan waiting for her, the boys already gone, she doesn't want to let go, and there are tears on her cheek, that he wipes away gently. "Be careful, Daddy," she whispers. "Get strong. Take care of Mummy."

"Yes, little mother," he smiles back.

And then they are all gone, and he takes a cab home, weary of his still-recovering body.

He will have to learn his children all over again, he thinks. But he is proud of them still. That has not changed.