#a stack of pancakes would be amazing

[bunnny84]

I just saw an ad for cheese and I tried to like it. I need breakfast 🥞

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Joker Junior Tim but Tim's afraid of Harley and JJ loves Harley because that's his mom.

When Harley first found out that Tim was JJ and that the bats were the Waynes, she was torn. She wanted so bad to spend time with her son and to apologize, but she couldn't. She felt horrible for what she did.

Reason being is the first time she confronted Red Robin, or Robin at the time, while on patrol. She had found him on a roof and he had been so terrified of her he was shivering. Her heart hurt for Tim, who was scared of her.

She left him alone after that, always choosing to avoid the bird's line of sight and hearing range so he wouldn't be scared. It wasn't until one of the other bats talked to her, Oracle, that she decided to try to get close to Robin.

At first she started by sitting at the farthest end of the building where Tim was perched. She watched him for a few minutes before looking away. This happened several times.

At the point he stopped shivering and looking as tense as he used to be, she moved closer. Day by day, week by week, month by month, she got close to him till she was sitting next to him.

They had started up a friendship then. She would do most the talking, making motherly gestures here and there, till one day, he fell asleep on her. She had taken him to her house that winter night and tucked him into bed, kissing him goodnight and setting out breakfast, hot chocolate, and fresh clothes along with a bag the next morning.

He was scared, of course, this was a villain's anti-hero's house, you couldn't drop your guard too much.

He knew he shouldn't have trusted her.

"Goodmorning, kiddo. I made you some pancakes and hot chocolate. There's some clothes on the bedside and a bag for your costume, Timmy, that way you don't have to go home in that."

He stood frozen as he stared at the large stack of pancakes laid out. He slowly moved forward, taking the fork next to the plate and took a piece off of it.

He hesitated when biting it, but when he did, nothing was wrong with it. It tasted amazing.

He had almost choked several times when he scarfed down the pancakes, the best pancakes he's ever tasted if he does say so himself(sorry Alfred), and thanked her.

He changed and put his stuff in the bag before getting ready to leave, but he stopped himself.

He looked at her, and she looked confusedly at him.

"About the Joker.."

He didn't need to finish his sentence, she already knew.

She sat down and motioned him to sit in the seat next to her, so he did.

She didn't look him in the eye when she spoke. She talked for a while, told him about her relationship with the Joker, about how sorry she was about what she helped do to him, everything.

After that talk, their relationship changed. They became closer, the bats noticed.

Alfred, Bruce, and Barbara seemed indifferent to the change in their relationship, because they knew what happened. They were happy about it, even, about how well their relationship has grown.

At one point, though, things changed again. Red Robin was taken and electrocuted, triggering JJ to cone out. The bats were stuck, unable to do anything without JJ doing something in return, Red Hood was frozen in place despite himself.

It wasn't until Harley entered the scene that JJ ran to her, hugging her, calling her mama that he calmed down enough and started crying.

"Oh Junior, it's okay baby. Mommy's here."

Harley kept saying those comforts until Ivy arrived and swept them away.

"Hey!" Nightwing called out, prepared to go after them. Batman, however, stopped him, stepping up to Ivy.

"Have you got him?" he asked her. "Yes, we'll take care of him until he's better. Tomorrow's your only time I'm allowing you in my place to give him things. Your next visit is when he asks." She warned him. He nodded in return, unphased by her threat.

"B, why did you let them take him."

"There are things you don't know, about the time when Red Robin started out as Robin." Was the simple answer Batman gave them before he left, clearing out the area.

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ cozy mornings with logan !

you woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside, sunlight gently streaming through the curtains. stretching out, you turned over, half-expecting logan to still be asleep, but the other side of the bed was empty. that wasn’t unusual. he was always up early, starting his day before the sun even fully rose.

what was unusual was the smell coming from the kitchen. a mix of coffee, something sweet, and something cooking. sitting up, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and smiled softly. logan wasn’t much of a breakfast person—usually, it was coffee and maybe a quick snack before he headed out���but the smell of whatever was in the kitchen was unmistakably homemade. curious, you slipped out of bed and padded quietly down the hall.

when you reached the kitchen, you found him there, standing by the stove with his back to you. the sight made your heart warm a little. he was wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, but his hair was still a bit mussed, like he hadn’t even bothered to fix it after getting up. his movements were careful as he flipped something in the pan, and you couldn’t help but smile at how focused he looked.

“morning,” you called softly, leaning against the doorway.

logan turned, eyebrows raising slightly. “you’re up.” his voice was low, that familiar gravelly tone still soft from the early hour. “i was gonna bring this to you.”

“bring it to me?” you teased, stepping closer. “since when do you make breakfast?”

he huffed, turning back to the stove. “since now, apparently.” there was a small stack of pancakes already sitting on the counter, along with a pot of coffee and some fresh fruit.

“smells amazing,” you said, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. he didn’t stop what he was doing, but you felt him lean back into you a little. “what’s the occasion?”

“no occasion,” he muttered, flipping the last pancake before turning off the stove. “just… figured i’d do something nice.”

the simplicity of his answer made you smile even more. it wasn’t like logan to go out of his way for things like this. he showed affection in different ways, quieter ways—like checking to make sure you were safe or silently offering you his jacket when you were cold. but cooking breakfast? that was new.

“you’re sweet, you know that?” you said softly, your cheek pressing against his back as you hugged him a little tighter.

he scoffed. “yeah, well… don’t get used to it.”

but you knew he didn’t mean it. you could feel the warmth radiating from him, could tell by the way his muscles relaxed under your touch that he liked this, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“come on,” he said, brushing your arms off him gently as he moved to plate the pancakes. “sit down. i made coffee too.”

you laughed quietly, taking a seat at the small kitchen table as he brought everything over. the pancakes were stacked high, golden brown and fluffy, and the coffee was already poured in your favorite mug. “you really went all out,” you said, still a little surprised by the effort he’d put in.

“figured you’d like it,” he shrugged, sitting down across from you with his own plate. “you deserve a good breakfast.”

the sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat. you reached across the table, your hand covering his for a moment, and he gave it a small squeeze before pulling away, already cutting into his food.

the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the kind of quiet that only comes from being completely at ease with each other. every now and then, logan would glance up at you, making sure you were enjoying what he’d made, but he didn’t need to ask. you were more than happy.

“these are incredible,” you said around a mouthful of pancake. “who knew you could cook?”

he smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. “don’t expect this every morning.”

“oh, i know. this is a rare treat.” you grinned, kicking his foot lightly under the table. “but i appreciate it.”

he didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod, his smirk softening into something almost like a smile. after a few minutes, he finished eating and leaned back in his chair, watching you polish off the last bite.

“you always do this,” he said suddenly.

you raised an eyebrow. “do what?”

“eat like you haven’t had a decent meal in days.” there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but also something else—something soft and affectionate.

you laughed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “well, it was really good. what can i say?”

he huffed again, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he stood and grabbed both your plates, setting them in the sink. “you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, shaking his head. “c’mon. let’s go sit outside for a bit.”

you followed him out to the porch, where the early morning sun was just starting to warm the air. you sat beside him, leaning into his shoulder, and he let out a quiet sigh, wrapping an arm around you.

“don’t get used to this either,” he grumbled softly, but you could feel how content he was, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held you close.

“don’t worry,” you teased, snuggling into him. “i’ll take what i can get.”

and there you stayed, wrapped up in each other as the morning unfolded quietly around you.

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[buckyalpine]

Hi!!!! I love your work and talent, you are so amazing!💗 I was wondering if you could do a light angst fic. Like bucky is a player who is just running through women, and the avenger reader has a big crush on him . She has to watch him string girls through the tower all the time and it makes her sad. Bucky's type is dark,red lip, baddie but reader is the mom of the friend group and wears pink and is super sweet and a little awkward, she is also a mutant who has like earth powers. So whenever she's happy or laughing flowers will bloom in her hair. She's so cute. Kinda like the trope: she fell first but he fell harder. And like bucky realizes that he's madly in love with our sweet baby angel reader. And the FLUFF!! 💗💗💗

Thank you, love Binks 💖

Yes. Yesyesyes. I hope you're all ready cause I sat with this piece for weeks. Jealously, Misunderstandings, love sick Bucky, idiots in love, SO MUCH ANGST AND FLUFF . Protective best friend Steve and dash of smut cause I can't help myself, its so sweet and soft and I love these two, put myself in my feelings with their spicy and sweet loving.

-

"See you later Sargent" A gorgeous woman walked by the kitchen on her way out or the tower, winking over her shoulder and blowing a kiss to the soldier who smirked at her in response. Her lipstick hadn't budged even after a night of who knows what with Bucky, her perfectly curved hips swaying along with the click of her heels.

You were busy with making breakfast, dustings of flour covering your nose and cheeks, still in your baby pink pj's, looking the total opposite of the gorgeous girl Bucky spent the night with.

"Damn Barnes" Tony whistled after the she had left, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Where do you find em'-Ow!" Tony yelped when Nat gave his ear a flick, cocking her eyebrow up in amusement.

"I'll let Pepper know you're curious-

"Nope. No. I was just admiring Terminators taste" Tony threw his hands up, swiping a hot pancake from the stack you were plating making you giggle, tiny daisies blooming around your hair "These are delicious Petal. I'll never get tired of seeing that" Tony smiled, looking at the fresh little flowers that reflected your mood, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before returning to the lab.

"Sure, admiring taste" Nat snorted while Bucky snickered, taking a seat at the kitchen island; his fluffy hair still messy from bed. You set down a plate in front of him, adding butter and some fresh strawberries on the side just the way he liked.

"Here you go Sargent" You smiled softly before getting started on cutting up more fruit for Steve and Sam who would be returning from their run soon.

"These are amazing" Bucky hummed, reaching for more; he'd never get tired of your cooking. You tried to bite back a smile while vines of baby pink roses weaved their way through your hair, matching the fuzzy feeling the soldier made you feel. The flowers were not missed by Bucky who watched you continue to flit about the kitchen like a little garden fairy, making sure everyone would have something for breakfast. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way you crawled up onto the counters like a cat to reach the highest shelves, a few knotty tendrils sneaking their way through your hair indicating your frustrations when you nearly dropped a cup.

"Do you have different flowers for different moods?" Bucky continued to watch you while you slinked off the counter, starting on a smoothie.

"Sort of? Yeah I guess" You thought to yourself, noting you'd often have yellow ones when you'd laugh, or purple ones when you were excited. You only ever got pink ones around Bucky; the only person to make you feel warm and shy and soft. You were caught off guard the first time you saw the tiny pink buds in your hair the same day you met him when you joined the team. No one else seemed to notice, too busy admiring the fact that gorgeous petals decorated your hair.

Everyone except Bucky.

The soldier was trained to notice everything.

He'd seen every type of flower adorn your hair but these ones were just around him.

"What do the little pink roses mean you're feeling?" Bucky asked, cocking his head when you looked at him like a deer in headlights.

Shit.

"It-I-happy! It means I'm happy" You stuttered out unconvincingly while Bucky hummed, cleaning off his plate before heading down to the gym, taking one last glance over his shoulder before rounding the corner.

Those tiny pink roses suited you perfectly; the human embodiment of a little fairy.

Ever since you'd joined the team, they were blessed with a full breakfast almost every morning, sometimes even dinner. Outside of your role as an Avenger, you took on a nurturing role within the team and of course that was just who you were, being so in tune with nature and naturally caring for those around you. Still, it was evident you went above and beyond just instinct when it came to taking care of others; you were very much the mom of the group. Initially Bucky found it confusing, wondering why you were so nice to everyone, always checking on their needs and being prepared for just about anything. He was so used to functioning on his own, he found it jarring when you were looking out for him too; didn't you know who he was? Why were you being nice to him?

He didn't even have it in him to give you the cold shoulder like he did with everyone else. What kind of person would he be if he was rude to the sweetest person he'd ever met. You were just so precious and sweet and you always smelled like fresh flowers and sunshine, he would've basked under your light for hours on end if you let him-

Bucky shook his head, breaking away from the train of thoughts he was having about you yet again. You didn't make sense. More specifically, him thinking of you didn't make sense. He was rough, rugged, made of muscle and metal, didn't like most people and the last time he'd been nurturing was back when he'd nurse Steve back to health more than 70 years ago.

You on the other hand were literally made of flowers, combined with soft sweetness, shy smiles and giggles. You were cute. Too cute. He had no business thinking about you, ignoring the fluttery jitter in his heart as he tossed a wink to a SHIELD agent who was training at the weights. She had joined recently, typically taking on missions which required her to go under cover in skin tight dresses and bodysuits; it was perfect for her given her tall and toned build. The woman smirked in response, biting her dark red painted lip before making her way over to him by the punching bags.

"Hey Sarge" she purred, bringing her hand up to toy with his dogtags, tugging at them suggestively, "Busy tonight?"

"We're having a movie thing" Bucky shrugged, not suggesting they had to do anything else after but if that's where the night led then-

"Hmm, I'll see you later then" She batted her lashes at him before going back to her set.

This made sense.

Casual. Sexy. Flirty.

Everything Bucky was good at and comfortable with. No feelings, no attachments. No deep, undying love he felt for a certain sweet girl on his team that he'd give his life for.

This made perfect sense.

-

You were the last to make it down to movie night after spending most of the evening prepping drinks and snacks for others. Movie nights were rare and it was even more rare for everyone to be present. You made sure there was something for each member of the team, from sour candy to chocolate, chips, cookies, tiny sandwiches and an array of drinks you'd set up on the coffee table.

You stood at the edge of the living room dressed in your warm oversized sweater and mismatched fluffy socks, nervously peering around the room for an empty space; usually you'd curl up on the two seater sofa with a thick fuzzy blanket draped over you but-

Your heart sank seeing yet another beautiful girl cuddled up next to Bucky, taking up all the space on the couch. A part of you contemplated on going back to your room; the sinking feeling in your stomach worsened seeing the new agent adjust herself until she was pressed right against the soldier. Why did you have to fall for for the person who wouldn't look at you twice. You were dressed in clothes too big and soft, a stark contrast to the matching silk lounge set she was wearing, leaving no doubt over how absolutely perfect her body was.

"Hey Petal, c'mere" Steve noticed you looking for a spot, patting he seat beside him, shifting over so you could join. You smiled at the Captain, quietly shuffling through the room, hiding into the cushions as the movie started. Your heart dropped further each time you heard the girl Bucky was with giggle, slinking around his lap while he gave her his flirty smirk. There were occasional times where flowers wouldn't bloom in your hair and this was one of them.

Steve noticed your less than enthusiastic demeanor, catching you glancing over at the brunette super soldier and his friend for the night, internally rolling his eyes at what an idiot his best friend was. He threw his arm around you, pulling you in to snuggle with him, whispering his own commentary as the movie progressed, hoping to lighten your mood.

You giggled, a few yellow flowers blossoming in your hair making Steve grin. Bucky watched carefully, a new emotion flaring in his chest as he watched bright petals fall onto your lap each time you laughed. He didn't like the new feeling that started off as warm to blazing hot, what was it he was even feeling-

Irritation? Sure a bit.

Confusion? Most certainly but not quite.

Jealously.

That's what he was feeling. He wanted to be the one who caused gorgeous tendrils of flowers to bloom, the one to make you giggle and laugh, the one who got to snuggle up with you. He was envious over how lucky Steve was, getting to cuddle up with such a soft bunny, his jealously momentarily interrupted when he took a moment to look at what you were wearing.

You looked so comfy with your warm sweater, your feet nice and toasty with your favorite socks. Bucky remembered you talking to him about them once, reading socks you'd called them.

"They're super soft and warm!" you grinned, clutching them to your chest after a trip to a book store. "I've been wanting a pair for ages. I finally caved and got them, I can't wait to put them on"

Bucky remembered chuckling to himself over how excited you'd gotten over a pair of socks, a few buds of lavender poking through your hair from how relaxed and calm they made you feel.

You looked so soft to cuddle up with like a little bear he'd hold to his chest, one that would protect him and keep him warm and safe. He wished he had a spot beside him because you would've sat where you always do and it would be him with his arm around you instead of Steve. He didn't want anything else. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to create some distance between himself and the agent, her close proximity suddenly feelings much to hot. She frowned, feeling him pull back, scooting over till she was cuddled up with him again.

Great.

"Did you want me to grab you something?" Steve asked you as he reached over for some chips, popping a few into his mouth. Before you could respond, you saw the woman whisper something in Bucky's ear, winking playfully before sitting up and taking his hand, the both of them leaving the movie half way. You felt like throwing up knowing he was taking her to his bedroom though you knew you had no right to be upset. He wasn't yours and he was welcome to do as he pleased though that didn't make the pain go away.

Bucky's POV

"How about it Sarge" She moved her hand up his thigh, giving it a squeeze, not bothering to wait for the movie to finish. Bucky stared at her like a deer in headlights while she cocked her head waiting for a response. Bucky glanced over to you, his heart breaking seeing your face fall. "Bucky? Are you listening to me?"

Bucky blinked realizing he was paying attention to you, mumbling an apology before turning to the agent. He didn't know who he was fooling but it was getting embarrassing, especially when he knew Steve was glaring at him from across the room. Neither of them had to open their mouths to understand the silent conversation they were having through their eyes alone.

"You're an idiot"

"Shut up"

"You know you like her"

"I-I don't..."

"Then why do you keep glaring at me like I stole your girl punk"

"Don't worry about it"

"You better figure it out before you hurt her more"

"She likes me?"

"You're an idiot"

"Jerk"

That did it. Bucky couldn't' last another second seeing your petals fall, the flowers Steve brought all retreating away and he couldn't sworn he saw you blink back tears. He couldn't keep doing this.

"Um, yeah sure" Bucky nodded, leading the woman away, walking past the elevators and towards the compound exist instead. As soon as he'd told the new agent he just couldn't do it he ran back to the living room in hopes of finding you only to find your spot empty.

You did your best to bite down on your trembling lip but it didn't work. As soon as the first whimper slipped out, Steve hugged you softly, telling you to to go to your room. You looked at him through wet lashes, his soft blue eyes filled with understanding. You rushed straight to your room, zooming right past Bucky's hoping you wouldn't have to hear anything, curling up into a ball in your bed where you wept under the covers.

Why did you fall for him?

Bucky looked over to Steve who nodded towards the elevators that took you to your floor, the super soldier wasting no time pressing the button to the 4th floor. He was at your door as soon as the elevator dinged open, softly knocking while his stomach continued to churn.

What would you think of him.

Why didn't he just accept his feelings the second he fell in love with those pretty little pink roses?

God you probably hated him now.

Bucky nervously chewed his lip,

"Petal?" Bucky called for you, hoping you'd open the door, his his heart hammering against his chest hearing soft sniffles from the other side of the door. "Petal, can you open the door sweets?"

He heard you continue to softly cry, his body working before his mind could catch up as he let himself into your room. He hated the sight of the little ball buried under a pile of blankets, hiding away from the world with a broken heart because of him. He made his way to your bed, sitting on the edge, petting the blanket gently to let you know he was there.

"Bucky?" You shuffled some of the blanket off, surprised to see him there, what was he doing in your room? Wasn't he spending the night with the girl he'd brought? Why did he look so distraught? You sat up with concern, looking him over to see if he was hurt because why was he here with you when he should be with her?

"Did-did you need something, is everything okay?" You tried to keep you voice steady, quickly wiping away your tears and forcing a smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

"No sweet girl, everything isn't okay" Bucky whispered, smiling at your confused pout, his hand coming up to brush some of the strands of hair that were near your forehead. He let his hand linger on your cheek, wiping away your wet cheeks with his thumb before sitting closer to you. "Why were you crying"

You averted your eyes as soon as he asked the question, staring at your lap instead, playing with your fingers. Your voice was caught in your throat, shrugging as if you didn't know the answer. Bucky was surprised with himself, equally shy to actually say anything even though he wanted to pour his heart out. With others the smooth talking, the flirting, the boyish smirks came easy.

Not with you.

Not with his little fairy.

"Y/n, please" He tilted your chin to meet his puppy like eyes, hoping you'd understand how he felt without saying anything. His innocent gaze caused your cheeks to heat up, feeling his rough calloused hands touching you so softly. You bit your lip as your hair betrayed you, pink petals starting to decorate your hair.

"What do the little pink roses mean?" He whispered with hope in his voice, his heart aching with need seeing your shy smile, "Please tell me pretty girl. I- I only see them when I'm around you"

"It-it means-" you hesitated, scared this would all come crashing and burning if you told him the truth. Maybe he was just being nice, pausing his date to check on you. Or maybe-Just maybe? "I like you"

Had he not had super hearing Bucky would've missed your near silent whisper. The blush on his cheeks matched the flowers in your hair as he reached out for you, pulling you to his chest.

"C'mere my precious little petal" Bucky cooed, scooping you in his arms. You squeaked in surprised before giggling into his chest, the sound making Bucky's heart swell. "There she is" He smiled against your hair seeing little buds blooming again, the tiny pink roses he loved so much sprouting to life.

"Don't you have a date" You asked hesitantly while Bucky shook his head, holding onto you tighter.

"You should've been my date petal, m'sorry for not telling you how I felt about you earlier. I was scared"

"Scared?" You cupped his scruffy cheek, letting your thumb stroke his beard while he nodded, leaning into your touch.

"Scared I wasn't right for you. It didn't feel right falling in love with someone so precious when you're the complete opposite of me" His confession caused stray tears to slip down your cheeks while Bucky kissed them away. "But I promise, if you'd let me have you, I'd take care of you and love you with my whole heart. I promise I'd never hurt you sweets, I've fallen so hard for you, there's no one else I'd rather be with"

You couldn't help yourself, pulling him down for a kiss, giggling at the surprised squeak he let out before groaning and melting into your sweetness.

"I'm yours Jamie"

Stop here if the fluff was enough. Cause next is their sweet love making.

I know it's not part of the ask but imagine their first night together where Bucky doesn't want to over step so he doesn't make a move. He notices you being more cuddly and shy, burrowing into him when you're in his room and that's when he sees gorgeous deep red roses blooming in your hair. He knows by now how to read your mood based on your flowers but he hadn't seen this before.

"Petal?"

"What is it Buck" You look at him with wide doe eyes, hoping he doesn't feel the the heat you feel radiating through your body. You need him. It's more than just physical; you need him as close as possible in the most intimate way because you adore him so much.

"Your hair sweet girl" He runs his fingers through your hair, stroking the velvety petals making you whine from sensitivity, immediately silencing yourself from embarrassment. "What do you need love, you can tell me"

"Need you closer" You whispered, nuzzling your face into his neck where you could breathe in his cologne and a scent that was distinctly him.

"Closer how baby, you're-" It takes a moment for the pieces to click for Bucky to figure out just how much closer you need him, moving his hands to your hips, rubbing them up and down. "oh. OH. Is that all baby? Need me extra close?"

You nodded with another whine while Bucky moved you to lay against his pillows before slowly undressing you until you were both bare with nothing separating you.

"Bucky please, just-just want you" On any other night, you'd allow him to tease and toy with your body but you needed him so badly, your body throbbing, feeling more empty than ever.

"Shhh, m'here baby, it's okay, breathe for me petal, okay?" He stroked your hair while rubbing his weeping tip through your folds gathering your slick before pressing his cockhead against your entrance, "m'right here"

You both gasped at the feeling of him pushing his length inside, his movements slow until he was buried to the hilt. Your pussy quivered trying to pull him in deeper, tears welling along your lash line as he started to move, hardly pulling out, keeping his cock deep inside you.

"Look at these pretty roses" Bucky whispered against your lips as he rocked his hips, his hands laced with yours while more flowers bloomed, your legs moving to wrap tightly around his waist.

"All-all just for you Bucky" You hiccupped with pleasure between moans feeling a different level of satisfaction with him inside you. You finally felt complete as he moved faster, clinging onto him so you'd feel his full body weight lay on you. "More-I-I need more"

You'd never felt like this before, your powers starting to manifest throughout the room as you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Dark green stems crawled up the bed posts as he fucked you harder, your gorgeous floral scent sending Bucky into over drive. He was the only one who'd make you feel like this, the only person to ever get to see those dark red petals strewn across his bed.

There was something so intimate knowing no one else would ever get to see you like this, no one else would smell how sweet you were when he drove you mad with pleasure.

All the dark red roses full of love and lust just for him.

"I'll give you more pretty girl" Bucky growled, his own high licking down his spine feeling your pussy tighten around him, begging for him to keep going.

"Don't-please don't stop" you begged, clawing at his back, "I-I'm gonna-"

"Cum baby, cum for me petal, give it to me" He pleaded right back, sweat beading at his forehead, his pace growing sloppy. Your back arched off the bed as he reached to rub your sensitive bud sending your nerves into over drive. "OH BUCKY"

As soon as he felt your pussy clamp around his cock as you cried out in pleasure Bucky moaned loudly, tucking his face into your neck as he spilled into you.

"Take it love, t-take it" He stuttered, trembling as the last of his orgasm dribbled into you. He watched in awe as the deep red petals that previously covered the room disappeared into thin hair, his classic favorite little pink roses decorating your hair once more. Bucky pulled the sheets over you both, holding you to his chest while kissing your forehead at you closed your eyes.

"Sleep tight, petal"

[theladyheroine]

🥞 Pancakes 🥞

Movie! Shadow x Platonic! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Cozy, Silly

Word Count: 1,503 words

⚠️ Warning: None, except little embarrassment

Summary: Hi guys! I got excited about my last Shadow fic so I wrote another one! The songs I used are this one & this one btw, but this fic is more casual than the previous one so it’s much shorter too. Inspired by when my Mom recently caught me dancing (lol).

I want to spend my life 

With a girl like you!

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba,

Faint words filtered through Shadow’s ears as his eyelids fluttered open. It took him a while to fully realize he was awake, but thankfully he didn’t feel too heavy. He rested for a minute before sitting up and scooting over to the bedside. 

It wasn’t very bright, surprisingly. He saw the blinds had been left open and the dark gray sky filtered over the room. Raindrops scattered across glass, making a rhythmic noise, but it felt nice. 

Till that time has come, 

That we might live as one!

Can I dance with you?

Perking up at the cool words, he shuffled his way towards the door and into the hallway. The sound grew louder before Shadow realized it was music playing, and a buttery smell accompanied it. 

Most of the lights were off since it wasn’t exactly dark out, but only one or two yellow lights shone above the kitchen stove. With you moving and swaying there in a very strange manner. Shadow would hardly call it dancing: you were just bobbing up and down, tossing your head and holding a spatula to your face. If he didn’t know you prior he would’ve thought you looked foolish. But you were his friend now, he wasn’t about to judge. 

Girl, why should it be 

That you don't notice me?

“Can I dance with you?— OhmygoshShadow!!"

You yelped loudly as you quickly jolted back, surprised— and embarrassed— to find Shadow standing behind you. Your spatula knocked into a bowl of pancake batter, sending a blob of beige-white goo down to the floor. 

“Ohshoot-sorry! I didn’t see you there bud!” 

“No, I should’ve said something.” 

You rushed to grab a paper towel and swipe the batter off your tiles, but Shadow beat you to it. 

“Nah, it’s all good! I should’ve been paying attention.” You chuckled and grabbed another one, soaking it under the sink then cleaned any excess mush. 

“Is that The Troggs playing?” Shadow asked, tossing the mess into the trash can. 

You quickly lowered the stove temperature and nodded, “Yup! They’re awesome huh! I love their songs.” 

You were about to scoop up some more batter, then paused for a minute. 

“Wait—You know The Troggs?!” You exclaimed, swinging your face back around. 

“Mmhmm,” Shadow nodded. “I’ve heard only one song, until now.”

You gave a mental “huh” before going back to your pancakes. Even hedgehogs had good taste in music. Who knew?

It had been a full month now since Shadow started living with you, and even without teleportation, he still had ways of surprising you.  

You were home all day since it was the weekend, but Shadow had spent most of his time in his room. He usually did; if you weren’t up and about neither was he. In a way, he was like your own little shadow. You never pressed what he did alone, but judging by his expression, he had just woken up from a nap. 

“What are you doing?” Shadow peered over the counter, quills twitching with curiosity.

“Just makin’ some pancakes. They’re a little crispy though.” 

You slid a slightly burnt piece onto a plate. The pretty golden circles stood in a short stack and gave off an amazing smell. You could see Shadow lean closer as his red eyes grew bigger. 

“They’re…pancakes?” He stated his words as if asking a question, but to himself. Which made you curious. 

“Yep! I know it’s weird having breakfast for lunch, but I wanted to make something different this time.” 

“Uh huh.” He drawled. “They smell nice.”

His brows scrunched up and down, spreading more confusion across his face as Shadow watched the pan sizzle. Pancakes seemed like such an alien concept to him, ironically. 

“Shadow?” You asked. “Have you ever had a pancake before?” 

He paused again, but shook his head. “No. Are they any good?”

“Uh–yes!! They’re delicious!” 

To say you were surprised was an understatement: how could he not know about pancakes? 

Until the realization hit you that he probably hasn’t even seen pancakes before. You didn’t know where Shadow came from, and have avoided mentioning it in the past. Even after you became friends. In all that time spent together, you hardly knew a thing about him. And he still seemed reluctant to share. 

Movement shook you from your daze as Shadow picked up your spatula, poking the goo in the bowl like a little kid. His story would have to wait for another day. Your top priority: showing him the best brunch ever. 

Life could be a dream! Life could be a dream!

Do do do do, SH-Boom!

Your phone quickly changed its tune as The Chords started playing. It couldn’t have picked a more perfect song. 

“Why don’t you give this a try Shadow!” You scooted the pan closer to him, turning off the heat and switching it to the other side. 

“Me?” He fumbled with the spatula. 

“Yea, why not! Don’t worry I’ll help you.” You gave a cheeky grin, “Besides, it’ll be fun to learn. Right?”

Shadow opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly. You had always made meals for him, or either helped him make them. Even when you were gone there’d always be something from the previous night, or wrapped up in plastic. 

But you had a point, he couldn’t rely on you for everything. Especially now. If he was going to stay, he’d have to start pulling his weight around. 

“Alright,” He tugged back his gloves and set himself behind the stove. “I’m ready.”

You poured a cup of batter into the pan. For such a serious character, he looked so adorable.

You two waited for a few minutes before you set your hand on his arm, helping him flip the pancake to the other side. It shifted a little, making tiny splatters, but the color was perfect. For the second one you let him do it himself, and it looked far better than the first.

Life could be a dream! SH-Boom!

If I could take you to a paradise up above,

SH-Boom! And tell me darling, 

“I’m the only one that you love!” You shimmied back and forth to the music as Shadow continued to pour and flip the batter. 

For a first timer he was doing incredibly well! Fast even; his pancakes came out looking far better than yours! To which Shadow claimed could only come natural to him. You shot a surprised look, but you were happy seeing him loosen up. After a little while, Shadow even joined in your silly dance moves. His shoes tapped along to the beat, and you could see his body bouncing as he mouthed the lyrics. You tried giving him a little bump of encouragement, til he stopped and looked at you strangely. 

“Wow!” You coughed, “You’re really getting the hang of this bud.” 

Shadow rolled his eyes but he kept smiling. “Thanks. This is..easier than I expected.” 

After a short while, you two had a full stack of pancakes. You quickly shut off the stove and tossed the bowl into the sink. Maneuvering the food to the countertop, you pulled out two little plates. You were about to grab the butter, but Shadow beat you once again. 

“Can I do it?” The container looked so small in his big hands. 

You nodded and found a plastic knife in the drawers. Leaving Shadow to butter the pancakes while you looked for the syrup. 

You came back from the pantry with a tall bottle in your hands, and to say Shadow was amazed was a clear understatement. The light in his eyes when the dark syrup trickled down the edible tower was enough to brighten any room. 

You two settled at the table, plates in hand. Meals were typically had together nowadays, but each time it felt different somehow. Shadow had come a long way, going from a worrisome little thing to a happy hedgehog! And you couldn’t be prouder.

“‘Kay bud, dig in!” You pushed your fork into the food and Shadow did the same, cutting it into bite sized pieces. 

Everything seemed normal, until after a few bites Shadow stopped. He just sat there, chewing, but his expression quickly changed. It wasn't confusion, more like—a blank expression? 

“Shadow?” You said through your food. “You doin’ okay there?”

Oh how you hoped he didn’t grab the burnt one.

In an instant, Shadow took a larger piece and shoved it in his mouth. He only half chewed before doing the same thing. He did this three more times and it took him about a minute to finish half the plate. 

Syrup coated his mouth, and he swallowed hard before speaking. “You were right. Pancakes are the superior choice.” 

That was all he said before stuffing his face again. 

“Yea-I-erm—yea! Well, I’m glad you like them!” 

You rushed over to sink and grabbed a cup of water. Thinking next time, you should just make eggs instead.

❣️—THE END—❣️

[fandomnerd9602]

Six Months

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Your doe, your mate, had been secretive lately. Wanda was spending time alone, away from you. If you tried to enter her room, she would lock the door. If you wanted to spend an evening with her, she would run away.

“Not yet!” She would say. Her voice carried a little bit of giddiness but still you found it odd.

You and her were approaching your six month anniversary. Six glorious months of being mates. True most of it was still spent cuddling and watching movies together, neither of you were ready for anything else. But still it was glorious.

You woke up on the actual date with a smile on your face. Your plan was ready. You bolted into the kitchen in the early morning hours.

Wanda walked out of her room to the fresh smell of chocolate chip pancakes.

"Are those for me, detka?" she asks inquisitively. You hand her a stack of pancakes and give her a kiss to the cheek.

"Happy six month anniversary, my doe" you smile at her.

"Detka" she giggles.

"One more thing!" you rush into your room and pull out a small deer plushie, bringing it back to your doe like a kid on Christmas.

Wanda gasps, it was beautiful in her eyes. The fur was the same color as her hair. The antlers were shaped just like hers and the eyes were an exact match of hers. "It's like me in plushie!" she exclaims, "I love it!"

She hugs you tight and kisses your jaw. You loved her jaw kisses.

"I have a surprise for you too," she explains, "but only tonight, ok?"

"oh alright" you say playfully before you each strolled off to your rooms to go and get ready for the day.

Within the hour, Wanda was happily skipping the halls of the sanctuary. Her best wolf pal Natasha came up to her, "so did you do it yet?"

"No not yet." Wanda answers, "I'm waiting for the evening. Thanks again for helping me"

"What are pals for?" Natasha gives a little wink, "just let me know how it goes"

Wanda walked into your office with a mischievous little stride. "You're not getting a peep out of me" she states with her arms crossed.

"I'm sure whatever it is, I'm gonna love it" you give her forehead a little kiss. You pull out two PB&J sandwiches and hand one to her. The two of you playfully clink your sandwiches together and take a bite.

The day ended and so came the evening. You and Wanda ordered takeout and watched a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show, Wanda's favorite show.

"I'm ready" she states as her favorite episode ends.

"Oh?"

"Just stay here" she says with a little smile before walking into her room. Wanda walks out holding her guitar, looking at you sheepishly. “This was my surprise for you” she steadies her guitar and begins strumming it.

I'll be your candle on the water,

My love for you will always burn.

I know you're lost and drifting

But the clouds are lifting.

Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn.

You couldn’t help but begin to tear up a little. She looked so serene as she strummed her guitar and sung.

I'll be your candle on the water,

'Till every wave is warm and bright.

My soul is there beside you,

Let this candle guide you.

Soon you'll see a golden stream of light.

The soft flicker of the Edison bulbs in your apartment illuminating her face, it just looked so serene.

Look for me, reaching out to show,

As sure as rivers flow,

I'll never let you go.

I'll never let you go.

I'll never let you go...

She brought the song to a close. You got up and walked over to her. You knelt before your doe, cupping her face in your hands.

You touched your forehead to hers. “I’ll never let you go, my amazing doe”

“Happy anniversary, my love” she giggles.

Year or two later, you found your doe gently singing that same song to your sleeping infant daughter. You just stood in the doorway listening with the same awe as you did the first time.

Your doe, Wanda Maximoff, the love of your life and keeper of your heart.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @revanshand @russianredassassin @aloneodi @julieromanoff @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Forage Feast: crime edition

Rayla, Runaan, and Ethari headed out to forage in the Moonshadow Forest to celebrate with a special meal. They came back with all this food.

Extremely curious how you forage for a cheese wheel. Where does one gather a baguette in the Moonshadow Forest? Or a whole stack of pancakes plus fixins? The bread boule in the center?

Immediate headcanon: "forage" is Moonshadow for petty banditry as much as it means "picking fruit and etc." If it ain't nailed down, it's free real estate! Rayla and her dads just waylaid some travelers with lax security, played a couple tricks on them, and made off with a couple of food items per encounter, until they had enough food to carry home and celebrate Callum joining them.

This would be an amazing Moonshadow cultural tradition. The family that absconds together, bonds together!

[xtra7s]

Hi! I love your writing!! It’s so awesome to see more people writing about reneè!!! Could i request one where the reader is sick with a migraine and reneè takes care of them and it’s super fluffy and cuddly!

𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

Pairing: Renee Rapp x gn!Reader

Synopsis: Y/N wakes up and makes breakfast for them and Renee, ignoring a raging migraine.

Content: Migraines, thats about it. FLUFFFFF

Word Count: 1.3k

masterlist

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, a gentle ray of sunlight catching her across the face. A soft smile lit up her features as she turned, gazing at the sleeping figure nestled beside her - Renee. But the smile faltered almost instantly. A dull ache throbbed behind her right eye, radiating towards her temple like a tightening vice. A migraine.

Y/N knew the familiar signs all too well. Usually, such mornings meant curling up in a cocoon of blankets, darkness, and silence. But today, she had promised Renee pancakes for breakfast, and reneging wasn't an option.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gently disentangled herself from Renee's sleeping form, careful not to disturb her. Determined to surprise Renee with a delicious breakfast, Y/N pushed through the pain, hoping the aroma of pancakes would distract from the discomfort. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, she brushed her teeth hastily, pulling on a large t-shirt over her bra and heading to the kitchen.

The kitchen became a symphony of hushed sounds - the soft click of the kettle, the gentle sizzle of batter hitting the pan, the faint hum of the refrigerator. Each movement was deliberate, and every sound was kept to a minimum. Even the aroma of the pancakes was slightly muted, replaced by the intense throb in her head.

But as the batter bubbled on the griddle, a quiet joy started to bloom within Y/N. The act of creating, of nurturing, was something Y/N loved to do for Renee. Each pancake flipped was a small victory, a testament to her determination not to let the migraine win.

Renee, still blissfully unaware of Y/N's struggle, entered the kitchen with a sleepy smile. "Good morning, love," she greeted, wrapping her arms around Y/N from behind.

"Morning," Y/N replied, attempting to muster enthusiasm despite the pounding in their head. "I made pancakes for us."

Renee's eyes sparkled with delight as she took in the spread on the table. The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and the sight of syrup cascading down the stack made her mouth water. Y/N, however, fought to keep their composure, the pain threatening to overwhelm them.

The smile on Renee's face, the warmth in her eyes as she took a bite, was worth more than any pain reliever.

"These are amazing," Renee murmured, her voice thick with sleep and appreciation.

Y/N smiled back, the ache in her head momentarily forgotten. "I'm glad."

Y/N tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, "How's your night?" they asked, trying to divert attention from their own discomfort.

Renee, taking a bite of the pancakes, noticed something off in Y/N's demeanor. Concern furrowed her brow as she observed Y/N wince, their hand instinctively reaching for their temple.

"Everything okay, baby?" Renee inquired, her voice laced with worry. Y/N forced a smile, attempting to downplay the situation. "Just a little headache, nothing to worry about."

Renee, however, was not easily convinced. She reached across the table, gently placing a hand on Y/N's forehead. "You feel warm. Are you sure you're okay?"

Y/N's shoulders slumped, the facade crumbling under Renee's caring touch. "Honestly, mama I've got a killer migraine. I wanted to make this morning special, but it seems my head had other plans."

Concern deepened in Renee's eyes, and without hesitation, she stood up, walking over to the pantry. "Don't fuckin move, I got you." Renee shuffles around the house, grabbing different things before dimming the lights in the kitchen and living room.

Returning with a cold pack and a glass of water, Renee placed them in front of Y/N. "Ice pack for your head and some water. Let's take care of you first."

Grateful for Renee's understanding, Y/N accepted the provisions. As they sat together, Renee's hand gently rubbing circles on Y/N's back, the warmth of love replaced the ache of the migraine. Despite the initial disappointment, the morning turned into a different kind of special—one where care and concern took center stage.

With the ice pack soothing the throbbing in Y/N's head, Renee continued to shower them with love and care. She settled down next to Y/N, her touch gentle and comforting. Renee's fingers traced comforting patterns on Y/N's arm as they leaned into her warm embrace.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Renee whispered, pressing a tender kiss on Y/N's temple. "Even with a migraine, you went through all this trouble just to make breakfast for us."

Y/N couldn't help but smile, grateful for Renee's understanding. "you're worth it," they replied, their voice filled with affection.

Renee chuckled softly, her fingers threading through Y/N's hair. "And you're worth taking care of. Let me pamper you a bit."

She retrieved a soft blanket from the living room and draped it over Y/N's shoulders. Renee then fetched a cup of soothing tea, knowing it helps with migraines. "Sip on this. It might help with the headache," she suggested, handing the warm mug to Y/N.

As Y/N sipped the tea, Renee continued her efforts to make them comfortable. She adjusted the cushions, made a little cacoon of blankets, and turned on Y/N's favorite show. Renee's actions spoke volumes, expressing her genuine concern and desire to make Y/N feel better.

Cuddling closer, Renee whispered sweet words of reassurance. "I hate seeing you in pain, but I love being here for you. You're so strong, baby."

The warmth of Renee's affection gradually melted away the discomfort, creating a cocoon of love and support. Y/N found solace in Renee's arms, realizing that sometimes the simplest gestures could have the most profound impact.

Renee's hands continued their gentle exploration, massaging Y/N's shoulders with a delicate touch. "You mean so much to me, you know that? Taking care of me, even when you're not feeling your best."

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Renee's sweet words. "come here, my love."

Embraced in the warmth of Renee's arms, Y/N nestled comfortably on her lap. The soft cushions of the couch cradled them as Renee's fingers began to explore the strands of Y/N's hair. Renee's touch was like a gentle caress, fingers running through Y/N's hair with a soothing rhythm.

Renee's eyes softened as she focused on the task at hand, her touch becoming a tender massage for Y/N's scalp. The repetitive motions seemed to lull away the remnants of the migraine, replaced by a deep sense of relaxation. Y/N closed their eyes, reveling in the gentle sensation, as Renee continued to work her magic.

"You have the softest hair," Renee remarked, her voice a gentle murmur. "It's like silk."

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the compliment, appreciating Renee's sweet words. "Well give props to your conditioner," they teased, a hint of playfulness in their tone.

Renee chuckled softly, her fingers continuing their dance through Y/N's hair. The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken by the sound of Y/N's favorite show. It was a moment suspended in time, where the outside world faded away, leaving only the warmth of shared affection.

The soft glow of the morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm ambiance around the room. Renee's fingers worked their magic, not just on Y/N's scalp but also on their heart, creating an intimate connection that went beyond words.

Y/N, still resting on Renee's lap, turned to look up at her with a grateful smile. "I love you," they whispered, their voice filled with love.

Renee leaned down to press a gentle kiss on Y/N's forehead. "I love you too, mama. I just want to make you feel better."

As Renee continued to run her hands through Y/N's hair, the world outside seemed to fade into the background. In that quiet, tender moment, all that mattered was the connection between them—a shared space of comfort, love, and the simple joy of being wrapped up in each other's arms.

[songbirdseung]

WAKING UP NEXT TO THEM / EN-

synopsis: spending the night at their place for the first time and waking up next to them for the first time.

HEESEUNG 이희승 ~

you are definitely waking up before him.

because the night before, you guys played video games till 3 in the morning.

so, you just lay there and appreciate your bambi boy.

You slowly open your eyes, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. As you regain consciousness, you find yourself lying in an unfamiliar bed. The memories from the night before start to flood back – the laughter, the video games, and the undeniable connection with Heeseung.

Careful not to disturb him, you turn your head to find Heeseung peacefully sleeping beside you. His tousled hair falls gently over his forehead, and a serene expression graces his face. The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside.

As you lie there, you take a moment to appreciate the details – the rise and fall of his chest with each peaceful breath, the warmth radiating from his body. The room is filled with a comforting stillness, a stark contrast to the lively gaming session just hours ago.

After a while, you notice a subtle movement from Heeseung. His eyes flutter open, adjusting to the morning light. He blinks a few times, and when he finally focuses on you, a soft smile graces his lips. "Morning." As you lie there, you can't help but feel grateful for the simple joy of waking up next to someone who makes your heart race.

JAY 박종성 ~

you already know, this man will wake up early and cook for you

BREAKFAST IN BED FOR YOU QUEEN!

he'll kiss your face to wake you up

You're still lost in the land of dreams, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in comfort. The gentle morning light seeps through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. Unbeknownst to you, Jay is already up and about, quietly preparing a surprise for you.

"Wake up, baby" He sets the tray down on the bedside table, and you're greeted by the sight of a carefully arranged breakfast in bed. There's a stack of pancakes drizzled with syrup, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. It's a feast fit for royalty.

"What's all this?" "Breakfast for the most amazing person I know. I thought you deserved a little pampering today."

He leans down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. The gesture is filled with warmth and affection, making your heart flutter.

You sit up, still in awe of the thoughtful surprise before you. As you enjoy the delicious breakfast Jay prepared, he sits beside you, stealing glances to gauge your reaction. "This is incredible, Jay. Thank you."

"Anything for you, love"

JAKE 심재윤 ~

both of you would be waken up by layla

teeth rotting sweetness from the moment your eyes meet jake.

he won't let you get up, just continues to cuddle you despite layla's barks

The sun has just begun to cast its gentle morning glow through the curtains as you find yourself slowly waking up beside Jake. The room is filled with a comforting warmth, and Jake's arms are wrapped around you, creating a cocoon of security. Everything is calm until the sound of excited barking breaks the peaceful silence.

Layla, the energetic ball of fur, has decided that morning cuddles are overrated, and it's time for some play. Her energetic barks echo through the room, threatening to shatter the tranquility of the moment.

"Looks like someone's ready to start the day." Despite Jake's attempts to keep you wrapped in his embrace, Layla's enthusiasm is infectious, and she insists on being the alarm clock for the day.

Layla's barks escalate, and it becomes clear that she won't take no for an answer. Jake chuckles and releases you from his grasp, sitting up with a playful glint in his eyes. "I think Layla wants us up, love."

"She's persistent, isn't she?" Jake nods, and you both share a laugh as you get out of bed. Layla, unable to contain her excitement, starts hopping around, tail wagging furiously.

"Alright, let's see what our little troublemaker wants."

As you follow Jake and Layla to the living room, you find yourself enveloped in the morning routine that involves playful banter, belly rubs, and the infectious joy that only a dog can bring. Jake pulls you into another warm embrace, Layla contentedly lounging nearby. Despite the playful chaos, the morning feels perfect – a blend of canine energy and the tooth-rotting sweetness of Jake's affection. As you share a quiet moment, Layla sprawls out between you, seemingly satisfied that her mission to start the day with joy has been accomplished.

SUNGHOON 박성훈 ~

he'll feel the sun on his face and wake up before you

stares and admires your beauty (cause you're a stunner babe)

fell in love with you for the nth time

The soft rays of the morning sun gently filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Sunghoon stirs, his senses gradually awakening as he becomes aware of the sunlight kissing his face. With a contented sigh, he opens his eyes, and the first sight that greets him is you, peacefully sleeping beside him.

You're bathed in the soft morning light, your features softened by sleep. Sunghoon can't help but marvel at your beauty, even in the simplicity of this moment. He takes a moment to simply admire you, the way your eyelashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks and how a faint smile graces your lips.

Sunghoon can feel his heart swell with affection as he watches you, a warmth spreading through him. The sun seems to accentuate the radiance that surrounds you, making you appear ethereal in the morning light. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and gentle so as not to disturb your peaceful slumber.

"How did I get so lucky?"

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead, savoring the sweetness of the moment. Sunghoon takes a mental snapshot, wanting to remember this instance – the quiet morning, the warmth of the sun, and the overwhelming love he feels for you.

SUNOO 김선우 ~

you two are in synced, the same person

you wake up at the same time and admire each other

later, you both do each others' skincare routine.

The morning sun casts a soft glow into the room, and as your eyes flutter open, you realize that Sunoo is already awake, his gaze fixed on you with a fond smile. There's a moment of quiet understanding as you both share the same thought – the joy of waking up together.

"Good morning, Sunoo."

"Good morning, my other half."

You exchange a loving look, feeling a connection that goes beyond words. It's as if you share the same heartbeat, synchronized in the rhythm of the morning. With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Sunoo leans in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

As the morning routine begins, you decide to do something fun – a joint skincare session. Sunoo grins, always up for a bit of banter.

"Are you ready for the ultimate couple skincare routine?"

"Absolutely. We'll be glowing by the end of this." You gather an array of skincare products, and with playful banter and laughter, you take turns applying masks and serums. Sunoo can't resist making funny faces as you carefully spread a mask across his face, eliciting laughter from both of you.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this to me." The banter continues as you exchange beauty tips and secrets, each step of the routine turning into a shared experience. Sunoo even attempts to mimic your skincare routine with exaggerated gestures, causing both of you to burst into fits of laughter.

JUNGWON 양정원 ~

you need the bathroom? too bad, he's not letting you leave the bed

wants to stay in bed the whole day

loving the new experience of waking up next to you

The soft morning light spills into the room, casting a warm glow over the two of you. As you start to stir, Jungwon tightens his grip around you, refusing to let you slip away from the cocoon of blankets and warmth that surrounds you both.

"Jungwon, I need to use the bathroom." Jungwon, with a playful smirk, pulls you closer, his arms securing you against his chest.

"Nope. We're not leaving this bed today." You chuckle, feeling the irresistible pull to stay right where you are – wrapped in his embrace. "But nature calls, Jungwon."

"Nature can wait. Right now, all I want is to stay in bed with you." He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, showering you with affectionate kisses. A mischievous glint in his eyes tells you that he's not going to let you go easily. "What if I promise to come right back?"

Jungwon tightens his hold, his warmth and laughter filling the room. "You're not escaping that easily. Today is a bed day, and I plan to enjoy every moment of it."

You can't help but surrender to the idea. After all, who could resist a day of relaxation with Jungwon? As you settle back into the pillows, Jungwon peppers your face with sweet kisses, reveling in the newfound joy of waking up next to you.

NI-KI 西村 力 ~

as much as he is a prankster, he'll respect your sleep

he'll bask in the moments and pull you closer to him

and you'll be enjoying the romantic side of ni-ki

Ni-ki, despite his mischievous nature, decides to play the role of a silent observer this morning. He refrains from any playful antics that might disturb your sleep, opting instead to bask in the quiet joy of waking up next to you.

As you open your eyes, Ni-ki pulls you closer, his arm wrapped around you in a protective embrace. There's a tenderness in his touch, a departure from his usual playful demeanor. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Morning, sleepyhead." You smile, still feeling the warmth of sleep clinging to you.

"Morning, Ni-ki. What's got into you today?" Ni-ki grins, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "Just enjoying the view. You're not bad to wake up to, you know."

You playfully roll your eyes, appreciating the unexpected romantic side of Ni-ki. As the morning progresses, Ni-ki remains by your side, savoring the quiet moments of connection. He pulls you into a sitting position, his gaze fixed on yours. "I was thinking, we could just stay here, enjoy the morning together."

You can't help but be drawn into the romantic atmosphere that Ni-ki has unexpectedly created. You nod in agreement, both of you reveling in the simple pleasure of shared silence.

[dutifullyscreechingdragon]

Hazbin Hotel x reader cooking headcanons

Summary: HH character headcanons with their s/o and cooking. I hope you enjoy!

Includes:

Angel Dust

Alastor

Vox

Sir Pentious

Angel Dust

Cooking with Angel mostly consists of you cooking and him lying dramatically on the table, most probably making suggestive comments, something along the lines of:

"Why not just skip dinner and all these formalities and go straight to the bedroom?"

or

"Wouldn't you rather have me for dinner?"

That is, until the stove catches on fire and he has to leap over the table in an attempt to save your meal. Usually he succeeds, he is a great cook after all. You always marvel how he can turn a what seemed like a lost cause into a delicious meal.

This is not saying that you're a bad cook, it's just, it's kind of hard to concentrate when your boyfriend keeps making suggestive comments every 5 seconds... He knows that and does so on purpose, he is an annoying little shit like that.

What would you guys be cooking?

Pasta. You'll be making pasta or ravioli or any Italian dish for that matter. He LOOOOOVES Italian food, it reminds him of the past, when he was still alive, of his sister... It holds great sentimental value for him, so if he were to come home after a very rough day in the studio and see Italian food you made for him, boy would melt (please cook for him, he needs the mood boost)

As for baking, you make cupcakes and cookies. Angel usually decorates them, with pink liqueur and sprinkles. He makes some of them look like spiders and hearts - he's amazing with decorations. When he knows you're not looking, he'll make one that looks like a dick..... You know, just to get a rise out of you.

Alastor

Jambalaya. You're definitely eating jambalaya. That's his favourite dish and you bet he'll be cooking it any chance he gets.

"What do you want for dinner, dear?" Alastor calls from the kitchen

"I don't know, whatever you want" you reply.

"Jambalaya it is, then" he says cheerily as you realise your mistake and prepare to eat it for the third time this week.

Alastor definitely teaches you his mother's recipes. This is a deeply personal thing to him and a huge part of opening up and starting to trust you.

He gets really giddy and His heart absolutely melts when you cook for him from the family cookbook. Loves coming home after a hard day to have a warm dinner by a familial recipe made for him.

Great cook. If you don't know how to cook, he'd be happy to do majority of cooking in your household (Though you might have to bribe him with kisses to not use human meat).

Unfailingly offers you human flesh/ raw meat whenever he's eating it. You might see it as gross, he sees it as him being a gentleman.

Vox

Insists on following the recipe to the letter. All hell breaks lose, when there's a typo:

"Add 1500 grams of flour.... That can't be right" you read

"Come on, sweetheart, if the recipe says so, this must be the right way"

"it must've been a typo or-"

"Nah they wouldn't make such a big mistake, relax, I've got it figured out. Now help me heave the bag into the bowl"

"No! Wait don't add it all-" you try to stop him, a fruitless attempt to salvage your meal.

The flour spills out.

When you eat your stone hard cookies, Vox might admit that maybe you were right:

"i think ... Maybe it was a typo actually"

"Ya think?" Would be your aggravated reply.

You end up eating at some fancy restaurant (He made the reservations even before you attempted your cooking experiment. He remembers how many previous attempts had turned out and has a fair estimation of both of yours cooking skills)

Sir pentious

You don't just cook food. You make complicated constructions out of it. It's a form of art. You always feel sorry to eat it at the end.

For one reason or another, your kitchen is stacked with overcomplicated machines. They are proud creations off your partner and are mostly designed to aid in cooking, in the most silly way (think- overcomplicated pan that flips the pancakes themselves).

Mostly. Apparently, Sir Pentious deemed it crucial to add murderous features to those machines and other kitchen utensils in your possession (think- the aforementioned pan can procure a mass destruction laser on demand).

Sometimes you would have competitions: who can make teh most complicated, aesthetically looking meal in record time. The results vary:

Sometimes you end up with a delicious two-course + desert meal, that took hours of preparation and you had a ton of fun.

And other times you end up with chaos and half burned food, that took 10 minutes to prepare. Because:

"You looked like you were nearly done, I had to rush!"

"You rushing made me rush!"

"I only rushed because you rushed!"

Both the times you end up with a completely demolished kitchen. Its a miracle neither of you lost any limbs!

But at the end of the day, you have a nice, fairly edible meal, with your partner and joke about how the preparation went. Praising each other saves:

"That was amazing, really. The way you simultaneously finished the sauce while being at the stove and cutting the tomatoes!"

and laughing at the fails:

"I cant believe it took you 30 minutes to prepare the sauce... You kept adding Sault, and then deciding that it was too salty so you had to add the other ingredients to balance it out!" You'd giggle remembering it

"But it hasss to be perfect" Pentious would hiss out.

"It was perfect" you'd reply with a smile "Everything was amazing, love"

A/n: This is the end, hopefully you enjoyed it!

[strwbabydoll]

husband!dad!Harry x fem!reader wc: 448

The smell of pancakes wafting through the air awoke Y/N from her peaceful sleep, rolling over to confirm her suspicions, she’s met with an empty spot, the blankets pushed back some leaving his side of the bed cold. She yawns as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes before standing up and throwing on her favorite fluffy robe. She walks out of her and Harry’s room and down the hall, walking slowly in an attempt not to make a sound so she can be nosy.

“Sh, bunny. We don’t wanna wake mommy yet.” Y/N can make out Harry’s voice as he gently scolds their youngest. She can hear her giggling as she responds with a quiet ‘yes sir’

Her curiosity gets the best of her causing her to step foot into the kitchen and seeing their two daughters and Harry standing by the counter, the youngest sporting some pancake batter on the tip of her nose which matches Harry who also seems to have some in his hair. She can’t help but to laugh causing them to turn to her, eager and happy smiles form on all their faces.

“Mummy! You’re supposed to be sleep!” Harry playfully scolds, standing back some so your daughters can give her a hug

“I was, just got cold without my heater cuddled up next to me.” She says with a laugh, hugging both of their kids tightly and giving them a soft kiss to their temples.

“G’morning my beautiful angels! Did you both sleep well?” They both nod excitedly before giving her another hug.

“Happy Mother’s Day mommy. We love you.” They say and she smiles brightly.

“Thank you my loves, I love you most.” She says and stands up only to ruffle their hair slightly. She walk over to Harry and he immediately embraces her in his arms.

“G’morning angel. Happy Mother’s Day my love.” He says and kisses her lightly only to be met with their kids yelling at them about how gross it is. They both laugh lightly at their children before Harry hands her a plate filled with various berries, a small stack of her favorite pancakes and eggs.

After they finish eating their breakfast, she attempts to wash her dish and Harry gently takes the plate while their children shake their heads, a small but determined serious face plastered on.

“You’re not raising a single finger to do anything my love. You do so much for us, let us do this for you. We have so much planned for you today. We love you.” Y/N’s heart swells with the amount of love she has for her amazing little family, and she can’t imagine what she would do without them.

[nurse-floyd]

First Mother’s Day

Warnings: none. Pure fluff.

Unbeta’d?

Spending your first Mother’s Day with Lando and your two favorite boys have a surprise for you.

Written for @urfavouriteanon sorry it’s a little late love!

You were no stranger to the drivers on the grid and the fans of F1 being Lando’s girlfriend and another person or animal who was also no stranger was your golden retriever Mack. If you were being honest with yourself you’d think he was more popular than you on the grid with how the drivers reacted whenever you brought him along. Mack, short for Mackenzie (Lando insisted it was for McLaren) quickly became a sensation on social media with the instagram account you’d made him that quickly gained almost as many followers as you overnight.

With no Grand Prix schedules over the Mother’s Day weekend, Lando found himself with a rare luxury of a day off at home with you. It was Mother’s Day in Monaco and while he’d already celebrated with his mother back when it was celebrated in the UK he was determined to make this an unforgettable first Mother’s Day for you now you were a dog mom.

As the sun began to stream through your window in your bedroom, Lando and little Mack had been up for a few hours scheming. Mack, with his tail wagging, seemed to understand the importance of the day as he followed Lando around everywhere while he got things set up for the day.

While you still slept soundly, Lando and your little puppy tiptoed around the kitchen planning your surprise. Lando had gotten a few recipes from his mum and had been secretly trying them out; he’d decided on fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon and freshly squeezed orange juice.

When you finally woke up, you rolled over to cuddle Lando but there was no sign of him. You looked to the bottom of your bed and hoped to see Mack curled up there but he wasn’t there either. Confused, you got out of bed and threw on your dressing gown before you moved towards the smell of cooking coming from the kitchen. There your heart melted when you saw Lando, covered in flour at the grill flipping a few pancakes and turning the bacon in the pan. Mack was right next to him as he looked up with him with wide eyes.

Lando’s head snapped up as Mack ran to your side and jumped up on you. You bent down and gave him a few kisses as he excitedly licked your face. Lando moved the pans of the grill as he joined the pair of you and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he said with a massive grin on his face.

Your heart melted at the effort both of your boys had put into making the day so special for you. As you moved to the sofa, Lando kept Mack behind and told you to get comfortable while he finished breakfast. A few minutes later you heard the tapping of feet against the hard floors as Mack trotted in with a bunch of flowers in his mouth, followed by Lando with two plates stacked with pancakes, bacon and maple syrup.

You would have been happy with the breakfast, flowers and time with your boys alone but Lando didn’t stop there. He had a whole day planned filled with your favorite activities. You started with a walk around one of your favorite trails to take Mack and a picnic Lando had set up, Mack happily bounded beside you the whole way and definitely enjoyed the fresh chicken Lando had packed special for the occasion.

As it began to get later, the three of you made your way home, exhausted but happy from the day spent together. You thought that was it and you would have been happy if it were, you hadn't even expected to be celebrating today.

As you walked towards Lando’s place you couldn’t help but notice the giddy smile he wore on his face. “What are you grinning at?”

“We’ve got one last surprise for you,” he replied as he gave Mack a scratch behind his ears.

“Lan, you’ve already given me so much and more. Today has been amazing,” you leant in to kiss his cheek, “thank you.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting the last surprise to be but when you walked into your living room your jaw dropped.

“Surprise,” he exclaimed with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

Your eyes lit up as you took in the scene before you. While you were out, he’d managed to arrange for your living room to be transformed into what essentially was a pillow fort, however it was much more grand than the kind you’d set up as a kid. The ground was covered in big pillows and fluffy blankets, there were fairy lights strung up around the room and candles set up around the room ready to be lit.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you took in the scene before you and you wanted nothing more than to spend the evening cuddled up with your two boys. Together you settled down with Mack curled in between you. Lando ordered pizza and you spent the evening watching rubbish movies and snacking on pizza and popcorn.

As the night wore on, the glow of TV and fairy lights around the room, you couldn’t help but feel so happy with your little family surrounded by warmth, happiness and their love for you. “Thank you Lan. Today has been amazing.”

Between the scenes of the film, Lando couldn’t help but look between you and Mack, his heart filled with love for the girl who’d stolen his heart. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to his side; he knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be than right there with the pair of you. He loved his little family and he was excited to spend more Mother’s Days with your whether that was as a dog mom or as mom and dad.

[engeorged]

Harry's Stag - Part One

As I stepped out of the taxi, the cool Amsterdam air washed over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. The canals, the narrow streets, the lively hum of the city—it was just what I needed. A lads’ weekend with my best mates, a chance to unwind before I marry the man of my dreams.

I glanced at the guys, a wave of affection washing over me. Jim and I had been mates since we were kids, practically growing up together. Tall, lean, with that rugged, outdoorsy vibe and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut through any nonsense, Jim was the steady one—the rock who always kept us grounded.

Banning and Noel came into our lives during university when we all played rugby together. Banning, with his quiet confidence and sharp mind, was always thinking a few steps ahead. He had this knack for coming up with a plan, making sure we stayed out of trouble and found our way home in one piece. Then there’s Noel—scruffy, blonde, and a bit shorter than the rest of us, but with a cheeky grin that could charm his way out of any mess he managed to get himself into. He was the joker of the group, ensuring we were never bored.

And then there’s me, Harry, the soon-to-be groom, the guy who’s somehow managed to land the most amazing man in the world. Jason is everything I’ve ever wanted—6’5, blonde, and brilliant, working in finance but with a heart of gold. He’s got this mix of confidence and kindness that makes me fall for him all over again every time I see him. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, and I know it.

But right now, all I want is to forget about the wedding planning and just enjoy this weekend with the guys. We’ve been through so much together—high school dramas, university antics, and everything life has thrown at us since. This weekend is our chance to let loose, to celebrate before everything changes.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as I woke up, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement. Today was going to be one for the books. After a quick shower, I headed downstairs with the guys to tackle the hotel’s breakfast buffet. I’d always seen buffets as a bit of a challenge—something I’d perfected during our rugby trips in uni when the lads and I would try to outdo each other with how much we could eat.

The spread was impressive: stacks of pancakes, sizzling sausages, crispy bacon, eggs done every way imaginable, and fresh pastries that looked like they’d come straight out of a bakery. My stomach growled in anticipation, and I grabbed a plate, ready to dive in.

Jim, always the early riser, was already at the buffet, piling food onto his plate. “Morning, mate,” he said with a grin. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“You know me,” I replied, grabbing a bit of everything and then some. “Never one to turn down a good breakfast.”

We settled at a table, and I started working through my plate, enjoying the food and the banter. Before I could even make a dent in my meal, Noel appeared with a plate stacked high with more food. “Mate, you’ve got to try these pancakes,” he said, dropping them onto my plate without waiting for a reply.

I laughed, not thinking much of it. “Alright, alright, keep them coming.”

Banning, ever the strategist, chimed in as he sat down. “You’re missing out on the scrambled eggs. Here, have some more,” he said, adding a generous portion to my plate.

As we ate, the conversation flowed, and I found myself reminiscing about our old rugby trips. “Remember that all-you-can-eat steakhouse in Leeds?” I asked, chuckling. “I think I put away enough to feed a small army that night.”

Jim nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Yeah, and you still managed to play the next day. You’ve always had a hollow leg when it comes to food.”

They kept the food coming, and I kept eating, not really noticing how often one of them would toss something extra onto my plate. I was too caught up in the nostalgia, the friendly competition from our uni days, and the general excitement of the weekend.

But as I started on my third plate, I felt a familiar tightness in my stomach. The kind that crept in during those old eating challenges when I’d push myself just a bit too far. My belly was starting to feel heavy, the waistband of my jeans pressing uncomfortably against my skin. I shifted in my seat, trying to ease the growing discomfort.

Still, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge—even a self-imposed one. I kept eating, even as my stomach began to bloat, pushing out slightly against my shirt. Each bite was a little slower, the food sitting heavily in my gut. I could feel my belly rounding out, the once-flat surface curving just a bit more with each mouthful.

“Feeling full yet?” Jim asked an innocent enough question, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“A bit,” I admitted, patting my stomach, which was now firm and slightly swollen. “But you know me—never one to quit while I’m ahead.”

The guys exchanged quick glances, subtle but not lost on me. I shrugged it off, thinking they were just reminiscing about old times like I was. But deep down, I had a nagging feeling that they were up to something. Still, I was too focused on the food and the fun to really care.

As I polished off the last of my pancakes, the tightness in my belly became more pronounced. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my slightly rounded stomach, feeling the pressure building inside. Regret started to creep in—a familiar sensation from those rugby days when I’d pushed my limits a bit too far. My shirt stretched a little tighter across my middle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I should’ve shown some restraint.

But then I caught myself. I’d eaten way more than this before, especially during those wild university days. This was nothing compared to some of the eating challenges I’d taken on—and won. A bit of bloat wasn’t going to slow me down. I could handle it, no problem.

With that in mind, I shrugged off the discomfort. It was just breakfast, after all, and we had a whole day ahead of us. “Right, lads,” I said, standing up and stretching, trying to shake off the heaviness in my gut. “What’s next on the agenda?”

Jim clapped me on the back, and I could feel the tension in my overstuffed stomach as he did. “Let’s head out and explore, mate. We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”

I nodded, determined to push through the fullness. I reminded myself that this was all part of the fun, and I could definitely handle more. With one last glance at the table, I followed the guys out the door, ready to see what the day had in store.

As we headed out into the bustling streets of Amsterdam, the food still sitting heavily in my stomach, I told myself I was just being paranoid. These guys were my best friends—they wouldn’t pull anything on me, especially not right before my wedding.

After finishing breakfast, we decided to take in some of the sights. Amsterdam was a beautiful city, and I was excited to explore it with my best mates. The weather was perfect—clear skies and a gentle breeze, making it an ideal day for wandering around.

We started by visiting some of the city's iconic spots, like the Anne Frank House and the Van Gogh Museum. But as we strolled along the canals and through the narrow streets, I could feel the heaviness in my belly from the massive breakfast easing a bit. By late morning, we found ourselves at one of the bustling local markets. The place was alive with vibrant colours, delicious smells, and the chatter of vendors selling everything from fresh produce to local delicacies. It was the kind of place where you could easily lose track of time, wandering from stall to stall, sampling the best that Amsterdam had to offer.

"Harry, check this out!" Banning called out, waving me over to a stall where a vendor was selling fresh stroopwafels, still warm from the griddle. He handed me one, and before I could even think about whether I was hungry, I found myself biting into the sweet, caramel-filled treat. It was delicious, the perfect balance of chewy and crunchy, and despite the fullness I still felt, I had to admit it was hard to resist.

"How about some cheese?" Noel chimed in, appearing beside me with a small platter of local Dutch cheeses. He popped a piece into my mouth before I could protest, grinning as I chewed. The rich, creamy flavours melted on my tongue, and I couldn’t help but smile at how good it tasted.

As we moved through the market, the guys made sure I didn’t miss a thing. Every few steps, they’d find something new for me to try—a slice of fresh apple pie here, a handful of chocolate-covered nuts there. They seemed to be in a competition to see who could find the most delicious treats, and I was the unwitting contestant.

“Harry, you’ve got to try these!” Jim called out, holding up a tray of poffertjes, tiny Dutch pancakes dusted with powdered sugar. He handed me the tray, and before I knew it, I was popping the fluffy little pancakes into my mouth, one after another.

With each bite, my belly grew heavier, the tightness from breakfast now back and mixed with the new wave of food. But the guys kept bringing me more, their excitement and enthusiasm contagious. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, watching as I dutifully sampled everything they put in front of me.

At one point, I realised I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. “Guys, I think I’m good for now,” I said, laughing nervously as I held up a hand to stop another treat from making its way into my mouth.

“Fuck that!” Banning said, laughing. “We’re just getting started. You’ve got to experience everything, mate!”

Despite my growing discomfort, I couldn’t help but go along with it. After all, this was supposed to be a weekend of indulgence, and I didn’t want to be the one to spoil the fun. So I kept eating, letting the guys guide me from stall to stall, each new bite adding to the growing pressure in my belly.

By the time we were ready to leave the market, I could barely keep track of everything I’d eaten. My stomach felt impossibly full, a heavy, warm weight pressing against my waistband. As we walked away, I noticed the guys exchanging amused glances, but they didn’t say anything, and I didn’t push it.

As we left the market, I was feeling stuffed from all the sampling, but the guys weren't done with me yet. Just as we were about to head back towards the city centre, Banning spotted a stall selling fresh pastries. The aroma of warm, buttery dough filled the air, making my mouth water despite the heaviness already sitting in my gut.

“Hold up, lads,” Banning said, veering off toward the stall. “We can’t leave without taking some of these with us!”

Before I could protest, he was at the counter, ordering a large bag of assorted pastries—croissants, danishes, and something that looked like a massive cinnamon roll, all warm and fresh from the oven.

“Here you go, Harry,” he said, shoving the bag into my hands with a grin. “Something to snack on as we walk.”

I chuckled, trying to hide my unease at the thought of eating anything more. “You sure you guys don’t want to share these?”

“Oh, we’ll help,” Jim said, but I noticed the sly smile on his face. “But you’ve got to lead the charge, mate. You’re the groom, after all.”

With no real way to refuse without seeming like a party pooper, I sighed and reached into the bag. The croissant I pulled out was soft and flaky, practically melting in my hands. I took a bite, the buttery richness spreading across my tongue, and I had to admit—it was damn good.

As we walked, I found myself nibbling on the pastries, more out of habit than hunger. The guys encouraged me with every bite, grabbing a pastry here and there, but always making sure the majority of them ended up in my hands.

By the time we reached our next destination, the bag was nearly empty, and I felt like I was carrying a lead weight in my belly. The waistband of my jeans was digging into my skin, and I subtly tried to adjust it to relieve some of the pressure. The guys, of course, were loving every minute of it, exchanging knowing looks as I dutifully finished off the last pastry. 

I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were up to something, but for now, all I could focus on was the heavy, bloated sensation in my gut. It was hard to believe I could still stand, let alone keep eating, but with the lads around, I knew there was no way I’d get out of it. 

After leaving the market with my belly full of pastries, we found ourselves wandering through the winding streets of Amsterdam again. The city was buzzing with life, tourists mingling with locals, and the smell of food and drink filled the air. My stomach was still groaning from all the food I'd packed into it, but when the guys suggested stopping for some beers, I figured it might help take the edge off.

“Let’s hit up a few local breweries,” Jim suggested, his eyes lighting up. “We can’t leave Amsterdam without trying some of the best beer in the world.”

I agreed, hoping that a few drinks might dull the ache in my overstuffed belly. The first brewery we hit was small and cosy, with wooden tables and an impressive selection of local brews. The guys ordered a round of pints, and I gladly accepted mine, taking a long, deep sip. The cold, bitter beer slid down my throat, and I could feel it spreading warmth through my chest.

The first pint went down easily, and for a moment, I almost forgot how full I was. The alcohol worked its magic, numbing the uncomfortable pressure in my stomach. The guys were in high spirits, laughing and joking as we finished our beers and moved on to the next brewery.

By the time we reached the third stop, I was starting to feel a bit more relaxed. The bloated sensation in my gut was still there, but the beer had taken the edge off. Each point seemed to settle on top of the food in my belly, adding to the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through my body.

The guys were keeping pace with me, ordering pints at each stop and making sure I always had one in my hand. I knew I should slow down, but the alcohol was doing its job, and I found myself caring less and less about how full I was. Instead, I focused on enjoying the moment, the camaraderie, and the laughter of my best friends.

At the fifth brewery, the drinks started to catch up with me. My head was buzzing, and the bloated feeling in my stomach was returning, more pronounced than before. I tried to keep up with the guys, but I could feel my belly straining against the waistband of my jeans, each sip of beer adding to the swelling pressure.

I glanced down at my gut, now noticeably rounder and heavier than it had been earlier in the day. The fullness was almost overwhelming, but the beers had numbed me enough that I could push through it, at least for a while longer.

Jim noticed me looking at my stomach and clapped me on the back. “You alright, mate? You’re keeping up like a champ!”

I managed a grin, even though I could feel the tightness in my belly with every breath. “Yeah, just feeling it a bit,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done with the tour,” Noel said, raising his glass. “Just a couple more, and then we can grab some food to soak it all up.”

The mention of food made my stomach churn, but I pushed the thought aside and lifted my pint in a toast. As we moved on to the final stop, I could feel the beers sloshing around inside me, mingling with the pastries and everything else I’d consumed that day. 

But the guys were right—the beers had dulled the ache, at least for now, and I was too buzzed to care about what might come next.

By the time we reached the final brewery on our tour, my belly had become an undeniable presence—both to me and, I suspected, to anyone who glanced in my direction. It felt like a boulder, heavy and firm, pressing outwards against the fabric of my shirt. The once-flat surface was now a taut, rounded dome, the skin stretched tight and smooth. Every step I took made it sway slightly, a reminder of just how much I’d eaten.

I rubbed my swollen middle, trying to ease the growing pressure. Suddenly, a deep belch forced its way up, loud and unexpected. The guys turned, grinning, and immediately erupted into cheers.

“There he is!” Noel laughed, clapping me on the back, which only made my belly slosh uncomfortably. “That’s the spirit, mate!”

Another belch rumbled up, and this time I didn’t even try to hold it back. The guys whooped and cheered even louder, egging me on as I laughed along with them.

“Keep ‘em coming!” Banning shouted, raising his pint in a mock toast.

I shook my head, grinning as yet another burp escaped me. The relief was temporary, though, as the pressure inside me continued to build. Every step made my belly jiggle slightly, and I could feel just how bloated I was becoming. The gas from all that beer wasn’t helping, either, making me feel even more stuffed than I already was.

I couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. The lads were loving it, and there was something satisfying about knowing I could still outdo them, just like in the old days. Even if my stomach felt like it was about to burst, the cheers and laughter made it all worth it.

Despite the discomfort, there was a part of me that was fascinated by how much my body had changed in just a few short hours. My normally lean frame had been overtaken by this massive, swollen belly, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer volume I’d managed to pack away.

The guys noticed, too. I caught Banning’s eye as he glanced at my gut, and he grinned, clearly impressed. “That’s one hell of a belly, Harry,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself today.”

Jim nodded in agreement, raising his pint in a toast. “To Harry’s belly,” he said with a laugh. “May it keep growing!”

The others joined in, their laughter filling the air as I gave a half-hearted chuckle. I could feel my stomach stretching even more as I took another sip of beer, the pressure building to a point that was almost unbearable.

As we finished our drinks, I leaned back in my chair, trying to find some relief from the tightness. My belly was now a prominent, round sphere, pressing outwards with a fullness that I couldn’t ignore. It was a strange mix of discomfort and pride—I’d never seen myself like this before, and despite the ache, there was something almost amusing about the sheer size of my belly.

By early afternoon, I was starting to feel the effects of our beer-filled morning. My head was buzzing pleasantly, and my steps were just a bit slower as we made our way through the bustling streets. I was thinking about suggesting a quick stop back at the hotel to freshen up, but before I could, Noel was already leading us toward our next destination.

“We’ve got a special lunch spot lined up, Harry,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Proper local place. None of that touristy crap.”

I was too relaxed to argue, letting him steer me down a side street and into a large, rustic-looking restaurant. The inside was all dark wood and heavy beams, with long communal tables and the rich smell of roasting meat filling the air. My stomach rumbled in spite of the heaviness I was already feeling, and I figured a good meal might help soak up some of the beer.

We found a spot at the end of one of the tables, and Noel didn’t even bother with menus. “We’ll take four of your specials,” he told the waitress with a wink, and she nodded, jotting it down before disappearing into the kitchen.

I leaned back in my chair, glancing around at the other diners. Most of them were locals, digging into plates piled high with food, glasses of cider clinking together in toasts. It was lively, warm, and exactly the kind of place that made you feel at home, even halfway across the world.

“So, what’s the special?” I asked, eyeing Noel suspiciously.

“Wait and see,” he grinned, taking a long pull from the glass of cider that had just been set in front of him. “You’re gonna love it.”

Moments later, the food arrived, and my eyes widened as the waitress set a huge platter in front of each of us. There, in the centre, was a whole roasted chicken, crispy and golden, surrounded by a mountain of fresh bread and a full litre of cider.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered, staring at the feast. It looked incredible, but there was no way I could finish all that. “You guys trying to kill me?”

Banning smirked, already tearing into his bread. “Consider it a challenge.”

“Come on, Harry,” Jim chimed in, pulling a hunk of chicken off the bone. “You said you were hungry this morning.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean all day,” I laughed, even as I reached for my fork. The smell of the roasted chicken was too tempting to resist, and I figured I could at least make a dent in it.

We dug in, the conversation flowing easily between bites of juicy chicken and sips of the strong, dry cider. The bread was warm and crusty, perfect for soaking up the rich drippings from the chicken, and despite my full stomach, I found myself going back for more, over and over.

The guys were relentless, though, nudging the bread my way whenever I slowed down, refilling my cider glass before I’d even finished it. Every time I thought I was done, Jim would carve off another piece of chicken and drop it onto my plate, or Noel would push the bread basket back toward me with a grin.

“You’ve got to try this with the cider,” Noel insisted, handing me a slice of bread slathered in the drippings. “Trust me, it’s worth it.”

I took the bread, biting into it with a mix of enjoyment and trepidation. It was delicious, of course, but I was starting to reach the point where every bite felt like a struggle. My stomach was stretched tight, the combination of beer, cider, and food weighing me down.

But there was something infectious about their enthusiasm, the way they kept the mood light and fun, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no. These were my best mates, and they were making sure I had the time of my life. What was a little discomfort in the grand scheme of things?

“Only the best for you,” Noel added with a wink, though there was a glint in his eye that made me wonder just how much more they had planned for me.

After finishing the meal, I leaned back in my chair, feeling utterly stuffed. My usually firm belly was now uncomfortably stretched, the tightness pressing against my shirt. The button on my jeans felt like it was about to pop, and I had to loosen my belt a notch to alleviate some of the pressure.

The full feeling wasn’t just in my stomach but seemed to radiate through my entire body. Every bite of the juicy chicken and every piece of bread had added to the bloated sensation, and the cider had only intensified it. My stomach was protruding noticeably, an unfamiliar softness replacing the tight abs I’d worked so hard to maintain. It felt heavy, like a weight pressing down from within.

I looked around at my friends, trying to ignore the discomfort, but the sight of their grins and the way they patted their own full bellies didn’t help. “I think I might have overdone it,” I admitted with a chuckle, rubbing my distended stomach.

“No way, mate,” Jim said, giving me a friendly thump on the back. “You’re just getting into the spirit of things.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to stay in top form,” Noel added, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You don’t want to be the one to miss out.”

Despite the lighthearted teasing, I could barely move, feeling the fullness with every breath. I glanced down at my bulging belly, the fabric of my shirt straining against the roundness. It was a far cry from the trim figure I was used to seeing.

As we finally left the restaurant, I had to walk slowly, my steps deliberate and careful. Each movement reminded me of just how much I’d eaten, and I knew that if I didn’t get some relief soon, the discomfort would only grow. But with the guys still in high spirits, I knew the day was far from over, and whatever they had planned next, I’d have to muster the energy to keep up.

As we left the restaurant, the afternoon started to blur together. The combination of food and cider had left me pleasantly tipsy, and the usual sharpness of my thoughts had softened. My bloated stomach felt heavy, but the excitement of the city kept me moving, albeit at a slower pace.

After the epic lunch, I was convinced I couldn't possibly eat another bite. My stomach was so full and bloated that it felt like a lead weight was strapped to me, each step making my distended gut jiggle slightly under my shirt.

We started walking again, heading toward the canals for a leisurely afternoon tour. The sun was shining, reflecting off the water as we strolled along the cobblestone streets. I tried to focus on the sights—the charming, narrow buildings, the boats gliding by—but the heavy, stuffed feeling in my gut was impossible to ignore. Every step made me acutely aware of just how much space my belly was taking up, stretching my shirt tight across the firm, rounded expanse.

We hadn’t gone far before we passed a street vendor selling fresh Bitterballen. The savoury aroma of deep-fried goodness filled the air, making my stomach rumble despite the fullness. Bitterballen are traditional Dutch snacks, deep-fried balls filled with a rich, creamy beef or veal ragout, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. They’re often enjoyed with a dollop of mustard.

Noel, ever the enthusiast, was already haggling with the vendor before I could even process what was happening. “Harry’s got to try these!” he said, handing over a few euros and grabbing a serving of the hot, golden balls.

“Mate, I’m so full I can barely move,” I protested weakly, but Noel just grinned and handed me a paper cone filled with Bitterballen.

“Come on, you’ve got room for one more,” he said, winking. “It’s part of the experience.”

I took the cone and popped one of the Bitterballen into my mouth. The crispy exterior gave way to a rich, creamy filling that was both indulgent and comforting. Despite the tightness in my belly, the flavour was irresistible. With each bite, I could feel the food settling heavily on top of everything else I’d eaten, adding to the relentless pressure in my gut.

We continued along the canal, and it wasn’t long before Jim spotted another vendor—this time selling churros dusted with cinnamon sugar. He practically sprinted over, eager to buy a bag for me before Banning could get there first.

“Here you go, Harry,” Jim said, thrusting the warm bag into my hands. “You’ve got to keep your energy up!”

I stared at the churros, my stomach groaning in protest at the mere thought of eating more. But the guys were watching me expectantly, their excitement palpable. I couldn’t let them down, so I forced myself to take a bite.

The churro was crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and coated with just the right amount of cinnamon sugar. It was delicious, but as I swallowed, I felt my belly swell even more, the tightness becoming almost unbearable. Each bite seemed to expand my gut further, stretching the skin to its limits.

“Harry, you’re a machine!” Banning laughed, clapping me on the back as I forced down the last of the churros. “I don’t know how you’re doing it.”

Neither did I. My stomach was now so full that it was starting to feel rock-hard, a firm, rounded dome that pushed out from under my shirt with every breath. The waistband of my jeans was cutting painfully into my sides, and I could feel my skin pulling tight over the swollen mass of my belly. I wanted to stop, to sit down and let my overstuffed gut settle, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

We passed another vendor, this one selling warm, cheesy croquettes, and before I could even protest, Banning had bought a handful and was offering them to me.

“Last ones, I promise,” he said with a mischievous grin, though I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was far from finished.

I took one, biting into the crispy, gooey centre, and immediately felt another surge of fullness. My stomach was now a tight, distended ball, and each bite made it feel like I was stretching it to the breaking point. But the guys kept egging me on, practically shoving the croquettes into my hands as we walked.

By the time we finally finished the canal tour, my belly was truly enormous—a swollen, overfilled sphere that jutted out in front of me, heavy and round. The tightness was almost unbearable, and I could barely stand up straight, the weight of my gut pulling me forward with every step. 

And yet, despite it all, I couldn’t help but laugh along with the guys, the absurdity of the situation hitting me. My friends were practically fighting over who got to feed me next, and I was helpless to stop them. My once-lean frame had been transformed into something out of a cartoon, my shirt now riding up to expose the pale, stretched skin of my bloated belly.

As we headed back toward the city centre, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. The day was still young, and the guys seemed determined to see just how much more they could cram into me. And as much as I wanted to protest, I knew deep down that I wasn’t going to stop them.

By the time the afternoon sun started to dip, I was struggling. Every step felt like a monumental effort, the heavy, swollen mass of my belly swaying in front of me, throwing off my balance. It had gone from feeling full and stretched to being outright painful, a tight, solid ball that was almost too much to bear. The guys were still in high spirits, laughing and joking as we walked, but I was finding it hard to keep up. 

"Guys," I groaned, finally coming to a stop and placing a hand on my distended gut. "I need a break. Can we head back to the hotel for a bit? Just a quick snooze, let my stomach settle."

I was expecting some pushback, but surprisingly, they all nodded in agreement. Maybe they could see the strain on my face, or maybe they were just ready for a break too. Either way, we turned in the direction of the hotel, and I started to imagine the sweet relief of lying down and letting my poor, overworked belly rest.

But of course, it wasn’t going to be that simple.

As we rounded a corner, we passed a small, bustling shop with a line of people snaking out the door. The smell of fried potatoes and various toppings filled the air, and Jim’s eyes lit up when he spotted the sign.

“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing my arm and pointing toward the shop. “This is the place I’ve been telling you about! They make these famous fries with all sorts of toppings. We’ve got to try it.”

I felt a knot of dread tighten in my already cramped stomach. “Jim, I’m seriously about to burst here. I don’t think I can fit anything else in.”

But Jim wasn’t having it. “Come on, Harry, you can’t come all the way to Amsterdam and not try this. It’s part of the experience! We’ll just get one big platter to share, no big deal.”

Banning and Noel were already nodding along enthusiastically, and before I could argue any further, they were steering me toward the door. Inside, the place was a fry-lover’s paradise—massive trays of golden fries, each topped with a ridiculous amount of extras, from melted cheese to pulled pork, jalapeños, and creamy sauces.

We ordered the biggest platter they had, a monstrosity as wide as the table itself, piled high with fries and every topping imaginable. It was the sort of thing meant for a group of a dozen, not four guys who had already been eating all day. The sight of it alone made my stomach lurch in protest.

I tried to push back. “Guys, seriously, this is insane. I can’t eat all this.”

But Banning grinned at me, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ll help, don’t worry. But you’ve got to at least give it a shot, Harry. Think of it as a challenge.”

I knew there was no way out, not with all three of them looking at me like that. So, with a resigned sigh, I picked up a fork and dug in.

The first few bites were delicious, the crispy fries and rich toppings a perfect combination. But with every mouthful, I could feel my stomach stretching further, pushing against my waistband and straining the limits of my shirt. The tightness that had been a constant presence all day was now bordering on unbearable, a pressure that made it hard to focus on anything other than the sheer fullness of my gut.

Still, the guys kept urging me on, and somehow, I kept going. They were making a show of eating their share, but it was clear that most of the food was ending up in front of me. Every time I slowed down, they’d shove another forkful of loaded fries in my direction, laughing and cheering me on like it was some sort of competition.

“Harry’s taking the lead!” Noel shouted at one point, and the others whooped in agreement. 

I felt like I was in a daze, barely able to comprehend what I was doing as I continued to eat. My belly was now so bloated that it was pressing against the edge of the table, a round, firm dome that seemed to be growing larger with each bite. My shirt was stretched tight across the distended curve of my gut, and I could feel the seams straining with every breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I dropped my fork, unable to eat another bite. The platter was mostly empty, but my stomach felt like it was about to burst. I leaned back in my chair, groaning as the pressure in my belly intensified. It was a strange mix of pain and satisfaction, the kind of fullness that made it impossible to do anything but sit there and let my body digest.

The guys, of course, were loving it. They were all grins and high-fives, clearly proud of themselves for pushing me to this point.

“You’re a legend, Harry,” Banning said, clapping me on the back with a laugh. “I don’t know how you did it.”

I didn’t either. All I knew was that my belly was now so swollen and distended that I could barely move. It jutted out in front of me like a solid, round ball, the skin stretched tight and smooth over the massive bulge. I could feel every inch of it, the fullness pressing down on my lungs and making it hard to breathe, let alone think.

As we finally left the fry shop and started heading back to the hotel, I could barely keep up, my gait slow and awkward as I tried to accommodate the heavy mass of my gut. It felt like I was carrying a bowling ball strapped to my stomach, the weight of it pulling me forward with every step.

And yet, as uncomfortable as I was, there was a part of me that couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of my belly. I’d never been this full in my life, never even imagined it was possible to eat this much. It was almost impressive in a way, and despite everything, I found myself laughing along with the guys as we made our way back to the hotel.

By the time we finally made it back to the hotel, I was exhausted. My belly was so full and heavy that each step felt like a challenge, and the thought of just lying down was the only thing keeping me going. As we entered the room, the guys were still buzzing with energy, laughing and recounting the day’s events, but I could hardly focus on their words. All I could think about was getting out of my too-tight clothes and giving my aching stomach some relief.

I headed straight for the bathroom, barely pausing to acknowledge the banter going on behind me. Closing the door, I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath as I let the tension drain from my shoulders. Then, with a grunt of discomfort, I began the laborious task of peeling off my clothes.

First, I unbuttoned my jeans, which had been digging into my sides for hours. The moment the button popped open, my belly surged forward, free from its confines at last. I couldn’t help but gasp slightly at the sensation—the relief was immediate, but the sheer weight of my gut was startling. I tugged the waistband down over my hips, letting the jeans fall to the floor, before yanking off my shirt, which had been stretched to its limits.

Once I was finally free of my clothes, I turned to face the mirror, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks. My belly—normally flat and firm—was now a completely different shape, swollen and rounded out in front of me like a tightly inflated balloon. The curve of it was almost shocking, jutting out so far that it seemed impossible it was my own body. My skin was stretched taut over the massive dome, with the light fur that usually covered my stomach now spread thin and sparse across the smooth, distended surface. 

I reached out tentatively, running a hand over the swell of my gut. It felt solid and unyielding, the kind of fullness that left no room for anything else. My fingers brushed against the fine hair that coated my belly, usually soft but now pulled taut over the curve, emphasising the tightness of my skin. The fur seemed almost out of place on such a massively bloated belly, a reminder of how much my body had changed in just a few short hours.

I took a step back, turning slightly to see my profile, and my eyes widened at the sight. The curve of my belly was even more pronounced from the side, a heavy, rounded bulge that hung low and full. It almost didn’t look real—like something out of a cartoon, exaggerated and impossible. And yet, there it was, a testament to just how much I had consumed.

I stood there for a moment, just staring at myself in the mirror. I knew I’d eaten a lot, but seeing the evidence in front of me like this was almost surreal. I couldn’t believe how much I’d managed to pack away—how much my belly had expanded to accommodate it all. I looked like I’d swallowed a beach ball whole, my normally lean frame now dominated by this massive, swollen gut.

A mix of shock and disbelief washed over me. I’d seen my belly bloated before—college eating challenges had often left me stuffed, but never like this. This was on another level entirely. I could feel the weight of it, the sheer fullness pressing down on me, making it hard to stand upright. Every movement made my gut jiggle slightly, a constant reminder of how tightly packed it was with food.

Despite the discomfort, there was something almost fascinating about it. The sight of my body so utterly transformed, my belly swollen beyond anything I’d ever thought possible, was strangely compelling. It was as if I’d crossed some invisible line, entered a new territory where my body was no longer my own but something else entirely—something massive and insatiable.

I ran my hand over the curve of my gut one more time, feeling the tightness beneath my palm, the way my skin stretched over the fullness. Then, with a deep breath, I turned away from the mirror and headed back into the room, where the guys were waiting. 

I stumbled out of the bathroom, still in a daze from the sight of my bloated belly, and made my way to the bed. My legs were heavy, my body protesting with every step as the weight of my overstuffed gut dragged me down. As soon as I reached the edge of the bed, I let myself fall backward, the mattress groaning beneath me as I sprawled out on top of the covers. The sensation of finally lying down was a relief beyond words. My belly, round and tight, stretched upward, and I could feel the strain in my skin as it tried to accommodate the ridiculous amount of food I’d packed away.

I let out a long, contented sigh, resting a hand on the taut dome of my stomach. It was firm to the touch, barely giving under the pressure of my fingers. My eyes drifted shut, and for a moment, I was lost in the sensation of being so full, so heavy, so utterly stuffed.

The sound of laughter pulled me from my reverie. The guys were still buzzing with energy, moving around the room as they started to get ready for whatever was coming next. Jim was the first to strip off his shirt, revealing a flat but slightly rounded belly—nothing compared to mine, but still showing signs of the indulgence we’d all participated in today. He patted it with a grin, turning to show it off to Banning and Noel.

"Look at this," Jim said, chuckling. "I’m usually flat as a board, but today... man, I’m starting to show a little gut. Must have been all those pastries at the market."

Banning, who was already down to his boxers, laughed and flexed his own stomach, which was a bit bloated  than usual but nowhere near as distended as mine. "Yeah, I’m feeling it too. I think I’m still carrying around half that platter of fries we demolished earlier."

Noel joined in, lifting his shirt to reveal his own slightly swollen belly. "Same here. It’s like we’ve all turned into little food balloons, but I gotta say, Harry definitely wins the prize for the biggest gut." 

They all turned to look at me, sprawled out on the bed with my massive, bloated belly on full display. The contrast between their smaller, slightly rounded stomachs and my own overstuffed gut was almost comical. I looked like I’d swallowed a whole watermelon, while they’d only nibbled on a few snacks.

Jim grinned and gave his own belly another pat. “How are you even still conscious after all that? You’ve gotta be on the verge of passing out, mate.”

I could only groan in response, too full and too tired to form a coherent reply. My belly felt like it was about to burst, every breath a reminder of how far I’d pushed myself today. But despite the discomfort, there was a strange sense of camaraderie in the room, a bond forged through our shared gluttony.

The guys continued to joke and laugh, comparing their own bellies and teasing me about mine, but I barely heard them. All I could focus on was the heavy, aching fullness that filled every inch of my midsection. I rubbed my hand over the curve of my stomach, trying to soothe the tightness, but it was no use. I was beyond stuffed, my gut stretched to its absolute limit.

Even so, as I lay there, I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. I had no idea how I’d let myself get talked into eating so much, but in some weird way, it had been worth it. The guys were having the time of their lives, and despite my current state, I couldn’t deny that a part of me was enjoying it too.

For part two

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[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 3

Chapter three - Raspberry

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Sorry it took so long to update this. I tagged everyone who showed interest in future parts and/or asked to be tagged. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

Jamie sleeps like a rock. It’s a new discovery for (Y/N) as she tries to unravel herself from his tight grip. She doesn’t remember falling asleep cuddled up to each other, in fact, she doesn’t remember falling asleep at all. It’s like one moment they were talking about the baby and the next she wakes up to the sun pouring in through the window and Jamie’s quiet snores filling the room. And his arms wrapped around her like a vice. 

God that man is clingy. 

And, whereas with any other man, this would scare her off, there is something about Jamie that makes the whole thing endearing.

Maybe it’s the fact that they are not dating, not even trying to. It takes some of the pressure off. All she has to be is a good mum and a good friend and while those two things are hard enough as they are, at least there are no romantic feelings involved, no expectations to uphold when it comes to being a girlfriend, a partner. 

Jamie sleeps like a rock, doesn’t even so much as twitch when she slips from his grip and rests his arm back on the side of the bed she used to occupy just moments earlier. Even the squeaky floorboard doesn’t wake him as she makes her way downstairs. 

A sweet smell permeates the air and makes (Y/N)’s mouth water. This heightened sense of smell is both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. Most smells make her nauseous these days. Not today though, this one just makes her hungry. It smells of sugar and vanilla and all things sweet and warm.

Simon’s smiling face greets her as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. She wonders if this man ever stops smiling. He’s the personification of a ray of sunshine.

“Good morning, come have a seat. I’m making waffles.” 

Waffles. (Y/N) can’t remember the last time someone made her waffles for breakfast. Dad did, sometimes when she was little, and stayed with him for the weekend. But then the waffle iron broke and he never got around to buying a new one. So pancakes and bacon it was. Beans sometimes. Sausages if he was feeling particularly fancy.

“I’d love some, thank you! It smells amazing.” 

“Yeah? Oh, thank god. I was afraid the smell would be too much and make you feel sick. Only realized that after I poured in half the vial of vanilla essence though.” 

The sheepish look on his face puts a smile on (Y/N)’s face. It’s nice someone cares about those little things.

“Never had to deal with anyone pregnant so I don’t know these things but I had a quick Google last night and it says 8 weeks means a heightened sense of smell. Also, the baby is the size of a Raspberry.” 

If she didn’t know any better, (Y/N) would swear that Jamie and Simon must share some DNA. Both of them so clumsy in the way they care but infinitely endearing. 

“Yeah, Raspberry or Blueberry or Kidney Bean. So tiny." 

“Crazy isn’t it? To think it’s gonna be a proper human soon enough.” 

She nods her head in agreement as Simon places a plate stacked with two thick fluffy waffles before her. 

“You’re telling me. I know this is all happening inside my body and it’s still insane to think about. Doesn’t feel real.” 

Simon regards her with soft eyes. There is warmth in there but something else. Something she can’t quite place. Georgie had the same look last night. Like they know more than she does. And fuck, maybe they do. They’ve done this before. Lived enough of life to know what the hell they are doing. 

“Are you alright? “

(Y/N) was never big on sharing her feelings with anyone, let alone strangers. Life, and both her parents really, have taught her that talking about your feelings only makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable usually ends in pain. So what you do is you take your insecurities, your fears, your sadness and you put it in a tiny little box and then you put on the lid. You tie a ribbon around it with a neat bow on top and then you take that box that holds your feelings and you bury it. And then you spend your whole life living like the protagonist in an Edgar Allan Poe story and that box becomes a beating heart under the floorboards of your life. 

And the beating never ever stops. 

“Sure. I’m good.” 

She thinks he knows she’s bluffing but lets it go anyway. Opening up to Jamie is scary enough, takes up enough of her bravery. Simon is lovely and if she was another person altogether she’d love to share her worries with him, he seems like the best listener. She’s not someone else though, she is just herself and she can’t bring herself to talk. 

“Okay. Just want you to know that if you need anything or — anyone. Georgie and I are always there to help. I know I’m not Jamie’s real dad but I do feel like that is my son. I don’t have children of my own and I only met Jamie when he was a pre-teen already so I don’t know much about babies but if you guys let me I am sure I can be a phenomenal grandad. My mum always used to say I was already born a little old man so this feels like I finally get a chance to be what I was always supposed to be. My time to shine has come.” 

A harmony of their laughter fills the kitchen. God, is this whole family made up of the sweetest people on this entire planet? Do they make them in a damn factory or something?

“I will hold you to it. When the baby is screaming and I need some sleep I’ll come drop them off with you then.” 

“Oh, I’ll be ready with some bedtime stories and lullabies.” 

“You are sweet, Simon. And I really appreciate the offer. God knows Jamie and I don’t know the first thing about being parents so we can take all the help we can get.” 

“Do you want to hear a secret?” 

“Sure.” 

“No one knows what they’re doing. As long as you try your best that’s all that matters. Kids are forgiving if they know you care.” 

People always say that but there’s a little part of (Y/N) that believes those words to be untrue. Did her mum try her best and this was the outcome? Or did she just not care to do more, to be better? And which of those scenarios would be worse? 

Jamie’s sleepy voice pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. “Morning, love.” 

He places a soft kiss on the top of her head. So sure, so unbothered as if they do this all the time. Is this what it feels like? Being able to show your feelings and show affection without wondering what consequences it may bring? Without fearing that it makes you too vulnerable? 

His hand finds her stomach and gives it a soft rub “And good morning to you, baby.” 

It will never not be endearing to her to hear him talk to the baby. And neither will the way he pronounces the word ever lose its magic to her. That is his pride and joy there. His babeh. 

“Aw Waffles, sweet!” 

As Jamie plops down next to Simon and stuffs his face with vanilla waffles, leaving a slight dust of powdered sugar on his lips, (Y/N) is certain that all his worries are unjustified. 

Jamie is all his dad and none of his father. Every inch and every fiber of him is a product of the love that Georgie and Simon have raised him with. He is them in the way he smiles and cares and the way he feels joy so freely and unabashedly.

And if only a smidge, only a sprinkle of that love is extended towards her child, that kid is gonna grow up so adored it won’t know where to put all of that love. 

“Think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Like pregnancy barf or meeting mum nausea? “

Leave it to Jamie to put a smile on her face even when the world around her seems to crumble and fall. 

“You gotta stop calling it that.” 

“Alright, but you have to tell me which one it is so I know if I should hand you a barf bag or give you a pep talk. I’m getting awfully good at them if I dare say so myself. Learned a lot from Ted, yeah?” 

If this was just the pregnancy making her nauseous everything would be so much easier. Ginger drops and rest would do the trick. But this is so much worse. This sharp feeling cursing through her veins, gnawing at her bones and devouring her like a hungry wolf. There truly is no one capable of breaking your heart like your own mother.

“Let me hear that pep talk then.” 

As he navigates the car up the long driveway, flanked by big ornate mansions with brass iron fences and perfectly symmetrical hedges, Jamie regards (Y/N) from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, well you don’t need to worry. Things are gonna be just fine. You know why?” 

“Why?” 

“Cause mums love me and middle-aged women love me. It’s cause they think I’m charming,” he says and glances at (Y/N) for a second. That radiant cheeky smile of his taking over his features. Oh, she hopes their kid gets his smile. “Which I am.” 

“So charming, really.” 

“You’d know,” Jamie replies and nods his head in the direction of her belly.

His laughter echoes through the car as she gives him a soft slap against the shoulder. There’s just something about Jamie that makes life feel a little lighter, a little more effortless. Even if it's just for a moment, just pretend. It does take the heavy weight off of (Y/N)’s heart for a second. 

The car rolls to a stop in front of the gorgeous white house (Y/N) pointed out to him when they turned into the street. The lawn looks immaculate, the hedges are trimmed to perfection. This plastic palace all grand and gaudy. It never felt like home even though (Y/N) spent most of her life growing up in these very halls. 

But really what is it that makes a house a home? Love and laughter and memories you want to return to. This is just four walls and a roof. 

“Hey,” Jamie speaks up and places a hand gently on hers. “It’ll be alright but even if it won’t it will.” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean — look if she reacts badly, that sucks. But you have me, yeah? Always. Me and Rebecca and my Mum and Simon. Once we tell them I know the team will be obsessed with our baby, they’ll love her so much.” 

“Or him.” 

“Or him, yes. Ted is going to freak out, I know he’s going to want to hang out with our kid all the time. Roy? He’s already the best old geriatric uncle the world has ever seen. He won’t admit it but he’ll be really happy for us. Sam, Issac, Keeley, Higgins? All of them will be just a call away if we need help. I’m not sure about coach Beard though, he scares me not gonna lie.” 

“I think he’s hilarious actually.” 

“It’s because you’re smart and understand his jokes.” 

“You’re smart too!” 

“Nah, I just talk a lot and hope I end up saying the right thing. Anyway, what I mean is, this is your mum, yes, but in the big picture, she is just one person. And if she doesn’t love our baby there are so many other people who will. This baby will never, not for one second have to wonder if they are loved, because they are. So much.” 

And as easy as it is for him to make (Y/N) laugh, as easy it seems to be to make her cry. Good tears though. Tears that say “I believe you that things are going to be alright”. Tears that say “thank you.”

“Jamie Tartt, of all the footballers that could’ve accidentally knocked me up, I am so glad it was you. You are going to be the best dad.” 

“And you’re already the best mum. Well tied with my mum, obviously.” 

“Obviously.” 

(Y/N)’s childhood home feels cold, Jamie notices. There are hardly any pictures and those that are there are posed and awkward. He can tell it’s (Y/N) on those pictures but they don’t feel like her. There is no happiness in them, no joy. None of that sarcastic charm she exudes. He passes by a lifetime of being told how to sit and how to smile and what to do and probably what to say as well. It makes him feel miserable. And it puts things into perspective. It makes sense now, her worries and fears. If you grow up surrounded by nothing but the cold you eventually start wondering if you’ll ever be capable of creating warmth.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” (Y/N)'s Mum asks as she sits down at the head of the table. There’s something scary about this woman. She demands attention like a god-given right. She extends nothing in return. Her eyes are sharp and intense. It makes Jamie feel like she can see right through him down to all his insecurities and faults. She’s fucking terrifying. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

He hates the way (Y/N)’s voice has become so small and timid ever since they stepped foot into this mansion. Hates that there is nothing he can do to make it better and take this weight off of her. Nothing but be there. So he does that at least. Be there in all the ways he can be.

It’s so silly really, how his heart beats just a little faster when he touches her hand underneath the table. When she welcomes the soft gesture. When she returns his gentle squeeze. And when she links her fingers with his. 

So silly. Stupid little treacherous heart.

“Well, I gathered that much. I just wish you would’ve called ahead of time so I could’ve made some food.” 

“Made some food? Since when do you cook?”

The look her mother throws at (Y/N) could freeze a lake solid. It’s mean and chilling and Jamie wishes he never would’ve pushed (Y/N) to come here. Hates himself a little for putting her in this situation.

“I did attend several cooking classes last year. See, if you’d visit me a bit more often you’d know that.” 

And if she wasn’t such a raging bitch, maybe (Y/N) would visit her more often, Jamie thinks. Fortunately, he’s gotten much better at impulse control lately, well ever since Ted arrived really. The old Jamie would’ve blurted out those thoughts with no care of any consequences.

The old Jamie probably wouldn’t have stepped up to be a dad though. 

“Anyway, I would’ve liked a little warning. Especially if you’re bringing someone.” 

Being at the receiving end of that icy glare feels awful, Jamie decides as (Y/N)’s mother regards him with a mix of disdain and humor. Her eyes sparkle with a sense of smug superiority. Jamie is used to people underestimating him. They think he’s stupid. Some dumb footballer with straw filling the places where a brain should be. Quite honestly it doesn’t bother him, never had. He’s the first to admit that he can be dumb when it comes to certain things. He’s no poet and he has never been particularly good at math. But this woman and the way she looks at him rubs him the wrong way. She knows nothing about him and yet she thinks she’s got him all figured out. Flesh and bones and all. 

“Yeah uh, sorry about that. It was a spontaneous thing really. We would’ve called — “

“Sure, whatever you say. James was it?” 

His name sounds like venom dripping from her lips. James. He hasn’t been James since the moment he was born and Georgie first kissed his tiny head and whispered “You’re my little Jamie.” Not that he remembers that but it’s a story his mom has recounted to him many times.

“Jamie, yes.” 

“Right, Jamie.”

An uncomfortable silence settles upon the room. It crawls into the cracks and crevices of their conversation. It spreads and festers and discomfort grows around them like mold on damp walls. 

“Mum, we’re here because I wanted to tell you I’m pregnant.” 

The confession shoots through the silence like a bullet. Cuts through it like a knife through a flimsy ribbon. If this was a movie they’d put in a freeze frame or underlay the scene with some dramatic musical score. But this is real life and it comes with no editing and no soundtrack.

No, it just comes with a bellowing laugh from (Y/N)’s mother. It’s not the kind of laughter that makes you want to laugh along. The kind that makes you feel like sunshine has erupted inside your ribcage and wraps you in a warm blanket. It’s not like (Y/N)’s laugh. This one is mocking. It’s ridiculous. It’s meant to make you feel small and dumb. It breaks his heart to know this is the laughter (Y/N) grew up with. 

“You can not be serious. Pregnant?” 

A short, quiet “Yes.” leaves (Y/N)’s lips. Jamie gently squeezes her hand in return. I am here. He says. I will always be here. She squeezes back. He hopes it means “I know.”

“You stupid little girl.” 

(Y/N)’s hand grabs his more tightly. A lifeline to hold on to. Crescent moon shapes stamped into his skin. But if this is the price he’ll have to pay in order to be a good partner in all of this then he’ll pay it 10 times over. Of all the things in this world, all the ways to describe her, stupid is not one Jamie would ever think of. 

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that.” 

Maybe a little bit of old Jamie is still there. The good parts. The protective, opinionated parts maybe. Not reckless but brave.

“She is my daughter and I will talk to her as I very well please. But you’re right. She is not a little girl, she’s a grown woman. Which makes this even worse. You should know better, (Y/N). Getting pregnant by some — some guy.”

“Some guy? Excuse me?” 

“Well you’re not her boyfriend, are you? You are just some guy with no obligation to her. And if you wake up one day and realize what a massive mistake you made then you can just leave. She’ll be stuck being a mother forever.” 

It boils his blood to hear those vicious words hurled at him and (Y/N). Mistake? Sure this baby wasn’t planned but they’re not a mistake. Not for one single second did Jamie think of his child as a mistake. A surprise. A shock even. But never a mistake.

“I know you don’t know me and quite honestly I don’t think I want to know you either but I can tell you one thing. That is my baby and I love it now and I will always love it. It is not a mistake. You can judge me, you can judge her and you can judge our decisions but stop talking about my child like that. That is just uncalled for. I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you but I was here from the moment (Y/N) told me she was pregnant and I will be here for the rest of my life. That is a promise.” 

She has the audacity to scoff at him and completely ignore everything he just said. Instead, she moves her cold hard gaze towards (Y/N).

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations? Well, you’re not getting those here. Your father would be so — “ 

Before she can finish the sentence a shrill screeching sound cuts her off as (Y/N) pushes away from the dining table.

“I gotta get out of here.” 

“Oh, what is this now? You’re just going to leave because you don’t get the reaction you hoped for? I can pretend if that’s what you want me to —”

“Mum, I am not running. I need to go! I am nauseous as fuck and if you don’t want me to empty my stomach onto your dining table just let me leave. I didn’t come here asking for your approval, I just thought you should know you’re going to be a grandmother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go throw up in your bushes.” 

Jamie is hot on her heels, grabbing both their jackets and (Y/N)’s bag in the process as he rushes after her. Though even in the chaos and hurry he doesn’t miss the look of absolute shock and bewilderment on the older woman’s face. It feels like a small victory but it does paint a little smile on his lips.

“Oh don’t do that. I’m disgusting.” 

“I’ll be watching you push out a whole damn baby. This is nothing compared to that.” 

If it weren’t such an absurd situation, that comment probably would’ve sent her spiraling but really it’s the least confusing part of today. Of course, Jamie wants to be around for the birth. Now that he mentioned it, (Y/N) thinks she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, he’ll be there. He’s been there for it all so far of course he’ll be there when the baby enters this world.

It’s almost a little dreamy and magical to think about. Almost. Because life doesn’t let her think too much about it before it sends another wave of vomit up her esophagus. 

“I don’t mind holding your hair while you puke, you're growing a whole human it’s the least I can do. But I gotta ask you something.” 

“What’s that?” (Y/N) asks and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. Desperate times, desperate measures. At least that’s how she tries to justify it to herself.

“Is that hedge purposely cut to look like a dick?” 

He nods towards one of the boxwood trees at the edge of the property that (Y/N) has no doubt her mother hired a gardener to trim and shape and care for. 

“Holy shit, it does.” 

“And cut too. You think your mum knows?” 

And suddenly the nausea is gone and forgotten about and in its place, a flurry of giggles takes over. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Jamie asks once they both calm down a little.

Is she okay? Not really but this too will pass and it’s not like she expected anything else from her mother. Ever since (Y/N) was a little kid she remembers her mother dulling all her joy and whimsy. Why should things be different now? 

“No. But I will be.” and when he takes her hand in his and places a soft kiss on her knuckles, for the first time since turning into this very street, she truly believes in those words.

“Good. Now do you wanna go home or do something else?” 

“Home sounds good but uh — do you want to stay? Watch a movie or something? I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Another kiss to her knuckles sends her heart into a little frenzy. Teeny tiny somersaults all around her ribcage.

“Yeah, can I pick? “

“Fuck no.”

“Alright, was worth a try.”

“It was a dream? That’s it?”

The ending credits to The Wizard of Oz play on her little TV screen as (Y/N) and Jamie sit on her couch, a bowl of microwave popcorn long devoured and now empty resting between them.

“I mean, you can interpret it however you want.” 

“Meh, didn’t like that one very much. Next time we should watch the Muppets treasure island. That’s a good one.” 

There truly is something so sweetly endearing about Jamie’s childlike qualities. His unintentional goofiness and his ability to make even the worst day turn into an okay one. An “all in all kinda good” one.

“Okay, fine. Next time we’ll watch the Muppets. It just — my dad had the Wizard of Oz on DVD. One of the few movies he had. So whenever I’d stay with him we’d watch it together. I think I just wanted to feel close to him today.” 

“Hey,” Jamie chimes up and gently nudges her shoulder with his. “I didn’t know your dad but from what you said about him he seemed like a fun guy. A good guy. So I think your mum is wrong. He’d be proud of you. I know that.”

And for the second time that day (Y/N) thanks whatever cosmic power there is for putting Jamie in her life. For making him the person who goes through all of this alongside her. For making him her partner in this crazy adventure. For making him the father of her child.

“Thanks, Jamie. I really appreciate that you stood up for me and the baby. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just froze. Every time I talk to her I want to say so many things but they get stuck somewhere on the way from my brain to my mouth.” 

“It’s okay, I get it. It’s like that with my dad too. We’ll just have to be each other’s voices then I guess.” 

“That sounds like a good plan to me.” 

He does it again then, that tiny insignificant kiss on the top of her head. It means nothing.

But it means everything.

“Hey uh — I’m not really tired yet. Do you wanna start that Muppets movie now?”

“Uh yeah? Absolutely. I’ll never say no to Kermit. He is THE frog.” 

Just a little while later, while Kermit and Miss Piggy sing a love song on screen while hanging off a cliff, (Y/N)’s eyes fall shut, her head resting gently against Jamie’s shoulder. 

For the second time in less than 24 hours (Y/N) falls asleep in Jamie’s arms. And though she might not realize it right then, she has never felt more safe and secure ever before.

Maybe things really will be alright.

“Now I know that life can take you by surprise, And sweep you off your feet. Did this happen to us, Or are we just dreaming? Love led us here.”

@captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy - @zbeez-outlet - @burnafter-reading - @britbratface - @labellapeaky - @mavisvermillion-first - @ladygrey03 - @charlesgirl16 - @cantbecreative - @nerdgirljen - @qardasngan - @confessionsofatotaldramaslut

[alotofpockets]

Unexpected gestures | Beth Mead x Reader

Where your son learned something you aren't too happy with

And a happy birthday to our Meado!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k

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You hear your son waking up in the other room, so you quickly get up to make sure your wife can sleep in on her birthday. After placing a soft kiss onto Beth’s forehead, you sneak out of your bedroom and into that of your son.

“Good morning sweetie.” His eyes light up when he sees you, “Mommy!” His arms reach out for you, and like every morning you wake him up, you lay down in his bed with him for some cuddles. You’re cuddling for a bit when all of a sudden Lucas sits up, “Mama’s birthday!.” 

“It is!” You were amazed by the fact that he remembered. Over the past couple of weeks you had been trying to teach Lucas the concept of time. To aid him learning the days passing, you had made a calendar where he would cross off every day that came to an end before he went to bed. He had also been using it to count down to Beth’s birthday, which he had seen last night was going to be the cross for tomorrow. 

“Do you want to help me make some breakfast to surprise her with?” Your sweet angel loved to help with everything. He was the kindest soul, Lucas truly was the best parts of you and Beth combined. The loving personality of your wife, and your caring one. Lucas nodded eagerly and was out of his room before you knew it. His little feet against the floors never failed to bring a smile to your face.

Once you make it downstairs yourself, you see Lucas had already found his favourite apron. You help him tie the dinosaur apron in the back, and get his step stool ready. You gather the ingredients together, Lucas loved making pancakes lately, which was probably because they were his favourite food over the last few months, but you happily went with it knowing that Beth would love anything her sweet boy made. 

You measure out the ingredients together, and place them in separate bowls to the side, so that Lucas could do all the pouring into the mixing bowl on his own. After telling him which ingredient went in next, he poured all the contents of the smaller bowls into the big mixing bowl. Snapping a quick picture of his focussed face with his tongue sticking out in concentration.

After mixing the batter you put the batter into the pan, and flip them together with Lucas. You loved watching your smiley boy’s face light up when another pancake was done. When you had a big enough stack, you cut up some fruits, while Lucas put some berries in a bowl. He thought you didn’t notice him putting a few handsfull in his mouth instead of in the bowl, but of course you had seen, you were just not going to stop your kid from eating fruit. 

When everything was ready, you put it on a tray and walked up to your bedroom to surprise Beth. Your wife had woken up a couple of minutes ago, but pretended to be asleep when she heard the two of you whispering in the hallway. 

Lucas jumped onto the bed and fell on top of Beth, leaving you chuckling from the doorframe. “Mama wake up, it’s your birthday!” He was gently shaking her body. The next second his giggles fill the room as Beth holds him close and starts tickling him. “Mommy help me.” He said between giggles. 

You set the tray with breakfast on your nightstand, and sit down on the bed. Instead of taking Lucas away from your wife’s grip, you decided to tickle Beth back. “Okay okay, I’m stopping.” Your wife was just as ticklish as your son was. 

“Happy birthday, my love. We made you some breakfast.” She takes in the meal that you present to her, “Thank you so much, it looks amazing.” She kisses you and then kisses Lucas on his cheek. “You two are the best.” Lucas shakes his head, “No mama, you are the best.” Your heart melted instantly. 

Breakfast was spent in bed together, as well as Beth opening both your presents and cards. Lucas had insisted on making his own card, and you had taken him to the store to pick out his own present for her. She loved everything that the two of you got her, and cuddled you both as a thank you.

In the afternoon Beth’s teammates would come over to celebrate, since it was a nice day out, you were setting up the backyard for it. Lucas insisted on hanging up decorations outside, and you agreed that it would make the backyard look more festive. You hung one side of the decorations, while Beth had Lucas on her shoulders, tying the otherside. 

It was a nice quiet moment with your family, before your backyard would be filled with the footballers that were basically a part of your family as well. 

The festivities were well underway when Lucas walked up to you. “Hi sweetie, what’s up?” With a devilish smirk he lifts up his middle finger at you. You look at him in disbelief, “Who taught you that?” He points back to a group of the girls, “Auntie Katie.” 

You get down to his level, “Sweetie, what Katie taught you is not a very nice gesture. We don’t do that, okay?” He nods his head in the form of an okay. “Sorry mommy.” You kiss his forehead. “It’s okay sweetie, go back to playing. Mommy will talk to Auntie Katie.” 

With a couple of steps you are standing in front of Katie with your arms crossed. “Ooooh you’re in trouble.” Kyra chuckles, you send her a warning glare and she lifts up her hands in surrender. You never got angry so Katie knew that whatever it was, you meant it. “If I hear you taught my sweet boy any more gestures like that or swear words, you will lose the honour of being his Auntie, do you hear me McCabe?” She nods, “Yes ma’am, I’m sorry.” 

You find the birthday girl in the kitchen, grabbing a few drinks. “What’s wrong, baby?” She immediately notices the slight frown on your face. “Katie taught Lucas how to flip people off.” Beth tries her hardest to keep her laugh in. “It’s not funny.” You shove her slightly, but fail to keep your laugh in yourself. “Yeah, it’s not funny at all.” Beth replies. She puts her arms around you, come on, let’s get back to the party. 

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[house-of-caraleya]

A Day at The Burrow | GARRETH W.

summary： a weasley morning with your husband and children. pairings： garreth weasley x f! reader warnings： none, just magical family fluff wordcount： 1.2k author’s note： probably innacurate in some parts, especially with the burrow. i’ve no clue who built it but we’ll pretend it was our garreth :p. creds: dividers: @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics // request: this post // picture: this post on pinterest

The sunlight streamed softly through the window, spilling over the old oak floorboards of the Weasley household, a little cabin on the green outskirts of Devonshire that the six of you lovingly called home.

You sighed contentedly, savouring the warmth of the morning as the quiet hum of the house reached your ears.

Garreth was up—he was always the first to rise, even before the birds outside started singing. It was just his way. And you, still half-asleep, could already hear the faint sound of pans clattering in the kitchen, interspersed with the familiar hum of Garreth’s voice, trying to herd the kids toward breakfast.

The house had a comfortable, lived-in feel, with mismatched furniture and the soft scent of toast and herbs in the air. It was a far cry from the grand halls of Hogwarts you and Garreth knew many years ago, but it was perfect for your family.

A home filled with warmth, laughter, and magic—just the way Garreth always dreamed it would be.

You stretched lazily, then swung your legs out of bed. The sounds of chaos from downstairs made you smile as you padded softly toward the kitchen. You had four children now—three daughters and one son—and mornings in the Weasley house were never quiet.

The familiar hum of their voices, overlapping in excited chatter, greeted you before you even entered the room.

“Annie! Don’t you dare mess with my things!” came a loud voice from one of the chairs around the table. It beloged to Lily-Anne, your eldest daughter, who at eight years old was already an expert at sounding outraged without really being angry.

“Relax, I was just looking!” Annie retorted, her words fast and full of mischief. At six years old, Annabelle was the family’s little adventurer—always poking around, testing spells, and getting into trouble.

“You’ve been looking at my things for hours,” Lily-Anne snapped back, sounding every bit like a miniature Garreth.

Garreth, who was having dishes washed by themselves while stirring something at the stove, laughed quietly to himself, not even bothering to intervene—he knew better by now. He was accustomed to the banter between his two oldest girls.

“Lillie, sweetie, give your sister some space,” he said, his voice a mix of fondness and exhaustion. “Annie, don’t make me send you to bed early tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Dad. I wasn’t even going to do anything with them,” Annie said, though the sly grin on her face made it clear she was up to something. She always had that look when she was planning her next ‘adventure.’

As you stepped into the kitchen, your youngest daughter, Winifred, nicknamed Winnie, was the first to spot you. “Mummy!” she squealed, her short ginger curls bouncing with excitement. She scampered over to you, her arms outstretched. “I made pancakes!” she announced, proudly holding up a small, slightly misshapen pancake, which she’d more than likely stolen from Garreth’s stack.

“Did you now?” you asked, bending down to kiss the top of her head, taking the pancake from her with a grin. “This looks amazing, darling.”

“Not as good as Daddy’s!” Winifred said, eyes wide with admiration. You turned your gaze toward Garreth, who was now flipping a much more professional-looking stack of pancakes onto the table.

“Alright, alright, I’ll take it from here,” Garreth said with a wink as he set the spatula down.

He turned to you and added in a quieter voice, “She insists she’s a pro chef already. I think we’ve got a little cook on our hands.”

You chuckled, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Then I believe you’ve got some competition, my love.”

“I’m okay with it,” Garreth said, his voice warm and humorous, and full of pride. “She’s clearly already better at it than I was at her age.”

“Annie!” came a new voice, followed by the tell-tale sound of a chair scraping against the floor. Finn, your four-year-old son, had clearly entered the fray. “You can’t do magic like that! Mum and Dad said no!”

Annie turned around, hands on her hips. “I wasn’t doing magic, Finn. I was simply pretending. It’s not even a real wand,” she said, a mock pout on her face.

“Pretending or not, stop doing that near my things!” Finnick spoke, stomping his little foot in exaggerated annoyance.

At this point, you couldn’t help but laugh. Finnick was a fiery little boy—very much like Garreth, though he had your stubbornness. 'Spellcasting' was his favourite pastime.

He wasn’t allowed to use magic yet, not until he turned eleven, but that didn’t stop him from pretending to perform spells.

Most of the time, he used his broomstick—his favourite toy, which was already showing signs of wear and tear from the countless imaginative Quidditch games he played in the garden, which Garreth would sometimes join in with.

“Alright, alright, enough with the magic-ing, everyone!” Garreth said, his voice good-natured but firm as he set the pancakes on the table. “We’ve got to eat before these poor pancakes turn to bricks.”

You sat down beside Garreth, helping Winifred into her seat next to you, while Annabelle, Finnick, and Lily-Anne scrambled for their places at the table. The moment your eldest daughter, Annie, slid into her seat, she immediately reached for the jar of jam, her eyes wide with determination.

“Lillie,” Garreth said, a chuckle in his voice, “we’ll get to the jam in a minute. First, let’s all eat something before your sisters get their hands on it.”

“I’m going to be the first one to finish my pancakes,” Lillie announced, her voice full of confidence.

“Not if I can help it!” Annie challenged, reaching for her fork, and starting to eat at an almost competitive speed.

Meanwhile, Winifred, still entranced by her stuffed dragon, began feeding her pancake to it, making sure it had its own little plate of syrup. Garreth leaned over to you, eyes twinkling. “If it weren’t for her, we might've had a spat over this food.”

“I’m pretty sure we already do,” you said with a laugh, watching as Lillie, Annie, and Finn began bickering over who would finish first.

The rest of breakfast was a beautiful mess—garbled conversations about dragons and broomsticks, Winnie insisting that Puff the Dragon could only eat pancakes with syrup, Annie and Finn arguing about the best Quidditch teams (despite neither of them actually knowing what a real match looked like), and Garreth trying to keep it all together with good-natured laughter.

“Alright, alright, let’s get cleaned up before it’s time to head outside,” Garreth said, after a few minutes of pancakes, syrup, and chaos. “We can’t have another broom incident like yesterday, can we?” He raised an eyebrow, though his tone was gentle.

“Maybe just one more race, Daddy,” Finn pleaded, his eyes big and innocent. “Just one.”

“Alright, one race,” Garreth said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But that’s it.”

You shook your head affectionately, your heart swelling with love as you looked at the family around you—your four rambunctious, wonderful children and your impossibly charming, endlessly patient husband. The day was just beginning, and already it was filled with more laughter, noise, and love than you could have ever imagined.

It was a good day. A very good day. And with Garreth by your side, you knew it would always be.

apologies for any mistakes i may have made, whether in timeline or the language! thank you so much for reading! i was super nervous about this, i don’t usually write much for garreth, but i hope i captured him as best as i could :,) likes, comments, reblogs and (constructive) criticisms are always much appreciated! 💗