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surielstea · 11 days ago

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A Warriors Heart

Based on a request.

Pairing: Virgin!Azriel x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been mated for a long time but have yet to act on it. What happens when alone in a house together?

A.Note: Sooo the original request asked for an Experienced!Reader but I was struggling writing a dynamic like that so here’s this, hopefully it’s okay. Also, Rhys and Reader are half-siblings!

6.2k word count.

The house was silent. A rare occurrence. Even when the three Illyrians weren't crowding it with their banter and heavy footsteps, Rhysand's mother's soft humming usually drifted from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pots and pans. That noise, that life, filled every corner of our home, like a heartbeat.

But tonight, the silence felt heavier. My brother and Cassian were away on an overnight expedition to another war camp, and Rhysand's mother had been summoned to the Night Court by my father. It was just Azriel and me. Alone.

I had known Azriel was my mate since I was eight years old, the bond threading between us as easily as a ribbon slipping through fingers. I had accidentally accepted it when I was fifteen, too young to understand the weight of what I'd done. We'd made a pact soon after, two awkward teenagers fumbling to make sense of the unshakable connection between us. Friends could be soulmates, we told ourselves. We swore to keep the bond platonic, to navigate it without letting it define us.

But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the bond shimmered between us like sunlight on a blade, sharp and undeniable. Azriel's protective nature—his tendency to linger closer than necessary, to bristle when someone dared flirt with me—had always been my undoing. And while he could command a room with a single glance, I had no doubt he saw me as nothing more than the sister of his closest friend.

It was why I'd spent the last seven years pulling away, trying to temper the ache that came from unrequited feelings. Even now, with all the years and distance between us, I didn't know how to act when it was just the two of us.

I didn't hear his footsteps. I never did. But his voice, soft and steady, broke the silence as I stirred the stew on the stove.

"Smells good."

I jumped, whirling to find Azriel leaning casually against the doorway, his hazel eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

"Gods," I exhaled, clutching the wooden spoon to my chest like a lifeline. "You have to stop sneaking up on me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a rare, fleeting thing that made my heart skip. "Can't help it," he replied, shrugging one broad shoulder. "Your reaction is worth it every time."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stove, determined to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck.

Azriel moved closer, his steps silent, until I could feel the faint heat of him behind me. He leaned in, just enough for his breath to brush the back of my neck as he peered over my shoulder.

"Stop looming," I muttered, swatting at him half-heartedly with the spoon.

He pulled back with a low chuckle, the sound curling in my chest and settling there, stubborn and unrelenting.

As he retreated to the sitting room, I focused on the stew, determined not to let my racing heart betray me. But even with his back turned, I could feel him—his gaze like a tether, steady and unyielding.

I hummed a tune under my breath, one my mother always sang while cooking. The melody was soft and familiar, a distraction from the weight of the quiet house and the man watching me from across the room.

By the time I ladled the stew into bowls, the tension in my chest had coiled tight. I turned, the bowls in hand, and froze.

Azriel was leaning back on the couch, his legs stretched out before him, wings draped lazily over the sides of the cushions. But his eyes were locked on me, dark and burning, as though he could see straight through me.

"Ready," I murmured, more to break the silence than anything, nudging a drawer closed with my hip as I grabbed two sets of silverware.

I set the bowls on the table and slid into my chair, pretending not to notice the way Azriel settled into the seat beside me instead of the one across. The scent of him—night-chilled mist and cedar—washed over me, and I busied myself arranging the utensils just to keep my hands from shaking.

He started eating without a word, and I followed suit, though each bite felt like a struggle under the weight of his presence.

It was almost odd watching him eat food I made, so reminiscent of how mates accept the bond. Even if the tether between us was always at the back of my mind, nights like these brought them front and center as if laid out on the table in front of me.

"Thank you," he said after a few minutes, his voice low. Almost shy.

I glanced at him, startled. "It's no bother," I replied quickly, brushing off the gratitude. "I know you've been training all day. You needed it."

Azriel tilted his head, studying me with a look that made my stomach flip. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but he only nodded and returned to his meal.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he said finally, the promise simple but weighted.

I blinked at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Deal."

We ate in silence after that, though it wasn't uncomfortable. The sound of silverware against bowls filled the space, grounding us. But I couldn't ignore the way his gaze kept flicking toward me like he was holding back something he didn't know how to say.

Finally, I set my spoon down and looked at him directly. "What?"

His lips curved into a faint smirk, the kind that always made my pulse stutter. "Nothing."

"Az," I warned, dragging his name out like a thread.

His smirk deepened, but his eyes softened, the light in them catching like a spark in the dim kitchen. "I missed this. Just the two of us."

Heat crawled up my neck. "Is it so different than when Rhys and Cass are here?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "You tell me." He smirks. "You don't usually stare at me so much when they're around."

The words struck something deep, a soft ache I hadn't realized was there. I looked away, focusing on my bowl. "Maybe you just haven't been paying attention."

His wings shifted slightly, a rustle of leather against wood. "I always pay attention." The quiet conviction in his voice made me pause, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. "You seem so busy avoiding me that you don't realize how often I'm watching you."

I dared a glance at him, and the way he was looking at me—like I was something worth watching, worth knowing—stole the breath from my lungs. "Now you just sound obsessed with me," I replied, attempting to keep my tone light.

"And if I am?"

I quickly dropped my gaze, grabbing my spoon like it could anchor me. But the tension in the air didn't ease, and I knew—no matter how many years we'd spent pretending otherwise—that the bond was still there, pulling us closer with every passing moment. "Then I'd tell you to find someone else," I say, my pulse fluttering.

"No," he added casually, "you'd miss me if I wasn't here to keep you company."

I snorted, rolling my eyes to mask the sudden skipping in my chest. "You mean to annoy me, right?"

"Same thing." He grinned, his rare smile brightening his usually stoic face, dimples softening his features and making my stomach knot.

I shook my head, trying not to laugh as I resumed eating. "You're unbelievable."

"C'mon, admit it. You'd be so lonely in this house without me as entertainment." His voice was softer now, and when I glanced at him, his expression had shifted. The teasing was still there, but beneath it was something warm, something real.

I swallowed hard, the knot in my chest tightening again. "I hate to ruin your fantasy but you're not exactly a great source of entertainment."

"Do you want me to be?" he said, and the way his voice dipped sent a shiver down my spine.

We fell back into silence after that, but it wasn't the same quiet as before. This time, the air between us felt charged, every glance and shift of movement loaded with something unspoken.

As we finished our meal, Azriel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied me. "So, what's for dessert?"

I scoffed at him. "Dessert?"

"Yes, dessert," he said, as though it were obvious. "You cooked dinner, so dessert is next. That's how it works, isn't it?"

I gave him a flat look. "You're awfully demanding for someone who just promised to make me breakfast."

"I like to think of it as balancing the scales," he replied smoothly. "Besides, I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The way he said it made my stomach flip, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Well, unless you're planning to bake something yourself, you're out of luck."

He sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand. "What a shame. Guess I'll have to settle for your company instead."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I said, standing to clear the dishes, though I couldn't keep the grin off my face.

"Who said I was flattering you?" he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

"You can clean up dinner then, I'm going to go read," I say with a taunting smile.

"So I can't have dessert or your company?" He argued as I began retreating down the hall.

"I'll be in my room if you need me, shadow singer."

"Yes, ma'am." But his tone was anything but obedient. I reached my door, and when I glanced back at him, his smirk was firmly in place, his gaze following me like one of his shadows. I entered my room and closed my door with a finalizing shut.

I leaned against the door, letting out a shaky breath. My chest felt tight, the warmth of Azriel's gaze still lingering on my skin. It was always like this with him—subtle, unspoken, charged. And yet, neither of us ever dared to cross that invisible line.

Until tonight, maybe.

The sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen echoed faintly through the house, proof that he had actually listened to me. I smirked to myself, shaking my head as I moved toward my bed.

I plucked my book from my nightstand, letting his gaze and words fizzle away, forcing myself to focus on the story in my hands.

It was hard not to think of him, he was technically a part of me after all. The tether between us was dusty and untouched, but somehow pulsing with life. I hadn't meant to, but I tugged on that bond, and the noise in the kitchen halted entirely.

Before I could weigh the fallout of my actions there was a knock on my door, soft and hesitant.

I slipped from the bed, still clutching my book just for something for my hands to do. I opened the door before I could second guess myself, revealing Azriel leaning against the frame of it. "You finished with the dishes already?" I say with a tilt of my head.

"No, I—you called me in here," He said with a crease in his brow.

"I didn't say anything?" I mutter.

"But you did, the bond," He attempts to explain and I cringe, hating to watch him fumble around this.

"I didn't mean to," I confess with a slight smile.

I stepped back instinctively, letting him into my room before the vulnerability of the moment could choke me. Azriel hesitated at the threshold, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His shadows coiled restlessly around his shoulders, mirroring the tension in his jaw. Finally, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

"You didn't mean to," he echoed, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

I shook my head, gripping the book tighter. "I've been doing well, haven't I? Not tugging on it? Not pulling you into something you didn't ask for?"

Azriel's gaze snapped to mine, sharp and unyielding. "Something I didn't ask for?" His wings shifted slightly, the leather whispering in the quiet. "You think I don't feel it, too? That I haven't felt it every day since I was sixteen?"

I blinked, his words striking me like a lightning bolt. He took a step closer, and the air between us charged, crackling with everything we'd been avoiding for years. "You think you're the only one pretending this doesn't exist? That it doesn't rip me apart every time I'm near you?"

The rawness in his tone stole the breath from my lungs. "Az... I didn't know. You—" I swallowed hard. "You've always seemed so controlled, indifferent to it."

He let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound cutting through the room. "Because I had to be. Because if I wasn't, I'd—" He stopped himself, dragging a hand through his dark hair. His wings flared slightly as if he was fighting the urge to pace. "You have no idea what you've done to me. And when you pulled on the bond just now, well it's a shock I can even find words despite the aching in my heart."

My heart thundered in my chest, the bond between us humming, alive and insistent. "Azriel," I murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop apologizing," he interrupted, stepping closer again, his hazel eyes burning into mine. "Don't you understand? I want you to pull on it. I want to feel you. To be near you."

My lips parted, but no words came out. He was so close now, his heat wrapping around me like a second skin. The scent of him—cedar and night-chilled mist—was intoxicating, pulling me under, but I was far from drowning.

"I thought you wanted me to ignore it, and I tried my best," he continued, his voice quieter now, trembling with restraint. "But then you went out of your way to keep your distance. And it drove me insane. Do you know how hard it is to love who doesn't feel the same?"

My breath hitched, his confession settling over me like a second bond. "You—what?"

He smiled faintly, but there was no humor in it. "Don't make me say it again."

My knees felt weak, my grip on the book tightening to keep from falling. "I thought..." I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "I thought you only tolerated me because of my brother."

Azriel's wings flared again, a sudden, restless movement. "Rhys has nothing to do with this. He never has."

I stared at him, my heart racing, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and hope. "Azriel," I whispered his name a prayer, a plea.

He reached for me then, his hand hesitating before brushing my cheek. His touch was warm, grounding, and the bond between us thrummed in response, a living thing that refused to be ignored.

"I'm done pretending," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "If you don't want this that's fine, I'll distance myself. But if you do—"

I didn't let him finish. I dropped the book, my hands finding the soft material of his shirt as I yanked him closer, crashing my lips to his.

Azriel let out a surprised noise, a deep, guttural sound that sent heat pooling in my stomach. His wings flared wide, his shadows scattering as he kissed me back with a ferocity that stole my breath. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I melted into his warmth, into the strength of him.

I gasped when his lips left mine, trailing down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Just us," he whispered the words sacred, a vow.

"Us," I breathed, threading my fingers into his hair, tugging gently. "Always."

He lifted me then, his hands firm on my thighs as he carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently, his body pressing against mine as he kissed me again, slower this time, reverent.

My hands roamed over him, tracing the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his muscles. He shuddered under my touch, his wings trembling as they curled protectively around us.

"I've never—" he murmured against my lips, his voice ragged as I cut him off.

"Neither have I," I whispered, arching into him. "I trust you, Az."

Something in his eyes softened at that, the love and need in them so intense it made my chest ache. Then he kissed me again, and there was no more room for words.

Just us. Just this.

We were a fumbling mess, equally awkward as we were clueless. But I wouldn't have changed anything about it. Because I finally had him, his lips were on mine and his hands held me.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling at the back of his shirt, yanking it up, needing my hands on his bare skin. He pulled away from the kiss to get it over his head, discarding it on my bedroom floor.

His body hovered over mine, his wings curling inward like a shelter, cocooning us in a space where only we existed. My hands roamed the expanse of his bare chest, marveling at the strength there, the warmth that radiated from him. His muscles tensed and relaxed under my touch, a shiver rippling through him as my fingers explored.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips over mine again, this kiss softer, slower. "Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice a low rasp against my mouth. The vulnerability in his hazel eyes made my chest ache.

I cupped his face, smoothing my thumbs over his sharp cheekbones. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." My voice trembled, but it carried the weight of truth. "It's always been you, Az."

Something in him broke at my words. His forehead dropped to mine, his breath shuddering as he let out a soft laugh, tinged with disbelief. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"I think I've got some idea," I whispered, my hands slipping to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair.

His lips found mine again, but this time, there was no hesitation, no restraint. His kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against mine as his hands began to explore, sliding down my sides, tentative but firm. Each touch sent a jolt of heat through me, my body arching into him instinctively.

When his hand skimmed under the hem of my nightgown, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my waist, I gasped against his lips. He stilled, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. "Tell me if I—if you need me to stop," he said, his voice a strained whisper.

I shook my head, a soft smile tugging at my lips. "Don't stop. Please, Az."

He exhaled shakily, his hands more confident now as he lifted my nightgown. I helped him pull it off, and he paused to take me in, his gaze sweeping over me like a caress. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe, as though he couldn't believe this moment was real. His fingers brushed over my collarbone, down to my ribs, and I trembled under his touch.

"You're allowed to touch me," I said softly, my cheeks warming under his intense gaze. "I want you to."

His shadows curled around my wrists, feather-light, as though they couldn't resist the temptation of me either. "You're, soft," he murmured, an uneasiness in his eyes that made me realize why he was so hesitant. I took his hand in mine, running my thumb over a scar.

"Touch me, Az." My voice was a breathless plea as I guided his scarred hand to my covered breast, craving the feel of him everywhere. His breath hitched, but the hesitation in his eyes melted away as his hands explored my sides, fingertips trailing heat over my waist. His thumbs brushed against the underside of my bra, and my breath faltered. He froze, his gaze meeting mine, searching for any sign of doubt.

When he found none, his lips tilted in a barely-there smile, reverence written across his features. He reached behind me, his fingers fumbling with the clasp, his brow furrowing in concentration. When the garment finally slipped free, I flushed, exposed under his gaze.

His wings trembled, his eyes darkening with barely restrained desire. "You're perfect," he whispered, the words soft, as though they were meant for no one but himself.

I swallowed, my heart thundering as I reached for him, pulling him down until our bodies met. The heat of his skin burned against mine, a delicious contrast that sent sparks through every nerve. His lips found my neck, pressing kisses along my skin that grew wetter and hotter as he made his way down. My head fell back as he trailed lower, his mouth closing over my breast.

A soft cry escaped me, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly. He froze, pulling back just enough to look at me, concern flickering across his features. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I whispered, my voice shaky but insistent. "It—it feels good, Az."

Relief flooded his expression, and his lips curved into a small, teasing smirk. "Good," he murmured before returning to his task, his tongue flicking experimentally, his teeth grazing gently as he learned what made me gasp and arch into him.

My hands explored the expanse of his back, the muscles beneath his skin flexing and rippling under my touch. I dragged my fingers lower, to the base of his wings, earning a low groan from him that vibrated through my chest.

"You're sensitive there," I noted, a teasing lilt to my voice.

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath fanning across my skin. "You have no idea."

I grinned but left the spot alone for now, my hands sliding to his shoulders to pull him back up. Our lips met again, his tongue brushing against mine, tasting me, exploring me. His kiss was consuming, and I let myself sink into it, reveling in the way he took control, how he kissed as though he'd waited lifetimes for this.

I trailed my hands down his chest, my fingers mapping every ridge and dip of muscle until I reached the waistband of his pants. My hand slipped beneath the fabric, but his scarred fingers covered mine, halting my movements.

"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse, his forehead pressed against mine, his breathing uneven.

"Yes," I murmured, one hand tugging gently on his hair to pull him closer. "I want all of you, Azriel. I've always wanted you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, the vulnerability in his eyes stealing my breath. "It'll hurt," he warned softly, his voice laced with worry.

"I know," I said, cupping his cheek with one hand, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. "But every time after this will be perfect," I added, a quiet promise in my voice.

His eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. He exhaled deeply, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Every time after this," he echoed, his tone laced with awe.

Still, his hand didn't release mine. "We have to get you ready first," he said, his voice gentler now, the determination in his gaze sending a thrill through me.

My face burned, but I nodded, moving my hand to his shoulder and digging my nails into his back as he slid my panties down my thighs. The cool air kissed my heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of his touch.

He started slow, his fingers sliding through my folds, teasing, testing. My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, but he gripped my thigh with his free hand, holding me in place.

"Azriel," I breathed, his name leaving my lips like a prayer.

"Here?" His voice was dark, teasing, as his thumb circled my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

"Yes—there," I gasped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle the noises spilling from me, but his shadows coiled around my wrist, pulling my hand away and pinning it above my head.

"No, love," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I'm done imagining what you sound like screaming my name." His breath ghosted over my skin as he pressed a kiss to my neck, finding the sensitive spot that made my body tremble. "Let me hear you," he uttered, his voice rough with desire.

A shaky exhale escaped me, and when he slipped a finger inside me, crossing a line that sent a burst of pleasure through my body, I did exactly as he'd imagined.

"Azriel," I moaned, my head tilting back into the pillows.

"That's my girl," he praised, the words making me clench around him.

His scarred fingers moved in a slow rhythm, in and out, each stroke deliberate, teasing. I could feel myself unraveling, the tension building in my core threatening to snap.

"I—I'm close," I whimpered, my voice barely audible.

"I know," he whispered against my neck, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin.

His shadows tightened their hold, pinning me further into the mattress as he placed his thumb on my clit, circling it hard. His mouth returned to my breast, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers.

Pleasure surged through me, and I cried out his name again, my legs trembling as he pushed me closer to the edge.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice like velvet, thick with want. "Let go for me, love."

And I did.

The tension snapped, and I shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over me in waves. My body arched into his touch, and his name spilled from my lips in a breathless chant. He slowed his movements, coaxing me through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to my skin.

When I finally came down, my chest heaving, I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his expression raw, reverent.

"My girl," he murmured again, his voice thick with emotion.

I reached for him, pulling him down until his forehead pressed against mine. "Azriel," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm ready."

His jaw tightened, eyes flicking over me once more but he nodded. His eyes didn't leave mine as he removed his pants and everything beneath it.

He hovered above me, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths as he shed the last of his clothing. My gaze followed the lines of his body, drinking in the powerful, carved planes of him. Shadows danced across his golden skin, softening the hard edges, but nothing could diminish the raw, unyielding strength that he carried.

"I've waited for this," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "For you."

Emotion swelled in my chest, tangling with the heat that still coursed through me. I placed my hand over his, pressing his palm more firmly against my face. "Then take me, Azriel. I'm yours."

Something broke in him then, the raw vulnerability in his gaze giving way to a feral hunger. He lowered himself onto his elbows, caging me beneath him. His wings flared slightly, a protective shroud as his forehead pressed to mine.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice softening as his lips brushed mine. "I'll stop if you ask me to."

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. He kissed me then, slow and tender, as though sealing a promise.

When he positioned himself at my entrance, his gaze found mine again. His wings quivered as he asked one last, silent question. I answered by wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The first press of him was exquisite—a stretch that burned but didn't break. My breath hitched, and Azriel froze, his hand gripping my hip as though anchoring himself.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes," I said, my hands finding the base of his wings, the sensitive area so soft beneath my touch. I stroked gently, hoping to soothe the tension coiling in his body. "Keep going."

He nodded, his jaw clenched as he eased into me, inch by torturous inch. My body adjusted to him, the burn fading into a fullness that made my breath catch. Azriel buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking. "So fuckin' good."

I tightened my hold on him, my fingers slipping into his hair as I whispered, "Please, more."

He sunk in further, and once I was certain I couldn't take anymore he pushed in another inch. I moaned into his shoulder, relishing the burn of it, the pleasurable pain that sent me spiraling. Deeper, so deep. I lost words as he finally bottomed out, his hips meeting mine.

Tears shone in my eyes but I didn't tell him to stop, didn't want him to. It took me a moment to adjust, to so much as catch my breath. He lifted one of my legs up, shadows tethering it there, allowing the foreign stretch to lessen.

"Okay," I say shakily. "Mm, you can move." I nod, placing my hands on his shoulders.

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, telling me he was here if I wanted him to stop. Then, he began to move, slow and steady, his hips rolling in a rhythm that built a delicious friction between us. Each thrust was deliberate, controlled, as though he was determined to make me feel every moment of my very insides molding to him, fitting around him and only him.

The pain faded entirely, replaced by waves of pleasure that built with every movement. I moaned his name, my nails digging into his back as he drove deeper, his wings trembling on either side of us.

"Look at me," he rasped, lifting his head. His eyes burned, molten with desire and something deeper, something that made my heart ache. "I want to see you."

I met his gaze, unable to look away as he moved inside me, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer. The connection between us deepened, an unspoken bond that seemed to tighten with every thrust, every shared breath.

Azriel's hips maintained their slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending a delicious ripple of heat through my body. His wings trembled above us, shadows curling and twisting around my raised leg, holding me in place. The stretch still burned faintly, but it was a sweet ache, one that was quickly drowned out by the mounting pleasure.

“You're so tight," Azriel groaned, his voice hoarse, breaking on the words. His hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. "So perfect for me."

I whimpered, my chest heaving as I struggled to keep my eyes locked on his. It was hard—gods, it was so hard when he was staring at me like that, his hazel gaze molten, filled with a hunger that set me ablaze.

"Az," I breathed, his name a plea I didn't fully understand myself.

"What do you need, love?" he rasped, lowering his forehead to mine. His breath mingled with mine, his lips brushing against my mouth but never pressing fully. "Tell me. I'll give you anything."

I couldn't find the words, so I arched into him, my nails dragging down his back, the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath my hands enough to make me shiver. He groaned low in his throat, his hips stuttering before he caught himself, slowing once again.

"Careful," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my jaw. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not," I managed, my voice trembling as his next thrust hit something deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. I gasped, my fingers tightening in his hair.

Azriel's smirk was dark, dangerous. "There?"

I nodded, unable to do much more than whimper as he shifted his angle slightly, rolling his hips in a way that made my entire body arch off the mattress. The pleasure was overwhelming, a slow, torturous build that had me teetering on the edge without ever quite falling over. "Faster," I begged, needing him to abuse the spot.

He did as told, quickening his pace, learning what made me gasp, what made my nails bite into his skin. His shadows curled around me, their cool touch a stark contrast to the heat of our bodies. They skimmed my sides, my thighs, whispering over my skin like a lover's caress.

"So beautiful," Azriel murmured, his voice filled with reverence. He dipped his head, his lips brushing over my collarbone, then lower, until his mouth closed over my breast yet again.

I cried out, my back arching as his tongue flicked over my sensitive peak. He lavished attention on me, his hand coming up to knead the other breast, his thumb teasing the hardened peak.

"Azriel," I moaned, my hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, desperate to anchor myself as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough as he nipped at the delicate skin of my chest.

"Azriel," I whimpered, my voice breaking on his name.

He groaned, his hips snapping harder against mine. The sudden force sent a shockwave through me, pleasure and pain twining together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"Good girl," he murmured, his lips trailing back up to my neck, finding that sensitive spot beneath my ear that made me shiver. "You take me so well."

I couldn't respond, couldn't think past the way he filled me, the way his body moved against mine. My free leg tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Azriel's pace quickened further, just slightly, enough to make my breath catch. His wings flared, the powerful appendages framing us, blocking out the world until there was nothing but him.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I was sure there would be bruises. "You're going to ruin me, love."

I cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. He kissed me harder, his movements growing more desperate.

His pace grew more erratic, his hips snapping into mine with an urgency that sent waves of pleasure crashing through me. His ministrations worked me mercilessly, every thrust pushing me higher until I felt like I might break apart entirely.

"Azriel," I gasped, my voice trembling as my nails raked down his back, desperate to ground myself against the storm building inside me.

His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot and uneven. "Let go, love," he rasped. "I've got you."

His words were my undoing. The coil inside me snapped, and I shattered, my body arching off the bed as the pleasure tore through me. I cried out his name, gripping his shoulders as the waves rippled over me, again and again.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned, his thrusts faltering as my body clenched tightly around him. I felt him tremble above me, his restraint slipping with every broken sound that left his lips.

Through the haze of pleasure, I reached for his wings, running my fingers along the sensitive ridges where they flared above us. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his entire body shuddering.

"Gods," he ground out, his head dropping to my shoulder as I stroked the base of his wings, teasing the place I knew would unravel him completely. His hips snapped forward, deeper this time, and the broken groan that spilled from him sent another thrill through me.

"Az," I whispered, pulling him closer, my lips brushing his ear. "Inside.."

His head shot up, his molten gaze locking with mine as he searched my face. His jaw clenched, his restraint hanging by a thread as he rasped, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I breathed, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him down to me. "I want all of you, Azriel."

The last thread of his control snapped. With a low growl, he buried himself inside me to the hilt, his wings flaring wide as his release took him. His body tensed, a shuddering groan spilling from his lips as he gave me everything. I held him tightly, my hands stroking the base of his wings as he rode out his climax, his hips jerking with the aftershocks.

"Gods," he whispered hoarsely, his forehead pressing against mine as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're everything, love."

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his damp forehead. "And you're mine," I whispered, my voice steady despite the emotion swelling in my chest.

Azriel's lips found mine in a kiss so tender, so reverent, that it stole the breath from my lungs. He stayed inside me, his body pressed tightly to mine, as though he couldn't bear to let go just yet. And I didn't want him to.

Not now. Not ever.

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navybrat817 · 3 months ago

Text

Moving in Slow Motion

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Everything changes for Bucky when he meets you and your daughter.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, meet-cute, daughter nicknamed Sweet Pea, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: How mob!Bucky and our single mom met. Thanks to @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me babble about this AU. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky met you and Sweet Pea at a science museum and his life changed for the better.

Growing up, Bucky enjoyed going to the museum. Beyond developing critical and analytical thinking, science encourages curiosity and creativity.

In another life, he liked to imagine he taught science and had a family instead of being a mob boss.

It wasn’t fair to think that since his friends were his family, but something was missing that they couldn’t provide him with.

Whether for nostalgic purposes or to clear his head, he found himself back in the familiar museum. He stood and silently observed various exhibits, his eyes darting back and forth as families bustled around him and enjoyed the interactive experiences.

Something tightened in his chest and he didn’t want to ponder on that for long.

A chorus of chatter and excitement drew his attention and he stepped back to make room when he saw a group of kids in matching shirts walk by. Field trips were always something to look forward to and the wonder in their eyes reminded him of simpler times.

“Mama, Mama, look!” A sweet voice called out before something bumped his leg. He glanced down to see a little girl look up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, Mister.”

Bucky Barnes struck fear into powerful men all over the world. He could only imagine how he looked to this sweet little girl with his large and imposing stature.

People liked to say he had a cold heart, but one look at her and it melted.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Sweet Pea.” He wasn’t sure where the nickname came from as he crouched down to make sure she was okay. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

She quickly shook her head and appeared to relax a bit when he gave her a small smile. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. “No, Mister. I’m okay.”

He nodded, glad to hear that. “You just got excited by everything here, didn’t you? I get it.”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled, making his smile widen. He didn’t smile much these days. “Science is my favorite!”

“It’s my favorite, too,” he said, pointing to one of the rooms. “Did you know in that room you can try to build your own roller coaster?”

She gasped, her eyes lighting up. “I can?!”

He chuckled. Her enthusiasm was infectious. “You sure can. I’ll bet you can build a really good one.”

“Sir, did she bump into you?” You rushed over through the crowd as Bucky’s eyes flickered up, his breath caught in his throat. You weren’t in a matching shirt like the kids, but wore a similar color. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t help but stare at you as he stood upright, everything moving in slow motion. The little girl made his heart melt, but you set it on fire.

“I said sorry, Mama,” your daughter said, a slight pout on her face when you put a protective arm around her and gave him a wary look. He appreciated your protective instinct. “Accidents happen.”

Bucky wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that his eyes went to your left hand and was happy to not see a wedding ring. Questions went through his mind, ranging from why you weren’t married to what was the full backstory of you and your daughter?

“I know how happy you are to be here, but you also need to be careful and stay close to me,” you said in a gentle, but firm tone. Bucky had a feeling you weren’t referring to bumping into people, but to avoid strangers. “Okay?”

“Okay, Mama,” she replied, hugging your legs.

“It’s fine. Really. I’m pretty sure I walked straight into a wall once because one of the exhibits distracted me,” he teased, unsure of why he wanted to talk to you. He just did.

You smiled after a moment, keeping your arm around your daughter. “I appreciate that. This visit was all she talked about for the last week.”

“I don’t blame her. I hope she has the best time,” he said sincerely.

Your daughter tugged on your shirt. “Show him what I colored!”

Your eyes went to Bucky before you dug into your tote bag. “What do we say?” You asked your daughter.

“Please,” she replied.

Bucky smiled to himself when you took out a coloring sheet with various science and space objects. “Wow! Did you color this?” He asked the little girl. “It’s very good.”

She smiled proudly. “Uh-huh!”

“It’s for a contest. The winner gets a free season pass to the museum,” you explained, carefully tucking it back in your bag.

“I hope I win,” she said, hopefulness in her innocent eyes.

Maybe he could make a donation and get that season pass for her. Hell, he had enough money to buy the museum if he wished.

“Well, I’m not a judge, but you’d win if it was up to me,” Bucky said, taking it as a victory when she smiled again.

You gazed at him before you shook your head. “We should get back to the group.”

“Aww,” she pouted, giving Bucky a small wave. “Bye bye, Mister.”

“Bucky. My name is Bucky,” he said, wishing the wholesome interaction didn’t have to end. He was completely enamored with the two of you. “It was nice meeting you, Sweet Pea.”

“Sweet Pea?” You repeated. He worried he made a mistake in saying that before you smiled. “I call her that sometimes.”

“It’s fitting,” he said, tucking a bit of his hair back. “Any chance I might get your name before you go?”

You hesitated before you told him. You even gave him your daughter’s real name. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

Bucky was probably pushing his luck, but he’d regret it if he didn’t try. “Look, I know this is forward, but can I give you my number?” He asked, giving you what he hoped was a charming yet soft stare.

He didn’t take offense to the skepticism in your eyes. “Um…” You glanced over your shoulder to make sure the group was still close by.

“It’s more than okay if you say no,” he said. He didn’t want you to feel pressured in the slightest and he shouldn’t have assumed you were single because you weren’t wearing a ring.

It was also selfish in a way since you and your daughter seemed so bright and his world was dark, but maybe you two were the real reason he went to the museum today.

After a moment and exchanging a look with your daughter, you shrugged and handed him your phone. “Sure, why not?”

His heart soared when he put his number in, wondering how quickly he’d hear from you. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, making sure to give Sweet Pea one more smile, too. “Have fun making the roller coaster. And good luck with the contest.”

“Thanks, Mister Bucky!”

Bucky’s heart melted all over again as she pulled you away. You even glanced back and gave him a tiny smile, which he returned with one of his own.

He didn’t know you yet, but he sensed deep down that your expectations were set low when it came to men. He was going to enjoy raising the bar.

And he was going to enjoy giving you and Sweet Pea the best life possible, if you gave him a chance.

Wait ‘til the gang hears about this…

I don't have a name yet for the AU and still coming up with a nickname for our reader (Dream Girl and Starlight have been suggested!), but I can't wait to share more. Check out Heart and Home here! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 year ago

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COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.

it’s beautiful.

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!”

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it.

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.”

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.

he hopes it never goes away.

#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3 #i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother #i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u #but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it #and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child #im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #……… thats… a lot of tags.

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hoe4hotchner · 3 days ago

Note

Can you write a story where the reader, a BAU member, is on maternity leave after she and Aaron just had a baby? One day, she goes to the office to bring their daughter to visit Aaron, only to find him in the bullpen with the agent who replaced her while she’s been on leave. The replacement has a crush on Aaron and doesn’t know that he’s married to the reader. The replacement becomes jealous when she sees how much attention Aaron is giving their daughter and confronts the reader, but Aaron gets angry and ends up firing her."

Family first | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: Fluff, mom!reader, they have a daugther, bitch of a replacement coworker who doesn't know her place.

As you stepped into the all too familiar bullpen you were met with the usual sound of phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and the occasional laughter bubbling up from conversations between team members. You hadn’t stepped foot in the office in months — your maternity leave had been an endless storm of sleepless nights, diaper changes, and indescribable moments of joy. Now, cradling your six-month-old daughter in your arms, you stood at the threshold of the office, taking it all in — realizing how little you'd missed working, as long as you got to spend your time with your daughter.

“Ready to surprise Daddy?” you cooed to your baby, brushing a soft kiss against her fluffy head. She giggled in response, her little hand grasping at your necklace — the one Aaron had gotten you with a charm of your daughter's initial. Her chubby fingers wrapped around the charm, and you couldn’t help but smile at her curiosity.

Heads turned as you had entered, and a wave of warmth spread through you as familiar voices from your friends greeted you.

“Y/N!” Garcia’s exclamation came first as she flew across the bullpen, pulling away from her conversation with Morgan, her colorful dress trailing behind her. “Oh my gosh, let me see that precious little angel!”

You laughed, carefully handing over your daughter as Garcia immediately began cooing at her. Emily, Morgan, and JJ soon gathered around, their faces lighting up at the sight of the baby.

“Look at those cheeks,” Morgan said, his voice soft as he tickled her tiny hand. “Hotch better have her signed up for karate classes already. Gotta keep the boys away.”

“Or girls,” Emily added. “She’s going to be a heartbreaker either way.”

You beamed at their affection, the team’s love for your little family filling your heart. “Where is Aaron?” you asked, glancing toward his office. The blinds were drawn, but you knew he wasn’t inside.

JJ nodded toward the conference room. “He’s in there, showing something to Agent Morrison.”

Your smile faltered slightly at the mention of Morrison, the agent who had been brought in temporarily to cover your leave. You hadn’t met her yet, but you’d heard through the grapevine that she was ambitious, skilled, and confident — maybe a little too confident.

You spotted Aaron through the windows, his back turned as he reviewed what you assumed were some case files with Morrison. He looked relaxed yet tired, his tie slightly loosened, though his usual air of authority remained in place. Morrison stood close to him — a little too close — her laughter ringing out at something he said.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but you pushed the feeling aside. Aaron was your husband, your partner, and the father of the baby currently making grabby hands at Morgan’s face. You had no reason to feel insecure.

Morgan handed your daughter back to you as you went to greet your husband.

And still, as you approached, you couldn’t help but notice the way Morrison’s body language leaned toward him, her hand brushing his forearm as she laughed again. Aaron didn’t seem to notice — or if he did, he wasn’t encouraging it.

When you reached the conference room, Aaron glanced up, and the moment his eyes met yours, his entire demeanor softened.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and surprise. His gaze immediately dropped to the baby in your arms, and he stood quickly, coming around the desk to envelop you both in a hug.

“You should’ve told me you were coming,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before gently brushing a finger across your daughter’s cheek. She squealed in delight, reaching out for him, and he took her into his arms with ease.

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I told you,” you replied, grinning as you watched him cradle her. “I figured you could use a break.”

Aaron’s smile widened, and he kissed the baby’s forehead before turning back to you. “I always have time for my girls.”

Morrison’s voice cut into the moment, a hint of confusion lacing her words. “Wait, your girls?”

You turned to her, offering a polite smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Aaron’s wife.”

Her eyes widened, darting between you, Aaron, and the baby. “Wife?” she repeated, her tone almost incredulous.

Aaron’s arm settled protectively around your waist as he nodded. “Yes, my wife. Y/N used to work here before going on maternity leave.”

Morrison’s expression shifted, her initial surprise giving way to something more guarded. “Oh. I… I didn’t realize.”

“Well, now you do,” Aaron said firmly, his tone polite but edged with finality, hoping that your visit would make Morrison drop her antics.

The tension in Morrison’s posture was clear as day, but she pasted on a smile. “She’s adorable,” she said, nodding toward the baby. “You’re very lucky.”

Aaron’s grip on you tightened slightly. “I know I am.”

The interaction seemed to conclude there, and Morrison excused herself, claiming she had paperwork to finish. But as the day went on, it became clear that the encounter had unsettled her. You noticed her watching you from across the room, her eyes narrowing whenever Aaron’s attention lingered on you or the baby.

Finally, as you were gathering your things to leave, Morrison approached you near the elevator. Her smile was tight, her tone clipped.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked, glancing around to ensure no one else was within earshot.

You raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Her polite facade dropped almost instantly. “You don’t have to flaunt your relationship in front of everyone,” she said sharply. “It’s unprofessional.”

Your jaw tightened, but you kept your voice calm. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

She scoffed. “You know exactly what I mean. Walking in here with your baby like you own the place, acting like Hotch is your personal property… It’s distracting and completely inappropriate.”

You blinked, stunned by the audacity. Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Agent Morrison.”

Aaron’s tone was ice-cold, and you turned to see him standing a few feet away, his expression thunderous. “A word, please. Now.”

Morrison’s face paled as she stammered, “I… I didn’t mean…”

“My office. Now.”

You watched as Aaron led her away, his posture stiff with fury. The bullpen had fallen silent, and you could feel the eyes of your colleagues on you, but you held your head high, refusing to let Morrison’s pettiness rattle you.

Minutes later, Aaron returned, his expression softer but still serious. He placed a hand on your arm, guiding you toward the elevator. “Let’s go home,” he said quietly.

As the elevator doors closed, you glanced up at him. “What happened?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Morrison won’t be returning. Her behavior was unacceptable, and I made it clear that we won’t tolerate that kind of attitude here.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude and love for the man beside you. “Thank you.”

Aaron’s eyes softened as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “No one disrespects my family,” he said firmly. “No one.”

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oneforthemunny · 6 months ago

Text

november rain |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|

prompt: after your divorce to eddie, you try to get back out there. but sometimes, nothing beats what you already have.

contains: smut minors dni. mom!reader x dad!eddie. divorced. mentions to past angst/ fighting. mentions of teen pregnancy. oral fem receiving, pinv sex. slightly angsty. asshole date, angsty ending. kinda a bittersweet fic. based off this ask <3

You could hear him before you could see him, speakers shaking from the noise in his car, leaving your ears buzzing at the vibrations. The swelling of your heart rose above the annoyance you tried to feign, rolling your eyes and hoping he didn’t see through it.

“You do realize I live in a subdivision? Neighbors and all?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him before he’d ever climbed out of the car, killing the engine and the music with the pull of his keys.

“Yeah? They don’t like Judas Priest?” Eddie grinned, dimples deep, and you knew under his shades his eyes were bright and wild- the way they always were when they were teasing you. “I have Metallica too. I think I still have that Blondie tape you like in here too somewhere, if they’d prefer that.”

Your heart skipped, lips twitching in a faltering snarl that was slowly turning into a blushing soft smile. “You better not play music that loud when my babies are with you.” You huffed, hands moving to rest on your hips, the denim waistband of your jeans hugging you just right in your Levi’s- Eddie’s favorite pair. You knew it, and you didn’t miss the way his tongue ran over his bottom lip.

“Did you hear me?” You snapped, swallowing a grin. You knew he hadn’t, too distracted. “Eddie, I am serious, you will bust their little ear drums-”

“-I know, sweetheart. C’mon,” Eddie shook his head, pushing his sunglasses up, pinning his curly bangs with them. “They’re my kids too. ‘M not gonna hurt them, you know that.” The sun caught a flash of gold, gleaming just for a moment off his left hand.

Eddie was still wearing his wedding band.

Your stomach sunk at the thought, thumb absentmindedly twisting your bare ring finger. The divorce had been final for months- six, to be exact. You’d stopped wearing yours after the first. It was weird, not wearing the small band and ring you’d worn since high school- since Eddie proposed with shaking hands on your front porch after you found out you were expecting. He’d dropped the ring twice, sweaty and nearly sick with anxiety. Your mother told you that should have been a sign, but you found it endearing then- maybe you did even now.

“Where’s the rugrats anyway?” Eddie hummed, catching your glass door to hold it for you, letting you slip under his arm. You caught a whiff of his cologne, faint from the day, mixed with a cigarette he tried to mask from earlier.

“Jude’s playing in the backyard.” You stepped into the small foyer. Eddie had left it to you in the divorce, saying you were the only reason they got it anyways. There was always an eerie feeling that lingered when he came inside, a haunting reminder of a forever that didn’t quite succeed.

“He’s supposed to be watching Lucy.” You hummed, craning your neck to look out the window in the living room. “They’re hunting for bugs.” Your nose crinkled, leaving Eddie laughing.

“Bug hunting? Oh, they don’t know their Mama is terrified of bugs, huh?” Eddie teased, peeking out of the window to see the two kids, perfect blends of both of your features packed into two tiny beings.

“I’m not terrified. Well, of all the bugs.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “Spiders, yes, and I told Jude those were off limits or I was giving Grandpa Wayne back the bug catching kit.”

“You’re no fun.” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Scared of a little spider?” His fingers tapped playfully in a crawling way up your arm towards your shoulder, leaving you squirming away.

“Stop.”

“God, do you remember- what was it? Junior year? When there was a spider on your desk in Geometry?” Eddie laughed, grabbing his side at the memory. “And you shoved all your books off the desk in the middle of class?”

“Yes, and you and Gareth just laughed at me.” You fought back your own smile at the memory.

“Yes!” Eddie howled in laughter. “And Mr. Browcheski got so fu-sorry- freaking mad at all of us. Did we- That was when we got detention, right?”

“Yes,” You glared at him playfully, crossing your arms. “And I was about to have a nervous breakdown thinking about how I was going to tell my parents.”

“That’s right.” Eddie nodded slowly. “That was your first detention?”

You nodded. “I was a good girl until I met you, Munson. You’re a bad influence.”

“Yeah, can’t be all bad though, right?” Eddie held your gaze, stepping close instinctively. Your breathing hitched, his hand gliding over your hip, fingertips ghosting the bare skin above your waist band. “We had some good times too.”

Your head spun, dizzy with a clouding lapse of judgment. Eddie was pulling you in, hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back, holding you so close you were flush to him. His head was already tilting, ducking towards yours, ready to capture your lips and you’d let him. Of course you’d let him, you’d be lying to say you didn’t miss his kiss- miss him.

Lucy’s high pitched shrill had you faltering, snapping out of the haze, back into a damning reality. “What- Eddie, we-we can’t.” You took a step back, knees a little weak and wobbly from the adrenaline rush that always came with his affection. “We can’t do this.”

“Right,” Eddie swallowed, hands shoving in his pockets, cheeks blooming with a pink heat that burned through his body. “S-Sorry. I just- I got caught up in the moment. Talking about that. I just-”

“-It’s fine.” You muttered, pulling the back door open, a melody of Jude and Lucy’s giggles floating in. “Guys, someone’s here to see you.” You sing-songed in a happy tune, face lighting with exaggerated excitement. You were good like that, Eddie thought, still playing nice for the kids. Maybe it wasn’t playing, Eddie really hoped it wasn’t, though the rational side of his mind (and his friends) begged to differ.

“Daddy!” A duo of squeals and shrieks blended with bounding feet up the wooden steps into the house.

Jude came bounding in first, nearly knocking Eddie over at the knees when his small frame collided with him. “Wo-oah, hey, buddy.” Eddie grinned, tousling the boy’s wild curls, frizzy and matted from playing outside.

“Hi, Dad.” Jude beamed up at Eddie. He’d gotten Eddie’s lashes but your eyes. “We’re catching bugs.”

“I heard. Catch any good ones? Any centipedes?” Eddie grinned, bending down to hug the boy.

“No,” Jude’s face fell slightly in a frown. “But I did catch a ladybug for Lucy!” Jude bounced on his toes with excitement.

Your heart swelled, trying to wrangle the small girl on your hip, passing her off to Eddie- well, passing was generous, she nearly launched off your hip into his arms. “A lady bug?” Eddie repeated in a babble he still used with Lucy. She was still small, in his eyes, though she was growing every single day, she was still his baby.

“Did Bubs get you a ladybug, Lucy?” Eddie bounced her on his hips, tickling her sides so she shrieked with laughter.

“Yeah,” Lucy giggled, leaning back to look at Jude in a limp sort of backbend. “Jude’s gots me a ladybug an-and we found a lot of worms.” She grinned, eyes wide and excited. She got her cadences from Eddie, that was for sure, more exaggerated and dramatic with each passing day.

“Are you going to hunt bugs with us?” Jude asked, pulling on the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. “Will you? Please?”

“Yeah, of course, I will.” Eddie smiled, shaking his head softly. “Do you have a spare shovel for me? Can you go find the little red one?”

Jude looked at you. “I think it’s in the garage with the basketball.” You nodded towards the garage door. Jude ran off, footsteps heavy, Lucy squirming to get down and chase after him. “But- hey! Put everything back where it goes, Jude Wayne! And do not climb on anything!” You called after him, voice teetering on stern.

“I got it!” Jude called back.

Eddie’s chest puffed in boasting pride, grinning at the boy. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Hm, wonder who that sounds like?” You said sarcastically, giving Eddie a pointed glare.

“That’s my boy. What can I say?” Eddie grinned, shrugging lightly. You grinned, shaking your head. “So, uh, where’re you going tonight?” Eddie tried not to sound so awkwardly needy, but it came out exactly like that.

“Oh,” You could feel your body stiffen, a warm embarrassed heat creeping up your spine. “I, uh, I- Well, I’m going out.” You paused, fiddling with straightening something on a shelf, anything to avoid his gaze. “I…I have a date tonight.”

Eddie’s heart sank, falling deep into the pit of his stomach. “Oh.” He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. “I, uh, I didn’t know you were… Ya know, um, gettin’ back out there.”

“Well, I- I mean it wasn’t exactly planned.” Your thumb went back to your ring finger, rubbing the bare skin there. You used to twist your ring when you were feeling anxious, a soothing mechanism.

“Lydia at work set me up on a blind date with her cousin. The-The accountant guy.” You cringed at your words, spouting in a word vomit that you couldn’t seem to stop. Your heart was racing, stuttering to a halt and rearing back with every fall of Eddie’s face.

“I-I mean, I just… She’d been asking me since-since,” Since the divorce, the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. “A-And I figured why not. I mean…” You waved your hand between the two of you, the tension uncomfortable and thick.

“No, no, yeah,” Eddie nodded, swallowing back a burn of emotions he tried to conceal. “No, that’s- you should. Not that- I mean, you don’t need me to tell you that, but,” Eddie took a breath, finally meeting your nervous gaze. “You’ll have a good time.”

“Yeah?” You squeaked, wringing your hands anxiously. Eddie had flashbacks to years before, when you two were a lot younger, your nervous demeanor asking for his reassurance before sneaking onto the football field at midnight.

Eddie’s heart ached at the memory, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean, he’s lucky to get to go out with you. You’re… You’re the best, you know that.” Eddie reassured you now just like he did then, just like he always did.

“Thank you.” You whispered, turning just as Jude and Lucy came back in, triumphantly waving the red, plastic shovel. “I, um, I’m going to get ready. There’s a frozen pizza in the freezer. I’ll preheat the oven, if you can just stick it in.”

“I got it.” Eddie waved you off, forcing a reassuring smile. “You go get ready. Have fun, sweetheart.” His smile was warm, leaving you burning in excitement. Still, when he left, you were filled with a sinking, nauseating feeling of dread, nerves.

Heidi would tell you that you were co-dependent, that Eddie had made you that way. She never liked him, not in highschool, especially not after the divorce. She was always reminding you that you could do better, that you should do better.

That always sparked a fight, one of the many that you and Eddie had over and over and over. His accusatory tongue lashing accusations at you, your defenses climbing higher and higher, both too stubborn to let it go. You were reminded of the fight that did it- that caused the divorce. Days- no, weeks of back and forth.

“You know, there’s times I wish I would have skipped school that day!” Eddie roared, voice hoarse and scratchy from the screaming match you two had been having. “I was supposed to skip with Gareth, but I fucking went, and you know what? I wish I wouldn’t have! Then we would have never gotten paired up and I wouldn’t be dragged into all this shit with you! I wouldn’t be so miserable all the goddamn time!”

His words rang in your head, stinging just as much then as they did now. You took a breath, that haunting memory was the final push you needed to step into the shower, to get ready, and to try and start something new without Eddie.

“So, Lydia tells me you have a kid.” Matthew asked, swirling his wine around in his glass.

The restaurant was obnoxiously expensive, much more stuffy than what you expected on the first date. You felt terribly underdressed, in a sundress you hadn’t worn in years, fitting a little tighter now since Lucy. Note to self, go dress shopping next time.

“Yeah, I do,” You smiled politely, the tension still a little uncomfortable, unfamiliar. “Jude and Lucy.”

“Oh,” Matthew’s brows raised, tone clipping in shock. “Two?”

“Yeah,” You swallowed back that familiar burning in your chest, the one that always came with judgment. Raised brows and pointed glares, being pregnant in highschool, you thought you’d be used to it by now.

“Uh, how-how old are they?” Matthew asked, fingers tapping nervously on the table. So much tension, and you hadn’t even gotten your food yet.

“Jude is seven, and Lucy just turned four.” You felt your chest boast with pride. Talking about your kids, that could soothe you, it always did.

“Wow,” You weren’t sure how Matthew’s brows could go any higher, but somehow they did. “That’s… I’m sorry, you just, you look really young to have kids that age.”

“I am,” You shrugged sheepishly. “I, um, I had Jude in high school. My senior year.” You tried not to flinch, to steel yourself for the inevitable look- the one that always gave you.

“High school?” Matthew’s tone skittered on a scoff, leaving you burning with embarrassment- with shame. Why’re you embarrassed about it? Best thing that ever happened to me, Eddie would always say, scoffing nonchalantly when you were younger and someone gave you a snarling glace in the supermarket, two teens pushing a baby around in a shopping cart.

“Yeah,” You looked down at your hands under the table. This was what you dreaded, the ‘getting back out there’ phase. You had forgotten how utterly painful it was, worse now than when you were a teen.

“My ex-husband and I got married out of high school.” You continued, trying to break up the uncomfortable silence. “After- Well, before we had Jude, but after I found out I was pregnant.”

“Oh,” Matthew didn’t look at you, looking anywhere but you really. “That’s why you divorced then? Makes sense.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “No, no, that’s- that’s not why.” It wasn’t entirely true, at least, part of the reason but not the whole reason.

“It’s not?” Matthew raises a brow, scoffing with unimpression before downing the rest of his wine. “Look, I’m not trying to offend you, but I’m not dumb. Pregnant in high school, married the baby daddy because it was the right thing to do, right? And then what? Had another when things got rough to try and save the marriage?”

Your heart dropped, frozen in mortification, fear maybe, in your seat. “I’m right, aren’t I? I mean, it’s a tale as old as time, Sugar.” Your cheeks burned at the nickname. That wasn’t your nickname, not what Eddie called you, and even if he did- it never sounded condescending and mean like it did when it came from Matthew.

“No shame in it, just own up to it.” Matthew scoffed, leaning back in his seat. You felt small sitting across from him, his lips pursed, rolling over your frame with such judgment it made your stomach turn. “Lying on the first date doesn’t seem like the best option.”

“Excuse me,” You swallowed, grabbing your purse with shaky, sweaty palms. “I have to go to the restroom.” You didn’t wait for his response, the sinking feeling in your stomach only worsening with every step towards the door.

The Hideout was only a block away, still standing strong on the outskirts of the newly renovated downtown. You were surprised it hadn’t conformed to the trendy chic wave that was hitting everywhere, but selfishly you were glad it stayed the same. The wooden booths and dollar drafts, just the same as they’d always been.

The corner booth in the back caught your eye, occupied by a young couple- barely legal looking. Probably snuck in here with a fake, buzzing with adrenaline and the thrill that they might be caught, sharing a pitcher. That was you and Eddie, not too long ago. He’d snuck you in on your third or fourth date. You’d never been so nervous, never felt so alive at the same time. A goody-two-shoes, Eddie called you with a sweet grin, sliding you a beer across the table and slipping in next to you in that booth.

Your heart ached at the memory, chest heavy with emotion. Why couldn’t he have just been better? Why couldn’t you just have been better? Why couldn’t both of you be better to each other, for each other?

The heavy weight of regret settled on your chest, mixing with the draining heaviness of the night. You looked at the phone on the wall, digging in your purse for quarters. You couldn’t call Lydia, not after you’d stood up her fix up, left him in the restaurant. Robin was undoubtedly not home on a Friday night.

Sighing, you cradled the phone to your ear, slipping the quarters in the slot, finger jamming the numbers. The line trilled once, twice, your fingers tapping on your crossed arm. By the third ring, you were ready to hang up, give up and call your sister.

“Munson residence,” Eddie’s voice was soft, still with that lilt of playfulness that made your heart swoon. He’d been so excited when you two got the house, when you got your own landline. He’d answered the phone all posh and silly, claiming you two were “high society” now, moving up in the world.

“Eddie,” Your breath shook, chest rattling when you heard his voice, a soothing force after the stress of the night. “It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?” Eddie snapped on the other end, not missing a beat. “What happened? You alright?”

“I’m… I’m at The Hideout.” You cupped your hand over the phone’s end, trying to muffle the loud music. “I just- Can you come get me?”

“I’m on my way.” Eddie didn’t miss a beat.

“Thank you,” You sighed in relief. “But, hey, don’t bring the kids. Please? I told them I was going out with Rob for a night out, and they’ll want to see her.”

“I won’t, sweetheart. They’re asleep anyways.” Eddie muttered. You could hear his keys rattling in the background. “Let me call Wheeler and see if he can pop over to watch them. I think he’s home for the summer. Gimme a few and I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, nose burning with tears you couldn’t shed- you wouldn’t shed. Not again.

“C’mon, not a problem.” Eddie waved you off gently. “Hang tight, baby. Be there soon.”

You waited until you heard the dial line to hang up. Your heart sunk and fluttered at the same time, head reeling with a tornado of emotions that left you dizzy. Sinking onto an open stool at the end of the bar, you ordered a beer, the same one Eddie had ordered you years before. You didn’t care much for the taste now, your palette had grown and expanded since you were fifteen. But something tonight had you craving it, maybe craving the memory, the feeling that came with the first time you drank it. Chasing down a nostalgia that you didn’t want tainted.

Eddie was there before you could finish your second beer, only a few sips in. He slid into the chair beside you, hand gliding over your shoulder in greeting. He started to lean in, lips moving to brush your cheek, but he stopped himself before he could, waving down the bartender instead.

“So,” Eddie tapped the sticky wood top of the bar. “Bad date?”

“The worst.” You muttered, taking another swig of your beer. “Guy was a total ass.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s jaw ground tight, flexing with protective anger. “You want me to kill him?”

You snorted, lips curling in a small grin. “No, he’s not worth that.” You hummed, propping your head in your hand. “He was just an asshole. A total fucking asshole.”

“What’d he say?” Eddie bit, hands buzzing, though he tried to play it cool.

“Oh, the usual- teen mom, divorced, so clearly I’m the biggest loser in the world.” You muttered, lip jutting in a pout, looking down at the ring of condensation left behind by your beer.

“He said that?” Eddie snapped, eyes widening in a crazed way you hadn’t seen in a while. “Fucking piece of shit, I’ll beat the dogwalking shit out of him-”

“-No, he didn’t. He didn’t say it like that.” You shook your head, placing a calming hand on his arm. “It was implied. He was… He was just not nice, and I felt like it was getting worse, so I left. Came here instead.”

Eddie nodded, the tension between the two of you a little uncomfortable. The bartender slid him his own beer, saving the two of you from the awkward silence. Eddie took his beer, tilting it toward you with a soft smile.

“That guys a fucking idiot. Doesn’t know what he’s missed out on.” Eddie’s lips were tight in a pain-filled smile he tried to force, but his eyes gave him aways. They always gave him away.

“Thanks.” You muttered, cheeks burning with a tingling heat. “How were the kids tonight?”

“Good.” Eddie nodded, swallowing his drink. “Jude found a centipede. Lucy was not a fan.”

You grinned. “I don’t blame her. You didn’t let him bring it in?”

“No. C’mon,” Eddie scoffed lightly. “No, I made him leave it outside. He wanted to keep it in his bug catcher, but I told him if it was meant to be his, it would stay. So he put it back in the grass.”

“Good. I’ll come looking for you if I see a centipede in the house.” You glared at him playfully. “Did you give them a bath?”

“Dinner, bath, even read them a story.” Eddie smirked at you. “I can be a good dad, sometimes, ya know. Not a total deadbeat all the time.” He teased, shoulder bumping with yours.

Your stomach twisted. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” You muttered, looking back at your beer.

“I was kidding.” Eddie said, setting his beer down. “Hey, I was just kidding. I know you’re just looking out for the munchkins, Mama.”

You swooned under his cooing praise, heart swelling with adoration. “I didn’t- I would never say you’re a bad dad. You’re not a bad dad, Eddie.” You met his gaze. “You’re the best dad to them.”

Eddie’s cheeks pinkened under your praise, chin ducking with a blush. “Thank you,” He whispered, fingers tapping the bar top. “Just a shitty husband then?”

You rolled your eyes lightly. “No,” You clicked your tongue playfully. “Not a shitty husband. Not all the time anyways.”

Eddie grinned, dimples deep, eyes brightening. “You had your good moments.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hummed, leaning in towards you. “Like when?”

You’re body burned, electric tingles shooting to your core. The look in his eyes, squinting just barely, lips pursing, tongue rolling over his teeth- a look you were all too familiar with. You knew better, knew so much better than to let him sway you, to give into your urges.

“Hm, I can think of a few times.” You purred, leaning in closer to him, lashes batting sweetly. “Maybe you could remind me?”

Eddie’s wide grin stood the test of time. The same wild, excited grin he’d give you years ago hadn’t changed, it still left you spinning, abandoning your better judgment, following him with blinders into anything.

“Christ, I fuckin’ missed you.” Eddie moaned, breathy and quiet, lips pressing to yours in fever.

You shuddered under his touch, his fingers circling your clit perfectly, expertly- he was, after all, been with you for so long, he knew exactly how you wanted it. The house was quiet, the drone of the TV on for background noise, hoping the kids wouldn’t wake up.

“Eddie,” You whispered, eyes rolling back, clawing his shoulder at a particularly perfect rub that had you seeing stars. “Fuck, that felt good.”

“Yeah? Feels good. I can always make you feel good, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, wet smooches trailing down your neck, down your collarbones. “Want me to make you feel better? Keep you feelin’ good? Lemme make you feel good.”

His hands moved, pushing down your dress. Eddie looked, trying to will his mind silent at the sight of your matching, lacy set. It drove Eddie to his knees to see you in it, but his heart dropped knowing you hadn’t picked it to wear it for him.

He shoved the lacy panties down, letting them pool at your ankles, hands sinking on your hips. You wiggled, stilling your hips to keep them from bucking when Eddie kissed your mound, teasing kisses all the way down to your slit.

“Spread your legs f’me.” Eddie’s breath ghosted over your skin, a half grin spreading across his features when you kicked your legs open, arching forward for him.

Eddie’s tongue ran teasingly over your left lip, your right, before licking a long stripe right through your wet folds. In the past, he would have teased you, toyed with you until you whined and begged for him to fuck you. Back when he used to have you whenever he wanted, he’d lived for that, but now, he didn’t have that luxury. He had to make the most of his time now, at your call, at your service.

You bit your fist, trying to swallow back a moan that threatened to tear out of your throat. Your vibrator, tucked away in your sock drawer, could never replace this- replace him. His touch, the rush of endorphins that came from the pleasure he gave you, always eager to please.

Finger raking through his curls, you tugged him further and further into you, hips grinding on his face. “Th-That’s it. That feels good.” You whispered.

Eddie moaned, sending waves of vibrations to your core, knees buckling under the feeling. Your breath caught, head tipping back to silence the moans, ripples of pleasure crashing over you.

“Okay, okay, stop.” You panted, pushing on the top of his head, trying to writhe out of his touch.

Eddie’s face fell in hurt, in fear, scanning your features. He knew it was coming, the inevitable that you’d change your mind, tell him you couldn’t do this. “I-I need you.” His heart leapt at your words. “I just need you right now, please.”

It felt like a dream, having you wrapped around him in every way. Buried inside you, Eddie tried to savor the feeling, really feel you in case this was the last time. Your legs tight around his hips, arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you as he fucked you into the mattress- into the bed that you both shared for so many years.

Your nails clawed down his back, biting at his shoulder to keep yourself quiet, toes curling in pleasure. Eddie’s hand slid between the two of you, circling your clit as he approached his own orgasm. He knew you were close, knew everything about you.

“Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. The best, the fuckin’ best, baby.” Eddie whispered, breath hot over your ear, nipping at your ear lobe. Your body shuddered, hips bucking with pleasure.

“Fuckin’ missed you. Missed you- ah.” Eddie whined, nearly cumming when your teeth bit his shoulder, the spark of pain making his slops get sloppier and sloppier.

Eddie’s lips moved to yours, biting your bottom lip, sucking on it while his fingers slid over your clit until you were shaking, flooding over his length. Your grip loosened, melting into the mattress as he finished, drilling into you.

“Fuck, feel so good. Fuckin’ love the way you feel.” Eddie looked down at you, eyes glassy and dazed from your own orgasm, lips bitten from him.

A final pump, a final grunt, and he was spilling inside you, hips still slowly rolling inside you, dropping his face into your neck. You held him tight, muffling his moans into your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Eddie rambled, chest to chest, heaving and clinging to the other.

A feeling settled around the two of you after you broke apart, laying side by side under the sheets, the house still, quiet, filled with a tension you couldn’t quite figure out.

“I’m sorry you had a shitty date.” Eddie muttered, voice a little raspy.

“‘S alright.” You sighed, stretching under the sheets. “Ended pretty good, all things considered.”

“Yeah it did.” Eddie grinned softly. “Missed you.”

Your heart ached, sinking in your chest. “I-I think you just missed having sex.”

“No,” Eddie said firmly, shaking his head. “No, I-I missed you. I missed this, us.” He rolled over, turning towards you.

“Eddie-”

“-No, I just- I’m sorry, and I know I was a dick, and I-I did some things, but, baby, we’re good. We’re so good together.” Eddie whispered, reaching for you. “We’re meant to be together. You know we are. It’s always been us, it’s always supposed to be us.”

“We’re not good together.” You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “We’re not good for each other.”

“Don’t say that.” Eddie’s eyes shined with hurt, shaking his head. “How-How can you say that-”

“-Because, we’re good now. Right now, but… but then it’ll be just like it was, and we’ll be right back to fighting.” You pressed your palms to your eyes, chest tightening with the post orgasm clarity, the realization of your mistake. You’d never learn your lesson, no matter how many times you’d go through this.

“Baby, we could go back to counseling. I just- We should try. I want to try, I want to be a family again. I want to be better this time. I promise I’ll be better this time, please.” Eddie reached for your hand, pulling them off your eyes. “Please, sweetheart, one more chance? I won’t… I won’t fuck it up.”

You squeezed his hand, body aching, yearning to lean into him. To agree, to nod and let him love on you, love you. To give him another chance, to see him wake up in the bed next to you, back in the house with the kids all the time.

But you couldn’t.

For them. Jude and Lucy had a hard enough time with the divorce, understanding why you two were separating. How did you explain to kids that mommy and daddy were like the weather; good some days, disastrous the other?

“I-I can’t, Eddie.” You whispered, looking at him with eyes shining. “Jude and Lucy…That’s not- This isn’t good for them.” Your breath shuttered, heart breaking in your chest.

Eddie’s own heart was breaking, you could see it on his face. “I just need time. I don’t know.” You admitted, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “But now, I just can’t now.”

Eddie nodded, swallowing around his own heart breaking. “Alright,” He nodded. “Whatever you decide, I’ll… I’ll always support you. I’ll always love you, too. No matter what.”

Your lip wobbled, squeezing his hand tight in yours. “Thank you.” You whispered. “I just need some time, Eddie.”

“I’ve got time. I’ll wait.” Eddie nodded, pressing a kiss to your knuckles gently. “Always here for you.” He pulled you close to him, arms wrapped around your frame, squeezing you tight to his chest.

For a moment, you relaxed, let yourself feel at peace as he held you. Allowed yourself that selfishness in the still of the night. You’d stay like that for a while, until you sent him to the couch. “Things are confusing as it is for them. They don’t need to get their hopes up if they see us in the bed together.” And Eddie would do it, of course he would. He’d do it for you, for them, for the hope that he might one day get his family back to normal. Back to the way it should be.

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eccentricwritingbaby · 6 months ago

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baby finn series, preparations

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series masterlist

summary - lando and y/n begin their quest to prepare for their baby on the way, while their first baby is just happy to be included.

masterlist

“baby? do you have everything?” you called out to your three year old, attempting to teach him some independence with his attire, yet regretting it instantly. finn walked into your view wearing a bright red ferrari t shirt, purple shorts, mismatched socks, and a papaya mclaren baseball cap to top off the look.

“well don’t you look dashing?” your husband laughs out from behind you towards his son.

“tank you, dada!” finn happily screeches back, “i pick it by myself!”

“you did?!” lando fakes his surprise to the young boy, holding his chest and raising his eyebrows for the emphasis, “you’re such a big boy, finn!”

“i am! i big like you dada!” finn jumps at the praise and begins to clap, excited by the attention and thrill of being compared to his father. you couldn’t help but join in on the laughs and allow finn to go out as he was dressed, even though you really wanted him to be a bit more coordinated - you couldn’t be bothered with the day ahead of you.

you and lando were preparing the nursery today, and the first stop was shopping. although you had the large items such as the crib and changing station from finn, you wanted this baby to also have newer items and ones that were their own. especially since after finn grew out of most of his things, lando had just donated them in order to clear up space in the home.

there was also another reason - the sex of the baby. you and lando had found out yesterday, and wanted a fresh nursery.

yesterday - doctor’s office

you were lying back in the chair, gown on and ready for your ultrasound. lando’s hand had not left yours since getting out of the car on the way in. his grip was tight, as was your own. you were both riddled with nerves to find out the gender today.

“i’m so excited,” you squeak out in a whisper to your husband, giggles filling your voice due to the butterflies filling your stomach.

“me too, y/n. i hope it’s a girl,” he breathes out, joining in your quiet laughter, attempting to tame the nerves.

“i think it will be, i had a dream two nights ago with a pink nursery in it,” you relay back to him, lando just stares back at you with a wide smile, a hand coming up slowly to stroke your stomach.

and it was a girl. a strong, healthy girl the doctor said would be the size of a bell pepper at five months along. you and lando were absolutely giddy for the shopping trip and so was finn. to welcome little baby girl norris into this world in a few months was all the buzz in the home. finn was absolutely raving about having a little sister as you and your husband were so happy he was taking it well.

“alright norris family, time to go!” lando calls out from the front door, “let’s go!”

“i coming! i coming!” finn yells out, wobbling out of his room and towards lando’s legs. he stops an inch before the crash into them, but not without losing his balance and tumbling into your husband’s sturdy hold. not trusted by his own two feet anymore, he’s now perched on lando’s hip as you walk towards the door.

“i think i’ve got everything,” you sigh out, looking into your bag one last time.

“snacks?” lando asks, to begin your routine of a verbal checklist ever since your baby brain had kicked in.

“goldfish and pretzels,” you reply, hearing a quiet ‘yay’ with a clap from your first-born.

“wallet?”

“yes,”

“keys,”

“you have those,”

“right, wipes?”

“yes, i think it’s all here,”

“okay, we can always stop back if we need anything,” lando assures you as he pulls you closer for a quick kiss to the lips, “now let’s go if we want to get back a bit early,”

“right, right,” you move to kiss your son’s head and give him a quick tickle, “we’ve gotta go before dada’s in a mood, right baby?” finn giggles at your antics as lando rolls his eyes with a laugh, pushing his family out of the door.

“momma! this one!” finn yells out into the store, leading you to turn around and see what he was presenting you with.

“oh, honey,” you chuckle in amusement, “lan, look what our lovely son wants to purchase for our daughter,” you grab lando’s attention and he just groans beside you.

“really, finn? ferrari merch for my daughter too?” lando playfully scolds his son as finn just pushes the little red onesie closer to your filled up cart, “nuh uh, back it up mister,” lando grabs the onesie from finn and places it back on the rack, instead trading it for a certain papaya one.

“is that better for you and your ego, lan?” you ask with a laugh, poking his stomach to tease him further.

“i can handle finn being a fan, but this baby? she’s gonna be full on papaya,” he swats your hand away with a chuckle and scoops his son into his arms, “no more ferrari for baby girl, got it?” lando waves a warning finger in front of finn’s face, but his son just gurgles in happiness at his dad’s attention, continuously trying to grab hold of his hand.

“alright norris boys,” you announce to the two, “i think we have enough clothes and toys for baby girl until she’s four so let’s get going,” happy cheers erupt from the duo as you head to pay for your items.

your little growing family arrived home close to dinner time, you carrying two babies and a diaper bag as your husband dragged the multiple large bags of purchased items into your home.

“do you want to just throw those all into the nursery and we can sort it all tomorrow, lan?” you ask in his direction as you gently drop your son to his feet. with finn’s newfound freedom, he immediately runs over to his playmat in the living room, beginning the fairytale escapades of a three year old and a large amount of toy cars.

“yes, love,” lando answers your question and heads towards the nursery, but not without placing a kiss to your awaiting lips.

“i’m gonna get started on dinner,” you call back towards your husband as he starts towards the nursery.

“spaghetti?” your husband suggests with his signature puppy dog eyes.

“‘pageti!” his young twin cries out from the opposite direction, clapping his hands together for strong emphasis on his dinner choice.

“alright, spaghetti it is,” you giggle in amusement, “easier for me anyways,” you whisper the last part to yourself as you head into the kitchen and begin preparations.

shit. you think to yourself as you turn uncomfortably in bed. who forgot to close the curtains last night? as you think, the culprit himself opens them further and you groan at the blinding light cascading throughout your bedroom.

“lannnn,”

“i know, baby,” he laughs at you, proceeding to walk over towards you in bed, “but we have so much to do today in the nursery,”

“love, i know you’re excited to get this done,” as you look at him through squinted eyes, he takes a seat next to your horizontal frame, “but we do have four more months,”

“i know that,” lando begins, reaching his hand towards you to move your bed head out of your face, “but love, i’ve wanted to do all of this since you were seven weeks pregnant,”

“okay, fine,” you groan as he silently cheers, “help me up though,” he laughs, reaching both his hands around your body and lifting with ease. once stood on your own two feet after a few goodmorning kisses from lando, you head to the bathroom in order to wash up.

“our other baby will be up soon, so let’s knock out as much as we can before interruptions, yeah?” lando suggests as you start to brush your teeth. you simply nod in his direction and he happily runs over to give you a kiss on the forehead, “i’ll be in the nursery, come join me once you’re done,” with a light tap on the bum and one more kiss to the top of your head, your giddy husband races out of the room.

“it’s just you and me baby girl,” you caress your bump as you whisper to her, “we live in a house of crazy boys,” you laugh quietly to yourself at the memories, “but we all cannot wait to meet you,”

a/n - pls pls comment some baby girl names you'd enjoy to see! next couple chapters and she's hereee

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luveline · 6 months ago

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kbd —You gather the family consensus on a fifth baby. mom!reader x dad!Steve, 2k

The first baby you and Steve have is a ringer for him. She’s his copy down to the eyelashes, and she has his good heart. She’s a good sister, a beautiful daughter, and she’s a brilliant student.

But growing up makes you curious.

“Mom, why are you in the bathroom again?”

You laugh nervously. “What?” you ask, gaze on your hands.

“You’ve been in here like ten times today! Are you okay?”

She sound so, so cute when she’s suspicious. Her voice twists up and her concern feels too big. She knows it’s not normal to go to the bathroom this many times and she’s clearly not okay with this new development.

She knocks the door hard. “Do you need me to get dad?”

You open the door and pull her in quickly. She giggles, startled to be grabbed and put on the counter, her hair falling into her eyes the same wavy pattern as her dads. He’s got strong genes. Steve stamps the kids as Harrington’s, all except your Beth, who looks just like you.

“Mom, what the heck is going on?”

“I’m gonna ask you a huge question and you have to tell me your first answer. Don’t worry about anything else. Be honest, okay?”

“Okay. You’re making me nervous.”

You show her your pregnancy test. “You know what this means?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Did you pee on that?”

“I did. Babe, do you know what that means, though?”

“You’re having another baby?” Avery guesses. You go quiet. She beams at you. “Wait! Wait, mom, are you having another baby?”

“I don’t know yet.” One positive test and six negatives makes you think it was a mistake, but you’ve been pregnant four times before. You’re starting to feel like an expert. “If I did have another baby, what would you think?”

She tips her head back. You put the test aside and take her smaller hands into yours. She’s so pretty, all your babies are beautiful, and they’re all so special, and maybe you do want another one. Is that crazy?

You nibble your lip as Avery thinks.

“Well, we need a bigger house.”

You nod agreeably. “We do.”

“I love being a big sister.”

“You’re the best one there ever was.”

Avery holds your hands back, still smiling. “Well, mommy, I think it’s good. Then I will have four sisters. That’s even more than Stacey K.”

You look her dead in the eye, but it’s all love pouring between you both. “So if mommy wants to have another baby, that’s okay? You’d be happy?”

Avery puckers for a kiss, which you give. You wrap your arms around her and push her head into your neck. “Have another baby if you want, mommy,” she says, laughing, “I love babies. Um, most of the time. More now you got us the sound machine.”

“Avery… don’t tell anybody, okay? Can we keep this our secret? I don’t know if I’m gonna have another one yet. I need to make sure everyone’s happy first.”

Avery pats your back. It’s adorable. “Sure, mommy.”

You ask Beth, next. Stealing her away from her colouring sometime later that day, you pull your second eldest against your chest outside in the back yard and watch the clouds move in the sky as it changes from blue to carnation pink. “Bubby?”

“Yeah?” Beth asks.

“Can I ask you a secret question?”

“Yes.” She looks away from the sky. “Why?”

“Because I care about what you think, okay?”

“I know.”

You ask Beth if another baby would be too many. She says no. She says she needs a brother, maybe twins if you can manage it, but it’s fine if you can’t. You kiss her cheek and spend another ten minutes with her staring up at the changing colours.

The first test being positive rocked your world. You were happy, but shocked to find yourself grinning at the two pink lines, because you thought four was enough. There’s a few years between each of your girls and you’d never expect to be pregnant again so soon after the last —you and Steve had one good night a fortnight ago. Wren’s not even a year old.

Why do you want another baby so badly?

You kiss Beth again. You love your kids, and you finally, finally got that promotion at work, and you’d been thinking about moving anyway, because two of the girls are sharing a room. You didn’t bring it up in fear of upsetting your sentimental husband before it was necessary. All your babies grew up here. This is where you and Steve started your life, and it’s never perfect but it’s amazing, and he’ll not want to leave it.

He would be much happier if you left to make room for another baby, though.

If you ask Dove what she thinks, she’ll probably say yes and grumble, and then spill the secret, so you don’t ask, but you watch her carefully for a while when Steve demands you and Beth come back inside.

You let Beth run off and sit down.

“You’ll catch a bug,” he says, leaning over your seat at the kitchen table to kiss your cheek. “You’re already freezing.”

“We were watching the sun go down.”

“Watch from the window.” He squints at you, his arms wrapping around your front. “Something wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay, liar.” He taps your chin until you lift it and kisses you soundly. “It’s a good thing you’re this beautiful. You wouldn’t get away with your shit if you weren’t.”

“My shit.”

He grins into another kiss. “Sorry,” he says, kissing you softly. “I’m kidding, I love you, don’t frown at me.”

You entrap him for a skewiff hug. He couldn’t be more eager, nosing at your cheek, the baby and Dove giggling at something where they sit at the table eating skinny banana slices.

“They’re like us,” Steve says, following your gaze, “best friends.”

You push him away from you gently. “Shush. Don’t you have stuff to do?”

“I bet you think so. But no, I don’t, I’ve done everything.”

Four kids is a lot, and somehow you and Steve have gotten really, really good at being their parents. You have four healthy, happy girls, with all the food they could ever eat and more princess dresses than they could ever wear. Now it’s six thirty on a Saturday and all that’s left to do is watch some TV.

Maybe you’re an idiot to mess this up.

“I need to pee really badly, so watch the baby.”

“Jerk,” you say. You do not need to be told to watch your own baby.

He snickers as he leaves.

It was the high of the test. That first positive test was just a shock, is all. Your life is perfect now, nothing needs to change, because Steve loves you more and more everyday, and you adore him —you’d do anything for him and your girls. You and Steve would treasure another baby, but some things aren’t meant to be.

But– but you could have another one. So you’re not pregnant right now, so what? Steve would have another baby with you if you asked. He’d probably spin you around in circles and call you the best, sweetest woman alive. You could spend the next nine months on the couch and he’d still think that way.

“Baby?” Steve calls.

“What, dad?” Bethie asks.

“Not you, baby. Mommy, can you come here?”

Your system gets another shock. Shit, the bathroom.

You grab Wren to her horror and Dove’s jealousy and chug her along to the bathroom. You could’ve left her in her high chair, but soft bananas are a scary task for an unsupervised baby who eats mash for every meal.

Steve’s waiting in the doorway. It’s a small bathroom, and you can see as quickly as he can the mess of pregnancy strip tests you left on top of the bathroom trash can. There’s two in his hand.

“Steve, I was gonna tell you about it,” you say, frowning.

He frowns back. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Really. I mean, obviously I would have,” —you tell each other everything— “but I was trying to work out how I feel, and the girls too. Avery always wants more sisters and Beth said she wants a brother and–” You smile. “I know I said we were done having babies for a while, if ever again, I know that was me, but when I thought I was pregnant again I got this rush of happiness going through me like a wave.” You shift Wren and her frowning higher up your chest. She’s appeased by a quick kiss pressed to the top of her head. “I don’t know why but I think I really want another baby.”

He leans against the doorway, his arms crossing, with a strange expression playing on his mouth.

“You can probably tell. I took like, twenty tests,” you exaggerate, embarrassed by your impromptu speech. “I kept hoping they’d come up positive. I got one positive first and the rest were negative, so I guess it was just a fluke.”

“Ohhh,” he says, smiling around it. “Oh, that makes more sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“I think they just needed a little more time to cook, honey. They’re all positive.” He isn’t good at hiding how happy he feels. “You really want another one?”

He’s achingly hopeful.

You close the gap between you to lean on him and check the tests. “It must be super early,” Steve murmurs.

“Well, it was only two and a half weeks ago,” you murmur back, seeing the double pink lines for yourself. Both tests are positive. “The ones in there, they’re…”

“They’re all positive. When was the last time you had your eyes tested?”

“It was dark in there,” you joke, not sure what to say, even as a crest of pure joy begins to rise through your entire body. Your hands hum.

“You want another baby?” he asks, pulling you tightly against him. “Then let’s have another baby. Let’s do it. You can have everything you want.”

You stare at him.

He nods. “We can do it. Let’s have another baby.”

Heat in your eyes, the barest line of tears in your waterline as you give him a one-armed hug. “You want to?” you ask.

He breathes out by your ear. “That’s a dumb question. And it’s pretty good luck, right? I mean, we weren’t trying, I didn’t even know you wanted another one, so for it to catch…” He does that groaning pleased thing where he buries his nose against the side of your face.

“I didn’t know until the test was in my hand.”

He laughs happily into your skin before he pulls away. He kisses you, he kisses Wren, and he flicks your tummy gently. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of Harringtons.”

You get another loving kiss for all your efforts. “Steve?” you ask, eyes still closed, his face hovering just an inch away from your own.

“What, honey?” He says it like light of my life, angel, sweetheart, all the devotion you're used to.

“We’re probably gonna have to move.”

“Are you kidding? I already figured it all out. We’re gonna convert the attic.”

You laugh as he dots a kiss against your cheek. “We are?”

“I got a quote a couple of months ago, I figured if Beth and Avery got too picky we could give Avery a new room upstairs. But it’ll still work, don’t you think?”

You finally descend into giggly happy tears and Steve pretends he’s immune, but you hear him sniffing as you stroke Wren's chubby cheek with your finger. “What do you think, sweetheart?” you ask softly. “Do you want a baby sister? How about a brother? What are you thinking?”

She gurgles her own laugh. “Da,” she says, pointing at Steve like he’s funny.

“Do I get to decide?” Steve asks her, gasping happily.

Steve has a lot more to say about it all later that night when the kids are sleeping, baby Wren on his chest, just for an hour before you both sleep too.

He starts with asking if you’re sure, which you are for now, then the scary stuff, because you got really exhausted last time and it’s not going to be easier. He talks so much and you just lay there, in awe, because he means what he told you. You can have everything you want. Steve’s gonna make sure of it.

“I’ll get you some prenatals in the morning, okay?” he promises, stroking hearts into Wren’s sleeping back.

You shift over the pillow to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, H. I love you.”

“I love you so much I don’t think you get it,” he says, tipping his head your way.

But you do. It’s why five kids feels like a gift, and not a curse. You get how much he loves you.

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bangaveragewhitewine · 7 days ago

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⋆⁺₊❅ meet the parents

single dad Eddie Munson x single mom Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: For my fourth and final fic of @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas, I bring you a romcom-worthy meet cute! A one-night stand in a small town is always a dangerous game.

Content: Eddie and Reader are both single parents. Modern AU. P in V and oral sex. Too many feelings for a one-night stand. Reader’s shitty ex mention. Small town dynamics. Light on Christmas, heavy on Eddie being a sexy menace. If you see any typos/messy sentences lmk!!

Just an extra little note to say the biggest THANK YOU to @littlexdeaths for putting together these wonderful Promptmas ideas, and for just being completely lovely and amazing too. I have had such a fun few weeks working on writing again, it’s been a crazy few months for me personally so this has been the best way to get back into writing and feeling creative again!! I’ve loved every minute ❤️

✨bang average festive fics✨ Eddie Munson fics ✨Dividers by @strangergraphics✨

It has been quite a few years since you woke up in a stranger’s bed.

More used to the morning time routine of trying to get a sleepy six-year-old up and ready for the day, or the heartwarming feeling of said six-year-old making her way into your bed to cuddle on sleepy Sundays, you feel a little out of your depth this morning.

And some degree of hungover.

But it could be worse, you supposed. The stranger’s bed was comfy and he had plenty of pillows for you to sleep on. His sheets were clean and he had not totally smothered you like a limpet all night, nor had he expected you to get up and leave while you were still catching your breath. He was a fairer bedmate than your daughter, and it was pleasant to wake up with the warm weight of his inked arm around you rather than a kid’s-size-twelve foot digging into your ribs, or her hair in your mouth.

You sink into the comfort of it all, relishing that long-forgotten post-great-sex ache all over and the feeling of waking after a deep and dreamless sleep. You had not been this well-rested in almost seven years.

Next to you, he is asleep on his stomach with his arm across your middle. The room is dusky dark, but you can still make out the tattoos along his pale bare body and the glint of his nose ring, the spill of long dark hair piled up on his head. He is much softer now than when you met in the bar last night, no coy smirk or wolfish grin, no deep dimples on his cheeks. His whiskey eyes are still shut, and you feel warm all over when you remember how he had looked at you like you were the only woman in the bar, in the world, last night. How he had taken you home and taken you apart right here in his navy sheets.

Carefully, trying not to wake the man next to you, you ease yourself up to check your phone. It’s far too early to worry about picking Hazel up yet.

Not for the first time, you say a silent thanks to the universe for your neighbour for agreeing to babysit Hazel so that you could have a well-deserved Christmas night out with the friends you had made at work. You will bring her a nice hand-tied bouquet from the shop next week, just because. Without Claudia and her kindness to lean on, you know that going it alone in this small new town would so be much harder. It had been serendipitous really, moving in next door to an older and wiser woman who had been in the very same position as you when her son was not much older than Hazel. You begin piecing together the perfect bouquet for her, eucalyptus and rose and red ribbon, distracting yourself briefly from the dull ache in your head and the dry feeling on your tongue.

He brought you a glass of water before you fell asleep together. It’s cool in your throat, though it barely touches the sides of the discomfort pressing behind your brows. When the glass is mostly empty, you settle back next to him and let yourself doze for a little longer.

Eddie instinctively pulls you closer in his sleep, his warm morning breath tickling your shoulder and neck. You know it is just temporary, he is still a stranger, but let yourself enjoy the fleeting comfort while it lasts.

“Morning.”

His voice is rough and smoky, and there’s a tired smile waiting for you when you open your eyes a while later. You are struck by how pretty he is, handsome and hot but pretty with it; long dark lashes and doe-eyes, cheekbones to die for.

“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel yourself smiling back at him, feeling dreamy and oh-so-comfortable. You stretch your body out, relishing the rush of blood and oxygen to your muscles and your eyes drop closed again at that so-good feeling.

“Sleeping Beauty.”

When Eddie kisses your hair, you miss how he closes his eyes and savours the moment; you are too busy basking in the unexpected tenderness of this one-night stand, the easiness of waking up slow with a man you met less than twelve hours ago. Even if it is just for this morning, you soak it up.

“Mhmm. You have a comfy bed,” you whisper, looking up at him again.

You brush your fingertips along his silver chain before tracing up to his jaw, past the tendrils of hair escaping his scrunchie. You know the feeling of that dark grown-out and nicely-maintained stubble, how it brushed and burned so good on the inside of your thighs, how it feels against your lips.

Tentatively, bravely, you press your mouth against his and feel his smile. It’s sweet, slow. Intimate and lovely.

“Yeah? M’glad you think so,” he murmurs and steals one more kiss before pulling you against his body.

Last night as you basked in the afterglow, Eddie asked so quietly if he could hold you and you almost teared up about it. It had been a long time since anyone had held you like that, like he is holding you again this morning. It has been a long time since anyone has been sweet to you, shared closeness and intimacy like this. Not since the man you loved upped and left, leaving you and one-year-old Hazel with only each other to love.

You feel the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly. There’s a stirring, hardening interest against your thigh and yet he’s not being too forward or pushy. He’s just holding you, just ‘coz.

“I don’t… S’a while since I had a sleepover,” he admits, running his blunt nails over the small of your back. “You didn’t hog the covers, and you didn’t sneak off without saying bye…”

Eddie pulls back a little, wearing that small flirty smile that made you swoon last night. His voice is so playful, even though it is deep with morning huskiness.

“Still here,” you whisper back, “I… It’s been a while for me too. I don’t usually… Yeah.” You shrug, you know he gets it.

There is a glint of something in his eyes before he looks up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we did. I had fun.”

The dimple in his cheek is beautiful and bashful, and when he looks at you again his eyes go right to your lips.

“Me too.” You touch his chain again and tug gently to bring your lips together again, putting you both out of your misery.

No one has ever kissed you like Eddie did last night, with all-consuming lust that made you feel electric. He is a blend of rough and smooth, a firm guiding hand followed by a gentle caress. You have never felt so wanted, so craved.

The way he kisses you this morning pushes aside the thoughts of all you need to do today. All you know is want, the cloying feeling of wanting to touch and be touched, craving pleasure. With his hands to guide, you straddle his lap and lean into the feeling of his fingertips wandering past the hem of the t-shirt he loaned you last night.

Eddie looks up at you like you’re some sort of deity, his eyes and lips shining as you peel off the t-shirt and throw it behind you, leaving yourself bare in his lap. He was not put off by the stretch marks, or the Mom Body you felt so self-conscious about sometimes. Nor was he put off by the fact that you are a Mom. Eddie had simply smiled when you briefly mentioned your daughter, told you he had his own little girl without giving too much away. With that fresh layer of yourselves on show, you could understand each other just a little bit more without going full gushing-parent mode, sharing pictures of your little angels or ranting about who loved Bluey and loathed Peppa more.

His fingers run over the stretch marks on your hips, starting up a slow grind as he kisses your neck (remembering your ‘no marks’ rule). There is a slight chill in the air to remind you that beyond this liminal bliss, it is a frosty December morning, but Eddie warms you up and distracts you without second thought.

In the gauzy light, you see touches of fatherhood around his room, easily missed in the passion of last night - a framed drawing on his bedside table, a kiddie hair clip in his ring dish. You smile to yourself and shiver when his warm breath skates over the damp trail of kisses.

“Pretty smile,” he murmurs, needing to taste and feel it again.

Hands wander and squeeze and you get drunk on each other all over again in the cocoon of Eddie’s bed. You blindly follow his dark treasure trail before taking him in hand, hot and diamond-hard, and savour the taste and sound of his moan. Your aching need for him is tempered and satiated by his fingers and you flush hot all over when he encourages you to scoot up and let him taste you, almost begging for it. Dazed with want, you find yourself clinging to the headboard with white knuckles and his name spilling from your lips.

Eddie could die a happy man with your thighs bracketing his head. The taste of you makes him feel drunk as you take your pleasure from him; the needy roll of your hips is encouraged by his greedy hands in contrast to how cautious and careful you had been not to trap and tug his hair beneath your knees.

When you are sufficiently dumb with pleasure, he lays you back against the pillows and lays out his desire for you in between messy kisses, losing his train of thought when you get your hand back on him and whisper back your need for him to fuck you now. Eddie reaches blindly for the (blessedly still-in-date) box of foil-wrapped packets in his drawer, not wanting to look away from you for even a moment.

He holds your hand as he makes love to you and you have to remind yourself not to get too caught up in how sweet Eddie is, even when he his making you feel like you have never been so full; sweetness and filthy words wound together so sweetly. It’s overwhelming and he catches you fighting tears when you feel too good.

“Hey,” he whispers, wearing too much worry between his brows. “Do you want to stop, sweetheart? Am I hurting you?”

A guy being decent should not make your heart swell like this, and yet it does. You shake your head, tears spill over and he brushes them away with care.

“No, no. You’re not hurting me,” you promise. “I feel really good. S’just a lot.”

Your voice wobbles and he smiles fondly against your mouth, relieved and happy to be wanted in return.

Eddie has this magnetism, warm and cloying and a little mysterious; it makes you feel comfortable even when he’s teasing you and making you flush hot all over.

“Yeah, baby? That’s what I’m here for,” he whispers, and kisses you slowly, sweetly. “Let me make you feel good.” You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. He can feel it hammering against him as he starts up a slow roll of his hips that fills you completely.

Your fingers clutch at the sheets as Eddie fucks you into his mattress. Nothing else matters in those moments, only pleasure. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into the meat and muscle of his arm, lick the drip of sweat from his neck. Instead, you taste the way he moans your name and cling to him when you come just moments apart - you first, then him.

He shares his water with you afterwards when he sees your empty glass; you are both damp with sweat and lying side by side with your heartbeats pounding in your ears, the lingering taste of each other on your tongues.

When he kisses you again, his lips are water-cooled and tender.

“Can I make you some coffee? I have to pick up my little terror in a bit…” he says, already cringing at himself. “She’s great, I swear. I promised her diner pancakes for brunch.”

Reality trickles back in, a not-unpleasant cooling off of your morning together.

“Yeah, I should probably not show up in last night’s clothes to pick my kid up. Coffee sounds good.”

There was always an expiry date on this; the boundaries of a one-night stand were set and familiar, despite how long it has been and despite how easy and intimate this morning has been. You’re both adults, both okay with it.

“Cool.” He smiles and hauls himself out of bed, stepping into his lost and found again boxers before he doubles back to kiss your cheek.

When your legs are steady enough he shows you how the shower works, leaving you to it with a new toothbrush, fresh towels and a familiar squeeze to your bare hip. There’s a little part of you that wants him to join you, waste hot water and let him press you against the cold tiles. Eddie wants that too, to delay your inevitable parting of ways and return to reality.

When you look in the mirror, you see a well-fucked woman; kiss-bitten lips and that long-lost post-sex glow.

“What the fuck,” you murmur to yourself, giggling a little when you think over the last twelve hours.

You had not gone out looking for a hookup last night, but you made the most of the festive excuse to go for drinks with the few friends you had made since moving to Hawkins six months ago. Catching Eddie’s eye at the bar had been a happy accident. A happy accident that lead to letting him buy you a drink, and then buying him one back. Your friends had wholeheartedly encouraged it, knew him to see around town and vouched for him as a mechanic. Good with his hands, they had teased. Oh, how right they had been.

The water is hot and Eddie’s shower gel is the typical ‘for men’ scented sort of thing. You feel fresh and clean when you step back into the bedroom, finding sweats and an Iron Maiden hoodie on the bed for you, alongside your clothes from last night (which Eddie has attempted to fold neatly, instead of leaving you to pick them up from the floor).

It should not make you smile so much, but your cheeks ache pleasantly as you dress yourself, opting for last night’s jeans with Eddie’s sweater. It’s washed-soft and smells like the detergent you have at home with a hint of his cologne.

You follow the scent of coffee and the sound of music downstairs, finding more traces of parenthood on your way - a purple fairy door on the baseboard, a washing basket full of clean kids' clothes outside a closed bedroom door, light-up Skechers and silver glitter rain boots in the hall. There is something familiar about them, but brush it aside as something Hazel probably asked for in Target.

Eddie’s unbuttoned jeans hang low on his hips as he makes coffee in mismatched mugs, his hair is down tickling against his bare shoulders and back. There are drawings on the fridge and a Christmas tree peeking out from the living room. It feels like a happy home.

His eyes light up when he sees you, looking as hungry and enamoured by you in his hoodie as he had been when you were wearing nothing at all.

“Do you take sugar, or are you sweet enough?” he asks, wearing a softer version of that panty-dropper smile from last night. He smells clean, minty and masculine, after a quick whore’s bath in the other bathroom.

“Just one,” you say, resting your hip against the kitchen island while you watch him fix up your coffee. “You’re smooth, huh?”

“You tell me.” He slides the mug across to you before blowing on his coffee, taking a still-too-hot sip that he tries and fails to cover. For a moment, you think he might be doing a bit, alas he is simply endearingly clumsy.

You feel bad laughing, but Eddie only pouts a little bit before grinning at you. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head to hide behind his hair.

“Real smooth.”

Exercising patience, you decide to let your coffee cool a little.

“I’ll give you a ride home if you like?” he says, hoping it’s not too forward.

He wants to be more forward, ask for your number and ask you out. He likes how his clothes fit your body, and how you looked blissed-out in his bed. While Eddie’s trying not to come off too strong, you appreciate his sweetness and fight your own internal battle of trying not to fall for your one-night stand.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Eddie. I’m over on Cornwallis, is that out of your way?”

He smiles a little, “I don’t mind a little detour, sweetheart.”

You pointedly blow on your coffee, learning from his mistake, and savour the made-just-right coffee in a Snoopy & Woodstock mug.

Over his shoulder, you spot a photo of a familiar man on the fridge, bookended by two heads of dark curly hair. There’s a handpainted fridge magnet with ‘Fae’ written in childishly charming pink writing, and you feel your cheeks flame.

He watches your face change, looks over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at.

“Ah. That’s my Uncle Wayne, and Fae. My daughter. she’s six.” He unpins the picture and thumbs over it gently before turning it around to you.

You know exactly who they are, but take it anyway.

When you moved your life to Hawkins, Indiana six months ago, you would never have believed that you would make friends with a grandfather in his sixties outside of Curtain Call Dance Studio while you waited for Hazel. Making friends as a single Mom in a new town was not easy, you had little time outside of work and parenting for yourself, let alone socialising (and god forbid, dating). And then you parked next to Wayne one Thursday. He was a little quiet but had warmed up more each week; now he smiled when he saw you, asked how your job at the florists was and how Hazel was doing in school.

Even though they were in different First Grade class groups at Hawkins Elementary, Hazel and Fae had become almost inseparable in their dance classes and on the playground.

You knew Fae’s dad worked late some evenings, so Wayne helped him out. Hazel had told you that she had seen Fae’s dad once when he picked her up early to go to the dentist, and that he had hair just like her friend.

“She looks just like me, it’s crazy - poor kid. I can’t believe she’s six. She’s supposed to be three, max. Y’know what I mean?” He says, showing you more of his proud Dad side before realising that your confusion is not because you’re looking at a picture of two clones. “You okay?”

“You’re Fae’s Dad? Fae Munson?” you ask, watching his shoulders tense a little as he nods. “Eddie. Our kids know each other. I’ve met Wayne.”

He scowls slightly beneath his bangs, confused and a little worried that he hooked up with the mother of one of the kids who was mean to Fae in school, who told the teacher when she was ‘too chatty’ or when she stood up for herself.

The words spill from you untempered, unrestrained to clear it all up. “They’re at dance class together. They’re in the same grade. Hazel and Fae are friends, Eddie…”

He visibly softens, drops his shoulders, and even though he still looks confused he melts even more when an involuntary nervous laugh bubbles from your chest.

“Seriously? No… You’re Hazel’s mom?” His eyes blow wide. “Fuck.”

Eddie puts his head on the counter with a thunk, and you’re left with the photo of three smiling Munsons. Fae has her Dad’s eyes and hair, his impish mischief that had endeared you to the little girl. They really are alike.

“Wayne was right,” he says, muffled beneath his hair before peeking at you, “You are cute.”

It makes you laugh more, though your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun.

“Wayne thinks I’m cute? Huh…”

“No. Nope,” he yelps, head flying up like a wild thing. “Oh my goddd.”

You feel a little spacey as the pieces fall into place. Wayne’s nephew Ed worked at Thatcher Tyre as a mechanic, and Fae had told Hazel her Dad looked like a rockstar. She wasn’t wrong…

“He was totally going to try and set us up or somethin’.”

“He did say I’d finally get to meet you at the Winter Performance…” you say, feeling fizzy-all-over as you come to terms with the shock of it all. “Guess we bet him to it.”

“Told me you were real sweet too.” Eddie smiles, his cheeks are pinker than ever.

Part of your brain berates you for hooking up with a stranger in a small town - a small town where everyone knows everyone else. But when Eddie reaches his hand out across the island and says, “Good to finally meet you, Hazel’s Mom,” with that flirty smile and his whiskey eyes, it melts away and you’re not really that sorry at all.

You take his hand, mug-warmed and adorned with silver rings.

“Nice to meet you at last, Fae’s Dad.”

Neither of you is too embarrassed by the revelation, though you both circle back to how fucking crazy it is at least twice. Even though you still feel gooey-warm under his attention, you don’t want anything to get in the way of your daughter’s friendship, of your new start in Hawkins, and feel selfish for wanting more than the taste you have already had of Eddie Munson. You both know your time together is drawing to an end, the bubble is about to burst, and a little part of you wishes that the illusion of being strangers could have lasted a little longer.

With your coffee consumed and your coats and boots on, Eddie takes your hand and pulls you against his body before you step outside of the door together.

“Hey, gorgeous. One more kiss?” he asks, head tilted to the side.

You don’t need to think about it, and take his stubbled jaw with both hands as he holds your hips. Kissing him makes all the tension roll away once more, and you hope it is enough to help him remember you as more than just some other Mom in the First Grade Parents Group Chat (which you both have muted). You have to savour it, remember his taste and touch.

Eddie is not shy about kissing you, he slides his tongue against yours and moans ever so quietly when you push your chest against his. He is also the one to slow it down, makes it sweet and tender and you would dare say romantic, even with his hands on your ass.

“Can I ask for one more thing?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours.

Right now, you would consider giving him a kidney or a blow job if he asked nicely.

“Mhm,” you whisper, giving nothing away just yet.

“Can I get your number? I wanna take you out properly,” he says, his thumbs play with the belt loop at the back of your jeans. “Like a date.”

Feeling hot all over, you try to play it cool and not nod so eagerly lest you headbutt him and leave him bloody-nosed.

“Yeah. That would be nice, Eddie.”

He watches how your teeth sink into your lip and has to kiss you once more, just because. You take his phone and add your number and name, adding a little sparkle emoji before deleting it. Then you add it again and hand it back before you can change your mind.

“Cool. And, um maybe the girls could have a play date sometime? I was gonna ask for your number anyway, so y’know. Two birds, one stone and all that. Silver linings?” Eddie does a jazz-hand-flourish thing before he shakes his head at himself and tucks his phone away. “I had a good time with you. A great time. And I know what you might be thinking, I don’t want this to get between the girls either. But I’d love to see you again.”

You are even more endeared by these glimpses of how sensible he is as well as his goofy awkwardness beneath the leather jacket and bad boy stare.

He is as gentlemanly as he had been last night, opening doors for you, though he is less handsy in the bright morning light (he does give your knee a squeeze at the stoplight). You feel safe with him as he navigates the frosty roads of Hawkins, talking about music, what concerts you had been to before becoming parents, and where to get the sparkly tutus for the Winter Performance.

All too soon he pulls up outside your house, spotting the red door with the handmade wreath that you had described.

“Next to Henderson’s?” he asks, brow raised.

“Yep. Do you know Claudia, or is this town just too small?”

He laughs, tilts his head against the headrest. “It’s way too small. Her son, Dustin? One of my best friends.”

You tip your head forward, smiling even as your head shakes. “I’ve heard so much about Dustin. We’re having Christmas dinner with them.”

Eddie's dimpled cheeks crease even more. “Damn. Well, I can’t wait to hear why you picked Hawkins of all places to move to. You can tell me on our date.”

Proud of how that flusters you, he presses a kiss to your hand and winks, “I’ll text you later, sweetheart.”

You want to kiss him again, but you manage to restrain yourself, remembering the nosy neighbours on Cornwallis. Instead, you let the flickering fire inside you flirt back, hoping to fluster him too.

You place your hand high on his thigh and squeeze. “You better, Eddie. Drive safe.”

You can feel him checking you out all over again, the weight and warmth of his gaze, as you make your way up the path to your door. Once your key is in the lock, you part ways with a wave and a wink, lingering just a moment more to watch his car peel away from the curb.

Left with a fluttering feeling in your tummy and warm cheeks that ache from smiling, you take a moment for yourself in your hallway.

It is time to go back to being Hazel’s mom. You can’t wait to hear about her sleepover with Ms. Claudia and the cats, bask in her brilliance and take every hug and smooch she will offer you (or let you take for yourself). Inspired by Eddie and Fae’s breakfast date, you think of taking your girl to the diner for dinner later on, maybe watching a Christmas movie before bed.

In the mirror above your sideboard, hanging above the key dish and the thrifted lamp and a photo of you and Hazel in matching sunglasses, you catch sight of your smiling reflection once more, enveloped in a dreamy daze and borrowed hoodie. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and your smile becomes bigger, brighter, brimming with hope.

What did you think? Do we want more of these two? 👀 Thank you so very very much for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are incredibly appreciated and adored!

Whether you're celebrating or not, I am wishing you the cosiest and most wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love and every good thing you deserve ✨

588 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 3 months ago

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Mornings With All Of You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky x Wife/Mom/Pregnant!Reader with kids Becca and James Jr

Summary: Bucky enjoys his morning with his wife and kids.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, nicknames/pet names

A/N: Thank you @buckys-wintersoldier for brainstorming ideas with me🥰🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Mommy said to not wake up daddy.” Yours and Bucky’s 4 year old daughter, Becca says to her 2 year old brother James Jr.

“Dada.” James Jr says, pointing at the closed bedroom door.

Bucky just got home from a two week long mission and you’re letting him sleep in. You told the kids to let their daddy sleep, but they didn’t listen. They just want daddy’s attention and lovings.

Becca is the smart one. She gets that from you. She knows it’s bad to disobey what you tell her and her brother, but she’s a total daddy’s girl. If she wants to see her daddy, she’ll see her daddy.

She walked to the closed bedroom door and stood on her tippy toes to open it. She held onto the wall so she didn’t fall. She opened the door with ease and pushed it open. Becca turned to James Jr and put a finger against her lips, telling him to be quiet as they walked in the bedroom where their daddy is sleeping.

Bucky may have enhanced hearing, but surprisingly he didn’t hear the door open and his kids walk in the room. They somehow to manage to climb up the side of the bed to get on top of it. They crawled to him and snuggled themselves under the blanket and against Bucky’s sides.

They couldn’t hold their giggles in. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open when he heard his kids’ giggles. He looked on both sides of him, seeing them laying next to him.

“Good morning, daddy.” They say at the same time.

“Good morning, munchkins.” Bucky says happily.

Bucky sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.

“Where’s mommy?” He asks.

“Cooking and baking room.” Becca answers.

That’s what she calls the kitchen.

“Mommy make muffins.” Jame Jr tells him.

“What kind?” He asks.

“Chocolate chip blueberry!” Becca answers.

“Ooh, sounds good!” Bucky says.

Bucky got out of bed and carefully picked up his son and daughter in each arm, making them giggle uncontrollably. You put a tray of muffins on the kitchen counter and looked up when you heard the sound of giggles entering the kitchen. You smiled when you seen your husband and kids.

“I told them not to wake you up.” You say, kissing Bucky good morning.

“It’s fine, doll.” Bucky carefully placed them on the floor and they ran to the living room to watch cartoons. “I love it when they wake me up.” He says.

Bucky put his hands on your sides, rubbing them up and down. His hands slowly made their way to your 2 month pregnant belly, caressing it. He looked down at your belly with the look of love and adoration on his face.

“I can’t believe we have third one on the way.” He muses.

“You better believe it cause she’ll be here before we know it.” You mused with him, putting your hands on top of his.

“She?” Bucky playfully raised an eyebrow at you. “I think we’re going to have another boy.” He says.

“You just like to be right, don’t you, Sarge?” You giggled.

“I was right with James Jr.” He says with a proud smile.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband and kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, wanting him to be close to you.

“Do you have to go to the compound today?” You asked.

“Nope.” Bucky answers. “Steve gave me the next couple of days off to spend with you and the kids.” He tells you.

“That’s good, because I missed you.” You put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I think the kids missed you more than me though.” You say.

“Our kids always find a way to out rank us.” He says.

You giggled softly. Bucky kissed your forehead, making you smile. As you two were pulling away from each other, the kids came running in the kitchen.

“Are the muffins done?” Becca asks, looking up at you.

“Yes.” You confirmed with a smile.

The kids cheered happily and excitedly, making you and Bucky smile down at the two little creations you two brought into this world. Bucky got the kids seated at the table in the dining room while you took breakfast in there. During breakfast, the kids told you and Bucky what they want to do today. Bucky listened to everything his son and daughter said with the look of adoration on his face.

After breakfast, you cleaned up while Bucky cleaned the kids up. They’re messy eaters. He got them dressed and then got himself dressed. He walked back in the kitchen at the same time you were finishing up with washing the dishes. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and put his hands on your belly. You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Bucky asks softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“You tell me about a billion times a day.” You say with a smile.

Bucky carefully spun you around so you were facing him. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“Let me tell you a billion times more.” He murmurs softly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck when he kissed you softly and sweetly. You two couldn’t help but smile against each other’s lips.

“Hey!” You and Bucky heard a small high pitched voice, already knowing it’s Becca.

You and Bucky laughed lightly and pulled away to see what she needed.

“That’s how you get cooties!” Becca exclaims.

“Me and daddy can’t get cooties, because we’re married.” You explained to your daughter. “Plus, daddy is a Super Soldier so it won’t affect him at all.” You tell her.

Becca stared at you like you just said the most interesting thing in the world. You walked past her and playfully ruffled her hair and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Becca didn’t miss the way Bucky was looking at you as you were walking away. He had the look of love and adoration on his face. She was curious to know why he was looking at you like that.

“Daddy?” Becca taps on Bucky’s leg to get his attention.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, picking her up and walked to the living room to sit down on the couch.

“Why do you look at mommy like that?” She asks curiously.

“Mommy is my wife and the love of my life. I love her with all of my heart. She makes me so happy.” He explains. “You and your brother make happy and I love you two as well.” He says, kissing her forehead.

“What about the baby in mommy’s belly?” She asks.

“I love the baby in mommy’s belly too. He or she is going to make me happy too.” He says happily.

You walked in the living room with James Jr in your arms and sat down on the couch next to Bucky and Becca.

“Daddy love you!” Becca blurts out.

“Oh, he does, does he?” You say.

“He said you’re his wife.” She says.

“He’s right. I am his wife.” You smile widely. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” You say, kissing Bucky’s cheek.

Becca and James Jr carefully slid off of yours and Bucky’s lap to play with their toys on the floor while cartoons played on the TV. You slid closer to Bucky, snuggling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, gently rubbing your belly with his hand.

“I love mornings with all of you.” Bucky says softly and happily.

“Me too.” You say softly, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

James Jr threw a stuffed animal at you and Bucky when he seen you two kissing.

“Yucky!” James Jr shouts loudly, making you and Bucky laugh.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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unconventional-lawnchair · 14 days ago

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Too Much Like Me

Potter!Reader tells her dad she's been asked on a date.

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

Wc: ~1.7k

CW: Just chaotic fluffy hijinks - a jab about Americans

“Dad.” You trailed James into the kitchen, fighting to keep your voice calm despite the storm brewing ahead.

But James Potter, in all his dramatic glory, had gone entirely deaf. Arms flailing like a prophet warning of doom, he roared, “Family meeting!”

“No! No family meeting!” you yelped, lunging for his arm. You barely stifled a laugh as he flailed harder, like a fish trying to escape the net.

James spun around, courtroom-drama style, and gasped at you with the intensity of someone catching their child red-handed with a cursed artifact. “Fred Weasley? Our Fred Weasley? That Fred Weasley?”

“Yes, that Fred Weasley,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Merlin’s saggy balls, I regret telling you already.”

James slammed his hand on the counter for emphasis, pivoting toward the sitting room like a man possessed. “Lily!” he thundered, shaking the walls. “Lily, get in here! Your daughter’s lost her mind!”

“Dad, for Merlin’s sake!” You tried to grab him again, but James had started pacing now, looking like a wizard unjustly accused of crimes against decorum.

“Not in my house! Not under my roof!” He spun around, hazel eyes bulging with a level of betrayal that deserved an award. “Fred Weasley doesn’t know the meaning of curfew! Or- Merlin help us- a respectable bedtime! Do you think I’m letting that chaos into my family? After all I’ve sacrificed? For you?”

“James,” came Lily’s voice, calm but laced with amusement. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, her lips twitching. “What are you yelling about this time?”

James turned to her, a man on the brink. “Fred Weasley! He asked her out! Our daughter! On a date! Alone! With no chaperone!”

Lily blinked, then turned to you with a grin brighter than a Patronus. “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “He finally asked?”

James froze mid-tirade, pointing an accusatory finger at his wife. “Finally? What do you mean, finally? Have you been... supporting this? Encouraging it?”

Lily shrugged, her grin widening as she pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the kitchen. “He’s a lovely boy, James. Polite, clever, charming. He reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Don’t you dare—” James began, his tone low and dangerous.

“You,” Lily finished brightly, jabbing him in the chest. “Fred’s just like you were. All mischief and charm. No wonder she likes him.”

James gawked at her like she’d suggested selling their house to a pack of trolls. “That’s exactly why she can’t date him! I was Fred Weasley, Lily! Do you know what I would’ve done if someone let me date their daughter?”

“You married her,” Lily said sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, winking at you as it effectively stunned the red mess that was your father.

James froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, completely derailed by Lily’s well-placed jab and affectionate kiss. He finally managed to sputter, “That’s- That’s completely different!”

“How, exactly?” Lily teased, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms again. “Because if I recall correctly, you were a menace, Potter. A charming menace, but a menace nonetheless. Fred’s cut from the same cloth, and you turned out all right.”

James spluttered, gesturing wildly at you. “Because this is my daughter! She’s not supposed to fall for charmers like Fred Weasley! I can’t just let this happen! Where’s the fatherly dignity in that?”

“Oh, James,” Lily sighed, patting his shoulder with exaggerated pity. “I hate to break it to you, but you lost your ‘fatherly dignity’ the day you wore those matching Christmas jumpers with Sirius.”

“That was solidarity!” James barked, his ears reddening as he straightened his posture in a futile attempt at reclaiming authority. “And anyway, this is different. I’m supposed to protect her! Shield her from the heartbreakers and mischief-makers of the world.”

“Fred’s not a heartbreaker, Dad,” you said, exasperated but amused. “He’s actually- dare I say- nice? And maybe even mature? A little bit?”

James looked like he might faint. “Mature?! You’re telling me Fred Weasley- the bloke who turned all the Quidditch goalposts into giant marshmallows- is mature?! What next? He’s taken up knitting?”

“Knitting would be a good look for him,” Lily quipped, clearly enjoying herself. “Very soothing hobby. He could knit you a jumper, James, to match that dignity you’ve misplaced.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the visual, and James threw his hands up, pacing the kitchen again. “I can’t believe this. I’m being outnumbered in my own home.”

“It’s called democracy- like the Americans,” Lily said, smirking as she leaned against the counter. “And right now, you’re the losing party.”

James stopped pacing to glare at her. “Fred acts like a damned American..” He mumbled before he raised his voice. “This is treason. Pure, unadulterated treason.”

“James,” Lily replied patiently, though her lips twitched with amusement. “You’ll survive.”

At that moment, Harry wandered into the kitchen, his face set in curious confusion as he surveyed the scene. He held a plate of leftover treacle tart, chewing leisurely. “What’s with all the shouting, then?” He asked, his tone disinterested but his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

James immediately pounced, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Your sister has decided to go on a date with Fred Weasley, Harry! Fred Weasley! What do you have to say about that?”

Harry blinked at him, clearly trying to piece together the situation. Then his gaze slid to you, and his smirk grew as he swallowed a bite of tart. “Fred, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Nice. Bold choice. Never a dull moment with a Weasley.”

“Bold-? Harry!” James looked genuinely wounded. “This is a betrayal! Your own sister-"

“Is an adult,” Harry interrupted, shrugging. “And you’re acting like she’s run off to marry Voldemort’s ghost.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you muttered under your breath, earning a snort from Harry.

“Not helping, Harry!” James barked, looking thoroughly frazzled now. He pointed at you again. “Fine! Go on your date! But I’m watching him. One toe out of line, and-”

“And what?” you challenged, grinning now as Lily watched on, clearly entertained. “You’ll duel him? Turn him into a marshmallow like his Quidditch goalposts?”

James opened his mouth, floundering for a retort, but Lily stepped in, tugging him gently away from the center of the chaos. “Come on, love,” she cooed soothingly. “Why don’t we sit down, have a cuppa, and let the kids handle their own lives for once?”

James sighed, finally deflating. “Fine,” he grumbled, shooting you one last suspicious look. “But mark my words- an eye for an eye! Harry, date his younger sister!”

Harry froze, the bite of treacle tart halfway to his mouth as the words sunk in. His eyes darted between you, Lily, and James, clearly trying to figure out if this was his moment to fess up or quietly Disapparate.

“What?” James demanded, noticing Harry’s hesitation. “What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you’ve already thought about it!”

Lily covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing immediately, doubling over as the image of James putting two and two together hit you.

“Why are you laughing?” James barked, looking between the two of you like he was missing the punchline to a joke everyone else got. “What’s so funny? Harry, explain yourself!”

Harry, clearly seeing no way out, sighed and placed his plate of treacle tart on the counter. “Dad,” he started, bracing himself, “I’m already dating Ginny.”

James froze. Completely, utterly froze. His jaw hung slack, his hands hovering mid-air like a malfunctioning automaton.

“You’re what?” He whispered, his voice teetering on the edge of shock and betrayal.

You howled with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “Oh, Merlin, this is priceless!” You gasped. “Dad, your face- your face!"

“James, breathe,” Lily advised through her own laughter, leaning against the counter for support. “You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

James finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes narrowing into sharp points of indignation. “Ginny?! Ginny Weasley?! First her with Fred, and now you- how long has this been going on?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to make himself look smaller. “A while.”

“A while?" James repeated, his voice cracking. “Define ‘a while.’ A few days? Weeks?”

Harry hesitated. “Since... fifth year?”

“Fifth year?!" James bellowed, looking like he might explode. “That’s years! Years, Harry! And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

“What was I supposed to say?” Harry shot back, clearly frustrated now. “‘Hey, Dad, by the way, I’m snogging Ron’s little sister’? That would’ve gone over well.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than me finding out like this!” James cried, gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. “My own son! Betraying me! I raised you better than this, Harry!”

Lily wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, James. They’re clearly happy, and Ginny’s a wonderful girl. You love her.”

“That’s not the point, Lily!” James snapped, his hands flying to his hair. “It’s- this is-!Fred! Ginny! My children and their Weasleys! What’s next? Ron’s going to marry into the family, too?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well... technically, Hermione-"

“No! They got her too!?" James cut him off, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t even tell me! I won’t survive it! This is it- this is how I go. Betrayed by my own family and buried in a sea of Weasleys.”

You leaned against the counter, wheezing with laughter. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” James turned to you, his face a picture of righteous indignation. “You don’t understand. I fought a war for this family- for this! And now my legacy is going to be a house full of Weasleys!”

“Sounds cozy,” Lily teased, patting his arm. “You’ll come around, James. You always do.”

James groaned, sinking into a chair as if all the fight had been drained out of him. “Fine,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine. Date your Weasleys. Marry them. Name your kids Fred and Ginny Jr. for all I care.”

You patted his shoulder, grinning. “Love you, Dad.”

He shot you a glare but muttered, “Love you, too. But don’t think for one second I’m not watching Fred like a hawk.”

“And Ginny?” Harry asked, daring to push his luck.

James pointed a warning finger at him. “You, young man, are on thin bloody ice."

Lily hushed James as she patted his back, leading him out of the kitchen. He continued to blabber on, muttering something along the lines of;

“Is this my fault?”

“Merlin, does Molly know?”

“Bloody redheads- OW!”

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ikkyfics · 10 days ago

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Hello author, can i request a part two dor divination? Maybe the vision finally came true and its all just fluffy? Thank youu

Realization

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: “Remember the Divination classes?” James asked suddenly, his voice light, almost as if talking to himself. “Yeah,” you murmured, feeling the memory bring an unexpected warmth to your chest. “She really got that one right.”

Warnings: just fluffy - after Hogwarts(married with children), a very cute little Harry

A/N: hey honey, I hope you like it

Divination - Masterlist

The night in Godric’s Hollow was calm, the silence only broken by the soft crackling of the fireplace and the slow ticking of the clock on the wall. The golden light from the flames cast delicate shadows on the walls and filled the living room with a warm, cozy glow. It was one of those rare and perfect moments where time seemed to slow down, as if the world outside didn’t even exist.

Harry was on the floor, on the plush rug that covered most of the room, surrounded by colorful magical blocks he was trying to stack. He furrowed his brow, his little face serious as his tongue slightly poked out the side of his mouth. The newly built tower collapsed once more, and he let out an annoyed grunt before suddenly getting up.

James was sprawled on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table, watching his son with eyes full of amusement. You were sitting on the floor with Dahlia standing between your hands, propping her tiny arms on yours to keep her balance. She let out squeals of joy every time she managed to take a wobbly step or two before safely falling back onto the rug. Each of her attempts was met with laughter, claps, and kisses on the top of her little head.

“Again, little one, come on,” you encouraged softly, lifting her under her armpits and raising her into the air. Dahlia giggled in her tiny voice, her round cheeks flushed from the effort, her eyes sparkling with pure joy. She looked like a miniature version of you, the features so alike that even James had commented more than once how it threw him off a little.

At that moment, Harry, who was facing away from you, found James’s glasses abandoned on the coffee table. He picked them up carefully, turning them in his little hands as if they were a treasure. Without a second thought, he put them on, the large lenses slipping down his nose.

“Dad!” he called, stumbling over his words as he turned around with a big smile. “Look, now I’m you!”

James’s laughter echoed through the room, that loud and carefree laugh that brightened any place. He threw his head back, his hands covering his face for a moment before he stretched out his arms to Harry.

“Merlin, you look just like me!” James said, his voice full of affection. He scooped his son into his arms, messing up his already wild hair even more. “You just need to try flying on a broomstick and get into trouble, and I’ll have to retire because my legacy will be secured.”

Harry laughed, adjusting the glasses that kept slipping. “I’m going to fly better than you, dad,” he declared with all the confidence in the world, which only made James laugh more.

“Of course you will, Prongslet. That’s the spirit.”

On the other side of the room, you watched the scene with a smile so wide your cheeks ached. Dahlia, now in your lap, stretched her little hands toward her dad and brother, babbling something that sounded like a demand for attention. James looked at her and froze for a second, his smile softening as he watched the little one in your arms.

He stayed silent for too long, his gaze almost absorbed as he studied Dahlia’s face, so identical to his. You noticed the moment and furrowed your brow slightly, your voice soft as you asked,

“What’s wrong? Why the silly look?”

James turned his gaze to you, that silly grin still shining on his lips, and then looked back at his daughter, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of her.

“It’s you,” he murmured, his voice so low that it barely reached your ears. “Smaller, cuter, but… it’s you.”

Your heart warmed, melting like butter under the sun. The look of adoration he gave his daughter was the same he reserved for you, and that always affected you in an inexplicable way.

“Careful, James,” you teased, your voice sweet. “She might end up wanting to fly better than you too.”

James chuckled softly, letting Harry slide off his lap as he stood up and walked over to you. He crouched down beside you, his arms extending around both of you.

For a moment, you stayed like that: Dahlia in your lap, Harry playing again with the blocks, and James too close, his presence as comforting as a warm blanket.

“Remember the Divination classes?” he asked suddenly, his voice light, almost as if talking to himself.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Those classes? James, that was years ago.”

He laughed, resting his head on your shoulder while still looking at their daughter, now yawning and rubbing her eyes. “I know. But… I remember her talking about a boy with glasses. Just like his dad.”

His gaze softened as you also looked at Harry, who was now grumbling softly because another block tower had fallen. A boy with his father’s messy hair and huge glasses. It was truly remarkable.

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling the memory bring an unexpected warmth to your chest. “She really got that one right.”

James turned his face to look at you, his expression so tenderly affectionate that it felt like your heart might leap out of your chest.

“And I also remember saying that I would prefer… a girl,” he continued, his eyes shining softly. “Someone who looked like you.”

The mention caught you off guard, an unexpected wave of emotion rising within you. Your smile was automatic, even though a stubborn tear threatened to fall.

“And here we are,” James murmured, kissing the top of Dahlia’s head as she finally fell asleep in his arms. “Who would’ve thought, huh? It seems like the future really was written. We just took our time seeing it.”

You smiled, one of those smiles that starts slow, spreading across your whole face, as you watched Dahlia’s little closed eyes. His words brought a warm feeling to your chest, mixed with old memories that seemed to come from another life.

“We really did,” you replied, resting your head on James’ shoulder, feeling his familiar warmth. “If it depended on you, we’d have been together since first year.”

James chuckled softly, looking at you with that mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

“I wasn’t wrong, let’s be honest,” he said, with a voice as if declaring a universal truth. “I spent six years trying to prove I was irresistible, but no… you preferred to ignore me. Ignore me, can you believe that?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “I’d call it common sense.”

James put on a mock expression of outrage, placing his free hand on his chest as though he’d been struck with an arrow. “Common sense? And when did you decide to lose that?”

“Sometime around sixth year,” you replied, trying not to laugh. “When you became less… unbearable.”

“Unbearable?” He blinked a few times, indignant. “Come on, love, you make it sound like I was the worst of the Marauders. Everyone knows Sirius was the problem.”

“Oh, of course,” you agreed, the tone ironic but playful. “Because Sirius, who by the way is the godfather who spoils the godson the most, didn’t learn from you how to be impossible.”

James laughed, shaking his head. “Sirius didn’t learn anything from me. He was born that way.”

You laughed louder but quickly put your hand over your mouth when Dahlia stirred in your lap. James looked down at her lovingly and kissed her forehead again, murmuring a “shhh, it’s all right.”

At that moment, Harry appeared in the room, rubbing his eyes with the cuff of his sweater. His hair was even more tousled than usual, and his oversized glasses— which he had taken earlier— were almost falling off his nose.

“Are you talking about Uncle Sirius again?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

James let out a contained laugh and reached out his free arm to pull Harry in. The boy easily settled onto his lap, snuggling between you and James.

“Of course. We always talk about Uncle Sirius, especially when he’s not around to defend himself,” James replied, smiling at Harry. “It’s the price he pays for being the most impossible of uncles.”

Harry chuckled, his eyes almost closing again with sleep. You ran your fingers softly through his hair, feeling how warm and comfortable he was.

“But he brought chocolate yesterday,” Harry mumbled, his voice muffled against James’ chest.

“And ruined your dinner,” you said, rolling your eyes with a light smile. “Not even Remus can control Sirius when he decides to spoil you two.”

James nodded, amused. “That’s because Remus is a saint. I never understood how he puts up with Sirius even now.”

Harry lifted his head again, his little face scrunched up in curiosity. “But Uncle Remus likes Uncle Sirius.”

“He likes him a lot,” James confirmed, kissing Harry’s forehead, enveloping him in a warm embrace with both arms. “Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius were made for each other, just like your mother and I.”

Harry smiled at you, his little eyes almost closing. “So you’re the same?”

You exchanged a quick glance with James, feeling the warmth spread across your face. He gave you a sweet smile, though full of playful provocation.

“Yes, Harry. But don’t forget to tell your mum I’m more charming than Uncle Sirius, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a laugh. “More charming? James, what else do you want him to say? That you’re irresistible?”

James smiled openly, turning his gaze back to you. “I’d love to hear that again.”

Harry let out a little laugh, though he was already almost asleep again. You shook your head, amused, before looking at James more softly.

“All right,” you murmured, surprising him. “You’re irresistible, James Potter.”

James’ eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe it, before breaking into a slow, passionate smile. “Did you hear that, Harry? Irresistible. Next time Uncle Sirius says something, you defend me, okay?”

“Okay, Dad,” Harry whispered, with a sleepy smile before finally closing his eyes.

The silence returned to the room, warmed by the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth and the slow breaths of Harry and Dahlia. You rested your head again on James’ shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent and the peace of the moment.

James, for his part, turned his face softly and placed a lingering kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, almost like a secret.

You furrowed your brow slightly, your heart beating faster. “For what?”

He smiled against your hair, as though savoring the answer. “For everything. For this. For choosing us. For being… you.”

You closed your eyes, squeezing his hand tightly. “I’d choose you a thousand times.”

James smiled, that special sparkle in his eyes.

“I am irresistible, after all,” he whispered, teasing.

You laughed softly to avoid waking the children. “And unbearable,” you added, looking at him fondly.

James pulled you both closer, smiling ear to ear. “I’ll take both. As long as it comes from you.”

And there, in the warmth of the fire and in each other’s arms, you stayed. A perfect picture of everything you’d ever imagined— a life full of love, laughter, and little miracles that even the best of seers couldn’t have predicted.

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nanivinsmoke · 9 months ago

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His. Hers. Ours.

married!Toji x nannyF!Reader

summary : what she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.

warnings and tags: raw sex, nothing but straight fucking! creampie, ass worship, slight cock warning, reader has a big ass, age gap (reader’s in her 20s and toji is in his late 30s), breeding, cheating (married toji), also i gave his wife a name (megumi’s mom), fingering.

“too b-big—g’na cum, toji~” you breathed, earning a smack to your cunt as the older man fucked you, his stroke slow yet deep; making your cunt gush.

“huh? didn’t quite hear that” his words teasing, his teeth nibbling on your ears, sending chills up your spine.

“oh fuck—cumming for you, daddy!” he thrusted inside of you harder, his tip hitting your spot each time, making your eyes roll back—showing off the whites.

“mhm, let it all out. we gotta hurry up too, don’t want wifey to catch us” he grunted, reaching around to clutch on your boob. you held on his forearm, pussy frantically clenching around him as you came.

“did you just get off at the thought of her catching us? hm? want her to see her nanny cumming all over her husbands cock, hm?” the hand that was on your boob, was now around your neck; choking you while you continued to cum.

“fuck, you’re so wet—shit gonna cum~” with a few more sloppy thrusts, he emptied his load inside of you, cunt full of cum—making you shiver from how warm it was inside of you. he pulled himself out of you, with the rest of his seed pooling out—before he got up from the king sized bed to get dressed.

“c’mon, she should be home any minute now.” he spoke, putting his sweatpants on along with his grey t-shirt; tossing you your own clothes. you slowly grabbed your pink shirt, slipping it over your head—trying to reach for your panties, which he happily snatched away. “toji!~”

“these are for me. if you’ll be a good girl, you’ll get them later. now hurry up and get dinner started, I’ll put the sheets in the wash” you wanted to reach for them again, but you knew that would only lead to you being put through the mattress and being caught by mrs. fushiguro. you slipped on your khaki miniskirt, walking towards the kitchen to get started on dinner; trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his cum dripping down the sides of your legs.

you’ve been with the fushiguro’s for a few months now, working as their nanny. even though mrs. fushiguro was currently pregnant with their only child, she still wanted you to be her nanny until the baby gets here.

when you first met toji, he answered the front door shirtless, your eyes were stuck on his abs; mentally counting each of them. he brought you back to reality with a snicker, making you lock eyes with his dark green ones.

“eyes up here sweetheart. what can i do for you?” his voice was deep, causing you to shiver and press your thighs together. you readjusted yourself, gripping your suitcase and your bag that held your laptop and other things.

“im your nanny. mizuki called me and told me i could start today?” you adverted your gaze, trying to stop the thoughts about him that filled your mind. “oh, my wife? yeah she did mention something about that. let me show you where your room is” he reached for your suit case and you immediately cringed, the man was married! and here you were thinking about how you would let him have his way with you.

you vowed from that day on that you would just let him be your boss. well, at least you tried to. toji couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he studied every curve and every inch of your body, loving the way your ass stood out in everything you wore. be it jeans, sweatpants or pajamas, your ass poked through them. he tried so hard to contain himself and remember that he had a pregnant wife, but seeing how full it looked when you bent over; had him cumming in his pants.

your thoughts about him only became stronger, especially at night. panties to the side, while you rubbed your swollen clit—thinking about him teasing your aching hole, lowly moaning his name as you released, and drifting off to sleep afterwards. it was a nightly routine for you and as much as you tried to ignore it you couldn’t. especially today.

mizuki was away at work, while you and toji were at home. toji sat on the couch with a beer in hand, watching television like always. you learned that he was currently unemployed, which meant that he was home with you all the time. you were walking around with a wooden basket, picking up the dirty clothes that were strewn around the house, all thanks to him.

ignoring his presence, you picked up the laundry in the living room, his eyes immediately moving from the t.v and onto you. he watched the way you moved and then he noticed how short your skirt was. it barely covered you, which made your cheeks hang out from under it. he sat up correctly on the couch and rested a hand on his crotch, rubbing himself through it.

you were oblivious to his gaze, forgetting that he was there, until you bent over—giving him a view of your whole ass. he couldn’t contain himself anymore and you had the nerve to have a thong on too?

“y/n. come here” you huffed and let out a hm, turning around only to be left breathless. there was a huge tent in his sweatpants which he was gripping, his face was a little contorted and his eyes were low and lidded. you felt your body get hot and you tried your best to ignore it.

“toji, i-i gotta get started on this laun—“

“come. here.” his voice was low, yet intimidating as he beckoned you with his finger. as much as your heart told you to not go over there, you couldn’t ignore the strong throbbing sensation you felt in between your legs. you dropped the basket in your spot and walked over to him, sitting down on his lap—which made him groan once he felt your warmness.

his hands immediately squeezing your plush backside, “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t— shit—you’re so fucking thick~” he didn’t even bother to finish his sentence, too busy gripping and loving on the fat of your ass. you couldn’t help but to blush. the more he rubbed and smacked, the more aroused you became. and before you knew it, you were grinding your lower half on his hard clothed cock.

“shit. you’re a tease aren’t you~” he chuckled, bucking his hips upwards, making his cock press onto your clit— eliciting a loud mewl from your plump lips. he continued his movements for some time, his pants now coated with your slick, before he stopped and picked you as he stood up from the coach.

reading the expression on your face, he smirked and held onto your waist while walking towards his bedroom, “need some more space, so I could fuck you the way i want to.” and that’s what led to you being filled with a married man’s seed.

———

“dinner was soo good, y/n! any man would be lucky to have you as his wife” mizuki devoured the last bite of her food, washing it down with her iced tea before rubbing her growing baby bump. you smiled and began to pick up the dishes, trying to ignore the guilt that was swarming inside of you.

“thank you and you’re already a good wife, so i know you’re gonna be a great mother” you couldn’t face her, not when you had just sat on her husband’s dick almost 30 minutes ago. mizuki rose from her spot and went around the table to kiss her husband, before going to the connecting kitchen to hug you—making you cringe.

“you coming up?” mizuki turned to ask toji, who sat at the table, sipping on the last of his beer. “yeah, after I get another beer” the raven haired woman nodded and walked down the hall to their shared bedroom and closed the door. silence followed her departure, the only thing being heard in the room was the sound of the sink’s water and the clinking of dishes in the sink as you washed them.

you finished the dishes in a hurry and put them in the dishwasher to dry, drying off your hands before turning to leave. “goodnight!” you didn’t wait for his response, making a beeline to your room and shutting the door behind you. with a sigh, you began peeling your clothes off of your body, cringing when you saw the stains that were up and down your legs; all thanks to his cum.

the shower’s water was scalding when you stepped in, but that’s what you needed. you needed to punish your self, to cleanse yourself free of him. it was wrong on so many levels, yet it felt so right. the way he touched your body and made love to every part of you. the way he knew what peaked your arousal and what made you cum, felt so very right. no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body craved more of him, especially since he was someone else’s.

after your much needed shower, you grabbed your towel and headed back into your room; jumping when you seen toji sitting at the foot of your bed, making your drop it. the cool air made your nipples stand at attention and he took notice to it, licking his lips and beckoning at you with his finger. “toji…we can’t. you’re married,” you bent down, picking up your towel and wrapping it around you.

he said nothing and stared into your eyes. your knees growing weak and your thighs pressed together, you could feel your body getting warmer by the second. this time, he didn’t ask you again, instead you acted on your own and dropped the towel—before sitting your wet body on his lap. “good girl,~” he praised, before latching his to one of your hard nipples, sucking on it and swirling it around his tongue.

moans flew out of your mouth as the overwhelming sensation caused waves of pleasure to erupt inside of you. but, you didn’t want to be teased anymore, you desperately needed him back inside of you. you lifted up slightly and skillfully pulled his throbbing hard cock out of sweatpants, before lowering your slick coated cunt down onto him.

with a pop, he let go of your nipple as the two of you sucked in some air. “so—fucking….tight.” his big hands immediately went to your ass, gripping it when you began to bounce up and down. he filled you up with each bounce, the way he stretched you out had you going crazy. your tits bounced like crazy in front of him and he couldn’t help but to reattach his mount to them again, increasing your pleasure.

“shit, toji! s-sofuckinggood! i love this dick so—much,” you babbled, so drunk off his cock. he removed himself from your swollen buds, smashing his lips on yours—his tongue taking over your own. “you must really want her to catch you fuck her husbsnd, huh?” the feeling of your gummy walls clenching around him, gave him an answer and he lowly chuckled.

he gripped your hips and picked you up, pulling out of you when he flipped you on your knees, making you whine in response before he shoved himself back into you. you buried a scream into the velvet blanket underneath you, eyes rolling back as he pounded your cunt sloppy—your ass clapping against his pelvis with each thrust.

“cum for me. let her hear how much you love her husband’s dick~” he taunted, slapping your ass hard and pushing himself deeper inside of you; his tip kissing your cervix. you gripped your blanket and deepened your arch, feeling yourself coming undone around him. “cumming—cumming for you daddy!”

he was right behind you, his thrusts hard and sloppy when his dick twitched, pumping his load inside of you—filling your tummy. pulling out of you, his cum dripped out and onto the bed, as he pushed his wet cock back into his pants; leaving you fucked out of your mind.

———

you sat dazed at the dinner table, cunt sore and wet, while toji’s thick fingers teased your clit; only to be brought out of it by mizuki. “you okay y/n? i heard a scream too last night.”

you looked up and away, blushing as you recounted what happened last night. “y-yes. i just had a b-bad dream and i couldn’t get any s-s-sleep after that,” you lied, trying to fight the moan that wanted to leave your mouth as toji stuck a finger inside of you.

“aw man, how about you get some rest tonight?don’t worry about your duties today, toji will take care of you. isn’t that right?” toji nodded and smiled, fingers pumping in and out of you.

oh he would be taking more than care of you tonight.

#dad toji #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #married toji #megumi’s mom #nanny reader #dilf toji x y/n #dilf toji x reader #toji x you #reader x toji #toji fushiguro #dilf toji #toji x y/n

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navybrat817 · 18 days ago

Text

(Im)Patiently Waiting

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Bucky is trying to patiently wait for your call.

Word Count: Over 1.4k

Warnings: Fluff, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and already whipped, okay?)

A/N: Continuing with Moving in Slow Motion and Heart and Home, the phone call! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky looked down at the phone in his hand. He was never the kind of guy to constantly check his device, but he hadn’t stopped looking at it since he met you. Hell, he checked it while he was still at the museum, hoping for a text or something so he’d have your number, too. He didn’t think it was possible to become whipped so fast, but life still surprised him.

He sighed when the screen went dark. Why hadn’t you called yet? Maybe he came on too strong? He didn’t think he had. Were you just busy? Probably. You had an adorable daughter who needed you love and attention and-

“Bucky!”

His head snapped up to find Steve, his best friend and second-in-command, staring at him. He didn’t look impressed and pursued his lips more when Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t hear a damn word I said, did you?”

“No,” he replied, not bothering to lie. “Was I supposed to be listening, punk?”

“Yeah, you were, jerk.” Steve ran a hand through his golden hair, plopping down in his chair. “Still hasn’t called yet?”

“Not yet,” he said, setting the phone on the desk in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky sighed again, staring off at the books that lined one of the walls of his office. He didn’t divulge much of his personal life to others. It was safer that way, to both protect himself and the people he cared about. But meeting you and your daughter, he told Steve and their small circle all about it. How Sweet Pea bumped into him and his heart melted. How seeing you set his heart on fire.

They were stunned to say the least and were naturally curious about you since you caught his attention. Each of them offered in some way to do their research on you and make sure there was nothing suspicious or dangerous about you, but he refused. His gut instinct told him all he needed to know.

“You know,” Steve began, pulling his attention back. “We can get you her number if-”

He cut him off with a glare. “I already said no,” he growled, taking a breath. He wasn’t going to snap at his best friend. “I’m doing this the right way.”

Bucky was powerful, extremely powerful, but he wouldn’t use his influence over you. It wouldn’t be right. His hands were dirty as it was, and this could be his chance to have something pure.

With his hands up in surrender, Steve nodded. “Sorry. I just… I haven’t seen you like this before and you haven’t even gone on a date with her yet,” he smiled a little. “She must be something special.”

Bucky smiled a little, too. “She is,” he whispered. Things that didn’t make sense before did after he looked in your eyes.

“Yelena will be the judge of that,” the blonde winked.

“Yelena will take one look at Sweet Pea and declare that she’s her aunt,” Bucky teased, both of them chuckling.

If Bucky’s group taught him anything, it was that blood wasn’t always thicker than water. Friends were the family he got to choose. He would defend and protect them with his life. He imagined you were like that with your daughter, perhaps even more.

Who defended and protected you?

A ring echoed in the office and Bucky stared at the device as it lit up. He held his breath when a phone number popped up with no name. His gaze flickered to Steve as it kept ringing. Was it you?

Steve stared back at him like he had grown two heads. “What the hell are you waiting for? Answer it!”

Clearing his throat, he waved for his friend to go, who did so quickly. If it was you, he didn’t want anyone eavesdropping. If it wasn’t you, he didn’t want any witnesses when his face fell.

Releasing his breath, he finally quietly answered, “This is Bucky.”

“Hi, Bucky,” you spoke on the other end, stating your name as well. He slumped in his chair at the sound of your voice, his heart skipping a beat. It was really you. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at the science museum.”

“Of course, I remember you. You and Sweet Pea.” He couldn’t forget either of you if he tried and he didn’t want to. Did you think of him as much as he thought of you? “How are you two doing? Did she win the contest?”

“We’re doing just fine. She keeps talking about the museum and wants to go back, but no word if she won the contest or not.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it put a smile on his face, too. “How are you?”

“I’m doing just fine,” he replied, getting up and heading to the sofa so he could relax a bit more. He was better than fine since he was talking to you.

“Sorry it took me a bit to call you.”

Should he admit that he kept checking his phone in anticipation? “No, no. You don’t need to apologize,” he said. You didn’t owe him an explanation either. Whether you were busy with Sweet Pea or you didn’t want to call right away, that was your business. “I’m just glad you called.”

“I am, too.” There was silence on the other end. “So, I, um…” Your nervous giggle was beautifully endearing. “God, I’m really out of practice with this.”

“Practice with what exactly?” he smiled, laying back and looking at the ceiling. He wondered if you were sitting on a sofa, too. Or maybe you were in bed, comfortable, unwinding.

“Talking, I guess. At least with someone outside of work or parenting.” There was that giggle again. He wanted that sound on a loop. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

“Why don’t you start with what you did today?” he suggested.

“That might bore you.”

“I don’t think anything you could say could possibly bore me,” he sincerely said. If you decided to pick up a phone book and read it to him, he’d listen. But he was genuinely interested in your day. The little things would help him get to know you better and build more of that connection, both with who you were as a mother and as a person.

“Okay, but only if you tell me about your day, too,” you said.

“Now my day might bore you,” he chuckled. He wouldn’t start anything with you built on a lie about what he did, but he had to be careful with the truth.

“Mmm. I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a boring kind of guy.”

“Oh, I’m not boring,” he smirked. He would love to show you just how thrilling he could be some time. “But my day might be.”

“Try me,” you smiled.

“Can I ask you something before we talk about our ‘boring’ days?”

“Yeah, anything,” you answered.

Butterflies filled his stomach. Jesus, he was nervous. When was the last time anything made him feel nervous? “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

The pause on your end didn’t soothe his nerves. “A drink?” you repeated, your voice smaller than before. He detected uncertainty, like when he offered you his number.

“Yeah. Coffee at a cafe or wine at a nice restaurant, whatever you want,” he replied, exhaling slowly. He didn’t want to mess up your schedule or over complicate anything for you. “What do you say?”

Bucky stared down the barrel of a gun more than once in his life. He experienced torture. Had come close to death. Waiting for your answer was a different kind of torment. It would either be a killing blow or his saving grace.

“I’d love to get a coffee with you,” you stated, allowing him to properly breathe again. He wanted to pump his fist in the air. “Tomorrow, maybe? Unless that’s too soon. Is it too soon?”

“No, no, that’s great,” he smiled. He couldn’t stop smiling. Even if wasn’t free tomorrow, he’d clear his schedule. “Give me the time and place and I’ll be there.”

“Great.” The uncertainty was long gone. “There’s a cafe not too far from me. I can text you the place and time.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, and he wouldn’t be late. “Now… tell me about your day.”

He was going to soak up every single word until he saw you in the morning.

You called! He's whipped! You have a date! I still need to name this AU. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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dorabellingham · 3 months ago

Text

Little midfielder

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when your baby wants to practice football but your husband is injured.

may contain spelling and translation errors!

Madrid, Spain — July 4, 2024

Benjamin, just two years old, was already obsessed with football. Every time he saw a ball, his eyes lit up and he started running after it, even though he was still learning to shoot.

Today, with the sun illuminating the yard, he held his mini soccer ball with determination, ready to convince his dad to play with him. Jude was sitting on the couch, with his leg stretched out and still in the process of recovering from his last injury, trying to follow the doctor's recommendations. He knew he needed a little more patience, but when Benji came running with the ball, his curls bouncing and an irresistible smile on his face, he felt his heart melt.

—Daddy, play, daddy!

Benji asked, holding the ball in both of his little hands and swinging it in front of his father. Jude looked at his son and, for a second, hesitated. He knew he wasn't ready to return to intense physical activities yet, but it was just a game with his son, right? Nothing else. A smile formed on his face, and he sighed.

—Okay, Ben, let's go. But slowly, huh?

The boy, excited, started jumping, while the man slowly got up. You, who was nearby, gave a warning look.

—Jude... you know the doctor hasn't released it yet, right?

—I know, I know. —He replied, taking the ball from your son's hands and lightly throwing it to the little one. —But it's just a light game, nothing more.

Benji, of course, was over the moon. He chased the ball with all the energy a two-year-old could have, his quick, clumsy steps around the yard were adorable to watch. Jude, even though he was trying to take it easy, ended up kicking the ball back to him with a little more force than he intended. The little boy stumbled as he tried to catch the ball, but soon got up, laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

—Look at that kick! —He joked, pretending to be the game's narrator. —Bellingham father against Bellingham son... and the father is having trouble moving, but the son comes with everything!

You, watching from afar, shook your head, laughing at the way your husband was turning a little joke into a competition. Your baby, all concentrated, made a clumsy kick, and the ball went straight to Jude's feet. He tried to resist the attempt, but the player's instincts took over. He adjusted his foot and gently kicked back. Benjamin ran after the ball, aiming to show his father his skills.

—Look, daddy! I'm just like you!

He spoke with that sweet child's voice, making Bellingham's heart melt even more.

He sent it and bent down a little to be at the baby's height.

—You'll be better than me, little one. But only if mommy doesn't let me play with you too soon!

Benjamin, not understanding the joke, just laughed and continued running. You, on the other hand, crossed your arms and gave Jude a warning look.

—You know you should be resting.

—I know, darling! —He replied, laughing —But how am I going to say no to this little midfielder of ours here?

You sighed, but you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the two of them together.

—Just don't get too excited, okay? And, Benji, without hurting daddy, huh?

Benjamin laughed, not really understanding, and continued chasing the ball. But even with the caution Jude was taking, he began to feel a slight pain in his knee, which made him stop and lean lightly on the garden fence. You noticed it right away and went to him, worried.

—See? I knew this would happen.

—I'm fine, babe!

He replied, still trying to keep the smile, even though he was starting to feel more uncomfortable.

Benji, realizing that the game had stopped, ran to his father and, with those curious eyes, asked:

—Does it hurt, daddy?

Jude revealed and messed up his son's curls identical to his, but without a cut.

—A little, but dad will be fine. You played very well, Little Bellingham.

You, helping Jude to sit on the sofa in the garden, looked at the little one and said:

—Now it's time to give daddy a rest, okay, sweetheart? Let's play something else for now.

Benjamin, despite being sad to stop the game, agreed and ran around the yard with the ball again. Jude watched his son, with a mixture of pride and frustration at not yet being 100% recovered.

—He's going to be an ace, right?

He commented to you, who sat next to him.

—He will! —You replied, smiling. —But only if you stop hurting yourself and teach properly.

Jude chuckled.

—Yeah, I'm trying...I just need a little more time.

As you watched his son play, Jude knew he needed to take the recovery process seriously. He wanted to be able to play with your son, train with him without any limitations, but he also knew that this would only be possible if he was patient now. And as stubborn as he was, the smile on his mini copy's face was the perfect reminder of why it was worth waiting and doing things the right way.

#jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x you #dorabellingham #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #real madrid #jude bellingham x mom!reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagines #jb5 x fem!reader #jb5 x reader #jb5 #football x y/n #football x reader #football fanfic #football

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obsessedwrhys · 8 months ago

Note

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

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