#mom!y/n
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hoe4hotchner · 2 months ago
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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]
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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.
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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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urmum-lovesme · 10 days ago
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Dad!Rafe and baby Cameron's first laugh...
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The big couch in the living room of Tannyhill had become their favourite spot for family time. Their baby girl was stretched out on the soft cushions, kicking her legs happily, her tiny fists waving in the air. Y/n lay on one side of her, propped up on her elbow, her head resting in her hand as she gently wiggled the baby’s foot around in the air playfully, capturing her daughter's attention. Rafe was on the other side, lying on his side with his head resting on his palm, watching his two girls with an easy grin. The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting golden streaks across the room, and the sound of soft baby coos filled the air.
“She’s been kicking like crazy today,” Y/n murmured, her fingers gently brushing over the baby’s tummy. 
“I think she’s practising for her first marathon.”
“What do you mean? She’s gonna be a soccer player like her daddy.”
Rafe chuckled, reaching out to gently poke the baby’s round cheek. Y/n rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her amusement. 
“A soccer player? Have you even played since high school?”
“My girl’s got natural talent.”
Rafe rolled his eyes at Y/n playfully before he shot back confidently. The baby let out a tiny, high-pitched squeal, earning both their attention, “She’s clearly disagreeing with you,” Y/n teased, brushing her fingers over the baby’s hand.
Rafe looked down at his daughter with a mock frown as he spoke out, “Oh, yeah?” 
She stared up at him with wide, curious eyes, her little lips forming a tiny ‘o’ as she took in his every move. “Patience, babe. She’s warming up,” Rafe replied, undeterred. He gently lifted their baby’s shirt to expose her soft, round tummy, he leaned forward and rubbed his nose gently against the baby’s belly and blew a loud raspberry. The sound echoed through the room, and while the baby squirmed in surprise, her face remained stubbornly neutral. Y/n giggled, giving him a playful nudge. 
“Guess she’s not impressed by your moves, Rafe.”
“Oh, come on,” Rafe said, feigning offence as he straightened up. “She was totally holding it in, weren't you babygirl? She’s just making daddy work for it.”
“Let me try,” Y/n said, wiggling her fingers toward the baby’s ribs. She leaned in close, her voice soft and sweet as she cooed, “Are you going to laugh for mommy, huh? Are you? Let me see that smile!” She tickled her side gently, but the baby only blinked up at her, lips forming a tiny pout.
Rafe laughed out, “Tough crowd.”
“I don’t know where she gets it from,” Y/n said sarcastically, pretending to glare at him, though the smile on her lips gave her away.
“Alright, tag team it is” 
Rafe declared, leaning in again. The two of them spent the next few minutes trying every trick they could think of- more raspberries, silly faces, exaggerated voices. Every time they thought they were close, the baby would let out a little squeal or a happy coo but stopped short of a full-on laugh. Finally, Rafe flopped back against the couch with an exaggerated groan. 
“She’s making us look bad, babe. We can’t even get our own kid to laugh.”
“She’s just making sure we’re entertained, that’s all, isn't it sweet girl?” 
Y/n hummed softly, leaning down closer to their daughter, her face just inches from the baby’s. She cooed, pressing a tender kiss to the baby’s soft cheek. The baby blinked up at her, a tiny smile tugging at her lips but still no laugh. Y/n smiled at the little almost-grin and pulled back a bit too quickly, not realising Rafe had leaned forward at the same time. The back of her head bumped directly into his face with a light but sudden thud.
“Ah—!” Rafe grunted, leaning back as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hand. “Babe, what the—?”
“Oh my god!” Y/n whipped around hand coming up to cover her mouth, wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
Rafe waved her off, though his nose scrunched slightly. The baby, who had been watching them intently, suddenly let out the sweetest, tiniest string of giggles. Both of them froze and looked down at her in surprise.
“No way,” Rafe said, his hand dropping from his nose as a grin spread across his face.
“That’s what it takes, seriously?”
Y/n blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as the baby let out another bubbly little laugh. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered, her voice soft with wonder. 
“Her first laugh…”
“And it’s at my expense,” Rafe added, though he didn’t look the least bit annoyed. Instead, he leaned back down, his nose almost brushing the baby’s. 
“You think that’s funny, huh, little lady?”
The baby cooed in response, her tiny laugh bubbling up again, and Y/n joined in, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried to stop her own giggles. He grinned, leaning down to kiss the baby’s forehead. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
The baby cooed in response, letting out another delighted laugh, and Y/n shook her head fondly, a hum passing her lips again. Rafe smirked, pulling Y/n closer with his free arm.
 “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up both of you.”
Y/n rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on their baby. "You know, if her laugh already makes me this happy, we’re in trouble when she starts talking."
Rafe chuckled, his hand lightly brushing Y/n’s arm as he said, "When she calls me ‘dada’ first, I’ll try not to rub it in too much, alright?"
Y/n smirked, tilting her head up at him. “Oh, she’s definitely saying ‘mama’ first. I’ll make sure of it.”
Their daughter’s bubbly giggle filled the room again, almost as if she understood their playful exchange. Rafe’s gaze drifted playfully to the girl next to him as he leaned in towards Y/n, his lips meeting hers in a sweet, lingering kiss. His hand gently cradled her jaw, thumb brushing tenderly across her cheek. When they pulled back, his lips curved into a teasing smirk, his voice dropping to a low murmur, 
“We’ll see about that, mama…”
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They make me want to cry 😭
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msmk11 · 2 months ago
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Darling Boys
James Potter x fem!reader; Harry Potter (son) x reader (mom); James Potter (dad) x Harry Potter (son)
CW: FLUFF; one mention of food
Summary: You’re shocked when your son wants to spend time with you.
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It’s a cold Friday evening and by a rare chance, you have the house entirely to yourself. James is out having drinks with his friends and Harry is over at the Burrow. The silence is a little eerie, but you are also enjoying the peace. You’ve got a glass of wine in hand and a movie on while you’re snuggled up on the couch under the thick wool blanket Molly knitted you for Christmas. You don’t expect either of your boys to be home anytime soon, so you’re surprised when the flames of the fireplace burn green and Harry comes stumbling out. You sit up in your seat, wine sloshing a little in your glass.
“Haz? What’re you doing home so early?”
Your son wipes his feet on the rug- set out for any ash- and shrugs, “felt like calling it an early night.”
Your brows furrow, “hmm, really? Is… everything okay?”
Harry’s eyes widen and he nods, “yeah, Mum, I’m fine, really. Just wanted to be home. Is that okay….?”
You observe your boy’s face for any hint of deception but can’t spot it, “okay, sweetheart. Well you know I’m always glad to have you home.”
He smiles at you and slides his shoes off, leaving them in his already small pile. You don’t think to nag him about it.
His eyes trail to the screen and to you, comfy on the couch, “whatcha doing?”
“Just watching a movie and having some wine. Thinking about ordering a pizza soon. Have you eaten?”
Harry laughs, “I was at the Burrow. Of course I ate. But… can I join you?”
Surprise complicates your features- Harry’s far from a rom-com enthusiast and you were certain he’d gotten too cool to hang out with his old mom. Of course, you don’t say that, happy to take any quality time he gives you.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
You sit up and scooch over on the couch, offering him a place underneath the blanket. He joins you and your heart melts in your chest. You side-eye him one more time and then press play on the movie, a small smile playing across your lips. The two of you watch the movie for a few minutes in silence.
“Mum?”
You look over at Harry, “yes, Haz?”
He fidgets nervously for a second, “uh- can- uhm…” he pauses and sighs before shaking his head, “can I lay with you?”
You think you’re going to die on the spot. Not only does Harry want to spend time with you, he is asking for physical affection, and who are you to deny your baby.
“Sweetheart, yes.”
You hope you play it cool.
You lay back and Harry crawls in between your legs, laying his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and kiss his head gently.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Harry stares up at you with your own eyes, “yes Mum, really. I just… well I just missed you.”
You audibly coo and your son blushes in embarrassment.
“Well, I’m glad to have you here, sweetheart. I love spending time with you.”
He hums and hugs you, “I love you, Mum.”
You run your hands through his hair and his eyes flutter shut. Just like his father.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
The movie plays on, Harry staying cuddled up to you. He watches the movie for a bit, but your fingers running through his hair sends him to sleep quickly.
An hour later, the front door opens and your husband comes in quietly. He pads into the living room, smiling at you as he sees you cuddled up on the couch watching a movie. James moves to kiss you but freezes when he realizes you’re not alone.
You put your finger to your lips to shush him, eyes trailing down to your son fondly.
James’ eyes soften at the sight, “baby… what’s he doing here? I thought he’d be out still.”
“Said he missed me,” you murmur, voice thick with emotion and joy.
James smiles at you, heart melting at the sight of his two most treasured people so happy and together. He kisses your head and then ruffles Harry’s hair gently.
Harry stirs slightly and you wince, fearful that the moment is over.
“Dad?” Harry croaks softly.
“Hey Haz,” James murmurs, love oozing from every word.
Harry sits up and your heart breaks, sad that your quality time with your son is already over.
“Will you join Mum and I?”
Your heart bursts into a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
“Of course. That’s the best question ever.”
You soon find yourselves in a familiar arrangement- one you hadn’t realized would be gone until suddenly your boy had grown up. James sits against the couch and you’re between his legs, laying against his chest. Harry is between your legs, laying curled up against you. It’s just like it was when he was little, and your eyes swell with happy tears.
“I love you both, my darling boys.”
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surielstea · 2 months ago
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A Warriors Heart
Based on a request.
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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?
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | tender | loss of virginity | fingering | praise kink | creampie
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.
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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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eccentricwritingbaby · 2 months ago
Text
baby finn series, welcome home
lando norris x wife!mom!reader
series masterlist
summary - your young family of three has now added another little piece of joy.
masterlist
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-
the hospital lights shone as dim as they could get and cascaded along your tired, slumped body. you stared off towards the hum of monaco, out the window, taking in the peace that has overcome your mind. even though the next few months of juggling a newborn as well as a toddler would be difficult for your young family, the physical struggle was now over for yourself, and you and your husband had welcomed a lovely and healthy baby girl into your growing home. 
calmly coming into the world on a crisp december night, eleanor cisca norris, approached your lives bringing nothing but love and a little extra chaos. but ‘what would the norris family be without a small riot?’ your husband had ironically asked while you were soothing the crying baby for what felt like the hundredth time. having done this once before, your mom skills were at a high, swaddling game down, and breastfeeding locked in. your husband was also in his element, finally having his baby girl. 
you turned your attention away from the window and in the direction of the now two-time father, currently soaking in skin to skin time with his baby, sitting in the quietest corner of the room. she laid her peaceful head on his bare chest, sleeping soundly to the rhythm of his heartbeat. he spoke to her in the calm solace that he only reserved for you or finn, now adding little eleanor, or lola as he has elected to nickname her, to that list. you watch in awe, your heartrate picking up slightly as you feel yourself fall in love all over again with the man before your eyes, watching his gentle mannerisms that you had seen once before with finn in this exact hospital. he catches your eye, sending you a tired smile, and holding lola just a tiny bit tighter, as if once he lets go, she may slip away. 
your eyes are dry as you keep yourself from blinking, scared the moment will end if you do. as if he can read your mind, lando gives you a soft nod, telling you in your own telepathic language of love that, it’s alright, we’re here, get some sleep. 
one thing that he will never communicate without making sure that you hear it is whispered out as you begin to close your eyes, “i love you, y/n,”
“i love you too, lan,” you whisper back, as sleep and exhaustion win their battle against your mind and heart. 
the morning is brighter than normal, your baby girl now a whole day old, you and lando getting back into the swing of a newborn - having been woken up every two hours throughout the night - and yet the excitement stands. today was the day that finn would arrive at the hospital and get to meet his baby sister. 
you held lola in your arms, lando sitting next to you on the bed with one arm wrapped around the both of you. his other hand gently strokes your own arm, holding you close, and attempting to give you all of his appreciation in the world. 
“you did so good, love,” he whispers into your temple before placing a soft kiss there. 
“thank you, baby,” you sigh, exhaustion still hitting you, “when will finn be here?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the lovely lady in your arms.
“my dad said they’ll be here soon,” he whispers, eyes not leaving little lola either, “said finn was bouncin’ off the walls to come see us,” he chuckles.
“i believe that,” you laugh, “the little guy is so excited to meet her,”
as if lola could hear the conversation about her big brother, she begins to squirm in your arms, letting out a melody of baby gurgles as your husband and you swoon. lando begins to coo at the little girl as you turn to admire him instead. fatherhood always looked damn fine on him, and always will. a small knock on the door jolts the two of you out of your newborn babymoon, and instead towards lando’s parents and a sweet little boy wiggling around in his papa’s arms. 
“hi, bubs!” lando excitedly whispers as he removes himself from the bed and heads to his firstborn, taking him from his own father, “daddy missed you baby,” he giggles, kissing all over finn’s face.
“i miss you, daddy!” finn lets out between laughs as his father continues to kiss his entire face. cisca and adam eye the little girl in your arms and both ‘awe’ at the sight. they head over to you, and your eyes are already welling up at your firstborn son. 
“would you like to hold her?” you ask in the direction of the two parents, and adam steps slightly back as his wife nods her head.
“shouldn’t finn hold her first?” she asks tentatively, still reaching her arms out for the baby.
“i would prefer to hold him right now while you soak in some newborn time,” you laugh with the handoff between you two. she sighs at the sight of the small baby in her arms, wrapped in pink with a small bow hat adorning her head. adam wraps an arm around his wife as they smile, before he moves to take his own son in his arms, leading lando to plop finn on the bed and let him crawl towards you. 
“hi baby,” you sniffle as you hold him, emotions at an all time high.
“why you cry, momma?” finn asks loudly, leading your overprotective husband to snap his head towards you.
“i’m just so happy to see you, baby. momma missed you,” you let out a quiet sob along with a chuckle, lando coming over to kiss your forehead. 
“when will your parents be in, y/n?” adam asks you as he pulls you into a gentle hug of his own.
“they’re catching a flight tomorrow, should be at our house when we get back there,” you softly say, rocking finn in your arms as he cuddles into you, “they’re going to stay with us for about a week to help out a bit,”
“that’s good,” cisca sighs, still entranced by the newborn in her arms.
“do ya wanna know her name, mum?” lando quietly whispers, perching himself back on the bed to hold you and finn. she nods softly, carrying herself with such grace as she always does.
“eleanor cisca norris,” you let out as she snaps her head to the both of you. 
“oh my,” she sighs, “you two don’t know what that means to me,”
“you’ve beyond been there for me during this pregnancy and finn’s, it was only right,” you nod. she hands little lola over to adam and pulls you both into a hug as she tears up. 
“thank you, both,” 
“of course, mum,” lando sighs, tears pricking his eyes as well. 
“is it time for the little man to hold his baby sister?” adam asks, holding the baby out to you. you nod gently, rearranging the way finn was sitting on your lap in order for lola to be placed on top of him. cisca quietly records the interaction with her phone as adam sets her onto finn, lando opting to hold her head for him, and you hold onto her body to help.
“woah,” finn lets out as he gets a close look at her.
“what do ya think, bubs?” lando whispers, eyeing the little boy in your lap.
“she’s really small, daddy,” he laughs, letting the whole room let out giggles too.
“she is, buddy, that’s why you need to be gentle with her, okay?” lando teaches his son.
“i will, daddy,”
“i know you will, bubs,”
-
two days later and you have returned home, basking in the extra help of your parents and lando’s, along with the plethora of gift baskets that had been sent over from drivers and teams and friends. 
it was a calm evening, lando bouncing the quiet baby in his arms as your parents had retired to their guest room in order to catch up on jet leg. finn was playing around the living room under your supervision until the knock at your door had you moving. the little lightning bolt of a three year old had gotten there first, jumping up and down near the door - he knew exactly who was behind it.
“i wanna answer! i wanna answer!” he shouted with excited giggles.
you laughed in response while attempting to calm him, “okay, okay, but baby you need to remember baby sister is trying to sleep, alright? so let’s try and quietly welcome our guest,”
“otay, momma,” he lets out in a loud whisper as you giggle again, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let carlos and rebecca in. 
“hola, finn,” carlos laughs as your baby boy pounces on him, “and hello to you too, y/n, you look well,” 
“as good as i can do for still being in a diaper,” you all laugh as rebecca hugs you and you all head to the living room.
“aye, there she is,” carlos sighs at the sight of lando and lola, finn still clutching onto him. 
“finn, baby, get off uncle carlos so he can see your baby sister,” you softly tell the boy, finn immediately climbing down from him and over to rebecca as she scoops him up into her awaiting arms. 
lando exchanges the baby into his friend’s arms, looking on with love and care as he leads you over to the couch and wraps you in his own embrace. carlos and rebecca sitting on the couch across from you both, holding your two most precious gifts, and staring on in awe. lando squeezes you a little tighter, kisses your cheek, and lays your head to rest against him. 
“y’know mate, you look really good as a godfather,” your husband speaks up, causing the couple across from you to snap their heads up. 
“and you look beautiful as a godmother,” you add in rebecca’s direction. 
“what?!” they both respond with tears in their eyes, clearly ecstatic about the news, and obviously the perfect match to be elected. 
-
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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago
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Too Much Like Me
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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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rafedarling · 3 months ago
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drew dealing with rustyns tantrums yk when toddler go through that phase 🥹
love this 👶🏻 love seeing tantrum baby vs drew dad
𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞
request: open
pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader
summary: new year’s eve is a night for celebrations, but for drew and you, it’s also a reminder of how challenging bedtime has become with your three-year-old son, rustyn.
warning(s): english is not my native language. toddler tantrums, perenting struggles, firm discipline (not hard or abusive)
au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy
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(love this gif)
New Year’s Eve always been a fun and filled with laughter, music, and the fairy lights strung around the living room. Rustyn, who had been riding a sugar high from earlier snacks and dancing with his parents, was now sprawled on the rug, building a block tower with Drew.
You glanced at the clock: 8:30 PM. Rustyn’s bedtime. It’s always been Rustyn bedtime since he was 1 and you never had a hard time putting him to bed until now
“Rustyn, baby,” you called gently, leaning forward. “It’s bedtime, sweetie.”
Rustyn didn’t even look up.
Drew tried, his tone still calm but a little firmer.
“Come on, bud. You know what time it is time to go to bed.”
Your son continued stacking blocks as if he hadn’t heard a word.
You sighed, standing and walking over to him.
“Do you want Mama or Dada to put you to bed tonight, honey?”
For a moment, Rustyn paused, considering. Drew added, “Mama’s asking you a question, bud. What’s it gonna be?”
Rustyn finally glanced up and answered with a defiant, “No.”
You glanced at Drew, your face falling slightly. Drew caught your look and immediately stood, scooping Rustyn up from the floor despite his protests.
“That’s not how this works, Rusty. It’s bedtime, no arguments,” Drew said, his voice firm but not unkind.
Rustyn immediately began to whine, squirming in Drew’s arms.
“No! no bedtime!”
Drew carried him to his room as you followed a few steps behind, your stomach already twisting at the familiar wails. The moment Drew closed the door to Rustyn’s room, the real tantrum began.
“No, no, no!” Rustyn screamed, his little fists pounding against Drew’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to sleep! I’m not tired!”
Drew sat down on the edge of Rustyn’s bed, holding him firmly but gently in his lap.
“Rustyn,” he said in a low, steady voice, “stop. I need you to calm down.”
Rustyn wailed louder, his little body trembling with frustration.
“No! wanna play!”
You lingered outside the door, listening as Drew handled the meltdown with his signature combination of patience and authority.
“Rusty,” Drew said again, this time softening his tone, “look at me.”
He gently cupped Rustyn’s face in his hands, guiding his tear-streaked eyes to meet his.
“I know you don’t want this fun night to end. I get it and I don’t want it to end either. But you know the rules. It’s bedtime, and your body needs rest.”
Rustyn sniffled but didn’t respond, still glaring at his dad with watery eyes.
“You’re upset,” Drew continued, “but screaming and hitting isn’t how we solve problems, is it?”
Rustyn shook his head slightly, his resolve beginning to crumble.
“Good,” Drew said, brushing a strand of hair out of Rustyn’s face.
“Now, let’s talk about this. Why don’t you want to go to bed?”
Rustyn hesitated before mumbling, “I want stay with Mama. No alone.”
Drew sighed, his features softening even more.
“You’re not alone, bud. Your room is right next to ours. Mama and I are always close by. But we need time to rest too, so we can keep having fun with you tomorrow.”
Rustyn whimpered, burying his face in Drew’s chest.
“But I’m not sleepy…”
“You’re not sleepy now,” Drew acknowledged, rubbing soothing circles on Rustyn’s back, “but if you stay up, you’ll be so tired tomorrow that you won’t want to play. Is that what you want?”
Rustyn shook his head vigorously.
“Okay, then. How about you lie down, and I’ll stay with you for a few minutes until you feel sleepy. Deal?”
Rustyn considered this before nodding slowly.
Drew glanced at you, standing in the doorway, and motioned for you to join them. You stepped inside, sitting beside Drew on the bed. Rustyn reached for you, and you took his small hand in yours.
“You know,” you said softly, “Mama doesn’t like bedtime fights either. It makes me sad to see you so upset, baby.”
Rustyn’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry, Mama.”
Your heart melted.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Just try to be a good boy for Dada, okay? He’s only trying to help you.”
Rustyn nodded, leaning against Drew as his eyelids began to droop. Drew laid him down gently, pulling the blankets up around him.
“Goodnight, buddy,” Drew said, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s forehead.
“Night night, Dada. Night night, Mama,” Rustyn murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
As the two of you stepped out of the room and closed the door, you let out a deep breath.
“See?” Drew said with a small smile. “Easy.”
You gave him a look.
“Easy? He was screaming like we were torturing him five minutes ago!”
Drew chuckled, pulling you into his arms.
“Okay, maybe not easy. But he’s learning. He just needs consistency. And a little tough love.”
“You’re so good with him,” you admitted, resting your head on his chest. “I don’t know how you stay so calm.”
“It’s because I’ve got you,” Drew said, kissing the top of your head.
“We’re a team, and Rustyn’s lucky to have us.”
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navybrat817 · 4 months ago
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Moving in Slow Motion
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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!
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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…
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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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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 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
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“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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Text
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
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”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.
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vanteguccir · 2 months ago
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Hi! I love your fics and I was wondering if you could maybe do a dad!matt oneshot where they are like at a store and a creep like keeps staring at his daughter and he gets protective?
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── ୨୧ ! BLURB
dad!matt sturniolo x mom!reader x daughter
matt is protective over your daughter when a creep guy keeps staring at her at target
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
The fluorescent lights of Target buzzed faintly as Matt, Y/N, and Stella strolled through the craft supplies aisle. Stella's face was lit with excitement as she combed through the colorful rows of markers, foam boards, and glue sticks.
"Do you think blue or green will look better for the background, mom?" Stella asked, holding up two sheets of poster board for Y/N to examine.
Y/N smiled warmly, tilting her head to consider.
"Green, maybe? It’ll make the other colors pop more. What do you think, Matt?"
Matt was standing a few feet away, scanning a shelf of decorative stickers.
"Green." He called over his shoulder, grabbing a pack of sparkly stars. "But you need these too. Every good mockup has stars."
Stella giggled, shaking her head in her mom's direction.
"Dad, I don’t think stars go with a science project."
"They go with everything. Your uncle says that all the time." Matt said, grinning as he tossed the stickers that Nick - and Stella - loved so much into the cart.
As he turned back to the shelf, something prickled at the back of his neck. The feeling of being watched - one that he had a big knowledge of, working for the internet for around 15 years. A sense of unease settled over him, and he instinctively glanced down the aisle, thinking that it could be just a fan.
But it wasn't.
His stomach tightened. A man stood at the far end, his gaze locked on Stella. The creep wasn’t even pretending to browse, his eyes were fixed in a way that made Matt's protective instincts kick in.
He moved closer to Y/N and Stella, subtly placing himself in front of his daughter. He grabbed a few random items off the shelf to look busy, all the while keeping an eye on the man. But when he glanced back, the guy was still staring.
"Y/N." Matt called quietly, his voice low but steady. He placed a hand on her waist and leaned in. "Take Stella to the next aisle."
Y/N’s brow furrowed, sensing the tension in his voice.
"What’s wrong?" She asked softly, already clutching Stella’s arm protectively, trying to look around but being stopped by Matt shaking his head.
"Just go." Matt said, his jaw tightening. "I’ll be right behind you."
Y/N didn’t argue, she knew that when her husband acted like that, something serious was happening. She nodded, her grip on Stella firm as she gently guided her toward the end of the aisle.
"Come on, sweetheart, let’s check out the paint pens."
"But I already-" Stella began, confused, but Y/N’s reassuring smile quieted her.
Matt watched them leave, his chest tightening with both relief and anger. He turned back toward the man, who was now looking at him with a startled expression, as if realizing he’d been caught. Matt didn’t hesitate. He strode down the aisle, his boots squeaking faintly against the polished floor.
When Matt stopped just a few feet away, his glare was sharp enough to cut steel. His voice was calm, but the fury simmering beneath the surface was very much there.
"Is there a reason you’re staring at my daughter?"
The man blinked, caught off guard by the confrontation.
"What? No, I wasn’t-"
"Don’t even try." Matt interrupted, his tone dropping dangerously low. He took a step closer, his broad shoulders and tall frame imposing. "You’ve been staring at her since we got here, and I don’t appreciate it."
The man stammered, his confidence visibly faltering.
"I-I wasn’t doing anything. Just looking around... For my-"
"Looking around?" Matt echoed, sarcastically glancing at his empty basket, his voice laced with disdain. "Then look somewhere else. She’s thirteen. You understand me? Thirteen, you sick son of a bitch."
The man shifted uncomfortably, muttering something incoherent before backing away. Matt’s gaze didn’t waver, tracking him until he turned and disappeared down another aisle. Only then did Matt let out a slow breath, his hands still clenched into fists.
He returned to find Y/N and Stella by the markers, Stella innocently looking at all her options, but Y/N’s expression tight with concern.
She placed a hand on his biceps as he approached, feeling the tension there.
"Is everything okay?"
Matt nodded, his jaw still set.
"It’s fine now."
Y/N squeezed his covered skin, understanding without needing details. She knew Matt would do anything to protect their family.
"Dad?" Stella piped up, holding out a pack of metallic pens. "Do you think these will match the green poster?"
Matt’s face softened instantly, and he crouched down to her level, brushing a stray strand of brown hair from her face.
"They’ll look perfect, Stell. Just like everything you do."
She beamed, and thankfully, the tension lifted. Y/N reached out, brushing her fingers against Matt’s, intertwining them before caressing his knuckles with her thumb.
As they moved toward the checkout line, Matt kept a watchful eye on the store, his posture still on high alert.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"!
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urmum-lovesme · 28 days ago
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Dad!Rafe coming home to an unexpected visitor...
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Y/n sat on the couch, her baby gently cradled in her arms as she swayed back and forth, humming softly to soothe her. It was the end of a long day, and despite the overwhelming joy of motherhood, she was hoping that Rafe would come back home soon so she could have five minutes of ‘mommy time’. He had to leave today, much to his complaints, to go and check up on the Cameron Development office. She had encouraged him, why wouldn’t she? She knew how hard he had worked to get where he is, but it felt weird being alone with their daughter, the absence of his everyday presence for the past month was going to take a while to adapt to. Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door- a loud, insistent knock that echoed through the house. The voice that followed was unmistakable,
“C’mon, country club I ain’t got all day.”
Y/n’s lips curved into a small smile, recognising the familiar tone of Barry’s voice. She shifted the baby gently in her arms and rose to answer the door. When Y/n had first met Barry, she had been skeptical. After all, the guy was a drug dealer, and she knew well enough that people in that line of work weren’t exactly known for their warm personalities or moral compass. At first, she had kept her distance, unsure of how to navigate the relationship between Rafe's closest friend and herself. But over time, Y/n realised that Barry was a little different from what she had expected. He had never once treated her like an outsider, and while his exterior remained tough, he always showed her respect. Barry wasn’t as bad as people said. 
In fact, they actually got along quite well.
As she opened the door, Barry stood on the other side, leaning casually against the frame. His eyes immediately flicked to the baby in her arms, but his expression remained unreadable.
“Hey Barry,” Y/n greeted, her voice soft and calm, “Rafe’s not back yet.”
Barry blinked, clearly surprised for a moment, then let out a low laugh. “Shi, my bad, princess,” he said, adjusting the weight of the bag he had slung over his shoulder. 
“Wasn’t expectin' a welcome party.”
Y/n chuckled lightly and stepped aside to let him in. “You wanna come in? Rafe’ll be back in a bit- well I think...” Barry hesitated for a brief second, looking past her into the house before nodding. 
“Aight, why not.”
Barry’s heavy footsteps filtered through the halls of Tannyhill, as he plopped himself down onto the couch getting comfortable, bag once slung over his shoulder now shrugged to the floor. Y/n navigated over to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge door, the cool air brushed past her face as her eyes scanned the shelves. She reached for a chilled pitcher of lemonade, balancing it with one hand while adjusting the baby’s position with the other. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, she poured the liquid with practiced ease, the sound of it filling the quiet between Barry’s heavy sighs from the living room.
“Here” 
She said softly, making her way back to him. With the baby still cradled in her arm, she handed him the glass. Barry took it, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the lemonade. 
“No beer?” 
He teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly as she side eyed him, her head tilting just enough to give Barry a look that was equal parts warning and amusement. 
“Don’t push your luck” 
She murmured, her voice light but firm. Barry chuckled, throwing his hands up in mock innocence. 
“Aight, aight, my bad mama” 
He said, leaning back into the couch, the grin still plastered on his face. She rolled her eyes, but a small smile betrayed her as it tugged at her lips. Y/n eased herself onto the large couch, careful not to jostle the baby, who had begun to settle against her chest. Barry glanced over, taking a sip of the lemonade. 
“You make this?” he asked, she gave him a glance, as she nodded, “mhmm.”
“S’good,”
He admitted, leaning forward to set the empty glass on the coffee table. As he looked to her his gaze softened slightly, he glanced at the baby in her arms, though he quickly masked it with his usual neutral expression. 
“Man, Country Club got lucky with you," he muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "ain’t no clue how he did that.”
Y/n chuckled softly, her hand gently patting the baby’s back as her little hand fisted her mother’s top. “He’s lucky, all right,” she agreed, looking down at her little girl, “but I think it’s the other way around most days.”
Barry raised an eyebrow at her, his expression changing a little as he took in the sight of her with the baby, a quiet respect in his eyes that he didn't often show. He cleared his throat, leaning back slightly in his seat as he tried to keep his usual tough-guy persona intact. His voice was quieter than usual, and Y/n caught the subtle shift, the care hidden beneath his typically gruff tone,
“How she doin'? Been a lotta noise in here tonight.” 
“She’s good. Just a little fussy,” Y/n replied, smiling softly at the baby, “She’s usually like this around bedtime, but I also think she just misses her daddy…”
Barry grunted, nodding as he looked down at the baby in her arms again, the similarity between the little girl and Rafe was uncanny. The baby had inherited Rafe's striking blue eyes and even her furrowed brow mirrored Rafe's intense expressions, a trait that often unsettled those around him. It was as if a smaller, innocent version of Rafe was cradled in Y/n's arms. Suddenly, a wave of urgency hit Y/n. She gnawed at her lip as she bounced the baby in her arms slightly before she sat up on the couch moving towards Barry, speaking out,
 “Hey, uh, do you mind holding her for a second? I really need to use the bathroom-”
Barry blinked, eyebrows furrowing in hesitation as she now stood in front of him, still gently rocking the baby in her arms.
“Listen, princess, I ain’t ever held no baby 'fore” 
He said, his voice slightly tight, clearly uncomfortable at the thought. Y/n laughed softly before shaking her head, “It’s just for a minute. I’ll be right back. Please?” She shifted the baby in her arms, her gaze imploring. After a beat, Barry sighed heavily, hand rubbing over his face, though there was no real anger in his tone. 
“Shi, alright, I’ll hold her.”
With some reluctance from him, Y/n carefully passed the baby to Barry, watching closely as he took her into his arms. He held her awkwardly at first, unsure of how to manage such a fragile little thing, but Y/n gave him a reassuring smile before quickly heading toward the bathroom.
As she disappeared into the other room, Barry shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a more natural hold on the baby. His hands moved cautiously, but as he adjusted, the baby made a little noise- a content huff- and he relaxed a little. He glanced down at the little face staring up at him, and for a second, his usual bravado slipped. As he adjusted, the baby let out a soft coo and her tiny hand reached up, instinctively grasping one of his fingers.
Barry froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as the little hand curled around his finger. His face softened, a rare, almost tender expression crossing his features. He gently adjusted his hold, ensuring the baby was comfortable, and for a moment, he just stared at her with something close to awe in his gaze.
“Shi-,” he muttered under his breath. “You kinda cute, huh?”
Rafe walked into the living room, a bag of takeout in his hand, ready to settle in for a quiet evening. But as soon as he stepped through the doorway, he froze, his eyes widening in surprise.
There, on the sofa, sat Barry- his usually hard-edged friend, the man who’d never been the type to do anything too tender or gentle. And yet, there he was, with Rafe’s baby girl cradled in his arms like she was the most precious thing in the world.
Barry was leaning back against the cushions, completely at ease now, the baby cooing softly in his hands. His gaze was softer than Rafe had ever seen, his usually sharp and intimidating presence replaced with a strange calmness as he looked down at the little girl. Rafe’s initial shock quickly faded into a mix of amusement and disbelief. He raised an eyebrow, stepping further into the room with a quiet chuckle. Just as he was about to say something, Y/n appeared at the doorway walking to Rafe, looking over at the scene with a smile that immediately softened her features.
“Aww, Rafe, look at that,” 
She said, her voice full of affection as she watched Barry with their baby. Rafe paused, his eyes flicking from his daughter to Barry, then back again. A grin spread across his face as he wrapped his arm around Y/n’s side. 
“I think we got ourselves a new babysitter,” he teased. Barry’s eyes narrowed, and with his usual bluntness, he shot back, 
“Shut yo bitch ass up”
“Hey! Watch your mouth in front of my daughter”
He said, his tone playful but with an edge of protection. Barry raised an eyebrow, but the tension broke when he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. 
“Yeah, yeah- we best friends now, ain't we cuz?”
He muttered, turning his attention to the baby cradled in his arms. The baby blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes, her tiny mouth opening in a silent "O" before a soft, contented coo bubbled out. Her little fists wiggled, and she kicked her legs faintly, her whole body giving that jerky, uncoordinated movement typical of a baby her age. Barry’s grin widened as he pointed to her. 
“See that?
Rafe shook his head, a faint laugh rising from his chest, “Man, she doesn’t even know who you are yet.”
“Nah, nah-” he replied confidently, leaning back on the couch. “She knows her uncle Barry, don't ya sweetheart.”
The baby let out another soft sound, something between a sigh and a happy gurgle, her tiny face scrunching in what could almost pass as a smile. Y/n laughed softly at the exchange, moving closer to the couch, with Rafe close behind her, his arms around her waist as they two looked down at their daughter. Y/n looked at Barry, her expression warm. 
“You’re good with her, Barry,” she said, a note of gratitude in her voice.
Barry gave a small shrug, his usual tough-guy persona slipping back into place, but there was a subtle softness in his eyes as he looked down at the baby. 
“She’s cool,” he said, his voice gruff but genuine, “ain’t as bad as people think.”
Rafe rested his head against Y/n’s as he watched his friend, amused. He teased, eyeing Barry with a grin. 
“Just don’t get too attached.”
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oneforthemunny · 8 months ago
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november rain |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|
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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. 
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“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. 
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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. 
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“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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luveline · 8 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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xochimillilili · 1 month ago
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Shhh shh be a good boy love. Be a good boy and keep those pretty legs spread for me... that's it, doesn't that feel nice baby? You like dad's fingers stretching open your pretty little cunt? Fuck, you clench around me so nicely when I slap you puppy~ Aaa shh you've got to stay quiet for me honey, can't have someone catching us now can we baby? What would they think seeing such a sweet boy like you getting ruined by their dad while grocery shopping, mmh?
That's my boy~ Such a good boy taking my fingers into his messy cunt... aww don't get whiny now puppy, you'll get my cock in you soon enough. You've made me so proud, and you're being so good for me, of course I'll fuck you until you're dripping and your pretty tummy has a litter of pups in it. Aww you really want it, don't you kiddo?
So proud of you puppy, you take me so well. Keep at it and I might send you back out with a thick plug in you, have you nice and full, stretched out and ready for me later on back home. Bet your mom would love seeing the treat you brought back in you~
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eccentricwritingbaby · 8 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
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“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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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“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. 
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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. 
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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,”
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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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