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please-destroy · 2 days ago

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The 26th of December

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count 4k

You first met at the Shield base. She was ahead of you in the cafeteria line.

Natasha was alone. You’d never seen her before and you guessed she was a new agent. She was slightly jittery. She held herself unnaturally still but her eyes darted around the room. Barely noticeable, but you caught it.

Her red hair was tied back in two perfect braids, her pale face was fresh except for dark shadows under her eyes. You stood next to her in the line, holding a plastic tray and feeling like a school-child all over again.

Natasha held an apple in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Her grip made the plastic crackle.

‘You know, it’s not so bad here.’ You mused aloud after a minute, enjoying the way her head whipped around at the sound of your voice.

Her breath hitched and then she regained herself. You watched her expression move immediately from panic to calm. You took note of the emotional control. Not a typical rookie agent.

‘Maybe for you. They’re training me with Robin Hood.’ She answered after a beat.

‘Oh.’ You pretended to consider. ‘Well then, I guess you’re fucked.’

Her answering laugh rasped through you like an electric current.

You ended up sitting at the same table,whilst you ate. Natasha was a mix of conflicting signals. Her smile was easy but it rarely reflected in her eyes. Her shoulders were loose, but her posture was stiff.

She ate her apple slowly. You tried to make small talk between bites of your own meal. You started to hear the trace of a Russian accent in her short responses.

Natasha was down to the apple core before she told you anything about herself. Even then, it was just fragments. She’d made a deal with Agent Barton, she’d held up her end of the bargain, now she was here.

You didn’t press for more details. You didn’t think you could.

Instead, you pushed your plate to the centre of the table and gestured to the untouched fries.

‘Well.’ You said lightly. ‘Maybe this ridiculous place can be your home.’

Natasha’s lips twisted into something too complicated to be a smile.

‘I don’t think I know what home is.’

You glanced at her hand, sneaking to grab a fry. You grinned.

‘Don’t worry.’ You promised. ‘It’s not that complicated.’

Conversation with Natasha was like trying to fill in a blank sheet of paper. Sometimes, you felt like your threw conversation topics into the air, trying to guess what she wanted to talk about.

It was easy to spend time with her. Despite different routines and training, you made a habit of eating together.

The habit became easy.

Every mealtime, you found yourselves together at the same time and same place.

Through her first months at Shield, you watched Natasha’s demeanour change.

Her smile became easy with others. She didn’t tense up in crowds anymore. When your friends came occasionally to sit at your table, she always seemed to welcome the company. You couldn’t tell for sure if she liked them but she never seemed to hesitate when she found herself in a group.

She definitely preferred socialising with you there. You knew she’d declined a few bigger get-togethers with other agents.

You thought maybe she liked that you’d known her so long. Longer than anyone except Agent Barton.

Her eyes sparkled whenever she started talking about an inside joke between the two of you. If people were around, she’d meet your gaze daring you to share the story behind it.

Your mind still lingered on what she’d said about home, on the first day that you'd met her.

You wondered what she thought about it now.

Every so often, you’d catch the mask slipping. A wince after training, when she sat down at the table. A worried expression that smoothed itself immediately into an easy smile. A momentary stormy look aimed at nothing in particular.

The shadows that lingered under her eyes, darkening and fading with a cyclicality that worried you.

Sometimes, she’d steal a piece of food from your plate and give you a look too fatigued to be playful.

It was after one of those looks that you invited her back to your rooms at the Shield base.

You had to finish some work, you told her, but you’d like the company anyway.

It felt obvious, like a natural next step that should’ve happened months ago.

You couldn’t help lighting up inside when she said yes.

That evening you typed on your laptop from the sofa, enjoying absentmindedly Natasha's exploration of your space. Her casualness was undercut by tiny hesitations.

She wandered in and out your kitchen like she was on a guided tour, you heard muffled noises and knew she was rustling through your rarely used spice rack. She wandered back through to your living room, and you tried not to smile obviously when she touched the edge of your fluffy rug experimentally with her foot. She studied the cushions on your sofa and the house plant by the door. You watched her finger trail down the spines of several books on your bookshelf.

Every time she moved on from something, you waited for her to finally settle. To sit next to you on the sofa, to switch on the TV, or start to talk.

It was when you heard the rubber duck squeak in your bathroom, that you finally understood. Why would she know how to make herself at home?

‘Natasha.’ You called, looking up from your laptop screen. Natasha’s head popped around a doorway.

You smiled automatically and watched her match it with a smile of her own.

‘You know, you can do whatever you want here’ You told her, tone light but still serious. ‘Mi casa es tu casa.’

Natasha rolled her eyes. You knew then that you’d been too forward. You’d acknowledged her discomfort but she hadn’t wanted you to see it in the first place.

You didn’t feel sorry. You meant what you said. You rose from the sofa to make you both some coffee.

You touched her shoulder with absentminded affection as you walked past. Natasha went still at the action. You turned before you entered the kitchen, wanting to double check if the touch was okay.

You watched Natasha smile secretly down at the ground. She lifted her head, feeling your gaze and rolled her eyes again. Her smile only got stronger.

You walked into the kitchen feeling lighter than air. When you returned five minutes later, Natasha was sitting cross legged on your floor.

She gave you a small smirk when you handed her the coffee mug. You sat on the sofa, just to the side of her. You watched silently as she ripped blank pages out of one of your old notebooks. Her fingers worked deftly as she made snowflakes, origami shapes and chains of paper dolls.

You watched her with a mix of awe and something undefinable. You thought about home. How the definition of it was starting to change for you too.

After some time, you couldn’t help but reach over, picking up the red biro pen that was lying on the coffee table. Natasha startled then relaxed readily, when you moved to sit beside her. She watched as you messily coloured in the hair of the nearest paper doll. The bright red was almost obnoxious.

Natasha elbowed you lightly when you scribbled ‘Romanoff’ on the doll’s dress.

When Natasha left, you hung the paper dolls above the TV.

Agent Barton told you about Natasha’s dilemma before she did. You’d never spoken before but when he caught up with you in the hallway, he addressed you by your first name. It took you a moment to realise that he knew exactly who you were. It turned out, Natasha talked a lot about you.

Natasha’s annual vacation time was mandatory and had to be taken, but she hadn’t booked any of it. Clint didn’t need to explain why. You’d known Natasha for nearly six months now and she’d never spoken about anyone except the people she’d met since joining Shield.

Clint lay the problem out matter of factly.

Natasha had nowhere to go and she didn’t seem to want to leave.

It was the easiest solution you’d ever come up with.

You found Natasha in weapons training. She was easy to spot with her usual red braid falling down between her shoulder blades. Her arms were raised as she aimed a gun. Ears covered and focus exact.

She still spotted you almost immediately.

You waved awkwardly as she lowered her gun and removed her ear defenders.

‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

Natasha’s head tilted. At first, you thought she hadn’t understood the question. It took a second, before you realised that she didn’t understand why you were asking. She thought it was obvious that she didn’t have plans.

‘Maybe we could rent a place for the vacation time.’ You suggested. ‘We could go somewhere snowier than here.’

Natasha watched you for a long moment and then you watched her lips life into a small smile.

‘I like snow.’ She said at last.

The next few weeks passed slowly. A new anticipation crept into your life. You rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere for the holidays. In theory, it was the perfect background for an idyllic snowy Christmas. Trees surrounded it on three sides, it was one step away from a true nature retreat.

When you described the vacation home to Natasha. She’d just nodded seriously, like you were giving her a rundown of details for a future mission. You tried not to let her reaction worry you, she was relatively quiet for the rest of the day.

The next day, Natasha joined you for breakfast with obvious intent. Before you'd had time to say hello. Natasha asked you about the clothes and other essentials you were planning to pack. You found yourself head first into a detailed conversation, full of follow up questions about things like the capacity of your car trunk.

It was then, as she nodded seriously to each of your answers, that you realised. Natasha didn't know what to expect.

The realisation made you feel a sudden sense of responsibility and freedom. Natasha had no expectations for what the holiday could be. But she'd still said yes. It was a good feeling to be trusted.

You observed her sitting across the table. Natasha chewed her lower lip as she thought about her next question. Her fork spun thoughtlessly against her plate.

You realised, that everyone in this place knew either Agent Romanoff or the Black Widow.

You were the only one who knew Natasha.

Natasha cleared her throat awkwardly, her voice came out quieter and she leaned forward slightly.

‘Could we?’ She hesitated. ‘Should we bring fairy lights? Would that be festive?’

You’d never smiled harder in your life.

‘Yeah.’ You agreed enthusiastically, reaching over to pause her fork mid-twirl. ‘That would be amazing.’

You’d once sat opposite a blank page but now Natasha was a watercolour.

The vacation time came at last and together you drove away from the Shield base full of anticipation.

Natasha was silent, her focus turned to the world passing outside the car window. You fiddled with the radio and tried not to overthink her quietness.

Just over an hour into your drive, you realised that her eyes were sparkling. Another quick glance over to her and you saw the small smile hidden on her lips.

You let some of your excitement trickle back in. You switched the radio to Christmas music and watched her hand quietly tap against her thigh.

Natasha was your best friend. She was starting to become your family.

You felt your heart squeeze with a new happiness when you heard her deep intake of breath as you drove up to the cabin. The wooden exterior was framed with a thousand golden fairy lights. You’d called the rental agency and asked for a favour. You hadn’t been able to resist.

You watched Natasha’s expression as she stepped out of the car. For the first time, any trace of uncertainty was forgotten. Her wide eyes filled with curiosity and excitement.

Her foot crunched on the frozen ground and her eyes shot to the snow covered forest floor with a muted joy. You laughed and her gaze found you instead. Her red hair was loose and long, she’d combed out her braids during the car ride. It framed her face prettily.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your expression but then she started to smile widely.

You held up a finger in a silent request for her to wait a minute before you hurried to the trunk of your car. You fished in your bag for a few moments and retrieved a pair of festive felt reindeer antlers.

Your face hurt from smiling so hard as you walked back and fixed the pair of antlers onto Natasha’s head. Natasha’s bare fingers reached up and traced the soft material. Her expression was undecided and then it relaxed into another bright smile. For the first time, your heart pounded nervously at her proximity. You’d never seen someone look so beautiful. Natasha moved her head and the bells on the antlers tinkled.

‘Come on.’ You murmured, another persistent smile tugging at your lips. ‘You’ll get cold.’

The next few days were illuminating. It became clear just how embedded Natasha’s lifestyle was, as you watched her invent and stick to a new regimented schedule. There was something fascinating about how naturally she followed a routine, even with no real pressure to keep it.

Early morning runs, chopping wood for the stove, yoga, completing stolen work assignments, reading spy novels, undertaking thorough research into unusual topics.

Your schedule was something different. Unlike Natasha, you reverted immediately to a more relaxed way of life, happily shaking off the Shield agent lifestyle.

You woke later in the day, always after the sun had decidedly risen. You scrounged breakfast from the fridge. You let any passing whim decide your day’s activity. A stroll to find a nearby frozen lake, a sudden urge to make gingerbread.

You realised soon enough that Natasha’s busy schedule was really paper thin. It only took an invitation and she was eager to join yours instead. She told you all about her spy novel when she joined you on your rambling walk to find the frozen lake. She told you about trying to run in the snow outside as she helped with the icing for your gingerbread house.

That was the other thing that you were starting to notice about Natasha. You’d known her for nearly a year now. You knew you liked her company. You could tell she liked yours. You realised that every minute you spent together only made you want a thousand minutes more.

On the third morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee. You opened your eyes readily, you’d been moments from waking up at your usual time anyway. Natasha cleared her throat and you startled before seeing her standing awkwardly in the doorway. She was holding two mugs of coffee, clearly unsure.

You smiled automatically at the sight of her. Natasha’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled too. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and she was wearing green winter pyjamas, straight from a cheesy catalogue.

‘Morning.’ You yawned as you sat up.

‘Morning.’ She echoed, handing you the coffee.

‘You’re the best.’ You mumbled happily, taking a sip.

You felt Natasha hesitate, trying to decide if she should leave. You patted the bedspread beside you. It was an easy invitation. Natasha curled up in the space next to you, hands cupping her mug.

‘I like your pyjamas.’ You said with a smirk.

‘Shut up.’ She said dryly, but you could tell she was pleased.

‘Very festive.’

You drank coffee in silence for a few minutes and then you started to talk.

At first it was light things, another book she’d just read, how cold it was that morning.

Then the conversation shifted. She started to tell you real things.

Pieces of childhood. The way the tree branches bowed over the walls of her childhood home. The deep chill of Russian winters. Her favourite American Christmas movie. Where she’d been when she first saw it.

You thought about all the light talking she’d been doing this vacation as you passed your days together. You wondered if she’d been trying to find the courage for this. With every smile or nod from you, the words kept coming from Natasha. Difficult things. Happy memories that lived with an undercurrent of sadness.

You felt a lump in your throat listening to her, wishing you could explain how much you liked hearing her talk like that. How much you liked her.

It was all special.

That Christmas Eve, you suggested a drive to the nearest town for supplies. Natasha looked confused but she only smiled and agreed. She didn’t mention your full kitchen pantry and stacked fridge, already full to the brim with enough ingredients for a full Christmas dinner.

This time, she didn’t stare out the car window for the journey. Instead, she played with the radio dials until she found a Christmas song to sing along to. Her quiet singing made your chest tight with an overwhelming kind of feeling.

You pulled up outside a second-hand store. Natasha looked even more confused as she read the sign on the store. You dragged her in with you to pick up the order that you’d called ahead to see if they had in stock.

In the car, Natasha held the DVD of her favourite American Christmas movie like it was her first ever present.

You only pulled the car over one other time. The very last Christmas tree left in the parking lot beside the small hardware store was cheap and hard not to take pity on.

Together that afternoon, you adorned the tree with some fairy lights taken from the outside porch and for the rest of the evening, Natasha made paper decorations. You put on an old CD of Christmas music that you'd found, before sitting next to Natasha and starting one of the spy novels that she'd already told you the entire plot of.

As she made the decorations, Natasha began to sing again.

You didn’t swap presents on Christmas Day.

Natasha had asked you about that weeks before and you’d promised her not to worry.

It started like the days before it, Natasha walked into your room with her usual quiet hesitation and two mugs of coffee. She started grinning when she saw you, sitting up and ready with the pair of reindeer antlers already on your head.

She gave you your mug and curled familiarly into the space beside you.

‘What do you want to do today?’ She asked, the question feeling completely natural after the last week.

You turned your head towards her and watched Natasha try not to laugh when your antler’s tinkled.

‘I want to see the best Christmas movie that you’ve ever seen.’

Natasha's eyes closed when she smiled in response. Her head rested gently against your shoulder.

Spending a day with Natasha was the easiest way to spend a day.

It was a good Christmas.

Natasha nudged your door open on the morning of the 26th of December. Your last vacation day. You were already awake; she offered you your coffee before she started to speak. You held your breath in anticipation when she cleared her throat nervously.

‘I wanted to say thank you.’ She said carefully. ‘For letting me come here.’

She stood awkwardly at the foot of your bed. She was still wearing her festive pyjamas and you thought that they might be your favourite thing in the world. Her hair was tied back in its usual long braid. She chewed her lower lip and you watched her eyes try to dart nervously before she focused them on you.

‘Natasha.’ You tried to find the right words, cupping your hot mug. ‘You’re my favourite person in the world. You don't have to say thank you. It wouldn't feel like home without you.’

That was the moment. When the last piece clicked.

You watched Natasha walk slowly around your bed. You watched her place her coffee mug on the nightstand. You felt the bed shift as she crawled into the familiar space beside you.

Her thumb brushed your cheek when she kissed you. Her touch was warm from the coffee mug.

She tasted like home.

Things fell apart slowly and then all at once.

You returned to the real world.

Natasha’s training had been becoming more specialised for a long time. Director Fury’s plans for her became clearer and more intentional. Her time was less her own.

You were careful never to push. Natasha became more distracted, her eyes held their secret exhaustion again.

You cherished her when she was there. The first time an additional training session ran through your usual time for dinner, you didn’t let yourself be upset.

That evening, you heard a knock on your door and knew it was her. Natasha's tired eyes were worried and full of unspoken guilt. You pulled her towards you with a feeling of sudden urgency and happiness that came from the simplicity of seeing her standing there.

You kissed her for a long moment and Natasha met your lips with eager relief. Then, you led her to your sofa, ignoring her protests as you insisted on trying to find enough food in your rarely used kitchen to constitute a meal for her.

She slept in your bed that night, curled familiarly into the space next to you. You listened to her steady breathing and knew that you loved her in a way that wouldn’t change.

Her missions got longer. Natasha was trusted with more. She saved more lives with each mission and you watched her start to forgive herself for the things she could barely say aloud.

You did your best to accept that Natasha might choose a future that didn’t include you so easily. She was exceptional, in her kindness, bravery and skill.

You knew Natasha could feel the impending future too. The busier she became with work, the more effort she made to spend every other moment with you.

You felt like a pocket of steadiness in her world of chaos. You knew it was a privilege.

You can't always hold onto your home.

Natasha was given a long-term undercover mission. When she told you about it, you felt a horrible sinking in your chest. It was a feeling that you’d been anticipating.

You knew what her job meant and you knew her talent at it.

All you could really think about in that moment was that she’d clearly been crying. Her shaky breathing stuttered as she tried to tell you the news.

You wondered if you knew her so well, or if she wasn’t trying to hide at all from you anymore.

You hugged her tightly and tried to absolve her of her guilt.

She was going to miss your next Christmas.

You kissed her forehead and told her that you loved her. Natasha tangled her fingers with your own. She squeezed your hand tight. She kissed the back of your hand softly.

The next day, you walked her to the airstrip. You felt unnaturally still as you tried to stop your chest from heaving with a loss it could already feel.

Before she walked onto the jet, Natasha turned around. Her small, awkward wave echoed your own. You watched her braids hit her back as she turned again and walked onto the aircraft.

Months passed.

You lived a strange empty life.

You didn’t remember the world before Natasha, you still expected to see her at every mealtime.

Christmas day arrived.

You decorated your small plastic tree with the paper dolls that had hung above your TV for nearly two years. You watched a Christmas movie that was someone else's favourite.

On the 26th of December, you got a phone call. It was Clint and it was the middle of the night. You were in your car before he’d finished talking.

Home is the place that you are loved.

You found her about a mile from the Shield base, it was just past midnight.

Natasha was walking along the side of the river with her hood up, bathed in the orange glow of the streetlights.

She noticed you almost immediately. She came to a stop, eyes wary and shoulders braced.

You gave a small, awkward wave and she remembered herself.

She moved toward you, pace quick.

When she reached you, her head pressed desperately against your thick winter jacket.

You kissed the soft fabric of her green hood and held her tight.

The sound of the river and the shaking of her cries.

Home was in the sound of the river and the shaking of her cries.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader

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woso-story · 2 days ago

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Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Reader

The soft glow of Christmas lights danced around your shared Barcelona apartment, casting warm, flickering colors onto the walls. The scent of pine lingered in the air as you delicately placed another ornament on the tree. You stepped back to inspect your work, hands on your hips, tilting your head to decide if the balance of decorations was just right.

“You missed a spot,” Alexia teased, her voice soft but full of mischief. She was perched on the armrest of the couch, her legs swinging lazily as she watched you.

You turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “Where?”

She pointed vaguely to the middle of the tree. You followed her finger but didn’t see what she meant. Before you could say anything, she was at your side, her hands on your waist as she spun you around to face her. She leaned in close, her lips brushing your ear. “I’m just messing with you. It’s perfect.”

“Alexia!” you protested, laughing as she pulled back, a grin spreading across her face.

“I’m just saying, you’re taking this a little too seriously,” she said, reaching out to steal a piece of tinsel and attempting to wrap it around your neck. “Relax a bit, cariño. It’s supposed to be fun.”

You batted her hands away, your laughter spilling into the room. “I would relax if you weren’t distracting me every five seconds.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you work.” But her playful smile didn’t fade as she stepped back and perched on the couch again, this time laying back and dramatically draping an arm over her eyes. “Don’t mind me, the lonely spectator.”

Despite her antics, the tree was eventually finished, and it looked magical. The lights sparkled, the ornaments gleamed, and the star at the top stood proudly in place. You turned to Alexia, expecting another teasing comment, but instead, you found her watching you with a soft, almost reverent look in her eyes.

“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” she said, her smile gentle now. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and you crossed the room to sit beside her. She pulled you into her arms immediately, wrapping a blanket around the both of you as you settled into her side. The music playing softly in the background shifted to a slow, nostalgic carol, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence, watching the lights on the tree.

“This is nice,” Alexia murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed, your voice quiet.

After a while, the conversation turned to Christmas plans. Alexia talked about how much she looked forward to spending time with her family—her mother’s cooking, Alba’s terrible jokes, the chaos of the season. Then, after a brief pause, she asked, “So, are you going home this year?”

You hesitated, the familiar weight settling in your chest. “No.”

Alexia pulled back slightly to look at you, concern flashing across her face. “Why not?”

You sighed, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “It’s just... it’s not really home, you know? My parents never understood this life. Football was always just a hobby to them, something they thought I’d grow out of. They never took it seriously. Every conversation felt like a fight, and Christmas was no different. I just—” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I don’t have the strength for it anymore.”

Alexia’s expression softened, and she cupped your face gently. “Cariño, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it. Besides, I’m used to spending Christmas here. It’s quiet, but it’s fine.”

Her brow furrowed, and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “No,” she said firmly, sitting up straighter. “You’re not spending Christmas alone.”

You blinked at her, surprised by her intensity. “Lex...”

“You’re coming with me. To my family.”

“No, I couldn’t,” you said quickly. “That’s your time with them. I don’t want to intrude.”

She gave you a look—stern but full of affection. “Intrude? Are you serious? You’re part of my life, and they already love you. My mom’s been asking when you’d join us for Christmas for months. Alba will probably steal you away to make TikToks. And me? I want you there.”

Her words tugged at your heart, but you still hesitated. “I don’t even know your whole family. What if it’s awkward?”

“It won’t be,” she insisted. “I promise. My mom will have you cooking with her in no time, and Alba will make sure you don’t have a moment to feel out of place. Trust me, it’ll be perfect.”

Over the next few days, Alexia’s persistence didn’t let up. She brought it up at every opportunity, and her mother even called you directly, insisting you to come. “We already have your place at the table planned,” she said warmly. In the end, you couldn’t say no.

---

The drive to her childhood home was filled with Alexia’s excitement. She talked nonstop, sharing memories of past Christmases, her eyes lighting up as she recounted Alba’s antics and her mother’s traditions. By the time you arrived, you felt like you’d already been there before.

Her mother greeted you at the door with a tight hug, pulling you inside where the house smelled of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts. Alba appeared moments later, grinning as she teased Alexia about bringing her “better half” home for Christmas.

The house was filled with warmth and laughter. You helped Alexia’s mother in the kitchen, her gentle guidance making you feel at ease. Alba roped you into a game of charades that had everyone in stitches, and Alexia beamed with pride every time she caught your eye.

On Christmas Eve, you sat by the fireplace with Alexia, her arm wrapped around you as the family exchanged stories. You felt something you hadn’t in years—belonging.

That night, as you lay in Alexia’s old bedroom, she turned to you, her eyes soft in the moonlight. “I told you it would be the best Christmas,” she whispered.

And as you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in her warmth, you couldn’t help but agree.

#woso #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #woso community #barca femeni #woso fics #woso x reader

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izvmimi · 2 days ago

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cw: comfort, minimal hurt. implied break/break-up with retained feelings on both sides.

Midoriya is nothing if not persistent, and you have to hand it to him, he knows exactly how to pinpoint the soft center of your very heart.

(Alternatively, perhaps all of it is soft for him, much to your chagrin, but that’s an issue to settle in due time.)

You can see from the inside of your apartment that he is standing at the front door, an overly ornate boxed and ribboned cake in his hands, and notably still clad in his hero suit, rocking back and forth slowly on his heels as he waits for you to open the door. He must have just gotten off patrol, you figure, as it is close to ten p.m. but in just a little over 2 hours, it will be Christmas and he should be at home with family, or perhaps someone that he loves, not here at your doorstep making another desperate bid for attention.

You didn’t expect to see anyone tonight.

Exhausted from your own late shift, you’d immediately changed into pajamas, deciding that tomorrow’s hotpot dinner with Class 1A and a call to your family overseas would be as much Christmas as you would allow yourself to have. Your home is barely decorated, a simple wreath on the outside of your door being the limit of your effort for cheer (although the few scattered gifts in the corner of your living room from friends may add an extra element of festivity despite your best efforts, or lack thereof). By no means are you a Grinch, but Izuku must have the wrong door and wrong set of expectations.

He knocks again and you watch, deciding how believable it would be for you to pretend to go to bed. As you contemplate, you can see him pull out his phone and text, and you aren’t exactly surprised when your phone vibrates a few moments later, but you are surprised by the message.

Merry Christmas! If you don’t open the door, I’ll just leave the cake out for you, but I think it would taste even better if we shared it.

He knows you’re wide awake. You open the door quickly, your cheeks hot with embarrassment, but he’s unsurprised, smiling widely at you.

“Hey.”

His generous smile makes your stomach turn.

“Why are you here, Midoriya?”

His smile doesn’t flicker in the least; rather, it widens.

“I wanted to see you. Can I come in?”

You’ve already let him in naturally, so it’s almost patronizing that he asks. You follow him inside, watching him take his shoes off at the genkan before asking any more questions, and he quickly deposits the cake at the kitchen table, before looking back at you.

Your arms are crossed over your oversized T-shirt, just as wrinkled as the cotton shorts that peek underneath. Izuku considers for a moment that perhaps he is overstepping and frowns.

“Were you going to bed?”

You shake your head no. “You look like you’re coming right off the street, is everything okay?”

Izuku nods. “Perfect. I thought if I got home and changed first I’d be here too late, and I’ve been holding onto this bad boy since the bakery closed at 6pm so I thought my luck was about to run out.”

You glance at the strawberry sponge cake that looks somehow still pristine through the clear packaging and wonder if he just had a really uneventful night or he just took a special amount of attention to making sure nothing came to harm it.

The idea of him holding it close to his chest makes you scrunch your face.

“Christmas Eve is for dates.”

Izuku’s emerald-like eyes are bright and hopeful as he agrees, as if you’re stating the obvious.

“Yeah. I’m thinking I came to the right place.”

Despite yourself, you bite your lower lip, the warmth in your cheeks now spreading to your ears. Unable to look at him any longer, you go to your cupboard and search for forks and plates. He makes his way to the kitchen sink as you fumble around to wash his hands, grabbing a few napkins on his way back to the table.

Izuku thanks you as you slice equal pieces for the two of you then waits, expectantly, until you bring the first bite to your lips before he does so himself. There’s something about the way that he watches your lips move that has you feeling a little too seen, but some of that has always been his natural superpower, quirkless or not.

Observation. Knowing you as if he could sense your soul, and responding accordingly.

“Is it good?” he asks, as you take another eager bite, and you nod.

“Amazing,” you admit, and he beams, smiling from ear to ear. You expect him to give you details of where he got it or how but he chooses to say nothing instead, allowing you space to speak first.

You keep quiet as you eat at first, but find yourself looking at him a little too long, fixating on the way his suit spandex fits a little too snugly at the shoulders these days, and how thick his bicep is for the simple act of lifting a fork to his mouth. You consider for a moment that perhaps you should simply do it for him, but dispel that thought with a bit of shame.

You’re supposed to be playing hard to get, even if the fact of the matter is that you’ve been gotten, long ago perhaps even.

How long will you continue to do this? He’s already told you he’ll do anything he can to win your heart back, even if it’s barely his fault he lost it in the first place.

You cut yourself another slice.

“Izuku, I still need more time,” you finally admit in a small voice. Izuku doesn’t look up from his cake slice, and you can tell this time it’s because he is still somewhat upset by your words, but he hums in assent.

“I understand.”

There’s the smallest waver in his voice that makes your heart wrench, even if it’s just for a moment.

The strawberry slices in every bite sweeten the bitter taste in your mouth regardless, and perhaps the truth is you’ll never truly know how to conceive of his name in your mouth as anything other than the finest sugar.

“Izuku…” you whisper again.

He looks at you directly in the eyes this time, warm and attentive. You’re reminded of the first time he told you he loved you, then the second, then the third, then more.

You set your plate down and come around the table, and as if he knows - he always knows - he pulls back his chair, and you find yourself settling into his lap, your arms around his neck.

Perhaps by time, you meant a matter of seconds.

Your head tilts upwards and your lips meet, and he tastes like Christmas cake and love.

“I need more time,” you repeat again, between kisses. His arms hold you tightly around your waist, and he nods, lids heavy with desire as he waits for you to continue.

“... so can you please stay the night?”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #mimi's notes #daydreams: bnha #mimidoriya

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jburrgf · 1 day ago

Text

About You II — The Love Trope Series

“Do you think I have forgotten about you?”

◦pairing: ¡lsu! joe burrow x ¡ex situashionship! reader

◦summary: second change trope, college relationships, slow burn love, right person wrong time.

◦description: after the dinner at Malone’s, your best friend and you go to the biggest party of the year, and there, you find out why you can’t forget Joe — at all.

◦playlist: About You - The 1975, Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Golding, Like Real People Do - Hoozier, I Bet You Think About Me - Taylor Swift, Called You Again - Lizzy McAlpine, Tolerate It, ImGonnaGetYouBack, Clean - Taylor Swift

PART TWO: FRIENDS

Joe and I didn’t happen overnight.

It was a slow burn, full of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and an undeniable pull neither of us could explain. He was juggling the pressures of being a star quarterback with the weight of expectations I couldn’t fully understand, and I was caught between wanting to be a part of his world and keeping my own identity intact.

We weren’t perfect. We fought. We drifted. We came back together, only to drift apart again. And then, just before graduation, Joe started pulling away for good.

I didn’t chase him.

And that was the end of it.

Or so I thought.

The faint hum of music and muffled voices filtered through the walls of our shared dorm as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the pile of clothes Maddie had dumped on me earlier. A crop top, a leather skirt, and heeled boots that looked like they belonged on a runway rather than at a party in a dingy warehouse.

Maddie was pacing, a hair curler in one hand and a bottle of glittery body spray in the other, a force of nature in her pre-party ritual. She was dressed to perfection already, wearing a sequined halter top and ripped jeans that made her legs look a mile long.

The mirror in Maddie’s dorm room was barely big enough for one person, but tonight, we were making it work. Her makeup brushes, palettes, and lip glosses were spread across the desk like an arsenal, the tiny lamp casting a warm glow on the chaos.

“Y/N, come on,” Maddie groaned, holding up two options—a cropped black sequin top and a deep green halter. “Which one says, ‘I’m here to have fun but also break hearts’?”

I glanced up, her mind still clouded, offering a weak smile. “The green one, I guess.”

Maddie frowned, dropping the tops onto her bed and placing her hands on her hips. “Okay, what’s going on with you? This is the biggest party of the year, and you’re sitting there like we’re about to go to a funeral.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Just tired.”

Truthfully, exhaustion wasn’t the problem. My chest felt heavy in a way I couldn’t explain—like I was carrying the weight of something I didn’t have the courage to admit. Joe. His name felt like a forbidden word, a ghost haunting the edges of my thoughts as Maddie flitted around the room, oblivious.

“Liar,” Maddie shot back, narrowing her eyes as she crossed the room to sit beside Y/N. “You’ve been weird all weekend. Let me guess…” She tilted her head, a knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “This is about him, isn’t it?”

The mention of his name made my stomach flip, but I kept my face carefully neutral. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“Bullshit,” Maddie said, nudging her shoulder. “I know you, Y/N. You’ve been moping around ever since Malone’s friday. Did something happen with Joe that you’re not telling me?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Look, I know he’s... complicated. But tonight isn’t about him. It’s about you having fun. Forget about the past. It’s just one party.”

“Exactly. Just one party,” I said, grabbing the crop top she’d picked for me and holding it up with skepticism. “And I’m not even sure I want to go.”

Maddie marched over, snatched the shirt from my hands, and tossed it on the bed. “Oh, you’re going. Whether I have to drag you kicking and screaming or not.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to enjoy myself, but something in me felt heavy, like an anchor tied around my chest. Maddie didn’t need to know how often my mind drifted to Joe—how his face had been etched into my thoughts since that night at Malone’s, how his stupid note was still folded in my desk drawer.

“Y/N,” Maddie said, her voice softening as she sat beside me. “I know you miss him.”

I blinked, startled. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to,” she said, nudging me with her shoulder. “But trust me, wallowing isn’t going to help. You need to let loose, have a drink, and dance with someone who’s *not* Joe Burrow.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It *is* easy,”

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my jeans. “It’s… nothing happened. It’s just—ugh, I don’t even know, Maddie. I don’t want to talk about him.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, she stood, grabbed Y/N’s hands, and pulled her to her feet. “Okay, fine. No more Joe talk. But I’m not letting you go to this party looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

“You know i’m not thrilled about frat parties.” I said

“This isn’t just any frat party,” Maddie corrected, grabbing a curling iron and plugging it in. “It’s in the Kappa alumni barn. Do you know how hard it is to get invited to this? People are literally selling wristbands for $50 just to get in. We are *elite,* babe.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered under my breath.

”Come on, I’m going to pick out the perfect dress for you.” She threw open her closet, rifling through the racks of clothes like a woman on a mission. “We need something that says ‘I’m hot, but I don’t care if you notice.’”

“I was just going to wear jeans,” I offered weakly.

Maddie spun around, her expression scandalized. “Jeans? To this party? Y/N, we’re not freshmen anymore. This is senior year. Go big or go home.”

Before I could argue, she pulled out a sleek black dress with a subtle shimmer. It was simple, but the cut was flattering, and the fabric looked soft enough to melt into.

“This,” Maddie declared, holding it up like it was the Holy Grail.

I hesitated, glancing at my reflection. “I don’t know...”

“Trust me,” Maddie said, shoving the dress into my hands. “You’ll look amazing.”

With a reluctant sigh, I headed to the bathroom to change. The dress clung to my figure in all the right places, and when I stepped back into the bedroom, Maddie let out a low whistle.

“Y/N! You look... Wow. Just wow. Girl, if Joe doesn’t come crawling back to you after tonight, he’s an idiot.”

I finally turned to face my reflection, and to my surprise, I didn’t hate it. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like maybe I could blend in tonight.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my llips. “It’s not about Joe.”

“Sure, it’s not,” Maddie teased, returning to the mirror to finish her makeup. “Now, sit down. I’m doing your hair and makeup.”

As Maddie curled my hair, the mood in the room shifted slightly. The music softened, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—just us two, laughing and talking about nothing.

“Listen,” Maddie said, her tone gentler now. “I know you’re going through it, but you deserve to have fun tonight. Forget about him, or at least try to. This party is going to be amazing. Everyone’s been talking about it for weeks. The lights, the DJ, the whole vibe—it’s gonna be insane.”

I nodded, her chest tightening. Maddie was right. I needed to let go, even if just for one night. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

Maddie grinned, placing the final curl in my hair and fluffing it out with her fingers. “Now that’s the spirit. Look at us—two bad bitches, ready to take on the world.”

I laughed, feeling a flicker of excitement for the first time that night. Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe I could forget about Joe, even if just for a few hours. Maddie got all the makeup things right in front of us, and started to do my makeup.

Hold still!” Maddie ordered, her hand steady as she worked on my eyeliner.

“I am holding still,” I mumbled, trying not to blink.

“You keep flinching every time I get close. Do you not trust me?” she teased, stepping back to inspect her work. “Did you know they rented an actual DJ for tonight? And there’s going to be this crazy light show. Plus, rumor has it the football team’s throwing in a ton of money for drinks and food. This is basically LSU’s version of Coachella.”

I hummed noncommittally, watching her in the mirror as she worked. Her excitement was contagious, even if I wasn’t quite ready to feel it yet.

“Y/N,” Maddie said after a moment, her tone more serious. “Promise me you’ll try to have fun tonight. For real.”

I met her gaze in the mirror and nodded. “I’ll try.”

She smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now, glitter or no glitter?”

“No glitter,” I said immediately.

Maddie rolled her eyes but relented, finishing my makeup with a swipe of lip gloss.

Maddie, of course, looked flawless in her emerald green romper and heels, her hair styled in loose waves that framed her face. She had a way of commanding attention without even trying, and tonight was no exception.

“You’re stunning,” I said honestly.

“So are you,” she replied, grabbing her phone to snap a picture of us. “Okay, let’s take a pre-party selfie. Smile!”

I forced a grin, but even as the camera clicked, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“You’re thinking too much,” Maddie said, catching my expression.

“I’m not,” I lied.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her purse. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

By the time we were both ready, the campus was already buzzing with energy. The party was being held in an old warehouse on the edge of campus, the kind of space that was only used for events like this—loud, chaotic, and slightly dangerous.

As we stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my skin, and for the first time all day, I felt a flicker of anticipation. Maddie looped her arm through mine, grinning.

“Trust me, Y/N,” she said as we made our way toward the warehouse. “Tonight’s going to be unforgettable.”

The walk to the party was electric. The campus buzzed with excitement, groups of students streaming toward the barn like moths to a flame. Maddie chatted nonstop, filling the silence with stories and jokes that I barely registered.

But as we approached the barn, the music growing louder with each step, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart began to race. Part of me hoped Joe wouldn’t be there.

And another part of me—a part I hated—hoped he would.

I caved, mostly because Maddie was impossible to argue with, and by the time we arrived at the warehouse, I was already questioning my decision. The music was loud, the drinks were cheap, and the place was packed with bodies moving to a beat I couldn’t place.

It was an underground-style party. Everyone was wearing colorful, fluorescent paints, and the music had heavy beats. It was a fraternity party, but it wasn't at a house. Everything took place in a warehouse, surrounded by a parking lot that was already full when we arrived.

“Loosen up,” Maddie said when we got out of her car and were walking through the parking lot, heading to the party entrance. My friend showed something on her phone to someone, and we went in.

She dragged me toward the makeshift bar. “Come on, Y/N, I know why you're like this. But remember, we have to have fun, right?” she said, shaking my shoulders from side to side as electronic music played.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a small smile because the beat of the music was really contagious.

“Alright, but I’m not going to drink much!”

“I love you!” And that was what Maddie said before dragging me to the fraternity's makeshift bar, preparing something for me to drink.

I downed a few shots, one after the other, laughing and speaking loudly as people came over to greet us. I danced to a few songs with Maddie, swaying from side to side.I felt the urge to go to the bathroom, so I asked her to wait for me close to the bar. I started walking, looking for something like a bathroom, being careful not to open doors to already occupied rooms.

I found an empty bathroom at the beginning of one of the hallways. I fixed my makeup, washed my hands, and got ready to leave. I closed the door behind me, starting to walk down the hallway.

When I returned to the party, the music was louder, and people were dancing more. By that time of the night, the bar was even more crowded than usual, signaling that the party had reached its peak.

I tried to. I really did. But I wasn’t a natural at these things, and it wasn’t until I stepped outside onto the quieter patio that I felt like I could breathe again. I walked out of the warehouse, exiting through makeshift tarp doors. Outside, in the back, there was an Olympic-sized pool, illuminated and filled with inflatable balls.

The air outside was cool against my flushed skin, the sounds of the party muffled behind the thick metal doors of the warehouse-turned-dancefloor. I leaned against the railing near the Olympic-sized pool, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself.

The stillness of the pool was a welcome contrast to the pulsing energy inside. Its surface reflected the night sky, fractured by the faint ripples of the water, and for a brief moment, I felt at peace.

“Finally found you!” Maddie shouted from afar, stepping out of the warehouse with a red cup in hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… it just got way too crowded all of a sudden.”

“Yep, it’s about time for us to head out.” She patted my back, as if she knew me well enough to understand exactly how I was feeling.

The bass of the music hit me like a wave as soon as I stepped through the doors, the lights swirling in hypnotic patterns that danced across the crowd. The air was thick with heat and the mingling scents of sweat and cologne, and I almost turned back around.

I tugged at the hem of my dress, suddenly feeling too exposed in the sea of intoxicated strangers. Maddie was nowhere to be seen— I lost her when I got back inside. I should’ve texted her to meet me outside, but I didn't want to ruin her night.

The overhead lights twisted and flickered in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting long shadows that danced across the packed room. People swayed and spun to the beat of a song I didn’t recognize, the energy electric and wild.

And then it happened.

The opening chords of Innerbloom by RÜFÜS DU SOL floated through the speakers, and it was like the entire atmosphere shifted. The crowd slowed, their movements taking on a dreamlike quality as the tempo of the song washed over the room.

That’s when I saw him.

Joe.

He was standing near the edge of the dancefloor, just beyond the reach of the flashing lights. His blond hair caught the faint glow of the strobe, his tall frame relaxed yet commanding as he talked to someone I didn’t recognize. But it wasn’t the way he stood or the casual confidence in his posture that froze me in place. It was his eyes.

Because, as if sensing me, he looked up—and our eyes met.

Everything else faded.

For a second, I thought I was imagining it.

It was instant, like a magnetic pull I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to. The room, the music, the crowd—all of it faded away. All I could focus on was him.

Why does it always feel like this?

The way he looked at me was almost unbearable—like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had dreaded it. His gaze was steady, unflinching, and for a second, I thought he might come toward me.

But he didn’t move. Neither did I.

My breath caught in my throat. We just stared at each other, the space between us suddenly feeling both infinite and too small.

I wanted to run. I wanted to stay.

The flicker of the lights seemed to sync with the thrum of my heartbeat as he started walking toward me. Everything was in slow motion—the sway of his body, the way his hands slid casually into the pockets of his jeans, the way his jaw tightened when our eyes locked again.

The music, the crowd, the swirling lights—it all blurred into the background, like the universe itself had tilted to make room for this one moment.

*If you want me, if you need me... I'm yours.*

The words felt like a taunt, an echo of everything I hadn’t allowed myself to admit.

Joe’s gaze held mine, steady and unyielding, as though he could see every thought racing through my mind. His expression was unreadable—calm, almost curious—but his eyes told a different story. They were searching, pulling me in, and suddenly the space between us felt both infinite and far too small.

I couldn’t move. My feet were rooted to the ground, my pulse hammering in my ears as the world seemed to slow to a crawl.

He took a step forward.

The lights shifted, casting his face in shadow, and for a second, I thought I might faint. My breath hitched, and I gripped the edge of a nearby table to steady myself.

Another step.

The crowd parted like water around him, the sea of bodies moving in rhythm with the music but leaving him untouched. It felt unreal, like a scene from a movie, the kind you tell yourself could never happen in real life.

But it was happening.

And then he was in front of me.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low, almost lost in the swell of the music. But I heard it. God, I felt it.

“Joe.” My voice came out softer than I intended, almost shaky.

Neither of us said anything for a moment. The room seemed to spin around us, the world a blur of light and sound, but we were still. Anchored.

“You came,” he finally said, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“You called.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me in that way he always did, like he could see straight through every wall I’d put up. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Why did he have to be here? Why did he have to look at me like that? Like he was still holding onto something I’d been trying so hard to let go of.

The muffled beat of the music reached me even out here, but it was quieter now, easier to ignore. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the image of Joe—his face, his voice, the way he said my name. It lingered like a ghost, refusing to let me be.

“Neither was I,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

Another beat of silence passed, heavy and charged. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a fraction of a second, and my stomach flipped.

The song swelled, the lyrics a haunting echo in the background: If you want me, if you need me, I’m yours

The silence stretched between us, filled only by the song and the pounding of my heart. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. All I could do was look at him, and all he could do was look at me, like we were the only two people in the room.

Something flickered in his eyes—relief, maybe, or something deeper. He stepped closer, and I felt the warmth of him, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the humid air of the warehouse.

The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken truths laced beneath them. I wanted to ask him why he cared, why he’d left that note, why he was standing here now, looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. But I couldn’t.

The music swelled, the lyrics wrapping around us like a cocoon.

“I’m glad you did.”

The music swelled, the lyrics wrapping around us like a cocoon.

It felt like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for one of us to make the next move.

And then, without thinking, I took a step closer.

“Joe,” I said again, my voice steadier this time.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper now, lost beneath the music but somehow still clear as day.

For a moment, neither of us moved, the world narrowing down to just us.

And then someone bumped into me, breaking the spell. I stumbled, and Joe’s hand shot out, steadying me with an ease that made my stomach flip.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

I nodded, my cheeks flushing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. Not even close. Because standing this close to him, feeling his hand on my arm, hearing the way he said my name—it was all too much.

And yet, I didn’t want it to end.

He held out his hand. “I…”

“I can’t do this, Joe. I have to go,” I said, finally creating some distance between us. I walked out of the warehouse, but I knew he was following me.

“CAN YOU STOP?”

He froze, started, coming to an abrupt halt behind me. Even in the dark, I could tell he was looking at me with shock. I could see the way he looked at me, and it made me feel nauseous. Not because I didn’t like it, but because I missed it. God, I missed it so much.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, and I could feel the honesty in his voice eating away at me.

“You haven’t talked to me in months, and I’m not going to let you do to me what you’ve done before,” I said, stepping further away. “You forgot about me, Joe. Completely. You pushed me away, and now, I don’t want to come back. Just… stay away.”

Maddie came running after Joe soon after. With a confused expression, she purposely bumped into his shoulder as she walked past him toward me.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” my friend said, still shooting side-eyes at Joe, who stood there frozen. “Leave her alone, Joe. She doesn’t need you anymore.”

Maddie grabbed my hand and started walking with me through the parking lot. I got into the passenger seat, still dazed. It had been almost seven months, and that was the first time he had spoken to me.

When I looked in the rearview mirror, he was still standing there, in the middle of the street.

I knew I would see him again. I just didn’t want to believe it.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #bengals #joe burrow angst

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mcytanti · 1 day ago

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manehare analysis i looooove this freakish duo.

on the surface this team seems very sudden and doesn't make sense i mean they were enemies for such a long time, however, i think they make Perfect Sense Actually.

manehare makes sense because both of them gives what the other wants while acknowledging the place they are coming from. they have a distrust now but i think if they play it right they can have something that lasts across seasons.

we got confirmation today manepear really just loves his little chunguses. (his comment about being a mama bear really stands out to me it was awesome). we saw it earlier in the server with zam, then later with wemmbu and bacon. but all 3 of them didnt satisfy mane in the way he wanted. zam was friendly with the brothers but he was for the most part self sufficient, mane let wemmbu into the bandits thinking he would have to be taken care of but it turns out wemmbu was secretly good at pvp and while he lazy could take care if himself in a fight. bacon never wanted to play ball with mane and refused his advances.

however kab is perfeeeect for mane, she needs his help and his protection but she isnt lazy like wemmbu was. she's intelligent, cunning, and willing to learn so he gets all if the ego boosting of taking care of someone who wants his help but none of the annoyance of a resource drainer (sorry wemmbu but its true 😭).

mane is also perfect for kab, he's filling the void clown has left.

since the start of the season kab has wanted a powerful ally who can stand beside her when she wants them to, someone who can guide her, but someone who is also willing to crush her enemies when asked. she thought clown would be that but when given the opportunity he's been lack luster in the role. she then turned to zam as a guide and a teammate, but he didn't want to be her guiding light and thought it was far too sudden to team plus he was unwilling to do her dirty work so kazam fell apart.

mane, however, has a deep blood lust (wanting to death ban all the revived people is the most notable example of this) so he's perfectly fine with carrying out kab's plans as long as it means they agree on killing. he's also willing to train kab without her having to prove herself like she has to with clown (its in my personal opinion kab would have never proven herself to clown. not because she isn't good but because clown simply isnt interested in her development but thats another matter).

in my opinion the 14 killings is actually really good for this team! it means that kab cannot idolize mane the same way she did clown or zam because she knows that no matter what, mane is dangerous, he's able to kill her and is more than willing to kill her. and for mane despite the 14 killings kab still being willing to work with him must give him a crazy amount of validation because it proves that no matter what happened before kab needs him now

i think as long as the focus on their shared goal they can build a real trust with each other. not like a "i trust you not to kill me" trust but a trust the older lifesteal pairs have, that "i know how you think i know you inside and out and no matter what happens we will comeback together" trust.

however they still have all the potential in the world to fall apart in a pretty spectacular way. like if one of them gets too paranoid and betrays the other, or if they're influenced to betray by people outside the dynamic, or maybe kab's planning to betray from the start and we're all fools for thinking manehare could ever work, or simply losing sight of their shared goal and becoming enemies again. all those things could still happen!

no matter what i just love manehare as a duo. they indulge each other's deepest desires but they have so much potential to fuck it all up it a horrible terrible way. its such a careful balance with them im so excited to see where they go from here

#i know they started as allies at the beginning of the call but by the end of stream they were referring to themselves as a team #so im calling them a team #manehare #leooart #analysis

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dooberific · 2 days ago

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Hiiiiiii!! Can I ask for Harumasa x Reader angst? They are lovers and the reader is also Harumasa's colleague. Then the reader got commissioned(?) to fight hollows but she got stuck in that place and (idk if they went to fight hollows alone but for this request, they have like underlings(?) that would go with them for the mission) the people/fighters that the reader went with to the hollows came back heavily injured and Harumasa saw that the reader is not there with them. That is all hehe, it's up to you if you want the reader to be found or if they would be a hollow and Harumasa has to fight them knowing that that is the reader (I'm a sucker for angst)

Take your time doing this request and stay healthy, dear author!

Anon….who hurt you on Christmas? 😭. Hope this is close to what you were envisioning!

❝ 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: hurt no comfort, major character death

summary: it was supposed to be a routine mission, now he’s left to pick up the pieces

wc: 2.3k

There was a ring cut to your size. A thin and silver little band that lacked grandiose ornamentation. Diamonds and frills were never your thing after all, he could still see the little quirk in your lips at the memory of your colleagues rushing in with stones so large you thought them better fit for paperweights than proclamations of their belonging to another under the banner of love and marriage. “Practicality above all else,” you had claimed some months ago, thumbing at the simple band around your index finger. Your late mother’s ring.

He hoped you were the sentimental kind, your voice warbled over the line from the outpost in his ear as he smiled. “I’m just saying to be careful is all.” He asserted, fingers running aimlessly over the silver band resting in his palm. Your initials and his were cut into the inside.

It was supposed to be your day off, the first you had taken in several months, but when H.A.N.D phoned you that they needed your section of the HSO to assemble for a rescue mission after a Defense Force team had vanished inside of Hollow Zero, well….you didn’t get the luxury of saying no, even if you were the Chief.

“When am I not careful? Remember which one of us you’re talking to here, Haru.” You chided, the smile on your face so present he could hear it change the lilt of your voice.

“Right, right, I’m talking to my beautiful, kind, intelligent and all around perfect girlfriend~” Though he hoped that title would be changing very soon, as he held the ring up to the light, the sun filtering through the window of your shared apartment dancing enticingly over its surface.

You giggled in his ear, the sound warming him to the soul. He could practically see the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled in delight. “That’s much better.”

The interference in the background of the call amplified, faint callings of your name cutting through the static. You sounded disappointed. “Sorry Haru, I gotta go.”

“It’s okay baby, duty calls. Just try to be home for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t miss a date night for the world, you better not peek in the closet while I’m gone! I want that dress to be a pleasant surprise later.”

You fell quiet again as you pulled the receiver away from your mouth, yelling a response into the background. “They’re about to have an aneurysm over here,” you huffed.

“I love you, Haru~”

“I love you too, (y/n)~”

That was a little after noon. It was now nearing midnight and the outpost was crawling with H.A.N.D uniforms and HSO stragglers. Countless outpost scientists shouldered through the crowd, chiming off readings and acting as if they just had a some great scientific breakthrough.

But you were still inside of Hollow Zero.

And H.A.N.D was beginning to withdraw.

Even flashing his Section 6 badge failed to get him answers despite his insistence, earning little more than the shake of a head and a “this is above your paygrade, kid.”

They threatened to court martial him if he kept accosting them. But they didn’t have you inside the Hollow like he did. The epitome of his happiness, the one he swore hung the moon and stars, his most constant companion, and the only one he could imagine waking up beside of until the day he expired.

They didn’t have you, but they had the version of you that made their actions palatable. The “good soldier” and “valiant leader”. The slave to a public that didn’t care to know your name even as you shouldered their burdens as ceaselessly as atlas held the heavens. The one who signed up for a death job.

A chorus of shouts erupted, the flash of the medical units blazing to life under the white spotlights.

Survivors.

He shouldered his way through the swell of the crowd with little regard for those he pushed aside. In a perfect world he would break from the crowd and see you standing there, a little worse for wear but alive and smiling like you just cheated the world. You would push past the medic teams as they chased you down to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips as you gloated playfully.

“See? What’d I tell you? Safe and sound.”

But you weren’t there. A cluster of five soldiers stumbled through the outer bounds of the Hollow—no, those weren’t soldiers, they were members of your faction carrying the torn uniforms of Defense Force operatives. They dripped with blood and grime, corruption marring their skin as they limped out, half-dragging others.

“Hey!” He yelled over the roar of the crowd as he grabbed one of them by the shoulder. His name badge shined under the lights. Kimura.

“Where’s your chief?”

The man shoved his hand away, “Get off me man!”

He didn’t know where he got the strength as he grappled with Kimura before taking two fistfuls of his collar. “Where’s your fucking Chief? Where’s (y/n)?!”

Multiple pairs of hands tore at his uniform from behind as they hauled him off, legs kicking as he wrestled against their pull.

“Where is she?”

“She’s stayed behind!”

Kimura’s face was blank, his eyes distant and foggy as he stared at the ground. There were tears streaming down his face as he drew a ragged breath. “I’ve never seen so many ethereals, we were overran so quickly…Chief (l/n) and Deputy Chief Kato created a diversion to draw them away so we could get out.”

Kimura looked up with red rimmed eyes.

“I am so sorry.”

Hollow Zero had mutated. Or that was the story they were telling everyone now. The sensors at the outpost had registered a dramatic spike in etheric energy about 30 minutes after Section 2 had infiltrated, and by the next 20 the bangboo that accompanied you had stumbled out with fried circuits, the carrot it followed now expired as the interior of the hollow rearranged.

It was supposed to be a standard recovery operation. You had done them hundreds of times in the past.

“I’m sorry, Asaba. My hands are tied.” The officer said with a shake of his head. “No one’s allowed in unless they are operating with their faction. You’re the only one from Section 6 here.”

He gripped his bow tighter. “Then I suggest you turn around and pretend you didn’t see me then.”

It felt like an electric current thrummed under his skin as he breached the Hollow. He didn’t bother to call the proxy or wait for the association to form a new carrot. There was no point, even as desperately as he clinged to the idea of you being unharmed, alive, there was still a rotten crawl of doubt in the back of his mind that made the thought of wandering forever as an ethereal within Hollow Zero a more palatable choice than leaving here without you.

He didn’t know how long he had wandered through the hollow, hair matted to his forehead from sweat as he cleared another broken wall, trying to survey as much of the warped landscape as he could. He doubled over, hands braced against his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had overextended himself already, his chest constricted tightly as his breathing became shallow, a sharp ringing in his ears. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on getting his lungs back under control.

In and out.

There was a distant cry that met his ears, strangled and distorted, one that twisted his gut in an iron grip as his head shot up.

You.

He didn’t know what he hoped to find when he fumbled over the rubble in your direction. Finding you was the sole focus of his mind for the past few hours, the rush of adrenaline carrying his mind past rational thought.

You. You. You.

It urged his tired legs forward, kept him standing as he rounded the corner and saw the torn back of your uniform jacket stretched unnaturally over your crumpled form.

Even with your back to him he would have recognized you anywhere, even as your body contorted unnaturally, muscles spasming wildly as a distorted cry pierced the air. Your hands clawed as the ground, ugly black shards piercing your skin from within, nailbeds black and bloody where your fingertips had rubbed raw in the dirt.

He knew better than to approach you, to roll you to your back as your body seized and writhed in his grasp, more warbled cries piercing the air.

Your eyes were glassy and unfocused as his hands cupped your cheeks. Your skin was hot to the touch, corruption running thickly in your veins and curling out of your skin like ugly black horns.

He shushed you gently, cradling your head in his arms as your hands tore at his sides, teeth gnashing wildly as the corruption ate away at your humanity before his very eyes.

“When I turn into an ethereal one day, I want to you promise that you’ll kill me.”

You lifted your head off his chest. “You sure have a strange idea of pillow talk, Haru.”

He snorted, hands tracing down the curve of your spine as you shivered. “Yeah, I know but still…I don’t want to wander in a Hollow forever like some mindless husk. That’s no way to live.”

You bit your cheek, stretching up to peck him on the lips, his hands gently brushing your hair aside as he grinned against your lips.

“Then I trust you to do the same for me.”

He hated himself. He hated that he remembered that conversation you had over a year ago, begging himself to twist the truth, to convince his own mind that you didn’t know the weight of your words. But deep down he knew he couldn’t deny it, deny you, of the peaceful passing he had asked you to offer him.

This shouldn’t be an issue for him to face. It shouldn’t be you in the throes of corruption, screaming and tearing at him like an animal as your senses fled you body.

You were supposed to outlive him. The scales of nature were stacked unmistakably in your favor.

Tears wet your cheeks, but they didn’t belong to you. Hot and salty tears poured down his face as his breath stuttered. Everything about this was wrong, like his worst nightmares spawning into a hellish reality as he begged any god that might exist for an easy way out, begged you for forgiveness, for you to answer him with that same gentle smile that was reserved just for quiet moments with him.

Apologies burned him from the inside out, like venom on his tongue as he peeled your hands off of him and backed away. His hands trembled so violently he could scarcely nock an arrow, his entire body weak. His vision swam, whether it was from the ether corruption that had dinned his hearing or from the tears that didn’t seem to stop he wasn’t sure.

His lip quivered, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you, your form clawing at the earth before pushing shakily onto your knees. You moved more like a marionette than a human, the skin on your neck crumbling under a sheen of black as the core began to manifest.

Mournful cries dripped from your cyanotic lips as a hand extended in his direction. It was a moment of lucidity, fingers flexing against the veins of corruption under your flesh.

“Haru, I’m so s-sorry.”

The arrow whistled sharply as his fingers released the bowstring.

They both sat on the table on your side of the bed, the metal cold and lifeless under his dull gaze.

“Asaba, I know this is hard, but there are people who you can talk to. That can help you.” The voice of Yanagi echoed from the answering machine in the hallway. He let his cellphone die weeks ago.

“We are just worried about you. Please, call me back.”

Your favorite coffee cup still sat beside the pot in the kitchen, the rim stained pink from your favorite lipstick. Your toothbrush still sat in the cup beside his, your shampoo still in the shower. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the bag hanging in the closet, you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise of the dress you bought in excitement at the prospect of going out to dinner after all.

His medicine bottles sat empty in the bathroom trashcan, the contents lost to the sewers of New Eridu by now.

His lungs heaved tiredly, a deep wheeze whistling in the back of his throat. His vision never stopped swimming, even after he carried you out of the Hollow, an arrow embedded between your glossy eyes as your blood stained his clothes.

His thumb pressed the space between your eyebrows, your nose wrinkling, eyes warm as you stared at him from your side of the bed, hair fanned across your cheeks.

“Haru, it’s not good for you to lay around all the time.” You whispered, leaning into his touch as his hand drifted to cup your cheek, thumb teasing your lower lip before you pressed a kiss to the pad.

“Get up, you need to eat.”

He knew it wasn’t real, that you weren’t real, but he smiled like you were anyways. Like your lips were warm as you leaned in and brushed them against his, like there was weight behind the pull of your hands as he rolled out of bed for the first time in days.

There was a ring cut to your size, and for a little while longer he would pretend it was nestled on your finger.

Rey 2024, crossposted to ao3

#asaba harumasa #zenless zone zero #zzz harumasa #harumasa x reader #zzz #zzz x reader #harumasa zzz

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chugging-antiseptic-dye · 2 days ago

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cute(a) 🍵 minghao x reader

✨ word count > 500 words

✨ genre: tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: for @ylangelegy 💕 i told you i would write something for you (threateningly) and while this isn't very long, i couldn't start the new year without giving you back some of the love i received from you. i don't know if it's a coincidence or not but i had darl+ling on loop when writing this 🙈 and I also wanted to write you something about your favourite member (hao) in your favourite format (text smaus). happy holidays ❄️ and as always, there's someone in your corner all the way across the sea 🌊

Tea-lover! Minghao who was so apprehensive when he had to move houses. It always took him a few months to adjust and a couple of years even for the place to feel like a home. He thought this time it would be the same.

Tea-lover! Minghao who didn't expect to smell different blends of tea coming from the next door. Ceremonial grade matcha, different kinds of pu'er, south-asian style of milk tea, masala tea, calming jasmine, and so many more. Sometimes he felt that he was invading his neighbour's privacy. But he couldn't bear to put a stop to this one piece of comfort he has. The only thing that's grounding him.

Tea-lover! Minghao who was both scared and excited to meet you. Would he bump into you at the elevator? Or will it be near your door? Or maybe at the resident community meeting and someone else would introduce the two of you? But how he actually met you was when you knocked on his door with a "Hi, i am your neighbour y/n. It's so nice to meet you! I made some mango float and thought I would share some with you."

Tea-lover! Minghao and you clicked so well together that it was hard for him to believe that he didn't even know you for six months. He confessed to a week into the friendship that he loved the smell of tea from your place. And from then on, the whole apartment complex knew you guys were thick as thieves. From being excited about different blends to visiting each other for little tea sessions. Sometimes, just sometimes, on early mornings when you were in front of him, all serious about Minghao's tea ceremony rituals yet so soft in your pajamas, he would give himself a minute to think about what ifs. He would unfurl that tiny bit of hope in his heart that makes him wish that ten years later this would remain the same but he would have the extra privilege of kissing you, of being with you.

Tea-lover! Minghao who overthinks each time he gives you a gift. Because it has to be tea-themed but it also has to be perfect. Your 1000 watt smile when you love what he gets you keeps him going for days. Minghao finds himself requesting Joshua and Dokyeom's help more and more for cute gift ideas. Maybe one day he could give you the red and white checkered apron and mittens set he bought. They have little teacups with saucers on them which you would adore. The only thing that's holding him back is that it's too domestic to gift a friend.

Tea-lover! Minghao who got overwhelmed when you finally got tired of him not asking you out and just kissed him. When he short-circuited and just stared at you, you held his face and kissed him again. Just to make sure he doesn't second guess anything about where this relationship is headed.

Tea-lover! Minghao whose new hobby is tasting tea by kissing you every time you drink some. When you tease him by asking if he can taste anything, he claims that any kind of tea is sweeter when it has the touch of your lips. And he is not even lying. You made tea and life sweeter by just being here.

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vampireinprada · 3 days ago

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ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS LOVE

soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: none, just a cute fluffy christmas story! it is my first story, so that might be a warning within itself 🙂

wc: 761

merry christmas, if you celebrate! happy holidays !!!

——————————

Rafe has been relentlessly asking you what you want for Christmas since the start of the holiday season, and his questions have only increased as the holiday approaches.

You were curled up on the couch in your shared house, reading a novel in a soft, white sweater, your feet tucked up comfortably beneath you. The warmth from the fireplace permeated the room, adding to the cozy atmosphere you’ve carefully crafted for a quiet reading session.

Just as you turned the page, Rafe leaned over the back of the couch, his face hovering above yours. “Baby, Christmas is almost here. You must know what you want by now,” he whined, his tone playful but persistent.

“I told you, Rafe. I don’t want anything,” you replied casually, lifting the next page of your novel as you prepared to dive back into the story. Rafe let out a soft laugh, and you looked up at him, slightly puzzled, trying to figure out what was so funny. He was still chuckling as he shook his head.

“You not wanting anything is crazy to me,” he teased. “I mean, come on. You can’t expect me to believe that. Miss ‘Rafey, this bag is so pretty. I wan’ it.’ ‘Rafeeeeee, I need these shoes,’” he mocked in an exaggerated manner, grinning at the memory of your past shopping sprees.

As his mocking continued, you finally set your book down, placing it gently on the table in front of you. With a lively sigh, you wrapped your arms around the neck of your beautiful boyfriend, drawing him closer.

“‘Rafeeeee, I like this ring from Tiffany’s. Can I get it? Rafeeeeee,’” he imitated in a high-pitched voice, causing you to remove your hand from his neck and lightly smack his arm. “Alright, I get it, ya know?” you said with a grin, rolling your eyes.

“I know you do, baby,” he said, his voice softening as he pulled you back towards him. Without thinking, he slid his firm hands around your waist, a gesture he’d perfected over time. “But seriously, how can ya tell me ya don’t want anything and expect me to believe it?” Rafe asked, a merry smile tugging at his lips.

You were the next to burst into a fit of laughter, unable to contain yourself at how adorable Rafe was being. His persistance was admirable, and quite amusing, so you decided to play along.

“What? What is it, baby?” he asked, his smile lines deepening as he watched with delight at the childlike beauty of your laughter. His eyes gleamed, clearly enchanted by your joy.

“Well, there is one thing that I want,” you said cheekily, giving him a mischievous look. Rafe’s eyes widened in victory, and he scrambled for his phone, his fingers already tapping away as he prepared to make the purchase.

“See? I knew you wanted something,” he cheered, his voice practically bursting with excitement. He was absolutely eager to spoil you once again. Honestly, he’d buy you a whole island if you so much as hinted at wanting it.

With a smile, Rafe bent down to meet you at eye level, his phone in hand. “What is it you wanted?” he asked, his tone tender and full of affection.

You scrunch your nose in the cutest way possible, to Rafe, before pulling him closer and, in a soft voice, said, “Your love. All I want for Christmas is love.”

Rafe paused, his expression shifting as he absorbed your words. He put down his phone, attention now entirely on you. “Yeah? That’s it?” he asked, a touch of disbelief in his voice.

You nodded, a bright, eager smile illuminating your face. “That’s it,” you repeated, your heart full. The love between you two was magnetic, something so deep and pure, it almost felt like magic. It was the kind of love that made everything feel secondary. In that moment, Rafe thought—no, knew—he might love you forever.

Without a second thought, Rafe swept you up in his arms and carried you up the stairs of your shared home. The sounds of your laughter and his heartbeat echoed in the quiet house. ”My love it is, my darling,” he murmured as you both entered the bedroom, the outside world fading away.

He set you gently on the bed, his eyes locked on yours, filled with unspoken promise. “My love you’ll get,” he said, voice low, full of devotion and a tinge of desire.

In that moment, you both knew that all the gifts in the world could never compare to the love you shared.

if you made it to this point, thank you for reading ! i found my thing for the new year i guess 🤭 !!!

#⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ vampireinprada’s body (of works) ☽｡⋆#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #Spotify

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mhsofe · 2 days ago

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Reunion With The Crew | Jimmy × Reader.

♡ in this au, the pony express shuts down and all of them just pretty much have normal lifes lol

(pretty much kinda ooc but idc, i want all of them to be happy 💔)

CW: mild language, alcohol consumption, SLIGHTTTT mouth to mouth feed. (bare with me ladies and gentlemens..)

You walked into the living room where Jimmy was sprawled on the couch, completely engrossed in the TV. His eyes flickered to you for a brief second before he turned his attention back to the screen.

"Jimmy."

No response.

"Jimmy."

Silence. You crossed your arms, a little frustrated, and tried again.

"Hey, babe," you said, this time with more authority in your voice. Your tone caught his attention, and he finally let out a grunt, slowly turning his head toward you. "What? Can't you see I'm watchin' TV?"

You shook your head with a small, amused smile and sat down beside him, showing him your phone screen. "Well, I got a text from Daisuke," you said, tapping the message to make sure he saw it. "He's inviting us to his house for a reunion."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, scanning the text, then glanced at you with mild curiosity. "Hm. So, ya wanna go to his house?"

You could practically feel the enthusiasm bubbling inside you. You’d been wanting a reason to catch up with everyone, and this felt like the perfect opportunity. You gave him a wide grin and nodded. "Of course! The others are also coming, and it’s been so long since we’ve all, you know... met up or done something together. It's a great chance for a little reunion!"

Jimmy looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, like he was weighing the options in his head. His eyes softened after a second, and he let out a long sigh. "Fine, maybe catching up with Curly wouldn't be so bad."

He pushed himself up from the couch, stretching with a grunt. His gaze fell on you again as he towered over you. "Get ready, babe."

You couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across your face, and before you even realized it, you lunged at his back, wrapping your arms around him in an unexpected hug. "I knew you’d accept!" you exclaimed, laughing into his shoulder.

You pulled away, feeling a little giddy as you ran to the shared bedroom to get ready for the night. Jimmy watched you for a moment, still smiling, before grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading toward the door.

A few minutes later, you stepped out of the bedroom, fully ready, and made your way toward the front door where Jimmy was waiting. As soon as you appeared, he couldn't help but take an appreciative look, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. He slightly leaned against the wall, clearly caught off guard by how stunning you looked.

"Damn," was all he managed to say, his voice low and full of admiration, his gaze lingering on you with no attempt to hide it.

You let out a light chuckle, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Eyes up here, mister," you teased, pointing toward your face.

Jimmy quickly cleared his throat, blinking a couple of times as he snapped out of his daze. "Well, damn baby," he said, his voice rougher now with genuine appreciation. "You look... good." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered but still smirking as he tried to regain some composure.

You grinned, feeling both flattered and amused by the effect you had on him. Jimmy pulled his keys out of his pocket, fumbling slightly as he unlocked the door to the car. "Let's go," he said, trying to sound casual but with a hint of excitement in his voice. "We wouldn’t want our friends to keep waiting."

As he opened the door, you slid into the passenger seat, feeling the warmth of the moment. Jimmy hopped in next to you, his smile never fading as he started the car. The drive to Daisuke’s place was filled with light conversation and laughter, the anticipation of the night ahead adding a spark to the atmosphere.

As you arrived at Daisuke's house, the excitement bubbling inside you was impossible to ignore. The lights from the house glowed warmly, and you could hear faint chatter and laughter from inside. The thought of seeing everyone again made your heart race.

Jimmy pulled the car up to the porch and barely had time to put it in park before you were out, slamming the door shut in your eagerness. "Easy on the car!" he called out, a hint of amusement in his tone, as he quickly followed behind you.

You practically bounced up the steps and rang the doorbell, unable to stop yourself from smiling. A few seconds passed before the door was flung open with dramatic energy. Standing there was none other than Daisuke, grinning wide as he looked at you and Jimmy.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up!" Daisuke said, his voice full of mock scolding but with a warm undertone. He looked you up and down with an exaggerated whistle. "Damn, looking sharp! And Jimmy, good to see you didn’t let her outshine you completely."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, smirking. "Yeah, yeah, let us in before you freeze the whole neighborhood."

Daisuke laughed and stepped aside, motioning for the two of you to come in. As you stepped inside, the familiar buzz of conversation and the sound of clinking glasses filled the air. The living room was full of familiar faces, and the cozy warmth of the space made you feel right at home.

"Everyone’s here already," Daisuke said, gesturing to the group. "So grab a drink and join the party!"

"Where the hell is Anya?! I miss that girl!" you shouted, your voice carrying over the buzz of the room. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a familiar figure ahead of you. Without hesitation, you gasped and quickly lunged forward, arms wide open.

"ANYAAA!" you yelled, wrapping your arms around her from behind. The poor woman let out a startled gasp, stumbling slightly under the force of your hug.

"Oh, God, you scared me," Anya said with a soft laugh, turning her head to look at you. Despite the surprise, her smile was warm and genuine. "It’s been too long!" she added, patting your arm affectionately as she caught her breath.

Jimmy, who had been watching the interaction with mild amusement, suddenly tensed up when he felt a hand land firmly on his shoulder. Instinctively, he turned quickly, ready to react, only to be met with the wide grin of another familiar face.

"Jimmy! Nice to see you, man!" Curly’s voice was full of enthusiasm, his grip on Jimmy’s shoulder strong and friendly.

Jimmy relaxed, a smirk forming on his face. "Curly," he greeted with a nod. "Still as loud as ever, I see."

"Of course!" Curly laughed, throwing an arm around Jimmy’s shoulders. "Wouldn’t be me otherwise, huh? And look at you two," he added, glancing between you and Jimmy. "Still the power couple, huh?"

You laughed, finally letting go of Anya. "You know it!" you said, giving Jimmy a playful nudge. Anya smiled softly at the reunion, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It’s good to see everyone again," she said, her voice warm.

"Alright, come on, drinks are in the kitchen," Curly announced, gesturing for the group to follow him. "We’ve got a lot of catching up to do!"

As the four of you made your way into the living room, the scene was already lively. Daisuke and Swansea were busy arranging platters of food on the table, their banter filling the air. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you realized you hadn’t brought anything to contribute.

"Damn, I should've brought something," you muttered, guilt lacing your voice as you crossed your arms.

Before you could dwell on it further, you felt a comforting weight on your left shoulder. Jimmy had leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Hey, it’s fine. Just enjoy the party, baby."

His voice, low and soothing, immediately melted your worries. You smiled softly, stealing a glance at him before looking back at the lively scene in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you shook off the guilt. "Well, let’s get this party started!" you declared with a grin, your excitement taking over.

"WOOHOOO!" Daisuke hollered, suddenly standing on top of a very expensive-looking chair, waving a bottle of soda around like a trophy.

Swansea, clearly unimpressed, let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his temple. "Get the hell down, youngster," he warned, picking up a brightly colored piñata stick with a dramatic flair, "before I swing this piñata axe straight into your face."

The room erupted into laughter, Curly doubling over as he clapped his hands. "Swansea, man, you’re one,of,a,kind!"

Daisuke, unbothered, raised his soda bottle higher. "You wouldn’t dare! I’m the life of this party!"

Swansea cocked an eyebrow, his expression deadpan. "Try me."

Jimmy chuckled beside you, shaking his head at the chaos. "Same group, same energy," he muttered with amusement, slipping an arm around your waist.

You leaned into him, laughing along with the others. "Well, let’s get some snacks. I’m hungry," you said, breaking away from the commotion and nudging Jimmy lightly.

Jimmy nodded, but as you turned toward the table, his gaze lingered on you. His eyes naturally found their way to your lips, his thoughts momentarily wandering as he followed you across the room.

"Jimmy?" you called, glancing over your shoulder when you noticed he hadn’t responded.

"Huh?" he blinked, snapping out of it and clearing his throat, quickly trying to play it cool. "Yeah, snacks. Let’s grab some."

You raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips. "You okay there? Seemed a little distracted," you teased lightly, turning fully to face him.

Jimmy scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks faintly flushing. "Yeah, I’m fine," he said, his voice a little gruffer than usual. "Just... thinking about how lucky I am."

Your smirk softened into a smile as you stepped closer, playfully poking his chest. "You’re smooth, you know that?"

He shrugged, his lips curling into a small, cocky grin. "Only for you, baby."

Shaking your head, you grabbed his hand and led him toward the table where Swansea had just finished arranging an impressive array of snacks. "Come on, let’s eat before Daisuke wipes the table clean."

Jimmy laughed, following your lead. "Good point. That guy’s got no chill when it comes to food."

The two of you grabbed plates and filled them with whatever caught your eye, the warmth of the moment making the party feel even more perfect.

After both of you finished piling food onto your plates, you led Jimmy over to the couch. The two of you settled in, balancing your plates as the lively chatter of the party buzzed around you.

As you looked at the table in front of you, your eyes lit up when you spotted a bottle of alcohol. Grinning, you picked it up and held it out to Jimmy. "Look, Jimmy, alcohol," you said, your voice laced with playful excitement.

Jimmy glanced at the bottle, his lips curling into a smirk, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Well, well," he said, leaning back and eyeing it like it was a prize. "You know I can’t say no to that."

You chuckled, opening the bottle and grabbing two glasses from the table. "I thought as much. Let’s toast to tonight, yeah?"

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "To tonight? What about?"

"To seeing old friends," you said with a soft smile, pouring the drink into both glasses. "And to us, of course."

Jimmy took one of the glasses, his expression softening as he looked at you. "To us," he echoed, clinking his glass against yours before taking a sip.

The alcohol burned just right as it went down, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Jimmy winced slightly. "Strong, huh?" you teased.

"Yeah, but it’s good," he replied, smirking as he set his glass down. "Just like this night."

You leaned back into the couch, savoring the moment as the warmth of the drink mixed with the warmth of the company. It was shaping up to be a night you wouldn’t forget.

Jimmy picked up a small piece of food from his plate, holding it out to you. "Here, have some of mine," he said, his voice soft yet teasing. You leaned forward, parting your lips slightly as you took the food from his fingers.

Your lips lingered just a moment too long, wrapping around the tips of his fingers before pulling away. The heat in his gaze met yours, and the room seemed to grow quieter, the world fading away as the two of you locked eyes. The eye contact was intense-too damn strong

Jimmy's breath hitched as he felt the light graze of your tongue against his skin, his heart skipping a beat. His fingers twitched slightly, as though they wanted to stay where they were, but he pulled his hand back slowly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you noticed the faint flush rising on his cheeks. The expression in his eyes was a mix of surprise, desire, and something softer..something he always reserved just for you

"Careful... don't be a tease now," he warned with a small, crooked smile, though his voice was slightly breathless, betraying how affected he was. His words carried a mix of amusement and affection, but there was an underlying edge of desire that sent a thrill down your spine. You leaned back slightly, licking your lips in a way that felt deliberate.

"Who, me?" you asked innocently, though the playful glint in your eyes said otherwise. Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head, his hand moving to rest on your knee. "You're dangerous, you know that?" he murmured, his tone a little lower, a little rougher.

You chuckled as you grabbed the bottle of champagne and took a deep swig, the fizzy drink going down a little too smoothly. Jimmy watched, his eyes slightly widening at how quickly you drank. A mixture of worry and amusement flashed across his face. He leaned closer, placing a steadying hand on your thigh. "Hey, hey, careful now," he said gently, his thumb lightly brushing against your leg.

"Don't drink too fast, or you'll be out before the party's even halfway done." Jimmy looked at you with concern. "Noo, it's mineee," you slurred, hiccupping as the alcohol began working its way into your system.

Jimmy couldn't help but chuckle softly at your stubborn protest, though his concern lingered. "Yeah, and you'll be all mine to babysit if you keep this up," he teased, reaching for the bottle as if to stop you. You narrowed your eyes at him, mischief sparking in your expression.

Before he could react, you leaned in, pinning him gently against the couch. Your hand grasped his chin firmly as you closed the space between you, your lips capturing his in a bold, alcohol..fueled kiss.

The taste of champagne lingered between you, sweet and intoxicating, as some of it spilled from your lips and trailed down his chin. Jimmy's hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you closer, though his mind was half-focused on the chaos of the situation. As you both got lost in the moment, the sound of a door swinging open jolted you back to reality.

"WHOA, GUYS, WHAT'S GOING ON OVER HERE?" Daisuke's voice rang out, loud and dramatic, causing the entire room to pause.

Your head snapped up, cheeks flushing as you turned to see Daisuke standing there with his hands on his hips, a mix of shock and delight plastered on his face. Behind him, Anya looked completely stunned, her jaw slightly dropped. Curly, ever the instigator, raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, well, look who's stealing the show." And as always, Swansea remained unimpressed, shaking his head with a long sigh. "Oh, these kids," he muttered, rubbing his temple.

Jimmy groaned, tilting his head back against the couch in exasperation. "Great. Just great," he muttered, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. You couldn't help but laugh, the embarrassment fading as the ridiculousness of the situation settled in.

"Guess we're the life of the party now," you said with a grin, wiping the champagne from Jimmy's chin. "Yeah, but next time," Jimmy said, giving you a pointed look, "maybe a little warning first?"

The others gradually returned to their conversations, leaving you, Jimmy, and Curly in your little corner of the room. Curly leaned casually against the arm of the couch, his mischievous grin growing as he eyed Jimmy.

"So, Jimmy," he began, his voice dripping with mock innocence, "how was it getting… mouth-needed by your partner?"

Jimmy’s head snapped up, his face flushing a deep red as he glared at Curly. "Shut up, Curly," he muttered through gritted teeth, rubbing the back of his neck in a futile attempt to hide his embarrassment.

You, still feeling the buzz from the champagne, let out a laugh, your head tilting as you watched the scene unfold. Curly’s grin widened at your reaction, clearly encouraged.

"Aw, come on, man," Curly continued, leaning in like he was about to share a juicy secret. "Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. You looked like you were in a whole other world for a second there."

Jimmy groaned, dragging a hand down his face as if to wipe away the secondhand embarrassment. "Curly, I swear to God, drop it," he said, though his tone carried more resignation than anger.

You, finding the whole exchange amusing, raised your glass lazily. "It’s not like that," you slurred slightly, waving a hand dismissively. "We’re just... having fun, you know?"

Curly raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Fun, huh? Sure, I’ll buy that. But the way you two were looking at each other? Whew, sparks flying all over the place. Can’t blame a guy for noticing."

Jimmy’s groan deepened as he slouched further into the couch, his hand covering his eyes. "Why do I even talk to you?" he mumbled, though his lips twitched as if fighting back a smile.

Curly laughed, clearly pleased with himself. "Because you love me, bro. And because you know I’m right."

You chuckled softly, reaching out to pat Jimmy’s leg. "Relax, babe," you teased, leaning in slightly. "At least Curly’s paying attention to something other than his hair for once."

Curly gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Wow, betrayal from both sides. I see how it is."

The playful banter eased the tension, leaving Jimmy shaking his head and muttering under his breath while you and Curly shared a laugh. Moments like these made the chaos of your friend group feel oddly perfect.

Finally, after Curly sauntered off, satisfied with the chaos he’d caused, Jimmy turned his attention back to you. He sighed, rubbing his temple briefly before his hand moved to gently grip your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes met his.

Your tipsy smile faltered slightly as the intensity in his gaze caught you off guard. Leaning in close, his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and teasing, "I’ll have to teach you a lesson, eh?"

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and your hazy mind struggled to keep up with the sudden shift in mood. His chuckle rumbled softly as he leaned back slightly to take in your expression, amused by the mixture of surprise and playfulness on your face.

"You think you can just get away with all that teasing?" he added, his tone a mix of affection and mock sternness. "You’re lucky I love you, or I might actually make you pay for it."

You giggled, swaying slightly as your hands instinctively rested on his chest. "Oh, come on," you slurred, grinning up at him. "You wouldn’t dare."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Try me," he said, his hand slipping from your chin to your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

The tension between you lingered for a moment before the sound of someone yelling from the other room broke the spell. "Oi! You two lovebirds better not be starting something again!" Daisuke’s voice echoed, drawing laughter from the rest of the group.

Jimmy sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "Saved by the bell," he murmured, letting go of you but keeping his hand lightly on your hip.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into him slightly. "You’ll just have to wait for your ‘lesson,’ huh?" you teased, earning a playful glare from him.

"Don’t push your luck," he muttered, though the fondness in his tone was impossible to miss.

---------

#jimmy x reader #mouthwashing jimmy x reader #mouthwashing #mouthwashing jimmy #fanfiction #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #slightly suggestive #im tired #jimmy x reader mouthwashing #slight curly x reader #curly x reader #yeah ok bye #bromance

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g4rvez-r3id · 3 hours ago

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Dream A Little Dream

Bf! Spencer Reid x Gf!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer comes home from work and finds you sleeping in bed and he’s completely mesmerized by you as you sleep.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: spencer likes watching you sleep (but not in a creepy way), fluffiest of the fluff, cuddling, talks about weird dreams and dream analysis, spencer is completely infatuated with you 🤭

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! i got this idea bc i love love love cuddling fics with reid 🤭 i wish this man were real so bad :( anyways i hope you enjoy this hehe

“Honey, I’m home,” Spencer smiled gently to himself as he heard the words leave his mouth. He never imagined he’d ever say that out loud to anyone. But now he had you. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it every time he said it.

He’d called out to you but there had been no answer. Granted, it was three in the morning, he figured you were probably asleep by now.

Spencer softly closed the door and he placed his satchel down by the door and removed his converse off from his feet, placing them next to your shoes near the table they’d had near the door. He scrunches his nose as his mismatched socks (he’d opted for a light blue sock paired with a yellow sock with patterns on it) patter on the floor as he walks towards the kitchen.

By the evidence on the stove, you’d made chicken Alfredo pasta. A good chunk of the pasta is left on the stove — you most likely saved it for him because you worry about how skinny he is — and he smiles to himself. At least you ate.

He makes his way over to your guys’ shared bedroom and that’s when he sees it. You’re on the bed, sleeping soundly and bundled up under the covers but sprawled across the bed, holding his pillow, no less and wearing one of his old CalTech sweatshirts. On the bed is your laptop laid far away but not too far where it would fall off the bed. No, it looked like you were in the middle of work and decided to take a break and instead had fallen asleep.

Spencer leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and a warm smile as he watches you sleep. He’d often took advantage of the times where he’d come in from work late.

He liked watching you sleep. But not in a total creep kinda way, absolutely not. He more so liked seeing you so well-rested since you were always up on your feet, dealing with work and stress and never really taking a break from anything since you were so independent. It was one of the many things he liked about you. But in all seriousness, it might’ve been his favorite thing about you.

He adored the way your nose would scrunch while you slept and the way that you snored softly into the pillow. Sometimes, you’d even had a dribble of drool onto the pillow and he even found that cute. He’d found everything cute about you.

Eventually, he’d had enough of just looking at you and decided to join you. The first thing he’d done was remove and close your laptop and carefully place it on the dresser. He even opts to put it on the charger for you.

He begins slipping off his slacks along with his dress shirt and cardigan and puts on a gray t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms and quietly climbed into the covers next to you.

He carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly and you stir a bit and scrunch your nose up once more and open your eyes to see your boyfriend, smiling warmly at you.

“Hi, honey.” He whispers and you inhale deeply as you smile sleepily at him. “You’re home!” You cheer tiredly as you scoot closer to him, you head resting on his chest and inhaling his scent as you snuggle as close as you can to him.

“I am home,” He smiles as he holds you impossibly closer. He looks down at you as you keep your eyes closed and hold him as tight as you can. “Are you okay, sweet girl?”

You nod into his chest as you open your eyes and look up at him. “I’m perfect, now that you’re here.” Spencer smiles softly at you as you rest your head again on his chest.

“Were you in dreamland?” Spencer asks with a crooked smile.

There was an abundance of times where you’d dream strange dreams. Like one time you were being chased by a hot dog or the other time you were awake on a gurney while doctors performed open-heart surgery on you. Point of the matter was, you had weird dreams.

And you could brush those off as getting food poisoning from a hot dog and never eating them again or when you fell asleep watching Grey’s Anatomy but you always dug deeper into your dreams.

Like you being chased by a hot dog could meet something that’s entirely harmless is causing you stress or overwhelming you. Or the fact that maybe you had a fear or an anxiety of being awake while having open heart surgery. You were one of the few people in Spencer Reid’s life that read into your dreams. He wasn’t one to believe in dream analysis, but you did. And so he’d often asked what you dreamed about this time, since you had dreams like that so often.

“Mhm,” You smack your lips with a sigh and curled up impossibly deeper into his chest. “This time, I was flying without wings.” You said and he furrowed his brows with an amused smile on his face. “Flying without wings?”

You nod once more, “I was suddenly floating and all of a sudden, I was falling and right before I hit the ground, I woke up.” You told him and he thinks to himself at this.

“When you dream about falling and then suddenly wake up just before hitting the ground, it's usually due to a "hypnic jerk,"” Spencer tells, being the rambler he was. And you gladly listened every time. The first time you’d gone out with him, he kept apologizing about his rambles about whatever was on his mind. You assured him that you really didn’t mind, you loved listening to him talk.

“It’s an involuntary muscle contraction that happens when your body is transitioning between wakefulness and sleep, often interpreted by your brain as a sensation of falling, causing you to jolt awake.” Spencer tells and you shrug, “Yeah, it was something like that.”

Spencer smiles softly, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as he rubs your back, back and forth with his hand. You drifted off for a moment before looking back up at him and he kept his eyes trained right on you. Like you were his only given vice, something worth living for and fighting for. To which, you were. To him, at least.

“How was work?” You asked and he turned away from you as he answers, “We can talk about it later.” Which was code for, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it right now but I mean it when I say we can talk about it later’. And when he was ready, he’d talk about with you. Eventually, he did.

“Right now, I just wanna stay here with you.” Spencer told and you smile into his chest, “I missed you.” You tell and he chuckles, “I missed you, too, sweet girl. And I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You snuggled with him, hiking your leg across his torso and holding onto him as you closed your eyes and your breathing evened once more. He smiles, looking down at you and not wanting to move a muscle to disrupt you. He probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight since he’d be too busy staring at your sleeping features and silently thanking God you were in his life and that he could share these moments with you.

And in the morning, he’d tell you that he asked Hotch for a few days off in advance because he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. Your guys’ schedules always seemed to be opposites and the only time you’d ever really get together is in bed, like this. You deserved a few days to be with him and he you.

But for now, he’d let you sleep and veer off into dreamland again.

#criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x fem!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid blurb #g4rvez-r3id #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds one shot

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niallerspayno · 2 days ago

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About Last Night - Part 4

Masterlist

You and Louis continue to navigate the final weeks of your pregnancy, along with the boys being there to support the both of you.

Tags: Louis x pregnant reader, lots of fluff, hospitals and pain

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

...

The energy in the stadium is electric, the cheers of thousands of fans filling the air as the final chords of the closing song fade out. The boys gather at the edge of the stage, sweat glistening on their brows and smiles lighting up their faces. Louis grabs a microphone, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Thank you, Manchester!” he shouts, his grin wide and boyish. “You lot have been absolutely unreal tonight—and this whole tour. We couldn’t do it without you.”

The fans erupt into cheers, and Niall steps forward, his own mic in hand. “Seriously, you’ve been incredible. Best fans in the world!”

Zayn nods and flashes a rare but genuine smile, leaning into his mic. “Yeah, thank you for sticking with us. It means everything.”

Harry cracks a joke about losing half his wardrobe to fans over the years, earning a wave of laughter, and Liam promises new music soon, his tone warm and heartfelt.

Finally, Louis turns to you, his blue eyes sparkling under the stage lights. “And before we wrap this up, there’s someone else who deserves a huge thank you.” He gestures for you to join them, and despite the roaring crowd, you feel a flicker of hesitation.

But Louis reaches out, his hand steady and inviting, and you take it, letting him pull you to his side. The cheers grow louder as he beams at you.

“This one right here,” he says into the mic, his voice filled with pride. “She’s been with us every step of the way this tour, even when it hasn’t been easy. So let’s give it up for her, yeah?”

The crowd responds with a deafening roar, and you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the overwhelming support. Taking the mic Louis hands you, you smile at the sea of faces.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” you begin, your voice a little shaky but steadying as you continue. “Not just to the boys but to all of you. You’ve been so patient and understanding while I’ve been figuring out how to navigate... well, everything.” You place a hand on your bump for emphasis, earning a wave of cheers.

Niall steps forward, his grin boyish and full of warmth. “And she’s been a legend, hasn’t she? A total star!”

The crowd erupts into cheers again, and you can’t help but laugh, feeling a wave of affection for him and the others.

“And I promise,” you add with a grin, “next time I’ll be able to give you a hundred percent again.”

Louis takes the mic back, his hand slipping to rest protectively over yours on your belly. His face softens, and his voice drops just enough to make the moment feel intimate, despite the thousands of people watching.

“Next tour’s gonna be a bit different, though,” he says, glancing at you before looking back at the crowd. “Because I’ll be a dad, and she’ll be a mum.”

The audience erupts, the cheers shaking the entire venue. Louis’ words hit you in the chest, a mixture of love and pride blooming in your heart. The other boys beam, patting Louis on the back and giving you knowing smiles.

Harry leans into his mic, winking at the crowd. “We might have to add some lullabies to the setlist.”

Niall chimes in with a cheeky grin. “Or get the baby some earplugs. Loudest kid in the world already, I reckon.”

The laughter from both the band and the crowd is infectious, and Louis pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple as the music swells for the final bow.

Together, with your little one growing between you, you step forward with the boys, hand in hand, ready to close this chapter and start the next.

...

The atmosphere at the bar buzzes with post-concert energy, the perfect blend of exhaustion and triumph fueling the celebration. Glasses clink, and laughter ripples through the room as the boys share stories of the tour, each memory growing more exaggerated and ridiculous with every retelling.

You sit nestled in the corner of the booth, sipping your sparkling water with lime. At 31 weeks pregnant, you’re doing your best to stay engaged, but your body isn’t exactly cooperating. Your back aches, your feet throb, and you can’t help but long for a comfortable bed and quiet.

Louis, ever-attentive, sits beside you, his arm protectively draped over the back of your seat. He’s been glued to your side all evening, stealing glances at you between conversations and checking in every few minutes.

“You sure you’re alright, love?” he asks again, his voice low so only you can hear. His hand gently squeezes your knee.

You give him a tired but genuine smile. “I’m fine, Lou. Just a bit sore and tired, that’s all.”

Louis frowns, not entirely convinced. “Do you want to go back to the hotel? I can make an excuse—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “This is a big night for us and the boys. I’m not missing it.”

Louis leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Biggest night of my life is sitting right here with me,” he murmurs, his words making your heart ache in the best way.

“Oi, what’s all the whispering about?” Niall interrupts, sliding into the booth across from you with a teasing grin. He holds up his soda. “You and me, non-drinkers’ club. Cheers to sparkling water.”

You laugh and clink your glass against his. “Cheers, Niall. Thanks for joining the club.”

“Only for you, darling,” Niall says dramatically, earning a chuckle from Louis.

A moment later, Liam joins, carrying an extra cushion he swiped from one of the bar’s chairs. “Thought you might need this,” he says, placing it gently behind your back.

You look up at him in surprise, warmth spreading across your face. “Liam, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Liam replies with a soft smile. “Figured you might need a bit of extra support. Don’t let him take all the credit,” he adds, nodding toward Louis.

“She never does,” Louis quips, earning a laugh from the table.

Harry saunters over, sliding into the seat beside Niall. “Alright, what’s the verdict? Are we raising the next frontman for the band or a future footballer?”

Louis smirks. “Why not both?”

Zayn follows with a plate of fries, setting them in front of you without a word.

You blink up at him, your face lighting up. “Zayn, you’re officially my favorite tonight.”

“Oi,” Louis protests immediately. “What about me?”

“You’re a close second,” you tease, popping a fry into your mouth as laughter erupts around the table.

The banter continues, the boys all taking turns doting on you in their own way. Even Liam can’t resist, offering to grab you anything else you might need.

As the night progresses, Louis clears his throat, his hand resting on your knee again. He glances at you, a silent question in his eyes. You nod softly, giving him permission.

“Alright, everyone,” Louis announces, his voice cutting through the hum of the bar. “We’ve got some news.”

The table quiets immediately, all eyes on the two of you.

“We’ve decided,” Louis continues, a proud smile tugging at his lips, “that we’re moving in together.”

The room erupts in cheers and congratulations. Niall raises his glass with a wide grin. “About bloody time! You two are a proper team already.”

Liam nods in agreement, his voice sincere. “It makes sense. You’ve already been there for each other through so much. It’s the next step.”

Harry leans back, smirking. “Louis and domestic life—this I’ve gotta see.”

“I’m an excellent cook,” Louis fires back defensively.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “He burns toast.”

Zayn shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Seriously though, that’s great. You two are going to smash it.”

Louis glances at you again, his hand squeezing yours. “We already are, aren’t we?”

Your heart swells as you lean into him, his arm wrapping securely around your shoulders. For the first time in weeks, the exhaustion and aches feel secondary to the overwhelming love and support radiating from the people around you. You look around the table, feeling lucky beyond words.

...

The plane touches down at Heathrow, and the bittersweet weight of the moment sinks in as you and Louis step off the plane. The familiarity of London feels comforting, but the knowledge that this marks the end of the tour leaves your heart heavy.

In the bustling terminal, the band gathers near the baggage carousel. The energy is subdued, the usual chatter replaced with reflective silence. The past months have been a whirlwind, and now it’s time to say goodbye—for now.

Harry is the first to step forward. His arms open wide as he gives you a warm hug, his curls tickling your cheek. “Take care of yourself, yeah? And don’t let Louis boss you around too much.”

“I’m the boss,” you reply with a small laugh, squeezing him tightly.

Harry pulls back, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s what I like to hear. Don’t be a stranger.”

Next is Zayn, who leans in for a hug without much fanfare, but his actions speak volumes. “You’ve done good,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a murmur. “I mean it. You’re family.”

The lump in your throat grows as you nod, unable to form words. His calm presence has been a quiet comfort throughout the tour, and you’ll miss it.

Liam steps up, his kind smile making you feel at ease even as the tears threaten to fall. He pulls you into a firm hug. “You’ve been incredible through all this. You’ve got a lot on your plate, but you’ve handled it better than anyone else could. We’ll be around if you need anything, alright?”

“Thanks, Liam,” you manage to choke out, touched by his sincerity.

He steps back, looking at Louis. “Take care of her, mate. Not that I doubt you will.”

Louis nods, his arm tightening around your waist. “Always.”

Then there’s Niall. Your heart twists as he approaches, his expression a mix of pride and sadness. Niall’s been your rock, from the very start of this journey to now. He steps close, wrapping you in a hug that’s warmer and longer than any of the others.

“Don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” he murmurs into your ear. “You’ve been my partner in crime, you know that?”

Tears spill over, and you cling to him. “You’re going to be fine, Niall. And you’ll come over all the time, right? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Damn right I will.” He pulls back, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You’ve got something amazing ahead, though. And I’m so happy for you. Both of you.”

You smile through the tears, wiping at your cheeks. “Thanks, Niall. For everything.”

He steps back, clearing his throat and giving Louis a pointed look. “You better keep her happy, Tommo. Or I’ll be moving in.”

Louis grins, clapping Niall on the back. “Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”

With all the goodbyes said, the boys gather their luggage, ready to head off in different directions. They promise to visit often, knowing events, interviews, and their unbreakable bond will keep them connected.

As you watch them walk away, your heart feels heavy but full. Louis leans down to press a kiss to your temple, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You alright, love?”

You nod, smiling up at him despite the tears. “Yeah. Just… a lot to take in.”

He squeezes your hand, his gaze filled with nothing but love. “We’ve got this. Together.”

And with that, you leave the airport, ready to step into the next chapter of your lives.

...

As Louis pulls into the driveway of his home, a warm sense of familiarity washes over you. It’s cozy and welcoming, much like the man sitting beside you. You smile as you glance at him, his face lighting up with pride as he parks the car.

“Welcome home,” he says softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a swell of emotion at the idea of this being your shared space. You’re about to grab your bag when Louis holds up a finger.

“Wait. Before we go in, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “Oh? What’s that?”

Before he can answer, the front door swings open, and you hear a familiar voice call out. “Louis! You’re back!”

Your jaw drops as you see Johannah and Lottie stepping out onto the porch, beaming at the sight of the two of you.

“Johannah? Lottie?” you exclaim, looking to Louis for an explanation.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Surprise! I may have invited them over for dinner.”

“You could have warned me!” you hiss, though there’s no real heat in your tone.

He chuckles and leans in, whispering, “Thought it’d be nice for them to see you again—and for you to meet them properly, you know, as my girlfriend. And the soon-to-be mother of my child.”

Your heart swells despite the nerves fluttering in your chest. You’ve met Johannah and Lottie before in the context of being a band member, but this is entirely different.

By the time you step out of the car, Johannah is already making her way over. She envelops you in a warm hug, her genuine affection immediately putting you at ease.

“It’s so lovely to see you again,” she says, pulling back to give you a once-over. “And look at you! Absolutely glowing.”

You can’t help but smile, her kindness melting away your nerves. “It’s so nice to see you too, Johannah.”

“And me, obviously,” Lottie pipes up, her grin mischievous as she pulls you into a hug next. “This is such an exciting surprise.”

“It’s definitely a surprise,” you say with a laugh, shooting Louis a playful glare.

Johannah waves you toward the house. “Come on in. We’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Inside, the dining table is set beautifully, and the delicious smell of a home-cooked meal fills the air. You feel a bit overwhelmed but also incredibly touched by the effort they’ve put in.

As dinner begins, the conversation flows easily. Johannah asks about the pregnancy, her enthusiasm contagious, while Lottie teases Louis mercilessly about finally settling down.

“So, are you ready for all those sleepless nights, big brother?” Lottie quips, smirking over her glass of wine.

Louis rolls his eyes but smiles. “I’ll manage. Not like I’ll be doing it alone.” He places a hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Johannah beams at the two of you. “You’re going to make a wonderful little family. I couldn’t be prouder.”

Her words bring a lump to your throat, and you blink back tears as you look at Louis. He meets your gaze with so much love that you feel your nerves dissipate completely.

By the end of the night, you feel fully embraced by Johannah and Lottie, their warmth and support wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. As they say their goodbyes, Johannah hugs you tightly one more time.

“You’re part of the family now,” she says softly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

As they leave and the house falls quiet, you turn to Louis, unable to hide your smile.

“That was... really nice,” you admit, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around you.

“I told you it would be,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Welcome home, love.”

...

A few days later the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house, and you glance at Louis with a knowing smile as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Let me guess,” he says, already pushing himself off the couch. “Niall.”

You laugh, nodding as you watch him head to the door. Sure enough, moments later, Louis returns with Niall trailing behind him, holding a small box and a handful of brochures.

“Guess who’s here to be the best uncle ever?” Niall announces, a wide grin on his face as he kicks off his shoes.

“Niall, you already won that title by default,” you tease, standing up to greet him.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t secure my lead,” he counters, leaning down to give you a careful hug before setting the box on the coffee table. “Brought something for the nursery—and these.” He fans out the brochures with a flourish.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Are those... nursery design ideas?”

“Yup!” Niall says proudly. “Figured you two haven’t started yet, so I’d help get the ball rolling.”

You glance at the brochures and then at Niall, warmth blooming in your chest. “That’s really thoughtful of you. Thank you, Niall.”

He shrugs, but his smile grows softer. “Anything for you guys. Now, open the box!”

You sit down on the couch, Louis taking a seat beside you, as Niall perches on the edge of the coffee table. Carefully, you lift the lid of the box to reveal a beautifully handmade wooden mobile. Small, intricately carved shapes of stars, moons, and clouds dangle delicately from strings, their craftsmanship stunning.

“Oh, Niall,” you breathe, running your fingers over the smooth wood. “This is... it’s perfect.”

Louis reaches over, lifting one of the tiny moons with a reverent look. “Mate, did you make this?”

Niall blushes slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had a little help, but yeah. Thought it might add a nice personal touch to the nursery.”

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes and quickly wipe them away, smiling at Niall through your emotion. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“Oi, don’t cry!” Niall exclaims, half-teasing, half-concerned. “I’m supposed to be helping, not making you emotional.”

“Too late for that,” Louis mutters with a grin, leaning over to kiss your temple.

As you calm yourself, Niall spreads out the brochures on the coffee table, motioning for you and Louis to join him. “Alright, so I’ve got ideas for themes, color palettes, furniture—you name it.”

For the next hour, the three of you pour over the brochures, debating everything from neutral tones to bright pops of color. Niall’s enthusiasm is infectious, and soon, you and Louis are bouncing ideas off him as if he’s an honorary interior designer.

“Okay, so we’re thinking stars and moons as a theme,” Niall says, scribbling notes on a pad he brought along. “Soft blues, creams, and maybe a touch of gold for accents. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Louis agrees, glancing at you for confirmation.

You nod, feeling excitement bubble up for the first time about putting the nursery together. “I love it. Thank you for this, Niall. Really.”

“Hey, anything for my favourite little family,” he says with a wink. “Now, let’s figure out where to start shopping!”

...

The bedroom is chaos—dresses strewn everywhere, shoes kicked off into random corners, and the vanity cluttered with makeup and jewelry. You’re standing in front of the mirror, glaring at your reflection as your hands tug at the hem of the dress you’ve been trying to make work for the past ten minutes.

Tonight’s event is a big one—a fancy charity gala where you and the boys are expected to make an appearance. You’re thrilled to see everyone again and can’t wait to catch up with Harry, Zayn, Liam, and Niall. It’s been too long since you’ve all been in the same place, laughing and joking like old times.

But instead of being excited about the evening, you’re caught up in the growing frustration of trying to find something—anything—that makes you feel good. At 33 weeks pregnant, nothing seems to fit the way you want, and the insecurity has hit harder than usual with the thought of facing the paparazzi tonight.

“God,” you mutter under your breath, smoothing your hands over the fabric clinging to your growing belly. “I look like a whale.”

From the doorway, Louis’ voice cuts in, light and teasing but laced with warmth. “Now, now, love. Don’t be insulting my gorgeous girlfriend like that.”

You spin to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, and your heart skips a beat. He looks devastatingly good in a tailored black suit, the crisp white shirt underneath unbuttoned just enough to hint at his collarbone. The sight of him, all sharp angles and boyish charm, takes the edge off your frustration for a moment.

But then you remember your reflection, and the frown returns. “Louis, I’m serious. Look at me! Nothing fits right, and I just look... huge.”

He steps into the room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes soft as they sweep over you. “You don’t look huge. You look like the absolute goddess that you are.”

You roll your eyes, unable to stop the bitter laugh that escapes. “Don’t start with that ‘glowing’ nonsense again.”

“Alright,” he says, grinning as he walks up to you. “How about this: You look hot.” His voice drops on the last word, and the heat in his tone makes your cheeks flush.

“Louis...”

“No, really,” he interrupts, his hands gently gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. His thumbs rub soft circles against your sides. “Do you know what it does to me, seeing you like this? These curves—” He lets his hands drift over your hips and down to the swell of your belly, his voice turning low and full of mischief. “—every last one of them. You’re even more irresistible than usual.”

Your breath hitches, your earlier frustration melting under his gaze. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Nope,” he says, popping the p with a cheeky grin. “I’m saying it because it’s true. You’re carrying our baby, love. You’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen. And if you weren’t so annoyed at this dress, I’d probably have to pin you against the wall right now and show you just how much I mean it.”

You laugh despite yourself, swatting his chest lightly. “Louis!”

“What?” he says, his grin turning softer as he cups your cheek. “It’s the truth. You’re gorgeous, and I’m the luckiest man alive.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and tears well up in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“Always,” he promises, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and lingering, filled with the kind of reassurance that settles deep in your heart.

When he pulls back, he tugs at the dress slightly. “This one’s perfect, by the way. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You glance back at the mirror, and for the first time all evening, you see what he sees—a woman who’s radiant, strong, and glowing with life.

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “Let’s do this.”

“That’s my girl.” He steps back, offering you his arm. “And don’t worry, love—I’ll be by your side the whole time. If any of those photographers so much as look at you wrong, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You laugh as you loop your arm through his, already feeling lighter. “I think I might actually be excited now. I can’t wait to see the boys.”

“They can’t wait to see you either,” Louis says as he leads you out. “Though I’ll have to remind them to keep their hands off—you’re mine, after all.”

The cheeky wink he throws your way has you rolling your eyes, but the smile that spreads across your face is undeniable. As the two of you head out, your heart feels full, and for the first time all evening, you’re not thinking about how you look—you’re just thinking about how loved you feel.

...

The event is in full swing by the time you and Louis step out of the car, hand in hand. The red carpet is dazzling under the flashes of the cameras, and though the noise and chaos of it all make your nerves twinge, Louis’ steady grip keeps you grounded.

“You ready for this, love?” he murmurs, leaning close as you approach the entrance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply, squeezing his hand.

The moment you step into the venue, a wave of warmth washes over you. Familiar faces greet you—celebrities, industry professionals, and longtime supporters of the charity the event is for. The boys are already scattered around, chatting and laughing with guests, but they immediately light up when they see you.

“There she is!” Niall grins, making his way over with a drink in hand. “How’s my favorite mum-to-be?”

“Excited to see all of you,” you say with a smile, accepting his gentle hug.

“You’re glowing,” Harry comments as he approaches, his charm dialed up as always. “And Louis, mate, look at you—ever the doting partner.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Louis quips, a proud smile spreading across his face.

Zayn and Liam join the group shortly after, their greetings just as warm. It feels like coming home, surrounded by the boys’ easy banter and genuine affection. For the first time in what feels like weeks, you’re not thinking about how tired or sore you are—you’re just enjoying the moment.

Throughout the evening, you catch up with old friends and acquaintances. There’s laughter, heartfelt congratulations, and even a few playful jabs at Louis, who takes it all in stride with his usual humor.

“You two are going to be amazing parents,” Rita Ora says with a warm smile. “And if your kid has even half the personality you both do, the world’s in for a treat.”

The words make you blush, and Louis beams, pulling you a little closer. “We’ll do our best,” he says.

But as the night wears on, the energy in the room shifts. The press and paparazzi start to linger closer, their questions and cameras becoming more invasive. You try to brush it off, but the constant attention starts to grate on your nerves.

“Over here, Louis! How’s fatherhood treating you?”

“Y/N, what are you most nervous about with the baby on the way?”

The questions come rapid-fire, and while Louis does his best to shield you, the noise and flashing lights start to feel suffocating.

It’s Niall who notices first. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says firmly, stepping in front of you. “Give her some space, yeah?”

Harry and Liam are quick to follow, their presence forming a protective barrier around you.

“She’s here to enjoy the night, not be interrogated,” Zayn adds, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the chaos.

Louis’ hand never leaves yours as he turns to the crowd, his tone steady but laced with warning. “You’ve got your photos. Now, back off.”

The collective effort of all the boys is enough to send the press retreating, and you breathe a sigh of relief as the noise dies down.

“You alright, love?” Louis asks, his concern evident as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you say, offering a small smile. “Thanks to all of you.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Niall says, flashing you a reassuring grin.

“And we’ll always be,” Harry adds, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder.

The rest of the evening passes more smoothly, the boys making sure to stay close and keep things light. By the time you’re heading home, you feel a renewed sense of gratitude—not just for Louis, but for the incredible group of men you’re lucky enough to call family.

...

The living room is filled with tension as you pace back and forth, your frustration bubbling over with every step. Everything feels wrong today. Your back is aching, your feet are swollen, and every piece of furniture you attempt to sit on seems determined to make you uncomfortable.

Louis, perched on the armrest of the couch, watches you with cautious concern. “Love, you’re wearing a path in the carpet. Why don’t you take a breather?”

You whip around, your glare sharp enough to make him straighten up. “A breather? Louis, I’ve been sitting and breathing for months. That’s all I can do anymore because of this!” You motion to your belly, which feels impossibly large and heavy.

Louis raises his hands in mock surrender, his tone soft and steady. “Alright, I get it. You’re uncomfortable. But snapping at me isn’t going to make it better.”

“Oh, don’t you dare start with the rational advice,” you snap back, planting your hands on your hips. “This is your fault, you know. You’re the one who got me into this mess!”

Louis blinks, and then, to your utter annoyance, he laughs. “I seem to recall you being pretty enthusiastic about it at the time.”

“That’s not the point!” you grumble, turning away from him. “I’m tired, and miserable, and I still have over a month to go. And everything we’ve bought for the baby is scattered in bags—we haven’t even started the nursery yet!”

At that, Louis gets to his feet, his teasing demeanor giving way to something softer. He steps behind you, his hands settling on your shoulders. “You’re right. We’ve been so busy, and you’ve been dealing with so much. But how about this—we’ll tackle the nursery today?”

You glance over your shoulder, skepticism written all over your face. “How? We’ve barely got a plan.”

“Well,” he says, grinning as he pulls out his phone, “I might’ve already texted Niall to come over. Figured he’d be good for some nursery shopping. You know how he loves planning things.”

Your frustration falters, replaced by a mix of surprise and relief. “You invited Niall?”

“Of course,” Louis says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “He’s been asking about when we’re getting started. Thought he might cheer you up a bit too.”

Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door, followed by the familiar sound of Niall’s voice. “Alright, lovebirds, open up! Let’s get to work!”

Louis smirks and nudges you toward the door. “See? He’s already fired up. You can direct the two of us while we carry the heavy stuff.”

When you open the door, Niall greets you with a warm grin and a small stack of baby catalogues tucked under his arm. “Got some ideas for you,” he says, stepping inside. “Thought we could hit the shops, grab some furniture, maybe a few cute decorations.”

The sight of him, so eager and supportive, melts the last of your irritation. “Thanks, Niall. I could really use the help.”

“Anything for you,” he says with a wink, then glances down at your belly. “And for this little one too. Let’s make their room amazing, yeah?”

With Niall’s infectious enthusiasm and Louis’s steady encouragement, the day starts to look a little brighter. You feel a spark of excitement as you all head out, ready to take on the task together. Maybe things aren’t so bad after all.

…

The nursery has become ground zero for chaos. What started with Louis and Niall quickly spiraled when Niall decided to text the rest of the boys, and now your small house is filled with One Direction in full, uncoordinated action.

Zayn is unpacking boxes at lightning speed, scattering items across the floor with no apparent organization. Harry is flipping through wall color samples and making dramatic pitches about the “calming energy of sage green,” while Liam has somehow become the self-designated foreman, holding a clipboard he found somewhere and jotting down “essential steps.”

You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the whirlwind with a mixture of amusement and mounting irritation. “Are any of you actually doing something productive, or are you just here to make my life harder?”

“Oi, we’re helping!” Niall protests, holding up a tiny set of baby booties like a trophy. “Look at these—they’re adorable!”

“Yeah, well, the baby can’t wear them if we don’t have a proper dresser to put them in,” you snap, pointing to the unopened flatpack still leaning against the wall.

“Got it!” Louis says, stepping up and grabbing the box. “Zayn, give me a hand with this.”

“Why me?” Zayn grumbles, but he joins Louis anyway.

As they start fumbling with the assembly instructions, Harry sidles up to you with a charming grin. “You know, love, you should sit down. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

“Don’t ‘love’ me right now,” you say, leveling a glare at him. “I’m pregnant, not fragile. And maybe I wouldn’t be so stressed if you all weren’t treating this like a circus!”

Harry holds up his hands in surrender, his grin never faltering. “Noted.”

From the corner, Liam clears his throat. “Alright, team, let’s focus. We’ve got a crib to assemble, a dresser to build, and a lot of decorations to hang. Let’s divide and conquer.”

The boys spring into action—or rather, varying levels of action. Niall and Harry are surprisingly efficient at assembling the crib, though they keep breaking into fits of laughter. Louis and Zayn bicker over which screws go where for the dresser, and Liam is busy taping up a diagram of the “ideal layout” on the wall.

You sit down in the corner with a sigh, your irritation ebbing slightly as you watch their antics. Despite the chaos, there’s something endearing about how hard they’re all trying.

Niall looks up and catches your eye. “You alright over there?”

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though your tone is softer now.

“Good,” he says with a wink. “Because this room’s going to be perfect, just you wait.”

By the time the afternoon rolls around, the nursery is actually starting to take shape. The crib is standing proudly in the corner, the dresser is fully assembled (though slightly wonky), and the walls are adorned with a mix of shelves, photos, and baby-themed decorations.

You find yourself smiling as you inspect their work. “Not bad,” you admit grudgingly.

“Not bad?” Louis repeats, pretending to be offended. “Love, this is a masterpiece!”

“It is,” you say, and this time, your smile reaches your eyes. “Thanks, guys. I mean it.”

The boys beam at you, their camaraderie making your chest feel a little lighter. For the first time in weeks, you feel like everything might actually be okay.

…

At 36 weeks pregnant you’re standing in the living room, rubbing your lower back and silently cursing how heavy and tired you feel. Louis has been oddly insistent about keeping you distracted all morning, encouraging you to take a long bath and pick out something comfortable to wear for what he cryptically called “a little outing later.”

But as you waddle into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, you hear a sudden burst of noise behind you.

“Surprise!”

You freeze, turning slowly to find the living room filled with familiar faces. Louis is at the forefront, grinning from ear to ear, and behind him are Niall, Zayn, Harry, and Liam, all looking ridiculously pleased with themselves. But it doesn’t stop there—Louis’ mum, Johanna, is there too, along with his sisters, and even a few of your mutual friends. The house is decorated with pastel-colored balloons and banners that read “Welcome Baby Tomlinson!”

Your hands fly to your mouth as a flood of emotions rushes over you. “What is this?”

“It’s your baby shower, love!” Louis announces, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple. “Figured you deserved to be spoiled a bit.”

“More like a lot,” Niall says, pointing to the dining table, which is groaning under the weight of gifts, snacks, and a massive cake shaped like a baby bottle.

“You’re all insane,” you mutter, but your voice wobbles with gratitude.

“Insanely good at keeping secrets,” Harry teases, handing you a mocktail garnished with fruit.

The next couple of hours fly by in a blur of laughter, games, and heartfelt moments. The boys take every opportunity to dote on you, fetching your drinks, snacks, and even a cushion for your back when you sit down to open presents.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” you say, carefully tearing into a brightly wrapped box while everyone watches. Inside, there’s a tiny blue onesie with the words “I Get My Charm from Daddy” printed across the front.

Louis grins proudly. “That’s from me. Accurate, isn’t it?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help laughing. “Of course it is.”

Zayn’s gift is next—a beautifully illustrated baby book that’s both sentimental and stylish. “Thought it’d be nice to keep track of all the little moments,” he says casually, though you catch the warmth in his smile.

Niall presents you with a custom plush bear that has ‘Baby Tomlinson’ embroidered on the paw. “Figured I’d get a head start on being the favorite uncle,” he says with a wink.

“Don’t start that war, mate,” Liam warns with a chuckle, handing over his gift—a baby carrier that looks both practical and impossibly sleek.

Harry, ever the joker, gives you a pair of baby sunglasses. “Because no child of yours and Louis’ is going to leave the house without style.”

The highlight of the day, though, comes when Johanna stands to make a little speech. “I just want to say how proud I am of you both,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re going to be amazing parents, and I can’t wait to meet my newest grandbaby.”

Her words bring tears to your eyes, and when she pulls you into a warm hug, you cling to her tightly.

As the afternoon winds down, you find yourself leaning against Louis on the couch, surrounded by laughter and love. He kisses your temple and whispers, “Happy?”

“More than happy,” you murmur, your hand resting on your belly as the baby gives a little kick in response. “Thank you for this, Lou. It means everything.”

“Anything for you,” he says softly, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.

…

The house is finally quiet, the baby shower a beautiful but exhausting memory. You’re lying in bed, your head nestled against Louis’ chest as his fingers trace soothing patterns over your belly. The day’s excitement has left you both drained but content, his soft kisses to your hair a gentle lullaby as you drift toward sleep.

But a sharp, tight sensation grips your abdomen, pulling you out of your haze. Your breath catches, and you sit up suddenly, clutching your belly.

“Louis,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Something’s wrong.”

He’s instantly alert, sitting up beside you and flipping on the bedside lamp. His blue eyes search yours, his expression calm but concerned. “What is it, love? Are you in pain?”

You nod, wincing as another wave of tightness washes over you. “It’s—it hurts. I think it might be contractions?”

His face softens with understanding, and he places a steadying hand on your arm. “Alright, take a deep breath. It might be Braxton Hicks, yeah? Practice contractions. Remember, the midwife said they could happen.”

“This doesn’t feel like practice!” you cry, gripping his hand as another cramp rolls through.

“I know, darling, I know,” he murmurs, shifting closer. “Let me help. Come on, let’s get you in a warm bath. It’ll help relax those muscles.”

You nod hesitantly, and he helps you to your feet, steadying you with a supportive arm around your waist. In the bathroom, he quickly fills the tub with warm water, his hands working efficiently but gently as he adds a bit of lavender bubble bath to soothe you further.

“Come on, love,” he says, helping you step in. The warmth engulfs you immediately, easing the tightness in your belly and the tension in your back.

“Better?” he asks, kneeling beside the tub, his hand slipping into the water to gently massage your leg.

“A little,” you admit, leaning back against the edge and closing your eyes as the heat works its magic.

Louis doesn’t leave your side for a second. He rests on the edge of the tub, his hand skimming soft, lazy patterns over your wet skin. He presses kisses to your shoulder, his lips lingering as though trying to will the pain away.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice warm and full of awe.

You open one eye, giving him a tired but wry smile. “I don’t feel very amazing right now.”

“Well, you are,” he insists, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your knee. “You’re carrying our little one, love. That’s nothing short of magic.”

The cramps begin to subside as the water soothes your body, and his tender care melts away the fear that had gripped you.

When the water starts to cool, Louis helps you out of the bath, wrapping you in a soft towel and guiding you back to bed. He dries you off with gentle precision, then helps you into one of his oversized shirts, which feels like a warm hug against your skin.

“Let’s get you comfy,” he murmurs, tucking you into bed and slipping in beside you. His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you close so you’re nestled against his chest.

His hand finds your belly again, and he begins to draw those lazy patterns once more, his touch soothing and grounding. He peppers kisses along your hairline and murmurs sweet reassurances into your ear.

“You’re doing so well, love,” he says softly. “I’ll be here every step of the way. You and me, yeah?”

Tears well up in your eyes at his tenderness. “You’re too good to me, Louis.”

“Not possible,” he replies, grinning as he presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

The combination of his warmth, the bath, and his calming presence lulls you into a much-needed sleep. Even as you drift off, you feel his hand on your belly, steady and protective, like an unspoken promise that no matter what, you’ll face it together.

…

A week later the clock strikes two in the morning when you’re jolted awake. The sharp pain in your lower abdomen pulls you from a restless sleep, and you sit up with a gasp, clutching your belly.

You try to breathe through it, thinking it’s just another Braxton Hicks contraction, but the pain intensifies quickly, coming in waves. The rhythm is different—this isn’t like anything you’ve felt before.

You glance over at Louis, who’s still sound asleep beside you. His peaceful expression gives way to your growing panic. You take a deep breath, trying to remain calm, but the contractions hit again, stronger this time.

“Louis,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

He doesn’t stir. You try again, louder. “Louis!”

This time, he bolts awake, eyes wide as he sees the panic in your face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

“I think… I think it’s happening,” you manage to say between breaths, gripping the edge of the bed as another contraction hits.

Louis’ eyes widen, and without missing a beat, he jumps out of bed, already grabbing his phone to call for help. “Alright, love, breathe. We’ve got this, okay? Just breathe.”

You nod, though it’s hard to focus with the waves of pain coursing through you. “Louis, it hurts,” you gasp, pressing your hands to your belly, but it doesn’t seem to help.

He comes back to the bed, kneeling in front of you. “I know it hurts, love. Just keep breathing with me, alright? Focus on my voice.” He places a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. “I’m right here. We’re going to get through this.”

You try to focus on him, on his soothing words, but it’s hard. The contractions are coming faster now, and you can’t seem to catch your breath.

“Louis,” you whimper, “I need to go to the hospital. It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

He looks at you with determination, his voice calm but firm. “It is, love. We’re heading there now. I’m gonna call everyone, okay? Just focus on me. You’re doing amazing.”

He helps you to your feet, steadying you as another contraction hits. You lean into him, your breath shaky as the pain pulses through you.

The next few minutes are a blur—Louis calling Niall, telling him to head to the hospital, getting you dressed, making sure everything is in the car, and keeping his eyes on you the entire time.

As he helps you out the door, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “We’re so close, love. You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.”

You try to smile, but another contraction grips you, and you bite your lip to keep from crying out.

“Just keep breathing, love,” Louis says, his voice low and comforting. “We’re almost there.”

The drive to the hospital feels like it takes forever. Louis keeps talking to you, his voice steady, telling you how amazing you’re doing. You focus on his voice, on his hand holding yours, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming pain.

By the time you arrive at the hospital, the contractions are constant, one after another, no more than a minute apart. You’re sweating, your face flushed, but Louis never lets go of your hand.

He’s right beside you as you’re checked in, his hand on the small of your back as he rubs soothing circles to calm you.

The nurses lead you to a delivery room, where everything starts to blur together. There’s the constant beeping of monitors, the bustling of the staff around you, and Louis’ voice, always in your ear, grounding you.

“You’re doing amazing, love,” Louis says again, bending down to kiss your forehead. “You’re so strong. I can see it.”

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as the pain increases, but you’re too focused on getting through it to cry. The room feels small, the air thick with tension, but there’s a sense of comfort in Louis’ presence.

After what feels like hours of agony, the doctor finally says it’s time.

“You’re doing great,” the doctor reassures, giving Louis a nod. “We’re just going to take it one step at a time. You’ve got this.”

Louis kisses your forehead once more, his hand holding yours tightly. “I love you, so much. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

With his words, you push through the pain, ready to meet the little one who’s been growing inside you for all these months.

As the contractions intensify, you grip Louis’ hand harder, feeling like your body is being torn apart with every wave of pain. The pressure is unbearable, but Louis is right there, steadying you with his calm presence. His hand is firm around yours, his voice never wavering as he speaks soothingly.

“You’re doing amazing, love. Just breathe. I’m right here, okay? You’ve got this,” he reassures you, his face a mixture of love and concern, his eyes locked on yours with unwavering intensity.

The pain is all-consuming, but you focus on Louis’ words, his warmth, his touch. Every breath feels like it takes everything you have, but you know you’re not alone. Then, just as the pressure becomes too much to bear, Niall bursts into the room, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

“You’re doing great!” he says, his voice full of encouragement as he comes to stand beside Louis. His presence offers a little relief, a welcome distraction from the pain.

Louis gives Niall a quick nod, but his focus never leaves you. “Just breathe, love. We’re almost there. You’ve got this.”

The next contraction hits hard, and you squeeze both their hands, digging your nails into their palms as the room spins with the intensity of it all. Louis whispers words of love and support in your ear, trying to ground you. But it’s so much, so overwhelming, the pain, the anticipation, the excitement.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe out, tears streaming down your face, your chest heaving with each breath.

“You are doing this,” Louis insists, his voice fierce with love. “We’re almost there. You’re about to meet our little boy.”

That one word—boy—takes your breath away, filling you with a new burst of strength. Your baby. Your son. The thought of holding him in your arms keeps you going.

With a cry of effort, you push through the next wave of contractions, your body straining against the pain. Louis is right beside you, his hand in yours, Niall standing next to him, both of them encouraging you through it.

“Just one more push, love,” Louis says, his voice barely a whisper, but it’s all you can hear. His forehead presses against yours, his hand stroking your hair, his words like a promise. “You’re so close. I’m so proud of you.”

Another contraction comes, and you push with everything you have left. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but the relief that comes afterward is indescribable. You feel the shift, the pressure releasing, and then you hear it.

The sound of your baby crying fills the room, and your heart stops for a moment. The tears well in your eyes as you look up at Louis. “We did it,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

Louis’s face is lit up with awe and love. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then looks down at you, his voice full of emotion. “We have a son, love. Our beautiful boy.”

The nurse gently places the tiny baby on your chest, and you can’t help but gasp as you look at his tiny face, his little hands. He’s perfect in every way.

Niall steps forward, his voice shaky with emotion. “He’s beautiful,” he says, his smile wide and full of joy. “Congrats, guys. He’s a little champion.”

Louis leans down, brushing his lips against your temple, his hand resting softly on the small of your back. “I love you both so much,” he whispers. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

You look down at your baby, tears streaming down your face as you hold him close. Louis is beside you, his hand in yours, and you both gaze down at your son, a love more overwhelming than you ever thought possible swelling in your chest. This is your family now. And in this moment, you couldn’t be happier.

…

A little while later, the door to the room opens gently, and one by one, the rest of the boys filter in, their faces lighting up as they take in the sight before them. You and Louis are lying together, exhausted but content, with your tiny son nestled between you. He’s already asleep, his little hands curled into tiny fists, his face serene and perfect.

Harry is the first to speak, his voice soft and full of wonder. “Mate,” he says, his eyes glistening with emotion, “he’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Zayn steps forward, his usual calm demeanor giving way to pure awe. “He looks just like you, Louis,” he murmurs, a gentle smile on his lips as he leans closer to get a better look at the baby. “This is incredible.”

Liam looks at you both with pride in his eyes, a grin spreading across his face. “Congratulations, you two. He’s going to be so loved. He’s got an amazing family.”

Niall stands just a little behind the others, his eyes wide with excitement. “I can’t believe it,” he says, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “You guys are parents. This little guy’s going to be spoiled with love from all of us.”

Louis, still beaming, glances over at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “It’s the first One Direction baby,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s going to be loved by all of us—by his uncles, his mum, his dad.” His voice breaks for a moment, and he looks down at his son, shaking his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe he’s here.”

“You’re going to be an amazing dad, Louis,” Harry says with a grin, giving him a playful nudge. “And you, too,” he adds, turning to you. “You’re gonna be the best mum ever.”

The boys gather around the bed, their attention completely captivated by the tiny little life you and Louis created. There’s a lightness in the room now, a quiet joy as they all take turns peeking at the baby, their voices filled with excitement, pride, and the unspoken bond they all share with him already.

“You’ve all got to teach him all the good stuff,” Niall says, his eyes twinkling. “Like how to play guitar, of course.”

“And all the best football teams,” Zayn adds, winking at Louis. “We’ve got to teach him everything we know.”

Louis chuckles softly, his gaze never leaving his son. “He’s going to grow up surrounded by love. I can already tell he’s going to have all the best role models.”

Liam places a hand on Louis’ shoulder, his expression sincere. “He’s going to be one lucky kid, with all of you around him.”

You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling as you realize just how much love is in the room for your baby. Your son. Your beautiful boy is already surrounded by a family who will protect him, guide him, and love him with everything they have.

And in this moment, you know that your little one is going to grow up with a support system unlike any other, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Louis kisses your forehead, his hand resting on the back of your head, pulling you gently against him. “We did good, didn’t we?” he murmurs. You nod, feeling every ounce of joy and love in your heart. You did good. Together, you made something incredible. And as the boys laugh and chat around you, you know this is just the beginning of an incredible journey for your family.

…

Author’s note: I hope you guys enjoyed this mini series!

#louis tomlinson x pregnant reader #louis tomlinson x y/n #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson x you #louis tomlinson fanfiction #one direction fan fiction

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vintageshanny · 1 day ago

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Christmas Kisses - Part 2 - Start the New Year Off Right

Content: Takes place in December of 1976 and mentions Elvis’ loneliness at that time. A little bit of angst, some smut, and a lot of fluff. This is basically my Christmas gift to Elvis, telling him how wonderful he is. ❤️ 18+

Read part one here: Christmas Kisses

Josephine gave herself one last look in the mirror as she heard a pounding at the door.

“Coming!” she called out as she grabbed her purse and keys. A man with brown hair graying around the temples opened the door. He didn’t even bother to introduce himself but just gave her a slight nod and motioned for her to follow.

The man finally spoke when they turned onto Elvis Presley Boulevard. “So how’d you and the boss meet?” Josephine detected a hint of something in his tone...animosity maybe?

“Oh, well, we, uh, we both just happened to be looking for company on Christmas Eve.” Josephine tried to select her words carefully but realized she had made herself sound like a hooker. “I mean, not company like that, but um, just someone to talk to.” She could feel herself turning red as the man beside her chuckled. “He’s just a very nice man,” she finished with a whisper.

“Hmm. He can be,” the man muttered, almost to himself, as they pulled up the drive to Graceland.

Josephine got out and steadied herself on the rhinestone heels she had picked out to wear. Elvis had called her just once since last week, to confirm that she still wanted to come to his party. He gave no indication of how fancy it was going to be, and she was too nervous to ask. They’d had such a great connection in person, but on the phone he almost sounded like he was embarrassed that he’d let himself get so vulnerable. She decided it would be better to be dressed up than to be looking too casual at a fancy party.

Elvis nervously paced the living room, trying to be attentive to his friends and their families as his mind drifted to Josephine. She would be here any minute, and he felt strangely nervous. After she’d went back home on Christmas, he had replayed their conversation in his head, wondering what on God’s green Earth had possessed him to open up so much to a woman he’d just met. Some of the things he’d shared had been downright embarrassing. She must think he’s a complete fool, asking if it’s okay that he couldn’t get it up all the time.

Josephine walked through the doorway and instantly spotted Elvis, dressed in a light blue suit. Their eyes locked and she saw his jaw go a little slack as he approached her.

“I’m sorry, I might be a little overdressed. I wasn’t sure what to wear,” Joesphine murmured as he grabbed her hand and looked her up and down, his eyes sparkling with delight at her curve-hugging black sequined jumpsuit.

“Naw honey, ya look perfect, jus’ beautiful,” he murmured as he pulled her in for a hug. “I mean, wow,” he exclaimed as he pulled back and looked again.

“Now you’re gonna make me blush,” Josephine smiled. “You look pretty ‘wow’ yourself,” she added, her eyes roaming over his physique.

Elvis just laughed a little and looked nervously at the ground, not sure if she was just being nice.

He pulled her into the living room and started introducing her to his friends, his hand gently caressing the small of her back. His hands pretty much stayed on her all evening, wrapped around her waist, rubbing her shoulder, playfully pinching her side. Josephine reveled in the affection after such a dry spell.

“So,” Elvis whispered in her ear as they sat snuggled up on the couch together. “Are ya gonna give me a kiss at midnight?”

Feeling somewhat emboldened by the tender look in his eyes, Josephine leaned over close and whispered back. “I’ll give you anything you want at midnight.” She let her hand squeeze his thigh ever so slightly, and she could hear his breath hitch in response.

Elvis looked into Josephine’s eyes, his heart racing a little bit at what she’d whispered. He usually felt a little apprehensive about a woman being so forward, but he could see the tenderness in her eyes, and he knew this offer was from her heart. He wanted to kiss her so badly right here on this couch, company be damned, but he knew that if he got aroused, the opportunity to take advantage of it might be limited.

“Honey,” Elvis said lowly, glancing around to make sure everyone was preoccupied with their own conversations, “can I-I-I, uh, show ya somethin’ upstairs?”

“Absolutely,” Josephine responded, nerves and excitement making her body tingle. Elvis grabbed her hand and led her through the kitchen and up the back staircase as discreetly as possible.

“What did you want to show me?” Josephine asked with an innocent smile as Elvis locked the door to his bedroom behind them.

“Honey I jus’ needed ta do this without all them nosy sets of eyes watchin.’” Elvis grabbed her waist and pulled her in close to him, his soft lips crashing into hers. He took his time kissing her, his hands rubbing her back. He reached down and gave her ample bottom a squeeze as his tongue slipped into her mouth. “Can I see more of ya, baby?” Elvis murmured as he reached for the zipper on the back of her jumpsuit.

“Mmm-hmm,” Josephine tingled with anticipation as he slowly pulled the zipper down. She leaned slightly forward and let the jumpsuit slip down, the fabric pooling around her ankles. She carefully stepped out of it, now standing before him in just her heels and a pale pink bra and panties.

“Goddamn,” Elvis breathed out as he took in the sight of her. He reached out and squeezed one of her breasts, seeing the way her nipple hardened through the thin fabric. He let his hand trail down her stomach, his fingertips brushing over the waistband of her panties, sliding down over the silky material and settling in between her thighs, feeling the warmth and dampness that awaited him there. With his other hand, he pulled down each bra strap, one at a time, letting the material fall and expose her soft, round breasts to him, both nipples now begging to be licked.

“Ohhhhh,” Josephine let out a guttural moan as Elvis leaned down and caught one of her nipples in between his teeth, tugging ever so gently. As he sucked on her, his hand down below slipped inside of her panties and continued its rubbing there. His fingers explored every part, tracing through her little mound of hair, rubbing her soft lips, sliding through the wetness, pushing gently inside of her. As Elvis switched his mouth to her other nipple, Josephine continued to let out soft moans, unable to control herself.

“Ya like that baby?” Elvis asked in a low gravelly voice, his lips tracing up over her collarbone and attaching to her neck. His fingers continued their intricate dance inside of her panties.

“Oh God, yes,” Josephine groaned, her eyes fluttering down to see that he seemed to be enjoying it very much as well. She reached out and started to unbuckle his pants. She noticed that he tensed up ever so slightly, but he let her continue, removing his hand from her panties so he could help undress himself.

As he slid his pants off and removed his jacket and shirt, Josephine felt her heart racing at the sight of his body, that broad hairy chest now on full display. She couldn’t help but notice that he looked a little bit shy standing before her in just his white briefs, and she wondered if he knew how sexy he was.

“Elvis,” she whispered, stepping forward, letting her hand run down his chest and over his stomach. She grabbed his hand put it back inside her panties, missing the feeling of him touching her. “It feels so good to have your hands on me.”

Elvis smiled that cute little crooked grin and let his fingers play with her again. “Is that right, baby? What else do ya think would feel good?”

Josephine could see from the bulge in his underwear that he still seemed to be enjoying himself, so she decided to encourage him. She reached out and pulled on the waistband of his underwear, peeking down at his thick hard dick that looked like it was aching to be set free. It looked so good. “I would love to feel this inside of me,” she whispered, barely able to think straight from the feeling of his fingers massaging her most intimate parts.

“I would love that too, honey.” Elvis slid her panties down her legs and helped her onto the bed, leaning her back against the pillows. He slipped off his own underwear, letting himself spring free, and laid between her legs. “Lemme jus’ make sure you’re good and ready for me first.” He really needed to make sure that he was good and ready, but she didn’t need to know all that.

As he lapped at her soft folds with his tongue, he could feel his dick growing harder and harder until he knew it was now or never. He quickly pulled himself up and lined up with her soaking wet entrance, sliding in, feeling the way her opening gripped him so tightly. A couple of pumps and he’d probably be done for. Lucky for him, it seemed like she was almost ready, too.

“Ohhh, God, Elvis!” Josephine wailed out as he pushed all the way inside of her, beads of sweat forming at the gray hair on his temples. “Oh, that feels so good,” she whimpered, feeling him thrust in and out. He knew he was about to explode and needed to make sure she was satisfied. He reached down and rubbed her little nub as he continued thrusting, and it sent her over the edge. As she moaned his name and clenched around him, her legs shaking, he thrust one last time, feeling himself cum deep inside of her.

Josephine loved the feeling as he lowered his body onto hers, pinning her against the mattress, his softening dick still inside of her. As they lay there in a state of bliss, the clock struck midnight.

“Baby, where’s my midnight kiss?” Elvis laughed as he lifted his head and planted one on her.

“I think I gave you a lot better than just a kiss,” Josephine giggled, hugging his body tightly against her own. She didn’t want him to leave her ever.

“Ya sure did, honey. Hmm, I don’ think I’ve ever been inside of someone at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Gotta start the year off right, I s’pose.”

“Do you think they’re wondering where we are?” Josephine asked as Elvis finally slid out of her and rolled to the edge of the bed, pulling his underwear back on.

“Nah, they probably jus’ figure the old man has gone to bed early,” Elvis said in that self-deprecating way.

“Elvis, you’re not old!” Josephine insisted.

“I don’ know, baby, I think ya jus’ bring somethin’ outta me. I’ll tell ya honey, I ain’t been this aroused in a long time.”

“Well, I hope you know that even if you hadn’t been so, um, aroused, I still would’ve had a great time with you.” Josephine moved over behind him and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head on the back of his shoulder.

Elvis turned and kissed the top of her head. “That’s sweet of ya, honey. I gotta use the bathroom. There’s some pajamas in the drawer there if ya wanna wear some.” He nodded toward the dresser and headed for the bathroom.

As Josephine pulled herself up and slipped into a navy blue nightshirt, realizing for the first time that he was expecting her to spend the night, she noticed a partially crumpled piece of paper on the floor next to the garbage can. She picked it up to throw it away, but a couple words jumped out at her. She smoothed the paper out and her heart sank into her stomach as she read the note that was written.

“Help me Lord to get through all of this. I am so tired of it. I think I would like to sleep forever but rest does not come easy for me. Show me a way out from these problems.”

Just as she was about to put the note back, Elvis emerged from the bathroom in his robe and saw it in her hand. She could see the immediate flush of anger spread over his face.

“What the hell do ya think you’re doin’? Pickin’ through my garbage? Ya gonna sell that to the press like those damn vultures who used ta call themselves my friends?”

Josephine tried to keep her voice calm as she responded to his rage. “Elvis, I’m sorry. I found it on the floor, and -”

“Like hell!” Elvis continued to explode with anger. “Why don’t ya jus’ get the hell outta my house! Come over here and seduce me jus’ ta betray me like this!”

“Elvis, I’m not going to leave with you this upset. I need to make sure you’re okay. You can keep yelling, but I’m going to stay here with you.”

The fire still burned in Elvis’ eyes. He picked up the only thing that was within reach, a book, and flung it against the wall. Then he turned and headed back in the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Josephine sighed and sat down next to the bathroom door, her back leaned against the wall. “Elvis, can you hear me?” No response. “Elvis, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to pry. It was an honest mistake.” At this she heard a low grunt, but no movement to come back out. “Look, I don’t know if you’re just mad or if you’re embarrassed or feeling vulnerable, but I want you to know that I understand. To be honest, I’ve said a lot of prayers that sound just like this. Life is hard sometimes, y’know? And I can’t even imagine the kind of pressure you must face.” The lock turned and the door opened. Elvis shuffled back out and sat on the edge of the bed, looking a little sheepish at his angry outburst.

“I’m sorry I screamed at ya honey, I know ya weren’t tryin’ ta snoop.”

“Elvis, you don’t have to hide from me. I want to be here for you.”

“I’m supposed to be the strong one. I have to take care of everyone, I don’t know any other way.” Elvis’ head dropped down, and it broke Josephine’s heart to see him look so defeated.

“It’s okay to let someone take care of you sometimes, too. You don’t deserve to have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Let me take care of you,” Josephine implored, rising and joining him on the bed.

“Honey, I think you’re real sweet, but ya don’t know what you’re gettin’ into. I mean, I’d love ta see ya some more, but I can’t ask ya ta take care of me.”

Josephine reached over and grabbed Elvis’ face, turning it toward her own. “Elvis, look, we don’t have to talk about a future together this early. But I see how strong you are, how brave you are, and how tired you look. You said yourself, ‘start the new year off right.’ Let me take care of you tonight. At least this once. Let your guard down and just let me love you.”

“What are ya gonna do?” Elvis asked, trying to blink back the tears that had formed at her kind words.

“I’m going to give you a nice bath, tuck you into bed, and just hold you in my arms. Can we do that?”

Elvis nodded and let her lead him back into the bathroom. He sat on his chair and watched as she drew the bath, testing the water temperature with her wrist. She helped him up from the chair and untied his robe, slipping it off of his shoulders. She could see him blush a little bit as she slid his underwear down his legs, but he didn’t resist. She tried not to stare at his soft chubby penis dangling between his legs as she helped him into the bath, but she must have been unsuccessful.

Elvis smiled a little bit as he asked, “Why are ya blushin’, honey? I’m the one who’s standin’ here naked as the day I was born.”

“I’m sorry,” Josephine whispered, feeling the blush grow deeper. “I just want you to relax and be taken care of, but you have a very sexy body. It’s hard not to notice it.”

The smile spread across Elvis’ face as he lowered himself into the water. “You’re a real sweetheart, honey.” He lay back against the tub as Josephine found some soap and a washcloth and got to work. She gently scrubbed every part of his body – his chest, his back, his pubic area, even in between his toes. “That all feels real nice, honey.”

“I told you, it’s okay to just relax and let someone take care of you sometimes.” She swallowed nervously before continuing. “About the note I found, I know it’s personal, but please know you can always talk to me. Okay?”

Elvis just nodded but didn’t say anything more about it.

Josephine helped him out of the bath and grabbed a clean towel to dry him with. She started with his shoulders and worked her way down, kneeling to get everything from the waist down. As she gingerly dried his private area, he looked down and smiled.

“Are ya lookin’ at my sexy body again?”

Josephine laughed and nodded. “Well, there’s a big hunk of sexiness in front of my face right now.”

Elvis chuckled at that description. “Hmm, I’ve never thought of him as bein’ particularly sexy lookin.’”

“Are you crazy?” Josephine asked, looking up in surprise. “He, I mean it,” she laughed, “is very sexy.” To drive home her point, she leaned in and gave a soft kiss to his velvety smooth foreskin.

“Ooh,” Elvis responded as a little shiver went through him. “Gonna be hard ta relax if you’re doin’ stuff like that, honey.”

“Sorry, I just had to have a little taste,” Josephine smiled.

“Maybe ya can have another taste later,” Elvis teased.

Josephine led him over to the dresser and helped him into a pair of pajamas.

“I jus’ need my medicine,” Elvis said, swallowing some pills with some water before laying down on the bed.

Josephine laid down next to him, snuggling up against his chest and letting her arm wrap around his stomach, her fingertips gently massaging him.

“Baby?” Elvis asked, his words starting to slur from exhaustion.

“Yes, Elvis?”

“Thanks for not leavin’ me,” he whispered, his eyelids drooping shut. “Thanks for takin’ care of me.”

“Of course,” she responded, holding him close as he drifted off to sleep. “I love you.”

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a

#Elvis #elvis fan fic #Elvis fan fiction #Elvis smut #Elvis x oc #Christmas fic #new years fic #i love this man

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