#were they having to put the book down for a second to squeal about exciting things happening?

[true-bluesargent]

literally kicking my feet and giggling over pride and prejudice like i am from the 1800s

[righoul]

【Ｍｉｄｎｉｇｈｔ　Ｗｈｉｓｐｅｒｓ】

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

summary: it's your best friend's birthday, and she wants to go out to the club. you're not much of a party girl, but you do it anyways because you love her like a sister. it's a good thing you went, especially if it's a certain someone who can't keep his eyes off of you 😉

this kinda takes place in x-men origins: wolverine. that movie will always have a special place in my heart idc. also, I had a dream about this last night

warning: SMUT! 18+ MDNI. age gap, oral sex (f! receiving), cursing, unprotected PiV (don't be silly, wrap that willy), drinking, dirty talk, logan being kinda vocal, wingman!wade wilson, size difference, mention of anxiety (because mental health matters), praise kink, nicknames used: baby, darling, sweetheart, princess

words: 4.0k

Your best friend practically drags you through the mall as she makes a beeline to the dress store. What's the occasion, you may ask? It's her birthday today and she wants to go to a party at a club. You dread it, but if she is happy, you'll let down your antisocial wall. She's been begging on her hands and knees for you to come out and live your life. You hate crowded places, and you would much rather be in the comfort of your own home, in your sweatpants and tank top with a cozy cardigan and your hair in a messy bun while reading another Johanna Lindsey book. Is it cliché? Yes. Is it almost predictable? Fuck yes, but you love it anyways. You may call yourself a hopeless romantic, but your friend is right. You need to get laid ASAP. 

While you were mindlessly going through all the various dresses on the clothes rack, your friend pulled you away as she already made some selections for you. "Come on, try these on!" she exclaims. Some of them are not bad, but others are just damn right ugly or not your style. As you are about to enter the changing room, you hear the one voice that could only mean one thing. Your best friend’s boyfriend. “Oh, sweetie pie!” Wade announces in a singsong tune. Oh, great. You don’t necessarily hate Wade, he treats your best friend well and she’s taken well care of, sure, but this day was supposed to be just the two of you. 

“Hi, baby!” she squeals as Wade comes up to her and gives her a big old kiss in the mouth. Hey, God, it’s me again, you thought as you looked up at the ceiling. You close your eyes for just a few seconds to gather yourself and you look at the handsome pair. “Hey, Wade, it’s good to see you again.” You struggle to put the words together, but nonetheless, you put on a fake smile just to keep your friend happy. “It’s good to see you too,” he pulls you into a tight bear hug, cutting off your blood flow. “Oh, sorry, I’m just so excited to be here. I can’t miss out on this special day with my special girl.” He’s like a lovesick puppy. There was just something about Wade that made you be suspicious about him from the very beginning. He’s always gone, he doesn’t tell you or your bestie where he is or what he does. There was something off about him. Almost as if he’s living a double life. “Oh, honey!” your friend squeals again, giving him another open mouth kiss. Gross. 

“Well, while you guys catch up, I’m going to go ahead and try these on.” You mumble as you hold up a pile of dresses in your arms. Off to the dressing room, you go. 

The first dress you try on was a shiny, metallic gold halter top dress that stops at the mid thighs. On the front, it gives a deep V-neckline, making it hard to cover your breasts. It has slits on both sides, stopping at the waist and it is backless, curving at the bottom and stopping at the top of your ass. Sure, it was cute, if you were planning on being a stripper. You try on the next dress. Now, this one was cute, and you thought about saying yes to it just to get this over with. But you thought about it for a second longer and realized you’re going to be dying in it. It was black mesh sequin dress that barely covers your ass, and it had flare sleeves that are see-through. Last thing you want is to have sweaty armpits, causing the dress to have pit stains for the rest of the night. No, thanks. Next one. Too girly. Another one. Makes you look pale. The one after that. Cute, but not ideal for clubbing. Another one. This looks more like a prom dress than anything. You’re about to give up until you notice the last dress. You try it on, and lo and behold, this dress was the one. It is a dark green sequin mini dress that stops at mid-thigh with a sweetheart neckline with an adjustable skinny strap. Perfect.

You change back into your normal clothes, not even bothering to show it off to your best friend. Besides, she’s too busy with her boyfriend, practically eating each other’s faces. You made your way to the cash register, and you made your purchase. You thank them and make your way back to your friend and Wade, hopefully she got the hint that it was time to go. “Oh, you got a dress?” your friend asks. “Which one did you end up picking?” “You’ll see.” You reply mischievously with a little wink. She’s surprised about your remark, but she quickly brushes it off. Little did you know, while you were trying on all the dresses she picked out, her and Wade were conjuring up a plan. Wade was telling his girlfriend about his friend that he can set up with you. Well, he’s not exactly a friend, per se, but a fellow acquaintance of his. They work together, sure, but he’s kind of a grump. Now there’s just one problem. Wade hasn’t even talked to him about hooking up with you. Now that is going to be the tricky part. 

“You think you can bring your friend along?” your friend asked. “Oh yeah, he’ll come.” Wade responded. Your friend was constantly looking over in your direction while you were in the changing room, hoping to not get caught by you. “What if this plan fails?” “Baby, it’ll work.” Wade puts his hands on her shoulders, soothing her. “I’ll make sure to see to it. Besides, he’s not a bad guy. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges, but it’ll be good for him. For both of them.” Your friend lets out a deep sigh. “Okay. I trust you. But if this plan doesn’t work, you owe me big time.” She jammed her pointer finger at his chest harshly and Wade laughed, but he knew deep down inside, she scares him and that’s what he loves about her. She keeps him grounded, and he always makes sure to fulfill his promises.

*Later that night*

You put on your brand new dress that you bought and you put on a pair of black high heels to go along with it. Meanwhile, your friend put on a baby pink dress with puffy sleeves and white heels that wrap around the calves. She put on some subtle makeup while you put on a smoky appearance. Her hair was done in loose curls in a half low ponytail with a white bow and your hair was done straight as a pencil. When you walked out of your bedroom, your friend was surprised to say the least. She claimed that you look like a totally different person, but you brushed it off. You didn’t think she was being serious and you assumed she was just being nice because you both knew this isn’t like at all. But, she was right. You did look amazing.

You and your friend got there at the club, scanning to find Wade. You thought it was kind of weird that he didn’t pick you guys up at your place, but you dropped it pretty quick. You guys grabbed your drinks from the bar and went out to the dance floor. You were honestly having a good time. You felt so free. So liberating. Normally, you would feel anxious in large crowds like tonight, but with the help of some liquid courage, that all subsided. Wade finally came down to the dance floor and greeted your best friend with a kiss on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, baby!” Wade shouted over the loud bass of the music.

“Thank you!” your friend shouted back.

“Thanks for stopping by!”

“Yeah, of course, Y/N! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

As you were about to throw back on your drink, your cup was empty.

“Hey! I’m about to get myself a round two! Did you want anything?” you asked your friend.

“I’m still working on mine! But, thank you!”

“I’ll be back!”

You sauntered your way back to the bar again and asked for the bartender.

“Rum and Coke, please.” you ordered your drink to the tall man behind the bar.

“You got it, miss.” he winked at you.

You felt flatter for the gesture, but you knew deep down you wouldn’t pursue it. Ever since you guys walked into this place, you had men staring at you nonstop. You felt like an innocent fawn in a den full of lions, greedily licking their lips and wanting to get a piece of meat out of you. All the barstools were taken up by men, and now that there was a pretty woman in their proximity, they all of a sudden didn’t know how to think with their heads, but with their dicks. All eyes were on you tonight. The anxiety was about to creep up to your throat to the point it felt hard to breathe. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. You should’ve stayed at home.

“That would be $5.50, miss.” the bartender smiles.

You were about to reach for your bag when you felt a large hand on your lower back. You looked over who it was, but looking over at the man to your right knocked the wind out of you. He was ruggedly handsome. He has dark brown hair that was done messily with mutton chops to go along with his fluffy hair. He wore dark blue jeans with a belt to hold it up to his hips, a pair of boots, a white wife beater, flannel, and a dark brown leather jacket to complete his bad boy exterior. 

“I got it, darlin’,” the stranger looked at you, smugly. “don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You were just stunned, you didn’t know what to say. This man was so dangerously handsome, you’ll do anything to keep this man’s attention on you. But, remember what your friend taught you. Never chase after a man. If he wants you that badly, walk him like a dog. And you intend to do that.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” the man bent over to your right ear and said with his cockiness, “use your words.”

Shit, shit, shit. So much for taking the reign.

“Oh, um.. thank you.” you replied sweetly.

“Attagirl.” 

Oh, so he wants to play that game. Well jokes on him, you can play along too. You have read so many scenarios where this plays out, it’s time to use that playbook. There was a spot that was available and the handsome fellow sat down, but still maintaining that contact with you.

“What’s your name, darlin’?”

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“The name’s Logan.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You didn’t know if it was the drink or you feeling bold, but you made your way to Logan and sat on his lap. His eyes widen and his jaw a little slacked, but quickly bounces back to his usual smug face before you could appreciate your small little victory. Your legs were across his laps and you kept your legs crossed on top of the other, giving Logan an aweing view of your scrumptious thighs. He had one hand placed on the small of your back, dangerously close to your ass and the other hand was resting outside your knee, rubbing small circles with his thumbs,

You guys have been talking and flirting for about 30 minutes, and everything was going so smoothly for tonight. There was a small part of you that didn’t want this night to end, but there was that sinking feeling that you felt that this was going to be a one time experience and you’ll never see him again. Your hand was resting at the nape of his neck, giving him light scratches. Logan let out some low purrs. He loves the way that you’re giving him all this attention from a pretty thing like yourself. But he had this gnawing feeling that he shouldn’t do this to you. You were so young and naive, you never really got to experience life to the fullest. He promised a friend that he was going to hook up with a girl that he knew, get acquainted and maybe get something more out of it. Possibly a relationship. But Logan knows that never comes easily with him. Everyone that he ever loved dies in the end. You were just so sweet and innocent. He couldn’t put you through that. 

“Say, wanna get out of here?” Logan asked.

At first, you were hesitant. Wasn’t this what you wanted? I mean, yes. Look at him. This man is built like a god. You didn’t want to ditch your friend on her birthday to go sleep with some guy. But then again, you’ve been gone for a while and she didn’t seem to notice you. So, fuck it. 

“Yeah, sure.” you replied.

You got off his lap and Logan got off his seat, and he walked you out of the busting night club. You both decided to go to your apartment where you were most comfortable. Logan didn’t seem to mind. It was probably for the best since your apartment is probably nicer than his and he wanted to make sure that you were comfortable. A gentleman, I know. You fished for your keys in your purse and let yourselves in. 

“Please, make yourself at home.” you exclaimed. “Can I get you something?”

“You got any beer?” Logan asked.

“I got Budweiser. Is that okay?”

Logan would’ve died on the spot. It’s almost as if you were made for him. Like he drew a mental picture of you and manifested it. 

“Now we’re talking.”

You giggled at his response and went to the fridge to grab two bottles. If Logan almost died from you knowing his favorite beer, he would’ve melted from your lovely laugh. You truly were made from him.

You both settled on the couch and facing each other, you both went back to talking from the last conversation at the bar. Logan, resting his arm behind the couch while nesting a bottle while you were curled up, tucking your feet behind you and resting a hand on your chin, honing in everything and digesting every word that comes out of his mouth. 

“So, what was a pretty thing like yourself at a bar?” Logan asked.

“Oh, the funny thing is it’s my friend’s birthday and we were out celebrating.” I chuckled softly. “I guess she’s still there with her boyfriend so I don’t feel too guilty.”

Logan chuckled roughly. “Ah man, I’m sorry to drag you away.”

I waved my hand at him nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal, really.”

After chatting again for about 15 minutes, you noticed that Logan is sitting closer and closer to you. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe because of how handsome he is. His lips were so close to yours, you could almost taste him. You caught him stealing a few glances down your chest, mentally undressing you, but you don’t seem to mind.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful tonight.” Logan whispered huskily.

You automatically placed your hand on his chest, chests basically touching.

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” I whispered seductively. “Mind taking me out of this dress?”

Logan’s heart stopped for a moment when you asked him so bluntly. Of course, he wasn’t going to pass this opportunity. So he reached behind you and unzipped your dress. He gently laid you back on the couch as you moved to take off his flannel shirt. He slowly pulled your straps down one by one, as he was taking his sweet time with you, trying to memorize every little thing about your body. Logan finally slipped your dress off of you and the only thing standing in his way is your black lace thong.

“Fuck.” Logan shuddered a groan.

You tried to cover yourself, but Logan took one of his hands and pinned both your wrists above your head.

“Don’t get all shy now with me.” Logan growled. “I wanna see it all.

I whimpered at his rough exterior and wrapped your legs around his waist. He purred in approval.

“Logan…” You moaned. “Let me touch you.”

Logan chuckled darkly as you begged and whined while you’re getting super soaked in your panties, it was leaving wet spots in his pants. He pressed his hard on your heated, needy pussy. You whimpered at the contact, arching your back, hoping to feel him.

“Ahh, pretty baby wants to touch me?” Logan teased.

You nodded your head and he laughed. He leaned down and started sucking your neck, leaving hickeys and love bites at its wake. You begin to moan, and he chuckles darkly as he’s leaving kisses down between your breasts. Logan sat up straight to remove his shirt and undo his belt. He slipped his pants and boxers down, and went down to come face to face to your pussy. He left a little kiss on your clothed pussy and you whimpered while arching your back so far, it almost didn’t look natural. He chuckled how reactive you are to him and he’s enjoying every bit of it. He went to pick you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He placed his hands on your ass, and leaned in for a kiss. You kissed him back happily as you took his face with your hands and you both moaned, fighting for dominance.

“Where’s your room, sweetheart?” Logan asked.

“First door on the right.” You moaned in his mouth.

He then leads you both to your room, still kissing you. As you both entered, he placed you on the bed as he crawled down on you. He forgot you still had your underwear on, so he ripped it off of your body. You gasped, not from ruining it but at how he ripped it off with ease.

“Sorry, princess. It was getting in the way.” Logan muttered and then he quickly went down to eat you out. You arched your back as you gripped the bed sheets. He placed his hand down on your lower stomach to hold you down. “Don’t move.” He growled as he looked up at you.

You fought your hardest to remain still. Logan went back to eat your pussy like a starved man, and you moved your fist to your mouth, biting back some moans. “Nah uh, I wanna hear you. I want this whole apartment to hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel.” Logan said roughly. You nodded your head as he went back to devouring his desert. You moaned loudly, it almost sounded pornographic and he chuckled darkly. “That’s it, darlin’. Attagirl.” He praised you. “Logan, I’m so..” You said sultry. “Go ahead. Come for me.” At demand, you did and you were starting to see white after this euphoric sensation and you were starting to come down from your high.

“On your hands and knees.” Logan demanded. You did as you were told and he purred at how easy you were to please. He’ll keep this in mind. He climbed behind you as he gripped your ass close to his hardened dick. He slowly smoothed your backside with one hand and he bent down to your ear, his cold dog tags touching your bare back, making you shiver. “Let me know if it gets too rough for ya.” Logan whispered sweetly. All you could do was nod your head. “I need words, sweetheart.” “Yes. Yes, I’ll let you know if it gets too much.” Logan smirked. “Attagirl.”

Logan then eased the tip of his cock into your heated entrance, and began to gasp heavily. “Oh, fuck.” You moaned and Logan chuckled. “Easy, princess, just breathe.” He slowly went inch by inch, feeling his length and his girth. It then becomes easy for you, going from painful to pleasure. Going from losing your breath to moaning into a hot mess. Logan began to pull back and slammed it back in. You jumped forward at the brutal force and you moaned in…pleasure? Pain? Honestly, who cares? It feels too good to stop. He kept pounding into you, starting to hit your cervix over and over again.

“Fuuuucck.” Logan growled as he looked up into the ceiling for a hot minute. He went to look back down as the relentless pounding is matching the rhythm to your ass bouncing back to his cock, making wet slapping noises. “You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You giggled at his comment as you turned your head at an angle to get a good look at him. Logan bent down again to kiss you on the lips, moaning into each other’s mouths.

Logan then flipped you on your back and his pounding into you again as you wrapped his legs around his waist. He went to intertwined his fingers into yours and he looked into your eyes. “Don’t close your eyes. I wanna see you come undone.” Logan warned. You nodded your head and said, “I won’t.” Logan nodded his head in approval. “Baby, I’m so close.” You moaned. “I know, I know. I’m right behind you.” You then reached your second climax of the night and you were spent. Logan’s hips started to stutter as he made a few good thrusts into you. “Where at?” Logan asked. “Inside. Safe.” You gasped between breaths, finding it hard to find the words. Logan nodded as he made one last thrust before he went still, painting your insides white.

Logan collapsed beside you and he pulled you into a lover’s embrace as you passed out. He kissed the top of your head as he whispered before you were completely out, “You did so good for me, baby. My perfect girl.”

The next morning, you stirred awake as you stretched your arms above your head. You looked out to your window and then you looked over to your right side of the bed, noticing that it was empty. Your heart sank to your chest. You were disappointed, but not surprised. Wishful thinking, you thought. You got out of bed and put on a fresh pair of panties and a short, silky bathrobe. You made your way to the kitchen and then you noticed a tan bare back with dark fluffy hair. He’s wearing his jeans low on his hips with no belt on. He’s cooking eggs and bacon on the stovetop. Logan turned around, took notice of your morning attire and he’s breath was taken away.

“Good morning, princess.” Logan said in his deep morning voice.

“Good morning.” You sighed happily. You went over to him and he grabbed you by the waist, making you gasp out loud. He leaned in for a kiss and you happily kissed him back.

“Oh, good!” Wade announced himself in the kitchen. “I see you met Y/N. The one that I mentioned to you before.”

Surprisingly, Logan didn’t growl at him. He stopped kissing you as you looked at Wade with a slack jaw like a fish in a hook. He went back to look down at you, and smiled, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you can say we got to know each other very well.” Logan winked at you after your “acquaintance” last night. You playfully slapped at his bare chest and he laughed.

“Next time if you guys are going to fuck, can you at least keep it down?” Wade whined. “It’s like coming across the Animal Channel.”

I picked up a towel and threw it at him. “Fuck off, will you, Wade?” Logan laughed as Wade scurried away. Logan wrapped his arms around my waist, palming my ass. “Hmmm. And here I thought I was gonna regret meeting you. But, Wade never described you. I guess I got lucky.” I leaned up to kiss him on the lips and he happily kissed me back. “To be honest, I didn’t know about any of this. I’m glad that I stumbled upon you.” Logan smirked at me. “Come on, before breakfast gets cold.”

[demonpiratehuntress]

baby (name)! (Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Brook, Chopper)

featuring - Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader, Buggy x F!Reader, Shanks x F!Reader, Brook x F!Reader, Chopper x F!Reader

summary - you somehow get turned into a baby and they have to spend 24 hours babysitting you

warnings - my first time writing for ALL of these characters, so i'm sorry if i get their characters wrong! im only 416 episodes into the anime. i tried my best!

a/n - this was requested by @faioula16, i hope you like it!

MIHAWK

This could honestly go either way. This guy is unpredictable and even you never know what his next move will be. But you're his faithful and loving girlfriend, so there are some exceptions when it comes to you. Like when some deranged devil fruit user turns you into a baby, and Mihawk could have had someone else take care of you, but he wanted to do it himself. He was curious, now that it was you who was an infant.

But that may also be because a witness to the scene had expressed fear for infant you, saying that Mihawk was too cold and ruthless to take care of a baby. He didn't need to prove otherwise, and he didn't want to, but something just gnawed at him. Protectiveness, maybe. You were in such a vulnerable state right now, only he could protect you and care for you.

It had absolutely nothing to do at all with the fact that you looked so adorable staring at him with your big (eye colour) eyes, reaching out to tap his because the strange colour fascinated you. No, it had nothing to do with how cute your excited squeal was every time he picked you up or looked at you. He was absolutely not entranced by your cute little smile or how you clung to him with little hands that could barely hold his one finger. Absolutely not.

Mihawk is actually a pretty good babysitter. But only for you. He will sit and read to you with you on his lap, trying not to smile when you giggle and smack the book, always catching you when you lunged forward excitedly and almost fell off his lap. He will never finish the story, but he reads to you anyway because you seem to like it...for a little while.

"(Name), no!"

He almost had a heart attack when he set you down for one second to put the book away, and you almost fell off the table because you were trying to crawl to him. Your eyes filled with tears when he yelled, even if he hadn't meant to sound angry. His gaze softened, and he picked up and cradled you against his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you. You're fine, little one."

And then you really are fine, your little body comforted by his actions and words. They lull you into sleep, and soon you rest on his shoulder and fall into a deep sleep, gripping his shirt collar tightly in your tiny fist.

"Sleep well, (Name)."

When you awake, in your usual adult form, you're too nervous to suggest it, but thankfully Mihawk is thinking the same thing.

"I think I'd like a little you or me to keep me company."

BUGGY

Buggy is horrible with children. I mean he's not great with people, but he is absolutely, terrifyingly not good with kids at all. So when you were somehow turned into a tiny human being who could barely stand on two legs, he was shocked. And slightly scared, though he would never admit it. You were the only person he genuinely liked, so he tried not to be too...rough, with your little form. Picking you up was as far as he got, but even then he held you out awkwardly like a football.

And then you squealed and happily reached for his nose, the bright red circular appendage attracting your attention instantly. Now, Buggy was sensitive about his nose, but he let you touch it. A testament to how much he liked you. And, if he were being honest, you were actually kind of cute squeezing his nose like that until he couldn't breath-

Exhale out the mouth.

When he remembered he could use his mouth to breathe, he smiled a little at how much you were enjoying yourself playing with his nose. You even touched his makeup and all his markings, out of curiosity. Your eyes were bright with confusion but also fascination, and it did something weird to Buggy. Made him feel...warm inside?

Then he decided to, experimentally, see what your reaction to his devil fruit would be in this tiny form. He set you down on the floor again, and then detached his hand. Your eyes went wide and you instantly covered your eyes with your small hands, your bottom lip trembling. He panicked, tripping over himself and falling into a tangled heap in front of you. You peeked between your fingers to see this, then burst out into cute laughter. Buggy almost glared at you, but then remembered you were just a baby and instead picked himself up and smiled - or rather tried his best not to smile like a maniac - at you.

Then you saw his floating hand, and grabbed it.

"No no, (Name), that's not-"

You stuck his fingers in your mouth, and he groaned. You just giggled innocently, and only then did he realise his devil fruit could be a source of entertainment for you. He detached multiple limbs and floated them around, watching as you squealed in glee and crawled around trying to catch them.

Were you actually having fun because of him?

When he finally put his body back together again, you pouted but crawled up to his leg and hugged it, gurgling happily as if to thank him. He was stunned. He slowly picked you up and you offered him a toothless smile, before yawning. Still unsure, he laid you on his shoulder and awkwardly patted your back, but that seemed to work because you slowly fell asleep.

When you woke up again, finally an adult, you grinned at him, "Shall we make you a father?"

SHANKS

It was his fault, really. He picked the fight, contrary to his usual behaviour. But that guy had said something about you, and he couldn't ignore it, so of course he acted. And now here you were, a tiny baby fisting his shirt in your tiny hand and looking up at him with big, curious (eye colour) eyes. He had experience with children, of course, having spent some time with Luffy. But you were so small, so delicate.

"Captain, what-"

He ignored the confused questions from his crew as he brought you back on board the ship, immediately taking you to his quarters. It shouldn't last long, he reminded himself, but he still felt guilty. Though that quickly disappeared when you giggled and crawled around his quarters, knocking things over and hiding with a loud giggle when he caught you.

"Oi, (Name)!" He tried to sound stern, he really did, but his laugh have his mood away. You stuck your head out from under his bed and stuck your tiny tongue out at him, and he burst out laughing. "Oh, you're cute, sweetheart."

He lifted you up again and you squealed excitedly and reached for his hair, the bright colour attracting your attention. He grinned and put you on his head, keeping his hands on your small waist, and soon felt you tug on his red strands. You were giggling and pulling and kicking your legs happily, so he endured the pain just for your sake. It was very cute how you thought his hair was a toy, and by the time you got tired of it, it was a mess. Strands were everywhere, out of place, sticking out...but it didn't matter to him.

Because now you were looking at him with your big, innocent eyes and suckling on your hand as he cradled you against his chest. He gently rubbed your back and pressed a soft kiss to your tiny tuft of (hair colour) hair.

"You're so pretty even as a baby, (Name)."

You rewarded him with a sloppy kiss on his cheek, making him laugh. He sat on his bed with you still in his arms, watching as you grew tired and offered him the cutest sight - the tiniest of yawns.

"Sleep, little one."

He gently rocked you to sleep, reassuringly and soothingly patting your small back as you drifted off on his shoulder. He felt warm inside, as if a small fire had been lit inside him. He knew what it was.

And when you woke up in adult form, he grinned at you, "Let me give you a baby, sweetheart."

BROOK

Brook has experience with babies. Maybe not human babies, but babies nonetheless. He knows a human baby is very different to a whale baby, but he figures that there can be similarities too. Such as entertainment, which is his area of expertise. So when he looks down at his feet to see baby you tugging on his pants, he is somewhat prepared. He has no idea how you were turned into a baby, of course, but he's not complaining because you are so, so adorable.

"What happened to (Name)?" Franky asked the skeleton, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important!" Was Brook's gleeful reply, followed by a laugh when you somehow crawled on top of his afro and knocked his hat off so you could take its place.

"Nothing imp-" Franky sighed. "Do you even know how to look after a baby?" Franky's eyes worriedly drifted to where you sat upon the skeleton's head, tugging on his afro and squealing with delight. You wobbled precariously.

"No, but it can't be any different to a baby whale!"

Franky would have commented on that, if you hadn't slipped off Brook's head. The cyborg easily caught you, before holding you out to Brook, "Don't let her sit on your head."

"Noted."

For the rest of the day, Brook occupied you by sitting you down on his bed and playing music for you, telling you stories about Laboon and his crew, and about his experiences in the Grand Line before you guys found him. He sang all sorts of songs, played all sorts of melodies, while you giggled and clapped your hands excitedly, bouncing up and down. Brook smiled, the sight warming heart - oh, but he doesn't have a heart. He hardly ever got tired, but you prompted him to play for hours on end, until he really was exhausted. So he picked you up, settled on his bed, and lay you on his lap before humming a tune. You slowly drifted off to sleep, and Brook smiled.

He hoped he could play for one of the crew's babies one day.

CHOPPER

Another island, another mishap, another adventure. No trip is ever boring with the Straw Hats, and this was again proven when an unfortunate encounter with a devil fruit user who could change people's ages led to you being turned into an infant. And that's how you found yourself cradled in Sanji's arms, with Chopper trying to get a good look at you all throughout the walk back to the Sunny.

"Chopper, she's fine," the cook tried to assure the doctor, but Chopper was having none of it.

He was so worried, because no one was equipped to take care of a baby, and he cared about you so much that now you were a baby, he was becoming overprotective. As soon as Sanji set you down somewhere safe for Chopper to examine you, he was grabbing his bag and bringing out all his different tools. He checked all your vitals and made sure you were first and foremost healthy, before he could consider anything else.

Then you touched his blue nose and widened your eyes in fascination, gurgling softly, and Chopper blushed brightly. He smiled and poked your nose back, and you let out the cutest giggle that melted the reindeer's little heart. He shifted to his humanoid form and gently lifted you up into his arms, cradling you as he gazed down at you with the utmost love, adoration and fascination he could manage. You were so tiny, even more so than him, and so so cute. Then you sneezed, looking stunned for a moment before giggling loudly. And Chopper thought there was nothing more joy-inducing than holding and watching baby you.

"Chopper, where's-oh." Nami stopped when she saw Chopper standing there just holding you, one of his fingers in your tiny hand as he cooed at you and made you giggle. She smiled softly and left the room, deciding you were in safe hands.

"You're the cutest baby in the world, (Name)," Chopper told you. You just smiled brightly, exposing your gums cause you had no teeth, and waved your small arms around happily.

Chopper was really good with you. He monitored you throughout the 24 hours, making sure you ate properly, got enough sleep and were bathed properly. He is probably the best caretaker out of all the men on this list, not only because he's doctor but he's naturally caring and nurturing. It comes like second nature to him. Besides, you were such a calm and quiet baby - except for the giggling - that you made it easy for him. He was almost sad when you fell asleep, knowing you'd be grown up again when you woke up.

But maybe one day the crew would be able to fawn over a baby everyday. Maybe one day.

[anadiasmount]

we’re pretending? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: no date to an upcoming wedding, you use your best friend as last resort. what happens when your best friend isn’t playing pretend anymore and you’re left conflicted with these unusual feelings…

wc: 4.6 k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: i used my og ‘glory box’ fic to get some inspo while writing this fic ngl!! 😣 this was so fun to write not only by the trope but the DRAMAAAA!! like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍

“yes mom, i know. i picked my dress up yesterday, and my flight is booked as well,” you sighed and rolled your eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see you through the phone. she knew how important this wedding was but she kept putting the pressure on you. it was the last thing you needed especially after you told her you’d bring someone along.

that someone was now you’re ex-boyfriend. you had less than 48 hours to come up with an excuse or show up alone.

"are you still bringing your plus one?" she asked, the line going silent for a few seconds before she spoke up again. "y/n? are you there?" you should've just lied or said the truth, all you could think of was how happy and super excited she was when you told her you'd met someone and began dating.

"yes mom... we both will be there," you closed your eyes, disappointment in yourself filling the void in your head. you could hear her squeal in the background, telling a voice there with her about the good news. you chewed on your lip anxiously, wanting to cut the call or else you'd break down.

"listen mom, i have t-to go okay? ill call you tomorrow. try not to stress so much," you smiled weakly hearing an "i love you", ending the call after gifting your goodbye. there was no avoiding the mistake you had committed. you wanted to slap some common sense into yourself, because where the hell were you about to find someone?

you clearly remembered the day telling your mom you'd met someone at uni. she was over the moon and wanted to tell everyone but you dismissed the idea, not wanting to rush since you had recently met. you would call her and tell her about him, and she listened so attentively, just like in the movies.

you couldn't bring yourself to tell her when you and max had broken up. your whole life has always been surrounded by being told you needed to be more like your older sister, the pressure of being a golden child laid on you. for once you had something, but that had to get ruined as well.

the scolding, the perfect grades, friends, hell even family. you had to be so careful and live up to their expectations. you loved them, you did, but at times you just felt like moving away was the best idea. and you did just that, the first to move out to a new country, breaking records at uni, and even finding a suitable job.

your boss loved you, and coworkers admired you for the passion and dedication you carried. so why did it have to go all wrong with max? you had an image of him in your head that he was madly in love with you, though you'd later be proven wrong when you found out he was sleeping with his boss. finding them in the act on your 6th month anniversary.

you still can recall the feeling of being unable to breathe, their screams and his pleading going quiet as you could just stare into the room, not once being able to see his eyes. disgust, and rage, but mostly sadness, a heavy heart, and the lump in your throat. he hurt you terribly and you would forever resent that.

after the call, you sat quietly on the couch, hands in your hair as you thought about everything. looking around seeing your bags packed, the blue dress hanging by your room, pictures everywhere. you hated to admit but you were living in a hell, life messy and a disaster. your buzz ringed, seeing through the tiny camera your best friend jude in the frame.

you allowed him in, walking over to the large mirror and wiping away the dry tears, making yourself look more presentable. you looked worn out, eyes droopy and low, lips slightly chapped, and to make matters worse a zit on your chin. you exhaled a breath, keys jiggling as jude came in.

he set his training bag down, took his shoes off, and walked to you, giving you a small hug. "you look terrible," you gave him a warning look, "but lucky you, i brought us food," he spoke cheerfully, the mood inside you going from gloomy to content. "it's raining like crazy, i almost fell coming up. also i brought some packages and your mail," jude continued.

"thank you, i haven't had the time to go down and pick them up! i've been so busy packing and planning last-minute stuff," you groaned, going to the kitchen and washing your hands. "watch, in the next few minutes i'm going to get a call," you theorized. jude pulled out the food and served it into your plates as you grabbed a water for him and a soda for yourself.

"how was training?"

jude shrugged unimpressed, "same old. didn't really have to go in, but they needed me for a small campaign shoot, so i had no choice. also cama and tchou send their hello's."

you and jude spoke amongst yourself. just about each other's days and catching up from the last time you guys were together. you teased him about losing a bet with his little brother, jude whining about how he cheated. new music that came out, and a pop up store that opened lower in downtown.

"so what's got your head in a twist?" jude sipped on his last few ounces of water, leaning his head on his propped-up arm and hand. you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, pick up the dirty dishes, and walk to the sink. "okay don't make fun of me-"

"you're basically asking me too... also no promises since you just made fun of me for losing against jobe," jude chuckled.

"jude."

"oh it's serious then... what did you do?" he saw the serious look on your face, a small worry constructing in his chest because he rarely saw you like this. you close your eyes, feeling the anxiety build in you once again, "i told my mom i was still bringing max..."

jude scoffed in denial, or trying to cope with the confusion, "y/n, you what?"

"i know! i know! i should've just confessed and coughed up the truth but i- i couldn't! she was so excited jude! i feel terrible for lying believe me i do, but after telling her about him and filling her with hope to break her heart, i just c-c-couldn't," you ramble, dishes clattering as you freaked out.

in your head it didn't seem as bad, but fully saying it out loud to jude, seemed even worse. jude grimaced, knowing you had messed up bad especially since the wedding was right around the corner. "i'm just embarrassed... i know they will start something and just talk down on me if i showed up alone."

jude knew how heavy-handed your family could be, often wanting to resent them because he cared for you so much. he saw how physically and mentally they could rain you even with the smallest sentence. they seemed so worried with their lives instead of the ones they should most value and care for.

jude gave you a concerned face, "what?" chuckling nervously when you gasped out, almost being able to see the lit-up light bulb on top of your head. "jude, I'm a genius!"

"well i beg to differ-"

"shut up," you pat your finger against your chin, a mischievous smile on your lip taunting jude's concern even more. "i don't know why i didn't think of this sooner! why don't you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for the wedding that's it!"

jude shook his head, hands coming up to back out of the idea. it was one thing you lying, but now asking you to play pretend was something totally different. "that's not a good idea y/n..." jude clenched his teeth forcing a smile. "oh cmon why not?"

"well, first of all, that's an even bigger lie to your mom. second, pretending would seem impossible. third, i don't want the first time meeting your parents to be a lie because of what happened," jude defended and stated his case.

"it's a huge favor but you'd save my life jude! one weekend and that's it! you have plenty of suits, you're also off this weekend, and they would never suspect a thing! please jude! i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't so desperate," you begged, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

"it seems like a bad idea... you don't know what you're asking for y/n... were pretending to be a couple when were not! we have to make it believable even under the pressure of the wedding. a theatrical play, a stunt!" jude exclaimed standing up from his chair.

"jude please, please, please! it might feel weird but it's for the night only! after that, we go back to the good old y/n and jude," you followed him as he paced in your living room thinking of his answer. would it be back to normal even if he continued to feel the same for you? the unknown loving feeling he had for you?

the pretending would be hard when all he could hardly think of was you. how he felt recently and how nervous he got around you. he would do anything for you in a heartbeat, but this would break jude further than now. he couldn't fake pretend holding your hand, or kissing your cheek when he meant and wanted to do that with you currently.

as bad as the idea was, here he was hugging you as you cheerfully yelped when he agreed. time moved slowly for him, the sensation of regret and curiosity as what was yet to come from both of you. all he cared for was to make sure you were happy, and if faking being your boyfriend would help you, he was willing to do it, no matter the consequences.

as jude was fixing his hair, you finished setting your makeup with some powder and setting spray. nerves bubbling in you after the first test you encountered last night after your arrival. you let out a laugh at the tiny bed you had to share with jude. seeing his uneasy face even after he offered to sleep on the couch.

"we're running on schedule," you spoke, finishing clasping your jewelry around your hands and rings. jude came behind you, his shirt unbuttoned and abs in full view, as he finished zipping his pants. best friend or not, there was no denying how incredibly sexy jude was. the name should speak for itself, but with the looks and personality he had, it was too good to be true.

"need some help?" he asked seeing you nod slowly and looking down at your feet. he took the necklace, your skin on fire as his fingertips grazed your skin accidentally, almost jumping on the spot, goosebumps grazing your body. he clasped the necklace, grabbing the pendent and fixing it so it laid in the middle. "perfect," he cockliy smirked.

"thank you."

"are you almost ready?" he looked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, you almost stuttered but regained consciousness, "yes, just need to put my dress and shoes on," you turned back quickly furrowing your brows, wanting to slap yourself for allowing yourself to get carried away, or maybe at the uneasy desire in you when seeing jude.

you went to the bathroom, grabbing the lacy undergarments and the blue dress. the color was to die for, the perfect length even with your heels on, the opened back with the front just showing the perfect amount of cleavage, and the whole dress just accentuating your body even more.

you felt the need to throw some water in your face though you couldn't or else it would ruin your makeup. you settled with fanning yourself with your hand, the tense in your chest getting to you as it was becoming real now. you were just pretending with jude. nothing more right?

you looked in the huge light-up mirror, and suddenly the confidence you had dripped away as you thought of jude in the next room over. why did all of a sudden everything feel like it wasn't before? as in, things changed drastically since the night at your apartment? you've never felt this clumsy or as edgy around him.

when you woke up this morning, with jude on top of you laying peacefully, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed, as if it was a natural state and you've done it before. in your own world where the only thing that mattered was him and you. since then you were slightly freaked out, butterflies in your chest when he left or walk into the room.

jude double taked a look as you walked into the room again. the tiny room that felt like a joke to him after walking in hand to hand last night. his eyes roamed you, lips slightly separated as he admired your beauty, heart hammering in his chest. he watched as you grabbed your cheeks, immediately offering to help.

he leaned down, gently grabbing your foot and placing the white jeweled heel on you. your hands were clamped around the small bench cushions, jude looking up then and there to make sure they felt comfortable. once again, his touch felt like fire, playing with your head even more.

when he finished clasping the heel, he extended his hand helping you up. "you look absolutely gorgeous y/n... this dress was made for you," jude croaked, hearing you laugh shakily. "thank you jude. likewise," jude smiled at your reaction, "i mean as in you look super handsome with the suit, not a dress!" you explained.

"i think i got what you meant..." he joked, his eyes roaming uo and down again at you. "good. good. shall we head out?" you swallowed heavily, grabbing your purse, phone, and other stuff you needed for the night. you were in a rush, wanting to get some fresh air or you would explode in the room with jude inside. "lead the way y/n."

jude helped you in an out of the cab, his hand on your bare back as he guided you to the double doors leading into the reception. "how are you feeling? any nerves?" you spoke quietly to him, looking around as people were taking their seats or had their own conversations.

"some but not too many. like you said, it's just for today," he whispered along your ear, gently giving your shoulder a kiss as his hands went to your hips and walked you forward. your mom and aunt gasped, grabbing their dresses and walking towards you, almost sprinting. "here goes nothing," you say.

"oh my god! so you are real!" your mom yelped, making you give her a glare and eyes pleading not to make a scene. "i was starting to think my sweet y/n was lying to me about this boyfriend she had," you almost choked on your saliva, clearing your throat at her words. "i am y/n's mom, what is your name?"

"i'm jude. it's a pleasure to finally meet you ma'am," jude shook her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheeks in a greeting manner, the same with your aunt. jude's hand interlocked with yours, the happiness in your mother's eyes never leaving, almost tearing up at the sight of you with your "boyfriend."

"i can't believe it! it's a miracle, my daughter finally has her first boyfriend," she clapped her hands making you wretched at her choice of wording. you did everything to have her at least praise you once in life, and all it took was to have a boyfriend? you brushed away the glum feeling, jude kissing your hand, distracting you from the small burn in your eyes.

"oh my! look at them! they make such a beautiful pair," your aunt gleamed. "we do, don't we?" jude teased them, "took her a while to say yes to me, but i'm very fortunate to be here," jude resumed. "we're very pleased to have you here, anything you need don't hesitate to ask."

after saying hello to other family friends and cousins, you sat for the ceremony. jude wiped a small tear away after your old school friend finished her vows, slapping his shoulder when he made a small joke about your mascara running. "its not funny! the vows were so beautiful," you said.

"it's like we are watching me before you again," he said making you gasp. "jude what are talking about? you literally cried with me?" you recalled laughing, jude looking around scared if someone was hearing you. "please don't remind me... in my defense, i didn't see that ending at all."

after the ceremony, you and jude greeted other families, and most importantly congratulated the bride and groom. their faces ushered with happiness, overall content with how their day was turning out. you had to excuse yourself from jude at one point, your mom dragging you away for your help. jude was left behind with your dad.

"since she was little, she always hated getting thrown or dragged around," your father spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey. "seems like nothing had changed?" jude asked carefully with a playful smile. "oh not even close! it's my wife doing," he winked.

"jude right?"

"yes sir," jude nodded, presenting the dad talk coming up. "I'm gonna save the unnecessary talk and get straight to the point. it's so weird to see my baby girl all grown up, with the lusting and loving eyes she gives you. you love her very much and i can see that which is why i'm not worried about you hurting or losing her trust."

hell if jude didn't feel guilty before, he did now. he gripped the glass harder, nodding to your dad who looked upset. "she may have told you some stuff about us, but at the end of the day, she's my daughter and i love her the way she is... please just take good care of her for me... she been through enough as it is..."

"i only have good intentions and i promise you i won't ever break her heart," jude promised to your dad, but also himself. he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did break your heart or make you lose the trust you had. max did it once and jude would never do it. even if it meant keeping away these long feelings for you.

when you returned you saw them laughing and chatting away, your heart full of emotions at them getting along. jude was so mature for his age, and it didn't come to a surprise when he got along with your dad so fast. his hand would naturally lay on your back or on your hip.

the next few hours were filled with more people dancing or chatting away. jude insisting you sat on his lap for a picture when the photographer passed, smiling wide, looking like a happy couple. it seemed so natural to you, being this close and intimate you were getting scared at how fast everything was being thrown at you.

"i had to see it for myself! y/n bagging a footballer? never saw that coming," your cousin approached you giving you a high as he dabbed up jude. "jude meet my cousin adrian, he's a huge fan of you, and just successfully signed with a small club," you introduced them to each other, with a huge grin on your face.

jude’s hand snuck around your waist, his thumb drawing shapes as his full attention was with your cousin who spoke about sports. you listened then and there, but your feet began to ache, switching your weight back and forth uncomfortably.

jude was quick to notice, leaving down to your level and asking if you were okay. “i’m fine i promise, these shoes are killing me that’s all,” you reassured with a smile, jude nodding before cutting the conversation after a few minutes. “i’m going to get her a chair and drinks for us,” you froze when he kissed your temple, “i’ll see you around later,” jude said his goodbyes dragging you along slowly.

like before, your chest beat faster, if he stared, smiled, even touched or got near you, you’d get nervous immediately. the familiar string of falling for someone filling the empty space left behind inside you. he was super good at pretending and it didn’t feel like that anymore.

it felt real. was he just pretending? or was he actually taking this fake relationship seriously and real?

all you could do was stare at his face, mostly his gorgeous brown eyes as he helped you get seated and served you some water, making sure you were fully okay. he sat next to you, his hand interlocking with his, and placing it on his lap as he paid attention to his surroundings. you become quiet, so into your head and questioning his every move now.

“jude?” you spoke softly, a confused smile on your face as he immediately turned to you with a soften gaze. you inhaled a breath, unable to look away from him, his ínstese state causing you to feel intimidated. “is everything okay?” he asked, leaning slightly over to you, pushing a small string of hair back. “is it supposed to feel like this?”

“what is?” jude shook his head not understanding.

“us? why am i getting the idea we’re no longer pretending…”

jude tore his gaze from yours, the panic growing more intense when he wouldn't reply back. "jude please... don't push me away. are we just pretending or has something changed?" you persisted, your hand gliding against his back to get his attention. jude debated, afraid of losing you right here and now, or having the possibility to maybe hear you feel the same way.

"come with me," jude demanded, helping your and dragging you to the dance floor where no one could really see you besides the other happy couples. his hands circled your waist, as yours went to his shoulders, unable to look away from him. "tell me i'm not the only one who feels it..."

"tell me what you feel y/n... what your head is begging to scream out..."

"i can't, i don't know jude. i'm afraid yet so confused? since we got here yesterday things feel different between us. it happened again when we had breakfast, when you put my necklace on, my heels! all of this is giving me mixed signals jude... i haven't felt this in so long.." you confess, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he pulls you closer and kisses your head.

"like now. i can't if you just did that out of pretending or because it came naturally to you. i've never had to worry about what you think till recently... it feels strange... yet ican't help but get hope that it means real," you rest your forehead on his shoulder blinking away the tears that slowly begin to let out.

jude could see how this was affecting you, holding your lower body with one hand and the other smoothing down your spine, feeling how you immediately let loose and relaxed by his praise and touch. jude could also feel the heavy weight beginning to feel heavier if he kept his true hidden feelings away. it was a sign, and there was no going back.

jude's hand cradled your chin, forcing you to look up at his, his brown eyes gazing over your teary face. he was truly amazed and so in love with you it made his head feel cloudy, almost dizzy, at how perfect and pure you were. his tummy fluttering at his gorgeous girl who was confused at how she felt... but in this moment jude knew you were in deep as well.

"tell me something, when you see me, does it make your heart race, like i'm the only person standing there?" you nod, "does your head tell you one thing but your gut tells you another when you see me?" you nod again, this time blowing the air out of jude's lungs. "my head tells me i shouldn't, but my gut tells me i waited so long that maybe it's now to late for us..."

"why would it be too late y/n...?" you shrug your shoulders. "because i don't you feel the same way i'm feeling." jude smiled weakly, his thumb brushing along your jaw, hearing your hum in delight, "how can you know when you haven't asked me?"

your eyes search his for any sign but you don't find any, "what are you feel in this moment jude?"

"that i'm the luckiest man to be here with you tonight," he says proudly, "that i don't think we've wasted any time, rather i feel we're barely getting started on this new branch of our lives... i can't pretend when i'm with you... because pretending to hide how i feel has been so hard, when all i want is you. all of you y/n..."

"i had to see you go through that idiot max, how he hurt you? when you were hurt i was even more devastated because i couldn't protect you. i'd do anything to make you happy or laugh because it's what i want to do. i want to be the only one who gets to do that. i promised your dad but myself also, ask me what the promise is..." jude insisted.

"what's your promise jude?"

"that i'd never break your heart or give you a reason to doubt me. that from this day forward, i completely will give you my all to care and relish our love once and for all. i'm tired of waiting and holding back of what should've existed and started when i first met you."

"jude-"

"i want to give you my all, to be devoted and in love with you forever. you have no idea what you make me feel, think! i wake up longing for you, at work, at my own home. you're the only girl i want and need in my life y/n," jude confessed, the weight finally lifted of his shoulders, now being able to feel like a free man.

you closed your eyes, breathing out a happy chuckle in relief. you sniffled, "you've ruined me jude, completely ruined me with your words, your confession! look at me, i'm worse than when we finished watching the vow!" you joked, hand nestling on the nape of his next, stroking his soft skin.

"you love me jude?"

"more than what you think."

"i need you to know i'm giving you my all as well. I've always sensed how different what we had was, and come to find out, i was just scared and felt the need to push away because you didn't feel the same way. what i feel for you never happened with who shall not be named..." jude chuckles, closing his eyes and swallowing a heavy gulp like you.

"i'm so hopelessly in love with you jude bellingham... so in love, i want to grow old with you, make every promise we said out loud come true. i knew i loved you as soon as we laid eyes, and you stumbled over your words," jude squinted his eyes, shaking his head embarrassed. "kiss me jude."

jude kissed you exactly how he dreamed. your lips soft and sweet as he imagined, even better. cradling your chin to tilt and pulling the kiss deeper. it felt so right, so amazing, so passionate. he was lost, his tongue entering your parted lips when you let out a small gasp and whimper. there was no more pretending, this was more real than ever.

"could get lost in how you taste. how you feel. i love you so much angel."

[jolalibrary]

19. charming blue

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter nineteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 4.1k chapter warnings: dad!frankie. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. flirting. they're no longer idiots. an: next week is the epilogue, and I'm crying in the club rn.

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key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It’s been almost a year.

A thing you think to yourself as you drag the tip of your paintbrush across the cheek of the sixth child at your little homemade stand, nestled on the edge of Sam’s backyard.

It had only been built last night. You and Frankie had been inspired by lemonade stands, ignoring his mutterings about Pinterest as the two of you rummaged in his workshop, scavenging enough wood to bring it to life. Dragging bits and scraps, a saw in hand as you cut things to size, laughing as you begin grunting with each back and forth—

“Alright beaver, calm down. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Morales. I'm only eager for your wood.”

You’re grateful the bruise on your hip is still healing. The one gained from a mandatory break between coats of paint, his finger wrapping two of your fingers in a bandaid. Soft kisses to the tips of them before those same kisses were on your mouth, on your neck, traipsing down your collarbone. That's when you'd caught the edge of his workbench, fingers busy with his belt, a clang, whoosh and then an ouch.

Now, dipping and swirling the paintbrush in the murky water, you feel the pain flare when you shift—hand occasionally brushing over it. A private smile forms, buried easily when another child requests the same animal.

Then, when the stripes and whiskers are complete, you can’t help but grin at the high-pitched thank you that follows, watching the child skip off, shouting to anyone who’ll hear them that they’re a lion too now—at a dinosaur-themed birthday.

Carefully, covering the orange paint, you place the lid back over the others so they don't dry out. The air is full of squeals, sugar practically on the tip of your tongue from the at-home cotton candy machine Sam's cousin is operating. You lift your head, squinting still through the shades you borrowed from Frankie to see that said cousin had given up putting it on a stick, and was instead shoving balls of it into the hands of already excitable and sugar-filled children.

Shaking your head, cleaning your hands on a rag that was now a canvas of colours, going from a pale pink to an assortment of shades, you laugh if only to yourself. Pushing the aviators up your nose, the warm plastic familiar against your skin, and catch a whiff of Frankie's cologne lingering on them—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him.

You had known the two of you were inching towards a year, but it had been Frankie who had brought it up first.

Whispering it against your bare shoulder yesterday morning, asking if he could take you for lunch with a kiss to your hip—having booked a table, reserved the same spot the two of you had sat at during your second date. Only this time, you took in the place even more—hand in hand—from the plants to the decor. You were less nervous than that first time, more comfortable, letting him order a range of mini plates so the two of you could sample a variety of things.

Your fork extended over the table, watching him try to chase the food you had told him he should try, before his fingers—thick, dexterous, that somehow still make your stomach flip—wrap around your wrist so he can place the fork between his teeth.

“We should come here more often,” you had said, him taking your hand in his, thumb brushing over the place between your knuckles.

“We should.”

“You gonna kiss me like you did that first time?”

Licking his lips, swiping a finger through the lingering sauce. “Can do so much more than a kiss, Rainy.”

Sighing, content—finding it hard not to smile—you glance around as the memory fades into Luca's backyard birthday party.

How laughter echoes around the fence panels, blending roughly with the music and occasionally intercepted by a squeal that makes you wince behind your shades. And you wouldn't change it, any of it. Your heart even doubles when you see Luca grinning and waving at you, as you return it before he's running off once again.

“Brought you this.”

Looking up, squinting in the sun, you see the inflated dinosaurs behind him jiggle and move in the warm breeze. Dressed in a green polo, a new fake T-Rex sticker on his cheek, you curl into his touch as his hand spreads across your shoulder.

“Oh? So you’re not here to have your face painted, Morales.”

“Not one bit—makes me itchy.”

“Not very party of you.”

Smiling, he massages a particular spot that could turn you into goo. You press a kiss to his sun-kissed arm, inhaling the scent of his sunscreen—a blend of coconut and tropical flowers that instantly transported you back to your day at the beach, laughing and holding hands as the waves crashed around you. Staring up, you want to brush your fingers through his hair, feel his curls shifting and dancing in the breeze.

“It seems to be holding up well. The stand.”

Smirking, doing a little shrug. “Yeah, it's doing good. Must have been that DIY video.”

Scoffing, it forming from the back of his throat and exiting his mouth quickly, you swear he rolls his eyes. “Wasn't the video.”

“No?”

His fingers still massaging, working the place between your neck and shoulder, jaw tight, eyes fixed on something ahead as he grumbled, “Didn't need it.”

You hum, resting your head against him, smiling, all easy, without a care in the world. “Sometimes, videos aren't all bad though, are they?”

His chin dips, your eyes fixing on the place you think his stare will be behind his own shades. Wondering, hoping he's thinking of the first time you met. The video, the one he'd made you show him so he has some semblance of an idea of what you were trying to do.

“Sometimes. I'll give you that.”

“You think next year it’ll be at yours? The party?”

He draws a circle, one that shifts into a square and then back again. “Maybe. Maybe it’ll be at ours.”

“We do need to finish that conversation.”

Humming, he smiles, lowering his mouth down to meet yours as you hear him whisper, “We do” at the same time as you both distantly hear Luca screaming for him.

“I think you’re being summoned.”

“Swear my kid is cockblocking me from finishing this conversation with you.”

“Maybe it’s an omen.”

Tapping you, you smirk—biting your lip as he grins. “Do me a favour.”

Letting him hold the back of your neck as you tip, his fingers gripping just lightly. “Anything, baby.”

“If I’m not off that in five minutes, stab it with something so it deflates.”

Smirking, you brush your fingers over his back as he kisses the top of your head. You watch him run off to the bounce house, unable to stop yourself from grinning, feeling nothing but joy as he charges in and roars.

Adjusting the party hat atop your head, you glance over and spot Sam, who mouths a thank you for the millionth time today before pointing at the buffet. You shake your head.

You’re not sure you can eat another pizza roll if you tried, but you don’t say no when she points at the cupcakes beside it.

The second cupcake is being devoured when you carry in some of the presents an hour later, placing them in the room marked Luca’s. It is so vastly different from the one at Frankie’s, yet still holds the same charm. The colours are different, if not reversed in how they’re used, the love of dinosaurs smothering everywhere it can in a similar fashion to his.

Admiring, letting your eyes wander across the photographs on the top of the little cubbies, the ones that hold multicoloured tubs with sticky labels highlighting their contents. In each frame, the people shift, from Sam and Luca to Frankie, Sam and Luca, Luca and what you assume are his grandparents, but the smile, the grin never changes. It just grows, gets bigger with him as more hair curls atop his head and his hands get larger as he waves at the camera.

“You hiding from me?” Looking over your shoulder, you find Frankie walking towards you, hands sliding around your waist as he rests his head against yours. “Well, I found you.”

“Is this the part where I scream?”

Snorting, he kisses your cheek. “If you want a bunch of tiny lions coming and stealing me again, be my guest.”

Leaning against him, fingers tracing over his, feeling his knuckles, the healed scratches and rough parts. “Hey, did you build these?” you ask, resting your head on him, his chin resting on you. “They’re like the ones at yours…”

You hear him swallow, before he shrugs. “Maybe.”

Tilting your head, staring at him, finding his eyes have flicked down even if his head is still in the same position. “Has anyone told you that you’re good at this—at making things with your hands?”

His chest fills with a breath before he slowly exhales. “I try.”

Fingers, all instinctive, slide around his chin, tug his chin down, eyes unable to not stare into yours. “I mean it. You’re really good at what you do, Frankie.”

One side of his mouth slides into his cheek, before he takes your hand, kissing your wrist. “C’mon, before there’s a search party.”

Clutching his wrist, keeping him in place. “I love you, you know?”

His lips slide into his cheek as he closes the gap, his fingers cradling your face tenderly. “I know,” he whispers, his eyes soft and full of wonder, as if he's hearing it for the first time, before he presses a slow, lingering kiss against your lips, sealing the words against your mouth.

I don’t know who is running your social account but they’re very witty.

They are. They make me laugh.

Yes, I’ve heard they have a good mouth on them.

Did you know that they’re also beautiful and very cute in the morning?

Should I be worried? They sound like a keeper.

Jealous?

Depends, are you going to make them a coffee using your complicated machine?

Maybe. They’re a bit moody without caffeine.

I’m beginning to feel offended.

I will say that you were right about scheduling them—it has helped.

Is that you saying I’m right?

Maybe.

I’ve screenshotted that as evidence.

Do you want a coffee bringing when I come to yours?

Is that a bribe to delete the evidence? Either way, that would be nice.

Good, might have already made you one in your cup.

You spoil me, Butterscotch.

It's hard not to fidget—moving from standing to pacing, to leaning.

Currently, you're back to standing in the place where the sun streams in through the open back door, casting warm, golden light across the kitchen floor, and your feet as it gently warms you—until you get too hot again.

The gentle breeze continues to bring in the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the soft hum of distant lawnmowers which add a somewhat comforting background to the quiet afternoon. But neither do anything to stem the growing worries in your stomach, the ones climbing, doubling—

Sliding your hand around your glass, the ice cubes clink softly, slowly melting and leaving a ring of condensation on the counter. You sip the cold water, letting it cool your nerves. The anticipation builds, each second stretching as you glance at the clock, knowing he'll be here any moment.

It doesn’t work, not even as you take in a deep breath.

Trying to will tranquillity and calm to shower down over your shoulders as you glance at the clock, realising he’ll be here any moment.

And it makes your heart pound. Forces your palms to become a little more clammy as you place the glass down in its puddle.

You’ve rehearsed this. Gone over it in your head, running a hand down your outfit to flatten it—as though that would be the thing that could ruin this. Even if you’ve gone over every detail of this surprise a million times. Yet, standing in the quiet kitchen, you can’t help but second-guess everything.

What if he doesn’t like it?

What if he thinks you’ve overstepped?

What if, what if, what if—

Shaking your head, you jumble the doubts. Shake them to some other part like a snow globe, taking a reprieve from them before they flutter back down. Allowing yourself the brief chance to remind yourself why you’ve done this, why you're doing this.

Because you love him. Because you believe in him—

Taking in another deep breath, fingers flexing at your side, you force yourself to focus on the positive outcome you’ve imagined so many times, rather than the others.

Like him storming out.

Like him staring at you in outrage, questioning why, what gave you the right.

But then, this is him.

Your Frankie. The one who never needs the heating, because he’s always several degrees warmer than you, a thing you hate when he’s not sharing a bed with you—when he’s not pulling you close and whispering against your skin that he’ll keep you warm.

Or, your Frankie who grunts if he’s not awake before you, needing coffee, or breakfast. Tugging you close as he curls you under him, burying his face in your neck as he grunts that it’s too early—even if he deep down knows it isn’t.

The man who goes quieter when he’s tired, who dislikes bumper-to-bumper traffic and hammers his thumbs on the steering wheel in protest of it; who might be fiercely protective, but has never stormed out or raised his voice—so why would this even be a worry you’d have.

You jolt at the echoed familiar sound of a key turning in the front door, a flutter of excitement mingling with a rush of nerves as your thoughts fade, vanish. Replacing it with nothingness, a barren wasteland of quiet worry.

And each noise you can hear makes it worse. Makes you feel sick, nauseous, sweaty and lightheaded. Your fingers clamping to the counter for leverage—

"Hello?" he calls out, his voice carrying through the open rooms. You hear the door close behind him, the soft clink of keys as he puts them down.

"In here," you reply, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

Frankie appears in the doorway, his face lighting up as he sees you. "Hey," he says, crossing the room to wrap you in a warm embrace. "What’s this? You look like you’ve got something up your sleeve."

You smile, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "Maybe I do," you tease, your heart racing a little faster.

He raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What’s my surprise?"

Nervously, you slide the turned-over paper across the smooth counter towards him, your fingers trembling slightly. His smile, ever so warm, flickers with curiosity as his eyes drop to the paper.

Everything you rehearsed, fades, goes.

It’s like trying to grasp water, it just slides through your fingers as your hand hovers over the paper, flattening it, pressing it to the counter as though willing it to vanish. You’re thrumming, vibrating, unsure if you’ll even be able to keep your voice level as you clear your throat.

“So, you can totally rip this to pieces—but, happy six years.”

Nervously, you slide the turned-over paper across the smooth counter towards Frankie, your fingers trembling slightly. His smile, ever so warm, flickers as his eyes drop to the paper as you begin talking, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“I know it’s late, and I know it was a bit ago, but firstly, just know I love you. And I love what you do—all of it. Harolds, Instagram...”

Tilting his head, a flash of nervousness ripples out across his face. “Rainy, you’re making me nervous.”

Shaking your arms out, you smile. “Don’t be. I can be nervous, you can’t be.”

“Oh, is that how this goes.”

Grinning, you nod. His hand takes yours, his other trailing up and down your forearm as he stares into your eyes—as though trying to have a conversation with your soul. Almost commanding you to breathe, to take a second, both things you do before licking your lips.

“You’re so good with your hands—” You don’t miss his snort, “and at DIY, at renovating. That room in there, it’s beautiful, everything I thought I ever wanted.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a hint of confusion crossing his features.

“You’re good at it. So good. People are reaching out to you and you don’t even have the time.”

“I know, I just—”

“Let me finish, please baby.”

You take another deep breath, trying not to shift nervously on the spot. Sliding the paper closer to him, you press on. “You can say no. We can pretend I never did this, never even brought it up. I don’t want to be someone who makes you do something you don’t want to do, but I also don’t want to be someone who doesn’t support you, who doesn’t champion you and make you feel like you can.”

“Rainy… what’s going on?”

Biting your lip, you exhale loudly. “Turn it over.”

And he does. Dropping his hand from your fingers to do so.

All you can do is watch.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as he does so. Your heart thumping into your ribs, anxiety rippling and spreading out as it turns over and you see the moment his eyes spot it, take it in.

His eyes gaze up and down the paper, taking in the logo you’ve spent weeks on. The one with a new name, with ‘by Frank.DIY’ in the corner. Raindrops in the top corner, for you, and a flash of orange for butterscotch; tools and a house with a broken roof, details that he might not notice at first glance, but you hope he will on further ones.

Then there’s just silence.

Unreadable, bubbling silence that makes you shift. Makes your inside knot and twist as you try to give him a moment, a minute. Failing.

“I remember you told me you didn’t think you deserved to own anything. And I know you, and the others, faced a lot before I even knew your name. But, Frankie, I’m here to prove you otherwise—when you’re ready.”

His face lifts to you, the paper under his hand, fingers outstretched over it, a look so nondescript on his face that your pulse begins to pound in your ears.

Mouth falling open, you want to ask him to speak, to say something, but you’re not sure you can find the words. Having prepared for anger, for joy, but not something in the middle that was hard to label or describe.

Less so when he places the paper down. When he stands, and you subconsciously mirror him—his hand scratching the back of his neck, skin turning a shade of pink you hadn’t banked on.

“I should… I should give you a moment, right?”

Moving, stepping out from behind your side of the counter, fidgeting, moving slowly as you try to find words and form thoughts to choose a place to go hide in.

“I crossed a line, and I’m—”

He doesn’t let you go far, fingers sliding around your wrist, tugging, pausing you in your step. And it’s silent, just covered by your slight heavy breathing as your teeth nip at the skin of your lips, as your other fingers twitch nervously at your side—desperate to pick, to scratch. To anything to root—

Then, he’s pulling you flush to him, lips crashing to yours in a way that steals both your breath and your worries.

“I’m sorry, Frankie—”

His palm cups your cheeks, and tilts you to look at him. “You really believe in me.”

Heart settling, warmth spreading. “Absolutely, Frankie. I always have.” The look he gives you undoes you, makes the worries melt and instead be consumed by the need to comfort. “Have done since you measured my office without even using a measuring tape.”

Swallowing, with difficulty, he tries to smile at your joke. “I can't... I can't believe you made me this... Baby, it’s so good.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No. No, sorry—no. Overwhelmed, maybe?”

Smiling, nodding, you swallow. “Yeah, I didn’t—should have done more of a speech.”

Laughing, his eyes close, the tip of his nose brushing yours, just keeping you there, fixed, paused. Your hands slowly rise to stroke at the underside of his forearms, just like he did—the paper there, turned upright on the counter.

“Tell me.”

Two words he’s begun to say more when he can hear the cogs turning—when he can tell that there’s more bursting and bobbing around your mind.

“Frankie…”

“I know you. So, tell me.”

Sighing, you avert your eyes, when he taps your arm and you take his hand, leading him into your living room, sitting, finding further proof that it doesn’t feel half as warm as his—not even close to as comfortable.

Taking a breath, you smile. “The other week, when you asked me if I’d live with you. If you meant what you said, I’d love to live with you.” Your free hand, the one not inside his on his bent knee, raises, pausing. “But we don’t have to sell here, I’m not sure we’d make much, and that’s a decision to make to—”

“Rainy.”

Nodding, you take another breath. “Now, this is all hypothetical. It’s your choice—”

Smiling, he tightens the hold on your hand. “Ours.”

Rolling your lips, sighing. “Ours. But, we could use this house for your business—keep things here. Operate meetings from the office because it is too beautiful not to use—and you’ve worked too hard on it not to show it off. Or we can sell here, use the little that’s from it to set you up one of those summer house things so you can work from that.”

“I can’t leave Harold.”

Biting your lip briefly, you smile, tipping your chin. “He thought you’d say that.”

Brows lifting, Frankie slowly frowns.

“He's got a real eye for things—helped me with the logo quite a bit. Gave me some constructive feedback—as did the boys. I never told them what it was, but…”

“That was what Will almost dropped you in on at the fight.”

Grinning, you squeeze his hand. “I could have kicked him. Will guessed what I was doing first, I had only asked a question—but I just told them you’d mentioned rebranding. But he guessed and then he helped where he could. He's been looking at getting on your truck for you.”

Frankie laughs, raising his hand to scratch the back of his head as his nostrils flare.

“And when I nipped in to grab those bits for you, I asked Harry about working there—jokingly. I think that’s when he caught on,” you say, shaking your head. “Don’t think I’m good at surprises. But he brought it up, me working with him, that day I helped?”

“Baby…”

“Anyway, I could take your place, Harold’s would be covered still, and then when I can, I can help you—probably just with painting, think if we did any woodworking I’d slow us down.”

Frankie snorts, fingers scratching at the curls above his forehead. “I can’t ask you to give up your job.”

“You’re not. I… Frankie, I like what I do, but only sometimes. I’m burnt out. You even asked the other week if it was making me happy, and it isn’t. And, look, I’m not saying it’s forever, but for now, I can do it when I choose to, be picky. I can be an extra pair of hands when you need it, helping you get off the ground, and can use the discount when needed for little bits.”

His other hand comes over the top of the ones linked, eyes soft, gentle, and sweet.

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to do it. It’s your choice—you deserve a choice, Frankie. And if you don’t use the logo, that’s fine, but I will put it on a flask for when I make you lunches.”

Laughing, he dips his head, before lifting it to meet yours. “If I choose not to do it, will you still move in with me?”

“Are you finally, really asking me?”

Biting the inside of his cheek, tilting his head to the side, he nods.

You smile, leaning closer, arms wrapping around his neck. “Well, I would love to move in with you, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, taking in a deep breath. “Yeah. Because if it's not clear, there's not a thing I want more than a future with you, Butterscotch.”

TO THE EPILOGUE ->

do not be alarmed, we still have the epilogue. but, long time fans will know that jo is more emotional at the chapter prior to the epilogue than the epilogue. this is where my goodbye begins.

firstly, thank you. to every single person who gave me a chance to tell a hardware!frankie story, for letting rainy into your hearts, and for letting this become what it is. this is the longest thing I've written in years, and a reminder of the reason why i love writing so much.

this entire thing wouldn't be possible without @secretelephanttattoo and i will be forever grateful for her pushing me to do this, especially when i think she could tell i was swirling down a drainhole with something else. it was a raft, those cute rings you throw when someone is drowning, so thank you, my dear friend.

and, this entire thing wouldn't be what you love, if it wasn't for the encouragement from @goodwithcheese. who each week began her excitement that made me giddy, from guess the paint shade to letting me share with her my big plans for this chapter first. when i thought i was losing the path, she reminded me the path was very much there, i just needed to take a breath.

and then finally, a special thank you to @thetriumphantpanda who holds my hand a lot more than you lot thing. who read the first chapter of this when we met and got so excited with me i had to really hold back tears.

to my darling @morallyinept who told me she loves my frankie, you don't know what those words did for me on a day where i almost walked away, to the amazing and brilliant @toomanytookas who understood rainy on a level that we can both share, and to @covetyou my lo <3 for being there every week and also for understanding how conflicted and odd i feel about next week.

truly there is so many more of you i wish to thank, but i am honestly sobbing writing this. this may be the hardest pairing I've had to let go of (and i know, we have another week, but my grief has begun so.. shh).

i love you all, I'll see you next week. thank you for letting me tell a story that means more to me than there are enough words for me to explain why.

[eczlipse]

ICE SKATING DATE - P.S.H

summary : after a while, your boyfriend finally agrees on bringing you to his old skating rink.

pairing : boyfriend!sunghoon x girly!femreader

genre : fluff, quality time with your boyfriend ++ established relationship.

warnings : nicknames (baby, hun, princess ++) .. kisses— lowercase intended.

wc : 1.5k

after months of begging, your boyfriend had finally decided to bring you over to his old skating rink. he had always declined before hand— not to be mean, more willingly because of your safety. eventually, since you wouldn’t stop nagging about it he gave in.

sunghoon failed to make it seem like he didn’t think it was a big deal— he’d gone overboard and bought you figure skates along with leggings and fuzzy socks. he was definitely more excited than you were internally.

- here, hun. these’ll keep you warm…

he hummed as he handed you your gift. you smiled up at him and put them on. the both of you got ready together and packed some things for your date. sunghoon made sure to pack any snacks you may have needed there as well as extra mittens. it had already been past 11pm, and the both of you weren’t tired at all.

you both began walking out of your shared apartment as sunghoon closed the door behind you, holding your needs. taking the elevator down, you couldn’t help but ask him a question.

- is anyone else gonna’ be there?

you smiled, he tugged onto your scarf, looking down at you and answered.

- no, just the two of us. i might’ve booked it for us only tonight—

at that you squealed into your boyfriends arms. he was perfect, he never missed to surprise you in anyway and he was so caring. this surprise just made you even more excited.

- oh my god! really? hoonie you’re perfect—

the elevator then opened letting you two out and walking to the car. he then placed your things in the backseat. then, opening your car door, letting you sit first followed by himself. you smiled at his act of service as he started the car.

the car ride was quiet, you had taken a small nap to gather more of your energy whilst your boyfriend did the hard work of driving in the dark. upon arrival, you couldn’t help but notice how huge the building had been. making you wonder how the rink would look. sunghoon guided you to the entrance, then brought you over to the changing room.

- uh— this is it , this is where i used to change all the time.

he recalled while placing your things down. he sat down next you and began tying up his skates.

- i can’t believe you’re really letting me see this, babe. this is all so interesting.

you hummed at him, staring at him for a moment then blankly at your skates. sunghoon then realized you were a rookie at this, you wouldn’t know how to tie on your skates properly—

- ahh, do you need help? i’ll help you.

he kneeled down to you and began putting the figure skates on your feet. untying and retying it tightly, he made sure they’d be tight enough to your liking. a smile lit up on your face as he looked up at you every now and then, verifying if you were comfortable. god, he was perfect.

- thank you, you really are the best!

you said softly. after a couple seconds, you attempted to stand up— you had almost fell, grabbing onto his tall figures jacket, you yelped.

- okay now, how am i supposed to make it to the rink babe.

you chuckled, still holding your grip on him. he couldn’t help but laugh at your behaviour a bit— you were so adorable to him, the way you acted, your beauty and especially that laugh of yours.

- how bout’— i carry you there, hm? that good enough for you, princess?

he cooed, as he bent over for a piggyback. you playfully hopped on and whispered him a little ‘thank you’ in his ear making him smile even more. you weren’t heavy to him, your small frame made it easier for him to touch you in any way physically as well as having fun with you.

as you both arrived to the ice, he set you down on the concrete slab infront of of the ice. he held your hand tightly before making any sudden movement.

- you ready ?

he smiled at you, grip tightening on your hand.

- i— um, yes okay. please guide me ?

you stuttered. at that he brought himself and your legs to the ice. you held onto his hand in order not to slip and fall. he glided around as you held the hem of his coat, forcing you to follow along. your body couldn’t let you move, you’d been to scared to even take a step— or at least glide on the ice.

your boyfriend skated infront of you and took out his hands, indicating you to hold on to both of them. you placed your hands in his as he slowly backed himself up, getting you to take ‘baby’ steps.

- try and follow my lead, slowly take some mini steps— okay?

he spoke softly, you nodded and began attempting to glide a bit. you held onto him tighter if you felt as if you would fumble or slip— as you slowly got used to the feeling of the ice, he let your hands go sending a wave of surprise through your body and a smile forming on his lips.

you attempted to keep going towards him, smiling between each step you took. he then pulled out his phone and took a couple cute pictures of you, you posed and laughed. sunghoon couldn’t help but laugh at you too, he glided in front of you and took your arm. you followed his lead because, obviously he was the professional.

- i think i’m getting better honestly.

you chuckled as you glided away with him almost slipping.

- hm’ yeah i think so too… sure—

- are you mocking me ?

you cocked your head,

- no’ you just aren’t a pro yet, babe.

he laughed to himself and at you.

- i’ll literally do a spin right now— let me go!

you skated away rolling your eyes.

- be careful—

before he could finish his sentence, you attempted to do a turn. you honestly had just shifted your body slowly in a 360, hands in a pirouette position. then you glided right back into his arms.

- are you proud of yourself?

- i think i did pretty good, if i say so myself.

you gave him a smug look after that ‘performance’ of yours. he laughed at himself and spoke again,

- i mean wow, you might actually be better than i thought. guess i have some competition now, hm?

you nodded at him confidently, crossing your arms.

- now you do something cool ! go, i wanna see you twirl.

you empathized on the ‘twirl’ as he brought himself away from you. your beautiful boyfriend then began spinning casually and into a sit spin. his skills shocked you, you gasped a hand covering your mouth. he slowed himself down and got back up next to you.

- that was, beautifully done oh my—

- told ya’

he winked playfully at you. sunghoon then cupped your face and leaned in, feeling your soft skin. your lips met, as the initial touch of our mouths sent a shiver down your spine. the kiss deepened, as he pulled you a little closer. your bodies pressed tightly against each other. the cold air outside being forgotten, as the warmth between you grew intense.

you shared this intimate moment on the ice, surrounded by nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths and the occasional soft laughters.

- you’re perfect,

he said, you couldn’t help but blush at his words and cover your face. you slapped him playfully and hugged him.

- do you want to go home ? get some hot chocolate ?

he asked you, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, staring at you very lovingly.

- mm’ sure. let’s stay a while though, i like this.

you smiled. after a while you both skat around and got tired as time passed by. you then mutually decided to go ahead and go back in the changing rooms to prepare yourselves to go back home.

- this was so fun, let’s do it again soon! please ?

you cheered while getting your boots back on.

- of course, anything for you.

he hummed, carrying all of your things as he opened the door for you.

you both made your way to the car and made a stop near a small coffee shop, luckily it was still opened.

- hey, can we please get two medium hot chocolates please ?

he asked, the cashier hummed and within a few minutes he gave you both your hot chocolates.

your boyfriend and you spent your time in the car rambling about his old skating buddies, life and more. you listened carefully to what he said and each detail. at some point, he eventually drove into the apartment's parking area and got out, opening the door for you. as you got home, you both took off your winter clothes and plopped yourselves on the sofa. you cuddled him, while trying to find a movie to watch to end the perfect night you had both spent together.

[naturesapphic]

Could u write a fic about little us using Billie’s tattoos as our personal colouring book pleaseee

Like some cutie little bonding time together!!

Coloring Tattoos

Mommy!billie eilish x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, fluff, brief mention of ED, fluff :)

Word count: 1,028

You were bored. Very very bored and you wanted your mommy’s attention. She was in the kitchen fixing you and her some lunch. You and shark were on the couch watching your favorite Barbie movie while you were waiting but you were getting impatient. “Mommy!?” You called out and not even five seconds later your mommy comes into the living room with a smile on her face. “Yes sweet girl?” She said as she leans against the wall with a crop top with some shorts as her brown hair has fallen over her shoulders.

She looked beautiful as ever and you didn’t realize you were staring until you felt fingers grip your chin softly. “It’s not nice to stare little one.” She said half jokingly while still having her smile on her lips. Your face flushed and your cheeks turned red “s-sorry mommy…chu jus so pretty.” You said as you looked into her eyes with admiration. Billie’s cheeks turned a dark shade of red and leant over to place a peck on your lips which made you all giddy. You absolutely loved your mommy’s kisses.

There was a ding that was heard and your mommy perked up at the sound of it. “Your vegan Dino nuggies are ready babygirl.” Billie said cheerfully as she got up and went to go get them. You squealed happily and clapped your hands in excitement at the mention of your favorite food. A few minutes later billie came out with a tray that had two plates filled with Dino nuggies, fries, and some ketchup on the side. “Yayyyyy! Mommy has somes toos!” You said happily and Billie lets out a cute giggle at your excitement. “Of course I do! I love me some Dino nuggies!” She exclaimed and made a funny face at you which caused you to giggle.

“Alright babygirl let’s go ahead and eat…and if you eat all your food like a good girl. I’ll let you color in my tattoos.” Billie said trying to persuade you. She knew about your struggle with food and she always tries to help you with that, especially when you are in your little space. “Otay mommy!” You said happily as you start to eat your Dino nuggies and fries. Billie eats with you and watches your Barbie movie with her. By the time you were done, all of your food on your plate was gone besides a few crumbs and some leftover ketchup. “Wook mommy wook! I dids it!” You said happily as you showed your mommy your clean plate.

“Oh wow! Good job little one! Oh mommy is so so so proud of you!” Billie gushes as she sits you on her lap and starts planting kisses all over your face. You squeal and start giggling at the attack of kisses you were receiving. “Mama!! T-tickles!” You squeak out and she pulls away with a smile on her face. “Sorry princess. Mommy is just so happy. So…what markers do you wanna use?” She asked and you beamed up at her. You got off her lap and ran to your playroom to grab your favorite markers. You ran back and sat on the couch beside your mommy as she grins at you.

“Where do you want to start first babygirl?” Your mommy asked and you thought for a moment before your face lights up. “Dragon dragon! Pweasie mommy!” You begged her and she nodded, pulling her shorts farther up so you could see the full dragon. You clapped happily and started coloring in the dragon and made it bolder with your black marker. While you were coloring in her tattoo, she had her phone out filming this. She probably would only show her close friends and family members and that’s pretty much it. Everyone knows how private she is and this is a special moment she would only share to the people who are closest to her.

You got done coloring the dragon and put your markers down to show your mommy. “Mommy wook! I colored it! Is it pretty mama?” You asked her with doe eyes and she felt herself melt. She looks down at what you did and gasped loudly. “It’s beautiful baby! I need to take a picture!” She exclaimed and took her phone out again to snap a picture. “Now…which one would you like to do now baby?” Billie asked and you immediately pointed to her hand. She smiled and gave you her hand and you immediately started coloring it.

Billie admired you while you got to work and put her free hand on your cheek, softly rubbing the soft skin. Another few moments have past and you were finishing up on her fairies and you beamed up at her once more. “Do chu wikes it mama?” You asked her again as you were always nervous that your mommy wouldn’t like what you create but she always does. She always says that you worry your pretty head off and it’s true. “Of course my baby! My little princess is so talented. I need to take another picture!” She gushed and took a photo of her colored fairy tattoo. You started rubbing your eyes and yawning, which means it’s about your nap time.

“Why don’t you get some rest baby. You can color some more later okay princess?” Billie said and you nodded your head, crawling into her lap and laying on her pillowy breast. Billie wraps her arms around you and places her left hand on your butt, softly patting it, as her right hand is cupping the back of your head. Your left arm is hanging off Billie’s waist while your other hand is placed on her right boob. She smiles down at you as you fall into a deep slumber. “Rest well my little baby. Mommy loves you…” she whispers against your ear and placed a soft kiss against it.

A/n: please don’t send me anymore request. I’ll be getting to the three chicken date thing request and some mommy!billie and stuff. I have so much in my inbox rn but I do appreciate them and you. I hope the anon enjoyed it and I hope the rest of y’all do too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all!

[deadghosy]

hear me out, really little sibling reader and older sibling boy go fruit picking, be it strawberries or oranges or what have you. piggy back rides to reach the high fruits just really sweet sibling bonding -🦇

˗ˏˋ 🍓 ˎˊ˗

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞.

Warning: very fluffy small little imagines and how strawberry picking with Lorenzo is.

Details: age of reader is 5 years old while Lorenzo is 17 in this.

A/n: thank you 🦇 anon for this request! This was my favorite thing to write about 🫶🏾 enjoy

You always wanted to go strawberry picking with your brother. But with him being in Hogwarts and doing work, you thought he wouldn’t have any time for you.

Only for you to be wrong when he shows up during the holiday to spend time with his beloved little sibling.

When you asked what he wanted to do after unpacking his things. He remembered how you wrote to him about how you always wanted to go strawberry picking. He smiled picking you up. Lifting you up like the lion muggle movie called "lion king". “Let’s go strawberry picking love.” You were immediately struck with a wave of happiness and excitement. You started to squealed of delight. Lorenzo smiled at your excitement. You both told your parents about what you two were gonna do tomorrow as Lorenzo had secretly packed some hats to blind you both from the sun.

As the morning rolled, Enzo sprayed you up and down with sunscreen. He did himself afterwards whilst you grabbed a sun hat he bought for you. You two soon rolled out. Making it to the strawberry fields was an amazing sight as you gripped the hand they held yours. “Bub! Bub! Look at all those pretty berries!!” You said jumping up and down. Enzo smiled softly at you. “Yes love, look at how juicy and sweet they are.” Your mouth started to water, and Lorenzo knew as well. “Alright lovely, let’s get to picking!” Enzo pulled out two baskets. One large for him, and a small one for you. You immediately let go of his hand and started to hand pick every single strawberry you seen. Seconds turned into minutes into an hour. Lorenzo was by your side picking the fresh strawberries beside you. He loves that innocent glint in your eyes, he loved making you happy and making sure you had a good holiday with him. To him, this was making up time for how he didn’t spend much with you. He also hated how he couldn’t see you much. You two were stuck to the hip ever since your birth.

A squeal broke his train of thought when he sees you running at him with a big strawberry. “Enzy! Enzy! Look what I got!” Lorenzo kneeled down to your height to take the strawberry you held out to him. “Oh my! This is a big one!” “I know right!” You were proud to find a big one. “Guess this means we can make a strawberry cake, won’t we?” Lorenzo had a grin, a grin with a big thought as he held it up to your face. “Yes!” “Well let’s go!” Lorenzo picked you up and put you onto his back. You laughing out loud made Enzo smiled harder. He starts to make airplane noises and run through the strawberry field. You both didn’t care for the weirded out looks. What only mattered was you two getting some time together as family.

And you two were loving every moment.

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬!: 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

Imagine Lorenzo making you a small strawberry shortcake after an hour of picking strawberries. A well reward for picking the biggest strawberry.

You and Lorenzo making a mess of the kitchen, laughter thrown around as you splash Enzo with flour

You making a smile face out of a flour pile. Enzo moved by you to almost make his own smile face out of flour.

Imagine Lorenzo making sure you don’t get a big piece so you don’t choke on it. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t watch what you ate.

You and Lorenzo watching some muggle cartoons he got from a store with the strawberries. He knows you liked comic books and visual things, so he got them for you.

You bragging tonight about how you picked the biggest berry before him.

You flicking a small strawberry into Lorenzo’s shirt, making him arch his back and try to get it out.

Lorenzo throwing a bigger strawberry at your face making you two go into a strawberry fight

Imagine you and Lorenzo playing with the strawberries like Barbie dolls to pass a little bit of time.

You eating the last few strawberries and being full as Lorenzo laughed at how you hiccuped from eating all them. He soon picked you up and laid you down as you usually sleep after eating.

[wizzdot]

As a continuation/prelude to the last lil’ short fic…

Here is the build up to John getting caught!!!

Drabble + pics below the cut

This is your first attempt of cookies. Something went badly wrong. Kyle complained that he didn’t feel well for 24 hours after eating them. Johnny said they were nice. Simon and John steered well clear, apparently they thought they were slightly raw and didn’t “look right”… shrug 🤷🏼‍♀️

So you changed the recipe up slightly and managed these bad boys! Look!! They’re individual lil’ cookies. So proud!!! Johnny said that they were delicious and Kyle just said that he was full after a couple of bites and was not hungry enough to finish a whole cookie. Simon asked why they looked sort of oily.. you didn’t have an answer to that question but he took one to his room anyway. Another cookie fell victim to his bedroom bin that night. John still did not even try one, although he did smile that sweet little smile of his and tell you that you were doing a good job and looked like you were improving with every try.

Then you managed to come up with this batch. You were really upset with yourself. Apart from the little burnt bits, they would have been PERFECT!!! Darn!! You knew you shouldn’t have started reading a book while they were in the oven. Got sidelined and didn’t realise until the smell of burning filled the air. Simon was the one who pulled them from the oven. “Not bad!” He commented as he placed the tray down on the cooling rack. “Really?!” You replied, excited. “Apart from the black bits” he grunted. Johnny crunched into one while it was still hot. It sounded like he was chewing on rocks, you didn’t even want to lie to yourself. Kyle took the least burnt one he could find and bit into it before hissing and complaining about his poor teeth. Little bitch boy. John chuckled at his reaction but still made no move to try your baking. He squeezed your shoulder and reassured you that “they would have been perfect if you didn’t get distracted, Love”. Another cookie was missing the next morning. Simon wouldn’t admit it, but they weren’t bad. Shame they got burnt really…

Your first attempt of a sponge cake came out like this. Turns out you didn’t use the right type of flour… who would have known there was special cake flour?! Anyway, Johnny liked it. Dipped it in melted chocolate and said it was delicious. Kyle had a small slice and went back for second. That must mean it was nice!! He didn’t tell you that he was fuckin’ starving and would have eaten anything. Simon took a slice to his room again. He was confused as to why it tasted stale even though it was freshly baked. Weird. John squeezes your shoulder again and told you that it was a good first attempt. Still didn’t try any though.. ☹️

This is your second attempt at a sponge. The one you accidentally used salt instead of sugar for. It looked better though… right?! Johnny devoured it, as usual, with Simon shaking his head in disapproval. “Think you’ve put salt in this” Kyle said, politely spitting his mouthful into a napkin and wiping the salt remnants from his tongue. “What..?! No way…?!” You say, upset. “Nah mate, tastes fine to me” Johnny reassured, taking another big bite. When Simon tried it later, in private, he couldn’t believe Johnny was managing to swallow it without flinching.

When this attempt came out of the oven, the taskforce all looked at each other with surprised faces. Even more so when you cut into it and it was a beautiful golden colour. You squealed in joy. “This is the one! Isn’t it perfect?!” You squeaked, jumping up and down happily. Johnny moaned as he took a bite of his slice. Kyle’s eyes opened wide and he complimented the sponge “this is, by far, the best one yet.. you’ve excelled!” Simon took a large slice to his room and ate the whole thing. The next morning he caught you in the gym doing physio for your injured shoulder. “The cake was good” is all he said, but it made you giddy for the rest of the day.

This was your first attempt icing and decorating. You still aren’t sure why it fell apart but Kyle said it could have been because of the moisture from the icing made the sponge too wet. He said it still tasted good though. You still couldn’t get John to try any of your baking though. He kept coming up with bullshit excuses about being on a diet or that he’d already eaten. That made you sad!

Another attempt of decorating… Johnny and Kyle had planned a star wars themed movie night seeing as the team had a few days off from missions. What better way to celebrate than decorating your cake to look like Yoda?! “Jesus Christ, what the fuck is that?!” Simon said as he visibly recoiled at the site of the cake. “It’s yoda..” you responded, a little down trodden by his reaction before Johnny came barrelling in - “holy fuck, you’ve made a yoda cake!!! Kyle come look!!! She’s made a fuckin yoda cake!!!” Johnny bellowed through the entire base. John walks in.

“W-wow” is all he managed.

This chocolate cake still gets spoken about to this day!!! It was a total hit. Kyle and Johnny looked like Bruce from the Matilda movie after they’d had quarter of the cake each!! Simon ate a slice and reported back positively the following morning. You put the rest of the cake in the fridge overnight and when you went to make tea the following morning, you could have sworn there was another slice gone. John may or may not have been responsible, but he didn’t say anything. You weren’t to know that you’d catch him red handed the following week…

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VII)

Pairing | Eddie Munson x shy!reader

Warnings | 18+ only, do not interact if you are underage. Heavy petting, P in V sex, soft dom!Eddie. Discussion of uncomfortable sexual experiences. Inordinate amount of praise kink, good girl's, and vulnerability on both sides.

Word count | ~10,000

Taglist

Previous Chapter

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

Most days, walking into the cafeteria comes with a cool sense of dread. A heaviness in your chest, mind working overtime to prepare yourself for an hour not quite talking with your not quite friends. You’re never sure what you prefer; the white hot shame that comes with laughter at your expense, or the simmering ache from being ignored entirely.

But there’s a levity to your mood today. You’re proud, or maybe more accurately relieved, at the circled red letter on the top right of your Chemistry test. 

You spot May at the usual table as you file in, catching her excited wave over the head of some of the cheer girls. The others offer a cursory glance before returning to their conversation, but May’s expression is expectant. “So? How’d you do?”

You grin. “A minus.”

“I knew it!” She squeals, removing her bag from the chair next to her to make space for you. “You always make a big deal out of tests, and then breeze through!”

She’s half right. 

Something about the weight of potential failure, some unknown consequence to doing poorly, always has you worrying about tests days prior, heart pounding in the moments before you flip the paper. Then you second guess yourself all the way through, scribbling over wrong answers before writing the same thing down again.  

But you certainly don’t breeze through. The weight of this test on your mind had you bursting into tears in Eddie’s van last week. What was supposed to be a movie theatre date turned into an impromptu study session at the library. Eddie sat opposite you while you read over your notes, writing up his campaign ideas and flicking through a book he’d found in the fantasy section before working begrudgingly on an essay about JFK he was supposed to have handed in the week before. He switched to the seat next to you when you failed to hide a sniffle, let you tuck yourself under his arm and press your face to his shoulder.

“C’mon,” he said eventually, coaxing you out from the damp spot on the collar of his shirt. “Talk me through what you don’t get, okay? I bet the answer’s up here.” He pressed a finger to your forehead, narrowing his eyes like he could pinpoint the spot in your brain the information was hiding. “We just gotta knock it loose somehow.”

He must, truly, have been bored to death as you went through the problem, starting over again and again each time you explained yourself into a corner. But he listened anyway, prompted you to keep going until you came to an answer that satisfied you, a conclusion that made sense, and then he listened to the next problem.

You apologised at the end of the night. For all the hysterics, for dragging him along to a joyless evening. He’d swiped the thought away with a casual wave of his hand. “You couldn’t be my smart girl if you didn’t have to study sometimes.”

Just thinking about it now, your eyes flicker from May’s hand on the back of the empty chair beside her to the place Eddie sits, far on the other side of the room. 

It’s an invisible line you haven’t crossed, spending any time with him at lunch. Eddie would never let you question whether he wanted you to sit with him, never let you worry about seeming clingy. He’d made it clear you were always welcome. What stopped you was that tug at your heart, that feeling that you’d be taking another step away, putting more distance between you and your friends. Or May, at least. You can’t remember the last time Heather sat with you more than once a week. 

And you promised, sincerely, that you would try a bit harder with the cheer girls. Apart from that one tipsy conversation with Tracy at a party, you’re not sure you’ve quite fulfilled that.

But you want so badly to tell him. Shamefully, it was your first thought when you turned your paper over today. Along with the usual relief came excitement, knowing Eddie would be pleased for you and make it clear, call you his smart girl till your face burns hot. 

“I’m just-” You start, tucking your bag up on your shoulder, glancing back to May. “I’m just gonna show Eddie quickly.”

There’s a pause. Her pleased expression, the gentle curve of her wax pink lips, doesn’t falter. Instead, it seems to calcify on her face. “Oh. You’re gonna sit over there?”

“Just for a while,” you reason. “Just to show him my grade. Okay?”

She makes a high mm hmm noise, half agreeing, half unsure, but you decide to take it at face value, making a beeline for Eddie’s table. 

As usual, he sits at the head, the frizz of his hair lit up in the natural light from the window behind him. His expression is a touch bored, eyes blinking slowly, chin resting on his palm as a boy at the other end of the table - young, with tight brown curls tucked under a yellow cap - talks a mile a minute. You catch the words radio and roof as you approach, but your own mind goes blank when you reach them.

You’d feel only excitement, if it was just Eddie who noticed your presence. For his part, his whole posture changes; from slumped over the table to sitting straight up, his pouty lips turning to an excited smile in your direction as his hand drops away from his chin. But on top of that, six additional faces turn to watch you walk up the side of the table. Maybe you could handle three, used to some attention from Jeff, Gareth and Matthew at this point, comfortable in their acceptance of your silly little fidgets and occasional long silences. 

But the other three, all freshmen, staring at you like you grew another head on the way over, have you shuffling in place, playing with the strap of your bag. You vaguely know Mike from watching him run out the door on the occasions you’ve babysat Holly, though his hair is a good couple inches longer than the last time you spent an evening at the Wheeler’s. The others, Lucas and Dustin, you know both from Eddie’s descriptions and his complaints. 

“Hi,” you say, voice quieter than you’d like as you wave at the group. 

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Princess?” 

Your mouth opens, and your throat closes. Your face feels suddenly warm under the eyes of his whole table. In an instant, you regret coming over here. What must you look like? What will they think of you, when they realise you came over here to brag about a simple test result? 

Eddie hums a questioning sound, bringing your focus back to him. He’s looking at you the way he does when you both know you’re going to have to be the one to speak first. There’s anticipation there, but the little curve of his lips is all kind patience. 

You swallow, glance down the table again. You make eye contact with Lucas, give him an awkward smile at his friendly wave. Even at that, you know the words won’t come. Sighing quietly, you unzip your bag and search through your books for the test, drawing out the paper and fiddling with the corner for a second. How do you tell him, all of them, that you really aren’t bragging? That more than anything you just want to thank him? 

Eddie’s eyebrows raise as he looks between you and the paper. When he holds his hand out, and you find yourself passing it to him instinctively, toes curling in your shoes.

“An A!?” He screeches immediately, thoroughly dispelling any hope you might have had that he’d keep it to himself. Though your face burns, you fight the urge to glance around and offer an apologetic smile to his group, to the people that turned at the sound of his yell, because this is Eddie. Any embarrassment you might feel pales in comparison to hearing the pride in his voice, to see it on his face. What do judgmental looks and cruel whispers from strangers mean to you when they’re caused by Eddie, so excited and pleased for you that he’ll yell it publicly?

You tuck the top of your foot to the back of your ankle, playing with your skirt, correcting him shyly. “An A minus.”

Eddie scoffs. “An A’s and A, sweetheart. I’d know, I’ve missed enough of them.” 

Knowing now that at least Eddie himself has taken it the right way, you let yourself indulge. “I was two marks off a real A.”

Eddie’s hand slams down on the table with a bang, making you and everyone in the surrounding area jump as he rises, kicking his chair back with a screech. You watch, left in some strange place between proud and mortified as he practically floats over to the neighbouring table, flicking the paper at a group of juniors dressed exclusively in neon. 

“You see that? My girlfriend got a fucking A in Mr Brown’s AP Chemistry class!” He moves the paper around, displaying it for each of them. “That shit’s like fucking gold dust- hey!” He turns to shake it at a passing boy with a calculator in his breast pocket. “You’re in that class, right? How’d you do in this test, huh?” 

“If you must know, Munson, I got an A plus.” 

There’s a moment of silence.

“Okay, man. Shit. Kinda showing off a little-” He turns to you, eyes wide and head tilted as if to say get a load of this guy, but you’re shaking your head, desperately biting back a smile. 

“Eddie!” 

“Ah, she calls to me.” He drifts over to you then, frizzed hair flying out behind him. You giggle a little wildly behind your hands, still shaking your head at him though any disapproval is for show at this point. Everyone who turned to watch Eddie crow seems to have returned to their conversations, this side of the room apparently well used to his outbursts. He stops close enough that he’s all you can see; his dimpled smile, eyes shining at you while he hands you your test back. 

“Take my seat, Princess.” He gestures with a wide arm, directing you to the chair he rose from. You make a quick glance over at the cheer table, find Caroline just sitting down now with her tray, and feel an unusual sense of relief. It feels like freedom, to be on this side of the room, and not directly under her gaze. 

By the time you’re settled in his seat, Eddie has retrieved a spare chair, carrying it above his head and dropping it down next to you with another outrageous bash. He collapses into it, his arm finding the back of your chair as he leans in to Jeff, sitting on your left. “You’re in that class, too, right man?” 

“You know, we’ve been friends three years now, Eddie, and you’ve never once taken an interest in my grades,” Jeff answers, shutting down Eddie’s inquiry before he can really ask. He turns to you. “Bet it was question 18 that got you, huh?”

“Mm, no, that was okay.” You answer. “Eddie and I went over retention factors so much at the library last week. I understand it way better now.”

Six pairs of eyes blink at you, and the relief you were experiencing is fading fast. Instead, you get the recognizable sense that you said something wrong. Your foot starts tapping at pace, fingers finding the edge of the table and running over the edge.

“You were at the library?” Gareth asks Eddie, aghast tone mocking but serious in its surprise.

“I’ve been to the library before,” Eddie bites. “M’there all the time.”

“We’re not talking about monopolising the fantasy section, here,” Matthew says. “You were studying, Eds.”

“I told you,” Eddie replies, widening his legs until you feel the denim of his jeans rough against your bobbing calf. “I’m working hard this year. Trying to get out of this shithole.” He presses his leg more firmly to yours, and you realise it’s a deliberate touch, a silent reminder that he’s there, that he’s not going to leave you alone with whatever’s got you fidgeting.  

“You said that last year,” Jeff says.

“And the year before that,” chimes Gareth through a bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, well, I meant it this time,” he says, leaning back in his seat with a deep sigh. “Jesus, Henderson, you look like you’re gonna explode. Go on. So you’ve built your stereo on the roof.”

“Not a stereo, Eddie- a radio!” Dustin cries through a mouthful of cafeteria lasagne. 

Eddie’s face darkens. “Do I look like I give a- Christ.” He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head with genuine frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, man. Please, please, just finish your story so we can all move on with our lives.”

Undeterred by Eddie’s rough tone, Dustin launches right back into what he’d been speaking about as you approached. Mainly focused on how he convinced his Mom to let him up on the roof in the first place.

You sigh in quiet relief as the attention of the table moves swiftly away from you, leg slowing until it stops shaking altogether. Eddie’s knee bumps yours, and you feel the warmth of him as he leans in to speak softly, just to you.

“My smart girl,” he says, drawing pleased shivers up your spine. “You deserve it, yeah? You worked real hard.”

“I wanted,” you start, grabbing at his sleeve, thumbing the chain that holds the leather together. “I wanted to say thank you for helping me. I know it was kinda boring.”

“Nah, glad I could help.” Eddie’s expression turns a touch sheepish. “I, uh, actually got a C on that History essay? Mrs Kelly said I would have got a B, if I’d handed it in on time, so…” 

Your eyes widen, barely able to process the sight of him now. Eddie Munson, who just yelled across the room about your academic achievements, now looking anywhere but at you, scratching his face and shrugging like his own barely matter. You find his hand, squeeze it tight until he shows you his eyes.

“Eddie, that’s brilliant!” You say. He puffs out air like it means nothing to him, shakes his head. “When-” 

“You aren’t even listening, Eddie!” Dustin calls from the end of the table. Eddie rolls his eyes, but then he gestures ;azily for Dustin to continue, now with the gift of his attention. It’s enough for anyone to believe he finds the boy annoying at best, but you know from how Eddie talks about them that Dustin’s kind of his favourite. There’s a clear fondness in Eddie’s tone when he rants about Dustin trying to contribute ideas to his campaigns, the begrudging respect he has for how unapologetically himself the boy is. The touch of jealousy that creeps in when he talks about Dustin’s friendship with Steve Harrington, of all people. Badass, my ass, he mumbles each time.

You listen in comfortable silence to the conversation as it continues, occasionally contributing a little yes or no when Jeff asks you leading questions, your fondness for him ever increasing. Only when you watch Eddie retrieve a bag of pretzels from his backpack do you remember your own lunch, too taken in by the awe in Matthew’s voice recounting the first time he heard a Judas Priest song, apparently life changing.

You frown at the realisation that the half empty bag is all Eddie brought for himself, immediately offering your open tupperware and holding it steady under his shaking head until he acquiesces to tearing one half of your sandwich in two, chewing on the quarter in between his contributions to the conversation.

Your ears prick when you move on to tearing the segments from your satsuma, handing a half to Eddie without a word. Amongst the chatter, Mike laughs about Dustin’s current failing grade in Latin, an unusual outcome for him. Dustin sighs like an old man. 

“I ask you, how many tenses does one language need?” He groans. “I thought there’d be something we could use for a campaign, The Exorcist style, you know? Instead I’m trying to remember the difference between types of declensions. Or I will, when I fully grasp what declensions are.”

The conversation about Judas Priest you’d found yourself somewhat involved in fades with how much you’re focused on Dustin’s defeated tone. One part of you is screaming that you could help him, that he seems really worried about it and he’s a smart boy so it probably wouldn’t be much work to get him on the right track. Then another part, the one that screeches and wails its distress until your head hurts, asks, what if he says no? What if he laughs? What if they all do? 

You open your mouth, wondering if you should just say it across the table. Just offer; just do it. Of course he won’t say no. And if he does, he’s Eddie’s friend so it will be gentle. Still embarrassing though. Your mouth closes again, teeth digging grooves into the gum behind your lips. Just help him. You pull your sleeves down over your hands, playing with the soft ends. You clear your throat, take a breath-

“I’m good at Latin,” you say, immediately cringing at how that sounds. But you’re pleased when Jeff goes on chatting about the album he just bought, letting you contribute to the other conversation across the table freely. Dustin blinks at you owlishly. “I mean, I can help. Tutor you, or something? If you want.”

“Seriously!?” Dustin asks, flashing you a braced grin when you nod. “That would be amazing! Thanks!”

You smile, just sighing out your relief when you feel another nudge at your knee. Eddie’s watching you, eyebrows raised. You shrug shyly, grasping the sleeve of his jacket again to fiddle with the chains. He pulls free, but only to take hold of your hand instead. 

You’re basking in the feeling of knowing Eddie’s proud of you, your own pride in yourself, and you know you couldn’t force yourself back across the room today if you tried. 

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You realised, walking alone to class, that you hadn’t spoken that much during lunch the entire time you’d been at highschool. Giggling at Lucas’ jokes, asking about their DnD characters, getting increasingly comfortable talking about metal with a group of people who are genuinely excited to hear about your introduction to the genre. By the end it felt almost natural; simple and fun to talk to an entire table of people.

But you’re feeling some of the effects of it now, even quieter than usual in Eddie’s van as Gareth considers whether to paint or sharpie the Corroded Coffin logo Eddie designed onto the front of his bass drum. 

From the soft hum you’d given in greeting as you climbed into the van after school, Eddie had offered you his palm, open and relaxed. Now, your forefinger traces the long groove from his wrist to the base of his thumb that forms his life line. You love Eddie’s hands, love how they feel in yours, and on every other part of you they’ve touched. 

You swallow, face suddenly hot. It’s been easier, nicer, every time Eddie’s touched you. So much so that you now understand why it’s all some people think about, all that drives them. The way Eddie feels inside you, all the words that spill from his mouth as he moves; how much he wants you, how good you make him feel. You find your mind circling back to it at the strangest times. In class, making dinner, driving home with Eddie’s friends-

You jump a little at the chorus of bye’s from the back, the sound of the doors being thrown open. Eddie’s already watching you curiously when you look back to him, unable to hold eye contact, half convinced he’ll be able to read your thoughts with one good look at you. “You okay, sweet thing?”

“M’just tired.”

“Right,” Eddie says, nodding thoughtfully. “The guys- they can be a little intense.”

Mirth spreads through you at the thought of Eddie ‘jumps on cafeteria tables’ Munson describing anyone as intense. “I like them.”

“You say that now. A week tutoring Dustin and you’ll be changing your name and moving to Idaho. I’ll never see you again, and it’ll be all that little punk’s fault.”

“He’s your favourite.”

Eddie’s tone goes from playful to offended in a second, as to close a screech as his deep voice can get. “He is not- I don’t even have- Even if I did have a favourite, which I don’t, Dustin Henderson would not even come close-” He pauses at the sound of your laugh, narrowing his eyes. “Mmh. I get it. Tired, but not too tired to rile me up.”

You chew the inside of your lip, fighting a smile. Running a finger along his palm again, you reply, “it’s not particularly difficult.” You expect another dramatic yell of offence, or maybe a laugh. Instead, you get something pleased from his expression, dimples on his cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing. I just like it when you tease me.” His fingers close around yours, weaving together. “S’like you’re more comfortable around me, I guess.” 

You’re sure he’s right. Every day it’s a little easier. Every time you see him, your mind gets in the way less and less, slowly coming to accept that he’s not waiting for you to say the wrong thing, that he won’t abandon you when you inevitably do. 

“You make me feel comfortable, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows raise, waiting for your quick nod. “Does that mean you’re coming back to mine?” 

“Actually,” you start, truly needing that comfort now. You know the implications of what you’re going to ask, sure that if somebody other than Eddie heard you, they’d come to conclusions about the kind of girl you are. 

The more time you spend with Eddie the less you’re sure that it matters if they would be right or wrong. 

You press your knees together, tap your fingers in a wave along Eddie’s knuckles. “Well, my parents aren’t home...”

There’s a second of silence, long enough to have you squirming, finding his dark eyes and then looking away again in a loop. 

Eddie leans into you, chin tilted to capture your gaze and keep you there. “You mean to say that the Princess’ tower is unguarded this night?” 

Your stomach squeezes at the sound of his voice, serious and soft, like a real adventurer on the verge of committing himself to a great quest. You love this about Eddie, how easily he can slip into characters like this. It’s something he learned from DnD, or maybe Eddie’s so good at the game because he has this ability to play at being somebody different without hesitation, without a hint of the worry you’d feel if you tried it, convinced you’d do it all wrong, sure you’d sound stupid. 

“No dragons for me to slay?” He asks, closing one eye like he’s trying to work out if you’re tricking him. Your head shakes, and Eddie turns your hand in his to bring it to his mouth. He kisses your knuckles, a soft warm press. “S'that what you want?”

“Yes, Eddie.” 

“Okay,” he says, lips meeting your hand once again. “To the castle, it is.”

Eddie is as quick as usual to drive you home, each turn forcing you to lean to the door or to the centre console. But any urgency seems to vanish the second he’s pulled up by your house. In the van, you wait as he makes sure he has his wallet and his keys, sets the sun visor back into position. When you've jumped out, you watch him check that he's locked each door of the van with more care than you've ever seen from him, like he's particularly worried about a carjacker on your suburban street in broad daylight. 

Inside, Eddie is careful about unlacing his shoes and placing them at the door next to yours, toed off your heels carelessly. Then, at the top of the stairs, when you think you finally have him at a regular pace towards your room, you are jolted back by his sudden stop on the landing, leaving your hands connected at the end of stretched arms. 

“‘M looking for anything I can use as a weapon, you know?” He says, peering into a vase of fake orchids, examining a glass seahorse statue, scrunching his nose when he gets hit with the scent from a bowl of potpourri. “This all feels a little too easy, and you’ve gotta expect the unexpected in situations like these.”

“Eddie?"

You’re so endeared to him, watching him examine the objects your Mom set out playing up to this story he’s created. But the way he’s stalling, almost hesitant, has you sure you missed a clear sign along the way. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you, like, not want to come here?” 

His head shoots up then, round eyes blinking. “Of course, I did. I do.” Eddie laughs airily, tucking some of his hair behind his ear as he approaches. “I’m a freak, okay? I’m not crazy.” 

You still feel like you’re missing something, wondering if you should offer him another way out. Eddie makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, inviting you to guide him forward. Walking slow to give him time to change his mind, you make your way to your door, decidedly not looking back at him when you enter.

Eddie is unusually quiet, then, following you in but stopping once again when he takes the first step onto your cream carpet. You only glance back at him when you’ve dropped his hand and started playing with your sleeves, comforted by the fact he just seems to be taking everything in. He stands out, all ragged denim and black leather in the pastel softness of your bedroom, and yet he fits so well in a room full of things you love. 

He shifts his weight back and forth on the soft carpet, subtly sniffs the air that must smell of you and the apple blossom diffuser on your side table. His eyes drift as he takes in each focal point; the desk laden with textbooks and paper, your windowsill, lined with a couple snow globes, a ceramic cat you’d painted as a child, a framed photo of you and your friends Heather gave you for your 16th. He scans quickly over the cork boards to the corner of the room, smile lines appearing at the sight of your long favourite stuffed animal, a soft grey elephant you’d carefully positioned on a pink cord beanbag, looking ready to start reading judging by the pile of books to her right.

His gaze eventually circles back to you, waiting nervously for his reaction. Eddie shifts back and forth on his feet. “You know, I, uh, gotta admit, I imagined some stained glass.” He gestures lazily to the window, then to your bed, the wooden frame and the blue floral bedspread. “And I was sure you’d have one of those beds with all the fabric, you know what I’m talking about?” He raises both hands to motion the shape of a canopy bed, fingers wiggling. 

“Disappointed?” You say, only half joking. 

Eddie finally takes a step further in, turning to the shelves of books by your bed. “Me? Nah I was worried about getting tangled up in it, to be honest.” He flashes you a quick grin before scanning over the spines. Eventually, he points to one. “Iron Maiden, yeah?”

You check the book he’s pointing to, The Complete Poems of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and nod, always pleased by the reminder that Eddie listens, really listens, when you speak. That he remembers so many innocuous things you share with him, things you’d never expect him to remember. 

You badly want to reach out for him then, fingers itching to hold his hand, play with his sleeves. You almost do, raising your arm a touch, but a wave of concern hits you, still trying to work out if you’ve done something, said something wrong to make him act like he’d rather not be here. 

Eddie catches your stunted movement, eyes blinking at your fidgeting hands before shifting to your face. You’re sure then that your anxiety is clear in your expression, that he sees how eagerly you’re waiting for him to give you an explanation for his hesitancy in the hallway.

Eddie frowns, looking at the books again. He clears his throat. "I've never been in a girls' room before," he tells you. From his voice, it sounds like a confession.

“Oh.” Your brows furrow, trying to work out how that matters. “I mean, they’re not all like this.”

"No, I mean, it’s just that it’s like, a first. For me.” When that doesn’t quite cover your confusion, he continues. “Nobody ever wanted, y'know, me in their room. Or whatever."

Your heart pangs with sudden understanding, the memory of Eddie lying across from you on a blanket, the warm sun on your skin. Am I being too intense? That's what Eddie had asked you, that day at the lake. People say I can be too much too soon. 

“And it’s already different, with you. Better. I mean, shit, a million times better,” he says, eyes wide. “But I still just didn’t expect you to, just, ask me, like- Like, you just want me here. Cause it’s never been that simple. Shit. I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

“No. No, Eddie,”

“I didn’t wanna make you worried or anything. It’s the complete last thing I’d ever want. I guess I was kinda just waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He laughs again, but it’s hollow, and cuts off too suddenly to be real. 

You give in entirely, practically launching at him to wrap your arms around his torso and pull him into a tight, desperate hug. You wish, not for the first time, that you were more like him, better at getting your thoughts into words and saying them.Then you could soothe him like he deserves. Then you could tell him the truth. 

Eddie’s face presses to your hair, arms tight around your shoulders. 

“Eddie,” you murmur into his shoulder, squeezing him again before you build the courage to look him in the eyes. “You’re so-” Your throat tightens, forcing you to whisper. “You’re so good.” It seems lacklustre, probably a million better words to describe all that Eddie is, but it feels right; it’s what you think, that Eddie is, deep at his core, so good that it hurts. “You’re too good, too good for anyone that made you think-” Your voice cracks, and Eddie blinks shining eyes at you when you reach up to stroke his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, pressing his face to your palm. “I’m okay. Really.”

You press your lips to his, hoping he understands this at least. You feel his smile, and believe that he does. He hums as you shift your kisses to the corner of his mouth, his cheeks. You peck the end of his nose, watch it scrunch sweetly. You’re warmed by the sight of his reddening face, the sound of his laugh. “You know how to make a guy feel appreciated, sweetheart.”

Your hands seem incapable of moving from him, only moving from his cheek to his shoulders, wrists tickled by the fluffy ends of his curls. “I want you here,” you say, a little strained. “I promise.”

“I know. I know you do.”

“I would have invited you earlier,” you continue. “It’s just…”

Eddie’s eyes flash. His hands, big and warm, rub up and down your back, pulling you closer to him until you’re flush against his chest. “It’s just, we couldn’t have done what you want to do,” he finishes. “Not with your parents downstairs. That’s right, isn’t it?”

Your stomach twists with that exciting shame, face hot. You don’t have anywhere to hide, caught by Eddie’s gaze. You still can’t look into his eyes for too long, lest your heart beat out your chest, so you find yourself staring at his lips, pillowy and pink. “Not just that.”

“Okay,” he answers, hand drifting down to skim the end of your skirt. You press closer to him when his fingers tease the soft skin of your thighs, and he breathes a laugh. “But, mainly that, huh?” 

Your fingers curl into his shoulders, embarrassed and excited in equal measure that he’s naming your intentions so clearly. You bounce a little on your toes, still gazing at Eddie’s lips, the dents of his laugh lines and his dimples.

Callused fingers reaching under your skirt, his thumb grazing the cotton of your panties, pulling at the elastic. You think you’re being subtle, the way you open your legs a little to make space for him, but know immediately that you failed when Eddie laughs, eyes crinkled at the sides. He breathes a sigh, watching you lose the last pretence that you aren’t a little desperate for him to touch you how he wants. “My good girl.”

Oh, but that makes you ache for him. Your head drops to his neck, hiding your face in his skin. You breathe him in, smoke and Eddie, swallowing a whimper.

“You like that, don't you? Like being a good girl.”

You nod on impulse, willing to agree to just about anything when his fingers drag over your mound, press to the split of your pussy through your panties, the material just grazing your clit. But something about what he's said isn't quite right, and you start shaking your head instead.

Eddie's mouth finds your ear, warm breath teasing the sensitive skin at the top of your neck. "No? Not a good girl?" 

You shake your head again, because that's not right either. You tilt your face to catch his gaze, ink dark eyes already waiting for you. "I like-" You sigh when his fingers catch at the fabric that sits at the top of your sex again, giving a single teasing circle that helps you relax enough to tell him the truth of it. “It’s for you, Eddie.”

"Ah," Eddie breathes, finally, finally dipping his fingers past the elastic of your panties. He hums his approval when he finds your clit, swollen and waiting for him. He gives you one tap just to see you pout, then he’s rubbing tight circles that have you trying to press even closer to him, nails digging into his shoulders. “My good girl, mm?" 

"Yeah," you nod desperately, proud to see how pleased he looks with you. "Yes, Eddie." 

"That's right." He continues, watching your face as your lips open to moan softly, eyelids flickering. His fingers dip quickly to your entrance, dragging slick up to ease the way for his fingers on your button. “Just for me. Cause I'm the one who gets to touch you," he says. "Only I get to hear you like this, yeah? Hear you begging me with that pretty voice?" 

"Only you. Please, Eddie." 

“S’cause you know I’m gonna take care of you, don’t you, sweet thing? You and this pretty pussy?”

Eddie's fingers keep rubbing at your clit, pulling sensations from your body that only he ever has. Staring at him, hearing his rough voice even as he looks at you like you’re precious, you feel it again, as you have with increasing frequency. How badly you want him like this and every other way. It almost overwhelms you, makes you want to hide away again in his shoulder. But Eddie is owed the sight of the pleasure he brings you, deserves to see it play out on your face, hear every whimper clearly. Eddie coos softly at the sight of you, his free hand coming to support the back of your neck, nodding you through each shaking breath. “That’s it. That’s it. You gonna cum?”

A tremble moves through your body, hips rolling against his hand as you groan into the air. The high builds to a long, half painful peak, your hands grasping at Eddie’s t-shirt, his hair, first for something to hold on to, then because the resulting groan has your cunt clenching around nothing. It crosses over into too much suddenly, twitching away from his hand between your legs even as you give in and throw your face to his neck, kissing your gratitude all over the pale column of his throat. You find his pulse, feel its steady beat under your lips, and bite. It’s little more than a scrape of your teeth, but Eddie shudders in your arms, tilting his head back to let you soothe the bruised skin with your tongue, then kisses. 

You sigh deep, relaxing your death grip on his body while Eddie kisses at your sweaty temple. You peek at him then, find the warm brown of his irises swallowed up by darkness, his tongue licking quick over his bitten dark lips. He pulls his hand from your panties, showing you the remnants of your slick on his fingers before licking at his ring finger. “Always taste so good, baby. Wanna try?”

“Uh huh,” you say, head fuzzy with pleasure. Your mouth drops open for him, letting him press his middle finger to your tongue. You close your lips around it, sucking gently. You don’t think it tastes of much at all, but Eddie seems suddenly desperate to get at what he’s given you. He drags his finger from your mouth and captures your lips before you’ve even registered the loss, his tongue licking at yours like he can steal the taste of you back. “That what you were thinking of when you invited me up here, mm?” He says when he breaks away, lips still grazing yours as he speaks. “Or do you want more?”

You do want more. You want Eddie. Want him filling you with the length you can feel, hardening against your thigh. You want to make him feel good, want to hear him groan when he cums. “More, Eddie,” you whisper without shame. “Please.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning in for another desperate kiss, taking advantage of your pliant state to open your mouth to him. “Fuck. I wanna bend you over so bad,” he admits, watching your face for your reaction. “You want that? Want me to fuck you like that in your pretty princess bed?” 

Your toes curl, clit throbbing at the playful tone of Eddie’s voice, teasing and rough. “Mm. Okay.”

Eddie tilts his head, meeting your eyes, checking in. “Okay?”

You try to picture it, imagine how Eddie will feel fucking you that way. In truth, you’re stuck  on how vulnerable you’ll be; exposed, not able to see him or cling to him the way you like. But it’s Eddie, you assure yourself. You take a breath. “I want that, Eddie.” 

The kiss that follows is sweet. It’s a comforting reminder that no matter how much Eddie teases you, how rough he gets, he's still the boy who calls you princess, holds your hand in the car, promises to take care of you. 

He helps you remove your shirt from your heated skin, pulls his own over his head the second you start tugging at the hem. Once you have access to his skin, you can't stop touching him, palms flat to his chest, kissing his neck while he pulls your panties down over your hips. 

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he murmurs, turning you to face your bed. He kisses your shoulder, his body warm at your back. "Climb up for me, mm?"

You want to do what he says. You want him to touch you like this. But you still feel a prickle of nerves as you crawl up to your pillow, body exposed and missing Eddie’s skin already. 

“So pretty,” Eddie says above you, behind you, as you rest your chin on your curled arms on top of the mattress. You hear the clink of his belt, toes curling at the sound. Then you feel him through his boxers, hard and hot as he rolls his hips against your ass. You hear him whisper, shit, say something about protection. It's followed by a far off, satisfied a-ha at locating a condom in his discarded jacket, but it’s fuzzy beneath the sudden rushing in your ears. 

You feel him again, grinding against you, and you're not sure where all the excitement went. You’re staring at the blue cornflowers on your pillowcase while he continues behind you, remembering the last time you were positioned like this, tense and vulnerable. You try to breathe slow. When that doesn’t work, you try to let the heavy throb between your legs remind you how badly you want this.

It doesn't work, and you focus instead on feeling of just having to lie like this, get through it for him, just stare at the flowers and don't cry and he’ll be finished soon-

The pressure behind you disappears, the mattress shifts under you. Eddie bounces when he flops down beside you, face level with yours and hidden behind his flying hair. He makes soft puh noises like he’s trying to spit it out, blowing it away from his face. You blink, the white noise in your ears fading when you touch him, tucking his hair back behind his ear to find his grateful smile. 

“Thanks, baby,” he says. He reaches for your hip, rubbing soft as he presses your arched body down until you're lying, flat to the bed. Then, all heartbreaking gentleness; “where’d you go?”

You stumble, embarrassed. “I, I didn’t-”

“Stopped making those pretty noises for me," he reasons. “Isn't any fun without 'em." Your bottom lip shakes, and you feel like an idiot. 

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Not Andy, not some boy here for himself, only to take and never give. 

"Hey," he says, shuffling in until he can bump your nose with his. "We don’t have to do it like this if you don’t want. You know that, right? Don't have to do anything you don't want.”

“It’s not that, I-” You sigh, watch Eddie’s shining eyes, round and soft, waiting for you. “I needed to know it was you. I’m sorry.”

Recognition registers in his face. He frowns, cupping your face in his palm. “No apologies. Not about what you need, okay?”

“Okay, Eddie.”

“Wanna cuddle?” 

You do. Desperately. You reach out for him easily, shuffling until you're surrounded by him, clinging to his torso, cheek to his chest.

"Ah," Eddie breathes, wiggling like he can get his skin any closer to yours. "That's the good stuff." 

You hadn’t realised how fast, how hard your heart was beating until you’re settled in Eddie’s arms and it starts to slow. There's a minute’s comfortable silence, letting his presence ease you back to comfort. Then he hums, strokes at the hair on your temple. "You gotta tell me when something's not right, ‘kay?" he says seriously. "I like to think I can read you pretty well, but I could've missed it." 

"I'm sorry," you say, then, remembering you just agreed not to do that, "sorry."

Eddie breathes a laugh through his nose, leaves a wet kiss on your forehead. "My shy girl, mm?"

"Sometimes it's just…hard to say what I'm feeling. I didn't want you to stop.” You hum. “I don't think I did."

Eddie considers that, still stroking at your hair. "Do you, uh, know what a safe word is?” You shake your head, and he continues. “S’kinda like a code. Something you can just say if you wanna press pause, you know? Means that instead of getting in that head of yours, trying to work out what you want, you can just say a word and we’ll talk about it, yeah?”

You consider it, imagining the scene if you'd been able to just say one thing and slow down. Easier not to have to think through what you need before you tell him, just say one word and let Eddie help you get there, coax from your head what you haven't worked out yourself. "That sounds good, Eddie." 

"Yeah?" He asks, eyebrows raising. “Okay. We can keep it simple for now. If we wanna stop completely, for any reason, we say red, yeah? If we need to slow down, talk a little about what we need, we say yellow. And green for keep going. How’s that sound?"

"Good," you say, feeling grateful that you’re learning all these things with Eddie. "It sounds good, but I- I am sorry that I'm, y'know. Difficult, sometimes."

Eddie blinks, eyebrows pulling together. "Difficult? My sweet girl? Nah. Besides," he leans in, closing one eye. "I like looking after you." 

You sigh happily when he kisses you, gentle and seeking nothing more than sweet presses. But you're still wet and wanting, hand rubbing across the softness of Eddie's tummy until your fingers draw across the sparse hair at the top of his pants. Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat that has you pressing your thighs together. 

"You wanna turn over, mm? Open those pretty legs for me?”

Yes. You love having Eddie on top of you and inside you. Better every time, as your body gets used to him, as Eddie learns how to draw pleasure from you, as you learn what makes Eddie gasp, makes his hips move desperately like you're the only thing he needs. 

But you pause. Now, comfortable in the knowledge that you know how to slow down, stop when you need to, you let yourself imagine Eddie behind you. His hips hitting the back of your thighs, his big hands holding your waist, arching your body just right to slide inside. Letting yourself be vulnerable with Eddie, the feeling of offering yourself up to him, the reward of his touch.

“I want to try, I just, I need-” You don’t know, exactly. You feel another wave of irritation at yourself, wishing you could be a little more simple. That you didn't need to cling to him that first time, that now you need him to work out this hurdle. 

Eddie hums, and the mattress shifts again as he sits up behind you. “Lift these hips for me again, sweet thing?” He asks, helping you shift your knees forward, tilting your body up for him. You hear the crinkle of him tearing open a condom, his soft sigh as he rolls it down over his cock. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs, hands smoothing your skirt up, exposing your hot flesh to the air. You shiver up your spine, but when Eddie grinds against you, what follows is his torso stretched along your back until you can feel him pressing wet kisses to your shoulder. The tension falls away, replaced by the tickle of Eddie’s hair at your neck, his sweet sting of his teeth nipping your shoulder, the sound of his pleased hums.

A final touch, his left hand grabs yours on the mattress, linking your fingers up and resting them in your eyeline. You know Eddie’s hands better than you know your own. Thick fingers adorned with a pig, a cross, a skull; all pale skin but for the subtle pink at his knuckles and around his nails. The veins that run from the end of his fingers to his wrist, the dip at the end of his thumb. 

“Better?” Eddie asks. You hum happily. You’re so blissfully wrapped up in him like this, surrounded and safe. Eddie’s right hand teases your clit again, presses gently at your entrance and finds you still went and wanting, bearing down at the first dip of his digits inside you. “Fuck, don’t worry, sweet thing. Gonna give you what you need, mm?”

“Eddie,” you say, his name a gentle plea.

“I know,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his. He reaches between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance, the head of his cock tapping torturously at your clit. You have half a mind to kick your legs out in impatience now, settle on whining at the back of your throat. Eddie breathes a laugh into your shoulder, but it shifts immediately to a groan as he presses inside. 

You’re still not entirely used to the feeling of him slowly filling you, the edge of pain still leading you to bear down on him, body stuck between desperations; to force him out or or pull him deeper. But then there’s the perfect ache of feeling full, the warmth and heaviness of him inside. 

Eddie’s hips roll, the wet sound of him pulling from you making your toes curl. He starts up a steady pace, easing your body into letting him slide deeper into your cunt with each thrust. His fingers return to the top of your sex, rubbing at your sensitive button. With every slow thrust, each stroke of your twitching clit, it feels like your body is opening up to him, easing the way for him to press deeper, push inside a little rougher. Your body flinches, tightens and loosens up all over when the end of his cock finds the back of your pussy, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. 

“Feel good?” He says, amusement in his tone. You moan freely, happy to be teased by him as long as he keeps touching you. “Tell me.”

“Feels good,” you parrot, staring at Eddie’s hand in yours, the slow movement of rose tone up his wrist, along to his knuckles as he heats up. You shiver to let in his warmth, his breath on your shoulder, his chest at your back. His cock, hot and thick, fucking you open.

“My good girl,” he murmurs, groaning at the way your cunt clamps down, gushing wet around his thick cock in thanks for his praise. “Christ. I shoulda known that was your favourite,” he breathes, his right hand pressing at your mound to angle your hips just so, helping his cock find the spot at the end of you that makes your thighs shake with every heavy push. “S’mine too.” 

His lips travel up the side of your neck to the top of your cheek, eyes finding yours when you turn to him. Eddie gives you a gentle pout at the sight of your mouth open to take gasping, whimpering breaths, your eyes fluttering when he starts to bully your clit in line with the increasingly harsh movements inside you. “You were fucking made for me,” he tells you. “You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You cry out, arms giving way underneath you when your body twitches all over, squeezing tight around Eddie’s invading cock. Your head drops into the mattress next to your joined hands, but you nod desperately, wanting him to see that you know perfectly well. That nobody could make you feel as good as Eddie does.

Eddie keeps your body angled how he wants, adjusting your hips to pull your back into an arch. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to look after, mine to touch. Mine to fuck-” He gives you a harsh thrust that makes your thighs twitch, legs close to giving out if he wasn’t holding you up with his arm under your stomach. “I wanna feel you cum, yeah? Think you can?” 

You’re still nodding, hand gripping his tight, fingers curled through his. 

“For me? Just for me?”

Always. Only for Eddie. You can’t say it, mind too far away to form the thought properly, but the feeling of him saying it like that, claiming your pleasure for himself as he drags it out of you with his cock, heavy and hot, and his hand playing with your clit, drives you over the edge. You mewl into the mattress, cunt clenching tight around his throbbing cock as your pleasure peaks.

Eddie makes a soft whimpering sound as you cum, following you down to bury his face in your shoulder. His hips move faster as he starts chasing his pleasure instead of focusing on yours, hand that was teasing your clit now stroking at your hip to soothe your sensitive, twitchy body. 

Hearing him now, gasping breaths, whimpers in your ear, you sink happily into this feeling. Almost as good as reaching your own peak, the knowledge that you’re making Eddie feel good. That this boy who treats you so well, dedicates himself to helping you find your pleasure, loses himself a little at the clench of your cunt around him.

You drag your clasped hands to your mouth, kissing at the pink skin of his knuckles. How could anybody not want this with him? How could anybody have given him up? You feel a sudden, desperate possession of him, the need to claim him like he claimed you.

“Mine,” you murmur, pressing your lips to the back of his hand in an array of gentle kisses. Your other hand reaches back to tangle in his hair, scratch at the back of his head as he whimpers. You crane your neck, searching for his eyes. They’re dark, shining as they take you in. His cock twitches inside you, and you squeeze his hand again. “Mine?”

His bottom lip shakes. “Yeah. M'yours. Yours, fuck-” He captures your lips but the kiss ends quick when he groans, hips stuttering in your warmth then sinking deep. You keep scratching at his neck as his body shakes through his orgasm, and still after when his weight drops on you and you fall flat to the bed together. You lie there for minutes, catching your breath, luxuriating in the feeling of being held by Eddie, pussy still clenching weakly around him.

Eddie hums, pulling from you slowly with another wet sound that makes you bury your face in your pillow. He rubs at your hip gently, squeezes your hand a final time before untangling from you to deal with the condom. You make a mental note to do something with that before tomorrow morning, but Eddie has your mind going wonderfully blank again when he bounces back beside you and pulls you in. You’re both a little sweaty, cheek a touch too hot against his chest, but you have no interest in cooling down if it means you have to stop touching him.

“Good?” He asks, fingers rubbing at your temple. You hum a long content sound in answer, not ready to form any coherent thought yet, and feel Eddie’s chest shake with laughter under your cheek. “Good.”

You lay like that, clammy and pleasured, convinced nothing could drag you from this bed.  Until you feel a quick pang in your stomach, and the quiet reverie is interrupted by a deep rumble. There’s a moment of silence, then Eddie snorts underneath you. You’d be embarrassed if his laugh didn’t make you want to follow his happiness, smiling shyly when he rubs gently at your tummy. “Hungry work, huh?” He asks, giggling. “Never fear, sweet thing. I can fix that.” He pauses then, licks his lips quickly. “Hey, you got a box of mac and cheese sitting around here, somewhere?”

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You flinch, watching with increasing horror as Eddie’s attempts to chop the onion you’d handed him. Fingers splayed and terrifyingly close the blade, you’re stuck between gently taking the knife from him and asking point blank how he’s managed to keep all ten fingers intact this long. 

“Do you want me to finish that?” You ask, frowning when he shakes his head, still fully concentrated on each dangerous movement, his tongue just poking out of his lips in a physical demonstration of his focus. 

If you weren’t so terrified, you’d be appreciating how soft and comfy Eddie looks right now. Black Sabbath t-shirt tucked into his jeans, socked feet ready to slide along your kitchen floor. His dark curls pulled back from his face and braided by your own hands, tied at the end with your favourite lilac scrunchie that you kind of hope he’ll keep.

But you can’t think about it, because you’re terrified Eddie’s going to ruin his musical career here in your kitchen, making pasta.

“No, need, sweet thing,” he assures. “This is a patented Munson technique for chopping onions.”

You could curse yourself for not having any boxed mac and cheese, for suggesting you cook something from scratch together in the first place. You’re used to cooking, with your Mom and Dad, with your friends, and eventually for yourself. But you get the sense that Eddie does a lot of microwaving, looking after himself the same way he has since he was a kid, at dinner time when Wayne is working nights.

“Eddie, can I?” You gently take the knife from him, turning the half of the onion left and chopping it with your thumb tucked in. 

He tilts his chin. “Lacks the adrenaline rush that comes with the Munson method,” he says when you’re done, watching you tip the contents of the chopping board into the heated pan on the stove. Then, a little sheepishly, “I, uh, I don’t cook much. If that wasn’t obvious.”

“You don’t like it, or?”

“I like this,” he answers. “And I make breakfast sometimes with Wayne. But not dinner, so much. He’s usually at the plant that time of day, so nobody ever taught me, I guess.” He pauses. “That’s not true. My mom and I used to cook, I think. Sometimes.”

You wait for a couple of seconds, watching the onions and garlic soften. “When you were a kid?”

“Yeah, we’d make stuff like this. Or, she would. I think I’d just watch mostly. Stir stuff, lick the spoon.”

“Best part,” you say, smiling. Then, watching him carefully. “Your Mom, she…?”

“She died,” he finishes with a shrug. He taps at the counter with his knuckles. “Then I lived with my old man, and he was not one for cooking lessons,” he laughs derisively. “Then one day the bastard dropped me off at Wayne’s. Best thing he ever did for me. Not that he cared either way, he was just sick of having me around.” Eddie finally looks at you then, and catches something in your expression that makes him wince, the laughter that follows clearly forced. “Christ, sorry. I’m really dumping on you today.”

“Don’t apologise, Eddie.”

“Nah, I shouldn’t have-” He shakes his head, tapping the counter again before resting his palms at the edge. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Eddie, of course it matters,” you say, turning off the stove to approach him, standing separated from his body by his arm reaching to the counter, keeping you from wrapping around him the way you want to. “Of course it matters.” 

Eddie shrugs again, and it’s another one of those moments where you wish you were more like him. Eddie always knows what to say, senses where you’re hurt and how to soothe it, knows when to talk and when to just hold you. 

But now that it’s your turn, you’re left feeling useless, stuck just wanting to cry at the thought that anyone has ever hurt him, made him feel like he has something to apologise for just for being around.

“I think you’re so wonderful, Eddie,” you say. “I want you around all the time.”

There’s a second of something. He turns to meet your gaze, searching your face with a frown. Then he gives you a small, barely there smile. The arm between you raises to let you close, wrap him up in a tight hug. You feel his body lose tension as he sighs, your hand stroking his back the way you know he likes. “I want you around all the time, too, sweet thing,” he says softly. “I really do.”

Next Chapter

[mochegato]

How to Pass a Background Check with Flying Colors

“You remember the rules, right?” Alya asked for what had to be the fifth time that night.  She set down the lip gloss she was supposed to be applying for Marinette to level a pointed look at her.

Marinette rolled her eyes and grabbed the lip gloss to apply herself.  She was not going to let any doubts get to her.  She was far too excited about this date.  She hadn’t been this excited about a date since… well, honestly, she couldn’t remember when.  But Jason was absolutely amazing.  He was everything she never even let herself dream about because it was too unlikely.

When he’d approached her in the café to ask her about her book while she waited for her coffee, she almost tripped.  And she hadn’t even been moving.  He was funny, charming, smart, quick witted, spoke fluent French, and it didn’t hurt that he was ruggedly handsome, looking every bit the bad boy his personality didn’t seem to be.

They’d spoken for well over an hour that first day and it would have been longer if Juleka hadn’t interrupted to remind her they were supposed to be meeting for her dress fitting.  Thankfully, he was far more confident than her because while she was too scared to ask him for his number, he had no such compunctions, asking for her number and a date.

So, yeah, she was excited for this date.  But she wasn’t stupid.  They barely knew each other.  She didn’t even know his last name, let alone what he was capable of.  And she could protect herself and Tikki could assist, but Jason was easily three times as big as her.  His thighs were beautifully the size of her head.  If he wanted to hurt her, he might only get one hit in, but with his chest and biceps as beautifully sculpted and bulging as they were, it would only take one hit to do serious damage.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give Alya attitude for being even more paranoid than she was.  “Yes, maman,” she snarked.

Alya grabbed the lip gloss back aggressively and tossed it in Marinette’s purse.  “Hey!  Check the attitude.  You know I just do it because I love you.”  She gave Marinette a pointed look but was only able to hold it for a few moments before both of them broke into giggles and playful shoves that didn’t stop until the buzzer sounded.

Their heads whipped toward the door and Marinette let out an excited squeal while Alya let out a long breath to psych herself up.  “Okay, game time.  Let’s meet Prince Charming,” she cheered and passed Marinette’s purse to her.

Marinette grinned at her and barely grabbed the bag before she rushed out the door.  “Bonne soirée, Jason!”  She lifted up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He took a moment to respond, just staring at her dazedly for a few seconds.  “Bonne soirée, Marinette.  You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.  You look amazing too.”  She grinned brightly up at him, getting lost momentarily in his eyes until Alya cleared her throat behind her.  “Oh, right.  Sorry.  Jason, this is my friend Alya.  Alya, this is Jason.”

Jason stepped forward, hand extended.  “Nice to meet you, Alya.”

She shook his hand with a polite smile.  “Nice to meet you too.”  She looked quickly between the two before widening her smile.  “You two look so cute!” Alya cooed loudly.  “Can I get a picture of you by the motorcycle?”  She motioned toward the bike, herding them into position near the back of the bike.

Jason raised an eyebrow and glanced around them quickly as he took a step towards the bike, noting the way the light darkened the closer they got to the light.  He took a few more steps before freezing suddenly and turning around.  “Oh!  This is the background or Proof of Life pic,” he exclaimed loudly.  “Oh, got it.”

Marinette and Alya looked at each other anxiously, but he nodded excitedly like he was proud of himself for putting the pieces together and started reaching into his pocket.  “Yeah, why don't you go ahead and take a picture of my license plate.  Here's my ID.  Go ahead and take a picture of that.”  He handed the ID over to Alya, who took it tentatively, but did exactly as he suggested and handed it back to him, sending furtive, confused glances over to Marinette the entire time.

“But, you know, those records can all be faked pretty easily,” he noted casually while he tucked his ID back into his wallet.  “They’re pretty easy to manipulate.  It’s better to look up my name.  It’s harder to fake a bunch of news articles.”

Marinette blinked at him.  He wasn’t wrong, but she hadn’t been expecting him to know that.  Most people didn’t.  But that wasn’t the part that concerned her the most.  “Bunch of news articles?”

He shrugged and let out a helpless noise, almost too nonchalantly.  “When you do the background check you're probably going to find out have a charge for manslaughter.”

Alya chuckled at his joke but was already looking up his full name, now that she finally had it, before he finished his sentence.  Her fingers were moving like lightning as she pulled up any and all mentions of ‘Jason Todd’ in the French or American news (just to start, she would widen her search later if she didn’t find anything there), her paper’s backlogs, and police records.

Marinette gave him an exasperated look.  He clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with.  He was playing with fire.  “Don’t say things like that to her, it’ll just set her o…”

A screech interrupted her sentence and Marinette and Jason whipped around to look at her; Marinette with an expression of shock and Jason one of resignation.  “You’re Bruce Wayne’s son?” she shrieked.

“You are?” Marinette asked, turning to Jason, eyes wide in surprise.  In all their conversations, he had never mentioned his family, almost like he was intentionally avoiding the subject.  She guessed that must be why.

“What is it with you and rich men’s sons?” she snickered without looking up from her phone.

“Oh?” Jason asked, fixing her with a teasing gaze.

“What the… You were serious!” Alya screeched before Marinette could respond.

Marinette turned back to her again, trying to construct what was going on through eye contact with Alya, but her eyes were trained incredulously on Jason.  “What?” Marinette asked.  Alya angled the phone toward her without taking her eyes off Jason.

Marinette only read the headline and the first few sentences before turning her uncertain, hurt gaze to Jason.  He held his hands up.  “In my defense, that guy had been and currently was trafficking little kids into the sex trade.  He had seven little girls in his warehouse when I stopped him.”

Alya and Marinette slowly looked back down to Alya’s phone and scrolled further down on the article.  “Yeah.  Yep.  That's what it says,” Alya nodded, still reeling from the revelation.

“And he attacked me.  I tried to deescalate.  The charges were dropped. Thank you.  And made sure the girls didn’t see anything,” he insisted earnestly.

Alya scrolled down further.  “Uh huh.  Okay.  Yeah.  Says that too.”

Marinette blinked a few times at the article before she was able to find her words.  “You warned us about the manslaughter but were hoping we wouldn’t find out about the Bruce Wayne thing?”

He scoffed and leaned back on the seat of the motorcycle; legs stretched languidly in front of him.  “I’m not embarrassed about the manslaughter charge.”  He paused and bobbed his head to the side in consideration.  “Well, no, I’m a bit embarrassed I got caught, but I stand behind what I did.  Being associated with Bruce though…” he shuddered violently.  “If there was one thing I could scrub from my record…”

Alya looked over to Marinette, having a silent conversation with her.  Marinette looked between her and Jason a few times then shot her a determined nod and sent Jason a brilliant smile.  “Right, well, we're going to be late if we don't go and I was really excited to try this restaurant.  See you later Al,” she chirped and slung her leg over the seat behind Jason who returned her smile, just as brightly and handed her a helmet.

Alya nodded and waved her off.  “Have a good time!  Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”  She paused for a moment to consider her words before continuing louder.  “Actually, do far less than I would do.  And Jason?”  She waited until he looked at her before continuing, pointing a warning finger at him.  “If you feel the need to do something like that again, give me a call.  I'm a reporter.  I can use the story.  Have fun kids!”

The roar from the engine of Jason’s motorcycle filled the street, only drowned out by the delighted laughter from the passengers.

[cynarisgayass]

𓍊𓋼~Letting the impulsive thoughts win~𓋼𓍊

Type: Short oneshots

Description: Sorry for lack of posts, 4th of July put a stop on my schedule (which I hate sm) but anyways this is letting the impulsive thoughts win with genshin characters. Like wanting to throw whip cream at someone or boop them idfk.

Rating: Fluff/funny

Reader: GN, slight autism/adhd vibes

Includes: Wanderer/ Xiao

Wanderer:

It was calling to you, begging you, tempting you with it's white soft texture...(Don't be a perv ;)

Whip cream...covering the top of the pie you'd just bought, it smelled amazing and looked even better...but the thought of gently smashing into Wanderers face was literally eating at your being. Plus the counter was clean, you could literally still eat it if you wanted to so it wouldn't really be a waste..."No. No you can't, you can't."

"Can't what?"

You jumped at the sudden voice behind you...when had he walked in? Was he onto you... "Wanderer! Haha, I was just telling myself I can't eat the whole thing in one sitting. That's all, nothing else!"

He looked at you annoyed, like he knew you were up to something but not exactly what it was. "Hmm, I still don't understand how you can eat it. It's disgustingly sweet." He stepped closer to the counter, standing right, over, the pie, scowling at it.

You couldn't take it anymore, fate had laid it out all perfect for you. Your hand slipped under the pie and before he even had the chance to move you smooshed it in his face, whip cream covering all his features, dripping down his chin as you set the mostly empty crust aside.

He couldn't even react, he was so shocked and that was to funny for you, you started laughing hysterically, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to apologise. "I-im so sorry! Hahaha I couldnt- you stepped Infront- I'm sorry! Bahahaha!"

He took a deep breath and sighed, for a second you were worried he was genuinely angry, but he wouldn't be with you if he couldn't handle your impulsive thoughts. He held up the crust and scooped out what was left, "Your actions have consequences..."

You wiped a tear away and looked at him confused, "Huh?-AH!"

He mushed the pie filling on the top of your head, swirling it with your hairs as you squealed in dismay.

Xiao:

You giggled in excitement as Xiao helped you tie up your kite. You'd made it yourself, using all the Yakshas as your inspiration and even better was as you made it he told you stories of them. You could tell it was a little hard for him at first, but once he started talking about the happier stories he loosened up. This one he was telling now seemed to especially resonate with him.

"They were always playing tricks, using ink to draw on my face and introducing me to people, but giving me the wrong name. Bonanus, she was usually far less embarrassing with her pranks...actually you remind me of her in that way."

You blushed lightly, "I do?"

"Yes. She would often try and find ways to make me flustered. Once she even found a inappropriate book and left it for me to read. Even leaving a note on it that read: Alatus, I've found these war tactics very useful. Read at once."

Your smile widened as you imagined him opening the book, "I bet you were completely red in the face haha!"

"I was. It made it even worse that Morax- Zhongli I mean, was there when I started to read it."

"Pffft!" You burst out laughing, unable to contain yourself as you pictured the scene with Zhongli being in the same room. Then it was like a switch went off...and you felt kinda numb, maybe sad even...wishing you could have been there. "Xiao, do you prefer that part of your life..."

He paused and looked at you in confusion, "I don't prefer one part of my life over the other. I may miss my Yaksha companions, but if I were to choose that part of my life over this one, I would no longer have you. That would be just as much of a loss if not more."

Your heart skipped a beat as the moment grew more intense, his eyes staring into yours like he was attempting to prove to you that his words were true. It was a bit much and you weren't really good with tension...so you chose to lighten the mood with the very thing you'd wanted to do since he started talking.

You reached out and poked his nose, saying a small little, "Boop" as you did so. It was so random and yet it fixed the heavy air that had gathered around you both. His face turned a light shade of pink and he returned back to what he was doing, as if nothing had happened at all.

"Xiao?"

"Hm?"

"Is it don't yeeeettt???"

Another dirty alphabet up nexttt~

[amberjazmyn]

dr spencer reid one shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - prehaps one day

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - literally none, it's fluff, it's cheese, it's cute and it's love

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - five times the bau think spencer has proposed to reader + the one time he actually has

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - the title is horrendous but if anyone has any better name, please tell me cause this name gives me all the cringe. also, i've seen so many of these but my favourite one is from the blog fromeden and you should def check it out!

masterlist

---

one

penelope was certain, absolutely sure, completely convinced that spencer, your boyfriend, popped the question. she was like, ten million percent sure. although she wasn't a profiler but the techncial analyst, she started to pick up what she thought were tell-tale signs that gave her the impression that spencer had put a ring on it.

the technical analyst was so sure of herself that, she told derek and david. telling them both that the proposal must have happened over the public holiday. the public holiday that, obviously, everyone but the bau and rest of the fbi had off.

"...just look at them, derek! i swear to god, 187 has proposed," penelope squeals, watching the way you two were all over each other

"come on now, penelope. you could be overreacting--"

"--in fairness, look at her left hand, she's clearly covering it. it has to be a ring," david inserts, causing a slight scare for derek and penelope, worrying that you and spencer could have overheard

"and how would you know, mr three wives?" derek sassed, penelope's eyes widening as david chuckled

"isn't it obvious, derek? her left hand is hidden because she wants to tell us rather than us finding it out beforehand," david touches his nose which makes derek and penelope giggle

however, it wasn't until jj walked past that shut down the rumours of a potential bau wedding on its way.

"you guys are crazy. the reason why she's hiding her left hand is because, if you guys were good at profiling each other, you would know she has always rested her right hand over her left one. she isn't engaged and spence hasn't proposed to her. y'all are crazy sometimes i swear," jj chuckled, shaking her head which made penelope and derek down in the dumps whereas david just chuckled

it wasn't until after you and spencer finished the paperwork that you realised that the entire time, derek, penelope, david and jj had all been bickering. bickering about what they thought was your proposal that they had completely missed because it was done in secret.

in which, to clarify, did not happen. jj was right, the "tell" of you being engaged because you were hiding your left hand was false. you have always hidden your left hand by covering it with your right hand if you leave it resting on a table.

two

it was a wednesday, middle of the week and the team were all getting ready to finish up their work day. pleading for at least a full three-day weekend of rest. although spencer was normally always flustered, this wednesday, he looked even more flustered then usual. it felt like he was running around like a headless chicken looking for something.

"you good, reid? whatchu looking for?" derek questioned, his head poking out from a wall as he was leaving the office

"uh, yeah, i...um...i'm taking y.n for a weekend trip and i printed off our booking for it but, i can't seem to find it," he mutters as he continues to look for it

"ooh, that's exciting. where to, any particular reason why?" derek teases as he moves to lean against the wall

stopping his search for a second, spencer sighed in agitation, "down by the mountains cause i know she's always wanted to go there for ages. i booked a loft, i printed the booking info like moments ago and now i can't find it!" he was getting angrier and for once, derek didn't want to instigate him

derek smiles, noticing it was at a completely different printer, "this booking info?" he says as he picks it up and hands it to the younger agent who breathes a sigh of reliefe

"thank you so much, morgan! i l...you are my favourite person in the world right now other than y.n!" spencer feels himself calm down which is when, of course, derek instigates him with hints of a marriage proposal

"sooo, with the holiday getaway this weekend, what's it for...you know, anything special other than just because y.n's never been before?" derek teased as spencer turned back around and gave derek what would be classified as a "stank face"

"umm, no...no...we're going because y.n's genuinely never gone to the mountains and i thought, we have the time and the money so, we're going for the weekend...why are you asking?" spencer gave a look of confusion as derek just nodded his head embarrassment

derek started backing away when spencer ran after him, the booking for the holiday in his hands, "why are you asking, morgan? stop running away!" thankfully, derek hadn't run too far as he laughed slightly

"umm, i just thought you guys were gonna come back with a special announcement but, don't worry, it's clearly not that and i apologise for jumping to a conclusion that is obviously not happening. have a great vacation you two. make sure you send us some photos after knowing that you won't be texting or calling us at all," derek chuckled as that seemed to satisfy spencer and he smiled back, nodding

"will do, derek. the photos will be sent from y.n's phone not mine. have a good weekend yourself, don't do anything i wouldn't do," spencer smiled, his bag across his body as derek smiled back

"i will, thanks. see you monday, hopefully tuesday but, we shouldn't be too sure because, as we know from past situations, criminals and serial killers don't typically like to take vacations!" derek chuckled as spencer nodded his head before leaving whilst derek didn't

and that was because, hidden away behind the wall where derek was leaning against, was penelope and david, all waiting to see if derek got the information about the "proposal".

"and, derek? what did he say? will there be a ring on y.n's finger when they come back?" penelope tried, a look of hope in her eyes as derek just shook his head, david chuckling

"nope, sorry baby girl. just a vacation in the mountains because y.n's never been. and, before you ask, yes, i did subtly ask but, no, there will be no ring on her finger when they get back..." derek trailed off as penelope growled in annoyance as derek and david's eyes grew wide in shock

"...oh come on! i really thought it would be this time!" penelope was truly devastated that her best friend wouldn't be getting proposed to as derek and david, again, giggled

"sorry baby girl but, i think pretty boy's waiting for a specific day if he has even thought about it," derek shrugged as david nodded his head and left, leaving derek and penelope with one last thing

"and if he is, we shouldn't be pushing it or hounding him over it. he'll do it when they are both ready for it!" david says whilst walking out of the office

penelope and derek share looks of, even though they hated it, they couldn't help but agree with david's statement. if it hadn't happened this time and the time before, it's clear that it's not happening just yet. because, one, either spencer and y.n haven't talked about it yet or, they simply aren't ready for it.

three

by the third time that derek, penelope and david thought that spencer proposed, jj, emily and now aaron was even watching, looking for any new tells. new tells that could possibly tell them if spencer had proposed yet or not. and, obviously, because it's the bau, there is at least three different bets going on all at the same time. which makes no sense clearly but, to them it makes sense.

this time it was emily that noticed something that could have been possibly a little off for spencer. he had a little bag on his desk. whilst it wasn't out in plain sight, it wasn't being hidden either. so, emily just decided to go for it and straight up ask him what it was.

"hey, spence, what's in the bag?" emily questioned, a little giddy glint in her eye

spencer smiled, making eye contact with emily, "oh, um *shy chuckle* it's just an anniversary gift..." he trailed off nervously, hoping she wasn't close by

emily felt her shoulders deflate. she knew she should have felt a little sad that it wasn't likely an engagement ring but, she still couldn't believe that it had so quickly got to their anniversary.

"what is it? some jewellery? what number anniversary is now, spence?" emily no longer cared about the bet or the possibility of an engagement and wedding

she just cared that spencer and y.n were still so head over heels in love with each other. even though she knew they'd never fall out of love with one another.

"oh, just a matching necklace and earrings set. we've been dating. for like, four years now. i remember overhearing from someone, it may have been jj or even will that you never gift a partner a ring unless you plan to marry them. so, i decided to get her a matching emerald necklace and earrings because y.n's already got so many rings, not just her own but also ones that my mom has gifted her," spencer smiled shyly as emily's face lit up

"aw, that's so sweet. and happy four years, spence. four years is amazing. you and y.n should be so proud of that. and, good on you for deciding to not get a ring as i know so many people at the four year mark who would have gotten a ring and it turn out that they weren't ready to be married. you're really a smart man, spence. i'm sure y.n'll love the present," emily smiled, ruffling his hair in pride for the young boy genius as spencer chuckled, fixing his hair as emily walked away

curious, of course, derek and penelope, gave her the look. and, emily, with a sense of pride, shook her head no. again, derek and penelope were saddened but, when emily explained, they felt a sense of pride wash over them. the same pride that washed over emily that he knew not to gift y.n a ring if it either wasn't a promise ring, engagement ring or a replacement ring for one that broke.

however, it was at this point, the third time that the team thought that spencer was going to propose that, he actually started planning it. obviously, it doesn't take long before rumours start to travel throughout the office. so, it wasn't long before spencer and even y.n began to hear of the rumours of the two young agents getting engaged. and, that was when the couple started to talk about it. because, like thought of as one of the reasons why it hasn't happened yet, spencer and y.n just hadn't spoken about it. not because they didn't want to marry each other, they just hadn't spoken about it in proper detail. until now when they did start a conversation on it after a day of paperwork in the office on their four-year-anniversary and they were each gifted four gifts each. and now, with the knowledge of his girlfriend's ring-size, he decided to ring up hotch, because, like most people, spencer would not have guessed that hotch was in on all the rumours and the bets so, he asked him for advice.

let's just say that it was a struggle for hotch to keep a straight face when spencer asked him if at some point during a free day of work that he could help him in finding an engagement ring for y.n. yet, hotch managed to keep his cool and, obviously, didn't tell the rest of the team who were in on the rumours and bets about it because, one, he didn't want to break spencer's trust and two, whilst he did participate in team rumours and bets, he would never rat out to the betters if he was on the other side.

four

it's a quiet and slow day when out of nowhere, like, complete nowhere. everyone, except for spencer and y.n, rush into penelope's bat cave. worrying that something bad had happened like someone had been killed or arrested, it was confusing when they just all saw penelope basically hyperventilating.

"...are you alright penelope?" jj questions with worry, wondering why penelope was literally hyperventilating if no one had died or been arrested

"i...i think it's the day!" she struggles to say as the team all look at each other in confusion

"what? you think it's the day? what day? it's a monday, penelope, what could be so exciting about a monday?" emily then questioned as penelope bursted with another round of excitement which scared everyone

"but that's just it! i think it's happened! i really think pretty boy and pretty girl are engaged!" penelope screeches with excitement as emily shakes her head, derek, jj, david and aaron smile

"and why do you think that, baby girl?" derek speaks up as penelope squeals yet again

but, she doesn't say anything and aaron's eyes widened, "what did you do, penelope? what did you hack into?" he was worried that she had somehow found out about the conversation he had with spencer about him helping spencer out with finding an engagement ring

"the hotel that they will be staying in for their belated three-year-anniversary..." penelope backs up, trailing off of her sentence as no one notices the breath of relief that aaron breathes out

"...wait, so you think he's gonna propose to her at a hotel, baby girl?" derek questions in confusion

however, that was when you walked in and let's just say you were beyond confused.

"umm, who is going to propose to me where?" you blurted out as everyone's eyes widened

and no one spoke up. that was, until david did and let's just say, he truly saved the day here, "oh, no one darling. we're just talking about the time i proposed to my second wife in a hotel however many years ago it was..." he trailed off and everyone just hoped you believed it

and...you did. you didn't even question it and you should have cause you're a profiler but an amazing one at that. so, it confused the rest of the team when you didn't question it.

"...oh, okay, cool, sorry, my bad. well, umm, if anyone's interested, spence has bought all of us some coffee so, we'll be waiting for you guys in the conference room with it when y'all are ready!" you smiled as you left penelope's bat cave to spencer who waited in the conference room

as soon as everyone knew you were out of sight and out of hearing range, they all let out the heavy breaths that they had no idea they were holding on to.

"holy...lord jesus christ, how on earth did she believe that lie, rossi?!" penelope bursted out as giggles followed as did head shakes of shock and wide eyes

"i truly have no idea but, well done me i guess!" david chuckled as everyone shortly followed after him as he left for his morning coffee that was waiting for him in the conference room that for once, he didn't pay for

"yeah, well done you, david! i seriously thought she wouldn't believe it but it shocked me more that she didn't question you," aaron chuckled in bewilderment as david patted his unit chief's shoulder

afterwards, the team realise that, whilst penelope did "hack" into the hotel that you and spencer were booked into for that night and the following weekend, that it wasn't because he was proposing to you. it was genuinely because you guys didn't get to celebrate your four-year-anniversary that was the third time that they thought a proposal was happening. so, instead, you guys were going to celebrate it on that friday and saturday instead.

five

it's this day, the fifth time that the team thinks a proposal is gonna happen that it's hotch that teases the group. sending the team back at quantico his location that he was in with spencer.

"you guys will never guess where i am!" hotch sniggers cheekily which earns some confusion from the team who were basically bored out of the minds

with so much paperwork to fill out, derek almost groaned at his unit chief, "oh, i don't know, hotch, are you by any chance, bullying a spoilt child?" he replies which earns a laugh from aaron but also from the rest of the team, including y.n, although it's obvious she wasn't paying attention

only laughing because everyone else was, hotch knew it was the perfect time to tell the rest of the team, "i'm at the jeweller with spencer, and it's a fancy one," he smiles over the phone

"gold thanks, hotch, silver makes me look discoloured," emily jokes, shockingly not realising the situation after she started to pull away from the bets of wanting spencer and y.n to get engaged

"good to know prentiss but, i'm here with spencer because ages ago, when you guys thought for a third time that he was proposing to y.n for help in my opinion on a certain piece he was looking to buy,"

that was when it clicks in emily's but in everyone else's heads, penelope slipping out of the chair, "wait, is this finally the day that it happens?" she just about whispers with her eyes wide and her hands already starting to perisperate

"i seriously think so guys. well, reid's walking back over and i can tell that y.n's attention is turning back to you guys so, i'll talk to you all later," aaron hangs up and focuses back on spencer

seeing that aaron was about to uncharacteristcally freak out, spencer spoke up, "and, yes, it's the time to do it hotch. it's why i asked you back those few weeks ago when everyone thought i was gonna do it for the third time i think *chuckles*..." spencer trails off as aaron's eyes nearly fall out of his socket

he nearly chokes on his own saliva, "wait, you weren't joking when you were asking me for advice on an engagement ring?" hotch whispers, realising just how honoured he suddenly felt to be given this opportunity

"yes...i want you to help me and give me advice on an engagement ring for y.n. i was being serious that day when i came to you and asked. i know she loves emeralds because of the emerald necklace and earring set i gave her for our four-year but, i don't know if that's her style in rings too..." spencer trailed off, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and stressed, grateful that he had hotch with him

overcome with emotion and seeing spencer overcome with emotion, hotch had to fight himself to not give the boy genius a huge hug. resisting however, hotch takes in some deep breaths which causes spencer to watch and copy so he could calm himself down as well.

"well, whilst y.n loves to wear emeralds on necklaces and earrings, do you know if she has any emerald rings? cause that's a start and if she does have emerald rings and wears them quite often, then, yes, that would be the choice of engagement ring you'd buy. but, if she usually wears a different stone more than the emerald then go for that one, alright?" aaron advised as spencer smiled and nodded his head, feeling more confident

as a smile overcomes his face, he pulls out his phone and goes straight to his photo album of you. majority of the photos you are wearing a specific ring with a specific stone and whilst it wasn't an emerald, it was a green sapphire ring that you got given by your mother that you always wore on your ring finger. you would wear it until the day you would then change it for the real life green sapphire engagement ring you'd get when you'd eventually get proposed to.

looking at aaron's pride-filled face of how, just like figuring out an unsub, spencer quickly figured out that the type of engagement ring you wanted. and how it was the exact same as the one you had been wearing ever since your mom had given it to you. except, whilst it would be similiar, it would be different because spencer made sure that whilst the stone was sapphire, he still made sure that there was obvious engagement ring bling on the ring so it was obvious it was an engagement ring. and not just a replacement for the one you already had because, that sapphire ring hadn't broke, it was just being replaced for the real deal.

and, of course, spencer didn't really need aaron's opinion on the actual ring itself, he just needed the help in figuring out what stone and whether it was emerald or sapphire. so, when aaron helped him in figuring it out by asking him if there was a specific stone that you wore more often then the other then, that was the stone of choice.

"hotch...thank you for coming with me and helping me. i'm glad you were able to come with me," spencer thanked his unit chief, pure sincereity seeping from not just his words but his body language

and aaron smiled, "my pleasure spencer and, don't be thanking me, it was an honour to help you find the right one for y.n," aaron replies, not stopping himself from hugging the boy genius this time. making the young agent sincerely chuckle, he welcomed the hug wonderfully

feeling pride and like a father to the young agent, aaron couldn't help the urge of a sudden flood of tears that had started to well up in his eyes as the two agents reached the suv.

the one

"...hey guys, what are you all doing on the 30th of june?" spencer asks, completely out of nowhere since it was another paperwork day

"that's like, nine months away, you really think i plan that far in advance, spence?" jj questions, nevertheless checking her calender at the same time, her concentration from her paperwork fleeting for just a second

"to be fair, i was not expecting for that reaction," you smiled devishly, clearly hiding something, smiling at spencer, "let's go once more and if they don't get this, i think i'm just gonna throw it at them. penelope, emily, jayje, would you like to be apart of my bridesmaids?"

just when you thought you were going to have to throw the ring at them, a delayed and very loud gasp falls through the room as everyone turns to stone. it's penelope that is the first one to regain her composure, "wait, what are you saying?"

with a joking roll of your eyes, you hold up your left hand and wriggle your fingers...oh and the new, upgraded sapphire engagement ring, "aren't you gonna ask where i got the new upgraded sapphire ring?" you pretty much cackle like an evil witch, surprisngly enjoying the reactions

aaron then stands up, since he wasn't in his office and pushed his chair away, "you actually did it?" he's soft in his question to spencer

"i did it," the boy genius nods, his smile wider than ever before

"you've broken the team, spence," emily chuckles, looking all around her to see everyone still frozen in their tracks on their seats

however, not for long as penelope, jj and emily jump out of their seats and rush over to you, "why didn't you tell us the second you asked her, spencer?! of course...of course i'm free that day and even if i'm not i'll make myself be free! and, excuse me, how dare you ask me to be your bridesmaid with the insinuation that i'd say no, I'D LOVE to be your bridesmaid!"

nearly toppling over you, penelope smashes into you for a hug as you couldn't help the laugh that erupts from your throat. after penelope's over the top reaction, the guys, derek, david and aaron stood up out of their seats and also crowded around you and spencer. of course then came all the congratulatory hugs and face squishes and wanting to take a closer look at the upgraded sapphire engagement ring.

and, obviously, the next day and then actually the next couple of weeks, penelope and jj and emily, everyone really, starts to bring in little cakes and muffins and things to keep the celebrations of the new bau engagement up and continuing. because, now that the engagement had happened, that meant it was now time to plan the wedding. but, you and spencer didn't care, you just loved that after waiting for so long, the team that is, they finally got their moment to celebrate their two little bau babies be engaged because not only were you even more in love with your now fiancé but you just felt like you were being attacked with love at every angle and you loved it and you embraced it.

oh, and, remember that bet that was going around? yeah, it was actually hotch that won all of them so, he got all of the money. shockingly, he managed to correctly predict the exact date of the proposal without even being given the date from spencer. because, even though aaron helped spencer in figuring out the ring was a sapphire and not an emerald, that didn't mean he asked nor was given any other information about the day of the proposal. only that the ring was a sapphire so, it was pretty funny and a shock to the system that hotch predicted the exact date without knowing it. and he didn't get the day before or the day after, he got the exact day on the dot. for a while, certain team members were a bit suspicious (derek and penelope) but a couple of days later and they just found it amusing and amazing that hotch was such an amazing predicter and was then asked to predict the day that the bachelorette party was going to be on. but, that was obviously when hotch drew the line and made his team go back to their paperwork. because, crime unfortunately doesn't stop just because two federal agents get engaged.

---

this was so much fun to write and i have always wanted to do one of these but have always been too scared to but i'm glad i finally decided to just do it.

ok bye ily xx

wc; no idea soz

[maxsimagination]

𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, 𝗻𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 - 𝗵.𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗼

summary: yn hasn’t seen hayley for a while, and time zones make calling difficult. but the world cup call ups have perfect timing.

𖦹 masterlist

𝗜𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 since i had had seen hayley in person, we would facetime every day if we could but the time differences were hard to work around. she had signed for real madrid at the end of last season and moved over to spain two months before it started for the preseason.

since our contracts ran out at everton in 2021, both me and hayley had received offers from different clubs. i had a record offer from manchester united and immediately took it. hayley on the other hand, had man city after her to which she agreed.

it was easier to see each other then, since we were still in the same city but playing on different sides. now, it was harder, we played in different countries. the season had just ended in england, and in spain, which meant it was world cup time.

i knew i'd been scouted but didn't know if i'd be getting the call up. it was my first world cup in the senior leagues, i played in the under 20s for the last one. i knew that mary earps had gotten the call up for her home team, england, but australia has chosen yet.

it was an anxious week of me waiting by my phone every second i could and answering every call, but finally it came.

"hello?"

"hi, is this yn?"

"yes, it is. who is this?"

"tony gustavsson, coach for the matilda's. how are you yn?" my heart was beating out of my chest, i was praying that this was good news.

"i'm good tony, what can i help you with?"

"well, i'm calling to give you some good news. you've been called up to represent australia in the world cup." there was a long pause before i responded, i had to let what he said sink in.

"really?"

"absolutely. how does that sound?"

"amazing!" i had let out a sigh of relief when he confirmed it, not wanting to get my hopes up.

"the whole team will fly down to aus next week, i will be emailing you all the details and tickets."

"perfect. thank you so much, tony." i said my goodbyes then hung up, needing to release the excitement i had pent up. the first person i called was hayley. i didn't want her to be upset if she didn't get in, so i asked her if she did first.

"yes, tony called me before you did. i was going to surprise you."

"no need, i got in too!" i heard an excited squeal on the other side and assumed it was hayley.

"actually? you're not kidding?"

"no i'm not joking. i got in." we squealed together in excitement.

——

it was the week after and i was bouncing off the walls of my apartment. mary had come over to help me pack the previous day so i was ready, because there was no way i could manage alone in my current state. i almost forgot my passport, that's how excited i was.

mary drove me to the airport and i thanked her then got out. i checked the ticket and figured out which gate i was in. they finally called my flight and i was the first person through the gate. i went through security and finally boarded the plane.

it was almost an 18 hour flight straight to perth so i tried my best to get some rest. i woke up some time later, and figured out what time it was. we still had 8 hours left, so i pulled a book out.

i ended up falling asleep for the second time that flight and woke up again right before we landed. safe to say i was well rested.

——

i got of the plane, and into the airport to see a security escort holding a sign with my name. i walked up to them, introducing myself. they took me to the car and we drove to the designated hotel for the matilda's. tony was there when i arrived and i greeted him.

"tony, so good to finally see you in person."

he smiled back at me. "yn, yes so good to meet you. here is your room key, just go and put your things in your room. i'll let you know when the whole team is here." i nodded and walked up to my room.

about an hour or two later there was knock on my door and a shout from the other side. "yn, it's tony. the team is all here, come meet us in the lobby." i yelled back an ok and started getting changed. grabbing out the matilda's issued gear that we'd been given upon arrival i threw it on and raced downstairs.

there was a sea of matilda's jerseys in the lobby and tony shouted at us all to get into a meeting room.

we traipsed into the area and it was then that i spotted hayley. she hadn't seen me yet so i decided to sneak up on her. she was talking with sam kerr, who was my idol when i was growing up and now i was playing on the same team as her.

i got close enough to them and practically jumped on hayley's back. she almost shrieked before i turned her around and she saw it was me.

"oh my god, YN! you're here!"

she grabbed me into a hug and i responded in turn.

"yea i'm here, couldn't wait to see you again."

we spent the rest of the meeting together and then the rest of the day in hayley's room, just spending time together, catching up on everything we missed in the huge amount of time we'd been apart.

[babyhatesreality]

Hi if you take request I just have this in my mind:

Sometimes when you are somewhere outside (like in a mall) you get distracted by all those people and colorful stores. And if you don’t hold your daddies hands you will easily go another way.

So what if she is to distracted by something and Steve and Bucky just further without noticing that she didn’t follow (maybe they are stressed or smt like that) and she just follows someone who looks like one of her daddy’s and she only notices later that this was not her daddy and she was lost.

Okay so first things first, I'm old and don't know how to put the two similar asks together nicely so here’s a screenshot and get off my lawn. :P (edited to add: Also for @justme1234456 who requested this too!<3)

Second, I had to alter both asks a bit to align it with what I see as canon in my AU. I really hope that’s okay, and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were looking for. I have to be honest about what I think could actually happen in this little world I’ve created otherwise I just can’t write it truthfully. If that offends anyone, I’m truly sorry for hurting feelings, and I encourage you to find what you’re needing with many of the other insanely-more-talented-than-I-am writers on this site. 

Break Away

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), language, pet names, praise, scared reader, angst, tears, large and pushy crowds, overprotective Papa and Daddy, fluff fluff fluff and did I mention fluff? 

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

What started as a nice walk in the park quickly turned into one of their worst nightmares. 

It had been raining for days in New York. Normally you wouldn’t have minded, having a massive pile of toys to play with and books to have read to you, and an endless supply of other family members in the tower to keep you entertained. But you were fidgety, constantly needing to be on the move. Your daddies had taken you to the big gym floor and set you loose on the giant running track, they’d taken you to the Olympic-sized indoor pool, and they’d even managed to convince Tony to let them take the Quinjet on a quick spin around the state. All of which managed to keep you satisfied...for that day. Then the next day they’d find you with your nose pressed up against the sliding glass door to the patio, watching the pouring rain, asking politely if you could go outside. Four thousand times in a row. 

Finally the rain let up right before your bedtime, and the ground became okay enough to not be a giant puddle by morning. You were so excited about going outside, wiggling around so much, that Bucky later grumbled to Steve that it had been easier escaping from the German army than getting you into your coat and rain boots. 

“We goin’ to the park, we goin’ to the park, we goin’ to the PAAAAAAAAAAARK!!!” you sung at the top of your little lungs, running back and forth with joy as you held onto Steve and Bucky’s hands, walking through the hallways of the tower. You squealed in delight when they both lifted their arms in tandem, swinging you into the air. “Again again please!!” you begged, laughing uproariously with delight when they obliged. 

Steve grinned down at you as you giggled gleefully. He was craving the fresh air just as much as you were and felt as joyful as you did. “Okay, so when we get to Central Park, what are you going to do, angel?” he asked you. 

“Hold your hand always!”

“That’s my smart girl. You hold my hand or Daddy’s hand at all times. And what happens if we get separated and you don’t see us?”

“Look for a ‘Venger to help!” 

“Right again! I’m so proud of you!” You giggled and blushed, wiggling around extra hard to let Papa know how happy his praise made you. “Now. Last one. If you don’t see someone who can help you, what do you do?”

“Light up shoes and stay PUT!”

“Great job, baby!” Steve cheered, suddenly swinging around and lifting you up into the air while you laughed crazily. All the littles in the Avengers Tower had light up shoes with tiny trackers in them, so if anything ever happened to them outside the tower and they were in little space, they’d always have a tracker on them that a caregiver could follow. It wasn’t too hard to convince any little to wear the shoes that lit up when they stomped; in fact, you all had gone through several pairs of light up shoes, delighted at the light up features. Hey, the system worked. 

Bucky grinned at the two of you, reaching back out for your hand the moment your feet touched the ground. “Good job remembering the rules, Trouble,” he said. You wiggled with joy and blushed again, making him chuckle. He looked up at his husband. “You sure you wanna try this without caps and glasses?” he asked again, raising his eyebrows. “No disguises at all?”

Steve smile warmly at his worrywart husband. “We’re not undercover, Buck. We live in this city too, and everyone already knows it anyways. It’ll be okay, and if it’s not, we’ll just ask people to respect our space or we’ll go a different direction. It’ll be fine.”

Bucky kept the smile, but tightened his grip on your hand. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, the three of you were enjoying the birds singing, the fresh, cool breeze blowing through the trees, and the hum of human activity all around you. It was so lovely, it seemed like everyone in New York City was trying to get outside to see the sun. You held tight to your daddies’ hands, but your head was constantly whipping around, trying to take in all the sights at once.  

Suddenly, there was a scream in the distance. Bucky and Steve’s heads snapped in the direction of the sound automatically, their grips tightening on yours. Out of nowhere, this group of seven or eight teens came barreling at the three of you, all with their phones out, screaming about Captain America and The Winter Soldier. With the speed of light, Bucky tucked you underneath his vibranium arm, cuddling you against his body to keep you safe. This meant you had to let go of Papa’s hand, and you tried to turn your head to make sure he was okay, but Daddy’s grip on you was too strong and you couldn’t see him. 

Before you knew it, the crowd grew suddenly larger, and you heard people pointing at the group of teens in recognition- they were something called a...’influencer’ or a ‘TikTok star’ or something...you didn’t understand all the yelling. You got very, very still, hanging desperately onto Daddy’s shirt as he tried to be polite- Avengers had an image to maintain, especially the ‘reformed’ ones like him- but get these people to back off. 

One of the boys grabbed onto the vibranium arm that was holding you, screaming about how cool it was. It scared you so badly, not seeing this boy until his hands were reaching right where you were at and the loudness, that you stumbled backwards, causing you to slip out from underneath Bucky’s arm.

 Bucky’s head whipped around the second he lost contact with you. “Steve!” he hollered over the melee as he tried to move the kid away from you. “Get her!” All you caught was a glimpse of Steve’s searching blue eyes before a tidal wave of people crashed into you. It was insane- some sort of mob mentality had taken over. Between the two famous Avengers and the internet sensations surrounding them, everyone lost their minds. You tried to push against the tide, tried desperately to keep your eyes on either of them, but the crush of the crowd was too much. Your throat choked up in fear- you couldn’t even call out for them. You were carried away by the wave. It seemed to go on forever and you couldn’t stop it as it pushed you farther and farther away. 

Finally there was a break in the people that had been crowding you, and you pushed with all your might to get free of the mob. Trying to keep calm and be brave, you looked around, remembering Rule #2 as hard as you could. Your heart leapt when you saw a long mane of red hair a distance away, and you instantly ran towards it, thinking it was Aunt Natasha. Just as you were about to throw your arms around the woman, she suddenly turned. It wasn’t Auntie Nat. You mumbled an awkward apology and ran in the other direction, embarrassed. 

Gulping hard to try to keep your scared sobs inside, you came to a halt. You looked around and didn’t see anything you recognized. There was a pretty, tall fountain with an angel on top close to you, but you didn’t remember it from before. “Light up shoes and stay put,” you whispered to yourself. “Light up shoes and stay put.” You stomped your feet as hard as you could, seeing the rainbow lights activate. You looked around desperately, waiting for them to come and rescue you. You stomped harder and harder, the tears building in your eyes. No Papa. No Daddy. You slowly walked the few steps to the fountain and carefully sat down, the tears now running down your face. Every now and then, you stomped your feet to keep the shoes lit up. “Please find me,” you whispered tearfully, pleading into the air. 

Suddenly, there were shrieks and gasps coming from in front of you. You looked up to see people suddenly rushing to the sides, looking like they were dodging to get out of the way of a speeding train. And they were. A speeding train in the form of Daddy. 

Bucky came racing towards you faster than you’d ever seen anyone run. You could almost see the flames coming off his feet. The crowd parted for him, but he didn’t give two flying fucks if he ran any of them over. With barely a bend of the knees, he came flying over the stone balustrade walls surrounding the fountain, his eyes locked on your tiny form. All you could do was reach your hands to him before he reached you, scooping you up and crushing you to his chest like he was never going to let you go again. 

You just clung to him, still too frightened to do anything else. “Hey, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here and he’s not letting you go,” Bucky was murmuring into your ear, so fast you could barely make out the words. “I am so sorry baby. Daddy will never let that happen again, you hear me? Never again. Never, never again. I’m right here.” You just whimpered and nodded, your tears soaking the front of his shirt. You heard another set of feet come to a screeching halt near you, but you were still too worked up to turn to see if it was Papa. You knew if it wasn’t, Daddy was going to keep you safe, and that was all you could handle at the moment. “Deep breaths, baby, can you do that for me? Can you take some deep breaths?” Daddy asked frantically, tilting his head back to look at you. “Can you take some deep breaths with me? Some deep breaths with Daddy?” You managed to nod again, and relief flooded his face. “That’s my good girl. Okay, we’re gonna sit down and take some breaths together.”

Bucky sat on the edge of the fountain where he’d found you. He turned you in his lap so you could see Steve sitting next to the both of you. Your left hand shot out instantly, needing to touch him too. Steve took your hand, covering it with his other, stroking and patting it, his eyes a warring storm of fear and relief, while Bucky held you tight, 

“Okay, baby, let’s breathe together. You remember how we breathe when we’re scared?” Daddy asked, looking down at you, his tone a bit calmer now. You could see he was still struggling too, and that gave you the nudge to be brave enough to breathe together. You nodded. “We can do it. We’ll do it together, Daddy and Baby. Okay, here we go. Breathe in.” You two locked eyes and breathed in, Bucky counting as he inhaled. “One, two, three, four,” he said on the air, then nodded at you. You held your breath with him as his lips moved, counting to four again, but not letting any air out. “Breathe out, one, two, three, four, five, six,” Bucky said, keeping his eyes locked on you while you went through the exercise together. He silently counted to six as you held your breath again. You went through the cycle three times together, feeling better and better each time. When you finished, Daddy smiled proudly at you. “I knew you could do it, Baby. Daddy loves you so much.”

“Love you too Daddy,” you said, tucking your forehead into his chest again, happy that he was okay now too. You brought Papa’s hand up to your face. “Love you too Papa.” You squeezed his fingers, pressing them in to your cheek.

“Papa loves you so much,” Steve responded, his voice tight with emotion. “Are you okay honey?” You pursed your lips for a moment, but nodded. 

“M’okay. Big peoples.”

“Yeah, that crowd was crazy, right?”

“Too loud.”

“Definitely too loud. I’m so sorry baby, that should never have happened.”

“They all go away?”

“Yeah, they’re all away now. You remember how Uncle Tony says that he can watch everybody everywhere?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he saw on his cameras that the mean crowd was bothering us and his flying suits came to help.”

“WOW.”

“We’ll have to thank him when we get home.”

“Okay, I help.”

Both your daddies chuckled, relieved that you were starting to sound like you again. “What do you think, Baby? Do you want to go home?” Bucky asked, bouncing you a little, trying to gauge how you were feeling. 

“Um,” you said. Now that you were over the fear, you weren’t QUITE ready to be back inside just yet. “We look at duckies please?” The men exchanged a quick look, checking in with each other, before they turned back to you, smiling. 

“Okay, Trouble, we will go look at the ducks,” Bucky said softly, before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good manners.” He stood up and was about to tell you that you were only staying at the park if he carried you for the rest of the day, but the iron grip you had on his tee shirt and the way your legs locked around his waist let him know that you had no intention of being set down, anyways. He pressed another kiss into your hair. 

They walked to a quieter section by the water, grinning and laughing as you insisted on pointing to each and every duck, naming them one by one. After about ten minutes, Steve got a pedicab to get you all back to the street so you wouldn’t have to walk through all the people again. You’d made a full recovery by the time you all got back to Avengers’ Tower, babbling excitedly about all the ducky friends you’d made today and making plans to bring them bread tomorrow.

But Bucky still didn’t set you down for the rest of the evening. And you were okay with that. 

[mooodyblue]

Lillyyyyy I just had an Idea, so what if when Elvis is filming his 68 comeback special he has to take the reader who is little with him and the colonel doesn’t like one bit of it so when Elvis is filming some back Tom Parker goes to his dressing room to pick on the reader and he says hurtful things to her like “you’re nothing but a gold digger” and other mean things to where she goes nonverbal and when Ep comes back into his dressing room he just sees the colonel picking with her hair ripping her drawing up and knocking everything she had over he even witnessed what the colonel told her. Ep barges in and starts yelling at the colonel and tells him to stay away from us but the colonel rolls his eyes and puts up an argument saying things like “she is distracting you! Can’t you see that, putting up this act. She’s acting like a full on baby.” You can finish the rest ❤️

ty for the request! this was super fun to write. i love writing anything that involves making the colonel out to be the most annoying man to ever exist 😈

pairing: 60s!elvis x little!gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

-> masterlist

you watched as elvis adjusted himself in his dressing room, dressed in black leather with his hair done up nicely. you knew how important this day was for him. he was beaming with nervousness and excitement and of course, you were as well. maybe too excited as you had gone down right before it was time to leave for nbc studios.

he didn’t mind if you were little, it didn’t bother him at all. you always understood that elvis has a job to do and that he can’t play with you every single second of the day—especially today of all days. 

but again, you were so excited for him. you loved watching him get dressed in all the different outfits, performing his heart out just like he should have been doing all these years. today he’d be filming in front of an audience which you knew he was horrified about, thankfully the cuteness he had to endure from a little you helped ease his mind off his stress and anxieties. 

he buttoned up his jacket, giving you a soft smile as he watched you doodle in a little notebook with your crayons, a messy bow in your hair from his attempt at doing your hair earlier that morning. elvis crouched down at the table, looking down at the notebook. “you're so talented, honey.” he grinned. “you gonna draw somethin’ for me for when i get out? a nice lil’ reward for daddy's hard work?” he teased, pinching your cheek as you let out a soft squeal. 

you nodded excitedly, “mhm!” you grinned. “‘m gonna draw daddy!” 

he let out a gasp, “really!” he placed a kiss onto your scalp, ruffling your hair a bit before standing up. “you make me look real good, baby. alright? i wanna see it when i finish up here.” 

“okay, daddy!” you nodded, “good luck!” 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you kept to yourself, music booming from outside his dressing room. you hummed and rocked to his voice as you continued to draw, making sure your drawing of elvis was as perfect as he hoped for. 

the faint sound of a door opening and closing filled your ears, followed up with the tapping of a cane. you lifted your head, looking at the larger and older man in front of you. 

now, you were well aware of how his manager strongly disapproved of you. but elvis never cared, it was his personal life–not the colonel's. he did make you nervous though, he didn't understand you being an age regressor. he didnt understand why you felt the need to act like a toddler, being helpless at your big age. 

you gulped looking up at him, watching how he hovered over you and looked at the array of crayons, markers and at the little gear you had around you. elvis brought along your sippy cup and a paci, as well as a few coloring books and toys to keep you entertained until he finished up with filming for the day.

“look at all this junk, this garbage.” the colonel spat, pointing at the table with his cane. 

you sat there silently, trying to keep your mouth shut just like elvis told you. you held your head down, going back to your drawing. 

he wasn't having it, scoffing at you and shaking his head. “you're a grown person, wearing bows in your hair and coloring like a toddler.” he shook his head. “you're dating elvis presley and this is what you choose to do in your free time?” 

“he still loves me.” you muttered. 

his cane met with your drawing, creating a circular stain of dirt right in the middle of the paper. “you're nothin’ but a gold diggin’ freak who acts like a baby to get what they want. now i demand you get up from this floor and go out there and support the man you supposedly love.” he said sternly. 

you looked up at him, tears in your eyes. he ruined your pretty drawing for elvis. if he wanted you out in the audience so badly, he would have asked. but he didn't, you were staying out of his way just as he wished. you certainly weren't a gold digger either. you didn't ask elvis to buy you nice things, it's just what he did. he didn't know what no meant, he did it out of the kindness of his heart and his love for you. 

words were formed in your brain to spit back at the old man in front of you, but nothing could come out. you had an ashamed look on your face, glancing down at the now-ruined drawing that sat on the table. 

“are you listening?” he asked, stomping his cane again. “get up!” 

you shook your head and stayed in your spot, refusing to get up for the colonel. but enough was enough for him, he ripped out the pretty bow that elvis had put in your hair just for you and stuck his cane under your arm, trying to force you up. that alone stood you up, cheeks now stained with tears as he picked up your drawing, ripping it in half in front of your very own eyes. 

outside the dressing room, there were loud cheers—the music finally coming to an end. maybe that meant elvis was coming back. 

foot steps were approaching, the sound of leather rubbing as he walked and laughter got closer and closer–finally coming to a halt once the door was opened. there stood elvis, turning his head to look at the scene in front of him. 

he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his face turned red with anger. “now, what in the goddamn hell are you doin’?!” he shouted, storming in and pushing his manager away. “you putin’ your hands on my baby? or am i just imagining things, huh?” 

the colonel stumbled back, scoffing again and shaking his head. “this child of yours has been nothing but a distraction!” he argued. “they’re doing nothing for you except sitting back here playing with toys all while you do the hard work. can’t you see you’re being used?”

“the hell i am!” he yelled, “what i do with them and what they do in their own time ain’t nobodies business but mine and theirs. not you.” he pointed his finger angrily at parker, his eyes full of anger and fury. 

“mr. presley, i will not stand here and watch them put on such an embarassing act for you. they’re acting like a baby! can’t you see the problem here?” 

“oh, i can see a problem alright.” elvis spat, putting his hands on his hips. he turned his head to you, looking at the sad look on your face. his heart broke seeing what that awful manager of his did to you, your hair ruined and the drawing he was so excited to see now torn apart on the floor. he walked over to you, rubbing your back as the colonel stood there still disgusted by the look of you. 

“you alright, baby?” he cooed, trying to calm you down. “what did that mean man do to my baby, hm?” you didn’t respond, instead burying your face in his neck as you let out a soft whine. he could tell when you couldn’t speak. one of your ways of dealing with stressful situations, especially when they happen so sudden, was to become unable to speak. he never pressured you to say a single word if you didn’t want to.

however, it angered him that you were bullied to the point of going nonverbal. he wasn’t going to stand for that. the pretty little face he saw before heading on stage looked so broken, he wanted that version of you back. 

he stepped up to his manager, getting right in his face. “i ain’t afraid of you.” he said lowly. “you stay the hell away from them. if i see you lay even a finger on them, you’ll pay. i’ll make sure of it.” he took a deep breath, looking back at you then at him. “get the hell out of my dressin’ room.”

it was clear he wanted to argue more, but he left with a scowl on his face—making his way out of the dressing room and slamming the door behind him. 

elvis sighed, turning to look at you before pulling you in for a hug. you sobbed on his shoulder, holding him tightly and never wanting to let go. “i know, baby.” he rubbed at your back again, cooing softly in your ear. “i’m sorry, honey. i’m so sorry.” he pulled away, pressing his lips against your forehead with a soft smile. “lets see that lil’ picture you drew for me.”

your eyes darted to the ripped-up drawing on the floor, a pout on your face as he walked over to pick it up. “nah, we can save it!” 

he put the ripped-up pieces together in front of his face, grinning widely. “see! look at that. you’re so talented, baby!” it was just a mere drawing of a stick figure, a poor attempt at drawing a white suit on white paper on the said figure. but in his eyes, it was the best thing he had ever seen.