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im-high-on-reylo · 17 days

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Better with you- Barley x Reader

Fandom: Pixar’s Onward

Pairing: Barley Lightfoot x reader

Warnings: angst, hurt feelings, fluff

Summary: Barley is distracted writing a new campaign, reader feels neglected. There’s some hurt feelings that have to be worked out. And as usual cutesie fluffs.

A/N- So the idea of s/o is too busy with a hobby/video game thing is kinda toxic on different sides depending on the situation…

But I wanted to do a thing where everyone’s a little wrong, everyone’s a little right and they eventually do the mature thing and talk it out.

I’m aware this is not a possible thing in every situation like this… If you’re s/o knows you’re upset and is belittling or being a jerk about it there’s a problem there… If they try to manipulate you or make you choose between them and a thing you really like you need to think about the relationship… and maybe make a change… (PSA over <3 )

❀✦ Master List✦❀

You didn’t want to be the kind of girlfriend who needed constant attention. The kind that got jealous when her boyfriend spent a lot of time with friends or on a hobby. You were pleased he was enthusiastic about his game and you wanted to be involved with the things that made him happy. To share his joy and watch his face light up with enthusiasm.

Barley was really excited about the new “QoY” campaign he was writing. However, he wouldn’t let you help, sorta refusing to talk about it with you or answer questions.

It had been a couple of days now, and it was starting to get to you. You were lonely and sad, and you couldn’t really figure out why. [Besides the obvious]

He’d respond to texts, yes, but often long after you had sent yours, and often with quick answers.

<Good morning, how are you?> sent 9:38pm

<Okay> sent 6:20pm

<How was your day?> sent 6:25pm

All night phone calls were one sided if they even happened at all anymore.

When you came over he wouldn’t ignore you but… often he’d remember something he’d forgotten to write down, or a solution to a problem would hit him. He’d call you his muse, but muses inspired people… they didn’t get cuddles from them.

So after a while of brewing you thought up a plan that was sure to get his attention.

Barley wasn’t ignoring you intentionally. He just happened to have had an amazing idea for his next campaign and was really excited about it; eager to iron out all the details, and get it ready.

He was nearly finished, only a few more npc’s and random encounters left to figure out, and he’d be able to spend all day playing with you and other friends.

[Ding]

Leaning back, taking a swig of his ‘mountain doom’ soda Barley sees the ‘new message’ light blinking on his phone. He remembers, with a twinge of guilt, that he hadn’t responded to your last message… four hours ago?!

Setting down the can he grabs his phone. He chokes in surprise when he sees the content of the newest message.

A picture…

Of you…

Looking sexy with only your underwear on…

And the cutest innocent expression on your face.

<Miss me? I miss you… 3> > sent 10:15 pm. It reads.

You had never sent him pictures like this before. You rarely took pictures of yourself at all, claiming not to like how you look in them. (He disagreed)

And now he was looking at you, nearly nude, posing for him.

You had only intended on having a little fun teasing your boyfriend, getting him back a little for ignoring you for days, but mostly you hadn’t expected the picture to work at all. You anticipated a response in a few hours maybe telling you he liked your new bra.

This didn’t happen as only five minutes went by before your phone rang.

Barley’s name, and cute little face pop up on your screen, and for a moment you toy with the idea of not answering. Deciding that would be immature and pointless you steel yourself, and hit the answer button.

“Barley-baby how are you? Is everything okay?” you smile, hoping your voice sounded casual, your heart pounding.

“You naughty minx” he laughs.

“Whaa?” you feign innocence.

“The picture you sent me?”

“What- oh that wasn’t supposed to go to you” you pretend to sound concerned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You could hear the hurt and worry in his voice. It clutches your heart and you decide to pull back.

“I mean… they weren’t supposed to go to you yet… not until you were done working and had time to spend with me again”

“They? There’re more?”

“Mhm” You had planned to take several pictures, each more dirty than the last, and send them one after the other ‘till he responded.

You hear him pause, “Baby I…” his sad tone hurts you and you regret starting this. You didn’t want to hurt him, and knew you had.

“I’m sorry- I’m being selfish” you say softly but he doesn’t seem to hear you.

“I gotta go” he tells you and it feels like a knife to the heart.

“O-okay” you manage to squeak out, forcing the tears back.

It was your own fault, you know. He didn’t owe you unlimited attention. His interests and feelings were important too. He certainly deserved some time alone. You wanted to be a baby about it and decided to tease him. To what end? You hurt him, and yourself.

With a small sob you send one last text before turning off your phone. <I’m sorry- I love you <3 > sent 10:35 pm.

You decide to get ready for bed and deal with the repercussions in the morning. You’d go over and talk to him, like an adult. Hopefully he can forgive you and you both can come to a compromise.

You brush your teeth, remove your make-up, and slip into an oversized night shirt. The complete opposite of the way you looked in that photo.

Finding some movie to zone off watching, you slip into bed and press play.

After a few minutes you’re no longer paying attention to the movie and nearly asleep. You don’t hear your front door open, or someone move through the house.

You jump when your bedroom door opens, only relaxing once you recognize who it was.

You feel several things in quick succession: Fear, relief, joy, sadness, and finally settle on anger. You assumed he had come over for a quickie not realizing how upset you were? Did he really brush you off and then turn around and come over to get laid?

No! That was your fear talking, you knew Barley wasn’t like that… Why were you acting like this?

Your emotions settle back to sadness as you look at him, in the dim light across your room.

He’s beautiful standing there, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, smile gentle. He watches you, seemingly reading all the thoughts raging through your head. His attention seems to turn to the tv.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to watch this one” he says moving towards you.

You watch him with wide eyes as he takes off his shoes, and jacket.

“Mind If I stay and watch?” he’s already climbing into bed with you.

“It’s already halfway through” you say softly, suddenly very warm as he pulls you against him. He sits behind you, arms, around your middle, holding you securely.

“That’s okay, you can tell me all about it” he nuzzles into your neck, kissing it gently.

“We-we’re- are we talking about the movie?” you frown.

“We can talk about anything you want,” he tells you.

You relax into him with a sigh.

“The girl is lonely, and I think she’s afraid,” you tell him suddenly.

“Oh?” he encourages you to continue.

“She’s worried the boy will realize he doesn’t like her, doesn’t need her, and he’ll leave…” you bite your lip fighting back tears.

He squeezes you slightly, “I don’t think that’ll happen”

You look up at him, eyes shiny, “But- you’re okay without me…” you tell him.

He nods, “Yeah, I am”

Your eyes widen and the tears threaten to fall.

“But I’m better with you,” he brushes a thumb over your cheek, wiping away some tears.

You frown, “But I’m…”

“Beautiful, kind, generous, a little crazy, mine…” he answers, nuzzling into you. “You’re always there for me when I need you, I just wanted to do something we can enjoy together”

“Together? But you’ve been ignoring me” you pout.

“You had told me you wanted to try and play Quests with me… so I wanted to hurry up and finish writing an awesome story so we can play” he told you and hurt your heart, he was being sweet and you misconstrued his actions like a scared baby.

“Oh Barley, I’m really sorry” you lean into him.

“I’m sorry too, I should have paid more attention, seen that you were upset…” he tells you.

“No I should have been more mature” you frown, making a mental note to try and be more level headed.

“How about we both take some blame and try to be better in the future?”

“Deal” you relax in his hold, arms resting over his.

You watch the movie for a little while, mostly just enjoying being in each other’s arms, finding something else when it ends. You had both silently decided he was spending the night; and at some point he’d removed his pants and got more comfortable in your bed.

“Now about those other pictures?” he smiles playfully at you after a while of not speaking.

“There are no other pictures…” you blush.

“You tease” he pokes you.

You giggle softly, “I guess I can take one more” you blush.

“Okay, one more,” Barley agrees, pulling out his phone.

“Now? But I look-”

“Beautiful as always” Barley insists, kissing your flushed cheek and snapping the picture.

#barley lightfoot #Barley x reader #fanfic #barley lightfoot x reader

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im-high-on-reylo · 17 days

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15 • Babysitter / tickletober 2023

Prompts: miya&mias tickletober

Pairing: romantic - gn!Reader x Barley Lightfoot + brotherly banter: Barley & Ian Lightfoot (Onward)

Type: Fanfic (2.9 K)

A/N: …don’t look at me… okay, okay. Barley Lightfoot? A teasing, playful, KIND goofball with Chris Pratt’s voice? He had to get his own spot in my t’tober. He’s cute and because he has this open hearted mind? It’s a perfect story for a gender neutral reader love story ♥️ and you can’t say anything against it! Enjoy.

Warnings? Romantic fluff- a little tickling. Sfw. Oh and big brother tickle monster duties. Yup. That’s it. 😉

- - - - - - -

„Alright. Library card, bag and your books, Ian. Have a nice day and happy reading!“, you smiled at Ian Lightfoot. He was a very friendly kid and, most importantly, a regular - plus a good friend of yours. Before his sixteenth birthday, he was always here - like nearly every day - reading books about mourning, science and socializing. When you weren’t here for a shift (a couple of hours a week) you were a regular yourself, studying for your classes at the community college. Your favorite courses were about creative writing and photography, your least favorite courses were about accounting and statistics. ‚It’s what pays the bills’, you could hear and see your grandpa, pointing his finger at you. Since Ian had turned sixteen and became a wizard, he was still frequently visiting the library, but his book taste changed as well as his behavior. He was more open, communicating a lot and surrounded by his friends from science class quite frequently. You were happy for him.

From your sitting perspective, behind the library counter, your view almost fully blocked. The high tower of books between the both of you build a wall. It was quite the collection, all about ancient magic, magical history, spells and, interestingly, quests.

„There you are!“, a rumbling voice appeared in the hall of your work place: „Let me lend you a hand, and…“, a boisterous even taller elf (no regular) was now standing next to your recent customer. He was looking at, yes, what exactly?

„And?“, Ian asked. Nothing.

„Barley?“, he tried again, but those green eyes were still focused on… the books?

„Eh… hi?!“, his voice was a little softer now, less booming, a little raspier than before. Wait a sec. Was he looking at you? You could feel the heat of your blushing cheeks.

„Hi“, you whispered, clearing your throat, a second „Hi“, a little louder now, followed. Ian rolled his eyes, sighing, but with a smile: „I am sorry, Y/N, my brother is…“, he looked up at him: „…sometimes awkward.“, he chuckled softy. It worked.

„Hey!“, Barley Lightfoot defrosted, instantly, from his staring at, well, you and shoved his younger sibling a little to the side.

„Don’t embarrass me“, he hissed, you tried to stiffen a laugh, due to their familial banter.

„Oh? I am embarrassing you, huh?“, the boys were moving quickly in-front of your counter: „Wahait, noho!“

In the end, Barley had Ian locked with his arms, his feet were dangling in the air, those books stored in the library-merch bag and, with a wide smile and wiggling eyebrows, he said: „See ya next time!“

„Baharley, lehet me down!“

„Nope. Never!“, he plopped the p and dragged the „er“. You were still sitting behind your desk, shaking your head in slight disbelief. What had just happened?!

That incident was a couple of weeks ago now, but a lot of things have changed since Barley’s first appearance at the library. He returned, to pick up Ian, every single time - sometimes waving his hand at you from afar, when you were busy behind the counter, sometimes leaning on the edge of your desk, when you were „off-duty“ - those were the little moments, he chose to constantly flirt with you. Barley wasn’t shy at all - he wasn’t afraid of anything. That’s what he told you. That’s what Ian told you, with a little smirk: „But he actually is afraid of something.“

„Aha?“, you were reading a specific sentence again and again, since Ian had started a conversation about his older brother. You tried to hide your blushing cheeks behind the pages.

„Listen to me“, Ian poked you into your side.

„Whahey!“, you giggled. Another poke. The book was on your lab now, while you were holding up your hands: „Okay, okay. I listen.“

„My big brother is afraid of something.“

„Interesting. And what is that?“, a now familiar voice asked, right behind your backs.

You leaned your head back, to look up at Barley, meanwhile, Ian tried to get up and away, but his older sibling pushed him back onto his chair, both hands on either side of his shoulders: „Enlighten me. What am I afraid of?“

„Nothing. Nothing at all.“, Ian squeaked.

„That’s what I thought.“, the older one hummed, gently slapping his shoulders: „Ready to leave?“

„Yes!“, Ian and you answered unison.

„Perfect!“

You’d spend more and more time in Barleys van, Guinevere II, with the two chaotic Lightfoot-siblings. When you finally met their mom, you’d fallen so hard for this family. You adored their stepdad too. Officer Bronco was a little clumsy, a little too loud, but he loved his wife and her sons dearly. He reminded you of your grandpa Pops. You’ve grown up as an only-child in his house. You couldn’t remember your parents. Pops was your entire family. You loved him dearly, but you enjoyed the loud loving chaos of the Lightfoot-household.

„Barley“, his mom hissed somewhere in the kitchen, while you tried to laugh, genuinely, at officer bronco’s joke - Ian was making fun of it behind him.

„What, mom?“, her older son hissed back.

„Get a move on“, she laughed. You blushed, gnawing at your lower lip.

„Moohooom!“, he whined. Ian looked at you, nodding: „See? He’s afraid to date you.“ whispering. You blushed. That’s not it, right?

„So, we’re off now“, Laurel said, standing next to the entry door, wearing an elegant jumpsuit.

„You look nice, Ma!“, Ian said in awe. Barley whistled.

„Oh shush, you two!“, their mother laughed, waving at her second-husband: „Let’s go“.

„It’s true! You look rahavishing“, Bronco neighed. She smiled, blushing.

„Enough of that! Oh and Y/N?“

„Yes?“, you were still a little paralyzed by Ian’s words.

„Thanks for babysitting!“, Laurel said.

„What?!“, Ian gasped.

„Oh, not you. At least, not in the first place.“

„WHAT?!“, Barley growled.

Laurel giggled: „Oh, I am just glad someone else keeps an eye on“, she smiled: „Blazey“, but when the two boys sighed an „OH“ unison, she winked at you real quick.

They left, to celebrate their anniversary, while you stayed with the Lightfoot-boys over at their place. Blazey, the pet dragon, was snoring at one of their favorite spots right next to the TV.

Barley announced: „It’s quest time“, and dived under the couch, to grab a certain board game. Ian, still standing in the middle of the room, winked at you and announced: „No quest solving for me today“ and with that, he ran around the sofa, up the stairs, into his room. He had other plans today.

„What? Ouch!“, Barley had bumped his head, still under the couch.

„He’s gone“, you said, lifting your feet onto the sofa, snuggling into one of the corners, surrounded by pretty cushions.

„But…“, Barley’s face popped up: „it’s not a game for two.“ You looked up at the ceiling, when you heard Ian’s soft laughter: „I think he has a crush on someone from his science group.“, you chuckled.

„Is that so?“, Barley was still gazing at you, softly, with a crooked smile on his lips.

„Ah-ha, yes.“, you whispered.

„What about you?“

„What… about me?“

„Do you have a crush?“, you gulped - your cheeks were blushing in no-time: „I… eh…“

„Yes?“

„Maybe?“, you narrowed your eyes, chewing on your bottom lip again until Barley’s thumb softly pulled at it gently, freeing that lip from your teeth.

„Is it someone from college?“

„No?“

„A colleague?“

„No?“

Every time you answered with „No“, you could feel his breath and warmth more and more, the blue elf was leaning towards you.

„A neighbor?“

„Noho?“, you giggled, because your neighbors were nice but in Pop’s age. Nothing you fancied. Actually, you were one year younger than Barley with his 19 years of age and quest-wisdom

„A friend?“, his nose touched yours now. You looked up, stiffening, surprised by his gentle look at you.

„Yes?“

„Who?“, he was kneeling right in front of you, his hands on each side of your legs now.

„A Lightfoot“

„Ian?“, he frowned.

„Noho, silly.“, you giggled, shaking your head a little, so the tip of your nose caressed over his own: „It’s you!“

Barley sighed, gasped, smiled and cheered: „YEHES!“

And with lightning speed, he lifted his upper body onto the couch to, well, kiss you eventually. You giggled, delighted and surprised against his lips. After a while, the both of you had turned and tossed yourselves around, you have found a comfortable position. You were both lying on your sides, your back pressed against the back of the couch, while Barley’s arms were wrapped around you, your own all around his neck. You were still kissing when Ian rushed down the stairs: „HEY!“, your own eyes opened immediately but Barley kept his closed, still kissing you. Ian gasped: „What’s going on here?“

You could hear his smirk - the one he shared with his older brother. Barley, eyes open now, looked over your shoulder, where Ian stood - smirking and lurking: „Go away.“

„Get a room.“, Ian laughed.

„Go away!“, Barley growled, against your lips. You giggled in his embrace, not really sure about what might happen next.

„By the way, I am going to tell mom ALL about it.“

„You won’t!“, another growl, lower, more dangerous now.

„Oh, I will.“

Barley looked at you, one eyebrow up, smirking: „Sorry. Big brother duties.“, he whispered. He kissed you, one last time. A second later, you could hear Ians soft laughter, his speedy steps on the stairs, the booming laughter and the heavier steps of his brother right behind him. You giggled, when you heard Ian squeak and laugh, Barley’s muffled voice followed. You were way too curious, to just stay here on the sofa. So, you went up the stairs of the two-story mushroom house. The wood creaked under your foot, when you got up another step. Suddenly, little footsteps were hurrying through the ground floor - Blazey showed up, wiggling through your legs while he ran upstairs. A moment later, Ian shrieked: „Blahazey, don’t!“

You sneaked further upstairs, localizing the brotherly play-fight. You stopped your movements, leaning against Barley’s doorframe, to watch those two. Barley, using all his physical superiority, had Ian on his back, underneath him, wiggling on the floor. You looked at them, looked at his room - it was messy but also lively with all the posters, board games, the console and little warrior-figures on the desk, the floor, everywhere. Blazey sneaked between them, every now and then, happy to be a part of the action. He licked over Ian’s face, who giggled again: „Noho, Blazey. Get him! Not me!“, just to squeak afterwards: „Get ohoff of me.“, at his older brother. Barley squeezed the sides of the younger one rapidly, knowing all the weak spots of his sibling, with a wide, wolfish grin on his face: „You know, you deserve this.“

„Nohooho“, the tall yet slender Ian squealed, wiggling underneath the teasing hands of his brother, who had just started a sneak attack on his ribs. When Ian shrieked and laughed because of that, you couldn’t help yourself, a giggle escaped your own lips. Both heads turned around, facing the door and you now. Barley grinned, while his fingers were still all over his younger brother’s weak spots. Ian with red cheeks, gasped: „Pleheease, help me.“, while Blazey thought it would be awesome to lick over his face again. Barley wiggled his eyebrows up and down: „No, help me!“

„That’s your fight, boys.“, you giggled: „I am sorry, Ian. And Barley? Keep him alive, okay? I don’t wanna get arrested for bad babysitter-qualities, just because one brother tickled the other one to death.“

„HEHEY!“, Ian shrieked.

Barley growled: „Whahat?“, looking at his younger brother underneath him, his fingers stopped moving. Your crush was strong, yet gentle, kind and playful. You’ve had silently fallen in love with these qualities, but today was the day you learned to fear them. He was quick though. You didn’t even reach the stairs, when his strong arms wrapped around your torso, lifting you up, to carry you to his bed.

„Baharley!“, you squealed, wiggling in his embrace, your feet were in the air, dangling around. You got a glimpse of Ian, still giggling, rosy cheeks and a hand on his tummy, while he looked at you.

„Ian, pleahease. Help me.“

„Nope.“, the p plopped: „You didn’t help me either.“

„That’s true.“, Barley laughed, tousling his little brother’s hair.

With an unexpected „oomph“, your body landed on the bouncing mattress, right next to the older Lightfoot. You tried to crawl away, but Barley was all over you in an instant: „Nowhere to go, hun.“, he whispered, his gaze was glistening with amusement and pure playful joy: „Iaaaaaan“, you screeched again, maybe your friend would help you now?

„No, that’s your fight, lovebirds“, and with that? He left. Blazey was looking at you, his tail wiggled against the bed frame. Bang. Bang.

„Any last words?“ You were flat on your back, giggling on the cozy duvet and underneath your date. He immobilized you: your wrists were stuck between your chests, his legs were on top of yours, and he was holding his own body up on one arm, bend next to yours. It was like a one-sided push-up, without the movement. His hair wasn’t as curly as Ians, but it had the same blue tone, falling loosely around his face. His smile grew wider. Gosh, you just wanted to kiss him, caress his hair and look at him all night long. How could an elf be this beautiful? How could you be so lucky?

„Baharley, please. Can’t we just… kiss again?“, you cooed, tilting your head a little sideways.

„Nope.“ (Who of them started this plopping p, huh?)

„Please?“

„Later, hun.“, his eyebrows wiggled up and down again: „I have to check something first.“

„Dohon’t mess with me. I am not even ticklish!“

„Oh-ho! I don’t believe you. Because…“, he lowered his right hand, free to rule over your body, close to your waist now: „Ian poked you right“ - poke - „here at the library.“ You tensed underneath his body and touch.

„Uh-uh!“, you giggled, already blushing and flustered.

„Oh yes“, he whispered, low and with a mocking tone. His fingertips were caressing over your side now, up and down, from hips to ribs. It was oh so teasingly slow but tormenting at the same time. You shook your head a little, trying to block his tingling touches. Soft yet knowing movements followed your body, all over your waist and side, tummy and ribs. His fingertips were hitting every nerve of your skin very precise, constantly.

„Hohow?“, you squealed again.

„I am a big brother. I have a lot of experience as a tickle monster. I am very skilled.“, he chuckled, when you rolled your eyes at him, giggling. After what felt like ages, his fingertips stopped to caress over the thin fabric of your shirt. He smiled down at you, caressing over your hair a couple of times: „You’re beautiful“, he whispered.

„I aham not. I have a red face and I am sweaty.“, you weren’t good at taking compliments, at all.

„Hun? If I say you’re beautiful, you have to believe me. Okay? Because you are!“, he replied softly, his boisterous voice low and raspy. You shook your head, and shrieked, when Barley’s arm wormed itself underneath your back, just to turn both of you around, you were now on top of his huge, soft body, his arms wrapped around you. His grip was tight, but gentle. He leaned up a little, kissing your nose, your cheek, your other cheek, your lips and, suddenly, he kissed your neck. An alarmed jolt rushed through your body. His stubble was scratching lightly over your sensitive skin, along with his soft lips - a double tease.

„Noho, Baharley, please“, you squealed, trying to wiggle free but his embrace kept you in your spot on top of his torso. You couldn’t get away, you couldn’t cover your neck with your shoulders. All you could do? Laugh your head off, while a certain blue elf enjoyed to tease you. Another eternity later, Barley let go of you because you accepted his compliment, finally: „Baharley, okay, okay. I agree. I am beautiful.“

„See? Not so difficult, huh?“, he giggled, genuinely. After that? You both cuddled again, limbs entangled and lips on lips.

„Please, let me go now.“

„Nope!“, he chuckled, while you tried to escape his embrace and kisses.

"I have to pee!“

„Not my problem.“

„But it’s yohour bed.“

„True“, he laughed, when you ran away.

„Kssssst“

Nothing.

„Ksssssssssst“, you hissed: „Iaaaaaaan“

„Huh? Oh! Hey!“, your library pal was on the couch, reading: „What’s up?“, he looked up at you while you looked down at him, crouched, from the top level of the stairs: „Ian, please…“, you whispered: „Your brother is ticklish somewhere, right?“

„Oh“, he laughed: „Yeah. It’s hard to get him. He is a natural at blocking it. And strong“

You nodded, whispering: „So strong“

„Try his feet“, the younger Lightfoot suggested: „But be warned. He might kick. And his revenge will be epic.“

„Try his lower back.“, a female voice suggested: „or his knees.“

„Oh, hi Laurel“, you whispered, blushing. Gosh, that was embarrassing.

„How was your anniversary dinner?“

„Delicious. Now go, get him“, she chuckled, officer Bronco neighed and Ian was already with his eyes and mind in his novel. A couple minutes later, all three heads looked up at the ceiling, grinning. Barley’s booming laughter was audible, next to your own soft giggles.

„Yes!“, Ian and their mom cheered. You fought, you were brave - and you lost, in the end. But you were a quick learner. There would be always a next opportunity to get him, another quest to discover a new weak spot.

#barley x Reader #not mine

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