Tumgik
#STILL THE CUTEST COUPLE IN THE END
kagamikoi · 25 days
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prompt for @clintbeefwoods
modern au transfem!jin ling and lan jingyi sharing a lil smooch T4T LINGYI WE LOVE TO SEE IT 💛💙👏
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bsdwherearethedogs · 2 years
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going insane thinking about higugin feeling very lesbian about it
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i crumble completely when you cry ; suguru geto
synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.
word count; 6.2k
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33
a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me
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you’re cold.
little shivers run through your body, down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. the heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt. a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and you manage a weak jolt.
dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path, little petals glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.
it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact; 
you don’t have an umbrella.
at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes feel uncomfortable, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead of you.
you let out a shuddering breath. 
gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite the dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.
you just couldn’t stay there.
some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.
so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green. 
(he put it there just for you.)
maybe you weren’t thinking at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between — it only adds to the sting of his cold voice still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.
you were just worried. is that so awful? 
(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)
a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated and undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary. 
it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, was enough to make your eyes a little glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone makes you feel like you’ve done nothing right in your life.
so you left. because that was all you could do. 
sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing. 
(all the more pathetic.)
so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —
but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does. 
another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless. 
you want to go home.
it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.
you’re just too tired to argue anymore.
he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.
but he just brushed you off.
and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.
suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.
but then he grew frustrated.
”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”
(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)
and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden. 
pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.
pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.
god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while. 
your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel — 
while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples. 
and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.
for a second, you hesitate.
maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —
but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.
and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.
you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.
in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away. 
almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.
and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.
(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)
not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.
you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.
and then he’s walking away again. 
crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.
it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen… 
another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.
but he didn’t even give you that.
that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle. 
for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything. 
you don’t have to think about him at all. 
(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)
— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.
a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.
once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —
worry.
(ah.)
before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.
”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”
suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.
and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.
it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.
you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”
the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.
(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)
as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper. 
he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…
he could only feel guilty.
and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back. 
and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.
(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)
suguru waited. that was all he could do. 
he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.
so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed. 
and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.
like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.
it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —
and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother. 
suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.
(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)
so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…
he failed at maintaining his composure.
he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.
”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”
”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”
suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —
but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad. 
”… okay. got it.”
perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.
”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.
but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.
”tea would be great, thank you.”
you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go. 
he swallows thickly.
(that’s that, then.)
tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.
suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.
caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.
only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.
you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric. 
seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.
”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”
”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.
the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need. 
with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.
(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.
it breaks his heart, a little bit.)
a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.
suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.
finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.
”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”
your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.
here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.
with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort. 
(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)
”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”
the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.
”no. i want to talk about it properly.”
at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.
communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.
and you do, too.
so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.
(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)
suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.
”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.
you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.
”and i realized that you were right.”
you blink. once, then twice.
hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.
he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.
it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited. 
so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.
”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”
suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.
”i’m sorry.”
a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology. 
and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.
suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective. 
and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.
suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you. 
and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?
”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.
and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.
”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”
and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.
”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”
you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.
to let you take care of him.
suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say. 
so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.
”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”
and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.
but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.
”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”
(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —
how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)
you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart. 
”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks. 
”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”
you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.
”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”
you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.
”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.
a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms. 
”then i will.”
for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink. 
oh. 
you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.
it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.
and you want that more than anything. 
so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.
it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.
and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.
how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…
suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.
”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.
that certainly gets your attention.
”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”
suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.
”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”
hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.
and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.
before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.
”you sleeping, baby?”
you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.
”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?” 
suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”
your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.
but for now, you need to get some rest.
allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.
a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.
you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.
3K notes · View notes
moonvis · 3 months
Text
IDIOTS IN LOVE
Steve Rogers x F! Reader
incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony
Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.
Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.
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“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.
Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”
“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.
“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”
“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-
“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”
You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”
You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.
You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.
You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”
Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.
“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.
You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.
The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.
A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.
“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.
The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.
“I know! Old people are the cutest.”
“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”
You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.
“Y/N? Earth to--”
“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.
She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”
“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.
You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”
Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.
“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”
Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter,  would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.
Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”
You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”
Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.
You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.
Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.
You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?
Then, it hits you. Natasha.
Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”
Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.  
“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”
You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.
As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.
Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.
You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?
“Hey.”
The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”
You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass  yourself in front of him again.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.
You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.
“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”
Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.
“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.
“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.
You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”
You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”
You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”
“Y/N-”  
“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,
Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”
Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.
You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.
As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.
You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.
You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.
It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?
As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.  
“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”
“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”
“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”
It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”
You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.
“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.
“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”
“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”
The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?
“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”
“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”  
As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.
It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.
As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”
Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.
Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.
The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”
“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.
“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.
“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.
You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?
“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”
“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”
Steve was blabbering on about you?    
“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.
You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.
You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.
"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.
Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."
You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.
"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.
You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."
"No come on!"
As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.
Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.
All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.
Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.
When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”
“In the gym ma’am.”
You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”
“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”
You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”
Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.
You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.
Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.
Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.
“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”
You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”
You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.
“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”
The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.
Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.
You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”
“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.
“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”
Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”
“Cause none of them were you.”
You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”
“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.
“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”
Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.
Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”
“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”
Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”
“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”
Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.
Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”
You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”
You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.
It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.
You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.  
THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3
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kakiav · 5 months
Text
zoro loves his girl in a bikini ☆彡
nsfw content below! ੈ♡‧₊˚
zoro thinks it’s so cute that every stop they make on the ship you have to go and find a clothing store. nami always accompanies you, trying to score a deal with her charm (it’s works most of the time.) so he doesn’t mind leaving your side for a couple hours, knowing you’re safe due to his rigorous training exercises you join in.
after picking out the cutest bikini in the shop, a dark green color that barely covers your tits and ass. you happily skip back to the ship and sun bathe whilst reading a book robin recommended. once you climb aboard the ship, you change into the bikini underneath a coverup. sanji is often pesters you if you want him to make a drink or food.
laying in your favorite spot, you take off your coverup and begin reading. losing track of time, you fail to notice zoro’s heavy footsteps coming closer to you. only noticing when his shadow blocks the sun.
“hey baby. I didn’t hear you coming aboard? you find anything nice?” you politely ask, taking in the view of zoro’s pants right above your face.
“no. apparently you did though.” zoro chuckles motioning at your swimsuit. “looks like the color I wear.” he crouches next to your face, fingers toying with the bikini straps.
“picked it out for you.”
zoro smirks knowing how eager you are to please him. plus he loves seeing you in those slutty little bikinis that you wear. even though they will end up being torn off.
you sit up to talk face to face, sliding a book mark on the page you finished reading. his hands roam your exposed body, drinking in the view.
“wanna see it more?” zoro nods and sits back against a post, placing his swords next to him. you walk away from him and do a quick 360 turn. he parts his legs feeling his dick stir. doing exactly as your boyfriend likes, jumping up and down watching your breasts jiggle, nipple almost slipping out. followed by you bending over and shaking your ass, arching your back.
“come on sweet girl. go show me how much you love me.” zoro unbuckles his pants and pulls out his cock. obediently you crawl towards him eagerly licking your lips.
placing a kiss on the tip of his cock, zoro tucks your hair behind your ear. you stare at him seductively, stroking his cock with both hands that pushes your tits together. feeling your arousal pooling in the tiny bikini, you get yourself off by sucking zoro off. taking inch by inch into your mouth, lips stretched as much as it will allow you. zoro groans at how you hollow out your cheeks and bob up and down. saliva drips down from the corners of your mouth and onto your chin. since zoro is so big, you jerk off the inch of cock you can suck off. he leans forward to slap your ass earning a gasp out of you and pushes your head down further. steadying your body, you place your hands on his thighs.
“love my cock huh? you drunk off of it already?” he taunts but you’re too busy slobbering over his cock. your eyes sting with tears, snot starting to come out of your nose. zoro rests a hand on the small of your body, soothing you.
“y/n-chan! are you okay? do you need my help?” sanji shouts, he must have just come back from the island. grocery bags still in his hands.
“she’s fine mr. nosebleed. busy sucking me off.” zoro nonchalantly answers as you moan around his cock at the fact sanji is watching you please your man.
the blond cook struggles to form words, rushing into the kitchen to stop his nose from bleeding. you stop and take a deep breath, wiping your nose.
“did I say you can stop?” he deliveres a harsh blow to your asscheek. whining at the pain, you focus back on the task of making zoro cum quickly. mainly for him to hurry up and rip off your bikini, fucking you senselessly.
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lemonlover1110 · 5 months
Text
Double Trouble
Dad Series
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Toji Fushiguro
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“I want a baby sister!” Koemi randomly spurts out one faithful morning. It makes Toji choke on his breakfast, hitting his chest a couple of times to cough up the bit of food that’s in his throat. There’s no way that Toji will agree to that, especially after he got them into a preschool and he has his life back.
Toji has never glared at Koemi before, but for the first time in his life he does. You agreed you don’t want more kids because twins are more than enough. Toji looks at you, and you’re taken back just as he is. You shake your head, and Toji says, “Never in a million years.”
“It’s not fair! Kisho has Megumi and I have no one.” Koemi yells, and Toji decides that he won’t start his day by arguing with someone that still has their baby teeth.
“You have your brothers, honey. You don’t need a baby sister.” You assure her, but that isn’t enough to convince her tiny brain. She’s stubborn, just like her father.
Koemi is smart, she knows how to convince you. She sneaks and takes the photo album that you have for the twins, leaving it on the coffee table. She runs to you when you notice it and pick it up, looking innocently as she asks, “What’s that, mommy?”
“Oh, nothing, baby. Just photos from when you and your brother were babies– When you couldn’t properly talk since you two are still babies in my eyes.” You tell her, and you decide to take a seat on the couch and look through the album, making Koemi join you.
You look at pictures of the twins from the first ultrasound to their first steps. Newborn babies aren’t all that cute but you had the cutest babies. They cried a lot, but you always managed to take pictures because they were too adorable. The biggest smile comes to your lips seeing a picture of Megumi with the twins, he holds Kisho while Koemi is on the couch, trying to reach her twin brother. Then a picture of Megumi who manages to hold both of the twins on the couch, who look to be around five months old.
You keep going back to this one picture that’s three pages in, it’s what gets you. Toji smiling at his newborn babies. Toji has many more pictures in the book, but that has to be the best one because you had never seen Toji so happy before. Sure, he was over the moon when he married you, but this was a level of happiness that only his kids could achieve.
“What are you–” Toji approaches you, and his eyes fall on the photo album. For the second time, he glares at Koemi. Given the tears that are welled up in your eyes, she’s convinced you. She’s a sly one. She’s his daughter after all. He has to think of some way to get her to back down. What’s something that’ll make her stop wanting a sibling? And then it dawns on him.
“Koemi, since you want a baby sister so bad, you’re going to learn how to share your toys. Mommy and I will call the stork if you’re willing to share all your toys.” He says, knowing that Koemi hates sharing. Toji makes sure to get two toys each for the twins since it’s a never ending fight with them, because of her. That’s something he doesn’t bother correcting because Toji also hates sharing. “Even with Kisho.”
She furrows her brows and ponders on it. She shakes her head, and Toji takes it as her backing down. She’s not willing to share her toys. “I don’t want a sister anymore.”
She ends up standing up and walking away, but that doesn’t fix the mess that she caused. Toji doesn’t have to think much about convincing you though, he only has to mention, “Morning sickness.”
“She’s right, she doesn’t need a sister.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 days
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chat part two
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only, cockwarming, p in v, very fluffy compared to part one i just wanted an excuse to write cockwarming sorry!, established relationship, streamer!rafe, gamer!rafe
part one / part two
“no, don't go.” you whine, gripping onto rafes hand, trying to pull him back down on the bed.
“im supposed to stream soon, baby.” rafe says, leaning back down to press a kiss against your lips.
you usually don't mind when he has to go stream, but you're feeling incredibly clingy today as you tug at his hand again when he doesn't lay back down, doesn't continue the cuddle session.
“why don't you come with me?” he offers. “you can sit on my lap while i play?”
that has you perking up, nodding rapidly. “can you carry me to your stream room though?”
your legs work perfectly fine, but that doesn't stop you from wanting rafe to carry you around everywhere, loving the way your bodies can stay pressed together.
rafe smiles softly, reaching down to scoop you into his arms. “you're lucky you're so damn cute.”
“love you.” you coo, pressing your lips to his neck as he carries you out of the bedroom and down the hallway. you don't hide the fact that your kisses quickly turn to sucks as you leave a hickey for everyone to see, yet again claiming your territory, not that rafe let's anyone even get close enough to try anything.
rafe sits down in his gamer chair and you quickly adjust to straddle him, your chests pressed together as he begins clicking buttons, setting up his stream.
“remember that time i sucked you off on live?” you ask with a small giggle.
“yeah, i remember how much shit i got from twitch.” rafe chuckles, dropping one hand to squeeze your ass. “totally worth it.”
“maybe… maybe i could sit on it?” you don't form the actual words, just alluding to what you're really asking for.
rafe hums, thinking it over briefly. he almost got his twitch partnership revoked, it even went as far as to threaten a ban despite nothing actually being seen. 
“you gotta actually sit still though.” he says. having your tight cunt wrapped around him will be well worth the possibility of a ban. plenty other streaming services would jump at the chance to have him exclusively anyways.
“promise.” you kiss rafes jaw as you slide your shorts and underwear off. rafe adjusts the camera, zooming it in more and changing the angle so there's no possible chance for your ass to be on screen as you pull his cock out of his pants.
“gonna start the stream now. get me hard then get on my cock.” rafe says, waiting for you to nod before clicking the button to start the live.
your body hides his privates as well, the camera just seeing rafe from the chest up as well as the back of your head.
“babygirl is feeling clingy today so she's joining me.” rafe says as the viewers start to roll in. “isn't she just the cutest?”
you smile, turning your head slightly to grin at the camera before focusing back on what you really want.
you wrap your hand around rafes cock, stroking him subtly until he's hard enough for you to raise your hips, hovering against his tip before slowly sinking down.
you let out a soft moan, remembering to press your mouth against his shirt to muffle the noise.
it's hard to stay still, but your eyes drift close and eventually as rafe streams, the gnawing need to get fucked or move decreases, and you find yourself enjoying the stillness.
“love you so much bun.” rafe whispers, kissing the side of your head as you're slumped against him.
“couple more games and ill be done, yeah?”
“um…” you glance at the time, blinking away the bit of sleep. rafe is always down to end a stream whenever you want, but you also don't want to force him to stop early. “im actually okay. you can keep going.”
“really?” he laughs as a new game begins. “not desperate to start bouncing?”
you shake your head no. “i actually kinda like just this.” you admit softly, laying your head back down.
rafe keeps streaming, his cock inside of you, warm and secured, your bodies secretly connected while you sleep on his shoulder, chat going crazy about how cute you are sleeping against him, wishing they were in your position.
rafe smirks seeing the comments. if only they knew.
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luveline · 2 years
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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
part one | part two | part three | part four
summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]
warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park. 
"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street. 
"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel." 
For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie. 
"Are you ready?" he asks her. 
She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection. 
You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot. 
Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder. 
She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes. 
He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over. 
The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.
"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted." 
He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again. 
"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.
"You owe me," he says, mock-severe. 
Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road. 
You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'. 
There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too. 
Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work. 
Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?" 
"Okay," she echoes. 
You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue. 
You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make. 
You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'. 
Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him. 
It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand. 
"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable." 
"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare. 
"Yes, you are." 
He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body." 
"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving." 
"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically. 
She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms. 
"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options. 
The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet. 
You're daunted. 
"Whatever you want," you say.
Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question." 
"I don't know. Without?" 
"You are so weird," he says happily. 
You pout and pull Junie closer. 
Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.
He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"
If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two. 
"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone. 
You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection. 
Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?" 
If it weren't you'd hardly tell him. 
"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone. 
You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you? 
"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?" 
"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness. 
You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs." 
"Don't tempt me." 
Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping. 
You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation. 
"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?" 
You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow. 
"I thought I read that somewhere, but-" 
"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness. 
"I guess she's old enough." 
Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should. 
It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.
"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces." 
Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you. 
"Okay," you say, because you're being silly. 
Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke. 
Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down. 
"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it." 
You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing. 
"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers. 
He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.
"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently. 
Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.
"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.
You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.
Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb. 
He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw. 
"Holy sugar," he says, wincing. 
You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog. 
It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.
"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.
You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble. 
"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!" 
You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated. 
The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath. 
"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper. 
"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?" 
Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another. 
Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted. 
Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.  
He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos." 
"I saw." 
"Wanna eat some before they get cold?" 
"Subtle." 
He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson." 
You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold. 
"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?" 
He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.  
Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound. 
Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers. 
-
"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap. 
"Why?" Junie asks. 
He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?" 
She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.
"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her. 
Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.
Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant. 
Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle. 
Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed. 
"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy. 
"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears. 
"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV." 
She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour." 
"No," she whines softly. 
He covers her unhappy face with his hand. 
"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear." 
Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better. 
Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.
Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly. 
Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through. 
You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.
He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed. 
It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted. 
Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me." 
Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air. 
He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine. 
"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.
She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat. 
But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something. 
He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to. 
"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks." 
Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts. 
Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you." 
She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.
Eddie loves Junie. 
He knows it for a fact. 
She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.
He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face. 
"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!" 
As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea. 
"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside. 
Junie lifts her flushed face. 
He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.
Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet. 
Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.  
The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings. 
"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?" 
He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention. 
Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers. 
"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime. 
He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.
You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy. 
"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh. 
Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are. 
"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep. 
Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking. 
He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?" 
You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid. 
Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred. 
He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt. 
Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.
He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake. 
Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all. 
You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.
"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me." 
"What?" you ask. 
He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants." 
Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"
"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares." 
You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder. 
"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie. 
She raises both arms. 
You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.
"You okay?" he asks. 
Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired." 
"You're alright to walk out to the car?" 
His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts. 
Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you. 
It's a cool, crisp night outside. 
The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating? 
He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road. 
Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick. 
"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes." 
"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water." 
He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special." 
"That's true."
Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door. 
"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head." 
"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say. 
"I think I can do it by now."
He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car. 
"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head. 
You're staring at him as he opens the door. 
He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.
"What?" 
"You tryna give yourself a concussion?" 
"Kiss it better?" 
You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion. 
Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted. 
Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright. 
He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially. 
Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.
He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.
Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side. 
There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.
Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt. 
"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here." 
You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her. 
"Eddie?" you ask. 
He turns. You look miserable. 
"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression. 
"Thank you." 
"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog." 
You look visibly embarrassed.
"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous." 
"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur. 
He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love. 
You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap. 
"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues. 
You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything." 
"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg. 
Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg. 
Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully. 
"I should go home." 
You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear. 
"Can you hug me?" you ask. 
"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.
He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation. 
"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine." 
You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me." 
"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?" 
"Ow," you whine. 
He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts." 
"Why's everybody always on top of me?" 
"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?" 
"No!" 
"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it." 
He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug. 
"I'm not sitting in your lap." 
"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest. 
Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden. 
"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone. 
You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in. 
Long minutes of quiet hugs. 
"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.
"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried." 
He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart. 
"I wasn't," you say. 
Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page. 
-
You get really, really sick. 
"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle. 
Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend." 
Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.
It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home. 
Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said. 
And now here he is again the day after. 
"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say. 
"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks. 
You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes." 
"This is just something I had lying around." 
"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head. 
"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-" 
"That is in terrible taste." 
"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think." 
You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts." 
He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently. 
"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption." 
"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves. 
"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV. 
"Okay, Eddie?" she asks. 
You grin to yourself. 
"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June." 
The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to. 
"Fun," she says.  
"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you." 
They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown. 
You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry. 
"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment. 
"Don't baby me." 
He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head." 
"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."
"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight." 
"What does she want for dinner tonight?" 
"Boo! Exactly my point." 
"I'm gonna go ask her-" 
Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave." 
You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word. 
Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.
Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything. 
His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to. 
"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.
"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now. 
"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing." 
"Don't say that. Like I have something serious." 
"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-" 
"Mild-" 
"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.
"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do." 
"On a Saturday?" 
"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!" 
"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party." 
"I promised." 
"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?" 
"You can't." 
"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday." 
You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do." 
Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman." 
"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place. 
"Why don't I believe you?" 
"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me." 
"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot." 
"Name-calling." 
"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?" 
While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move." 
Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin. 
You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls. 
He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close. 
"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much. 
"Freckle." 
"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends. 
"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."
You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry." 
He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff." 
What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard. 
"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it." 
"I said, 'You're an-" 
"Amazing friend and confidante?" 
You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?" 
You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said." 
You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat. 
"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands. 
Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws. 
-
It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash. 
Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-" 
"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper. 
"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life." 
You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on. 
"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face. 
You spend a minute rubbing your eyes. 
"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.
"Like, seven. Ish." 
"Eddie…" 
"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar." 
You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs. 
Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.
Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious. 
Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.
You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up. 
"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely. 
She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length. 
"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression. 
"Mis'd," she says. 
"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully. 
Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms. 
You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?" 
"You're not very convincing." 
"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender. 
"She didn't learn that herself," you argue. 
"She might've. You tell her enough." 
You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"
Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic." 
You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain. 
Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck. 
You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time." 
"Mommy," she says into your neck. 
"That's me." 
You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts. 
Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.
You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.
Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing. 
Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist. 
"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please." 
"Thank you." 
He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-" 
"You don't have to." 
"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-" 
"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me." 
"What does that mean? Of course I did." 
He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie. 
"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?" 
Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin. 
"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?" 
"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity. 
He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles. 
You and Junie wave him off. 
"To work?" Junie asks.  
Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?" 
"To work?" 
You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now." 
Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you. 
"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow. 
But apparently he's coming back tonight. 
-
True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock. 
Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair. 
Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention. 
"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said. 
"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne." 
"You don't wanna be here." 
Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do." 
"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know." 
"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?" 
Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb." 
"You keep saying that." 
"You keep being dumb, boy." 
"I don't know what you want me to do." 
"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat. 
So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning. 
Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle. 
"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence. 
"Hot shower," you explain. 
You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features. 
"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence. 
Eddie's better than okay. 
He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.
Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it. 
"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.
"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy." 
He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot." 
"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero." 
He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-
"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes. 
You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now." 
Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."
He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth. 
"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend." 
Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.
"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face. 
Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it." 
"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of." 
"Even murderers?" 
"Maybe not murderers-" 
"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?" 
"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject." 
You press your lips together, caught.
"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you." 
"You do." 
He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be." 
"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall. 
Eddie stares at you, floored.
"What about you?" 
"What about me?" he asks. 
"What's your name?" you demand, grinning. 
"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."  
You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."
"Maybe." 
"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?" 
He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is." 
Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften. 
"What if I was?" you ask. 
A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone. 
His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."
"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast. 
Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt. 
Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer. 
"You're so fucking pretty," he says. 
He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap. 
Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose. 
He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp. 
"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone. 
His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy. 
"I'll make you sick." 
He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat. 
"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes. 
You don't answer. 
You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.
He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.
You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch. 
Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.
He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close. 
You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears. 
"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own. 
You have to feel it. 
A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully. 
"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever. 
Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does. 
Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough. 
It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.
It doesn't feel like it matters. 
You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt. 
"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly. 
"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything." 
"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes. 
"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart. 
You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips. 
"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore. 
Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head. 
"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that." 
"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous. 
He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter. 
Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic. 
"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you." 
Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good. 
You stand sure and sweet in front of him.
"It's…" You look shyly at his lips. 
"What?" 
"I…" 
He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me." 
"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly. 
Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back. 
"Just wanted to do that," you say. 
𓆩❤︎𓆪
thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter 
if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
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emmyrosee · 1 year
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Kuroo Tetsuro was put on this earth to have children.
Before your little twins were even a thought, he’d look longingly at young couples with kids, watching with the most dazed expression. He was always the first to smile at infants, wave at toddlers, and if the accompanying parents seemed to welcome his affections, he’d ask the young children questions.
So, the gods blessed him with twins. And 9 times out of 10, he’s the most thorough father you’ve ever known, and he’s so quick to know which child needs what, when, and why.
Right now, however, is the 1 out of 10. And it’s funny.
“There’s a tiny human at the end of our bed,” he whispers against your head, the raspiness of his voice rumbling against your temple.
“I sincerely hope you mean one of our children.”
Your joke makes Tetsuro laugh, slowly sitting up to peek at the cutest intruder in your doorway.
“Good morning, baby,” he mumbles, thick fingers pressing into his eyes to rub the sleep from them. You smile at your daughter at the foot of your bed, sleepily gazing at your little girl. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, dadda,” she mumbles around her pacifier.
“Yeah? Where’s your sister?”
“Sleepin’.”
“She’s still sleeping?” He says, yawning softly, an arm wrapping around you to pull you closer. “How come you’re not still sleeping?”
“Bluey!” She squeals excitedly, pointing at the tv in your room.
This, has your husband’s eyes furrowing. His body shifts slightly, and his eyes dart to span over her tiny frame.
“You want to watch Bluey?” He asks, and you cock your brow up at him in confusion for his confusion.
“Uh-huh!” She crawls onto the foot of your bed with a finger extended to the big screen, “Bluey, please?”
“What’s wrong?” You whisper, grabbing the remote and clicking the tv so your tiny child is occupied.
Tetsuro leans over, pulling you close, enough to where his warm breath spans over your face.
“I don’t know which one that is,” he whispers, and you let out a soft snort.
“You really don’t know?”
“I know Hanako likes Bluey, but Hanae’s favorite pair of pj’s is the one that’s being worn right now.”
Your eyes flick back down to the figure at the bottom of your bed, who indeed, is wearing Hanae’s favorite green pajamas (Hanako’s are yellow), but is watching Bluey like no one’s business (Hanae immensely prefers paw patrol).
And in his defense… they are twins.
Looking the same is kind of what they do.
“What about her eyes?” You whisper back. Hanae has eyes like her fathers, while Hanako’s are more akin to yours.
“Couldn’t get a good look, it’s too early!”
“Pacifier color?”
“Baby they switch those regularly, you know better than to ask.”
Chewing on your lip, your eyes shift over your child’s excited eyes watching the tv. It’s true, if they weren’t identical enough, now they have to go and switch the few things that make them different.
“Who are you?” Tetsuro asks to no one, though it does make you giggle.
Then, you smile and slowly sit up, patting your husband’s chest lovingly. “Hey stinky,” you call, and you watch her messy black hair swish as she turns to face you. “Who do you like to hang out with more, uncle ken or uncle ko?”
The tiny human beams around the pacifier in her mouth, “uncle ko! ‘Cause he plays pirates with me in ‘da pool!”
You and tetsuro look at each other and grin.
Hanae.
Hanako was absolutely whipped for her uncle kenma.
“We should see him soon, shouldn’t we?” You ask, watching as Hanae bounces excitedly.
Tetsuro rolls his eyes as he sits up, “not before we see uncle Kenma, he’s already pouty that you like uncle Koutaro more, and I gotta hear about it.”
“Of course she likes him more,” you tease, slipping out of bed to start the day. “Hanae is practically attached to Koutarou’s leg; she told us she was going to marry him one day, remember?
“Gonna marry Uncle Kou one day!” Hanae chirps. “N’ Hanako’s gonna marry Uncle Kenma, ‘nd we’re all gonna marry Uncle Kei, and-“
“Do not do this to me so early,” Tetsuro groans, patting the bed for the little girl to snuggle with him. She does, with a happy little noise and a quick scurry close to him, and you can only watch with a smile as they watch Bluey together in the rays of the sun before shuffling off to make breakfast.
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queenimmadolla · 11 months
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𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲
(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)
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Summary: . . . You and your kids wake Eddie up with a surprise for Father's Day. warnings: fluff and Eddie being down bad for Reader 🤭, implications of baby making.
word count: 2k
more dad!eddie here
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“'Shhh', mama?” Your four year old asked as she trailed behind you in the hallway.
  “Yeah, we have to be quiet so you can wake daddy up with a surprise.” You were trying not to make too much noise with the flowers, wrapped in apparently the world’s loudest brown paper, hitching your nine-month old up higher on your hip.
  Thank goodness neither of your kids were in a fussy mood, especially considering you’d gotten them up early after the terrible night before. Wayne had a new tooth coming in, he was absolutely miserable and your poor baby made sure to let everyone know. He’d been wailing most of the night and Eddie took it upon himself to soothe him, rubbing some baby friendly orajel along his gums, massaging them with fingers dipped in cool water, and offering frozen teething rings and plenty of comfort in the form of nonstop cuddles.
  He hadn’t joined you in bed until the early hours of the morning, which worked out perfectly. Eddie had been dead asleep when you got up, squishing a pillow you’d planted in place of yourself to his chest.
  Next came getting the kids ready, which was also surprisingly easy. Penny was pliant with sleep, letting you dress her without whining (she kept trying to lean forward so she could rest on you and go back to sleep—it was the cutest thing) and your baby was still soothed by Eddie’s remedies, letting out content coos as you changed his diaper and also got him ready.
  After a quick trip to a music store downtown (and by quick you meant 45 minutes, Penny took delicate care in picking out another final gift for her daddy and told you not to rush her every time you’d ask her to hurry) and a stop at the flower shop, you arrived back home and it looked like Eddie still hadn’t stirred, which gave you time to make breakfast.
  You’d sat Waynie in his high chair, gave him some cut up pieces of banana to gnaw on—which he did so as aggressively as possible—and went about making pancakes, eggs and bacon (which Eddie liked to devour until he felt ill).
  Penny was of course your little helper, sitting on your lap while you assisted her with whisking the eggs in a bowl for Waynie’s scrambled eggs, and then perched on your hip to help you flip the pancakes. She’d insisted that Eddie’s pancakes all be heart shaped and you loved the idea, so after a couple of failed ones that would be on your plate, you eventually got it down and she wrapped her arms tightly around you in a hug for it.
  Once breakfast was plated and the table was set, you gathered Wayne and the flowers while Penny carried Eddie’s decoy gift towards your bedroom.
  Quietly, you opened the door and peaked in, smiling  at Eddie’s sleeping form.
  “Okay, let’s go wake him up. Shh.” You propped the door open for Penny to slip in before you and she grinned up at you, using her free hand to hold her finger to her lips, she’d be quiet.
  She set the rectangular box on the end of the bed and then climbed on top while you sat Wayne down on the bed.
  He was just starting to crawl, so he very shakily made his way towards Eddie—face planting quite a few times but it didn’t deter your baby.
  Penny looked back at you for confirmation and you nodded in encouragement. That was all the permission she needed.
  “Daddy! Daddy, wake up! It’s daddy’s day! Wakey, wakey!” 
  She poked and prodded at his side when he groaned and shifted onto his back, eyes squinting open. That wasn’t good enough for her, she moved to sit on him and Wayne finally reached him, using his dad’s shoulder to prop himself up enough to sit back on his bum while he let out a happy shriek, chunky little palms slapping eagerly at his dad’s face to do the trick.
  Eddie made a face, nose scrunching up but you could see the smile curling on his lips, dimples appearing.
  “Okay, okay! I’m awake! Stop the assault!” 
  Penny laughed as he sat up, which almost sent her sprawling on the bed but she caught herself on his leg. Eddie tutted, that wouldn’t do.
  Eddie reached out and pushed her off of him and she laughed hysterically as she bounced against the mattress which made the two of you chuckle. For some reason your daughter loved to rough house with him. 
  Penny didn’t stay down for long, quickly crawling back up to lay down along the side of his pillow and Eddie turned his head to look at her after he’d gathered Wayne and sat him on his chest.
  “Happy Fodder’s Day, daddy. You aw the best daddy in the whole wide everywhere.” She whispered to him, very seriously, and he leaned in to give her a smacking kiss on the nose.
  “Thank you, baby.” His voice was raspy but you could detect the emotion under it. Eddie was so gonna choke up.
  “You wanna give him his present?” You prompted her, and Eddie’s head darted in your direction, grin widening at the sight of you in his favorite dress.
  “Oh, yeah!” Penny scurried to the end of the bed and knee-crawled back to Eddie, hands outstretched to offer him the rectangular box.
  “What’s this?” He asked, tucking Wayne into his side so he could grab the box.
  “You gots to open it, daddy.” Penny demanded, eagerly leaning in to stare at the box while he did.
  “Sorry,” you both traded looks of amusement before he took off the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal a new guitar strap; black and decorated with crossbone skulls. “This is for me?”
  “Yeah!” Penny nodded her head ecstatically. “Mommy lemme pickeded it out!”
  “Thank you so much, little pretty one.” Eddie moved his hand to the back of his daughter’s curly little head to bring it in so he could press a kiss to her forehead, then he turned to the baby at his side. “And you, too!”
  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sweet smelling curls on his baby’s head. In return, Waynie started gnawing on his arm.
  You sat on the side of the bed and pulled him away from Eddie’s arm. Your son looked at you, affronted,  like you’d committed the ultimate crime until you held a pacifier to his lips. He eagerly gobbled it up and relaxed back against Eddie, once more content as he suckled.
  “Penny, do you wanna go get the other thing?”
  “Wha─?” She looked at you, confused for only a moment before her big brown eyes lit up. “YES, YES, YES!”
  Penny quickly climbed off the bed and ran to her room, where you’d hidden it.
  “What are you up to, trouble?” Eddie asked and you turned your head away from the doorway to find him looking at you, sleepy eyes clouded with love and affection as he reached a hand out to stroke along your exposed thigh.
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
  “You’re trying to make me cry again, aren’t you?”
  “Not me, no way. No how.” 
  “I GOS IT, MOMMY!” Penny ran back in, chin raised to peak over the box she carried. It wasn’t too heavy for her, just big.
  She brought it over to you and you handed it to Eddie before pulling her up onto your lap as you watched him unbox it.
  “I wonder what it could b—.” Eddie’s mouth parted just slightly as he pulled a small amp from the box. It wasn’t just any amp. It was an amp you’d sneakily picked up from the music store last week—he had a ton of amps sprawled around the apartment but Eddie’s favorite portable one had recently gone out on him. 
  The amp itself would have been a fantastic gift alone, but you’d taken a few extra steps to personalize it for him. You’d painted the black amp with a solid red background and then let Penny and Wayne paint whatever they wanted on it. 
  Penny had gone all out, making sure to paint her family holding hands on it, along with plenty of depictions of her dad, one of which was him wearing a cape because he was her hero and since Wayne was too little to use a paintbrush, his little hand and foot prints were on it. 
  On one of the sides was your initials (last name replaced with an ‘M’ to represent the Munson name you’d taken on when you’d married him) + EM 4Ever, tucked into a heart with Cupid’s bow shot through it. 
  “SUPISE! D’ya like it, daddy? I drews on it, and it got Waynie’s feets and hans.” Penny looked so proud of herself, smile nearly taking up her entire face.
  Eddie sniffled and you hid your grin in Penny’s hair. You got him.
  He licked his lips and cleared his throat to try and keep himself together but you could see the shine in his eyes when he raised them.
  “I love it so much, baby girl.” He choked out, holding Wayne a little tighter to his side.
  “You wanna give daddy a hug?” You whispered into her ear and she crawled off your lap to throw herself at Eddie, arms wrapping around his shoulders.
  Eddie was careful to make sure Penny didn’t squish Wayne as he held her to his chest, eyes squeezing shut and his freehand cradling the back of her head.
  “I luh you, daddy.” Penny mumbled, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
  “I love you, pretty Penny.” He pressed a multitude of kisses to her curls as he basked in the moment before his eyes shot open and over to you. “What are you doing all the way over there? Get over here and give me some love.”
  You affectionately rolled your eyes before you complied, lifting Wayne out of his arms and into yours to take his place tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie demanded kisses the moment you were near, and because you loved him, you ignored his god awful morning breath and let him have his way.
  His lips remained pressed to your temple, an arm slipped around your waist so he could lift the skirt of your dress, fingers tracing the words I love you along your thigh as Penny explained all her paintings in great, excessive detail.
  Later, when you were all at the table eating the breakfast you and Penny had made, Eddie could barely get a bite in without staring at you. Wayne was in your arms, face pressed against your breast as he nursed (always did it before he ate solids), while Penny babbled to you about how fun cooking with you had been and how yummy it was as you helped her scoop up her food on her little fork.
  Eddie knew Father’s Day was a day meant to celebrate him and essentially all the other fathers of the world, but he’d much rather appreciate you. You’d given him Penny and Wayne; his sweet (usually) little girl and his baby boy. Without you, he wouldn’t be able to be a part of this day, really.
  Eventually, you felt the weight of his stare and looked up at him, gaze inquisitive.
  “What?” 
  He just huffed out a gentle laugh, brown eyes warm and making a certain feeling stir in your belly, “Nothing. Thank you. For them.”
  Eddie nods towards Wayne and Penny.
  “Well, you definitely played a part in getting them here.” You mused, reaching a hand out to stroke over Penny’s curls. 
  Sure, you made them but it wouldn’t have been possible had Eddie not finished inside of you on a regular basis. 
  When you looked back at him, Eddie was smirking, his eyes were heavily lidded and darkening–his bedroom eyes. The warmth in them was simmering into something much more intense as he leered at you with absolutely no shame. Lustful.
  You could feel yourself heating up, bashful nature hitting you full force as he nearly ate you alive with his gaze alone. You knew what was coming next, what he was about to say.
  “Wanna make another one during nap time?”
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thebowieconstricker · 2 months
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Sweet Mornings
Lucifer Morningstar x reader oneshot
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Request: Them cooking together and it ending in either him cuddling her so much that they forget about the food and it burns, or baking and that ends in a food fight and kisses. Bonus points, if it burns down the Hotels kitchen and Charlie freaks out.
Okay so this is the CUTEST FREAKING THING EVER??? Love this request sm sorry it took a million years whoops lol enjoy
Tags: Literally just pure fluff, pancakes, kinda language, whipped-cream-related violence, gender neutral reader
~~~
Warm, soft mornings in bed with your beloved partner were becoming more common ever since you and Lucifer had become a couple. Not only was he excellent at cuddles, but his wings made the most delightful blankets to fall asleep under. On this particular morning, you were slowly waking up, and the first thing you noticed was the gentle grip Lucifer had on your form, clinging to your waist even in his sleep. You glanced at the clock to your right as you laid on your back and softly giggled. It was 3:00 in the morning, aka the “devil’s hour”, as some called it, and here he was, asleep in your shared bed. You shifted a bit to stretch and Lucifer made a small noise.
“I’m just moving a bit.” You whispered, bringing up a hand to brush through his blonde locks.
“Mmm, nah, just stay here.” He reached his arm back over your stomach and grabbed your hip, pulling you against his side.
You smiled affectionately, and while you looked at his quite literally angelic face, you thought of an idea.
“Hey, Luci… you wanna make pancakes?”
His eyes sprang open and his eyebrows shot up. A wide grin broke out on his face and quicker than you could blink, he had pulled both you and himself up and off the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the two of you were dressed in comfortable robes with silly slippers. He wore a bright yellow pair with duck faces, because of course he did. Your slippers were of your favorite animal, which was one of the many gifts Lucifer had given you.
With a wave of his hand, Lucifer had magically transported the two of you to the kitchen downstairs. It was a rather large kitchen, plenty of shelves and cabinets stocked with ingredients. You adjusted your robe and began to move towards one of the cupboards when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your torso. Following close behind was the warm face of your lover, nuzzling into the back of your neck.
“Honey, we can’t cuddle and make pancakes.” You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face. You could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied, “Who says we can’t?”
He snapped once more and suddenly, all of your necessary materials and ingredients appeared on the kitchen island.
“There ya go, now you’ve just gotta stand there.”
You laughed and shuffled to the island.
You quickly realized that this was going to be far more difficult than you originally anticipated. For some reason, Lucifer was determined to make the simple activity of pancake-making as tedious as possible for you. When you measured the flour, he insisted that you had poured too much, leading you to re-measure six times. The eggs that you cracked always had a bit of shell in them, and instead of helping, Lucifer would just magic you more. “I’ll keep my arms right here, thank you.” He said from behind you. He did, however, beg you to add more sugar. You finally had to put your foot down after the 3rd empty bag. Why did you trust his horrible advice? No one knows, but according to legend, he apparently knows what he’s doing when it comes to pancakes.
After you had finally created some kind of batter, you struggled over to the oven with Lucifer’s arms still around you. You carefully poured the mixtures onto the skillet after putting the eye on the ‘high’ setting, and with the warm, sweet smells from the food and the demon snuggling your back, you were starting to get pretty sleepy.
That’s when you noticed it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Lucifer had magicked some whipped cream in a can. Obviously, for the purpose of a topping, but you had other plans. You were sure that Lucifer’s eyes were closed behind you (you had even heard him snore a couple of times). Stealthily, you reached for the whipped cream and uncapped the can. You shook it and poured a bit into your mouth, just for fun. Then, you made your real move. You sprayed a good amount on your hand and put the can down.
“Hey, Luci, is it brown enough?” You asked innocently.
“Hmm..? I uh-“ He rubbed his eyes behind you and leaned over your shoulder to take a look at your pancake. “Yeah, you should probably flip-“
You swung your hand around and threw the whipped cream so it landed squarely on his face.
“AH-“
Lucifer’s arms eat go from your waist as he stumbled backwards in shock. His arms reached for his face to feel the whipped cream. Realizing what it was, he smiled wickedly as a forked licked the sweets off his hand.
“Oh, you have no idea who you just fucked.”
You doubled over as you cried with laughter at the sight of him, and laughed even more at that statement.
“It’s- it’s fucked with, Luci-“
Suddenly, whipped cream had landed on your face, splattering on your robe. You heard his musical laughter in front of you and, just like that, it was on.
Lucifer had summoned cans and cans of whipped cream on either of your sides and the two of you ducked behind and hopped over the kitchen island, throwing whipped cream at each other and throwing any other food you could find in the kitchen. You found a sleeve of graham crackers and started chucking those at some point while Lucifer grabbed some of his fire breathing ducks to melt the sugary ammo before it hit him. You took one of your shoes off and began chasing him with it, half laughing and half threatening him, when he finally, finally, held up a white napkin, and called, “I surrender!”
You kept laughing as you tackled him in a hug, the two of you falling to the ground.
“I’m sorry, Luci, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You playfully said to him.
“Hurt? I’m offended you think I could even get hurt-“
“Then why’d you surrender?”
His arms snaked around your waist once again and he smirked.
“I guess I missed ya.”
You rolled your eyes and kissed him swiftly, the two of you too wrapped up in each other to care about the hectic state of the kitchen. Your hand went to his hair and carefully caressed it, trying to tidying it a bit. When you finally broke away, he looked at you breathlessly.
“Don’t get so excited there, you just had some whipped cream on your face.” You said to him, smiling.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow and another can appeared in his hand, spraying some on his lips without missing a beat.
“You dork.” You said, and kissed him again.
Then, suddenly, a voice from across the room.
“OH MY GOSH GUYS THERE’S A FIRE VAGGIE GET THE EXTINGUISHER-“
So, the two of you may have forgotten about the pancakes.
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huskersbooze · 2 months
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Bambi
Alastor x Reader
Summary : Alastor returns from his outing one day, finding a guest lying on the floor, unconscious, in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Untrue to Alastor fashion, scaring most of the staff members, he decides to keep the fascinating creature in his broadcasting studio, and when she wakes up, she's forgotten everything, even her name. And when Alastor starts calling her nicknames in the mean time, he accidentally gives her one that she ends up growing attached to..
Warnings : N/A
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (Gn!Reader here, M!Reader here)
Additional tags : Fluff(?), mentions of amnesia, Alastor actually being nice?!
Word count : 1.06k
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“Wonderful, just wonderful! You’re awake!”
A staticky voice drew you out of your thoughts. Surprised, you snapped your neck towards the sound, and a rather tall and slim figure was right at your face.
“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!”
You flinch as the figure leans closer, causing them to back away slightly.
“Who.. who are you?”
“Pleasure to meet you, dear, just a pleasure! I'm Alastor, the Radio Demon. And who might you be?"
"I..” You reply. “I don't know." 
He seems taken aback by your response slightly, but his smile doesn't falter. Instead he cocks his head to the side and blinks at you.
"What's your name?"
You stay quiet for a while until you give an uncertain head tilt back to him.
"I don't know.."
The grin still very much glued to his face, he leaned a bit closer to you, voice dropping to a more hushed tone.
"Darling, you don't remember your name, or you don't know your name?"
"I.. I don't remember." You fight the urge to start fidgeting with your hands, looking down to the ground as your memories become a hazy blur.
"You don't remember? Your name? Anything?"
"No.."
He doesn't seem to let his bright smile falter at that, although his expression shifts slightly towards curiosity.
"Quite the fascinating creature you are." He blinks a couple of times before he shifts to lean against what seemed to be a broadcasting panel, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Intriguing, really. Do you know what happened to your memory?"
"No.. not really."
"Well, that's unfortunate." The Radio Demon lets out a chuckle, static still laced in his laugh. "It seems you're in a bit of a dilemma, aren't you, Bambi?"
"Bambi.. I like it." You reply.
"Pardon me?" He raises his eyebrow at you, surprised at your statement.
"Bambi. I like the sound of that."
He laughs, a smile sounding from him again. There was something so unsettling yet alluring about him.
"That is rather fitting, I suppose. Bambi.. it's not a bad name." He thinks for a few seconds, stroking his chin as he considers. "And I suppose I'll need something to refer to you if you're staying. It fits you.."
"Staying?"
"Where do you think you are right now, darling? You certainly didn't expect me to leave you out there with your memories wiped with nowhere to go?"
"I.."
"Surely you hoped to stay for accommodation and basic necessities?" The Radio Demon asks, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "You've lost your memory after all, have you not?"
"Yes.." You hesitantly replied. Sure, you've lost your memory, but you weren't stupid enough to follow a random Radio Demon around without knowing him.
"I don't bite, Bambi. I can guarantee everyone at the hotel will treat you with the respect you deserve. And if they don't, all you need to do is let me know and I'll handle them for you."
"Hotel?"
"My, my, you really are a clueless little deer." Alastor uses a cane-typed staff to ruffle your hair. “So fragile and just the cutest little thing.”
“Thank.. you?”
Alastor tilts his head to the side curiously.
"It seems as if my teasing isn't upsetting you. How strange." He merely comments. “Oh, to understand your lost little mind.”
You carefully scan the room. It seemed to be a broadcasting studio, the room simply in red. Totally wasn’t sinister at all.
“So, what do you say, Bambi? We wouldn't mind providing you with all the necessities you need for now.”
“Necessities?”
Alastor chuckles again.
"Like, a bed, for example! Or, oh, I'm sure you'd want new clothes as well, right? And... if that's not enough, we do serve breakfast the next day. If you want food, that is..."
“Jambalaya..” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you’re lightly lost in thought.
Alastor’s grin widens a little, his ears perking slightly at the sudden mention of his favourite food.
"I can't say that I was expecting that, but... yes, we actually do have jambalaya on the menu for lunch. How'd you know that?"
“Oh, sorry.. I was just talking to myself. It’s my favourite food.” You stifle a blush as you let out an embarrassed smile.
“Ah, so you do remember some things, Bambi.” He raises his voice in curiosity, walking towards a trapdoor in the floor. “Come along, dear, let’s bring you to Charlie.”
“Charlie?”
“The owner of the hotel, and also the Princess of Hell.”
“We’re in hell?”
Alastor stops in his tracks as the two of you reach the hallways, finally out of Alastor’s broadcasting tower.
“After our whole conversation, you just noticed?”
“I.. I suppose so.”
“Oh, dear, you really are just one mysterious creature, aren't you? To think you just appeared here, with no memories of yourself, of the world, and even what you're doing here in Hell. You are truly fascinating..”
Alastor smirks, speaking in a lower voice. “Charlie will be delighted to have you here.”
After introductions and such, Charlie settles you into the room next to Alastor’s, opposite of Angel Dust, and introduces you to all the staff.
“So.. who are ya’ exactly?” The white spider raises a hand, slouching on the couch with a grey cat beside him. 
“This is our new guest!” Charlie introduces. “Alastor found her unconscious and offered to let her stay.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question, princess.” The grey cat speaks up, seemingly bored from the unoriginality of these introductions.
“Well, Husker, our little friend here has lost her memories.” Alastor speaks up from beside you, ruffling your hair with his staff-cane-thing once more. You still couldn’t make out what it was really supposed to be.
“Lost her memories?” Vaggie is the one to speak up this time. 
“Indeed. It seems our dear friend doesn't even remember her own name, let alone anything else.”
“Then what a’ we s’posed to refer to her as?” Angel questions.
“You could call me Bambi..” You mutter softly, gaze glued to your own feet.
“Works for me.” Husk shrugs.
“Sure.” Angel replies.
Vaggie and Niffty nods.
You feel the static beside you grow a bit louder, and as you shift your gaze, you see Alastor keeping his composure with his backs behind his back, his eyes on you as he gives you a soft, and genuine smile.
“You’re going to love it here, Bambi.” He says.
———/ End. /———
621 notes · View notes
flamingpudding · 3 months
Note
I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.
I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)
But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.
Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.
RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.
Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.
So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.
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The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.
The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.
"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.
"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.
"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.
"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.
"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."
The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?
"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!
"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.
Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"
They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,
Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."
Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?
"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."
Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."
The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."
That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"
Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"
They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.
By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.
Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.
Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.
Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.
"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.
"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.
"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."
"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."
"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"
Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."
The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."
Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.
Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....
Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.
A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.
773 notes · View notes
goldsainz · 10 months
Text
OVER THE YEARS — one shot.
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pairing: oscar piastri x reader
MASTERLIST.
request: “omg hi i have a request for oscar piastri a social media au something showing their friendship over the years maybe through b'day posts/something else (you decide) basically like childhood friend to lovers social media au pls !”
NOTE: first oscar piece ever!! the format of this is a bit diff but that’s just bc it’s kind of only insta… thank you sm for requesting, i hope that this is what you wanted and enjoy! (this has no faceclaim btw)
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APRIL 06, 2019
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liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri and 2,687 others
yourusername HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST FRIEND WHO JUST TURNED 18!!!! cannot believe i’ve known you for 12 of those years…
view all 40 comments
oscarpiastri Was the last picture really necessary…
⤷ yourusername yes, yes it was 😁
oscarpiastri I was a pretty cute kid actually
liked by yourusername
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APRIL 06, 2020
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liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 3,185 others
yourusername 19 years old and he’s still acting like he’s 10!! oh also, happy birthday 🥳
view all 56 comments
oscarpiastri Was the happy birthday an afterthought or…?
⤷ yourusername was i really that obvious?
⤷ oscarpiastri I see how it is then🙄
arthur_leclerc I’m gonna need more of these pictures
⤷ yourusername your wish is my command
⤷ oscarpiastri Y/N NO
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APRIL 06, 2021
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 6,279 others
yourusername selfie time for the birthday boy! 20 has looked better on others, but you’ll get there ❤️
view all 94 comments
oscarpiastri Wow!
oscarpiastri I send you these pics in confidence and they end up on Instagram… Can’t trust anybody😔
⤷ yourusername not really private if they’re in a group chat🤷‍♀️
⤷ oscarpiastri Watch your back for your next birthday post… You never the content I might get
arthur_leclerc You two look really cozy in that second picture!!
⤷ yourusername shut up, frenchie
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APRIL 06, 2022
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liked by carla.brocker, oscarpiastri and 10,836 others
yourusername happy birthday to this guy 🫶
view all 162 comments
oscarpiastri 🫶🫶🫶
liked by yourusername and 10 others
oscarpiastri Will I ever get some decent photos in these posts?
⤷ yourusername hm… no!
oscarfan1 who is she??
⤷ oscarfan2 she’s oscar’s childhood best friend i think
⤷ oscarfan3 i thought she was his gf, cause she’s always in the paddock with him
⤷ oscarfan2 nope, just friends from what i know
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APRIL 06, 2023
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liked by landonorris, zhouguanyu24 and 34,091 others
yourusername happy birthday to my boy friend (my best friend who’s a boy but also my actual boyfriend)!!! you’ve done so much in all these years, you’re even in F1 now, and i’m happy to have been through it all 🤍 i included some good pics but just because the fans need them 😁
view all 512 comments
oscarpiastri Aww… Is the beautiful girl single?
⤷ yourusername no… but you’re pretty cute so call me :)
⤷ oscarpiastri 🙃🙃🙃
oscarpiastri21 how i love them
oscarfan22 THE MCLAREN GLOW UP OMG
landonorris There are children on this app…
⤷ yourusername WE’RE YOUNGER THAN YOU???
⤷ landonorris And yet I have more decorum🙄
oscarpiastri23 they’re so cuteee
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JULY 09, 2023
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liked by oscarpiastri, yukitsunoda and 51,684 others
yourusername P4! there is so much i could say, but all that matters is that i am incredibly proud of all that you achieved and will achieve
view all 775 comments
landonorris If I speak…
⤷ yourusername don’t❤️
oscarfan31 the most unproblematic and cutest couple on the grid
oscarpiastri I love you 🫶
⤷ yourusername I love you 🫶🫶
⤷ oscarpiastri I love you 🫶🫶🫶
oscarfan32 I LOVE THEM SM
oscarfan33 y/n pls know that we love you
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ssprayberrythings · 3 months
Text
seeing the world | DR3
daniel ricciardo x female!reader / smau fic
pov: you and daniel spend your holidays travelling all over and keep everyone updated by documenting everything on your socials 🔆
warnings: just fluff on fluff !!
oh wow i've been away for sometime...sorry about that! but i come baring gifts aka a daniel ricciardo smau fic which i hope you all enjoy!
masterlist | taglist
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: lets go explore the world 🗺️ @danielricciardo 
*replies disabled*
danielricciardo posted on their story  
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caption: we're going on an adventure 💛 @yourusername 
*replies disabled* 
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yourusername posted on instagram    
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landonorris, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, yourbestfriend & others liked 
somewhere in the mountains ⛰️ 
tagged: danielricciardo 
view all comments 
fan1: my favourite couple 
fan23: one day i want what danny and y/n have 
yourbestfriend: whose idea was it for zip lining ? 
╰ yourusername: who do you think 🙃 
fan55: i cant wait to see where else they go 
danielricciardo: i love you 
╰ yourusername: i love you more 
╰ fan22: ^ is this too much to ask for 
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danielricciardo posted on instagram    
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yourusername, maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charles_leclerc and others liked 
first travel destination was a success ✅ 
tagged: yourusername 
view all comments 
yourusername: youre the cutest 
╰ danielricciardo: 😘 
landonorris: im sure the .jpg account is gonna be filled by the end of these travels 
fan22: wonder where they’re off to next 
fan15: ive never seen danny look so happy before ☺️
fan3: y/n brought our happy go lucky daniel back to us and for that we love her 
╰ liked by yourusername 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: he will find any reason he can to get behind the wheel 😝
╰ danielricciardo: not true.. 
╰ yourusername: babe, dont lie..
╰ danielricciardo: okay maybe partially true..
more replies…
╰ fan23: danny and his two loves: y/n and driving 
╰ fan21: sorry but his thigh tattoo >>
╰ fan12: that smile 🥹
yourusername posted on instagram   
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redbullracing, danielricciardo, landonorris, yourbestfriend and others liked 
from mountains to beaches 🏝️ 
tagged: danielricciardo 
view all comments 
danielricciardo: my gorgeous girl 
╰ yourusername: my beautiful boy 
fan24: y/n truly is the prettiest girl ive ever seen
fan22: they’re living their best lives 
fan12: i HOPE Y/N IS VLOGGING THIS I NEED THIS IN VIDEO FORM 
╰ liked by yourusername 
fan12: SHE LIKED OMG HOPEFULLY ITS TRUE
landonorris: you got some sand on your knees..
╰ yourusername: geez thanks, i had no idea 
╰ landonorris: always happy to help 😊
╰ yourusername: 🙄
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danielricciardo posted on instagram  
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yourusername, landonorris, yourbestfriend, alex_albon & others liked 
my happiest place; next to you 
tagged: yourusername 
view all comments 
fan12: IM DYING 
fan15: the highway is looking real comfortable 
yourusername: you’re such a sap ☺️
╰ danielricciardo: for you, always 
fan27: CUTENESS OVERLOAD 
landonorris: who knew you could be such the romantic 
╰ danielricciardo: you should take notes 😎
fan16: lando and danny’s dynamic hasn’t changed and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THAT 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: next destination here we come ✌🏻
*replies disabled* 
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yourusername posted on instagram    
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danielricciardo, landonorris, yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc & others liked 
somewhere in the south of france 🇫🇷 
tagged: danielricciardo 
view all comments 
danielricciardo: je taime ❤️ 
╰ yourusername: 🥰 
fan2: FRANCE? PLEASE WE NEED DANNYY/N AT THE EFFIEL TOWER 
fan15: FRANCE IS SO ROMANTIC 
fan23: go to monaco please and thanks !! 
yourbestfriend: so jealous but also so happy for you two 🥹
╰ yourusername: we’re still gonna go on our girls trip across italy don’t worry 🥹
╰ liked by yourbestfriend 
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danielricciardo posted on instagram   
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landonorris, yourbestfriend, yourusername, maxverstappen1 & others liked 
got to see all of france and i think it may be my favourite place we've travelled to ❤️
tagged: yourusername 
view all comments 
fan12: THE FRENCH F1 FANS HOW YOU DOING 
fan4: FRENCH FAN HERE: THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY 
fan9: i ran into y/n and danny while they were on the train and I CAN CONFIRM THE SWEETEST TWO PEOPLE YOU’LL EVER MEET 
yourusername: i’d come back here with you any day ❤️
╰ danielricciardo: maybe we’ll move here one day? 
╰ yourusername: youre getting a bit ahead of yourself..but maybe…one day down the road !! 
fan23: imagine danny living in france? NOPE I CANT..I NEED THIS TO BE REALITY 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: there’s so much love in the air ❤️ @danielricciardo 
╰ danielricciardo: ❤️
danielricciardo posted on their story  
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caption: more adventures await us ✈️ @yourusername 
*replies disabled* 
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yourusername posted on instagram    
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danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, redbullracing, charles_leclerc & others liked 
light shows and sunsets with my favourite boy 🧡 
tagged: danielricciardo
view all comments 
fan12: AWE DAN LOOKS SO CUTE 
fan1: they are serving !!! 
fan15: at this point i never want the racing season to start just so they can keep travelling the world 
fan16: THE LIGHTS REMIND ME OF RAPUNZEL 
╰ fan4: YES OMG 
danielricciardo: my very own princess 😘
╰ yourusername: my prince 🥰
danielricciardo posted on their story  
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caption: and they lived happily ever after ❤️ @yourusername 
╰ yourusername: our fairytale 🥹
more replies…
╰ fan22: rapunzel and flynn 
╰ fan21: a real life prince and his princess 
╰ fan20: brb taking a shower with my toaster 🙃
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: home sweet home <3 
*replies disabled* 
yourusername posted on instagram         
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danielricciardo, landonorris, yourbestfriend, maxverstappen1, pierregasly & others liked 
dan and i are back home after a whole lot of travelling but please enjoy these moments that didn’t make our instagrams originally. we’ll see you all when racing starts back up, until then rest easy and thanks for joining us on this adventure. xo ❤️ 
tagged: danielricciardo 
comments limited 
danielricciardo: cant wait to do this for the rest of our lives 😘
╰ yourusername: already planning the next round of travels..😘
╰ danielricciardo: i wouldn’t expect anything less ! 
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thats it! i hope you liked it! i really enjoyed this concept and i loved getting to write something for danny !!
anyways i have a couple drafts started on longer pics that aren't smau style which is why they're taking a bit longer so bare with me, i want to get them right before posting and i want to be sure what i'm posting is something you all will enjoy reading but once i have something i will post as soon as possible!
until then goodbye and hopefully talk soon !! ✌🏻
489 notes · View notes
whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 months
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Pairing : Boyfriend!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : established relationship ; reader and Seungmin have only been dating for like 3 months ; Seungmin is a sweetie ; slight angst but mainly fluff ; Word Count : 1.7k Request : L ☆ : I was wondering if you could pleaseee do something fluff and sweet (just like him) with seungmin idk if you want to throw some angst in there, is up to you. thank u very much. A/N : slowly but surely making my way through requests! I got an offer for a job interview (at the time that I was writing this, I'm sure that I'll post about it before this comes out though) I'm so excited though!!
“I want to take you on a date…” Seungmin muttered through the phone, his voice quiet as if he were trying to hide it from the other guys that he was the sweetest, cutest, softest boyfriend in the whole world. “I’ll pick you up tonight. Make sure you bring a jacket, it’s cold.” He finished the call rather swiftly, and you were used to calls going like this, it made it easier for you, especially since you couldn’t get enough of his voice and your mind would always go fuzzy whenever you listened to him. 
As soon as you were sure that the call had ended and the line was disconnected, you allowed yourself a moment to let out a squeal of excitement, clutching your phone to your chest and jumping around in the center of your apartment. Some people would say that you were overly excited considering he and you had been dating for 3 months already, but you on the other hand found no issue in feeling like every date was like the first date. It just meant that you liked him, and you hoped that he felt the same way. 
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“Dinner was nice, thank you.” You whispered as you walked beside Seungmin. The sidewalks were busy, lined with other couples who had the same idea. You kept close to him though, your fingers practically brushing along one anothers, but they never latched together. 
“Mmhm…” He hummed back, glancing down at you and then straight forward once again. Sometimes it felt like he was getting tired or bored, but you’d calm that thought just as fast as it appeared, reminding yourself constantly that he chose you, and if he didn’t truly enjoy being with you he could leave whenever he wanted. “Are you cold?” He asked when he felt your body shiver, a particularly strong gust of wind making its way through the fabric of your coat. “We can get hot cocoa?” 
“Mm… I’d like that.” You smiled sweetly up at him, unaware that he had been looking down at you again until your eyes met, and you saw the blush on his cheeks darken, although you were sure he’d blame it on the chill.
Seungmin nodded, leading the way to the cafe, making sure to still stay close to you though as the streets seemed to become more and more crowded. “Do you want to sit inside?” He asked when you both finally got to the small building, which hadn’t been that far, but in the sea of people it seemed to take forever to get there. 
“Yes, please.” Your voice was so soft, he had to lean in closer just to hear you, the proximity had you both heating up and Seungmin quickly pulling away as he obviously tried to hide the smile that was pulling at the corners of his lips. “I can order the drinks while you find a table?” You offered, but he shook his head, sending you a knowing smile.
“I invited you on this date, I’m paying for the drinks. Go find the table.” He motioned towards the empty booth at the back of the cafe, and if there was one thing you knew, it was to not try to argue against him, you’d never win. It wasn’t from personal experience, but the other guys had filled your ears with many stories. So you made your way over, shimmying out of your coat and playing it beside you before sliding into the booth and watching Seungmin make his way up to the counter. 
As he made his way over to the table, you could see that his eyes weren’t on you, not that you minded, you didn’t want him staring at you, but it’s like his focus was on something else completely. When you followed the direction of his gaze, you saw that it was perfectly pointed at a girl at the table that was right beside yours. She was gorgeous, and while you weren’t usually the type to be self conscious, you couldn’t help but feel that way when you looked at her. She was there with her boyfriend, but Seungmin was definitely one of the most attractive guys you had found yourself lucky to date. That and he was an idol, you were sure that if given the opportunity, any woman would jump at the chance to be with him. 
“Be careful… It’s hot…” He said a little too quietly, it was more like a mumble, like his mind was stuck in some faraway land while his body was unfortunately at the table in this cafe with you. It felt like he was uninterested, he might as well just pull out his eyes and place them at the table with the other girl since he couldn’t seem to look away from her. 
“I can go…” You mumbled, your head lowering to try to hide the embarrassment that you knew was clearly written across your face. Truthfully, you didn’t want it to be a suggestion, you wanted to leave. There was no one in their right mind that would enjoy sitting across the table from their significant other who couldn’t keep their eyes off someone else. Maybe this was his way of telling you that he wanted to see other people, he was just doing it in the most literal way possible. 
“Huh?” He slowly turned to look at you, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrow’s furrowing. “Why?” The fact that he could still act so clueless, like he didn’t know the exact reason for you wanting to leave, was just a little bit agitating. “Do you want to go? I can walk you back to your place… I just thought that you’d want to spend a little longer together.” His eyes were now burning into the top of your head that had been lowered with embarrassment. 
“I… I don’t want to spend time with someone who just wants to look at other women.” Your voice was quiet, far too quiet, and you wondered if Seungmin had even heard you over the music that was playing over the speakers. “If that’s what you want to do, fine… But… Don’t invite me out on a date and do it.” You hated how weak you sounded when you called him out, it definitely didn’t sound as strong as you wanted it to. You probably sounded just as pathetic as you felt right now. 
There was a silence that filled the small bubble that seemed to surround the table that you both were sitting at. It was tension filled, and you felt queasy just from being in it a little bit too long. “What are you talking about?” He asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet as yours was, but his worrying had his voice cracking and rising in pitch, causing him to be louder than he wanted to be. “I’m… God, this is stupid…” He muttered, running his hand through his hair as he leaned back in his chair, his head tilted back far enough to stare up at the ceiling. 
“It is stupid…” You agreed, grabbing your coat and folding it over your elbow as you got up from the table, unbothered by the nighttime chill that you knew would be just outside the cafe doors. You were already heated enough, you felt like you were sweating. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Seungmin.” You gave him the parting words, trying to sound unfazed, but the lump in your throat was building and it felt like your air was being choked off. 
Seungmin wasn’t one to make a scene, and that’s the only reason he didn’t get up and grab your hand to pull you back. He wasn’t into PDA, he wasn’t one to really outwardly show his emotions in general, but watching you walk away had him panicking. “Dammit!” He hissed, grabbing both cups of hot cocoa and rushing out the door after you, trying his best not to spill them in the process. “Can you listen to me, please?” 
He had caught up with you, it didn’t even take him long, he was far better at navigating through large groups of people than you were. Sadly, he had caught you at a moment when it had been just long enough for you to have started crying. “I don’t want to hear about how pretty she was. I know how pretty she was. I know that I can’t be her, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have to be seen with me and not someone as gorgeous and perfect as she was.” 
His eyes were blinking rapidly as he stared at you, his mouth agape, sharp breaths coming out in little tufts of smoke in the cold winter air. “Oh… No… No! That’s… You’re wrong.” He said, his head shaking as the words rushed out of his mouth. “I’m stupid… And I didn’t want to tell you because it’s embarrassing… I wanted you to think I was cool and… And I… I was looking because I wanted to know what to do.” Now it was your turn to be confused, your eyebrows lowering as you waited for him to explain further what the hell it was that he meant by that. “I’m not… good. I’m not good at dates, I’m not good at this…” He motioned between the two of you, sighing dejectedly, his entire body seeming to hunch forward with shame. “I just wanted to do it right… I thought if I watched them I could figure out how to make you smile and laugh and be happy the way she was with her boyfriend.” 
“Minnie…” You whispered out the little pet name that always flustered him when you used it, and this time was no different, his cheeks once again turning a light shade of pink when you said it. “You don’t have to study how other couples are on their dates. You don’t have to be like other guys… If I wanted you to be like them, I would just be with them. I like being with you though, because you do make me happy and you make me laugh and you make me smile. You’re perfect… That’s why I was so worried… I don’t want to lose you…” 
“And you won’t… You’re not.” He reassured you quickly, like his entire life depended on those words leaving his mouth and being heard by you. “I’m sorry I made you worry… I’m sorry I was so stupid… Can we continue our date now? I really wanted to spend more time with you… If you’d like. It’s up to you though.” 
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