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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 ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #Single mom!reader #reader insert

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Slice of Paradise

a/n My brain literally now run only on Joel... So here's a little something something. 🫧

summary: Joel dream of having a farmhouse comes true. What makes it even better is that he's not there alone. He has his own little family to enjoy this little slice of paradise with him.

warnings: just tooth rotting fluff, mention of reader being pregnant, mentions of morning sickness.

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If someone were to tell you that somewhere along the line you were going to end up at a place like Jackson in a farmhouse with a loving husband and kids, you would have laughed at them. Or brushed it off to the outback insanity. It seemed impossible. Safety seemed impossible at first. Then followed freedom and, of course, happiness. Those things appeared to be worthy of history textbooks. They could have a title like - at some point in human history, they were happy.

It was hard to move past deaths and past killings. Making sure you kept your humanity alive. Not to become a killing monster. Similar to clickers or any other of those fuckers. When Ellie happened, you had a feeling your life was going to change. You just never imagined it would change so drastically. You and Joel had settled for a dull day-to-day routine. Coming to terms with the fact that your life in QZ was as good as it could get. You never complained. You had one after another. Others didn't even have that kind of luxury.

But here you were now. In a little farmhouse with green shutters that Joel and Ellie had painted over for you because that's what you had always wanted. A garden - full of flowers that you tended to. Of course, to share with the town, but also for your own enjoyment. A couple of dozen of sheep were carelessly plucking grass in the fields around. Something that Joel wanted. Something that had helped him think clearer.

You hummed to yourself. Cutting up the last pieces for supper. The warm spring sun peeped through the windows, only making the smile on your face bigger. It still seemed surreal at times. Like all this was just a dream. One from which you never wanted to awaken. A little flutter in your stomach made you stop. Hand slipping on your five-month pregnant belly. Big enough to let everyone know that you were with a child but not big enough to make it hard for you to move around just yet.

Joel still found the walk to the house odd. It was weird in itself that he had a home to come to. And it wasn't the house itself that surprised him. Oh, no. You, Ellie, and now the baby that was on its was what made it home. A place where he could finally let go. Where the ghost of his past had a harder time finding him. Joel had finally been able to see the bigger picture. He was finally a part of a bigger picture.

With a gun still on his shoulder, Joel opened the wooden gates as he strolled towards the house. The dog on the side of the patio lifted his head, and Joel quickly reached to scratch his ear. "Hi, Brandy, why are you out in front, boy?", Joel questioned as the dog eagerly wagged his tail.

Ellie had come up with the name. She was eager for Joel to name the pup. No one else was allowed to pick a name. "Oh, come on, old thing! Think of something", she said, pushing for a thousand time. She wiggled a toy in her hand as the dog jumped around happily. "I don't know, Ellie. Just name it yourself," he grumbled, even though he knew that she wasn't going to drop the subject until he came up with something. "How about that nasty shit you always drink?", suggested Ellie, looking up. "Brandy?" Joel questioned, and the dog cocked his head at the sound of Joel's voice. Ellie's eyes grew big as she clapped happily. "You like it, boy? Do you like the name? He likes Brandy," she chirped happily. You leaned closer to Joel, laughing as he shook his head, and yet the smile was evident.

The house was quiet as Joel undid his jacket before hanging it up neatly. Knowing that you would be up his sleeve if he left a mess behind himself. He made his way through the house, stopping to listen in the living room. Hoping that he would pick up any sound that would lead him to you. And he did. A light humming came from the kitchen.

And you were indeed there; however, Joel nearly had a heart attack when he saw you standing up on the counter as you tried to reach for something in the upper cabinets. "Have you gone mad, woman", his voice started you, making you nearly drop the jar of spices in your hands. Joel's hands came off either side of your torso as he carefully lifted you off the counter. Your hands pressing into his shoulders.

"What are you doing here?", you questioned, not expecting him to be home just yet. Hence your little adventure. "The better question is, why were you up on the counter at five months pregnant?" You rolled your eyes at him. Appreciating the protectiveness but also slightly hating that now he thought that you were made of glass. "I needed this," you said as you fiddled with the jar in your hands. Moving to take off the lid of the pot before pouring some of it in. Joel's hands didn't leave your sides. "You get the step stool for that, love; we talked about it. You can't do this weird monkey shit; you're not ten." You turned back to your husband. Hands moving to cup his face as you looked at him, "You haven't seen half of my tricks", "I will tie you to the chair if you'll continue to do stuff like that", Joel warned you, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, "Don't forget your gun while you watch over me then".

His eyes altered as he glanced at you, and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Joel leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, "I just don't want you both to get hurt." You moved your palms to run up and down his chest. "I know, honey, I promise no more jumping on counters," you said softly, kissing the tip of his nose. "Unless you're supervising me," you chirp, causing Joel to let out a chuckle.

"How are you feeling today?", Joel's tender palms slipped to run over your bump, and you hummed in delight as the warmth from his skin seeped through your flowy dress. "We're good. I didn't start my morning with a head down the toilet, can you believe it?", you cackled, and Joel gave you a knowing look. Morning sickness had taken its toll on you. To the point where he had rushed you to the doctor in town when you blacked out after vomiting for an hour straight. Joel refused to do any morning petrol after that. He wanted. He needed to be by your side. Even if every time you tried to usher him out of the bathroom, claiming it must be extremely disgusting to him.

"That's good, I was worried the whole morning," he admitted, focusing his attention on the bump. "Joel, we are all okay," your hand slipped on top of his, "She's been happily kicking away all morning," "She? No, it's a boy, aren't you, little guy?" Joel leaned down, pressing a lovely kiss and then the other on the swell of your tummy. Shortly after, a light kick followed up Joel's touch, making the male smile as he repeated the action once again.

"And where's El?", Joel asked, looking around the place. She usually sat by the island doing her homework happily by now, but there was no sight of her there. You hummed, "She said she would come a bit later than usual. She's out with a friend," you wiggled your brows, briefly turning your gaze to the food. "A friend?", "Yeah, Dina I think, and I suspect she likes her", a smile spread on your face as you thought about the little girly chat you two had.

"That's good; she deserves to have a friend. Good for her," Joel's arms were still roaming your skin as you turned back to him, giving him a look, "No, Joel. I mean, like, like her," Joel's face blanked as the realization dawned on him, and you hummed. "She brought in pancakes with fruit and cream to school to share with her", you giggled. Joel stayed silent as he stared ahead of himself. It felt silly, but Joel was almost jealous that Ellie suddenly had someone else in her life. Like he didn't want to share her with anyone else. You three had fallen into such conformable dynamics. It felt easy, and it felt right. To Joel, Ellie was still too young to date or have a crush. "Wipe the frown off your face; it's not like she's getting married already," you said as you nudged your husband's shoulder as he folded his hands over his chest.

"Mom," Ellie's voice echoed down the corridor. Your heart fluttered. It still did. Even after more than a year of her referring to you like that. She had sat you and Joel down after a month or two of you moving into the farmhouse. She was a stuttering mess as she tried to explain, or more specifically, ask if she would be allowed to call you her parents.

"Because we like live together, and then you let me stay, and I have my room. But the room, of course, means nothing, but you like wanted me to stay so…", you reached for her hand and then gave it a little squeeze as you cut her ramble off. "I'd be honored to be your mom," you said softly, and Ellie bit down on her lower lip in hopes of stopping it from quivering. Her eyes landed on Joel, who had his arms crossed over his chest. His usual stance - an unapproachable demeanor that he hadn't dropped even now. "Go ahead, just no daddy shit, or you're sleeping in the stables," Joel said. Ellie instantly rounded the corner of the table and launched herself into Joel's arms. Hugged his torso as she smiled. "Okay, daddy," she whispered, making Joel tickle her.

You smiled to yourself as the memory melted into your mind. "In the kitchen, baby," you shouted back. Joel's hand moved back to your hip as he and you waited for Ellie to appear. The footsteps sounded weird. Not as familiar. As if there were more than one set of them. And well, your hearing hadn't failed you, as another girl appeared on Ellie's left side. "Oh, dad, I thought you wouldn't be home." Ellie's face paled slightly, as she noticed Joel, but the lazy smile on his face made her ease up almost instantly. "I missed my girls; I thought I'd surprise you," he said in return. In a way, he was hoping that Ellie would run up to hug him like she always did when Joel returned from work, but he also understood that now that she had a friend here, she probably wouldn't do so.

"Ah… well, this is Dina, a friend from school," Ellie said shyly, and the girl by her side waved nervously at you two, "Can she stay for dinner?" Joel studied the girl. The girl who possibly Ellie liked. He tried to pinpoint the features she might have taken to her liking. "Of course, that would be lovely. Go wash your hands, you two, and I'll come to get you when it's ready." Stepping closer, you caressed Ellie's cheeks tenderly. She flashed you a bright smile as she took Dina by the hand, and the two ran up the stairs laughing.

You turned back to your husband, fanning your hands in front of your eyes as the tears parked up, clouding your vision. "Sugar, what's all of this for?", Joel stepped closer to you, embracing you once again. "Don't pay attention, hormones," you muttered, wiping away the tears. Joel chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Didn't you just tell me that she ain't getting married just yet?", he teased, making you bite down your lip. As another wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, "Imagine her in a dress, no, a suit—she would do a suit, ahh," you whimpered, covering your face with your hands.

Joel shook his head, pulling you even closer to him, his hands running up and down your back, soothing you. Secretly enjoying this more sensitive side of you. That one that cried at Brandy bathing in the sun or Ellie's school project. Even Joel's neatly folded clothes had you shedding tears. Joel breathed in the scent of you. One hand slipped back down onto your bump. "Take nice, big breaths, honey. Want a glass of water?", he asked, shifting, reaching for a cup as he guided you to sit down on the chair. Quickly stirring the pot before turning back to you.

"Do you think this little bug will grow up just as fast?", your hand slipped over your bump subconsciously once more. Joel hummed, "Don't they all? We'll blink, and this one will be climbing up the countertops," you sniffed again, unable to suppress a grin. "Go to your sheep before you turn me into a puddle", you waved Joel away playfully. It had been his habit for some time. He had a little talk with his soft friend before he sat down for dinner. A way for him to digest the day.

"Do I at least get a kiss?", Joel cocked his head to the side, watching you. "Do you think you deserve one?", "For putting a baby inside you, yes." You let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Joel, dear God, they might hear you", he lets out a deep belly laugh, stepping closer to you, "Shut me up with a kiss", you roll your eyes. Cupping his cheeks before you leaned in, as you pressed your lips to Joel's in a tender kiss. Yeah, this was home, and even if Joel often thought he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't trade it for anything else.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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byunpum · 1 year

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Aunt Y/N sully being the 'cool one' in the family.

Pair: Nephews sully x Aunt human reader x Ao'nung and tsireya and rotxo baby.

Warning: None, cute moments with sully and metkayina kids. Aunt Y/N being cool.

Note: I received these two request "click here".i I wanted to put them together since I had no ideas on a scenario. But I still hope you like it a lot. Thanks for leaving these requests, I love the aunt Y/N series.

AVATAR MASTERLIST

Jake had to beg Ronal to let you stay with them at the Metkayina clan. He was worried that you were in danger. You were his younger sister, and he was very sure that Quaritch would come looking for you. So he went to great lengths to get them to let you move in with them. To his good luck they agreed.

On the other hand your nephews were so excited to have you with them in their new home. You made the adjustment more comfortable and fun.

It didn't take long for them to introduce you to the Metkayina children. They were so curious, they had heard so many stories about how amazing you are and all that. "Hello…I am" you start to speak, when you feel Rotxo take your hand and greet you. Trying to make you feel comfortable with a human greeting. Lo'ak had taught you several things. "hello my name is rotxo!!!" the boy shouts, you think he is very adorable.

From that moment on, no matter where you went or what you were doing all 6 boys were after you. Watching and asking everything you did, everything you did was new and cool to them. Like riding waves, human style.

"This is called a surfboard" you say, while presenting the new work of art you had created. You got an old wood, and you were working on it to make it perfect for the waves. "And you climb on it?" asks ao'nung, the boy's tail wagging from side to side. While neteyam and lo'ak was already getting on the board.

"Yes, you get on it and let you ride the waves" you make a motion with your hands. You watch as tsireya copies you and imitates your movements. You take the board and walk out into the ocean. The day was perfect for surfing. You watch as all the guys sit on the sand to watch you demonstrate.

You are sitting on the board, moving your hands in the water. You had a beautiful metkayina outfit. You weren't ashamed to wear navi clothes, they looked great on you. You were waiting for the perfect wave, but you look back and see your new admirers looking at you with excitement.

A very big wave is coming and this is your chance. You swim towards it and with ease you can ride the wave. The guys are fascinated, watching how you glide with ease, how you have a perfect balance. And how you get lost in the tunnel and the wave drops.

"Oye…. your aunt is gone" says ao'nung while looking at neteyam. The boy gets up from the ground, trying to see if you are on the surface. Out of nowhere you swim out with your board. You see that all the guys are clapping. "That was awesome…it's my turn" says lo'ak running into the water.

Later that week, after a day of practice. All the kids are sitting around talking, and you walk up to them with something in your hands. "Hello my loves" you say tenderly. " Helloooo" sings tuk, coming up to you, to hug you.

You start handing her some kind of knitting ponchos. You had made one for each of your nephews. Since they were little, but you realized that they had already grown up a lot. They barely fit him and tuk ended up wearing them all.

You give one to kiri, neteyam and lo'ak. And a smaller one to tuk. You notice how the other kids look at you curiously. You laugh a little. "I also made some for my new kids" you say. You give tsireya, ao'nung and rotxo their knitting ponchos. The kids are so excited. They watch as the sullys kids try them on and they do the same.

"They look great!!!" you arrange the garment a bit on rotxo's shoulders. "Can we call you auntie Y/N?" asks tsireya, you adjust her hair a little bit. "Of course!!!" you smile. Saying goodbye to the guys.

"Your aunt is so cool… and pretty" says rotxo while blushing. Everyone looks at him in silence and then laughs all together.

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thatsdemko · 1 year

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papa carlos - c.sainz

pairings: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader

warnings: established relationship + kid has been given a name

a/n: my little heart needs this rn! also feedback is always appreciated xx

she’s sound asleep beside you on the couch. you promised your baby girl, Sofia, she could stay up until her fathers arrival home, but the minute she got comfortable under the blankets, she was out.

piñon’s head rests on her stomach, two of them in a blissful sleeping state, you envy it a little. wishing you weren’t awake right now, rather asleep in your bed in your husbands arms. alas, you’re on the couch watching his location grow closer and closer to home.

it’s not long until you give into the heaviness of your eyelids. you close them allowing slumber to take over, and when he enters the home and no one is there to greet him, he can only figure you’re asleep.

he sees the glow from the television indicating you’re in the living room still awake. he tsk’s you for not just going to bed, he never understood why you stayed awake for him.

when he enters the living room he sees all three of you asleep. Sofia’s head is rested on your chest, piñon is visibly dreaming, head on Sofia’s stomach, and your eyelids are rapidly moving. the day washes away from him when he sees you three, any worries or anger gets taken over by pure happiness.

he finds the remote tangled up in the blankets, he’s careful to not wake anyone, but piñon gets a whiff of his, second, favorite humans scent, the dogs tail wags but Carlos quickly shushes him with a kiss before the television screen turns black.

he finds an extra blanket and makes sure to toss it over your body, he knows how cold you get in your sleep. he knows the tiny princess blanket you’re wrapped in won’t be enough when you finally wake up. he makes sure to press a kiss to everyone’s forehead before moving into the kitchen to check for anything that needs tidying.

you stir to the sound of his strategic footsteps, you can hear him hissing at his squeaky shoes that you know he’s already taken off. you want to get up and greet him, ask about his day, but the tiredness of your own life seems to win as your eyelids shut once more.

Sofia awakes to the sound of the back door opening and the jingles of piñons collar. she gets up from the blankets, little legs carrying her to the kitchen where her father sits hovered over a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“daddy!” she whisper yells, she’s aware you’re still asleep but she’s so excited to see he’s, finally, home. she rushes into his lap, tiny arms wrap around his neck.

“hola princesa,” he presses a kiss to her cheek, big brown loving eyes staring back at him, his heart feels so much love, it’s almost painful it might explode.

he brushes her messy brown hair from her face, tucking the strains behind her ear, “go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be there soon.” he sends her off with one final kiss and he watches her little legs carry her back to the living room where you’re still asleep.

she curls right back into the same spot, and when piñon is finally let back inside, he heads for the couch, head resting on Sofia’s stomach once again.

carlos readies himself for bed. he makes sure to grab Sofia’s favorite stuffed animal on his way to the couch, and he tucks it in her arms watching her sleepy smile grow at the familiar touch of the animal.

he grabs the last available blanket on the couch, he’s on the opposite end of you. you feel his leg move in between your slightly parted legs. when you open your eyes you see he’s sound asleep and Sofia has now moved from next to you, to sleeping on her fathers chest.

the two of their chests rise and fall in synchronization, you can’t help but smile before sleep takes over you once again, eyes falling heavy in content of your beautiful family.

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sc0tters · 9 months

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The Day It Went Down | Trevor Zegras

summary: you haven’t seen Trevor for weeks, so when he lands up at your door you can’t help it when you fall back into old ways.

part one of the babies and buddies series

warnings: sexual themes, fingering, p in v (unprotected), swearing.

word count: 1.66k

author notes: you guys have been waiting for this one but the Trevor and Hughes sister AU is officially here! I have been writing this piece for days late at night so a lot of it might not make sense but she’s here and she’s happy so we will accept here as it is.

To say you were surprised when he showed up at your door was an understatement.

It was a humid Californian afternoon and you had been sat on your floor getting ready for the a night out with friends when there was a knock at the door “Z?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you opened your door.

The boy took in your sight as you were currently sporting an orange dress that complimented your freshly painted nails “interesting look.” Trevor smiled motioning to the curling rollers that were still in your hair “may I?” He added as you nodded pushing your door open further to let him in.

Your living room hadn’t changed since the hockey player last saw it with everything including the pictures of your brothers and family scattered around your apartment. It reminded Trevor of just who you were “what do you want?” Your words weren’t meant to come out as harsh as they had done so “missed you.” Trevor’s confession came out soft and cute.

What one would have made you smile honestly made you want to pull your hair out “sure you aren’t meant to be saying that to Dixie?” Your arms crossed unintentionally pushing your breasts up “you jealous of her?” The hockey player smirked as he moved across the room to stand with you. The rumours of them had been coming thick and fast since April but now as you two were into June you figured that it only could have gotten more serious for the two of them.

Trevor let his hands run over the satin fabric of your dress as your hands reached up to pull the roller from your hair “why would I be jealous if you don’t want me?” You blinked raking your fingers through your hair “we were only just sleeping together after all.” Your words made him frown as it felt like a punch to the gut.

Twelve months ago you two ended up sharing a drunk night together after you were in the same bar that he was in celebrating a big win. You were stood at the bar waiting for a drink and that was truly all Trevor needed to come up and talk to you.

The boy sighed as he forced your face to look at his “we weren’t just sleeping together.” His finger brushed along your cheek “look I’ve got to leave in thirty minutes.” You sighed pushing away from him as you walked back to your room.

Trevor was hot on your tail as he grew alarmed “a date?” The words felt foreign as they danced on his tongue “what I do is none of your business now Trevor.” You laughed shaking your head.

It felt hypocritical coming from the boy “you think he could fuck you like I do?” Trevor walked up behind you letting his breath send shivers down your spine “he could fuck me even better.” You weren’t even going out with a guy but the boy clearly didn’t know that.

His hands pushed up your dress causing you to gasp “you sure about that baby?” The hockey player grunted running his finger along a high part of your thigh “if I felt your panties they wouldn’t be soaked?” He added watching as your head leaned back against his chest eyes rolling back into your head as your jaw went slack.

Your body melted at his touch “so dry,” the game you were playing was one that you were close to losing “tell me to stop and I will.” Trevor pulled your dress even higher revealing your black panties.

Instead of talking you remained silent letting out a little gasp as his fingers slipped under the fabric “please Z.” You begged finally giving the boy a green light to have his way with you.

The hockey player smirked moving his hand to cup your pussy “fucking hell baby.” Trevor groaned two fingers teasing your clit before he moved them down your slit to thrust them into your pussy.

Your soaked cunt wrapped around his fingers making you both feel hot “Trev.” You moaned as the hockey player used his other hand to wrap around your neck pushing your head up of that he could kiss your lips “I know baby, I know.” His lips were rough against yours as he let out a grunt squeezing his hand around your neck when your eyes locked onto his.

For someone who was getting ready for girls night you were surprisingly horny as you squeezed around the hockey players fingers “you enjoying this?” Trevor smirked watching your face contort in your mirror “huh baby?” He added as you remained quiet “don’t stop Z,” you begged bringing your hips to meet his fingers as he added his thumb focused his attention on your clit.

As you forced your ass against his cock he couldn’t help but grunt “I’m gonna come.” You announced forcing the movement of your hips to go quicker than before “not so fast baby.” Trevor clicked his tongue retracting his fingers from your panties “you thought it was going to be so easy to come when get dressed like this for someone else?” He laughed at the words as you spun around to finally face him.

Trevor looked down at you as he licked his lips like he had seen this as some kind of challenge “real fucking hypocritical of you.” You grumbled placing your hands on his chest as you pushed him back into your bed hit the back of his knees causing him to fall back bringing you with him “you think you. Can. Go. And. Fuck. Someone. Else. And. I. Can’t?” You kissed his lips between each word as your hands reached down to fiddle with the drawstring of the shorts.

The hockey player groaned watching your tongue dart out of your mouth as you focused on moving his cock out of his boxers “never fucked her.” Trevor confessed as your hand teased his cock rubbing up the skin “just you baby.” The boy felt his body shudder as you used his hardened head to tease your clit “I’m still on the pill.” You announced letting your cunt swallow his cock as you sank down on it.

Condoms were something you two had let leave your relationship months ago after you both realised that there was nothing hotter than you coming around his bare cock “shit baby.” Trevor grunted as he began to guide your hips letting you move.

It was hot as your hands went to his shoulder “you always feel so good.” The hockey player confessed as his forehead leaned against yours.

You didn’t want to admit it but you missed these intimate moments with anyone in general as you hadn’t slept with anyone since Trevor took a step back from his relationship with you “missed having me like this?” You smirked as you turned back to look at him.

The boy moaned as you clenched around his cock “thought about you all the time.” The hockey player mumbled as his fingers dug into your sides guiding your hips against his “what would Jack think about you saying that?” Your mention of your brother causing his one hand to brush at your clit “what would he think about you on top of me.” Trevor spat as he let his other hand reach out to slap your hand.

It was now clear that him letting you take control was now over as he had enough of your fun “pull that top off so I can see those pretty tits of yours.” He ordered making your cunt clench around his cock “shit Z,” you cried as you pulled the straps of your dress down bringing your bra with it “you’re so hot.” You added as he brought his lips down to your nipples letting his tongue swirl over the sensitive peaks.

Your fingers locked into his hair “don’t stop T,” your body began to shake “not so strong now are we?” Trevor smirked as you shook your head letting your hands cup his cheeks as you kissed him.

The sight of you two was almost amusing as you were both still fully clothed with your panties pulled to the side as you rode his cock “think you knew I was going to come back to you.” The hockey player confessed as his thumb that was once on your clit moved up to your stomach “feel me right here?” He added making you gasp as he pressed his hand against your skin forcing you to stare back at his eyes as their hardened gaze brought you closer to your high “so big.” You murmured letting your eyes screw shut.

You were still sensitive from the orgasm he never let you have “gonna come.” You cried out as you began letting your hips bounce as Trevor helped move them.

The sight of your breasts bouncing in his face made the boy groan as he let his head rest between them “so fucking beautiful,” Trevor mumbled as he looked up to watch you come.

You were scratching your fingers over his shirt as your body almost collapsed against him “you’re so good baby.” He cooed as his come shot into your cunt that practically soaked it in as your release mixed with his.

Trevor spun you over so that he was now on top of you as his cock slid out of your pussy “can’t have you wasting a drop of this.” The boy grumbled shaking his head as he used two fingers to bring his come back into your pussy.

Your body jumped as his fingers pushed back into you “what are you doing?” You asked blinking at him as he hovered over you “making up for lost time.” The hockey player explained letting his cock tease your clit again.

For now you were going to enjoy this, because it two weeks you were back at the lake house.

Where everything as you knew it would change, forever.

#zegras x pregnant hughes AU!#Trevor zegras smut #Trevor zegras imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #nhl fic #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

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And I cried when you first said, "Oel ngati kameie" - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader (forbidden love)

summary: despite her father's wariness of the sully's and their 'demon-blood,' y/n can't help but feel drawn to neteyam. as the two of them bond over their similar experiences of parental pressure, he finds himself falling in love with her

contains: love triangle, friends to lovers, forbidden romance/love, daddy issues (idk where that came from), fluff

wc: 5.7k

a/n: damn, i was hoping to post this like six hours ago but i did not expect for a oneshot to take a whole day to edit. please don't question me about neteyam and y/n's father, i don't want to develop that plot further bc this is a oneshot, so just assume it's a happy ending

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Ever since the Sully family moved to Awa’atlu, whether for better, or for the worst, they became the center of attention. Despite the initial wariness of their nature, villagers eventually seemed to warm up to them, making their stay more comfortable. But unlike the others, you remained hesitant to approach them, your father's warnings of their 'demon-blood' weighing heavily on your mind. It was only in these rare moments, when you couldn't help but notice their oldest son, Neteyam.

“Where were you? I needed you there exactly for situations like this,” Jake raised his voice at Neteyam, “You’re supposed to look after your siblings!”

You watched from a distance, observing the way Neteyam hunched in shame and nodded his head in acceptance of the fault, the way he’d blink rapidly to avoid the tears welling up in his eyes, every time his father’s voice would get louder. It was a familiar sight to you, one that brought back memories of your own father raising his voice at you for disappointing him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Neteyam expressed with sincere guilt in his voice, “I promise I’ll do better next time.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, “Dismissed.”

Jake's pained expression mirrored the face of your own father after his angry outbursts. Ever since your mother's passing, the responsibility of caring for your younger brother Tewtxey had fallen on your shoulders. Your father was tough on you, stricter than the other parents. He believed that protection meant safety, rarely showing you any tenderness. But he had no idea how much his tough love only made you rougher around the edges and deepened the resentment you felt towards him. You despised him in the depths of your heart, unable to make up for his harsh ways with the love you craved from him.

The sight of Neteyam rushing off into the trees tugged at your heartstrings. You guessed that he was in a hurry to find a private corner where he could finally break down. But as much as you wanted to trail after him and tell him that you understood, that it was no big deal to mess up sometimes, you couldn’t. You weren’t close like that, in fact, your interactions had been limited to mere greetings exchanged in passing. Yet, you had witnessed the way his father scolded him for his siblings’ troublemaking on many occasions now, and it felt like you knew him. You were already struggling to take care of one sibling, you couldn’t imagine how hard it was on him to keep an eye on three.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“And what were you thinking leaving Tewtxey alone?” your father was pacing around your marui, tail swishing aggressively from side to side.

You winced when he halted directly in front of you, waiting expectantly for an answer. It was easy for you to tune him out whenever he went on long angry rants, counting down minutes for him to cool down, but whenever he wanted you to answer him, that was when you felt your blood boil. Admitting to your mistakes verbally, without sounding defensive, was a challenge.

“He wasn’t alone,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?”

“I said, he wasn’t alone. He was with Tuktirey, and her father was watching them,” you raised your head slightly to look at his face.

“I told you I do not trust that demon,” your father spat through gritted teeth, “How could you leave your little brother with him?”

“Dad, he is the Toruk Makto. Hasn’t he proved himself to be one of us?” you felt irritated with your father’s stubbornness.

You knew that it was a sensitive subject for him. Having lost his mate to a stupid, pointless interaction with sky people, he was forever in deep hatred towards them. He was conflicted when he first found out about Toruk Makto’s past. It was difficult to respect someone who was a dreamwalker, whose children were only 'half-Na’vi.'

“You dare to challenge me?” he raised his voice at you, sending a shiver down your spine, “All I ask of you is to protect your brother! Is it so hard to listen to me? Is it so hard to understand why your mother is no longer here?”

He hit a nerve with the last question. Of course, ever since her passing, you missed your mother terribly. She was the balance in your family, the gentle touch you craved. But instead of bonding over the loss, your relationship with your father grew more distant. Suddenly, you were too reckless for him, too distracted. He was scared of how much you resembled your mother, of the possibility of the same fate befalling you.

“I’m sorry,” you hung your head in defeat.

Your father began pacing around the room again, his mind searching for another reason to scold you for. It seemed like it wasn’t enough to make you understand how disappointed he was. He stopped, when his eyes landed on the spear resting against the wall. You drew in a sharp breath, realizing that you had forgotten to sharpen the weapon for his upcoming hunt.

“What is this?” he gripped the spear tightly, pointing it accusingly at you, “Are you abandoning your chores now?”

“I forgot about it,” you mumbled.

“I cannot understand what could be keeping you so occupied all day that you neglect your duties. What kind of behavior is this, Y/N?”

Taking the spear from his hand, you stepped back, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes. It wasn't his disappointment that frustrated you; it was his inability to see things from your perspective. He didn’t understand how hard it was on you to grow up without a mother, to always be strong in front of him.

“I’ll do it now,” you promised, taking another step back, “May I go now?”

“Go!” your father shouted.

You fled the marui, gasping for breath to calm yourself down. It felt like all the emotions you had been suppressing came crashing down on you at once. But before you could even begin to process them, the sight in front of you captured your attention.

Your brother was standing with his back turned to you, Neteyam crouched down in front of him not too far. They were playing some sort of game with their hands, when the pair of golden eyes followed your walk up to them. Your brother seemed to pay you no mind, but Neteyam lifted his gaze to greet you with his thick accent.

You only nodded, pursing your lips together and deciding to send away your brother after he’s finished with the game. As you watched them play, it wasn’t hard to notice how distracted Neteyam was by your presence. He’d constantly glance at you to read your expressions, and you guessed he heard the argument that was unraveling minutes ago. Taking advantage of his opponent’s distraction, your brother exclaimed in victory.

“Good job,” Neteyam smiled, patting your brother’s head.

“Y/N, did you see?” Tewtxey looked up to you with a bright smile. You were forced to return it, placing an arm around his shoulder.

“I did. Now go home and eat, alright?”

Your gentle approach has always worked wonders with your little brother, unlike your father's strictness. He usually obeyed you without hesitation. Tewtxey smiled at Neteyam one last time before leaving the two of you alone. Neteyam stood up, looming over you with his frame.

“He was bouncing around here and looked scared to go in,” he began to explain, “I just wanted to distract him before things cooled down.”

You nodded in agreement. You were always worried that Tewtxey would get caught in the crossfire of your arguments with your father. He was too young to be involved.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Neteyam’s gaze softened, eyes roaming over your features again.

Given the distance from your marui, Neteyam had likely heard everything. He seemed to be curious about how much you were hiding, how the pained expression on your face a few minutes ago was now replaced by a neutral one. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, the weight of the spear in your hand suddenly seeming heavier.

“Well, I have to go,” you cleared your throat, stepping back.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.

You nodded, turning to leave. Neteyam trailed after you as you walked towards the far end of the beach. When you sat down to sharpen the spear, he joined you and plopped down quietly beside you.

“Are you sure you’re alright? That sounded harsh,” he broke the silence.

You blinked rapidly, not daring to meet his golden eyes. Instead, you tried focusing at the task on hand, your motions quick and rough, attempting to make the tip of the spear as pointed as you could. The wood occasionally nicked your fingers, causing stinging pain, but you paid no attention to it. Neteyam watched you silently for a moment, before he reached out and took the spear from your hands, setting it aside. You exhaled, finally meeting his eyes.

“I'm alright. My father just doesn’t know how to handle this by himself."

“Handle what by himself?”

“Me, I guess…raising me. Without mom by his side.”

You were a mystery to Neteyam from the first day of his arrival, always keeping a distance with him, as your father’s harsh gaze grazed his family whenever they crossed paths in public. Neteyam didn’t really understand the reason for the dislike but the argument he overheard earlier helped him piece together some of the puzzle.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he said quietly, “Ao’nung mentioned it once to us. It must have been hard without her.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, turning your gaze towards the horizon.

The gentle sound of waves crashing against each other accompanied the sunset, casting a sparkling glow on the water.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

After that moment you shared with Neteyam, you often found yourself running into each other. Whether it was after a fight with your father, or a stressful day for Neteyam, you somehow managed to offer each other a listening ear.

It was easy to open up to him, when you knew he could relate. His eyes always softened at the sight of you, arms instinctively reaching out to pat you on the back whenever you sobbed into his chest after another heavy argument. It seemed like with age, your father was becoming more unbearable, and refused to understand you on any given matter.

“What did he say?” Neteyam asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Well, he saw us hanging out, so make your guess,” you let out a bitter chuckle, wiping your face.

Neteyam couldn’t help but feel partially guilty for the treatment you were getting. He knew about your father's disapproval of him, but he couldn't resist spending time with you and offering comfort after a fight, even if he was the cause of it. You were the only person with whom he could share his own struggles, and feel accepted.

Of course, hanging out with Neteyam was also a way for you to rebel against your father's orders and show him that he couldn't control you. He didn’t realize that it was his hatred that pushed you further into Neteyam’s arms.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the weeks passed, your friendship with Neteyam grew stronger. There was something special between you but you failed to see the impact you were having on Neteyam's life. You had become the first thought on his mind every morning, his trainings passed in hopes to see you. When he was with you, he wished for time to stand still. And when he went to sleep, he anticipated dreaming about you. But Neteyam was fully aware of the risks of catching feelings for someone whose family despised him.

So he bit his tongue, hoping that you wouldn’t notice it. That maybe with time, things will get better. He was from a different clan, and your father had a clear disdain for him. Even if you reciprocate his feelings, pursuing you would be complicated, if not impossible. But he couldn't deny the warmth he felt in his chest every time he saw you, the way his heart fluttered when you laughed at his jokes. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more between you two, yet he was forced to push the thought aside.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

But jealousy is a disease that brings out the worst in one. Neteyam felt it brewing inside him, as he intensely watched you talking to Ao’nung. Despite knowing about your close friendship with Ao’nung, Neteyam didn’t like him. The way his smile widened every time you said something, the way he stood so close to you…it made his blood boil.

He tried hard to focus on sharpening his arrow, not to raise suspicion in Tsireya and Lo'ak next to him, but his eyes kept drifting to you and Ao'nung. With another stroke of his knife, he accidentally grazed his finger, catching Tsireya’s attention.

“Lo’ak, could you please bring me my shawl? It’s getting chilly,” she asked, her eyes big and innocent.

Lo’ak stood up without a question, not paying attention to his brother’s strange behavior. As soon as he was out of earshot, Tsireya turned her concerned gaze back to Neteyam. He was still watching you with Ao’nung, now sitting down on the sand, your knees touching, deep in a conversation. He had never even heard Ao’nung speak to his friends for more than five minutes, what could he possibly be saying to captivate your attention for so long? Neteyam scoffed in disbelief.

“Is something bothering you?” Tsireya asked. His head snapped to her, embarrassed that he got caught.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, returning to the task at hand.

For a moment, Neteyam pondered whether he should ask Tsireya about her brother. Find out if the rumors he had heard from Rotxo were true, if there was a possibility of you being promised to Ao'nung.

“Tsireya, can I ask you something?” he lowered his voice.

“Sure,” she nodded. When Neteyam hesitated to continue, looking around, she reassured him, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Um…Is it true that Ao’nung and Y/N are to become mated?”

Tsireya frowned slightly, and Neteyam couldn’t tell if it was because of his sudden interest in the matter, or because it was untrue. He gulped, secretly hoping it was the latter. She took a long pause before answering.

“Sorry, you caught me off guard,” she apologized, “I just haven’t heard that rumor in a long time.”

“So, it is a rumor?”

“They haven’t promised themselves to each other as mates, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Tsireya elaborated, making Neteyam cringe in embarrassment, “But I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“What do you mean?” his ears perked up at the implication.

“Well…” she sighed, “Ao’nung and Y/N always have been close friends. And my father is quite vocal about his admiration for her. He thinks she can be a good mate to Ao’nung, when he becomes the chief.”

Neteyam's eyes darted all over Tsireya's face, trying to understand if there was anything else she wasn’t saying.

"What about Y/N?" he asked, quickly glancing in your direction, "Does she like him? Does she feel pressured because of your father or something?"

“Any girl would feel pressured by my father, but I cannot speak for Y/N,” she answered honestly, “If it makes you feel easy, Y/N and Ao’nung never crossed their boundaries.”

Neteyam hummed in agreement but he didn’t understand anything. His mind was racing with questions, yet he didn’t have the answers. How come Tsireya did not know if you liked her brother? Were you into him? Even if you weren’t, wouldn’t you reciprocate the feelings of the future chief? Surely, Ao’nung wasn't the easiest person to be around, but he seemed different with you.

“Maybe you should ask her about it. You’re friends,” Tsireya nudged him.

Friends.

︵��︵‿︵‿︵

“You’re quiet,” you pointed out, as Neteyam dragged his feet after you, deep into the trees.

“I’m usually quiet,” he muttered.

“Not like this,” you disagreed, gauging for further clarification but Neteyam remained silent.

You did not know that there was a burning desire to confess his feelings to you raging in Neteyam’s mind. Despite Tsireya’s uncertainty the evening prior, Neteyam had already convinced himself that there was something going on between you and the future Olo'eyktan. So he felt rushed to tell you about your feelings, to prevent you from mating with Ao’nung.

But he couldn't help but wonder if he would truly be the best thing for you. What could he offer to you? He was a forest Na’vi, who did not know the way of water, who was useless in the sea. He was unfamiliar to your traditions, his whole life Neteyam prepared for leading the clan, but in Awa’atlu he had nothing to give.

To make matters worse, he found himself competing against the chief's son, someone you had grown up with and knew very well. And Neteyam could never replace that kind of relationship. Did you ever see him past your friendship, the way he saw you? The doubt and insecurity were consuming him from within.

“Is it because of my father?” you decided to guess, stopping in your tracks.

Neteyam walked past you, shaking his head. You pondered for a moment, before following him.

“Did my little brother break something when you let him play with your stuff the other day?”

Neteyam ignored your guess, holding back the big leaves in your way, waiting for you to catch up. He was deep in his thoughts, yet remained gentle and caring with you. Your gaze softened at the gesture.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He held your gaze without answering. That was it.

“What did I do?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong.”

“If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be tuning me out. I must have done something wrong,” you nudged his shoulder for a reply.

“I was just thinking…” he sighed, meeting your eyes, “Is it true about you and Ao’nung?”

“What about me and Ao’nung?”

“That you’re going to be mates.”

You snorted in disbelief. Although it was a topic of countless conversations with your father, who was eager to arrange a match between his daughter and the future Olo'eyktan, you were too stubborn to comply with your father’s wishes, instead of your own. You and Ao'nung had a strong friendship, sharing almost everything with each other, but it was just that. Friendship.

“That’s ridiculous, where’d you hear that?” you quirked your eyebrow at him.

“Rotxo.”

“It’s just a silly rumor that’s been going around since we were kids,” you rolled your eyes. You especially despised it a few years back, when people started teasing you for hampering other girls from pursuing Ao’nung.

“So you’re just friends?” Neteyam asked, his tone more hopeful.

“Just friends,” you confirmed, “He is like a brother to me.”

“I don’t think he sees you like a sister, Y/N.”

“Why do you care?” you teased him, “Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous of Ao’nung?” he scoffed.

“No reason,” you snickered, walking past him into the clearing.

Neteyam followed after you eagerly, his steps quickening to catch up. You tried to hide a devilish smirk, knowing that you'd pique his interest.

"What is it that Ao’nung has that I don't?"

"Let it go, Neteyam," you swatted at him with your hand. "I'm not going to compare my two friends to each other."

Neteyam pursed his lips, annoyed that he had to drop the subject. He knew that if he pushed too far, he'd be caught in his own trap, coming undone in front of you. There was something about you that made him feel exposed, and he was afraid that you would see right through him.

“Here it is,” you pointed at the spear on the ground. You had lost it the evening prior, and Neteyam was sure you dropped it around here.

“Told you,” he murmured, beating you to it and picking up the spear for himself.

“Thank Eywa,” you grinned at him, “Now let’s go back. If father sees you carrying my spear, he’ll be so annoyed!”

It was an innocent joke. The way you said it wasn’t mischievous, at least not towards Neteyam. You only enjoyed the irritation growing in your father, whenever he saw you spending time with the ‘demon-kid.’ In a strange way, you felt like you were fighting him back. But to Neteyam it was stressful to bear your father’s angry glances. He didn’t like pushing it.

“Is that all this friendship is to you?” his sudden insecurity caught you off guard.

“Huh?”

"Getting back at your father? Is that the only reason you hang out with me, just to piss him off?" his voice grew more accusatory.

“Where is this coming from?” you chuckled in disbelief, “Are you serious?”

“I am,” Neteyam gulped down, “Would you still spend time with me, if your father didn’t hate me so much? I can tell this is how you repay him for being harsh with you. But it’s unfair to me. You don’t get to use me as a tool of your rebellion, don’t get to play with my feelings like that.”

“Neteyam,” you exhaled, now speaking seriously, “I would never let him control my life to the point where he decides whom I befriend. I like spending time with you because of you. You’re very dear to me.”

Neteyam fell silent, doubts bouncing around in his golden eyes. You held his gaze, trying to convince him of the sincerity of your words.

“Do you believe me?”

“I guess,” he shook his head, “I just have a hard time believing anyone genuinely likes me.”

“What are you on about?” you neared him, “The whole village has grown fond of you. I mean, even Ao’nung… He used to fight with you, but now he’s hanging out with Lo’ak like nothing happened.”

“Exactly, he’s hanging out with Lo’ak, not me. He still doesn’t like me,” Neteyam said, his lips twitching with a hint of a smile.

“You dislike him,” you disagreed.

“Only because he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, he just…” you sighed, already regretting what you were about to reveal, “He just thinks that you’re stealing me from him.”

“Stealing you? Is he jealous or something?” an amused smile creeped onto Neteyam’s face.

“I guess. Ao’nung is possessive, you know, he doesn’t like to share.”

“Well then, I guess he’ll just have to deal with it.”

As Neteyam turned on his heels, his braids swayed around with a mind of their own. You watched him walk towards the village, gripping your spear, a slight spring in his step. You could already feel the punishment you’d get, once Neteyam uses this new information against Ao’nung.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, play nice,” you called out to Tuk and your little brother, as they were actively splashing water over each other.

While it was mostly playful, kids their age could easily get too competitive and excited. You propped yourself on your elbows, watching them play in the shallow water. After a fight with your dad, it was now your responsibility to watch Tewtxey whenever he played with Tuk. If it weren’t for your protests, your father wouldn’t even allow their friendship to flourish, so this was the only compromise that you managed to agree upon. You grinned as you watched how happy your brother was, his little giggles filling the air around you with a warm glow. It was in moments like these that you especially missed your mother. You wished she could be there to see her youngest making a friend.

“Babysitting duty?” a thick-accented voice called out, before Neteyam came into your view.

You rolled your eyes at him, earning a low chuckle. Neteyam sat next to you on the sand, his hand brushing past your thigh. You tried to ignore the flush in your cheeks.

“Is your father okay with this?” he pried, gesturing at the kids.

“As long as I keep an eye on them,” you replied with a sigh, “But don’t worry about it, it’s only temporary. My father will get over it.”

“How come?”

“Well, it’s hard not to like Tuk,” you turned your face to look at Neteyam, “And my father has a soft spot for kids. He’s not good with me, but he’s good with Tewtxey and his friends.”

“You think if you have Tuk around enough, he’ll warm up to her?” Neteyam guessed.

“Definitely,” you nodded, “It’d take some time but he’ll like her. She’s a good kid.”

“Okay,” Neteyam agreed, “What about me, though?”

“Hm? What about you?” you asked playfully, catching a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Do you have any ideas on how to get your father to warm up to me?"

“Why would I want that? It wouldn’t be as fun,” you teased him.

“Well, I could argue that it's best for your father to like his daughter's future mate, don't you agree?" Neteyam's voice was light-hearted and playful, yet your heart started racing in your chest.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“You heard me,” he chuckled.

He couldn’t help but feel satisfied with your reaction, it was certain to him that you might have felt something for him too. It was the first time Neteyam blatantly tested the waters for a sign, and you didn’t let him down. He turned his face to continue watching the kids, acting nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Ao’nung pushed you down, his arm firmly planted on your chest, while his other arm quickly snuck around your back to try and flip you over. You protested, pushing against his ribs, trapping his legs with your thighs. You were fake wrestling on the sand, both of you trying to get the upper hand.

“Just give up,” Ao’nung huffed, as you struggled against him.

“Never, skxawng,” you huffed back, determined to win the friendly match.

“Get off her!” a thick accent cut through the air, and you caught a glimpse of blue hands grabbing Ao’nung by the neck and pulling him off you.

In a matter of seconds, Neteyam attacked Ao’nung with a flurry of punches, one of them landing right on the confused boy’s cheekbone. Angrily, Ao’nung hit him back in the face, and before things could escalate further, you jumped in between the two with an angry hiss.

“Back off, both of you!”

“How dare you hit her?” Neteyam ignored you, trying to reach for Ao’nung.

“We were just playing, Neteyam, calm down,” you said, pushing him back slightly and taking a protective stance in front of Ao’nung.

“Who plays like that? You could’ve hurt her!” Neteyam growled.

“It is none of your business, anyway, skxawng,” Ao’nung stepped forward, looking him up and down.

“Ao’nung, stop,” you exhaled in frustration, then turned to Neteyam, “I’m okay, you didn’t have to protect me.”

“He thinks he has some sort of claim over you because he likes you,” Ao’nung let out a bitter chuckle, “She doesn’t need your useless ass guarding her.”

“What did you say?” Neteyam took an angry step towards him, but you quickly extended your arm to prevent him.

“Neteyam, stop,” you pleaded with him.

Neteyam hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and Ao'nung. He clenched his fists, his posture still tense, but he took a step back. His lip was bleeding.

“Let's all just go to Tsahik,” you said softly, turning towards Ao'nung, “Are you okay?”

Ao'nung nodded, wincing as you touched his swollen cheekbone. Before you could even grab Neteyam’s arm, to make him follow after you, he was already storming off, a sense of betrayal pitting in the bottom of his stomach.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“No matter how much your father scolds you, it is never enough,” Ronal tsked in disapproval, as she treated Ao’nung’s wounds.

“I told you, that skxawng attacked me first,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes at his mother, earning a low hiss from her.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” you explained, feeling the urge to justify Neteyam in front of the Tsahik, “He thought that you were hurting me.”

“Neteyam is a good boy,” Ronal stood up, signaling that she was done, “You’re nice to Lo’ak, you should be nice to him too”

“Lo’ak is still a kid, he can learn from me,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes, “But Neteyam is too arrogant.”

“Neteyam is not arrogant. In fact, the two of you have many similarities,” you added, earning a supportive nod from Ronal.

Ao’nung ignored you, as he thanked his mother and walked out of the marui. You couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving Neteyam untreated.

“Tsahik, do you think I could take some of that balm to Neteyam?” you asked hesitantly, “I’ll get it back to you as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time.”

You walked out, determined to find Neteyam, a bowl of white paste nestled gently in your hand. You were surprised to find Ao’nung lingering around the marui, kicking the rocks under his feet out of boredom.

“You should stop playing with him if you don’t want him to get the wrong idea,” he commented, acknowledging your presence.

“I’m not playing with anyone,” you frowned in response.

“Come on, Y/N,” Ao’nung looked up at you with a smug smile, “Surely, you can see that the boy is head over heels for you.”

“Who? Neteyam?” you were taken aback.

“Who else?”

“Nonsense, he sees me as a friend.”

“Whatever,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes at you in annoyance, “I’m just saying, you should tell him the truth. Whether you like him or not, he needs to know. I’m tired of him shooting daggers at me, whenever I talk to you.”

Did he really believe that Neteyam liked you? You could only hope that Ao’nung was right, that this was the only matter when you couldn’t see right through Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you reached Sully's marui, you spotted Tuk standing at the entrance, as if guarding someone. Upon catching sight of you, she ran up to you, grabbing your wrist.

“Y/N, Neteyam is hurt!” she exclaimed, “He won’t let me get mom to take care of him.”

“Is he alone?” you asked, following after her. She nodded, “Don’t worry, I’ll help him, okay?”

Tuk hung back at the entrance as you walked into the marui. Neteyam was sitting on the ground, shooting an annoyed look at his little sister. She quickly ran away, before he could even open his mouth.

“How come you never listen to me?” you started light-heartedly, approaching him.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you too busy taking care of Ao’nung?” he frowned at you.

You only shook your head, crouching down in front of him. He had wiped away the blood, but you could still see the cut on his wounded lip. It definitely stung when he spoke.

“I wanted you to come with us to Tsahik, why did you run away?”

“Didn’t want to interrupt your moment with him,” Neteyam answered through his gritted teeth.

You were confused by his sudden behavior. Sure, it might have been a little embarrassing to misinterpret the situation and react to it, but you wondered if there was something else bothering Neteyam. Was Ao’nung right? Without talking, you used one of his shoulders to rely on him, as you leaned in. Neteyam relaxed under your touch, letting you apply the medicine to his wounded lips without much protest. You let your finger graze over his face for a little longer before pulling away.

“Better?” you asked, earning a grateful nod.

As the sight of his bruised knuckles caught your attention, you immediately picked up his hand. He must have been furious, thinking he was protecting you from Ao’nung. Neteyam flinched, when you brought his hand closer to your face.

“Mawey,” you whispered, before placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

He watched you quietly, trying to calm his breathing. You weren’t sure what exactly you were doing, but it just felt right to comfort him this way. To show him that you weren’t betraying him, that you wanted him to be safe. When you turned his hand for further examination of wounds, your fingers grazed over the small cuts and calluses on his palms. You guessed they were from his training, and your heart swelled a little with admiration at the thought. It was a reminder of Neteyam's dedication and strength, the very same reason why you started seeing him in a different light. You looked up at him, your eyes conveying your unspoken admiration.

“Why are you upset with me?” you asked softly.

“Because you chose him over me,” he mumbled, his tone offended, yet he allowed you to hold his hand in yours.

“I wasn’t choosing anyone. It wasn’t about picking sides.”

“But you did,” he shook his head, “Whether you admit it or not, your first instinct was to protect him.”

“You attacked him first, Neteyam. I was only defending my friend,” you tried to break through his stubbornness.

“I am your friend too,” he pursed his lips again.

"Well, I kind of hoped that you were more than just a friend," you exhaled, letting go of his hand.

Neteyam's mouth hung open in shock, and you wondered if he had picked up on the double meaning in your words.

"I don't understand," he sat up straight, his gaze fixed on you, "Are you saying that you don't want us to be just friends?"

"Yes,” you felt a wave of frustration washing over you, “You can be so dense sometimes. Has it ever occurred to you that I like you?”

Neteyam's face lit up with a smile, and he reached out to cup your face in his hands.

"I could only hope for you to feel that way," he said, his eyes shining with pure happiness, “Oel ngati kameie, Y/N.”

“Oel ngati kameie,” you whispered, feeling tears of joy welling up in your eyes.

You had never cried out of happiness before, but in that moment, knowing that Neteyam truly saw you, the real you, and loved you for it, you couldn't help it. Neteyam let out a confused chuckle, but quickly gathered you into his arms, holding you close and comforting you, as you cried onto his chest.

“I didn’t want to make you cry, silly,” he whispered softly into your hair, amusement evident in his voice.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

forgot that i had a taglist :'( i hope you guys still get the notification

@bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @jakes-babygirl @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @mechformers @lovedbychoi @netemoon @avatarbyamara @live-laugh-neteyam @lovedbychoi @jakesullylongjuiscyshlong

2K notes · View notes

simpforboys · 1 year

Note

i think the population needs dilf era neteyam

au where he’s been appointed clan leader recently, and he’s like super massive now.

he comes home tired where his perfect childhood to lovers mate and son is waiting for him. and he decides he wants more

size kink/both of them having breeding kink 💀/dom neteee

sempu

sempu: daddy, dad

olo’eyktan!neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: coming back from a hunting party, neteyam can’t help himself when he sees you with your son

warnings: smut!! breeding kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, piv sex, fingering, fluff ending, dom!neteyam, creampie, this is basically just shameless smut

aged up!neteyam. if you don’t like it, don’t interact with my writing.

neteyam’s eyes were threatening to close as he landed his green ikran.

he jumped off the banshee, disconnecting their queues as he pet the animal’s nose, dismissing the animal.

with neteyam being the new olo’eyktan, he was a bit stressed with all the new responsibilities.

especially since his brother didn’t make it any better.

“that was so cool!” lo’ak pat his brother’s shoulder, neteyam tiredly walking to where your tent was.

all he wanted to do was return back to you, his tsahìk, the love of his life.

neteyam rubbed his eyes as his braids swayed.

“goodnight, lo’ak.” neteyam dismissed his brother as he opened the door to your tent.

your back was facing the entrance as your tail gently swayed. you were humming a tune, bouncing your thigh gently.

neteyam placed his big hands on your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

he could now see you were breastfeeding your son, rukan. you leaned your head back, pushing your lips forward to signal you want a proper kiss from your mate.

neteyam pressed his lips to yours, feeling you smile against him. he pulled away within seconds, taking off his stomach wrap and necklace.

“how was the hunt, teyam?” you asked.

neteyam moved to sit next to you, rukan grabbing his dad’s finger in his small hand.

“it was okay- nothing too good but nothing too bad.”

neteyam’s eyes began to trace your motherly frame. during your pregnancy your hips grew fuller, arms thicker, and legs bigger.

with rukan being seven months old, you had mostly worried about taking care of your child rather than losing the extra weight, even though you were still pretty slim.

his eyes bulged as he saw your bare breasts. he’s seen them many times before, but they were bigger now. your nipples were larger, being able to give your child the nutrients he needed.

neteyam loved your body. loved how it pleased him, your baby, and most of all, yourself. you were truly the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and it was always like that.

meeting at six years old, you two instantly clicked. mo’at instantly knew you were going to be tsahìk one day and took you under her wing.

you got along with the entire sully family, and neytiri would make bets with jake when you two would finally confess.

“are you done staring at my tits?” you smirked, seeing the growing bulge in your mate’s loincloth.

“i was not staring-“ he went to roll his eyes, his body flinching as you took your free hand and rubbed it gently across his inner thigh.

you traced the light lines that coated his body, goosebumps covering his skin.

“then what is this, hm?” you hummed, your finger softly grazing against his loincloth.

“y/n-“ he panted out, looking down at his sleeping son.

“put him in the bassinet, teyam.” you handed your son off to your mate, watching his tall frame gently put your baby in his woven crib.

his shoulders were broad as he stood at his full height, 8’10. his tail was wagging as you teasingly twirled it in your hand, causing your husband to let out a low growl.

“such a tease, hmm?” he hummed, now facing you.

you smirked up at him, leaning back on your hands as he hovered over you. his lips pressed harshly against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

he connected his lips to yours once more, gently biting your bottom lip with his fangs. you pushed your hips up into his, desperate to get some friction.

“you’re gonna have to be quiet f’me, okay?” he told you, one of his hands holding him up as the other skillfully untied your loincloth.

you nodded, looking directly into your mate’s eyes as he teasingly ran his fingers across your pussy. he lifted his fingers, smirking when he saw how wet you were for him.

“all this for me, pretty girl?” his question was rhetorical as he brought his fingers to your lips.

you sucked on them, wishing he would touch you. he spread your knees out wider, leaving your drenched pussy exposed to him and him only.

once satisfied, he took his fingers out of your mouth and stuck them in your throbbing pussy.

you gasped out as neteyam put his hand against your mouth, looking at your son to see if he had woken.

his fingers were a brutal pace as he fucked them in and out of you, your hot breath fanning against his hand with every movement.

he put his mouth on your left nipple, sucking it delicately as it was sensitive. you were panting against his hand, pushing his head further into your chest.

your belly was tightening and you arched your back, desperate for an orgasm.

you and neteyam hadn’t had sex since before his ceremony. your pussy was tight against his fingers, the wetness allowing him to use them quickly.

“neteyam,” you gasped out, eyes rolling back to your head as you arched your back.

"c'mon, my girl." he was practically pleading for you to cum, desperate to stick his own cock in your pussy.

he felt you clenching against his fingers as he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit. he kissed you as you came, using his mouth to muffle your moans.

you recovered within seconds, your sex drive high as you began to palm at his aching cock. he began to thrust into your hand, the pleasure too good.

he finally regained himself and lifted up your leg, his cock driving itself into your pussy from the side. his face was next to yours as he nipped on your neck and collar bone, creating bite marks and hickies that would surely last for a few days.

you were fighting the urge to scream your mate's name. it didn't help when he brought his hand down to your clit, matching the rubs with his harsh thrusts.

"takin my cock so good, baby."

he was whispering filthy words into your ear, his hot breath making your skin erupt in goosebumps.

"gonna put another fucking baby in you, huh? you want that?"

you nodded quickly, too fucked out to respond properly. the pleasure was amazing, your husband hitting your cervix and rubbing your clit deliciously.

"yes, sempu (daddy). give us another baby." you mewled, your head resting on his broad shoulder as his hips snapped against yours.

he purred against your neck, biting thickly into your neck causing you to accidentally moan out.

"be a good girl and stay quiet," he snapped.

you covered your mouth with your hand, tears forming in your pretty eyes. he was kissing your cheek, his stomach and balls tightening.

"so fucking naughty... letting me fuck you dumb with our son next to us. he's gonna get a sibling soon with how good your pussy feels."

"daddy, i'm gonna cum..." you whimpered quietly.

"who's this cunt belong to?" he asked another rhetorical question.

"you! fuck neteyam, let me cum." you whined, your tail wrapping itself around his muscular thigh.

"come on, baby."

neteyam used his big hand to cover your mouth again, your pussy clenching around his big cock as you came. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, ears pointed downwards, with your body shaking.

you always looked so pretty when you came, and the feeling of you tightening around his dick sent him over the edge.

his cum painted your walls, shooting up into your cervix. he sank his teeth into your shoulder, quieting his whimpers.

"so good, so good." you praised your mate, pressing kisses to his jaw. his eyes were closed, head down, ears down as he came.

when he finally relaxed, he slipped his cock out of you. he took his fingers, watching the way his cum tried to spill out of your cunt. he pushed it back inside, your body too fucked out to care.

"mine." he said, mostly to himself.

you didn't respond, letting your husband clean himself and you up. he then checked on your son, the baby sleeping calmly in the crib.

"can't wait to have five."

"five?" you laughed, watching him lay down onto the little bed you two had set up. his head laid against your bare chest, big, strong arms wrapping around you.

"five is being generous. with how gorgeous my wife is, i say we can have at least ten."

you grinned, shaking your head at him as you pressed a kiss to his forehead. he purred against you, already half asleep.

only you got to see him like this, soft and gentle. with the clan, he was olo’eyktan, a strong warrior. but with you and his family, he was more relaxed. he was too hard on himself, wanting to live up to his father's legacy, toruk makto. but you would always reassure him that he was neteyam, not jake sully, and neteyam sully was the best man out there.

"nga yawne lu oer (i love you).”

"nga yawne lu oer, ma neteyam."

#simpforboys #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully smut #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam smut #avatar 2022 #avatar way of water #avatar neteyam

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project-sonadow · 4 months

Text

Fate?

Summary: Sonic never cared about soulmates, but in a world where everyone had a red string of fate wrapped around their finger, Sonic decided to wear gloves.

Read the rest below!

To put it bluntly, Sonic had never cared about soulmates.

He wasn’t exactly unique in this mindset. In this modern day and era, it was only slightly progressive to spend your entire life without ever meeting your other half, let alone devoting your life to them. Radical ideas, such as platonic soulmates, familial soulmates, or even soulmates being bad if you ended up paired with the wrong person were common talking points in the general public and media. That red string of fate which had governed entire lives in the past no longer seemed critical to most people.

Sonic didn’t care about any of that either. In fact, until he started hanging around populated human areas more often, he didn’t realize there was so much controversy about it. He always lived how he wanted, paying barely any attention to the subject.

Sonic’s friends all had very different opinions about soulmates.

Tails was kind of like him, in that he didn’t care about the red string encircling his pinkie and leading to a far-off point in the distance- or, at least, he pretended not to. Amy had been heartbroken that she and Sonic weren’t soulmates, before deciding to prove to Sonic and the world that true love couldn’t be predetermined by fate (her words, not his). Knuckles didn’t want to leave his duty for long enough to find his soulmate, and had admitted to Sonic once that he felt bad for whoever his soulmate was. Cream was excited to find her soulmate when she got older, but wasn’t under any illusion that it was a requirement for happiness in life, considering that her own mother was forever trailed by her own cut string, dragging limply on the ground, and seemed just fine despite that. Blaze and Silver both viewed it as a luxury that they couldn’t indulge in (ironic, because their shared red string of fate was apparently strong enough to cross through time and dimensions). Vector didn’t care about it at all, considering that he had his eyes set on Vanilla. Espio thought it would get in the way of his “duties as a ninja”, whatever that meant. Charmy just didn’t like the idea of relationships in general. Rouge hated the concept in general, Shadow refused to talk about it, and Omega said he would refuse to accept his soulmate unless they were willing to help him destroy Eggman. Big had a gentle kind of apathy towards his string. Whisper didn’t talk much about the subject to begin with, and considering that she wore blocker gloves 24/7 people didn’t ask her about it.

Tangle…

Well, it seemed like she was trying very hard to convince herself that she didn’t care about the idea of never finding her soulmate.

“I just don’t get why everyone thinks it’s such a big deal, y’know. Like it’s great if you do find your soulmate, and in a tiny village like mine half the soulmates are paired up before they’re teenagers, but it’s not like you need to do it! My moms aren’t soulmates and they’re doing just fine!”

Tangle’s moms were currently divorced and trying to rekindle their relationship, but Sonic decided not to bring that up.

“And then we have to throw a huge stupid party everytime someone comes back from vacation with their soulmate in tow, and I just. Ugh. We all make such a big deal out of getting to choose how to live our own lives, but we’re all born with this stupid string around our pinkies and told to go off and find the other end. It’s so annoying.”

This probably wasn’t what was actually bothering her, Sonic thought. It was probably the fact that one day her string had stopped moving by itself, only responding to Tangle’s own body, and currently led to a forest in the middle of nowhere with nobody at the other end. It was probably the fact that her soulmate had apparently been the type of person to try on a pair of blocker gloves one day and then never take them off.

Sonic thought about Whisper. About the blocker gloves she never took off, the way she started fiddling with them whenever Tangle was around. The way she looked so anxious whenever Tangle grabbed her by the hand and started running, like she was scared Tangle would pull the glove clean off. The way Tangle and Whisper looked at each other, in general.

Like always, he wondered if he should tell Tangle what he thought.

Like always, he decided against it.

“If you want a huge stupid party, I can always just throw you one, soulmate or no soulmate,” he said instead. “Hell, if you really want, we could pretend that we’re soulmates just to rub it in your town’s face.”

Tangle fake-gagged, and Sonic took fake-offense to that.

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Celebrity,” she said, and Sonic drew himself back a little, spines involuntarily bristling. “Whenever people talk about soulmates you just roll your eyes and say some shit about ‘living free’ and ‘going with the flow’. Do you really not want to find your soulmate? It would be easy for you.”

Sonic rolled his eyes, and then instantly realized what he had done when Tangle started laughing at him. He hastily cleared his throat. “Don’t know if there’s anyone who would be able to keep up with me.”

“I know at least three people who can go about as fast as you can,” Tangle said, punching his shoulder lightly. “C’mon, if you really didn’t care that much you wouldn’t wear those stupid blocker gloves all the time.”

Oh, so she had noticed. “Eh, I mostly wear these because I tend to get mobbed by crazy fangirls if I don’t. If I make it obvious I’m not really available then most people won’t attempt to tell me that they’re totally different from the hundreds of other people who have been convinced we’re meant to be over the years.”

Tangle narrowed her eyes at that. “Crazy fangirls? Like Amy?”

“Crazier.”

“Wow, scary,” Tangle said, and then moved on to talking about how her own friends had set up a Sonic fanclub once, and the conversation moved on from there, and Sonic was glad he didn’t have to talk about it anymore.

So yeah, Sonic wore blocker gloves, and yeah, it was so he wouldn’t be harassed about the subject whenever he showed his face in public, or when journalists ambushed him on the streets, or people edited photos of him to make it seem like he had a thin red line coming down from his pinkie and leading to some stranger in the photo. It was convenient. It was easy.

It was even mostly the truth.

Sonic knew a couple other people who wore blocker gloves- Blaze studiously kept hers on to keep up a vaguely professional air, even when her cheeks flamed fire-red every single time Silver so much as existed in her general vicinity, Espio had his on so the string couldn’t get in the way of his “duties as a ninja” (seriously, what the hell did that mean), Vector occasionally wore them on the job and had made half-hearted attempts to get a pair for Charmy, which kept on being mysteriously lost. Rouge and Shadow both wore a pair, presumably because of their super-secret spy jobs that Sonic wasn’t supposed to know about (glowing red strings which could phase through any solid object would probably make hiding difficult, he figured), and Omega had found a way to simply turn his string off, somehow, which was more impressive and terrifying than anything else Sonic had seen him do.

The only person Sonic knew who steadfastly refused to wear blocker gloves was Vanilla, despite the troubles she sometimes saw because of them. She was a single mother whose string had been cut by an untimely death, and she didn’t care who knew it. She lived each day of her life with a bright, happy, genuine smile on her face.

She was, so far, one of the only people who had ever seen Sonic with his gloves off. The only other person besides Tails, actually, who built his gloves in the first place. And the only person who hadn’t said a word to him about the subject, just cleaned the cut he had gotten on his palm and told him to keep himself safe.

He was grateful to her for that.

Rouge was Vanilla’s polar opposite, in regards to the string. She not only hid her string, she made a show of hiding it, commissioning custom blocker gloves and shoving the subject right back in the face of any poor soul who dared to question her about it. She had a million and one excuses for why she didn’t want to find her soulmate, all of them tiptoeing around the truth and never once touching on the actual reason why. She bragged about being able to date anyone she wanted even without showing her string off. She complained about not wanting to be tied down. She whined about how annoying societal expectations were. She crowed about the amount of people who desperately wanted to be her soulmate.

Sonic saw through all of this as the extravagant bullshit that it was, but he really had no idea what the actual reason was. Didn’t really care either. It wasn’t like she brought the subject up an annoying amount either, she was far more likely to yammer on for hours about her one and only actual love (jewels) than she was to start talking about literally any other subject (and if he could put up with the jewel talk, then he could put up with anything).

It was just that sometimes when they hung out, people would get the wrong idea about them. Sonic and one of his friends (a woman at that), both with blocker gloves, spending time together, alone? It was apparently unthinkable to some that they could just be friends. So they both made a big joke out of it, Rouge flaunting how untouchable she was and Sonic pretending to be heartbroken. It made for some hilarious think pieces about how Sonic was a bad role model, at the very least.

Still, he didn’t want to deal with all of that every time they hung out, which was why Rouge had dragged Shadow along with them this time, mentioning that he owed her for something.

So here they were, sequestered away in a tiny café, Rouge and Sonic talking about everything and nothing, while Shadow was also there, sipping delicately at his tea while Sonic chugged his large chocolate milkshake and Rouge got whipped cream from her hot chocolate all over her face.

Good times.

For once, the general populace seemed content to ignore them, at least for now, so the conversation went wherever it wanted to, Sonic and Rouge loud and energetic, Shadow quiet and solemn (despite the fact that there was nothing to be solemn about).

At least, nothing until Rouge spilled hot chocolate all over her glove.

“Ohgoddamnitshit,” Rouge said, all in one breath, dabbing at the stain on her very expensive glove with a napkin, a small frown on her face, before it turned into an outright scowl. “Oh come on-”

She shifted her wrist, and Sonic saw what had bothered her so much. Some of the liquid must have gotten into some of the actual electronics in the glove and messed with it, because Sonic could now see Rouge’s string. Rouge’s cut string.

Rouge groaned, and then shoved her hand under the table, her head in her other hand. “Not. A. Word.”

She said it lightly, like Sonic and Shadow had just seen her do something embarrassing instead of accidentally revealing that her supposed other half was dead and buried, but Sonic could hear the threat in her tone, and he wasn’t going to tell anyone about it anyway. He mimed sealing his lips shut, Shadow just gave her a terse nod, and before either of them could do anything Rouge had thrown some cash onto the table and ran out the front door, presumably to go home, get a new pair of blocker gloves, and hide her face from them for at least a couple months.

Sonic put his chocolate shake down on the table. He had a feeling it wouldn’t taste anywhere near as good as it did a second ago.

“I know Rouge already said as much, but if you tell anyone else about that, you’ll regret it,” Shadow said, the threat in his far less concealed than Rouge’s had been.

“I won’t, jeez,” Sonic said. “I’m not an asshole. And I don’t care about soulmates either.”

Shadow just raised an eyebrow at him, and Sonic glared back half-heartedly. “Those gloves serve a purpose, Sonic.”

“I only wear these because I’m a celebrity for some reason, and people think that makes it okay to pry into every detail of my life.”

“‘For some reason’,” Shadow said, mostly to himself, sounding incredulous. “That can’t seriously be the only reason you wear them.”

Well, it wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to tell Shadow that. Especially when he had no idea what the other hedgehog thought about soulmates beyond just a general unwillingness to speak about the topic. He was born over 50 years ago and raised by a bunch of uptight scientists in literal outer space, so Sonic was curious if he had any different opinions from the general crowd he hung out with.

Shadow didn’t seem willing to share, so Sonic decided to push the issue. Just a bit. “Why do you wear blocker gloves?”

Shadow’s lips curled in a vaguely unpleasant way. “I don’t want to find my soulmate. That’s all.”

Well, that was an unsurprising and boring answer. “Okay, but what would you do if you met your soulmate and fell head-over-heels in love with them? Or if you’ve already met your soulmate, but didn’t know because of the gloves?”

“I wouldn’t fall in love with anyone. And I’m not even slightly concerned about the second possibility. There is nobody in my life who I would want to become my life partner.”

Sonic pouted at him, and something in his chest hurt, just a bit. “Nobody? Not even little old me?”

Shadow’s expression flickered, before it hardened again. “I hope, for your sake, that what you just said was a joke. I’m an immortal being, Sonic. My string will end up cut, at some point or another.”

“Hmm. Good point,” Sonic said. “Well, unless your soulmate is Omega, I guess.”

Shadow choked on his drink, and Sonic couldn’t help but grin like a maniac even as Shadow glared at him (it was less scary than normal, with tea dripping out of his mouth and into his chest fluff. He looked adorable. Sonic tried not to think about the fact that he thought Shadow was adorable).

Sonic decided against talking about it anymore for his own health (Shadow had proved he was more than willing to suplex Sonic through a table if he annoyed him too much), so instead he just waited for Shadow to finish his tea before handing him some gold rings to pay for the half-drunken milkshake. Shadow glared at the rings like they offended him. “They don’t accept those as payment in human establishments.”

“My mistake,” Sonic said cheekily. “Guess I’m dining and dashing. The next date will be my treat.”

And then he dashed before Shadow could actually suplex him through the table.

Sonic didn’t leave the city when he left the café, instead opting to nap on the nearest rooftop before night fell. Whenever he visited the big cities he always made sure to stay off the streets themselves. With so many people all locked into one tiny area, the red strings, thin and frail as they were, became far too many, all at once, hundreds and thousands and millions of them all crisscrossing their way across every visible surface, choking his view and making it impossible to run unless he wanted to be half-blind. So he stuck to the rooftops, and waited for night so he could at least get a good view for his trouble.

At night, the streets of every city lit up, suffused with a red glow, invisible during the day but radiant when the sun went down. The strings varied in size, thickness, length, how strong they were, how much they were moving, but every single one of them, collectively, bound people together in the most literal way possible. If you had a soulmate, it was impossible to get rid of your string. It would remain there until the day you died, so most people still said it was better to try and use it, to find happiness with your other half.

Sonic didn’t put much stock in that idea. Or in the idea of other halves existing in the first place. Some of his friends called him an idealist for thinking so, but he had always believed that people were complete by themselves, and that finding someone else made them something more than just themselves.

Shadow would probably call him an idealist for that, too. Even if he had a sneaking suspicion it was something close to what the other hedgehog thought.

Or maybe Shadow would just call him stupid.

High on his chosen perch, Sonic surveyed the glove on his right hand. Tails had made it for him. It was mostly pure white, just like his old gloves, but with a thin ring of silver at the bottom which made its purpose obvious. It looked professionally made. To everyone except him and Tails, it even looked like it worked.

When he removed it, his hands were bare, free from any string. He never had one in the past, and would probably never have one in the future. Sonic had learned a long time ago how people reacted when they realized he didn’t have a soulmate, and decided he hated it even back then. The gloves were a convenience, a way for him to avoid explaining himself, a preventative measure to stop everyone from looking at him like he was broken.

Because Sonic wasn’t broken. He only needed himself, so even if fate said he was doomed to be alone he was perfectly fine with that.

Sonic thought back to Shadow, in the café.

Well, there was a reason he had never put much stock in fate, either.

#project writes #sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog

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writteninlunarlight-years · 1 month

Note

could you do some headcanons of the obey me characters with a cat hybrid S/O?

You got it, Anon. Thank you for the request! I decided to be different than some other Obey Me! Writers and I will start from the bottom of the brothers and work to the top. Then add our extra interests~ I WILL NOT INCLUDE LUKE IN THIS. IDC, IF HE IS AN ANCIENT ANGEL, HE IS PORTRAYED AS A CHILD; THEREFORE, HE IS A CHILD IN MY EYES By the way, if you haven't seen my Obey Me response that I answered a few weeks ago, I don't know anything about Rapeheal or Methostopoliese because I haven't progressed far in the original Obey Me or played the new Nightbringer Obey Me!

~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~

Obey Me! Brothers x Neko!Reader

Belphegor

Belphie was never a fan of cats or dogs. He preferred cows or bulls. Big animals could do whatever they wanted because they were big.

However, cat naps were something he related to, the ability to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere.

That day, though, when he first met you, he couldn't take his eyes off your Purple ears or tail.

He could read your emotions almost clearly as day, even if your face was stoic. Your ears or tail would always give you away.

You entranced him even more when he was freed and allowed back out with the family again.

One night, when you all were watching a movie together, he chose to curl up on the side of the couch next to you. When he arose, your pretty tail was languidly swaying on top of him.

The day you allowed him to touch your tail or ears was quite eventful. You explained to him how sensitive they were; of course, you never let someone you had a crush on touch your ears or tail.

Imagine the shock on both your faces when you purred so loudly that people down the hall heard you. Let's just say he was so disappointed when you avoided him for the rest of the week.

Whenever you two would nap from the day you got together, he never let you go; your head rested on his chest, and your tail wrapped gently around his waist.

Beelzebub

Beel didn't really have a favorite animal; they all kind of just digested down to food in the end. If he had to pick one, though, he definitely would choose a mouse. Maybe they weren't strong, but they were really good at evading him.

Beel loved food more than anything so a quick bite was all on his mind till you came along.

When you came to the house with your Orange tail and ears he was smitten, like a kitten. ( I love puns okay)

You were super emotional, and he never knew how to help until one day, he gave you some of his food.

Like him, your anger, sadness, frustration, happiness, and all emotions were cured with yummy food.

Beel began to monitor your reaction to food and how your ears would move around to the noises of sizzling or popping. Or how your tail would swish or wriggle when you had a particular meal.

Soon, Beel became more concerned about what food to get and what to give you to see your cute emotions over his hunger.

Beel also loved to take you to work out with him. You were powerful and unique at climbing. You could do some of the more advanced level climbing boards that he was not even a pro at.

When you two finally got together, Beel made it a habit to take you out to eat before a workout, then have you and him race on an obstacle course, only to end the night with more food and cuddles.

Asmodeus

Asmo really loved Bunnies. I mean, come on, they were so cute and adorable. They had perfect pink noses and beautiful coats of fur, and a bonus was that they weren't loud or obnoxious.

However, he made an exception to his animal choices when you came around.

Your Pink tail and ears were the icing on the cake, matching your cute gestures and aesthetics.

Asmo couldn't wait to dress you up and make you the object of others' desires, especially his.

You spent most of your days in his room, trying on clothes and being measured for new outfits to accentuate your cat-like features.

The one-time Asmo got too close to your tail while measuring you interested him. You wrapped your tail around his arm without realizing it, only for him to point it out and you to run away.

From then on, Asmo was cautious until you let him touch your cat-like appendages.

Once you two finally got together, the outfits became less cute, and Kawai, as Levi would put it, they became more lustful and sexy.

Asmo enjoyed showing you off to everyone and letting them all know you were his beautiful kitty.

His new favorite accessory when you would accompany him to fashion shows or influencer events was your pretty tail wrapped around his wrist just like before.

Satan

Satan loved cats. They were perfect creatures—big cats, small cats, kittens—all cats were amazing.

When you came to the house, he had a hard time keeping his distance. Due to this, he became very angry and wrathful all the time.

You had gorgeous Green ears and a fluffy tail. He was in love at first sight. He was so mad at himself and then, in turn, you.

It wasn't until he finally started to accept you that he saw your ears upright and your tail not rigid.

Once you two found common ground in reading and writing, he often had you in his library.

You two would share book suggestions, and he could always tell how well you liked the literature he offered based on how your ears or tail would move.

Due to his extensive knowledge of cats, he tried to go waaaaaay too overboard on impressing you.

You had to remind him you are still human, so eating raw mice wasn't your go-to.

However, the day he pulled out a red laser pointer, you were hooked, and even while you were trying to be mad at him for abusing your cat-like mind, you couldn't help but play chase.

When you two finally got together, you could be found lying on his lap with your head on his shoulder, getting the best pets while Satan was content with the world for once.

Leviathan

Levi was obsessed with snakes. He had many of them throughout his life and was very fond of them.

When you came to the house, not only did he find a passion for cats, but he also had all his Otaku dreams fulfilled.

You were every anime boy's wet dream, and especially Levi's. He could only imagine how your soft Blue ears and tail felt.

Levi was always very shy, so it took a long time before he approached you. Though you were less shy than him, you also had your reservations.

The night you two finally bonded, you were talking to Mammon about going to a convention in town.

Due to your appearance, you thought you could make some quick money and enjoy meeting some artists you had grown to like.

Levi begged Mammon to let him go in his place, leaving you two to enjoy the con.

Levi was enamored with your cute maid outfit that perfectly matched your tail and ears.

When the con ended, he found out you two had a lot in common, so most afternoons from then on were spent in his room playing games and watching anime.

While looking for his controller one night, he accidentally grabbed your tail, which really upset you.

He spent all week apologizing and buying you figurines to make it up to you for invading your space.

When you two finally got together, he always loved it when you took his body pillows place and slept with him in his tub.

Mammon

Mammon preferred money over anything but an expensive animal that would look cool now he could get behind that. He always thought the pet monkeys celebs had were hot and wanted one.

When you come to the Devildom, and became his problem, he realized why his younger brother is obsessed with cats.

Your Yellow ears and tail were fascinating and honestly hot af.

He wanted to touch them so badly the man was greedy to see what would happen.

When he touched your ears, he realized how elegant you were. Though you showed disinterest in the touch, you held your ground with him.

Soon, Mammon witnessed your spending habits; you were one boujee kitty.

As a joke, Mammon bought you a real gold bell to wear with one of his yellow ties, which he fashioned into a collar. He never expected you to actually wear it or keep it.

The man was hooked from then on and did everything in his power to make you love him.

You had him spending all the money on Goldie and all his payback on you to gain your love.

You two were on the prowl when you finally caved in and accepted Mammon's desires.

While you swindled money from people with your looks and poise, he was spending the money on you two.

You two were the hottest cats in town.

Lucifer

Lucifer was a dog person through and through. They were trainable, obedient, and loyal. He didn't want any other animal because none would ever follow as directly as a dog would.

He was apprehensive when he heard from Dia about your appearance in the Devildom. A half-cat half-human would not be controllable and only cause him more headaches.

When he finally met you, he was taken aback by your elegant beauty. Your Black ears and tail suited your regal face.

He still didn't like cats, but he could get behind in liking you over time if you proved yourself.

You were bold and strong. You stood up for yourself and others. You could take no for an answer but make things work your way.

Lucifer was getting hooked, and it was terrible. He needed control.

When you two were alone, he slowly started implementing rules and guidelines. You always followed them, well, to an extent.

Lucifer found your boldness to disobey him at times almost thrilling. You showed no fear and no hesitance.

When Lucifer finally accepted his feelings for you and went to confess, you already beat him to the punch. You took control of him and planned the dates and events.

Once officially dating Lucifer only found peace when you were with him, you were intelligent, cunning, and a go getter. You also were very cooperative about getting him to take a break. Why would he give up a chance to have you resting against him while he got to pet your head?

Barbatos

Barbatos was very fond of birds. He often found them beautiful in their patterns and voices when he went on errands for Dia.

When you came to the Devildom, he was mildly put off by you. He figured you would eat the birds he was so fond of.

Course, he couldn't lie; the Gray fur of your tail and ears was attractive.

Over time, Barbatos grew used to your presence with the brothers. You posed no real threat or harm to the things he enjoyed.

He liked how aloof you were. You kept to yourself day in and day out, giving him time to deal with other matters.

However, over time, he grew worried about you. Yes, you communicated with others when needed, but you looked lonely.

Barbatos made the first contact, inviting you to assist him with cooking, which you were exceptionally skilled.

Soon, he invited you on errands through the realms, and you also assisted him with Dia's antics.

As you grew warmer with him and showed him more emotions, he couldn't help but grow attached to you lovingly.

One night, while on the castle's balcony, he finally asked you if he could touch your extra appendages. He was curious if, like demons, they were sensitive too.

When you allowed him, he felt very connected to you. Before him, another person who was withdrawn from society and was only close to those deemed worthy.

Barbatos, not too long after, asked you out, and soon you two were inseparable.

You made his life more manageable, and if he ever got too overwhelmed, you were wrapping your tail around some part of him to remind him you two have got this.

Diaovlo

Diaovlo related hardest to a Hedgehog, he was pokey in the eyes of others, being the big boss of hell, but he was also warm and kind on the inside once you actually met him.

People were afraid to get close to him except for the few who knew him from the get-go; being a royal can be pretty lonely.

When you came to the Devildon, Dia was enamored by all the outsiders, but you particularly struck him.

Your Red ears and tail looked nothing like he had seen before. You definitely were special.

Dia fell for you from the sidelines as you studied and learned, grew with the brothers, and helped them bond.

When you officially met Dia outside of school, he had already learned all your tail and ear patterns. He knew upon your arrival in his home you were nervous.

Realizing your apprehension about being there, he was saddened by your worries and nerves. You expected him to be some giant mean demon.

When you reached out to Dia to ask him why he was so down, he was honestly touched. He was great at putting on a mask, so how did you know?

When you explained to Dia you weren't afraid of him but of someone breaking something in his home, he was relieved and taken aback.

That night, Dia laughed a full laugh. He found someone truly unafraid of him.

Dia often invited you around the castle, showing you ancient texts and helping you with your studies.

When you finally admitted your feelings to one another, it was soft and gentle. The only time any fangs were bared was whenever you or he heard someone talking bad to one of you two.

Solomon

Solomon loved goats, not only because they were perfect for his witchcraft but also because they were just so darn adorable before they got big.

For some reason, there weren't many animals to really use as sacrifices, and cats—well, they were pretty sacred creatures.

When Solomon met you during the program, he was enamored. You were beautiful, with gorgeous Creme-colored ears and tail. You looked ethereal.

Solomon made it his goal to get to know the human anomaly. He had heard of nekotism but only from spell casting, not from birth.

He was interested in your past, present, and future. He took on an extra workload next to school to research your condition.

When you caught him in the middle of research one day, you weren't offended like he thought you would be. Instead, you just laughed and offered to answer any questions he had.

He was internally grateful and began researching with you by his side.

What was initially learning about you soon became you two learning spells and other crafts together.

Each day, Solomon felt closer and closer to you, like he could finally open up more about himself.

One day, while working on a project together, you grew frustrated. Solomon was in awe when you openly asked him to play with your ears and tail to help you relax.

When Solomon worked up the courage to ask you out, he was pleasantly surprised to find you in your shared study spot working on an elaborate potion to spew out the words "let's go out."

Once official, you two worked hard to learn more about each realm and all it had to offer. You two never left each other's side.

Simeon

Simeon loved foxes. They were such cute, cunning creatures. Foxes are eager to get their little jobs done and protect their young.

When Simeon goes to Hell to learn more about demons and sees his fallen brethren, he is soon distracted by a cute little cat girl.

When he met you, he was obsessed with your Brown ears and tail and asked you over and over how this anomaly came to be.

While he constantly called you out to ask about your condition, he was pleasantly surprised by how caring and calm you were with Luke.

You looked like a mother, a beautiful, graceful, angelic mother. He was so in love but didn't know what love indeed was.

Simeon soon learned about your hobbies and activities. For example, when he discovered that you liked to climb high places, he would help you find the tallest trees.

Simeon loved to cook for you to ensure you were full and happy; seeing your tail swish just mesmerized him.

Over time, Simeon began asking the brothers about his plight whenever he was with you. You sparked so many feelings in him, but to love you would be wrong.

Eventually with encouragement from others Simeon caved in and one moon lit night while you two lounged on the grass him caressing your ears he finally confessed.

Once officially dating, Simeon found any excuse to visit you in Hell. From bringing paperwork to Dia to checking on the brothers for Micahel to even just saying he wanted to see more of what Hell had changed, he was down there with you.

116 notes · View notes

butididntpourthewhiskeys · 3 months

Text

CITYBOUND III

TW: sexual references 🚨

With her face in the sun, Taylor closes her eyes, feels the warm sensation hit her skin. A siren goes off, only a few feet away. The usual car honking that always reminds her exactly where she lives, also doesn’t stop. But it won’t end this peaceful moment. The first rays of sunshine in New York City this year. The first time she’s on the rooftop this year. Eleanor’s little voice from afar, playing by herself. In her winter puff jacket and with her sunglasses on her nose, she opens her eyes again now, looking at the blonde toddler sitting on the wooden patio floor only a few feet away from her. She’s playing with her dolls on top of the stairs leading to the covered pool. She seems to be in her own world, doesn’t even notice Taylor sitting on the sofa next to her, with a wool blanket on top of her. The fact that she so desperately soaks in these first sunrays of the year makes it more than obvious that she and Eleanor need to escape to LA for a few days. She can’t take winter no more. Time for spring to come.

“Honey, remember, no playing by the pool top.” Taylor says, using her hand to shield her sunglasses, making sure she can see clearly what the toddler in her green puffer jacket is doing. Eleanor just nods, two big tails on the little curly head. She’s playing with the two mini dolls that her mother got her a few weeks ago and she still seems to be obsessed with these little princesses. Taylor smiles. She sinks her head, fixes the big blanket over her legs and checks her phone. Just as she was about to reply to the dozens of unanswered messages in her inbox, she can hear the door from the end of the rooftop open. Within two seconds, Taylor sees two huge feet tucked into these ugly big Nike slippers. In his sweatpants he closes the door slowly, smiling through the sun right at her. He’s done with work. She’s glad. Two hours were two hours too long. Too long of him working, and her pretending as if she’s glad to have some time by herself.

“Wow, this is nice.” he says as he slowly makes his way towards her. With an approving smile, Travis takes a look around the luxurious rooftop. Hard to believe that this peaceful outdoor space is right in the heart of Manhattan.

“Yeah.” she just says, her eyes still focused on the tall man, slowly making his way towards her. He lets himself fall down right next to her on the outdoor couch. She smiles at him through her sunglasses.

“How was it?”

“Good.” he smiles at her, his hand already on her thigh again, right above the blanket that’s been keeping her warm out here. “Jason says hi.”

She smiles, nods. She wonders what his brother thinks about all this. She knows that Travis is very independant from anyone’s opinions. It’s one of the things she admires about him. She knows he won’t get influenced by anyone else’s opinion about what they’re doing, who she is or whether this really is a good idea. But she still wonders what his family thinks. The fact that he’s just spending the week here, at her apartment. With her and her child. A weird thought that brings up some anxiety the more she thinks about it.

“Thanks.” she says, and he can feel that she’s insecure of how to react suddenly.

“I didn’t.. I didn’t tell him much. He knows I’ve been seeing you, but nothing more.” he says, has clearly just read her mind again. She nods. It’s okay. This answer is something she can live with.

“I know.” she says quietly, moves her cold hand on top of his. Her eyes looking for Eleanor once more. Travis just looks at the blonde woman next to him, smiles. He moves his thumb a little up and down, gently caressing her small and soft hand that’s on his.

“How are you feeling?” he asks then, and Taylor looks back at him. She sighs, leans back on the comfortable sofa that the two are sitting on, just facing the sun. He still can’t believe how nice and quiet it is here, in the middle of a rooftop in this big city jungle.

“Crappy, to be honest. But it’s okay. I’m used to it. Anytime she gets something, I get it two days later. Just… mom life.” she says, almost laughing at the end of her sentence. He nods. “I feel bad though because I told you a million times that you’re getting it next. And..”

“And I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he interrupts her gently, not raising his voice. Instead, his hand just keeps on caressing hers and it does something to her that she can’t quite explain. She feels safe. She feels seen.

“You’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that before?”

He laughs at her statement, throwing his head back like a little kid for a second. She can’t help but smile at him, too. She loves it when he laughs like this. She loves how easy everything is with him. There’s no darkness when they’re together. The black dog that always follows her around just disappears. This familiar blue feeling of anxiety on her chest dissolves slowly. He’s pure sunshine, and she doesn’t know he is aware.

“Touché.” he just says. She smiles. She’s got no arguments left.

“Mommy, Travy. Look.”

The two are suddenly pulled out of their thoughts. With her little pink converse shoes, Eleanor comes running towards the two of them. Travis can’t help but laugh at her bouncy pigtails. With her finger up in the air she stops right in front of him, holding the little ladybug right into his face.

“Honey, don’t.. don’t push it in Travis’s eye, please. Careful.” Taylor tries to stop her toddler, but it only makes the man next to her laugh. With his big hands, he gently holds on to the little hand, looks at it in awe, just like Eleanor did before.

“Wow, where did you find this little beauty?” he asks Eleanor. Her eyes are lid up. Taylor loves it. She loves seeing the world through Eleanor’s eyes. She loves that for this little girl, life is still as magical as it can get.

“It.. it was just flying on my hand. Just like that.” she says, giggles in excitement that this little animal chose her for a visit on this sunny afternoon.

“Want me to show you a trick?” Travis asks, and Eleanor nods. Taylor watches the interaction and smiles. With his huge fingers, he shows the little girl how to get the ladybug to crawl from her one hand to the other. Eleanor giggles, and Travis smiles at her when she does it herself for the first time.

“Now, you have to make a wish. Close your eyes.”

With a smile on the little face, she closes her eyes. Her small hands still gently in Travis’s. Taylor’s heart feels like bursting for a second.

“You got one?”

“Mhmhm.”

“Now blow it away. One, two…”

Eleanor blows the ladybug away, jumps up and down for a minute out of excitement. Travis laughs at the little girl’s excitement, still holding both her hands in his.

“Great job, E. High five.”

Eleanor claps her small hand against Travis’s. The smile on the little face is so evident to Taylor. Eleanor feels the sunshine, too.

Not just the one coming from the New York skies today.

She runs away, back to playing with her dolls at the end of the patio. Travis still chuckles, looking after her. His hand wandering to hers again.

“She’s so adorable.” he laughs, then looks at Taylor. She smiles at him, and he knows exactly what her face is telling him right now.

“I know, she is. Thanks for.. for being so sweet with her.”

Travis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He appreciates her words. Truth is, he appreciates every moment of the past 48 hours. Being here, in her home, with Taylor and her daughter. Being able to just be together. Watching her take care of her child. Taking care of her. Lots of hugs to give and witness. Lots of kisses in this house. Lots of laughs. He hasn’t felt this happy and secure in a while and he hopes that this bubble won’t burst anytime soon. He knows it’s outrageous for him to have cancelled a majority of his off season plans for this week, just to spend time here. It’s unlike him to give up work (and play) commitments just to be with a woman. But this time, it’s different. It feels more like a deep need to be here with her now. Not like a choice. He knows, he needs to find the right words soon. But for now, it’s enough to turn off his mind for a bit. Enjoy a few more hours of heaven with Taylor.

“Thanks for introducing me to her.” he replies, his face moving closer to hers. He gently kisses her cheek, his beard scratching her slightly. She looks back at him, nods then. Her forehead leans gently against his chin, her small hand caresses his beard for a moment. He steals her forehead a tiny kiss.

“Means a lot, Tay.” he adds. She nods. He knows it still makes her feel incredibly vulnerable to have let him enter her and Eleanor’s life. And he can only fathom why. It must have been a tough fight for her to take back her own life after separating from Eleanor’s dad. And he knows she won’t let anyone hurt her daughter ever again. But he just wishes she’d know that he will never hurt either of the two.

She doesn’t reply to him, instead lets her head gently fall onto his shoulder. His arm wanders around her and he loves holding her like this. The sun facing them. It’s peaceful here. It’s peaceful between them. He loves to feel this shift since the other night. Since the night she opened up, and allowed him to get close.

Closer than ever before.

___

With the hood of his jacket pulled deep into his face, he enters her building. It’s gotten dark outside now, and the sunny afternoon has turned into an icy, freezing night. Brandon opens the big doors for him, then enters the code to operate the elevator for him, and a few seconds later he steps inside. The doors close, and he can finally pull down the hood covering him. He can breathe again. None of the paparazzi outside have noticed him.

“Quiet evening, man?” he asks the security guard, who politely smiles back.

“Yeah, all good. Did some shopping?”

Travis smiles and nods, the wine he got for himself and Taylor securely wrapped in a brown bag in his hands.

“Yup. Got her some snacks. Keeping both of’em happy.” he jokes.

Brandon smiles. The interaction ends once the elevator door opens again. Travis steps outside, uses the key she gave him to enter the penthouse. Brandon says his goodbye, wishing him a nice evening and Travis closes her door. In an instant, her smell creeps back into his nose, into his lungs, into his… heart. It’s the same smell as her hair, when he kisses her head gently. The same smell as all her clothes, and the bed he slept in for a few nights now. He feels this indescribable feeling of happiness again, just by smelling her. He knows he’s far beyond the stage of falling for her. Her home feels like home to him, and every day - it just keeps getting worse.

Travis takes off his jacket, gently throws it over the chair in the living room. He steps into the generous, open kitchen, and carefully places the bags of food and wine on the countertop. He knows Taylor struggled to get Eleanor to sleep tonight. So the last thing he wants to do is wake up the small girl. He takes the bottles of wine from the brown bag, finally finds free space in the wine cabinet on the other side of the kitchen.

“Hi.” he hears a familiar voice coming from the stairs then. He turns to her, closes the wine cabinet. She smiles, the same make up free face as earlier, before he left to go to the grocery store on Greenwich Street that she loves so much. She’s in her comfy clothes from before, her bangs a bit messed up from Eleanor’s pillow.

“Is she out?” he asks, and Taylor nods, makes her way up to him. He immediately opens his arms, pulls her in for a tight hug. Her face pressed into his shoulder, nothing but her bangs looking out. She breathes him in.

“Yeah finally.” she sighs, “Why do you smell so good.”

Travis chuckles, moving his head in her tight hug to kiss her soft cheek again.

“You smell so much better.”

She lets go of him, both her hands wandering to his face. She smiles, then comes closer to kiss him gently.

“I got you some snacks. And wine. And..”

“Thanks so much. I promise, I will make a batch of cookies later tonight. I haven’t forgotten it. And I really want you to try these. Because, quite frankly, it’s a crime to stay at my house for more than 24 hours without trying my chai..”

“Hey, I have a better idea.” he says then. She stops for a second, has already started reaching for flour, sugar and the chai tea in her cupboard right in front of her. She can feel his big hands wrap around her from behind, and it makes her smile.

“Yeah, and what is that?” she asks, his beard pressed into her neck, gently kissing her skin.

“Come here.” he mumbles. One second passes and she feels his strong arms on her hips, lifting her up and placing her on the countertop behind her. She can’t help giggle a bit, loves that she’s towering him now. Her hands securely on his shoulders. He’s so strong and it never leaves her unimpressed. His nose touches hers for a second, and the smile on his face warms her heart in an instant.

“Mister, if this is what I think it is, can I remind you…”

“It’s not.” he assures her, kisses her again, can’t help but let out a laugh. She closes her eyes, both her arms wrapped around his neck. She feels herself letting go, a low sigh escaping her mouth. He pulls back after a few seconds, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I wanna spoil you tonight.” he says then, and she smiles, biting her lower lip for a second. He’s so handsome in this moment, and his eyes could move a damn mountain. She can’t unsee these pictures of him as a little boy. He truly, still, is the goofy kid he told her he once was. And god, does she have love for this kid. Does she have love for this man in front of her, his huge hands being so gentle and kind.

“You spoil me every night.” she whispers against his lips, making him laugh a bit.

“I don’t mean that kind of spoiling you.” he says, and she stops for a second.

“Wait, you’re not talking about… sexy time?”

“Sexy time?” he asks her with a laugh, can’t believe this is the way she describes their mindblowing, life-changing sex.

“I mean.. yeah it can be. But, I want to give you a massage. A proper one.”

She can’t believe his words, almost feels insecure for a moment. It’s been a long time since someone she shared a bed with has made this kind of effort for her. She still remembers, early on with Joe, he would do small little things for her. But it was never like this. It was always accidental. Always unplanned, but sweet. But this, right here, with Travis, is different. She can’t believe he’s thought about this. Can’t believe he wants to spend the evening giving her a massage, has actively thought about what she would need right now. It’s a new level of attentiveness she’s foreign to when it comes to relationships.

“Would you.. would you like that?” he asks then, has noticed her getting lost in her own thoughts. Within a second, she’s pulled back to reality and nods. Her mouth forming a smile.

“I would love that. I would absolutely love that. Thanks so much.” she murmurs, comes closer to him again and kisses him gently. He can tell she’s touched by this gesture, but that’s exactly what he wanted to achieve tonight. He wants to make her feel appreciated, respected, loved. He knows that after the past years with her ex, it’s still hard for her to let herself fall, enjoy the moment, let someone else take full control. But she deserves to be spoiled. She deserves to be treated this way. Always.

“Want to eat first? Or..”

She shakes her head, and it makes him laugh. She just presses her face next to his, hugging him like a koala bear. He smiles, can feel her craving his proximity. Within a second, he has lifted her up from the countertop, slowly walking up the stairs with her hugging him this closely. He can hear her giggle into his sweater, carefully closes the door to her bedroom behind them.

“Shall I leave the door open in case the little one wakes up?” he asks, carefully lets her down. She looks up at him smiling, then shakes her head.

“No, all good. I still have the baby monitor app on my phone. If there’s movement in her room, my phone goes off.”

He nods, his hand already on her cheek, stealing her forehead a last kiss before letting go again. She quickly turns on the little light next to her bed, then dims the room by turning off the main light. The mood has shifted, and it’s this romantic, low light she loves so much whenever she gets to be alone with him. This is her safe space. Him in her bedroom. The door closed. The world just staying outside.

“I’ll quickly go pee, okay? Do you.. do you need anything?”

“Bodylotion and a towel.” he says, and she smiles, not moving for a second.

“What?”

Standing in the door to the bathroom, looking at him, she just starts giggling. Her hand in front of her mouth now, the way she always does, whenever she gets shy for a second.

“Nothing. I.. I just can’t believe you’re so serious about giving me a massage.”

“Of course I am.” he says, has already taken off his sweatshirt and throws it over the little chair at the end of her bedroom.

“Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah, top drawer by my bedside.” she says, can’t believe he’s putting so much effort into this. She just watches him reach for the lighter, then begins putting on the big Loewe candle at the end of her room. She can’t believe he’s got this romantic side to him. A side of him she doesn’t really know that well yet. He suddenly looks at her, a bit confused, not sure what she’s waiting for.

“Go pee, now. Come on.”

“Okay, okay.” she mumbles, laughing to herself and closing the bathroom door gently. A few minutes later, the door opens again and she’s slowly stepping up to him. He has sat down on the side of her bed now, wearing nothing but his sweatpants and some socks. She stops right in front of him, looks around the room. She can’t believe he’s put on the candles.

“Bodylotion?”

“Oh, I forgot.” she mumbles, makes her way back into the bathroom again. When she comes back, she passes him her favorite shea body butter and a large white towel. A little out of place, she just stands there, watches him place the towel on top of her bedding.

“Shall I..”

“Come here, I’ll do that.” he smiles at her, and she trusts him. In her sweatpants and shirt, she crawls onto the bed, lands on her back and giggles as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra yet he won’t break eye contact to her. A few seconds pass, and her pants have gone, too. She lays there for a moment, in the dim light, feeling a bit more vulnerable than usually.

“You warm enough?” he asks her, notices immediately that she’s not a hundred percent comfortable. But she nods, just watches him closely. He puts a generous amount of body lotion into his hands, starts warming his hands together.

“Shall I.. shall I take these off?” she asks him with a smirk in her face, and it makes him laugh.

“Yes.”

“Oh, so it’s that kind of a massage?”

“Babe..”

“I’m teasing.” she giggles, gets rid of her thong and turns around. Laying flat on her stomach now, she feels his hands land on her back and it makes her shiver for a second. With her head turned to the side she closes her eyes, feels him fix her hair to the side, to ensure it’s out of the way.

“Do you have a spot that pains you sometimes?” he asks her, almost a whisper. This is their world. Nobody is here to listen in, and she feels herself let go. Feels herself open up.

“Yeah my.. my upper back and neck. I have horrible posture, so..”

Within a second, Travis starts massaging the spot that always hurts her, and she melts into the pillow. She feels goosebumps form all over her body, and she can’t believe he’s so good at doing this. For a moment, she can’t really speak, can’t really think anymore. His warm, soft hands kned over her skin and she feels a deep relaxation take over her.

“Oh my god..” she whispers then, and he smiles, giving his best to help her muscles relax properly.

“Is that okay?” he asks her quietly, his hands moving up and down her back, again and again.

“So good. This is.. so good.” he smiles, continues his work. He takes some more of the body lotion, moves with his hand movements down again to her lower back. He can feel her relax more and more underneath him. With her eyes closed, the talkative woman is suddenly dead quiet.

“Baby?”

He hears her whisper, almost feels like his entire body tingles for a second. She’s never called him that. She’s never called him anything other than the occasional ‘babe’ or ‘Trav’. For a second, he loosens his movements, looks up at her. She hasn’t moved, her eyes are still closed. He’s worried he might have hurt her. A hint of fear coming through.

“You okay?”

“I might fall asleep, is that.. are you mad, if I..”

He laughs gently, keeps on working on her back.

“You can fall asleep if you want to. This is for you to relax, stop worrying about falling asleep.” he says in the calmest way possible. Taylor doesn’t move. She feels herself drift off, can’t believe the amount of work and effort he puts into every single inch of her body. She can still feel him work on her lower back, now slightly moving to her hips. She can feel his talented hands move down every single muscle on her side. Not only are his movements the perfect amount of pressure and ease, but he also seems to have an extensive knowledge about the general muscle allocation. She’s never been massaged by someone she’s intimate with, didn’t know how good it can feel to let go off the tensions she carries in her upper thighs, and even her bottom. She doesn’t move, doesn’t know if she’s asleep yet or if she’s reached a new level of letting go. She can feel him work his way down her legs, massaging out all the tension from tour rehearsals in her calves. It’s the first time that his touch hurts a little, but it gets less and less with every round of kneading from his fingers. With every touch, the tension leaves her body. She lets out a soft sigh when he starts massaging her feet. She knew he’s good at foot massages, but she didn’t know his massaging skills extend to her other muscles, too.

“You still awake?”

“Mhmhm.” she mumbles.

“Can you turn around for me?”

She immediately moves in her bed, looks at the man smiling at her. He can’t help but laugh a little bit. She must have been so comfortable that she didn’t notice the pillow leaving a proper imprint on the right half of her face. She’s too cute. Before reaching for the body lotion again, he can’t help but get closer, steals her warm cheek a soft kiss.

“I’m shocked about how talented you are, mister.” she mumbles then, relaxation in her voice. He smiles, reaches for her left hand, massages her arms up and down. She’s laying fully exposed in front of him. No blanket covering her. And she’s never felt so safe. Never before.

“This is the best massage I’ve ever gotten.” she adds. Her eyes slowly closing. With his left hand he holds her arm upright, kneading all the tensions in her upper arm.

“I’m glad.” he says, fully focused on his work. “I’ve gotten so many massages before that I really picked up where some of the muscles are located, and what type of movements help release tensions.” he explains, slowly lets go off her arm, and Taylor opens her eyes again. She feels his hands full of lotion gently massage her tummy now. Suddenly, her hand reaches for his arm. He looks at her.

“Trav?”

“Mhm?”

“Kiss me.”

He smiles, comes closer to her and steals her lips a gentle kiss. He lets go after a few seconds, keeps on massaging her soft belly. She feels everything in her body tingling for a second, and she knows why. She knew this massage would eventually get to this point, but she didn’t think it would relax her this much. She then feels his hand move up her torso and within a second, her eyes are open. Wide open. He stops then, lowers his head and starts laughing. Within a second, the mood has changed. Drastically.

“I promise this.. this was not a boob grab, I just wanted to massage your cleavage. You do have muscles there. Believe me or not. And..”

She giggles, too, holding onto his strong arm, clearly messing with him.

“Please go ahead, I’m not stopping you.” she says with a giggle, her eyes not leaving his. With his soft hands he wanders up, starts massaging the muscles on the side of her neck. He’s so close to her face now, so close, and his hands keep on making the same moves. She looks deep into his eyes, feels him hit her deep muscle tissue then. She swallows. It hurts. It hurts to feel all the tension leave her body. She closes her eyes.

“You’re so tense here.” he whispers. She nods. He keeps massaging her. “Feels like.. feels like you carried a lot of weight on your chest.”

She has no idea why, but within a second, a tear streams down her face. Travis stops immediately, but her hand reaches for his.

“Please keep.. keep going.” she sniffles. She doesn’t know why she gets so emotional all of the sudden. But whatever he was doing with her body right here, works. She feels all these stuck feelings leaving her body. So many emotions come back up. She’s so tired suddenly. She feels this pain so clearly. But she needs him to keep going. She needs him to knead it out until the very end.

“Is it.. is it getting less?” he asks her, has noticed what she experienced just now. He’s learned from his physiotherapist that especially in the chest area, people tend to hold their tensions. Their grudges. Their undigested feelings. The last thing he wants to do is hurt the woman in front of him. But with every kneading movement of his fingers, he can feel her soften up. She has her eyes closed, nods. He won’t stop. After a few minutes, his movement gets slower. She opens her eyes again, looks into his. Within a second, her hands land in his neck and she pulls him down to her, kisses him gently. Her tears have dried up, and instead, she feels him be as gentle as she can be. And he loves tasting her. He loves how soft she is. Everything about her. A doze of dopamine hitting his system. She lets go off him then, her hands in his neck so that their noses still touch.

“Thank you.” she whispers against his lips. He nods. She doesn’t need to say anything else. Slowly, she reaches for his left hand, not letting her eyes leave his. Within a few seconds, he realizes where her hand has moved. With the most gentle motion, she has placed his hand on the most intimate part of her body. He understands immediately, lowers his face to kiss her neck gently. He’s trying so hard. He’s trying so hard not to let these three words just come bursting out of his mouth in this moment. Her skin is so soft under his lips, her little hands on his scalp, caressing him gently. He can feel her longing for him in between her legs. His fingers gently exploring her body, being as careful as they could be. Within a few seconds, he leaves her neck, looks back into her eyes again. Her lips are a bit swollen from their previous kisses, and there’s a kind of calmness in her eyes he hasn’t seen before.

“You sure?” he asks her again, and she appreciates it so much. Not a single time they’ve slept with each other without Travis asking for her consent beforehand. She appreciates this, appreciates just how much he respects her. She nods, adjusting her head on the pillow. She looks down, so that she can witness his fingers moving gently. She feels her chest rising, enjoys every single one of his hand movements so much. She swallows, her breath a bit shaky now. She can feel him kiss her cheek while his hand keeps up the steady movement. She feels so safe in this moment. She knows she can let go. She knows with him, she’s always safe to let go.

“Fuck..” she mumbles then, a little sigh escaping her mouth then, breaking the silence between them. She’s holding onto his neck with her hand, desperately looking at him.

“Can you..”

Travis immediately looks at her. She is fully focused on his hands, her left hand on his lower arm now, feeling his muscles move while he pleasures her. With the other hand, she’s holding onto the towel underneath her. She struggles to speak right now, but he patiently waits for her to finish her thought. He feels so close to her in this moment. They’ve just reached a new level of intimacy. He can feel it in his bones.

“What..”

“Can you go.. just a bit faster?”

He doesn’t reply to her, just does what she asked him. His circle motions are steady but at a higher speed than before. And she appreciates it. So much. She lets her head fall back into the pillow, the little frown appearing on her face that he knows so well. A frown he only knows when he’s in between her legs. And he loves it so much. With his free hand he begins to caress her naked stomach a bit, her hand reaching for his. She’s close. And he’s ready to be there for her, for every second of it. A last little moan escapes her mouth and it gives him goosebumps. Suddenly, her breathing gets faster and faster and he can hear her whisper his name a few times, with the same high pitched desperate moan that he knows and loves so much. He can feel her ride off her wave of pleasure, tightly holding into his arm, guiding him in his movements. He looks into her face as it happens, and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. For a few seconds, she breathes fast with her mouth open, her body just coming down from this mountain she climbed with him. He knows she’s sensitive now, and he’s as gentle with her as humanly possible. His hand still between her legs, he doesn’t move, gives her the time and space to come back down to planet earth. She opens her eyes again after a few seconds, her cheeks flushed. She just pulls him down to her, kissing him full of giggles and lust. He can feel her hand reach for his boxers. He laughs into the kiss. He knows what she wants, and he would be lying if he said he doesn’t want exactly the same.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” she mumbles in between the shower of kisses she gives him, her hand now fully landing on his naked butt. She smiles into their kiss. The stubble of his beard scratching her face in the best way.

“You’re so welcome.” he whispers back, smiling at her. She loves to feel his naked weight on top of her now. Two noses touching. He looks down for a second, gently guiding himself into her. He watches her face closely, trying to find any trace of discomfort. But there is none. She closes her eyes in pleasure again, and so does he. Paradise. He opens his eyes again, feeling her arms holding onto his. Her frown is back. Paradise. He can feel her move with him, her mouth opened, sweet moans escaping her again. He knows she’s holding back, not forgetting that they’re not alone in this house. But he’s still in paradise.

“Baby..” she cries out then, half a whisper, half a beg, half a moan. He looks at her, his big hand already cupping her face. He kisses her forehead right over her bangs. She’s warm. She’s slowly but surely starting to sweat a little, just like him.

“Can I.. I want to be on top, please. Please.” she mumbles. He immediately stops, lets himself fall next to her in bed. He feels her get up, position herself on top of him. She’s still flushed, yet her eyes barely leave his. He looks up at her, can’t help but feel like he’s dreaming. Her long hair over her naked shoulders. Her hands reaching for his chest to hold herself upright. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. She begins her movements again, and he helps her. His hands on her hips, his eyes on her face. She’s so beautiful. He can’t help but look at her. Can’t help but stare at her letting go on top of him.

After a few minutes, he feels his vision get blurry. She lets out another moan, a little louder than before. He feels himself come undone, then loves to feel her collapse on his chest. She’s breathing heavy, both of his hands on her bare back, feeling her lungs do the most in this moment. She comes down only slowly. Her skin hot and soft. She doesn’t move, just relaxes slowly. And he loves every minute of it. He loves feeling her get heavier and heavier on him. His hands stroking her back up and down, making her feel just as loved as before they had sex. A few seconds later, she looks back up at him, a smile on her face. He smiles back at her, both his hands cupping her face now, kissing her gently. This time, there’s no lust in his kisses no more. There’s just love. A lot of love.

She quickly moves on his torso and lets herself fall next to him. She stares at the ceiling for a second, then turns her head back to him. He’s moved to his side, just so he can see her better. His hand on her stomach again. He loves being so close to her. There’s nothing better than being so close to her. His fingers drawing circles on her skin.

“That escalated quickly.” she mumbles. He laughs, stealing her temple a soft kiss.

“Thanks for your.. for your incredible massage. Also for.. the other part after.” she says, grinning at him as goofy as a teenager who just had sex for the first time. It makes him laugh.

“I don’t think my body has ever felt so relaxed, Trav.” she whispers. His lips still on her temple. He smiles, as she looks back at him. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, he hasn’t noticed before. It must be the afterglow that people always speak about.

“You’re very welcome. Glad you liked it.”

“I didn’t just like it. Trav, that was.. electric. Literally electric.”

He smiles at her using his own words. She lets their noses touch once, has now moved to the side to be face to face, and eye to eye with him.

“Thank you so much.” she says again. He doesn’t really react, just places his hand on her cheek. There’s so much love in his eyes in this moment. He doesn’t need to say anything. His eyes just say it all.

“You cold?”

“A little.”

He starts moving, for the first time since minutes and helps her crawl underneath the big blanket just under them. She adjusts a little, then cuddles herself fully under the covers. Her hands looking for him. She moves again, until she’s finally fully embraced in his arms. He kisses her head, makes sure she’s covered by the blanket. Silence takes over, and he allows himself to close his eyes for a minute.

“Trav?”

“Mhm?

“Can we try this?”

“Try what?”

“Us.”

For a second, he can’t dare believe his ears. His eyes open, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if she just meant what she said, but she said it. Taylor moves again, turns around to be able to face him. She’s worried suddenly that she’s said too much. She’s worried that his silence is something other than utter surprise. He looks at her in shock. Within a second, she feels a tummy ache flaring up inside of her.

“Do you.. can you please say something?” she mumbles and he takes a breath, slowly sits up. She’s worried now. She’s never witnessed him this freaked out. She knew it was too soon. But she can take it back. Thank god she didn’t fully speak it out yet. She can fix this. She looks at him leaning against her bed rest. She carefully sits up as well, holding the blanket close to her naked body.

“I’m so sorry for.. just.. not finding the right words, Tay.” he says finally, and she nods “No worries, I mean I know I..”

“My answer is yes. But I need you to know what I’m in for.” he interrupts her and she’s shocked for a moment. She looks at him, feels her hands shaking suddenly. She doesn’t feel relaxed anymore, at all. What bomb did she just set off? She can feel him get nervous as well. It’s been a while since he was acting like this around her.

“I.. I don’t want us to just be another fling. I..” he stops, gathering his words, “I know this is not the most romantic way to do this, but if we try this, if we.. if we try being something serious. Like.. as serious as a relationship. Then.. then I want you to know that I’m in it for the long run.” he looks into her eyes, fully aware that this could scare her off for good. But he needs to honor himself. He needs to be straight with her, or else this won’t have a chance of working out.

“I’m not in this, if.. if you want a little distraction. Or a little fun. I want a partnership. I want to have a family eventually. And of course, we.. we have a long way to go. To see if we fit. To see if this can work. But I just want you to know that if we try this, then.. then this is my intention.”

Travis takes a deep breath after finishing his little speech. He can’t dare look at her again, but he’s proud of himself for having said it. Suddenly, he feels her hands reach for his. He looks back into her eyes, and she smiles. A little tear in her eyes. He can see that clearly.

“Okay.” she whispers. He swallows, not sure how to react. All he feels is her small hand caressing his.

“Okay?”

She nods, a smile on her lips.

“I want the same thing. With you. But.. I’m just.. I just hope you know what you are in for. With all this attention. I will be on tour soon, Trav. If you think this is bad, the security and the.. the staying hidden, then you have no idea what you’re in for in the next months. My life is crazy. My life is.. fully out of control. But it’s my life. And I have lost years of my life hiding for someone else who couldn’t handle the pressure. And.. and I can’t do that no more. I’m all in, but I just hope you know what that means for you.”

He looks at her, a big smile on his face. All the worries from before are gone. He nods.

“Tay?”

She looks at him, worry in her face. She knows his smile can’t really mean that he changed his mind after her little speech. But she is in fact worried that he will regret this. That he will ask her for more time to think about this. About what it means to be in a relationship with her.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What?” she says, her hand still holding his. She looks at the man in her bed. His naked torso leaned against her bed rest, his smile all over his face as he looks at her. She feels calm just looking at him smile like this, but there’s still a part of her that is full of anxiety right now.

“I.. I think I’m really really really in love with you. Like… so much, it’s not even funny.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him for a moment.

“Is that okay? I feel like.. maybe this is a good time to tell you. I will let you know if I can’t handle your life, I promise. But I need you to know that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And.. and it would make me the happiest person on this planet to call you my girlfriend.”

Travis finishes his sentence. She doesn’t say anything, just sits up a bit, both of her hands touching his cheeks. She presses her forehead against his, then leans in and kisses him. It’s a different type of kiss. She’s emotional. His hands land on her bare back again.

“I love you, too.” she whispers then, closes her eyes and lets him kiss her bangs gently.

“So much.”

___

“You sure this is a good idea?”

He asks again, sitting on the bed and looking at her. He’s wearing a pair of his Nike sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He watches her finish her make up in the mirror by her bedroom. She looks incredible, just like every day. A pair of blue boyfriend jeans covering her small frame, a grey longsleeve shirt on top and her black adidas shoes covering her feet. He loves to watch her get ready in the morning. He doesn’t know why, but it’s just another way of spending time with her. Witnessing her every move, every mundane thing she does in the morning, getting to know her even better.

“Of course it is.” she says again, for the fifth time today, turning around to look at him with a smirk. He laughs too, now, knowing he acts absolutely ridiculous. After all, it’s her dad. She loves her dad. And he’s always been popular with his ex- girlfriend’s fathers. No need to act like a little boy now, Travis.

“Listen, my parents are.. very much open to the idea of me dating again. I know they want me to be happy. And.. trust me, it’ll be fine.”

He nods, watches her walk towards him. She stops standing right in front of him. He presses his face into her shirt, right above her stomach, giving her a few nervous kisses.

“Also, I can’t stand the thought of you flying out today. So we definitely need to have a nice lunch altogether before you leave.” she mumbles into his head, kissing his head once.

He looks back up at her and smiles. He can’t believe he’s flying out to Kansas City again. He can’t believe he’s spent five extra days in this city. Unplanned. The most incredible, beautiful, five days with this woman. Not a single chance, he could ever forget these days in his lifetime.

“I’ll miss you, sweetie.” he mumbles. She nods, and he can see in her face that it worries her. She doesn’t want to leave their bubble. And neither does he.

“I’ll miss you, too.” she says, “But it’s just one week.”

He nods. They can do one week. They’ll be fine.

“Travy, look. I did this for you!”

Taylor quickly lets go off Travis, hears her daughter run into her mother’s bedroom. A pencil and a piece of paper in her small hands. Taylor and Travis decided to let some time pass before explaining to Eleanor where they both stand, with each other, in their relationship. She won’t ever fully introduce someone into her life, unless it’s as serious as it could get. And they’ve got time. They’ve got all the time in the world for this big move.

“What? For me?” Travis looks at the little painting she made him. He’s in true disbelief. Eleanor smiles proudly at her mommy, gets all shy and nods then.

“This is Olivia and Benjamin and Chauncy and Rambo.”

Taylor can’t help but laugh a little, looks from Travis back to Eleanor. Her hands land on the little curlyhead. All it took was for Travis to show Eleanor a few pictures and videos of his dogs, and the little girl fell in love. Taylor knows how much she adores animals. Of course, she would fall in love with his doggs in a minute - even without having met them yet.

“Oh my goodness. Eleanor. This is.. this is beautiful.” he says, completely serious, looking into the little girl’s proud face.

“Wow, you’re so talented.” he says,pokes her tummy once and she giggles.

“Can I get a hug?” he asks, and Eleanor falls into the big man’s arms. For a moment, Taylor stands there and feels herself get emotional. She knows this little girl hasn’t had a steady male figure in her life, besides her grandfather and her uncle, for almost a year now. Ever since her separation from Joe, Eleanor has seen her father twice. Phone calls that were promised got less and less. And Taylor could feel Joe not just forget about her, but also his daughter. He’s left her. She can barely let these thoughts enter her mind, but sometimes, they just come creeping back up. She knows that Eleanor knows exactly that her father hasn’t called in months. And Taylor knows that maybe, just maybe, this is why she’s so crazy about Travis. And how can she not be? He’s tall, he’s funny, he makes her laugh and he’s so kind and gentle to her.

“Thanks so much, girly. I’m honored. This is beautiful. I will hang this one up in my house.” Travis says to Eleanor. Taylor notices Eleanor’s hand landing on Travis’s.

“And I promise you, soon you will meet Rambo and Chauncey. I promise. And I’ll send mommy some videos tonight.” he says, making Eleanor jump up and down a few times. Taylor loves seeing her so excited. She loves this relationship that’s slowly forming between Travis and her. But then again, the more she feels these two connecting, the more she feels herself growing anxious. A deep wave of anxiety, worry, almost panic arising in her chest.

If this won’t work out, then Travis will break two hearts.

Not just one.

___

“Grandpa!”

Travis hears Eleanor screaming while running towards the elevator door of the townhouse. He just stands there in the kitchen, taking a deep breath, which he hopes will remain unnoticed. Taylor already laughed at him taking off his earrings before. But he wants to be as presentable as possible for her dad. After all, he’s the man who entered his daughter’s and granddaughter’s life. He wants him to have a good first impression. Whatever that means. Travis slowly makes his way to the door, watches Eleanor jump onto Scott’s arm. The older man laughs a few times, already listening to Eleanor tell him all about her new school. Taylor just looks back to Travis, rolling her eyes at her daughter. He laughs. Eleanor is a very talkative little girl. He absolutely adores it about her.

“Hi, honey.” Scott says then, hugging his daughter. Travis immediately feels the man’s eyes on him. He smiles at him, not sure how to act. He takes a step closer to him, opening his arms. Immediately, he realizes that Scott gives him a hand shake instead. Slightly embarrassed, he shakes his hand, tries to hide the fact that he expected the welcome to be a bit warmer, instead.

“Hi, Mr. Swift. It’s so good to meet you. Taylor told me so much about you.”

Scott smiles, barely, and nods.

“Nice to meet you.”

Taylor watches the interaction, and gets a little confused. Her father is usually the warmest person she knows, has never not opened his arms for any of Taylor’s friends, or even her crappy ex-boyfriends. She’s not used to her dad being this cold, especially towards someone as open and as warm as Travis. Her parents have always taught her to keep warm people close. And Travis is one of these people.

Taylor doesn’t say anything, just places her arm on Travis’s shoulder. It’s a small gesture but he knows its her way of assuring him.

“So glad you get to meet Travis, dad.” she mumbles, but Scott doesn’t really react, is suddenly extremely busy hanging up his jacket next to the door.

“Alright, shall we have lunch?” she says then, hoping the mood in the room gets lighter soon. She feels incredibly insecure suddenly. But she hopes Travis won’t feel any of this. He doesn’t deserve to not feel welcomed. After all, he’s been the most incredible person in her life for these past months.

“Sounds good.” Scott says, placing his bag in the dining room.

“Grandpa, can we watch a movie together?” Eleanor asks her grandfather, already holding his hand again. Scott smiles at her, his hand protectively on her little head.

“Sweetheart, your mommy and I have a few work meetings after lunch. But tonight, we can watch a movie together. How about that?”

Eleanor nods, seems to not be very happy about his answer.

“Should I.. do you need any help in the kitchen?” Travis asks Taylor. She looks at him, and immediately feels his tension. She hates it.

“Actually, why don’t you and dad just sit down, and Eleanor and me we can get lunch ready huh?”

Her hand lands on Travis’s back. He gives her that one look that always makes her laugh. But she knows this is good. As soon as her dad and him talk for a bit, the tensions in this penthouse will disappear and her dad will absolutely love him. Just like everyone else in her life so far.

“So, Scott. I heard you were also big on football during high school?” Travis asks, sitting down right in front of him at the dining table. Scott looks at him, no smile in sight. He nods.

“Yup, I was a running back for five years.”

“Oh wow.” Travis laughs, obviously relieved that the two have found a topic to discuss. “That’s awesome. Did you ever think about doing it professionally?”

“I was a Finance major. So football was obviously just a hobby. Nothing more.”

“Yeah, I get it. For me, was quite the opposite. Sports was always the only thing I was good at, so..”

Scott doesn’t react. Silence. Travis looks up at him, has run out of things to say. Her dad clearly isn’t interested in a conversation with him. Instead, the seventy year-old man picks up Eleanor, helping her crawl onto the chair next to him. She shows him her little photo book that her mother has crafted with her, and filled with polaroids of herself and her three cats. Travis watches Scott smile at Eleanor. The shift in his mood couldn’t be more obvious. He’s completely in awe with his granddaughter, as he should be. And he couldn’t be less interested in getting to know him. Travis swallows, feels Taylor’s hand on his back. He can see in her face that she feels the same as him, pretends to put on a smile for him. But he can see right through her. There’s no denying that the mood is off.

“What do you guys want to drink? Water? Sparkling water? Soda?”

“I’ll just get a water. Thanks, honey.” Scott says.

“Coke for you, babe?” she asks Travis. Her hand gently caressing his cheek over his beard.

“I’ll just.. get a water. Thanks, babe.”

She doesn’t say anything, and Travis wasn’t the only one feeling her father’s eyes on him. Taylor walks back into the kitchen, feels herself slowly get angry. She doesn’t know what has gotten into her dad. But she really hopes he gets it together, soon.

“Do you usually just drink sodas for lunch, Travis?”

Taylor places the waterbottle on the countertop with a bang. She’s getting mad, now. One more word and she’s going to loose her patience. Travis has been nothing but kind and polite. Yet her father treats him like a criminal.

“Well, I train a lot. So I need to get my calories in somehow. I try to stick to diet drinks, but.. well sometimes an ice cold coke is just.. refreshing.” he laughs, a little insecure as he doesn’t get a nod back.

“Sodas are the number one reason for type one diabetes in our country. And that goes especially for children, Travis. I always tell Taylor it’s probably safer to have pesticides in the house than to give Eleanor any of these sugar drinks.”

Travis doesn’t say anything, just nods. He asks himself if he was irresponsible these past days. After all, he did drink coke in front of Eleanor and even let her try once when Taylor allowed him to. He gets quiet, understands that there’s no arguing with her dad in this. After all, he’s right.

“Too bad, because all this little girl drinks is coke and fanta and sprite. Oh, and sometimes before bed I add some sugar to her coke. Just makes her more sleepy, I find. The good old sugar crash just does the job.” Taylor says, a hint of anger in her voice. She places the food and water she just brought on top of the hardwood table. Scott just shakes his head, his hand still protectively on Eleanor’s little head.

“Not funny, Taylor.”

“Dad, come on. As if you never drink coke for lunch.”

“Well, I certainly don’t after having cancer.”

“Here goes the good vibes.” Taylor says, angry, looking at Travis. He doesn’t say anything, and she feels horrible for him. Under the table, she reaches for his hand, squeezes it a few times.

“Eat up, guys.” she says then, encouraging the two men to start eating. Eleanor reaches for her glass of water, and starts chugging it down. It gets quiet. Horribly quiet. Travis doesn’t speak, and neither does Scott.

“Grandpa.” Eleanor says, and Taylor has to smirk. Of course her bubbly five-year old would kill these weird vibes today.

“Yes, honey.” Scott says.

“Look at my bracelets.” she says, proudly, showing her grandfather her arm full of friendship bracelets.

“Oh, beauiful. Did you make that all by yourself?”

“Yes, with my friend Emily.”

“That’s awesome.”

“And this one I made with Travy yesterday.” she says proudly, smiling at Travis. He smiles back at her, his head tilting slightly to the side. He always does that whenever Eleanor looks at him with her little eyes. Taylor witnesses the interaction with a smile.

“Travy?”

“Yeah, she… well, my nieces always call me Travy so I told Eleanor she can call me..”

“Taylor. Can I speak with you outside for a second.”

Taylor swallows. For a moment, the entire demeanor around this table has shifted, once again. Travis knows exactly what this is about. He feels guilty all of the sudden. Guilty for having entered Taylor’s life. Guilty for getting closer to Eleanor. He can feel Taylor get more tense. The two adults get up, leave the room to take the stairs up to the rooftop patio. He swallows. He’s definitely lost his appetite now. He just sits there, leans back. A door is closing. Loudly. And then all he hears is yelling. Scott yelling, then Taylor. Then Scott. Then Taylor interrupting him yelling some more. He’s so glad he can’t hear just every word he says. But he knows what this is about. And hearing Taylor yell like this is not something he’s ever witnessed before.

“Travy..” Eleanor mumbles then, looks at Travis confused.

“Is mommy fighting with grandpa?” she asks him, has also put down her fork. He can see in her little blue eyes that she’s worried. And Travis feels even worse. He swallows, takes a deep breath, then sighs.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Eleanor nods.

“I don’t like it when mommy is mad. Because.. because sometimes, she gets sad, too.”

“Yeah, I also hated when my mommy was sad.”

Eleanor nods.

“Maybe grandpa didn’t like my bracelets.” she says then. Travis can’t help but smile suddenly. He can’t believe this beautiful little girl thinks anything she ever did is the reason her mom and grandpa are fighting.

“Hey, give me your hand, girly.” he says then, gently. Eleanor looks at him, and Travis reaches for her small hand on top of the table.

“Listen to me.” he mumbles, “your grandpa absolutely loves your bracelets. Trust me.”

Eleanor nods slowly. He caresses her tiny hand for a second, so long, until Eleanor seems to be lighting up again.

“Travy.”

“Yeah?”

“Promise to send mommy the video of Chauncey and Rambo, okay?”

He smiles gently, then nods.

“I promise.”

#taylor swift #taylor swift fanfiction #travis kelce #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fanfic #smut #fluffy #fanfic #fanfiction #citybound #lovebound

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engie-ivy · 1 year

Text

(Lyall Lupin being a Good Dad for his anxious son in law😁 For @wolfstarmicrofic)

9th: Cosy

1039 words

Lyall goes to use the toilet, and ends up adopting a new son.

Your New Family

“Really, Lyall?” Hope places her hands on her hips. “We just got here!”

“Sorry dear,” Lyall says cheerily. “But that’s the price you pay for becoming an old man, very frequent toilet breaks. Besides,” he adds. “With all your fretting about not being late, we’re like twenty minutes early, so now’s the perfect time.”

Hope rolls her eyes, a gesture Lyall is all too familiar with, and goes to inquire whether their table is already available, while Lyall strolls to the restrooms.

When he’s relieved himself and walks over to the sinks, there’s a boy pacing up and down. Well, maybe he’s more a young man, looking rather handsome with his fancy shoes, crisp white shirt, fitted suit jacket and long hair neatly tied into a pony tail, but to Lyall, he’s still a boy.

As Lyall is washing his hands, the boy leans on the sink next to him, staring at his reflection in the mirror, while taking what seem to be calming breaths.

Lyall meets the boy’s sharp grey eyes in the mirror. “Everything alright, lad?”

“Ah,” the boy says, looking slightly flustered. “Yes. Yes, I’m sorry, sir. Please, don’t mind me. I’m just...” He gestures vaguely with his hand. “Anxious, I guess.”

Lyall smiles at him as he turns off the tap. “On a big date?”

“No,” the boy says. “Not really. I mean, sort of, I guess.” The boy makes a move as if he wants to run his hand through his hair, showing that he’s not used to having it tied up. He settles for tugging at his pony tail. “I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents for the first time. They’ll be here in...” He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Fuck.” He presses his hand against his forehead. “Pardon my language,” he says after a quick glance at Lyall.

“Ah,” Lyall says, as something starts to dawn on him. “And you don’t think they’ll be... nice people?”

“They’re the best people!” The boy exclaims. “Going by what my boyfriend has been telling me at least, they’re really great.” He shakes his head. “But that’s just the fucking- I mean, that’s just the bloody problem, innit?”

Lyall tilts his head as he dries his hands with a paper towel. “How so?”

The boy shrugs. “My boyfriend comes from this warm and loving family, and he’s really close to his parents. It’s important to him that I get along with them.”

“Right.” Lyall nods in understanding. “And that of course puts a lot of pressure on you.”

The boy sighs. “I’m just scared I’ll fuck it- sorry, I’ll mess it up. I mean, what do I know about bonding with parents? I couldn’t even get my own bloody parents to even like me, and they’re supposed to have been programmed to love me!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lyall says sincerely.

“He’s envisioning this whole future, y’know?” The boy continues, now letting it all come out. “Coming together for birthdays, celebrating Christmases together, Sunday brunches at his parents’ place... He’s picturing this harmonious, cosy family, and I sure as hell can’t offer him that from my side, so if his parents don’t like me, I’ll take all of that away from him.”

Lyall looks at him sympathetically. “Sounds like it’s really important to you.”

The boy looks away. “I just don’t want to disappoint him,” he says softly. Then he lets out a humourless laugh. “God, I’m sorry. I swear I don’t normally trauma-dump on strangers in the restroom like this!”

“No, no,” Lyall says. “I asked, so don’t worry about it, lad. And the fact that You’re so anxious only means that this guy really means a lot to you.”

“He means everything to me,” the boy says without a moment of hesitation. He smiles to himself. “I can’t even explain. I mean... if I can’t give him everything, if he can find someone who can, who will make him happier, then I want him to break up with me, y’know? Even if it’ll completely destroy me. It’s like.... nothing matters besides his happiness.” He shakes his head. “I’m probably not making much sense. I’ve honestly never felt like this before.”

Lyall feels a warmth somewhere in his chest. “You know, lad, all a parent want is for their child to be happy...”

“But I don’t know that,” the boy interrupts, before adding quietly “Mine sure never did...”

Lyall feels a surge of fatherly protectiveness wash over him, for a boy he only just met! “I’m sorry you had that experience,” he says, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But take it from me, if they are indeed the good people your boyfriend has made them out to be, then that will be the only thing that matters,” he says firmly. “So if you love your guy-”

“I do,” the boy immediately says. “I love him so, so much.”

Lyall regards him fondly, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Then trust me, that will be enough for them. It won’t matter if you’re wearing a fancy jacket, or if you’re hair is neatly tied up, or if you let slip the occasional curse word. If he loves you and you love him, and you make him happy, then that is going to be more than enough.”

The boy gives him a grateful look. “Well, then I have nothing to worry about,” he then says with a grin. “Loving him is actually my specialty!”

Lyall lets out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re going to be just fine!”

Suddenly, the boy gives him a hug. Lyall is startled for a moment, but then easily hugs him back.

“Thank you,” the boy says, pulling away. “I’m sure this isn’t what you were expecting when you just wanted to use the toilet, but I appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyall says. “And I’m sure your new family will grow to love you.”

The boy grins at him. “Alright, here I go. Wish me luck!”

“You don’t need it, lad.”

The boy chuckles. “If Remus’ dad is even slightly like you, I’m sure I’ll be fine!” And then he dashes out of the restroom.

Lyall looks in the mirror and smiles to himself. “I’ve got a sense that he will be.”

Now with a part 2!

Part 2: Your New Son

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #lyall lupin #hope lupin #lyall lupin is a good dad #anxious sirius black #sirius finds a new family

705 notes · View notes

hypnoneghoul · 2 days

Text

Wake the Dead

WC: 5k

Relationship: Rain/Mountain/Phantom

Tags: Transmasc Phantom & Mountain, Tentacle Dick, Improper Use of Gills, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Bioluminescent Cum, Biting, Implied/Referenced Abuse (aka phantom has trauma), Vaginal Fingering, Anal Sex, Tail Sex, Face-Sitting, Aftercare, Cuddling, Not So Concealed HC Lore Drop

“I want you both to get inside,” Rain mumbles. “Both of you in my gills.” Or Phantom and Mountain fuck Rain's gills with their t-dicks...and so much more.

Notes: Commission for @midnight-moth! Thank you so much for your support, Dylan <3 Divider by @ghuleh-recs!!!

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Phantom has no idea how he ended up in there; what good he has done to deserve ending up in there. From the moment he got summoned he has seen how tight the ghouls are, how they are not only band and packmates, but that they are a family.

The quintessence ghoul did not dare think—did not dare hope—that he was special enough to become a part of it. He came as a replacement, who knew if he would even stay there and not get sent right back to the Pit after the tour? For a few hundred years of his life down there he had never gotten anything good, no reward for surviving that long.

He had been alone, lived in pain and sorrow for centuries. Getting summoned Topside seemed like a turn, like his life would finally get better, but he didn’t dare hope in case it all gets snatched away the second he believes it’s real.

But in moments like these, he does believe it's real.

Over a year and a half later Phantom still doesn’t know how and why, but he’s there with them and it’s all that matters.

They have been at it for hours…days, maybe; none of them knows. It’s slow, languid—an indulging slide of sweat and slick covered bodies against each other.

Phantom is floating, he’s somewhere far, far away, kept on Earth only by the gentle, yet somehow still firm, grip of…Rain, he thinks. His eyes are closed, he’s just sensation, he can only feel. The hands on him are pleasantly cold—just as the tentacle buried inside him up to the very hilt, filling him up nicely—but there’s warmth at his back, a rhythmic rub of knuckles against his spine.

An image flashes before Phantom’s eyes. Of the night he got summoned, of him lying curled up and shaking in the summoning circle; covered in blood, with shredded claws, and missing half a horn, half an eye, and half a tail. He has been afraid most of his life in the Pit, but it was nothing in comparison to the fear that paralyzed him at that moment—when he took in all those big ghouls standing over him, surrounding him, looking ready to pounce.

There was no real warmth in their eyes, then.

But warmth does flood him as he realizes how it all turned out. How…how loved he is, now, how he is finally safe. Exactly all of the things he never dared even hope were possible

Phantom opens his eyes and looks right into Rain’s, and even though the water ghoul’s gaze is like a window into the freezing ocean’s depths, it is warm and full of affection.

He feels as if he will cry and he just might when it all calms.

“You’re doing so good for us, batsy,” Rain smiles down at him, moving his hips as smoothly as only a water ghoul can manage; with the feel of water herself in it. The quintessence ghoul gasps and suddenly all of his body is a single raw nerve when Rain’s tentacle hits some secret place inside him and makes a bolt of electricity go through him.

“So good for us,” Mountain echoes from behind him, rasping it right into Phantom’s ears. His hand is moving under him, rubbing his fat clit with one hand and holding the small ghoul against his chest with the other thrown across his middle.

Phantom could die right here and now and he would be the happiest ghouls to have ever lived.

Rain moans and the quintessence ghoul sees his tail twitch where it’s coiled around his own thigh. He hangs his head and rests his forehead against Phantom’s and a purr breaks out of the younger ghoul when the other takes a moment to affectionately rub their faces together.

“I love you,” Phantom mumbles, earning himself a big, wet and sloppy kiss in return. Rain licks into his mouth—runs his tongue over his fangs and gums, as if exploring. As if he isn't familiar with every single inch of him yet. The quintessence ghoul whimpers and opens up even more, letting Rain overtake him in any way that he might desire.

Mountain seems to be feeling left out. He hooks his chin over Phantom’s shoulder and leans up to press his lips against whatever he can reach. It just so happens to be the water ghoul’s fluttering gills and neither of them will complain about it.

The earth ghoul slides his unglamored tongue against the slits in Rain’s neck and revels in the sweet noise that he lets out; that is swallowed by Phantom right away.

His cunt squeezes around Rain’s cock and he loses a bit of the control he’s still somehow hanging onto. Phantom is so warm and slick and silky inside it’s maddening and Rain’s tentacle does what it wants with little to no regard to what the water ghoul wants from it. Paired with Mountain’s wet tongue on and in his gills, Rain’s absolutely losing his mind.

He kisses the quintessence ghoul as if he’s the last thing he would ever get to taste, sucking the breath straight out of his lungs and letting it out into Mountain’s mouth through his gills. It all feels sickly good, ecstatic, and none of them seems to be getting enough. They would spend hours, days, years in each other’s arms if only it were possible. They just might try.

Rain thrusts in and out of Phantom’s cunt harder and faster with every second, slapping against the back of his thighs and spreading his legs even more than they already are—held as such by Mountain’s own hooked over his knees. It’s a beautiful tangle, but when Phantom is going to regain his energy later, he will definitely need to sooth them all with quintessence.

It’s irrelevant now as they’re lost in pleasure of each other's bodies.

Rain punches a pretty little moan out of Phantom with every single thrust, josling him on top of Mountain who’s still rutting his stiff clit against the quintessence ghoul’s back and his own hand. It’s far from being particularly satisfying, but there’s no place he’d rather be right now.

He kisses and bites and sucks at the gorgeously splotchy purple-white skin of Phantom’s shoulder, turning the pale parts violet by worrying it between his teeth. Tiny scars that are littered all over the young ghoul feel like satin under his tongue and Mountain wishes there would be more words that he could mumble into his skin and mouth to make him realize how wonderfully beautiful he is.

There’s no way Phantom realizes, no way he sees himself like Mountain—like all of his pack, for that matter—sees him. If he did, there would never be any doubt in his seeing eye, no accusation of ugliness or wrongness.

Sometimes it is still, and the earth ghoul will work incessantly with all the others to get rid of any doubts once and for all. They all do that for each other, they are all the most gorgeous creatures to each other.

Mountain gets lost in thought despite the fire raging around him, the arousal thick like smoke in the air. They’re all choking on it and gasping—desperate for fresh air—into each other’s mouth, trying to breathe it out of each other.

One of Rain’s hands moves, stops gripping Phantom’s hip as if he would turn to dust the moment he lets go, and ends up on Mountain’s burning cheek. It cups it lightly, in a manner not fitting the sinfulness of their current endeavors.

The water ghoul pulls his mouth away from Phantom’s for a moment—his lips swollen and deliciously shiny with saliva—and graces Mountain with a smile before leaning down and giving him a taste, too. He always tastes so sweet, the earth ghoul can never get enough of any part of him.

The involuntary growl that rips itself out of Mountain when Rain pulls away reminds him of the night Phantom got Topside. It was terrible, the worst summoning ritual he has ever witnessed and his stomach still turned uncomfortably at the memories. He growled similarly then—though way louder and with a different intention—and he knows he scared Phantom to death. If scaring him more than he already was was even possible then.

Mountain growled out of instinct at whoever did all that to him, though, not at the poor ghoul himself. The moment he saw him, he recognized him as pack and earth ghouls were considered the most territorial, protective and possessive for a reason. If not a tight grip Dewdrop has had on his hand, Mountain would launch himself into the closing portal and give Phantom’s abusers—whoever they were—similar treatment. If not worse.

It would have definitely been worse.

So much worse.

Now, though, the quintessence ghoul is so soft and pliant in his arms, and the noises spilling from his lips one by one are as sweet as they get. There are times where Mountain regrets not being as close with Phantom as some of the others have gotten over time, even despite his feelings, but when it really matters, the earth ghoul is there for him. And regardless of whether Phantom knows it or not, Mountain would rip apart everyone and anyone that would ever dare to raise a hand at him.

His thoughts wander too much, he realizes, but at least it gives him some more time before he blows. It would be a shame to do so prematurely and even though he knows it’s a certain feature of his that his packmates adore exploiting, he would rather hold out and be able to enjoy the act fully.

His position is awkward at best, but he manages to hook his hand down between his legs and sink two fingers into his creamy cunt. He can neither get them deep enough nor stimulate himself in any meaningful way, but stalling is his goal here.

Mountain’s other hand travels from Phantom’s waist to his thighs and down, between them, where Rain is fucking into him with abandon. The earth ghoul wants to feel, to run his rough, calloused fingertips against Phantom’s folds, the place where the other two are joined, slip one digit inside him alongside Rain’s cock.

“Mounty–” the water ghoul gasps and pulls back a fraction, just enough to give Mountain space to grab his cock. He smirks against Phantom’s neck and wraps two fingers around the base of Rain’s tentacles, caressing the soft, barely there, suckers on the underside of it.

The quintessence ghoul moans loudly and wiggles his hips, clearly not satisfied with the other pausing. Mountain hums and the moment he pulls his hand back, Rain is slamming himself back into Phantom’s cunt, so deep he feels him in his throat.

The earth ghoul grits his teeth and pulls both of his hands away to put them on Phantom’s skinny hips and grip him tightly, holding him against his chest so hard he bruises. They both might.

“C–close…” Rain cries out, shoving his face into the other side of Phantom’s neck and taking it—surprisingly gently—between his teeth.

“Uh-huh, fill me up, Rainy,” Phantom begs and even though it’s not meant for him, it makes Mountain groan. For the water ghoul it’s all it takes, he sinks his fangs deep into Phantom’s shoulder as his tentacle buries itself equally deep in his cunt. His hips twitch weakly as he spills inside the younger ghoul, filling him up with cum that will definitely make both him and the bed glow once it gets dark.

Not that it’s a disadvantage; Rain would lie if he said he did not enjoy marking his lovers with something inherently him that can’t be gotten rid of as easily as just wiping it off with a wet cloth.

Phantom and Mountain will glow with his cum—even if the latter just from it spilling everywhere—and Rain will take great pride in it. He can’t wait to stare at it leaking out of the quintessence ghoul’s pretty pussy, it'll match the galaxies of his skin perfectly.

“Fuck, feels s’good, Rainy,” he whines as he clumsily tries to hook his legs on the water ghoul’s hips and bring his even closer. He would have to quite literally split him open and crawl inside to do that, but it doesn’t stop Phantom from craving such closeness. Not after he spent centuries without experiencing a gentle touch.

Rain is breathing too heavily to be able to speak—his post-nut dizziness has to cease first—but Mountain is still there, still rutting his little cock against Phantom’s back.

“Come on, iris,” he hums into his ear, nipping at the shell of it with a fang. He gives up holding the quintessence ghoul down in lieu of pinching his nipples and pulling just enough to rip a pretty whine or two out of him. “Come on, make our dear petal even wetter. Soak us all.”

Phantom is unable to resist such a delightful image. His back arches so far it looks painful—it is for Mountain as he crushes his chest, even considering how much smaller Phantom is than him—as a loud wail falls from his lips. His cunt grips Rain’s cock like a vice as he cums and the water ghoul cries out quietly at the tightness on his overstimulated flesh.

“Oh–ah…shit,” Mountain swears under his breath, hastily getting one of his hands back on himself. He grinds against the heel of his palm for a few short moments more, letting out a series of breathy little gasps and whimpers, before he cums, too, folding in on himself as much as Phantom’s now limp body lying over him allows.

As soon as the earth ghoul goes boneless, Rain flops down right over Phantom, effectively turning the three of them into a very messy sandwich. They pant into each other, slowly coming down from their respective highs and back to reality.

The quintessence ghoul feels soft lips on his shoulder and he trills happily when he realizes it’s Mountain lazily kissing his splotchy skin and licking at the slowly bleeding bite left by Rain. He tips his head back and nuzzles against the other’s cheek.

In the meantime Rain does the same to Phantom’s chest, rubbing his face against him affectionately; not unlike a cat. It’s adorable—all of them are—even considering what debauchery they just indulged in. Still are; Rain didn’t even pull out.

Someone should move and reach for one of the water bottles on the nightstand, but it suddenly feels way too far. All their limbs burn, but it's a pleasant ache, one that they will revel in for the next few days, especially when all the memories come flooding back. Or when it will make them come flooding back.

Phantom purrs quietly between the other two—the ghoul loving to be stuffed full and squeezed above anything else. Rain giggles, all giddy out of nowhere, and kisses a tiny beauty spot just next to the quintessence ghoul’s nipple; resisting the urge to bite down on it. Another time.

They lay like this for a while, letting their minds float and their bodies relax and get back on the horny track. They have all evening and night, after all.

“I want you both to get inside,” Rain mumbles into Phantom’s chest after a while, his own having finally paused heaving with exertion. He’s obviously not done yet and he’s ready to go on. “Both of you in my gills.”

Mountain sighs—though not with exasperation—and wiggles an arm out from where it got squeezed between Phantom and himself. They will have to part if the water ghoul wants to go again, but for now he just blindly pats around looking for the gills on Rain’s ribs. He grumbles, though, wiggling on top of them both and making Phantom moan as the suckers of his cock pull on his hole where it’s still snug inside him.

“Not fingers,” Rain clarifies, sounding pouty. “Your cocks.”

“Oh,” Phantom whimpers at the thought alone. That would be neither very possible nor safe with an actual cock, but with their perfectly cute little t-dicks…well, Rain wants to have them everywhere that they can go.

He peels himself off of Phantom and rolls over to the side to sit up and help the younger ghoul up, too. He pulls him into his lap for a few sweet kisses and affectionate nuzzles as Mountain gets himself together. As much as possible in such circumstances, at least.

“How, petal?” he asks, but Rain simply lays down in his place instead of replying. He wraps his tail around Phantom’s slight waist and pats his chest in invitation. The quintessence ghoul scrambles to straddle him, throwing a leg over him; so eager to both please and feel good himself again.

Mountain hums, considering, before moving to Rain’s other side and kneeling over him, a bit lower than Phantom. He hands the water ghoul a pillow to support his neck in the awkward position and—the not-so-secret little shit that he is—lowers himself and drags his cunt over the frilly gills on Rain’s ribs as he tries to get comfortable.

He smirks at the wrecked noise that he lets out at that and settles himself over him more comfortably, waiting for Phantom to do the same.

“C’mon, boys, gimme,” Rain whines and even though the quintessence ghoul is terrified of breaking his damn neck, he braces himself against the headboard and leans forward to nudge his clit against the gills on the water ghoul’s neck.

Mountain goes first, though, wrapping an arm around Phantom for support and lacing the fingers of his free hand with Rain’s limply laying one. He rolls his hips gently at first, to get his little cock into one of the slits, and then with more purpose, to actually fuck inside.

It’s insane.

Rain moans loudly and lets his head roll to the side to give Phantom more space to slip inside, too, and—oh, Lucifer—does he. The young overeager ghoul goes right for it, pushing his fat clit into the water ghoul’s neck and humping him as best as he can while still trying to be somewhat careful. Though not for much longer, most likely.

All of Mountain and Phantom’s worries are quickly snuffed out by the delirious babbling and wrecked noises falling from Rain’s lips one by one. It shouldn't take long for him to start crying, the earth ghoul thinks.

Rain lays boneless under the two ghouls abusing the delicate organs of his that absolutely were not made for what’s happening. Satan must be proud of them sexualizing absolutely all parts of their human-ish bodies, though.

One particularly pained wail of Rain’s makes Mountain freeze and look over Phantom’s shoulder at his face, searching for what caused him the hurt. Nothing, it turns out.

“T–tentacle,” Rain whimpers in explanation and squeezes his eyes and the earth ghoul gets it. He looks behind himself to see that Rain’s cock decided it’s bored and that it’s the perfect time for it to slip inside his ass and help the other two ghouls to get him to cum. “Oh fuck.”

Mountain knows as well as anyone that Rain’s little friend loves to be a menace.

He pushes his clit back into the water ghoul’s gills and humps him in quick little thrusts, moaning at the bursts of cold air on his sensitive flesh as Rain breathes. His gills are cold and slimy and tight, and not a lot of things feel tight on Mountain’s cock—he’s losing his mind.

Rain squeezes his hand, moaning as his own tentacle and the two ghouls fuck the living shit out of him while all he can do is just lay there and take it. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Phantom whimpers above him as he’s rutting against his neck and with great effort the water ghoul looks up at him. He looks absolutely blissed out and that little crease between his eyebrows is positively one of the cutest things he has ever seen.

Rain wiggles his free hand from where it got trapped under the quintessence ghoul’s knee and shoves it between his legs, parting them to get to his cunt. It’s sopping wet with his slick and Rain’s own cum and he can’t help but blindly scoop some up and shove it back inside with three fingers.

The quintessence ghoul whines and his legs shake as he’s still doing his very best to fuck Rain’s gills properly. His clit isn’t long enough to choke him, but it’s fat enough to stretch the delicate slits on his neck and that in itself makes the water ghoul’s brain leak out of his ears.

Once again Mountain seems to be jealous. Just a healthy amount. He all but pouts as he whines, looking down at Rain and squeezing his hand to get his attention. He’s absolutely adorable when he's so needy.

“Petal, gimme…” he begs. “Feelin’ empty like that.”

“Oh, baby,” Rain coos, concealing the smirk that’s pulling on his lips. Somehow; he’s barely still coherent. He uncoils his tail from around Phantom’s middle and wraps it again around Mountain’s. Loosely, so the tip of it can dip between his cheeks and rub between his soaking wet folds before plunging inside to fill him up. The earth ghoul cries out and hunches his shoulder against the added stimulation.

Out of nowhere Phantom whips his head around and throws an arm around Mountain, desperately trying to bring himself closer without pulling out of the tightness of Rain’s gills. The earth ghoul leans forward and smashes his face against the other’s in something that could barely be called a kiss. They lick at each other sloppily for a while, until a jab of Rain’s fingers inside Phantom makes him jolt and straighten back up.

The water ghoul would also demand a kiss from him, but even with Phantom’s bendiness it wouldn’t be possible. He’ll get all the kisses and more later. For now, Rain is satisfied with staring at Phantom—into his eyes.

As he does, he remembers his summoning day. It was a horrid sight. Smell and noise, too, it all went so wrong, even though, apparently, the ritual itself was the least of the young ghoul’s problems that day.

Rain was terrified, then, frozen against the cold stone wall as he watched with wide eyes as the mauled, barely alive ghoul literally crawled his way out of the Pit. Phantom probably doesn’t remember that, but it was the water ghoul who his eyes fell onto first. Or rather one eye, because the other was shredded and so his eyelid was shut. They saved it—Aether and Omega—but it remains blind; a milky white with a purple crack going right through the middle of it.

Still beautiful.

Rain tells him as much and watches the blush on his cheeks deepen impossibly.

So, so beautiful.

From the moment Rain’s fear for his life dissipated that day, he knew that he was going to take care of that broken little thing, that he was going to show him what safety and love means.

Looking at him now, he considers himself successful.

Phantom holds onto the headboard in front of him and the earth ghoul’s thigh behind him as he fucks Rain’s gills and rides his fingers at the same time and the water ghoul can’t get enough of him. His mouth feels dry and he’s worrying his bottom lip between his sharp fangs when an idea sparks in his foggy brain.

“Bat–batsy, come on,” he mumbles, pulling his fingers out of him and freeing the other hand of Mountain’s grip. The earth ghoul grumbles at it, but he’ll get a reward soon enough. Rain paws at Phantom’s thighs clumsily, scratching him some with his glamored claws as he tries to pull him forward.

The quintessence ghoul is confused for a moment, but when Rain lolls his tongue out and looks at him pleadingly it starts to make sense. Phantom grunts and fulfills the other’s request by settling himself over his face. Slick and cum drip from his cunt in fat drops right into the water ghoul’s mouth. He moans at the taste, tips his head back and pulls at his thighs to make him sit down.

Phantom is strong, but his legs have been shaking for a while now. He drops down concerningly hard, but Rain doesn’t seem to mind. The quintessence ghoul doesn’t have the time to worry about it either, when the other immediately plunges his tongues deep inside and starts to fuck him with it.

The quintessence ghoul leans back against Mountain and moans pathetically as Rain eats him out like a man starved, licking his own cum out of him. The earth ghoul keeps fucking Rain’s gills, but he manages to hook his chin over Phantom’s shoulder once again, to look down at how his clit twitches with every move of the water ghoul’s tongue.

He’s drowning in slick and Mountain can feel on his cock when he starts to breathe through his gills more. Rain’s nose nudges Phantom’s clit with every little roll of his hips, following the same rhythm that the water ghoul moves his tongue in, and if Mountain thought noises that were spilling out of him earlier were sweet, these are pure sugar; truly a music to his ears.

The earth ghoul feels something leathery on his stomach and when he looks down he sees it’s Phantom’s little tail wriggling against him, as if desperately trying to wrap itself around his waist in the typical affectionate ghoulish fashion. It’s too short, though, barely a half of what a normal quintessence ghoul Phantom’s age and size would have—and probably have had before the attack—and Mountain’s heart breaks.

He reaches down to caress the adorably eager little thing before prompting it to wrap around his forearm. Phantom doesn’t even notice, not really, but a happy chirp breaks out of him in between the moans pulled from him by Rain when the comfort of having his tail wrapped around a part of a ghoul he loves registers in his brain.

The soft moment is perfect, but it doesn’t last long—getting concealed by Rain bringing Phantom closer and closer to the edge. Mountain looks over his shoulder again, not being able to resist staring at how blissed out the water ghoul looks drowning in pussy.

Soon enough the quintessence ghoul’s claws dig into Mountain’s thigh and a sinful noise falls from his lips as he cums with a shudder, soaking Rain’s face, neck and chest. The amount of slick glistening on his steel blue skin makes the earth ghoul’s head spin and it takes no more than a few clumsy rolls of his hips and a burst of cold air on his clit as Rain gasps to throw him over the edge, too.

He goes rigid, squeezing the water ghoul’s middle with his muscled legs and moaning wantonly. Phantom falls back against him and the two of them might be crushing Rain under them a little, but he doesn’t complain. Quite the opposite, actually—his mouth hangs open in a groan as he takes in the debauched image above him and feels his tentacle wriggle inside himself. His orgasm crashes into him just a second later and a single tear of positive overwhelm rolls down his flushed cheek.

All three of them sag and flop down right where they are and they don’t move for a longer while, too worn down to even make a muscle twitch—just lying with their limbs all tangled together in a sweaty pile of content, fucked out ghouls. Phantom either passes out or falls asleep for a moment, because the next thing he knows is Mountain hanging above him stroking his cheeks with a soft smile on his face. Rain is nowhere to be seen.

“You did so good for us, honey,” the earth ghoul praises between kisses he’s peppering all over Phantom’s exhausted body now, wherever he can reach. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Rain disappear into a bathroom. He blinks slowly and tries his best to focus his gaze on Mountain and to smile at him. He manages—although rather goofily, making the other giggle. “You’re so adorable, iris.”

Phantom trills at the attention and scrunches his nose up at the other. He chuckles as he brings a bottle of water to his lips and cradles the back of his head, helping him take a few sips. It doesn’t take long for him to give in to the compelling urge that’s pulling his eyelids back down. Distantly he hears some shuffling and Rain and Mountain exchanging a few words. He also feels a warm, wet cloth being run all over him, cleaning him up with all the care in the world as he dozes off.

“I’lov’y’both,” he slurs, half asleep already. He thinks he hears chuckles in response, and maybe he feels some more soft kisses on both his cheeks.

The quintessence ghoul isn’t entirely sure of what happens then, but the pleasant warmth and a sound of happy content purring all around him must mean he’s engulfed in the others’ arms. He wraps his sore arms around a soft body next to him and clings to it with all his might, even though he knows they’re not going anywhere.

He finally knows.

When he does finally fall asleep it’s with a smile—knowing he is safe and loved as a part of a one of a kind family, and that no harm will befall him ever again.

A few hours later, when Dewdrop comes in to check on them and leave more water bottles and some snacks on the nightstand, he sees the whole bed and all three ghouls glowing faint purplish blue in the darkness. He smirks, noticing that the light is most concentrated where Phantom has his thigh hooked over Rain’s hip. And on Rain’s face, for some reason.

They had fun, then. Clearly.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #hypnone's commissions #gill smut

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all-mirth-no-matter · 1 year

Text

Time After Time | Chapter Ten

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Madam Despoina gives you a little more insight, as well as a significant gift.

Warning: language, alcohol, smoking, ethnic slur

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 10: Curses

This tired old machine is a-rumbling (oh my, oh my). Singing songs to the secrets behind my eyes (oh my, oh my). All my aching bones are trembling, and I may yet fall apart. Won’t you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart? Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust. The devil’s after both of us. Oh, lay my curses out to rest, make a mercy out of me. — Curses, The Crane Wives

“His name was Dimitris.”

You frowned at Madam Despoina’s first words to you after she entered the caravan.

“May I sit?”

Instead of replying, Tommy moved to grab the chair against the wall and sat it next to the fireplace, offering his hand to assist her down.

The old woman thanked him as she sat, lifting her head back to you. Her worn voice was solemn, tired even, as she went on.

“Dimitris joined my camp some odd years ago, having traveled from the old country. For most of his time with us, he was a good man — hard worker, good soldier, did what he was told. Recently, he became more aggressive. First it was with the women, then fighting amongst the men. When I discovered that he’d been selling information and stealing… well, I displayed a lapse in judgment with my punishment. He was banished, with a threat of death if he returned. Apparently, he still has friends in the camp. They informed him of your arrival, of your importance. I believe he snuck in during the bustle of preparation—”

“He escorted us into the camp,” Tommy pointed out, interrupting. “He escorted us to your wagon.”

The Madam’s face remained unchanged, her eyes not leaving yours while addressing Tommy.

“A breech that I am investigating with serious severity, Mr. Shelby, I assure you.”

“He dead?” His question made your gaze move from her to him, causing you to inhale sharply.

What the hell had your life become where conversations about gypsy fortune telling and gangster murders had become just another Sunday night?

Tommy’s eyes flicked to yours before returning to the Madam’s. For an insecure moment, you wondered if he considered you weak for your reaction.

“When we find him, he will be.”

The woman’s reply felt like cold water as you realized the creep was still out there. Her eyes softened as she held on to your gaze.

“I apologize, mikrí mou màntissa. This was not what I envisioned for our meeting.”

You swallowed the irony, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “May I ask — what did he want from you?”

You took a deep breath before shrugging. You had no idea how long ago the event had occurred, could have been an hour or ten, either way you just wanted to push it as far from your brain as possible. It didn’t help that you were on the tail end of your buzz — that and the adrenaline (and your newfound ability to disassociate and compartmentalize) made the memory feel fuzzy.

“Um, well,” you began, speaking for the first time since the Madam entered the caravan. “Originally he thought I was Anastasia Romanov,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you said it.

Tommy’s brow creased, “Who?”

You missed the way Madam Despoina watched you answer his question.

“The Romanovs? The Russian royal family that was just killed like—” you paused as your brain tried to do the quick math. “Holy shit that was just this year,” you muttered to yourself, though the other two in the room could certainly hear you.

“We heard somethin’ about that in France. A revolution, ya?” Tommy pondered, reaching into his jacket pocket on the hanger to grab a cigarette while shrugging — as if hearing one of the biggest historical events ever was just no big deal. “Who was she, exactly?”

Realization of just how disconnected you were from the rest of the world began to set in. You’d been here for more than three months, and the only real news you’d been privy to had been the war end. And that was only because Ada had shoved the newspaper in your face.

You made a mental note to start saving enough to purchase newspapers when you got back into the city. If you were going to be here, you wanted to know what was going on.

“She was a daughter of the tsar,” the Madam answered for you. “A princess. When the family was taken to be executed, it was rumored that the princess escaped.”

You nodded, “Creep-o said he thought that’s who was coming to the camp when Madam Despoina said they had special company.”

The Madam hummed her understanding. “We’ve often had queens and princesses come to bargain for good fortune. Dimitris thought you were the princess.”

“He said he knew I wasn’t Russian though due to my accent. I may have implied with my tone that he was an idiot for believing the rumor… he didn’t like that.” You grew angry at the memory of him grabbing you, instinctively wrapping your own arms around yourself. “Still, he said that you thought I was someone important. That he could use me somehow to make him money.”

Somehow was beginning to feel a lot like selling as you said the words out loud. The words sat bitterly at the tip of your tongue as your anger began to bubble.

“What did he think he was going to get away with, huh? Kidnapping me and holding me hostage? Handcuffing me to a table and forcing me to give seances? The nerve—“ you fumed as you grew lost in your own imagination. “What psychopath thinks he can do that? I can’t even tell fucking fortunes! I’m not important! I can’t—“

The tears surprised you as your anger began to catch in your throat. This was the second time today you’d began to cry out of frustration, exhaustion, everything. And you hated yourself even more for it.

You felt weak again.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to control your breathing, and suddenly you felt two hands cradling your face. Expecting to see Madam Despoina, who’d been sitting closer to you, you were surprised when you opened your eyes to see it was Tommy who was kneeling in front of you, his own face inches from yours.

You felt ashamed again for your weakness, dropping your eyes and trying to push him away. But he held on to you and forced you to look at him again. You prepared to see disappointment or pity in his eyes, but instead you saw the same reassurance that you’d almost come to rely on in the depth of his crystal blues.

“That won’t ever happen,” he said confidently. “You’re not a doll, remember? And you are strong. If the Delphi don’t find this fucker, the Peaky Blinders will. Either way, you’ll never see him again, you understand me, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, the tears no longer falling as he wiped what remained off your cheeks.

“I have a second reason for coming by,” Madam Despoina’s words broke the spell between you and Tommy, who stood up and resumed his original position between you two women and the doorway. She reached inside her baggy skirt pocket and pulled out a small wooden box, extending it to you. “I wanted to offer you this gift.”

Your brow furrowed as you took it.

In the Madam’s hands, it appeared to be an ordinary box. But when you ran your fingers across the edges and held it toward the light of the fireplace, you could just make out the intricate carvings. It reminded you of the inside of this caravan. On the lid of the box was the Delphi symbol — you couldn’t help the way your pointer finger moved from the trunk of the tree upward, through the branches and down one side of the circle, across the roots, and up the other side until you completed the path.

“It’s beautiful,” you couldn’t help but breathe out as you finally lifted the lid. Your brow furrowed again as you examined a pouch of leaves and small vile of water inside.

Madam nodded. “Boil some water and let the leaves soak, then pour in the water from the vile before drinking the entire cup.”

“Tea? You want me to make tea?” You looked between her and the box. “Um, why?”

She smiled. “My gift. It’s one final conversation with your mother.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, the words falling out absentmindedly, “What? You’ve got to be joking.” You looked down at the box suspiciously. “What is this then, drugs?”

“These are passed from our ancestry, they’re very valuable and once designated cannot be transferred to another. The water is from the original springs of Delphi, the leaves are from the gardens of the temple.”

“The leaves that gave the priestesses epilepsies?” you questioned, raising your brow as your suspicions were confirmed. “You want to drug me and pretend like whatever hallucination I might get is some divine vision from my dead mother?”

The woman gave you a smile, “You still disbelieve, don’t you, young girl?”

You set the box down on the bed next to you and shook your head. “I mean no disrespect, Madam Despoina—“

The old woman lifted swiftly from her seat and reached for your hand. Out of surprise and instinct, thinking she must have fallen, you jumped off the bed and squeezed her hand, matching her firm grip with your own.

The room flashed white. The Madam before you was all you could see, but as your eyes adjusted, your vision began to shift.

Her face — it began to change. You recognized the woman’s face, something ancient and beautiful, with eyes that glowed that brilliant gold you’d seen in your dreams. Another flash, and the face began to morph into so many faces, one after the other. Hundreds of women, all unrecognizable and yet something familiar pulled at your gut.

Suddenly the shifting stopped as you saw your mother’s face. You gasped, taking a step forward before your mothers face morphed again. This time, your foot moved backwards as you looked upon your own reflection.

Snapping your hand out of the old woman’s hold, your vision cleared. You were catching your breath as you found the familiar brown eyes of Madam Despoina, the caravan surrounding you again, a knowing smile pulling at her cheek.

Your eyes found Tommy’s, who had taken a few cautious steps toward you both and was looking at you concerned. “You okay?”

“I saw— I, I thought I saw—“ you breathed out, your eyes moving back to the Madam as you held your hand to your chest.

“Drink the tea. Talk with your mother. She will be able to tell you now what she could never before.”

She turned to leave before stopping. When she turned back to you, she reached out for your hand again. You flinched at her touch, expecting the same thing to happen again, but nothing did.

“During these winter times, our camp retreats back to our home ground to prepare for the cold. We drink and dine as is tradition during these darker and colder months until it is time to travel again. But this year I knew we had to wait — that we were waiting for you.”

She squeezed your hand as she held yours between both of hers.

“Today I have felt closer to our god than I have in many years. I had nearly forgotten what his light felt like, but with you, I can feel his warmth again. Won’t you stay?”

“We can’t,” Tommy answered for you, his voice stern. “We promised we’d be back ‘fore Christmas Eve.”

In the back of your mind, you knew that was a lie. Tommy had already told you he’d prepared for you both to be gone for as long as a week’s time. But you didn’t dare question him now.

Besides, you felt as though her question wasn’t just a courtesy to stay tonight, or even for a few days. The question felt like an invitation — to stay with the Delphi family.

For a split moment, you considered her offer. You were already a time traveling fish out of water, and you’d bet money that she knew more than what she’d even revealed tonight. Maybe you were here to find them — maybe this is where you were meant to be.

But your eyes instinctively looked to Tommy at the thought, and your chest tightened.

Maybe it was a mistake, but that stupid part of your brain or hormones or whatever it was controlling you couldn’t leave Birmingham.

The Shelbys.

Tommy.

Madam Despoina hummed an understanding, her eyes watching your internal struggle. “Then you should leave now. There are some here who are under investigation of helping Dimitris, and it may not be as safe as I’d have wished for you here.” Her eyes dropped in shame.

“If you thought we may be in danger, why would you ask for me to stay?”

“I’m an old woman, mikrí mou màntissa.” She repeated the foreign words again, and her soft smile made you sense they were a term of endearment. “Sometimes I’m more selfish than I’m proud of. I will see you again someday, Cassandra. Until then, remember what I told you —“

“Stay true to myself.”

“Aye. You will feel like you can’t use your second sight for fear of alteration, or alienation. But it will be your asset in the times to come. And it can save those around you, if you let it.”

She looked to Tommy then, whose brow creased at the conversation.

The Madam smirked. “Our god is closer to you than you think.” Her attention moved back to you. “Listen to your mother. Break the cursed chain.”

She turned again to leave.

“Wait,” you stepped forward as she paused. “Why are you giving me this now? You told me before that it wasn’t the time. What’s changed?”

Madam Despoina let out a humored hum. “You’re not the only one who gets visions, love.” At the doorway, she stopped and turned to Tommy. “Remember what I told you as well, Apollon.”

With that, she left the caravan.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair as he let out a breath. “We’re leaving. We’re gettin’ in our wagon and gettin’ the fuck out of this nut house.”

He began to get dressed, throwing on his gun holster over his shoulders before putting on his jacket.

Your brain was processing the name Madam had called Tommy. “She called you—“

“Get dressed,” he instructed, ignoring you and handing you the bag and your shoes before grabbing the rest of his clothes.

You pulled out one of the clean skirts and pulled it over your nightgown. You grabbed your jacket and threw it around you before shoving your feet into your shoes. Stuffing the rest of your items in your bag, you gingerly picked up the box Madam Despoina had given you and set it on top before latching it closed.

Tommy returned, offering you his hand to lead you out of the caravan and through the dark, clutching the bag close to your chest. The wagon came into view, Johnny Dogs hustling to secure Midnight.

“Tommy, she called you—“

He shushed you, his eyes flashing down at you before making a quick scan around you both. “Not now.”

You huffed. “Never now.”

“Soon,” he reassured, giving your hand a squeeze before jumping in the back of the wagon while Johnny appeared at your side. “All clear?”

“Aye, Tom,” Dogs replied. His usual jovial vibe was gone tonight, serious as he addressed his friend.

“Good. Up ya come,” Tommy offered you his hand as he stood in the wagon.

Your brow furrowed, expecting to sit with him in the drivers seat like you had earlier.

“There’s a bed in here, and some blankets. It’s the middle of the night and you’ve had a long day. You already fell asleep once today, I don’t need you fallin’ over on the drive back.”

Your instinct was to fight back, prove him wrong. Before you could reply, he squatted closer to you.

“I won’t have you sitting like a fuckin’ target in case we run into trouble on the road. I don’t expect it, but I’m a cautious man, ‘member? Get in the wagon, and let me keep you safe.”

“She called you Apollo,” you whispered, looking between his eyes.

It felt like you were standing in a room with thousands of puzzle pieces, and every time you thought you’d found a connection, thought you’d gotten a handle on the full picture, a new piece would pop up and throw you off your track again. You felt like you were slowly losing your mind.

He softened his look, grabbing your hand and lifting you into the wagon. You let him walk you toward the front before gently pushing you down onto the small mattress pad. “Rest. Once we’re safe, you can explain to me why.”

You swallowed as he stood back up and climbed through the front flap of the wagon and sat on the bench. Johnny Dogs wished you a small farewell and you gave him a sympathetic smile before he secured the back of the wagon.

Despite everything that’d happened to you tonight, you’d enjoyed the man’s company and hopped to see him again. If Tommy allowed.

You could see Tommy settling in his seat from your spot, grateful for the secured tarp on the side your head rested against to cut the cool night air as the wagon began to move forward.

The wheel hit a bump, causing your bag to jump against your leg. You picked it up and secured it against you, not wanting anything to happen to the box inside.

The box filled with the magic drugs, that is.

What were the chances that the leaves and water in that box were actually from the Temple of Apollo in Greece? Was it old? New? There’s no way something like that could have survived all this time, and there was definitely no way that if it had, someone would just hand it over to a complete stranger for nothing.

And the flashes that you saw — was it the drinks you had tonight? You had a hard time believing that the woman you just left would have you drugged without your knowledge — but the cynical side of you, the cautious side as Tommy might say, couldn’t exclude the possibility entirely.

No, you shook your head, trying to reason your way out of that thought. Why would a woman who already had you drugged offer you more drugs and tell you what they were? If she’d done it once, what was stopping her from doing it again without your knowledge? She could have made the tea herself and fed it to you easily at any point during the night. But instead she gave it to you in pieces, as a gift, and told you exactly what it was (more or less - you still weren’t entirely convinced).

So if you weren’t drugged, then you had to have just been ole fashioned drunk.

You shook your head at yourself again, getting more comfortable on the mattress until you were laying down, the wagon wheels continuing to move along underneath you.

Nothing like that had ever happened to you after a night of drinking before. And there were definitely nights you’d been way drunker than you had been tonight.

The only time you’d seen visions like that before, with the white flash and everything, was the night you traveled back and saw Tommy in the mud.

But why Tommy? was the last question you asked yourself before your eyes began to drift closed and you wrapped the blanket around yourself.

And why did Madam Despoina call him Apollo?

——

“Cassandra.”

Your god reached out to you, his once ice blue eyes had now returned to their brilliant gold, his look was full of concern.

“You just said—“ your breath was short at the previous feeling of dread as you grasped at the front of your dress to steady your heart.

He cupped your face with his hand, “I said that I didn’t expect to fall for you, Cassandra.”

No, you thought. There was rage, there was anger. He said he cursed you… didn’t he?

But as you looked up at him now, the face you saw was the same face you’d been gazing upon night after night. You hadn’t intended to fall for the palace gardener. The first night you’d come out here was the day you pledged your allegiance to priesthood. You’d sought solace, a place to sit with your thoughts to ensure that you were making the right decision.

The gardener had surprised you, his voice soft and kind as he asked if you were okay. After that, you’d come to rely on the man as a confidant. Eventually, you were spending most of your day awaiting the hours until you could see his sweet face again.

But now, everything was different. He wasn’t a man at all — he was a god. He was your god, confessing his affection for you.

And yet still, you touched your lips at the memory of his cold blue eyes, his angry words, his curse.

His brow creased as you pulled your face away, turning back to the garden ledge as you looked out to the sea. Your eyes focused on the horizon line, where you saw ships sailing toward your kingdom. Thousands of ships - an armada. They were racing forward, growing closer and closer to the shoreline, launching hundreds of arrows into the air.

“We’re under attack!”

You turned back toward your lord and pointed, but he only shook his head. “There’s nothing out there.”

Whipping your head back toward the sea, your eyes searched for the sight of the ships, but they were gone. The seas were calm once again.

“But—“

An explosion caught your attention, pulling your gaze back down toward the square of the city. It was on fire — people were screaming, children crying. Men in foreign armor raced through the streets on horses, swinging swords and axes, killing your citizens.

You blinked — they were gone.

‘You’re cursed, Cassandra! You’re cursed!—‘

“Y/N!”

You jumped at the shout, turning to find Harry standing at the end of the bar with his arms crossed.

“I don’t pay ya to daydream. We’ve got a packed ‘ouse now snap out of it.”

“Sorry, Harry.” You flushed at your absent mindedness, picking up the rag and moving to give the counter a good swipe before heading toward the first man with his arm reached forward.

But through the monotony of the job, your mind couldn’t help but wonder back toward your dream in the wagon.

Tommy had woken you up the same as he had on the drive to the camp. Clinging to his arms, you found yourself gasping for air and your cheeks damp from tears. Embarrassed once again for waking up in a panic, you began to wonder if you’d ever have a normal night’s sleep ever again.

Despite the nightmare, you’d somehow managed to sleep through most of the drive back into town. You rode up front for the remaining drive back while Tommy hit you with the realities of going back into society.

“There’s something we need to discuss before we get back to Small Heath,” Tommy had started in his serious voice. “Only Polly knows where we truly went yesterday. Arthur, John, and Ada know a version of the truth — they know we were lookin’ for a gypsy clan that might have had some of your last surviving family members, but we’re gonna tell ‘em we were unsuccessful in our journey. That they were supposed to be outside the fairground, but they were nowhere to be found, so we came back and you decided to give up the search. Got it?”

You had nodded. “And Polly? What are we going to tell her?”

“That’s up to you,” he surprised you with that response. “But one thing I want to make clear. That we saw Johnny Dogs and what was discussed with him will be told to no one, ya?”

“Can I ask why?” You threw the question out as a tester — it wasn’t a no to his confirmation, but you were curious if he’d shut you down or trust you.

Tommy didn’t respond right away, staring straight ahead at Midnight pulling the wagon forward. You swallowed, ready to admit defeat, when Tommy cleared his throat.

“Most of what we do is illegal. To make any real money, to gain any real power, we need to expand into some legitimacy. It’s the only way to break out of Birmingham.”

“And Billy Kimber has something to do with that?”

Slowly, Tommy nodded. “Think so. Still working out the details, but it starts with Johnny Dogs. That’s all I’m willin’ to say now.”

You thought about the words exchanged between the two men, about what Tommy said on Saturday about domination. You wondered if his ambition extended further than just working with the racetrack owner, or if he wanted to control it.

Tommy didn’t seem like a man who limited his ambitions.

“Got it. Not a word, then.”

You paused, contemplating what you were going to say next and deciding to just go with it. What the hell, right?

“I still think you should look into running alcohol into America. The probability of a prohibition is higher than you’re estimating.”

“Thought you said you weren’t a fortune teller,” Tommy rose his brow up as he looked at you. Beneath you, the dirt roads had transitioned into cobblestone, indicating an end to your ride.

You’d shrugged, “I’m not. I’m just a woman on your payroll, who sometimes knows things, offering you business advice.”

Tommy watched you for a moment more, but chose not to push you on it further. Neither of you said anything as he made his way to your doorstep. You’d mentioned wanting to change and then head over to the Garrison, hopping to mend the nagging feeling you had of Harry being angry with you and offering to work a shift that evening.

“I’ll see you later then,” Tommy had said as you turned to leave, watching as you clung to your bag and ascended the stairs.

To his promise, Tommy walked through the doors of the Garrison some odd hours later, an entourage of men behind him. Harry hustled to shoo people out of the snug before escorting the men into the private room.

This had been a part of the deal Tommy had made with Harry, apparently. The Garrison was not only protected by the Peaky Blinders, but now it was officially the pub of choice for the gang. That meant that any time a Peaky boy was in the premises, the snug had to be available. It also meant that anything a Shelby man ordered was on the house, no questions asked.

Tommy still dropped a coin at the snug window when he asked for a bottle of whiskey and six tumblers.

“Irish or Scotch?” You asked, a smirk playing at your lips as you watched him attempt to stop his own smile.

Without his response, you grabbed the Irish Whiskey and glasses, circling the bar and turning into the private room. Tommy was taking his seat as the men around him grabbed for the cups, Arthur electing to grab the bottle and open it. He poured himself a shot first, then Tommy, then John, before passing it to the other three in the room.

You vaguely recognized the three non-brothers from the betting shop, and part of you wondered if any of them were the book men you audited as you began to wipe down the table.

Arthur was patting John on the shoulder, sounding already drunk as he went on about the boy finally getting out of that house. You took a quick look at John, who looked tired as he mumbled something about the kids driving him mad.

You smiled at that, silently wondering if John being out meant that Martha was starting to feel better. You made a note to ask Tommy about her later as you asked aloud if anyone needed anything else.

“That’ll be all, Y/N,” Tommy answered for everyone.

You gave a friendly smile, eyes scanning the room before landing on one of the non-brothers, who was watching you quite intently. As a barmaid, you were either invisible or the subject of lustful attention, so a part of you was used to the creepy looks and just bid your time until the man either hit on you or lost interest. Not expecting this kind of attention here, with Tommy around, you felt caught off guard. Awkwardly, you nodded and left the room, leaving the doors open behind you.

Some time passed as you worked the room, the crowd slowly beginning to lessen as the night went on. You were working on the pub books, taking advantage of the lull, when the man who’d been watching you from the snug approached the bar.

“You’re Ada’s friend, ya?”

You couldn’t stop the quick look through the snug window, noticing that the other Peaky boys were still in there, working on their second bottle. “Um, yeah,” you answered, offering him a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Need something?”

“Ya, a mild.”

Trying to control your annoyed face at having to pause your book work — seriously, there was no way you could ever leave Harry in charge of the books ever again — you rose from your seat to prepare his drink. You could feel him watch you as you worked.

“I’ve seen ya round the Shelby house with Ada and Ms. Polly. I work there, with the boys. Names Benji.”

Benji — you recognized the name as one of the bookkeepers at the betting shop. He was one you’d been suspicious of for a while now.

The first couple big offenders of stealing from the shop had disappeared some time after you brought them to Polly’s attention. At the time, your innocent mind believed they’d just been fired and moved on — but now you knew better. The chances that those men were still breathing were slim.

With Benji’s records, his error rate decreased after the first few men were outed, and you always suspected that he was biding his time before he began to steal again. You just had to wait until you had more evidence.

For a paranoid moment, as Benji’s eyes scanned you over, you wondered if he knew about your secret employment. He was a Peaky boy, after all. He lifted his hand over the bar counter as an offering when you set his drink down.

“Y/N,” you offered out of ceremony, your smile still not quite genuine as you shook his hand.

“Y/N,” he repeated, donning his own smile as he looked at you again appreciatively. He wasn’t unhandsome, so you imagine that smile worked on most girls. But after what happened to you last night and your suspicions about his bookkeeping, you felt yourself taking a step back out of caution. “Next time you’re in the shop, say hi.”

You watched as he took his drink and swaggered back into the snug. Part of you was slightly surprised at his boldness. You were a friend of Ada’s — his employer’s sister. Plus, you and Tommy—

You scoffed at yourself. You and Tommy what? You weren’t a couple — you didn’t think so, anyway. He hadn’t gone to kiss you, or even offer to walk you to your apartment door when he’d dropped you off. What’d happened last night before Madam Despoina interrupted had been… hormones. A mixture of adrenaline, alcohol, and an attempt to grasp onto some kind of sanity after a series of crazed events.

He hadn’t spoken of the moment since — hell, he hadn’t spoken of any of it since, something that was also making you anxious.

Out of instinct, your eyes moved to the window of the snug where you could see Tommy sitting comfortably in his chair. As if feeling your gaze, his own eyes moved to meet yours. You jumped slightly, feeling as if you’d been caught, and proceeded to go back to checking on the other patrons in the room.

You’d settled back to working on the inventory, almost finished when the Peaky boys loudly made their exit of the pub. Surprised, Arthur shouted a drunken goodbye to you, even using your name as he waved and stumbled out the doorway with his arm around John. Benji turned and gave you a wink before following the group out the door. Tommy stood back, watching the whole thing before walking over to the counter.

“What was that about?” He asked, gesturing over his shoulder to the doorway.

“What? Arthur saying goodbye? Not sure, but it’s a big improvement over him calling me a whore or just grunting at me—“

“Not Arthur, Hancock.”

Your brow creased. “Who?”

“Benji,” he added, and you realized Hancock must be his last name. Tommy poured the last of the bottle into his drink.

You stood up from your seat again and walked over toward Tommy, taking a scan of the room. There were only two young men in the corner finishing up their last round, but you still kept your voice low. “Who knows about me?”

It was Tommy’s turn to furrow his brow. “‘Dya mean?”

“My job, at the house.”

Tommy nodded, understanding. “Just immediate family — me, Pol, Arthur, John, and Ada.”

“And before you guys returned?”

He shrugged, “Just Pol and Ada, I believe. What’s this about?”

“I was just paranoid, I guess. I thought for a moment Benji may have suspected me, but now I think he was just coming on to me.”

Tommy’s back straightened at your comment, lifting his glass for another drink. “And is that somethin’ that you want?”

“No,” you answered immediately, watching his shoulders immediately relax.

“Good,” he said softly, his eyes moving down to your lips. “Let me walk you home?”

You smiled at both his response and his request, wondering if maybe you were wrong about what exactly you and Tommy were.

“I can’t go until those two leave,” you said quietly as you gestured to the corner.

As if realizing for the first time that the two of you weren’t alone, he turned to the other guests. “Oi! Time to go!”

The young men jumped from their seats and scattered out the door. You couldn’t hold in your surprise at the immediate obedience.

It’s good to be the king, you found yourself quoting Mel Brooks in your head at the action, not yet confident enough to say your quip out loud. The thought still made you smile though, and you were again surprised when Tommy offered you a smile in return. You knew how rare a Tommy smile was.

“Fine, but I still have to put the book away and sweep the floors. Harry mentioned something about putting in an ad for another barmaid — I’m not about to further piss him off and have him replace me.”

Tommy scoffed. “I’ve seen the receipts, you practically saved this business. He’d be a fool to replace you.”

Your pride swelled at the compliment as you lowered your head to hide your blush.

Luckily, it’d been a rather tame night, so your cleanup was minimum, allowing you and Tommy to leave soon after everything was put in order.

Tommy lit a cigarette as you locked the door, wrapping his coat around you tightly and cursing to yourself how right he’d been about it getting colder.

“Come to dinner tomorrow,” he said, breaking the silence on your walk. It didn’t sound like a question, but his gaze down toward you implied that he was waiting for a response.

“To your house?” You asked, curious if this was just a regular dinner or a date dinner.

He nodded. “Aye, Christmas Eve dinner with the family. Ada made me promise to ask.”

You deflated slightly at his follow-up. Was Ada’s insistence because Tommy didn’t actually want you there? God, listen to you — sounding like a pathetic teenager again overanalyzing everything your crush said.

“Okay,” you said instead.

“Good.”

He stopped and faced you when you got to your apartment. Gently, he lifted his hand and cupped your cheek, pulling your face upward until your lips met his. It was a soft kiss, but it still left you breathless as he pulled away.

“After dinner, when everyone’s distracted, we’ll talk, ya? About the dreams, about what Madam Despoina said, and about why when I was waking you up this afternoon you kept saying that you were cursed.”

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