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girasollake · 4 months

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Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

#imagine #x reader #🤍 - girasollake writing event ☾ ⋆*#theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott smut #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader

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hs-is-loml · 6 months

Text

You Know This. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader

Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)

Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED

a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)

all translations of french below

Chérie = darling

masterlist

19 years old

You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.

“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”

“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him.

“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?”

“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw.

“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach.

You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.

You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.

You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”

“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head.

"I'll never let you go."

20 years old

You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”

“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”

“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day.

Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?”

“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance.

“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation.

You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.

“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone.

“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him.

You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”

As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras.

“Who is she?”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!”

“They must be dating.”

“Charles! Over here!”

“Can you sign this for me please!”

You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.

“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction.

21 years old

“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.

“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.

“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.

“HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi.

You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags.

You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him.

“For them,” he told you tenderly.

“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment.

The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.

Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand.

“I love you,” he replied back.

22 years old

With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two.

“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.

You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes.

The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.

“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”

“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.

“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”

Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”

Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.

“Will you make carbonara?”

“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”

“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.

“YES!” he cheered out at your response.

“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.

“Or the muffins!” Alex added on.

“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.

24 years old

You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.

“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.

“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense.

“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”

“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.

"No one!" Carlos quipped.

"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.

"No, it's my sister..."

“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.

“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at.

“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”

A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.

You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.

at the circuit

“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."

You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”

He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”

“Prove what-”

You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”

“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.

“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies.

“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver.

Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando.

“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear.

“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.

“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.

“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.

“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room.

He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”

"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."

"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"

“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.

“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.

You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.

“This is not funny, Y/n.”

“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair.

You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”

You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”

“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.

“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.

You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”

He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further.

“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.

"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."

"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.

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luveline · 2 years

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue lunch break visits, rocky road ice cream, a too-big bouquet, and the rainbow connection.

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, tw talk of dying (and past lives)

𓆩❤︎𓆪

You're dozing against the back wall in the kitchen when Benny clears his throat. The grease back here while he's cooking tends to get pretty thick and you're tired to begin with. It's a recipe for nodding off.

Flinching into a proper standing position, you give your boss an apologetic smile. "What?" you ask, blinking hard.

"Your boy's here."

"My boy?"

"Curly hair, tattoos. Looks like he hasn't showered this week. Or any week, actually." Benny laughs, a chesty, self-satisfied chuckle.

You rush to his side, careful of the spitting hot grill, and follow his gaze out of the kitchen window. Eddie's about two seconds away from opening the glass door, clad in his smart work uniform.

"He's not my boy," you say.

Benny scrapes his spatula across the grill's bubbling surface and flips a burger. "If he's the reason you're tired today, you can consider him banned. He's ruining my best waitress."

"I'm your only waitress." The door opens. Eddie stops in the doorway and casts his gaze around the room. You hide behind the wall and fuss with your hair. "And no, he's not keeping me up. It's Junie." Isn't it always Junie? She's your baby and you adore her, but that doesn't mean she's getting any easier to handle. The terrible twos are persevering with a ferocity you can't quite withstand, or at the very least sleep through.

"He eating?" Benny asks.

"I'll go find out."

You wipe the oil from your nose and grimace as you walk out into the actual seating area of the diner. It's empty but for one person and Eddie, who grins when he sees you.

"Hey, sweet thing."

You try not to show how much you like being called 'sweet thing'. Your face must betray you somehow because Eddie's grin turns smug and he approaches until he's basically stepping on your toes.

"How's it hanging?"

You snort. "Benny asked if you're eating."

"What's today's special?"

"Cheeseburger."

He fixes your shirt collar. You can feel the warmth of his fingers and the cooler metal of a ring grace your throat. "Yeah, I'm eating."

You report back to Benny with his order and find the cook's already added two burgers to the grill. He points his spatula at the now grilled and constructed burger for Darren. If you hadn't taken it you'd still know who's it was; Benny's regulars are loyal to a fault. The same old guys come in here day in and day out, and they all want the same thing.

Quarter pounders.

You take it, twist around a childish Eddie trying to trip you up and deliver it to Darren, a frowny-faced farm-hand that Benny swears is a nice guy deep down. You've yet to dig far enough.

Eddie tries to trip you up again when you come back. You glare at him, stepping on his toes gently – more a threat than a real show of aggression – and disappear again through the kitchen door.

"So." Benny throws down a basket of fries before moving to the chopping board with a fresh tomato in hand. "He's your boyfriend?"

"Do we have to do this?" you ask, joining him at the chopping board. You try to snag a slice of tomato and are quickly tutted away.

"Is he?"

"No," you say, trying again for some tomato.

"Kid, if you don't wait."

You pout and set back on your heels.

The burgers sizzle. Benny throws a slice of cheese over Eddie's and lets it melt. Quicker than you can believe, Benny constructs two burgers and fills a red plastic basket with fries.

He offers them to you. "Lunch break."

Free food. You smile at him sheepishly and try to take them. He pulls his arms back.

"Wha-"

"If he's your boyfriend, you better tell me now."

"Benny, I don't know if you know this, but I'm an adult. Already got knocked up once."

"And where is he now?"

Chastised, you mumble, "He's not my boyfriend," and Benny finally hands over the food. He looks like he might try to ruffle your hair if you stick around, so you knock open the kitchen door with your hip and make a speedy exit.

"What's with the face?" Eddie asks as you sit, reaching for the hot plate balancing across your forearm.

"I think Benny just tried to give me a dad talk."

He laughs like this is the funniest thing he's ever heard. "Really? What did he say?"

You shake your head. That's not a bag of worms you're interested in delving into right now. Your brains too fried, and the food smells great. Your stomach aches with hunger.

"You want a coke?" you ask.

Eddie stands up. "I'll get them. Sit down, okay?"

You sit down and shove a greedy handful of fries into your mouth, turning in your seat to watch Eddie talk.

He leans over the metal ledge of the kitchen window. It's quiet enough to hear him laugh, hear him say, "No, sir," in a tone that borders sarcastic.

He wields a five dollar bill at Benny, who shoots him down.

"Put it in the Junie jar," Benny says.

"Junie jar?" Eddie questions, though he's smiling.

Your eyebrows furrow at the expression. You've never heard it either.

"I don't bother pretending she spends it on anything else."

"You got that right."

You flush with heat all the way to to the tips of your ears and turn back to the table before Eddie can catch you watching.

He throws himself into his seat like he's collapsed. The twin cokes in his hands upheave and then splash back into themselves, an impressive and ridiculous show of skill that makes you gasp.

"For you." He shoves a glass down next to you. The ice cubes clink.

"Thank you," you say, and don't waste any time digging into your food.

He squints at your eager eating, though he waits until you've taken the worlds biggest bite of your burger before he asks, "Hungry?"

You swallow before you mean to and have to take a big sip of your drink to avoid choking to death. "I didn't eat breakfast."

"How come?"

You can't take his concern. Your eyes drop this hand where it picks through fries, no rings in sight. He’d told you once he can’t wear them at work, because he gets really warm and the rings are costume jewellery. His hands look bare without them, but they’re very nice hands. You follow the stark line of a bone down from his knuckles and focus in on his simple wrist watch as you explain.

"It took me an hour to get her to finish a slice of toast this morning. I usually wouldn’t make her finish, but she's not eating well."

You don't have to say who. Eddie tips his head back to eat a handful of fries like a courtesan eating grapes, all grandness.

"Teething?"

"She has all her teeth already," you say. A laugh bubbles up, delighted at his suggestion.

"What do you think it is?"

You wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin and shrug. Eddie sees straight through your forced nonchalance.

"No, seriously. What do you think?"

"I don't know. Maybe she's gonna come down with the flu. She didn't sleep all night either, and…" You rub your tired eyes with the backs of your hands. "I don't know. I hope she's feeling better at pick up, but I doubt it."

"How are you feeling?" He says 'you' softly, almost crooning.

"Tired, Eds."

"I can see that."

The door opens and a breeze whips your ankles. You hide them further under the table and cringe when you kick Eddie straight in the foot. He only raises his eyebrow at you and kicks you back. "What's your problem?" he mumbles under his breath, smiling.

When the burgers are gone and there's only a couple of cold fries left, you and Eddie fall into conversation about tonight. He's finally playing a gig after months without one, and you're riddled with guilt.

"I wish I could come," you tell him, feeling gutted that you won't see him in action.

You wonder what he looks like on stage. Sometimes it's hard to coalesce the Eddie you know and the other Eddie, rocker Eddie. He's so sweet. The image of him on stage and sweating, rocking out, you can't summon it.

You clear your throat. "I'm sorry we can't."

Eddie shakes his head quickly, fingers playing with the chain around his left wrist. "Don't worry about it. Junebugs's gotta sleep. You gotta sleep."

You pick at your nails, shame-faced. If you were a good friend you'd go and see him perform, but you're a good mom so you can't. Maybe you could get a sitter… only you don't trust anybody to look after her. Not the way you would. And people can be evil.

Maybe I could take her to the Hideout, you think tentatively.

You couldn't. It's too loud, it's too rowdy. You're not sure they'd even let you in with a baby.

"Sorry," you say again, dropping your cheek into your palm.

Eddie doesn't smile. He turns his wrist, the back of his hand to the table and his palm open between you.

"Don't be sorry," he says. He watches your face and slowly, slowly, mischief creeps into his expression. "How about I give you a private show?"

Your breath catches in your throat.

"You and June've never heard me play. I could bring an amp. June can play drums. You'll sing."

His allocation shocks you out of your thoughts. "Why can't you sing?"

"What will you do, then? If I sing?"

You flounder.

He lifts his coke to his lips and smirks at your silence. "Exactly."

"Eddie, I can't sing."

He waves his hand at you rather than answer.

"I won't sing."

"Oh, you won't?" he asks, tone enough to make you cross your legs under the table. He rolls his eyes.

"No. Let Junie do it. She's always singing."

"And you'll-? What?"

You shrug. He imitates you, over-exaggerated enough to make you gasp a laugh.

“Is that supposed to be me?"

He ignores your question in favour of his own. "You'll do nothing. Typical."

"You're getting too big for your boots, Munson," you warn, sliding his plate on top of yours.

He stacks your empty glasses. The two of you stand and linger. He should go back to work. You should too.

"I'll come over tomorrow?" he asks finally.

"Okay." You look over him in his clean clothes and neater than usual hair and can't help smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow," you say quietly, opening your arms just slightly.

Eddie takes the hint and wraps his arms quickly around your shoulders, careful of the plates in your hand. He rubs them once, a good, grounding pressure across the breadth of your back. Your nose presses against his neck. He smells like aftershave and cigarette smoke and skin.

Before you know it he's pulling away, the end to an amicable embrace between friends. Almost disappointing, not quite what you want anymore, but a relief and a comfort all the same.

He chucks your chin. "Tell Junie I miss her."

"I will."

"Okay." He turns to walk away. "Bye, sweetheart," he shoots over his shoulder.

"Bye!" you call.

The door shudders in his wake. You stand there watching until Benny clears his throat pointedly and asks you to come and make some more coffee.

You rush through the rest of the day. You finish earlier than you should because Benny's in a gracious mood, thrusting your tip jar into your arms with a command to get some sleep. You promise you'll try your best and head out for the daycare.

Junie's asleep in a bean bag by the baby gate when you get there. You stop dead in your tracks. She has her shoes and coat on already, her backpack in her lap. You look up at the childcare worker in charge today, a nice lady called Deborah, quizzically.

"She's been like that for an hour. I'm sorry we couldn't keep her awake."

You pout at Junie. "Why she got her coat on?"

"She insisted. Screamed bloody murder. Think she was excited to see you," she says, smiling softly.

You smile in return. "Thank you, Deborah. Have a nice weekend.”

Deborah nods and disappears back into the play room. You open the baby gate with likely less dexterity than you should have as a mom and drop to your knees in front of the beanbag, careful not to make too much noise. You're wondering if you can carry her to the car without waking her up when her foot moves, then her arms. They fall to her side as her eyes open.

"Hey, baby," you say, feeling weirdly emotional. She looks so lovely and pretty, and if she's sick that's gonna pluck your heart strings (and cause a boat load of problems).

"Mommy," she mumbles, eyes bleary.

"That's me." You reach out to squeeze her little thigh. "My poor girl, what's the matter? Does your tummy hurt?" you ask carefully.

She blinks.

"Why're you sitting here all by yourself? You didn't want to play with Adrien? Or Lucy?"

When she doesn't reply you take her backpack and thread your hand through the strap, offering your open arms to her. She can barely sit up, her movements slow and sluggish.

"Here," you murmur, sliding your hands under her armpits and pulling her into your chest.

She finally smiles, hands bunched up at the collar of your shirt. You leave some room to look at her and she looks at you. You're surprised she's not whining or crying.

"Hey," you say again, amazed at her droopy smile. "You look like you've had a good day."

Her head drops forward. You think she's nodding, though that might be wishful thinking. You don't even know if toddlers can nod.

Of course they can nod, you think to yourself scathingly. I mean… can they?

And Junie isn't like most toddlers. She hasn't really done anything by the book. She meets milestones when she wants to, sometimes early, sometimes really, really late.

You pat her back, her nylon coat crinkly under your hand. "Ready to go home?"

You stand up with her clutched to your chest. Usually you'd have her say goodbye to Deborah or the other daycare workers but Junie doesn't look like she knows her own name right now. You frown at her and encourage her forehead against your chin, trying to gauge if she's a little warmer than usual.

"I missed you," you tell her honestly. You miss her every single day. "I want to know everything you did today. Do you remember what you did?"

Junie pushes against your chest with her hand as you walk out of the daycare centre and into the parking lot.

"Did you do… colouring? Or… building blocks? Did you sing?" you ask, grinning.

You cross the road, and when you look back she's staring at you, straight into your eyes.

"Hi," you say with a laugh.

Her hands rise to your face, fingers thankfully clean and warm against your wind-bitten cheeks. You slow, gazing down at her expectantly. She raises her chin as high as she can and smiles big.

"You want a kiss. I can tell," you croon smugly.

She kisses you. It's a little drooly as baby kisses always are, but it's the best thing that's happened to you all day. It's always so surprising when she initiates affection. That she loves you just as much as you love her.

You steal another kiss.

"Guess what?" you ask, reaching a hand to stroke a little baby hair back.

She says a word that isn't real. It sounds like 'mod'.

"It's payday today, which means…" You beam at her. "Ice cream!"

That grabs her attention.

Eddie can't believe it. "You had what without me?" he asks over the phone.

Junie herds your knees, arms around your legs and face turned to the TV. You stand slumped against the wall where your phone is plugged, curling the landline's coiled cord around your finger so Junie can't grab it.

"Ice cream," you supply helpfully.

His voice isn't easy to understand. The Hideout is a very loud place. Eddie's practically shouting down the line. "I can't believe it."

"It couldn't be helped. She needed to be tempted."

"Tempted! Has she eaten anything else?"

You look down at the girl in question and reach down to rub her back. "Oh yeah. She ate like, an entire bag of lays, one of the big ones. She still smells like honey barbecue."

"Nothing else?"

You sigh, that creeping, ringing thought edging in. You're a bad mom.

"I made her cereal, and celery sticks and sandwiches and little cut up peaches and- and she won't touch any of it," you say, like you're promising. Your tone begs to be believed.

There's a loud racket. Eddie shouts, "What did you say? I can't hear you!"

You repeat yourself. You miss the start of what he's saying, but you catch, "-not your fault! She's probably just having a moment. You remember when she kept throwing her bottle? She doesn't do that anymore."

You nod. "Yeah, maybe it's like that. She's figuring she has choices." Not the best timing for your kid to decide she's gonna get picky.

"Exactly! Or maybe she is sick. Does she look sick?"

You look back down at Junie and feel across her smooth forehead for the twentieth time today. "She doesn't feel warm."

"Good. I'm sure she-" You miss the rest.

"I can't hear you," you say with a small laugh. "I can hear the drum kit though. Are you going on soon?"

"I said, 'I'm sure she's fine.' And yeah, couple of minutes."

"Okay. Um. I'll let you go, then."

"Okay." A small gap where you think he's hung up, but then, "Can I talk to her?"

You bite back a smile. "Sure."

You kneel down. Junie looks a short fall from suspicion, though her arms quickly reach out for a hug.

"June, d'you wanna talk to Eddie?"

"Eddie?" she asks, turning to the door.

You catch her hand before she can walk away. "No, babe, on the phone."

You sit down flat with your legs crossed and encourage her to do the same. She doesn't not want to be encouraged, eyes still trained on the door.

"Baby," you say, though you're bringing the phone to your mouth as you do. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Okay, I'm gonna pass her the phone and you're gonna have to talk straight away, because she doesn't know how it works. Alright?"

"Yeah, alright. Bring on the junebug."

You press the phone to Junie's ear. She looks startled and then annoyed, shoulder hiking and head moving in like she might push it away. You can see the moment she realises Eddie is on the other side, her lips part and her eyes widen in wonder.

She listens for a while, flabbergasted. You think you might be able to hear his voice. Not what he's saying, but his bubbly baby tone.

"Eddie," she says suddenly. She looks at you, says a bunch of nonsense words and babbling punctuated by Eddie Eddie Eddie.

"Are you listening to him?" you ask, excited at her recognition.

She grabs the phone out of your hand and stares at it. You try to wrangle it back and put it back to her ear. She is not happy.

Hardly news that your toddler's mood may swing, you shove the phone between your head and your shoulder and wrap her up in your arms with a placating shush. She starts to cry regardless. You think they might be crocodile tears.

"Eddie?"

"Sweetheart, I gotta go, okay? I'm sorry if I upset June–"

"You didn't, you didn't, she–"

"– I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"– misses you, I think–"

"See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Good luck!" you say. The line's already dead. The dial tone makes your ear prickle.

You feel upset for a second. It's a mess of feelings. You're too tired to deal with any of them.

"Eddie?" Junie asks, hands pulling at the hem of her nightie.

"Just mommy," you say with a smile. The longer she looks at you the easier it gets. "You wanna go to bed and cuddle?"

She laughs and runs away from you.

"I'll take that as a no."

Eddie knocks the door and doesn't get an answer.

He pauses, a bouquet behind his back and his acoustic guitar heavy around his neck, a grocery bag hanging from the crook of his elbow. It's a very heavy grocery bag. He'd figured he has a lot of apologising to do this afternoon.

It seems like there's no one home to apologise to.

"Girls? It's me."

Still no answer.

"Eddie," he adds, like a loser.

He thinks he can hear small footsteps.

"Eddie!"

He laughs to himself. "Junebug? Where's mommy?"

"Hello?" you call finally.

"Hey, can you let me in?"

He keeps the flowers hidden firmly behind his back as you open the door. He hears the deadbolt, the chain slide free and then the regular old lock unlocking, and you pull the door open and suddenly he can't breathe. You look that pretty.

"Eddie!" Junie shouts, to his pleasure.

You grin brilliantly as he steps over the threshold.

Junie's arms are quickly around his legs. She's in a sweet blue dress and frilly socks looking almost as pretty as her mom does, hair neat and tidy, face pristine.

You're nearly matching her. You've a soft white shirt on, tucked into a simple blue skirt and a cardigan to match.

You barely stop to look at him, flitting back to the kitchen where you’ve brown paper bags upended, the fridge and freezer doors both wide open. "Sorry, I'm just putting the groceries away. How did the gig go? Did you rock the house?" You giggle to yourself.

Eddie wants to scream, you’re that endearing. “It went great. Awesome. Not sure I rocked the house, but it was metal.”

"Amazing! I- I'm sorry I didn't hear you, I was in my own head," you say as you go, stepping over toys and frozen peas and Junie's Muppet Babies backpack like a natural. He notices your small white socks and feels himself slipping that little bit further into a terrifying feeling.

He doesn't have time to tell you it's okay, or that he wishes you’d been at the gig, or to watch your step. Junies's babbling for his attention and he'd rather die than not give it to her, moving the grocery bag he has hanging from his hand over her head and tossing it toward the couch, where it lands and spills.

"Okay, June, I'm gonna pick you up," he says quickly, pulling the guitar over his head. He props it up by the open doorway, Junie tugging at his jeans the whole while.

"So demanding!" he teases, scooping her up to prop on his hip and unveiling the flowers at the same time.

You aren't looking. He nudges them towards her face and shakes them gently.

Junie can't decide what's more fun, the flowers or Eddie. She wraps her arms around his neck as best as she can but stares at the flowers with a dawning comprehension.

"What are these, baby?" he asks, holding them lower so she can see them all in view. They're mostly red. There's some whites too, big round roses among other flowers he can't name.

"Red," she says quickly. "White. Yellow, blue, green."

She's not right, there aren't any yellows or blues, but he can only blame himself for drilling them into her the way he had. She's showing off that she knows them all, and she deserves some praise.

"Good job! Red, white," he shakes the bouquet enough to reveal a few small pink ones, "pink flowers. They're pretty, don't you think? Pretty as you and mommy?" He hums to himself, patting her back thoughtfully. “Maybe not that pretty."

You're not listening. If you were he's not sure he could say it, not while you're looking like you do. You're always pretty, always, but right now he feels like he did the first time he saw you. Just gone.

Junie tells him something, a more factual tone and air about her. He rubs the top of her upper arm encouragingly, asking, "Is that right?"

"Do you want food?" you call.

He sets June down on her feet and she hates it until he wraps her hands around the bouquet's neck. "Can you give these to your mom for me? Please?" Junie stares at them. "For mommy," he adds, pointing at you where you're closing the cabinet door.

Junie, the tiny smarty-pants that she is, runs to you. Eddie's a coward for it, but he doesn't think he can give them to you himself under honest pretenses, doesn't think he could admit that he'd been thinking about getting you flowers for a while now. Much easier to have her give them to you.

You make a sound like you've swallowed a gasp and stare at them.

"They're nice, right? I saw them and I thought they'd make a good apology for last night."

You don't take them. You can't contain a smile, but you don't take them.

"I'm sorry if I made any trouble for you," he says tentatively.

You drop your hand on top of Junie's head. Your tone is warm, each word reassuring. "No, you didn't. She just… you know, she has a routine, and she loves when you come around. She missed you. That's not your fault."

"Okay, good. I missed her too. Nobody can jam out like she can.”

Junie whacks you in the thigh. Eddie's starting to think he did something wrong because you still haven't taken them from her, your eyes as unreadable as the way your hands move, rigid and curling.

You shake them out and finally take the flowers.

"Thanks, baby," you say. Then, looking at him. "Thank you."

"You can get me back," he says.

Shell shock turns to eagerness. "Yeah, anything."

He picks up the spilled groceries and brandishes them at you. In one hand is this week's dessert, a huge carton of rocky road ice cream, the fancy kind with big chocolate chips and fluffy marshmallows on top. In the other, a plastic jug of your favourite drink.

"Find room for these in the fridge?"

Since accepting them, you've yet to put down the flowers, holding them protectively to your chest as you take what he’s offering and carry them into the kitchen.

June runs full pelt at his legs and he doesn't hesitate to pick her up.

"You're so happy today!" he cheers, saccharine sweet as she burrows her little face into his collar. "Have you been having a good day with mom? I love your matching outfits."

You try to hide how the compliment affects you, face buried in the freezer. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that your freezer has ample room, you don’t need to look for space. and he can see the way your hand tightens around the bouquet. He loves how shy you've become lately over his compliments, no matter how small. It's worth the possibility of making a fool of himself to see you flustered.

Junie reports back on the day. Eddie listens intently for words he might understand but finds none.

He doesn't let this bother him, leaning against the counter behind so he can hold Junie low on his stomach to watch her expressions flicker, hands encapsulating her back. She looks happy, obviously, but she also looks very intent on something.

"Yeah?" he asks, tilting his head toward her knowingly. "Was the grocery store exciting? Did you do anything else?"

"Duckies!" she says.

"Duckies? You saw ducks?" he asks curiously, looking to you for confirmation.

You're still holding your flowers to your chest.

Junie chatters. "Duck, duck, duck."

"What's she talking about?" he asks, pulling her up enough for her head to rub against his chin.

"Oh, we went to the duck pond. She was obsessed," you say.

"Right, right. Can't say I blame her.”

"Trying to explain why they weren't yellow took some dedication."

Eddie smiles at you softly. "You can put them down, you know."

Your eyes flicker between him and the flowers. "I- nobody's ever got me flowers before. I don't know what I'm s'posed to do with them. I don't… have a vase."

He hadn't realised he'd be the first guy to get you flowers. It makes him wanna wrap you up and hug you, because how is it fair that a girl like you never got flowers? Not once?

"Shit," he says instead.

He flinches hard and looks at Junie. She's too busy with her hands in his hair to notice what he's said. He apologises anyways.

You roll your eyes. Eddie's relieved to see it's with obvious fondness, a funny lopsided smile to your lips.

"If she starts dropping s-bombs, you're the one who has to deal with it," you warn.

"I will.”

He takes a step toward you and you take a step toward him.

You hum and hold the flowers up to Junie as he had before. "Aren't these just something else? Look how pretty they are! Why don't you pick one, baby?"

Eddie shifts her onto the right side and you both watch her touch them, hands adorably careful as she feels the leaves between her fingers and pokes the fuzzy yellow centre of a flower with white, round petals.

"That one?" you murmur, pulling it out from the rest with the same adorable carefulness.

Junie accepts the flower and immediately shows it to Eddie, ecstatic.

“Yellow," she proclaims.

"And white," he says, ruffling the petals with his index finger.

She smells like talc and you, that soft jasmine perfume, and her hair is fragrant where it tickles his face. He indulges and hugs her that little bit tighter. She indulges him in turn and hugs him back, the flower petals cold and silky against his neck.

"How do you…" You scratch the base of your neck. "Do you think I could squeeze all the stalks into one glass?"

It's only a bunch from the grocery store but he thinks a glass might be a little too small. "Maybe you can split it? Have one in your room, one in here."

You set about following his suggestion, snipping away the cellophane with a pair of scissors and acquiring two tall glasses. The stalks are tall. You trim them down and begin arranging them. Eddie has no clue why you're being as particular as you are but he's happy for you to do as you please, traipsing into the living room where Junie seems to have been running rampant before his arrival with intentions of cleaning up.

He closes the front door and bends at the waist to let Junie back on her feet.

She goes down easy enough. Eddie turns on the TV to keep her occupied while he whips around the room. He wants to clean (as best as he can) before you see him and tell him to stop. He puts your small handbag and Junie's backpack at the sideboard by the door. He sweeps up all of her toys and tucks them under the television as you would, then moves onto the rogue dirtied pajamas on the floor. They're Junie's favourites, the ones with tiny strawberries that she always chooses when given the option.

Your laundry basket isn't anywhere in the living room or kitchen. He attempts to sneak past you where you're still arranging flowers intently. The sight of you stops him in his tracks.

I need to get her a vase, he thinks. And another bouquet.

You turn to him, a pleased expression turning your features from pretty to chest-achingly lovely.

He holds up the pajamas and then keeps on down the hall to the bathroom, even as you chasten, "Eddie," with a fond exasperation.

You showcase your first bouquet upon his return, sheepish, awaiting judgement. You're conflicted tonight, a handful of emotions shaken and stirred.

"Tada," you sing.

"Looks sick, sweetheart. If this whole waitressing thing doesn't work out for you, you could definitely be a florist."

You huff a laugh. "Oh, for sure."

"I'm serious. It looks really nice."

He thinks maybe he can see the way you might've been before, in that moment. There's something so young – and you are young, as he is, as he keeps forgetting – about your face and how you take praise. You look like you want desperately to brush it away, and you look like you want him to give you more.

He stands close enough that you're forced to turn back to the counter where the second bouquet is taking form. "This one looks nice too."

"I thought I'd put the prettiest one out here." You lean back and your shoulder presses to his chest. "And then the reject in my room," you say, chin lifted to look him dead in the eye.

He feels heat crawling up his neck and decides to fight fire with fire, even if the fire is entirely imagined. "Do you often have rejects in your bedroom?" he questions with a smarmy smile.

You laugh. Far from the polite and prim giggling you'd used when you first met, though that was cute, too, this laugh is something else. He wishes he had a tape deck with him to record it, play it back.

"Only if they're very pretty," you say. You place the last of the flowers into the second bouquet. "And these ones are beautiful. Thank you, Eddie. You didn't have to get me flowers."

"I wanted to."

Your head falls gently against the top of his shoulder. He stands very still.

The faucet drips. The TV plays. If he listens, Eddie can hear the sound of kids outside on their bikes, shouting and jeering.

Like this, he can see the curve of your neck, the hill of your chin. He can see the pillows of your lips and the slopes of your cheek. The darling shape of your nose. He knows a kiss would fit there well, fit there perfectly, if he would only raise his hand to your shoulder. Turn you ever so slightly.

Even the flat of your forehead begs for affection. He can almost feel it from looking at you – the warmth of your skin under his lips. He can't decide whether he'd kiss you from temple to temple, or smack dab on your crown. Between your brows, at the tail of them. The corner of your eye might work.

Anything would work.

Eddie lifts his hand. Careful not to startle you, he cups the side of your waist like he had before a hundred moons ago when you'd cut his hair in this same kitchen. He spreads his fingers wide and inches over your soft abdomen, feeling for the shape of you.

You turn your cheek into his shoulder. He lets his lips touch the back of your head.

Plinking echoes from the living room sudden enough to startle you in tandem. Kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar, you and Eddie both turn to the living room and come away from one another. You're more confused than Eddie at the sound; a split-second and you're out of reach.

He closes his hand and follows you. Now past the obscurification of the cabinets, he can see that Junie's finally noticed his guitar and has pulled it down flat on the floor.

She plays with the strings enthusiastically. Eddie can't bring himself to care at her roughness when she looks the way she does, curious and entertained, giggling her contagious baby laugh.

"I forgot you brought that," you say, looking to him, he suspects, for a cue. A silent, Is she allowed?

Of course she is. “I told you I'd give you a private show."

"What happened to the amp?"

"My hands were full." Eddie sits on the floor to Junie's left. "Whatcha doing, trouble?"

She hits the neck.

He takes her hand in a gentle grip and encourages the side of her finger across the strings.

She laughs thick and sweet as honey. "Brmm," she imitates, lips pinching between giggles as he helps her do it again.

"You're a total rockstar," he says.

You kneel opposite. "She's gonna lose her mind when you play something."

Eddie feels very smug at what's to come.

You let Junie play for a time, and then you open your arms and she walks around to your side, sitting on your thighs. She continues to reach for the guitar, seems sulky when Eddie picks it up, and quietens when he plays an experimental note.

"Are you gonna sing? I've heard you sing before, you know? You're not bad."

You wrinkle your nose.

First, he plays the Muppet Babies theme tune for June. She gets excited and starts to hum. You have to hold her in your lap to stop her from messing him up. He wouldn't mind if she did. He's hoping, maybe one day when she's old enough to understand, he could get her behind her own guitar. He's not kidding about starting a band.

He drops his eyes to his fingers, shaking his head on instinct to try and shake away the thought.

June sings and sings and eventually, quietly, you start to sing too. You’re purposefully not trying but any flatness is easily made up for by the familiarity of your voice alone. The way you talk, so charming and careful, the sweetness of your newfound shyness and the rough hint of ever-present tiredness you carry, it all seeps into your singing. Eddie adores it.

Junie almost gets some of the words right. It's very exciting for you, Eddie can see it in the tilt of your head. You enunciate precisely and he slows the tempo to give you time.

"It really sounds like she's almost there. She definitely said 'dreams come true,’” he says as the song ends.

"You think?"

"Definitely. Do you want to sing it again?" he asks, words falling into a high-pitched sugar, eyes on Junie.

"More?" you add, a slight correction. Junie doesn't know what 'again' means yet, but she understands 'more'.

"More," she says seriously.

You go through it one more time. If he plays slow to drag out your reluctant singing, that's his business.

He unveils his next song with a dash of edgy stage presence. "For my next song, I'll be playing what can only be described as the absolute pinnacle of music."

He sounds legitimate.

Your eyebrows pinch together at his sombre attitude. "Sure."

"I'm gonna play it as true to form as I can, but… I don't have a banjo. So…"

He plays the first few seconds of Kermit The Frog's The Rainbow Connection.

When he sings, he does it after an internal pep talk consisting of a scathing, Be brave, idiot.

"Why are there so many, songs about rainbows. And what's on the other side?" he sings, trying and failing to sound like Kermit. He abandoned that pursuit immediately in favour of his regular voice. Thankfully it's a slow song. Simple. It doesn't take much to play, either. The real challenge are the lyrics, which he doesn't really know. "Rainbows are visions, but only… illusions?"

You bob your head appraisingly, hands crossed over Junies front, cheek pressed to the top of her head.

"And rainbows have nothing to hide."

You’re making it impossible to concentrate, looking as earnest, homespun, and ridiculously pretty as you do. Pretty in more than just your looks. The way that you watch him, the way you rub a pattern over Junie's ribs, it’s all so indicative of your heart.

He fucks up the rest. Bad timing, amateurish fingering over the struts, lyrics that escape him. You'd never know he could play Master of Puppets a month after it's debut from the way he performs now.

You cheer, gathering Junie's hands into yours to help her clap.

He blushes like a fool.

—

Dinner tonight – take out.

You're prouder than you should be when Eddie asks, "Can I help you cook tonight?" and you get to say, "No, you can't. I'm not cooking."

You'd never shake your head at a frozen pizza but there's an irreplaceable satisfaction that comes from getting hot food delivered. Maybe it's the convenience, maybe it's that you don't have to cook it yourself. It might even be the grease. Whatever it is, it tastes better than any freezer food ever could.

You've trapped Junie in her high chair. Diaper changed, pajamas on, bib in place. You rolled her sleeves all the way up and gave her two slices of cheese pizza cut into small pieces that have been blown on for a more than generous amount of time and tell her to go ham. She doesn't bother with her plastic fork and you don't blame her, eating your own pizza in a similar fashion.

Rather than sit opposite you or next to Junie, Eddie has opted for the chair on your left. Junie on your right, your daughter eats with an animated little grin that apples her cheeks, giving her that chubby baby-like smile.

"You see her smile?" you ask, taking a big bite of perfect crust. You have to stop yourself from sighing happily, fingers covered in crumbs.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, pizza sauce or his face like a little kid.

You sit back in your chair so he can really see her. "She's always been a smiley baby, and when she was much smaller all her smiles were so chubby cheeked. She was chubby cheeked. Now when she smiles like that she makes me remember her when she was a baby."

"I'm not surprised she was a smiley baby if she had you… D'you miss having a baby?"

"Watch yourself," you say, and then giggle as all the blood drains from his face. "Kidding. I don't know if I miss having a baby baby. I mean, she's so little, she's practically still a baby. But I do kinda wish I could go back and hold her as a newborn."

Eddie wipes his cheek and stands up to get some paper towels. He wipes his face and hands and grabs the juice from the fridge to fill his glass (that's basically still full) and then yours (the real reason he'd stood, you reckon).

"Was she heavy?" he asks.

You worry for a moment he's humouring you. It's clear how much you love Junie, you know it is, and that shows in how much you want to talk about her. You'd never expected that part, though of course it makes sense – sometimes she smiles and you wanna call the newspapers – and you don't think Eddie's insincere. He seems like he genuinely wants to know and that's enough for you to want to round the table and throw your arms over his shoulders.

"I think…" You pick up your glass and hesitate with the rim to your lip. "I think if you'd held her back then, you wouldn't think she was heavy."

He practically smolders, bringing an arm up to tense his bicep. "Thank you."

You laugh at him. "Shut up! I just think, you've been good with her ever since you met her. When I held her for the first time it's a good thing I was laying down. I probably would've dropped her."

Eddie takes Junie's sippy cup to fill. You'd say it was a waste if he hadn't bought it himself, she's too busy eating her weight in cheese to care about something as rudimentary as juice.

"You would not have dropped her."

"I would've."

"You wouldn't have! And if you did, it would've been an accident. Next point, they don't have skulls, right? No harm, no foul."

"Who told you babies don't have skulls?"

"...I'm not at liberty to say."

You eat the rest of your crust and shake your head at his misguided education. "They have skulls, Eddie. The scalp is super soft and fragile for ages, but they definitely have skulls. You know what they don't have?"

Eddie squeezes Junie's shoulder as he walks behind her. "What?" he asks in alarm, passing you to sit down again. His knees touch the side of your thigh.

"Kneecaps."

His hand stops on the way to the pizza box, body frozen.

"What?" he asks, his alarm doubled.

"Swear down. No knee caps."

"Don't they need them? For crawling? I feel like knee caps are more important than skulls."

"If you didn't have a skull you wouldn't be able to breathe," you say, though you're guessing.

"What use is breathing if you can't move?"

You turn to him to take him in properly. You beam, because this is an outlandish conversation and you're enjoying every second of it and he looks just as happy as you feel.

"Do babies need to move? June could never move again and I'd still look after her,” you counter.

"Sweetheart, you're cheating."

"I can't exactly breathe for her-"

"What are you talking about? Of course you could. I don't know how but you'd find a way, Y/N, I know what you're like."

Your teeth click together, a funny retort squashed down by his unexpected admittance of faith. He always does this; Eddie loves to tell you the kindest things anyone has ever told you like they don't cost him a thing.

"I would," you agree, blinded by love rather than supported by any logic.

"Mommy," Junie says, like she knows she's the topic of your hypothetical devotion and she wants in. "More pizza"

"Please?" you tack on, though her small sentence had impressed you to the point of elation. You turn to her already with your hand in the pizza box.

"Pizza," she says. You love the way she says it, like the 'zuh' sound at the end is a complete surprise.

The pizza's cold enough by now to give it to her intact. She's amazed at the big slice you put on her plate, picking it up with a coordination you know is taking a lot of effort for her.

"Good job, baby," you praise, using her distraction to pull a little string of cheese off of her messy cheek.

She takes a huge bite. You watch her worried she's gonna choke, and feel Eddie's knees press deeper into your thigh as he moves forward to join in.

"Is it weird that she's impressing me right now?" he asks.

You giggle and roll your shoulders back until you can feel the brush of his hair against your shirt. "No, she's awesome."

For dessert, you insist on plating up. Or bowling up. You scoop a more generous than she should really have portion for Junie, something similar for Eddie, and a normal portion for yourself.

"On the couch?" Eddie asks.

You can see him cleaning up Junie out of the corner of your eye. You wish he wouldn't but you're grateful that he does. His attentiveness makes your hands feel heavy in that you remember you have them, and you remember what it's like to want to hold someone else's.

"Yeah," you say, though eating on the couch makes you nervous. You don't want to ruin it. You're lucky you even have one.

Eddie scoops Junie up easy and pats her back.

“You put away a lot of cheese, kid. A lot. Was that yummy or what?"

She burps. His laughter is roaring and boyish as he applauds her.

"You're patting her back, she's gonna keep burping.”

"That's what you're supposed to do for babies, isn't it?"

He stands under the harsh kitchen light with his face turned away and down toward Junie, hair a mess of flyaways, t-shirt covered in shiny toddler fingerprints over one shoulder and jeans slipping down low on his hips. Your explanation comes breathlessly. "When you give a baby a bottle they suck in too much air and it gives them trapped wind. You burp that kind of baby. Not greedy almost three year olds."

"She is not almost three."

"I think I'd know, Munson."

"She's like, two and a half at most."

"I'm rounding up for emphasis," you say, and glare at his eyebrows rising.

He pats her back some more anyways. She burps again and he laughs even more. "Juniper The Burpiest," he says to himself as he walks away, voice fading as he settles down across the way on the couch.

Junie has crashed and burned, warm thick cheese and dough putting her quickly into a close to listless state in his lap. He faces her out toward the TV and she leans heavily against his chest with his hands around her torso, propping her up. You shepherd in the desserts.

"Gimme Junie's," Eddie says.

"She's gonna fall asleep," you say, but pass it over anyhow.

Eddie places the bowl of rocky road in her lap with a hand between to stop from making her legs cold and starts to spoon ice cream into her mouth. She accepts. It's adorable to watch. His face over her shoulder, Junie's face slowly deflating, eyes bleary and blinking as her lips close lazily around the spoon. She barely flinches at the cold.

You eat your own ice cream in the seat next to them and wonder if this is forever.

Eddie wipes her chin with the side of his hand and watches her head fall. He wears a loving smile. It makes you want to cry, to know someone else loves her.

You let all your weight fall against his shoulder and eat your ice cream casually. This is the least casual thing you've ever done. Spoon in your mouth, you press your cheek to the top of his arm and glue your gaze to the TV.

You swear you can feel his eyes on you, but when you chance a look he's watching the TV, head inclined to yours ever so slightly, a hand brushing Junie's hair from her dozing face. You're weak. You give yourself over to what you want and turn your nose to his arm. He smells lIke he always does, warm in the truest definition of the word.

You close your eyes. After a few minutes, you feel Eddie take the bowl from your hands and set it next to Junie's. You want to open your eyes and say sorry but they’re heavier than you'd thought, and you can only manage a murmur of sound.

His hand sliders under your elbow and curls around your arm. His head drops on top of yours so softly you almost don't feel it.

You doze, digging your face further into his arm, feel the curve of it under your cheek and the cut off of his sleeve rising.

A frayed thread tickles your cheek and you complain without thinking, sighing your annoyance.

"What?" Eddie asks.

You raise a hand to rub at your face and eyes. "Tickled me."

"Did I? M'sorry."

"T-shirt. Did you cut them yourself?"

"You know it. Was going through a phase."

"Going through."

"Say it to my face," he says. Soft, teasing.

You lift your head and find him smiling at you.

He has a beauty mark under his eye, occluded near completely by his eyelashes. You can't believe you've never noticed it before.

"You have a freckle," you whisper.

"Where?" He nods. "Under my eye?"

"Yeah."

You sit up and stare at him. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. "I've never seen it before," you continue, still whispering. "It blends in with your eyelashes."

"I think you're the first person to see it who isn't my mom. No one ever looks at me this long,” he says quietly.

If his eyes weren't closed you'd never have had the courage to do what you do next. You raise your hand with his cheek, thumb pressed to the skin beside his nose and fingers slipped under his ear. You turn his face toward the light. Eddie lets you without complaint, his breath warm where it fans over your thumb. You push your fingers further until they've threaded into his soft hair, your thumb brushing up under his eye. You part his mess of dainty lashes with your thumbnail until the beauty mark is clear in view.

"That's so sweet," you whisper, awed.

Eddie readjusts Junie in his lap with an overabundance of caution and doesn't speak. He's lax under your touch.

"It's really pretty. You had it since you were a baby?"

"I think so."

You laugh under your breath.

"What?" he asks.

"It suits you." Something pretty hiding in plain view.

"I heard," he says hedgingly, "that freckles are a sign of how you died in a past life."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Bet it was something really gross, like a parasitic worm-"

"Ew."

"Or someone stabbed me. Or shot me. With an arrow."

"You're only twenty. Your past life would have still been in this century."

Eddie opens his eyes just to glare at you. "Don't deprive me of a badass past life. How would you have had me die?"

You push his hair from his face. "You know what I heard about them?"

"What?"

Fun to whisper with him like this. Like you’re younger than you are, trading secrets in the dim light.

"I heard they're kisses from a past life."

You raise your second hand to his cheek and cradle his face.

Eddie leans into it. “You wanna give me one for the next?” he asks, a short fall from salacious.

Your breath doesn’t catch. Your hands don’t shake. “Is that what you want?”

He falters. Bravado slips. Your heart skips a beat, worried maybe he doesn’t like you the way you’re thinking after all.

“Y/N,” he says.

You can’t hear his rejection. You won’t.

You close your eyes and kiss his cheek. Your nose slides over his skin, the heat of his blood under the surface warming your palms, and you steal a second there, two, breathing in his smell. If this is all you get, you can be okay with it. Eventually.

You pull away.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

please forgive any mistakes and how long it took, i have been a bit unwell! hopefully it won’t be too long before part four :3

#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

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elizais · 3 months

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when you know, you know.

when they realise just how much they love you ft: dazai, chuuya, jouno, sigma content warnings: reader isn't a hunting dog for jouno's button divider by v6que, dog divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more

dazai knew he loved you, from the get go. but, it was a random tuesday when it hit him how much he loved you.

your favourite author was releasing a new book, you were buzzing about it all of last week and it would be released in your local bookstore on the same tuesday. you spoke about your excitement often as the day approached but when tuesday finally came, you were on an emergency mission in the neighbouring city.

you and ranpo were in kamakura for the day, ranpo solving a couple crimes and you stopping him from getting beat up by his lack of social cues.

when you found out you would miss getting the book, you were disappointed but masked it by saying "'i'll just order it and wait for it to ship, don't worry!" to your boyfriend, osamu. he saw right through it though and made a silent promise to himself to get it.

once his shift ended, he made kunikida drive him to the bookstore (you took the car to kamakura because of the mission). a long queue was stood outside the door but he knew he would have to endure it.

waiting the hour and a half to get in, he rushed past the crowd to grab the last hardback of the book that was beginning to drive him insane. when he stepped out after paying (with kunikida's card, of course) he saw it was absolutely pouring it down.

torrential rain all over yokohama. the paperbag he was carrying the before mentioned book in would not last a minute. checking his phone for how long it would take to wait it out, he saw that it was not an option. it would last all night and you would be worried sick about where he was when you get home in an hour or so.

so, he made the decision to take off his coat, and wrap it around the book. he began to run back to your shared home, it was on this run he realised how much he truly adored you.

his blue striped shirt clung to his body, his bandages so soaked they were beginning to fall down. he mentally cursed whatever god controlled the weather, joking to himself about making a mental note to get chuuya to pass on the message.

when he made it back, out of breath and drenched, he saw your car in the driveway. you were already home. you must have not been home for long because as when he opened the front door, you were only just getting changed. your hair was wet from the shower and you had the towel in your hands to partially dry it.

"hello, love!" he smiled, hair flat yet frizzy from the rain. his clothes sticking to his skin as his jacket was bundled in a ball under his arm.

"where were you, osamu dazai?" you pressed a kiss to his wet face, pretending to scold him by using his full name. you began putting a hand onto his hair and making it look even messier.

"well, if you must know.." he teased, "i had to pick something up." he watched your face light up in realisation at what he had done, gathering why he was soaking wet.

"no you didn't! 'zai, you did not." you gasped, switching his last name into the nickname only you were allowed to call him - even if you were one of the only people to be able to call him osamu. osamu only chuckling as he moved to place his jacket on the countertop of the kitchen, unravelling the ball.

he handed you the book and analysed your face as it contorted through pure excitement. "oh my god! 'samu i love you so so so much!!" you placed the book down and practically jumped into his wet body. your arms found their rightful spot, hugging around his neck and his arms around your waist.

"i love you so much too, but now we are both wet.." he faked a frown, unable to hold back his smile.

chuuya was always enamored with you. nothing less. but he particularly knew it when you were keeping an eye on elise.

he knew that this wasn't the most realistic thing in the world, her only being an ability after all. but even if she wasn't exactly real she always wanted to hang out with you, do your makeup, put hair clips in your hair.. and you never said no!

so when mori called chuuya to his office to discuss some paperwork, he knew you had been hanging out with elise as elise ran in to mori - dragging you along behind her.

"yes, and this was when-" chuuya was interrupted by two girls giggling after the sound of a door opening. "rintaro!! look at what [name] let me do!" elise smiled, urging you to spin around. you meekly smiled at chuuya in your dollified-by-a-child state. sheepishly spinning around, chuuya saw your new look.

hello kitty stickers on your face, bright blue lipstick smeared on your lips, sparkly barrettes throughout your hair and a dodgy braid to top it all off. mori chuckled at the sight, meanwhile chuuya stifled his laughter to not insult elise. mori nodded at elise, a silent 'well done' at her work, she took that as enough, but she wanted chuuya's reaction.

"mister nakahara? doesn't she look good?" elise asked your boyfriend, pulling you next to him. a shit-eating grin on the little girl's face.

chuuya smiled at the sight, "she's never looked prettier! you have done a great job, elise." elise put her arms on her hips proudly and smirked. "can i dress her up for your next date??? pleaseeee??" elise begged the pair of you.

before chuuya could answer, you turned to your boss, still a little bit awkward with barging in to his office.. "i'm so sorry, mori, please, let me get out of your hair!" you tried to apologise and leave with a bit of dignity before chuuya pulled you back. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, an exaggerated "ewww!" coming from elise.

chuuya crouched down to elise's level, "sorry, you just made her look too pretty!"

everyone knew of jouno as a sadistic man. but for you something was different. when you first met him, he treated you with indifference. just another witness for a case that you were brought in to speak to the hunting dog's about.

but soon after, god knows how, you both started dating. whilst the hunting dogs had only met you when jouno had, they had no real idea of what the two of you were like.

but then, you come to their HQ again for who knows what, you instantly start teasing the man who teases everyone. a truly odd sight for his comrades.

quick pieces of flirting disguised as banter are chucked back and forth,

"your heart rate is through the roof." ... "like your ego?".

if they didn't know any better, they would have thought you hated each other.

when you two eventually stopped poking jabs at each other, you explained why you were there and gave jouno his lunch. a teasing "aww" from teruko came from across the room before jouno pinched your upper arm. you instantly pinched his shoulder back before taking a few steps back, trying to stop yourself from giggling at his frustrated face.

it was an odd scene to say the least, somehow, somewhere, a person existed that snuck her way into jouno's heart that could snatch his hat right off of his head, slap him with it... and he wouldn't be angry.

a person that tugged on his cape when stood behind him to annoy him, and started pinching wars with him.

saigiku didn't know when it happened, but it did. and he knew he loved you when you would relentlessly tease him back rather than giving in and letting him torment you like everyone else.

sigma had only been on this world for 3 years, yet he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his time on it with you the moment he saw you darting across the sky casino doing jobs on a busy week.

it was an abnormally busy time, and someone must have brought in a bug because sigma was not feeling well in the slightest. he was confined to his office and you promised him that you would get all of the manual/in person work done for him.

you had to beg him to let you do this for him, so he could rest. and it was all worth it when halfway through a day of signing paperwork he checked the cctv. a miniature, on screen you was helping out the customers of the casino, pushing boxes back and forth with your colleagues of course..

he realised just how much of a blessing you are. he felt as though his eyes were becoming heart shaped as he watched you, forgetting about the stack of papers he had to sign off.

an older woman approached you, too far away from the camera for him to make out what was being said but the both of you ended up sitting down at an empty table. the table was right by another camera so he could continue watching.

you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a deck of cards, sigma smiled to himself when he saw it was the fancy deck of cards you had stolen from nikolai as punishment for tormenting sigma. to be fair, nikolai must have stolen them from somewhere too.

sigma did begin to feel bad for watching you, even if there was no malicious intent behind it. he chuckled when he saw you demonstrating to the woman how to riffle shuffle cards, taking a break from your duties to entertain her.

he must have been enthralled by the scene for the better part of an hour as you patiently taught her magic tricks too. he could tell you had been learning from nikolai.

it was this simple moment that really made him fall for you, your kind nature being displayed perfectly.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #bsd jouno #saigiku jouno #saigiku jōno #sigma bsd #bsd sigma #sigma x reader

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hansomang · 2 years

Text

#ABPWEEK | MAY 20, 2021

DAY [ 6/8 ] : Time, Mystical Time

favorite recurring element. crossing the line~

#a business proposal #abpweek #kdramaedit #kdramadaily #asiandramanet #ccnet #udeokmis #userhannah #mostlyfate #syaring #samblr #useryd #usermaloune #tuseralexa #todramaism #*#gifs*#abpweek: day 6 #i'll always look out for queue

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octuscle · 2 months

Note

Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!

Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.

You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!

Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.

You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.

Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.

But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.

The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.

The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.

You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…

The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.

You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!

You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…

By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…

The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.

A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.

You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!

You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.

First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!

You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.

#male tf #muscle tf #chronivac #inked man #ai image #tank top

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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 months

Text

I'm not even that sick!

Pt. 1 of my new mini fic series, our wonder kid.

This fic series is based around an ask I had a while back where the reader is the teen prodigy for both Arsenal and England, and she deals with a serious injury with the help of her mother figures and the rest of the team.

I thought now would be a good time to write this as I'm currently ill and feeling sorry for myself, so this is the result of my self-wallowing and pity party, although it might be a bit scrappy.

Let me know what you think!

"Y/N, wake up" The voice of your Dutch teammate and housemate calls out to you from down the hall.

"Ugh noooo" You whine as right on queue, your alarm on your phone starts to blare as you automatically lean over to the left side to try and reach out to shut the sound of it off to stop it from making your head pound even more than it already does.

"Y/N, are you up yet? Training starts in an hour!" The loudness of Beth makes you scrunch your face up tightly as you shove the pillow over your face. "Y/N!?" she shouts.

"M' up, m' getting up now" You respond tiredly as you try to force yourself up from the cocoon of your duvet that you're currently buried in.

Eventually, you have mustered the energy to manovoure to sit on the side of your bed in a haze as you let out a small cough, trying to ignore the blatant rough feeling in your throat.

You can't help but feel like you've been hit by a bus, which would be putting it lightly.

You've always been prone to get ill quickly but you're also incredibly stubborn to admit it, so you'll push yourself and put your health at risk.

"Y/N, are you-- Whoa kid, you don't look great at all" Beth notes when she pops her head around the door and takes in the disheveled expression that's plastered on your face.

"Gee thanks Beth" You mutter while trying to push past the aching feeling that's taken over your whole body to stand up from your bed and walk over to the wardrobe to grab out what you needed, so you could get ready.

"Are you sure you want to go in? I mean, I don't think Jonas will mind if you skip out on training if you're not up to it" The blonde frowns, worriedly.

Letting out a harsh cough that makes you wince in pain, you shake your head in disagreement, "I'll be fine to train, m' not even that sick!" You disagree quietly, pressing your fingers against your tempe to try and massage it to stop the pounding inside your head. "I just need to dose up on some tablets and I'll be good to go" You add.

Beth eyes you wearily and exhales a sigh, "Oookay then, alright if you're sure?" The blonde checks in again for you to only nod in response, leaving you to finish getting ready.

"Y/N, hurry up. Lets' go before we're late!" Beth calls out from the kitchen, taking note of the time on the clock. "What's taking her so long?" She wonders.

"I'll go and find out" Viv exhales a sigh and heads in the direction of your bedroom to find you sprawled out onto the bed fast asleep again. "Y/N... Y/N, wake up" she shakes you lightly.

Somehow, you manage to get ready and then slump back down on the bed, driifting back off to sleep without any realisation of the time ticking before you need to leave the house to go and train.

"H... Huh?" You groan as you blink your eyes open tiredly and stare at the Dutch with a confused expression. "Oh, is it time to go?" You ask.

"It's time to go" Viv frowns as she takes in the sunken expression. "Are you sure you're up for it?" She wonders.

"Yep, m' good. Lets go" You pull yourself up from the bed, ignoring how lightheaded you feel and stumble out of your bedroom while Viv glances at you confused.

"Here she is" Beth jokes as she spots you stumble down the hall.

Another harsh cough escapes your mouth as you hazily shove your trainers on, "M' ready to go now" You tell them.

"Uh, should we be concerned about that?" Viv turns to look at Beth in concern.

"Yes but Y/N's stubborn, remember?" Beth exhales a sigh.

"And she's insisting to go and train?" Viv questions as she looks at you, worriedly.

"God, Y/N looks like death" Laura remarks as she joins the three of you out in the hallway with her training bag draped over her shoulder.

"Yeah, she's not... she's not feeling so great apparently" Beth shakes her head, leading the way outside.

"Should she even be training?" Viv glances at you, sceptically.

"I don't think so but you know how stubborn she is" Beth states.

"I can hear you all, you know? M' fine!" You continue to insist even though the harshness of your throat, it felt like you had swallowed razor blades.

"Your mean when your sick" Laura mumbles, shaking her head as she climbs into the back of the car.

"Shut up, your making my head hurt" You can't help but grumble as you climb in the car. "And m' not sick!" you insist further.

"You totally are" Laura fires back, sticking her head in her phone as she can't help but smirk.

"Am not" You mumble, exhaling a sigh as you feel the cool window against the burning heat radiating from your forehead.

"Great, the kids are fighting; just a typical morning, huh?" Beth jokes with Viv as she climbs in the passenger seat of the car.

"Y/N!" You flinch and fight the urge to groan as you feel the weight of Kyra jump on your back as you're standing in the middle of the gym, trying to middle

"Jesus, Kyra. Why're you so loud?" You huff and whine, wincing at the loudness of the Aussie's voice.

"Are you okay, Y/N/N?" Alessia peers at you with compassion.

"Yeah, you don't look great at all" Vic chips in, concerned.

"God don't you guys start too" You can't help but whine and complain as you struggle to lift the weights in your hands, just as queue as you start to cough again. "M' totally fine, you're all overreacting about this" You tell them.

"Are you sure?" Alessia frowns.

"Should you even be here today?" Vic wonders.

"Seriously, you two as well?" You huff dramatically as you slowly drop the weights on the floor and lift your shirt to wipe the sweat from the top of your head. "M' fine. It's just a little cough" coughs rake through your whole body as you clutch your hand over your heart.

"Take a seat, Y/N... You just need to take it easy, alright?" Alessia gently forces you down to sit on the bench and take some deep breaths, while you're passed your bottle of water to take some small sips.

"You should probably go home" Kyra chips in as you muster the energy you have to glare at her unhelpful comment.

Training is hard to handle, several times you have to stop and take the time to take some deep breaths to stop yourself running out of breath as further harsh coughs rake through your body.

Your throat feels scratchy, your nose won't stop running, and you feel slightly feverish, but you try to push past it to carry on with the sprinting drill you are currently in the middle of.

All of the girls had recognised the telltale signs that you're sick but every time someone tries to mention it, you shut them up with a dirty scowl while you try chug water to get rid of the pain in your throat.

"Wow, you look horrible, baby England" Your Arsenal vice-captain and England captain, Leah, approaches you and pats your shoulder lightly.

It's only a simple gesture, but it makes you wince and groan in pain; your whole body aches, but you're still too stubborn to relent and give in to going home anytime soon.

You just pray you can get through the rest of training, hopefully.

"Oh, thanks, Leah. You're just as charming as Beth is" You say before coughing, while the blonde looks at you knowingly.

"And you say you're not sick, huh?" Leah raises her eyebrow. "Okay, you shouldn't even be here today. You need to go home right now" She states.

"No, m' fine, why do you guys keep making it out like it's such a big deal that I'm sick?" You can't help but whine as you wipe your nose with your hand, which makes the older blonde wrinkle her nose in slight disgust at your action. "It's just a dumb cold that'll pass" You mumble as you huff.

Leah continues to give you a further knowing look, "Really, Y/N? Really?" She asks, knowingly.

"Okay, I feel like I've been hit by a bus... And then it's reversed, and it's hit me again" You mumble quietly, hoping that the blonde didn't hear a word that you say.

"Oh, baby England. You're definitely too sick to be here" Leah takes pity on you and wraps her free arm around your shoulder; you let out another small huff and fight the urge to stop.

You try to keep your eyes from fluttering shut while you stand there and take sips of water between speaking to her.

"Listen, I care about you a lot and that's why I'm pulling rank as your vice-captain..." You're quick to cut her off with a whiny voice.

"No, Leah... No" You interject., trying to object to it.

"You're going home, you're clearly not well enough to train today" The blonde states firmly.

"No, no. M' fine to train" You try and insist, although the sound of your voice makes the blonde think different not to mention the harsh coughing either.

"Uh uh no way, nope. Your going home, baby England" Leah repeats as she gestures Beth to join in the conversation. "Beth, will you please take your sick kid home? She's being stubborn and refusing to go" the blonde chuckles.

"I'm on it, don't worry" Beth ironicically had your bags and her bags ready to go, almost like she was expecting this.

"Why? I don't need to go--" You wheeze and start to cough again, huffing as you try and ignore the looks from the two of them. "I don't need to go home!" You insist.

"C'mon kid, stop being so stubborn. Let's get you home" Beth sympathises with you as she pulls you into her arms.

"I still think you guys are overreacting about this" You grumble as you let out a sneeze and can't help but feel miserable about feeling so sick.

"Quit being stubborn, go home before I get Kim invovled in this" Leah warns, amusedly with a look that almost makes you cower and give in.

"You wouldn't" You mumble, pouting at the blonde.

"Wouldn't I?" Leah fires back, determingly.

You can't help but let out a gasp, "That's cruel. I'm literally... I'm literally fine" You try and insist although the visible bags under your eyes and runny nose say different.

"Uh huh sure I believe you, baby England" Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly as she pats you on the shoulder. "Go home and get better, see you in a few days Y/N!" she states.

"Come on kid lets' go home eh?" Beth gently leads you in the direction of the car, where Viv is already waiting to go.

"M' not even that sick" You mumbe, a barking cough rattles through your whole body as you virtually slump against the blonde as you both walk to the car. "What about Laura?" you wonder.

"Course you're not kid, of course you're not" Beth can't help but laugh in amusement as she helps you into the back of the car and fastens the seatbelt. "And Leah's gonna bring her back, don't worry kid" she reassaures you.

"I give it ten minutes before she's asleep" Viv remarks as she turns her head and see's you already trying to curl up in a ball to sleep.

"I give it five" Beth states as she climbs in the passenger seat, buckling herself in before Viv drives out the car park.

Low and behold, 5 minutes into the car trip back home and you're passed out in the back seat of the car.

"Looks like you win the bet" Viv states, glancing into the rear view mirror to see your sleeping state.

"We're in a long few days with this illness, huh?" Beth remarks, frowning as they both know exactly how it's going to play out.

"Most definitely, good job we're stocked up on medicine already" Viv remarks, knowingly.

"Our wonder kid sure is a stubborn one" Beth mumbles, shaking her head in sympathy.

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #woso #woso fanfics #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #meadema x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #awfc x reader #engwnt x reader #woso fic

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