#this egg is freaking TINY

[luna-loveboop]

Egg.

Linktober day 5- sacred

It's Zelda's secret stone from totk. I think the name secret stone is stupid, so have always wanted to call them sacred stones instead.

This was actually just an exercise in how small of an egg I could carve a secret stone and triforce on. Next to a quarter it's very smoll.

Insert joke about Zelda eating both egg and actual stone here

[personinthepalace]

Odd Squad agents in Tiny Time Travel and Dino Dana -> thanks to @serendertothesquad for the heads up!

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[fushitoru]

all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.

warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself

a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33

general masterlist

You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.

When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.

You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”

He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”

You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”

“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”

Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.

One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.

He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.

Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.

“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.

Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.

“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.

“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”

“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”

The room went dead silent.

Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.

Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”

You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”

“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.

“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”

He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”

“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.

You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”

Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.

After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.

As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.

He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.

You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”

He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”

The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”

Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”

“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.

His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.

When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”

Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”

At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”

Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.

Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”

Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”

“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.

Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.

“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.

“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.

“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.

“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”

“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.

Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.

A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”

You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.

“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”

Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”

Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.

“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”

And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.

You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.

And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”

“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.

It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.

“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.

He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”

[theliving-radio]

I for real want a continuation of dragon baby sibling accident 😭😭 it’s so cute 💖💖💖 like how would Lilia react to seeing a baby dragon again and seeing Malleus just gush 100x more over the baby dragon prefect!! It’s just all so cute 🥹

A continuation from this: Baby Sibling turning into a Baby Dragon

“Lilia, hand me back my Baby Sibling!”

“No! Look how cute they are! And they are so docile too! You were a menace, even while still in your egg!”

Lilia was currently hanging upside down on the ceiling in the Diasomnia Dorm. Thankfully he was holding your baby dragon form up right.

“Father, I think it’s best to hand Malleus the Prefect.” Silver mentioned as he stared up at his adopted father, who was happily swaying you side to side while walking on the ceiling.

“Oh he’ll get them back in just a bit- Oh my Sevens! One of their scales are off colored on the back of their hind leg! Just like yours when you were a hatchling!”

“HAND THEM OVER!”

Other Diasomnia students who were in the lounge were able to watch their Dorm Leader huffing and puffing as he demanded to see the transformed Prefect.

At this point of time, they were all used to Malleus’s behavior towards his Baby Sibling. One of the strongest mages in Twisted Wonderland being a total loser for their adopted Baby Sibling?

Yeah, that’s their dorm leader.

You look at Lilia upside down face, he smiles at you when slowly blink at him and let out a happy chirp.

The bat fae lets out a high pitch squeal.

You’re so freaking cute!

“LILIA! I DEMAND TO HOLD MY BABY SIBLING!!”

“Watch your tone boy! I’m not giving them to you if you keep acting like a brat!”

Malleus huffs and begins to pout as he watches Lilia coo and play with you. You let out a small squeak and that’s when Malleus finally decided he had enough. Using magic, he lifted himself off the ground and floated up to the ceiling,

Lilia glances over at the younger fae and squints his eyes. “Really now, you’ve come to take them from me? Can’t this old fae just appreciate the newborn peacefully.”

“You’ve had their full attention for far too long-,”

“It’s been 15 minutes!”

“I will be taking my Baby Sibling back.”

Malleus reaches out to take you from Lilia, but before doing so, you squirm in the bat fae’s hand…

And jump out from his grasp, away from Malleus.

The whole dorm screams and scrambles to catch you before you’re able to hit the floor.

Your chubby, dragon body feels itself falling, and a small voice in your brain was screaming “WEEEEEEEE”.

Just then you began to start flapping your wings, decreasing the speed of your fall and go into more of a glide.

Students were running and shoving one another to try and reach you in hopes to catch you so you wouldn’t hit the dorms cold, stone floor. But you had a destination in mind:

The silver haired knight.

Silver wasn’t running around or shoving others to catch you, instead he stood perfectly still and raised his arms out, perfectly catching you.

You let out happy chirps and squeaks. “Again! Again!”

“No! Not again!” Malleus was able to understand you and floats back down to where Silver was cradling you in his arms.

Both students stare at each other, waiting for one to make the first move. Silver looked down at your tiny figure, and he couldn’t help but boop your nose. You try snapping your teeth at him which only caused him to chuckle.

“Silver…” Malleus was beginning to become impatient.

“Yeah I know. I’m not like my father.” Silver lifts you with both hands and passes you over to Malleus.

The Dragon Fae went back to smiling as he cradled you against his chest. “Hello my Baby Sibling.”

You stare up at the fae prince and let out a squeak.

Malleus had the urge to bang his head against the wall, you were so cute!

A small sneeze left your tiny mouth, the sound so small not many would hear it. The whole Diasomnia dorm was in awe on how adorable you were.

Lilia descends from the ceiling and looks around. “By the way, where is Sebek?”

“I sent him to stall Professor Crewel from making an antidote to turn the prefect back to normal.”

There was a long pause after that, and Lilia lets out a wheeze before bending over to laugh. Silver only shook his head in disapproval.

The poor half-fae was surely going to get in trouble with his professors…

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

hiiii!!! i love your no doubt series💗💗can i request one where jake does a voiceover of y/n’s makeup routine/grwm🥹🥹

hiiiii !!! thank you so so so much :'))) and YES THIS ONE IS SOOOO PRECIOUS AHHH srsly everyone's ideas are so adorable im freaking out. i think jake would be sooo locked in and so focused and determined bc you simply asked him to do this for you but then he would get sooo easily distracted and just start rambling on about how gorgeous you look and it just unravels from there LOLLL

──── GRWM ft. MY BOYFRIEND ! ✨🪞🎀 ↳ requested // part of the no doubt series !

"Okay, okay—hi, um. This is Jake. Y/N told me to do this voiceover thingy and I'm 100% sure I'm gonna do great because I watch her get ready everyday and it's just so mesmeriz—"

"Jake, you didn't hit the record button yet."

"Oh."

Tiny pause—click.

"Okay, hi everyone. I'm going to do my girlfriend's voiceover for—oh shoot okay you're already starting, we're moving fast."

You're tying your hair back in the video, face bare and freshly washed.

"Look at you—so cute already. Honestly this is kinda unnecessary, you look good all the time, why are you even getting rea—oh wait, okay you're putting on some...lotion? Cream? I don't—what is that?"

Jake turns, voice muffles as he whispers to you behind him, who's already giggling from watching.

"Baby, what is that?"

"It's primer, Jakey. Go back to the video, you're missing it!"

"Oh shoot, you're right. Okay, okay. So we did primer and now I think we're doing...sunscreen? I hope that's sunscreen. Protect your skin. I worry about you sometimes."

The video continues, now with you dabbing on concealer.

"God, you're so pretty."

"Jake, stay focused!"

"Sorry, sorry—okay. This is...concealer. I think. We're tapping it in with...a beauty blob? Beauty egg—beauty blender! Yeah, blender. And look at you go. So cute. So professional."

The video cuts to you doing your eye make up.

"Oh. Oh no, this part makes me so nervous every time. You're like, holding that pen right by your eyeball. I can't watch—oh my god, please don't poke yourself. Baby. Babe. Be careful. Ohhhhh, sharp wing. Okayyyy, pop off baby."

Your endless giggles are in the background of the audio as he falls quiet, genuinely too busy staring at you.

"How are you even real? You look so good."

"JAKE! Focus!"

"I KNOW I KNOW, I'm trying! Okay, now blush. You're smiling so you get that perfect spot on your cheeks I like to kiss. And now you're doing that thing where you put it on your nose and it makes you look like a literal angel—ugh, do you even see yourself right now? Everyone's gonna think I paid you to date me. I swear I didn't. Well. I mean. I would. I would pay you—wait no that sounds messed up—"

Your laughs are now out of control from where you sit behind him, both his hands grabbing the phone, carefully watching the video that continues to play.

"Okay, um. Now we're doing lips. This is lip gloss. It's shiny. It's soo shiny. Babe, I'm distracted again. Oh my god, you're so hot."

The video comes to an end with you posing at the camera, doing a little peace sign.

"Oh my god. Baby. Baby. You look so good. Can we go out tonight? Let's cancel our plans with the others. Wait, no actually let's not go out—you look too good. Let's just stay home and cuddle and make out. Forever."

"JAKE. END THE VIDEO."

"Oh shi—right, okay bye! Love you!"

The video ends with your chaotic giggles before Jake tosses the phone aside and tackles you into bed.

no doubt m. list

tag list! pt. 1 (open)

@bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @taeheexx @niyzu @chunkzdeluluwife @jakeflvrz @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay @wxnderingthoughts @fuevrois @soobundle1009 @isoobie @enhypenova @zoemeltigloos @lizdevorak @deluluscenarios @bloomiize @hasuyv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @veilstqr @dreamiestay @jakeyyyjakexoxo

[wetpussyju1ce]

bear!John Price x Scrawny Wolf!fem reader

+18 mdni

reader who likes to bite and gnaw and chew on John's fingers. she has sharp teeth and is obsessed w the scent and feel of his hairy skin. so she's constantly using him as a chew toy on any given chance. and John never complains. not even when she leaves teeth marks all over him. he's just happy to let her have her way w him. marking him for everyone to see.

reader who enjoys getting smothered by bear!price. she likes how heavy and big he is. how imposing he is as a figure. likes to feel the weight of his muscles and fat against her body as he absolutely rams her sweet pussy to next sunday.

reader who enjoys caressing and petting that man like theres no tomorrow, using a brush to freaking groom his chest hair because he's sooo hairy, so incredibly hairy all over and it's heavenly. and reader doesn't even mind when she sucks on the fat of his skin, the hairs never bothered her, she's a werewolf after all.

price who likes to play wrestle w her. while she bites and growls and scratches. he gathers her in his arms and squishes her under the sheer weight of his body. trapping her. she whines and hisses to be freed but all he does is bury his face in her hair and traps her arms under her body. soon enough he ends up rutting his massive bulge against her ass and he ends up mounting her in record time, grunting and panting as he shoves all of his girth inside her small cunt. She cries and howls and all he does is slam his hips against her ass and legs, his heavy balls continously slapping against her. he ends up shushing her, cooing and licking at her tear soaked cheeks as he makes home inside her guts.

And when they come, John doesn't pull out, instead he moves them to their sides, him being the bigger spoon, still plugging all his come inside her with his cock as he drags fluffy blankets over them both.

John who gets possessive and obsessive whenever winter starts to approach, worries abt his scrawny werewolf mate, tries to constantly feed her to try to fatten her up, feeds her his freshest catch of the day, fruits, bread and eggs. He wraps her in so many layers when it's cold and she's in human form. she's so tiny and gets extra worried about her getting sick, when it's been years since she's fallen sick, but he doesn't care, doesn't want to take any chances.

John who likes to manhandled his tiny mate, lifts her and carries her away from social settings when she's abt to rip someone's face off with her teeth when they piss her off. sometimes he casually goes on abt his day, shopping at the market w his mate on his shoulders. her butt on his shoulder as he holds her legs close to his chest. most of the time she's enjoying a cone of ice cream as he carries all of their shopping with one hand, and does everything with that one hand as well, with no complaints.

nobody ever says anything to them. especially when he's the biggest shifter in the whole village, and she's the one w the sharpest teeth you'll ever meet. so everyone keeps their mouth shut, because really, it doesn't affect them or hurt them.

[artaxlivs]

Which came first? The chicken or the scrambled eggs?

Rated E: Smut below the line, link to the Ao3 is here.

"Boy, you know I love you, right?" Uncle Wayne says gruffly over his favorite Garfield mug.

Oh jeez.

Eddie wracks his brain trying to figure out what Wayne's figured out this time. The drug deals? He'd thought they were both silently agreeing that they knew but wouldn't speak of those. The Upside Down? Nah, Eddie covered that pretty well, gave the same bullshit story the Feds did. Maybe something mundane like Eddie not doing his dishes?

That's an age-old argument right there.

Damn it.

"I know you do, old man," Eddie sighs, finally just deciding to take whatever it is on the chin. "Say what you wanna say."

There's a brief pause while Uncle Wayne must gather his thoughts - and the irrational swoop of Eddie's stomach over that is gonna give him nightmares because his abandonment issues are wide and deep - then Wayne clears his throat and says, "Whoever it is that you been leaving in your bedroom to sneak out after I fall asleep every morning...you can just invite him out for breakfast with us."

Eddie chokes on his own coffee. Well, sort of coffee - it's a lot of sugar and milk with a splash of coffee.

Not her. Him. They've never talked about it but Eddie knows Wayne has always had his suspicions. But he wasn't ready to have this conversation before the sun was even all the way up.

Before Eddie can finish coughing down his throatful of coffee, though, Wayne is shouting, "Eddie's boyfriend - you can come out and have some eggs if you want!"

A loud thump and the sound of someone obviously scrambling up from a bed comes from Eddie's room. "Yes, sir."  A muffled voice calls back.

Staring down the short hallway in horror, Eddie has a minor freak out. Okay - major freak out. But silently and quickly because...ohhhh this tangled web he’s woven for himself....

"Jesus Christ, Wayne." Eddie shakes his head before dropping it on the formica tabletop. He doesn't have to look up to know that Wayne is smiling that little smile that he gets when he proves that he's still smarter than Eddie is sneaky.

Wayne pulls open the fridge and gets the eggs back out, adding three more to the mixing bowl to whisk up.

Eddie still doesn't lift his head when Steve comes out of the bedroom because he just cannot bear to meet Steve's eyes. He eventually does look up, though, when he hears Wayne swear under his breath and nearly drop the frying pan.

"Ain't you the Harrington boy?" Wayne asks, looking a little dazed, obviously not expecting Steve Harrington to be standing barefoot, wearing one of Eddie's band T-shirts and a pair of his own sweats, in their tiny trailer kitchen, hastily shaping his hair into order as he reaches his hand out to shake.

"Yes, sir. And, um, I'd appreciate it if you kept that between us," Steve suddenly looks smaller, "for now, at least. I'm not sure what my dad...um, well." He worries his bottom lip and crosses his arms over his chest protectively, tucking his hands tight against his body. "I just - I don't think he'd approve. My - my dad."

Approve of what? Slumming it in a trailer park with a petty drug dealer? Because contrary to what Wayne thinks, Steve is not Eddie's boyfriend. They sleep together but not together. It's just for the nightmares. Sleeping alone sucks.

Wayne is nodding, though, the crease between his eyebrows the only thing giving away that he's upset about what he's hearing. Eddie's really not sure what he's thinking but he doesn't ask because maybe - just maybe - if no one asks anything specific, they can get out of this breakfast without Eddie being outed or any of them being embarrassed.

Because, contrary to Wayne’s assumption, Steve does not know that Eddie is gay. Or that the all night spooning they've been doing for weeks now is not as platonic for Eddie as it is for Steve. Eddie's not crossing any boundaries or anything creepy or anything, he's just...pining. It's fine. He'll get over it.

If they get through this breakfast without Eddie being outed, at least.

Steve, of course, offers to help but Wayne turns him down, nudges him toward the coffee pot to pour himself a mug instead. Which he does. Scoffing incredulously, Eddie gets up and swipes the mug from him, pouring it’s contents into Wayne's almost empty mug before setting it in the sink and taking out a clean plastic cup with a faded Charlie Brown & Linus on it.

"Sit." He tells Steve and reaches into the fridge for the orange juice he knows Steve prefers. He ignores the arched eyebrow Wayne aims at him. Mind your business, old man.

Breakfast is just scrambled eggs and toast. It's quick and not too heavy so Wayne can go to sleep after. It's always been the one meal they're guaranteed to have together. Even when most teenagers were sleeping in until ten am or noon, Eddie has always gotten up around 6:30 because Wayne's shift ends at six and he comes straight home and takes a shower, then they have breakfast together.

"So...Mr. Munson-" Steve starts after he swallows a drink of his juice and settles into one of the cracked vinyl chairs.

"Just Wayne, kid," Wayne insists gruffly, setting the pan of eggs down on a pot holder on the table.

"Oh - sorry," Steve says, letting his eyes fall away. It's weird, seeing him cowed by Wayne. Steve doesn't normally do that with adults. He's a charmer. He charms them all. Mrs. Wheeler would force Nancy to marry Steve if she could and Mrs. Henderson thinks that Steve is the second coming.

"Don't gotta be sorry...Steve. Just - call me Wayne." He comes back with a plate of toast. The butter and jam are already on the table. Eddie loads up his plate knowing Steve will do the polite thing and take less than him.

Clearing his throat, Steve nods, "Yes sir - W-Wayne." He stumbles over the first name but then keeps going - "I was just wondering...about the hats? And the mugs?" He looks around like he's taking them all in for the first time.

With a little smile, Wayne looks from the rows of hats and mugs to Steve and then back again. "Those are all Eddie." He doesn't elaborate but Steve's already nodding with a warm smile.

"I had a feeling." Steve nods again, slathering jam on a slice of toast. "Let me guess - this is him taking the joke way too far?"

The sound that comes out of Wayne can really only be called a chortle. There's nothing else that fits. Eddie is so glad his mouth was empty because it's like nothing he's ever heard from Wayne and he would have choked on his food. As it is, he makes a little offended squawk that they both ignore.

"Yup. You know him well I see." Wayne nods at Eddie but looks at Steve. "He got me this Garfield mug and a matching hat for his first Christmas here and I didn't want to disappoint him so I went a little overboard about how much I loved them. Wore the hat and used the mug religiously." He lifts the Garfield mug up for a sip and lifts an eyebrow at Eddie.

Steve knocks his knee against Eddie's under the table and when Eddie looks over at him, he’s smiling a fond smile at Eddie. He ducks his head to hide what he knows is a blush on his cheeks, letting Wayne and Steve steer the conversation where they want for the rest of the meal.

It’s not until they’re washing up and Wayne’s waved goodnight to them both, that Eddie speaks again. He bumps his hip into Steve’s as Steve finishes washing and rinsing the plastic cup and hands it over for Eddie to dry. “Sorry about that.”

Sliding the egg pan into the soapy water, Steve dries his hands off on a towel, leaving the pan to soak and turns to Eddie, hip propped against the counter. ‘For what?” Steve asks, confusion evident on his face.

He flounders for a moment, trying to find a way to steer Steve away from the flashing neon arrow pointing to Eddie that screams “GAY” without giving himself away if Steve hasn’t gotten that idea. “Um, just Wayne and your dad and - you know, all of this.” He waves his hand around in a general all encompassing circle to include the trailer, his life and Eddie himself.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Eddie is pretty sure Steve asks but it’s so unexpected that his brain almost comes to a screeching halt.

“W-what?”

“I asked,” Steve says, removing the scant foot of space between them by sliding along the edge of the counter, “if you wanted to kiss me?”

Eddie swallows, a lifetime of fear balled up in his throat. It has long since threatened to choke him but this time he pushes through it. Because dammit - he’s jumped into a lake and swam after 3 other teenagers he barely knew, he’s tromped through an alternate dimension, he’s played Metallica in hell and outran a horde of demon bats. He’s faced a fucking Lich with nothing but handmade weapons. He can do this. He can.

“Yes,” it’s barely a whisper and made through trembling lips but Steve hears it because he smiles, warm and soft and the next thing Eddie knows, their lips are pressed together and yes, yes, yes. Steve’s lips are just as warm and soft as his smile and just a little demanding as he pushes past Eddie’s and slips his tongue into Eddie’s mouth. 

Steve Harrington tastes like orange juice and possibilities. And before Eddie can decide what to do with that, Steve is dragging him down the hallway and back into his messy, unmade too small bed. He’s pressing Eddie down on his back and leaning over him to kiss him again. He’s rolling his hips against Eddie’s, brushing their hard cocks together in a way that makes Eddie’s toes curl.

And it feels like every night they laid here together, whispering into each other’s shoulders, every night they spent cocooned in safety, every brush of skin on skin was foreplay, was flirting, was courting - that all of it was a lead up to this moment where they could slip easily from friendship to something more.

Eager and keyed up, Eddie pushes Steve’s sweats down to his thighs, follows by shoving his own down as well. Copying Steve’s movement when he yanks off his shirt and then they’re skin to skin, dicks rubbing against each other as they both grind and chase their pleasure together. Steve shifts, putting his thigh between Eddie’s and cupping his ass to pull him forward and there it is, they’re slotted together just right. 

Eddie feels a little zing of pleasure up his back as he ruts against Steve. They haven’t stopped kissing long enough for Eddie to even moan Steve’s name but it’s fine, it’s great, he’s so close already, just a bit more, he’s almost there. He thrusts up and Steve squeezes his ass again, pushing their bodies together. His hand slips around, dipping  between Eddie’s cheeks, sliding one finger down his cleft until it presses against his hole where, sure, he has touched, but no one else has. Steve slipping just the tip of one finger into Eddie is enough to send him tumbling over the edge with a muffled shout.

Eddie’s still twitching through the aftershocks when Steve moves his hand back to Eddie’s hip, Steve holds him still so he can thrust into the sticky mess that Eddie’s made between them. “That was, fuck, so hot,” Steve swears before he clamps his mouth to Eddie’s again, pulling a whine from him just before Steve comes with his own shout swallowed up by Eddie’s mouth.

Slowly, their breathing returns to normal, the sweat cools on their skin and Steve languidly traces one finger through the mess as it starts to stick to Eddie’s treasure trail. Finally, when Eddie can think clearly again, he asks, “So I guess this means you’re not worried that Wayne thinks you’re my boyfriend?”

“Worried?” Steve grins up at him from where he’s resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “I think we should make him dinner before he goes to work as a thank you.” He rolls up, propping a hand on either side of Eddie’s chest to look down at him with a fond smile, “I mean, how long would we have lain next to each other in the dark waiting for the other one to make the first move?”

Going up on his elbows brings Eddie’s lips close enough to Steve for a kiss but he doesn't yet, he just stares up at him for a moment, then, with complete honesty, he tells Steve, “I’d have lain next to you for forever if I had to.”

Check it out on Ao3

[solxamber]

I wonder how would everyone in twst deal with shapeshifter!reader that shapeshifts according to the emotions they feel, kinda like penny from amazing world of gumball (mouse for fear, Medusa if they are angry, dragon when furious, etc.)

Shapeshifter! Reader shifts according to emotions

hi! thank you for the request, I'm not familiar with amazing world of gumball so if this is not what you wanted, you can let me know <3

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, he’s baffled by your transformations. When he catches you breaking a rule, and you suddenly shrink into a mouse out of fear, he goes redder than his own dorm’s color scheme. “This isn’t in the rule book!” he shouts, trying to keep a straight face while pointing at your tiny, squeaking form. "Get back here! I wasn’t that scary!"

Ace Trappola:

"This is hilarious!" Ace cackles when you transform into a chicken after a jump scare prank he pulls. "Every time you freak out, I’m gonna get free eggs!" He starts carrying around a list of emotions and their potential animal counterparts just to mess with you. He’s particularly fond of when you turn into something inconvenient at the worst moments.

Deuce Spade:

He panics when you become a snake after he accidentally insults you. "W-Wait, I didn’t mean to offend you! I swear I respect you!" Deuce waves his arms frantically, but the snake version of you doesn’t look impressed. Eventually, he ends up apologizing to a tree you slithered up, hoping for forgiveness.

Cater Diamond:

"Oh my Sevens, this is prime Magicam content!" Cater says, snapping pictures every time you transform. “You’re a walking meme factory!” He probably starts a hashtag dedicated to your transformations: #EmoshiftGoals. No matter the situation, he’s there to document your form, even if you’re a giant octopus stuck in a doorway.

Trey Clover:

Trey is unphased, which only makes it worse. "You’re a dragon, huh? Well, would you still like some pastries?" He offers you a cupcake while you’re snarling as a massive fire-breathing lizard. Somehow, his calm demeanor just makes you feel more ridiculous, and you shapeshift back out of sheer embarrassment.

Leona Kingscholar:

He’s absolutely done with it when you shapeshift into something large and ridiculous, like a lion that rivals him in size. "Seriously? That’s how you deal with anger?" he mutters, throwing an arm over his eyes and turning away. “You’re going to destroy the dorm, herbivore. Quit roaring at me before I kick you out.”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie sees dollar signs whenever you transform. “Yo, if you turn into a rare animal, I can sell tickets!” He’s already plotting ways to exploit your shapeshifting for his own gain, offering to “protect” you in exchange for some madols. You’re too busy struggling not to turn into a weasel from frustration.

Jack Howl:

He respects your ability, but he’s mildly concerned when you shift into a rhino after a workout, clearly overwhelmed by how sore you are. "Hey, I get the effort, but don’t take down the gym equipment with your horns," Jack warns, not knowing how to help while you smash everything in sight. It’s all part of “getting swole,” right?

Azul Ashengrotto:

He’s actually kind of jealous of your ability. When you transform into something like a Medusa during a heated negotiation, Azul’s glasses slip down his nose. “Let’s keep calm, shall we?” he says nervously, trying to maintain his cool. He starts drafting up a contract for your transformation abilities, hoping to exploit your forms to boost the Monstro Lounge’s appeal.

Jade Leech:

Fascinated. When you shift into a giant squid out of excitement for finding a rare mushroom with him, Jade’s eyes gleam with interest. “How intriguing... I wonder if your emotions could inspire even rarer forms.” He offers you “stimulating” experiences to study your shapeshifting, but he’s just looking for an excuse to see your dragon form again.

Floyd Leech:

He’s your biggest fan. Every time you shift into something, Floyd is there, demanding to “see the big one” — aka your dragon form. “Come on, let me fight ya while you’re a dragon! It’ll be fun!” You’d think being a massive fire-breathing lizard would scare him, but nope. He’s more excited.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim finds your ability endlessly fun. “Whoa, you’re a parrot now! That’s amazing!” He just claps and laughs every time you transform, not even fazed when you accidentally turn into a giant elephant during a banquet. “This is the best party ever!” He starts planning parties around your emotions just to see what you turn into next.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil’s patience is tested when you shapeshift into an overly dramatic form every time you get slightly annoyed. You turn into a cobra when he criticizes your cooking, and he sighs, rubbing his temples. "I don’t have time to deal with this. Can’t you at least stay human for five minutes?" You hiss in reply.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil’s irritation reaches an all-time high when he realizes you can shapeshift into ethereal, otherworldly beings, making even him feel average. The moment you turn into an angelic being, radiating beauty, he stares in stunned silence before murmuring, "I’m not envious... but perhaps you could tone it down? You’re stealing the spotlight."

Rook Hunt:

Obsessed. Rook is utterly captivated by your ability and considers it a masterpiece of emotional expression. "Magnifique!" he exclaims every time you transform, sketchbook in hand. He spends hours praising your forms in flowery French, even when you’re just a tiny bunny hiding in a corner from Vil’s glare.

Epel Felmier:

Epel is torn between awe and jealousy when you become a giant bear in a fit of anger. “Dang it, I wanna be that big!” He tries to rile you up just to see your more fearsome forms, hoping to get some tips on how to be more intimidating. When you become a giant stag beetle, he’s both inspired and a little scared.

Idia Shroud:

Idia’s both fascinated and terrified by your shapeshifting. “You’re basically a walking, talking MMORPG character with transformation hacks,” he mutters, eyes wide as you morph into a Cerberus when angry. He pulls out his tablet, muttering, "Okay, let’s not piss them off anymore, or it’s game over for me."

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho, on the other hand, is super excited about your ability. “Brother! They’ve turned into a griffin! How cool is that?” He scans you with his sensors and starts rattling off facts about your transformations like a walking encyclopedia. He keeps asking for data on each shift, even if you’re currently a three-headed dog chewing through a chair.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus is unsurprisingly unfazed. “Ah, you’ve become a dragon,” he muses when you turn into a fearsome beast out of fury. "How... nostalgic." He gives you pointers on how to properly roar and fly, treating your transformation as a normal Tuesday. “Let me know if you’d like some pointers on being a more regal dragon.”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia finds it hilarious when you shapeshift uncontrollably. "Ah, such youthful vigor!" he says, clapping as you morph into a bat out of anxiety. He starts comparing your forms to his own transformations, occasionally pranking you just to see what you’ll turn into. When you become a spider, he dangles from the ceiling, poking fun at your eight legs.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek yells in disbelief whenever you turn into anything he deems less than “worthy.” “You turned into a sheep? Preposterous! That’s no form for someone in the presence of Lord Malleus!” But when you shift into a dragon, he practically throws himself at your feet. “At last! A proper transformation!”

Silver just... naps through most of your transformations. You could be a raging tiger, and he’d probably sleep through it. When he wakes up and finds you in some new form, he just rubs his eyes and says, “Oh, you’re a phoenix now? That’s cool,” before falling asleep again.

Silver Vanrouge:

Crowley: "This is a rare magical ability!" Crowley says, trying to use your talents to bolster the school's reputation. He wants you to shapeshift during big events, but every time you’re stressed, you turn into a giant tortoise and refuse to move. He’s not thrilled.

Trein: He lectures you on controlling your emotions to prevent transformations, but even he’s secretly amused when you turn into a kitten after falling asleep in his class. He just sighs and lets you nap on the desk.

Crewel: When you shift into a ferocious wolf during an argument, Crewel just nods approvingly. "Good, good. Use that tenacity!" He’s secretly proud of your feral forms but won’t admit it outright.

Vargas: “A shapeshifter, huh?” Vargas immediately makes you part of every athletic event, hoping you’ll turn into something big and fast. When you become a cheetah, he practically cheers. “That’s what I like to see! Speed and power! Keep it up!" He starts using your transformations as a benchmark for the rest of the class, causing you to shift into an armadillo out of sheer stress from his overenthusiasm.

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo: He tries to maintain his usual calm and collected demeanor, but every time you shapeshift into something bizarre like a raven when you’re feeling anxious around him, he gets increasingly frustrated. “This is not an excuse for chaos,” he mutters through gritted teeth. But when you morph into a seraphim in a fit of anger, glowing and majestic, Rollo's attitude shifts to discomfort mixed with awe. “We need... order, not divine intervention.”

Masterlist

[euphoriesx]

pls bring me back from the dead oh god (inspired by a random tt i found whilst doomscrolling even tho i hv an exam tmr...)

itoshi sae considers his biggest weakness to be that he doesn't know anything else besides soccer.

it used to be worth it. kicking the ball around would light up a fire in his heart, every goal scored nothing short of extraordinary. soccer was magic, and he was the wizard with the wand in his hand.

'sae! come here!' the video, taken on a digital camera, plays. he feels like he's in a cinema and the end credits are rolling.

'mama.' a baby sae, in a romper the same shade as his eyes, waddles towards her. there's a soccer ball near him, and he hugs it with all his might.

'i don't know why your dad got you that ball,' she murmurs. 'but you seem to like it very much. who knows? maybe you're a soccer player.'

sometimes he remembers having a dream. oh, to be the best forward in the world alongside his brother. that tiny dream was all he clasped in his hand as he wheeled off his suitcase past the airport gates, all that brought him to life as he left home.

other times he wished he never had a dream at all. maybe now he'd still be in school, figuring out chem projects and essays. maybe he'd be looking at a future where he worked a simple office job from 9 to 5, coming back home to a nice dinner, and resting. friday nights would be a blessing every week, and maybe a wife and kids.

he doesn't want to tell anyone what happened to him in spain. on his soul, he knew he'd changed - he just didn't know how to become who he was before. that was the worst part of it. he mourned the loss of his old self, when soccer was a hobby - most nights in his house in madrid were spent reviewing game footage until his eyes couldn't open anymore and he cried himself to sleep.

despite all the fame, he couldn't sound anything more than monotone in every interview. despite every game won, he had to stand by and watch his teammates cheer loudly and jump all over each other.

is a prodigy a prodigy when they don't enjoy what they do?

besides soccer, itoshi sae doesn't know anything. he can hardly fry an egg without burning the kitchen down, and driving is a hassle. he wants his mom back to do it all for him but he has to swallow that sorrow and hope he's making her proud.

he thought he'd never know how to love, either.

that is, until he met you.

you were a journalist, another one of those people who interviewed players for a job. he hated the way they were so insensitive to how he felt, but you ... when you tried to interview him, he clammed up. not in his usual icy way because he knew interviews were a bother, but because he was shocked to see something else in you.

the same compassion for your job that he had once had for soccer.

the interview was never broadcasted. you'd pulled some strings, knowing he wasn't comfortable.

almost a year later and now, you're in his kitchen, in his house in madrid, humming to yourself as you clasp a cup of coffee in your hand and watch a replay of a barca match, of all things. he doesn't mind. he can't mind with you.

he probably won't ever get that original spark back for soccer again, but god, he had to love life when you were around. snaking hands around your waist and planting them on the cold kitchen counter, he watched the replay with his cheek against yours, head on your shoulder and pinkish hair meshing against yours.

'we beat their asses,' he laughs.

'i know. i'm devastated.' he can't help but give you a peck on the cheek for that one.

'will you burn your iglesias jersey then?' he despised bunny iglesias, almost as much as he despised french fries.

you pause. it's nice that you give him silence. sae likes silence, in a way that that pink bug freak can't give him.

'sadly, no,' you murmur.

'are you saying he's your favorite?'

'no. you know who my favorite is.'

'who?' he quirks an eyebrow, a hand coming to his hip in a pose he knows he does way too much for his own good. he already knows what your answer is gonna be.

'only the best footballer in the world. sae itoshi.'

so sae only knows two things in life. soccer and how to love you.

it's no longer a weakness, though.

[yvesssssssss]

could i request nagumo, shin, and natsuki turning into kids again for a day or something (if you’ve heard of that trope!! sorry if you havent LOL) and reader taking care of them because what else are you gonna do when your boyfriend turns back to 5

Sakamoto days men turning into a childe

Nagumo yoichi

You open the door to your apartment, expecting a package.

Instead, there's a tiny child on your welcome mat with messy black hair, mismatched socks, a plastic sword strapped to his back with tape, and a smug little smirk way too confident for someone who can barely reach the doorknob.

“Yo,” he says, hands on his hips. “It’s me. Nagumo. I’m five. Don't freak out.”

You stare at him. “What.”

“Someone thought it'd be funny to hit me with some age-reversal serum,” he says, shrugging like this happens all the time. “Long story. I’m adorable now. You got juice?”

“…You’re my boyfriend.”

“Not for the next twelve hours, babe,” he chirps, walking into your apartment like he owns it. “Unless you’re into daycare romance. Not judging.”

You're still frozen in the doorway, processing the fact that your lethal, flirty assassin boyfriend is now about three feet tall and currently attempting to climb onto your kitchen counter.

“I’m making eggs!” he yells.

“No, you're not—get down!”

He leaps off the stool with a cackle, lands like a cat, and runs into the living room. You follow, only to find he’s already fashioned a pillow fort and is demanding “the headband with the frog on it” to “complete his vibe.”

The next several hours are a blur of:

Nagumo trying to duel your neighbor's cat with a plastic spoon.

Drawing a very detailed crayon map of how he plans to rob a candy store.

Asking you 47 times if he can have coffee ("just a sip, c’mon")

Falling asleep halfway through bragging about how cool his future self is.

When he finally passes out, curled up on your chest with one hand still gripping your sleeve, you hesitate before whispering:

“…You are adorable.”

Tiny Nagumo shifts in his sleep and mumbles, “Knew it…”

Shin asakura

You opened your door expecting to start your day peacefully, but instead, a very small, five-year-old version of Shin was standing on your doorstep, looking incredibly serious despite his pint-sized form.

“Y/N,” he greeted you, arms crossed, his expression exactly the same as it always is, though now it was framed by an adorable mop of brown hair. “I don’t know how this happened. I’m five years old now. Help.”

You blinked in confusion. “Shin?”

He sighed in frustration. “I know. I’m just as upset as you are. But we don’t have time to waste, alright? The candy’s cursed, I ate it, and now—this.” He gestured vaguely at himself, clearly annoyed by his new body. "Do you have any juice?"

“Are you serious?” you asked, completely bewildered, but already stepping aside to let him into your apartment. “You’re five now. I don't know how to take care of a child!”

“I’m not a child,” Shin muttered. “I’m an adult in a five-year-old’s body. There’s a difference.” He scowled up at you, clearly unamused by your confusion. "I need to solve this before lunch."

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “Alright, I’ll get you some juice. And a snack… for now. But we’re taking a nap after.”

“I don’t nap,” Shin replied flatly, still looking too serious for a child his size. “I’m too busy thinking about how I’ll fix this.”

You handed him a glass of juice and leaned against the counter. “You’ve got an hour. Then you’re going down for a nap.”

Shin rolled his eyes and sipped at the juice, but the moment he finished, you made good on your promise. He protested, but there was no winning against your resolve. He was five, after all.

Later that afternoon, after he’d settled down with a stuffed animal and a cartoon on the TV (though he grumbled at the unnecessary amount of cuteness), he finally looked over at you, his face softening just a little. “I… don’t like this. I feel useless like this.”

You smiled and brushed a strand of his hair out of his face. “You’re still Shin. You don’t have to be anything else.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, crawling onto your lap as he tucked himself in. “For being… difficult.”

You chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “Shin, you’re never difficult. Just a little… extra.”

He smiled lightly, resting his head against you. “Yeah, well… if Nagumo tries to make fun of me like this, I’m punching him when I grow up.”

You smiled down at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I’ll remind him of that.”

Natsuki seba

You weren't prepared for the tiny person that knocked on your door.

You opened it to see a miniature Natsuki Seba standing there, holding a candy wrapper in one hand and looking entirely too smug for someone who was probably not even three feet tall. His usual dwrk hair was a bit messier, and his face had an almost too serious look.

“I ate the candy,” he announced, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “It said not to. I ate it anyway. Now I’m five.”

You blinked, looking him over in disbelief. “Natsuki?”

“Yep,” he replied, nodding, and then pushed past you into the apartment. “I figured if I didn’t eat it, you’d scold me for being a coward.”

You didn’t even know where to start. “You’re a child now. You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, not… this.”

“I am your boyfriend,” he said seriously, looking up at you like the fact should have been obvious. “But now, I’m small. And small people need juice and snacks. So I’m going to need some of that before we fix this.”

You rubbed your temples. “You're seriously just... fine with this?”

He shrugged and started rifling through your fridge. “I mean, what can I do? Now, I’m small and cute, but still superior.”

You found yourself smiling, unable to resist his confidence, despite the overwhelming ridiculousness of the situation. “I’m going to make you some lunch. No more candy for you.”

You managed to put together a sandwich, but Natsuki was on the move. “No way,” he insisted, already climbing up the kitchen counter to inspect your cabinet. “I don’t like that bread. Where’s the good stuff?”

You laughed despite yourself. "You’re five! You shouldn’t be so picky!"

“I’m five,” he repeated, “but I’m still Natsuki Seba.” He grabbed a snack bar and took a bite, satisfied. “Better.”

When you finally convinced him to take a break and sit down for a while, he crawled into your lap, eyes half-lidded in a mix of exhaustion and contentment. “You still like me, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said softly, stroking his hair.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because when I’m grown up again, I’m going to marry you.”

You smiled, a little choked up by the sweetness of it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

As he slowly drifted off in your arms, you marveled at the fact that even as a tiny child, Natsuki Seba still had the same intense presence. You might have been taking care of him today, but tomorrow, you knew, it’d be him taking care of you.

[hummingbird24220]

May I request something with sanjis nosebleeds, like maybe this is the first time reader has seen it and they start freaking out about it?

I love your writing, looking forward to more neko reader <3

Hello! Yes yes YES! I love my silly little bleedy boy.

Enjoy!

---

Code Red

One Piece x Reader (Slight Sanji x Reader Fluff)

You were just minding your business.

That business, of course, involved walking into the kitchen in your pajama shorts and a tank top, your hair still messy from sleep and your eyes only half open. You’d followed the smell of eggs and toast like a zombie chasing brains.

“Morning,” you mumbled, flopping into a chair and giving a lazy wave to Sanji.

“G-G-G-GOOOOD MORNING, Y/N-SWAAAN!!”

You blinked.

Why did he say your name like it was laced with glitter and holy light?

You tilted your head, just as Sanji spun in place like a broken record and launched backwards into the counter, hands pressed to his face.

“SANJI?!”

You leapt to your feet as he crumpled to the floor in a dramatic swirl of limbs and smoke from his cigarette.

“WHAT HAPPENED?! Are you dying?! Oh my god, is that—ARE YOU BLEEDING?!”

There was so much blood. It was pouring from his nose in a steady, terrifying stream, pooling around his head like a crime scene. You dropped to your knees beside him, hands hovering above his chest, unsure if CPR or last rites were more appropriate.

“ZORO!! CHOPPER!! SOMEBODY HELP, SANJI’S BLEEDING OUT!! I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID!”

Sanji reached a weak, trembling hand toward your face.

“…So beautiful…”

You stared at him in horror.

“DID I GIVE YOU A STROKE?!”

Zoro appeared in the doorway with a slice of bread hanging from his mouth and looked down at the scene like it was just another Tuesday.

“Oh. He saw your thighs, huh?”

“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!”

Chopper zoomed in like a tiny siren, throwing a little doctor bag at the floor as he knelt beside Sanji.

“He’s not dying,” the reindeer doctor said nonchalantly, pressing a tissue to Sanji’s geyser of a nose. “That’s just how his brain works. Or doesn’t.”

You looked between them, wild-eyed. “This is NORMAL?!”

Sanji let out a dreamy sigh. “If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right…”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “He does that whenever a hot girl breathes in his direction. You’re not special.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered.

“I MEANT—” Zoro blinked. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sanji reached for your hand. You panicked and handed him a napkin instead.

“Please stop bleeding. That’s… not a normal bodily response to… anything,” you said, staring down at him. “Does your brain bleed next? Does it travel? Is it contagious?!”

“It’s just love, sweetheart,” Sanji murmured, a rose somehow materializing in his other hand.

You smacked his face with a cold wet cloth.

Later…

You sat on the deck with Nami, still traumatized.

“He launched himself,” you muttered. “Like a rocket. Nose first.”

Nami sipped her drink. “Yeah, he does that.”

“Does he ever pass out from blood loss?!”

“…A few times.”

You stared at the sky.

“This ship is insane.”

Nami smiled. “Welcome aboard.”

--

Sanji had made a decision.

It was simple: no more nosebleeds.

You were clearly traumatized by the last one (the word “blood geyser” had come up more than once), and he couldn’t risk scaring you off again. He was suave. He was composed. He was… currently stuffing tissues up his nose just in case.

Meanwhile, you?

You’d gone from confused to curious to chaotic in less than 24 hours.

“I just don’t get it,” you said sweetly the next morning, leaning across the counter with your chin resting in your hands, voice all innocent. “Is it, like, only when I show skin, or is it just general hotness?”

Sanji’s hand cracked the egg he was holding clean in half. Not the shell. The entire egg.

You tilted your head, watching him.

“Because I was thinking of trying on that outfit Nami picked out for me. You know, the one with the—”

BOOM.

Sanji launched himself upward, hit the ceiling, and then crashed back down into a chair, clutching his nose.

“DAMMIT—! I mean, I-I’m fine. Totally fine. That wasn’t blood, it was… tomato sauce. I’m prepping for dinner early. Yes.”

You raised a brow.

“…You’re making breakfast.”

“…Double meal plan.”

You leaned closer, the picture of fake concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re looking kinda pink. Maybe you’ve got a fever?” You placed the back of your hand dramatically against his forehead.

His soul left his body.

You leaned closer.

He bled anyway.

“…DAMMIT.”

LATER THAT DAY

“I’m starting to think you like this,” you told him, poking your fork at a piece of fish on your plate while he sat across from you, hunched over and very much trying to maintain his cool.

Sanji dabbed at his nose with a napkin that was starting to look like it had been used in open-heart surgery.

“I’m a gentleman,” he said nobly, holding a second napkin under the first. “I would never—”

You slowly, very deliberately, stretched in your chair. Just enough to show the barest sliver of your waist.

His eye twitched.

“…You’re evil,” he choked out, tilting his head back so gravity could save his dignity. “You are chaos in human form. A temptress. A siren. A—snrrrk!—DAMMIT!”

He slammed his head on the table. Again.

Zoro passed by and muttered, “Hasn’t bled out yet? Disappointing.”

You offered Sanji your glass of water with a wicked grin.

“Hydrate, babe. You’re leaking again.”

BONUS: Luffy, watching this whole thing unfold, just says:

“Whoa. Are you trying to kill Sanji?”

“…Honestly?” you smirk, “Little bit.”

[saturnniidae]

So the goggles are some kind of... odd growth on your head.. glad we've cleard that up.

This is me btw. If you even care.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One FortyFour

Eddie’s standing in the doorway, waiting for Steve when he pulls into the driveway. Steve climbs out, grabbing his lunch box. Eddie insisted on packing it for him today, which Steve really appreciated. He had been only a tiny bit nervous when he opened it, but to be honest it was pretty normal, even if salad tomatoes, grapes and blueberries don’t instinctively go together, nothing was chopped too small, so Steve just picked out the tomatoes and ate those first. The goldfish were just loose though, so it was lucky Steve had the box flat when he opened it, and it only felt a little bit like a booby trap.

Steve deliberately keeps his face expressionless as he walks up to the house, Eddie looking on nervously. He frowns, “you okay Stevie? Was it okay?”

“I got it,” Steve says, doing his best to sound really sad.

“You...oh that’s okay Stevie- wait. Oh!” Steve grins, Eddie does a little jump before grabbing him up in a big hug, “you got it! You’re a kindergarten teacher!”

“Assistant,” Steve reminds him, nuzzling into Eddie’s hair, Eddie doing a little wriggly dance of excitement against Steve, “I get to call in Family Video on Monday and tell them I won’t be back, which is just...it feels really good. And now I’ll be home evenings and weekends and...it just feels a lot better, you know?”

Eddie grins at him, “so proud of you Stevie. We will get to have more time together. And I like this,” Eddie tugs on Steve’s new tie gently, making Steve snort a laugh.

“How are you?” Steve leans back more so he can rest a hand low on Eddie’s tummy.

Eddie shrugs, “good but...kind of nervous about later.”

“Yeah...but we need to know though, right?”

“Right,” Eddie nods, determined.

Steve hasn’t seen his catchers mitt since he was about thirteen, but he wonders vaguely if it’s still in the garage. He dismisses the idea pretty quickly, certain that Eddie would be deeply offended.

Steve and Eddie sit on the couch, staring into space. Trying to...absorb.

Owens had measured Eddie’s egg last time, and again this time, to confirm it was growing.

And it is. The smaller eggs that Owens thought were either failures or not fertilized at all had already disappeared, so he’s no longer concerned about any weird infections. He thinks that Eddie may have just passed them, or they might have just...gotten reabsorbed, which Steve just, chose to ignore, rather than getting freaked out by it.

“This is...a lot, right?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Uhm. Yeah. Yeah it kind of is.”

Eddie’s fingers creep over the couch cushion, Steve tangles their fingers together when they make contact.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you...do? With a baby?”

Steve snorts a laugh. He looks over at Eddie, and Eddie’s bemused face just causes him to break down into, slightly, hysterical laughter.

“Joyce will help,” Eddie says, once Steve finally stops laughing.

“Yeah, pretty sure she will,” Steve confirms.

“I...can’t believe it’s in there...now. Right now.”

“I...yeah. I think this is going to take a minute to sink in.”

“I’m going to teach them to read. And play guitar.”

Steve sighs, letting himself flop over, lying with his head on Eddie’s lap, Eddie’s fingers immediately finding their way into Steve’s hair, blunted nails scratching softly, “you’re going to be a great dad.”

“And you,” Eddie says immediately. He tilts his head, “Stevie are you...happy about it?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I...just didn’t think we’d have kids you know and that would be fine too but...yeah. I’m happy about it. Completely happy, I just...it needs to sink in. You?”

“Happy, but...little scared.”

“Do you want to tell people? Or...wait? Maybe we should wait until Owens checks it out again? If it’s still growing in a few weeks time then...it’ll be more sure, right?”

“You think something could still go wrong?”

Eddie’s frowning, so Steve reaches up, smoothing the crease of Eddie’s eyebrows with his thumb, “baby...I mean, normal human pregnancies go wrong sometimes, right? And we’re two different species so I just think...maybe wait, just a minute?”

“I want to tell Chrissy.”

“Yeah...I know. I feel the same, I want to tell Robin. Even if it doesn’t work out, I’d like to tell her.”

“We should Stevie, I think it’s going to be fine.”

“Okay. Okay.” Steve climbs up off the couch, “I should tell them I got the job anyway, I’ll call Robs, invite them over.”

Eddie is staring down into the sink, “Stevie?”

“Just leave it. Please. I know I’m doing it okay, and I don’t know why, but it just feels important so. Please. For me.” Also Steve doesn’t want to talk about how he’s acting like a weirdo about this and it’s making him more than a little self conscious.

Eddie seems to accept that, “would you be happy with a bucket?”

“A bucket?”

“Yeah? Like, we could fill it with water, and then we’re not always wasting sinks full of water every time.”

Steve, for a brief second, thinks Eddie’s mocking him. But then he knows it’s Eddie and Eddie just...isn’t like that. “Yeah I mean...I don’t think it matters what it’s in, I just need it to be there.”

Eddie nods, “you were right about the beer. I am having a baby,” Eddie suddenly breaks into a big grin, “baby!” he whispers, full of excitement.

Steve gets it, every time the thought crosses his mind he’s filled with emotion. It keeps hitting him, again and again, and the feeling doesn’t seem to wearing off any time soon. “I know, come here.”

Steve holds Eddie close, relaxing into each others arms, “but you were right about the beer so...you must have known, somehow, right?”

That thought had been niggling at Steve, vaguely. He feels it in the dreams, he knows he does. He just doesn’t have any explanation for it. The dream is exactly the same, every time, every night. Like Steve is...in a room of soft light. It’s not really much to go off of, not really, but still.

“So does this mean you’re not going to argue about the milk either?”

“Two glasses a day, final offer.”

Steve snorts a laugh into Eddie’s hair, “I’ll take it.”

They just stand there, in the middle of the kitchen, holding each other close. Steve sets the occasional kiss against Eddie’s neck or cheek, and they don’t part until the doorbell rings.

Steve sets out a bowl of salad. It’s kind of cheat dinner, just frozen pizza, but still. You can’t invite people to dinner and then not have any dinner. Even if the dinner was an excuse.

“So,” Steve sits, “we have news.”

The girls stop bickering, “what?” Robin asks.

“Is it serious,” Chrissy is frowning, looking between the both of them. “Oh my god did Owens finally come up with something? Eddie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Eddie grins, “but Stevie has a new job!”

Robin gasps, hitting Steve with a kitchen towel, “Judas!”

“Robin!” Chrissy smacks her arm.

“I mean. I’m happy for you, obviously. But you could have waited until I went to college. Now I’ll have to fight off Keith,” she shudders.

“I’m sure you’ll cope.”

“It’s the kindergarten thing, isn’t it?” Chrissy clarifies.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ve been and done some hours there already and...I really like it. The kids are fun but...sticky. Like, really sticky, a lot of the time.”

“I’ll be all alone,” Robin bemoans.

“You’ll be fine, stop it.” Chrissy looks from Robin back to Steve, “congratulations Steve. We are really happy for you.”

Robin gestures vaguely, her mouthful of pizza, “obviously happy for you dingus.”

“Thank you,” Steve says primly.

“And the other thing?” Eddie asks quietly, feeling for Steve’s hand under the table. Steve just nods, squeezing Eddie’s hand. Eddie takes a deep breath, looking back at the girls, “I’m pregnant.”

Robin coughs, spraying her plate and the surrounding table with pizza crumbs, Chrissy just...stares at them. Looking back and forth.

The silence lasts long enough that Eddie finally asks, “is it okay?”

“They’re just...a little shocked, baby. Give them a minute.”

“Oh my god,” Chrissy breathes, “I thought you were joking. You’re not are you?”

“No,” Steve says evenly, “not even a little bit. And we’re not telling anyone else yet, we just needed you guys to know first. Eddie’s going to get checked out again in a couple of weeks and then...if it’s okay, we will tell everyone else.”

“Holy fuck,” Robin gestures wildly between the two of them, “how did this happen? I mean...how did this happen?”

Chrissy is already up though, coming around the table, pulling Eddie out of his seat into a massive hug, “congratulations honey. Wait,” she pulls back, holding Eddie by the shoulders, studying him, “this is congratulations, right? You’re happy?”

“Yeah,” Eddie grins, but Steve can see his eyes are wet, “yeah, congratulations.”

“Good!” And Chrissy immediately pulls him back in, no hesitation from her.

“I feel too young to be an aunt. Steve, I’m not ready for this kind of responsibility!”

Steve just shakes his head, trying to resist kicking Robin under the table.

Once the news has, kind of, sunk in, they move to the living room, abandoning the remnants of dinner on the table. Steve can deal with it later, or tomorrow, he just really doesn’t have the energy to think about it right now.

“So,” Chrissy’s laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, “how..?”

Steve looks at Eddie and shrugs, “I’m...a little different to normal guys.”

“Like how different-” Robin starts.

“I’m not telling you what’s in Eddie’s pants,” Steve cuts her off immediately.

“But-”

Chrissy smacks her with a pillow, “we will respect their privacy.”

“You are no fun. No fun at all.”

“I am curious though,” Chrissy starts slowly, “I mean...why has this happened now? Like I know you guys have been boinking for a while. Like, very regularly-”

“Chrissy,” Eddie hisses, “you said girl talk is sacred!”

Chrissy does manage to get out, “sorry,” but it is broken by her laughter.

“She does have a point baby. And I mean...if it happened once, it could...happen again?” Steve’s thrilled to be having a baby with Eddie, even if there’s still a part of him that...wants to wait. Needs to know that it’s for certain.

Eddie nods, “no condoms for a long time.” He blinks then, pulling a leg up so he can turn fully on the couch to face Steve, “my birthday,” Eddie’s eyes widen, “my birthday wish!”

Steve immediately and almost instinctively knows Eddie is right. He feels it in his bones; that one time they did something different, and they haven’t done it again since, Steve can’t help it, he speaks without thinking, “oh I’m so sorry I knocked you up in a bathroom.”

“I’m so sorry we had to hear it,” Robin splutters when Chrissy hits her with the pillow again.

“So if,” Chrissy points at Eddie, “and stay with me here, Eddie is like, fifty percent Steve, genetically-”

“Owens said it’s more like forty,” Eddie tells her, “he compared my blood now to Steve’s blood and what he got before I changed.”

“Right, right,” Chrissy nods, “but still, if the baby is like, half Steve and half Eddie, does that make it like, seventy five percent Steve?”

Robin gasps, “how dare you suggest my niece is inbred.”

“I-” Chrissy starts, then stops again, “I mean that wasn’t what I was suggesting-”

“Nephew,” Steve tells her confidently, “it’s a boy.”

“I...are you saying that because you want a boy or..?”

“No,” Steve frowns. Thinking. He...he’s sure. He knows it like he knows Eddie should drink milk and not beer. He knows it like he knows there’s clean water in the kitchen sink. “No...I think I know it’s a boy.” Steve thinks about his dreams, the bubbly feeling he gets when he’s there, how everything is so soft and gentle and just...nice. “Yeah.” Steve looks to Eddie, “I think I know it is.”

“From the dreams?” Eddie asks quietly.

“I think so, yeah. Yeah it is.”

Eddie just nods, shrugging, before he turns to Chrissy with a big grin on his face, “we’re having a boy!”

“Robin is also a nice name for a boy-so fucking help me Chrissy!” It devolves into a fight, Robin trying to wrestle Chrissy’s pillow weapon away from her.

Steve and Eddie just watch.

Steve sighs, Eddie’s head on his lap. School hours are kind of nice. Since the florist closes up around three ish, and Steve’s work hours are now eight until four, it means they get every evening together.

Unfortunately today, he came home to find Eddie throwing up in the downstairs bathroom.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, loads. I think I’ll be okay to go to practice.”

That’s what Steve was afraid of, but he takes a deep breath and mentally squares his shoulders. The guys at practice definitely don’t exactly like Steve, but he figures that’s huge progress on the open hostility he was facing in the beginning.

“I have the stuff for snicker doodle.”

“I know,” Eddie grins up at him.

“Oh you little,” Steve pulls Eddie more onto his lap, going for kisses and a sneaky tickle.

“Stop!” Eddie laughs, “no no no!”

Steve has hung around for the last couple of practices, cheering on the band and doing his best to keep his expression blank through the physical pain caused by incredibly loud feedback at about ten feet away.

He’s vaguely aware that, in the eyes of the band at least, that makes him the clingy groupie.

He doesn’t think he cares.

But tonight he’s doing his own thing, so he drops off Eddie and the cookies, and heads off to the rec center.

Robin lets him in, and he follows her along the hall, calling, “hi Mr and Mrs Buckley!” into the lounge on his way past. There’s a vague response, followed by Mr. Buckley shouting something about the bedroom door staying open.

Robin looks over her shoulder to roll her eyes at him, “Chrissy doesn’t have that rule,” she waggles her eyebrows.

Steve snorts a laugh, “I wonder why.”

“So how did it go?” She asks, bouncing on the bed.

“Yep, they get together to practice and mess around once a week in the evenings, and then there’s a pick up game at the weekend for whoever shows up basically. Sounds really relaxed, but the guys who were there seemed cool so,” Steve shrugs, “I’m looking forward to it, going to go this weekend.”

“Awesome,” she nudges him, “oh! I got you something!”

She bounces off the bed. Steve watches as she pulls some stuff out of the top of her closet. And then pulls over her desk chair and climbs up, moving more stuff around. He is further bemused when she goes out of the room, coming back with a butter knife. Steve watches her, top half pretty much in the closet, there are brief sounds of a struggle.

“Errr...you okay?”

“Yup!” She turns on the chair, throwing something wrapped up in a paper bag to Steve, Steve catches it, watching as Robin undoes whatever she just did, and puts everything back. Steve pulls a copy of ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting,’ and snorts a laugh. “Thank you, what’s with the…” he gestures vaguely.

“Could you imagine if my parents found that?”

“Yeah. Yeah actually, totally fair point.”

They’re lying sideways across Robins bed, talking quietly, their legs hanging off the edge.

“So, thought of any names?”

Steve snorts, “no, not yet. We’ve not talked about it. I think we’re both...kind of waiting for the next check up, you know? Just...to be sure.”

“That’s fair. I’m sure it’ll be fine. God I cannot wait to see the look on Hoppers face when you tell him. Promise me I will be there. I need this.”

Steve laughs, “yeah, Eddie enjoyed the pot luck so much he wants to do one at our place and invite everyone. Maybe we can do one of those cheesy reveals, I don’t know. Eddie loves that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah.” They’re quiet for a minute, “how are you feeling about it though, I mean, it’s a big deal? Like...this is going to change your whole life.”

“Yeah, I know...but I mean...me and Eddie have come through some stuff, and I know he’s excited about it. I...we’re going to be fine. And I always wanted kids so...I mean it’s really unexpected obviously. I just…” Steve takes a big breath, “I really want this…”

Robins hand creeps into his, giving it a squeeze, “I’m really happy for you…but why did that sound like it had a but.”

“I don’t-” Steve runs his hands through his hair, frustrated with himself, “it doesn’t, not really. I’m really happy, I swear, I just...there’s this one thing. And it’s...completely irrational.”

“Ah yes, because you’re always so rational. Come on, tell auntie Robin.”

Steve snorts a laugh, warmed by Robin’s commitment to the auntie thing. He stops for a second, gathering his thoughts. His mostly, so far, vague and nebulous thoughts about the whole thing. It’s only a little niggle really, but still. “I don’t have a logical answer for it, I just really feel like...if I’m having a kid, I should be married to the person I’m...doing it with, you know? That’s all it is though, it’s just...this stupid feeling that I...should.”

Robin nods, “I...follow you Steve. And first of all, your feelings aren’t stupid,” Robin even lifts herself up on her elbow so she can glare down at Steve as she tells him that. Steve lifts his hands in defeat before she flops back down and continues. “I mean, if you’ve kind of had that plan for a long time, and I guess a lot of people just...sort of assume their life will go that way, you know? It’s not unreasonable to kind of...rest your dreams on that kind of path, even if it’s just an assumption and not like, you know, an actual plan.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I mean...this isn't Eddie’s problem though. It’s my problem, and I can’t make it Eddie’s problem. I don’t...the last thing I want is to upset him, you know? Especially now.”

“I know but...I don’t think you need to keep how you're feeling from him Steve, you two are such a team, you know? I think he’d be understanding.”

“Yeah I get that but...but doesn’t matter, does it? I can’t change it, it won’t happen, so why trouble him with it? It’s just a...feeling I have.”

“If he was worried about something, even if neither of you could do anything about it, wouldn't you want him to share his burden with you?”

“Oh shut the fuck up, stop being so...reasonable. And it’s not like that anyway, it’s Eddie...you know, it’s kind of, my job to look after him. He hasn’t even been human for that long, not really.” As soon as the words are out of Steve’s mouth, he knows he’s kind of, at least a little bit wrong. He’s had this conversation with Jon not that long ago. Eddie doesn’t need him in the same way he did a year ago, or even six months ago. He still thinks this way out of force of habit, he’s pretty sure.

Robin shrugs, “if you think. I don’t think it’s up to you to choose though. Besides, Eddie is smart, he can tell when something is bothering you. Ohhhhh...do you think his freaky mind powers are giving him an advantage? What if he can see your big white wedding dreams?”

“I...well shit. I mean, we haven't actually proven he has freaky mind powers at all. Owens was so excited by my blood sample we hadn't seen him for a while, and now he’s more concerned with, you know, the baby.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

Steve ponders what Robin said while he drives to pick Eddie up from band practice. He thinks about it when he’s making dinner. Stews on it watching a movie with Eddie. When he fills the bathroom sink with clean water, he’s aware of it. He stares at it for a second, deliberately leaving it. Eddie doesn’t ever question the water when he climbs into bed. Maybe the bucket is a good idea.

Steve lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, still thinking about.

Eddie snuffles across Steve’s shoulder until he settles against Steve, “something wrong?”

“Nah,” Steve says reflexively, trailing his hand down Eddie’s back.

“Stevie. You said we have to tell each other the big things. All the things.”

“Right,” Steve scrubs at his face, “yeah, I did say that. And...kind of, but nothing bad, okay?”

“Okay. Tell Eddidie.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “bringing out the big guns huh?”

Eddie nods, his curls tickling against Steve’s cheek.

“Well...I...we’re having a baby. That’s a thing that...you know, is happening, and I’m so happy, I guess. That it’s me and you and...you know, hopefully the baby in you is fine and all that works out, right?”

“Right?”

“Yeah okay but...and it’s not bad, I promise. I just always thought that when I get to be a dad I...I’d be married to the person I was being a dad with, you know?”

Eddie’s quiet for a second, and then Steve feels him shrug, “so we should get married then?”

“Eds we can’t-”

“No, no, I mean just...have people over. It’s just words right, in front of people? We can still do that, right?”

“I...I mean, it wouldn’t be legal.”

“Does that part...is that the part that matters to you? The legal part?”

Steve thinks for a second, “no, actually, I think that’s the part I don’t give a shit about.”

“Okay,” Steve feels it when Eddie shrugs again, “so lets get married then.

“We will have a fall wedding.”

“Steve snorts a laugh, you repeating dumb shit off the TV again baby?”

“No,” Eddie immediately denies it, “I like the trees then.”

“Uh hu, but isn't the idea to have the wedding before the baby? Owens said he had no idea how long your gestation might be.”

Eddies nose wrinkles, “don’t use that word. I’m pregnant.”

Steve sighs, waving a hand, “no you're right, come here baby I’m sorry. He also said gravid and that’s way way worse.” Eddie climbs into Steve’s lap, letting Steve cup the subtle curve of his stomach, “how is he doing?”

Eddie shrugs, “everything feels the same.”

“Maybe he’s in a food coma, you did just eat like twenty chickens worth of legs and wings.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, snuggling close, “Owens says its fine if I’m craving protein,”

“Uh hu,” just do me a favor and include a vegetable-” Steve’s interrupted by the phone ringing

Eddie slumps off him onto the couch, “if its Max or El tell them I love them and they’re perfect.”

Steve gets up, “and if it’s anyone else?”

“They probably smell?” Eddie hazards, “not Joyce though!” Eddie calls after him.

“Hello,” Steve answers, still chuckling.

“Steven, glad I caught you.”

“Mom?” Steve feels vaguely blind sided. They haven't spoken for...months. Quite a few months, and even then their vague interactions have centered on utility bills and couriers coming to pick up his mothers jewellery.

“Steven, I know we haven’t been to Hawkins for a while now, so we’ve decided there’s no point in maintaining the house any longer.”

“Oh,” Steve says, thinking, well, don’t sugar coat it or anything.

“Obviously you have a room at the place in Detroit, the realtor will be in early next week to take photographs, so make sure the place is acceptable. Oh, and I’ll let you know the date for the movers so you can pack your things, okay?”

Steve feels vaguely sick, like the world just got pulled out from under him a little, “I-right. Okay, yeah, but I’m not...Mom I’m not leaving Hawkins, my whole life is here.”

“What, your career?” She laughs, more condescending than cruel. Like Steve is still a silly little boy.

“I...well. My job, my friends...I’m just. Not leaving.”

“Well…” Steve can practically hear here thinking it through as she course corrects, “you are an adult now, but you understand that will mean you need to get your own place? You’ll need to pay your own way with the utilities?”

“I...I know. Yeah, I- I’ll figure something out.”

His mother sighs softly, “it’s a girl isn’t it?”

Steve’s at a loss. His parents knowing the truth is...not a conversation he could ever have, but...this frames it in a way his mother can understand, “yeah.”

“You love her?”

“I...yeah. Yeah I do.”

“And she loves you?” His Mom sounds soft now, like he remembers her being when he was small. She’s a romantic, deep down. His dad might have slowly sapped the life from that part of her but...it’s always been there.

“Yeah...probably more than I could ever explain.”

There’s a moment of silence on the phone. Kind of heavy but...Steve feels lighter for it, “are you going to look after her?”

It’s...a bit of a strange question. The phrasing feels a little off, but Steve speaks this language. This soft secret thing his mom has had to hide away for so long she’s probably forgotten it exists herself, ‘are you going to be better than your father?’ she’s asking him, ‘will your priorities be different?’ she begs, ‘don’t let her end up like me.’

“We’re engaged,” Steve doesn’t know what pulls it out of him, in this moment, the phone cradled close to his cheek, his eyes water, ‘yes,’ he wants to tell her, and ‘I’m nothing like him’. He presses his free hand to the other cheek. It feels a little dreamlike, like he’s a little boy again and his mother is cradling his face, “there’s going to be a baby,” he admits, whisper soft.

“Oh,” his mother answers, and her voice sounds suspiciously wet, and oh so soft, before she clears her throat, Steve hears her pulling herself together, “your father won’t miss a few thousand dollars,” she laughs, actually laughs, real and conspiratorial, something briefly flaring to life that they haven’t shared for a long time, she sounds alive and rebellious, she sounds like a million memories from when Steve was little, “I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Yeah...yeah, thanks Mom. Really.”

“Our little secret,” she whispers to him, and it sounds like the forever kind of goodbye.

Steve stands for what feels like a long time, listening to the dial tone. The whole conversation couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes. “Stevie? You okay?” Eddie disturbs him from his reverie.

“I yeah,” Steve swallows, emotion thick in his throat, “...look are you sure you want to get married in the garden?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “it has to be here. With the pear trees, and the pool.”

Steve takes a deep breath, “how does next weekend sound?”

They lie in bed that night, curled around each other, “we really need to tell everyone else.”

Eddie nods, “if everyone comes around for a pot luck, we can tell them it’s to celebrate your new job. Then we can tell them about the baby and invite them to the wedding at the same time.”

“Baby...I don’t feel like I say this enough but...you’re the best. You’re just the best and I love you.”

“I know.”

Steve laughs, “you just...you just always make everything okay. You just...no matter what happens you just take it in your stride and you’re just...amazing.”

Eddie shifts, resting half on top of Steve, leaning in for soft, gentle kisses, “you’re the best too.”

They kiss for a while, soft and slow. Gentle. Loving. Eddie’s nails scratching at Steve’s chest through his shirt, and Steve’s hands slip up the back of Eddie’s loose sleep shirt, tracing his spine. It slows as they snuggle up, “I guess we actually need to plan a wedding.”

“Joyce bakes the best pies.”

“So you don’t want a wedding cake?”

Steve feels Eddie shrug, “we can, as long as there’s pies.”

“Yes, then. I’d like a cake. I’d like a picture of us cutting it together. I’m sure we can ask Joyce to make pies though. And...do you want to like, walk down the aisle together or-”

Eddie snorts, “no, obviously Joyce will walk me. You do the man part.”

“Right yeah, obviously, yeah,” Steve agrees, like how dare he even suggest anything else, but it still makes him smile into the darkness, “I vote El and Max do that flower girl thing?”

“Yeah. God idea. Chrissy is my head bridesmaid. She already said so ages and ages ago, when I first started at the flower store.”

“Well it’s only fair I get Robs as best woman then. Who’s going to like, marry us?”

They lie in the darkness for a few seconds, and then they both speak at the same time, “Hopper.”

[lenoide]

The Lonely Hearts Party

Toto x reader fem!merc!employee, boss|Toto, Valentine's Day | Fluff, romance, and comedy.

Summary: For weeks now, you have been receiving the most gorgeous flowers every Wednesday morning at your desk at the Brackley Headquarters, as a mysterious admirer seems so in love with you. The entire factory, your besties at work, and you all wonder who he is. Could it be the one you truly wish for? Author's note: Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! Send you lots of love. Masterlist: Here

The most beautiful flowers have been arriving at your desk every Wednesday morning for almost a month now. Every week, as you reach your office in the early hours, they are already in place to welcome you. 

You love smelling them; they are always fresh and sweet-scented, and you love to look at them even more.

You feel a rush of excitement to read the handwritten note that always comes attached, filled with a different poem paragraph each time, something along the lines of "She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright."

Every girl in your department finds it so romantic, the mysterious admirer, but you and your besties at work, Rose and Oliver, who work in the same station that you, joke about finding it a bit creepy. 

"The Creepy Flower Guy" is a nickname you came up with to refer to him as an inside joke, being the three of you true crime enthusiasts.

—Maybe it's one of those garden gnomes HR placed outside —Oliver jokes as he finishes eating his scrambled eggs after you told them about the new Lilacs you received that morning at the breakfast quick break. —Perhaps he fell in love with you by watching you walk past —he jokes.

The hilarious idea of a tiny plastic guy sneaking into the headquarters, wearing his little red hat and fast feet to get incognito to your office, and on his tiptoes, placing the flowers on your desk makes you giggle.

You have to give it to HR this time; those gnomes were a great addition to the garden's pond; every time you sit on the benches near it, you enjoy the new scene the mechanics or engineers put together every few days, having fun moving the gnomes around or placing them in the funniest scenes, even someone during winter knitted them Christmas sweaters.

—Or maybe one day we'll find you dead on the floor, poisoned in your desk after inhaling azaleas for too long —Rose adds with the most casual tone as she bites her sandwich.

—Or you go missing! Kidnapped at the parking lot by "The Creep" —Oliver adds. 

—GUYS! —Ava turns around after overhearing the conversation; she is sitting at the same long table in the cafeteria, not getting your usual dark humor, a bit concerned, and creeped out. —You three need to cool it down with those goddamn crime podcasts!

—NEVER! —all of you answer at the same time.

—You freaks!

As you all finish breakfast, in a rush because the "off-season" is always the busiest time at the factory, you ask out loud. —Who do you think it is? 

—It's evident! It's... —Grace from the control room team starts saying.

—Lewis Hamilton! —and she finishes along with the other five people on the table now. 

Oh, the classic joke.

The entire table burst into laughter. It's a common joke to do about Lewis since almost every family member or friend thinks that working in the Mercedes racing team instantly makes you Lewis's best friend and that you always hang out with the guy, which couldn't be further away from reality. 

Most of you only see him in corporate gatherings or pass by from building to building, usually on his way to the simulator or in the hallways on a lucky day. 

He is always sweet and polite with the team and staff but quite distant; he still is Lewis fucking Hamilton. Unless you are part of his immediate team or Toto's, you get that privilege reserved for the key players only. 

Even so, almost everyone has a Lewis or Bottas story, and ALL of you have Niki's anecdotes cause that man is bonkers and a LEGEND. 

Most of them go hilarious as all of you try to act human around them, like the one Oliver has where he bumped into Lewis one day as Oliver was getting out of the bathroom and Lewis was on his way in, offering him a completely wet hand to introduce himself, which Hamilton noticed and sweetly and quickly patted Oliver on the shoulder with a "nice meeting you, man" and quickly got in.

—REAL theories only, guys! —you address the table. —Is my life a joke to you all? —you mess around, getting on your feet and closing the lid of your topper. —Please don't answer that.

-

Another week goes by, and a new stunning bouquet arrives. 

—Oh, how exquisite! That man is so into you. Those blue mophead hydrangeas sure are expensive! —the receptionist points out to you because you are a total flower ignorant who only goes: "Oh, pretty, colorful, smell cute" without giving it much thought. 

Most of the time, you have no idea what you are looking at, but you have fun googling it and trying to decipher; in your defense, no one has pampered you like this before. 

You are brand new at the getting flowers game.

-

The following week, a couple of bets start happening at the building as the word spreads, and many wonder who the mysterious guy is. 

Some think it's not a guy but a girl, as one day after a meeting, as you all are leaving, one of the engineers approaches you and makes the clever remark that the attention to detail about the type of flowers, the color palettes, and the scented notes is too much for a simple guy. —Either he is getting advised, or it's not a guy! Maybe you could obtain a reference from the company that delivers it.

This entire thing feels surreal and truly takes you by surprise since you have always considered yourself the most average girl, especially in looks and more so in the sea of beautiful blondes working at Mercedes.

Which, for some weird reason, reminded you of when you dropped your resume after one of your buddies from college - who still works there at the machine shop - gave you the heads up there was a job opening that suited you perfectly; he even had to insist you a couple of times, because you were almost sure they wouldn't give you a callback. 

To your eyes, Mercedes was one of those companies that cared about looks or looked for a specific ethnic type; it turns out you judged too soon; they care about skills, productivity, and professionalism, too, and it ended up being a bit more diverse than you expected the place to be.

It still has many areas for improvement, but it's become your favorite job ever.

-

By the end of the day, you wait for Rose to come out of her meeting to leave together, standing in the perfectly lit hallway leaning on the impeccable white wall; it's "Cheap Thursday" at your favorite local pub, and you two desperately need fuel to finish the heavy week, so nachos and a couple of pints sound like heaven.

After what feels like an eternity, a group of people comes out of the double doors by the end of the corridor facing you, and you catch a glimpse of a very hurried-up Toto getting out, too, looking handsome and elegant as ever.

You feel his dark eyes looking you up for the briefest moment, making you shiver and blush like a teenager in front of her crush.

Thank god he doesn't stop his pace and gets out of your view within seconds but leaves you distracted enough not to notice Rose approaching you till she is by your side, looking almost pale as a ghost, whispering in your ear. 

—I swear it's Toto's handwriting! I just saw him writing on the board for over an hour, and his calligraphy looks exactly like the one of "Creepy Flower Guy"!

—Come on?! Toto? Shut up! —a crackle comes out of your mouth, thinking it's the most ridiculous idea. —The billionaire smocking-hot boss falls in love with the average employee; what do you think this is? An 80s telenovela? Fuck off...

—Well, his handwriting is the same cursive style, and the "r" and "t" are almost identical —Rose starts to overexplain, trying to justify herself, looking timid and embarrassed now, and you instantly feel awful at your reaction.

—I'm so sorry, Rose, I overreacted; I tend to be too blunt! —you quickly wrap her into a hug.

—It's just that I have been seeing that calligraphy for a while now, and I found it freaky similar.

—Now, how can we make sure, Rose? Any ideas?

She shakes her head. —I'm not friends with his assistants or anyone on Toto's team.

—No one is friends with his assistants. I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be ex-MI5 agents or worked for the KGB —Rose starts to laugh hard, agreeing. —I think getting to the Prime Minister is easier than reaching Toto under their hands!

—You are screwed then. 

—Let's rule Toto out for the moment —you add.

—Yeah.

-

That night at your flat, a crazy thought comes to your mind as you brush your teeth; the wackiest thoughts tend to happen to you when you brush your teeth; you need to make yourself with a piece of paper handwritten by Toto to compare it with one of your notes.

You know Toto places sticky notes on the far wall inside his office; you have noticed those on your many and regular trips to the CFO's office as your boss always sends you to deliver the reports in person by the end of every week, always passing in front of Toto's office on you way there, which most of the time it's empty since he spends the year traveling, but you try to do your best when he is in, slowing your steps a little bit more to enjoy the view and fixing your appearance a little bit too before crossing in front of him. 

Still, his assistants are always at their front desk near there, making it impossible to sneak in. 

If only you could make it inside Toto's office without raising questions and with a good excuse. You laugh at the idea; it's wild and ain't going to happen, and if it does, your ass is getting fired. 

As the Mission Impossible cord from the ceiling scene comes to your mind, it's time for you to go to sleep.

-

As you anxiously roll from side to side of the bed, struggling to shut your brain off, you remember that Niki's surprise birthday celebration is scheduled in two weeks; you could volunteer to help organize the event and usher the people around, including Toto.

There is the slightest chance to make it to his office and take a quick photo of the sticky notes on the wall; it's borderline mental, but you really want to find out because Rose sounded so sure!

This is fucking insane. 

-

Two weeks, two new bouquets later.

When you finally reach the upper floor, where the "top-tier people work," almost everyone has left to get to the party on time. 

Being on time in Mercedes is a must, so there are few people you need to usher there.

You got accepted to join the Niki's celebration committee as a helper minion. Weirdly, it will be hosted in the base race of all places instead of the Silver Arrow Lounge, where most celebrations are usually held.

The decor is ready, the cake is at the counter, and the many photo props and snacks inspired by Niki's red cap are in place; even the catering and most of the people invited have arrived.

But Allison and Toto are nowhere to be seen, and the head of HR is on her nerves about it, thinking it could ruin the surprise or that two of the most influential people there are going to miss such an important event.

As you approach the bosses' offices area, you quickly search in the surroundings for them; it helps you that all offices have glass panel walls.

You venture to wander more, but nada, they are not there, and at this point, no one is there. As you return to the stairs, you pass in front of Toto's office once more. 

You just need to snap a quick picture. What could go wrong? No one is near to see you, and there are no cameras around since Toto dislikes that.

"Okay, Y/N, listen, it's just a couple of steps; you have your phone in your hand; it won't take more than a few seconds..."

You feel your body acting on its own and your feet slowly moving ahead. 

You gradually enter the luxurious and immaculate office.

"Okay, like four steps more, and I'm close enough to zoom in the picture." 

When you almost reach his desk and the perfect distance to snap the photo, you sense movement outside, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel someone standing behind you, right at the door. 

Busted!

—Yes? Can I help you? —Toto's voice comes severe but calm.

You feel your heart in your throat as you slowly turn around. 

—Yes, you can! —you quickly reply, pretending to be looking at the cool helmets and steering wheels at the corner. Is it the best move your mind could come up with? Certainly not —...Sir... —you kind of finish saying, remembering he is the boss.

Toto stares at you, waiting for you to continue as you stand motionless in the middle of the room, looking straight at him. His eyebrows go up a little, and a tiny, amused smile forms on his lips as he moves his hand, gesturing you to continue.

—They are all waiting for you at the race base, sir... to start Niki's surprise reception. He is about to arrive. 

—And they sent you to get me?

—Yes —you feel the need to explain yourself more, feeling nervous. —Niki has no idea who I am, so I'm not blowing the surprise away if I bump into him on my way here! 

—Interesting... —he lets out gradually.

Oh god, Toto has no clue who I am either, right?

Fuck, I'm such an idiot!

—Oh, I, I'm Y/N —your brain starts working again as you quickly introduce yourself to him, offering him a hand to shake.

He looks even more perplexed at you but grabs it; it's awkward, and you want to crawl into a hole or hide beneath the expensive rug you are stepping on.

—We should get going; I have places to go, and I'm on a schedule today.

—Oh yes, of course, sir —you quickly exit his office as he closes its glass door behind you. Well, you literally pass below his muscular arm. 

Toto doesn't move much, so you squeeze in, almost brushing his body as you out, and he simultaneously closes the door, fuck, he is tall and smells so so so good.

-

It's a quiet walk downstairs; just the sound of your steps and breaths fills the room. You feel intimidated by Toto's presence, not used to having him that near you and being a shy-natured girl.

He seems to slow down his step, prolonging your agony. 

Should I say something? But what about? Work? Something casual? You assume he wonders the same since you feel his eyes on you every few steps, but he dares to break the ice before you can.

—So y..

—I'm To... Oh, sorry, go ahead —he says at the same time.

—Oh, no worries —you nervously place a strand of your hair behind your ear. He follows the movement of your hand with his eyes. —What were you saying? —you look straight at him, Jesus; he is way cuter up close; that's some strong jawline, you can't control your eyes going all over his features.

—That I didn't introduce myself upstairs. I'm Toto, by the way —he offers you a kind and unintentionally sexy smile.

You notice, a bit way too much, how all his traits soften and how relaxed and joyful he looks when he smiles.

It turns out that "The Creepy Employee Girl" should be your nickname now.

After perceiving him as less threatening, you joke around to make the air less awkward. —Really? I had no idea! I thought you were that Lewis guy everyone talks about! But nice to meet you Toto By The Way —you fool around.

He laughs a bit. —You never heard of me before? I guess I'm losing popularity around here nowadays!

—You must hang around more to be part of the "popular squad".

—Who holds the title right now?

—The gnomes.

—Oh, yes, they are quite popular.

—A bit too much, yeah.

As you two reach the entrance to the race base, he rushes his step to hold open the door for you, letting you go first; you feel his intense gaze follow you every step as you pass right across from him, making you feel things he shouldn't. 

Everyone who got invited is already there; the usually squeaky-clean and clear white counters now hold cups, party hats, bottles of champagne and sparkling water, delicacies, and a big red cap-shaped cake.

—Great! The boss is here! Please, bring Niki in —you hear the HR director speak through the intercom as she looks your way, sounding so relieved, and a minute later, all of you start cheering as Niki enters the room.

You expect Toto to instantly leave your side and go near the big names of the company and his precious stylish drivers, but no, he stays right next to you.

As Niki almost reaches you two, getting hugs all his way down, he comes closer to Toto first and says in a low voice, but you are still able to hear him. —Is the cake vegan?! —looking concerned before tightly and roughly hugging him, knowing they would call him to blow out the candles and bite the cake soon.

—No, sir, this time they brought Lewis his own cake —you inform him, getting in the conversation, as the two of them turn to look at you.

—Oh, thank god! I almost spit out last year's "fake" cake! Hi Y/N! I didn't notice you there! This mountain was on the way —he pats Toto's chest a bit too strongly. Niki makes a funny face, eyebrows going up, not sugarcoating around as usual but earnest and light-spirited.

You laugh, exhaling cute sounds; even you have to admit you have a lovely, infectious laugh.

—Hi sir, happy birthday!

How on earth does Niki know my name?! He knows who I am?! WHAT...

-

—...the fuck were you thinking?! —Oliver looks shocked and pale as you update him and Rose about your little adventure today. —You honestly thought it could be Toto?!

—Can a girl have a dream?! —you shrug as you keep typing violently on your computer, wanting to finish that notice as soon as possible to move on to the next task, starting to feel stressed.

—You could have got into serious trouble, like big trouble, like getting fired trouble —Rose says, dead serious. —I feel terrible for enabling you!

—I know it was reckless and stupid, really stupid! —you admit, feeling dumb now about your actions.

God knows what got into you!

-

The next day, on your way to the cafeteria for lunch, you sense something is going on; everyone is acting weird.

Until you enter the room to find Toto having his meal in there, alone at a table, aware of the looks he is getting.

What is he doing here? He usually goes out for lunch or eats inside his office.

The fuck.

He waves a hand at you; you look around to see if he is addressing someone else till he arches an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, so you hurry up to reach him.

—Well, you weren't wrong! By all the looks I received on my way here, and fairly now, it appears I don't hang around much —he invites you to sit, stretching his arm, pointing to the chair in front of his, before continuing. —It wasn't unusual to see me everywhere before; of course, it was the early days, and we were a smaller team back then —he almost looked sad and nostalgic about it.

—Look at you, man of the people!

—Eat your salad —he rolls his eyes at you as you get your lunch out.

—Is that like a boss order, or?

—Maybe, if I'm feeling moody. 

—So, I guess most of the old guard is gone?

—Are you low-hand calling me old?

—Well, how ancient are you?

—I'm almost 70 —he makes you smile and looks all pleased with himself and his dumb humor. —I know, I look good for 70!

—Who would have thought you had a sense of humor? You always look severe and bossy.

—Can you stop low-key insulting me?

—Neva'

-

After two weeks of having lunch with Toto and getting to know each other more every day, you two become friends; some days, a different person joins you; at some point, you can't believe you are sharing quinoa recipes with Lewis and comparing drinking pub stories with Niki.

—Is it me, or have you abandoned us, the peasants? —Oliver says to you when you return to the office.

—Oh, come on! You can join, you know that! He knows who you two are; we talk about you guys a lot, and he greets you daily!

—Now that you are part of the "big farts" table, hanging with the famous, why would you care about two random coworkers? —Rose overdramatizes.

—OH COME ON!

—Apparently, you don't care about the old and wise saying "Bros before hoes," —Oliver adds.

—Of course, I care about you two hoes. Please join us tomorrow. PLEASE?! —you beg them with the biggest smile and puppy eyes ever seen.

—Eating with the boss and talking to him? I'm not risking it! —Oliver says, dead honest, not trusting himself.

—He is trying to reconnect with the team; he isn't going to judge you! Besides, Toto knows you are my besties.

Two long "aw" come your way.

—That's so cute, but NO! —Rose ends the conversation.

-

As you admire the new bouquet of tulips you get delivered the next day, your phone suddenly buzzes on your desk, distracting you from finishing updating the chart with the latest data.

—Lunchtime already? 😩🥙

—Who this? 👀

—Luke, I'm your father.

—He dead 🙏🌫️

—Oh, shit, sorry! Bad joke!

—💀💀💀

—There's no need to be that explicit.

—It means dying of laughter!

—Oh, shit, I'm old, it's Toto By The Way.

—I'm saving you with that name! How did you get my number?

—By boss privilege.

—YES! LET'S LUNCH PLEASE! I'm Hungarian.

—What?

—Typo sorry, hungry!

—HA! See you in five! 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

-

—Could going to lunch with someone at the cafeteria be considered a date? —you turn around in your office chair to address Oliver.

—Dreaming is free, bestie!

-

On your way to meet Toto, you bump into the most annoying senior engineer, Mr. Schäfer, in the corridor. 

OH GOD! Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me, you think as you two cross paths, but sadly, you notice him stop his step after making eye contact with you.

—Miss, Y/LN. A minute?

SHIT!

-

—Sorry I'm late! "Gwen Stefani" got me on my way here!

—Who? —Toto looks at you, amused and confused.

Shit! You burped out.

—Ahem, Mr. Schäfer —you quickly correct, taking your water bottle out of your bag and drinking it after rushing there. Toto stares at the couple of drops that escape your lips and slide down your chin and neck, and he swallows hard.

—What did you call him? —Toto asks, clearing his throat.

—Oh, don't mind me!

—Yes, mind you! It's a pretty accurate nickname, I must admit it, even if I shouldn't, but it fits —Toto shrugs nonchalantly, with a chuckle on his face. 

Schäfer is really pretty, lean, blond, pale, has big bambi's brown eyes, and his voice is so annoying.

And now you feel embarrassed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, as you two eat, Toto says: —Do I have a nickname?

—Oh, no, no one dares.

—Why? Do people fear me? —his expression changes to one of concern. —Maybe that would explain why people always seem to slow down their pace in the main corridor as soon as they see me inside the elevator. I always try to press the hold button to wait for them.

—This leaves me with a question: How do you fit in there? Your hair sure is touching the ceiling —he looks at you with an "Are you kidding me?" face. —No, for real!

—Don't avoid the actual question!

—Okay, okay, it's more like you intimidate. You look a bit, ahem, stern.

—Really? So, that was your first impression of me?

—Well, not really —you feel your cheeks turning red, fuck. —The first time I saw you, IRL.

—Sorry?

—In real life! You were being interviewed at the reception on that pearl/grey, awful porn movie-esque rug, which is inappropriate to say because the interviewer was a kid; anyway, It was something adorable to see. So that was my first impression of you, sweet and kind —his eyes soften at your answer, and you feel your knees touching beneath the table. —And also well lit —you joke. 

As you do your best at not being honest and admitting to Toto, you fell in love with him the first time you saw him. It was instant.

—Oh. 

-

Another week goes by, February starts, and the most stunning bouquet to this moment arrives. Okay, this one is a lot. 

—Good lord, "Creepy Flower Guy" went full force with this one; what did you do to him?! —Rose asks, jaw on the floor as she stares at that humongous thing.

—I have no fucking clue.

—You think he is about to reveal himself? —Oliver points out. —Maybe this is a "going out with a BANG!".

—Honestly, I don't care much about it anymore —you admit. You feel several heads turning your way, shocked.

"It's not who I would like it to be," you think. You don't need to say more to know that Oliver and Rose get it.

-

That working day was cut short since it was the Monster-sponsored "Spartan Race," a cross-fit competition. 

Many coworkers listed at the contest held outside on the garden grounds where a fancy circuit got built, but not you. You volunteered to help deliver the medals to the participants at the finish line.

In the meantime, you take a good spot with Oliver to watch the competition unfold and cheer for Rose.

—You go, Rambo! —you scream at her as she completes another obstacle course.

You watch Toto pass in those goddamn shorts, looking so hot, all sweaty. Toto's shirt's tight fabric on the skin leaves little to the imagination.

You meet him at the finish line an hour later, as you are now doing your duty. As soon as he notices you, he starts to jog in your direction with the most mischievous smile.

—Oh no, no, no! Don't you even...! —you receive the biggest and tightest hug from a sweaty, wet, and full of dirt and mud Toto.

—OH GOD! Get off! —you pull him away, making yucky faces.

—I was hoping to bump into you at the circuit! —he tells you, still with a lot of energy, as you place his gold medal on his neck, he is bending to your height.

—I'm not that sporty; you would have to drag me to the finish line.

—I would have gladly carried you around in these powerful arms! —he jokes while flexing.

You roll your eyes at him.

-

The next day, at your desk.

As you blast the newest episode of your favorite crime podcast, Rose and Oliver start making eye contact with you, trying to grab your attention, moving their eyes several times to the left as you take out your AirPods.

—WHAT?!

—Sure, those things cancel noise! I have spent about an hour trying to talk to you!

Oh shit, you jump a little at the sound of Toto's voice near your ear.

—Were you listening to a murder podcast? At work?! You are going to hurt your ears; I was able to hear it from here —Toto is leaning on the left side of your desk.

—Maybe... I was... —you look at him with squinted eyes, and he looks back at you the same way.

—What is that thing?! —Toto says, a bit disgusted at the exuberance, pointing to the enormous bouquet beside your computer.

—It's a long story —you try to avoid the subject.

—I want to hear it when I return. I will not join you at lunch today or the rest of the week.

—Bummer, where are you going then? —you turn in your chair to face him.

Everyone looks at you with a "Did you really ask the boss that?" face.

—Austria, It's my mom's birthday.

—Aw, sweet, wish her a happy birthday for me!

—I will —you look at each other tenderly, both wanting to say more. You suddenly feel the desperate need to hug Toto, but a simple: —See you next week, then! —comes out of your mouth, ending the interaction.

-

It's almost Valentine's Day, and Toto has returned from his little adventure in the mountains; he laughs when you text him that. You two talked even more than usual every day during his absence.

So you text him if you could go up to his office.

—Knock, knock —you say as you pop your head in at his door.

He brightens as he sees you, fully smiling at you, making your stomach feel butterflies. 

—Please, come in!

You approach his desk, holding something in your hands; it's an envelope with an invitation in the old-fashioned way. —Hi! —you smile big at him. —I have the obligation to invite you to the traditional "Lonely Hearts Party" on Valentine's Day!

—No one wants the boss at an outside-the-office party —he looks at you a bit taken out.

—Yeah, I know, we know. But still, you are invited. It's for singles only, assuming that you are single, which no one thinks you are, so here —you feel Toto's hand touching yours as you deliver him the envelope, leaving you with a lingering sensation on your fingers, a very Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy moment in your delulu mind.

—I'm going to be in Brazil, but thank you anyway, and yes, I'm single —he pays attention to your reaction to his words, and you pray for him not to notice the little happy smile forming on your lips. —Are you... are you like... seeing someone? —he asks you.

—I'm going to attend the Lonely Hearts Party, you think?! Listen, my neighbor, Miss Tailor, is 80 and has a boyfriend; even that old rag has seen more action than me this year!

Toto's palm goes onto his face, bursting with laughter; he is laughing so hard at your comment that no sound comes out of his throat, just hallows of air, and he goes all red, not believing your words. —You are quite something! —He lets you know and looks at you with adoration, his face resting on his hand and his elbow on the desk. 

—I know —you nod, kidding. —Anyway, have a nice day, and see you later!

-

During that day's lunch break, Toto demands you to explain to him in detail all about that "Creepy Flower Guy," he even ventures to guess who he is after listening to the whole story.

—Milo, Ben, and Ansel all have stared you down when you walk past in front of them, with lust obviously, and I heard Finn once complimenting your good looks to say it nicely —he informs you.

Is that jealousy you detect?

Toto does pay attention.

-

It's Wednesday, and your car is out in maintenance, so you make it extra early on that day at the office; you wanted to avoid risking it being late since you aren't used to using public transport to get there.

You make it just in time to witness Mike walking away from your desk inside your desert office through the glass panel wall from afar. As you walk to your chair, you notice new flowers are already in place. You feel your heartbeat going full speed and a wave of disappointment washing you over; what were you expecting, for it to really be Toto?

That entire day, you remain all moody and quiet, and your friends notice it, but you say nothing about it.

You even ask your boss to leave early, being unable to handle being near Toto today, which leaves him worried, judging by the four texts and two missed phone calls you received from him, wondering where you are and if everything is okay.

-

Four days later, you are like nothing has happened. As you walk your way to enter the building where you work, you notice Toto sitting alone in the distance, having a call; you slowly start to walk toward him, switching paths.

He finally has returned from his trip to Stuggart.

—Well, the "Creepy Flower Guy" saga has come to an end, my friend; I found out who he is —you inform him, unenthusiastic, as you sit on the bench in the pond's garden right next to him.

—You don't seem so excited —Toto's eyes look slightly concerned as he tells you.

—Well, no, to be honest.

—Drumrolls —Toto says, trying to lift your spirits, slapping his thighs, making the sound. —And the creep is?!

—Mike, from financial.

—Magic Mike?! —Toto lets out a bit too loud.

—Yep!

—Are you sure? Like 100%? But how?!

You nod. —I saw Mike near my desk in the early hours a couple of days ago, and the flowers were there as he was walking away from the crime scene! Also, by the drawer full of flower receipts at his office desk. They all match the types of bouquets I received and have the exact dates.

—Are you creeping around in people's offices again?

—WAIT A MINUTE! I wasn't creeping into your office! 

—Oh no? What were you doing near my desk? Looking for Niki's cake?

—Shut up! I was looking for you. 

—Yes, I love to hide myself in there —Toto playfully and softly pushes you. 

—And NO! I wasn't creeping around in Mike's office; Anita sent me to get the notice she needed, and I went there; it turns out Mike was on holiday, but he left the instruction to collect it from the drawer on his desk, and then I opened the wrong drawer and BAMB! It was full of receipts and bills from the flower company that delivered my flowers. Not to be nosy, but Magic Mike is doing pretty well; I had no idea how expensive they were!

—Wait! But you aren't telling me! Are you into Magic Mike? Do you fancy him?

—No, not him, anyway.

Toto stares intensely at you and wants to say more. If you weren't so in the zone, you would have noticed it and given him a chance, but no, you continue blurting out words.

—But I will go and thank him, I guess. I don't want to hurt him; he is lovely. Everyone told me to go out on a date with him. I don't feel like it right now, but it's not always love at first sight, right? Maybe that doesn't even exist; I was expecting to fall in love, you know, movie style, but that may not be real, or at least not for girls like me. Besides, Valentine's Day is approaching, and I don't feel like spending it alone again —you let out a sigh after talking forever.

—Weren't you going to that Lonely Hearts Party? It sounds fun. It's better than going on a date with someone you don't like just to feel better —Toto tells you a bit moody.

—Oh god, I love you; you are always right; you are so annoying —you add while hugging and kissing him on the cheek. —Is there any chance I can fit in your suitcase for Brazil? I wouldn't mind spending Valentine's Day with a hot Brazilian or at the beach.

Toto laughs while shaking his head.

—I have to go! —you complain, checking the hour on your smartwatch. —Unfortunately, I have work to pretend to do! 

—Sometimes I feel you forget I'm the boss here —he jokes with you as he crosses his arms and watches you walk backward, still facing him, getting further away.

—YES SIR!

-

It's the Wednesday before Valentine's Day, and to everyone's surprise, the flowers stop arriving.

"Did Toto tell Mike I don't like him and to stop sending me flowers?" You take out your phone to text him.

—Apparently, even "Creepy Flower Guy" gave up on me.

—Really?! —Toto replies.

—Yes. No flowers today.

He gives you no further information, no replying text comes your way.

-

It's Valentine's Day, and you are wearing a shiny red mini dress with matching bow heels to the Lonely Hearts Party.

You took your time doing your makeup, which you feel you nailed, and your hair looks sleek. 

As you check yourself in the mirror, you feel confident and hot!

-

After several drinks and enjoying the music and the vibe, you relish the party, but your mind keeps wandering to the anticlimactic ending of the flower guy mystery.

The only crime and murder here was the one of your feelings and heart.

Two hours later, you start to feel bummed out enough after witnessing many hookups and new couples forming, slightly envious of them and feeling lonelier than ever, aching that Toto was here with you instead of Brazil. You decide you've had enough and are about to leave when you feel a soft finger tap on your right shoulder. You turn around to see who it is.

Definitely, you aren't ready for the scene that greets you.

Toto is standing right before you, holding a bouquet in his hands, looking extremely handsome, with a shy smile on his lips.

—What are you doing here?! —you look astonished at him. Am I that drunk?! Thinking you are seeing things now.

—I felt like delivering them to you in person from now on —he offers you the roses.

Your brain takes its time to process his words and what's happening. This is really happening.

—You are? —you try to say and instinctively grab the bouquet.

—The Creepy Flower Guy, yes.

You laugh at the sound of the nickname on his lips.

—Let's call him "flower guy" from now on.

—Yeah, let's call him Toto better, or my love, if you prefer. I hope you aren't as disappointed this time.

—But Mike? —you ask, confused.

—Have you ever heard of the terms invoice and tax returns? He does my accounting, too. Mike helped me deliver the flowers till I felt ready to show myself. He is a long friend of mine.

—That's why he had all the receipts; that makes sense. Wait!

You close the distance between Toto and you and place a kiss on his lips; getting on your tiptoes, he slowly and hungrily starts kissing you more, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, not letting you move an inch away from him.

—Thank you for the flowers, my love but weren't you supposed to be in Brazil by now? —you ask him as you both catch your breaths.

His lips are so soft and warm.

—Oh, I'm going to be in Brazil soon, but I forgot to mention to you that you would also be there. Happy Valentine's Day, my love! —he gives you another long and delicious kiss.

—Shouldn't I have packed? —you ask against his lips, already overthinking.

Toto shakes his head.

—We aren't going to need much clothes, anyway. -

Would you like to read another Toto fic? Masterlist: Here

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[jassy2uall]

I’d Never Forget Our Anniversary (pt. 3)

Billie Eilish x fem!Reader

“This time, you are celebrating your anniversary with your girlfriend, Billie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the day. Yours and Billie’s actual anniversary.

You’d spent the night tangled in blankets and laughter, reflecting on the chaos of the past year—silly arguments, long drives, slow mornings, and those late-night “I love you”s whispered into the dark when everything else was quiet.

But none of it compared to this. Today marked one full year, and every second of it felt like something you’d dreamed of writing—but never quite captured—until now.

You woke up to an empty bed, your brows furrowed, until Billie reappeared in the doorway holding a breakfast tray that was somehow bigger than her grin. Pancakes stacked high, a tiny cup of warm maple syrup, fresh-squeezed orange juice, perfectly scrambled eggs, and sausage, all arranged with more care than you'd ever expect her to admit.

“Breakfast for my baby,” she said, placing the tray gently on your lap.

You lit up, pulling her in for a kiss. “You’re so sweet.”

“Only the best for you,” she replied, crawling back under the covers beside you and watching like you were the sunrise.

You sat there together in your little cocoon, the world outside forgotten. Just soft giggles, food-sharing, syrupy fingers, and lingering touches beneath the sheets. It was everything love was supposed to be—messy, warm, delicious.

After breakfast, you got ready. Billie wore a black fitted button-up with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and the silver chain necklace you got her for her birthday. You slipped into a champagne-colored dress—soft, flowing, like poetry in motion—and styled your hair just enough. Billie stared for a solid thirty seconds before her mouth finally caught up.

“You look like a dream. Like… a real-life angel.”

You laughed and kissed her cheek. “And you’re my favorite cliché.”

Billie already knew what the day held—you’d told her in advance being how you did mix up your actual anniversary. But she still didn’t expect her nerves to kick in so hard until you were both floating off the ground in the hot air balloon.

At first, she grinned, holding your hand like a kid about to ride their first roller coaster. But as the ground got smaller, her grip tightened. Her smile wavered.

“Babe?” you said softly.

She didn’t look at you—just stared out at the horizon. “Y-yeah. I’m good. Totally fine. Love the view. So, um…high up.”

You touched her arm. “Billie. Are you afraid of heights?”

She blinked fast. “I didn’t think I was.”

Then the basket creaked slightly with the breeze. Billie stiffened like a board.

“Okay. Yeah. I’m afraid. I’m totally freaking out.”

You tried not to laugh, gently rubbing her back. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you were so excited! And I wanted to be all romantic and fearless and boyfriend-coded or whatever.”

“Billie,” you said, cupping her face. “Being scared doesn’t make you less romantic. It just makes you human. And cute. Very, very cute.”

She buried her face in your shoulder, groaning. “Can we go back down now?”

Eventually, the pilot agreed to cut the trip short, descending slowly and gently. As soon as you touched the ground, Billie dropped to her knees and kissed the grass.

“I will never disrespect the earth again.”

You were still laughing as you helped her up, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Still the best view I’ve ever had.”

—

Later that afternoon, you took a walk downtown. It wasn’t exactly peaceful—paparazzi trailed you both, snapping photos, calling out questions.

“What are you two celebrating?”

“It’s our anniversary,” Billie answered, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Some of them actually backed off after that, which was rare. Surprising, even.

After browsing a few shops, the two of you wandered into a quiet little jewelry store tucked between a bookstore and a coffee shop. The lighting inside was golden and warm, the air smelling faintly of wood and vanilla. Tiny glass cases glimmered with simple, beautiful things.

Billie brushed your hand with hers. “Hey. Can I show you something?”

She led you to a case where two delicate silver rings sat side by side—one etched with a tiny star, the other with a crescent moon.

Your breath caught. “They’re perfect.”

She hesitated, voice soft. “Promise rings?”

You nodded, heart thudding. “Yes.”

You each slipped one onto the other’s finger, hooking pinkies after for good measure.

“I promise to love you even when you're being dramatic,” she said.

You grinned. “And I promise to love you even when you nearly faint in hot air balloons.”

—

That night, dinner was at your favorite restaurant again—a cozy, candlelit place with soft jazz and warm lighting. It was the same one where you’d waited for her the night before. Thankfully, none of the same staff was on tonight.

Billie reached across the table, tracing circles on your palm.

“I can’t believe you were sitting here all night waiting for me,” she said quietly.

“Forget about it, babe,” you said, brushing it off with a smile. “I’m just glad my waiter isn’t here. He felt a little bad for me,” you added, sipping your champagne.

Billie let out a nervous laugh, her gaze falling to your lips as you drank. She admired you quietly for a while, like she still couldn’t believe you were hers. The way you glowed under the candlelight, how at home you looked in love.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

You looked at her and mouthed a shy “stop,” but she didn’t. She just reached for your hand again.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a total simp,” she said, “but… this has been the best day of my life.”

You smiled, cheeks warm. “I have one more thing for you.”

You pulled a folded piece of paper from your bag and placed it carefully on the table. The poem. The one Billie had been begging you to share.

“I wrote this for you. And I want to read it out loud.”

Billie’s eyes softened. She nodded, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

You looked up at her—really looked at her—and began:

Hopelessly In Love

by Me

I fell in love

Before I knew who you truly were.

Those beautiful blue ocean eyes—

I feel myself getting pulled into them.

I can’t fight it,

And I don’t want to.

You're everything I imagined and more,

Everything that I love and adore.

You speak in glances and hold me in silence,

You touch like a promise—

Soft, steady, certain.

Even your flaws feel like poetry to me.

The way you hate mornings,

The way you love too loud,

The way you say my name

Like it’s a home you never want to leave.

Before you, love felt distant—

Like a language I didn’t speak.

But with you, it’s fluent,

It’s natural,

It’s ours.

You taught me that I don’t have to be perfect

To be worthy of something this real.

That broken things can be beautiful,

When they’re held right.

I look at you and see my future—

Messy and magical,

Quiet and chaotic,

But always, always full of you.

And if I had to do it all again,

I’d still choose you,

In every lifetime,

In every version of this story.

Because the truth is—

I’m hopelessly in love with you.

And there’s no place I’d rather be

Than right here,

In this moment,

Forever yours.

By the end, Billie was silent, her eyes shimmering under the candlelight. She blinked quickly and brushed a tear away.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever loved me like that,” she whispered. “Not the way you just said it.”

You leaned across the table and cupped her face. “That’s because no one else gets to. You’re mine.”

Her bottom lip trembled slightly. She let out a shaky laugh, trying to play it cool, but her eyes gave her away.

“I swear, you ruin me,” she said. “In the best way. That poem… I don’t know how you do that. How you make words feel like they were always meant for me.”

“Because they were,” you said. “Every word I write that sounds like love—it’s you. Even before I met you, I think I was writing toward you.”

She took your hand again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then your wrist, slow and deliberate.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she said. “I know I mess up sometimes—okay, a lot. But I never want to stop trying to be better. For you. For us.”

“I don’t need perfect,” you said. “Just real. And you’re the most real thing I’ve ever had.”

Suddenly, she stood, pulling you gently up from your seat. You giggled as she led you out onto the private balcony. The city lights stretched out below like stars made just for you.

She wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her forehead to yours.

“Dance with me,” she whispered.

“There’s no music.”

“I don’t care.”

So you danced—slow, clumsy sways, your laughter echoing into the night. The city hummed below you, and above, only stars and silence.

Eventually, she sighed, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna keep that poem forever,” she said. “Like… printed. Framed. Tattooed on my soul.”

You laughed, tucking your face into her neck. “Good. Because there’s more where that came from.”

She pulled back, looking into your eyes. “Then I can’t wait to read every chapter.”

And under the stars, with promise rings on your fingers and poetry in your hearts, the story you were writing together felt like the most beautiful thing in the world.

And the best part?

You knew it was only the beginning.

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Author's Note: Phew, it’s finally done! I’m so sorry it took me so long; college was really stressful. But I’m free for now, and more Billie fanfic is on the way!