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nsharks · 1 year

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Hi! I love love LOVE the way you write Ghost and his relationship w/ the reader!! Ignore me if requests are closed, but how did he react when the reader discovered she was pregnant???

"surprising ghost with a pregnancy" words: 1.8k tags: pregnant reader, fem!reader, slight angst?, fluff

“Hope ya don’t miss me during breaks, Lt.”

Soap watches the man he admires, in his infamous ruthlessness and all, stare with a straight gaze at the base’s entrance.

“Only when I drink too much,” Ghost says.

His mask is good for anonymity, yes. But it also does well in moments like these: the Scot beside him has no idea of the pulsing artery in his neck, the eagerness in each flicker of his gaze. He’s looking for you. Looking beyond the gates where you should be hidden somewhere.

Soap has no idea.

“What do you do in your free time, mate?” Soap wonders aloud, shifting the bag over his shoulder. Then, in a cheeky murmur, “Didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard whispers ‘bout some criminal activity.”

“Criminal activity?” Ghost repeats dully.

They’re getting closer.

He looks towards the spot you normally wait for him in: is that—?

He can see you.

The tension in his limbs fades to adoration. In the shadows, perfectly hidden but readily visible to his knowing eyes, is his girlfriend. Wearing one of the black hoodies he’d left behind. So big on you. He nearly groans at the sight.

Girlfriend is a weak title.

He hates it. It doesn’t encompass the truth of you: it’s such a simple word, too simple to capture how complicated of an effect you’d had on his life for nearly five years. To say Ghost loves his girlfriend would be to say he has a reason to live. It would be to say that you’ve got this behemoth of a man wrapped so tightly around your finger that his lungs just don’t work the same until he’s holding you.

(Perhaps that’s the reason for the little black box in his bag.)

He turns to the Sergeant and gives a half-hearted clap to his shoulder. “I save the criminal activity for weekends, Johnny.”

And with that, he leaves him (never was one for heartfelt goodbyes).

But he is now one for heartfelt reunions, he figures, because he’s ghosting his way towards you like some wild creature. Preying. Slipping under any eyes. His skeletal hands beyond desperate.

If Soap were to look carefully outside, under the shadow of the building, he’d see how the Lieutenant actually spends his free time.

He’d see his broad form envelop you.

He’d see him eagerly inch up his mask to reveal a pink mouth that doesn’t waste any time before sealing over yours.

And maybe, if he really looked, Soap might’ve been able to see how you cling to Ghost’s chest and tremble.

(But Soap doesn’t see any of this. Not today.)

Not even Ghost, whose got you in his arms, sees the shaking at first. His mind is a bit frenzied with the sensory overload of your smell, your soft hair, your breasts against his chest.

He only ends the kiss so he can get a good look at your face.

“Three months,” he grumbles, lips wet as he ushers the mask back over them. “Felt like a fuckin’ lifetime.”

“I know,” you whisper, but you fail to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you.”

The faintest contour of a smirk beneath his mask.

“Worried, were you?” He rubs your knuckles. “Lovely girl. Don’ worry about me. I’m a bit tough to kill.”

“Don’t,” your eyebrows pinch together. “Please… don’t even mention that.”

He rests his masked chin on top the crown of your head. His arms are so strong and warm and you breathe it all in. His hands stroke your hair with the gentlest of caresses as if, even after five years, he thinks you might be a fragile dream.

“I was so worried,” you say again. A whisper that he barely hears. “I—“

It’s now that he notices something. The rush of adrenaline has soothed over and now, taking your hands in his, Ghost notices the little tremors, swallows them up in the gulf of his large palms.

“Jesus, love,” he frowns. “You’re trembling.”

“There’s… something—“

Ashen eyelashes flutter against smudges of black paint. His shoulders tense as he pulls his chin away from your scented hair. Shifting his weight from boot to boot, Ghost further tucks you behind the colossal mass of him so even now, if someone were to look, all they’d see was his back.

His brows furrow behind a hard-shell skull. “What something?”

You’ve practiced these word so many times but now—

“What?” your boyfriend repeats, low and gruff. His relief is quickly turning into something dark. “Fuck, tell me. Did somethin’ happen?”

“Well, yes—“

“Christ,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to assume the worst, but it’s a gnawing fear. Always. “Someone else?”

“No, Simon.” You’re shaking your head. “It’s not that—“

“What is it then? What’s got you like this?”

“Just—“ and you swallow your fear, “Give me your hand, baby.”

“My hand,” he repeats numbly and offers you one. You take his hand and tug at the glove. There’s little give, so he swears under his breath and helps you pry the fabric off to reveal warm, calloused skin.

Here, tucked away outside a military base, you guide his bare hand under the hoodie you’ve got on. Hold his fingers and spread them apart so he can cup the small growth of your stomach.

Because the reason for your trembling lies here.

Small, growing. Supple skin stretching over a little piece of him and you.

It takes him a moment to process the news under his hand.

He smooths his hand over you. Even after three months, he knows every inch.

This—

This feels different.

You watch a kaleidoscope of realizations, feelings, and perturbation play in his eyes.

You’ve had to keep this secret to yourself for weeks now because it wasn’t something you could just share over the phone. It was too heavy. Too intimate.

Surely, it’ll distract him from his job.

That’s what you figured. But now—

—seeing his eyes cloud frantically, you wonder if showing up 16 weeks pregnant was the best move.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost murmurs. Keeps moving his hand over your little belly as if he’s not quite sure it’s real.

So you lift up the hoodie even more, just here for the two of you to see, and reveal the entirety of your secret for him to peer down at.

And now that he sees it, the unmistakeable bulge, the reality truly sinks in.

He’s silent at first. You kind of expected him to be: your boyfriend is a man of few words. But it doesn’t make the drawn-out moment of uncertainty any less excruciating. You study his eyes with a bated breath.

Children. It’s not something you talked about too much. He’d said in the very beginning that it was completely off the table because “I’d make an awful father”.

But that was years ago and Simon had molded into someone softer, someone less afraid. Someone who, with the help of your love and light, had ripped through the tangled ropes of distrust and guilt that he’d been caught in.

“Say something,” you finally whisper. “Please, Simon. I know- I know this is surprising.”

But all he utters is, “How?”

“The pill isn’t perfect,” you explain sheepishly. “That’s what the doctor told me—“

“…Doctor?”

“Well, I’ve been to the doctor a few times already.”

Lowly, “You… a few times?”

“To make sure everything was alright, baby,” you whisper carefully. “But I— I didn’t ask for the sex yet. I wanted to… I thought you’d want to be with me for that.”

Ghost is controlled. He’s precise and tactical and rarely caught off-guard. But this, the swell that lays under his hand which he hasn’t been able to look away from, has managed to thrust him into feelings he rarely experiences. He feels confused. Shaken to the core. He’s spent most of his adult life determined to stay alone, protect anyone from ever getting caught in the hallow storm of tragedy that is his life.

But you—

You infiltrated his life with promises of bright colors and warm touches and suddenly, somehow, Ghost began to enjoy coming home. He ached for it. He wanted to keep you close and safely tucked away so that little light of yours would never fade from his life.

And now you’ve given him another promise, one that rests in his palm. Death— he understands that too well, perhaps. But this little promise of life is so new and confusing and in mere seconds, it has torn the past from the future. Ghost could never be the same shell of a person he once was because now he’s been filled to the brim. Could he even be trusted with all of this? He’d always felt like there was a carved void where his boyhood had been taken from him, ripped away by terror. How could he be a father with such hole in his chest?

What could he give?

You’re crying. He’s been thrown into such a daze that he failed to notice the onslaught of tears and quiet sniffling coming from his girl.

“Hey,” he’s grounded in the present now, swallowing down the shards of his hesitation and wrapping his arms around you. He could give this. “Hey now. I’m here… I’m here.”

“You’re here?” you ask him, weeping.

“Yes, sweetheart. Christ, m’here. Always.”

In perhaps his first act of fatherhood, Ghost holds you close and murmurs promises of love and safety into your hair. You’d been so scared to tell him. He wouldn’t leave you, no, he could never. If there was ever an ounce of worry that he might—

It’s now smothered by his presence, his warmth, his strength.

“You’re making me a father,” Ghost whispers after the two of you just stand there for sometime. His voice: terrified and in awe all at once. “Don’t know if I’ll be a good one.”

“Simon-“

“But-“ And he gives the entirety of you a squeeze. He’s not going anywhere. “But I won’t be like my old man. Fuck, I swear it to you.”

“I know you won’t, Simon.”

Ghost decides to push his inhibitions to the back of his mind. He can be strong, he can be what you need. He will prove this to you over and over.

“And here I thought you jus’ liked wearing my clothes,” Ghost mumbles, a bit numb and a bit elated.

He reaches for your stomach again and rubs the bump over the fabric of his hoodie. (Perhaps, here lies another reason to live.)

Your crying has ceased. Twisting his uniform in your hands, you murmur with a weak laugh, “Might be the only thing that fits me soon.”

“Bloody hell.” And Ghost sighs. Holding the two of you now, he already feels like all the synapses in his brain have been rewired. Lighted up with a primal urge to protect, he doesn’t think about all the worries for right now. No— just thinks about how he’s going to smother your stomach with kisses once you’re home.

“I’ve got plenty more of those for you to wear.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #call of duty #fluff #pregnancy #dad ghost

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thefreakandthehair · 3 months

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we feel a little warmer now.

rating: teen & up | wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-typical injuries, pre-relationship, getting together, fluff, light hurt/comfort | prompt: love is a fire that never goes out @steddielovemonth & a happy birthday gift for @henderdads! title from the woods, by hollow coves.

February in Indiana is still the dead of winter— cornfields are barren, trees sway in the wind without their leaves, and the sky seems to have a sheer layer of grey even on the cloudless days.

Eddie’s always loved winter. The shorter days followed by longer nights, snowy Sundays, watching the smoke from a joint or cigarette dance in the freezing air, and excuses to do donuts in the local abandoned grocery store parking lot. He’s always loved winter, or at least he did until his world shattered at his feet, leaving him with injuries that take ages to heal and scars that leave him perpetually cold.

It’s been difficult to explain, even to the people who’d lived it with him. He can’t fully enjoy winter anymore because the cold seeps into his bones, maybe through the scars, maybe just because of the nerve damage. He’ll never know for sure because Hawkins General doesn’t exactly have a Demobat Specialist on staff so he just keeps it to himself.

Well, mostly. Steve knows.

Hiding anything from Steve has proven impossible. His constant chill, his frustration with the new but still-improving limp, the grief, the guilt, the confusing simultaneous euphoria of survival. The only secret he’s managed to keep is the big fat crush he’s harbored, probably since Steve helped find him in the woods.

Maybe earlier. Maybe since high school. He tries not to think about it too much.

The point is, Steve knows and even if Eddie hasn’t said that it breaks his heart to lose the quiet winter nights smoking on the porch or the hood of his van, Steve figures that out, too.

He must, because Eddie nearly jumps out of his freezing skin when knuckles rap on the front door of his and Wayne’s new trailer. There’s a system these days: check the peep hole, crack the door with the chain still attached to confirm, and only then does Eddie open the door completely. An unfortunate system, but he’s far from the town hero that Steve’s been hailed as, albeit against his will.

Speaking of, through the peep hole, he sees Steve standing on his porch wrapped in what looks like a thick hoodie and winter coat.

“Who goes there?” Eddie asks, cracking the door and peering out with one eye.

“It’s me, you ass. Let me in, I have a surprise.”

The door chain unhooks with a metallic click and Steve enters the trailer like he belongs there.

Because he does, Eddie thinks.

“A surprise? For me? Oh, do tell.”

Steve stands in the living room, a live wire if Eddie’s ever seen one. His hair is a little messy, as though he’s been raking his fingers through it. His nose is pink, complemented by his frosty cheeks, and his eyes are wide and wild.

“If it’s overstepping or whatever, we can pretend I never mentioned it but I know how much you miss winter nights. And I uh, I built a fire pit at my house?” His voice pitches up, as though it’s a question.

“You built a fire pit? Today?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be honestly, time consuming but, yeah. I built a fire pit. And I was thinking that maybe with the fire and some blankets and a good jacket— a real winter coat, not just your leather jacket— you might be able to get some of that back.”

Eddie tries his best not to think about Steve lugging brick pavers and forcing them into place, thinking about Eddie and his stupid broken internal thermostat. Wanting to give him back something the Upside Down took. Worrying Eddie would somehow see this as overstepping.

It’s a quick Yes and even quicker drive to Loch Nora, a drive that Eddie’s always found hilarious. How can two neighborhoods exist so close together but feel like different worlds?

The whole way there, Eddie keeps Steve talking. If Steve’s talking, there’s less room for Eddie to spill yet another truth inadvertently, the only one left to spill. Instead, he asks questions about work, and Robin, and if he’s heard from his parents.

(“It sucks,” “she’s great,” “nope”. In that order.)

Pulling into the driveway, Eddie hops out of the car as best he can in one of Wayne’s old winter coats and follows Steve to the backyard. His jaw drops when he sees exactly what Steve’s done. More than a simple circle of bricks, there’s a pit made of concrete blocks in the center of a larger circle filled with wood chips and grey pavers marking the perimeter. Wood logs are already split in a pile off to the side next to two lawn chairs and dear God, Eddie really hopes that Steve bought that already split. He’s still not over him swinging on demobats with his bare hands, and the image of him with an axe is enough to put him down for good.

“C’mon, I’ll get it started,” Steve nudges their shoulders together and walks through the pit to the stack of logs.

Steve gets a roaring fire going, the kind that cracks and burns both red and blue, and passes Eddie an extra blanket. Flames dance beneath the clear sky, speckled with stars that do little to distract him from how unbearably warm he is for the first time in months.

People don’t just do things like this for him, not without expectation or out of obligation. So much of Eddie’s life has felt like a spectrum spanning from pity to transactional with very few exceptions in between.

Then again, Steve feels like an exception to a lot of things.

“Why?” Eddie eventually asks, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke like a kid seeing his breath.

Steve shrugs and tosses the butt of his own cigarette into the flames. “You lost enough down there, and I know how that feels. If there’s something easy enough to fix, I want to. You deserve that.”

Eddie turns and sees Steve smiling, just a soft upturn of his lips as he looks up at the sky. His face is flushed and Eddie wants to think it’s not from the flames.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Eddie says, scooting his chair over close enough for the arms of their chairs to nearly touch.

Steve looks back from the sky to Eddie, long lashes and the scar on his neck on full display.

“That a good thing?”

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe the best thing.”

They sit outside for hours, eventually sharing a blanket draped around their shoulders and a first kiss that lights him up from the inside.

Eddie’s warm long after the fire burns out.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #myblurbs #please consider reblogging if you enjoy <3 #also the song really lends a vibe to this and it's one of my favs so consider this a music rec too lmao

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unhetalia · 2 months

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I cannot see Arthur as anything other than a horny wolf in gentlesheep's clothing. He's always in impeccable, tailored suits and he tuts over Alfred showing up in jeans and a pastel pink cropped hoodie but he'll still step forward to open a door for him ... and then checks out his ass when Alfred walks through.

But despite being a raging pervert and horndog, he doesn't come out and ask people to fuck. It's all a series of rituals involving smirking and making subtle but pointed innuendos until his target is red in the face and desperate for him. Then he makes a comment about bathrooms or heading off back to his hotel. His success rate is nearly a hundred percent. NEARLY, because —

Alfred is the complete opposite of Arthur. He's no distinguished gentleman - prefers jeans and hoodies and his beaten up converse to suit and ties, and he rarely ever thinks about sex unless he's actually having it. Not that he doesn't get horny - he does! But his mind tends to be occupied with a million ideas and plans and sex is... not one of the things that'll come up in his head during the day.

It means that innuendos and flirting tend to go over his head - he can read conflict in the twitch of an eye and friendship in the tilt of a head, but sex is his blind spot.

So, unstoppable force (a horndog Arthur who gets sex without ever having to actually ask for it) meets immovable object (an Alfred who is blind to anything sexual out in the wild).

It's been one hundred years and Arthur has never succeeded in bedding Alfred.

Alfred is patiently waiting for Arthur to show him he's interested.

#ukus #usuk #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #aph #hetalia #aph america #aph england #hws america #hws england #m: hetalia #hetalia: headcanon (char)#hetalia: headcanon (ship)#s: england/america #c: england #c: america #.txt

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aroacesetitoff · 4 months

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Infinight Interns Reference Sheet + Headcanons

Bartholomew Finn

-Vest of Slow Descent-i made it green based off his canon design and then gave it "feathered" hems to allude to its ability

-pre-Draconic Transformation Bart-gave him silver jewelry and the only draconic traits are gold freckles, fangs, and shorter horns

-post-Draconic Transformation Bart-gold jewelry to match with his dad (Simsun), and of course claws and scales and larger horns

-boatswain's call whistle-a reference to the Jebediah + Capt. Marge

-gave him the thigh dagger sheath-cause why not. I think Bart's that character in movies that has a shit ton of knives hidden in the most improbable places

-he's got a 17 string lute, but lets be honest i aint drawing 17 strings. painted a wave design on the body and the soundhole/rosette has a dagger design

-Breath Diagem/lute pick ftw

-scars on his hands (from doing hot boi sailor shit)

-not shown but i think he's got a bunch of tattoos (like "I <3 Mom" for Marge, flowers for Gum Gum, crossed anchors, etc.)

-pupils are slitted like dragons and a very dark shade of blue

Kyborg the Mighty/Kydelius of Everwinter

-Fun Fact: i used to do archery! so some of his gear is based off of stuff I had. But you know cooler

-Canonically his hair pretty loose, and its pretty but my god its gonna get caught up in his bowstring man. braided/tied it back for practicality

-thigh highs. no notes

-gave him an armored version w/ fur because his current design didn't feel like Everwinter-y enough

-its not terribly visible but he has the Belt of Sick Trick so i put a bird on it (vaguely Tony Hawk reference)

-the Longer Bow Krystallina-gave it a snow fall design + red accents

-scars from archery, since this guy shoots barebow

-the left (flesh arm) side is the most armored and unscarred, and the right (metal arm) side is scarred + unprotected (bc u know its metal)

-pupils are really dark shade of red as a reference to the Source Diagem

-metal arm-i took an anatomy class not a robotics one, so the structure is based off human musculature (kinda) and i put the Source Diagem in his shoulder instead of his hand

Gum Gum Galindor

-star boi 🌟

-constellations on the inside of the brim of his hat that Bart sewed for him-(Bart's a sailor, he knows his constellations)

-the flowers (orange @ blue) on his hat represent him & Bart. The orange ones bigger bc u know thats his big bro right there

-the hoodie+pauldron+cross body strap combo is a direct copy of Bart's design bc thats what younger siblings do u know

-made the patches to repair his coat stars bc why not

-Random Axe of Kindness-the cute lil heart does not detract from the fact that its an axe

-timeskip design i went for a gardener vibe bc he works in the Orchidnage now-i think despite having the worst dad of the group, Gum Gum would be a pretty good father figure

-Staff of Flowers-i wanted to reference Dia w/ this one so I tried to have this be the most colorful part

-Bart pierced his ears at one point

-i gave him constellation freckles that showed up post Dia reveal

-he has his manacles yeah but i wanted to design friendship bracelets for the rest of the team

-Mudd's-green thread with pink & white flower beads-the charm is Gumbo

-Bart's-leather cord with blue & gold beads and an anchor charm

-Kyborg's-brown leather cord, green beads, and a red arrow charm

-made his pupils a lighter shade of blue that glows when he uses Wild Magic

-edit: lots of scars, some from fighting, a lit from just tripping and shit. Also a dog bite from that one time

Mudd Bramblecrack

-i love him but it was so hard to come up with a design

-the pink streak keeps moving bc im inconsistent and also bc he has to redye/cut his hair constantly

-the "fur" cloak is the Cloak of the Secluded Garden, and its actually pine leaves & grass

-gave him a very simple tunic w/ a bramble design bc we would try to disguise his noble bg

-i put Mudd in a kilt bc i have free will and also he's Scottish. I dont think he would ever wear one unless for formal occasions tho bc i think they take a while to put on

-Gumbo :) + badger armor -this ones very specifically inspired by Lonna Bowstripe from the Redwall series

-originally had the purple gems on his tunic, made em earrings instead bc thats cooler

-Bramblecrack signet (?) ring-also the Virtues Diagem. Both this and his earring are purple bc its an ace reference (for me). The ring is definitely an ace reference bc i made it a black metal and put it on his right middle finger (ifykyk)

-pink paw pads + talons-less of a firbolg thing, more of a Moon Druid thing

-eyes are a rlly dark shade of green but glow a brighter shade when Wildshaping

-pupils are a rlly dark shade of purple (Diagem ref) and also horizontal like cows

Okay I think that's everything. If not ill just come back and edit it 🤷. working on the OG Infinights next so stay tuned or whatever

#my art #tales from the stinky dragon #tftsd #bartholomew finn #stinkydragonpod #mudd bramblecrack #kyborg the mighty #gum gum galindor #headcanons

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cyborg-franky · 11 months

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Worst People To Bring Home...

Based on a poll I did the other day.

It had two days left but ehhh 1 day isn't enough and 7 days is too much tbh.

Well done Marco for being lowest on this. I am concern Sabo wasn't higher.

Under the cut is some of my FAVE tags/replies.

Doffy

The age gap might be the first concern of your folks when you bring Doffy home, that and how much cleaning up after that big shedding feather coat will be needed.

You won’t even get to introduce him, he’ll be there with a big shit-eating grin with his arms wide going MOM DAD even though you have only been dating like a month.

Prepare for the most awkward time of your life when your folks ask about his family.

Maybe get your folks some bulletproof vests in case something mildly offends Doffy at the dinner table, like your mom didn’t cook his steak how he liked.

Will sit there and go on about how much nicer the food is at all the fancy restaurants he can afford to take you.

Brings his own solid silver cutlery.

Offers NO help to your folks when cleaning up after.

Brought his own wine, wine that costs more than your car.

But brought the cheapest wine he could find as a dinner gift.

Laughs loudly and talks over your folks.

Will touch your ass in front of them.

Sheds pink feathers everywhere, and butts in conversations because he can’t wait for his turn, loving the sound of his own voice.

When asked why Doffy you just shrug and tell them how much he makes monthly and your parents sort of get it but don’t like it.

Ask you to blink twice if you want out of the relationship.

Kid

Does not take his huge clunky muddy boots off when he comes into the house, because there are too many straps and buckles and god knows what else.

He grunts in reply to things like a stroppy teenager when asked anything by your folks.

Goes to reapply his lipstick every so often and your dad asks if he always wears so much makeup and nail varnish.

0 Table manners. Is a wild mess when he doesn’t have Killer to reel him in.

If he does take off his shoes you have to deal with his bare feet and the smell.

Hands your mom a bunch of flowers that clearly were stolen from somewhere.

It’s the thought that counts right?

Wears so many piercings that every airport security in the country fears him.

Enough spikes and bling to be an anti-theft device.

Will hit on your mom a little, something casual like ‘Man your mom's banging, what? I meant it as a compliment jeez’

Your parents are lowkey scared of him but try and be nice because he mentions how no one messes with you and he does seem to love and respect you.

Burps and laughs.

Luffy

Alright! Your folks think look at this little guy, look at this little man with his straw hat and polite smile.

Sure he opens doors with all his might and leaves marks but he seems super friendly and shakes your dad's hand and gives your mom a hug.

You think it’s going well until actual dinner starts and Luffy starts telling stories of him and his brothers and all the dumb shit the three get up to and your parents start to think you are dating one of the three stoogies.

He also talks with his mouth open, eats off everyone's plates, and asks if you're done with that? And eats it before anyone has a chance to answer.

Eats loud, food flying everywhere in a flurry of grabby hands and loud billowing laughs at comments, he’s having a great time.

Your folks have no idea where this little string bean is putting it all.

Asking how you guys met and Luffy just says someone was bothering you and he punched them through a wall or something.

Info dumps about stuff, annoying your parents a little but… you could have brought worse home, right?

Law

Your folks are EXCITED to meet your fancy smart doctor-surgeon boyfriend.

Imagine their horror when they see Law with his eye bags, scruffy hoody, and jeans, all his tattoos death on his hands.

They exchange looks and definitely think he’s a doctor of something else and when you're alone in the kitchen ask if he is a dealer and or a stoner which you have to tell them it’s just sleep deprivation mixed with cheap energy drink.

When folks ask him about what it’s like to be a doctor he goes into too much detail about certain issues or surgeries that put everyone off of their food.

He’s also the fussy eater that people dread coming over to their house.

After folks went to lengths to make sure they got food he wanted he’d still reject it and end up eating a bowl of rice or cereal looking like he’s about to fall asleep any second.

Says creepy shit with a straight face or a smile.

Says things in inappropriate ways like ‘I can’t wait to be inside them and fix their heart’

But hey, at least he’s a doctor?

Zoro

Zoro always seems to have a wave of intimidation wherever he goes and your parents are a little scared of him when you and Zoro rock up.

Though he’s polite enough, if not a bit quiet.

When asked things by folks he just gives one-word replies until he’s asked about booze then he’s all ears, he’ll drink all the good stuff but at least he’s talking now?

Oh great now he’s talking.

About swords.

His special interest which he goes into great detail about. Now your parents think he’s one of those nutjobs who are ready for the zombie apocalypse.

Drinks and eats so much, talks about swords, gets out his phone and shows your dad each sword in his collection, twenty facts about them, and what their name is.

Falls asleep on the sofa after dinner and is impossible to move, guess Zoro just moved in with you guys.

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filmtv2022 · 9 months

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One More Ride (18+ MDNI)

All Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: Rhett & Y/N spend their last night in Wabang together. Pushing away the weight of the world by falling into one another's arms.

Warnings: SMUT (this is probably the filthiest thing I've written so far) + language

A/N: I've had the general idea for this story brewing for a while. This story is a one-shot standalone that isn't connected to my series "By Your Side", but if you want more Rhett content... might I suggest that you go read that too! Enjoy & I apologize for any mistakes!

Bright hues of orange and pink washed over the wispy clouds high in the sky above the pasture. The mountains and far-off forest sat dark on the horizon. An evening breeze picked up as the sun continued to sink, throwing goosebumps over your socked feet and bare arms. It would have been easy to go and grab a hoodie from the cab of the old pickup, but you didn’t want to miss any of the sunset. Digging your toes underneath the pile of blankets that covered the bed of the truck, you leaned back, letting the warmth of Rhett’s solid frame behind you soak in your skin.

Night was quickly settling over the wild landscape, the Abbott house was barely more than a black spot in the distance. The quiet moment stretched on as you memorized the way the light painted the sky, creating a glittering mosaic of colors. The saturation changed the longer you watched. The bright oranges and pinks faded into dusky blues and purples, which you knew would eventually morph into inky blackness. Sitting here, the reality of what was coming felt heavy in the air. Change was coming, and if tradition held, the Abbott family did poorly with accepting that the world continued to turn, paving the way for the future. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, reveling in the woodsy musk of Rhett’s cologne. His lips pressed a constant kiss to your hair as his hands held firmly to him. An edge of anxiety was obvious in the way he kept you close. One hand gripped tightly onto your waist, while the other drew absent-minded patterns over your thigh. Tracing over the bumps and frays of your jeans before following the line of the seams, picking at the loose threads.

“You don’t have to do this you know? You don’t have to ride tomorrow. We can leave tonight,” Turning your head to look up at him, you watched his jaw clench, “You just say the word, Rhett, and we’re gone.”

Looking down at you, his blue eyes ran dark in the dusty light, “You know it’s not that simple.”

“I know,” reaching up to hold his cheek, you pleaded with him to stay with you, to not look away, “but I also know that the only person in that house right now that gives a shit about you is Amy. And she already knows what's going to happen or has guessed as much anyway. You don’t owe them shit, Rhett.”

“They’re family.” A pained look furrowed his brow.

Shifting further, you settled yourself in his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Your face now sat even with Rhett’s, as your hands came up to hold his face, his stubble scrapped lightly at your palms. Scanning over his features, you caught the way his anxiety had settled between his brows, the lines growing deeper the longer he sat with the knowledge of what was to come & the guilt of knowing he was finally going to escape.

“Yeah, they’re family, and that doesn’t change when you drive away from this town. They will always be here, waiting for you, Rhett. But that’s the thing, they’ll always be here. Do you remember what you said? What you've promised me every year since we were eleven?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Bullshit, you remember. Tell me what you said.”

Locking eyes with you, he spoke the words in a whisper, “I said that I'd get out, that I’d get both of us out.”

“That’s right, and you know what, it’s been long enough. It’s time. Nothing is holding us here, and If we don’t leave now… I don’t know if we ever will. This place is killing you, Rhett, and I’ll be damned if I let you stay here to die.” pressing your forehead into his, your soft breath fell over his face, “Be selfish for once in your fuckin’g life… ‘cause I can’t do this without you.”

“One more ride, that’s all that I’m askin’ for. Then we’re out.”

“For you this time, one more for you. Promise me that.”

“Promise.” Holding you close by the hips, his hand slid up the length of your back, burying itself in your hair so that he could press a gentle kiss on your lips.

The glow of the sunset cast his face in shadows as the gusts of air fluttered the loose pieces of hair around his ears. The errant strands, tickled the delicate skin along your temple, making you smile. Gingerly, you reached out and tucked them back into place. You weren’t ready to relinquish the feeling of him. Trailing your fingertips down the side of his neck, you rested your palms on his chest. Rhett used his strength to haul you even closer, as if he needed to pull you inside of himself, your chest flush with his as he slid a hand down your spine. His wide hands came to rest on your ass. Raking your hands over his sides, a shiver ran over his body at the feeling of your touch. The beer he’d been drinking sat sweetly on his breath as your lips brushed together.

Desperation for you filled his every move, you were the answer to every question that ran unchecked through his mind. His mouth found your neck, nipping at the tender flesh and leaving marks in the wake. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, he shifted beneath you, slotting a thigh between your own. Using his strength, he forced your weight down. Your thoughts swam at the pressure of him holding you in place on top of him, your hips moving of their own accord. A groan fell from his lips as your head fell back in pleasure.

Sinking his fingers into the sliver of skin that sat exposed between the hem of your shirt and your jeans, a shaky breath rattled from his lungs, “Fuck.”

“Rhett.” His name was nearly a whine as you called for him.

“I know, baby.”

Helping you move, a low groan rumbled from his chest as you continued to brush up against him. Each movement sent shock waves through his body. Rhett’s hands wandered, skimming over your chest before sinking back down. Toying with the button on your jeans, but leaving it closed, he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband. His callouses were rough against, you as he continued to move. Your lips found his neck as he ghosted over your core, the pressure just enough to leave you wanting more. Taking him by the wrist, you held him in place, encouraging him to continue and silently begging for more. The rapid rise and fall of your chest spurred him on, his nerves alight with anticipation.

A whimper tumbled from you as Rhett removed his hand from your hold, but the disappointment was short-lived. With his eyes locked onto you, Rhett's fingers fumbled with the button on your waistband. Popping it open, he wasted no time dipping his fingers below the fabric.

Your slick coated his fingers, “So fuckin’ wet. This all for me, Darlin’?”

“Yes, Rhett, all for you.” The touch was nearly too much and yet not enough.

A wanton moan ripped from you as he continued to bring you closer to the edge. Losing his self-control, Rhett rather hastily turned you over. Settling his weight between your legs, and rolling his hips into yours, earning a heady groan from you. The ridges of the truck bed pressed sharply into your back even through the layers of blankets, but that was so far from your mind. The only thing that mattered was him.

Rhett’s hands once again slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your bra. Mouthing at the top of your breasts, his patience for the garment in his way lasted only so long. His hand slipped behind your back, grasping for the clasp, and finding it. Moving just enough to free it from your body, he tossed it to the side before tugging your shirt the rest of the way off. You reached for the hem of his t-shirt, and he realized what you wanted, and quickly got rid of it

With both your tops dropped somewhere nearby, he dipped back down to capture your mouth, the kiss hungry and wild. Accepting everything that he gave, your back arched as he worshipped every inch of your body, his lips, and fingers tracing over the contours of your curves.

“So fuckin’ beautiful” he whispered as he trailed down the expanse of your stomach with featherlight kisses.

Moving lower, he gripped at your still-covered thighs, pressing kisses over your hips before turning his attention to your core. Carefully, he pushed your legs further apart, his thumb running lightly over where you needed him most, his lips following close behind, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Don’t be a goddamn tease, Rhett Abbott” Twining your fingers through his hair, you tugged at the strands trying to guide him in the right direction.

A low huff of laughter rumbled through his chest, “Getting impatient aren’t ya?.”

Sitting up, he peeled your jeans from your body, his hands raking over the newly exposed skin. The heat flowing through your veins left you reeling. Adjusting your position so that you were able to look into his eyes, you brushed your lips over his as you spoke, “Yeah, I am. Are you gonna do something about it… or should I take care of myself?”

Your hand smoothed over your underwear, pushing it aside, and you dipped your fingers beneath drawing a gasp from yourself. You stayed focused on him, daring him to make the next move. A challenge he happily accepted.

“Callin’ me a tease… jesus christ woman" Stripping off his own jeans and underwear, as quickly as he could, his boots also discarded, he wasted no time returning to you.

Crashing against, you, his sure touch replaced your own. Panting into his mouth, you gave yourself over completely to him. Moving in gentle strokes and circles with his fingers, he worked you closer and closer to the edge. Feeling your body stiffen, and your breaths turn into erratic heaves, he continued to rile you up.

“Fuck, Rhett!”

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want- I need to-” You couldn't finish your thought, but he knew very well what you were asking for, he could feel how close you were.

“After what you said earlier… you sure you deserve it?” he relished the scent of the whiskey on your breath from earlier as he swiped over your bottom lip, nipping lightly, before tasting you.

Ghosting over your entrance, he moved at a languid pace, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to tip you over.

“Don’t make me beg, Rhett.” Your hand that had been grasping at his ass, slipped between you two, finding him aching and waiting for your touch. Wrapping your fingers around him, you stroked him roughly, earning a deep groan.

“I wouldn’t dream of making you beg. Just let me enjoy this for a minute, darlin’” Smirking, he pushed your hips down into the blankets as he kissed down the column of your neck.

He paid close attention to the way your breath hitched as he expertly found your most sensitive areas. Working his way down your frame, he held you in place as you writhed under his touch. Rhett’s warm breath, breezed over your core, causing you to clench in anticipation. His lips found your clit as his fingers curled inside, ripping a needy moan from you as he hummed against your body. Unable to stay still, you rolled your hips up to meet him, begging him for more. Listening to your silent pleas, his tongue worked in steady strokes, pulling you further from reality. Hanging on by a thread, you gasped in shock at the sudden loss of his touch.

“What the fuck-”

“I want to feel you around me when you come.”

Kissing you deeply, he pressed into you in one fluid motion. Both of you let go of desperate moans at the feeling of having one another so close. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he waited for you to give him permission to continue.

“You all right?”

“I need you to move, Rhett.”

“Good girl. You feel so fuckin’ perfect... like you were made for me.”

“Holy shit” Digging your fingers into this hair and back, you trembled at the feeling of him, your nails sinking into his skin.

The pair of you were insatiable. You rolled your hips in time with him, pulling delicious moans from each other with every thrust. Reaching up, Rhett laced his finger with yours, holding your hand up by your head as he continued to move. His pace faltered as he felt himself drawing closer to his own release. Pleasure consumed the pair of you heart and soul.

“I’m close.” his voice was airy and light as he whispered his confession.

Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, you pulled him closer, “Let go, Rhett. I’ve got you.”

Weak moans left your lips as he quickened his pace, chasing his climax. Reaching between you, his fingers once again found your clit, “Come with me, Y/N.”

Snapping his hips in time with his touches, he felt you clench around him as you cried out. You climax washing over you in waves of lightning, setting every nerve in your body on fire. Feeling you go, Rhett was right behind. With one final thrust, you felt him fall over the edge, joining you with his release. Swallowing his sharp exhales and groans, you kissed him deeply as he came.

Slowing down, Rhett stayed buried inside of you as he shifted so that you were lying on top of him. His body was so spent that he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to keep from collapsing on top of you if he’d stayed how you were before. Silence fell over the two of you as your lungs returned to normal, your muscles warm and pliable as you soaked in the feeling of each other. Tugging the edge of a blanket over the top of you both, Rhett ran his finger down the length of your back. The feeling of your skin soothing away the last remnants of worry. Lost in each other’s arms, it was easy to forget every fear that threatened to tear the two of you apart. Here, like this, the future seemed limitless.

“I love you, Y/N. And we’re getting out of here, just like I promised.”

“I love you too, Rhett.”

#rhett abbott x reader #lewis pullman #rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader

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smallestapplin · 6 days

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Omg, I’m so excited! I’m legit about to explode with excitement!

How do you feel on Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail from stardew (separate) x Omega! reader. Basically the reader is just bugging out from heat and their partner is there to cuddle and comfort them. Just a whole gallon of warm fluff

Remember to pace yourself, You’re awesome and you can do this!

YES YES YES! Finally, some good fucking food I'm feral for this. Pure fluff shit my beloved.

Sebastian

- he has a lot of good nesting items for you, all of which are drowned in his scent, which is perfect for you to build up the edges around the bed and cocoon yourself in.

- He knows heats are very taxing on omegas, which is why he keeps a mini fridge in your shared bedroom stock full of different types of drinks, some cold snacks, and keeps a few nutrition bars on top of it.

- But of course that's never enough. Your body is sensitive to the point of pain, yet all you want is him nearby. His heart aches when you look at him with such teary eyes.

- Gives you his hoodie and watches you snuggle deeply into it, chuckling at how cute you are. It at least keeps you settle while he drives to ZuZu city to get your favorite take out, his sweetheart needs to eat.

You miss your mate, he's been gone for so long you fear you might be dying. Whining, you nuzzle into his hoodie trying to find a comfortable position to ease your pain.

Maybe fifteen minutes later you hear the engine of a motorcycle coming to a stop, then the sound of the front door opening and closed, and footsteps coming up the stairs, to finally the bedroom door slowly creeping open.

"Babe, you awake?"

Sebastian spoke softly, not wanting to actually wake you, he knows how hard it can be to sleep during your heat. A smile spread across his face when you barely poke your head out from your nest, eyes squinted harshly from the light coming from the hallway.

"Oh good. I got your favorite." He closes the door and sets the drinks and food on his desk, rooting through the fast food bag to hand you your meal.

It's adorable how you slowly begin to sit up, clearly starving. Once you had your food, you begin to devour, humming happily.

"This is so good! I have the best mate."

Sebastian feels his cheeks grow pink, he will never get use to you calling him that, he knows you two have been mated for a little over a year now but his heart still flutters at it.

Abigail

- Abigail is a bit of a wild card when it comes to dealing with you and your heats, but for the most part she will stay by your side. She closes all the curtains, making the room nice and dark for you, with the only light source being the tv playing an old cartoon for background noise.

- She's all curled around you, letting you snuggle into her chest and just holds you tightly.

- You are your most sensitive right now, she understands how your emotions are all over the place and you need to feel safe now more than ever. Which is why she locks the bedroom door and windows after blocking out the light, ensuring that anyone would have to get passed those and then her to get to you.

- Abigail mostly lazes next to you, shushing you and whispering how muc she loves you into your ear.

- She only ever gets up to use the bathroom or to bring you snacks and drinks.

"Shhh, shh, it's alright pumpkin, I got you."

Abigail coos softly at you, nuzzling her face on the top of your head. You're shaking, your body feels too overwhelmed, like everything is just too much, the only thing calming you down is your mate.

"That's it, sweetheart, focus on me. That's my sweet thing. I love you." She places a gentle kiss to your forehead, careful to avoid putting too much pressure.

You whimper, burying your face into her chest as you try to regulate yourself. Your heat is just taking everything out of you, even after being sated you can't stop the draining feeling, or how your body feels so hot and so cold at once.

But Abigail is there for you, and she's not going anywhere anytime soon.

She will lay there with you, no matter how many times you toss the comforter off you then beg for it back, she will mark sure you get whatever you need to feel comfortable again, until you can fall asleep.

Sam

- P A N I C.

- He is freaking out and barely has any idea what to do! He wants to help you but all he knows are the basics, no one told him this was apart of heats! He feels patheic and useless watching you writher in pain, curling into yourself as the pain grows.

- Alpha Sam to the rescue!

- Sam did several searches and asked Harvey (who nearly fainted but answered honestly) and is barging into your shared bedroom with his arms full of things. He's rambling about everything he got you, all the new nesting items he got for you (and heavily scented) the weighted blanket, the weighted plushie that he excitedly holds up.

- He doesn't stop until you groan, you love his voice but it's too m uch all at once. It shuts him up quickly, and he's fast to work, softly asking if he's allowed in your nest (as if he wasn't a few hours ago.)

- He slides in, placing items around you, before laying you on top of him, and placing the weighted blanket on top of you for extra comfort while you curl up on his chest.

"I'm sorry, firefly, I know....I know but I got you."

You don't know if he's trying to comfort you or himself, but you love it all the same. His voice now nice and low, instead of loud and frantic as it was earlier. Sam wraps his arms around you, gently rubbing your shoulders, while the weighted blanket is settled across your lower back.

Your nest is filled with a mix of his and your scent, though yours is fighting to show through after Sam scented so many items for you, knowing his scent brings a source of comfort to you.

You don't mind, you enjoy the warm feeling of being surrounded adn protected by your lover.

"You're so cute like this." His voice almost a whine, just loving how cozy and comfy you look on him!

His mate is so precious he wants to cry!

"Sammy please...." you mutter, nuzzling further into his chest.

The blonde chuckles bashfully "Sorry, sorry I didn't mean to was ya from dozing."

Can you blame him? So cute.

#sdv x reader #sdv x omega reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x omega reader #omegaverse #x omega reader #sdv x reader omegaverse #Stardew valley x reader omegaverse #sdv Sam x reader #sdv sebastain x reader #sdv abigail x reader

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

Text

🎃Trick? or Treat?🎃

Summary: Eddie’s friends don’t actually believe you’re really dating him, and they require some proof. Cause no way has the freak scored a girl like you- 3k- a dirty funky little drabble really…

Reader is related to my Eddie Series. Come take a look-

“There is no way. There’s just no way.” Dustin piped up. Dismissing it with a shake of his curly head.

“Agreed.” Mike pitched in, solidly. “I don’t buy it.”

They’re talking to each other like you aren’t even there.

“It’s gotta be a set up.” Comes Gareth’s opinion. Nodding as he points his fork at Mike. A wedge of yellow fruit speared on the end.

“A bet right?” Says Jeff. Crossing his arms and eyeing you up, like he’s waiting for the punchline.

You were currently sat at the Hellfire table, so dubbed the freaks’ spot by the jocks, in the canteen.

It was Fall. Inside there were paper streamers looped about the walls in twisting orange and black. Cardboard cut-out Jack-o-lanterns and skulls sneer from the walls.

Outside was a mucky amalgamation of Indiana Fall. Bone chilling rain and sticky brown-gold leaves, that had come off the trees days earlier. The huge windows in here misty muggy and smeared condensation with rain knifing down the glass the other side. The sky is dark grey, all bruised, and heaving with chowder thick clouds.

Droopy paper halloween decorations are tacked everywhere in this space that smells like stale pepperoni pizza. Hand made felt tip posters are tacked up on every surface for the ‘Fright Night’ party happening in the gym.

Now you were looking down the table at five very concerned faces. All of whom were waiting for you to spill the truth.

Quite frankly, they’re all looking at you like you’re Judas Iscariot at a disciples reunion.

Your eyes darted around from person to person.

They don’t believe you exist. They can’t believe it.

They cannot buy that you’re dating the curly haired scarecrow that is their metal headed Hellfire Leader. Your Eddie.

Who at this moment had dashed out in the rain to the parking lot with his black hoodie yanked over his wild hair, cause he left his lighter in his van.

And cause you’d left your chapstick in there in the glove compartment. And well, he did offer to retrieve it for you. Such a Prince.

“What part of are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask as you reach in your bag for your book, and your brown paper bag of home made lunch. Chicken salad sandwich and a bag of chips. Extra large portions. You knew who would be stealing half your lunch.

Your chunky blue sweater slides off one shoulder. Revealing a lilac bra strap and a definite indication of a grape-purple hickie nestled in the crook your neck. The mystery continues.

“It’s gotta be fake. You’re like, dating a jock or something, aren’t you?” Jeff narrows his eyes at you like you’re a suspect.

Your gaze is packed in snow. Something razor cold skimmed off the Arctic Ocean.

“I take offence at that, dweeb.” You lob your eraser at his head.

That move is eerily similar to… someone else.

You hold your hand out, palm up to him, with a thundering frown. He throws your pink eraser back.

“But you’re-“ Mike starts. Then his tongue stunts itself.

You pause. Brows shooting up your head.

“I’m what, Wheeler?” Your tone invites him to think very carefully about his next words.

“You’re a girl.” He splutters.

“Hey. Only on the outside, kid.” You wink and click your tongue at him. Grinning. Widening your eyes. You learnt that from someone else too. The Kubrick stare.

“No- you’re, like. You’re a girl, girl. Like, you’re popular and. Normal? You get good grades. You’re friends with Jonny Lopez’ girlfriend. You’re going to like, a big league college.”

“I wouldn’t say popular. And we’re not entirely like friends. She just sort of bitches at me, and I occasionally give her a ride to school.” You shrug honestly.

“And hey excuse me, I’m not normal.” You point out. “I was reliably told this was the table that celebrates being ‘not normal’ anyhow.” you curl your fingers with air quotes.

They shrink down a little with that point. “Well yeah- actually.” and a chorus of shuffles, awkward coughs, and agreeing grunts comes your way.

“Good. Cause if I wanted to be ordinary I’d go sit at that table over there.” You nudge your head across the way where Jonny and Linda are sitting.

He’s telling some stupid macho story about a keg party to his fellow guffawing gorillas. She was busy chewing gum, not listening and painting her nails slutty cherry red.

“Did he pay you to do this?” Dustin asks. “Like $20 bucks if you come sit over here and prank the nerds.”

You slowly crunch a chip on your tongue and shoot him a spiky look. “Careful, Henderson.”

“Who paid who, to what, to the nerds?” Bursts a new voice into the conversation.

Quite possibly your favourite voice ever.

Eddie thumps himself down on his throne at the end of the table. Nudges his chair right up close to yours.

He’s flicking rain drips off his hoodie, some beaded down his leather arms. Some still clung to his big dark doe lashes and his messy bangs now growing wonkily down into his eyes. You’d seen him loping into the trailer bathroom the other day with a cigarette on the go, and a pair of scissors to just whack at those bangs. Messy as fuck.

A few rolling rain drips are still skating down his forehead. Soggy black sleeves nudge your chapstick into your palm on the table. He shakes off the rain like a wet dog.

Eddie drops a kiss on your head. A soft “Mwah” before he takes his seat. His hair hanging on your nose smelling like your dreamy coconut conditioner, because he’d spent the night at yours last night.

Neither of you got much sleep, naturally. You were sore in places you didn’t know could be sore. That boy was a sexual menace.

“Dude. We were just talking about your not girlfriend here.” Gareth pointed out. Jeff was deciding to take a cowardly out and hide behind a comic book.

Eddie tilts his head at the guy. Winding his cold knuckles through yours. Right there on the table top. Skin chilled from the rain.

“Is that a challenge in that sentence I’m hearing?” He asks with a stormy edge to his expression.

Eddies gaze could be lethal if he willed it to be. Shredding metal he could cut you on. These geeks rarely wanted to be in the ireful wrath of their leader’s disapproval.

“There’s no way you’re dating! It’s a hoax!” Dustin exclaims, loud. Laying his hands on the table in emphasis. Almost rising out his seat.

Eddie flicks those dark eyes to his curly haired companion.

“Alright punk. What about this are you struggling to get through your little head?” He barks out.

“How about, I don’t know, all of it. The fact she’s sat eating here. The fact you’re supposedly dating…” Sinclair lays out.

“Stop putting adverbs and negatives before the word dating.” You scowl at them.

Eddie chuckles, sneers and slings an arm around your shoulders. Looping you right close to him. You’re munching your lunch and smiling as he brings you in closer.

“Is it cause I’m so hot and so so way out of her little arty girl indie state league? I know. Poor baby girl, she can’t help that.” He coos.

You twist your head and his smirk is right there. Would be a shame not to kiss it. You lean in and peck him on the mouth sweetly.

When you pull away the pair of you take great delight in the shock still on their faces.

Eddie nuzzles his nose into your neck to make you squirm. Then he sits there with his chin on your shoulder. Opening his mouth like a little baby bird when he wants you to feed him chips. You do and he bites and sucks on the salty ends of your fingers.

“Seriously Henderson, You couldn’t shell out the amount of money required to fake constantly wrangling this one’s humungous ego.” You pat Eddie’s cheek three times.

“Not the only humungous thing she has to wrangle.” Eddie leers. Does that curling devil tongue at you. Tries to shove his tongue in your ear. You laugh and bat him away.

“No. No. Gross.” Says Mike. Shaking his shaggy head.

“….Plus serious compensation would be required for anyone to sleep in his flea pit of a bedroom.” You tell. Eyes turned down towards your book.

Eddie reached over you with his free hand and pawed at your chip packet for more. Scooped up your sandwich and stole a bite. Extra crispy bacon. Lettuce, Chicken mayo and that spicy mustard he likes- oh he was in love.

“Hey, I tidied it up for you, pencils. I put clean sheets on the bed. Made sure you could see the floor.” He spoke through chewing. Cheeks full. Sucking a glob of mustard off his thumb.

And yet, they’re all sat there looking at you like you’re selling bullshit.

“Alright you little assholes.” You clap and dust your hands off. Some of them actually jump back. Flinching.

Eddies staring at you with literal red bursting heart eyes watching you get irate with his table full of nerds.

You’re sat here all puppy love bundled up with him. Cupid arrow pink kinda gooey love, enshrined with little hearts squished above the i’s. Surrounded by pink ribbons and fucking bluebirds. Mushy love like a damn Carpenter’s song, and you’re so fused together at the hip bones. Like it actually hurts to break apart.

They’re still not buying it.

“What will it take to convince you, that we, are a real thing?” You nudge your thumb at you and Eddie.

They eye you shrewdly. Mike is the first soldier over the top the face the clattering guns.

“What’s his favourite band?” He fires out. Twisting towards you. All elbows and angles and those Wheeler nuclear-family enviable cheekbones.

“Bandsss plural.” You correct. “Metallica, Black Sabbath, Megadeath, Iron Maiden, W.A.S.P, Judas Priest, and Van Halen...”

“Don’t you dare do it.” Eddie warns to that naughty gleam in your eye. “They’ll never look at me the same.”

The guys lean in all interested.

“… And Dolly Parton. Especially Jolene.” They descend into laughing uproar. Eddie throws chips at Sinclair who was cackling.

They were never to know you two hollered along to that at the top of your lungs, on the drive to school in the summertime. Windows open. Hair flying. Shades on. Soupy sunshine and enjoying another cloying Indiana July.

That was the month you’d met this gorgeous creature. Watching fireflies come out laying in the long cool grass at the trailer park, sharing a joint. You in a gossamer sundress the colour of blushing peonies. It was like a way too good fever dream. Hazy days and deep purple sticky summer midnights.

“Favourite food?” Comes the next.

“His favourite meal is a chilli dog, with jalapeño loaded dirty fries with everything, and I mean everything, on it, and one of those strawberry mega monster shake things you get at the diner over on Admiral. He also loves sour candy, like a ridiculous amount. Sour patch kids, nerds, jolly ranchers.”

Eddie who was eating next to you frowned through chewing your sandwich down. The whole thing was nearly gone. Your half was looking pretty tasty too.

“I also know he doesn’t really have a great sense of a varied diet. He won’t eat for hours and then he’ll scarf it down in five seconds like a seagull. Case in point-“ Wave your hand across at him. Like you were presenting him.

“Hey-“ He mumbled. Mouth stuffed with almost all your sandwich.

“All in all, Bottomless void when it comes to food. Runs almost entirely on nicotine and caffeine. Or gas station beef jerky, and out of date mini powdered doughnuts.” You finish.

“Celebrity crush?” Dustin points a finger at you.

“Eartha Kitt. In her skin tight Catwoman costume.” You smile sultrily. “Next?”

“Damn.” Jeff laughed.

“Favourite subject?”

Oh you scoff.

“DND. Obviously. He hates science and math. But he’s actually shockingly good at English. He’s a reader. Reads more comics and fantasy books, than anyone I know. If you can’t find him, guaranteed he’s in the fantasy section.”

“Wow dude, really?” Gareth asks.

Eddie actually blushed.

“It’s actually pretty cute. You know Mrs Coulter, the elderly librarian? Yeah. They exchange Xmas cards. She properly dotes on him. Adorable. Calls him Edward.” You chuckle.

“No way-“ Dustin grins. Giggling. “Edward.” He preens. Cheeks all squidgy with his smile.

Eddie flicks a gaze over at you. It’s almost edgy, but he’s smiling. He’ll remember that- for later on.

“Henderson, I will jam that fork in your eye.”

You overlap the violence and pat the back of your boyfriends hand. Nudge your lunch towards him as a consolation prize.

“He’s just terrible at being forced to read and write stuff. Nonconformer in him really rails against being told what to do.” You lay out nodding.

Cause that was kinda a given where he’s concerned.

“Oh, oh, I know. Favourite movie…” Jeff clicks his fingers at you.

“Friday 13th. The Goonies when he’s stoned out his crazy brain.” You pat Eddie’s head affectionately as you speak.

“Ok those are fairly standard. How about a random trivia round?…” Dustin decides very loudly. Slamming his fist down on the table top. Almost knocking over Mikes can of tab. Jesus Dustin. Watch it man-

You roll your eyes and think. You also shut your book cause you know you won’t be cramming for your English test with the current inquisition going on.

“What does Eddie hate… what are some of his dislikes.”

“Jocks. Uh, He uhm, hates mushrooms on his pizza. Picks the pickles out his burger. He prefers winter to summer. Cuts all the scratchy labels out his clothes cause they annoy the hell out of him. Gets hay fever pretty bad. He thinks playing or watching sports is dull as shit. He can’t stand CCR, or mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

“I’m sorry but no ice cream should taste like toothpaste. It’s sick.” Eddie whines.

“He has little scars on his back that he likes to claim are scratches from sex.” You begin.

“Yeah he’s showed those us a lot. It’s sickening.

“Okay, wait til I tell you that he actually got them from falling ass first into my moms rose bush when he was sneaking in through my bedroom window one night.”

“I brought you chicken noodle soup when you were on the very verge of death. Pencils.” Eddie defends.

You turn and catch his pouty little eyes as he leans into you.

“He thinks I don’t know that he sometimes feeds the trailer park strays. Leaves out a can of tuna and bowls of water for them. Has given most of them metal names.”

Holy shit. Eddie makes this face at you like he’s in awe of all the little things you’d grasped about him. Made his stomach feel all slippy and gooey. Yeah. This is definitely love, kid.

“Awhh.”

Eddie snaps his eyes across to his friend who dares make that noise. He picked up the fork closest to him. Shooting feral eyes.

“Oh, He’s named his van.”

“Pencils.” He warns.

“Shut up.” Mike counters. “What is it?”

“Galadriel.” You chirp all sunny.

Dustin looks so happy.

“You’re single handedly ruining my reputation here, honey.”

You lean in and smack a kiss on the end of his nose.

“You have a sex rep I don’t know about, Munson?” You raise one brow. Up in his face about it. That jumper sliding down a silky skinned shoulder he wants to nose at. Call a spade a spade. He wants to bite it. Soothe the bite with his tongue and hear you coo oh, Eddie.

“Not in front of the halflings, Baby. They’re fresh faced and innocent right out the shire.” He dotes at you.

“Hey we’ve seen some shit.” One of them defends

“Not talking about a DND campaign you little pipsqueak.” Eddie smirks.

His hand is sliding around the waistband of your hip. Scooping around your back and pulling you to him. Clutching at his leathered shoulders and your thighs guided sideways over his lap. He snatched you right out your seat.

“Children avert your gaze. Some very 18+ activities are about to happen here.” Eddie warns them as his hands smooth up your jumper. Over your hips and back. He growls when he gets his ring clad fingers clutching your ass through your jeans.

“Ok, I really didn’t need to see that.”

“Buckle up, Pencils.” He whispers into your ear and brushed his tongue over your pulse.

“I’m going for public indecency to prove a point to these assholes.”

Then he seals his lips across yours and pushes his tongue into your mouth, as with any wild Eddie kiss, you melt. You feel his jaw open.

Your spine uncurls and slopes down your body like jello. It’s a movie star kiss that demanded Dolby technicolour and surround sound. A swooning kiss off the silver screen that could curl toes, and bloom whole fields of daisies.

You grasp his hair and reel him in. Kiss him back all spitty and wet to prove a point, and you’re not shy about shoving your tongue in his mouth. He moans.

You scratch his scalp. He sucks your bottom lip like you’re a delicacy. It’s way too much. So filthy. Fucking beautiful is what it is.

Then you feel his wicked, wicked hand pinging dangerously at your bra clasp. Snapping it to your skin. He bites his lip when he pulls back and shoots you those sultry black bedroom eyes.

“This is the one I hate getting off isn’t it? The goddamned purple one.” He says all lusty as he rubs the tip of his nose into yours. Your cheeks are so hot. Blood lava hot pushing in your face.

“You’re a trooper. Munson. You’ll figure it out.” You tell him with a teasing voice that you can feel makes his dick throb under your thighs.

“Can’t wait to get in those panties, later.”

“I’ve got art class after school. Come by around eight. Moms out tonight.” You flirt. Which means takeout, and suffocating, hands wandering, kisses, til you can’t remember which way is up or down. And so much Eddie. It feels like you’ll burst with love of him.

His lips taste like sugary tab and, now, your chapstick. Ash swirls on his breath from his last smoke. He’ll be itching for another one soon. Maybe you’ll sneak away and join him. Make out for the remainder of lunch time.

“Good. I really love it when you can scream loud when I bury my face in your pus-“ You clap your hand over his mouth.

“They don’t need chapter and verse. Baby.”

Eddie responds by licking a big hot stripe up your palm.

“You know, guys, maybe they’re not faking it.”

“Please, people are trying to eat here!”

“I’m definitely gonna barf.”

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xxsycamore · 5 months

Text

One Hot Love

╰┈➤ 📸 Because we're not ready to let go of summer just yet.

Fenrir Godspeed x Main Character + Fenrir/Alice/Ray/Sirius/Luka/Seth • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Polyamory; they're all dating; but focus is on fen/alice; Beach Sex; Road Trips; modern elements; i gave them cars and car radios basically; Skinny Dipping; Water Sex; Vaginal Sex; getting caught; Outdoor Sex; Banter; Black Army polycule • wordcount: 1,780 • masterlist

a/n: That was me paying homage to the passing summer WHAT HAPPENED, WHY COUDN'T I POST THIS ANY SOONER? Anyway, One Hot Love by Makoto Matsushita was THE summer song for me this year, and at one point it aligned with my ikerev nostalgia so here we are... always wanted to write a black army polycule <3

"Man, that song is stuck in my head now. Putting the only CD we could find on repeat was no doubt better than going the whole drive without any music on, but…"

"What are you talking about, you could have listened to Seth's melodic voice instead~!" Alice gawks, a hand over her heart in a display of affection that seems to be aimed at riling Fenrir up. Though, knowing how the 10 of Spades has her head over heels for him, Fenrir won't be surprised if that's her genuine reaction to listening to the man's monologues for four hours straight. And despite that they all love Seth, Fenrir is sure that in this aspect Alice is alone.

They came here with the rest of the officers and the King to check out what was reported to be a group of disciples from the Magic Tower disrupting the peace around the coast. Ray insisted on checking it out personally and the others kind of tagged along and from there it turned into a (work) road trip.

"Uhuh. Either way, boss looked like he's seconds away from taking the gun from my holster and aiming it at the car radio."

"He wasn't even the one driving, though… Was he too sleepy or something? We did get here only after it got dark yesterday but I thought it wasn't past his bedtime…"

"Pfft, sounds like him! But no. I know what got him so worked up but I won't tell ya~"

"Feeeeen! C'mon!"

Stopping in her tracks for a second, Alice lets out a deep sigh when the Ace just keeps taking long strides across the sandy path, refusing to satiate her curiosity. Letting out a loud "Hmph!" that falls on deaf ears due to the sea breeze surrounding them, Alice dashes forward to join Fenrir's side again, and keeps the pace until he's the one walking behind her instead.

A harsh and sudden gust of wind blows by, and Alice all but feels her uniform skirt flying upwards.

"Eeek!"

"Ohh, so you're wearing the pink ones! Nice!"

Putting her hands protectively on her rear as if they aren't the only two people on this beach to begin with, and as if Fenrir didn't just see everything there is to see, Alice throws him the best mean look she can muster before slowing her step so they're side by side again.

"Sorry for teasing ya. I promise I won't cheat if you want to play guess the panty color with the others tonight."

"It's really not about that!!" The focus of Alice's bewilderment quickly shifts from his ridiculous logic to the way he stops her right there and then for a kiss, full on the lips and tasting like the minty ice cream they shared awhile ago. She finds herself savoring his sweet lips, feeling the sun's warmth engulf them fully now that they stopped in their tracks.

"Ya know, I could really go for a swim right now."

Seems like he's not the only one feeling hot now.

"Just like that? Isn't the water cold…"

"One way to find out." Fenrir grins boyishly, the same smile she once fell for, and then kept falling for every day since then. Before she can even blink, Fenrir is already pulling his hoodie over his head and walking in the direction of the shore. Following the rush of wildness, Alice is no different as she gives into the moment, stripping down to her underwear. At least she diligently folds her clothes before putting them down on top of one of the nearby rocks, even if it means Fenrir would beat her at getting to the water first.

"Woohoo! Alice, come here! The water is perfect!"

Losing no more time to join Fenrir, Alice gives up on her cautious approach and lets the waves splash against her as she runs towards them, even when they make her squeal.

"Liar! It certainly is at least a little bit cold…"

"I gotcha."

Before she can complain more, Fenrir enfolds Alice in his toned arms from behind, acting like a big blanket.

"Fen… you're not wearing any underwear…"

"Yeah? Are you?"

Alice shivers as he runs one hand down to check, but the touch is more than welcomed, to her own surprise. She turns around in his arms and places hers around his neck, looking at his deep magenta eyes.

"Remember what you promised me a few months ago? About the next time we go to the beach together?"

"That I'm gonna finally have my way with you in the water like I always fantasized about? Why are you smirking at me like that now?"

Being called out on it, Alice's grin only transforms into a series of chuckles that she tries to hide against Fenrir's broad chest, hoping that he'd get the idea already.

"Alice, mind if I check once more if ya still wearing those pink panties? Just to make sure."

"F-Fen-!"

Receiving her affirmation in the form of her arms tightening their hold around his shoulders, Fenrir's calloused fingers find their way down the curve of her ass and between her legs. They slip under the thin material, crawling inside to find her dripping sex.

"Haah-"

"Still making sure, hold on."

His touch ghosts over her folds, his other hand joining on her front to stroke her clit inside her panties.

"What were ya asking about my promise to you?"

"Do you…think us coming here today counts? Ahh-"

Rubbing on her aroused nub with no remorse as if determined to make her explode on his fingers in mere seconds, Fenrir uses the proximity to the fullest as he nibs Alice's earlobe playfully.

"Do ya want it to count, Alice?"

It's a silly question, with how far they've already gotten. When they're together, it's always hard to say who started things first. The firm erection pressing flush against Alice's belly tells her they're not leaving the water without one last unforgettable summer memory.

"Make it count. I want you so bad."

"Hah! You finally said it." Fenrir chuckles, leaving a trail of wet kisses across her nape all the way to her lips, capturing them with his.

It serves as a distraction as he picks her up, making her instinctively wrap her legs around his torso.

"Hold on tight, Alice. I'm not stopping 'till you're seeing stars."

Running her fingers through the unruly locks at the base of his neck, Alice groans as she feels him guide the tip in, letting gravity do the rest as she sinks down on his girthy length with delight.

"Gods- Why haven't we done this before-"

"That's what I was asking! Ahhh- Fuck, Alice. I want you everywhere, all the time, what are you doing to me?"

Alice's hearty laughter is interrupted by the erratic moans ripped out of her throat by Fenrir's deep thrusts, and she knows perfectly how he feels.

"You can have all of me, Fen! I want you so bad! Ahhh-"

Moving her body up and down on his length at a rapid pace, Fenrir kisses every part of Alice he can put his lips on, her sun-kissed shoulders, her arms sprinkled with small seawater drops that are salty on his tongue, her nape with the sweet strawberry scent of her shampoo mixing with the sea breeze.

Alice sinks her nails into his shoulder blades, knowing how much he loves it when she does that, and lets herself go; the orgasm rushes through her body like a lightning strike, pleasure spreading hotly from deep inside her and making her whole body glow in ecstasy. She opens her eyes while throwing her head back, and takes in the endless blue sky above.

Fenrir keeps thrusting into her, making water splash around them as he whispers how close he is, how good she feels around him - and then he brings her down on him hard one last time, keeping her flush to him before filling her with his warmth.

With the cease of movement, they can finally enjoy the kisses they can't hold back from giving each other, the rustling of the sea drowning the little moans of afterglow that escape their thirsty lips. Suddenly feeling giddy again, Fenrir holds her up a little more and makes a little spin in the water, enjoying the girly squeal she lets out. It's only when she is turned to face the shore that she notices.

"Oh my god, that's Sirius and the guys!!"

"Huh?" Fenrir looks over his shoulder and indeed, he can see the figures of one man with his arms crossed on his chest and another three standing not far behind him. "Should we wave at them?"

"Hell no! C'mon, let's go!"

***

"We already ate without you, by the way."

"What?! Noooo! I'm never going patrolling with Fenrir again!"

While Alice laments the loss of her lunch, Seth is already there to squeeze himself between her and Fenrir the very second Alice lets go of Fenrir's hand.

"But Alice!~ Your knight in shining armor is here to save you from the brute, and he even packed you leftovers! I'm not letting my Alice die from hunger like that. Oh my, your face is so hot! Why haven't you put sunscreen on?"

"There he goes again…" Fenrir frowns, resorting to joining Ray's side instead, the latter patting his shoulder sympathetically. Returning the gesture by bringing his arm around Ray's shoulders in turn, Fenrir notices the label sticking out of Rey's uniform shirt.

"Oh? What do we have here?"

Upon tucking it back for him, Fenrir sees something curious and pulls a little more on the fabric, leaving a confused Ray as the group stops in their tracks.

"Hey Boss, since when are your initials S.O.?"

Seth is the first to grin knowingly, chiming in. "And aren't your sleeves a little too long?"

Luka inspects the truth of those remarks, blinking in question. "A mishap with the laundry?"

Seth trades his dear Alice's presence for that of Luka's, just so he can lean down and whisper something in his ear, shielding it with his hand while looking directly at Ray.

"That's- Hey. You two better keep your mouths shut, or- And Fenrir, we haven't finished with you yet. We talked about this."

"What? Fucking on the clock? Like hell we're the only ones doing that. Besides,"

Fenrir arrives at Alice's side again, wrapping an arm around her waist for emphasis."…That's what summer's for. Having fun."

Alice blushes, attempting to make things better even if she's just as guilty.

"Fen, it's hardly summer anymore. But… I think you can blame our love for that.

"That's one hot love, then!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

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eddiemunsonscheckeredboxers · 1 year

Text

a one-shot blurb? of a thought i had whilst in the midst of my singledad!eddie x reader phase (1.5k words)

Summary: Reader catches a sweet moment of Eddie putting his daughter to bed, but seemingly becomes impatient to wait for their turn...

A/N: eddie and reader are mid-to-late 20's at this point, also the kid is only eddie's, reader is singledad!eddie's love interest who fell for them both, reader is female but no mention of specific features so can be gender neutral too if you want :)

warnings: minors DNI, kinda nsfw if you squint, use of 'daddy', suggested smut I guess?, domestic bliss, fluff, no mention of y/n, not proofread (sorry)

Bed Time

Balancing on the balls of your feet, you shutter at the feeling of your bare feet on the cold floor as you quietly float down the darkened hallway toward the muffled voices coming from lone bedroom at the end of the trailer. The bedroom was once adorned by heavy metal posters, junk-littered dressers, clothes thrown haphazardly around the space, and an alarming mold stain on the corner of the ceiling. Now it was filled with rainbows drawn on loose paper, barbie doll houses, and stuffed animals matted with the love of the little girl who cherished them since her arrival into his life only four years ago (the mold stain was subsequently evicted). The soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table spilled through the small opening of the door only half shut by the ever attentive father who lovingly settled his firecracker daughter into her small twin bed. Once you reached the door, you gently placed your hand on the wood of the door and sucked in a small breath, holding it there with lips bitten underneath your teeth. As you peered into the room, scanning over the dresser immediately across from you which has mismatched small, frilly socks laid out on top, waiting on the long lost promise of being paired with their mate, your eyes fell onto a scene that threatened to make your heart burst.

From your vantage point, you marveled at the sight of Eddie knelt at the side of his daughter's bed. Not having changed out of his mechanic coveralls yet, he has his right arm lovingly draped over his daughter's small body, which is tucked snuggly in her white fluffy comforter. Her wild, dark curls, a spitting image of her father's, are loosely laying around her head resting on her pink pillow case with frilly trim. Her brow is held in sorrow as she laments at the chain on her tricycle that broke earlier that day on her walk with Grampa Wayne. You watch the movement in his frame under his work clothes as Eddie soothes a hand over her forehead, guiding it back to the apex of her skull as her reassures her, his frizzy curls brushing his shoulder and back as he gently nods his head in agreement as he speaks.

"Baby, I know you're sad, but Daddy will fix it tomorrow morning. We'll have it working good as new in no time," he coos as she releases some of the tension in her face to behold him with trust and comfort etched into her big, doe eyes. A look that could he swore could break her old man's heart. You had intended to let out the breath you were holding as you heard him speak, but after hearing his promise to his baby, it came out more as a pained, pitiful sigh. Eddie turned his upper body slightly so his head could face the doorway as his eyes landed on you with a look of mild surprise to discover that he was being watched. You offered a small, shy smile and brought the cuff of his your oversized hoodie to your mouth to hide behind it. The smaller Munson flickered her eyes over to you and a toothy smile stretched across her face. The same smile reflected on her dear old dad's face as they both regarded you.

"I just wanted to say good night again, Princess," you offered quietly as your cheeks burned to a light shade of pink. You had never intended to be caught. You just wanted to capture the sweet moment between the two people who had so quickly and wholly stole your heart that day in the park some months ago. The little girl brought her small hand flat to her puckered lips and sent an exaggerated kiss into the air in your direction. You huffed a small laugh and returned it to her in double. Still smiling at the interaction, Eddie turned his attention back to his daughter and leaned into her face. "Alright, give Daddy some kisses and then its off to sleep," he said as he plants a sloppy kiss to her cheek and she squeals out a laugh while wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. Once she releases, Eddie reaches to the bedside lamp and clicks it off leaving the room lit only by a small nightlight in the corner opposite her bed. He rises and makes his way toward the door as you take a few shy steps backward into the hallway to allow him to exit the bedroom.

He pulls the door so it is almost shut, but open enough so he can hear if her small voice carries his name should she find herself in need of him during the night. The small sliver of light that peaks from the door lands on you, and Eddie slightly cocks his head to the side as he takes in your form. You're standing there watching him as he as corrects himself to face you when he lets go of the door knob. There is a shyness to your posture, as you hold the cuff of the hoodie to your lips again with your chin dipped down to meet your fist bunched underneath the fabric. You're looking up at him through your lashes with a look he can't quite place as he takes a small step toward you to get a better look in the darkness. Then he notices the shift of your thighs slightly pressing together. He quirks an eyebrow as his eyes flick back to study your face briefly again to discover the hint of desire etched in it. A slow smirk begins to appear on his lips. He takes more steps toward you and as soon as he can, he reaches his hand underneath the hem of the hoodie as slides his fingers gently across the expanse of skin right above where your sweatpants end near your hips as he closes in on you. His hands caress your sides as he snakes his arms around your waist, until they find home on the small of your back and he suddenly pulls you forward into him. Your chest collides with his as he stares down his nose at your face. In the moment, you brace your hands on his biceps and let out a whispered squeal as you adjust to the new proximity to him. You return him a smile for a few sweet seconds before he speaks.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he offered lifting his eyebrows, as the grin fell from his face and was replaced by a poorly constructed false look of innocence. You rolled your eyes as your smiled widened knowing you've been caught. You slid your hands from their place his biceps up his arms and shoulders until they met on the back of his neck bringing your faces closer so you can speak in hushed tones. You scrunched your face in confusion trying to hide the blush and countered, "I have no idea what your talking about." A devilishly handsome smile painted his face once more as he waited in silence for you to break under his stare. You sighed off your façade and pointed your chin down so you didn't have to meet the burning curiosity of his gaze. "Once I say it, I will never hear the end of it," you said as you smiled at your feet. Eddie never made you feel embarrassed about anything, but he did love to tease you a bit to get you worked up. It's not his fault you look so adorable when you're flustered. He removed a hand from your back and brought it out from under the hoodie to slot it between your bodies so he could gently grab your chin between his thumb and index finger to bring your eyes back to his. As he did, you quickly shut your eyes and screwed your face up to resemble something akin to pain as you prepared to say the words. You knew he wouldn't let it go until you did. Especially if it was something that sparked lust in you. Especially if it was for him.

Heaving your shoulders up to your ears with your eyes remaining closed, you let out yet another sigh, this time as dramatically as you could muster. You inhaled just as theatrically causing him to stifle a laugh, as you parted your lips and released, "Hearing you call yourself 'Daddy' does more for me than I want to admit." You tentatively opened one eye to take in his reaction to your admission. Eddie's smile had become more open mouthed with his tongue now sticking out slightly to the side to rest on his upper teeth as a look of amusement danced over his face. Oh, he liked this development. You groaned, defeated and slumped your head against his chest as he let out a quiet chuckle as to not alert all that slumbered in the silence of the trailer. Using his hand to maneuver your face to look up at him again, he titled his head to the side as he said in a low, thick voice, "Is it time for Daddy to get you to bed now?".

I do not consent to having my work copied or reposted anywhere. This tumblr post is the original work. Thanks for reading :) I wasn't sure how weird this concept might be, so. PLEASE reblog if you enjoyed. I do not claim to own any characters originally created by the creators of Stranger Things.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #singledad!eddie #dad!eddie #stranger things #stranger thing fic #eddie munson fan fiction #tues's fics

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buckys-little-belle · 2 years

Text

Cafe BigNSmall - Bucky Barnes (Chapter Three)

Blueberry, Cookies, Confessions, Tears, and Mean Men

Bucky x Little!Reader (She/Her pronouns used)

Warnings - Angsty beginning, fluffy end, brief and not at all detailed talks of loosing loved ones, talks of food, cookies specifically, lots of tears, I cried writing this, just so adorable it’s emotional. I did not edit this completely, I will say that.

Word Count - About 2.5k

Note - I am so so SO sorry that it has taken me over two months to get this part out. Life has been a wild and crazy ride lately but here I am with this part. Thank you to EVERYONE who has stuck by my side in this drought of inspiration and writing. I love all of you so so much and I hope you enjoy!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this fic and this blog SFW

- - - - - -

Y/n went to the cafe everyday, hoping Bucky would come back sooner than he said he would. She was there from opening to closing, her mental health declining as she put being at the cafe above anything else.

On Monday she got a pink cake pop, her only money, a $5 bill from her wallet now used. The $1.50 in change jingled in her wallet as she walked towards her usual table. The whole day her colouring book was opened to the same page, Bucky’s crayons scattered across the table as she tried to focus on the book instead of the empty feeling in her chest. His black crew neck was worn over her usual overalls, the sweater providing some sense of hope that Mr would be back.

On Tuesday she just got an apple juice, 5 cents was left, her wallet now almost empty. She knew you had to buy something if you wanted to stay, so she dreaded the next day, but she hoped that maybe if she put her remaining change in the tip jar it would earn her the privilege of staying. As she sat at the table, fiddling with the sleeves of Mr’s crew neck, her head racing in circles, a man approached her.

He was tall, his hair brown and eyes stern. “Hi there.” He said, his voice low and slightly intimidating.

“‘m hi.” Y/n responded, pushing her juice slightly to the side so she could get a full view of the man in front of her. He was tall, his hair messy and crooked, an unnerving smile was cemented on his face.

“I’m Rumlow, I know Bucky.” He said, his voice seeming to drip maliciously. “Just thought I would stop by and see the girl he’s always talking about.” He said as he sat down in the booth seat opposite to her, like Bucky always did.

“He talks about me?” Y/n smiled, confused but happy that he had mentioned her to his friends.

“Yes.” Rumlow said excitedly, before his face fell. “Always says that someone named ‘bub’ is so clingy and annoying! That she just bothers him all the time, apparently he wants to find a little, but, well she just won’t let him go.” When Rumlow finished talking a vile smile grew on his lips, his eyes waiting for Y/n to cry, longing for the hurt that he would inflict.

“He said dat?” Y/n asked, part of her shocked that Mr, her Mr, would say something like that, but then again she felt like things were too good to be true.

“Yes, but I can’t believe he said it about you!” Rumlow exclaimed.

Y/n hummed, looking out the cafe window, her eyes drifting to the spot that Bucky was standing at before he left, his face contorted on the phone as he spoke to someone on the other line. A million thoughts ran through her head, ‘maybe he looked mad because he didn't like her’, ‘maybe he was complaining about her to someone’, ‘maybe …’. The thoughts just kept coming.

“Will you see Mr anytime soon?” Y/n practically whispered as she gathered her things up, placing things into her backpack.

“I will actually see him later today, why?” Rumlow inquired.

Y/n slippe the hoodie off her body, and crumpled it up. “Can you give him dese things? Please?” Y/n pushed the sweater and the box of crayons towards Rumlow, a few tears gathering at her waterline.

Bub didn’t even see if he had nodded, let alone has verbally confirmed he would return the items to Bucky, she just walked, basically ran, out the door.

Her venture home was short, just a 10 minute walk to her apartment then up a flight of stairs, but when she reached her apartment and opened the door her head sank. The counters were still messy from making cookies, days ago, her clothes were on the floor from when she panicked and couldn’t find her green overalls. Walking towards her bedroom she also noticed how her few stuffed animals were on her floor, clearly hurt from her distant behaviour.

Instead of taking some time and cleaning up she slipped off her backpack and crawled into bed, her few tears turning into sobs.

- - - - - -

Bucky on the other hand was currently on a plane back to Avengers headquarters, his heart racing as he watched the minutes pass, worried that the cafe would close before he could see bub.

It was Tuesday, but he wanted to show her that he would keep his promise of coming back, that he would even come back early when possible.

A blue bunny sat in his lap, his hands playing with the ears as he zoned out, imagining the smile on bub’s face. This was a blue bunny just like her purple one named, beautifully, purple grape. It was the one she wanted, blueberry, she had already named him.

Bucky was shocked when he walked around downtown italy, very pretty but busy, as he waited for the team to be ready to go. The bunny sat in a window of a shop, the thing so darn cute, immediately reminding him of bub.

“You ready Buck?” Steve said, tapping Bucky on the shoulder and pointing towards the now open plane door.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” He blurted, clearly off his game.

As the team unloaded themselves and their luggage from the plane Nick Fury and a few other people walked towards them, positive affirmations leaving their lips the second they were in earshot of the superheroes.

Rumlow on the other hand had a suspicious smirk on his face as he walked towards Bucky, Steve, and Sam. “Met your girl Bucky.” He said in a sly tone. “Don’t think she likes you much.” He chuckled, his hands pulling his own backpack off his back and towards the floor. “Gave me some things that needed returning.”

Bucky watched as Rumlow pulled his black crew neck from the bag and handed it to him, Buck immediately took it, bub’s scent immediately filling his nose. Before he could even say anything Rumlow handed him the box of crayons.

“Looks like she doesn’t love ya anymore huh.” Rumlow lowly laughed, the men around him chuckling as well.

“What did you do Rumlow?” Bucky growled, immediately angry at the situation playing out in front of him.

“Just told her the truth Bucky.” He howled as he looked around at the small, supportive, crowed that had gathered around him.

“Which is?” Sam interjected, him and Steve just as angry as Bucky, knowing how much bub meant to him after the past few days of her being the only thing he would talk about.

“Oh just that people like her are hard to deal with and, well useless.” He laughed. Bucky seethed, his face red and fists now clenched. “I did you a favour big boy, don’t sweat it.”

That last line was his last straw, he stormed off the tarmac, not even turning back to grab his bags as he walked towards the main building. The blue bunny securely held in his hands as he went to make right this situation.

“Bucky!” He heard Steve and Sam both call. The two of them following in toe with their bags and his, ready to help him fix what was broken.

“What are you going to do?” Sam asked, the three of them stopped in a big tactical room that then led to a main lounge room.

“What do you think I’m going to do? I’m gonna get her back!” Bucky seethed once again, his heart racing as thoughts went through his mind. ‘She hates me’, ' I didn't do enough’, ‘What if I had …’.

“Bucky you don’t even know where she lives.” Steve reasoned. “You just know what building she lives in.”

Sam nodded, the two men looking at Bucky with such pity it made him even more frustrated. “Then look it up!” He boomed. His patience worn thin and his worry through the roof.

“Bucky, we can’t evade her privacy like that.” Sam cautioned.

“You don’t understand!” Bucky insisted, his eyes now gathering tears, a sign of true worry that spoke volumes to the men around him.

“Don’t understand what?” Steve asked cautiously.

“She’s, she’s a little okay. She regresses to cope with her hard life.” He paused, taking a deep breath and wiping at his eyes. “When we first met I thought it was a casual regression like most people, something they do in their free time.” He paused again. “But when she gave me cookies, horrible cookies, I realized she was most likely regressed more than she was in a mature mindset.” Tears began to pool in his eyes once again. “I looked her up, her parents were famous and incredible writers who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. She’s lived on her own ever since, and I just think she stays regressed to cope with what’s going on. I don’t know what she will do if she’s not only distressed but extremely confused by what Rumlow said.”

“Buck, I'm sure she’s fine.” Sam said. Steve on the other hand stood in silence, he was well versed in regression, and he knew how dangerous it could be to leave a little alone when they were so far into their emotions. He had learned the hard way and wasn’t ready to let Bucky go through what he had once gone through.

“I can’t be the reason something happened, I can’t.” Bucky sobbed as he stood up and grabbed his jeep keys off a table, his tears racing down his face as he stared at his two best friends who stood in front of him. “I have to go.”

Steve nodded. “I will look up where she lives okay, and I’ll text the address to you. Just please drive safely.”

- - - - - -

Bucky stood outside of her apartment, his hands at his side, one grasping the blue bunny he somehow still had with him.

He knocked on the door once, waiting to hear any movement on her side. When he heard nothing he decided to knock a little louder, yet once again he heard nothing. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and texted her.

Bub, I’m here, I really want to talk, I’m so sorry.

He heard the ding of her phone seemingly come from right beside the door in her apartment. He knew she wasn’t standing with the phone, he would have heard her, super soldier hearing and all.

He took a chance and tried the door knob, when it fully turned and allowed him to open the door a part of him broke, she hadn’t even taken the time to lock the door in any way.

Taking a step in he was immediately met by her green backpack, still closed, her water bottle open and leaking on the floor. He picked the bottle up, and closed the front door. “Bub?” He spoke, hoping for some sort of answer.

He heard her breathing pick up in the other room, a clear indicator that she knew he was there. “I’m just going to pick up some things out here so I can get to you okay?”

He heard her whisper an “okay” from the other room. His heart broke more at her sense of utter defeat. He placed the water bottle on the counter and picked up her bag, placing it on a hook near the front door. The bag was slightly wet but he didn’t think much of it.

He slowly made his way towards her bedroom door, pausing as his hand laid in the handle, a wave of doubt washing over him. When he finally opened the door he was met with a dark room, no lights turned on and a sense of sadness filled the room. Y/n was laid on the edge of her bed, her body curled up in a ball.

Bucky’s tears came back full force when he saw her. “Hi bub.” He whispered as he bent down beside the bed and placed his hand on her back.

She turned around to face him, her tears still falling and her eyes swollen. “‘m sorry.” She sobbed.

Bucky immediately wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in his warmth. “No no, bub I’m so sorry he said those things. I never said that, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

“Really?” Y/n mumbled, her tears still rolling down her new puffy cheeks.

“Yes, bub you mean so much to me, I don’t want any other little okay? When I walk into the cafe I want your smile to be the first one I see, I want to hear your laugh as long as I live and I want you to come to me when things are wrong. I love you.” He cried, his chin resting on the top of her head, slowly she pulled away and rested her forehead on his. The two of them still crying. “And I really want to teach you how to make good cookies.” He chuckled.

Y/n pulled away a frown plastered on her face as well as a new round of tears. “You dibn’t like my cookies?” She sobbed, her wide eyes staring right back into Buckys.

“Bub, you didn’t add any sugar, I loved them because they came from you, but I didn’t like, the way, they tasted. I’m so sorry.”

Bub smiled. “Dat’s good enough.” Bucky smiled back, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Can you lay down please?” She whispered, scooting herself back from the edge of the bed.

“Sure.” He whispered back, taking his coat off quickly as he crawled in behind her pulling her towards himself.

“Dat’s better.” She sighed. “You’re ‘eally warm.”

“That’s good, maybe next time you get cold you can close the windows.” He suggested. She shook her head as she nuzzled her head deeper into his chest. “I actually have something for you bub.”

“‘s it a pony?” She sleepily asked, very serious about her enquiries.

“No, it’s not a pony.” He chuckled, reaching towards her night table to grab the blue bunny. “Here.” He tucked it in between the two of them.

“Tanks for picking her up.” She mumbled.

“What?” Bucky laughed confused, he thought this one was a boy bunny named blueberry, but maybe she had changed her mind.

Y/n sat up quickly, looking at the floor where her purple bunny laid and then at the one in her arms. “What?” She screeched. “‘s blueberry!”

“I picked him up for you when I was away.” Bucky smiled, proud of the reaction he got that radiated pure joy.

“Can you stay forever?” Bub asked, tears once again falling down her cheeks.

Bucky reached up and swiped a few away. “I will never go anywhere.” He said, his arms once again pulling her into him. “I’m yours.”

“Otay.” She sighed. “Does dat mean you’ll buy me a pony?” She questioned.

“Not yet, maybe a cat.” He reasoned, hoping he would never have to buy her an actual pony, but making a mental note to take her to the petting zoo he saw a few days ago.

“Yes!” She squeaked as she snuggled back into him.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #little!reader #age regression #bucky age regression #bucky x little reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes

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treasure-goblin · 4 months

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Lu Elementary School AU: How do the Links wear their uniforms?

Each Link has their own unique style, so how would they wear their uniforms?

Time - Forest Green Blazer, Khaki pants, sneakers, no tie. He would opt for the shorts or a sweater instead, but he's trying to look like Wars. His school ID lanyard is black with little soccer balls on it.

Warriors - Forest Green blazer, khaki pants, tie, and brown loafers. He always has his blue scarf with him, too. His ID lanyard is plain black.

Sky - Forest Green sweater or sweater vest depending on the day, khaki shorts, and tennis shoes/trainers (whatever you wanna call them). He has a bird feather necklace he always wears. His ID lanyard is sky blue with clouds.

Twilight - School issued Forest Green zip-up hoodie, tie, khaki pants, and sneakers. He likes to wear a leather bracelet with a wolf on it that his dad gave him. His ID lanyard is dark navy blue with wolves on it.

Legend - Forest Green polo and Khaki shorts, and bunny tennis shoes/trainers. His pink zip-up hoodie also has bunnies on it and matches with Ravio's purple one. His ID lanyard is purple with pink bunnies, the opposite of Ravio's.

Four - he prefers the sweater, so he got permission to wear it instead of the polo. Khaki pants most of the time, and rainbow tie-dye sneakers. His ID lanyard is also Rainbow tie-dye.

Hyrule - Forest Green polo and Khaki shorts, with black grippy socks and/or brown loafers. His ID lanyard is green with daisys on it.

Wild- Forest Green polo and Khaki pants, school issued Forest Green zip-up hoodie just like his brother and sneakers. His ID lanyard is a navy blue with foxes on it.

Wind - Forest Green Polo, Khaki shorts, a school issues Forest Green hoodie, and pirate trainers/tennis shoes. His ID lanyard is pirate themed, and he has at least 5 of them.

Masterlist

#cal rambles #tre talks #lu elementary au #lu au #lu modern au #linked universe modern au #modern au #cal writes #goblin writes

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sparkypantaloons · 11 months

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School Gates

Jason wants to look just like his favourite hero for his first day of school. None other than... Aquaman?

“Jason, darling, are you sure—”

“I can do it.” The five year old cuts Bruce off almost immediately, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as his little fingers tangle in the school tie.

Bruce sighs, but hopes for the best. They’ve been practising tying Jason’s school tie all summer, in preparation for today.

"Go round the roundabout before you go through the tunnel!" Dick's eyes are wide, voice high as he darts forward to correct Jason. The younger boy steps away from him, scowling.

"I can do it!" Jason insists, twisting away from Dick. He screws up his face in concentration, eyes locked on his reflection.

"I told you—" Dick tries again

"I CAN DO IT." Jason says,loudly.

"No shouting." Bruce says from where he's been fumbling in his closet. He's trying to find something he can wear on the school run that isn't part tuxedo, part Batman.

"Jason." Dick says, in a carefully controlled not shout, advancing on the smaller boy.

"No, Dickie." Jason warns, trying to block Dick's approach. “I'm doing it—"

"Just let me—“ Dick grunts, reaching for the tie. “—help you—”

Jason tries to fend him off. "I don't need help." He growls, clutching the tie tight in one hand and trying to bat away Dick's attempts for control with the other.

"You're doing it wrong." Dick growls back, using his height advantage to try and back Jason into a corner.

Jason isn't having it, and yanks on Dick's tie as a distraction. It unravels from around the seven year olds neck.

Dick's eyes go wide, "You—"

And then they're wrestling, rolling around on the floor, grunting and shouting as they fight to gain control of the ties. Dick is taller, it's true, but at only five Jason has a lower centre of gravity, and tackles his brother round the legs. Dick crashes to the floor with a shout and a loud thump!

"Hey!" Bruce shouts, emerging from his closet in a pink Barbie hoodie he's pretty sure is Vicki's from years ago and a pair of board shorts. "Both of you!" He claps loudly. "Enough!"

"He started it!" Jason grunts from where he's now squashed beneath Dick, the seven year old furiously trying to keep his younger brother pinned beneath him.

"I did not!" Dick shoots back, but he climbs off of Jason.

Once they're both standing again Bruce groans. Their once meticulously ironed shirts are now all creased. Their previously combed hair, wild once more.

"Alfred doesn't iron your shirts for fun you know." Bruce mumbles, dragging a comb through Jason's curls whilst Dick re-ties his tie.

“Alfred says he shouldn’t ironing them at all.” Dick says nonchalantly, with a pointed look at Bruce. As though the older man’s inability to use an iron is a mortal offence.

"I want a pony tail." Jason declares, totally ignoring Bruce's grumbles about loyalty and priorities. His little head pulls backwards and forwards with the comb. “Like the merman.”

"Jason—" Bruce begins.

"Bruce." Jason says very seriously. "I want a seapony."

Bruce heaves a tired sigh. On the one hand, Jason calling Arthur a merman is utterly delightful, purely for how much it aggrieves their already grumpy, resident Atlantean. On the other hand, it pains Bruce beyond measure that Jason was so enamoured with the obnoxious hero, that he now wants the same top knot Arthur was sporting the one time Jason had met him. All of that, of course, totally disregarding the fact that Jason’s hair is not even remotely long enough for a top knot, and that the best Bruce can manage with his youngest’s curls is more of a palm-tree looking disaster on the top of his head.

“Why do you like Aquaman so much anyway?” Dick asks, licking his hand and smoothing his own hair into place. Gross, Bruce thinks. He thought he’d broken Dick of that habit.

“He can talk to sharks.” Jason says simply. “I bet he can beat the whole Justice League in a fight.”

“Excuse me?” Bruce splutters. “Aquaman can’t beat any of us in a fi—”

“He can SPEAK to SHARKS.” Jason says loudly, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye and the corner of his mouth curl up in a smile. “A shark could just eat a bat and go CHOMP.” He turns under Bruce’s hands, wraps himself around the man’s leg, begins pretending to eat him.

“CHOMP!” Dick adds, because he clearly thinks this a great idea, and then he’s on Bruce’s other leg too, the pair of them in terrible Australian accents, chomping and yelling that ‘bats aren’t friends, they’re food’.

“Why did I have children?” Bruce groans, though it’s only half hearted. Exhausted as he is, he’d take Batman being second best to Aquaman, as long as he’s always number one to these two little monsters.

It takes him at least another half an hour to get the boys ready for school and looking at least half way civilised. By the time they’re nearing the school gates, Jason is practically buzzing with excitement. He’s wanted to go to school, since Dick started.

“Okay, bye!” He says loudly, trying to slip out of Bruce’s hand, as soon as the gates are in sight.

“Err not so fast, chum.” Bruce says, clinging tightly as Jason starts to try and writhe out of his grip. “Don’t I get a hug good-bye?”

Jason lets out an enormous huff, but waits patiently as Bruce squats down to his level.

“Be good.” Bruce says, because Jason is good but he’s also totally bonkers. “And remember Dickie is there too if you need him—”

“I won’t.” Jason says confidently.

“Rude.” Dick pouts.

“—and listen to what your teachers tell you, and make sure you eat all your fruit and carrot sticks, and—”

“B, it’s okay.” Dick says, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “We’ll be finished really soon.” He turns to Jason knowingly, “B’s sad because he’s gonna have to spend all day without one of us for the first time ever.”

Bruce clears his throat, begins re-tying Jason’s laces. He was not expecting a seven year old to have dropped that kind of knowledge on him.

Jason’s eyes widen and he pats Bruce on the head. “You can play with my Legos if you get bored.”

Bruce laughs at that. “Thanks bud.” He ruffles Jason’s hair. “Have fun, go learn something.”

“Bye, B.” Dick says, pecking Bruce on the cheek before skipping off towards the gate.

Jason watches him go, then leans into Bruce’s ear. “Bye boodad.” He whispers, because he’d never let Dick catch him still calling Bruce that. Then he skips off too, without a backwards glance.

Bruce watches them go, heart aching bittersweet, feeling just a little bit lost.

“If you think you’re going to spend everyday the boys are at school just sulking Master Wayne, you have another thing coming.” Alfred says down the phone, as Bruce makes the walk to school for pick-up. He’s still wearing the Barbie hoodie and board shorts.

Bruce huffs. “I haven’t been sulking.” He replies moodily. “I was brooding, it’s very different.”

He can practically hear Alfred roll his eyes. “Indubitably.”

“Do you know Jason’s favourite member of the Justice League is Arthur?” Bruce says, voice edging into a moan. “Arthur.” He says again. “The only way that’d be worse were if it were Hal.”

“Or Oliver.” Alfred replies, laughing at the Bruce’s horrified silence. “Why don’t you introduce him to Diana. I’m sure she’d sway his affections.”

Bruce grumbles something about wanting to be Jason’s favourite, before promising to call back with what the boys want for dinner.

Moments later there’s a squeal from the gates and Jason and Dick are charging him. Jason practically climbing Bruce’s legs to sit on his hip.

“Hi!” He says breathless.

“Hi chum!” Bruce grins, squeezing the five year old tight, before ruffling Dick’s hair. “What’d you learn today?”

“I did a painting!” Jason says excitedly, pulling it out of his little satchel. “Look!”

It takes Bruce a moment to figure out who the painting is of. There are three strangely formed stick figures, two with black hair and one with white hair. Then a third figure with big black wings and finally what is, inescapably, a merman. Bruce’s smile suddenly becomes very fixed.

“It’s lovely.” He says, ignoring how Dick is sniggering by his side. Then he fishes his phone out of his pocket, and shoots off a quick text.

Diana, free for dinner at mine tonight? —B

Chapter One can be found here.

#batfam #spbfic #batfam fic #jason todd #batfamily #bruce wayne #batdad #dick grayson #batfic #batfamily fanfic

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nine-of-words · 9 months

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Something Borrowed (Part Four)

M Gargoyle x M Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 6344

Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup/Divorce

A bit of a longer one. This story seems to have a tendency to just keep expanding as I write- which probably isn’t a bad thing.

Saturday.

It'll be a bit busy later today, so you're in the shop a little before open, piping the back-up batches of your most popular cupcake flavors. You have a cake to finish decorating, and batters to cook off, a large catering order to assemble around ten, and then later today, back to back tastings…

You sigh. You love your job. But you can't help feel a twinge of loneliness on the days that Kirby isn't here, now. Especially when you probably won't be seeing Carlyle until Tuesday…

You're probably being a little selfish. They deserve time off, too…

That's why you’re all the more ecstatic to see Carlyle’s name come across the online queue about an hour after open.

No cutlery set this time. He has ordered cupcakes- but strangely, it's a full dozen- double the size of the usual order, and no lemon meringue in sight.

Maybe it's for a different group, you reason, and select the cupcakes for the order. You find yourself humming as you work, your gloomy attitude chased away now that you have a visitor to look forward to. You even manage to sneak upstairs and set his coffee to brew between pops of activity, despite it being a busy weekend morning.

Finally, his name is next in the pickup queue. You pull out a slice of an angel food bundt you have sliced in the case, since you didn't have time to make anything especially for him. Then you quickly pop upstairs, trying to rush back down without spilling hot coffee everywhere.

You nearly spill the coffee anyway, when you look up and are shaken by the sight in front of you.

This person looks like Carlyle, at least in general form. The features you can see are all the same, from his brows to his flat nose to his swaying spaded tail. His color palette- the rich brown of his hair, the smooth beige of his stoneskin, and rosy pinks of his horns is the same. Everything's there where it's supposed to be. Even the little divots in the stone- though you can't be sure they're in the exact same spot.

But everything else is just wrong.

He's wearing a sleeveless, cropped hoodie for one thing, the arms ripped out to expose the sculpted muscle on his sides.

…Was Carlyle always this ripped? You don't seem to remember him looking quite so built underneath his button-up the one day in the shop that he removed his jacket.

Moreover, this man looks like he's peeled himself off the floor of a nightclub or frat house and wandered into your shop. His clothes, revealing enough as there are, are crumpled and stained, compared to the usual crisp press of his suits. A single paper steamer clings to his shoulder.

Even his hair is a puff of loose, wild, textured curls jutting out from under his hood, instead of the neat, slender dreadlocks you're used to seeing on him.

You can smell the stale beer from here. Between that, the dark sunglasses he's wearing, as his general demeanor, you know a hangover when you see one.

Perhaps most shockingly, there is gold, glittery body paint slathered liberally all over the exposed parts of his body- his shoulders, his abs, and the peek of his chest from the ripped neckline, all shimmering in the fluorescent lighting of your shop.

This doesn't look like the Carlyle you've come to know at all- but somehow, also looks just like him.

Is he okay? …Are you okay?

You vaguely wonder if you've finally lost it, or if you're having some sort of episode and need to go to the hospital.

You finally manage to overcome your petrification as the customer service instincts kick in. You carefully set the mug down on the counter, to an unexpected lack of response from him- usually he'd eagerly take the mug straight from your hands, if he's present to do so.

"Ah, um… Are you here to pickup, maybe…?"

Would it be rude to ask what happened?

"Yeah, uuhhh, M-" He stumbles over his words, then his mouth pulls into a familiar wry grin. "I mean- Carlyle?"

"Sure. Looks like you paid already, so you're all squared away…" You fight the slight sensation of perverse deja vu as you say the words and slide the boxes across the counter towards him.

"Heheh- sick. Thanks, dude." He grabs the boxes and piles them balanced on one arm, his bicep flexing in what you would describe as a picturesque manner.

Sick? …Dude? Dude???

This guy sounds more like Trevor than Carlyle at this point!

Is he playing some sort of game? A weird prank?

He hasn't even said anything that's made your heart flutter once during this interaction!

"That's, um... That's all?” You look pointedly at his supposedly favorite coffee mug and the forlorn slice of cake on the counter,

“Oh yuck, nah man. I hate coffee.” He literally wretches at the mention of it. “Had a coffee flavored energy drink one time though. That was super good, hahah.”

What… is happening???

“You don't want… anything else?" You ask, anxiously fiddling with your shirt collar as you lean against the counter.

"Uhh…"

His free hand lowers the dark shades, and his eyes dart up to the chalkboard momentarily then back down at you. In his assessment, you can see the same warm, dark brown eyes you're used to peering over the dark sunglasses, though they're quite bloodshot compared to normal at the moment.

"Hahah, heeeey, I'm flattered.” He winks. “But sorry dude, you're not really my type."

With that, he pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose as he turns to leave, still holding the boxes in one arm.

You're left behind the counter, psyche moments away from shattering into pieces as the bell jingles cruelly.

Normally, something like that would destroy what remains of your fragile self-confidence. But not this time- your brain refuses to accept the conflicting information.

That's it. That can't be him.

You power through the rest of your day, powered on confusion and spite. When things finally wind down, you stand alone in your quiet shop, wondering how you should go about this.

What can you even do? You don't have his number.

…Should you tell Kirby about this?

It seems so stupid to bother them with something like this. But what if whatever is going on here is somehow related?

You finally bury your nerves and type out the message, deciding it’s better to ask and bother them, than to not mention anything.

< something weird happened today

< but I don’t know if it’s weird enough to mention

You wait for a few moments, and when you don’t get an immediate response, sigh, put your device down, and get back to closing up shop.

It only takes a few minutes for your device to start ringing. You hurriedly clean your hands and pick up the call.

"Hey! What happened???" You hear Kirby's familiar voice, raised to carry over whatever the pervasive background noise on their end is.

"Are you sure now's a good time?" You ask, giving them an out if they want one. "I'm not sure if it's anything important."

"Tell me, tell me!"

You tell them. They giggle.

"You don't have to laugh. I feel like enough of a fool already."

"Sorry, hehe!! Good news is, I don't think it's curse related!"

"What is it then, you think?" You sigh.

"Well, your dream man's a gargoyle, right? That was probably his twin!"

"Twin?" You're not an expert on gargoyle biology, but you do know some basic facts; foremost of which being that gargoyles are born in twin sets, one of each binary sex. "Wouldn't it have been a woman, then…?"

"Not necessarily," There's a loud noise that sounds suspiciously like cheering on the other end before they continue. "Could have a trans brother."

"Oh," You laugh, embarrassed to have not thought of it. You didn't have much exposure to that sort of thing back home, in your tiny farming village that didn’t even contain any other queer men- at least any that were open or vocal about it. Even after living in this new city for years, it's still not the first place your mind goes. "Right."

"Or could be an older or younger brother, from a different set." They say thoughtfully. "But if he looked just like him, I'd wager a bet that's his twin!"

“Okay.” You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing your neck.

“Listen, if you’re still unsure about it- You said he hangs around the law library in the evenings, right? Windrise City Law & Ley Archives? The one attached to the courthouse?”

“Yes…” You confirm, unsure what that has to do with this.

“Well, I happen to have the ID to get into there~ And a reason to go there, anyway, related to your case! So… if I went there on Monday evening… when your shop is closed… and you wanted to tag along…”

“You want me to come with you…? Why?”

“Yes! To snoop. Duh!” They laugh. “If he’s always there on weeknights, we could go by there and see if he’s his normal self, right?”

“Oh, that’d be grand!” You say, encouraged by the idea of confirming that the ‘Carlyle’ you encountered wasn’t really him. “But isn’t that… a bit nosy…?’

“Hah, yes, and it’s kind of my job to be nosy!! It’s called investigating, sweetie!! I’ve got you covered!”

“Thanks a lot, Kirby. I really appreciate all of your help.” You say, hoping you sound as genuine as you feel.

“Awww!! Don’t worry about it!! I’ll see you on Monday evening and we’ll get to the bottom of things!”

You say goodbye and hang up, getting back to finishing your tasks so you can enjoy your days off.

You still spend your entire Sunday worrying about your plans on Monday, and about if you’ll see the Carlyle you’ve grown so fond of there- Or ever again. You try to distract yourself with chores or watching your programs, but nothing seems to take your mind off of it.

Eventually, the time comes. You arrive at the metro station early, standing around awkwardly and staring at your voci at the agreed upon meeting point, until you finally hear the shrill voice and clattering footsteps you’ve been expecting.

“Heeeeey! There you are!!” Kirby’s bright hair and fluffy ears bounce around their head as they all but run up to you. “It’s kind of weird seeing you outside of the shop!!”

They’re dressed more casually than normal, but no less snappy; in a sleeveless turtleneck and black jeans instead of their button-up, slacks and vest. Their bolo tie, which you’ve since learned is their magical focus, is still hanging around their neck.

“Weird…?” Your heart drops into your stomach for a moment, thinking one of the only people you’ve made a meaningful connection with since crawling out of your emotional abyss might actually find your company unpalatable.

“Good weird!” They laugh, just as the train arrives. They pull you aboard with them just as soon as the doors open.

You spend nearly the entire commute to the courthouse chatting happily, to the point that you forget that you’re indeed on a very serious, very real mission.

“Alright! So, we’ll go in. I need to find a specific reference book on the first floor, but from what you’ve told me, your guy is probably on the third floor. You should go up there first.” You catch a bit of whiplash, hearing the stark difference between Kirby’s usual bubbly inflection, and whatever hardened professional is speaking through them as if they were a puppet. You had nearly forgotten that Kirby is, quite literally, a professional. “While you’re looking for him, try to look like you’re actually looking for a book, so no one questions why you’re up there. I’ll be up to provide backup as soon as I get the book I need.”

You nod along, trying to not let your intimidation shine through on your features.

“You think you can handle that?”

“Yes… I hope.”

“You’ll do great! You always dress sharp anyway, so you’ll blend in fine!” They gesture to your spotless clothing. “Worst thing that’ll happen is they’ll throw you out of the library, haha!!”

You force a thin smile. That’s not nearly as comforting as they seem to think it is.

The courthouse is a sleeping stone behemoth of a building at this hour of the evening. The archives attached to it still light up its side, various official types still making use of the facility long after office hours. As you try to keep pace going up the many stone steps- quite a task as, your companion possesses legs designed to scale stony surfaces- you can’t help but feel a bit intimidated.

After smoothly getting into the building, you manage to get through the security check with Kirby’s ID. They are chatting in their typical chipper, extroverted nature with the staff as you’re checked for mundane or magical explosives. An unimpressed Mana Bureau guard slaps a large sticker reading GUEST onto the breast of your shirt, and then you’re free to enter the cavernous gullet of the building.

“Try not to get lost, okay?” Kirby calls out with a wave, their voice trailing off as they beeline towards a wing on the left. “See you in a bit~”

You force your jellied legs to start moving, so as to not stand out like a sore thumb standing in the middle of the place, already lost. You ride the only slightly nauseating glass elevator up to the 3rd floor.

Right. Just look natural. Keep an eye out for Carlyle… but look natural. You’re definitely just looking for a book… Nothing to see here.

You make your way along what feels like countless shelves, the atmosphere in this place almost oppressive in just how silent it is. The calmness is a bit suffocating when it’s muddling together with your anxious sense that you don't belong.

Every single lawyer or law student you come across in your search seems to be looking at you with scorn as you peek down a shared aisle or glance around the corner of a shelf towards the desks they’re seated at.

You swallow dryly. You’re probably just imagining it.

Right?

After several very natural and not at all suspicious canvassing of aisles, you soon realize that they’re all starting to visually blend together. Have you looked down this one yet…?

You may be in over your head.

This place is like a bloody maze…!

I’m never going to find him in all this, even if he is here…

Finally, you stop mid-aisle in front of one of the more secluded labyrinthine shelves to calm your breathing. But just as you’ve taken some much needed deep breaths, you hear the small sounds of someone approaching; papers rustling, nice shoes against the plush carpet, fabric brushing against itself. The small sorts of sounds you could only hear in such a silent place as this.

Hastily, you select a random thick tome from the shelf, and pretend to read it, so whatever very important library patron you’re about to cross paths with doesn’t raise an eyebrow at your presence, and simply lets you be. Just until you stop feeling like you’re going to throw up from the sheer nerves…

“Hey.”

Looking up from your very detailed reading, you see a familiar gargoyle man in a familiar fine suit standing at the end of the aisle. He walks over to you without hesitation, hands in his pockets, stopping barely short of invading your personal space.

“H-Hey-” You squeak in return. The person who you’ve been yearning to see again this whole time is finally right here, within touching distance, and you suddenly can’t find the courage to speak to him.

“I’m surprised to see you here this evening.” He smiles at you. “Or any evening, really.”

“Oh, you know. I… fancied a spot of light reading. As one does.” You fumble your words, trying to look like you were indeed reading this book and not hyperventilating into it a few moments ago.

“I didn’t realize you had a vested interest in agricultural law.” He says, mercifully carrying the entire weight of this conversation himself.

“Oh! Yes. Um,” You cringe and keep speaking, feeling blood rush to your face in sheer mortification. “I love… agriculture. …And… law.”

“Is that so? All of that, and baking? Multi-faceted. I’m impressed.”

“Y-Yeah, my home village is famous for it’s, uh…” You continue to dig yourself deeper into your shameful grave, which you’re going to need since the sly little compliments are starting to make you feel like you’re going to expire any moment. You’re so embarrassed you’re blanking on your home village’s main export despite seeing the crops basically every day as a child. “…Fields…? All legally compliant, of course.”

You almost wish you could sink into the shelves behind you and melt away, but you’re just so damn happy to see him, the real him, that you don’t think you’d choose to disappear even if you could.

“You really must be interested, to be reading this dusty old tome from every angle- Literally.” Carlyle says, voice brimming with amusement. He gently takes the aged book from you, turning it rightside up and replacing it between your hands. “Talk about wanting to know the source material inside and out…”

“Hahah, hah… hah.” You laugh awkwardly and snap the book closed, then quickly return it to the wide gap it left on the shelf to hide your shame. “Hah. I, um… I’ve never been here before. I mean. I’ve been to a library before- just. Not this one.”

“Well then, you must be looking for something specific, if you’re here.” His voice is warm, the tone a welcome sound on your ears after how stressful this experience has been. “Anything I can help you with, maybe?”

“...Would it be so terrible if I said I was here looking for you?” You manage to look at him despite the crushing embarrassment, still fiddling with the spine of the book you just reshelved.

“Not at all.” The warm glow of the overhead lights glinting off his wide canines, making you wonder what they’d feel like pressed against the soft skin of your neck. His dark eyes almost glitter in mirth. “Though, it may inflate my ego.”

He leans ever so slightly closer, hovering over you at this point. This is by far the closest he’s ever physically been to you before; not a counter, or a tabletop in sight separating you. You can smell the lingering, warm base note of his cologne.

Your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

“Hah- I’m so glad you’re you,” You blurt out in joy. You find yourself laughing to break the tension, and slicking back the loose strands of your hair that have fallen down into your face. “And don’t just look like you.”

Carlyle backs off and straightens up, still smiling, but now with a cocked eyebrow. The playful, yet intense air of heady flirting dissipates into a more friendly, inquisitive one.

“Thank you. That’s… an interesting compliment.” He observes, adjusting his pink striped tie. “Not exactly the kind of compliment one gives unprompted.”

“It’s um, because… Someone who looks uncannily like you came into my shop on Saturday for a huge cupcake order. But they didn’t act like you at all.”

The gargoyle man’s expression, for lack of a less fitting description, goes completely stony, suddenly very unamused.

“What did he say?” He inquires, his affect completely flat.

“Um, I mean, he was polite enough, but he definitely wasn’t you.” You say, trying to give the stranger the benefit of the doubt, but Carlyle waits expectantly for you to say something more incriminating. “... He might’ve said that I wasn’t your- er, well, his type…”

Carlyle grimaces, and pinches his glabella between forefinger and thumb, slowly letting out a long breath. His tail whips behind him in annoyance.

Then, his countenance is back to its usual even, calm state as he speaks to you, pressing his hand to his suit jacket breast for emphasis.

“I assure you, whatever he said doesn’t speak to how I feel on the matter.”

You can’t help but break out in a stupidly wide, bashful grin.

Carlyle dips his hand into his suit and pulls out his device, and after a moment of unlocking and scrolling, hands it to you.

On the screen is a picture of Carlyle and the man that looks just like him that you encountered at the shop the other day, grinning with his arm slung over Carlyle’s shoulder, both of them grinning that same bright grin. You recognize him immediately, even without the dark sunglasses.

The base of their features is identical, but their personal styles clearly couldn’t be more different.

“Did he look like this?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” You confirm.

“My twin brother, Markus. Younger twin brother.” He says, and despite the clear irritated tone, you can also detect quite a bit of affection in his voice. “He just moved in with me. He was living with my folks, but like I mentioned last time we met, they sold the house- so he’s with me for the moment.”

“He seems fun.” You say.

“He can be. It depends on how you define fun.” He adds with a bark of a laugh; “I would say he’s not as insufferable as whatever he happened to show you, but I wouldn’t want to lie to you.”

“Hahah- You know, the more I think about it, it was silly of me to think you were the same person. The difference is very obvious… But the order did come up under your name, though.”

“Idiot lost his bank card in the move.” Carlyle sighs, his eyes rolling upwards. “He’s using one of mine while he waits for the new one to arrive- I didn’t realize he’d be buying cupcakes with it, or I might’ve thought to warn you.”

You laugh, about to hand him his device back, but seeing it in your hand reminds you of an important oversight that needs addressing.

“Carlyle, Do… Do you perhaps want my number?” You almost chicken out, but force yourself to ask with an awkward laugh. “I feel like you should have my number by now.”

“Oh, thank the Spirits. I would love that.” He lets out a puff of air, his brows furrowing. “I’ve wanted to ask for some time now, but the prospect of asking you at work… It felt like crossing a boundary. And I only see you at work.”

“Oh no, you were waiting on me?” You bring a hand to your face for comfort. Maybe you should’ve been more forward, after all. “Sorry…”

“No need to apologize.” Carlyle reassures you. “I’m very pleased you asked.”

You put your number into his device while you still have it in your hands, then hand it back to him.

“I think this is the first time we’ve met that I don’t have anything sweet for you to try.” You laugh.

“There’s always our regular time tomorrow.” Carlyle checks the screen for the time before slipping his device back into his inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. “I would love to chat for longer, but I have some tasks to finish up before it gets too late.”

“I, uh… Do you mind showing me back to the entrance…?” You ask sheepishly.

“Of course not.”

Carlyle escorts you back to the open area with the glass elevator.

“There you are!” Kirby finally appears as you arrive, holding a book that looks like it must weigh at least as much as a cinderblock. “This must be Carlyle!”

“Oh, I guess my reputation precedes me?”

“Oh yeah, buddy. I might as well know you already, myself, hahah!” They say glibly, seeming to have no regard for how embarrassing that is to just say out loud, and handing the gargoyle their card. “You can call me Kirby.”

“Ah, a Bureau cursebreaker.” Carlyle glances at you. ”That explains how you have the clearance, then.”

In what must be some sort of esoteric corporate social custom completely foreign to you, Carlyle produces his own card from the same breast pocket as his voci, and gives it to Kirby in exchange.

“Wowie! Geas speciality, huh? Don’t see that every day, but it makes sense for a lawyer!”

The completely othering experience of watching two magically gifted people talking about their powers would make you feel a tad left out, probably, if it wasn’t making you so happy to see your two new favorite people finally interacting.

“We should go before they kick me out for being loud, hehe! It wouldn’t be the first time!” Kirby laughs with a toss of their hair and motions towards the elevator.

Soon enough, you’re back on your train home.

"He's cute! I can see why you like him!!" Kirby grins at you as you settle into the glaring, rusty orange seats. "Wouldn't have pegged you as being into a guy with multiple divorces, though- that’s a bit of a surprise!"

"Divorces?" You peel the GUEST sticker from your shirt, befuddled. "How can you tell something like that from him saying a few sentences?"

"Gargoyles do the whole horn thing!” They motion to their own spiral horns for emphasis.

“...Horn thing?”

“Oof. Sorry, I forget there’s barely anything but Numen where you’re from. Yeah, they have this marriage custom where they break off their horn tips to use as betrothal jewelry." Kirby clearly cringes at the idea of theirs getting broken. "Buuuuut as you know, sometimes life happens- and when it doesn't work out, they can get ‘em magically resealed, or wear replacement jewelry. And those gold bands on his horns? He's got falsies!

"Oh." You find it a bit odd he'd mention his parents divorce before any of his own, if he had them. Ultimately, though, even if it's true, you don't think you care. After a few moments of thought, you add: "I don't mind. I might as well be divorced myself, so I can't really judge."

“Hehehe, that’s the spirit!!” Kirby giggles. "I just wanted to tell you, in case you didn't know~"

"Thanks for looking out for me." You smile genuinely, leaning back against the seat. "Dunno what I'd do without you."

Even with those words of caution, you feel lighter than you have in months the whole train ride home, then as you walk up the back stairs that go straight to your upstairs flat, and then still as you go through your nightly routine as you get ready for bed.

The normal grip of fear and dread that would settle in as a dark, heavy weight on your chest as you went through the motions alone doesn’t seem to ever arrive this particular night. It still hasn’t arrived when you get a goodnight text from Carlyle.

The fact that he even thought to do that makes you feel a deep sense of warmth bloom in your chest.

You quickly tap out a goodnight message in response- then read it back and rewrite it, then do it all once more- before you finally decide it sounds good enough to send.

You’re still giddy, heart still racing as your head hits the pink silk pillowcase.

How are you going to sleep like this?

You somehow manage to, and go on to run the shop the next day as normal.

Today, you don’t struggle with ideas for what to bake Carlyle at all, this time a stream of ideas having flooded your head while you laid in bed trying to sleep last night.

You’re going to try your hand at a mixed spiced biscotti; you reason that it won’t be too sweet nor too heavy, but still flavorful enough to be something he can enjoy. It should pair exceptionally well with coffee. Plus, with the autumn quarter fast approaching, they’ll probably sell out of the display case fairly quickly.

After the tail end of your normal midday rush, you're just starting to frost a customer's wedding cake when Devin comes in to pick up her cupcake order, absolutely beaming and radiant, a pure ray of sunshine.

“Hey! Oooh, you’re never going to guess what happened yesterday!” Her whole body seems to vibrate in excitement, making her large, dangling earrings jingle. She finally calms herself enough to hold her hand out over the counter, still trembling but still enough to show you the almost obnoxiously gemstone-encrusted band on her ring finger.

“Oh! Would you look at that…” Seeing the ring makes it obvious what happened, and a familiar twinge of sadness plucks at your chest.

“Yep! Pookie asked me to marry him!” She lets out a tiny, half-volume noise between a sigh and squeal.

“Wow, congratulations!” You say, forcing yourself to sound genuine. “I’m so happy for you!”

It’s not like you aren’t happy for her, because you are- but you wish you could be happier for her, without the emotional baggage you carry now around anything to do with weddings and engagements. It’s difficult not to fall into the usual pit of despair and dwell on the wedding you didn’t get to have when you’re constantly reminded of it through your job.

It’s gotten somewhat easier now, to do tastings and to make wedding cakes; nothing like how excruciating the first few months after your break up were. But, it’s still a struggle. At least those people are strangers. It seems it’s a bit more of a raw nerve when it’s a familiar acquaintance…

��Oh, thank you… I never really thought people were serious when they said it felt like a dream come true,” She says in her typical spacey intonation. “But it really does feel like a dream, y'know?”

“Mhmm. It’s a beautiful bunch of stones.” You place the pink paper box with her order inside on the counter, silently willing the conversation to end as soon as possible. You only have the strength to endure so much. "I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

“I think so too!! And I was wondering… oh, it’s sort of early maybe… but I was hoping since we love your cupcakes so much, we could hire you to bake our wedding cake? It would make us both so happy.”

“Oh, of course.” You nod, keeping the service smile plastered on your face through the internal desire to grimace, and pull up your schedule. “I’d be thrilled. Do you have a date set yet?”

“Yes! September 8th.”

“Ah, that soon? That’s only three months away…” You furrow your brow and chew your bottom lip in thought. “I’d need to fit you in somewhere in the next month, but my schedule for tastings is full up for the next six weeks.”

“Oh…” Devin’s expression falls, and she might as well crumple in front of you. She looks like an elvish sighthound someone left out in the rain.

Please don’t cry in my store, please don’t cry in my store-

“Hey, listen-" You say in a soothing voice, quickly flying into your typical technique for calming emotional customers in your shop. "I think I can make an exception for you and fit you in on a day I don’t normally do tastings. Since we’re neighbors.”

“Oh, Oh! That’d be perfect! That’s so kind of you.” She beams once again, clasping her hands together. “You’re such a good friend!”

Friend? I guess we are friends at this point…?

“How does Friday evening sound? Right after close.”

“Great! Oh, I’m so excited! Pookie will be so excited too!” The bangles on her wrists clink together as she finally picks up her order box. “And expect an invite, of course!”

You finish with the scheduling and pleasantries, and then Devin takes her order out the door with her, an even more brilliant, rosy shine to her as she came in with.

You heave a massive sigh, relieved your shop is left devoid of customers for the moment, and pick up your offset spatula, slathering frosting on the cake you're working on and spreading it, until some of the emotional anguish and torment starts to alleviate.

At least baking always makes you feel better. You can always rely on it to be a balm for your soul.

Luckily, you're not alone this time as that creeping, dark feeling starts to settle in.

As soon as Kirby is done with their call and dispels their silence bubble, you think you’ll need a bit of a vent session…

Later that evening, you have Carlyle’s mug of coffee and a meticulously plated pair of biscotti ready and waiting, laid out next to the order for the Ladies. This time you even got a courtesy text telling you when he got off the train and would be there in a few minutes. Everything has been going as you expect it to.

Carlyle arrives, visible walking past the storefront windows on the left side on the way to the door, as always.

What you didn't expect was for Carlyle to be holding a bouquet of pink roses in his hand.

"Ohh, got yourself a hot date later, have you?" You tease as the jingling of the bell above the door fades.

They can't be for you. …Right? There's no way, not with a curse hanging over your head. So may as well let yourself down easy with some humor.

"Not yet, but I'm hoping to have one this weekend." He smirks at you and extends the bouquet across the counter to you when he arrives there. "If you'd be willing to join me."

"Pfft-" You're so taken aback by the idea that Carlyle is actually interested in you that you end up scoffing a bit before being struck completely silent as the reality of yes those are indeed for you sets in. Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth in a steeple, and you barely manage to audibly speak through your fingers. “...Oh, you’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious,” Carlyle laughs incredulously, still holding the flowers aloft. “Why would I bring you these if I wasn’t?”

“So, you, uh… like me?” Your eyes finally dart from the flowers to Carlyle’s eyes. He looks serious, but it’s just so hard to believe.

“Yes. What’s not to like?” His lips twist into a smirk. “And I’d like to get to know you better.”

Time stops. You feel like you could die on the spot.

Is this really happening?

You were convinced that because of your curse, no one was going to show interest in you ever again. You thought that this was all just playful flirting that wouldn’t go anywhere, even if on some level you were desperately hoping it would…

“Er, do I have the wrong idea…?” Carlyle’s brows furrow in concern, and he motions between the two of you with his free hand, before it raises to pat down his dreadlocks anxiously. It might be the first true break in his even, calm exterior that you’ve ever seen. “I waited until I was beyond sure there was something going on here… But if you don’t want these, you don’t have to take them and I’ll… probably go crawl in a hole in shame and never come out again, honestly? Yeah, that sounds good-”

Oh, stupid you. Stupid.

“No! No- I mean, yes! Yes, absolutely. They’re gorgeous, of course I want them!” Your body finally obediently moves, both hands jerking up to take the slightly unwieldy bouquet from him. “I want the date too, if you’ll still have me.”

“Hahah- I’m glad. I will.” Carlyle chuckles, leaning in and lowering his hand to flatten his palm on the counter. “But Spirits, did you have to give me a cardio workout first?”

“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh pitifully in response, hiding your quickly flustering expression and heated skin in the cloud of blooms. “Let me just find something to put these in-”

“How about this Friday?”

“Friday-” You try not to drop the glass vase in your hand in your excitement and hands trembling ever so slightly. “Friday is good. I just scheduled a tasting though, so it’ll have to be a wee bit later than usual.”

“How about 5PM, then? I can send you the address for the place I have in mind for dinner.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.”

Once you’ve gotten the flowers sorted and set in a tall vase on the counter, you finally turn your attention back to the task at hand.

“I.. made biscotti.” You state and motion to them, awkward and dry mouthed, like you’ve forgotten even the most basic of social skills.

“I can see that.” Carlyle says in approval as he picks one off the plate, taking in the scent before he takes a nibble. “They smell heavenly.”

“Thank you.” You say, so flustered and smitten that it’s difficult to bring yourself to say much of anything of consequence.

“These are… inoffensive. A bit hard and dry for me to really like, but the flavor is spot on.” He immediately submerges the biscotto in coffee before he takes another bite, thinking as he chews. “I think… you’re very close. The specific ratio of spices is perfect. It almost tastes like licorice, and I love licorice.”

“Ah- Star anise.” You explain, mentally jotting down that note for later.

You could not possibly care less if your experiment this week succeeded or failed as you look at the fresh flowers sitting in place of honor on your counter, the warmth in your chest hard to ignore.

“How did you know I like pink roses? Most people would go with red, I’d think…” You wonder aloud as you gently touch the edge of one of the petals.

Carlyle shakes his head slightly and his smile widens, motioning to the entirety of your shop with the hand not holding his coffee mug

“Hahah- I took a guess.”

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #gargoyle x reader #gargoyle #male x male #mxm #mlm #male monster #male reader #series: something borrowed #oc: carlyle #oc: declan #nine of words

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