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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year

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dad!connie making his kids speak spanish (it just popped up in my head idk😭)

“pop can i get five dollars f’lunch?” the back of your eight year old son, carlos’, head was instantly tapped (lightly) with a roll of newspaper as connie stood next to you in the kitchen while you cooked. “en español, hijo, o no obtienes nada.” your son wasted no time , rolling his eyes as he rubbed the all over his head. he definitely got his attitude from you. “owww papá. ¿puedo tener 5 dólares?” you giggled as you watched your husband dig through both of his sweatpants pockets for the cash, looking at the ceiling with his tongue poking his cheek while he searched. when he finally pulled out the bill he held it to his chest, keeping it from your sons reach. “dónde están tus modales?” carlos sighed, rolling his eyes once again before saying what his father wanted to hear. “ay dios mío…por favor”. he mumbled.

“que?”

“por favor, papá, tengo que irme.”

“aight good enough” connie says before tossing his son a twenty dollar bill. “desayuna en el camino, ya que te despertaste tarde. te quiero. que tengas un buen día, chico.” you weren’t fluent in spanish, but you understood a little of what your husband said, signaling you to join in. “i love you baby stay outta trouble.” the two of you watched your son walk to the door. “love you both. see ya.” you listened to carlos’ friends call for him to hurry up so they can walk to the bus stop together before he closed the door. connie’s arms wrapped around your waist as you flipped the heart shaped pancakes in the pan. “mi amor-” before he could even finish his sentence, you put the spatula up in his face. “go wake your daughter up. she has preschool to be at in an hour and a half.”

now it was time for connie to have an attitude. “mi corazón whyyyy. i hate when she’s all fussy in the morning. let’s give her another thirty minutes, yea?” your daughter, amayah, may only be four but she slept like an old man. you believed she can sleep through a hurricane, but god forbid she’s woken up when she doesn’t want to be. she’ll be crying all around the house for hours, and that is something your husband hated to see. he never wanted his baby crying. “she needs to be up now papi we talked about this. it already take too long to do her hair since she’s so tender headed, and i can’t afford you bringing her there late.” connie knew you were right, so without another word he made his way upstairs to his daughters room.

he cracked the door open and was delighted to see her already up, bonnet on the floor as she scratched at her head while sitting upright in the bed. “g’morning daddy. is mommy making pancakes?” connie adored her. she was the spitting image of you. same nose, same eyes, same everything. she was his little princess. “good morning mi vida. yea mommy’s making your favorites.” amayah slides out of bed, little nightgown swaying at her knees as she put her bunny slippers on. by the time you finished up breakfast the two of them were sat at the table, ready to devour the food you made. if there was one thing your kids got from their father, it was their big appetites. the three of them ate any and everything in site.

connie and amayah, of course, finished their breakfast first. going back up to her room to get her dressed while you watched your show on the couch. “you want the pink or the green one princesa?” connie asked as he held the different color dresses in his hand. “i wanna wear the greeeen daddy. and i want mommy to put a white bow in my hair.” amayah grabbed for the green dress, but was met with nothing but air as she watched connie pull it out of her reach. here he goes again. “español, por favor, princesa.” your daughter didn’t mind though. she actually loved conversing in spanish since it was something her father’s side of the family did often. she smiled as she replied to her father. “p-puedo ponerme el v-vestido verde hoy, papá, por favor? y, puedes ponerme un lazo blanco en el pelo?”

connie smiled as he handed his daughter her desired choice. “buen trabajo. papá está impresionado.” amayah smiled, giving connie a small thank you before letting him help her get dressed. when the two of them finally came downstairs, you seen that not only did connie dress her, but he made sure to comb and style her hair as well. it was in a nice bun with a white bow pinned at the front of it. “myah you look beautiful baby. give momma a kiss before you go.” you watched your daughter let go of connie’s fingers before skipping her way over to you before giving you a tight hug and kissing you on the cheek. “bye mommy. see you laterrr.” she said. connie, being the big baby he is, couldn’t resist feeling a little jealous.

“papa want a kiss too mommy” he says with a fake sad voice as he made his way in front of the couch. you rolled your eyes before giving your husband a small peck on the lips. which he clearly wasn’t satisfied with since he decided it’d be okay to grab your face and start kissing you as he would when y’all would be in the bedroom. as the two of you pulled away from each other you looked towards amayah who had a disgusted look on her face. “ewwww!!”

the both of you laughed as you lightly pushed connie off of you. “see what you did. get outta here ‘for you traumatize our daughter further.” connie sucked his teeth, getting up from where he was leaning to join hands with his daughter again. “let’s go princess. daddy don’t want you to be late.” and with that he and your daughter went to the front door. you watch him mouth a, “this isn’t over”, to you with squinted eyes before leaving the house. you rolled your eyes as you turned back towards the tv to finish watching your show. “i bet it isn’t” you sighed as you made your self comfortable on your spacious couch.

#connie springer #aot #aot connie #connie #connie x black!reader #connie x y/n #connie x black reader #connie springer x black!reader

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silverstonesainz-archive · 1 year

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

MASTERLIST

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : time flies by when you don't pay attention to a clock 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.1k words 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, sexually suggestive dialogue & descriptions

5:00 AM. It’s five in the morning when Sophie wakes up to her daughter crying in her crib next to her. The sky is just shifting from pitch black to a beautiful blue, and she could see wisps of clouds littering the otherwise clear sky. Her eyes burn, begging for just five more minutes of sleep. Five more minutes and then she’ll get up. But the cries are louder, shrill and desperate for comfort. It forces Sophie out of bed. She picks up her daughter and bounces her in her arms as she tries to comfort her child.

“Are you hungry Elise?” Sophie whispers, pressing a soft kiss onto the side of her baby’s head. “C’mon, let’s go get your bottle ready.

It’s three hours later, 8:00 AM, when Sophie finally gets to sit down. Elise, or Ellie, is on her play mat, reaching for the rattles and stuffies hanging above her as Sophie tries to make herself some breakfast. She keeps a watchful eye from the couch, a bowl of cereal under her chin. She watches as Elise kicks excitedly, a smile on her face as she finally grabs hold of a giraffe hanging above her. Her little fingers grip with as much force as a baby has, until the plushie slips from her fingers and bounces above her. She laughs and Sophie smiles.

8:30, she carries Elise downstairs to the seamstress shop. Sophie’s Stitch. The little shop she took over for an old Greek woman in the midst of her pregnancy, when her swollen feet and aching back no longer allowed her to work in the restaurant in the city. She had very minimal knowledge on sewing, but just a year and half of practice Sophie would consider herself fairly talented. Though the shop doesn’t do very big projects, they do a lot of tedious work that most shops in the city don’t prioritize. Teddy, her apprentice, is already waiting by the door, busy tapping away on her phone and doesn’t even notice Sophie unlocking the door.

“C’mon Teddy,” Sophie sighs, holding the door open, “we have a long day today.”

The young girl throws her phone in her purse as she walks in. Sophie flicks on the lights, and walks over to the little playpen in the back of the shop to set Elise down on her back. She waves a rattle over her daughter, to which Elise reaches for and grabs excitedly.

“So I’m gonna run a few errands today, so it’ll be you in the shop. I just need you to finish the dress that lady brought in a few days ago for me, because she’s supposed to pick it up before closing.” Sophie explains, not bothering to look up at the young girl who is already setting up her station. Elise shakes the rattle in her hand, smiling up at her mom with a big smile on her face. “I need to shower, but I’ll be back down before Ellie’s next feeding. So just give her some puffs if she starts crying.”

Teddy nods, taking Sophie’s place above the baby girl and allowing her to walk away without rattling Ellie. Sophie can hear the gentle coos over her apprentice, the soft greetings she gives Elise as the baby shakes the rattle over and over.

Her shower is hot. The water soothes and softens every muscle in her back and arms, and she can feel herself relax. Just thirty minutes of bliss. Thirty minutes of Sophie and the scalding hot water. She doesn’t take much longer than that, not wanting to spend too much time apart from the baby downstairs. Her baby. She values her alone time, the few moments of quiet time by herself. But she’d trade the quiet in a heartbeat for her daughter. Elise was her world now, and it felt wrong to be away from her longer than she needed to be.

She walks back into the shop, hair still dripping wet but otherwise ready in every other way, with a warmed bottle in hand. As she expected, Teddy is already bouncing a very upset Elise in her arms. The young girl looks over at Sophie, wide eyed and stressed.

“She didn’t want any puffs, and I tried to give her some water but she did take the sippy.” Teddy rambles.

Sophie nods, offering her a smile. “She probably just wants some milk, don’t worry Teddy.”

She takes her daughter, pressing another kiss against her cheek. She coos soft words as she walks towards the back of the counter and begins to feed her daughter. Elise holds the warm bottle, her cries quieting as she drinks her milk. Sophie reaches over to pull down a pink dress to hand to Teddy, and begins to explain the last of the adjustments that she was unable to finish from the night before.

By the time Elise finishes her bottle and burps, it is just half past nine. How only four hours have passed when it feels like a whole day is beyond Sophie. She tries not to think about it, about the way time seems to tick by quickly. Sophie only writes a couple notes down in her book, however many inches and yards, before she tries to get some work done. Every now and again, between fabrics and threads, she’ll look over to see Elise sitting up on the mat as she pulls apart the cloth books or swings a giraffe from side to side. She’s a good baby, only fussy if she’s hungry or mom is just a little too far away.

At eleven, Sophie picks Elise up and rests her on her hip. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me. And I’ll bring down some lunch, I’m making pasta. From scratch.”

Teddy grins, “From scratch? Must be a special occasion.”

Sophie smiles, looking at her daughter who stares back at her with wide eyes. She taps the tip of Elise’s nose, to which the baby giggles. “Something like that.”

When she gets back to her apartment, Sophie puts Elise down for a nap. It doesn’t take too long, the baby already tired after being up for six hours. She nods off in Sophie’s arms, and soon she is laying the tired baby in her crib. Once she’s sure that Ellie is fast asleep, she gets to work on making fresh pasta like she promised.

It’s nearly noon when there are two taps on her front door. The knock on the door tears her attention away from her cooking. Sophie wipes her hands on her pants as she walks over to unlock and open it.

“Before you get mad at me,” Mick says as he enters the apartment, walking past Sophie and over to the dining table, “I have my key. My hands are just full.”

She rolls her eyes, not bothering to say anything as she shuts the front door and goes back to her cooking. Mick lists off the items he brought over as he unloads the grocery bags, putting things away into cupboards and drawers. He moves around like he lives there, like he owns the place.

“Can you just chop the basil up for me?” Sophie asks as she stirs the sauce simmering in the pot. “I’m about to drop the noodles.”

Mick nods, slicing the herb next to her. “So I brought some decorations, they’re in the bag on the table. And Mom’s making a cake right now too.”

“Aw, Corinna.” Sophie coos, “She’s too sweet.”

“She loves Elise, calls her her grandbaby and everything.” Mick smiles, dropping the basil into the sauce after Sophie drops the cooked noodles. “Speaking of, where’s my girl?” Mick reaches over Sophie’s shoulder with a fork to pick at the food. Sophie elbows his side, nudging him backwards.

“Stop Mick,” She chuckles, shaking her head, “Well I put her down for a nap, but it's been a little over an hour. You can check in on her, I’m almost done making lunch.”

She doesn’t have to turn around to know that there’s a huge grin on her best friend’s face as he walks off and towards the opposite end of the apartment. Sophie turns the heat off and puts the pot on top of a different burner. She was tired, it's all she’s really felt for the last two years. But then she hears that precious little laugh, the incessant babbling and all the tired washes away. She turns around in her place, watching as Mick carries her daughter into the kitchen. Curls in disarray, bug eyed and still glazed over with sleep, and her dimples deep as she laughs loudly. Mick brings Ellie over, and Sophie presses a kiss against the girl’s soft cheek.

“My little Ellie,” Sophie greets, pushing her daughter’s curls away from her forehead. “Did Uncle Mick wake you?”

“She was wide awake when I went to check on her,” Mick pinches Ellie’s cheek gently, which elicits a giggle from the little girl.

Sophie watches as Mick takes her daughter, dancing her around the living room. Ellie shrieks in pleasure. Her daughter was a spitting image of her, except for her bright blue eyes that are always wide and curious. She took her brown hair and complexion, even her nose. But those baby blues… Bright blue eyes that take her back to that night in London… or was it Rome? Sophie shakes away the memory of a pair or two that she knows, walking over to pack the cooling food into a tupperware.

“Alright Ellie, mom’s gotta go run errands, so Uncle Mick is going to take you to see Nana Cori, okay?” Sophie looks up at her daughter, who just smiles widely. She didn’t understand her mother, Sophie knew that, but the response was appreciated. With a diaper bag packed and lunch for his family made, she walks over to give her daughter one more kiss. “Be good, okay? I love you.”

Sophie smiles at her daughter’s smile, poking a dimple on her left cheek.. She watches them from on top of the stairs as Mick buckles her in, waving when she sees her daughter’s little hand waving from the backseat of the car. She stands there until the car disappears, and then she’s slumped against the wall as she catches her breath. She keeps true to her promise, bringing down a portion of the meal she cooked for Teddy before leaving for the city.

Time really flies by when you don’t pay attention to the clock. And really, when did Sophie ever have the time to read one? Between her daughter and the shop she runs under her home, there was barely any time for her to breathe. There was still so much to do and so much left to achieve, and Sophie can’t help but feel like she’s drowning. Nothing ever really goes according to plan, Sophie thinks to herself. And maybe that should’ve been a given, should’ve been common knowledge even in her naivety. But even so, she can’t help but let the anxieties of a life she never planned for get to her. She’d been living with this dread for the last two years, unsure if she’s doing enough for Elise. No matter what she does, or how she does it, she can’t help but still feel like a failure.

Sophie spends the better part of her day in the city, running in and out of shops and picking up various items before returning home and to her shop.

“Hey, has it been busy today?” Sophie asks, dropping the multitude of shopping bags onto the floor behind the counter.

“No,” Teddy replies, holding the pink fabric up and inspecting her seams, “Just one jacket that needs fixing, a tear underneath the left sleeve. But I can get to it after this. I’m almost done.”

“Nonsense,” Sophie waves her off, grabbing the navy blue blazer and taking it to her station, “I have time before I need to start decorating. I can get this done so you don’t have to worry about it.”

The two girls carry on a conversation as they work on their respective projects. The tear is an easy fix, only taking Sophie ten minutes to complete before she steams and hangs the blazer up. She only stays in the shop a while longer, sifting through her bags on the floor as she keeps Teddy company.

The door chimes as it opens, letting the two girls know another customer has arrived.

“Hi there,” Sophie greets, standing up and dusting herself off, “How can I…”

She trails off, throat running dry. There they were, those god damn blue eyes.

“Sophie?”

His accent is thick, voice filled with surprise as he stands in the threshold of the shop. His eyes are wide, curious, almost reminiscent of her daughter’s and it sends a shiver down her spine. But he still looks good, almost as good as he did nearly two years ago. The white linen shirt hangs loosely on his body, beautifully contrasting against his tan skin. His scruff has grown thicker than she remembers it, but it contours his face beautifully. He looks like was cut from the same cloth of gods, the way he stands there. But he was anything but that.

He was the worst person she’d ever met. Even if it was one weekend in Rome, she’ll never shake the feeling of anger towards him and the feeling of disgust for herself. Those texts from a woman pining for him from far away, his precious Baby, whoever she may be, still haunt her. And standing here now, years after she had walked out of that hotel room, she can’t stop those same emotions from crawling up her spine.

“What are you doing here Pierre?”

“What are you doing here?”

She shakes her head, “I asked you first.”

Pierre chuckles, fingers coming up to his chin to rub his beard. He had to laugh, because otherwise he’d stand there looking stupid. He’d never understand why she was mad. He should be mad, pissed even. He didn’t walk out without a word, didn’t disappear into the night like he normally would. No, he stayed. He stayed in bed with her, held her, fucking spent a whole day with her only for Sophie to disappear without a single word. No note, no kiss, not a single warning. And yet here she stands, face contorting into what he assumes to be anger, like he fucked up.

“Here for some meetings, might be some potential business for me here in Kamari.”

“Not what I meant,” Sophie spits, “I mean here. In my shop.”

Pierre looks around confused, “This is yours?”

“Sophie,” Teddy squeaks from her seat. Both adults turn to the girl, who lowers in her chair, “It’s his jacket.” She points to the navy blazer behind Sophie.

Sophie picks it up and roughly sets it on the counter. Pierre begins to walk further into the shop, only stopping when he notices the girl take a step back. She looks pale, a sheen of sweat coating her skin. She looked like she was going to be sick. But even then, he acknowledges the softness of her tired features, how round her eyes are as they dart around the room and effectively avoids his gaze. He likes the way her hair is tied out of her face, only a few strands falling around her face. She looks beautiful, like an angel.

“I’m not gonna hurt you Sophie,” Pierre chuckles, trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Just take the jacket and get out Pierre.”

“How much?”

“I don’t want your fucking money. Just take the fucking jacket and leave.”

Pierre scoffs, “What the fuck is your problem Sophie?”

Sophie doesn’t answer his question, instead grabbing the bag of decorations and handing them to Teddy. She gives her quiet instructions to leave the shop and go up to her apartment, tasking her with decorating it. Teddy nods, practically running out of the shop before the two could talk any more.

“What the fuck is my problem?” Sophie finally responds as the door shuts, “You’re my fucking problem Pierre. You being here right now is my fucking problem.”

“How? I haven’t seen you in nearly two years. I’m just here to pick up my jacket Soph. I breathe in your general direction and you freak out. What the fuck is that about?”

Sophie picks up the jacket, walking around the counter and pushing it into his chest. “I sewed up the tear, there is no other damage to your jacket. It’s on the house, so please, leave.”

Pierre’s hand grips the fabric tightly, yanking it from her grasp and slamming it back on the counter. Sophie jumps at the loud sound, taking a step away from the man. She can hear him panting, trying to steady his breathing as he rests his weight on his hands. His shoulder rises up and down, head hangs low, as he tries to calm himself down.

“You don’t get to treat me like this.” Pierre finally mumbles, “You don’t get to treat me like I did something wrong to you. You walked out on me, Soph. I woke up the next morning alone, after what I thought was a pretty great night, albeit a great fucking weekend. You left and now you’re mad?”

She can feel the tears brimming on her waterline, the large drops falling onto her cheeks. She takes a few steps forward, putting more space between her and Pierre in hopes that breathing becomes easier. It doesn’t work, her chest still feels as tight as ever.

“I just want to know what happened. Why’d you leave? What happened?”

Sophie could feel her heart ache in her chest, mind returning back to that night in Rome. She can see the affectionate nickname mocking her, reminding her that she was just another notch on his belt. A reminder for Pierre that he simply can. She remembers how stupid she felt, how for the briefest of moments before seeing his phone, that she felt that for a moment Pierre might be someone worth sticking around for. Tears continue to fall on her face, and she has to turn away from the Frenchman who looks at her, waiting for her answer.

“Please just leave,” She finally responds, her voice weak and shaky.

He doesn’t want to. Pierre wants to scream more, to fight and beg and pull an answer from her. He wants to pick at her brain, figure out at what point between meeting and a kiss goodnight did it all go wrong? It’s been nagging him for years, and now he wants his answer.

But he sees the tears on her face, hears her sniffles, watches how her shoulders shake as she tries to hide her frailty. He sees just how broken she is in his presence, and he refuses to cause her anymore pain. He’d have to get his answers another time.

Pierre pulls a hundred euros out of his wallet, putting it on the counter in place of his jacket, and walks out without another word. The moment the doors shut, Sophie crumples to the ground. She’s gasping for hair, tears still falling only faster this time around. She’s stricken with emotion over seeing Pierre for the first time, and her daughter comes to mind. She thinks of her sweet Elise, and suddenly she’s crying more.

“Soph? What’s wrong?”

Mick is quick to her rescue, helping her up onto her feet and holding her close against his body. His hand runs over the back, rubbing gently as he shushes her cries. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask for an explanation. He simply holds her until she’s no longer crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly. Sophie shakes her head against his chest. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready then.”

Mick cups her cheeks, forcing Sophie to look up at him. His thumbs swipe against her wet cheek, wiping away any evidence of sadness. He smiles down at her, but his eyes still read with worry. Mick sees how torn she looks, the tension in her golden eyes. It’s obvious that something is bothering her, he can read her like a book. If only he could pick her brain. He feels helpless in this situation and wishes that there was more that he could do for her. But Sophie was more stubborn than he can be, and he knew that in due time she would tell him. He just had to be patient, a skill he was still working on.

“I’m fine. I am. I just had a moment.”

Mick nods, “That’s okay, we all have our moments. Now c’mon, we have a party to put together.”

Sophie closes up the shop, following Mick back up to her apartment. Teddy already did most of the leg work, pink streamers and balloons scattered all around. Elise was napping in the other room, and Corinna was just frosting the cake with pink frosting and pearlescent sprinkles. The four adults do their best to go about it quietly, putting balloons up and turning the expanse of Sophie’s living room into a pink wonderland. It’s nearly five in the afternoon when everything is basically put together and when Sophie is able to look in on her daughter.

Ellie is fast asleep in her crib, breathing steadily. Sophie can’t help but feel overwhelmed again as she stares down at a piece of her. A whole year has passed since she’s met her baby girl. In all the journals and dreams she had about the “perfect life,” never did she imagine that a beautiful baby girl would join her so soon. But that was the thing about life, it never goes as planned. It’s never really quite that simple.

She got that dream studio apartment, in the city of her dreams, filled with art and plants, but with one addition. Just another piece of her.

It isn’t long until Elise begins to stir, eyelids slipping open to reveal her bright blue eyes. “Hi there birthday girl. Let’s get you ready.”

She slips the girl into a white dress and a headband with flowers perched on the left side of her head. Elise is patient, allowing her mother to dress her in the frills and pomps. And when all is said and done, after Sophie has taken a multitude of photos to last a lifetime, she picks up her daughter and kisses her cheek. Sophie holds her child, tears blurring her vision, and she feels her world come together. In her arms she holds her purpose. She holds her flesh and blood, she holds the only person she could ever imagine loving for the rest of her life.

When she walks in, Corinna, Mick, and Teddy are grinning ear to ear. They greet the little girl, pressing kisses on her face and cooing at her. Corinna takes the baby from her, and Sophie takes a step back to watch the scene before her unfold. She takes a good look at the people in the room, three people who have been a part of her and Elise’s life since she was growing in her belly.

“What are you thinking about mama bear?” Mick asks, bumping shoulders with her.

Sophie manages to muster up a smile, even with her mind swirling over a million things. “I just can’t believe she’s one. I feel like it was yesterday that I was holding her for the first time.”

Mick nods, slinging his arm over her shoulder. “I can’t believe it either Soph, I can’t believe it either.”

“Hey you two, let’s sing happy birthday.” Corinna waves the two over and they crowd around the pink cake Mick’s mother had made for the occasion.

Sophie takes her daughter from Corinna, holding her close as Mick lights the candles. The singing is soft, the moment intimate. Just three other people here to celebrate a milestone in her daughter’s life. The only three they needed.

“...Happy birthday dear Ellie, happy birthday to you.”

Sophie leans forward, blowing out the candles for her baby. The three people clap around them, Mick leaning in to press a kiss to the back of Ellie’s head. He takes the baby from her as she and Teddy begin to serve food and cake. And in that moment, she looks up and watches as Mick makes faces at Ellie, who giggles with glee. She watches the way her little hands grab the man’s face, the way her nose scrunches excitedly. Then like clockwork, the guilt she had been feeling for years begins to brew in her stomach. She thinks of how long Uncle Mick will be enough for her, if he ever will be enough at all.

She’s afraid of the questions her daughter might ask the older she gets. Afraid of the day her daughter will look up at her with wide eyes and ask where her daddy is, just as Sophie has done before. She clearly remembers her mother’s answer, the bitterness in her voice as she describes her father to be one of the worst people to walk the planet. Sophie remembers the resentment she felt for the father she never met, and the need of male validation that she grew up with. It makes her feel sick, and it’s the last thing she wants her daughter to feel.

But what would she say? Will she describe her father to be the gentleman who bought her drinks at a bar? Or is it the artist she met in Florence? Perhaps it’s the man who she met at a wedding but effectively walked away from? There was no clear answer, not even on her daughter’s face could she tell who her dad was.

The small party only lasts for a couple more hours before Teddy bids goodbye and Corinna has to leave to tend to her own home. Mick hangs back, cleaning up around the apartment while Sophie gets Ellie ready for bed. 8:00 PM and Elise is covered in soap and suds as Sophie washes the food and dirt she’s managed to get on herself throughout the day. She watches her daughter splash around, playing with bath toys. They stay like that for a little while longer, Sophie wanting to savor every single moment of this. To enjoy the moments where who her father may or may not be doesn’t matter.

8:30, and Sophie is giving Ellie half a bottle, bouncing her to sleep. Mick sits on the couch, watching as Sophie paces around the room with a little bounce in her step. He admires the way she looks at her daughter, noticing the soft expression on them and how they sparkle as she looks at Ellie. It isn’t long until the baby is fast asleep and Sophie gently laying her down in her crib.

“Teddy said a man came by and that you were really upset about it,” Mick finally says as they walk into the kitchen.

Sophie sighs, “Yeah…”

“Who was it?”

She shakes her head, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it though? It has to matter enough that you were on the floor crying. Who was he, Soph?”

She leans against her kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge as she tries to steady her breathing. She tries not to let the memory of the earlier encounter shake her, but the image of Pierre standing before her, the sound of his voice, is enough to have tears glossing over her eyes.

“It was Elise’s father.” She mumbles. “Or… god, her potential father. I don’t know.”

Mick raises his brow, “I thought you didn’t know who it was?”

“I don’t. I don’t know if Pierre is her father Mick. I look at her, and I still honestly couldn’t tell you which one it is.” Sophie spins around and rubs her eyes with her hands. “It might be him… I don’t know, they have the same eyes.”

“Pierre… so the asshole from Rome?”

Sophie nods, “Yeah.”

Mick bites his bottom lip, nodding as he tries to think of a way to console her. But nothing comes to mind. This situation is way out of his purview, and he didn’t think he had a place to say anything about her situation. But he looks over at his best friend, the clear distress in her features.

“It felt weird, seeing him after all this time,” Sophie confesses, “And I felt so angry, but then I thought of Ellie and… fuck Mick. I don’t want to deprive Ellie of her father, I don’t want to feel so much anger towards the man who could be her dad. I don’t want to turn out like my mom.”

“Hey,” Mick interjects, “You aren’t turning out like your mom. From the little you’ve told me about her, and from what I’ve seen in the nearly two years of friendship, I can tell you that you are more than she ever was for you. Sophie, I see how much you love Elise. God, everyone can see how much you love that little girl.”

“Thanks Mick,” Sophie mumbles as he joins him at the kitchen table.

“And what does it matter who her father is? She has Uncle Mick anyways.” Mick winks.

“That she does.” Sophie smiles, tapping her fingers on the old wood. “I don’t know, I think I’m just shaken from seeing him. It wasn’t what I was expecting, especially on Ellie’s birthday. What are the chances he goes to a seamstress out of the city, and mine specifically you know?”

The man nods, rubbing his chin. “Just a sick coincidence I think.”

“Probably.”

She hopes it’s a sick coincidence, that maybe the universe was playing games with her. And maybe Mick is right. Who cares who Ellie’s father is? She raised her all by herself for a whole year, hell carried her in her belly for nine months without help from any of her potential fathers. And while maybe they didn’t have much of a say in the matter, it doesn’t change the fact. It had always been her and Elise, and Mick and his mother and Teddy. Not a dad in sight, not for her and not for Ellie. And yet everything was alright. The world spins round, time continues to tick on by.

Pierre suddenly appearing again after a year and some months after Rome was a sick twist of fate, a pebble in her track. He didn’t matter, and he won’t matter after today. Not to her and not to her daughter.

At least she hopes so.

NOTE: here's chapter 1! if you haven't caught on, this is based off mamma mia, and the titles is What You Mean to Me (as said in the photo)! mamma mia my comfort movie and i thought it'd be really fun to do my spin on it with some f1 drivers. i hope you enjoy this chapter, and i really can't wait to release more.

once again, my shout out to the lomls @bigdiccricc & @vamossainz55 for talking me off a cliff and listening to me ramble.

TAGLIST HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED if you want to be notified for updates, follow @carlosjpg and turn on notifications.

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reddragon-cowboy · 11 months

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LITTLE MUSE FACTS.

Instructions: Fill out the questions about your muse, repost, tag as many people as you want.

1) What does your muse smell like?:

The concoction of oils she applies to her skin produces a pleasant scent should anyone close the distance. Niah's fonder of oils than perfume. There's watermelon, strawberry, peach, and cucumber oil scents, just to name a few. There also may be a whiff of mango or shea butter as well.

2) How often does your muse bathe/shower?:

Baths are more preferred rather than showers. She may bathe once or twice a week (depending on her stress levels to melt tension away); she'll sprinkle oils into the water and listen to music while relaxing. Showers may be taken three times in a week. Niah exercises on the regular so she tries to stay fresh and clean.

3) Does your muse have any tattoos or piercings?:

Just the ordinary piercings in her ears.

4) Any body movement quirks?(EX: tapping heel, shaking knee)”

She may shake her leg up and down while seated in a chair. Lip biting is a common habit difficult to break, usually when she's feeling nervous or anxious. She also licks her lips a lot.

5) What do they sleep in?:

She typically sleeps in her panties without a bra. Or she'll sleep in the nude. If the weather is cold she'll don on a huge t-shirt.

6) What’s their favorite piece of clothing?:

She loves high waist pants and corsets/bustiers.

7) What do they do when they wake up?:

Not much of a morning person, but she does appreciate the view of the sunrise peeking over the horizon and may lay in bed for thirty minutes watching morning light unfold through the window in her bedroom. All the while, reflecting over the dream she had the night before. She'll eventually wander out of bed to wash up. Go outside to her yard to check on her garden a little bit. Then rush back inside to prepare breakfast.

8) How do they sleep? Position?:

The fetal position, wrapping herself in her thick blanket and cuddling into it, as if imagining she's holding someone close.

9) What do their hands feel like?:

They're quite soft and smooth. The amount of lotion and natural butters rubbed into her skin everyday keeps them hydrated and supple. Baby soft.

Tagged by: Stole it ;3

Tagging: anyone who wanna do it

#dash games #rain drops <> niah hc's

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dinhlnce · 4 months

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five times kissed

one. she's twenty seven years old, and they are not-not together. or at least, that's the answer that she gives when people ask about it. but she’s been waking up next to, on top of, underneath, behind tommy every night for several weeks now. today, it is eight twenty-four in the morning, and she wakes up in his bed ( he refuses to sleep in hers if he can help it. ) wearing one of his shirts, with his head cutting off the blood supply to her left arm. dinah groans. tommy shifts, his grip on the comforter shifting in response to her movement. and soon they’ll ( she'll ) be past the point of pretending that they’re not together, but for now, she’s concerned with getting him to move so that she can have her arm back. " hey, t — " dinah mutters hoarsely, head turning until she can awkwardly press her lips into the corner of his forehead. " tommy. baby, you’re squishing my arm. "

two. they're twenty three years old when he gets into a fight at one of his house parties — laurel breaks it up because... it's her, and even though she's a little out of practice, taking down a couple of drunk frat boys barely breaks a sweat, but doesn't get the reason behind it later, until she's smearing neosporin over his busted knuckles and wrapping them with the tape and gauze she'd dug out of the back of a medicine cabinet. apparently thea'd snuck in, and managed to get molly off of some dickhead business major. laurel purses her lips, makes a mental note to talk to her later, but there's not much she can do about that now. " you know — if i'm gonna play bouncer at your parties, i think you oughta pay me for it, " she teases, quietly. tommy makes some joke about her not taking the money, which... that's true. and then he says she could enjoy the party like everyone else, and laurel chews on the inside of her cheek — she tells him she's not sure how to do that right now, and tommy gets it, decides not to push the matter. he dutifully changes the subject, tells her that he likes her shoes, asks if she'll change the oil on his car in exchange for breakfast later, ponders on the sorority girls that may or may not have been hitting on him. it makes laurel smile in the kind of way that she hasn't smiled in a while. she finishes her work in short order, gently smooths the tips of her thumbs over the back of his hand, and the feeling in her chest is warm, and safe. the way it always has been with tommy. so they just kind of sit on the floor in his bathroom and smile stupidly at each other for a minute, and someone — laurel's not sure who, but someone leans in. the kiss is soft, and tommy's non-bandaged hand lands at the back of her neck, and laurel's fingers wind up cupping his face, and — for a second, it's everything. it's everything in the kind of way that scares the shit out of her. when she realizes that, she remembers that oliver's dead at the bottom of the ocean, and so is sara, and her dad's at the bottom of a bottle, and his wife's run away to central city, and — he's all she's got right now. " i can't — tommy — " laurel's the one who pulls back, swallows and has to work around her words like she's been drinking. " it's — i can't do this now. not in a i don't want this way, but... you're the only constant in my life, and — if we happened and something went wrong right now, it would break me. " she leans her head against the wall, watches his face, wants to cry about it. " maybe it's shitty of me, but i need this to stay the same. for now. if that's... okay with you. "

three. they are thirty four years old, and dinah pukes once in the lair, twice while out on patrol. roy keeps side-eyeing her, even after she waves it off as bad rice and beans. it would track for who she is as a person, but they both know she's full of shit right now. roy doesn't say anything, though, because he's got her back through everything, regardless of how stupid he thinks it is. he always has. he takes most of the legwork in taking down a drug den, and she lets him without argument. she just tells him not to tell oliver or felicity, for now, and he nods dutifully, looks almost offended that it even needs to be said. dinah stops by the pharmacy on the way home, downs a liter of dr. pepper, and pees on four sticks in the bathroom there. she makes plans on the way home to wake tommy up, but they get thwarted the second her head hits the pillow — she's out cold after a shower and a snickers bar, tucked up under the arm tommy tosses over her. she does tell him in the morning — he's up first, as per usual, just getting out of the shower when she wakes up. dinah rolls onto her side, and at the same time he tells her good morning, she opens her mouth and says, " i'm pregnant, " in a hoarse voice that's still not entirely awake. tommy starts a bit, frozen in the bathroom doorway, and dinah waits for a moment before sitting up, hands pushed into her lap. " my period's like two weeks late, and i took four tests in a walgreen's last night — " he's across the room and kissing her before she finishes her thought. they're both grinning, elated and terrified — because this is new, and scary, and sure they were just letting the pieces fall as they may, but a baby in theory is different from an actual baby —and then laughing when dinah gets enough leverage with an arm hooked over tommy's shoulder to drag him back into bed so she can kiss him more there.

four. it is nine o’clock in the morning, and she’s been under the 1976 corvette since seven. it’s technically his — he says he bought it for himself, but she's listed as the primary driver on the insurance. she does the upkeep — which, to his credit, she's been doing maintenance on his cars since they were kids — and vintage cars were never really his thing anyways. so he says that it's his, but he also knows how to give her things in a way that she'll actually use them. tommy grabs her for breakfast minutes later. she knows it’s breakfast, because breakfast time is around nine, no matter where you are in the world, and she knows it’s tommy by the way he stands next to the car. it’s breakfast time, he tells her. breakfast is at nine.

dinah waits a moment, nods, and then rolls herself out from under the car. the morning sun hits his left cheek through the window, and tommy looks like an angel from this angle. she does not tell him this. his ego will get even bigger. instead, she sticks out one dirty, grease-covered hand, and wordlessly, he takes it, and pulls her to her feet. and then he turns her hand over, kisses the backs of her knuckles, and tells her she’s filthy. they stand in the garage, grinning like idiots.

five. liv is born at nine thirty seven pm on a friday evening, and the planning had been nothing short of chaotic. per ted's account, dinah senior had given birth in the kitchen, surrounded by two vigilante friends she'd made over the years. and tommy, oliver, thea — all of them had been born in fancy hospitals surrounded by the best kind of medical care money could buy. she leans towards the former early on, but eventually settles on a center with the promise that tommy never lets her see the bill. and then there's the discussion on pain management, which scares the shit out of her for obvious reasons. she changes her plan a frightening number of times over the course of a handful of months.

the only easy questions are who she wants in the room — ted stays for a while, and then ultimately waits in the waiting room, a move which dinah is later grateful for, and then tommy, and that's it. and names — oliver starts as a joke, but they've been unironically calling the baby liv for four months now, so it's sort of stuck. but for as chaotic as the planning had felt, in true dinah fashion, dinah feels almost eerily level-headed throughout the event. she walks around until she can't, sleeps when she can, watches fresh prince reruns when she can't.

and tommy is a rock— he feeds her soup and a banana, plays card games with her, reminds her dutifully of the breathing exercises from the classes that she'd thought were useless and overpriced but actually come in handy, laughs when she asks jokingly if he wants her right now as a means of trying to lighten up the situation. takes her socks off when her feet get hot, puts them back on when her feet get too cold.

she feels, more than sees, the entire trajectory of his soul shift when liv comes out, red-faced and screaming bloody murder. dad wasn't really a role she'd ever seen him having when they were younger, but christ does it fit him now. dinah doesn't really register the first kiss — dropped to her sweaty forehead alongside a muttered good job. she's crying too hard, overwhelmed and overstimulated. the second one, where she's gotten turned over so that liv can be dropped on her chest, she does notice, tips her head over to reciprocate exhaustedly and push her forehead into his cheek. and then stupidly, she lifts the arm that's not holding liv, and they knock their knuckles together gently.

#myrlns #heY I'M WEEPING--

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wakeup-awg · 5 months

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Thanksgiving Night | Nov. 23rd

[Sophie | Alex]

Over the years Thanksgiving was something that the blonde had gotten used to celebrating. From her relationship with her ex to now her current partner, Alex, it was part of their normal holiday celebrations. While her heart would always be a Brit, and he knew it, she could enjoy the holiday. They were having a big gathering of family, friends, and Alex's crew as well as their significant others to the house which meant prep for Thanksgiving had started days ago for Sophie. Making sure she had enough food, and she decorated the house with a nice little nice fall festive look which she had to admit, all of it was exhausting while chasing three toddlers ranging in age from three down. Alex was of course helping but he was more in charge of the turkeys than anything. not that he wasn't going to help with other things. People were bringing various dishes to also help but Sophie was really putting a lot of effort into making sure a lot was done by her so that it was her first big family style celebrating together at the farmhouse with all the kids, family, and friends in tow. Which meant she crawled out of bed on Thanksgiving morning at 4am, incredibly exhausted but crept downstairs nonetheless putting on the coffee and started continuing prep for the food.

Before he met Sophie, Alex often fell into a bit of a hole after touring. The transition from being all 'go go go' to not doing much was hard on him but things were so different now. It never got boring and days on the farm kept Alex on his feet. They had three toddlers running around the house, a bunch of animals to keep them busy and a new puppy that still needed to learn a lot of things. And with Thanksgiving coming up, there was even more to do in preparation. They'd thrown Thanksgiving dinners before, but never this big. Their families were there, the boys, a few of the crew, Dan, Nano, Ricky and Phil didn't want to miss out either. It was gonna be a big dinner, something Alex loved but also knew took a lot of time to put together. On Thursday morning, he wanted to sleep in as long as he could but was stirred awake early by one of the dogs jumping up into bed with him and waking him with kisses. He thought they'd closed the door when going to bed, so for a moment he was confused until he realized Sophie wasn't in bed with him and a glance at the clock told him it was just around 4.30 am. Alex groaned softly, rubbed his face and then climbed out of bed to follow the soft sound of pots and pans and the smell of freshly made coffee. "It's too early to be awake," he murmured as he walked up behind Sophie and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Getting up so early wasn't unheard of for Sophie, not even because of the kids, because of her job there were often calls so early in the morning you had to be hair and makeup before the sun was even up. This was still a little different as she moved around pots and pans, things banging but not loudly enough to wake the babies. Willa wide awake this early in the morning with full energy was not something Sophie could handle with also cooking and taking things in and out of the oven and pans. She was trying to let Alex sleep she knew that he would help and do whatever he could if she asked but she also knew that chances were it'd be easier to let him get some more sleep. What she wasn't expecting was about thirty minutes later why she was stirring something into a batter that she felt arms wrap around her waist. "It might be, but we have so much to cook, some people will be here for breakfast, then a huge dinner." she said. "Means being up really early." she said as she reached a little to stir another pot.

Alex was aware that even though people were bringing food over, the majority of it Sophie wanted to be in charge off. It was like she was determined to be a wonderful host even though nobody expected her to spend these many hours on all of it. "Nobody's gonna expect breakfast at 5am," Alex mumbled quietly, too sleepy to be fully awake yet and he closed his eyes to rest them for a moment. "There's plenty of time to get food done. "Come back to bed," he hummed softly.

"No, but I'm making a french toast casserole thing I saw online. Americans love casseroles and that means making the batter, making sure the bread sits out and gets a little stale from the air. "Alex we are hosting how many people? Between friends, family, their partners... over twenty people." she murmured when he said come back to bed with her. "I can only go back to bed for maximum an hour."

"But you can do that after getting a little more sleep," Alex said softly, refusing to let go of her to make sure she knew he was serious. "I know it's a lot of people, but none of them is gonna be up for breakfast at 5 am," he reminded her and chuckled softly. "I'll take an hour. Better to sleep for another hour than getting no more sleep." He tugged her back the littlest bit. "Come?" He asked again, unsure what needed to be done right now or what could be put aside for after they slept a little bit more.

His arms didn't move from around her waist which meant that he was going to stand firm on this one, so she turned off the stove and covered the pots and pans to keep everything safe. So she let him lead her away and back upstairs where they crawled into bed and she laid down next to Alex so that he would relax if she would give him an hour longer in bed.

He was glad she didn't fight him but rather followed him back upstairs where they crawled back into bed and he rolled onto his side and then draped his arm over Sophie while he shifted close to her and let out a soft breath. "Isn't this so much better than standing in the kitchen?" he teased softly and let out a chuckle.

He moved and his arm draped over her body to pull her closer to him. “It’s better than the kitchen sure but that doesn’t get all the work done that needs to be done.” She said because it was kind of true. She shifted and laid her body down and took a breath. “One hour, okay?” She Said which would be a little bit before six am at this point. She just wanted to impress everyone that she could do this.

"There's enough time to get things done, babe. Don't worry so much," he murmured. Alex was tired and really 4.30am was way too early to be awake so once he was settled back in bed, he started dozing back off to sleep. "Mmh," he let out but not really knowing what she said since he was already half asleep again, comfortable and cozy, curled back up with her.

"I want it to be perfect, we have so many people coming I just want to impress them." She had cooked dinner before for groups of people but all of them together, including her parents who had flown in for the occasion, made her a little more stressed than usual. He was already dozing back off though, so she wasn't sure if he heard her words as she closed her eyes and tried to relax her own body to get a little more sleep.

"Mh, 's all gon' be good," Alex mumbled, half asleep and barely listening. He held onto Sophie, just comfortable having her in bed and partially hoping she was gonna relax and rest too. He hadn't set an alarm though, so he really wasn't sure whether it was an hour or less.. Or more of sleep that he got.

She did manage to fall back to sleep, she didn't even think to set an alarm so when she woke next her eyes peaked up to see sun coming up and glanced at the clock reading quarter to eight in the morning and she jumped up splaying Alex's arms from her body. "We over slept!"

Alex groaned when Sophie jumped out of bed and he rolled onto his back and rubbed his face before blinking his eyes open. "What do you mean?" he grunted slightly and yawned. He stretched a bit before sitting up and glancing over to the clock to see what she was talking about. "We have plenty of time to get things done," he said calmly and then started to scramble out of bed, fully aware Sophie wasn't going to calm fully until they were back in the kitchen getting things done. He padded across the room to the closet, changing into comfortable pants and a hoodie, then grabbing a beanie to cover the mess of hair with.

Sophie didn't even really take the time to listen her long limbs scrambling across the bed and out the door and back down the stairs where she quickly got everything on the stove turned back on and dug out some of the things she needed to get working on. She wasn't going to force Alex to get up and help until he was ready, but she got herself a cup of coffee and poured it taking large sips in between as she poured milk into a pot to start making the base for the french toast casserole for breakfast and ripping about the open bread that was left out on the counter.

When Alex was changed, he grabbed a hoodie for Sophie to put on and be more comfortable before heading out of the bedroom. He let the dogs out and got Sansa too, feeding them before he was ready to help preparing the food. "Here, put this on and take a breath," he said, handing Sophie the hoodie and pressing a kiss to her temple. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he glanced around the kitchen. "What do you need me to do?"

When he came into the kitchen, she glanced up still stirring the pot in front of her as he headed towards her after taking care of their dogs. Stopping for a moment she pulled the hoodie over her nightgown and went back to stirring. "Well, you can peel both the potatoes and sweet potatoes, prep the green beans, or..." she glanced around. "Shred cheese for the baked macaroni and cheese."

Alex was glad she paused to put the hoodie on, though he could tell she was stressed. "Alright," he said with a nod and grabbed the potatoes so clean them up a bit and then pull out all that he needed to peel them. He knew it was almost late for the kids to still be sleeping, but it was a long day the night before and since there were several other adults in the house, he knew there were enough hands to keep them taken care of.

She was glad to be doing Thanksgiving, she really was, but that for sure didn't mean she wasn't stressed about making it as perfect as possible. She knew the kids would be up soon but thankfully adults would start milling about soon enough and be able to help out with the kids and anything else and they were always eager to help out. It was one thing she appreciated about their friends and family. Though she was glad that her parents were staying with Alex's so they did see her this stressed out nor did her mom try and jump in to help.

The house filled with movement soon enough and of course Rian was the first to come looking for coffee, a babbling Delphi in his arms. "Jack's stuck playing in Noah's room," he announced with a grin and glanced around. "Where's the coffee? I smell coffee." It only took a little longer until food for the afternoon was simmering and breakfast was spread out on the big dining table. Alex found Sophie in the kitchen and reached for her hand to pause her in grabbing more things to take to the dining table, and he pulled her into him a little bit, leaning in to steal a kiss from her lips. "Breakfast looks absolutely delicious and all that's being prepared right now smells amazing," he murmured softly.

Everyone was moving around soon enough when Rian came down with Delphi in his arms all excited to be getting attention from her uncle. "There's always coffee." she said glancing at Rian. "When has there ever not been coffee." she chuckled as she continued working away. At some point everything was nearly prepped, breakfast was on the table, people that were there already digging into everything. When Alex took her hands and turned her towards him, she looked at him. "Thank you." she said with a smile. "I've got everything almost going now so we just have to you know wait for everything to be done but luckily there's time for that. Are the kids watching the parade?"

"That sounds like timing is pretty good," he said with a small smile. "You don't have to stress so much, everyone's going to love this." He held her hands for a moment before letting them go. "Are you gonna come sit so we can eat some breakfast too?" he asked as he moved to refill his coffee and took a sip from it.

"I just want it to be perfect." she said, "That I can make things as nice for Thanksgiving as any other American." Since she was a Brit trying to do the traditional dinner. "I'm going to grab my own second cup of coffee and then I will have some breakfast." she said with a nod. "First." she pulled him back kissing him again. "Thank you I know I'm being a little over the top I just... want to impress your parents, my parents, everyone."

"It's gonna be perfect," he chuckled softly. "Don't worry so much, baby." He smiled when she pulled him back in and he kissed her back happily. "You're doing just fine, just glad you came back to bed," he teased slightly and reached up to brush her caress her cheek and then leaned in once again, kissing her softly again. After pulling away, he took her mug to fill it up with more coffee before they could settle at the table with anyone else who was up and hungry.

She gave a smile when he told her not to worry so much. "I still shouldn't have slept that long, I had to cut out homemade biscuits and bread and now have to use pre-made ones." she said glancing at him chuckling softly because she knew he really wasn't going to care about that, he was going to care about her stress level. Heading out they sat down and after talking and joking around they ate and were full she watched as all the kids playing on the ground with each other all happily, with Willa at the lead.

Alex loved all the commotion with having so many people around and while it could be exhausting, mostly it was just easier with the kids and everyone was in good spirits. Willa was leading her siblings to play and the three of them looked like they were having a blast. "Do you need me to do anything else in the kitchen?" Alex asked eventually as they cleaned up from breakfast. "I wanna run down to the barn to check up on the animals and then I hop in the shower before the big dinner and more people get here," he told her with a smile. "But I can help first, if you need me to do anything."

She knew by the end of the night or the next few days even, they'd be exhausted. As they got up from breakfast, she was grateful that the other women were helping to clean up. Willa was bossing them around playing some kind of version of the Macy's Day parade with their stuffed animals before they headed into the kitchen. "No, it's okay, I've got it for right now." she said nodding, "Go do what you need to do and I'll be here. Everything should be fine right now."

"Let me know when you need me," Alex said with a smile before he changed into his more outdoorsy farm clothes to head down to the barn. Jack tagged along, and Willa came running after him once she saw his farm ensemble and his boots on. So he got her bundled up to come with as well and little Sansa was by their side as well. She was a little sceptical at first but easily started to like all the bigger farm animals. They were outside for a bit, then Alex got Willa bathed and dressed up in a dress to look a little more fancy for dinner. After taking a shower himself, Alex dressed up a little too. Dinner was a blast everyone loved the food, just as Alex had expected and by the time the kids were in bed, the parents and a few friends had left so it was really just the band, Annie and Savannah left. "Oh, maybe we should light up the fire pit outside, bundle up and hang out there," Alex suggested.

The clean-up from everything was going to be a nightmare, but Sophie was firmly in a mood that was that was for tomorrow to worry about. Tonight was about drinking delicious wine and getting a little tipsy now that she had pulled it all off. Once the kids were put to bed and she was on her fourth glass of red wine she heard Alex's suggestion and looked up. "Oh I like that, that'd be perfect" she said, "We'll definitely need to bundle up though." she said. Since she was all dressy for Thanksgiving this definitely wouldn't do to keep her warm outside. "I can take Annie and Savannah upstairs and we can just use my clothes and then if you boys want to get the fire going, I think we have some stuff to make s'mores, roasted marshmallows, and all those kind of treats.' she offered.

It had been a really nice evening and once all the food was done and served, Sophie seemed a lot more relaxes. Alex knew it could be the wine that had them all a little tipsy, but mostly the pressure of getting everything done was off of her now. They were lounging in the living room before the idea of starting a fire popped into his head and everyone seemed to agree it would be nice. "Oh s'mores!" Jack said excitedly. Most of them changed as well to get out of the fancy and into more comfortable clothes but since Annie and Savannah needed to find some of Sophie's things to wear, Alex headed outside to start the fire. They had just spread the chairs around the pit and gotten some more so they could all fit when the girls returned and brought all they needed to make s'mores and roasted marshmallows. Alex settled in one of the chairs and set his phone up to have it hooked to the monitors they had in the kids rooms to make sure they were all safe and sound.

She knew once she said s'mores Jack was in, and it was amusing given they also had pies and cake and all other kinds of dessert that had been laid out but they were gushing over the s'mores. Sometimes it was the simpler things that was appreciated. They'd be able to make whatever kind they wanted given they had all kinds of chocolate on hand thanks to Sophie and loving chocolate. Upstairs she changed into a pair of sweats and handed a pair to each Annie and Savannah to wear before also giving them sweatshirts to get nice and cozy and fuzzy socks sicne she didn't have extra slippers laying around. Once they got back downstairs, she found everything set up and took her wine glass filling it again. "This is a perfect way to end the night." she said skipping the chair and sliding into Alex's lap.

The fire was cracking away and Alex couldn't help but think how perfect this was. It was cold out but they were bundled up and the fire was giving off enough heat for them to not be freezing. He smiled when the girl's returned and was just looking around for his own glass of wine, realizing it wasn't just empty but also out of reach anyway, that when Sophie slid into his lap, he took the wine glass to take a sip and then handed it back to her. "Perfect way to end a damn great night," he agreed with a smile.

When Alex took her wine glass to sip out of it she grinned. “You’re lucky I’m good at sharing.” She teased as she snuggled into her his body and took her glass back and her own sip. “Wait till I make myself a Reese’s peanut butter cup s‘ more.” But right now, she was content with just being able to relax and lay back in Alex’s arms and not worry about anymore cooking like that for a long, long time.

"I'm out of wine," he said as if that was explanation enough and then he chuckled softly as she snuggled into him more as comfortably as it was possible on the chair they were sitting in. "Mmh, are you gonna chair that too?" Alex smirked slightly, sneaking his arm around her though and resting back comfortably. After all the food they had it was funny how they could all even be thinking about s'mores. "You did great today, y'know," he murmured in Sophie's ear, a soft smile playing on his lips as he turned his head to look at her slightly.

“Well, you should have taken care of that before I sat down on your lap.” She teased him but she was more than willing to share because she was getting tipsy. “Definitely not sharing.” She Said when it came to her s’mores. When his voice dropped and she heard him she gave a small smile. “Thank you. I think your parents were really happy with everything.” She said. “Mine We’re so happy to see the kids.”

"You did not give me much of a warning," Alex laughed, but he really didn't mind. He liked that she simply ignored the chair they put out and took a seat in his lap instead and he wouldn't push her off just to get more wine. "They were. I think they're having a blast with your parents around too," he said, "I think I heard something about driving them around tomorrow. Think they may be up to some sightseeing." He really was glad they got along so well and he knew with how much they were traveling through the year, both sets of grandparents missed out on time with the little ones sometimes.

“Are you complaining about me sitting in your lap?” She asked raising a brow smirking at him. “Because I can go sit all by myself.” She pointed to the chair next to him and acted like she was going to get up off of him. “I’m really glad they are that they’re getting along so well. Not all parents do but seeing them get along and then going out to see places with your parents tomorrow makes me really really happy.”

"Oh no, you stay right here," Alex said quickly and his arm around her tightened a little bit to keep her in place. "It's good how well they do get along, right? They're having a good time," he chuckled softly and tugged her into him a little more. "How ‘bout those s'mores mh?"

His arm tightened around her and she snuggled back into him. “That’s what I thought.” She quipped. “It’s so good I mean until they gang up on us all together then we’ll regret it.” She chuckled softly. “For s’more I’m gonna have to move you know.”

"They're not gonna gang up against us,” Alex laughed softly. His arm held her tightly and he shook his head. "You can't move. You're shielding me from the heat of the fire so perfectly," he teased slightly.

"You never know." she said, "they could absolutely gang up on us when they get their mind to something. Don't underestimate our parents now that they're hanging out together." she chuckled softly. "So you want s'mores but you don't want me to move to protect you from the heat of the fire?" she asked raising a brow as she took a sip of her wine. "How to you think we're going to get those s'mores then?"

"Exactly," he said as if he was making perfect sense. Alex chuckled softly before taking her glass of wine with a grin. "I guess if you really want s'mores, I'll let you shift a little bit." He took a small sip of the wine before hanging the glass back and loosening his grip on her, his arm resting on the side of the chair, hand hanging there for a moment, but he almost jumped when something nudged it and he glanced down to see Sansa staring at him like she was ready to hop up and cuddle. "What's up, girl?" he cooed, petting her head a little bit. "You can't come up to cuddle right now, I only have so much room in my lap," he chuckled softly. "Your fur is so gonna smell like fire tomorrow. Maybe we'll have to bathe you."

"Oh, you'll let me?" she teased again with a soft laugh as she leaned in and kissed his lips. "Get a room." she heard one of the people say and she laughed against his lips. "They're always so mean to us you know that?" she quipped before she shifted to grab a marshmallow and a peanut butter cup and roasted the marshmallow before stuffing it together with the Reese’s cup between two graham crackers. Taking a bite she groaned, in a loud, drawn out, pleasured fill way. "So good, with Reese’s cups are..." she moaned again. "Superior by far." she said as Sansa came trotting over to them. "Aww she just wants some cuddle babe, I can move she can definitely keep you safe too." Teasing him as she reached down to pet the pup. "Definite bath, for all the dogs though, Porky is stinky." Which wasn't new for him he was always running around through things.

"That's just cause they're jealous," Alex laughed softly. Sophie shifted in his lap to reach forward and grab what she needed to make herself a s'more and Alex just watched in amusement how much she loved it. "Superior by far?" he repeated with a small smirk before Sansa came and caught his attention. "You hear that? She'd make room for you," he chuckled and when Sophie reached down to pet Sansa too, she let out a bark and then jumped up with her paws up against the side of the chair. "Oh, are you excited for your bath tomorrow? Let's hope you'll like it more than the other dogs."

"Superior by far, far better than just basic chocolate and marshmallow. the added peanut butter is perfection." she nodded, taking another bite of the ultra sweet concoction. "Are you going to get a bath and get extra clean." she murmured as she moved to help Sansa squeeze up between them, she was still a puppy but a bigger one than most but she wasn't huge yet. "Well let's just hope she's better than porky at the very least."

It really didn't take much more of an invitation than Sophie shifting to give a little bit of room for Sansa so she was up on Alex's lap too and curled up against his chest, wagging her tail a bit before getting fully comfortable. "We have to just make sure she doesn't get scared because once she's all grown it's gonna be a pain to bathe her if she hates it," Alex chuckled softly as he scratched behind the puppy's hear and just let her rest. "You think you could make me a s'more too or share yours with me?" he questioned with a look up at Sophie, "see I can't really get one myself like this."

#{pgraphs}#para;xsophsturns #{thanksgiving night}

0 notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Is this seat empty? " Yes and this one will be too if you sit down" , "Don't be like that my love."

For MLB!Harry first stupid fight in a relationship 😂

Okay this turned into something entirely different then the prompt. Sorry anon 😂

—

Peace & Quiet (Please)

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I write for free so if you enjoy my work please consider donating to my kofi page.

“Where d’you put m’protein mix?” Harry asks, padding into the kitchen and opening every single fucking cabinet.

“It’s in the same place it’s been for the past five years,” YN bites out with a slight irritation, mixing the pancake batter a little rougher.

She’s been up since three in the morning and Harry sauntered in around six-thirty after coming home late from a baseball game last night.

All the babies still asleep.

“Ah - fuck,” Her husband huffs when he spills the powder all over the countertop and floor she had just swiffered ten minutes ago.

When he goes to open the other cabinet and grab for a shaker bottle - they all come tumbling out onto the floor in a loud clash.

“Could you be any louder? You going to wake up the kids!” YN scolds harshly, pointing to the closet, “Go get the swiffer.”

He obliges - surprised by her attitude, grabbing it and slapping it (by accident) on the ground like a fucking baseball bat, the head of the mop snapping off and breaking.

“S’broken,” Harry states the obvious, shrugging and going about peeling a banana before leaving the peel near the sink.

YN turns to face him, voice irritated, “I’m about to break you, just like you broke the swiffer.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He asks cheekily but her glare tells him there is no amusement to be had this morning.

“I just spent all morning cleaning and you’ve made this place a disaster already!” His wife bites before flipping one of the pancakes.

Harry dejectedly cleans up his protein mix mess, neatly places the shake bottles into the right place, throws away the peel, and closes all the cabinets.

“M’sorry,” He murmurs, coming up behind her and kisses the nape of her neck, “Y’seem a bit cranky this mornin’.”

And man. He should have not said that.

“Do you have a baby who needs to fucking feed from your body every hour even during the night? I don’t think so,” She mutters, shaking him off of her.

“Hey, mama. M’bein’ an ass, what can I do to help?” He changes gears, choosing to stand next to her since she didn’t seem to want to be touch.

“Breastfeed - let your nipples feel like their constantly on fire and about to fall off. Make all this post-partum bleeding stop. Let me sleep for a day straight. I don’t know,” YN begins to sniffles, plating a few mini pancakes.

He’s taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he leans forward to flip off the stovetop, “Can I touch you?”

She nods, wiping her eyes, and allows him to haul her up into their marble countertop, “Mama, y’need to tell me when y’feeling overwhelmed? Please baby. I’ve asked you a million times to wake me up and I can bottle feed her.”

“No, she…I have to feed her. It helps bonding and it-“

Harry interrupts firmly, “She will be perfectly fine being fed by a bottle a few times a day. You’re putting too much stress on yourself.”

Her head falls on his shoulder and she mumbles, “I just feel so…gross, not attractive at all.”

He pulls her back, searching her face in confusion, “Baby, why would you ever say somethin’ like that?”

YN let’s out a quiet sob, “My nipples are chafed and sore, I’m constantly bleeding, my belly hasn’t deflated -“

Harry can’t help but lean in and connect their lips harshly, he’s pulling her loose shirt up and over her head.

“Harry, what-“

“Listen t’me,” Harry rasps seriously, his hands are tender and careful as they cup her swollen breasts - thumbing at her painful nubs.

“I’m literally obsessed w’your tits, baby. They’ll go back to normal after y’done feeding and even if they don’t - I love them just as fucking much. You fed our three healthy strong boys and now you’re makin’ sure our chunky little girl is eating good.”

Then he hands move to cup her belly, large hands splayed over the still softening, firm bump from where Briar had been housed for nine months.

“Y’gave me four, four fuckin’ babies from this belly. I’m fucking in love with your body. God, y’thighs, y’tummy, the stretchmarks - fuck, getting me hard just lookin’ at you.”

It was true, he was stiffening up in his shorts but neither of them acknowledged it - it was a love boner more than anything else.

He literally got hard from how much he loved her.

“I’m tired,” She sighs softly, letting Harry tug her shirt back on as the children would be waking up soon to eat breakfast.

“I know, mama,” Harry acknowledges softly, giving her another kiss before taking over the pancake station.

When all the boys are downstairs and chomping away on their food, Cash, who is just about four decides it’ll be funny to squirt the sticky syrup all over their expensive stool cushions and the floor.

When YN turns from the sink to see the mess, she admits she snaps a little bit, “Really Harry? You’re supposed to be watching them, not checking the sports news on your phone!”

Harry is about to defend himself but his wife is stomping over to where Cash has emptied the bottle and gives him a firm look, “Cash Edward Styles, get your bum upstairs, right now.”

Cash’s eyes widen, his mother rarely needed to use a harsh tone with them, “Mama, I’m so-“

“If you are not upstairs, by the bathtub this instant, you get no outside time today. Do you understand me?” YN tells him, giving Easton a warning look when he licks at the syrup on his finger.

“Yes mama,” Cash squeaks out sadly, abandoning his plate and walking up towards the bathroom upstairs to get clean.

Easton and Ezra are dead silent as they watch their brother leave - not wanting the same fate as him so they sit proper.

“Sweetheart-“ Harry begins, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“No, I have my hands full taking care of four kids. I don’t need you acting like a fifth. Go bathe your son,” YN tells him coldly, an angry stare directed his way.

Harry clenches his jaw, biting his tongue as he stands up and pushes his chair in with force - making a loud noise before following after his second son.

A few minutes after they’re out of sight, Easton thought it’d be funny to wipe syrup down Ezra’s cheek which made Ezra cry and throw a pancake at his older brother - now soaking him in syrup.

YN starts to leak milk at the sound of Ezra’s cries.

“Easton Robin - get you butt upstairs this instant too. You know better - no outside time today,” She informs him as she uses a wet wipe to clean Ezra’s cheek.

“Mama,” Easton whines, fat tears starting roll down his cheeks as he stands up, loitering by the kitchen stool.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” YN warns, swiping a paper towel over the wet spot on her shirt from the leak.

Harry had just started washing up Cash who was still melancholy when his blubbering older one comes in - still tearful.

He sighs, looking at his syrupy son, “Wha’ happened?”

Easton looks hesitant, “I put syrup on Ezzie and mama said no outside time today.”

His father is tight-lipped, he can already predict that Easton’s actions upset Ezra, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s clean y’up too. Y’know better, Easton.”

Harry had just finished helping both boys dress when YN appears in the doorway with Ezra who has a binkie popped in his mouth.

She steps over and hands their son to Harry before muttering, “I’m going to feed Briar, keep the boys out of the room. I need some peace.”

YN disappears from the room before he can even reply to her.

Harry can admit he gets distracted when one of his coaches calls him up for a game change, doesn’t notice when Cash sneaks from the playroom.

It’s less than five minutes later when YN leads Cash gently by the hand back into the playroom, with Briar still latched and feeding.

When she sees Harry on his phone, she’s fucking livid with him.

“Really Harry?” His wife scoffs, guiding Cash to join Easton in where he’s playing with legos.

“I’ll call you back,” Harry replies to his coach before hanging up, “Sorry, it was Donny-“

“Good to know your job is more important than watching your kids,” She spits out before storming back out of the room.

Harry is up and following behind her, jaw clenched and irritated, “Just ‘cause you’re in a pissy mood doesn’t mean that y’say shit like that.”

She turns on her heel, eyes fiery, “You have no god damn consideration. You’ve been swamped this week because of your nike promotion and games. I’ve had the babies all by myself for four nights while you get to gallivant around!”

Harry goes to speak but she puts her free hand up.

“I ask for you to keep our house clean and to let me have one moment of peace with our daughter but you don’t even let me have that! You do not understand how hard it is to push a baby out of you and then have them rely on you to feed them twenty times a day!”

His anger fades when his wife starts sobbing - chest shuddering sobs, “I just had her four weeks ago. I-I haven’t had a break yet. You act like it’s so easy!”

He starts to walk towards her, “Sweetheart-“

YN shakes her head, a desperate plea in her tone, “Please just give me time with Briar.”

Harry swallows harshly and nods - feeling like shit as his wife walks back towards the stairs - all the while still feeding their daughter.

“Hello?”

“Mum, I-can you take the boys for the night?” Harry asks quietly, standing in the kitchen while the two older boys are still playing quietly.

Ezra’s passed out, on Harry’s hip with his little face smushed against the cap of his shoulder with parted lips.

“Dear, is everything okay?” She replies cautiously.

“No, I-I don’t know. YN is overwhelmed and I don’t think I’ve been supportive enough,” Harry feels himself begin to sniffle.

Anne doesn’t pry for information which Harry loves about her, she agrees to take them, and states she’ll be over within the hour.

Harry goes about packing their pajamas and other necessities in their little backpacks as the squeal excitedly about going to Nana’s.

“Can we say bye to mama?” Easton asks anxiously as they clear out of their bedrooms.

“Let me go ask,” He murmurs, running a hand through his son’s curls.

When he cracks open the door, YN is sprawled out on her back, fast asleep with Briar also asleep in the bassinet next to the bed.

His heart aches because her shirt is off, and the remnants of her nipple cream which was a pinkish orange color wasn’t fully rubbed in on her bruised breasts.

Harry guides them downstairs, promising that their mama will call them later.

After the boys leave, Harry doesn’t know what to do so he cleans whatever he finds that is dirty or messy so she won’t have to.

He does all the laundry in the house, cleans up every single toy, and when Briar starts to whimper - he sneaks in to snatch her up so she doesn’t wake YN.

Then he takes her out to the shops with him to grab groceries, her favorite snacks, and maybe he does stop by a jewelry store and buy her something nice.

(casually a pair of 20k earrings)

YN fell asleep around eighty-thirty in the morning and doesn’t wake up until about nine at night, Harry had put Briar in her nursery about an hour ago.

When she does awake, Harry is sitting in the living room - watching a stupid action movie to pass time and dwell on everything.

She comes in quietly, stands in front of her husband who looks up at her with anxious eyes - she looks brighter now that she’s had adequate sleep.

“Will you hold me?” She rasps quietly, just in one of Harry’s shirts and soft pair of sleep shorts.

“Never haven t’ask, mama,” He murmurs, guiding her until she’s straddling his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

His hands sneak beneath her shirt to massage the sleep-warm skin as he kisses her shoulder - over and over again.

“I’m so sorry,” YN whispers into his skin, voice croaky as she tries to not get upset.

He pulls her back to study her face, “Do not apologize, y’allowed to get mad at me and feel frustrated. You’re emotions are valid. There’s a lot going on and I could be doing more to help.”

YN wipes a tear that trickles down as she laughs in disbelief, “No, you can’t do anymore to help.”

“Wha-? I can, I promis-“

She interrupts his with a kiss before telling him sincerely, “You can’t do anymore help because you’re already doing the most amazing job. As a husband and dad. I was just tired and stressed - it’s not an excuse.”

It warms his heart, he fucking loves her so much it does make sense, has to button their lips together one more time.

“You have a really hard job too, on top of being a husband and dad. You give us all this, support us and take care of us.”

“Are y’kidding me? Y’the one who keeps this family together. Y’the fuckin’ love of my life, you know that? I love you so much, so so much,” He emphasizes, rubbing a thumb across her bottom lip.

The kiss one more time - the anger was subsided and they were okay once again.

Harry laughs and agree when YN murmurs, “S’time for bed again, m’tired.”

“Okay mama, anythin’ for you,” He responds before peppering her in kisses to make her giggle lightly.

#mlb harry #mlb!harry blurbs #mlbrry #mlb!harry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles husband #husband!harry #dad harry #dad!harry #file

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

LOVE LANGUAGE

a/n: just a little fluffy something i cooked up one morning 🥰

pairing: Harry X Reader

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Harry doesn’t shy away from telling you how he feels. He has been very vocal about everything that goes on in his mind and you know he has come a long way from being reserved and keeping things bottled up inside him to always telling you what bothers him or what makes him happy. He was also the first one to say I love you. You already knew you felt that way, but you didn’t try to drop it on him like a bomb when he is not ready to hear it, but for your biggest surprise, he said it not long after that. Now it’s been four years and you’re happier than ever. It’s been your longest relationship and at the beginning you were afraid you’d get so used to each other that the sparkles and the fire would slowly vanish, but it never happened. You’re still just as passionate and wistful towards each other as you were in the first month when you spent most of your time in either your or Harry’s bed, exploring each other not just in a physical way, but you also just talked and talked and talked until you knew each other inside and out. And you grew to love him faster and harder than you did with anyone.

Though you love to hear him say those three tiny words, murmuring into your ear while he makes love to you, or hearing him croak it out first thing in the morning, whispering against your lips when he comes home or just dropping it anytime he feels like he hasn’t said it in a long time, your absolute favorite is still the times when he tells you he loves you without using those words. During your time together you’ve come to speak Harry’s love language pretty well. He is a very affectionate person, mostly when it’s just the two of you, but he doesn’t fail to show you his feelings even in the middle of a crowd.

He tells you he loves you without saying the words when you’re sick and he drops everything to come and take care of you.

You had been dating for only a few months when you caught a nasty stomach bug. Your breakfast came back quicker than you could even finish it and you were forced to call into your work and tell them you are not gonna make it into the office today. Then you texted Harry to cancel on your dinner plans and though you didn’t want to tell him that you’ve been spending most of your morning on your bathroom’s floor, he didn’t leave you until you told him what was wrong. Thirty minutes later he was at your place with two bags filled with everything and anything you could need. Medicine, tea, some plain biscuits for when you can finally keep something down and some of his clothes you love wearing when you’re at his place. But when he had checked in on you and made sure you had everything you could need, he didn’t leave.

“Harry, you don’t want to listen to me throwing up every five seconds. Just go and I’ll be fine, okay?” you groaned, lying on your couch that’s the closest spot to the bathroom in case you had to run for it.

“Leaving? I’m not leaving, Love. I’ll be right here—“

He couldn’t even get to finish because you had to throw up again even though you’d been trying hard to keep it together at least while he was there, but you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. Hunched over the toilet, the remaining of your breakfast ending up in it. As you were reaching up to flush it, a hand was faster than you, another one gently running up and down on your back. Harry was quick to kneel next to you, brush your hair out of your face as you waited if there would be more or you could get up from the floor. Harry didn’t say a word, he wasn’t grossed out and he didn’t leave. He spent the whole day by your side, helping and soothing you until you could finally fall asleep in his arms as he kept kissing your forehead, gently humming to you.

He tells you he loves you without saying the words when he buys you things he thinks you’ll love.

It’s not always something useful or expensive, though he is quite good at spending a fortune on you even though you’ve told him several times not to spend that much money on you. Sometimes it’s just something small and seemingly insignificant.

Like when you got obsessed with an ice-cream brand, you ate it day and night, buying basically the whole supply from your local grocery store, up until there was no more. You waited and waited for the restock, but it never came and you later found out that they won’t be selling it anymore.

Harry tracked down the closest store that had the brand, drove almost two hours just to buy it and then came home with a whole box of it, filling your entire freezer with just the ice-cream.

“The saddest thing is that it’s gonna be gone in like a week,” you sighed as you finally shut the freezer closed, finding your boyfriend smirking at you.

“Then I’ll go and get you more,” he simply shrugged, before stealing a quick kiss.

Harry tells you he loves you without saying the words when he watches out for you even when you are not doing that for yourself.

On your third anniversary he was able to make some time for a vacation, just the two of you on a small island with endless sunshine and warm, sandy beaches. You stayed at a private villa that had its own little beach so you could be entirely alone, without prying eyes and nosy fans.

You’d been lying out in the sun for a while and you completely forgot to use any sunscreen. When Harry returned from inside with some water for the both of you, he simply started applying it to your back without a word, making sure he covered every part.

“Mm, thank you,” you mumbled when his fingers started massaging your muscles, the strings of your bikini soon coming undone.

“Don’t want my baby to get sunburnt, right?” he mumbled, kissing you under your ear. It didn’t take long for the tow of you to take advantage of being so hidden away, your bikini bottom coming off along with his swimming trunks, having some giddy, sandy sex on the beach that definitely continued in the shower when you were trying to get rid of all the sand that stuck to your skin.

He says he loves you when he makes excuses to go home earlier from a party just because he knows you’re tired. Or when he waits for you with dinner after a long day, making your favorite. He makes you feel so loved with all his little touches and looks, the way he talks about you to others and how he always makes you his priority.

It’s not always in the words but in the actions, you’ve become fluent in Harry’s love language and you can only hope he understands yours as well. That every time you wake up before him you make sure his coffee would be already done by the time he stumbles out of the bedroom. Or when you ask him to pull over when you’re on a road trip so you can switch and drive for a while because you can tell that he is tired. It’s your way of saying you love him when you drop by the studio with food for him and the band when you know they’ve been probably locked up in there working for way too long and also when you make him the little spoon after a tiring day, knowing how much he loves to be held sometimes. It’s all in the tiny things, understanding each other’s love language.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader

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deadwriter16 · 2 years

Note

prompt: lazy sunday mornings for bkdk <3 (ps i love everything u write and whenever u post fic i d i e thank u for sharing your talent!!)

omg i love this trope and yet i never really write it, despite how much i want to. i've been meaning to write lazy morning fluff for them!

Edit: anon I forgot to thank you for your compliment!! I’m so glad u like my fics!!

send me a trope and i'll write a bkdk drabble!

----------

It’s not often Katsuki allows himself to sleep in. But yesterday was a hard mission and he and Izuku got home at three in the morning, so exhausted they were barely able to take off their tattered, bloody hero costumes. Those lie in a heap on the floor now; Katsuki will clean them up later. But for now, he’s enjoying the feeling of waking up slowly, sunlight already streaming through the cracked blinds and the covers rumpled by another body that’s fully wrapped around Katsuki. It’s warm, and Katsuki usually doesn’t get this, always waking up at five for his morning runs. He’s used to waking up to Izuku’s clingy hands reaching for him, whining for him to come back to bed despite knowing Katsuki’s morning routine by heart. Katsuki would just kiss his forehead and Izuku would mumble I love you, and Katsuki would leave. But not today.

No, today is Sunday and Katsuki slept the fuck in. And now he’s waking up to Izuku’s quiet breathing, head buried in Katsuki’s chest and all four of his limbs curled around Katsuki’s body. Katsuki blinks his eyes open and runs a hand softly through Izuku’s curls, allowing himself a smile at how Izuku hmms in his sleep. Katsuki keeps petting his hair, staring at Izuku’s baby face and poking some of his freckles. The movement makes Izuku stir, and he comes awake with a smile as he sees Katsuki.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, gooey and delighted, “you’re here.”

“Slept in,” Katsuki responds, “mornin’ nerd.”

“Morning,” Izuku whispers, crawling up Katsuki’s chest to plant his face into Katsuki’s bare collarbone, lazily kissing up his neck. Katsuki rolls his eyes but lets Izuku have his fun, stroking his hand up and down Izuku’s back in the meantime.

Eventually Izuku reaches Katsuki’s mouth, and kisses him once before pulling away. Katsuki unconsciously chases it, but lets Izuku go and lay his head back on Katsuki’s chest. Izuku closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. Katsuki smiles.

“‘M glad you’re here,” Izuku says, “I miss you in the mornings.”

“You could always come run with me.”

“At five thirty in the morning?” Izuku scrunches up his nose, “no way!”

Katsuki reaches out and boops Izuku’s nose; Izuku giggles.

“Your loss, then,” Katsuki shrugs. And then, “Miss you too, though.”

“Aw, Kacchan,” Izuku laughs, “you should sleep in more often. You’re so much less grumpy.”

Katsuki swats at him. “That’s ‘cause you didn’t fuckin’ snore last night.”

“I do not snore!” Izuku protests, despite knowing damn well he does.

“You live in denial,” Katsuki tells him, dropping a kiss to his curls and then moving to get up. Izuku whines loudly and reaches for Katsuki, but he’s already sitting up and pushing the covers aside. Izuku flails blindly, but Katsuki manages to stand.

“Where’re you going, Kacchan?” Izuku pouts, “come back to bed.”

“Someone has to make your lazy ass breakfast,” Katsuki replies, walking out of their bedroom and into the kitchen, a small smile on his face. He goes to the kitchen of their little apartment and starts cooking some eggs. A few minutes later, ever clingy Izuku walks outside and wraps his arms around Katsuki’s waist. Props his head over Katsuki’s shoulder and kisses the side of his neck before nuzzling into it.

“You got up fast,” Katsuki notes, flipping over an omelet.

“Missed you,” Izuku says, as if it’s obvious. Katsuki’s heart flutters. No matter how many times Izuku expresses his affection, Katsuki never learned how to take it.

“Idiot,” Katsuki tells him, but it’s fond. Basically a term of endearment.

“Love you,” Izuku murmurs, soft and dripping with adoration.

Katsuki knows he sounds exactly the same. “Love you too.”

#this was fun and soft and sappy and disgusting #thanks for asking <3 #bkdk #bakudeku #bkdk fic #bkdk trope ask game <3 #my fics <3

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ackerfics · 3 years

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levi who's fascinated with the way you apply makeup on yourself and watches you every time you do it, surprisingly does well when you tell him to do your makeup just for fun

i am one of those people who have no idea about applying makeup but i'm levi when somebody's doing it tho, especially if that someone is a close friend of mine snjdnwjnw i just stare at them while they continue doing their thing, it's so fricking satisfying <3

but this is levi we're talking about so here we go:

(pls don't attack me for what i write in this bc i absolutely have no idea abt doing makeup. my knowledge in this is very limited and revolves around watching youtube videos and watching my friends do it bdwjwbj)

if you're planning on going out, even if it's a natural makeup look since you're only hanging out with some old friends or preparing for your class (online or not), levi is ready to stop what he's doing to appreciate the colors you paint over your eyelids or how you blend them so well until they become this aesthetic levi associates you with. for him, you're already so pretty without makeup but when you dedicate your time in perfecting your craft, creating so many looks, levi thinks that it enhances your beauty because you look so adorable while working so hard.

he admires that about you.

you are rummaging in your pouch in your shared apartment's dining table, the morning sunlight filtering through the windows and the pink skies blanketing the waking-up city. the smell of french toast and tea covers the entire space, levi cooking breakfast for the day. you have an online class scheduled in about thirty minutes and after going out of the bathroom, you instantly start making yourself look presentable. you have your laptop opened to your camera app as your mirror, deciding that a change of scenery is perfect for your productivity. you pick up your vitamin c dropper and moisturizer and let the low music from levi's phone fill in the background, your hums mingling with the singer's voice. since all of your classes were announced to be set online for the whole year, you opt for a lighter look which still covers the blemishes that your camera can't hide.

you hear a plate click on the spot beside your laptop, a mug of your favorite brew of coffee on your cat coaster appearing soon after.

"what time is your first class?" levi asks you as he's settling in his chair adjacent to yours. he always chooses that seat wherever you two eat since as he claims it, i want you close to me.

you look up from rubbing the moisturizer on your skin. "oh, 7 a.m., i chose the worst time to take that class."

levi sips on his tea. "you have economics, right?"

you begrudgingly nodded. "i know it sucks but i can't do anything about it." you run your fingers over your eyes. "damn, i have dark eye circles." after putting on your primer, you start by putting on concealer on your under-eyes, dabbing on your skin gently. the whole day, you'll be lounging and doing work inside the comforts of your shared apartment with your boyfriend so going overboard with the makeup won't help and will be a lot of work to erase later after your classes. "what time is your class, levi?"

by now, levi's breakfast is forgotten as he leans on his chair, gray eyes following each of your movements. he always find himself captivated with how effortlessly you make yourself even prettier. even though he prefers your bare skin more (placing random kisses on your cheeks or the corners of your lips are more doable without the feeling of cream stuck on his lips), he still likes how makeup turns you into an artist that uses your face as a blank canvas. he watches with awed eyes how you daintily dab your cream blush over your cheeks and over you the bridge of your nose, blending it that levi thought it's a natural glow on your skin.

with a dazed tone, he answers, "nine."

you glance at him with the prettiest eyes he ever find on a person. you sigh when you realize that he woke up early to make breakfast. "i can cook breakfast, you know. you should've slept in today, levi."

levi shakes his head, sipping on his tea. "no, i'd rather wake up early and make breakfast every day than snuggle alone with our pillows." he then shrugs. "besides, watching you do your morning routine is a great way to start the day."

you only smile at him before cutting a piece of french toast and putting it in your mouth. a hum of satisfaction lights up your face. levi's way of cooking traditional breakfast dishes never fails to amaze you. he has these secrets that even you don't know of since he wants to cook for you with surprises sometimes. with half of your french toast consumed, you continue with your eyebrows and eye makeup, which only consists of applying one shade of eyeshadow and putting on mascara.

if levi has a favorite part of your routine, it's you curling your eyelashes and applying mascara on them to make your eyes more noticeable. and as he watches you create the illusion that your eyelashes longer than they are, he can't prevent the blissful sigh coming out of his lips. it catches your attention and the moment your eyes meet with his, levi's cheeks start to warm. that pretty smile that always take his breath away greets his vision, making him shy under your gaze.

"like what you see, babe?" you jokingly ask.

after staring on his untouched french toast like they're worth displaying in a museum, levi looks back to you with half-lidded eyes. "very much, baby."

now, you're the one with flaming cheeks. the little moment turns into something that induces a laugh from levi, with you huffing that your heart sometimes can't take his words. you go back to finishing your french toast before applying your flavored chapstick, levi's loving stare never faltering, lasting even when you have your first class of the day.

every once in a while, you hand levi your makeup pouch with an expectant stare. the first time you did this to him, he couldn't comprehend what your intention is at first until you tell him that you want him to be the one doing your makeup this time. he nearly backs out. he's scared of poking your eyes out but you reassure him that he will never do that.

for a person who never imagined himself in this position, the ending result becomes your favorite look. not because it's levi but because he did it so minimally that it appeals to you.

"this is for your face, right?" levi softly asks, lifting your moisturizer. he's sitting close to you, inches separating your faces. he's saying that it makes him see clearer but you know that he's being clingy without saying anything. "i just want to make sure i'm using the right products."

"levi, sweetheart," you laugh under your breath, "i already laid out everything on our bed. and in order. you got this."

he sighs. "you have another minute to think this through. we're meeting with the others in the club and i can't have you looking like my coloring book when i was three."

you place your hands over his cheeks. "relax, levi, you'll do fine!"

"fine."

opening the moisturizer, he keeps glancing at you to check if he's putting the right amount on your skin. once the small dots of cream are on your face, levi takes a deep breath and gently rubs it to cover your skin. despite having blemishes, levi thinks that your skin feels so soft underneath his calloused fingers. he'll caress your cheeks the whole day if not for your supposed call time which is in forty minutes. a sigh brushes on your face, levi cursing erwin for making them come on time. once he finishes rubbing your moisturizer on your face, he nods in approval, and kisses your lips quickly before moving on to the next step which is the primer.

you are admiring levi the whole time his face scrunches up in concentration. you're holding your laugh back when you see his lips curling in distaste, having applied more than your instructed amount. you're looking at him with a soft stare, your small smile fondly lifts up your lips. his eyes are a beautiful shade of silver, blue tones peeking through, and it makes your heart warm. his skin glows under the overhead lights of your shared bedroom, smooth to the touch. there are no words left to speak --- levi is simply the most beautiful person gracing your life, the definition of pretty and handsome combined together.

"okay, i'm starting your eyes now."

you didn't register that he's finished with applying concealer and blush on your cheeks.

levi turns to the opened palette sitting on the towel-covered duvet. "which shade are you feeling right now?"

with a cheeky grin, you answer, "how about you surprise me."

"... if i hear one complain from you later, you can always catch a ride with four-eyes on the way back."

levi eyes a specific palette with oranges and browns and starts winging it. if someone looks from the sidelines, levi looks like he's ready to murder someone. his eyes are narrowed, bottom lip in between in teeth, and face scrunched in peak concentration. he starts with that shimmery dark peach eyeshadow he finds pretty on you, then continuing with something darker on the outside corners of your eyes. one eye lasts for ten minutes but you understand since this is levi's first time applying makeup on a person. you can feel his breath tickling your face since he has scooted closer to you to perfect this.

"okay, i'm done, what's next?"

"liquid eyeliner."

that alone makes levi stop.

"then it's the mascara. your favorite part."

"... you do the eyeliner. i don't want you going blind because of me."

in short, levi is phenomenal with makeup and he doesn't even know it.

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sirtommyholland · 3 years

Text

Four Years of Birthdays

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn’t my first time writing for Harry but my first time actually posting it so I’m very excited! This is inspired by the little piece I wrote on Tom Holland’s birthday, I wanted to make a similar concept. Hope you guys like it, and happy birthday to our beloved baby boy Harry Styles! We love you so much!💜

Word Count: 2.4k (she tiny because I suck)

Summary: Harry’s four different birthdays with Y/N in differents points of his life.

Fluff all the way! with like a little talk about sexual themes because I had to.

poc friendly and plus size friendly (I think, please tell me if I made a mistake!) because we dont blush bright red or swim in men’s clothes in this house💫

2019 - 25th Birthday

Spending his birthday with Y/N was one of Harry’s favourite things. Over the last ten years of his life, she had missed quite a few of them as he was on the road and she was back home in London, going to uni and living a normal life. It was only the last couple of years that he was able to be home on his birthday, his solo career allowing him a bit more freedom to arrange his schedule as he wanted.

This year, he had wanted to have a quiet birthday, just with his family and close friends. And of course, his girlfriend, who was currently climbing on his back on the bed, trying to coax him out of sleep.

“Loviee” she whined into the back of his neck between kisses. “Wake up.”

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual as he groaned, trying to bury himself more into the pillows to avoid the bright sunlight in the room. “‘M sleepy.”

“But it’s your birthday.” she protested with a kiss to a small part of his cheek that wasn’t hidden away. “I need to give you your 25 kisses.”

“Just 25?” he frowned, raising his head from the pillow to look back at her. “That’s nowhere near enough! You kiss me more on a regular day.”

“Hmm..” she pretended to ponder his words, one of her hands going up to brush away the soft curls that fell on his forehead. “Then how about I give you a blowie for 25 minutes?”

Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would still be able to hear the grin in his voice. “Now that’s more like it.” He was turning over and laying on his back in a heartbeat, tugging at her thighs to make her straddle him again.

She complied, throwing one leg over his hips and gently sitting on thighs, not putting her full weight. She leaned down to softly brush her lips against his, once, twice, three times. “Happy birthday, baby.” she sighed against them, rubbing her nose against his lovingly.

“Thank you, angel.” he smiled, letting his hands roam over the soft material of her shirt. “I reckon it’s gonna be the best one so far.”

“Really? Is there a reason why?” she grinned, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Because this is the first one I’m waking up with you as my girlfriend. Finally,” he sighed. “I can kiss you for real instead of making a wish for it when I blow out the candles.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she teased with a smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. “I still can't believe you wished for it.”

“Literally every year.” he confirmed, only blushing slightly under her loving gaze. “Honestly don’t know what I’m gonna wish for this time. It’s been the same thing for many years.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She placed a final peck to his lips, then swiftly got up from his lap. “Now get up, your mum’s expecting us for breakfast.”

“But- but- my blowie!”

She looked back to see an adorable pout on his lips, one that she almost couldn’t resist. Almost.

“Later.” she promised, pulling him to his feet and laying a few kisses on his neck. “I’m gonna take care of you properly tonight, after your party. Along with your final present.”

“You’re a tease.” he breathed, the meaning behind her words not so hidden. She grinned, and trailed her hand softly down his back until she was grabbing his bum, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Heyy!” he jumped, trying to grab her before she made a run for the bathroom, and failing.

“Pick your outfit, it takes ages!” she yelled through the closed door, making him huff and fall back on the bed dramatically.

“Harry Edward Styles!” Well, guess she knew him too well.

“Yes, ma’am!”

2009 - 15th birthday

“Hello.”

Harry raised his head from the plastic cup he was refilling, to see a familiar girl looking at him with a friendly smile.

“Hi.” he smiled back as he straightened up, silently giving her the cue to go on.

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I really liked your performance. You guys were incredible!”

“Oh, thank you! Of course you’re not bothering me. I’m glad to know you liked it.” He grinned. “We’re at the same school, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never actually talked, I think. I’m Y/N, by the way. Will invited me because I live next door.” she explained, nodding towards his bandmate that was currently hosting his birthday party/small concert in his garage.

“You don’t need to explain yourself! Next time, I’ll just have to make sure that I invite you myself.”

She grinned at his words. “That’s very nice of you, Harry. Oh, and happy birthday, by the way! I almost forgot.” Right, she was at his birthday party. She already knew his name.

“Thank you! And thanks for coming.”

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the lights were dimmed and the back entrance of the garage was illuminated with a soft, orange light as his friends brought in the cake. Off-key voices singing him happy birthday filled the space, and he made his way to his friends with a huge smile on his face, Y/N joining the small crowd around him as they waited for him to blow out the candles.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” one of his mates yelled just as he was leaning towards the cake.

“Sorry.” he chuckled, then closed his eyes to make his wish. I want to make music. For all my life.

Little did he know, that would be his only wish in the next ten years that didn’t involve the girl that he had just met.

2016 - 22th birthday

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!”

“What the fuck.” he muttered into his pillow, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if his phone was actually ringing with a Taylor Swift song. But even when he was wide awake after a few minutes he could still hear her melodic voice, so he reached out with a groan and checked the caller ID. Of course.

“How did you manage to change my ringtone all the way from London?” he answered in a groggy voice.

“Well, good morning to you too, hun, took you long enough! I’m very good, thanks for asking! And I got Niall to do it yesterday, obviously.”

“... Morning Y/N.”

“Oh, stop grumbling, it doesn’t suit you. Get up and get ready, I’m gonna facetime you in thirty minutes.” And before he could say anything, she hung up on him.

He looked at this phone in disbelief. Did she just hang up on me on my birthday?! He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. To be honest, there were a lot of things he couldn’t help when it came to her.

Half an hour later, when he was freshly showered and dressed, his phone rang with an incoming facetime call just like she said. She probably set an alarm for exactly thirty minutes, he thought fondly.

Her smiling face greeted him as he accepted the call. “Happy birthday, Haz!!”

“Thanks, love.” he chuckled, eyeing the tiny cupcake in front of her through the small screen. “Whatcha got there?”

“That’s your birthday cupcake, made it myself! Was tired of shitty store-bought cake.”

“I don’t know, it looks kind of ugly.” he joked, grinning at her mock-offended face. “I could do better. I worked in a bakery, ya know.”

“You literally just ran the register and washed the dishes.”

“Still, in a bakery!”

She was shaking her head at his shit-eating grin, but he could still see a soft smile playing at her lips. It caused his heart to flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling at him like that everyday.

“Anyway, candle time!” she piped, grabbing a lighter from somewhere behind the camera and lighting up the single candle on her tiny cupcake.

Harry watched her raise the cupcake closer to the camera and she instructed him to make a wish. This routine was familiar to them now. Every year, she would video call with a different type of cake, to make up for not being able to be there with him.

Harry closed his eyes, and made the same wish that he had been making for the last six years of his life. I wish you were mine.

He opened his eyes and blew lightly towards the screen, her actions matching his as she blew out the candle in his place. She gave a little cheer afterwards, and the brightness of her eyes warmed him up all the way down to his toes, even through a phone screen.

They talked for a while after that, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing the dates they would be able to meet up again. She hung up with a final ‘happy birthday, love you!’ and then he was left staring at his phone, a small smile still remaining on his face. I wish you were mine.

And later, when he logged onto his twitter account and tweeted some certain song lyrics, he only cared about one person’s reaction out of millions.

2018 - 24th birthday

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Harry turned towards the kitchen door that led to the back garden, seeing her slide it close to make her way towards him.

“Just taking a breather, love.” he said, accepting his woolly coat that she handed him. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.” She sat next to him on the wooden porch bench, wrapped up in her own fuzzy coat. There was another item in her hand, a thick, heavy looking box.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Oh, I came here to give it to you. Your final gift.”

“Y/N.” he sighed. “The others were more than enough.”

“I don’t think this even counts as my gift, honestly.” She grinned at the puzzled look on his face. “Just open it.”

He did. Inside was a thick notebook, a scrapbook by the looks of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday Harry! - 2018’

He looked at her curiously, but she just smiled and told him to open it again. He turned to the first page, and ran his gaze across the page. His eyes widened in surprise. He quickly flipped a few pages to see that all of them had the same thing; printings. Printed screenshots from various social media platforms, of his fans wishing him a happy birthday.

“I know you don’t use social media a lot these days.” she explained as he kept reading the tweets glued onto the scrapbook. “But you were trending on Twitter today, and yesterday too, lots of people wishing you a happy birthday and telling how much they loved you. I thought you might want to see it.”

He let out a watery laugh, not being able to tear his gaze away from the book in his hands. He couldn’t help the tears, not really. She had taken the time to print out lots and lots of tweets, instagram posts, everything; she had cut them and put them in this book and added little stickers in between with colorful doodles. And she had done it to carry his fans’ messages to him, she had basically hand-delivered their gifts of love to him.

“Thank you.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat. “This is… I think this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not technically from me. I just put some tweets together, your fans are the ones who wrote them.” She paused, then added. “I just wanted you to see just how loved you are. By everyone. You have such a kind heart, and an amazing soul; all of these people are aware of it and they love you for it.” She tapped the book in his lap, emphasising her words.

“Thank you.” he repeated himself, seemingly at a loss for words. He closed the book and carefully put it back in its box, intending to read everything in it later. He placed it beside him, then turned to her and pulled her in a hug.

Her arms were around him in a second, not hesitating to tighten around him and pull him closer. She was so warm even in the cold weather, and she smelled so nice, and he wouldn’t be able to pull back if he tried. He didn’t know how long they sat there in each other's embrace, but when he felt her starting to lean back, something in him shifted. He turned his head towards her as she pulled away, so his cheek was softly grazing hers. She stilled a bit, looking into his eyes as if she was looking for something, then she closed her eyes and turned the rest of the way, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss.

His breath hitched in his throat as his lips slightly parted, a small gasp making its way out of them when he realized finally, finally he was kissing her. He was kissing Y/N. This was really happening.

He brought a hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as they kissed, probably the softest, the most incredible kiss of his life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe how amazing she felt against him, how her hands in his hair felt just right, how warm her cheek was under his hand.

But despite every bone in his body wanting to kiss her forever, he was the first one to pull away, because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I wish you were mine.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly, apparently still under the effect of their kiss.

“I wish you were mine.” he repeated. “That’s the wish I’ve made on every single birthday since I was sixteen. Everytime you looked at me and told me to make a wish, I was only able to think about how much I wanted to kiss you.”

She stared at him with parted lips, looking into his eyes like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. She could only see love and admiration.

“You’re an idiot, Harry Styles.” she breathed. Then, she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him again, and again, and again, and he felt like everything in his life was finally going to be okay.

some end notes: Sooo I’m sorry for the kind of shitty ending. It’s literally 3 am in Turkey rn and I have an early class but I just wanted to finish this quickly and post it before I went to bed. I haven’t written anything in months because I wasn’t 🌌feeling it🌌 so I basically bullied myself into writing this haha. This is my first posted Harry piece but there are a few other pieces I’ve been working on! (for months, literally. *sigh*)

If you liked it, please feel free to reblog and leave a teeny tiny feedback! Writers really appreciate it!💜

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #happy birthday harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #best friends to lovers #pining

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dailydaydreamings · 3 years

Text

Best in the Worst Way, Chapter 14

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

Okay okay, warning. This one got away from me (18+). Also, as always, I outdid myself on the swearing. It’s a little shorter, but for a reason. Thank you to all the responses! Enjoy this part :)

You have this memory in your head.

You’re not sure when it happened, it must have been early in your relationship though, because Steve and Bucky weren’t living with you yet.

The morning starts off so beautifully slow. Dawn breaks and your room fills with soft light. It was one of the few mornings you didn’t have to set an alarm.

You wake to feel slow, sloppy kisses up your naked back. You moan, curling back against Bucky. You feel the slow prodding of Steve’s fingers as he teases you awake.

You moan again, still not sure if you’re dreaming. “Good morning.”

Bucky grinds himself against your rear. You can feel Steve sliding himself over your entrance. You gasp, clutching at the sheets, desperation hitting you hard and fast. It doesn’t matter they kept you up all night. You wanted them both now.

“Please,” you murmur, leaning forward to wrap a leg around Steve. “Oh, please, please, please.”

Bucky’s stubble tickles that sensitive spot on your neck and you jerk backwards into his embrace. “So polite in the morning,” he bites at your ear. “But not very specific. Use your words baby, please what?”

His hands slide up to grasp your breasts. Steve moans in front of you, gripping your hips, but still not giving you what you want. Your hips buck faster, more erratically, hoping he can just slip in.

“Stop it, Steve,” Bucky grunts.

Steve practically whines but does as he’s told.

“No,” you keep moving on him, desperate now for some friction. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Bucky’s tongue licks the inside of your ear.

“Please,” your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Please fuck me.”

Bucky chuckles darkly, tweaking a nipple, “How should we fuck you, hm?”

You bit your lip, “I want both of you. To fuck me, just like this.”

Bucky bite on your ear lobe, “All you had to do was ask, baby.” And with almost no warning, he, already lubed, slides into you from behind.

“Oh!” You gasp, needing a second to adjust to the suddenness.

Steve leans forward, sucking on that spot to help you relax. In half a second you’re moaning and begging for more again. Steve grabs your leg, wrapping it around himself and enters you slower, more gently.

You moan deeply, your head falling back against Bucky’s shoulder.

“How does she feel, Steve?” Bucky asks, his hand stroking up and down your side.

Steve only moans in response. The sound causing you to drag your nails down his back. You reach back to grip the back of Bucky’s neck, withering between them. Steve sets the pace, grinding into you, sending you back into Bucky, who pushes you forward again.

Steve’s mouth comes down to your neck and that’s it, you’re release rockets through you thanks to the extreme pleasure of the two of them inside of you.

Their lazy, morning pace continues. They get two more out of you before the three of you are left gasping, clutching to each other for air. You could die right now, right here, and you would be perfectly happy, you realize.

Steve kisses the top of your head as he rolls away, asking if you want pancakes or French toast. Bucky kisses your cheek, saying he’s going to run out to your favourite coffee shop.

The rest of the day was just as perfect. You eat breakfast, you drag the boys to the beach. Bucky refuses to go in the water and Steve gets a wicked sunburn, but they fall asleep tangled together in the sand while you read your book. It starts to rain at some point, just misting. It wakes them up and as you reach the boardwalk, it starts to pour.

You take cover in an ice cream shop, with the most ridiculous flavours. Between the three of you, nearly all of them were tried much to the dismay of the shop owner, but then you each bought a giant cone.

The rain didn’t let up, and the air conditioning plus your wet clothing made it unbearable after a while. You make a break for the car and Bucky blasts the heat, while you sit there waiting for the rain to stop.

You head home, have dinner, and someone mentions that there’s a late showing of a new movie, you’ll make it if you leave now. You run to the car, and miss the previews, but you sit between your boys, happy as can be. Even if the three of you fell asleep and had to be woken up the usher when it was over.

It was one of the happiest days of your life. There was no work, no missions, no stress. Just the three of you. You could just be.

It is a moment you search for when things feel impossible. When you want to throw something at Steve. When Bucky forgets something and you feel like you’re losing parts of him. The perfect day. Even with the sunburns, the sand caking your bodies, the wet clothes in your car, the wasted movie ticket. None of it mattered, except for the people around you. Because it was also the day you realized you loved them.

It’s what you remind yourself of as you drive to the hospital as another contraction hits. Your stomach tightens painfully and your whole body goes rigid.

You cry out, your hand grasping the arm rest with a death grip. The pain would be worth it. The babies would be here soon. It’ll all be fine. Totally fucking fine. But holy fuck it hurt.

“Can you go any fucking slower?” You look over at Bucky. He, for the record, looks about ready to pass out but is still in better shape than Steve.

“I swear this is the only day ever there is traffic,” Bucky mumbles. He wasn’t wrong, the drive normally took less than twenty minutes. They’d already been driving for thirty.

Steve rubs your shoulders from the backseat, “Isn’t there that festival downtown today?”

You turn in your seat, swatting Steve’s hands away, “That would have been helpful before we left, you—”

You cut yourself off as another contraction hits. You brace your hands against the door. Holy shit this hurt.

“They’re really close together,” Steve mumbles.

“Thank you for your fucking observation,” you pant. Holy shit they were. Your head lulls back against the seat. You just needed a moment, just one second to breathe. Please.

Bucky’s hand comes to pet your leg, “You’re doing great, baby. Almost there.”

“I’m never fucking doing this again,” you mumble, wanting to curl into a ball as you can already feel another one coming.

You expected the pain, but this was too much too fast. There was no time to adjust. No break between contractions.

“I feel like I need to push,” you gasped as the last one finished. There was a new pressure. You’d always wondered what women meant when they said they needed to push and this was it.

“It’s way too early,” Steve rubs your shoulders again. “You’re hours away.”

You barely manage a moan, reaching back to grab his hand, desperate for some contact now. “I’m not joking. I really feel like I need to push.”

Bucky shot you a look, “We’re two minutes out. You’re not having these babies in the car.”

You groan. The longest two minutes of your life later, you’re pulling up. Steve is out, calling for a wheelchair before helping you to your feet. You lean against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

A nurse comes running out, helping you into your chair, “How are we doing, mama?” She asks.

You shake your head, bracing yourself through another contraction. When it eases, you gasp, “I feel like I need to push.”

She shoots Steve a look, “How long has she been in labour?”

“About an hour and a half?” They’d guesstimated it. Your contractions really hadn’t been painful or consistent until you started dinner.

She shakes her head, starting to wheel you inside, “You’ve got hours to go before that, don’t worry hon.”

You grip the arm rests like a vice. You were not going to be able to handle hours more of this. If this wasn’t time to push, you weren’t looking forward to what it was going to feel like. The pressure was insane.

Bucky jogged up beside you as you were wheeled up to admitting.

“Are you the father?” The nurse asks.

“Yes.” Both boys answer in unison.

She looks up in surprise, but waves you all in. They help you into a gown, into bed.

Dr Lawrence waltzes in, “I was not hoping to see you three for a couple more weeks. How are you, y/n?”

Not well. The pressure you were feeling was becoming unbearable. You grasp the sheets, your teeth clench together as you grind out, “I’m telling you all, I need to push.”

Dr Lawrence shakes her head, “You have hours to go. I was going to have my student do your first look, is that okay?”

“Fuck, fine,” you cover your eyes with your hand. “I want an epidural. And soon.”

Dr Lawrence shakes her head, “We’ll let you labour for a while. It’ll only slow things down now.”

“Oh fuck me,” you murmur, pressing a hand to you eyes.

Bucky kisses the top of your head, “You’re doing great.”

Steve squeezes your other hand, “We just want what’s best, baby, it’ll be over before you know it.” You wanted to smack him in the face. No, the groin.

You life your legs into the stirrups as the student takes a look. You feel some pressure as they check your dilation and then, “Um, Dr Lawrence...”

Your head shoots up, “What’s wrong?”

Steve and Bucky are on either side of you, their hands tighten on yours.

Dr Lawrence practically shoved the student out of the way, “Let me see...” Her eyes widen, “Oh, you do need to push.”

You straighten, “What?”

She looks up at you from between your legs, “You’re ten centimetres dilated. I can see the first baby’s head. It’s coming right now.”

You frantically look between your boys, terror rocketing through you, “I want the epidural. Now.”

Dr Lawrence shakes her head, “oh, it’s too late for that now.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Bucky squeezes your hand, “You’ll be fine, baby.”

Steve leans forward to kiss your forehead, “You’ve got this, baby.”

“Oh the next contraction, you need to push,” Dr Lawrence commands.

Well fuck.

And you push. And push. And push.

You fall back against the bed. Gasping. Your whole body on fire.

“One more push!”

You wanted to shake your head, to turn away and cry. But the contraction built up and you screamed as you pushed. Hard.

And then the first baby is out. You grasp your boys hands to your chest as you wait for a cry. It’s too early, it’s only thirty-two weeks. You know that they might not cry, they might go straight to the ICU, but—

A wail fills the room.

You let go of their hands, desperately reaching for your baby.

“It’s a boy!” Dr Lawrence places the baby against your chest.

“Oh,” you gasp. “Hello.”

Your perfect, perfect baby boy. Who is still crying, but you wrap your arms around him, holding him close.

“Oh my god,” Bucky mumbles, reaching out to touch his cheek. His perfect little cheek.

Steve kisses the top of your head, “Good job, baby.”

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, you can feel your whole body trembling. The whole ordeal isn’t over, but he’s so perfect.

“I love you so much, Henry,” you murmur, as the nurse reaches out to take him from your arms.

“Okay, good job, y/n,” Dr Lawrence says, “One more to go.”

And you push. And push.

Nothing happens. This is harder than the first time. You collapse backward, gasping for air.

“Can we get some oxygen for her please,” Dr Lawrence’s voice cuts through the room, and a mask is fitted over your nose. “Okay, one more push.”

You push again. And again. And again. You flop against the bed. Your head is spinning, and no baby yet.

“Come on, one more push,” Steve kisses the top of your head.

You can only shake your head, you can’t even tell him you can’t. You can’t do this. Your body is failing you. The ones thing it is supposed to do, you can’t do.

“Damn it, prepare for a c-section,” Dr Lawrence calls out.

“What?” You hear Steve gasp.

“The last baby isn’t coming,” Dr Lawrence’s voice is beginning to sound very far away. “Y/n stats are dropping and so is the baby’s. We need to get the baby out now.”

Tags

@booktease21 @sexyvixen7 @just-the-hiddles @fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer @tazzi-baby @imaginebeinlovedbyme @amiets2 @prettyblueskylark @spookyparadisesheep @bloodbrink @holl2712 @navs-bhat @animegirlgeeky @fanofalltheficsx @obsssedwithjustaboutanything

#bucky barnes #stucky x pregnant!reader #steve x pregnant!reader #bucky x steve x reader #steve x reader #bucky x pregnant!reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #stucky #pregnant reader

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

Quidditch prodigy

Banner by awesome @the-dream-team.

Summary: This time, when she tells Harry he will be the new Seeker, Minerva McGonagall says: “Your father will be proud. He is an excellent player himself” (and Harry knows it’s true because he spent years watching his father fly).

For @alec-lightwood-bane, who asked for a bit of James getting to be proud with his Quidditch prodigy. The only plot here is fulfilling your request :)

Now on AO3.

________________

From the first time that Harry mounted the little broomstick that Sirius gave him for his first anniversary, James knew his son would be a Quidditch player (sometimes he’d tell Lily that he knew that ever since he felt Harry kicking inside her, but Lily tells him all babies kick; it was not a signal, no matter how at that moment James was talking about Quidditch).

He is not surprised when brooms are Harry’s favourite gifts and, as his godfather, Sirius is more than willing to replace his brooms as Harry grows up, until, finally, for his eleventh birthday, Harry gets a Nimbus 2000. It is his first professional broomstick and Harry can’t stop talking about it all day, promising he will be a Gryffindor player in no time, discussing with Sirius how unfair it is that First Years don’t get to have their own broom nor play in their house team.

That afternoon, after the sunset when the temperature gets milder, they play a kind of five-person Quidditch, which makes no sense and have no rules other than Sirius and Lily are a team, James and Harry is another, and everyone needs to score a goal against Remus, who is a moderately good Keeper.

Harry spends most of the time trying to learn how to ride the broom, so very different from the juvenile models he trained before, mostly intercepting the passes between his mother and Sirius than actually scoring goals. It’s not his son’s best performance, but James says nothing, only ruffling Harry’s hair and making it even more messy than flying already did it.

Harry flies well, naturally, but as a Chaser he always seemed to lack something. He works twice because of it, and James supports him.

The next morning, James awakes at dawn for no good reason. He plans to go downstairs only to drink some water before going back to bed and just laying there, but when he arrives at the kitchen, he finds the backdoor opened.

His wand is at ready at once, but it’s only Harry flying at dawn. He stops at the doorway, watching his son. He really flies perfectly — and boldly, he notices, training movements that James is sure he didn’t teach him and that Lily would have a fit if she saw, long dives that end with him recovering from it at the least possible moment, loops in the air that make him stand thirty feet in the air hanging on his broom only with one hand.

It is like watching him doing an extremely dangerous dance, and James makes sure his wand is ready, just in case, though he feels it’s not the first time Harry is doing this. It looks too well practiced for it.

And it’s not the usual Chaser movements either.

This thought comes for him at the same time that Harry picks up a Golden Snitch from his pocket. He closes his eyes and lets the Snitch fly away, waiting a few seconds until he opens his eyes and flies upward, standing very still fifty feet up, only his eyes moving, concentrated. James can’t see anything different, but after one minute, Harry dives suddenly. When he recovers from the flight, the Golden Snitch is secure in his hand, its wings flying pointless in his closed hand.

His laugh fills the silence of the morning.

When James starts applauding, Harry’s laugh dies. He turns to his father’s direction, his face reddening and a mortified expression arising there.

‘Dad — I — I can explain —’

It feels as if his son is confessing a sin, rather than showing his talents, and James doesn’t understand.

‘What?’

‘This, I —’

‘Well, I must admit I’m upset’, James says, his voice teasingly, but Harry doesn’t seem to notice this. ‘Next time, you should tell me’.

‘I didn’t want — I mean, this is just for fun, I don’t really —’

‘Flying without inviting me? I am so disappointed’.

Harry pauses, dismounting his broom and holding it unsurely. ‘You are not mad because I was playing Seeker?’

James blinks, confused. ‘Why should I? You are natural!’

Harry looks at his feet. ‘We always trained chasing. You are a Chaser’.

‘Yeah, I was, so?’

‘So I should be one. Like you. Everyone tells me I fly like you, and... I didn’t want to disappoint you’.

James shakes his head, baffled that Harry could come up with that conclusion. Well, there is only way to show him. ‘Mount your broom. Go on’.

Harry’s eyes are big, not understanding him, but he does as his father says. James keeps motioning for him to go up in the air and, when Harry is fairly high, he transforms the basket of apples in the kitchen into a basket of golf balls, going to the middle of their backyard.

Then he starts throwing one golf ball in the air after another, and Harry understands at once, flying around and catching each one before they fall in the ground, even when James throws more than one at a time. His son is rather breathless when he lands next to his father.

James can only beam. ‘See? You could never disappoint me’.

‘Even if I don’t try for a spot at the team as a Chaser?’

‘Any team will miss much more if you don’t play as Seeker’. Harry lets out a laugh that is undeniably relieved. James watches his son as they sit in the middle of the garden. ‘I mean it, Harry. Even if you didn’t play at all, I would never be disappointed with you’.

Harry raises his eyebrows, eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Even if I hated Quidditch?’

‘Well, you are right, then I would have to disinherit you’, he says seriously, but Harry’s chuckles in answer tells him that Harry understands his father is only joking. ‘Since when do you practice as a Seeker?’

Harry throws him a sideway look. ‘Two years now’, he says, smirking when James looks surprised. It’s not easy to hide anything from his parents, and yet Harry seemed to have perfected that. ‘Ever since I found this old Snitch in the attic’.

He picks up the Snitch again from his pocket. The Snitch tries to fly away, but when Harry hands it to James, the wings calm suddenly, the Snitch resting peacefully on his father’s hand.

‘Oh, what’s that?’

‘Flesh memories’, James explains, smiling. ‘This is the Snitch I nicked a long time ago at Hogwarts. It was never used before, so since I was the first to catch it…’

‘It remembers you’, Harry finishes, amazed.

‘And I remember it’, James murmurs, letting the Snitch fly and grabbing it easily. Even after all these years, his reflexes are still good, he thinks smugly. ‘I used to try to impress your mother with it, you know’.

‘Did it work?’

James runs his hand through his hair. ‘None at all. I hope you have better luck showing off with the Snitch than I did’.

______________________

Harry writes home twice a week at least, and every one of his letters mention how he misses flying and then that he at least is counting the days for the first flying lesson, so he can be in the air even for a little.

James expects his letter as usual the day after the flying lesson is scheduled, but instead he wakes up to find a grey owl waiting for him at breakfast, watching him severely. Only Minerva McGonagall would have an owl that looks as stern as her, but then again James always remembers how McGonagall’s patronus is herself, so he shouldn’t be so surprised.

What surprises him is her request that he comes to meet her as soon as possible that morning, informing the Floo Network to her office will be opened.

It seems serious and he can’t help but think of something happening to Harry. His son’s owl is nowhere at sight, though.

He scribbles a note to Lily informing he will be out for a chat with McGonagall — it shouldn’t be news to her since they met at least once a month to talk about the updates in the Transfigurations field — and quickly vanishes inside the green flames.

She is expecting him when he arrives, looking over a few scrolls.

‘James’, she says, the weirdest of the expressions on her face. She seems satisfied. ‘Have a seat’.

‘Hello, Professor’, he says, slipping into the old formality without even noticing. He usually meets her at the Three Broomsticks, rarely coming into her office. It always brings him memories of his years at school, and he almost expects to find the Head Boy badge pinned to his clothes.

‘You seem tense’, she notes, watching him over her glasses. ‘Take a biscuit’.

He does. Her biscuits are really tasty, but sitting in front of her, waiting for her to talk, makes him feel like he has just done a prank and is about to get a detention.

‘You must be wondering why I called you here’.

That makes him grin. Jokes were always his remedy to diffuse any situation. ‘I reckon you missed me’.

‘Hardly, when I see a copy of you everyday in the halls’, she replies easily, almost smiling. ‘Your son is less loud, though’.

‘Well, he did get a lot of Lily’.

‘Unfortunately not her disposition to follow rules’, Minerva notes, sipping her tea calmly.

‘Uh’, James hesitates, unsure. It’s not normal to call a parent for any misconduct (or else his parents would never leave McGonagall’s office), so if she called him here… ‘What happened?’

‘You know we have some rules that are stricter than others. For instance, this year the third floor corridor is absolutely forbidden’.

Years of ignoring rules make James want to ask what’s there, or else go discover for himself, but he just nods.

‘And one of the rules we always follow is to expressly forbid First Years of owning a broom’.

‘Hum’, he mumbles, still unsure. Harry knows that rule (he certainly complained a lot), and James is sure he saw the Nimbus 2000 waiting patiently in their broomshed, so he doesn’t get what’s her point.

‘Your son is bound to break that rule this year’.

‘He brought his broom?’, James asks before he can think through it, his mind trying to understand how Harry got to replace his broom with a fake copy so he could smuggle it to the castle. There is a mild impression, but if Harry did it, he would be in serious trouble…

‘No, not yet, I was hoping you could send it. He told me has a Nimbus 2000, is that correct?’

Feeling like he is missing the point still, James nods.

‘Good. If you could send it next week, it would be perfect. I am still getting the board’s signature of approval, but it’s only a formality, Albus already authorized it’.

‘Minerva’, he interrupts her. ‘What is happening?’

‘Oh’, she stops, looking simply delighted. ‘Yesterday during his first flying lesson, your son took to the skies after some silly gibbering with the Malfoy boy. As you may know, Rolanda is quite loud about how any First Year that flies unsupervised gets expelled. Or, well, a detention at least, but we don’t tell them that. First Years are so inclined to follow the rules… present company excepted, of course’.

James smiles guiltily now. But even he, desperate as he was to join the team, followed that rule at least. Madame Hooch really imposed fear.

‘What happened then?’

‘I saw him through my window’, Minerva tells him, pointing to the window next to her, that provides a nice view of the grounds. ‘Fifty-foot dive, recovered without a single scratch. Did you teach him that?’

James raises his eyebrows. ‘No, actually, he taught himself’.

‘Well, he is a natural, that I can’t deny. So I made him the new Seeker’.

‘Hum, what?’

‘Seeker’, she replies, not bothering to hide her smirk now. ‘I know you’ve been long gone from the Quidditch field, but you do remember what a Seeker is, I am sure’.

Later he will appreciate the fact that Minerva McGonagall is teasing him. For now there is only bewilderment.

‘But — seeker — no First Year — he must be the youngest Quidditch player in decades —’

‘A century, actually’, she corrects him. ‘I checked the records’.

‘That’s — that’s amazing! I am so —’, he stops, staring at her. ‘He broke a rule and you are awarding him?’

Minerva looks moderately embarrassed. ‘It’s not an award. I expect him to train harder to compensate for the years the other Seekers have of advantage, and if he doesn’t seem to take this seriously, I will reconsider not punishing him — oh, stop smirking, Potter’.

She looks suddenly stern again, but James can’t help himself.

‘You have a soft spot for him!’, he declares, grinning.

‘I certainly do not play favourites’, she answers, voice full of dignity. ‘I only think of what’s best for Gryffindor and —’, she drops all pretenses suddenly. ‘— you should have seen the try outs! Wood, that’s the captain, Oliver Wood, was crying at the end because no one was able to even find the Golden Snitch. And after last year…’ She shakes her head. ‘If it means we won’t get flatten out by Slytherin ever again — that annoying smirk on Snape’s face —, oh, well, I would buy your son a broom myself!’

James smiles proudly now. There was always a fanatical Quidditch enthusiast in Minerva and he adores when it shows. And from all he knows of Snape, he will hate the fact that James Potter’s son is in the team in his First Year, which is only a bonus (though that is a thing he won’t admit out loud).

‘No need. I will make sure he is dedicating himself, but knowing Harry, he is just too marvelled at being part of the team. It’s what he most wanted’.

She sighs, somberer now.

‘And that’s why I called you, actually. Considering your long history of disregarding rules, this Seeker position is not to mean that your son will get away with everything. I’d rather have him go through his school years without too many detentions’.

‘Only a few?’, James teases.

‘Let’s aim for one third of yours and I will call it a success. He is a Potter after all’.

James nods, trying for a serious expression that’s broken by the fact he can’t stop beaming. His son. First Year Seeker! He can’t wait until he tells Sirius.

‘Oh, I will talk to him’, he assures her. ‘We can’t let detentions get in the way of Quidditch’.

____________________

#eyes glistening #jily lives au #did i mention how jily lives au is a better world #everybody is happy #minerva mcgonagall has a soft spot for James Potter #no wonder she favours Harry too #James Potter #Harry Potter #Minerva McGonagall #Quidditch

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness…

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation… For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey...

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming.

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already!

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #thank y'all so so much #you're fantastic

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mommy-imagines · 3 years

Text

Pretty Boy - part. 5

Content: Mommy Kink. Sugar Mommy. MILF. Age-Play. Headspace. Diapers. Heavy Fluff.

Words: 3.717

“Mommy, gifts?” Atsumu asked her, voice excited and carrying laughter, “Mommy! Wake up, it’s Christmas!” She felt a gentle finger poking her cheek and slowly opened her eyes, immediately coming face to face with Atsumu’s bright eyes, much too alert for - She chanced a look at her phone, god! Much too alert for seven thirty in the morning.

“Baby, it’s very early, why are you up already?” She asked him, voice carrying sleepiness, arms encircling him and pulling him down and under the covers once more, he pouted at her and it made her laugh.

“Mommy, it’s Christmas, we can’t sleep in! What if Santa came?” He asked her very seriously, her eyes widened at his words and she took a moment to study him. His eyes were bright, alight with childish glee. He had clearly slipped much farther into his headspace than ever before. It made her happy to note it and it couldn’t have happened at a better time.

The previous night they had hosted Christmas Eve dinner for Atsumu’s family, so that was how she had met Atsumu’s mother and his grandmother and, thankfully, they had all gotten along splendidly and by the time that the evening was over, Atsumu was practically glowing. Both from happiness and from the single glass of wine that he had consumed. He hadn’t had anything alcoholic to drink ever since they had gotten together, but she figured that being Christmas and all, she could allow him to indulge a little bit; And she didn’t miss the surprised look that crossed his face once he realized her permission nor did she miss the small grimace that he tried very hard to hide every time that he took a sip.

She had to make a valiant effort to contain her amused laughter, it would appear that her baby was not used to those kind of drinks anymore; By the time that they were done with supper and dessert, his glass was still half full and he claimed to had eaten too much and thus couldn’t stomach anything else when Osamu questioned him about it. Well, Mommy wasn’t complaining. As far as she was concerned, it was better that way.

She blinked back to the present. Atsumu had busied himself by quietly talking to Toulouse and was largely ignoring the rest of the world. With his hair pointing at every direction, his flushed cheeks, and the telltale bulge between his legs, the flaps of his diaper peeking through the hem of his pajamas, he looked like the perfect little boy. It made her smile fondly at him.

He had no practice at all until the third week of January, more than enough time for him to enjoy his headspace for as long as he wanted to, she was curious to see how long it would last for.

Her thoughts strayed back to the nicely wrapped gifts downstairs, all but one waiting underneath the Christmas tree. She could barely wait to see his expression as he received it.

For the past three weeks, all that Atsumu could talk about was of how lonely Toulouse would get whenever Atsumu wasn’t home to keep him company and how much Toulouse would complain to Atsumu every night about being left on his own during the “whole entire day, Mommy!”.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Her baby complained, looking up at her with large hazel eyes and a cute little pout.

“You are?” She gasped, “Why, baby! Mommy is hungry too! How could you tell?” She exaggerated and he giggled in response. Her heart grew three sizes at the sound.

“It’s ‘cause I’m magic!” He proudly informed her and she gasped dramatically.

“No!” She suddenly lowered her voice, leaning forward, closer to his face, as one would do to share a secret, “What kind of magic, baby?”

“Like Aslan, Mommy!” Was the response and her expression was so fond that she was afraid that her face would be forever stuck that way.

They had watched all of the Chronicles of Narnia movies and Atsumu had been obsessed with Aslan from day one, saying how much of a good friend he would be to Toulouse. Now that she stopped to think about it, her baby definitely had a thing for felines. “Well baby, in that case, I can not possibly allow someone so powerful to go through the day without a nice, yummy breakfast, can I?” She tickled his tummy and he giggled.

Atsumu’s eyes turned mischievous, “What kind of breakfast, Mommy? ‘Cause it’s Christmas and I’m strong like Aslan, so it has to be a very special breakfast.” His voice was very serious and she played the part, pretending to be thinking it over.

“Well, how about some special pancakes then?” She looked at him as if proposing a business deal, “With chocolate chips and lots of strawberries?”

Atsumu seemed to be considering her offer before nodding solemnly, “Okay, Mommy;” He said, then his expression turned shy and his cheeks pinkened, he leaned his head up a little bit until his mouth was hovering over her ear, “Mommy, I had an accident.” He whispered and she hugged him tightly, pressing a big kiss to his cheek that made him giggle happily.

“Well, Mommy will change you right up, then we can brush our teeth and go downstairs so Mommy can make us some breakfast,”

“Can we stay in our jammies, Mommy?” He asked, looking up at her, eyes full of innocence.

She surprised herself with how easily she told him yes. Before Atsumu, she would never even consider the idea of going about her day, even if just staying at home, without being properly dressed. She supposed that it couldn’t hurt, they weren’t meeting anyone for the entire day, in fact, there had been a huge blizzard, so all roads were closed. “Of course we can, little one; It’s Christmas, after all,”

So Mommy got up, groaned playfully as she stood, dragging a gleeful giggle from Atsumu; “Lay back down, baby; So Mommy can change you,” She told him with an amused smile when he stood on his knees, crawling to the end of the bed, “What are you doing, little one?” She asked him with a gentle laugh when he surged forward and wrapped his arms around her middle, “What is it, baby?” She asked, hand cupping the back of his neck and cheek pressed against the top of his messy hair.

“Love you, Mommy,” He said, voice full of innocence, as he looked up at her; She felt her eyes prickling with tears, was surprised to feel it, too; She couldn’t remember the last time that she had felt so at peace. Being on the receiving end of such an intense stare, it tugged at her heartstrings. She smiled down at him and pecked his nose, he wrinkled it as a response and she chuckled at him.

“Mommy loves you too, baby;” She finally responded.

They stayed like that for a couple of moments until Atsumu started to wriggle, complaining about his wet diaper, so she arranged him on the bed and changed him, tickling his tummy to make him laugh when he whined at the cold wipes. Once he was properly dressed again, she guided him to the adjoined bathroom so that they both could brush their teeth and then was guiding him out of the room, “Mommy, wait!” He suddenly stopped by the doorway, eyes wide and looking around frantically, she didn’t have the time to become worried, because then he was running back to the bed, searching the covers and walking back to her side with Toulouse firmly held close to his chest.

“All set, darling?” She asked, a smile as fond as it always was when it came to Atsumu. He nodded at her solemnly.

“I’ve told you, Mommy; Toulouse gets lonely when he’s not with me,”

“Well then, baby;” She ruffled his hair and picked his hand, intertwining their fingers and guiding him along the hallway and down the stairs, “Mommy will just have to figure out a way so Toulouse will have a friend, don’t you think?”

Atsumu hummed, as if considering her words very seriously, walking down the steps carefully, one hand firmly held by Mommy and the other holding his friend, “I think so, Mommy; I don’t like it when he’s sad,” He pouted and she couldn’t resist pinching his cheek and pressing a kiss to it.

They got to the main kitchen and Atsumu promptly sat down on one of the stools by the marble island while she brought out the ingredients.

She kept one eye on him at all times, but mostly left him be; As she mixed the batter and cut the strawberries, Atsumu was in his own little world, he had placed Toulouse on top of the island, in front of him, and was telling him a very detailed story about his last horseback riding lesson, something about how much he liked Leia, because the mare never moved fast enough to scare him and how she always let him feed her, “Alright, little one; Why don’t we sit Toulouse on his own stool so we can eat breakfast? We can eat it here, I think; No need to move everything to the breakfast room.”

“Okay, Mommy!” Atsumu told her easily, smiled as bright as the sun, and carefully placed the stuffed jackal on the stool next to him.

She cut his pancakes in small squares and placed a small bowl with strawberries beside the plate. It was the first time that Atsumu had gone so deep in his headspace, the other times were always right before bedtime, mostly when he was nursing after having a particularly long day; She wasn’t exactly sure about how young he felt, but she surmised that it would be changing during the day.

As she sat down in front of him, nursing her cup of coffee, she watched as he picked the squares with the tip of his long fingers, carefully selecting the ones that had the most chocolate chips to it., “Baby, slow down a bit, your food is not going to run away,” She reprimanded him softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I’m sorry, Mommy;” He said, suddenly sheepish, but he was smiling as well, “I’m just excited for the gifts!” He told her, eyes bright but face almost bashful.

“Well, baby,” She started, picking up a cloth napkin and wetting the corner of it and then leaning forward to wipe his chin and the corners of his mouth, “Your gifts aren’t going away either, so there’s no reason to rush, Mommy doesn’t want her baby to choke,”

Atsumu nodded sweetly at her and then his movements turned deliberately slow as he picked the next piece of pancake and she had to stifle a laugh when he missed his mouth, much too busy with telling Toulouse why was it that they were talking about gifts and explaining that today was Christmas day.

They finished breakfast soon after and she was pretty sure that Atsumu had gotten more chocolate sauce on his cheeks and his chin than inside of his mouth, the boy whining and struggling to sit still as she wiped his face and his hands clean.

Once they were done, with the dirty dishes already inside the dishwasher, she extended her hand so that he could grab it and hop down the stool. She grabbed her newly topped coffee cup and guided him to the main living room, where they had placed the biggest Christmas tree.

There was another tree on the entrance hall, delicately decorated with ornate glass baubles, but she liked this one better - If only because the two of them had decorated it together and she smiled fondly at the memory of that day (Atsumu had snuck up behind her and picked her up suddenly, telling her very seriously that Mommy should be the one to place the star).

She looked to the boy at her side and, sure enough, Atsumu was vibrating in place, eyes scanning the truly immense amount of nicely wrapped gifts underneath the Christmas tree. (She was very grateful for the high ceilings of her Estate, because when they went to pick the tree, Atsumu had decided that his favorite tree out of all of the others was a 50ft tree and, honestly, she could never say no to his pleading look, not when he was all bundled up and with his face all pink from the cold, eyes barely peeking through his winter hat.).

She started the fireplace and walked to the corner of the room, coming back with a blanket, which she folded in half and placed on the floor near the tree. The house was warm, thanks to the excellent heating system, and the marble floors were heated as well, but still, she was not allowing her baby to sit directly on the floor.

She sat down on an armchair by his side and pulled her silk robe tighter around her body, “Okay, baby;” She started, smiling down at him. Atsumu’s face was decorated with a bright smile, “Why don’t you start with this one then?” She handed him a rectangular gift with a big purple bow on top.

He nodded happily and reached for the box, she watched as he took his time to unwrap it, carefully undoing the bow and mindful as to not tear the wrapping. Her smile widened as she took in his slack-jawed expression as he saw the contents inside of the box, “Mommy! Thank you!” He jumped forward and gave her a hug, with just enough warning for her to place down her coffee cup on the nearby side table.

Atsumu had been too shy to ask for it, but she had overheard him talking to Bokuto about how cool he thought the new PS5 was, “You are very welcome, baby;” She told him, kissing the top of his blonde hair, “Why don’t you pick the next one?”

So it went, with each unwrapped gift, she found herself with an armful of 6’3’ smiling volleyball setter, she finally gave up on her coffee and just let it be forgotten by her side.

Atsumu gasped with every gift. By the end of it, the large living room was a mess of colorful wrapping and bows and a litany of gifts - the new PS5, a variety of games to go with it (nothing too violent, Atsumu had gone to a boys’ night at Sakusa’s with Bokuto, Osamu and Hinata and they had played something called Resident Evil, the poor boy had had nightmares for almost a month and still couldn’t sleep without a night light); a collection of Nike’s top of the line sneakers that hadn’t been launched yet, but that she had managed to buy because the CEO owed her a couple of favors; a limited edition Rolex; a new laptop and a new phone; some toys and some books.

“Mommy, thank you so much!” He told her, setting his new iPhone to the side and crawling until he was in front of her, he stood on his knees and started playing with her fingers, “Mommy, those were a lot of gifts, didn’t have to buy ‘Tsumu so many gifts,'' His voice was small and his eyes had dimmed a little bit.

That just wouldn’t do, “Baby, Mommy wants to buy you all of the nicest things in the world!” She told him, purposefully making her voice sound over the top so that he would smile at her again.

“But Mommy,” He started and she cut him off. Leaning forward and kissing his forehead, hand smoothing his hair back and away from his face.

“Baby, Mommy will always buy you pretty things, Mommy loves you very much and Mommy loves to spoil you,” She told him, eyes serious and he bit his lower lip, as if pondering her words, before giving a soft sigh and nodding slightly, “Now, little one;” She started once more, “Mommy wants you to sit right there,” She pointed to his previously occupied spot on the dark blue faux-fur blanket on the floor, “And Mommy wants you to close your eyes, no peeking!” She directed and he looked at her questionly before doing as told.

She gave a playful pinch to his padded bottom as he crawled away from her and he squeaked in response, making her laugh, “Mommy will be right back! Eyes closed, remember!”

She laughed at his attempt to contain his enthusiasm and walked out of the room and to her study, quickly retrieving the box that she had set aside and returning to her waiting boy, “Are your eyes closed, little one?”

“Yes, Mommy!” He giggled sweetly.

“Okay then!” She said, placing the large baby blue box in front of him and sitting down once more. “Alright baby, open up,” As soon as she had finished saying the words, his eyes were popping open and instantly zeroed on the box in front of him, he looked up at her in confusion, “Well baby, go on!” She instructed and he tentatively poked the large silver bow on top of the lid.

Atsumu suddenly gasped, “Mommy, it moved!” He looked up at her with wide eyes and she couldn’t contain her laughter at his astonished expression.

“Really?” She gasped right back, voice full of laughter, “Then you better see what’s inside, don’t you think?”

Atsumu bit his lower lip again and hesitantly lifted the lid, as soon as he did, he was gasping wetly and looking up at her with surprised eyes full of tears, his cheeks were flushed pink and his mouth was open slightly in surprise, “Mommy! Is this really for me?” He asked, voice cautiously joyful.

Her tone was gentle as she replied, “Of course it is, baby;”

Atsumu sniffed and then slowly reached his hands inside to pick up the small kitten that was peering up at him with curious eyes, “Pretty!” Atsumu mumbled, the small Ashera kitten almost disappearing where she was being held by his large hands, “Is it a boy or a girl, Mommy?”

“She’s a girl, darling, Mommy was feeling a little bit lonely with so many boys in the house!” She teased him, and Atsumu gave her a cheeky smile, Toulouse placed at his side, “You need to pick a name for her;”

Atsumu tilted his head, studying the small kitten and giggling with delight when she gave him a tiny meow, followed by a small purr as he scratched behind her ears, “I don’t know, Mommy; You choose!” He finally gave up.

“Me, baby?”

“Yes,” He nodded very seriously, “I got to pick Toulouse’s name, ‘cause we’re both boys, now you pick her name, ‘cause you’re both girls!” He rationalized and she indulged him with a fond grin.

“Okay, baby;” She nodded, “I guess that I’ve always liked the name Ophelia,” She said after thinking for a moment, “What do you think?”

Atsumu’s eyes lit up once more, “I love it, Mommy!” He declared and she laughed.

“I’m glad, baby! Mommy will ask the jeweler to put her name on a tag for her collar tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded happily and then promptly ignored her altogether in favor of introducing Ophelia to Toulouse, informing the small kitten that they would be best friends and that she could keep Toulouse company when he was away for practice.

She shook her head in fond amusement, took a sip of her coffee and immediately grimaced at the cold beverage.

/*/

“Are you getting tired, baby?” Mommy asked him once Atsumu yawned for the third time, his eyes were fixed to the TV where Winnie the Pooh was playing. They had just finished having lunch and were back in the main living room.

She had made quick work of discarding the wrapping and organizing Atsumu’s gifts in neat piles. She looked down at the boy resting against her, he looked on the verge of dozing off.

She supposed that he could have his nap in the living room; The sofa had been custom made to be on the larger side and Atsumu looked pretty cozy.

Outside the sky was gray, the blizzard had come back in full force, but Mommy and Atsumu were safe inside their warm home. She had dimmed the lights in the hopes of easing the little boy into a nap and it seemed to be working, the warmth of the fireplace helping her endeavour. While she had made a quick trip to the bedroom to change into proper clothes, she had allowed Atsumu to remain on his pajamas and the combination of messy hair with his flushed cheeks, light blue pacifier bobbing softly between his lips and the top of his recently changed diaper just peeking through over the hem of his pants, he looked absolutely precious. “Mommy,” Atsumu whispered, eyes dropping.

She looked down at him. Her baby had his head pillowed by her legs, Toulouse held closely to his own chest, socked feet tucked underneath him; She smiled softly and reached behind her for the plush faux fur white throw blanket that she had bought especially for her baby, she covered him with the blanket and smoothed his hair away from his face, “Yes, baby?”

Atsumu gave her a soft little sigh in response, giggled sleepily when Ophelia snuggled close to his chest, “Hi, kitty,” He whispered, words slurred from sleep and because of the soother between his lips, “Mommy, stay?” He asked her, drowsy eyes staring up at her with unadulterated trust.

One of his hands was clutching Toulouse and the other he had curled into a loose fist as he gripped her shirt, Ophelia nestled herself on the crook of his neck, “Of course, baby,” She answered him, fingers deftly carding through his soft hair, “Mommy will always stay;” She smiled gently at him, his eyes nearly closing, “You can go to sleep now, little one; Mommy’ll watch over you and Mommy will be right here when you wake up.”

Atsumu sighed softly again, his next words were barely comprehensible, “I know that, Mommy; Lov’you.” He slurred and, before she could answer him, he was already fast asleep.

“Mommy loves you, too.” She said, just in case.

#mommy.writes #atsumu miya #sub atsumu #atsumu imagines #md/lb #mommy kink #haikyuu!!#hq #hq atsumu

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bloobeary · 3 years

Text

The hallway light is off when he gets home, but the one over the stove was on. Bucky knows that Steve did it on purpose so that Bucky wouldn’t have to stumble around inside in the middle of the night. It makes his heart stutter in his chest no matter how many times he sees it. So sweet, that guy of his. He’ll buy Steve some flowers, and make him breakfast and kiss him stupid tomorrow.

He toes off his boots at the door, and sets his bag down on the couch, that way it won’t make as much noise. There’s a few hours of night left before the sun starts to come up, a few hours before Steve peels himself out of bed and heads out for a run.

He’s asleep now, Bucky notices from where he creeps in through the bedroom door, arms around Bucky’s pillow, sheets around his hips. He’s even wearing one of Bucky’s old t-shirts, one that he’s sure he tossed in the hamper before he left. His mouth is a little open, and his hair is going every which way, and Bucky loves him so much it hurts to breathe.

He’s not around enough-- he knows this. Not that it’s on purpose, or Steve would ever hold it against him, but Bucky knows he misses him when he’s gone, just like Bucky misses Steve when he’s gone, too. But Steve gets all quiet and sad about it, mopes around like a droopy flower until Bucky gets home and refuses to admit that it’s hard on him. Usually, it doesn’t take much more than Bucky gluing himself to Steve like a burr to a sock for his smile to reach his eyes again, but Bucky’s not stupid. Plus, Natasha tattles.

Steve goes on ops just as much, ex-Captain America doesn’t get sidelined just because he changed uniforms, so Bucky doesn’t sleep much when Steve’s not around. He sits in bed staring at the ceiling until he can’t take it anymore. Things get fixed when Steve’s gone. Not that any of them are the ones that need to be fixed, but Bucky just needs something to do with his hands. He wonders if Natasha tells on him, too. They’re real pieces of work, two peas in one fucked up pod. They’re figuring it out.

The truth is they work too much, both of them. In and out of the house like it’ll hold them hostage if they stay for too long. Retirement comes up every so often, but even though Steve doesn’t carry the shield anymore, and Bucky’s not the Winter Soldier, they never get around to it. They’ve got too much time coiled in their bones to sit still, he thinks.

Really, Bucky doesn’t trust himself to ever leave if he gets used to being around Steve all the time. It’s hard enough leaving after they’ve got one day off together, Bucky can’t figure what it’d be like to take any actual amount of time off. After the helicarriers and everything else, Steve grabbed Bucky by the shoulders and said dont ever disappear on me again. Bucky shares the feeling. He thinks if they were to retire, officially and on paper, he’d never let Steve out of his sight again. That such a bad thing? He hears it in Steve’s voice, though he’ll never say it, not like that at least.

Bucky undresses quickly, quietly, on his side of the bed, back to the window so he can watch Steve sleep, make sure he doesn’t wake him up. He should shower, really--there’s dried sweat and what feels like a layer of grime caked onto his skin, even though he washed off the dried blood somewhat unceremoniously before debrief and he stinks. He should shower, but that would add ten minutes between him and Steve. It’s a selfish, unhygienic thought, but one he has anyways.

Steve takes a deep breath and stirs a little, and Bucky goes still, holds his breath until he settles again, face tucked into the pillow. Bucky’s heart feels too big for his body, then, and he decides that a shower can wait. He’ll change the sheets the next morning, as penance.

He crawls into his side of the bed, and wraps his arms around Steve’s middle, tucking his face into the rise of his neck and taking a breath. He smells clean and warm and a little like lavender--something about some fancy lotion he bought recently, his brain supplies-- he smells like home.

Bucky hopes a little distractedly that Steve will wake up on his own. He wants a kiss or a thousand and his heart yearns for Steve’s smile, but he also knows that once Steve’s up, he’s up. Bucky’s been jealous of him forever. How the hell can you get out of bed at three in the morning and be ready to go without so much as a cup of coffee? Standing there all chipper, eyes a little tired but bright nonetheless while the rest of the Howlies scraped themselves off the dirt trying to find some sort of energy. He could blame the serum, but the truth is he’s always been like that, even when he was too sick to stand. It’s absurd, is what it is. Bucky takes a breath and presses his lips to the back of Steve’s shoulder.

Steve doesn’t wake up quite, but he does lean back against Bucky’s chest, warm. It’s not a kiss, but it’ll do.

Not such a bad thing at all.

“Buck?” Steve asks sleepily, a few hours later, once the sun is filtering in through the blinds. He yawns and stretches a little. Bucky doesn’t even have to look at the clock to know that it's six-thirty on the dot. “When’d you come home?”

“Few hours ago.” He mumbles, and he feels Steve turn in his arms, and put a hand on his chest right over his heart. Bucky opens his eyes. The fine smatter of freckles over Steve’s nose greet him, and he can’t help but smile. “I love you,” He says, sincere, and Steve smiles, finally. Nearly a century’s worth of hearing it, and it still makes him blush. Some primal part of Bucky's ego swells with that. If he were anywhere near half awake he's probably puff his chest out like a fucking rooster or something equally stupid.

“Aw hell,” He says, laughing a little at himself before leaning forward to give Bucky a quick kiss. “I missed you. You okay?”

Bucky nods and holds Steve tighter, closer. “You gonna go run?”

Steve thinks about it, at least he pretends to. “No,” Steve says finally, simple as that. Bucky kisses him again.

Bucky could sleep another ten hours, and Steve’s liable to let him, even if he himself won’t. Steve puts a hand in Bucky’s hair and scratches at his scalp softly; it feels good, but Bucky makes a face, cause it’s dirty and greasy, and he really needs that shower. “What?”

Bucky shrugs. “I need a shower.” He says but makes no move to get up. “I stink.”

“You don’t.”

“Liar,” Bucky says, and then has to yawn right through it. “Don’t let me keep you if you got things to do.” He mumbles, resting his head against Steve’s collarbone.

It's mostly just so Steve doesn’t think he has to waste his day next to his exhausted and frankly quite dirty boyfriend. Not that said boyfriend will complain about lazing in bed all day next to him. In fact, that’s at the top of his things to do today list. He’s so warm and soft and right there. Bucky slides his hands up under Steve’s shirt, pressing them against his back. Bucky feels like he’s made of silly putty.

“Ain’t a damn thing in the world that’s more important than you,” Steve says, says it in the way he gets sometimes, all serious like he’s under oath or something. Bucky bites him and then kisses right over it.

“We work too much,” Bucky mumbles, feeling himself fall back into that syrupy sleep state. His hand is still in Bucky’s hair. He yawns again, and Steve smiles, kisses his nose. “Should take a vacation.”

“Should retire.” Steve one-ups him.

It’s a joke, kind of. Only it’s not.

“Yeah, we should,” Bucky says. He means it. He means it this time. “Sit on the porch and read the newspaper, and then fuck like married people at the end of the day,” Bucky says, and Steve laughs. He yawns again, and Steve says something, maybe, but he doesn’t quite catch it.

“Did you mean it?” Steve asks later, much later, when the sun’s going down again and they’ve both showered. He’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, holding a cooling mug of tea in one hand, sketchbook open but untouched on his lap.

“Mean what?” Bucky asks, looking up from his phone. He pokes his socked foot into Steve’s hip when he doesn’t get an answer. “Hey,” He says, frowning a little. Steve won’t look at him, embarrassed for whatever reason. “Come here.” He asks, and Steve dutifully sets his cup down and snaps his sketchbook closed before scooching over to sit near Bucky. He throws an arm around his shoulders and manhandles him around, a little so that he’s sitting up against Bucky’s chest.

“Mean what, baby?” Bucky asks again.

Steve shrugs, and then sighs. He turns to look at him. “That we should retire.”

Bucky blinks and then thinks about it. He could do without shipping out every couple of days, he’s getting old, after all. They both are, technically, but Steve wears it better. Probably because he did all his sleeping in one go. Even then, Bucky’s a year older, so he has well earned the right to complain, thank you very much.

“Yeah.” He says, and it surprises both of them. Steve turns to look at him, eyes wide, mouth half caught on a smile like he’s not sure he should yet. “You?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I think… I think I did.” He says, and then a smile curls onto his face. Bucky laughs at him, for good measure, and Steve kisses him. “I miss you, you know.”

“Aw, babe,” Bucky teases, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder and hugging him close.

“Oh, Lord.” Steve chuckles and tries to squirm away, but it’s half-hearted, and Bucky’s got too good of a grip on him for it to work. “You miss me?”

“Course I fucking miss you,” Bucky says, honest, and Steve surprises him by grabbing him by the chin and kissing him. The angle is a little weird, but it doesn’t matter.

“So what now, huh?” Steve asks, and Bucky shrugs.

“Sit on the porch,” Bucky suggests, and Steve snorts.

“We ain’t got a porch.”

“I’ll get you a house with a porch that wraps all the way around it, like in that movie you made me watch,” Bucky says, and Steve laughs.

“The Notebook?”

“Sure.” Bucky says, not sure himself of the name but he does know that the end made him get a little teary-eyed, and Steve full-on cried, like snot-bubble cried, and they didn't let go of each other for the rest of the day. Not a very comedic romantic comedy.

“Yeah, and what else?" Steve asks, still half-joking. "Could we get a dog?"

Bucky thinks about it, thinks about how somewhere in the middle of Europe they found a stray litter of puppies, how Steve carried three of them zipped in the front of his jacket until they found the nearest inhabited town, how he tried to hide how upset he really was when they had to leave. Bucky takes a good long look at him, how there's still a light dusting of blush on his cheeks, and puts a hand on his face.

“Whatever you want, doll.” Bucky says, and he means it.

#something short and sweet #stucky #fic #canon? i barely know her #drabble #stevebucky #you can read her on ao3 too

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