#I mean he tells dad jokes all day every day anyway

[singmyaubade]

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."

She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."

You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."

You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.

"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."

Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.

You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.

And then you got a letter from him saying,

Dear Y/n,

Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?

Sincerely,

Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.

You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."

"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"

You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.

She shook her head, "Be safe!"

You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.

You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.

When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.

Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.

But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.

But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.

You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.

Compartment 222.

It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.

You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"

They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.

"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.

You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"

You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.

Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"

"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.

"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.

"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."

You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.

"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.

Your mouth agape, "Lily."

"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.

"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.

"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."

The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.

You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.

"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.

"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"

"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.

You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.

"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.

"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."

"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.

"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.

"Give him hell."

"So do it." She said.

They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.

And you had to start not caring about him.

"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.

Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.

Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.

Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.

You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.

You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.

He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.

"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.

"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.

"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.

"He insisted," Remus shrugged.

"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.

"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.

Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.

"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.

"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.

"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.

Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"

"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.

"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.

Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"

Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"

Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.

"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.

"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.

"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.

You could already tell it was going to be a long year.

After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.

You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.

"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.

"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.

You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.

"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.

When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.

You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.

"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.

You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.

"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.

"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."

You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.

"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.

You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."

He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."

Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.

"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"

He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.

For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.

His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.

Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.

You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.

You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.

Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.

What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?

It was stupid and pathetic.

You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.

So you did.

You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.

You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.

You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.

You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.

You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.

You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.

The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.

They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.

You never considered yourself a liar.

The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.

You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.

You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.

You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.

"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."

You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.

"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.

"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.

He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.

"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.

You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.

"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.

"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.

"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.

"Meadows on a date with me."

You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."

"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.

"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"

"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.

"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.

Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.

You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.

You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.

"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.

"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.

You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.

"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."

"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.

Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.

Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.

Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.

This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.

"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.

Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.

You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.

James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.

"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.

He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.

"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.

"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.

You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"

He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.

"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.

"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.

He didn't stop.

"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.

His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.

Did you really win?

A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.

taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26

#james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #hp #hogwarts #harry potter #singmyaubade #tw mature #toxic!james #toxic!reader #james potter x you #marauders x reader #marauders #james potter smut #james potter x female!reader #harry potter marauders #the marauders #marauders imagine #marauders smut #lily evans #remus lupin #sirius black #y/n l/n #y/n moment #peter pettigrew #james & peter & remus & sirius #marauders fandom #dead gay wizards #marlene mckinnon

[lovebugism]

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face. 

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand. 

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands. 

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch. 

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later. 

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown. 

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her. 

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices. 

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh. 

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life. 

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking. 

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go. 

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place. 

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year. 

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

[macfrog]

ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten

hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.

However.

If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.

Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.

You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.

Can’t have it all, I guess.

Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.

You: Merry Christmas!!!

You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.

You: As in, today’s the day

You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas

You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day

You: Never mind

“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”

You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”

The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.

“Ain’t your dress yellow?”

Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”

“Pink does say rodeo.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”

“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”

“You’re so boring.”

“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”

Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.

“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”

Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”

“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”

“Tell your dad I say hey!”

You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.

“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”

As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.

Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.

“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.

“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”

He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.

Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.

Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.

“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”

You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.

“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.

You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”

“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”

Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.

The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.

“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.

“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.

“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”

“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”

Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”

“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.

“Is he, now?”

“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”

You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.

“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”

Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”

“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.

“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.

----------

Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.

“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”

You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.

Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.

Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.

Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.

You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –

You: Good luck??

He replies almost instantly.

Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?

Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.

Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.

You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?

And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?

Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.

“Another?”

They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.

You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.

“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”

You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.

“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.

“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”

“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.

As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.

“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.

“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.

He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.

“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.

“He smells like he’s having a good night.”

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.

“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”

“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.

“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”

Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”

“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”

“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”

“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”

“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”

Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”

Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.

You: What you doing?

Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?

You: What ya watvhin ?

Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.

You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.

You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please

Bored, horny. It all means the same.

Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.

“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.

Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.

Joel: Outside. No rush.

That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.

“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”

“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”

You nod. “Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”

“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”

She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.

“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.

You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”

“Can he take me home, too?”

Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”

She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.

“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”

Anna pouts. “One more drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.

“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.

“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.

“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”

“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”

“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”

You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”

You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.

Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –

“Who’s that kid?”

“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”

“He give you trouble?”

“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”

Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.

“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”

When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.

His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.

“Want you to take me home.”

“’s go, pretty girl.”

----------

Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.

“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.

He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”

“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”

He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”

“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”

“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”

“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”

Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.

“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.

Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…

“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”

Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.

“That’s Meredith! When she–”

“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”

“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”

“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”

“We can watch it from the beginning.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.

Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”

“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.

“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.

“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.

You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.

You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.

“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.

His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.

He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.

You giggle.

“You laughin’ at me?”

“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”

“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”

“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.

“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”

“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.

He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.

“The cutest.”

“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”

He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.

You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.

And something inside you ticks.

“Joel?”

He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.

“Mhm?”

You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.

He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.

His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.

“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.

“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.

You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.

But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?

Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?

“I…was just wondering…”

“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.

You grow more desperate.

“…wondering what your body count is?”

You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.

“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.

“I wanna know.”

He ignores you.

“Joel,” you moan.

He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”

In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.

“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.

You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.

“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.

He’s hard.

Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.

“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.

“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”

“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”

His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”

“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”

“No?”

“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”

“Funny.” He closes his eyes.

“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”

You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.

“I wanna ride you, daddy.”

This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.

“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”

You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.

You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.

Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.

Well, you’ll be screaming either way.

You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.

“Go on,” he whispers.

Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.

“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.

You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.

Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.

“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”

You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”

“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”

“So just pull out?”

“Nope.”

You sigh, frustrated.

Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.

So, you do.

You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.

“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.

He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.

His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”

You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.

You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.

Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.

He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.

Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.

So, you decide to draw them from him.

You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”

“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”

“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”

You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.

You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.

Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.

“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”

“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”

“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”

Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.

Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.

“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”

That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.

When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.

But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.

“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”

“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”

You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.

You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.

“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”

When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.

Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.

But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand.

His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.

“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.

You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.

The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.

“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.

When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.

You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.

Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.

You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.

“Fuck, darlin’.”

You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”

“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.

You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.

Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.

You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.

You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.

“Feel nice?” he whispers.

You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.

He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.

You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.

“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.

You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.

“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.

You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”

Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.

“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.

“Hm.”

“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.

Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”

“Oh really? What am I, then?”

“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”

You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.

You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.

His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.

“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.

You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”

“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”

Oh.

He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.

He’s telling you because you matter to him.

You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.

----------

taglist: @yvonneeeee @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt @huffle-punk @unbotheredbeeeee @iluvurfather @wildcat116 @godisawomansblog @55vvaa55 @koshkaj-blog @initforthebooks @theywhowriteandknowthings @thatgirljayy@sasakipsposts @casa-boiardi @milla-frenchy @aim-formyheart @taeslarityy @lxstbxyscave23 @joelmillerxapologist @capt-rex @giixo @capricorngf @feministfanboi @fifia-writes @darleneslane @theplumsoldier @sharp-cheekbones-locked @suzmagine @endlessthxxghts @ivebeenflagged @blognametakenn @jessahmewren @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @ranahx @pedropascalsbbg @cartoon-garbage04 @caatheeriinee07 @kngslayr @hopplessilse @vickywallace @gracieispunk @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dad's best friend #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller pedro pascal #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #cowboy like me

[lowkeyremi]

Haikyuu men as fathers pt 2.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Ft. Kuroo, Tendou, Atsumu, and Tsukki.

Decided instead of babies I wanted to do slightly older kids! :)

CW: Indication of pregnancy, relationships, marriage and some angst for tsukki’s

Enjoy lovelies <33

…………….

Kuroo Tetsuro:

“Nap time! If my two munchkins don’t go to take a nap, the nap time monster will come out!” He hears little playful shrieks from his son and daughter.

“But Daddy, I don’t want to!” His daughter whines. A soft smile arose on his face as he bent down to his 6 year old daughter’s level. “Mommy will get mad at me if you little nuggets don’t go lay down.” Kuroo covers his eyes and pretends to cry. His son comes out of nowhere and starts trying to comfort him. “Don’t cry daddy! Umiko and me will go lay down! Come on sissy, we don’t want daddy to cry anymore.” 6 year old Shinji drags his twin sister to their room.

As soon as he’s sure they’ve turned the corner a lopsided grin appears on his face, “works every time.”

He is a dad boss no questions asked

You need a break from the kids? He’ll take them to the park and get all their energy out

For the first couple of months of their lives you would have to drag Kuroo out of their room because his 6’2” ass would get in the crib and sleep with his babies

He DEFINITELY took some time off of work to be there for you and the babies

He always makes corny dad jokes (most likely about science) “Why are chemists excellent for solving problems?” …. “They have all the solutions.”

omg he thinks his jokes are so fucking funny too (his kids learn the hyena laugh 🤦🏽‍♀️)

Whenever you’re away he always sends pictures of what he and the kids are up to.

idgaf abt what you say, that man can COOK

Tendou Satori:

“You can’t tell mom I let you have chocolate before dinner, ‘kay?” He looks into his 9 year old daughter’s eyes waiting for her response.

“It’s our little secret!” She giggles and man is laughing contagious because Tendou starts to laugh too. You were working a little later than usual so Tendou picked up Mayumi even though it wasn’t his day to do so. “What do you want for dinner, May?”

Her eyes widen at the statement. Which tells Tendou a WHOLE lot “Dad’s cooking?!” She asks not because she’s excited but because she’s scared for her life. Tendou may be a chocolatier but this man is not a very good cook unless it’s pasta.

“Nah, we’re gonna stop and get dinner before we go home. Dad’s gotta close shop though, so I thought I’d ask so we can order.”

She hops off the counter and does a cute little dance. I mean.. it’s in her genes. “You’re the best, Dad!”

He shakes his head with a smile, “oh I try!”

SO PROTECTIVE

The second he finds out someone was messing with his baby, he called the teacher and talked things out with her

He is a sucker for spoiling, you often scold him for it but he still does it anyway

He SINGS HIS DAUGHTER TO SLEEP>>>>>

He is the “ouchie” police, his daughter would always giggle but anytime she stubbed her toe on a chair or something he’d start talking to whatever caused his little girl pain and start scolding it (he knows it makes her feel better)

NOT a cook please he will burn the place by accident

Definitely ruined some intimate moments because instead of walking baby girl back to bed he gets dressed and offers to let her cuddle with you guys in the bed (after changing sheets ofc) (he wants his little girl to feel loved)

When she was a baby he’d call you every hour while he was at work to make sure you and the baby are okay

He almost passed out when the school called saying Mayumi broke her leg

He rushed her to the hospital so fast “dw baby, daddy’s here for you.” “I know it hurts princess.”

He went around interrogating the kids in her class thinking one of them pushed her, he was shocked to find out she climbed to the top of the playground and jumped off of it 😭

Definitely got his daughter obsessed with frogs

Miya Atsumu:

“Mama’s gonna kill us! What’s yer last words?” He says in slight shock. His sons start crying thinking that you were actually gonna kill them.

“Not literally boys! Just… this mess- oh jeez.” He looks around bubbles and soap all over the floor.

Atsumu told the twins to ‘be good and color ‘til papa’s done in the shower’ and he came back to this. Dawn dish soap all over the floor and bubbles galore.

The cherry on top had to be that the dog was soaking in mixed berry juice because five year old Kosuke tried to pour himself a cup of juice.

“Alright! C’mon boys, we gotta tidy up before mama gets home!” You would be home in 2 hours…

They cleaned up the bubble mess, after being distracted like 10 times and having a few bubble fights.

Next was giving the twins a bath. Which proved to be harder than it needed to be. Kosuke was mad at Kensuke because he kept showing him his butt. Honestly, Atsumu had to keep himself from laughing.

“That’s enough, Ken. Nobody want to see yer lil butt. Hurry up ‘n wash cuz papa still has to bathe Shoko.” Kensuke’s bad self is splashing water in the tub and it’s getting all over his twin. Kosuke doesn’t like it so he smacks his brother and the latter begins to cry.

“DADDY, K-KO KOSUKE HIT ME, AHHHHHHH.” Atsumu rubs his temple. He all but freezes when he feels a soft hand kneed into his shoulder.

“Seems like you guys had a great time, Shoko’s covered in juice.” He turns his head to look at you.

“it’s not what ya think, hon!” You shake your head at him.

“Ko, don’t hit your brother. When papa is being annoying you don’t see me hitting him, now do you?” He answers honestly, “sometimes you do… you’ll punch papa’s shoulder.”

He got you there lol. “Well that’s more out of love. Apologize to him and you,” you point to your little trouble maker, “don’t provoke your brother, got it?” He nods and goes to rub his eyes. Which is why he started crying for the second time because he got soap in his eyes…

Anyway after their bath and dinner the boys were sent to bed. Shoko was bathed and you and Atsumu were laying in bed.

“I shoulda been watching them..” he admits. You agree. “You live and you learn ‘Tsumu.”

He had no idea what he was doing at first tbh

he can be a bit lazy w the boys sometimes but in the end he pulls it together

The type of dad to make you sit there and say cheese for 500 years while he tries to get the perfect picture

He was mad cuz he thought the twins loved samu more than him

he was sad when they didn’t seem too interested in volleyball “Atsumu, they’re five.” … “Still!”

Impulsively bought a dog cuz his sons wouldn’t stop talking abt having one

In the end he loves his boys very much and would do anything for them

Tsukishima Kei:

“I hate you mom! I really wanted to go!” Your 13 year old daughter slammed her door. She was angry because you didn’t let her go to a dance some kid in her class was hosting. It’s not that she particularly wanted to go, she was just mad that her 17 year old brother got to go out to his friend’s party.

Your husband emerges from his office, he adjusts his glasses and looked at you with curiosity. You sigh hugging him, “Kei.. am I a bad mother?” He squeezes you in the hug, “not in the slightest. We’re doing what’s best for them. What’s got her so upset?”

“She wants to go to this party but I said no because I don’t know any of the parents there. Also, I’m just scared something will happen to her.”

He rubs your back in a comforting way. “I’ll let her go-” you interrupt, “Kei!” He gives you a quick peck to the lips.

“Wasn’t done…” you stayed quiet waiting for him to finish. He clears his throat. “As I was saying… I’ll allow her to go if I chaperone. If she doesn’t like that she won’t go.” He decided and you sigh in relief.

“I’ll go order pizza. Can you talk to her?” He nods, “Supreme.” You roll your eyes at him and smile. “I know what you like dummy.” He playfully flips you off and you laugh in shock at how childish he is even though he’s past his prime years.

He walks over to Hanae’s door and knocks softly. “Go away mom! I don’t like you!” Tsukishima shakes his head. He’s not going to tolerate her disrespecting you, the person who birthed her. He opens the door and she’s on her bed with her headphones on and dried tears on her face.

“Dad…” She already knew what was to come. She knows he doesn’t like when she disrespects you like that. “Don’t say you hate her. She’s your mother, Hanae. It hurts her to hear those words come from your mouth.” She lowers her head and takes her headphones off.

“I didn’t mean it..” her voice is small. Tsukishima handles the situation as he usually would, find the root of the problem (even though he already knew)

“What made you say it?” He sat on her bed and pat a spot next to him basically telling her to come closer. “Um.. I wanted to go to this dance a guy a know is hosting but she said no…” her eyes didn’t meet her father’s.

“Why’d you want to go so bad?” He says bringing her chin up so she looks right into his eyes. He knows she hates it but direct communication is key, even facial expressions can reveal the slightest things.

“W-well. Ugh, why am I crying this is so stupid.” She pauses to wipe her eyes.

“You guys let Akihiko go where ever he wants but I can’t go anywhere! I hate it!” She turns her head away, Tsukki can hear the little sniffles.

“Not true. A lot of stuff that he went to when he was younger, he was chaperoned. We just barely started letting him go out alone so he can get a taste of real life. You can ask him yourself. You’re only thirteen, don’t rush it. Also your mother and I just want to protect you from dangerous situations. Your mom doesn’t know any of the people there which is why she said no.” Tsukki is once again rubbing circles into someone’s back.

“There are so many bad people in the world and we just want to make you a little safer.” She turns back to face him, she scoots closer to her dad so she can hug him.

“I’m sorry.” She says through sniffles. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” She nods, “I need a minute.” He strokes her hair as she finishes letting it all out.

“I told your mother you can go if I chaperone you.” He explains after she’s calmed down.

“Dad, you’re gonna embarrass me.” She says with a giggle, tears now drying up.

“Damn right I will. I’ll tell all those hungry little boys that you eat your boogers and you don’t shower for weeks.” He says with a sly grin. She frowns, “dad no!”

He pats her back, “alright kid go apologize if you really mean it.” You and your daughter make up and eat pizza together :3

VERY logical

also super protective

100% the kind of dad who loves his kids but puts his wife first

He’s the bad cop parent while you’re the good cop parent

He loves family cooking night where you guys cook together

he will embarrass both his children in front of their crushes (and thinks it’s the funniest thing ever)

He just seems like the kind of dad to fall asleep and get colored on 😭 they give him a lil mustache and a uni-brow

I feel like he kinda always sides with Hanae for the most part bc he was a little sibling so he knows her pain lmao

he be bragging abt his kids “Akihiko is only six and he’s already reading flawlessly” “Oh, Hanae already did that when she was three”

you wanted to delay the sex talk but like Tsukki was so blunt and just told them 😭

He’s always teasing you “If you don’t be careful Akihiko you might end up with someone as annoying as your mom” you just glare and he snickers

Such a proud dad and has a video of every one of his kids’ firsts

#dad!haikyuu #haikyuu dads #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #dad!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tendou #tendou x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #dad!atsumu #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukki x reader #haikyuu characters as dads #dad!tendou #dad!tsukishima

[beiasluv]

sully boys walked on you changing 😳

a/n: i am out of ideasss, lmk if you have some :) anyways, enjoy! :)

masterlist

although the na’vis are not known for their coverage in clothing pieces, they have a time for changing things up.

i swear they are putting so much trust in their piece of clothing, like neytiri’s top is holding on for its dear life.

jake (2009)

“hey, y/n um- OM MY FUCKING-“

“HEY! JAKE GET THE FUCK OUT!” you covered your bare chest and turned away from him. “GET OUT! LEARN HOW TO KNOCK FOR MY SAKE!”

“so- sorry!”

“GO!”

“y- yes! going now,” he closed the curtain slowly.

“no peaking!”

stares a moment before going out the tent. he is doing that shOOk face before collecting his senses.

definitely smirking to himself behind the curtain

jake is definitely a sweet guy and a consent king, but he can’t help himself sometimes, y’know. getting those free views is not something he’ll see everyday, might as well take advantage of it.

he tries to kill his thoughts but those pictures flash over and over he had to beat himself to it.

definitely have to bonk his head to get some senses back. he’ll be so flirty at first, but he’ll become so shy afterwards

definitely thinking about you before going to bed. he’ll be a drunk person in love, imagining your embrace during the nights.

tails wagging and everything when he daydream about you.

can’t even look at you in the eyes for a week, i guess. he was so ashamed but he can’t help himself teasing you of it 😈

the sweetest boy 100% tho. he’ll even comfort you.

“hey, y/n, i know i can be a wuss sometimes but you don’t have to be embarrassed to me. I know i’m an idiot but you have a really sweet body, don’t think i am a creep, but i think every part of you is perfect, and i mean it,” he tucked a hair behind your ear.

neteyam

his father’s son 100% a flirty boy

“y/n, i was wondering- OH HOLY- nice views”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, GET OUT!”

“okay, okay, going now, you should wear that more, or should i say i like it off,” he snickered behind the curtains.

“YOU- son of a- please, get out!”

he is so sweet about it tho. he’ll apologize afterwards 🥺

he’ll hug you whenever he can 100% and shower you with comforting words. maybe he can shower you with seductive compliments *AHEM*

“i know I’m an idiot, y/n, but you are so cute for me, and i mean it, okay?” “never let anyone sees you like that, because you are my little potato and mine.”

but neteyam being neteyam, he’ll throw out a joke afterwards like

“next time call me, I’ll help you change.” *wink* *wink*

he’ll daydream about the scene that flashed against his eyes, he wouldn’t complain about it. just basically dozed off in the middle of the day, drooling and everything, and people around him were worried asf. “tf is wrong with his dude.”

wanders to those deep dark waters that he know he shouldn’t go there. definitely cringe at himself and smack some senses back.

then he always learned how to shout before going in, which other people thinks it’s weird why he started doing it now, after all these years.

when he knows you are inside he’ll never miss a chance to tease you.

“hey, y/n! watch out for a handsome boy going in, he might see some views.”

“oh, shut up.”

lo’akkk

my boyyyy, he is flustered to the flustered

“y/n, i wanted to ask- AH- WHAT-“

“OH MY GOODNESS, please, get out!”

“I’m so sorry!”

his face is so red that people walking past the tent would ask if he is okay💀 he’ll be so flustered he couldn’t even answer them.

people got worried so they called jake to see💀

“lo’ak! what happened, did you do something?” he grabbed his son and shook him.

“no-nothing dad! let me go!” he refused to stay in his embrace.

“then tell me what happened!”

“MR.SULLY, HE SAW ME CHANGING! IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” you quickly got out of the tent. lo’ak’s face turned even redder and his body’s temperature is rising rapidly.

the fact that, I am telling you, jake died laughing inside. he was like- “HUH” and then “HAHAHSHSHHA”

lo’ak couldn’t be more embarrassed, but he was met with your comforting words later on. you went to see him in his tent alone, choosing wisely to bring a shawl to cover your shoulder

“hey, lo’ak, are you feeling better?” you placed your hand on his shoulder. “look, i’m sorry-“

“no, please, i should be the one apologizing,” he turned to look at you, instinctively looking down first but panicked and looked up. “I’m sorry for reacting like that, your body made me think things i never imagined- BRAH EW WHAT DID I JUST SAY.”

“it’s okay,” you giggled. “glad i can help.”

“NO- I SWEAR I AM NOT A CREEP!”

“YOU ARE MY CREEPER,” a peck on his lips. muah.

today’s a great day to try something new! and take care! 🤍

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

#avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #jake sully imagine #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak x reader #fanfiction #imagines

[miioouu]

Mean Dad's Best Friend! Ghost pt 2

Continuation of this. In which you make him jelly.  Tw: smut, age gap, f!reader, mean ghost, oral (male receiving), dumbification, appearance of Captain John Price and Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish.  Wc: 1.6k 

     It wasn't an exaggeration when you felt as if you were the dumbest person to have ever existed. You could've denied his request, gotten over him and never thought about him ever again. But no, no you wanted to be his good girl, so you did it. The next day you texted her, that witch that ruined your life and ensorcelled your man, the one you called your best friend, to tell her about him.

    "He's nice, really! Yeah he's a bit old, but aren't you tired of boys who don't know what they're doing? They're all bark no bites. But Ghost on the other hand, I don't know, he seems like a good man…" And it's stupid, why are you convincing her? Why are you saying all these nice things about the man who's using you, taking advantage of your love for him? Because he wanted you to do it, and even though you know it's a lie, you can't help but feel as if he'd keep his promise of coming back to you, of giving you what you wanted.

       Oh you poor girl. So into that older big man, you'd throw your pride aside? You'd make the others look at you in pity? Your eyes were lined with tears during the next get together your father threw. She was in his arms, giggling and twirling her hair as he looked her up and down, as he smirked when his fingers would brush against her arm, chuckling when it’d cover with goosebumps. It’s you who should feel shivers down your spine by the way his calloused palm is pawing at your thighs under the table. It’s you who should be doing a poor job at hiding a hickey from the night prior. It’s you who should be his, it’s you who should be his, it’s you who should be his! 

How could he do it? Make a poor young girl cry like that, break her heart and replace her with her best friend? You're not the only one wondering that, it’s obvious by the way they kept talking to you, Price offering you a sip of his whiskey to make you laugh as your father scolded him. Or Soap sitting you down next to him as he started telling you about his time in Chicago (only the good memories though, he would never worry you over his  traumatising military life). As if both men had a silent agreement to take your mind off of mean Ghost. As if both men decided to make you forget about your disloyal friend. As if both men made it a competition of who can make you smile more, who could touch you more, who could make you blush more. 

Seated between them, the captain had an arm thrown on the back of your chair, playing with your hair, rolling a strand between his digits before he’d start massaging your scalp. Johnny on your left, holding your hand in his, caressing your knuckles as a way to warm you up in the cold breeze of the last summer days, and every so often, he would lean to whisper something in your ear, his eyes involuntarily snapping down your chest, trying to hide his smirk when he’d catch a glimpse of your lace mint bra. But he’s not as sly as he’d thought he was, Ghost’s attention was on him, and his superior, as he played with the hem of the other girl’s dress. He was livid, his teeth clenched and gritting against each other. His eyes were red, slit like a big cat observing its prey, ready to pounce, to attack and devour. Not yet though, not yet, he’d let you relish in their immersion of you, let you drown in their obsession, he’d be the one to bring you back to the surface of reality. 

He didn’t see it coming though, didn’t predict it, that you’d reciprocate. Why are you laughing at Soap’s stupid joke? And why are you giving Price doe eyes as he’s telling you about his latest accomplishment? It doesn’t compare to his anyway. He huffed, audible and loud, making his comrades, or right now, his competition look at him with a knowing smile, they beat him. His anger was obvious the moment you excused yourself, pushing away his toy and following you. “You’re having fun, yeah? You like having all this male attention on you, whore?” And you gasped, turning around to face him, a look of offence written clearly on your expression. “Sorry? Why do you care anyway? Shouldn’t you be busy with her?” you spat out, surprising him as he expected the usual dumb girl act from you, but this response only fueled his desire more. He took two large steps towards you, caging you between his muscular chest and the bathroom wall behind. His arm reached backwards to lock the door, before wrapping around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his, rutting to make you feel his anger. “You sure you wanna play with these two imbeciles? Let me remind you of something, darling. I didn’t give you what you wanted because I didn't want to, on the other hand they, they’re not able to…” His voice dripped with self-conceit, his hands on your hips shook with wrath, holding you so tight it began to hurt, bruise even. 

You should say something, maybe yell for someone to help you, maybe push him away, tell him to leave you alone, that you’re not one to fool around with, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not with the way his hands slid under your shirt, like they always did, taking it off and throwing it somewhere. Not with the way his tongue darted out to wet his lip before they started attacking your neck, all the way down to your chest, groaning in more frustration when he couldn’t reach his dessert. He huffed and pulled away, or at least intended to, but as soon as you felt him lift up from your flesh you couldn’t help your hands from flying to push at his shoulders, keeping him in place, you couldn’t stop the whine that escaped from deep within you, an indirect pray for him to stay. He laughed at you, like he always did “See. No one can make you feel the way I do… No one will ever be able to put up with a slut like you the way I do. So forget about them, you belong to me…”

Possessive and obsessive, this is his nature. Once he gets his eye on something, God helps the poor souls that will try to take it away from him. God helps the poor soul that tries to get away from him, in this case, it's you. And it's unfair, he's unfair, he's always been. Shouldn't he be yours too? Shouldn't he belong to you too? Why is he claiming her too then? And who knows who else he got under him at night and he didn't let you voice out your frustrations, didn't let you scream or even think properly, sanely. Your lust for this hulk of a man made you lose all sense of rationality. "Say it. Admit it darling. You belong to me" You nodded, like the stupid girl he's used to. His hands left your hips, moved to your shoulders and pushed you down as he spoke with his gruff voice "No…use your voice" And again, how are you supposed to do that when your lips part to agree with him, your voice hasn’t even rumbled in your throat, he pushed the head of his cock into your wet cavern. Your eyes widened for a second before they fluttered, keeping tears as bay as he started to thrust his hips in and out of your mouth. 

He groaned and sucked his teeth as he felt your lips around his base, forcing you to take him deeper, the tip of your nose brushing against his pubes, making it even harder to breathe. But no. What made it impossible to breathe was the hand that rested on the back of your head keeping you steady, massaging your scalp, his fingers dipping to the side slightly, rubbing your ears and it made your heart flutter, a hum of delight vibrated around him. “You like it, hmm? It’s better than that poor excuse of touch that old man was giving you, isn’t it dear? You know…you know my hands are better.” The heart doe eyes you gave him made him laugh, he knows you agreed. He knows from the way you willingly started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks and taking more of him in. From the way your hands pawed at the defined muscles of his thighs, your nails digging into his flesh leaving blood crescents. From the way your brows furrowed in concentration, tears sparkled under the harsh white light of the bathroom, silently begging to taste him. Maybe he’ll give you what you wanted this time, he promised after all, right? “You know I taste better too, hmm? Better than that useless sergeant, and certainly better than that hypocritical old captain.” He growled, his hips moving at a harsh speed and he cackled again…But it wasn’t him. “Hypocrite? Me?” A hand, still as calloused and harsh as Ghost’s, still as big and meaty, but somewhat warmer, pushed you off before grabbing your chin, making you look at storm blue eyes. John’s voice dripped with challenge as his head turned to look at the slightly younger man “You think you taste better? Let the sweetheart decide then, Lieutenant.”

#ghost x reader #ghost smut #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #smut #female reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghost call of duty

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Lesser of Two Evils pt3 - Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x Toto Wolff’s daughter!reader , side pairing: Max Verstappen x Toto Wolff’s daughter!reader

Probably the longest wait ever for a final part. I think I’d started writing this and just lost my way with it. But this series has got a bit of attention recently and I figured since I had some of it written up. I’d just finish it and upload. 

Part 1     Part 2

Morning came around and y/n didn’t make a break for it before he woke up this time. In fact Charles woke up to find her gaze practically laser focused in on him. Then she raised her hand to just cupped his cheek, rubbing a thumb against the dimple that appears when he smiles at her. 

But even after the peaceful wake up, she whispered that she’d need to leave, but this time she left him and there was a few messages. Days apart between conversations but they kept it up and within two races she was in the paddock trying to get herself away from Toto.

“I hear you and y/n have been talking a lot.” Lewis states as they stand together waiting for the driver’s parade.

“She told you?”

Not very in character for y/n to be spreading her all secrets.

“Y/n tells me everything. I’m like the human form of a diary for her.” Lewis smirks and he knows he’s annoying Charles because he’s essentially just told the Monegasque that he knows much more than Charles could probably even wish to know. “I’ve known y/n a long time. Just...make sure you’re keeping it up with what you’re doing.”

“So my chances aren’t bad?” Charles smiles feeling a little better about the whole situation. Lewis’ smile says enough for him to feel confident about it. “Max likes her too. He is champion, that’s a lot to work against and she enjoys upsetting her dad a lot.”

“I’ve known y/n a long time. She’s not the type to make anything easy and she’s certainly not the type to be impressed by a championship winner. When I won my 7th, she turned to me and said “it’s only seven, Schumacher got there first” then told me to find her when I’ve beat the legend not equalled him.”

“You have more-”

“She doesn’t care about race wins. Apparently when you have so many it’s stops being impressive when you win them.”

Charles almost wants to point out the flaw in that since every race win Lewis gets, he’s beating his own record. But it’s been quite a while since they were a witness to that.

“Anyway, my point it that you just need to give her the time. She knows what she could lose if she fumbles with you.” Lewis states earning a dimpled smile while he nods at him.

-

The reassurance Lewis lasted about 3 hours. then her found y/n in conversation with Max, sure it wasn’t actually just Max. It was Max, Yuki and Liam. Apparently she’s collecting Red Bull drivers like Pokemon in conversation. But she’s only actually looking at Max and really talking directly to him more than the others.

That’s just the jealousy speaking. 

“Are you eavesdropping?” Carlos asks making Charles turn like he’s just been caught doing something borderline illegal. 

“No.” 

Carlos’ slightly evil grin lets Charles know that he got away with nothing for saying that.

“Y/n!” Carlos calls out making her whip around.

“Carlos!” Y/n exclaims excitedly as he walks to her and picks the young woman up in a hug. “How have you been? It’s been ages since I got to talk to you properly.”

“That is because I am not Max or Charles.” Carlos jokes placing her back down and looking at him for a moment, an expression of warning to play his next cards carefully with what he says. “You should come to the Ferrari team if you are going to betray your father.”

“Red Bull is the enemy. She annoys him more with us.” Max laughs earning a small eye roll from y/n though he can’t see her. Her gaze floats across to behind Carlos and she sees Charles. 

“Charlie.” Y/n smiles moving to him. “I have been meaning to talk to you. Can we walk?”

The lack of subtlety doesn’t go amiss to anyone and Charles’ gaze flicking to Max who looks to have accepted his loss on this occasion. Though that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

“You don’t hide jealousy well.” Y/n smiles linking her hand with Charles’ as they walk and he surprises himself with how tightly he latches onto her. “I’ve been thinking, very hard actually. Which honestly doesn’t usually have much of a good outcome.”

“This time is different?” Charles asks almost hating how hopeful he sounds. He’s been pining after this woman for months and most people would (and have) said that he needs to count his lucky stars that she has not finally pursued him. 

“I hope so.” Y/n smiles lightly then nudging him lightly. “I know I’ve not been the most admirable person. I’ve spent my life doing things to get my dad’s attention because he’s given more attention to motorsport than he’s ever thought to give to me. I liked attention from you and all the drivers because I thought it was nice to get the attention from all of you. Especially when it got his attention too.”

Charles can see her mind trying to refind her point in the mess of words rushing from her lips. Y/n finally stops, scrunching up her face in frustration before she lets out a heavy sigh.

“Things changed with you...and I don’t want to mess things up because I thought playing games was going to be ok. But now I realise I was probably hurting you...and it’s hard knowing I hurt someone I really like.” Y/n explains then swallowing thickly as she smiles lightly at him. “I was hoping I could convince you to go on a date with me. My treat, my idea. I’ll handle everything. Just...us and hopefully a chance to to prove that I’m...not a horrible person like I may have acted like I am.”

“No one has ever thought you’re horrible.” Charles states with a small frown making her look at him for a moment. “I want to go on a date with you. I want to go on a lot of dates with you.”

“Sounds like we might need to make some more plans together then.” Y/n smiles lightly then swallowing thickly. “I’m going to be better. I promise you.”

“You don’t need to change yourself for me, mon cherie.” Charles smiles making her swallow thickly before he kisses her softly. The spaced closed between them leaving a settled feeling in her stomach erupt into butterflies, she can’t help smiling into it.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Toto’s voice exclaims making her shift looking at her dad though as she does both herself and Charles find themselves getting a thumbs up from Lewis beside her dad. 

“Calm down dad. It could’ve been Max.” Y/n dismisses earning a glare but he does keep himself silence since he really does know to count his luck. The sort of things that could come from y/n being involved with Max, though that doesn’t mean he’s eager for y/n to be with anyone. 

Taglist: @scenesofobx​  @eviethetheatrefreak​

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #leclerc #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #ferrari f1 #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 fic #cl16 imagine #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #cl16 x y/n #cl16 fluff #cl16 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 imagine

[stevethehairington]

Eddie has learned how to read Steve's moods, to pick up on his tells. To know if today is going to be a good day or a bad day, and what flavor of insecurity will be flaring up the worst for him.

The days when Steve is feeling down about his scars and the permanent damage to his body, he doesn't like to be touched. And even though Eddie would love nothing more than to do exactly that, to brush his fingers softly over the mottled skin, to leave a gentle kiss over every single patch, to feel Steve living and breathing beneath his touch, he keeps his hands to himself and uses his words isntead.

Some days he has to be careful with those too — he'll remind Steve how beautiful he is. Tell him that he loves his scars because they mean that he survived. Wax poetry about how they match, how that must mean they're destined for one another. That they're a pair now, a matching set.

Other days he can get a little more creative with it —he'll swoon against the kitchen counter while Steve's pouring himself a glass of juice and fan his hand in front of himself and ask Steve, "Is it hot in here or is it just you?". Or he'll call Steve the most gorgeous man to grace the earth, scars and road rash and tail burn and all. Sometimes he'll ask Steve when his next action film is set to hit theaters, because he looks like the ruggedly handsome hunk that belongs front and center on the poster.

When the pendulum swings the other way and Steve gets too in his head about his personality flaws, he gets quieter. He'll try to isolate himself more, and if he does have to be around people, he won't add much to the conversation — out of fear of saying the wrong thing, fear of letting his bitchiness creep too far back into the Certified Asshole territory he's worked so hard to leave behind, fear of looking and sounding even stupider than he feels.

Those days Eddie eases back on the compliments towards Steve's looks and praises him for the less superficial things instead. Like when Steve does participate in conversations, Eddie always makes sure to be extra attentive to what he's saying and to acknowledge it too. He'll laugh at all of Steve's jokes and call him funny (even if the jokes aren't funny, but let's face it, they're all funny, because they're from Steve. And even if the jokes are technically bad, they're just so damn endearing coming from him, Eddie can't help but laugh anyways. Plus, like, Eddie does genuinely think Steve is a funny guy; he's got some good snarky comebacks and a whooole bunch of dorky dad jokes and they always hit, especially when Steve that cute, crooked grin curves onto his face after he delivers them, like he's just so damn pleased with himself for saying something so goofy).

Eddie will find ways to remind Steve of things he's done that showcase how smart he is, how thoughtful he is, how kind he is. Like he'll bring up how Steve has all of the kids' schedules memorized, doesn't even need to write it down or anything, and still manages to never miss an activity or a pick up. And he'll ask Steve if he's going to help Lucas practice before basketball tryouts again this year because he's got so much knowledge about the sport from when he played, and he's so good at it, and Lucas really looks up to him for that. Or Eddie will purposefully ask Steve questions that let him flex those muscles too, like, "Hey, Steve, what's Dustin's favorite color again? I'm painting this mini fig for his character and I wanna make the shield that color, but I can't remember if he likes red or blue more." That's wrong, the answer is actually green — Eddie knows this. But he also knows that Steve knows this. And he likes the way Steve perks up when he gets asked these kinds of things. Things he knows the answers for. Things he barely even has to think about, the answers just come so naturally to him. The hundreds of tiny, seemingly insignificant little details that are actually so ridiculously important because they highlight just how much Steve pays attention. Just how much he cares.

The compliments and the praise don't solve the problem completely; the insecurities are rooted deep. Eddie gets that, though. He has a lot of the same ones, and Steve is just as good at helping him when he gets in his head too. But they help. He knows from experience that they help. Because each time he starts to believe them a little more and his twisted brain a little less.

So he does what he can to help Steve believe them a little more too.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ty liam for bringing the topic of steve and eddie and figuring out which compliments to give when up!!! #and to ria and rino for the fluff and the angst and the fluff that kicked all of this off so that it could end up here!!! #💕💕💕 #mack writes #macks ficlets

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

being tony stark's daughter would include... (headcanons)

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 778

request: yes / no

original request: can you do one where the reader is tony’s daughter and loves to wear fancy stuff like cher from clueless 😭. and instead of being that stereotypical “mean spoiled rich girl”, the reader is actually super sweet and people sometimes take that for granted and use her for her stuff and money?

dynamic: tony stark x stark daughter!reader

characters: reader, tony stark, happy hogan, mention of steve rogers, natasha romanoff, bruce banner, peter parker, harley keener, and miles morales

a/n: ty for the request!! also requests are still open hehe :)

coming soon: clint barton younger sibling headcanons, overprotective avengers when reader has a boyfriend headcanons, hanging at the sanctum sanctorum over break headcanons

taglist: @nutellani

(message me or send an ask if you'd like to be included in the taglist!)

-----------------------✰----------------------

tony stark is an awesome dad. 

like he just goes above and beyond to make you smile.

it’s well-known that he spoils everyone at the compound, but since you’re his daughter, he spoils you A LOT.

you’ll come home from school often to find a little box on your bed, and it’s always something you either had mentioned in passing, or something that you didn’t even know you needed. 

like you got into crocheting for a little bit. you now have buckets full of multicolored yarns in every texture and color one could ever need!!

also i feel like when you told him your favorite ice cream was the same flavor as his favorite, he literally almost burst with excitement.

and now you ALWAYS have that ice cream.

he even built a little gadget that only lets you and him eat out of it.

the only exception to the rule is happy, as thor painfully found out one day.

he went to have some and it shocked him, but happy just reached in and got it anyway.

also if you’re tony stark’s daughter, i just have to say what an iconic trio you, your dad, and happy are.

like y’all always look so badass with matching shades or whatever.

you got matching shirts for you three for christmas and they both reluctantly wore it.

natasha took like fifteen pictures and steve was literally on the floor dying because he thought it was so funny.

anyways one of the coolest things about being tony stark’s daughter are the gadgets.

for example, you have a lot of clothes. but guess what? you don’t ever have to do laundry.

all of your clothes are put in this special hamper. it washes, dries, and folds/hangs the clothes up for you, then puts them away in a neat fashion. 

you have a high tech mirror (ala cher from clueless!!!!) where you can “try on” outfits before you actually retrieve them to wear.

it’s kind of awesome? 

jk it IS awesome.

anyways you’re also super smart.

science and math just come easily.

it must be…. in your blood or something.

bruce made that joke once and tony locked him out of the lab. then peter tried to make it too and tony made him go “test” a robot that blocks people out of a room HAHA

that being said, your dad actually lets you in the lab.

ikr? kind of crazy.

you have your own little corner to work on stuff.

also you and bruce are so iconic. i think you would have tea parties every sunday. 

tony says it’s “childish” but you can tell he’s jealous

once you caught happy setting up high tea for him and tony but then he told you that you didn’t actually see anything

now, it’s usually a great thing to be tony stark’s daughter

but finding real friends is tough.

there are people who are awesome, like peter parker, harley keener, and miles morales. 

but there’s a lot of people who’ll use you to get to your dad or your money.

and yes that sounds stereotypical, but it’s really tough.

there was a group of kids who seemed really excited to go out with you, but then you realized it was all for social media clout and that they expected gifts and stuff.

so you ended up exploding on them, and it gave your dad some bad press.

you were so embarrassed that you locked yourself in your room, refusing to come out.

happy left some tea outside but you didn’t want it.

so then finally tony came in.

guys he’s iron man he can get through a locked door 

and you didn’t really want to talk.

so instead he just put on some music.

some really loud guitar music.

and then, with the door still open, tony stark began playing air guitar.

now you knew he would do this sometimes, but not with the door open.

and then he started to SING.

that man cannot sing guys.

needless to say, it gave you a laugh.

he grabbed your hands, pulled you up, and the two of you started dancing around the room, laughing harder than ever before.

when the song ended, he told you he wasn’t mad.

and that people can be losers sometimes

but that you certainly weren’t.

then he said one day he would come up with a loser detector so that you wouldn't have to go through something like that again.

and he was only half joking, so you just laughed.

but deep down, you were happy to have someone who cared for you as much as your dad, tony stark, did.

-----------------------✰----------------------

#tony stark x daughter! reader #tony stark headcanons #tony stark #marvel #mcu #marvel headcanons #mcu headcanons #iron man #iron man headcanons #bruce banner #the hulk #steve rogers #captain america #peter parker #miles morales #harley keener #natasha romanoff #black widow #the black widow #spiderman #iron lad

[the-s1lly-corner]

Maybe, reader is super funny and have a super funny laugh? like, they can laugh from literally everything, and their laughter is like the whistling of a kettle. I hope you understand me

TADC cast x reader w/ a funny laugh!

You guys know how I said that I was gonna go to sleep ab 5 ish hours ago because I had to work on a bunch of stuff the next day

Its uh

Now 4am, could not sleep at all. This always happens when I know I have busy days coming up. I hate it so much, melatonin hasnt worked. Meditating hadnt worked. Everything dodnt work

Blugh

Anyways! New mission is to keep myself awake between working on stuff to try not to get tempted to nap today

So uh... more requests will be answered today

Hope you guys enjoy this !! I was admittedly a little lost on ideas for this request 😭 not sure if it's this specific request or because I've been writing so so much <\3

The writers block be hittin

CAINE:

Honestly caine seems like a comedy sort of guy, you know? He looks like he enjoys telling and hearing a good joke every now and then. So I can easily see you two just rattling off jokes to each other until your digital lungs cant handle the sheer amount you guys are laughing!

I think he would lightly tease you for your laugh, but it's all in good fun!

POMNI:

I think she would be able to find some humor in your jokes, even through her desperation to escape the circus. I think that there would be some occasions where she would tell you to cut it out with the jokes, mostly if shes trying to look around for any clues of an exit

As for the laugh, I think it REALLY catches her off guard, especially in the beginning. Probably just stands there awkwardly

RAGATHA:

Honestly I personally see ragatha not being able to tell good jokes, be it because they dont make sense or because the punchline just isnt that funny.... perhaps both. Point is only the dullest of people will laugh at her attempts. With that being said I think she would love hearing you chatter! Really helps take the stress out of a hard day

I think your laugh would make her laugh harder. Then make you laugh harder, which makes her laugh-

Okay you get the point. It's like a whole loop

JAX:

Now this man can be a real jokester. Sure a lot of his jokes revolve around some level of meanness and teasing, so theres a chance your senses of humor may clash against one another. Afterall, humor that relies on making fun of people isnt for everyone and it can only go so far until it steps into bullying territory. Similar to caine, you two have a "joke off"

I think he would either find your laugh really goofy, or annoying. No in between though it may vary by the day. Probably gives you a nickname based on what your laugh sounds like

KINGER:

He gives dad vibes so by law he has to enjoy dad jokes, that's his humor. Bad cheesy jokes are his go to. I don't think he himself makes many jokes, given his current state,but I think he does appreciate it when you go off and tell him a bunch of jokes

I think if you had a really distinct or intense laugh it would catch him off guard, but ultimately he grows used to it

ZOOBLE:

Doesnt really understand how you can laugh at literally anything. Well, unless its jax getting karma for his antics.. then maybe they would laugh along with you. As funny as they think you are, I dont think they would be able to listen to jokes and funny stories every day for an extended period of time. Zooble had a short social battery imo and they do like their alone time. Nothing against you, this is just how they are!

Very similar to jax in regards to your laugh, just without the nickname portion. I think they would feel just a touch bad if your laugh happens to irritate them, they at least understand you cant really. Change your laugh

GANGLE:

Ohohohoh when she had her comedy mask, you guys are bouncing off one another like in Caines piece! However when her comedy mask is broken and shes shedding tears, your jokes can still make her lighten up just a bit.. so hey at least its helping someone..!

Honestly she kind of finds your laugh endearing. It's just so genuine and open, you dont try to hide your laugh or suppress it or try to change it. I dunno, maybe I'm putting too much thought into gangle having a mask that literally effects her mood and demeanor, but I think she would wish she could be as open as you

.. or maybe she just thinks you're cute

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 6

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 4K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

This one's a little longer than the last few, but it's one I was really excited to get to for a while. I hope you guys like it! We're starting to get into the nitty gritty! Once again please let me know what you think of it! Thank you all for your support :)

__________

After your emotional conversation with Pedro, you were worried he'd stop talking to you. At least, it seems that's how it usually works. Whenever you try to have a conversation about emotions with someone, it gets shut down. But surprisingly.. it didn't push Pedro away at all. The two of you talk nearly every day on the phone, and when you don't, it's made up for with plenty of text messages. You don't even have to be the first to communicate, either. It just feels natural. It doesn't need to be over-thought.

You keep telling yourself not to get your hopes up, but at the same time, you feel like maybe it's turning into something. Something more than friends. You couldn't help but wonder if Pedro felt the same way, or if maybe he's just a really nice guy.

Despite these feelings, you're still hesitant to tell him you love him. Although he put many of your fears to rest, you continued to be nervous. You were inexperienced. You were significantly younger than him. You led two very different lives. And even though he reassured you about your appearances, it doesn't mean you'd be his type once he actually saw you. Shoot, you don't even know if he's interested in pursuing a relationship.

Plus, now there's the risk of messing up a new friendship. Why ruin it?

How does anyone ever get into a relationship? Others make it look so easy, jumping from relationship to relationship like their heart isn't at stake.

Maybe someday you'd tell him. Maybe someday you'd share these other fears as well. But not yet. You weren't ready.

_____

About a week had gone by since you first talked on the phone, and it was around 1 PM when he called you.

"Hey Pedro!"

"Hey there, songbird," he replied cheerily.

"Songbird?" You giggled.

"If you hate it-"

"No, I love it. It's sweet," you blushed.

"Okay good. But the reason I'm calling is because I saw something on Instagram…"

"Oh yeah? What of?"

"About you. When were you going to tell me?"

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh what? What is he referring to?

You nervously laughed "I… what? Tell you what now?"

"Your album is coming out in a WEEK!??!" He practically yelled with excitement.

Seriously… this guy. Giving me a damn heart attack.

"OH" you replied sheepishly. "You scared me, thinking you heard… I dunno"

"Oh! I'm sorry. No. I haven't heard any information that you haven't told me yourself, nor would I believe it anyway. Other than.. this album!!!" Pedro announced like a gameshow host.

You laughed before replying "yes, yes, the album comes out next week! They just announced it I guess."

Pedro clapped and shouted. "CONGRATULATIONS!!!! I'm so happy and proud of you!!!!!!!!"

You weren't looking in a mirror, and he couldn't see you either, but you could bet money that your cheeks were a bright shade of pink. "Thank you, Pedro!" You giggled, your face beginning to hurt from the large smile he caused.

"How are you celebrating? Is the studio doing anything for you?"

"Well they mentioned an album release party, but being that nobody really knows me I don't know who I would even invite. Plus I'm not sure that a large thing like that is how I'd like to show myself to the world. A little too ceremonious for my liking." You grimaced.

"Well, I happen to think you deserve something ceremonious, even if you don't think you do. And I think we should celebrate."

"We - you - you do? You mean…?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"You and me," he said matter-of-factly.

"You.. and… What did you have in mind?" 

Frankly you didn't know what to think.

"Well. I was thinking… Maybe we could listen to the album together? We could talk on the phone and listen, and it would be like our own little album release party. You wouldn't have to show yourself or meet people. It would just be like our normal conversations. Except I'd get to hear your new music and talk about it with you. If you want," he said, sounding slightly nervous.

Your heart swelled at the gesture and you agreed happily. The two of you made a plan to "meet" at 7PM and listen together the night of your album release. And he promised he wouldn't listen without you.

_____

It wasn't until after you were off the phone with him that you began to overthink the songs on your album. Not unlike your first single, these were also rather vulnerable at times. Sure, he knew a lot, and he'd listen to the album anyway. Probably. But still. To hear it… together? You were starting to feel like you were in over your head.

Nevertheless, the week continued on like normal. Work, talking to Pedro, hanging with Skipper. You agreed to a few more interviews in article or voice format after the release, and signed a few last minute things.

As the album date approached closer, Pedro texted you one day.

"Okay I'm going to ask you something and I want you to trust me okay. I'm not going to do anything that I know you would hate."

"Okay…" what does this man have up his sleeve?

"Can I have your address?"

Why does he want my address???? The panic settled in. But, you did like him; and he hadn't crossed any boundaries yet. In fact, he's been one of the most understanding of your qualms.

So. You sent him your address.

"Thank you ❤️" Pedro replied.

A heart !?! A red one!? 

"You're welcome. Also… I was planning to tell you anyway, but if you're looking for my address I may as well tell you…" you told him your real name. Not your stage name. Not a nickname. But your name. First, Last. All of it.

"Thank you for trusting me. I promise I'll keep it safe," reassured Pedro.

"Thank you, P."

"Of course. You have a beautiful name, by the way."

Your heart did a somersault.

_____

The album release date was finally here and you aren't sure you slept a wink. You were a bundle of nerves and excitement. You loved him and always enjoyed chatting together. This was exciting. But also these songs are so personal. This is a big moment. This was a big plan. And why did he want your address anyway?

~~~~~

Meanwhile at Pedro's place, he was just as nervous. He had started out excited, but then he got into his head. His plans for the evening started feeling too romantic. He didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He liked you, but he didn't want to push it. Maybe he was showing too many feelings towards you. You love someone else, and him not respecting that is rude. All you want is a friend and he's just going to seem like another one of those creepy guys trying to get into your pants.

But it was too late now, the plans were in motion, and maybe you'd enjoy it. Who knows. Either way, he loved your friendship, and friends could do this kind of thing for each other… right??

~~~~~

Throughout the day, you paced your house before finally leaving with Skipper in tow. "We gotta get some air, buddy. I'm losing it over here," you said while clipping his leash.

Stepping out of the house, you two went for a long walk, circled back toward home, and plopped down on your lawn. The house still felt too small in preparation for this evening, whatever it was. Why does it feel different anyway? It's just another phone call..? Unless….

Truth be told, while Pedro had his secret plans, you also had some of your own. Whether you followed through with them or not was up to your nerves.

After some sunbathing with your pup, you both head inside. The sun was starting to set, and you realized it was getting closer to the meetup time you chose with Pedro.

_____

6 PM.

You stared at the TV, not really absorbing anything on the screen, but needing a distraction. This afternoon you opted for a show that Pedro was not in. For once, you needed to not see his handsome face. You needed something else. Half paying attention while picking at a hangnail, you jump out of your skin at the sight of your phone lighting up. Pedro texted.

"Picking out my outfit for tonight! Always important to look nice for celebration."

Shit… he's not coming over is he?! That's why he wanted my address?!

"Wait…" you pondered how to phrase your question without sounding like a panicked asshole, when all you wanted to say was "what the fuck do you MEAN!?!"

I'm not dressed. I'm in sweats and covered in dog hair. I don't have makeup on. Oh no.

"Wait… is that why you wanted my address?"

"Oh. Nooo, no no. No, sweet girl, don't worry. I'm not coming over unexpectedly and interrupting your hiding place. I just think it's still important to dress nice."

"Oh..Okay.."

It was around 6:15 when he texted a picture of himself wearing a white button up with a dark blue suit and matching tie. He wore dark-frame glasses and his hair was slightly tamed, but still showed his messy curls. He looked gorgeous.

But as you scanned his body you noticed that instead of dress shoes, he wore a pair of polka dot socks. He had a goofy grin and his one eyebrow was cocked. You grinned.

"All dressed up and nowhere to go," he said.

"You're a goof, P. But I appreciate the effort."

A pause.

"Also, you look really handsome" you nervously hit send before you had a chance to chicken out.

Bold. Probably shouldn't have said that. But hey, friends compliment each other.

"Why thank you. A big accomplishment like this requires all the stops."

He timed this message right to the minute. As you read his text, your doorbell rang.

You opened the door to find two boxes. One large, one small. A delivery boy was getting into his car. 

"Delivery from your biggest fan. 

-❤️, P"

He… he sent me some kind of care package?? And put a heart? And said he's my biggest fan?

You squealed and carried the boxes into the house. "What's this!?" You texted Pedro.

"Open them and see!"

You immediately open them. Inside the larger box was a variety of items. The first thing you noticed was a small vase holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. To the right of that was a bag, which you opened and found your favorite meal, from your favorite restaurant. 

Wow, this is elaborate. 

Below the food was another small bag holding your favorite dessert, and finally to the left, your favorite drink.

I can't believe he remembered all of my favorite things.. This is so thoughtful.

When you moved the flower vase, you noticed one more small item. Is that a… corsage?? You texted Pedro the question.

"Yep!" He sent, with a photo of a matching flower on his lapel.

Remembering you still had the small box, you opened the box flaps, wondering what could possibly be left for him to give you. On top of it was another note.

"For a handsome boy.

- ❤️, your mom's friend, Pedro"

Under the note was a jar of peanut butter, a squeaky anchor toy, and…? What's this?

You unwrap a small paper wrapping to find a dog-sized black bowtie. Shut up.

"SKIPPER!!! Look what Pedro gave you, buddy!"

He padded over to you and let you hook the dressy accessory around his neck. With the clip adjusted, he sat back, looking proud of his new fashion. You quickly snapped a picture and texted it to Pedro.

"I can't believe you did all this, Pedro. Not only did you send all this, but you remembered my favorite things? You remembered all the details from when I first met Skipper. My favorite food, dessert, drink, and flower? That's so sweet, this is all too much Pedro..  Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I.. I don't even know what to say."

You're amazing and I love you. Is what I want to say.

"You're welcome." He texted back. "Like I said, you deserve a celebration. Plus…"

Pedro sent a photo of his table, set up with the same food and drink, with the caption "now it's like we're having a dinner party."

It was nearing the time to meet, but you still had to do one more thing. You had pondered it earlier in the day, but fully decided it when Pedro sent the photo of himself dressed up. It's now or never.

_____

6:45 PM.

Pedro sat waiting for a reply after he sent his dinner photo. It had only been a couple minutes, but his hands were sweaty and his leg was shaking under the table. Finally, his phone went off. You sent… a video?

He opened it and pressed play. There, he saw you rotating your wrist with the corsage on it. The first time he's ever seen your wrist, hand, or arm before. The first time he's even seen your skin tone.

Geez you act like you're in the Victorian ages, pull yourself together, he rolled his eyes at himself for being so overjoyed.

Next, the video panned to Skipper in his bowtie, looking handsome as ever. The camera zoomed in on him and he looked up into the view with his big brown eyes. 

And then…

The camera panned to the side, and showed a mirror. A full length mirror, where you stood. He scanned your body from your perfectly done up hair and makeup, down your body to your dress. You wore your favorite dress, (in your favorite color, he noted) which showed off your body in the best ways. He looked down to the floor and noticed that you too were wearing fun socks instead of shoes. You wore a pair of striped socks and wrote in your caption "all dressed up and nowhere to go."

His heart picked up and he could feel himself breathing unevenly. He finally saw you. And you were gorgeous. He couldn't help the smile that enveloped his face.

Fuck. She's beautiful… I'm screwed. 

She loves someone else. She loves someone else. She loves someone else. Forget your feelings.

Despite his struggle, he knew he wanted, and needed, to tell you how beautiful he thought you looked. This was a big step to show yourself, and he also knew how self-conscious you felt about your body.

"Wow, you're so beautiful."

You blushed, replying with a quick thank you with a heart, then sending a second message asking if he was ready to listen. The video wasn't the only trick you had planned up your sleeve tonight.

______

The clock turned to 7 PM and Pedro hit the dial for your number. You answered the phone and said a quick "hang on" to set up the shared listening party link for your album. Once sent, you took a deep breath and steadied your nerves. Then, you took the plunge.

"Okay I got the link! I'm so exci - what - wait, is this an accident?" Pedro's hand fumbled as he received your incoming video chat request, his heart picking up to a galloping pace.

"Nope! You can answer it. If you want.."

He quickly swiped the accept button and there you were. Clad in your favorite dress, sitting at a table with the meal he sent in front of you. He could see himself in the corner square, dressed in his suit, with nearly the identical table setup and food.

He couldn't help but notice on his own video screen that his cheeks were turning rosy and his mouth curled into a large smile. But he was too happy to be shy about his blush.

"So this is you," he said.

"This is me," you replied shyly, but still with a huge smile and blush plastered on your face, matching Pedro's.

"You look.." he sighed shakily "..wow.."

"You look pretty wow yourself there," you said with a shy giggle.

Both of you let out gentle laughs, feeling a warm glow as your stomachs felt matching butterflies of nerves, excitement, and… maybe something else.

"So should we listen, I guess?" You asked nervously.

He didn't answer. He was looking at the screen, eyes scanning the video. 

Is he blushing? You wondered. But why would he be? He doesn't like me back… right?

He still hadn't answered you when you finally said "Pedro?? Did you hear me?"

He snapped out of it, somehow turning more crimson. "Oh! Sorry… yeah! Let's listen."

Your nerves were off the charts. Some of these songs were so vulnerable. The ones at the end of the album were the most telling of all.

But as the two of you ate your dinners while listening to your new album, you began to relax. The night was filled with him giving praise and you giving background information on the meanings and production of the songs. 

"Are all the different instruments and harmonies played by you?"

"They are! The studio offered studio musicians but I had originally played them all when I wrote it and wanted to keep it a one woman show."

"You're incredible," Pedro said, shaking his head.

You blushed, for the billionth time today.

When it came to "Imaginary Love" Pedro grinned. "Hey I know this one! The one that started it all." 

"Yep!" You agreed and he began lip syncing to the lyrics dramatically. Little did he know, those lyrics were actually about him. You giggled as he acted out a soulful rendition of the chorus.

"You know, this whole journey has been a real rollercoaster and there have been times I've wished I hadn't posted that song..."

Pedro looked at you with that puppy dog look of his and you continued "but then I remember… that if I never posted it, I would've never started talking to you, and it makes it all worth it."

Pedro placed his hand on his heart and pouted his lip. "I agree. I'm glad to have met you. If I didn't love this song already, that alone would be enough reason for me to consider it one of my favorites.

You grinned and looked down at the table, suddenly feeling shy. The two of you continued to listen, having long finished your dinner. Conversation flowed easily, and you couldn't help but feel like you were on a date. Not that you had much experience with that, but from what you'd seen in movies and shows, this felt very date-like. And you didn't want it to end.

But as the album went on, you approached the last two songs. The ones you were scared of most. The most vulnerable of the album. 

The second to last began to play.

'It's hard to imagine craving something that I've never had.

Dumb to be so desperate for something I've gone without.

But when I'm alone and thinking to myself, I need it so bad.

I crave it like a drug, but one I know nothing about.

Your kiss on my lips, or any kiss at all.

It hasn't happened yet, no matter how hard I fall.

The years keep passing, but still no love.

The years go by, but still no kisses.

I keep wondering and praying up above,

I guess I'm unkissable, despite my wishes.'

Pedro furrowed his brow, looking at you, searching for something. He read the title of the song, "Unkissable," and looked up again, opening and closing his mouth to find the right words.

"Do-" he stopped himself and pondered his wording again. "Is- are all these songs true?"

You stared at the table, picking your nail against the wood. "Yes."

"You really believe that?"

"... I mean… I don't know… maybe… I guess…" you avoided his gaze, but could feel it.

"And you've never-"

"Kissed anyone before? No. I haven't."

"But you've wanted to?"

"Yes," you whispered, starting to feel tears prick at your eyes.

Pedro shifted his lips to the side in thought before finally saying "well… you're still young. It'll happen."

"I'm 26, Pedro. Most people have kissed by the time they've graduated high school. I just… missed the boat I guess. It's okay. I'm just being silly. I don't want it that bad. We can maybe listen to something else now."

"Hey, hey. Don't shut down on me," he asked pleadingly. "26 is still very young, and don't worry about whenever everyone else has done things. Everyone does things at their own pace. I'm sorry you haven't experienced it yet, especially when you want it so badly, but I know that when it does happen, it'll probably be better than any kiss you would've had with some 15 year old boy you would've had in high school."

You laughed, breaking your tears for a minute. "Thanks Pedro."

"Of course. And hey, don't think of yourself as unkissable. Any guy should be so lucky to be with you. Maybe the guy you wrote about in your song will be your first."

"Maybe… I hope so. Thank you."

While your heart bloomed at the kind words and prospect of maybe kissing Pedro in the future, Pedro's heart began to ache. Not only was he sad for you when you wanted love so desperately, but he also couldn't help but feel sad hearing you want to kiss another man. He wants to be that guy for you. He wasn't joking when he said any man would be lucky. But especially knowing now your true age, 22 years younger than him, he knew for sure your crush couldn't be him. You were way too young to be interested in a 48 year old man. He was silly for even entertaining the idea.

But at least he had a new friend. And as he thought longer, he thought about his best friend Sarah, and her relationship. They have a huge age gap, 32 years, but they're happy. And he's happy for her. It doesn't feel weird with them. Could he have that with you? Or is he in over his head?

The last song on the album began to play. This one was less vulnerable, but if he decided to look at the lyrics and notice patterns, he'd see it in the chorus. 

'People have a lot to say

Everyone loves or hates me

Don't know what I did today

Right now you're all I can see

Only want to be with you.

Please, love me too.'

You're sure the obsessive listeners will figure out the acrostic, and if Pedro looks up the lyrics, he might too. But either way, it's out there. All you can do is hope for the best and eventually you're sure it'll come out anyway.

 This wasn't one you were sure about putting on the album, but when the studio read through your personal songbook, they went insane over it. They figured it out quickly, and they promised they'd keep it to themselves. Luckily they have so far, but if money came calling, you think they'd sell your heart faster than you could say no.

The song, and album, came to a close and Pedro looked up at the screen once again, staring into your eyes. "Once again your music has blown me away."

Whether he put together the end or not, he wasn't letting on.

"Thank you Pedro. I really appreciate it. And thank you for tonight. It was truly special and I mean it when I say it's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You didn't have to go through all that trouble," you said thoughtfully.

"It was no trouble. You deserve congratulations for your album," Pedro replied with a smile.

Right.. it's just a congratulations. Nothing else. You sighed.

"Thank you. I'm really glad we did this. Talk again soon?" You asked.

"Absolutely. It was wonderful to meet you finally," Pedro said, finishing the sentence with your real name and smiling.

"It was great to meet you too, Pedro."

__________

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading.

Looking for more? Next chapter!

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibleywrites @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal x y/n #rpf #key to your heart

[sunkissed-zegras]

✮ 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝟐'𝐬, jump then fall au!

au masterlist! masterlist!

♡ ─ word count | 1.9k

♡ ─ summary | a week into cece being the fantilli's official nanny, paloma is going through the terrible two tantrums and adam doesn't know how to deal with it.

♡ ─ warnings | unedited, fluff, anxiety, toddler tantrums (ofc), mentions of being tired, idk ?? nothing else!

♡ ─ taglist | @literatureluster @itsnotgray (fill in form in my navigation in you are interested!)

♡ ─ ev's notes | aaaaa this series is finally in full swing, i am so excited. ALSOOO PLEASE SEND IN ANY THOUGHTS U HAVE WITH THIS AU, i love when yall have your own little headcanons it literally makes my day. also, how would u guys like this to be formatted? like chapters or like.. something else??? idk but anyways, ily u all and enjoy this fic!!!!!

Adam rambled on nervously about Paloma's snack for about the fifth time as Cece followed him into the kitchen, nodding along to every word he was saying. She knew he was nervous to leave Paloma alone so she tried her best to seem interested even though he's repeated the same thing for what seemed like the millionth time.

As Adam rambled on, he suddenly stopped mid-sentence, an embarrassed flush creeping onto his cheeks. He realized he had been repeating himself, and Cece had been patiently listening the whole time.

"Sorry," he chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I'm just a bit on edge with leaving Paloma alone. I want everything to be perfect for her."

Cece shook her head in understanding, "No don't even apologize! I appreciate it, I do tend to forget about stuff. And I get it, the first time is always the hardest."

Adam sighed, feeling grateful for her understanding. "Thanks, Cece. I know I can be a bit... overprotective sometimes."

"It's a good quality, especially when it comes to being a dad," she replied warmly. "I get it, I go crazy for my little brother. I'm pretty sure I would commit a crime for him," you joked playfully.

Adam chuckled, the tension in the room easing as he appreciated Cece's sense of humor. "Yeah, me too. Paloma is my world, and I'd do anything to make sure she's safe and happy."

Cece smiled warmly, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "I can tell you're a great dad, Adam. Paloma is lucky to have you." Her smile carried her feelings and she saw herself in Adam as he talked about Paloma. She was the same with her brother and her little nephew and niece.

His expression softened, and he returned the smile. "Thanks, Cece. That means a lot."

Comfort silence filled the kitchen before Adam got a phone call and cursed under his breath, "Shit, I'm late."

Cece watched as Adam's expression shifted from one of warmth to a sudden realization that he was running late. She could sense the urgency in his voice as he cursed softly.

"I gotta get going but call me if anything happens. And if I don't answer, call Luca or mom. Oh, you don't have my mom's number, let me give it to you in case-"

Cece let out a soft laugh as she put a hand on his shoulder in comfort, "It's fine, Adam. Don't worry I'm sure I'll get a hold of you, alright? Just relax and get to your meeting in one piece."

He took a breath and then laughed along with her, even though there was still some anxiety running through his veins. He nodded, "Alright, sorry about that, you're right." This was part of the process, it would be okay.

"Don't apologize, you're okay." Cece still had an understanding expression on her face as Adam took another deep breath before walking to the door and taking his keys.

"Alright, I'll see you in a couple hours. Paloma's sleeping right now but you remember-" He saw her expression and then let out an anxious sigh before nodding. "You got it?"

"I got it, boss." You joked playfully as he smiled. "Bye,"

"Bye." He took one more look around his apartment before leaving the apartment.

As Adam left for his meeting, Cece stood in the doorway, watching him until he disappeared from view. She then turned her attention back to the apartment, a newfound sense of responsibility settling in her heart. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to check on Paloma, who was still peacefully sleeping in her room.

The apartment was quiet, save for the gentle sounds of Paloma's breathing. Cece couldn't help but smile as she looked down at the sleeping toddler.

──

A FEW WEEKS LATER

──

Adam walked into the apartment after a long and grueling practice, his body feeling the weight of exhaustion. The familiar scent of home welcomed him as he closed the door behind him. He let out a sigh of relief, glad to be back in the comfort of his own space.

He entered the living room, he noticed the soft glow of dimmed lights and the sound of gentle music playing in the background. It was a scene he had grown accustomed to since Cece had become a part of their lives.

He made his way to the kitchen, where he found Cece cleaning Paloma's dishes. She looked up and smiled warmly when she saw him. "Hey, Adam. How was practice?"

She could tell he was tired, he has been for the entirety of the week. She respected how hard he worked at practice and how he still had energy for Paloma, even after an exhausting practice.

Adam stretched his tired muscles and replied, "Long and exhausting, per usual, but it's done. How's Paloma?"

Cece's smile widened. "She's been an sweetheart. We played and watched a Barbie movie, had dinner, now she's asleep in bed."

Adam felt a sense of relief wash over him. He had been anxious about leaving Paloma in someone else's care, but seeing how well Cece was handling everything put his mind at ease. Right as he was about to respond, the familiar cry of Paloma rang through the apartment.

Cece, out of habit, immediately dropped the dishes into the sink and walked out of the kitchen before Adam spoke, "Cece, it's fine. Let me go see what's up."

"Oh, alright-"

This had been a problem for the past week, Paloma throwing tantrums right after being put to sleep. Adam had tried everything he could think of to soothe her, but nothing seemed to work.

He made his way to Paloma's bedroom and found her sitting up in her crib, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked softly as he lifted her into his arms.

Paloma clung to him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she continued to cry.

Adam's heart broke at his daughter's cries. He held her close and whispered soothingly, "It's okay, Paloma. Daddy's here, and you're okay." His arms were sore from practice but he couldn't get himself to leave her as she continued to cry loudly.

He gently rocked her back and forth, his heart aching as he tried to comfort her. Paloma's cries gradually subsided, and she nestled against his chest, her breathing slowly evening out. He didn't want to put her back in the crib because he didn't want to her wake up again and cry, so he stayed like that for a few seconds even if he was exhausted.

Cece walked in quietly and Adam put his finger on his finger to singal to be quiet. Paloma made a soft noise and Adam let out a sigh of exhaustion but to his surprise, she didn't start crying again as she saw Cece.

Instead, she sat up in Adam's arms and reached out to Cece, making a soft, wanting sound. Cece couldn't help but let out a laugh, her heart warmed by the sight of Paloma's tiny outstretched arms.

Adam slowly gave Paloma to Cece and she immediately held onto her, putting her head on her shoulder and her eyes immediately shut.

Adam watched with a mixture of relief and admiration as Paloma snuggled into Cece's arms, her cries now fully replaced by contentment. He had been worried about leaving her alone with the Cece, but this moment reassured him that he had made the right choice.

Cece held Paloma gently, her heart melting at the trust Paloma was placing in her. She swayed softly, creating a soothing rhythm that seemed to lull Paloma back into a peaceful slumber.

Adam couldn't help but smile at the sight. His daughter was finally finding comfort and security in the presence of another person. He made a gesture to the door to silently say he was going to leave and Cece gave him a sweet smile and a thumbs up with her free hand. As he left the room, his heart swelled at the new memory. He felt himself get used to Cece and Paloma together, it was a new welcome sight.

After he took a shower, he walked into the kitchen and he heard Paloma's bedroom door open quietly and then he turned to see Cece. She caught his gaze and smiled before walking up to him.

Adam felt comfortable as he saw Cece approaching him from the hallway. There was something comforting about her presence, something that put him at ease. He couldn't help but return her smile with a warm one of his own.

"Hey," she greeted softly, her voice carrying a sense of warmth and ease. "Paloma is back to sleep. I think she just needed a little reassurance."

"Good, I'm glad. Hopefully she sleeps the whole night." Adam sighed and he still sounded tired after his shower. You couldn't help but feel bad for him, you knew how much sports and a career could take a toll on a person. She couldn't even imagine on top of all of that, having a toddler to take care of. "And thanks, Cece. You're great with her."

She waved off his gratitude. "It's my pleasure, Adam. I enjoy spending time with her, she's such a sweet girl and she makes my job so much easier."

He nodded in agreement as he listened to her compliment. "She can be handful sometimes, but she's the best thing that's ever happened to me." There was a softness in his eyes as he spoke about his daughter, a deep love that was evident in every word.

Cece smiled warmly, her heart warmed by the genuine affection Adam had for Paloma. "It's clear how much you love her, Adam. It's beautiful to see."

Adam's gaze met hers, and for a moment, time seemed to slow down as they shared a silent connection. There was something about Cece that drew him in, something he couldn't quite put into words. He immediately internally yelled at himself, he couldn't ─ not with his nanny.

He cleared his throat, breaking the momentary silence. "Well, I'm glad you're here," he admitted, his eyes still fixed on her. "It's nice to have some company too."

Cece's smile brightened, and she took a step closer to him. "I'm here whenever you need me, Adam. For both of you." Her eyes widened as Adam looked back at her and she suddenly felt self-conscious. "Like, in a friend way. Of course," she laughed nervously.

Adam couldn't help but notice the sudden shift in Cece's demeanor, and he couldn't help but chuckle softly at her nervous laughter. He appreciated the clarification, even though part of him was tempted to explore where that unspoken connection might lead to.

"Of course, Cece," he replied with a warm smile. "Well, you're my first official friend in Ohio. Well, other than the team."

She returned the smile, "I'm honored, Adam." She laughed at that and he joined in a second later. The laughter filled the kitchen before she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

"Oh shoot, I gotta get going. I have to pick up my friend,"

"No problem, Cece," Adam replied, his smile still lingering. "Thanks for taking care of Paloma tonight. And get home safe, text me when you get home." He wanted to self-palm himself after that one but Cece just smiled warmly at that, making all the anxiety melt away.

"I will, thank you. See you Monday," Cece replied, her warm smile making Adam's heart skip a beat. She waved goodbye before leaving, leaving Adam alone in the kitchen with a new sense of warmth and connection he hadn't felt in a while.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#jump then fall au #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #nhl oneshot #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey boys #ice hockey #hockey stuff #umich hockey #nhl hockey #nhl smut #nhl angst #adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli #adam fantilli imagines #adam fantilli smut #gavin brindley #rutger mcgroarty #johnny druskinis #umich #luca fantilli #umich fic #umich imagine #umich boys #umich wolverines

[boybandposter]

☾ “Paint me the Moon“ - Larry Johnson

prompt: It’s your seventeenth birthday, and Larry wants to give you a gift

warnings: none ! pure fluff ♥︎

word count: 1.6K

🫧𓇼𓏲*��✩‧₊˚🎐

A gentle plume of smoke spilled from your lips as you leaned further back into the couch. After a full day of partying with Ashley, Sal, and Larry, you four finally got to unwind at your apartment. Sadly, your parents were still gone due to business— promising to make up for it once they returned. Just another common occurrence, but you didn’t mind. It made it easier to have everyone over to just hang out anyways.

You took another drag of your blunt before speaking, “Being seventeen is great and all, but it’s just another year of high school.” You sighed and looked up at the ceiling with a lax smile. You heard Ash and Larry chuckle, and Larry crossed his legs over your lap.

“Just drop out, dumbass. You could always do pole dancing like you joke around abo—“ Larry couldn’t even finish his sentence before you threw a decorative pillow at his face.

“Come on, you know those are jokes. Kinda. Maybe.” You kept changing your words and passed the rest of your joint to Sal, who sat quietly on the ottoman. He was more talkative earlier, but it was getting late and it had been a long day.

As if on queue, Ashley stood from the floor and stretched, a small crack coming from her back. You hadn’t noticed, but she shot Sally a look as if indicating some secret message. “Well, I dunno about you guys, but I’m beat.” She talked as she picked up a bit of the mess, which wasn’t too much of a hassle. Sal stood up as well and ran his hair through his blue locks.

“Same, and I gotta feed Gizmo. When we stopped at my apartment my dad was out, so I can only assume he still is.” His voice was slightly muffled by his prosthetic as he spoke, and he trudged over to where you sat. Sal grabbed your hands and pulled you up into a tight hug. He wished you happy birthday for the millionth time, telling you how grateful he was for you and that he wanted you to trip and eat grass (you had shoved him earlier at the lake and he nearly did the same).

You laughed and pulled away from his arms and was quickly met by Ashley’s embrace, where she nearly squished the life from your frame, spouting quick words of ‘I love you so much’ and ‘happy birthday’. Ash planted a quick kiss on your cheek and looked at Larry, who still sat on the couch lazily. Soon after, it was just you and Larry at your apartment. It wasn’t uncommon by any means— almost every other time all four of you hung out, Larry stayed behind to keep you company. Or you two would simply hang out with each other when the other two were busy.

You nestled back to your spot on the couch and put your own legs above Larry this time, his large palm resting on top of your shin. You could’ve sworn that for a split second, Larry ran his thumb back and forth, but you had smoked a little so you ignored it. But what really threw you off was that he was just… staring. His brown eyes reached into your soul, at least that’s what it felt like. After what felt like an hour, he chuckled and leaned his head back against the headrest.

“Sorry I had spaced out, I was just thinking.”

“You? Think? I don’t think so.” Your laugh was cut short as he pinched your ankle, making you squeal and flinch. “Sorry, sorry! It was too good to pass up. And you definitely set yourself up for that one.”

Larry rolled his eyes and sighed with a soft smile on his face. He almost looked ethereal in the dimly lit room, and you had to shake yourself mentally to avoid staring… again. “I was going to give you a little something for your big day, but maybe you don’t want it after all.” He admitted with a shrug and a simple tilt of his head.

“What?! C’mon, now I’m curious! You never give gifts, so please? I’ll be super nice this time!” You pleaded with him, but the grin on your face contradicted your words. Your hands mimicked a praying motion as you sat up on the couch. your mind raced with thoughts and ideas of what he could’ve brought. Whatever it was, you were bound to cherish it forever and you knew you were going to write this moment down in your journal later.

Larry stood up from the cushions and pulled his long hair into a loose bun that hung at the nape of his neck. “You better behave then. And close your eyes, y/n. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, would we now?”

You immediately complied and placed your hands over your eyes. All you could do was listen as he shuffled around the room, but you knew it was pointless. A comfortable silence filled the room, until Larry broke it with a heavy exhale. “Alright, I guess you can take a look now.”

“You guess? What do you…” You trailed off as you removed your hands, ad you were met face-to-face with the most gorgeous portrait of yourself. Your eyes scanned and admired every minuscule detail, from the way your hair had clung to your skin to the wrinkles of your smile. Not a single word escaped your tongue.

Tears slowly trailed down your cheeks unbeknownst to you as you turned to Larry, who looked anxious to his core. His hands opened and closed as he waited for something, anything— He wanted you to hurry and tell him that you hated it, or that he got your face wrong. God, this was making his heart pound like crazy.

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping upwards to meet your gaze.

“Larry… it’s beautiful. I— God, I don’t even know what to say, I…” Your eyes flickered between the painting and the man in front of you.

Larry rubbed the back of his neck and shoved his other hand in his pocket. “Maybe a thank you would work for now?” He chuckled breathlessly and a weight was immediately lifted off his shoulders. But for him, he had one more thing planned out for you. A laugh escaped from your mouth as you wiped the salty tears from your cheeks, shaking your head to try and collect yourself.

The next thing Larry knew, you were wrapping your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. His brain stopped for a moment, any witty comments flying from his thoughts. Without too much waiting, you felt his arms slide around your waist. “I’m glad you like it y/n. I was actually pretty fucking nervous to give it to you.” Larry chuckled in your ear and pulled away just enough to see your face.

You quirked your eyebrow and cocked your head to the side in confusion. Normally Larry wouldn’t have any problem showing you his work. Every time he finished a piece he would invite you over to see it. “Why would you be nervous about it? It’s one of the most beautiful paintings I’ve ever seen from you.” You questioned him innocently, the evident curious tone taking place in your voice.

Larry’s gaze flickered away from yours for a brief moment, “That’s where the second part of my ‘gift’ comes in. That’s really the reason I’m nervous.” He explained with a deep exhale. You couldn’t help but notice how tense he suddenly felt.

“Y/n…. I know I’m not the best person around, that much is obvious. But… can I have the honor of being your boyfriend?” His cheeks flared pink at his quickly spoken question. Both of you sat in a shocked silence but what else were you supposed to do?

Larry couldn’t believe he had actually worked up the guts to ask, and you? You yet again found yourself staring at him with a slacked jaw. Your own cheeks burnt, but you couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that he asked to be your boyfriend. Emotions ran through your body, but the most prominent of them was the sheer and utter joy of it all. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have a crush on Larry, but you always thought it was a hopeless case. But everything is different now. “Are you being serious? Like, this isn’t a joke?”

Larry simply shook his head with a sheepish look plastered on his slender face. Were you that repulsed by the idea of dating him?

You shrieked and found yourself hugged him so hard that he nearly stumbled backwards onto the couch. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh my God, I can’t believe this is actually happening right now!” You giggled and bounced on your toes, your hold on his body never once loosening. Every other gift paled in comparison (except for the painting, that was definitely the second favorite) to his words. “Fuck, I just wanna kiss you right now!” Your eyes widened at your own words and you blankly gazed at him to await his reaction.

Larry’s hands ghosted over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. They stopped to cup your face, his own smile sending butterflies straight to your stomach. “Well, I am your boyfriend now. Go crazy. Please.” Larry whispered the last phrase and you couldn’t even stop yourself from kissing him senseless.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

author’s note: PLEASE I actually love Larry so much it makes my head hurt. I was going to make it a little longer but it didn’t happen🗿

#florence writes ! #larry johnson #larry johnson x reader #larry johnson x you #sally face fanfics #larry johnson x fem!reader #fanfic #x reader #writing #requests open #reqs open #larry johnson x y/n

[shieldofiron]

Set You Free

Threw this up on Ao3 too

It sounds like a joke. That thing was in his head, speaking in that stilted voice and once it was gone Billy couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop fucking talking, partially because he was scared that it would turn into the wrong voice, partially because he almost couldn’t believe he had survived.

“I don’t want him here, he hits me,” He told the nurse when his dad came to visit.

And just like that they’d barred his dad from the hospital.

Max had come by with her little boyfriends and he’d talked their ears off, half crying, about the year before, about the monster, making no fucking sense, until the littlest one with the creepy haunted doll look sat beside his bed and patted his hand.

He just couldn’t stop talking, but he had to because Harrington was apparently visiting today with his girlfriend or something.

And so he sat silently as Harrington rambled on about the mall, about some freako sounding Russians and fireworks.

“Anyway. I guess what I mean is I’m sorry, cuz I hit you with that car. And if Mike hadn’t pushed you out of the way you’d be dead, and… I’m real sorry, Hargrove,” Harrington said, “For all of it. Mike and Will are like obsessed with telling me how you saved all of us so, I just wanted you to know that… thank you. And I’m sorry.”

Billy nodded, glancing over at the girl who hadn’t said a peep.

“So you forgive me?” Harrington glanced up with those pretty puppy dog eyes.

Billy nodded again, biting his tongue.

“Great!” Harrington nodded, “I’ll go down and get us some coffee or something, and then we can all catch up. Robin, coffee?”

“Black,” Robin nodded, “And get something that won’t make Billy hurl chunks, please.”

“Got it… uh… ginger ale?” Harrington looked at him.

“Just water. I’m missing like ten miles of intestine or some shit,” Billy grumbled.

Harrington blinked, startled, “Right.”

He left with a few of those kicked puppy dog glances, and then Billy was alone with the girlfriend. Robin. The thing is he kind of liked her before she became Steve’s girlfriend.

“I liked you too. And I’m not, by the way,” She folds her hands in her lap, “Steve’s girlfriend.”

Stupid talking thing.

“You’re kind of interesting, Billy Hargrove,” She smiled, and then she frowned.

They just kind of stared at each other, until sweat started to form on his brow.

“Don’t tell him I’m gay,” He blurted out at last.

He knew it, she knew it. Caught him and Tommy having a… moment under the bleachers a million years ago. Billy used to see big poufy band geek uniforms in his nightmares for weeks, but she never said anything.

“I wouldn’t,” She shook her head.

“But I might,” Billy growled, “You gotta keep him away from me, girlfriend or no.”

“Why?” She wrinkled her nose.

“I’m… gay?” He almost scoffed. What was she not getting?

“Okay. Again. Why would Steve have to keep away from you?”

“It’s fucking… wrong. Wrong to have feelings for him. Disgusting pervert shit ok,” Billy frowned, “I told Max he shouldn’t come.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong.”

Billy bit his lip so hard he thought he might draw blood.

“The kids too. Everyone should just stay away.”

“Even me?” She shuffled in her seat, “Is it dangerous for me?”

He glanced at her, not sure what she was saying. Why didn’t people just say what they meant?

“Listen, I don’t really know what happened to you, but I think you staying away from everyone and everything is kind of what got you into this shit in the first place,” She shrugged. “Just sayin’”

“That’s not why it happened,” Billy muttered.

“Then what happened?”

“I was… trying,” Billy’s throat felt right but he pushed through it, “To be normal. And it didn’t work, because I’m fucked.”

“I don’t think you’re fucked. And I don’t think…” Robin scooted forward, taking his hand, “Look. I don’t think you’re evil or anything.”

“I killed people and I have a gay crush on your friend.”

“Okay, that fucking thing killed people and people get fucking crushes every day,” She shook her head. “It’s not a crime.”

“It kind of is.”

“Only to cops,” She rolled her eyes.

He exhaled, “fine. I still kind of like you.”

“Same to you, Billy Hargrove,” She patted his arm, “just remember. The truth will set you free. Maybe Steve won’t think you’re evil either, you know.”

Billy was about to answer when Harrington swung into the door, “The nurses said you could have one of these dinner rolls too.”

“Course you fucking charmed the nurses,” Billy grumbled, “They fucking hate me.”

Harrington just laughed, gamboling in like a happy puppy and setting up Billy’s table.

“The truth,” Robin mouthed over a fluffy cloud of brown hair, “Will set you free.”

#just a lil ficlet for fun #Robin & Billy #besties forever #billy hargrove #robin buckley #steve harrington #harringrove #shieldofiron #my writing #idk just rambling

[neverinadream]

I P I C T U R E M Y F U T U R E W I T H Y O U

Summary: Your first trip to Jupiter has you and Christian discussing a future you could enjoy together.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes & Yes

Song Inspo: Share Your Address - Ben Platt

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, fluff, boyfriend!christian, archaeologists!reader (self indulgent because HISTORY), dom!christian, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl...), praise kink, degradation kink, public sex, boat sex (???), hair pulling, slight choking, teasing, begging, thigh riding, oral (female receiving), fingering, checking in, aftercare, talks of marriage, talks of the future, the reader comes from a big family (that's my own self indulgent right there, sorry), not proofread

Notes: so this essentially could act as like a prequel of sorts to my dad!christian piece (which can be found here). also, the smut was going to be a lot longer but unfortunately i could get it to flow right, so i ultimately gave up on adding more. feedback is always appreciated, like please it let's me know if i'm doing it right. the end is clunky, i know, you don't have to tell me. anyway, enjoy!!

With one hand left on the wheel, the other creeps around your waist, his fingers hooking around a belt loop to pull you close. A giggle pushes past your lips as you shake your head. "Two hands on the wheel, perhaps?" You suggest, feeling his hand slip inside the back pocket of your denim shorts.

He casts his eyes in your direction, the ghost of a grin printed on his lips and a playful glint in his eyes. "My hands are right where they need to be," he replies, chuckling as he catches you rolling your eyes. You mumble something under your breath about him being cheesy, but he doesn't quite catch it. He's too distracted by his wandering eyes.

"Eh, eyes front and centre, buddy," you jab your finger softly into his side, causing a low 'oof' sound to fall off his lips. He had been taking not-so-subtle glances at your chest since you had changed into the bikini. It was a new piece purposely purchased for your first time staying at his place in Jupiter, so seeing you for the first time in this new cobalt blue set was driving him crazy. He wanted his hands on every single part of you. "I don't want my first time on a boat to end with us capsizing because you've got the hormones of a teenage boy who has just discovered the ancient art of wanking," you joke, shaking your head.

"Oh, I love it when you speak dirty to me," he counters, chuckling once more as you give him a not-so-amused stare.

He sighs happily. This was all he had wanted since the start of your relationship a little over a year ago. You and him, together, in a place that made him happy. He wanted to bring you to Jupiter on his last summer break, but you were hesitant about meeting his parents and the rest of his family so early into your relationship. Amd he respected that. But now his family loved you; you were close with his sister, his brother asked more questions about what you were up to than he cared to ask about Christian, and his parents regarded you as one of the family. He almost didn't like how well you got on with his dad, mainly because he was the target of many, many jokes.

"What's today's 'Fact of the Day'?" Christian asks, pulling you even closer to his side.

"Let's see," you hum, leaning your head against him. 'Fact of the Day' was something Christian had come up with. It was a way for him to learn something new and exciting daily. "Christopher Columbus probably wasn't at fault for introducing syphilis to Europe," you tell him, peering up to see him looking a little bewildered, "you know, the guy who supposedly first discovered the Americas."

"What do you mean supposedly?" He quickly asks, frowning as he quickly glances down at you. "I thought he was the guy who discovered the New World?"

"Well, technically, it is now believed that Vikings had landed on American shores long before Columbus ever did," you explain to him, placing a chaste kiss against the side of his chest, "but back to syphilis, so shortly after 1493, when Columbus and his crew sailed back to Spain, there was an epidemic all across Europe, with many historians and archaeologists buying into the Columbian theory, that Columbus and his crew were to blame for this outbreak. And the evidence for this theory comes from the bone lesions believed to be a result of Treponemal diseases like syphilis found on the skeletons of Native Americans who had died before Columbus's arrival."

Christian tried to follow along as best as he could. He learnt quickly that you tended to get excited talking about all things historical, often speaking at a pace that was sometimes hard to keep up with. One minute you could be rambling about one topic, and whilst he was just getting to grips with that first topic, you could've already moved onto a second topic.

"But they weren't to blame?" He asks, aiding you to stay on topic.

"No," he light-heartedly chuckles as you shake your head enthusiastically, "well, not necessarily. More recent studies on skeletal remains, some that are as early as the 14th Century - so before Columbus - have similar lesions on them, which suggests that there were already strains of syphilis in Europe."

"That's it?" He asks, quickly glancing at you, "that's my 'Fact of the Day'?"

"Yep," you pop the p, "that's your 'Fact of the Day'."

He leans over to you and presses a kiss on your cheek. "You look fucking gorgeous, by the way," he whispers into your ear, slipping his hand out of your pocket to cheekily squeeze your bum. You jump a little, gasping as you do. There must have been something in the air because you had never known him to be so handsy. And you were more than well aware that you weren't far enough away for his neighbours not to see. "I always love seeing you in blue," he continues, all movements of the boat ceasing as he takes his hand off the wheel.

"Christian," you warn, checking over your shoulders, but clearly he doesn't seem to mind displaying his affection for anyone to see.

His hands rest on your bum, gripping your cheeks as he pulls you against him. His mouth has found its way onto your neck, kissing you gently and creating a line of small doses of affection from the top of your neck down to where it meets your shoulders. Pulling away, his face hovers in front of yours, his lips within touching distance of yours, just begging to be kissed. A smirk tugs on his lips when he catches you taking glances at his lips, but he leans forward, omitting the teasing for now, and kisses you.

You pull away, whimpering as he latches his lips back against your neck. He was rougher this time, nipping and sucking at your neck and soothing the sting with his tongue. "Chris, people can see us," you give him a second warning as you feel one of his hands slipping between your shorts and your bikini bottoms.

"And?" He mumbles, kissing along your shoulder.

"Christian!" You gasp, not hiding the giggle that rumbled in your throat. This wasn't like Christian at all. "What has gotten into you today?"

"You weren't complaining about it this morning-"

"And this morning, we weren't at the risk of being reported for public indecency," you interrupt him, wiggling in his grasp as you feel his fingers tugging on the string of your bikini, "or probably something worse."

He whines, scrunching his nose up as he hides his face in your shoulder. "It's this bikini, baby," he mumbles, wrapping the end of the string around his finger, "it's driving me crazy." You bite your bottom lip, suppressing another whimper as he leaves another hickey on the base of your neck. You would have a lot to do a lot of work tomorrow to hide these from his parents. "I just want to take it off," he begs, pulling away to look at you, "please, baby?"

"If you think the top looks great, wait til you see the bottoms," you tease him, wrapping your arms around him, "they're so tiny."

"C'mon," he groans, "don't tease me like that."

"Take us somewhere more private, and maybe I'll let you take a peek." You giggle as the excitement lights up his eyes. He was like a kid on Christmas morning, giddy and ready to unwrap his presents. You being his present, that is. "What are you waiting for?" You raise your eyebrow. "This boat isn't going to move itself."

His fingers played with the cobalt blue strings of your bikini bottoms, wrapping and unwrapping the ends of the bows around his fingers, as he listened to you talk about the current book you were reading. It was a piece on the most impactful archaeological discoveries to date, which he knew you would know more about than he ever would. That's what you wanted to be - an archaeologist.

When you first met Christian, you had just graduated with a degree in Archaeology and Anthropology. You were like a breath of fresh air to him in a nightclub stuffy with people who only wanted to get close to him because of his profession. He spent most of the night getting you to talk about your degree and never once did he have to talk about football. And now, over a year later, you had a Master's and would be starting an internship in October.

And Christian couldn't be more proud of you.

"Christian?" You find him staring into space as you turn to look back at him, leaving you uncertain if he was listening to you or not. "Christian?" You repeat his name, giggling as you wave your hand in front of his face. He blinks, giving you a half-smile as his eyes catch yours. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Course I am," he replies, dipping to kiss your shoulder, "you were..." He pauses, squinting his eyes and scrunching up his nose as he tried to remember what you were rambling about. "You were talking about old fruit!" He says a little too loudly, with the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Okay, I'll give you that," you giggle, twisting back to kiss him. In essence, you had been talking about old fruit. You had been talking about the discovery of the remains of fruits, nuts, and meats found in the Colosseum. To you, it was exciting; it told you about the types of snacks attendees would've eaten.

You sigh happily, feeling his chin resting on your shoulder. "You're so smart," he affectionately says, wrapping his arm tighter around you, pulling you closer to his chest. His beard tickles as he nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing over the hickies he had left earlier. "I hope our children are as smart as you," he says, but your neck muffles his words.

"Our children?" You hear him curse under his breath like he shouldn't have said that out loud for you to hear. His arm loosens and eventually releases your waist as he pulls away from you, leaning back in the chair. "Christian?" For a brief moment, you're back on your feet, turning yourself around to face him. But he isn't looking at you. He has his eyes pointed to the ground, with his hands running idly through his hair. "Christian," you hook your fingers under his chin, "what do you mean 'our children'?"

He shakes his head, his cheeks flushing red. "Just forget I said anything."

"Forget it? Baby, that's a hard thing to forget," you tell him, sitting yourself down on his lap, your legs straddling either side of his thighs. Looping your hands around his neck, you brush your thumbs soothingly against his jaw. "You think about having kids with me?" You question him, giving him a small smile as he nods. "How many?"

"Three, just like my parents," he answers almost instantaneously, "but the opposite way around: two girls and a boy." He holds onto your hips, dragging you further up his lap until the end of your knees have hit the backrest and your chest is pressed against his. "I know we've only been together for a year, but these are the things I've been thinking about," he confesses, waiting anxiously for you to say something. Anything. "When I think of the future, I can only picture a future that has you in it."

"And what would their names be?" You ask, still inquiring about the imaginative children he had come up with inside his head.

"Whatever you wanted them to be."

Your cheeks burn with cheerful warmth as you crack a bright smile. Suddenly and all at once, you had fallen in love with him like you were falling in love with him for the first time again. Your grip on the back of his neck tightens, pulling him towards you as you leant forwards to crash your lips upon his. He kisses back, letting a hand drift away from your hips and cradle your face. The love you had for him poured its way into the kiss, leaving you both feeling light-headed and needing to take deep breaths as you pull apart.

"Do you have any idea of how much I love you?" You ask, your cheeks beginning to ache from all the smiling.

"I might do," he chuckles, tracing soft circles against your cheek.

"I'm gonna need more than three kids, though," you lean back, letting your hands drift onto his shoulders and down onto his biceps. He gives you a look that says, 'oh yeah?' "Of course," you nod your head, "I'm one of seven, remember?" Of course, he remembered. He almost didn't believe you; the thought of you having four brothers to impress and two sisters to win over frightened him. But luckily, they love him. He surprisingly fitted in with your often hetic family. "I want a house full of little ones."

"You're not joking, right?" He asks, a flicker of doubt plaguing his happiness.

"You said it yourself, Christian; I can only picture a future that has you in it," you reply, kissing both of his cheeks, "it just took for you to say it for me to see the picture clearly."

He hooks his fingers under your chin, beckoning you closer, mumbling, "come here," as he leans in to kiss you. You gave into the kiss, whimpering against him as you felt his tongue gently exploring your mouth. The two of you become glued together, melting into the other's embrace and desperately clinging to the other simultaneously. But he's the first to pull away, with a chest heavy considerably to help him catch his breath.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he says breathlessly, admiring your face and body as he leans back. His arm extends to touch you, tracing his fingers gently between your breasts and down the centre of your stomach, stopping below your belly button. His touch leaves goosebumps to prickle your skin, making your eyes close as you enjoy the tingling sensation. "How did I get so lucky to find someone so beautiful on the inside and out?"

"It's that bank account of yours," you joke, winking at him, "it's just so attractive." He makes you gasp, grabbing your arse with his free hand and lightly slapping it. It was like a little warning to watch what you were saying. "Come on, you thought I was attracted to you because your eyes look like honey under the lights?" You ask, running your fingers down his chest. "Or because the sun brings out a constellation of freckles across your face? Absolutely not." You scrunch up your nose and shake your head. "Nope, that could never be it."

He chuckles, sitting up as he snakes his hand around your neck, using it to pull you closer to him. "Whatever it is," he mumbles, raking his eyes up and down your chest, "it means I get to have you." A shot of pleasure tingles down your spine as you watch him lick his lips, his eyes pulled down towards your chest once more. "All of you," he speaks in a low voice, "fuck, sweetheart, it's just begging to be taken off."

"Then what are you waiting for?" You cock your brow. "Take. It. Off."

You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne and the traces of the sunscreen you had to fight to put on him this morning as you whimpered against him. He flexes his thigh and pulls you down harder against him, rubbing your throbbing clit against it, aiding you as you roll your hips. "Fuck," you curse, hearing him hiss as you tighten your grip on his biceps, leaving crescent-shaped indents on his skin.

"No, no, sweetheart," his hand wraps around your neck, pushing you away from him, "let me see that pretty face of yours." He smirks, taking in your swollen lips, the hickies on your neck and chest, and eyes darkened by desire. Seeing you like this had his mind racing and his dick twitching. "I didn't tell you to stop, though, did I?" He raises his eyebrow, tapping your hip as an incentive to start moving again. "C'mon, ride my thigh like I know you can," he encourages, aiding you as you resume your previous movements, "keep making a pretty mess on my thigh, baby."

His hand reaches around, grabbing you by your arse, squeezing at your cheeks, and setting a pace he now demands. You whimper his name, but he can barely hear it as it spills from your lips. "Louder, baby," he chuckles, releasing his hand from your neck, "let all of Florida know." His hand drops down to your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipple whilst dipping his head to pay attention to the other. "Let all of Florida know just who's making you feel this good, baby," he encourages, dragging his teeth across your nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue.

Your hand fists in his hair, tugging his curls and gasping his name as he latches his lips around your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud, grinning as you arch your back, trying to push as much of your chest as you possibly could. "Fuck, feels so good,' you whimper, grinding yourself faster against his thigh. It was there - your second orgasm. So close that you could almost touch it. "Close," you manage to tell him, pulling him off your chest and bringing him closer to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and moves against yours, ultimately giving up all control.

He nips at your bottom lip, giving it a gentle tug as he pulls away. "Not yet, baby," he denies you the chance to cum, shaking his head and smirking as you whine. Pressing his finger over your lips, he shushes you, stopping your attempt to defy him. "Stand for me," he instructs, shuffling to sit on the edge of the seat, fixing his shorts as he does so. "God, these really are fucking tiny, aren't they?" He finally removes the matching cobalt blue bikini bottoms, tugging forcefully on the strings and snatching them away from your body.

"I did say so," you mumble, lifting your left foot to rest on the edge of the seat.

"You did, didn't you?" He mumbles, hooking his arm under your thigh. You sigh, rolling your head back a bit as he kisses the inside of your thigh; his beard scratching against you feels nicer than it should. "Come here," he beckons you closer, hot breath hitting your core as he tightens his grip on the top of your thigh, pulling you into him. He hums when he finally tastes you, licking from your dripping entrance to your clit. "Beautiful," he looks up at you, groaning as you look back at him.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling on his curls and moaning as he pays close attention to your clit. He switched between licking it and sucking it, listening closely and smirking every time you'd pull on his hair or moan a bit louder for him. "Just...That...Fuck..." Your chest heaves as you struggle to speak. The words were on the tip of your tongue, ready to praise him, but you couldn't do it. He rendered you speechless.

"Got something to say, sweetheart?" He teases, replacing his tongue with his thumb, applying deeper pressure as he rubs your clit in circular motions. He kisses the top of your thigh and kisses both hips. Your hips were a particular favourite feature of his. He always wanted to be touching them. "What were you gonna say?" He asks, rubbing his fingers at your folds, letting you drip over them. "Tell me what you were gonna say," he bargains with you, teasing your entrance with the tips of his fingers, "and I'll let you cum."

"Or, stop me if you think this is too radical, you could just let me cum," you bite back, using your other hand to wipe yourself off his chin.

"I could, couldn't I?"

"Yes, you should."

He shrugs his shoulders, pushing his fingers inside you, chuckling at you shudder and gasp at the sudden intrusion. His tongue returns to your clit, working together with his fingers to play you like you were an instrument and wrangle the music out of you as he curls his fingers, brushing his fingers against the sweetest parts inside you. Gazing up, he finds you with your head hung back, your swollen lips parted to pant and moan his praises, with your eyes squeezed shut. He loved to watch you come undone. To witness your state as you teetered dangerously on the edge, ready to let go and jump.

"Let go for me," he encourages, dragging you back onto his lap, his fingers still pressed inside you. You straddled his lap, grinding your clit into the edge of his palm, and hiding your face in his neck. The coil in your stomach was unbearably tight. If it became any tighter, you were sure you would physically break. "That's it," he groans as you accidentally bite down on him, his neck muffling your moans as you finally come undone on top of him, "be a good girl and just let it all out. Soak these fingers again for me, just like you did for me earlier. Show me who I belong to." He peppers your shoulder with soft kisses, groaning louder against you as you squeeze around his fingers. "Fuck, you might just break them, baby girl; you're squeezing them so tightly."

You lazily cradle his neck, kissing over where you had bitten down, travelling up his neck until you meet his jaw. "Jesus," you giggle, feeling a wave of post-bliss giddiness wash over you. Your body tingled, and your legs were sore, but you craved more. "I want more," you mumble against him, kissing him as you turn his head to face you.

"More?" He raises his eyebrow. "Think you can take another finger?"

"I don't want more of your fingers," shaking your head, "I want you to fill me up, baby, make me feel nice and full."

"And I would love to give you what you wanted," he replies, retrieving his hand from between your legs and running it up the small of your back. You could sense there was a but coming. "But," he chuckles as he catches you rolling your eyes, "I don't have anything on me."

"What? No secret stash of condoms on here?" You tease, planting a quick kiss on the corner of his lips.

"Unfortunately not, princess," he shakes his head, hooking his fingers under your chin and drawing you closer to kiss him. It's slow and sweet, unlike the others you have been sharing. You had the time to savour it. He caresses your bottom lip as he pulls away, gazing at you with warmth in his eyes. "Do you want my shirt?"

"I want us to christen this boat, " you joke, dipping to kiss each of his shoulders, "but since you're so adamant about using protection, I'll guess I'll just have to wait until we get back to the house." You watch his expression change, his features softening as he realises the meaning behind your words. "Oh, there it is," you giggle, tapping the end of his nose, "figured it out yet?"

He clears his throat as his cheeks blush bright red. "But we've never...you know...before."

You rub your thumbs over his blushing cheeks, finding them to be so endearing. "What's the matter?" You tease him, already laughing before you can get your words. "Scared you'll be repeating your prom night all over again?" He leans his head away from you, his eyes slowly closing as he brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What did you say it felt like again?" You continue to tease him. "Thirty seconds?"

"I'm beginning to wish I had never told you that," he chuckles and groans simultaneously.

"At least you didn't send the poor girl to A&E with a condom stuck in her vagina," you confess, still feeling weak on your feet as you stand up. His eyes snap open, giving you a look that matched the rest of his confused expression. You roll your eyes as he attempts to stifle his laughter. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Mr Thirty Seconds," you give him one last jab, leaving to search for his shirt.

"And who says I haven't already done that?" He calls after you, adjusting his shorts as he stands.

"Done what?" You call back, hearing him approach from behind.

"Christen the boat?"

You managed to swallow your laughter, but a smile still twitched on the corners of your lips. "Because I know you, Christian," you tell him, pulling his shirt over your head, letting it cover most of your upper half, before spinning around to face him. It was no secret that you were his first girlfriend in a very long time. He was open about it to you - just like he was aware of your past relationships and flings. There were no skeletons in the closet or dark, nasty secrets that had to be kept hidden for the sake of the safety of the other. That just wasn't you. You were two very open books. "The only other women who have been on this boat are your mum and your sister," you deliver the punchline, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"And now you," he mumbles, circling his arms around your waist to pull you closer, "the most important woman in my life."

"I like the sound of that," you whisper, just managing to get the words out before he kisses you again. You fist your fingers into his hair, trying to stay steady on your feet as his arms squeeze around you. In that moment, you were the air he was breathing, his only source of oxygen and a chance at eternal life. It was an intensity you hadn't experienced before, but it made you aware that were his everything.

And you were.

From the first time he kissed you, he was hooked - addicted to the electrical spark he felt every single time he kissed you. He knew no one else would ever make him feel the same as you do. From that day on, he knew he would follow you to the end of the earth.

One hand drifts away from your back and traces the outline of your jaw as he pulls away to look at you. You were a vision of beauty, and it left him with a warm, fuzzy feeling like butterflies fluttering in his stomach. "Can I ask you something?" He asks, almost whisper-like. There was no better time for him to ask.

"Anything."

"Will you marry me?"

F O O T B A L L T A G L I S T

@shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @greykitkepa @thoseboysinblue @mountpulisic @dinonuggiesforliferz

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic x reader

[scintillyyy]

tim owns a gibson les paul and dick canonically plays guitar and they never discuss this potential shared interest together and this offends me <3 set in robin 32 my beloved because paris to gotham is a long flight and i'm sure they chitchatted (lewis's tim who says he's not a music oriented guy you can't hurt me, the boy doesn't own a gibson les paul for nothing)

"You know," Dick says, peering over Tim's shoulder at the page of the flight magazine the kid seems to be stuck on. "Duty-free only applies up to $800 in purchases. I think a $5000 guitar is just a little bit over that cap."

Tim looks up at him--startled, almost. He's been a little out of it ever since he and Dick left Paris. 

Truthfully, he's been a little out of it since they realized that the Clench could reactivate at any moment. Dick supposes he can't blame Tim for that--he's been holding his breath everytime Tim dozes off himself. Whenever he closes his eyes, he can see Tim sitting at the wall, breathing heavy but still managing to joke around as blood started to seep out the bottom of his mask, his horrified realization at what that meant, the terrified look he gave to Dick right before he slumped over...

It's fine. It's fine. Once they get back to Gotham and find Ra's and get the real cure this'll all just be nothing more than a bad dream. 

Tim looks down at the page, like he's actually seeing it for the first time despite the fact that he staring at it for about five solid minutes before Dick decided to say something. "Oh. I, um, I wasn't actually thinking of buying one," he says, like he thinks Dick might've actually been serious about thinking Tim was going to try and buy a custom Fender Stratocaster tax free. "I mean, I don't need one of these anyways. I already have a Les Paul at home."

Which. Jeez. Leave it to Tim to just drop the fact that he owns a...probably $3000 guitar oh-so-casually, like it's really nothing out of the ordinary for a fourteen year old to own. Tim is usually so down to earth it's easy to forget that his family has...a lot more money than the average person. 

Every so often he does like to remind them all, though.

"Really?" Dick teases. "Don't tell me. You had to have it because that's what the lead guitarist in Green Day uses." Which. It is a weird fact for Dick to know, but Tim seems to really like them--so of course he had to at least check them out, watch a few music videos. And *Dick's* played guitar since he was a kid, of course he was going to recognize a Gibson Les Paul, even if he is more of an acoustic guy himself. 

"I didn't exactly ask for it," Tim replies, a little sullen and pouty at Dick's teasing. "It's just--after dad got out of the hospital, I think he thought I'd like it after, y'know, everything. I don't think he realized I hadn't actually played in a couple of years."

Dick was unaware Tim ever did. It's interesting--a little kernel of a kid who, despite being the kind of person who can probably make conversation with a rock if he tries hard enough, can be surprisingly very guarded about himself. "You used to play?" he asks, tone casual, pretending he's not digging. 

Tim flushes and looks away, out the window. "Not really," he says. "I learned a bit when I was younger. After I got into listening to, like, real music." He hesistates. Even with his face turned away, Dick can tell by the tension in Tim's temple that he's debating on if he's going to continue what he's saying. Dick doesn't say anything, keeps quiet instead. In his experience, the best way to get someone to keep talking sometimes is to just let them go at their own pace. If they want to say it, they will. But only if you give them the chance. "Um. It was actually after I went to Bern with my parents over winter break once. It was--I was excited. They didn't take me on trips super often--they usually wanted to spend my school breaks at home. So it was the probably first time I'd been on a plane, actually. I always thought--I guess I always thought plane rides would be way more exciting than they actually are. Anyways, um. I was bored and I was just flipping through the in-flight entertainment and I ended up on the music video channel and--that might've be the first time? I think that was the first time I saw a Green Day video. And I--I was like wow. I was so impressed. And I turned to my mom and I said--I said I want to learn how to play just like that. And she said of course."

Unlike Jack--who Dick hears about constantly--Tim doesn't really talk about his mom much. Or ever really. Dick can probably count on one hand  the amount of times he's heard Tim bring her up since the funeral. And when one of those times was just a few weeks ago, during one of the many times Dick called Alfred to check on Tim and he could hear the kid in the background, sick and delirious with fever, wimpering for his mom, dad, Dana, anyone-

Well, anyways. Tim really doesn't talk about his mom much.

Dick bites the inside of his cheek. Clearly the nice thing to do would be to drop it here, before he really depresses the kid. But he can't deny that he's a bit curious to hear Tim go on, hear more about this. He really shouldn't ask though--he's trying to cheer Tim up, not make things worse.

But, Dick supposes. If Tim really didn't want to talk about it, he would have found a way to change the subject instead. He's pretty good at that, in Dick's experience. 

So he must want to talk about it. And Dick is curious. He's not a total saint, after all. "So you got lessons?" he asks. 

"Um. Kind of. I mean, usually that's what they would do whenever I expressed an interest in anything. Um. At least my mom did. She'd always do a ton of research to find the highest rated courses and make a ton of calls, even if she was a thousand miles away, just get me signed up for the best one as soon as possible. But, no. This time--this time, she--um. She kind of taught me a little bit herself instead." Dick's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn't even a remote possibility. Tim swallows hard. "Yea, um. She said. She said she used to play in college, y'know. And after we got home, we went up to the attic of the townhouse and got out her old acoustic. It was just this cheap old thing. We must've spent all afternoon trying to get it tuned, god, my dad left the house, said his ears were going to start bleeding if he had to listen to us anymore." Tim looks down at his hands now. He clasps them together, twiddling his thumbs a bit. "We gave up by dinner, just went to go buy a new one instead. And then she taught me the basics, y'know. I'd practice, and then whenever she was home, we'd play together. I was never very good. She was a lot better." Tim frowns. "But still. She got me an electric guitar for my tenth birthday. Not anything too fancy, just enough so I could feel like a rockstar, she said. And that I'd get there, I just had to keep practicing."

"But you didn't?" Dick asks. It is a bit surprising, now that he's heard the whole story. It seems like something that would have been important to Tim to keep up. The kid's a bit sentimental like that. "You said it's been a couple of years, right?"

Tim's face shutters ever do slightly. "Well, ah, that is-" he says, floundering a bit. Now he's trying to sidestep. "The electric guitar broke. Um. On accident. Right before school let out back when I was eleven. And after that, I just. Couldn't find it in me to play anymore. I could never bring myself to tell my mom what happened, so I just said I was bored of it instead." Tim's mouth twists. "She was a little disappointed. I think she always hoped I'd pick it up again someday. I dunno. I thought about it. When I saw the new guitar in my room. But looking at it I just couldn't. It was too, too--" Tim sighs. "Maybe I should've. Given it another chance. I just, I wasn't--and now, who knows if there'll be one before-" Tim stops. He doesn't finish his sentence. He doesn't have to.

"Ah." Things start clicking together for Dick in a terrible way. Tim, who's been quiet and melancholy. Worried that the Clench could come back any minute, that he won't have a chance to do things that he maybe thought he could push off for the someday.

He suddenly seems so young. So young and lost and scared.

Tim's going to get a chance to play that guitar again. Dick's not sure how many people he's going to have to punch to make it happen, but he will. And once he does, maybe, just maybe Dick can casually mention that he plays on occasion too. They could make an afternoon of it. Order a pizza, maybe argue about music a bit. And Tim can say something like, hey, I think my mom would be really happy to see me doing this again. 

It'll be nice.

#dick and tim #listen shhh i know you probably can't buy guitars at the duty free shop but #i want them to talk about guitars so in comic book world you can #constantly thinking of tim's les paul